ON THE MORNING OF CHRISTS NATIVITY.
　　Compos'd 1629.
　　
　　I
　　
　　This is the Month, and this the happy morn
　　Wherin the Son of Heav'ns eternal King,
　　Of wedded Maid, and Virgin Mother born,
　　Our great redemption from above did bring;
　　For so the holy sages once did sing,
　　That he our deadly forfeit should release,
　　And with his Father work us a perpetual peace.
　　
　　II
　　
　　That glorious Form, that Light unsufferable,
　　And that far-beaming blaze of Majesty,
　　Wherwith he wont at Heav'ns high Councel-Table, 10
　　To sit the midst of Trinal Unity,
　　He laid aside; and here with us to be,
　　Forsook the Courts of everlasting Day,
　　And chose with us a darksom House of mortal Clay.
　　
　　III
　　
　　Say Heav'nly Muse, shall not thy sacred vein
　　Afford a present to the Infant God?
　　Hast thou no vers, no hymn, or solemn strein,
　　To welcom him to this his new abode,
　　Now while the Heav'n by the Suns team untrod,
　　Hath took no print of the approching light, 20
　　And all the spangled host keep watch in squadrons bright?
　　
　　IV
　　
　　See how from far upon the Eastern rode
　　The Star-led Wisards haste with odours sweet,
　　O run, prevent them with thy humble ode,
　　And lay it lowly at his blessed feet;
　　Have thou the honour first, thy Lord to greet,
　　And joyn thy voice unto the Angel Quire,
　　>From out his secret Altar toucht with hallow'd fire.
　　
　　
　　The Hymn.
　　
　　I
　　
　　IT was the Winter wilde,
　　While the Heav'n-born-childe, 30
　　All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies;
　　Nature in aw to him
　　Had doff't her gawdy trim,
　　With her great Master so to sympathize:
　　It was no season then for her
　　To wanton with the Sun her lusty Paramour.
　　
　　II
　　
　　Only with speeches fair
　　She woo'd the gentle Air
　　To hide her guilty front with innocent Snow,
　　And on her naked shame, 40
　　Pollute with sinfull blame,
　　The Saintly Vail of Maiden white to throw,
　　Confounded, that her Makers eyes
　　Should look so near upon her foul deformities.
　　
　　III
　　
　　But he her fears to cease,
　　Sent down the meek-eyd Peace,
　　She crown'd with Olive green, came softly sliding
　　Down through the turning sphear
　　His ready Harbinger,
　　With Turtle wing the amorous clouds dividing, 50
　　And waving wide her mirtle wand,
　　She strikes a universall Peace through Sea and Land.
　　
　　IV
　　
　　No War, or Battails sound
　　Was heard the World around,
　　The idle spear and shield were high up hung;
　　The hooked Chariot stood
　　Unstain'd with hostile blood,
　　The Trumpet spake not to the armed throng,
　　And Kings sate still with awfull eye,
　　As if they surely knew their sovran Lord was by. 60
　　
　　V
　　
　　But peacefull was the night
　　Wherin the Prince of light
　　His raign of peace upon the earth began:
　　The Windes with wonder whist,
　　Smoothly the waters kist,
　　Whispering new joyes to the milde Ocean,
　　Who now hath quite forgot to rave,
　　While Birds of Calm sit brooding on the charmed wave.
　　
　　VI
　　
　　The Stars with deep amaze
　　Stand fit in steadfast gaze, 70
　　Bending one way their pretious influence,
　　And will not take their flight,
　　For all the morning light,
　　Or Lucifer that often warned them thence;
　　But in their glimmering Orbs did glow,
　　Until their Lord himself bespake, and bid them go.
　　
　　VII
　　
　　And though the shady gloom
　　Had given day her room,
　　The Sun himself with-held his wonted speed,
　　And hid his head for shame, 80
　　As his inferior flame,
　　The new enlightened world no more should need;
　　He saw a greater Sun appear
　　Then his bright Throne, or burning Axletree could bear.
　　
　　VIII
　　
　　The Shepherds on the Lawn,
　　Or ere the point of dawn,
　　Sate simply chatting in a rustic row;
　　Full little thought they than,
　　That the mighty Pan
　　Was kindly com to live with them below; 90
　　Perhaps their loves, or els their sheep,
　　Was all that did their silly thoughts so busie keep.
　　
　　IX
　　
　　When such Musick sweet
　　Their hearts and ears did greet,
　　As never was by mortal finger strook,
　　Divinely-warbled voice
　　Answering the stringed noise,
　　As all their souls in blisfull rapture took:
　　The Air such pleasure loth to lose,
　　With thousand echo's still prolongs each heav'nly close. 100
　　
　　X
　　
　　Nature that heard such sound
　　Beneath the hollow round
　　of Cynthia's seat the Airy region thrilling,
　　Now was almost won
　　To think her part was don
　　And that her raign had here its last fulfilling;
　　She knew such harmony alone
　　Could hold all Heav'n and Earth in happier union.
　　
　　XI
　　
　　At last surrounds their sight
　　A globe of circular light, 110
　　That with long beams the shame faced night arrayed
　　The helmed Cherubim
　　And sworded Seraphim,
　　Are seen in glittering ranks with wings displaid,
　　Harping in loud and solemn quire,
　　With unexpressive notes to Heav'ns new-born Heir.
　　
　　XII
　　
　　Such Musick (as 'tis said)
　　Before was never made,
　　But when of old the sons of morning sung,
　　While the Creator Great
　　His constellations set, 120
　　And the well-ballanc't world on hinges hung,
　　And cast the dark foundations deep,
　　And bid the weltring waves their oozy channel keep.
　　
　　XIII
　　
　　Ring out ye Crystall sphears,
　　Once bless our human ears,
　　(If ye have power to touch our senses so)
　　And let your silver chime
　　Move in melodious time;
　　And let the Base of Heav'ns deep Organ blow, 130
　　And with your ninefold harmony
　　Make up full consort to th'Angelike symphony.
　　
　　XIV
　　
　　For if such holy Song
　　Enwrap our fancy long,
　　Time will run back, and fetch the age of gold,
　　And speckl'd vanity
　　Will sicken soon and die,
　　And leprous sin will melt from earthly mould,
　　And Hell it self will pass away
　　And leave her dolorous mansions to the peering day. 140
　　
　　XV
　　
　　Yea Truth, and Justice then
　　Will down return to men,
　　Th'enameld Arras of the Rain-bow wearing,
　　And Mercy set between
　　Thron'd in Celestiall sheen,
　　With radiant feet the tissued clouds down stearing,
　　And Heav'n as at som festivall,
　　Will open wide the gates of her high Palace Hall.
　　
　　XVI
　　
　　But wisest Fate sayes no,
　　This must not yet be so, 150
　　The Babe lies yet in smiling Infancy,
　　That on the bitter cross
　　Must redeem our loss;
　　So both himself and us to glorifie:
　　Yet first to those ychain'd in sleep,
　　The Wakeful trump of doom must thunder through the deep,
　　
　　XVII
　　
　　With such a horrid clang
　　As on Mount Sinai rang
　　While the red fire, and smouldring clouds out brake:
　　The aged Earth agast 160
　　With terrour of that blast,
　　Shall from the surface to the center shake;
　　When at the worlds last session,
　　The dreadfull Judge in middle Air shall spread his throne.
　　
　　XVIII
　　
　　And then at last our bliss
　　Full and perfect is,
　　But now begins; for from this happy day
　　Th'old Dragon under ground
　　In straiter limits bound,
　　Not half so far casts his usurped sway, 170
　　And wrath to see his Kingdom fail,
　　Swindges the scaly Horrour of his foulded tail.
　　
　　XIX
　　
　　The Oracles are dumm,
　　No voice or hideous humm
　　Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving.
　　Apollo from his shrine
　　Can no more divine,
　　With hollow shreik the steep of Delphos leaving.
　　No nightly trance, or breathed spell,
　　Inspire's the pale-ey'd Priest from the prophetic cell. 180
　　
　　XX
　　
　　The lonely mountains o're,
　　And the resounding shore,
　　A voice of weeping heard, and loud lament;
　　>From haunted spring, and dale
　　Edg'd with poplar pale
　　The parting Genius is with sighing sent,
　　With flowre-inwov'n tresses torn
　　The Nimphs in twilight shade of tangled thickets mourn.
　　
　　XXI
　　
　　In consecrated Earth,
　　And on the holy Hearth, 190
　　The Lars, and Lemures moan with midnight plaint,
　　In Urns, and Altars round,
　　A drear, and dying sound
　　Affrights the Flamins at their service quaint;
　　And the chill Marble seems to sweat,
　　While each peculiar power forgoes his wonted seat.
　　
　　XXII
　　
　　Peor, and Baalim,
　　Forsake their Temples dim,
　　With that twise-batter'd god of Palestine,
　　And mooned Ashtaroth, 200
　　Heav'ns Queen and Mother both,
　　Now sits not girt with Tapers holy shine,
　　The Libyc Hammon shrinks his horn,
　　In vain the Tyrian Maids their wounded Thamuz mourn.
　　
　　XXIII
　　
　　And sullen Moloch fled,
　　Hath left in shadows dred,
　　His burning Idol all of blackest hue,
　　In vain with Cymbals ring,
　　They call the grisly king,
　　In dismall dance about the furnace Blue; 210
　　And Brutish gods of Nile as fast,
　　lsis and Orus, and the Dog Anubis hast.
　　
　　
　　
　　THE PASSION.
　　
　　
　　I
　　
　　ERE-while of Musick, and Ethereal mirth,
　　Wherwith the stage of Ayr and Earth did ring,
　　And joyous news of heav'nly Infants birth,
　　My muse with Angels did divide to sing;
　　But headlong joy is ever on the wing,
　　In Wintry solstice like the shortn'd light
　　Soon swallow'd up in dark and long out-living night.
　　
　　II
　　
　　For now to sorrow must I tune my song,
　　And set my Harpe to notes of saddest wo,
　　Which on our dearest Lord did sease er'e long,
　　Dangers, and snares, and wrongs, and worse then so, 10
　　Which he for us did freely undergo.
　　Most perfect Heroe, try'd in heaviest plight
　　Of labours huge and hard, too hard for human wight.
　　
　　III
　　
　　He sov'ran Priest stooping his regall head
　　That dropt with odorous oil down his fair eyes,
　　Poor fleshly Tabernacle entered,
　　His starry front low-rooft beneath the skies;
　　O what a Mask was there, what a disguise!
　　Yet more; the stroke of death he must abide, 20
　　Then lies him meekly down fast by his Brethrens side.
　　
　　IV
　　
　　These latter scenes confine my roving vers,
　　To this Horizon is my Phoebus bound,
　　His Godlike acts, and his temptations fierce,
　　And former sufferings other where are found;
　　Loud o're the rest Cremona's Trump doth sound;
　　Me softer airs befit, and softer strings
　　Of Lute, or Viol still, more apt for mournful things.
　　
　　Note: 22 latter] latest 1673.
　　
　　V
　　
　　Befriend me night best Patroness of grief,
　　Over the Pole thy thickest mantle throw, 30
　　And work my flatterd fancy to belief,
　　That Heav'n and Earth are colour'd with my wo;
　　My sorrows are too dark for day to know:
　　The leaves should all be black wheron I write,
　　And letters where my tears have washt a wannish white.
　　
　　VI
　　
　　See see the Chariot, and those rushing wheels,
　　That whirl'd the Prophet up at Chebar flood,
　　My spirit som transporting Cherub feels,
　　To bear me where the Towers of Salem stood,
　　Once glorious Towers, now sunk in guiltles blood; 40
　　There doth my soul in holy vision sit
　　In pensive trance, and anguish, and ecstatick fit.
　　
　　VII
　　
　　Mine eye hath found that sad Sepulchral rock
　　That was the Casket of Heav'ns richest store,
　　And here though grief my feeble hands up-lock,
　　Yet on the softned Quarry would I score
　　My plaining vers as lively as before;
　　For sure so well instructed are my tears,
　　They would fitly fall in order'd Characters.
　　
　　VIII
　　
　　I thence hurried on viewles wing, 50
　　Take up a weeping on the Mountains wilde,
　　The gentle neighbourhood of grove and spring
　　Would soon unboosom all their Echoes milde,
　　And I (for grief is easily beguild)
　　Might think th'infection of my sorrows bound,
　　Had got a race of mourners on som pregnant cloud.
　　
　　Note: This subject the Author finding to be above the yeers he had,
　　when he wrote it, and nothing satisfi'd with what was begun,
　　left it unfinish'd.
　　
　　
　　
　　On Time.
　　
　　
　　FLY envious Time, till thou run out thy race,
　　Call on the lazy leaden-stepping hours,
　　Whose speed is but the heavy Plummets pace;
　　And glut thy self with what thy womb devours,
　　Which is no more then what is false and vain,
　　And meerly mortal dross;
　　So little is our loss,
　　So little is thy gain.
　　For when as each thing bad thou hast entomb'd,
　　And last of all, thy greedy self consum'd, 10
　　Then long Eternity shall greet our bliss
　　With an individual kiss;
　　And Joy shall overtake us as a flood,
　　When every thing that is sincerely good
　　And perfectly divine,
　　With Truth, and Peace, and Love shall ever shine
　　About the supreme Throne
　　Of him, t'whose happy-making sight alone,
　　When once our heav'nly-guided soul shall clime,
　　Then all this Earthy grosnes quit, 20
　　Attir'd with Stars, we shall for ever sit,
　　Triumphing over Death, and Chance, and thee O Time.
　　
　　Note: See the appendix for the manuscript version.
　　
　　
　　
　　UPON THE CIRCUMCISION.
　　
　　
　　YE flaming Powers, and winged Warriours bright,
　　That erst with Musick, and triumphant song
　　First heard by happy watchful Shepherds ear,
　　So sweetly sung your Joy the Clouds along
　　Through the soft silence of the list'ning night;
　　Now mourn, and if sad share with us to bear
　　Your fiery essence can distill no tear,
　　Burn in your sighs, and borrow
　　Seas wept from our deep sorrow,
　　He who with all Heav'ns heraldry whileare 10
　　Enter'd the world, now bleeds to give us ease;
　　Alas, how soon our sin
　　Sore doth begin
　　His Infancy to sease!
　　
　　O more exceeding love or law more just?
　　Just law indeed, but more exceeding love !
　　For we by rightfull doom remediles
　　Were lost in death, till he that dwelt above
　　High thron'd in secret bliss, for us frail dust
　　Emptied his glory, ev'n to nakednes; 20
　　And that great Cov'nant which we still transgress
　　Intirely satisfi'd,
　　And the full wrath beside
　　Of vengeful Justice bore for our excess,
　　And seals obedience first with wounding smart
　　This day, but O ere long
　　Huge pangs and strong
　　Will pierce more neer his heart.
　　
　　
　　
　　AT A SOLEMN MUSICK.
　　
　　
　　BLEST pair of Sirens, pledges of Heav'ns joy,
　　Sphear-born harmonious Sisters, Voice, and Vers,
　　Wed your divine sounds, and mixt power employ
　　Dead things with inbreath'd sense able to pierce,
　　And to our high-rais'd phantasie present,
　　That undisturbed Song of pure content,
　　Ay sung before the saphire-colour'd throne
　　To him that sits theron
　　With Saintly shout, and solemn Jubily,
　　Where the bright Seraphim in burning row 10
　　Their loud up-lifted Angel trumpets blow,
　　And the Cherubick host in thousand quires
　　Touch their immortal Harps of golden wires,
　　With those just Spirits that wear victorious Palms,
　　Hymns devout and holy Psalms
　　Singing everlastingly;
　　That we on Earth with undiscording voice
　　May rightly answer that melodious noise;
　　As once we did, till disproportion'd sin
　　Jarr'd against natures chime, and with harsh din 20
　　The fair musick that all creatures made
　　To their great Lord, whose love their motion sway'd
　　In perfect Diapason, whilst they stood
　　In first obedience, and their state of good.
　　O may we soon again renew that Song,
　　And keep in tune with Heav'n, till God ere long
　　To his celestial consort us unite,
　　To live with him, and sing in endles morn of light.
　　
　　Note: 6 content] Manuscript reads concent as does the Second
　　Edition; so that content is probably a misprint.
　　
　　
　　
　　
　　AN EPITAPH ON THE MARCHIONESS OF WINCHESTER.
　　
　　
　　THIS rich Marble doth enterr
　　The honour'd Wife of Winchester,
　　A Vicounts daughter, an Earls heir,
　　Besides what her vertues fair
　　Added to her noble birth,
　　More then she could own from Earth.
　　Summers three times eight save one
　　She had told, alas too soon,
　　After so short time of breath,
　　To house with darknes, and with death. 10
　　Yet had the number of her days
　　Bin as compleat as was her praise,
　　Nature and fate had had no strife
　　In giving limit to her life.
　　Her high birth, and her graces sweet,
　　Quickly found a lover meet;
　　The Virgin quire for her request
　　The God that sits at marriage feast;
　　He at their invoking came
　　But with a scarce-wel-lighted flame; 20
　　And in his Garland as he stood,
　　Ye might discern a Cipress bud.
　　Once had the early Matrons run
　　To greet her of a lovely son,
　　And now with second hope she goes,
　　And calls Lucina to her throws;
　　But whether by mischance or blame
　　Atropos for Lucina came;
　　And with remorsles cruelty,
　　Spoil'd at once both fruit and tree: 30
　　The haples Babe before his birth
　　Had burial, yet not laid in earth,
　　And the languisht Mothers Womb
　　Was not long a living Tomb.
　　So have I seen som tender slip
　　Sav'd with care from Winters nip,
　　The pride of her carnation train,
　　Pluck't up by som unheedy swain,
　　Who onely thought to crop the flowr
　　New shot up from vernall showr; 40
　　But the fair blossom hangs the head
　　Side-ways as on a dying bed,
　　And those Pearls of dew she wears,
　　Prove to be presaging tears
　　Which the sad morn had let fall
　　On her hast'ning funerall.
　　Gentle Lady may thy grave
　　Peace and quiet ever have;
　　After this thy travail sore
　　Sweet rest sease thee evermore, 50
　　That to give the world encrease,
　　Shortned hast thy own lives lease;
　　Here besides the sorrowing
　　That thy noble House doth bring,
　　Here be tears of perfect moan
　　Weept for thee in Helicon,
　　And som Flowers, and som Bays,
　　For thy Hears to strew the ways,
　　Sent thee from the banks of Came,
　　Devoted to thy vertuous name; 60
　　Whilst thou bright Saint high sit'st in glory,
　　Next her much like to thee in story,
　　That fair Syrian Shepherdess,
　　Who after yeers of barrennes,
　　The highly favour'd Joseph bore
　　To him that serv'd for her before,
　　And at her next birth much like thee,
　　Through pangs fled to felicity,
　　Far within the boosom bright
　　of blazing Majesty and Light, 70
　　There with thee, new welcom Saint,
　　Like fortunes may her soul acquaint,
　　With thee there clad in radiant sheen,
　　No Marchioness, but now a Queen.
　　
　　
　　
　　SONG ON MAY MORNING.
　　
　　
　　Now the bright morning Star, Dayes harbinger,
　　Comes dancing from the East, and leads with her
　　The Flowry May, who from her green lap throws
　　The yellow Cowslip, and the pale Primrose.
　　Hail bounteous May that dost inspire
　　Mirth and youth, and warm desire,
　　Woods and Groves, are of thy dressing,
　　Hill and Dale, doth boast thy blessing.
　　Thus we salute thee with our early Song,
　　And welcom thee, and wish thee long. 10
　　
　　
　　
　　ON SHAKESPEAR. 1630.
　　
　　
　　WHAT needs my Shakespear for his honour'd Bones,
　　The labour of an age in piled Stones,
　　Or that his hallow'd reliques should be hid
　　Under a Star-ypointing Pyramid?
　　Dear son of memory, great heir of Fame,
　　What need'st thou such weak witnes of thy name?
　　Thou in our wonder and astonishment
　　Hast built thy self a live-long Monument.
　　For whilst to th'sharne of slow-endeavouring art,
　　Thy easie numbers flow, and that each heart 10
　　Hath from the Leaves of thy unvalu'd Book,
　　Those Delphick lines with deep impression took,
　　Then thou our fancy of it self bereaving,
　　Dost make us Marble with too much conceaving;
　　And so Sepulcher'd in such pomp dost lie,
　　That Kings for such a Tomb would wish to die.
　　
　　Notes: On Shakespear. Reprinted 1632 in the second folio
　　Shakespeare:
　　Title] An epitaph on the admirable dramaticke poet W.
　　Shakespeare
　　1 needs] neede
　　6 weak] dull
　　8 live-long] lasting
　　10 heart] part
　　13 it] her
　　
　　
　　
　　ON THE UNIVERSITY CARRIER WHO SICKN'D IN THE TIME OF HIS
　　VACANCY, BEING FORBID TO GO TO LONDON, BY REASON OF THE
　　PLAGUE.
　　
　　
　　HERE lies old Hobson, Death hath broke his girt,
　　And here alas, hath laid him in the dirt,
　　Or els the ways being foul, twenty to one,
　　He's here stuck in a slough, and overthrown.
　　'Twas such a shifter, that if truth were known,
　　Death was half glad when he had got him down;
　　For he had any time this ten yeers full,
　　Dodg'd with him, betwixt Cambridge and the Bull.
　　And surely, Death could never have prevail'd,
　　Had not his weekly cours of carriage fail'd; 10
　　But lately finding him so long at home,
　　And thinking now his journeys end was come,
　　And that he had tane up his latest Inne,
　　In the kind office of a Chamberlin
　　Shew'd him his room where he must lodge that night,
　　Pull'd off his Boots, and took away the light:
　　If any ask for him, it shall be sed,
　　Hobson has supt, and 's newly gon to bed.
　　
　　
　　
　　ANOTHER ON THE SAME.
　　
　　
　　HERE lieth one who did most truly prove,
　　That he could never die while he could move,
　　So hung his destiny never to rot
　　While he might still jogg on, and keep his trot,
　　Made of sphear-metal, never to decay
　　Untill his revolution was at stay.
　　Time numbers motion, yet (without a crime
　　'Gainst old truth) motion number'd out his time:
　　And like an Engin mov'd with wheel and waight,
　　His principles being ceast, he ended strait. 10
　　Rest that gives all men life, gave him his death,
　　And too much breathing put him out of breath;
　　Nor were it contradiction to affirm
　　Too long vacation hastned on his term.
　　Meerly to drive the time away he sickn'd,
　　Fainted, and died, nor would with Ale be quickn'd;
　　Nay, quoth he, on his swooning bed out-stretch'd,
　　If I may not carry, sure Ile ne're be fetch'd,
　　But vow though the cross Doctors all stood hearers,
　　For one Carrier put down to make six bearers. 20
　　Ease was his chief disease, and to judge right,
　　He di'd for heavines that his Cart went light,
　　His leasure told him that his time was com,
　　And lack of load, made his life burdensom
　　That even to his last breath (ther be that say't)
　　As he were prest to death, he cry'd more waight;
　　But had his doings lasted as they were,
　　He had bin an immortall Carrier.
　　Obedient to the Moon he spent his date
　　In cours reciprocal, and had his fate 30
　　Linkt to the mutual flowing of the Seas,
　　Yet (strange to think) his wain was his increase:
　　His Letters are deliver'd all and gon,
　　Onely remains this superscription.
　　
　　
　　
　　L'ALLEGRO.
　　
　　
　　HENCE loathed Melancholy
　　Of Cerberus, and blackest midnight born,
　　In Stygian Cave forlorn
　　'Mongst horrid shapes, and shreiks, and sights unholy,
　　Find out som uncouth cell,
　　Where brooding darknes spreads his jealous wings,
　　And the night-Raven sings;
　　There under Ebon shades and low-brow'd Rocks,
　　As ragged as thy Locks,
　　In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell. 10
　　But com thou Goddes fair and free,
　　In Heav'n ycleap'd Euphrosyne,
　　And by men, heart-easing Mirth,
　　Whom lovely Venus at a birth
　　With two sister Graces more
　　To Ivy-crowned Bacchus bore;
　　Or whether (as som Sager sing)
　　The frolick Wind that breathes the Spring,
　　Zephir with Aurora playing,
　　As he met her once a Maying, 20
　　There on Beds of Violets blew,
　　And fresh-blown Roses washt in dew,
　　Fill'd her with thee a daughter fair,
　　So bucksom, blith, and debonair.
　　Haste thee nymph, and bring with thee
　　Jest and youthful Jollity,
　　Quips and Cranks, and wanton Wiles,
　　Nods, and Becks, and Wreathed Smiles,
　　Such as hang on Hebe's cheek,
　　And love to live in dimple sleek; 30
　　Sport that wrincled Care derides,
　　And Laughter holding both his sides.
　　Com, and trip it as ye go
　　On the light fantastick toe,
　　And in thy right hand lead with thee,
　　The Mountain Nymph, sweet Liberty;
　　And if I give thee honour due,
　　Mirth, admit me of thy crue
　　To live with her, and live with thee,
　　In unreproved pleasures free; 40
　　To hear the Lark begin his flight,
　　And singing startle the dull night,
　　>From his watch-towre in the skies,
　　Till the dappled dawn doth rise;
　　Then to com in spight of sorrow,
　　And at my window bid good morrow,
　　Through the Sweet-Briar, or the Vine,
　　Or the twisted Eglantine.
　　While the Cock with lively din,
　　Scatters the rear of darknes thin, 50
　　And to the stack, or the Barn dore,
　　Stoutly struts his Dames before,
　　Oft list'ning how the Hounds and horn
　　Chearly rouse the slumbring morn,
　　>From the side of som Hoar Hill,
　　Through the high wood echoing shrill.
　　Som time walking not unseen
　　By Hedge-row Elms, on Hillocks green,
　　Right against the Eastern gate,
　　Wher the great Sun begins his state, 60
　　Rob'd in flames, and Amber light,
　　The clouds in thousand Liveries dight.
　　While the Plowman neer at hand,
　　Whistles ore the Furrow'd Land,
　　And the Milkmaid singeth blithe,
　　And the Mower whets his sithe,
　　And every Shepherd tells his tale
　　Under the Hawthorn in the dale.
　　Streit mine eye hath caught new pleasures
　　Whilst the Lantskip round it measures, 70
　　Russet Lawns, and Fallows Gray,
　　Where the nibling flocks do stray,
　　Mountains on whose barren brest
　　The labouring clouds do often rest:
　　Meadows trim with Daisies pide,
　　Shallow Brooks, and Rivers wide.
　　Towers, and Battlements it sees
　　Boosom'd high in tufted Trees,
　　Wher perhaps som beauty lies,
　　The Cynosure of neighbouring eyes. 80
　　Hard by, a Cottage chimney smokes,
　　>From betwixt two aged Okes,
　　Where Corydon and Thyrsis met,
　　Are at their savory dinner set
　　Of Hearbs, and other Country Messes,
　　Which the neat-handed Phillis dresses;
　　And then in haste her Bowre she leaves,
　　With Thestylis to bind the Sheaves;
　　Or if the earlier season lead
　　To the tann'd Haycock in the Mead, 90
　　Som times with secure delight
　　The up-land Hamlets will invite,
　　When the merry Bells ring round,
　　And the jocond rebecks sound
　　To many a youth, and many a maid,
　　Dancing in the Chequer'd shade;
　　And young and old com forth to play
　　On a Sunshine Holyday,
　　Till the live-long day-light fail,
　　Then to the Spicy Nut-brown Ale, 100
　　With stories told of many a feat,
　　How Faery Mab the junkets eat,
　　She was pincht, and pull'd she sed,
　　And he by Friars Lanthorn led
　　Tells how the drudging Goblin swet,
　　To ern his Cream-bowle duly set,
　　When in one night, ere glimps of morn,
　　His shadowy Flale hath thresh'd the Corn
　　That ten day-labourers could not end,
　　Then lies him down the Lubbar Fend. 110
　　And stretch'd out all the Chimney's length,
　　Basks at the fire his hairy strength;
　　And Crop-full out of dores he flings,
　　Ere the first Cock his Mattin rings.
　　Thus don the Tales, to bed they creep,
　　By whispering Windes soon lull'd asleep.
　　Towred Cities please us then,
　　And the busie humm of men,
　　Where throngs of Knights and Barons bold,
　　In weeds of Peace high triumphs hold, 120
　　With store of Ladies, whose bright eies
　　Rain influence, and judge the prise
　　Of Wit, or Arms, while both contend
　　To win her Grace, whom all commend.
　　There let Hymen oft appear
　　In Saffron robe, with Taper clear,
　　And pomp, and feast, and revelry,
　　With mask, and antique Pageantry,
　　Such sights as youthfull Poets dream
　　On Summer eeves by haunted stream. 130
　　Then to the well-trod stage anon,
　　If Jonsons learned Sock be on,
　　Or sweetest Shakespear fancies childe,
　　Warble his native Wood-notes wilde,
　　And ever against eating Cares,
　　Lap me in soft Lydian Aires,
　　Married to immortal verse
　　Such as the meeting soul may pierce
　　In notes, with many a winding bout
　　Of lincked sweetnes long drawn out, 140
　　With wanton heed, and giddy cunning,
　　The melting voice through mazes running;
　　Untwisting all the chains that ty
　　The hidden soul of harmony.
　　That Orpheus self may heave his head
　　>From golden slumber on a bed
　　Of heapt Elysian flowres, and hear
　　Such streins as would have won the ear
　　Of Pluto, to have quite set free
　　His half regain'd Eurydice. 150
　　These delights, if thou canst give,
　　Mirth with thee, I mean to live.
　　
　　Notes:
　　33 Ye] You 1673
　　104 And he by] And by the 1673
　　
　　
　　
　　IL PENSEROSO.
　　
　　
　　Hence vain deluding joyes,
　　The brood of folly without father bred,
　　How little you bested,
　　Or fill the fixed mind with all your toyes;
　　Dwell in som idle brain
　　And fancies fond with gaudy shapes possess,
　　As thick and numberless
　　As the gay motes that people the Sun Beams,
　　Or likest hovering dreams
　　The fickle Pensioners of Morpheus train. 10
　　But hail thou Goddess, sage and holy,
　　Hail divinest Melancholy
　　Whose Saintly visage is too bright
　　To hit the Sense of human sight;
　　And therefore to our weaker view,
　　Ore laid with black staid Wisdoms hue.
　　Black, but such as in esteem,
　　Prince Memnons sister might beseem,
　　Or that Starr'd Ethiope Queen that strove
　　To set her beauties praise above 20
　　The Sea Nymphs, and their powers offended.
　　Yet thou art higher far descended,
　　Thee bright-hair'd Vesta long of yore,
　　To solitary Saturn bore;
　　His daughter she (in Saturns raign,
　　Such mixture was not held a stain)
　　Oft in glimmering Bowres, and glades
　　He met her, and in secret shades
　　Of woody Ida's inmost grove,
　　While yet there was no fear of Jove. 30
　　Com pensive Nun, devout and pure,
　　Sober, stedfast, and demure,
　　All in a robe of darkest grain,
　　Flowing with majestick train,
　　And sable stole of Cipres Lawn,
　　Over thy decent shoulders drawn.
　　Com, but keep thy wonted state,
　　With eev'n step, and musing gate,
　　And looks commercing with the skies,
　　Thy rapt soul sitting in thine eyes: 40
　　There held in holy passion still,
　　Forget thy self to Marble, till
　　With a sad Leaden downward cast,
　　Thou fix them on the earth as fast.
　　And joyn with thee calm Peace, and Quiet,
　　Spare Fast, that oft with gods doth diet,
　　And hears the Muses in a ring,
　　Ay round about Joves Altar sing.
　　And adde to these retired Leasure,
　　That in trim Gardens takes his pleasure; 50
　　But first, and chiefest, with thee bring,
　　Him that yon soars on golden wing,
　　Guiding the fiery-wheeled throne,
　　The Cherub Contemplation,
　　And the mute Silence hist along,
　　'Less Philomel will daign a Song,
　　In her sweetest, saddest plight,
　　Smoothing the rugged brow of night,
　　While Cynthia checks her Dragon yoke,
　　Gently o're th'accustom'd Oke; 60
　　Sweet Bird that shunn'st the noise of folly
　　Most musical!, most melancholy!
　　Thee Chauntress oft the Woods among
　　I woo to hear thy eeven-Song;
　　And missing thee, I walk unseen
　　On the dry smooth-shaven Green,
　　To behold the wandring Moon,
　　Riding neer her highest noon,
　　Like one that had bin led astray
　　Through the Heav'ns wide pathles way; 70
　　And oft, as if her head she bow'd,
　　Stooping through a fleecy cloud.
　　Oft on a Plat of rising ground,
　　I hear the far-off Curfeu sound,
　　Over som wide-water'd shoar,
　　Swinging slow with sullen roar;
　　Or if the Ayr will not permit,
　　Som still removed place will fit,
　　Where glowing Embers through the room
　　Teach light to counterfeit a gloom 80
　　Far from all resort of mirth,
　　Save the Cricket on the hearth,
　　Or the Belmans drowsie charm,
　　To bless the dores from nightly harm:
　　Or let my Lamp at midnight hour,
　　Be seen in som high lonely Towr,
　　Where I may oft out-watch the Bear,
　　With thrice great Hermes, or unsphear
　　The spirit of Plato to unfold
　　What Worlds, or what vast Regions hold 90
　　The immortal mind that hath forsook
　　Her mansion in this fleshly nook:
　　And of those Daemons that are found
　　In fire, air, flood, or under ground,
　　Whose power hath a true consent
　　With planet or with Element.
　　Som time let Gorgeous Tragedy
　　In Scepter'd Pall com sweeping by,
　　Presenting Thebs, or Pelops line,
　　Or the tale of Troy divine. 100
　　Or what (though rare) of later age,
　　Ennobled hath the Buskind stage.
　　But, O sad Virgin, that thy power
　　Might raise Musaeus from his bower,
　　Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing
　　Such notes as warbled to the string,
　　Drew Iron tears down Pluto's cheek,
　　And made Hell grant what Love did seek.
　　Or call up him that left half told
　　The story of Cambuscan bold, 110
　　Of Camball, and of Algarsife,
　　And who had Canace to wife,
　　That own'd the vertuous Ring and Glass,
　　And of the wondrous Hors of Brass,
　　On which the Tartar King did ride;
　　And if ought els, great Bards beside,
　　In sage and solemn tunes have sung,
　　Of Turneys and of Trophies hung;
　　Of Forests, and inchantments drear,
　　Where more is meant then meets the ear. 120
　　Thus night oft see me in thy pale career,
　　Till civil-suited Morn appeer,
　　Not trickt and frounc't as she was wont,
　　With the Attick Boy to hunt,
　　But Cherchef't in a comly Cloud,
　　While rocking Winds are Piping loud,
　　Or usher'd with a shower still,
　　When the gust hath blown his fill,
　　Ending on the russling Leaves,
　　With minute drops from off the Eaves. 130
　　And when the Sun begins to fling
　　His flaring beams, me Goddes bring
　　To arched walks of twilight groves,
　　And shadows brown that Sylvan loves
　　Of Pine, or monumental Oake,
　　Where the rude Ax with heaved stroke,
　　Was never heard the Nymphs to daunt,
　　Or fright them from their hallow'd haunt.
　　There in close covert by som Brook,
　　Where no profaner eye may look, 140
　　Hide me from Day's garish eie,
　　While the Bee with Honied thie,
　　That at her flowry work doth sing,
　　And the Waters murmuring
　　With such consort as they keep,
　　Entice the dewy-feather'd Sleep;
　　And let som strange mysterious dream,
　　Wave at his Wings in Airy stream,
　　Of lively portrature display'd,
　　Softly on my eye-lids laid. 150
　　And as I wake, sweet musick breath
　　Above, about, or underneath,
　　Sent by som spirit to mortals good,
　　Or th'unseen Genius of the Wood.
　　But let my due feet never fail,
　　To walk the studious Cloysters pale,
　　And love the high embowed Roof
　　With antick Pillars massy proof,
　　And storied Windows richly dight,
　　Casting a dimm religious light. 160
　　There let the pealing Organ blow,
　　To the full voic'd Quire below,
　　In Service high, and Anthems cleer,
　　As may with sweetnes, through mine ear,
　　Dissolve me into extasies,
　　And bring all Heav'n before mine eyes.
　　And may at last my weary age
　　Find out the peacefull hermitage,
　　The Hairy Gown and Mossy Cell,
　　Where I may sit and rightly spell 170
　　Of every Star that Heav'n doth shew,
　　And every Herb that sips the dew;
　　Till old experience do attain
　　To somthing like prophetic strain.
　　These pleasures Melancholy give,
　　And I with thee will choose to live.
　　
　　
　　
　　SONNETS.
　　
　　
　　I
　　
　　O Nightingale, that on yon bloomy Spray
　　Warbl'st at eeve, when all the Woods are still,
　　Thou with fresh hope the Lovers heart dost fill,
　　While the jolly hours lead on propitious May,
　　Thy liquid notes that close the eye of Day,
　　First heard before the shallow Cuccoo's bill
　　Portend success in love; O if Jove's will
　　Have linkt that amorous power to thy soft lay,
　　Now timely sing, ere the rude Bird of Hate
　　Foretell my hopeles doom in som Grove ny: 10
　　As thou from yeer to yeer hast sung too late
　　For my relief; yet hadst no reason why,
　　Whether the Muse, or Love call thee his mate,
　　Both them I serve, and of their train am I.
　　
　　II
　　
　　Donna leggiadra il cui bel nome honora
　　L'herbosa val di Rheno, e il nobil varco,
　　Ben e colui d'ogni valore scarco
　　Qual tuo spirto gentil non innamora,
　　Che dolcemente mostra si di fuora
　　De suoi atti soavi giamai parco,
　　E i don', che son d'amor saette ed arco,
　　La onde l' alta tua virtu s'infiora.
　　Quando tu vaga parli, O lieta canti
　　Che mover possa duro alpestre legno, 10
　　Guardi ciascun a gli occhi ed a gli orecchi
　　L'entrata, chi di te si truova indegno;
　　Gratia sola di su gli vaglia, inanti
　　Che'l disio amoroso al cuor s'invecchi.
　　
　　III
　　
　　Qual in colle aspro, al imbrunir di sera
　　L'avezza giovinetta pastorella
　　Va bagnando l'herbetta strana e bella
　　Che mal si spande a disusata spera
　　Fuor di sua natia alma primavera,
　　Cosi Amor meco insu la lingua snella
　　Desta il fior novo di strania favella,
　　Mentre io di te, vezzosamente altera,
　　Canto, dal mio buon popol non inteso
　　E'l bel Tamigi cangio col bel Arno 10
　　Amor lo volse, ed io a l'altrui peso
　　Seppi ch' Amor cosa mai volse indarno.
　　Deh! foss' il mio cuor lento e'l duro seno
　　A chi pianta dal ciel si buon terreno.
　　
　　Canzone.
　　
　　Ridonsi donne e giovani amorosi
　　M' occostandosi attorno, e perche scrivi,
　　Perche tu scrivi in lingua ignota e strana
　　Verseggiando d'amor, e conie t'osi ?
　　Dinne, se la tua speme sia mai vana
　　E de pensieri lo miglior t' arrivi;
　　Cosi mi van burlando, altri rivi
　　Altri lidi t' aspettan, & altre onde
　　Nelle cui verdi sponde
　　Spuntati ad hor, ad hor a la tua chioma 10
　　L'immortal guiderdon d 'eterne frondi
　　Perche alle spalle tue soverchia soma?
　　Canzon dirotti, e tu per me rispondi
　　Dice mia Donna, e'l suo dir, e il mio cuore
　　Questa e lingua di cui si vanta Amore.
　　
　　IV
　　
　　Diodati, e te'l diro con maraviglia,
　　Quel ritroso io ch'amor spreggiar solea
　　E de suoi lacci spesso mi ridea
　　Gia caddi, ov'huom dabben talhor s'impiglia.
　　Ne treccie d'oro, ne guancia vermiglia
　　M' abbaglian si, ma sotto nova idea
　　Pellegrina bellezza che'l cuor bea,
　　Portamenti alti honesti, e nelle ciglia
　　Quel sereno fulgor d' amabil nero,
　　Parole adorne di lingua piu d'una, 10
　　E'l cantar che di mezzo l'hemispero
　　Traviar ben puo la faticosa Luna,
　　E degil occhi suoi auventa si gran fuoco
　　Che l 'incerar gli oreechi mi fia poco.
　　
　　V
　　
　　Per certo i bei vostr'occhi Donna mia
　　Esser non puo che non fian lo mio sole
　　Si mi percuoton forte, come ci suole
　　Per l'arene di Libia chi s'invia,
　　Mentre un caldo vapor (ne senti pria)
　　Da quel lato si spinge ove mi duole,
　　Che forsi amanti nelle lor parole
　　Chiaman sospir; io non so che si sia:
　　Parte rinchiusa, e turbida si cela
　　Scosso mi il petto, e poi n'uscendo poco 10
　　Quivi d' attorno o s'agghiaccia, o s'ingiela;
　　Ma quanto a gli occhi giunge a trovar loco
　　Tutte le notti a me suol far piovose
　　Finche mia Alba rivien colma di rose.
　　
　　VI
　　
　　Giovane piano, e semplicetto amante
　　Poi che fuggir me stesso in dubbio sono,
　　Madonna a voi del mio cuor l'humil dono
　　Faro divoto; io certo a prove tante
　　L'hebbi fedele, intrepido, costante,
　　De pensieri leggiadro, accorto, e buono;
　　Quando rugge il gran mondo, e scocca il tuono,
　　S 'arma di se, e d' intero diamante,
　　Tanto del forse, e d' invidia sicuro,
　　Di timori, e speranze al popol use 10
　　Quanto d'ingegno, e d' alto valor vago,
　　E di cetra sonora, e delle muse:
　　Sol troverete in tal parte men duro
　　Ove amor mise l 'insanabil ago.
　　
　　VII
　　How soon hath Time the suttle theef of youth,
　　Stoln on his wing my three and twentith yeer !
　　My hasting dayes flie on with full career,
　　But my late spring no bud or blossom shew'th,
　　Perhaps my semblance might deceive the truth,
　　That I to manhood am arriv'd so near,
　　And inward ripenes doth much less appear,
　　That som more timely-happy spirits indu'th.
　　Yet be it less or more, or soon or slow.
　　It shall be still in strictest measure eev'n, 10
　　To that same lot, however mean, or high,
　　Toward which Time leads me, and the will of Heav'n;
　　All is, if I have grace to use it so,
　　As ever in my great task Masters eye.
　　
　　
　　VIII
　　
　　Captain or Colonel, or Knight in Arms,
　　Whose chance on these defenceless dores may sease,
　　If ever deed of honour did thee please,
　　Guard them, and him within protect from harms,
　　He can requite thee, for he knows the charms
　　That call Fame on such gentle acts as these,
　　And he can spred thy Name o're Lands and Seas,
　　What ever clime the Suns bright circle warms.
　　Lift not thy spear against the Muses Bowre,
　　The great Emathian Conqueror bid spare 10
　　The house of Pindarus, when Temple and Towre
　　Went to the ground: And the repeated air
　　Of sad Electra's Poet had the power
　　To save th' Athenian Walls from ruine bare.
　　
　　Notes:
　　Camb. autograph supplies title, When the assault was intended
　　to the city.
　　3 If deed of honour did thee ever please, 1673.
　　
　　IX
　　
　　Lady that in the prime of earliest youth,
　　Wisely hath shun'd the broad way and the green,
　　And with those few art eminently seen,
　　That labour up the Hill of heav'nly Truth,
　　The better part with Mary and with Ruth,
　　Chosen thou hast, and they that overween,
　　And at thy growing vertues fret their spleen,
　　No anger find in thee, but pity and ruth.
　　Thy care is fixt and zealously attends
　　To fill thy odorous Lamp with deeds of light,
　　And Hope that reaps not shame. Therefore be sure
　　Thou, when the Bridegroom with his feastfull friends
　　Passes to bliss at the mid hour of night,
　　Hast gain'd thy entrance, Virgin wise and pure.
　　
　　Note: 5 with Ruth] the Ruth 1645.
　　
　　X
　　
　　Daughter to that good Earl, once President
　　Of Englands Counsel, and her Treasury,
　　Who liv'd in both, unstain'd with gold or fee,
　　And left them both, more in himself content,
　　Till the sad breaking of that Parlament
　　Broke him, as that dishonest victory
　　At Chaeronea, fatal to liberty
　　Kil'd with report that Old man eloquent,
　　Though later born, then to have known the dayes
　　Wherin your Father flourisht, yet by you 10
　　Madam, me thinks I see him living yet;
　　So well your words his noble vertues praise,
　　That all both judge you to relate them true,
　　And to possess them, Honour'd Margaret.
　　
　　Note: Camb. autograph supplies title, To the Lady Margaret
　　Ley.
　　
　　
　　
　　ARCADES.
　　
　　
　　Part of an entertainment presented to the Countess Dowager of
　　Darby at Harefield, by som Noble persons of her Family, who
　　appear on the Scene in pastoral habit, moving toward the seat
　　of State with this Song.
　　
　　I. SONG.
　　
　　LOOK Nymphs, and Shepherds look,
　　What sudden blaze of majesty
　　Is that which we from hence descry
　　Too divine to be mistook:
　　This this is she
　　To whom our vows and wishes bend,
　　Heer our solemn search hath end.
　　
　　Fame that her high worth to raise,
　　Seem'd erst so lavish and profuse,
　　We may justly now accuse 10
　　Of detraction from her praise,
　　Less then half we find exprest,
　　Envy bid conceal the rest.
　　
　　Mark what radiant state she spreds,
　　In circle round her shining throne,
　　Shooting her beams like silver threds,
　　This this is she alone,
　　Sitting like a Goddes bright,
　　In the center of her light.
　　Might she the wise Latona be, 20
　　Or the towred Cybele,
　　Mother of a hunderd gods;
　　Juno dare's not give her odds;
　　Who had thought this clime had held
　　A deity so unparalel'd?
　　
　　As they com forward, the genius of the Wood appears, and
　　turning toward them, speaks.
　　
　　GEN. Stay gentle Swains, for though in this disguise,
　　I see bright honour sparkle through your eyes,
　　Of famous Arcady ye are, and sprung
　　Of that renowned flood, so often sung,
　　Divine Alpheus, who by secret sluse, 30
　　Stole under Seas to meet his Arethuse;
　　And ye the breathing Roses of the Wood,
　　Fair silver-buskind Nymphs as great and good,
　　I know this quest of yours, and free intent
　　Was all in honour and devotion ment
　　To the great Mistres of yon princely shrine,
　　Whom with low reverence I adore as mine,
　　And with all helpful service will comply
　　To further this nights glad solemnity;
　　And lead ye where ye may more neer behold 40
　　What shallow-searching Fame hath left untold;
　　Which I full oft amidst these shades alone
　　Have sate to wonder at, and gaze upon:
　　For know by lot from Jove I am the powr
　　Of this fair wood, and live in Oak'n bowr,
　　To nurse the Saplings tall, and curl the grove
　　With Ringlets quaint, and wanton windings wove.
　　And all my Plants I save from nightly ill,
　　Of noisom winds, and blasting vapours chill.
　　And from the Boughs brush off the evil dew, 50
　　And heal the harms of thwarting thunder blew,
　　Or what the cross dire-looking Planet smites,
　　Or hurtfull Worm with canker'd venom bites.
　　When Eev'ning gray doth rise, I fetch my round
　　Over the mount, and all this hallow'd ground,
　　And early ere the odorous breath of morn
　　Awakes the slumbring leaves, or tasseld horn
　　Shakes the high thicket, haste I all about,
　　Number my ranks, and visit every sprout
　　With puissant words, and murmurs made to bless, 60
　　But els in deep of night when drowsines
　　Hath lockt up mortal sense, then listen I
　　To the celestial Sirens harmony,
　　That sit upon the nine enfolded Sphears,
　　And sing to those that hold the vital shears,
　　And turn the Adamantine spindle round,
　　On which the fate of gods and men is wound.
　　Such sweet compulsion doth in musick ly,
　　To lull the daughters of Necessity,
　　And keep unsteddy Nature to her law, 70
　　And the low world in measur'd motion draw
　　After the heavenly tune, which none can hear
　　Of human mould with grosse unpurged ear;
　　And yet such musick worthiest were to blaze
　　The peerles height of her immortal praise,
　　Whose lustre leads us, and for her most fit,
　　If my inferior hand or voice could hit
　　Inimitable sounds, yet as we go,
　　What ere the skill of lesser gods can show,
　　I will assay, her worth to celebrate, 80
　　And so attend ye toward her glittering state;
　　Where ye may all that are of noble stemm
　　Approach, and kiss her sacred vestures hemm.
　　
　　
　　2. SONG.
　　
　　O're the smooth enameld green
　　Where no print of step hath been,
　　Follow me as I sing,
　　And touch the warbled string.
　　Under the shady roof
　　Of branching Elm Star-proof,
　　Follow me, 90
　　I will bring you where she sits
　　Clad in splendor as befits
　　Her deity.
　　Such a rural Queen
　　All Arcadia hath not seen.
　　
　　
　　3. SONG.
　　
　　Nymphs and Shepherds dance no more
　　By sandy Ladons Lillied banks.
　　On old Lycaeus or Cyllene hoar,
　　Trip no more in twilight ranks,
　　Though Erynanth your loss deplore, 100
　　A better soyl shall give ye thanks.
　　>From the stony Maenalus,
　　Bring your Flocks, and live with us,
　　Here ye shall have greater grace,
　　To serve the Lady of this place.
　　Though Syrinx your Pans Mistres were,
　　Yet Syrinx well might wait on her.
　　Such a rural Queen
　　All Arcadia hath not seen.
　　
　　Note: 22 hunderd] Milton's own spelling here is hundred. But in
　　the Errata to Paradise Lost (i. 760) he corrects hundred to hunderd.
　　
　　
　　
　　Transcriber's note: Facsimile of Title page of Lycidas follows:
　　
　　
　　 JUSTA
　　 EDOVARDO KING
　　 naufrago,
　　 ab
　　 Amicis Moerentibus,
　　 amoris
　　 &
　　 mneias chaein
　　------------------------------------------------------------
　　------------------------------------------------------------
　　 Sirecte calculam ponas, ubique naufragium est.
　　 Pet. Arb.
　　------------------------------------------------------------
　　------------------------------------------------------------
　　 CANTABRIGIAE:
　　 Apud Thomam Buck, & Rogerum Daniel, celeberrimae
　　 Academiae typographos. 1638.
　　
　　
　　
　　LYCIDAS.
　　
　　
　　In this Monody the Author bewails a learned Friend,
　　unfortunatly drown'd in his Passage from Chester on the Irish
　　Seas, 1637. And by occasion foretels the ruine of our
　　corrupted Clergy then in their height.
　　
　　YET once more, O ye Laurels, and once more
　　Ye Myrtles brown, with Ivy never-sear,
　　I com to pluck your Berries harsh and crude,
　　And with forc'd fingers rude,
　　Shatter your leaves before the mellowing year.
　　Bitter constraint, and sad occasion dear,
　　Compels me to disturb your season due:
　　For Lycidas is dead, dead ere his prime
　　Young Lycidas, and hath not left his peer:
　　Who would not sing for Lycidas? he knew
　　Himself to sing, and build the lofty rhyme. 10
　　He must not flote upon his watry bear
　　Unwept, and welter to the parching wind,
　　Without the meed of som melodious tear.
　　
　　Begin then, Sisters of the sacred well,
　　That from beneath the seat of Jove doth spring,
　　Begin, and somwhat loudly sweep the string.
　　Hence with denial vain, and coy excuse,
　　So may som gentle Muse
　　With lucky words favour my destin'd Urn, 20
　　And as he passes turn,
　　And bid fair peace be to my sable shrowd.
　　For we were nurst upon the self-same hill,
　　Fed the same flock by fountain, shade, and rill.
　　
　　Together both, ere the high Lawns appear'd
　　Under the opening eye-lids of the morn,
　　We drove a field and both together heard
　　What time the Gray-fly winds her sultry horn,
　　Batt'ning our flocks with the fresh dews of night,
　　Oft till the Star that rose, at Ev'ning, bright 30
　　Toward Heav'ns descent had slop'd his westering wheel.
　　Mean while the Rural ditties were not mute,
　　Temper'd to th'Oaten Flute;
　　Rough Satyrs danc'd, and Fauns with clov'n heel,
　　>From the glad sound would not be absent long,
　　And old Damoetas lov'd to hear our song.
　　
　　But O the heavy change, now thou art gon,
　　Now thou art gon, and never must return!
　　Thee Shepherd, thee the Woods, and desert Caves,
　　With wilde Thyme and the gadding Vine o'regrown, 40
　　And all their echoes mourn.
　　The Willows, and the Hazle Copses green,
　　Shall now no more be seen,
　　Fanning their joyous Leaves to thy soft layes.
　　As killing as the Canker to the Rose,
　　Or Taint-worm to the weanling Herds that graze,
　　Or Frost to Flowers, that their gay wardrop wear,
　　When first the White thorn blows;
　　Such, Lycidas, thy loss to Shepherds ear.
　　
　　Where were ye Nymphs when the remorseless deep 50
　　Clos'd o're the head of your lov'd Lycidas?
　　For neither were ye playing on the steep,
　　Where your old Bards, the famous Druids ly,
　　Nor on the shaggy top of Mona high,
　　Nor yet where Deva spreads her wisard stream:
　　Ay me, I fondly dream!
　　Had ye bin there -- for what could that have don?
　　What could the Muse her self that Orpheus bore,
　　The Muse her self, for her inchanting son
　　Whom Universal nature did lament, 60
　　When by the rout that made the hideous roar,
　　His goary visage down the stream was sent,
　　Down the swift Hebrus to the Lesbian shore.
　　
　　Alas! What boots it with uncessant care
　　To tend the homely slighted Shepherds trade,
　　And strictly meditate the thankles Muse,
　　Were it not better don as others use,
　　To sport with Amaryllis in the shade,
　　Or with the tangles of Neaera's hair?
　　Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise 70
　　(That last infirmity of Noble mind)
　　To scorn delights, and live laborious dayes:
　　But the fair Guerdon when we hope to find,
　　And think to burst out into sudden blaze.
　　Comes the blind Fury with th'abhorred shears,
　　And slits the thin spun life. But not the praise,
　　Phoebus repli'd, and touch'd my trembling ears;
　　Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil,
　　Nor in the glistering foil
　　Set off to th'world, nor in broad rumour lies, 80
　　But lives and spreds aloft by those pure eyes,
　　And perfet witnes of all judging Jove;
　　As he pronounces lastly on each deed,
　　Of so much fame in Heav'n expect thy meed.
　　
　　O Fountain Arethuse, and thou honour'd floud,
　　Smooth-sliding Mincius, crown'd with vocall reeds,
　　That strain I heard was of a higher mood:
　　But now my Oate proceeds,
　　And listens to the Herald of the Sea
　　That came in Neptune's plea, 90
　　He ask'd the Waves, and ask'd the Fellon winds,
　　What hard mishap hath doom'd this gentle swain?
　　And question'd every gust of rugged wings
　　That blows from off each beaked Promontory,
　　They knew not of his story,
　　And sage Hippotades their answer brings,
　　That not a blast was from his dungeon stray'd,
　　The Ayr was calm, and on the level brine,
　　Sleek Panope with all her sisters play'd.
　　It was that fatall and perfidious Bark 100
　　Built in th'eclipse, and rigg'd with curses dark,
　　That sunk so low that sacred head of thine.
　　
　　Next Camus, reverend Sire, went footing slow,
　　His Mantle hairy, and his Bonnet sedge,
　　Inwrought with figures dim, and on the edge
　　Like to that sanguine flower inscrib'd with woe.
　　Ah; Who hath reft (quoth he) my dearest pledge?
　　Last came, and last did go,
　　The Pilot of the Galilean lake,
　　Two massy Keyes he bore of metals twain, 110
　　(The Golden opes, the Iron shuts amain)
　　He shook his Miter'd locks, and stern bespake,
　　How well could I have spar'd for thee, young swain,
　　Anow of such as for their bellies sake,
　　Creep and intrude, and climb into the fold?
　　Of other care they little reck'ning make,
　　Then how to scramble at the shearers feast,
　　And shove away the worthy bidden guest.
　　Blind mouthes! that scarce themselves know how to hold
　　A Sheep-hook, or have learn'd ought els the least 120
　　That to the faithfull Herdmans art belongs!
　　What recks it them? What need they? They are sped;
　　And when they list, their lean and flashy songs
　　Grate on their scrannel Pipes of wretched straw,
　　The hungry Sheep look up, and are not fed,
　　But swoln with wind, and the rank mist they draw,
　　Rot inwardly, and foul contagion spread:
　　Besides what the grim Woolf with privy paw
　　Daily devours apace, and nothing sed,
　　But that two-handed engine at the door, 130
　　Stands ready to smite once, and smite no more.
　　
　　Return Alpheus, the dread voice is past,
　　That shrunk thy streams; Return Sicilian Muse,
　　And call the Vales, and bid them hither cast
　　Their Bels, and Flourets of a thousand hues.
　　Ye valleys low where the milde whispers use,
　　Of shades and wanton winds, and gushing brooks,
　　On whose fresh lap the swart Star sparely looks,
　　Throw hither all your quaint enameld eyes,
　　That on the green terf suck the honied showres, 140
　　And purple all the ground with vernal flowres.
　　Bring the rathe Primrose that forsaken dies.
　　The tufted Crow-toe, and pale Gessamine,
　　The white Pink, and the Pansie freakt with jeat,
　　The glowing Violet.
　　The Musk-rose, and the well attir'd Woodbine.
　　With Cowslips wan that hang the pensive hed,
　　And every flower that sad embroidery wears:
　　Bid Amaranthus all his beauty shed,
　　Daffadillies fill their cups with tears, 150
　　And strew the Laureat Herse where Lycid lies.
　　For so to interpose a little ease,
　　Let our frail thoughts dally with false surmise.
　　Ah me! Whilst thee the shores, and sounding Seas
　　Wash far away, where ere thy bones are hurl'd
　　Whether beyond the stormy Hebrides.
　　Where thou perhaps under the whelming tide
　　Visit'st the bottom of the monstrous world;
　　Or whether thou to our moist vows deny'd,
　　Sleep'st by the fable of Bellerus old, 160
　　Where the great vision of the guarded Mount
　　Looks toward Namancos and Bayona's hold;
　　Look homeward Angel now, and melt with ruth.
　　And, O ye Dolphins, waft the haples youth.
　　
　　Weep no more, woful Shepherds weep no more,
　　For Lycidas your sorrow is not dead,
　　Sunk though he be beneath the watry floar,
　　So sinks the day-star in the Ocean bed,
　　And yet anon repairs his drooping head,
　　And tricks his beams, and with new spangled Ore, 170
　　Flames in the forehead of the morning sky:
　　So Lycidas sunk low, but mounted high,
　　Through the dear might of him that walk'd the waves
　　Where other groves, and other streams along,
　　With Nectar pure his oozy Lock's he laves,
　　And hears the unexpressive nuptiall Song,
　　In the blest Kingdoms meek of joy and love.
　　There entertain him all the Saints above,
　　In solemn troops, and sweet Societies
　　That sing, and singing in their glory move, 180
　　And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes.
　　Now Lycidas the Shepherds weep no more;
　　Hence forth thou art the Genius of the shore,
　　In thy large recompense and shalt be good
　　To all that wander in that perilous flood.
　　
　　Thus sang the uncouth Swain to th'Okes and rills,
　　While the still morn went out with Sandals gray,
　　He touch'd the tender stops of various Quills,
　　With eager thought warbling his Dorick lay:
　　And now the Sun had stretch'd out all the hills, 190
　　And now was dropt into the Western bay;
　　At last he rose, and twitch'd his Mantle blew:
　　To morrow to fresh Woods, and Pastures new.
　　
　　Notes:
　　 64 uncessant] Manuscript reads incessant, so that uncessant
　　is probably a misprint; though that spelling is retained in the Second
　　Edition.
　　 82 perfet] So in Comus, line 203. In both these places
　　the manuscript has perfect, as elsewhere where the word occurs. In
　　the Solemn Music, line 23, where the First Edition reads perfect,
　　the second reads perfet.
　　149 Amaranthus] Amarantus
　　
　　
　　
　　Transcriber's note: Facsimile of Title page of Comus follows:
　　
　　 A MASKE
　　 PRESENTED
　　 At Ludlow Castle,
　　 1634:
　　
　　 On Michalemasse night, before the
　　 RIGHT HONORABLE,
　　 IOHN Earle of Bridgewater, Viscount Brackly,
　　 Lord President of WALES, and one of
　　 His MAIESTIES most honorable
　　 Privie Counsell.
　　
　　------------------------------------------------------------
　　 Eheu quid volui misero mihi! floribus austrum
　　 Perditus ------------------
　　------------------------------------------------------------
　　
　　 LONDON
　　 Printed for HYMPHREY ROBINSON
　　 at the signe of the Three Pidgeons in
　　 Pauls Church-yard. 1637.
　　
　　
　　
　　To the Right Honourable, John Lord Vicount Bracly, Son and
　　Heir apparent to the Earl of Bridgewater, &c.
　　
　　
　　My LORD,
　　
　　This Poem, which receiv'd its first occasion of Birth from your
　　Self, and others of your Noble Family, and much honour from
　　your own Person in the performance, now returns again to
　　make a finall Dedication of it self to you. Although not openly
　　acknowledg'd by the Author, yet it is a legitimate off-spring, so
　　lovely, and so much desired, that the often Copying of it hath
　　tired my Pen to give my several friends satisfaction, and brought
　　me to a necessity of producing it to the publike view; and now
　　to offer it up in all rightfull devotion to those fair Hopes, and
　　rare endowments of your much-promising Youth, which give a
　　full assurance, to all that know you, of a future excellence. Live
　　sweet Lord to be the honour of your Name, and receive this as
　　your own, from the hands of him, who hath by many favours
　　been long oblig'd to your most honour'd Parents, and as in this
　　representation your attendant Thyrsis, so now in all reall
　　expression
　　
　　Your faithfull, and most humble Servant
　　
　　H. LAWES.
　　
　　
　　Note: Dedication to Vicount Bracly: Omitted in 1673.
　　
　　
　　
　　The Copy of a Letter writt'n by Sir HENRY WOOTTON, to
　　the Author, upon the following Poem.
　　
　　
　　>From the Colledge, this 13. of April, 1638.
　　
　　SIR,
　　It was a special favour, when you lately bestowed upon me
　　here, the first taste of your acquaintance, though no longer then
　　to make me know that I wanted more time to value it, and to
　　enjoy it rightly; and in truth, if I could then have imagined your
　　farther stay in these parts, which I understood afterwards by
　　Mr. H. I would have been bold in our vulgar phrase to mend my
　　draught (for you left me with an extreme thirst) and to have
　　begged your conversation again, joyntly with your said learned
　　Friend, at a poor meal or two, that we might have banded
　　together som good Authors of the antient time: Among which, I
　　observed you to have been familiar.
　　
　　Since your going, you have charg'd me with new Obligations,
　　both for a very kinde Letter from you dated the sixth of this
　　Month, and for a dainty peece of entertainment which came
　　therwith. Wherin I should much commend the Tragical part, if
　　the Lyrical did not ravish me with a certain Dorique delicacy in
　　your Songs and Odes, wherunto I must plainly confess to have
　　seen yet nothing parallel in our Language: Ipsa mollities.
　　But I must not omit to tell you, that I now onely owe you
　　thanks for intimating unto me (how modestly soever) the true
　　Artificer. For the work it self I had view'd som good while
　　before, with singular delight, having receiv'd it from our
　　common Friend Mr. R. in the very close of the late R's Poems,
　　Printed at Oxford, wherunto it was added (as I now suppose)
　　that the Accessory might help out the Principal, according to
　　the Art of Stationers, and to leave the Reader Con la bocca
　　dolce.
　　
　　Now Sir, concerning your travels, wherin I may challenge a
　　little more priviledge of Discours with you; I suppose you will
　　not blanch Paris in your way; therfore I have been bold to
　　trouble you with a few lines to Mr. M. B. whom you shall easily
　　find attending the young Lord S. as his Governour, and you
　　may surely receive from him good directions for the shaping of
　　your farther journey into Italy, where he did reside by my choice
　　som time for the King, after mine own recess from Venice.
　　
　　I should think that your best Line will be thorow the whole
　　length of France to Marseilles, and thence by Sea to Genoa,
　　whence the passage into Tuscany is as Diurnal as a Gravesend
　　Barge: I hasten as you do to Florence, or Siena, the rather tell
　　you a short story from the interest you have given me in your
　　safety.
　　
　　At Siena I was tabled in the House of one Alberto Scipioni, an
　　old Roman Courtier in dangerous times, having bin Steward to
　　the Duca di Pagliano, who with all his Family were strangled
　　save this onely man that escap'd by foresight of the Tempest:
　　With him I had often much chat of those affairs; Into which he
　　took pleasure to look back from his Native Harbour: and at my
　　departure toward Rome (which had been the center of his
　　experience) I had wonn confidence enough to beg his advice,
　　how I might carry my self securely there, without offence of
　　mine own conscience. Signor Arrigo mio (sayes he) I pensieri
　　stretti, & il viso sciolto, will go safely over the whole World: Of
　　which Delphian Oracle (for so I have found it) your judgement
　　doth need no commentary; and therfore (Sir) I will commit you
　　with it to the best of all securities, Gods dear love, remaining
　　
　　Your Friend as much at command as any of longer date,
　　
　　Henry Wootton.
　　
　　Postscript.
　　
　　SIR, I have expressly sent this my Foot-boy to prevent your
　　departure without som acknowledgement from me of the
　　receipt of your obliging Letter, having myself through som
　　busines, I know not how, neglected the ordinary conveyance.
　　In any part where I shall understand you fixed, I shall be glad,
　　and diligent to entertain you with Home-Novelties; even for
　　som fomentation of our friendship, too soon interrupted in the
　　Cradle.
　　
　　Note: Letter from Sir Henry Wootton: Omitted in 1673
　　
　　
　　
　　A MASK PRESENTED At LUDLOW-Castle, 1634. &c.
　　
　　
　　The Persons.
　　
　　The attendant Spirit afterwards in the habit of Thyrsis.
　　Comus with his crew.
　　The Lady.
　　1. Brother.
　　2. Brother.
　　Sabrina the Nymph.
　　
　　The cheif persons which presented, were
　　The Lord Bracly.
　　Mr. Thomas Egerton his Brother,
　　The Lady Alice Egerton.
　　
　　
　　The first Scene discovers a wilde Wood.
　　
　　The attendant Spirit descends or enters.
　　
　　Spir: Before the starry threshold of Joves Court
　　My mansion is, where those immortal shapes
　　Of bright aereal Spirits live insphear'd
　　In Regions milde of calm and serene Ayr,
　　Above the smoak and stirr of this dim spot,
　　Which men call Earth, and with low-thoughted care
　　Confin'd, and pester'd in this pin-fold here,
　　Strive to keep up a frail, and Feaverish being
　　Unmindfull of the crown that Vertue gives
　　After this mortal change, to her true Servants 10
　　Amongst the enthron'd gods on Sainted seats.
　　Yet som there he that by due steps aspire
　　To lay their just hands on that Golden Key
　　That ope's the Palace of Eternity:
　　To such my errand is, and but for such,
　　I would not soil these pure Ambrosial weeds,
　　With the rank vapours of this Sin-worn mould.
　　But to my task. Neptune besides the sway
　　Of every salt Flood, and each ebbing Stream,
　　Took in by lot 'twixt high, and neather Jove, 20
　　Imperial rule of all the Sea-girt Iles
　　That like to rich, and various gemms inlay
　　The unadorned boosom of the Deep,
　　Which he to grace his tributary gods
　　By course commits to severall government,
　　And gives them leave to wear their Saphire crowns,
　　And weild their little tridents, but this Ile
　　The greatest, and the best of all the main
　　He quarters to his blu-hair'd deities,
　　And all this tract that fronts the falling Sun 30
　　A noble Peer of mickle trust, and power
　　Has in his charge, with temper'd awe to guide
　　An old, and haughty Nation proud in Arms:
　　Where his fair off-spring nurs't in Princely lore,
　　Are coming to attend their Fathers state,
　　And new-entrusted Scepter, but their way
　　Lies through the perplex't paths of this drear Wood,
　　The nodding horror of whose shady brows
　　Threats the forlorn and wandring Passinger.
　　And here their tender age might suffer perill, 40
　　But that by quick command from Soveran Jove
　　I was dispatcht for their defence, and guard;
　　And listen why, for I will tell ye now
　　What never yet was heard in Tale or Song
　　>From old, or modern Bard in Hall, or Bowr.
　　Bacchus that first from out the purple Grape,
　　Crush't the sweet poyson of mis-used Wine
　　After the Tuscan Mariners transform'd
　　Coasting the Tyrrhene shore, as the winds listed,
　　On Circes Hand fell (who knows not Circe 50
　　The daughter of the Sun? Whose charmed Cup
　　Whoever tasted, lost his upright shape,
　　And downward fell into a groveling Swine)
　　This Nymph that gaz'd upon his clustring locks,
　　With Ivy berries wreath'd, and his blithe youth,
　　Had by him, ere he parted thence, a Son
　　Much like his Father, but his Mother more,
　　Whom therfore she brought up and Comus named,
　　Who ripe, and frolick of his full grown age,
　　Roving the Celtic, and Iberian fields, 60
　　At last betakes him to this ominous Wood,
　　And in thick shelter of black shades imbowr'd,
　　Excells his Mother at her mighty Art,
　　Offring to every weary Travailer,
　　His orient liquor in a Crystal Glasse,
　　To quench the drouth of Phoebus, which as they taste
　　(For most do taste through fond intemperate thirst )
　　Soon as the Potion works, their human count'nance,
　　Th' express resemblance of the gods, is chang'd
　　Into som brutish form of Woolf, or Bear, 70
　　Or Ounce, or Tiger, Hog, or bearded Goat,
　　All other parts remaining as they were,
　　And they, so perfect is their misery,
　　Not once perceive their foul disfigurement,
　　But boast themselves more comely then before
　　And all their friends, and native home forget
　　To roule with pleasure in a sensual stie.
　　Therfore when any favour'd of high Jove,
　　Chances to pass through this adventrous glade,
　　Swift as the Sparkle of a glancing Star, 80
　　I shoot from Heav'n to give him safe convoy,
　　As now I do: But first I must put off
　　These my skie robes spun out of Iris Wooff,
　　And take the Weeds and likenes of a Swain,
　　That to the service of this house belongs,
　　Who with his soft Pipe, and smooth-dittied Song,
　　Well knows to still the wilde winds when they roar,
　　And hush the waving Woods, nor of lesse faith,
　　And in this office of his Mountain watch,
　　Likeliest, and neerest to the present ayd 90
　　Of this occasion. But I hear the tread
　　Of hatefull steps, I must be viewles now.
　　
　　Comus enters with a Charming Rod in one hand, his Glass in
　　the other, with him a rout of monsters, headed like sundry sorts
　　of wilde Beasts, but otherwise like Men and Women, their
　　Apparel glistring, they come in making a riotous and unruly
　　noise, with Torches in their hands.
　　
　　Co: The Star that bids the Shepherd fold,
　　Now the top of Heav'n doth hold,
　　And the gilded Car of Day,
　　His glowing Axle doth allay
　　In the steep Atlantick stream,
　　And the slope Sun his upward beam
　　Shoots against the dusky Pole,
　　Pacing toward the other gole 100
　　Of his Chamber in the East.
　　Meanwhile welcom Joy, and Feast,
　　Midnight shout, and revelry,
　　Tipsie dance, and Jollity.
　　Braid your Locks with rosie Twine
　　Dropping odours, dropping Wine.
　　Rigor now is gon to bed,
　　And Advice with scrupulous head,
　　Strict Age, and sowre Severity,
　　With their grave Saws in slumber ly. 110
　　We that are of purer fire
　　Imitate the Starry Quire,
　　Who in their nightly watchfull Sphears,
　　Lead in swift round the Months and Years.
　　The Sounds, and Seas with all their finny drove
　　Now to the Moon in wavering Morrice move,
　　And on the Tawny Sands and Shelves,
　　Trip the pert Fairies and the dapper Elves;
　　By dimpled Brook, and Fountain brim,
　　The Wood-Nymphs deckt with Daisies trim, 120
　　Their merry wakes and pastimes keep:
　　What hath night to do with sleep?
　　Night hath better sweets to prove,
　　Venus now wakes, and wak'ns Love.
　　Com let us our rights begin,
　　'Tis onely day-light that makes Sin
　　Which these dun shades will ne're report.
　　Hail Goddesse of Nocturnal sport
　　Dark vaild Cotytto, t' whom the secret flame
　　Of mid-night Torches burns; mysterious Dame 130
　　That ne're art call'd, but when the Dragon woom
　　Of Stygian darknes spets her thickest gloom,
　　And makes one blot of all the ayr,
　　Stay thy cloudy Ebon chair,
　　Wherin thou rid'st with Hecat', and befriend
　　Us thy vow'd Priests, til utmost end
　　Of all thy dues be done, and none left out,
　　Ere the blabbing Eastern scout,
　　The nice Morn on th' Indian steep
　　>From her cabin'd loop hole peep, 140
　　And to the tel-tale Sun discry
　　Our conceal'd Solemnity.
　　Com, knit hands, and beat the ground,
　　In a light fantastick round.
　　
　　The Measure.
　　
　　Break off; break off, I feel the different pace,
　　Of som chast footing neer about this ground.
　　Run to your shrouds, within these Brakes and Trees,
　　Our number may affright: Som Virgin sure
　　(For so I can distinguish by mine Art)
　　Benighted in these Woods. Now to my charms, 150
　　And to my wily trains, I shall e're long
　　Be well stock't with as fair a herd as graz'd
　　About my Mother Circe. Thus I hurl
　　My dazling Spells into the spungy ayr,
　　Of power to cheat the eye with blear illusion,
　　And give it false presentments, lest the place
　　And my quaint habits breed astonishment,
　　And put the Damsel to suspicious flight,
　　Which must not be, for that's against my course;
　　I under fair pretence of friendly ends, 160
　　And well plac't words of glozing courtesie
　　Baited with reasons not unplausible
　　Wind me into the easie-hearted man,
　　And hugg him into snares. When once her eye
　　Hath met the vertue of this Magick dust,
　　I shall appear som harmles Villager
　　Whom thrift keeps up about his Country gear,
　　But here she comes, I fairly step aside,
　　And hearken, if I may, her busines here.
　　
　　The Lady enters.
　　
　　La: This way the noise was, if mine ear be true, 170
　　My best guide now, me thought it was the sound
　　Of Riot, and ill manag'd Merriment,
　　Such as the jocond Flute, or gamesom Pipe
　　Stirs up among the loose unleter'd Hinds,
　　When for their teeming Flocks, and granges full
　　In wanton dance they praise the bounteous Pan,
　　And thank the gods amiss. I should he loath
　　To meet the rudenesse, and swill'd insolence
　　of such late Wassailers; yet O where els
　　Shall I inform my unacquainted feet 180
　　In the blind mazes of this tangl'd Wood?
　　My Brothers when they saw me wearied out
　　With this long way, resolving here to lodge
　　Under the spreading favour of these Pines,
　　Stept as they se'd to the next Thicket side
　　To bring me Berries, or such cooling fruit
　　As the kind hospitable Woods provide.
　　They left me then. when the gray-hooded Eev'n
　　Like a sad Votarist in Palmers weed
　　Rose from the hindmost wheels of Phoebus wain. 190
　　But where they are, and why they came not back,
　　Is now the labour of my thoughts, 'tis likeliest
　　They had ingag'd their wandring steps too far,
　　And envious darknes, e're they could return,
　　Had stole them from me, els O theevish Night
　　Why shouldst thou, but for som fellonious end,
　　In thy dark lantern thus close up the Stars,
　　That nature hung in Heav'n, and fill'd their Lamps
　　With everlasting oil, to give due light
　　To the misled and lonely Travailer? 200
　　This is the place as well as I may guess,
　　Whence eev'n now the tumult of loud Mirth
　　Was rife and perfect in my list'ning ear,
　　Yet nought but single darknes do I find.
　　What might this be? A thousand fantasies
　　Begin to throng into my memory
　　Of calling shapes, and beckning shadows dire,
　　And airy tongues, that syllable mens names
　　On Sands and Shoars and desert Wildernesses.
　　These thoughts may startle well, but not astound 210
　　The vertuous mind that ever walks attended
　　By a strong siding champion Conscience.--
　　O welcom pure-ey'd Faith, white-handed Hope,
　　Thou hovering Angel girt with golden wings.
　　And thou unblemish't form of Chastity,
　　I see ye visibly and now beleeve
　　That he, the Supreme good t'whom all things ill
　　Are but as slavish officers of vengeance,
　　Would send a glistring Guardian if need were
　　To keep my life and honour unassail'd. 220
　　Was I deceiv'd, or did a sable cloud
　　Turn forth her silver lining on the night?
　　I did not err, there does a sable cloud
　　Turn forth her silver lining on the night,
　　And casts a gleam over this tufted Grove.
　　I cannot hallow to my Brothers, but
　　Such noise as I can make to be heard farthest
　　Ile venter, for my new enliv'nd spirits
　　Prompt me; and they perhaps are not far off.
　　
　　SONG.
　　
　　Sweet Echo, sweetest Nymph that liv'st unseen 230
　　Within thy airy shell
　　By slow Meander's margent green,
　　And in the violet imbroider'd vale
　　Where the love-lorn Nightingale
　　Nightly to thee her sad Song mourneth well.
　　Canst thou not tell me of a gentle Pair
　　That likest thy Narcissus are?
　　O if thou have
　　Hid them in som flowry Cave,
　　Tell me but where 240
　　Sweet Queen of Parly, Daughter of the Sphear,
　　So maist thou be translated to the skies,
　　And give resounding grace to all Heav'ns Harmonies.
　　
　　Co: Can any mortal mixture of Earths mould
　　Breath such Divine inchanting ravishment?
　　Sure somthing holy lodges in that brest,
　　And with these raptures moves the vocal air
　　To testifie his hidd'n residence;
　　How sweetly did they float upon the wings
　　Of silence, through the empty-vaulted night 250
　　At every fall smoothing the Raven doune
　　Of darknes till it smil'd: I have oft heard
　　My mother Circe with the Sirens three,
　　Amid'st the flowry-kirtl'd Naiades
　　Culling their Potent hearbs, and balefull drugs.
　　Who as they sung, would take the prison'd soul,
　　And lap it in Elysium, Scylla wept,
　　And chid her barking waves into attention.
　　And fell Charybdis murmur'd soft applause:
　　Yet they in pleasing slumber lull'd the sense, 260
　　And in sweet madnes rob'd it of it self,
　　But such a sacred, and home-felt delight,
　　Such sober certainty of waking bliss
　　I never heard till now. Ile speak to her
　　And she shall be my Queen. Hail forren wonder
　　Whom certain these rough shades did never breed
　　Unlesse the Goddes that in rurall shrine
　　Dwell'st here with Pan, or Silvan, by blest Song
　　Forbidding every bleak unkindly Fog
　　To touch the prosperous growth of this tall Wood. 270
　　
　　La: Nay gentle Shepherd ill is lost that praise
　　That is addrest to unattending Ears,
　　Not any boast of skill, but extreme shift
　　How to regain my sever'd company
　　Compell'd me to awake the courteous Echo
　　To give me answer from her mossie Couch.
　　
　　Co: What chance good Lady hath bereft you thus?
　　
　　La: Dim darknes, and this heavy Labyrinth.
　　
　　Co: Could that divide you from neer-ushering guides?
　　
　　La: They left me weary on a grassie terf. 280
　　
　　Co: By falshood. or discourtesie, or why?
　　
　　La: To seek in vally som cool friendly Spring.
　　
　　Co: And left your fair side all unguarded Lady?
　　
　　La: They were but twain, and purpos'd quick return.
　　
　　Co: Perhaps fore-stalling night prevented them.
　　
　　La: How easie my misfortune is to hit !
　　
　　Co: Imports their loss, beside the present need?
　　
　　La: No less then if I should my brothers loose.
　　
　　Co: Were they of manly prime, or youthful bloom?
　　
　　La: As smooth as Hebe's their unrazor'd lips. 290
　　
　　Co: Two such I saw, what time the labour'd Oxe
　　In his loose traces from the furrow came,
　　And the swink't hedger at his Supper sate;
　　I saw them under a green mantling vine
　　That crawls along the side of yon small hill,
　　Plucking ripe clusters from the tender shoots,
　　Their port was more then human, as they stood;
　　I took it for a faery vision
　　Of som gay creatures of the element
　　That in the colours of the Rainbow live 300
　　And play i'th plighted clouds. I was aw-strook,
　　And as I past, I worshipt: if those you seek
　　It were a journey like the path to Heav'n,
　　To help you find them. La: Gentle villager
　　What readiest way would bring me to that place?
　　
　　Co: Due west it rises from this shrubby point.
　　
　　La: To find out that, good Shepherd, I suppose,
　　In such a scant allowance of Star-light,
　　Would overtask the best Land-Pilots art,
　　Without the sure guess of well-practiz'd feet, 310
　　
　　Co: I know each lane, and every alley green
　　Dingle, or bushy dell of this wilde Wood,
　　And every bosky bourn from side to side
　　My daily walks and ancient neighbourhood,
　　And if your stray attendance be yet lodg'd,
　　Or shroud within these limits, I shall know
　　Ere morrow wake, or the low roosted lark
　　>From her thatch't pallat rowse, if otherwise
　　I can conduct you Lady to a low
　　But loyal cottage, where you may be safe 320
　　Till further quest.
　　 La: Shepherd I take thy word,
　　And trust thy honest offer'd courtesie,
　　Which oft is sooner found in lowly sheds
　　With smoaky rafters, then in tapstry Halls
　　And Courts of Princes, where it first was nam'd,
　　And yet is most pretended: In a place
　　Less warranted then this, or less secure
　　I cannot be, that I should fear to change it.
　　Eie me blest Providence, and square my triall
　　To my proportion'd strength. Shepherd lead on.-- 330
　　
　　The Two Brothers.
　　
　　Eld. Bro: Unmuffle ye faint stars, and thou fair Moon
　　That wontst to love the travailers benizon,
　　Stoop thy pale visage through an amber cloud,
　　And disinherit Chaos, that raigns here
　　In double night of darknes, and of shades;
　　Or if your influence be quite damm'd up
　　With black usurping mists, som gentle taper
　　Though a rush Candle from the wicker hole
　　Of som clay habitation visit us
　　With thy long levell'd rule of streaming light. 340
　　And thou shalt be our star of Arcady,
　　Or Tyrian Cynosure.
　　 2. Bro: Or if our eyes
　　Be barr'd that happines, might we but hear
　　The folded flocks pen'd in their watled cotes,
　　Or sound of pastoral reed with oaten stops,
　　Or whistle from the Lodge, or village cock
　　Count the night watches to his feathery Dames,
　　'Twould be som solace yet, som little chearing
　　In this close dungeon of innumerous bowes.
　　But O that haples virgin our lost sister 350
　　Where may she wander now, whether betake her
　　>From the chill dew, amongst rude burrs and thistles?
　　Perhaps som cold bank is her boulster now
　　Or 'gainst the rugged bark of som broad Elm
　　Leans her unpillow'd head fraught with sad fears.
　　What if in wild amazement, and affright,
　　Or while we speak within the direfull grasp
　　Of Savage hunger, or of Savage heat?
　　
　　Eld. Bro: Peace brother, be not over-exquisite
　　To cast the fashion of uncertain evils; 360
　　For grant they be so, while they rest unknown,
　　What need a man forestall his date of grief
　　And run to meet what he would most avoid?
　　Or if they be but false alarms of Fear,
　　How bitter is such self delusion?
　　I do not think my sister so to seek,
　　Or so unprincipl'd in vertues book,
　　And the sweet peace that goodnes boosoms ever,
　　As that the single want of light and noise
　　(Not being in danger, as I trust she is not) 370
　　Could stir the constant mood of her calm thoughts,
　　And put them into mis-becoming plight.
　　Vertue could see to do what vertue would
　　By her own radiant light, though Sun and Moon
　　Were in the salt sea sunk. And Wisdoms self
　　Oft seeks to sweet retired Solitude,
　　Where with her best nurse Contemplation
　　She plumes her feathers and lets grow her wings
　　That in the various bustle of resort
　　Were all too ruffled and sometimes impaired. 380
　　He that has light within his own deer brest
　　May sit i'th center, and enjoy bright day,
　　But he that hides a dark soul, and foul thoughts
　　Benighted walks under the mid-day Sun;
　　Himself is his own dungeon.
　　
　　2. Bro: Tis most true
　　That musing meditation most affects
　　The pensive secrecy of desert cell,
　　Far from the cheerfull haunt of men, and herds,
　　And sits as safe as in a Senat house,
　　For who would rob a Hermit of his Weeds, 390
　　His few Books, or his Beads, or Maple Dish,
　　Or do his gray hairs any violence?
　　But beauty like the fair Hesperian Tree
　　Laden with blooming gold, had need the guard
　　Of dragon watch with uninchanted eye,
　　To save her blossoms, and defend her fruit
　　>From the rash hand of bold Incontinence.
　　You may as well spred out the unsun'd heaps
　　Of Misers treasure by an out-laws den,
　　And tell me it is safe, as bid me hope 400
　　Danger will wink on Opportunity,
　　And let a single helpless maiden pass
　　Uninjur'd in this wilde surrounding wast.
　　Of night, or lonelines it recks me not,
　　I fear the dred events that dog them both,
　　Lest som ill greeting touch attempt the person
　　Of our unowned sister.
　　
　　Eld. Bro: I do not, brother,
　　Inferr, as if I thought my sisters state
　　Secure without all doubt, or controversie:
　　Yet where an equall poise of hope and fear 410
　　Does arbitrate th'event, my nature is
　　That I encline to hope, rather then fear,
　　And gladly banish squint suspicion.
　　My sister is not so defenceless left
　　As you imagine, she has a hidden strength
　　Which you remember not.
　　
　　2. Bro: What hidden strength,
　　Unless the strength of Heav'n, if you mean that?
　　
　　ELD Bro: I mean that too, but yet a hidden strength
　　Which if Heav'n gave it, may be term'd her own:
　　'Tis chastity, my brother, chastity: 420
　　She that has that, is clad in compleat steel,
　　And like a quiver'd Nymph with Arrows keen
　　May trace huge Forests, and unharbour'd Heaths,
　　Infamous Hills, and sandy perilous wildes,
　　Where through the sacred rayes of Chastity,
　　No savage fierce, Bandite, or mountaneer
　　Will dare to soyl her Virgin purity,
　　Yea there, where very desolation dwels
　　By grots, and caverns shag'd with horrid shades,
　　She may pass on with unblench't majesty, 430
　　Be it not don in pride, or in presumption.
　　Som say no evil thing that walks by night
　　In fog, or fire, by lake, or moorish fen,
　　Blew meager Hag, or stubborn unlaid ghost,
　　That breaks his magick chains at curfeu time,
　　No goblin, or swart faery of the mine,
　　Hath hurtfull power o're true virginity.
　　Do ye beleeve me yet, or shall I call
　　Antiquity from the old Schools of Greece
　　To testifie the arms of Chastity? 440
　　Hence had the huntress Dian her dred bow
　　Fair silver-shafted Queen for ever chaste,
　　Wherwith she tam'd the brinded lioness
　　And spotted mountain pard, but set at nought
　　The frivolous bolt of Cupid, gods and men
　　Fear'd her stern frown, and she was queen oth' Woods.
　　What was that snaky-headed Gorgon sheild
　　That wise Minerva wore, unconquer'd Virgin,
　　Wherwith she freez'd her foes to congeal'd stone?
　　But rigid looks of Chast austerity, 450
　　And noble grace that dash't brute violence
　　With sudden adoration, and blank aw.
　　So dear to Heav'n is Saintly chastity,
　　That when a soul is found sincerely so,
　　A thousand liveried Angels lacky her,
　　Driving far off each thing of sin and guilt,
　　And in cleer dream, and solemn vision
　　Tell her of things that no gross ear can hear,
　　Till oft convers with heav'nly habitants
　　Begin to cast a beam on th'outward shape, 460
　　The unpolluted temple of the mind.
　　And turns it by degrees to the souls essence,
　　Till all be made immortal: but when lust
　　By unchaste looks, loose gestures, and foul talk,
　　But most by leud and lavish act of sin,
　　Lets in defilement to the inward parts,
　　The soul grows clotted by contagion,
　　Imbodies, and imbrutes, till she quite loose
　　The divine property of her first being.
　　Such are those thick and gloomy shadows damp 470
　　Oft seen in Charnell vaults, and Sepulchers
　　Lingering, and sitting by a new made grave,
　　As loath to leave the body that it lov'd,
　　And link't it self by carnal sensualty
　　To a degenerate and degraded state.
　　
　　2. Bro: How charming is divine Philosophy !
　　Not harsh, and crabbed as dull fools suppose,
　　But musical as is Apollo's lute,
　　And a perpetual feast of nectar'd sweets,
　　Where no crude surfet raigns.
　　 Eld. Bro: List, list, I hear 480
　　Som far off hallow break the silent Air.
　　
　　2. Bro: Me thought so too; what should it be?
　　
　　Eld. Bro: For certain
　　Either som one like us night-founder'd here,
　　Or els som neighbour Wood-man, or at worst,
　　Som roaving robber calling to his fellows.
　　
　　2. Bro: Heav'n keep my sister, agen agen and neer,
　　Best draw, and stand upon our guard.
　　
　　Eld. Bro: Ile hallow,
　　If he be friendly he comes well, if not,
　　Defence is a good cause, and Heav'n be for us.
　　
　　[Enter] The attendant Spirit habited like a Shepherd.
　　
　　That hallow I should know, what are you? speak; 490
　　Com not too neer, you fall on iron stakes else.
　　
　　Spir: What voice is that, my young Lord? speak agen.
　　
　　2. Bro: O brother, 'tis my father Shepherd sure.
　　
　　Eld. Bro: Thyrsis? Whose artful strains have oft delaid
　　The huddling brook to hear his madrigal,
　　And sweeten'd every muskrose of the dale,
　　How cam'st thou here good Swain? hath any ram
　　Slip't from the fold, or young Kid lost his dam,
　　Or straggling weather the pen't flock forsook?
　　How couldst thou find this dark sequester'd nook? 500
　　
　　Spir: O my lov'd masters heir, and his next joy,
　　I came not here on such a trivial toy
　　As a stray'd Ewe, or to pursue the stealth
　　Of pilfering Woolf, not all the fleecy wealth
　　That doth enrich these Downs, is worth a thought
　　To this my errand, and the care it brought.
　　But O my Virgin Lady, where is she?
　　How chance she is not in your company?
　　
　　Eld. Bro: To tell thee sadly Shepherd, without blame
　　Or our neglect, we lost her as we came. 510
　　
　　Spir: Ay me unhappy then my fears are true.
　　
　　Eld. Bro: What fears good Thyrsis? Prethee briefly shew.
　　
　　Spir: Ile tell ye, 'tis not vain or fabulous,
　　(Though so esteem'd by shallow ignorance)
　　What the sage Poets taught by th' heav'nly Muse,
　　Storied of old in high immortal vers
　　Of dire Chimera's and inchanted Iles,
　　And rifted Rocks whose entrance leads to hell,
　　For such there be, but unbelief is blind.
　　Within the navil of this hideous Wood, 520
　　Immur'd in cypress shades a Sorcerer dwels
　　Of Bacchus, and of Circe born, great Comus,
　　Deep skill'd in all his mothers witcheries,
　　And here to every thirsty wanderer,
　　By sly enticement gives his banefull cup,
　　With many murmurs mixt, whose pleasing poison
　　The visage quite transforms of him that drinks,
　　And the inglorious likenes of a beast
　　Fixes instead, unmoulding reasons mintage
　　Character'd in the Face; this have I learn't 530
　　Tending my flocks hard by i'th hilly crofts,
　　That brow this bottom glade, whence night by night
　　He and his monstrous rout are heard to howl
　　Like stabl'd wolves, or tigers at their prey,
　　Doing abhorred rites to Hecate
　　In their obscured haunts of inmost bowres.
　　Yet have they many baits, and guilefull spells
　　To inveigle and invite th' unwary sense
　　Of them that pass unweeting by the way.
　　This evening late by then the chewing flocks 540
　　Had ta'n their supper on the savoury Herb
　　Of Knot-grass dew-besprent, and were in fold,
　　I sate me down to watch upon a bank
　　With Ivy canopied, and interwove
　　With flaunting Hony-suckle, and began
　　Wrapt in a pleasing fit of melancholy
　　To meditate my rural minstrelsie,
　　Till fancy had her fill, but ere a close
　　The wonted roar was up amidst the Woods,
　　And fill'd the Air with barbarous dissonance, 550
　　At which I ceas' t, and listen'd them a while,
　　Till an unusuall stop of sudden silence
　　Gave respit to the drowsie frighted steeds
　　That draw the litter of close-curtain'd sleep.
　　At last a soft and solemn breathing sound
　　Rose like a steam of rich distill'd Perfumes,
　　And stole upon the Air, that even Silence
　　Was took e're she was ware, and wish't she might
　　Deny her nature, and be never more
　　Still to be so displac't. I was all eare, 560
　　And took in strains that might create a soul
　　Under the ribs of Death, but O ere long
　　Too well I did perceive it was the voice
　　Of my most honour'd Lady, your dear sister.
　　Amaz'd I stood, harrow'd with grief and fear,
　　And O poor hapless Nightingale thought I,
　　How sweet thou sing'st, how neer the deadly snare!
　　Then down the Lawns I ran with headlong hast
　　Through paths, and turnings oft'n trod by day,
　　Till guided by mine ear I found the place 570
　　Where that damn'd wisard hid in sly disguise
　　(For so by certain signes I knew) had met
　　Already, ere my best speed could praevent,
　　The aidless innocent Lady his wish't prey,
　　Who gently ask't if he had seen such two,
　　Supposing him som neighbour villager;
　　Longer I durst not stay, but soon I guess't
　　Ye were the two she mean't, with that I sprung
　　Into swift flight, till I had found you here,
　　But furder know I not.
　　 2. Bro: O night and shades, 580
　　How are ye joyn'd with hell in triple knot
　　Against th'unarmed weakness of one Virgin
　　Alone, and helpless! Is this the confidence
　　You gave me Brother?
　　 Eld. Bro: Yes, and keep it still,
　　Lean on it safely, not a period
　　Shall be unsaid for me: against the threats
　　Of malice or of sorcery, or that power
　　Which erring men call Chance, this I hold firm,
　　Vertue may be assail'd, but never hurt,
　　Surpriz'd by unjust force, but not enthrall'd, 590
　　Yea even that which mischief meant most harm,
　　Shall in the happy trial prove most glory.
　　But evil on it self shall back recoyl,
　　And mix no more with goodness, when at last
　　Gather'd like scum, and setl'd to it self
　　It shall be in eternal restless change
　　Self-fed, and self-consum'd, if this fail,
　　The pillar'd firmament is rott'nness,
　　And earths base built on stubble. But corn let's on.
　　Against th' opposing will and arm of Heav'n 600
　　May never this just sword be lifted up,
　　But for that damn'd magician, let him be girt
　　With all the greisly legions that troop
　　Under the sooty flag of Acheron,
　　Harpyies and Hydra's, or all the monstrous forms
　　'Twixt Africa and Inde, Ile find him out,
　　And force him to restore his purchase back,
　　Or drag him by the curls, to a foul death,
　　Curs'd as his life.
　　
　　Spir: Alas good ventrous youth,
　　I love thy courage yet, and bold Emprise, 610
　　But here thy sword can do thee little stead,
　　Farr other arms, and other weapons must
　　Be those that quell the might of hellish charms,
　　He with his bare wand can unthred thy joynts,
　　And crumble all thy sinews.
　　
　　Eld. Bro: Why prethee Shepherd
　　How durst thou then thy self approach so neer
　　As to make this relation?
　　
　　Spir: Care and utmost shifts
　　How to secure the lady from surprisal,
　　Brought to my mind a certain Shepherd Lad
　　Of small regard to see to, yet well skill'd 620
　　In every vertuous plant and healing herb
　　That spreds her verdant leaf to th'morning ray,
　　He lov'd me well, and oft would beg me sing,
　　Which when I did, he on the tender grass
　　Would sit, and hearken even to extasie,
　　And in requitall ope his leather'n scrip,
　　And shew me simples of a thousand names
　　Telling their strange and vigorous faculties;
　　Amongst the rest a small unsightly root,
　　But of divine effect, he cull'd me out; 630
　　The leaf was darkish, and had prickles on it,
　　But in another Countrey, as he said,
　　Bore a bright golden flowre, but not in this soyl:
　　Unknown, and like esteem'd, and the dull swayn
　　Treads on it daily with his clouted shoon,
　　And yet more med'cinal is it then that Moly
　　That Hermes once to wise Ulysses gave;
　　He call'd it Haemony, and gave it me,
　　And bad me keep it as of sov'ran use
　　'Gainst all inchantments, mildew blast, or damp 640
　　Or gastly furies apparition;
　　I purs't it up, but little reck'ning made,
　　Till now that this extremity compell'd,
　　But now I find it true; for by this means
　　I knew the foul inchanter though disguis'd,
　　Enter'd the very lime-twigs of his spells,
　　And yet came off: if you have this about you
　　(As I will give you when we go) you may
　　Boldly assault the necromancers hall;
　　Where if he be, with dauntless hardihood, 650
　　And brandish't blade rush on him, break his glass,
　　And shed the lushious liquor on the ground,
　　But sease his wand, though he and his curst crew
　　Feirce signe of battail make, and menace high,
　　Or like the sons of Vulcan vomit smoak,
　　Yet will they soon retire, if he but shrink.
　　
　　Eld. Bro: Thyrsis lead on apace, Ile follow thee,
　　And som good angel bear a sheild before us.
　　
　　The scene changes to a stately Palace, set out with all manner of
　　deliciousness; Soft Musick, Tables spred with all dainties.
　　Comus appears with his rabble. and the Lady set in an inchanted
　　Chair, to whom he offers his Glass, which she puts by, and goes
　　about to rise.
　　
　　COMUS: Nay Lady sit; if I but wave this wand
　　Your nerves are all chain'd up in Alablaster, 660
　　And you a statue; or as Daphne was
　　Root-bound, that fled Apollo.
　　
　　La: Fool do not boast,
　　Thou canst not touch the freedom of my minde
　　With all thy charms, although this corporal rinde
　　Thou haste immanacl'd, while Heav'n sees good.
　　
　　Co: Why are you vext Lady? why do you frown
　　Here dwell no frowns, nor anger, from these gates
　　Sorrow flies farr: See here be all the pleasures
　　That fancy can beget on youthfull thoughts,
　　When the fresh blood grows lively, and returns 670
　　Brisk as the April buds in Primrose-season.
　　And first behold this cordial Julep here
　　That flames, and dances in his crystal bounds
　　With spirits of balm, and fragrant Syrops mixt.
　　Not that Nepenthes which the wife of Thone,
　　In Egypt gave to Jove-born Helena
　　Is of such power to stir up joy as this,
　　To life so friendly, or so cool to thirst.
　　Why should you be so cruel to your self,
　　And to those dainty limms which nature lent 680
　　For gentle usage, and soft delicacy?
　　But you invert the cov'nants of her trust,
　　And harshly deal like an ill borrower
　　With that which you receiv'd on other terms,
　　Scorning the unexempt condition
　　By which all mortal frailty must subsist,
　　Refreshment after toil, ease after pain,
　　That have been tir'd all day without repast,
　　And timely rest have wanted, but fair Virgin
　　This will restore all soon.
　　
　　La: 'Twill not false traitor, 690
　　'Twill not restore the truth and honesty
　　That thou hast banish't from thy tongue with lies
　　Was this the cottage, and the safe abode
　　Thou told'st me of? What grim aspects are these
　　These oughly-headed Monsters? Mercy guard me!
　　Hence with thy brew'd inchantments, foul deceit
　　Hast thou betrai'd my credulous innocence
　　With visor'd falshood, and base forgery,
　　And wouldst thou seek again to trap me here
　　With lickerish baits fit to ensnare a brute? 700
　　Were it a draft for Juno when she banquets,
　　I would not taste thy treasonous offer; none
　　But such as are good men can give good things,
　　And that which is not good, is not delicious
　　To a well-govern'd and wise appetite.
　　
　　Co: O foolishnes of men ! that lend their ears
　　To those budge doctors of the Stoick Furr,
　　And fetch their precepts from the Cynick Tub,
　　Praising the lean and sallow Abstinence.
　　Wherefore did Nature powre her bounties forth, 710
　　With such a full and unwithdrawing hand,
　　Covering the earth with odours, fruits, and flocks,
　　Thronging the Seas with spawn innumerable,
　　But all to please, and sate the curious taste?
　　And set to work millions of spinning Worms,
　　That in their green shops weave the smooth-hair'd silk
　　To deck her Sons, and that no corner might
　　Be vacant of her plenty, in her own loyns
　　She hutch't th'all-worshipt ore, and precious gems
　　To store her children with; if all the world 720
　　Should in a pet of temperance feed on Pulse,
　　Drink the clear stream, and nothing wear but Freize,
　　Th'all-giver would be unthank't, would be unprais'd,
　　Not half his riches known, and yet despis'd,
　　And we should serve him as a grudging master,
　　As a penurious niggard of his wealth,
　　And live like Natures bastards, not her sons,
　　Who would be quite surcharged with her own weight,
　　And strangl'd with her waste fertility;
　　Th'earth cumber'd, and the wing'd air dark't with plumes. 730
　　The herds would over-multitude their Lords,
　　The Sea o'refraught would swell, and th'unsought diamonds
　　Would so emblaze the forhead of the Deep,
　　And so bested with Stars, that they below
　　Would grow inur'd to light, and com at last
　　To gaze upon the Sun with shameless brows.
　　List Lady be not coy, and be not cosen'd
　　With that same vaunted name Virginity,
　　Beauty is natures coyn, must not be hoorded,
　　But must be currant, and the good thereof 740
　　Consists in mutual and partak'n bliss,
　　Unsavoury in th'injoyment of it self
　　If you let slip time, like a neglected rose
　　It withers on the stalk with languish't head.
　　Beauty is natures brag, and must be shown
　　In courts, at feasts, and high solemnities
　　Where most may wonder at the workmanship;
　　It is for homely features to keep home,
　　They had their name thence; course complexions
　　And cheeks of sorry grain will serve to ply 750
　　The sampler, and to teize the huswifes wooll.
　　What need a vermeil-tinctured lip for that
　　Love-darting eyes, or tresses like the Morn?
　　There was another meaning in these gifts,
　　Think what, and be adviz'd, you are but young yet.
　　
　　La: I had not thought to have unlockt my lips
　　In this unhallow'd air, but that this Jugler
　　Would think to charm my judgement, as mine eyes,
　　Obtruding false rules pranckt in reasons garb.
　　I hate when vice can bolt her arguments, 760
　　And vertue has no tongue to check her pride:
　　Impostor do not charge most innocent nature,
　　As if she would her children should be riotous
　　With her abundance, she good cateress
　　Means her provision onely to the good
　　That live according to her sober laws,
　　And holy dictate of spare Temperance:
　　If every just man that now pines with want
　　Had but a moderate and heseeming share
　　Of that which lewdly-pamper'd Luxury 770
　　Now heaps upon som few with vast excess,
　　Natures full blessings would be well dispenc't
　　In unsuperfluous eeven proportion,
　　And she no whit encomber'd with her store,
　　And then the giver would he better thank't,
　　His praise due paid, for swinish gluttony
　　Ne're looks to Heav'n amidst his gorgeous feast,
　　But with besotted base ingratitude
　　Cramms, and blasphemes his feeder. Shall I go on?
　　Or have I said anough? To him that dares 780
　　Arm his profane tongue with contemptuous words
　　Against the Sun-clad power of Chastity,
　　Fain would I somthing say, yet to what end?
　　Thou hast nor Eare, nor Soul to apprehend
　　The sublime notion, and high mystery
　　That must be utter'd to unfold the sage
　　And serious doctrine of Virginity,
　　And thou art worthy that thou shouldst not know
　　More happiness then this thy present lot.
　　Enjoy your deer Wit, and gay Rhetorick 790
　　That hath so well been taught her dazling fence,
　　Thou art not fit to hear thy self convinc't;
　　Yet should I try, the uncontrouled worth
　　Of this pure cause would kindle my rap't spirits
　　To such a flame of sacred vehemence
　　That dumb things would be mov'd to sympathize,
　　And the brute Earth would lend her nerves, and shake,
　　Till all thy magick structures rear'd so high,
　　Were shatter'd into heaps o're thy false head.
　　
　　Co: She fables not, I feel that I do fear 800
　　Her words set off by som superior power;
　　And though not mortal, yet a cold shuddring dew
　　Dips me all o're, as when the wrath of Jove
　　Speaks thunder, and the chains of Erebus
　　To som of Saturns crew. I must dissemble,
　　And try her yet more strongly. Com, no more,
　　This is meer moral babble, and direct
　　Against the canon laws of our foundation;
　　I must not suffer this, yet 'tis but the lees
　　And setlings of a melancholy blood; 810
　　But this will cure all streight, one sip of this
　　Will bathe the drooping spirits in delight
　　Beyond the bliss of dreams. Be wise, and taste.--
　　
　　The brothers rush in with Swords drawn, wrest his Glass out of
　　his hand, and break it against the ground; his rout make signe of
　　resistance, but are all driven in; The attendant Spirit comes in.
　　
　　Spir: What, have you let the false enchanter scape?
　　O ye mistook, ye should have snatcht his wand
　　And bound him fast; without his rod revers't,
　　And backward mutters of dissevering power,
　　We cannot free the Lady that sits here
　　In stony fetters fixt, and motionless;
　　Yet stay, be not disturb'd, now I bethink me 820
　　Som other means I have which may he us'd
　　Which once of Meliboeus old I learnt
　　The soothest Shepherd that ere pip't on plains.
　　There is a gentle Nymph not farr from hence,
　　That with moist curb sways the smooth Severn stream,
　　Sabrina is her name, a Virgin pure,
　　Whilom she was the daughter of Locrine,
　　That had the Scepter from his father Brute.
　　The guiltless damsel flying the mad pursuit
　　Of her enraged stepdam Guendolen, 830
　　Commended her fair innocence to the flood
　　That stay'd her flight with his cross-flowing course,
　　The water Nymphs that in the bottom plaid,
　　Held up their pearled wrists and took her in,
　　Bearing her straight to aged Nereus Hall,
　　Who piteous of her woes, rear'd her lank head,
　　And gave her to his daughters to imbathe
　　In nectar'd lavers strew'd with Asphodil,
　　And through the porch and inlet of each sense
　　Dropt in Ambrosial Oils till she reviv'd, 840
　　And underwent a quick immortal change
　　Made Goddess of the River; still she retains
　　Her maid'n gentlenes, and oft at Eeve
　　Visits the herds along the twilight meadows,
　　Helping all urchin blasts, and ill luck signes
　　That the shrewd medling Elfe delights to make,
　　Which she with pretious viold liquors heals.
　　For which the Shepherds at their festivals
　　Carrol her goodnes lowd in rustick layes,
　　And throw sweet garland wreaths into her stream 850
　　Of pancies, pinks, and gaudy Daffadils.
　　And, as the old Swain said, she can unlock
　　The clasping charms, and thaw the numming spell,
　　If she be right invok't in warbled Song,
　　For maid'nhood she loves, and will be swift
　　To aid a Virgin, such as was her self
　　In hard besetting need, this will I try
　　And adde the power of som adjuring verse.
　　
　　SONG.
　　
　　Sabrina fair
　　Listen when thou art sitting 860
　　Under the glassie, cool, translucent wave,
　　In twisted braids of Lillies knitting
　　The loose train of thy amber-dropping hair,
　　Listen for dear honour's sake,
　　Goddess of the silver lake,
　　Listen and save.
　　
　　Listen and appear to us
　　In name of great Oceanus,
　　By the earth-shaking Neptune's mace,
　　And Tethys grave majestick pace, 870
　　By hoary Nereus wrincled look,
　　And the Carpathian wisards hook,
　　By scaly Tritons winding shell,
　　And old sooth-saying Glaucus spell,
　　By Leucothea's lovely hands,
　　And her son that rules the strands,
　　By Thetis tinsel-slipper'd feet,
　　And the Songs of Sirens sweet,
　　By dead Parthenope's dear tomb,
　　And fair Ligea's golden comb, 880
　　Wherwith she sits on diamond rocks
　　Sleeking her soft alluring locks,
　　By all the Nymphs that nightly dance
　　Upon thy streams with wily glance,
　　Rise, rise, and heave thy rosie head
　　>From thy coral-pav'n bed,
　　And bridle in thy headlong wave,
　　Till thou our summons answered have.
　　Listen and save.
　　
　　Sabrina rises, attended by water-Nymphes, and sings.
　　
　　Sab: By the rushy-fringed bank, 890
　　Where grows the Willow and the Osier dank,
　　My sliding Chariot stayes,
　　Thick set with Agat, and the azurn sheen
　　Of Turkis blew, and Emrauld green
　　That in the channell strayes,
　　Whilst from off the waters fleet
　　Thus I set my printless feet
　　O're the Cowslips Velvet head,
　　That bends not as I tread,
　　Gentle swain at thy request 900
　　I am here.
　　
　　Spir: Goddess dear
　　We implore thy powerful hand
　　To undo the charmed band
　　Of true Virgin here distrest,
　　Through the force, and through the wile
　　Of unblest inchanter vile.
　　
　　Sab: Shepherd 'tis my office best
　　To help insnared chastity;
　　Brightest Lady look on me, 910
　　Thus I sprinkle on thy brest
　　Drops that from my fountain pure,
　　I have kept of pretious cure,
　　Thrice upon thy fingers tip,
　　Thrice upon thy rubied lip,
　　Next this marble venom'd seat
　　Smear'd with gumms of glutenous heat
　　I touch with chaste palms moist and cold,
　　Now the spell hath lost his hold;
　　And I must haste ere morning hour 920
　　To wait in Amphitrite's bowr.
　　
　　Sabrina descends, and the Lady rises out of her seat.
　　
　　Spir: Virgin, daughter of Locrine
　　Sprung of old Anchises line,
　　May thy brimmed waves for this
　　Their full tribute never miss
　　>From a thousand petty rills,
　　That tumble down the snowy hills:
　　Summer drouth, or singed air
　　Never scorch thy tresses fair,
　　Nor wet Octobers torrent flood 930
　　Thy molten crystal fill with mudd,
　　May thy billows rowl ashoar
　　The beryl, and the golden ore,
　　May thy lofty head be crown'd
　　With many a tower and terrass round,
　　And here and there thy banks upon
　　With Groves of myrrhe, and cinnamon.
　　
　　Com Lady while Heaven lends us grace,
　　Let us fly this cursed place,
　　Lest the Sorcerer us intice 940
　　With som other new device.
　　Not a waste, or needless sound
　　Till we com to holier ground,
　　I shall be your faithfull guide
　　Through this gloomy covert wide,
　　And not many furlongs thence
　　Is your Fathers residence,
　　Where this night are met in state
　　Many a friend to gratulate
　　His wish't presence, and beside 950
　　All the Swains that there abide,
　　With Jiggs, and rural dance resort,
　　We shall catch them at their sport,
　　And our sudden coming there
　　Will double all their mirth and chere;
　　Com let us haste, the Stars grow high,
　　But night sits monarch yet in the mid sky.
　　
　　The Scene changes, presenting Ludlow Town and the President
　　Castle, then com in Countrey-Dancers, after them the attendant
　　Spirit, with the two Brothers and the Lady.
　　
　　SONG.
　　
　　Spir: Back Shepherds, back, anough your play,
　　Till next Sun-shine holiday,
　　Here be without duck or nod 960
　　Other trippings to be trod
　　Of lighter toes, and such Court guise
　　As Mercury did first devise
　　With the mincing Dryades
　　On the Lawns, and on the Leas.
　　
　　This second Song presents them to their father and mother.
　　
　　Noble Lord, and Lady bright,
　　I have brought ye new delight,
　　Here behold so goodly grown
　　Three fair branches of your own,
　　Heav'n hath timely tri'd their youth. 970
　　Their faith, their patience, and their truth
　　And sent them here through hard assays
　　With a crown of deathless Praise,
　　To triumph in victorious dance
　　O're sensual folly, and Intemperance.
　　
　　The dances ended, the Spirit Epiloguizes.
　　
　　Spir: To the Ocean now I fly,
　　And those happy climes that ly
　　Where day never shuts his eye,
　　Up in the broad fields of the sky:
　　There I suck the liquid ayr 980
　　All amidst the Gardens fair
　　Of Hesperus, and his daughters three
　　That sing about the golden tree:
　　Along the crisped shades and bowres
　　Revels the spruce and jocond Spring,
　　The Graces, and the rosie-boosom'd Howres,
　　Thither all their bounties bring,
　　That there eternal Summer dwels,
　　And West winds, with musky wing
　　About the cedar'n alleys fling 990
　　Nard, and Cassia's balmy smels.
　　Iris there with humid bow,
　　Waters the odorous banks that blow
　　Flowers of more mingled hew
　　Then her purfl'd scarf can shew,
　　And drenches with Elysian dew
　　(List mortals, if your ears be true)
　　Beds of Hyacinth, and roses
　　Where young Adonis oft reposes,
　　Waxing well of his deep wound 1000
　　In slumber soft, and on the ground
　　Sadly sits th' Assyrian Queen;
　　But far above in spangled sheen
　　Celestial Cupid her fam'd son advanc't,
　　Holds his dear Psyche sweet intranc't
　　After her wandring labours long,
　　Till free consent the gods among
　　Make her his eternal Bride,
　　And from her fair unspotted side
　　Two blissful twins are to be born,
　　Youth and Joy; so Jove hath sworn. 1010
　　But now my task is smoothly don,
　　I can fly, or I can run
　　Quickly to the green earths end,
　　Where the bow'd welkin slow doth bend,
　　And from thence can soar as soon
　　To the corners of the Moon.
　　Mortals that would follow me,
　　Love vertue, she alone is free,
　　She can teach ye how to clime 1020
　　Higher then the Spheary chime;
　　Or if Vertue feeble were,
　　Heav'n it self would stoop to her.
　　
　　Notes:
　　43 ye] you 1673
　　167 omitted 1673
　　168, 9 Thus 1637. Manuscript reads --
　　but heere she comes I fairly step aside
　　& hearken, if I may, her buisnesse heere.
　　1673 reads --
　　And hearken, if I may her business hear.
　　But here she comes, I fairly step aside.
　　474 sensualty] sensuality 1673. Manuscript also reads sensualtie,
　　as the metre requires.
　　493 father] So also 1673. Manuscript reads father's
　　547 meditate] meditate upon 1673
　　553 drowsie frighted] Manuscript reads drowsie flighted.
　　556 steam] stream 1673
　　580 furder] further 1673
　　743 In the manuscript, which reads--
　　If you let slip time like an neglected rose
　　a circle has been drawn round the an, but probably not by Milton.
　　780 anough] anow 1673
　　
　　
　　
　　
　　POEMS ADDED IN THE 1673 EDITION.
　　
　　
　　
　　Anno aetatis 17. On the Death of a fair Infant dying of a Cough.
　　
　　
　　I
　　
　　O FAIREST flower no sooner blown but blasted,
　　Soft silken Primrose fading timelesslie,
　　Summers chief honour if thou hadst outlasted
　　Bleak winters force that made thy blossome drie;
　　For he being amorous on that lovely die
　　That did thy cheek envermeil, thought to kiss
　　But kill'd alas, and then bewayl'd his fatal bliss.
　　
　　II
　　
　　For since grim Aquilo his charioter
　　By boistrous rape th' Athenian damsel got,
　　He thought it toucht his Deitie full neer, 10
　　If likewise he some fair one wedded not,
　　Thereby to wipe away th' infamous blot,
　　Of long-uncoupled bed, and childless eld,
　　Which 'mongst the wanton gods a foul reproach was held.
　　
　　III
　　
　　So mounting up in ycie-pearled carr,
　　Through middle empire of the freezing aire
　　He wanderd long, till thee he spy'd from farr,
　　There ended was his quest, there ceast his care
　　Down he descended from his Snow-soft chaire,
　　But all unwares with his cold-kind embrace 20
　　Unhous'd thy Virgin Soul from her fair hiding place.
　　
　　IV
　　
　　Yet art thou not inglorious in thy fate;
　　For so Apollo, with unweeting hand
　　Whilome did slay his dearly-loved mate
　　Young Hyacinth born on Eurotas' strand,
　　Young Hyacinth the pride of Spartan land;
　　But then transform'd him to a purple flower
　　Alack that so to change thee winter had no power.
　　
　　V
　　
　　Yet can I not perswade me thou art dead
　　Or that thy coarse corrupts in earths dark wombe, 30
　　Or that thy beauties lie in wormie bed,
　　Hid from the world in a low delved tombe;
　　Could Heav'n for pittie thee so strictly doom?
　　O no! for something in thy face did shine
　　Above mortalitie that shew'd thou wast divine.
　　
　　VI
　　
　　Resolve me then oh Soul most surely blest
　　(If so it be that thou these plaints dost hear)
　　Tell me bright Spirit where e're thou hoverest
　　Whether above that high first-moving Spheare
　　Or in the Elisian fields (if such there were.) 40
　　Oh say me true if thou wert mortal wight
　　And why from us so quickly thou didst take thy flight.
　　
　　VII
　　
　　Wert thou some Starr which from the ruin'd roofe
　　Of shak't Olympus by mischance didst fall;
　　Which carefull Jove in natures true behoofe
　　Took up, and in fit place did reinstall?
　　Or did of late earths Sonnes besiege the wall
　　Of sheenie Heav'n, and thou some goddess fled
　　Amongst us here below to hide thy nectar'd head
　　
　　VIII
　　
　　Or wert thou that just Maid who once before 50
　　Forsook the hated earth, O tell me sooth
　　And cam'st again to visit us once more?
　　Or wert thou that sweet smiling Youth!
　　Or that c[r]own'd Matron sage white-robed Truth?
　　Or any other of that heav'nly brood
　　Let down in clowdie throne to do the world some good.
　　
　　Note: 53 Or wert thou] Or wert thou Mercy -- conjectured by
　　John Heskin Ch. Ch. Oxon. from Ode on Nativity, st. 15.
　　
　　IX
　　
　　Or wert thou of the golden-winged boast,
　　Who having clad thy self in humane weed,
　　To earth from thy praefixed seat didst poast,
　　And after short abode flie back with speed, 60
　　As if to shew what creatures Heav'n doth breed,
　　Thereby to set the hearts of men on fire
　　To scorn the sordid world, and unto Heav'n aspire.
　　
　　X
　　
　　But oh why didst thou not stay here below
　　To bless us with thy heav'n-lov'd innocence,
　　To slake his wrath whom sin hath made our foe
　　To turn Swift-rushing black perdition hence,
　　Or drive away the slaughtering pestilence,
　　To stand 'twixt us and our deserved smart
　　But thou canst best perform that office where thou art. 70
　　
　　XI
　　
　　Then thou the mother of so sweet a child
　　Her false imagin'd loss cease to lament,
　　And wisely learn to curb thy sorrows wild;
　　Think what a present thou to God hast sent,
　　And render him with patience what he lent;
　　This if thou do he will an off-spring give,
　　That till the worlds last-end shall make thy name to live.
　　
　　
　　
　　Anno Aetatis 19. At a Vacation Exercise in the Colledge, part
　　Latin, part English. The Latin speeches ended, the English thus
　　began.
　　
　　
　　HAIL native Language, that by sinews weak
　　Didst move my first endeavouring tongue to speak,
　　And mad'st imperfect words with childish tripps,
　　Half unpronounc't, slide through my infant-lipps,
　　Driving dum silence from the portal dore,
　　Where he had mutely sate two years before:
　　Here I salute thee and thy pardon ask,
　　That now I use thee in my latter task:
　　Small loss it is that thence can come unto thee,
　　I know my tongue but little Grace can do thee: 10
　　Thou needst not be ambitious to be first,
　　Believe me I have thither packt the worst:
　　And, if it happen as I did forecast,
　　The daintest dishes shall be serv'd up last.
　　I pray thee then deny me not thy aide
　　For this same small neglect that I have made:
　　But haste thee strait to do me once a Pleasure,
　　And from thy wardrope bring thy chiefest treasure;
　　Not those new fangled toys, and triming slight
　　Which takes our late fantasticks with delight, 20
　　But cull those richest Robes, and gay'st attire
　　Which deepest Spirits, and choicest Wits desire:
　　I have some naked thoughts that rove about
　　And loudly knock to have their passage out;
　　And wearie of their place do only stay
　　Till thou hast deck't them in thy best aray;
　　That so they may without suspect or fears
　　Fly swiftly to this fair Assembly's ears;
　　Yet I had rather if I were to chuse,
　　Thy service in some graver subject use, 30
　　Such as may make thee search thy coffers round
　　Before thou cloath my fancy in fit sound:
　　Such where the deep transported mind may scare
　　Above the wheeling poles, and at Heav'ns dore
　　Look in, and see each blissful Deitie
　　How he before the thunderous throne doth lie,
　　Listening to what unshorn Apollo sings
　　To th'touch of golden wires, while Hebe brings
　　Immortal Nectar to her Kingly Sire:
　　Then passing through the Spherse of watchful fire, 40
　　And mistie Regions of wide air next under,
　　And hills of Snow and lofts of piled Thunder,
　　May tell at length how green-ey'd Neptune raves,
　　In Heav'ns defiance mustering all his waves;
　　Then sing of secret things that came to pass
　　When Beldam Nature in her cradle was;
　　And last of Kings and Queens and Hero's old,
　　Such as the wise Demodocus once told
　　In solemn Songs at King Alcinous feast,
　　While sad Ulisses soul and all the rest 50
　　Are held with his melodious harmonie
　　In willing chains and sweet captivitie.
　　But fie my wandring Muse how thou dost stray !
　　Expectance calls thee now another way,
　　Thou know'st it must he now thy only bent
　　To keep in compass of thy Predicament:
　　Then quick about thy purpos'd business come,
　　That to the next I may resign my Roome
　　
　　Then Ens is represented as Father of the Predicaments his ten
　　Sons, whereof the Eldest stood for Substance with his Canons,
　　which Ens thus speaking, explains.
　　
　　Good luck befriend thee Son; for at thy birth
　　The Faiery Ladies daunc't upon the hearth; 60
　　Thy drowsie Nurse hath sworn she did them spie
　　Come tripping to the Room where thou didst lie;
　　And sweetly singing round about thy Bed
　　Strew all their blessings on thy sleeping Head.
　　She heard them give thee this, that thou should'st still
　　>From eyes of mortals walk invisible,
　　Yet there is something that doth force my fear,
　　For once it was my dismal hap to hear
　　A Sybil old, bow-bent with crooked age,
　　That far events full wisely could presage,
　　And in Times long and dark Prospective Glass
　　Fore-saw what future dayes should bring to pass,
　　Your Son, said she, (nor can you it prevent)
　　Shall subject be to many an Accident.
　　O're all his Brethren he shall Reign as King,
　　Yet every one shall make him underling,
　　And those that cannot live from him asunder
　　Ungratefully shall strive to keep him under,
　　In worth and excellence he shall out-go them,
　　Yet being above them, he shall be below them; 80
　　>From others he shall stand in need of nothing,
　　Yet on his Brothers shall depend for Cloathing.
　　To find a Foe it shall not be his hap,
　　And peace shall lull him in her flowry lap;
　　Yet shall he live in strife, and at his dore
　　Devouring war shall never cease to roare;
　　Yea it shall be his natural property
　　To harbour those that are at enmity.
　　What power, what force, what mighty spell, if not
　　Your learned hands, can loose this Gordian knot? 90
　　
　　The next Quantity and Quality, spake in Prose, then Relation
　　was call'd by his Name.
　　
　　Rivers arise; whether thou be the Son,
　　Of utmost Tweed, or Oose, or gulphie Dun,
　　Or Trent, who like some earth-born Giant spreads
　　His thirty Armes along the indented Meads,
　　Or sullen Mole that runneth underneath,
　　Or Severn swift, guilty of Maidens death,
　　Or Rockie Avon, or of Sedgie Lee,
　　Or Coaly Tine, or antient hallowed Dee,
　　Or Humber loud that keeps the Scythians Name,
　　Or Medway smooth, or Royal Towred Thame. 100
　　
　　The rest was Prose.
　　
　　
　　
　　THE FIFTH ODE OF HORACE. LIB. I. --
　　Quis multa gracilis te puer in Rosa
　　Rendred almost word for word without Rhyme according to the
　　Latin Measure, as near as the Language permit.
　　
　　WHAT slender Youth bedew'd with liquid odours
　　Courts thee on Roses in some pleasant Cave,
　　Pyrrha for whom bind'st thou
　　In wreaths thy golden Hair,
　　Plain in thy neatness; O how oft shall he
　　On Faith and changed Gods complain: and Seas
　　Rough with black winds and storms
　　Unwonted shall admire:
　　Who now enjoyes thee credulous, all Gold,
　　Who alwayes vacant, alwayes amiable 10
　　Hopes thee; of flattering gales
　　Unmindfull. Hapless they
　　To whom thou untry'd seem'st fair. Me in my vow'd
　　Picture the sacred wall declares t' have hung
　　My dank and dropping weeds
　　To the stern God of Sea.
　　[The Latin text follows.]
　　
　　
　　
　　SONNETS.
　　
　　
　　XI
　　
　　A Book was writ of late call'd Tetrachordon;
　　And wov'n close, both matter, form and stile;
　　The Subject new: it walk'd the Town a while,
　　Numbring good intellects; now seldom por'd on.
　　Cries the stall-reader, bless us! what a word on
　　A title page is this! and some in file
　　Stand spelling fals, while one might walk to Mile-
　　End Green. Why is it harder Sirs then Gordon,
　　Colkitto, or Macdonnel, or Galasp?
　　Those rugged names to our like mouths grow sleek 10
　　That would have made Quintilian stare and gasp.
　　Thy age, like ours, O Soul of Sir John Cheek,
　　Hated not Learning wors then Toad or Asp;
　　When thou taught'st Cambridge, and King Edward Greek.
　　
　　Note: Camb. Autograph supplies title, On the Detraction which
　　followed my writing certain Treatises.
　　
　　
　　XII. On the same.
　　
　　I did but prompt the age to quit their cloggs
　　By the known rules of antient libertie,
　　When strait a barbarous noise environs me
　　Of Owles and Cuckoes, Asses, Apes and Doggs.
　　As when those Hinds that were transform'd to Froggs
　　Raild at Latona's twin-born progenie
　　Which after held the Sun and Moon in fee.
　　But this is got by casting Pearl to Hoggs;
　　That bawle for freedom in their senceless mood,
　　And still revolt when truth would set them free. 10
　　Licence they mean when they cry libertie;
　　For who loves that, must first be wise and good;
　　But from that mark how far they roave we see
　　For all this wast of wealth, and loss of blood.
　　
　　
　　XIII
　　
　　To Mr. H. Lawes, on his Aires.
　　
　　Harry whose tuneful and well measur'd Song
　　First taught our English Musick how to span
　　Words with just note and accent, not to scan
　　With Midas Ears, committing short and long;
　　Thy worth and skill exempts thee from the throng,
　　With praise enough for Envy to look wan;
　　To after age thou shalt be writ the man,
　　That with smooth aire couldst humor best our tongue
　　Thou honour'st Verse, and Verse must send her wing
　　To honour thee, the Priest of Phoebus Quire 10
　　That tun'st their happiest lines in Hymn or Story
　　Dante shall give Fame leave to set thee higher
　　Then his Casella, whom he woo'd to sing
　　Met in the milder shades of Purgatory.
　　
　　Note: 9 send] lend Cambridge Autograph MS.
　　
　　
　　XIV
　　
　　When Faith and Love which parted from thee never,
　　Had ripen'd thy just soul to dwell with God,
　　Meekly thou didst resign this earthy load
　　Of Death, call'd Life; which us from Life doth sever
　　Thy Works and Alms and all thy good Endeavour
　　Staid not behind, nor in the grave were trod;
　　But as Faith pointed with her golden rod,
　　Follow'd thee up to joy and bliss for ever.
　　Love led them on, and Faith who knew them best
　　Thy hand-maids, clad them o're with purple beams 10
　　And azure wings, that up they flew so drest,
　　And speak the truth of thee on glorious Theams
　　Before the Judge, who thenceforth bid thee rest
　　And drink thy fill of pure immortal streams.
　　
　　Note: Camb. Autograph supplies title, On the Religious
　　Memory of Catherine Thomson, my Christian Friend, deceased
　　16 Decemb., 1646.
　　
　　
　　XV
　　
　　ON THE LATE MASSACHER IN PIEMONT.
　　
　　Avenge O lord thy slaughter'd Saints, whose bones
　　Lie scatter'd on the Alpine mountains cold,
　　Ev'n them who kept thy truth so pure of old
　　When all our Fathers worship't Stocks and Stones,
　　Forget not: in thy book record their groanes
　　Who were thy Sheep and in their antient Fold
　　Slayn by the bloody Piemontese that roll'd
　　Mother with Infant down the Rocks. Their moans
　　The Vales redoubl'd to the Hills, and they
　　To Heav'n. Their martyr'd blood and ashes sow 10
　　O're all th'Italian fields where still doth sway
　　The triple Tyrant: that from these may grow
　　A hunder'd-fold, who having learnt thy way
　　Early may fly the Babylonian wo.
　　
　　
　　
　　XVI
　　
　　
　　When I consider how my light is spent,
　　E're half my days, in this dark world and wide,
　　And that one Talent which is death to hide,
　　Lodg'd with me useless, though my Soul more bent
　　To serve therewith my Maker, and present
　　My true account, least he returning chide,
　　Doth God exact day-labour, light deny'd,
　　I fondly ask; But patience to prevent
　　That murmur, soon replies, God doth not need
　　Either man's work or his own gifts, who best 10
　　Bear his milde yoak, they serve him best, his State
　　Is Kingly. Thousands at his bidding speed
　　And post o're Land and Ocean without rest:
　　They also serve who only stand and waite.
　　
　　
　　
　　XVII
　　
　　
　　Lawrence of vertuous Father vertuous Son,
　　Now that the Fields are dank, and ways are mire,
　　Where shall we sometimes meet, and by the fire
　　Help wast a sullen day; what may be Won
　　>From the hard Season gaining: time will run
　　On smoother, till Favonius re-inspire
　　The frozen earth; and cloth in fresh attire
　　The Lillie and Rose, that neither sow'd nor spun.
　　What neat repast shall feast us, light and choice,
　　Of Attick tast, with Wine, whence we may rise 10
　　To hear the Lute well toucht, or artfull voice
　　Warble immortal Notes and Tuskan Ayre?
　　He who of those delights can judge, and spare
　　To interpose them oft, is not unwise.
　　
　　
　　
　　XVIII
　　
　　
　　Cyriack, whose Grandsire on the Royal Bench
　　Of Brittish Themis, with no mean applause
　　Pronounc't and in his volumes taught our Lawes,
　　Which others at their Barr so often wrench:
　　To day deep thoughts resolve with me to drench
　　In mirth, that after no repenting drawes;
　　Let Euclid rest and Archimedes pause,
　　And what the Swede intend, and what the French.
　　To measure life, learn thou betimes, and know
　　Toward solid good what leads the nearest way; 10
　　For other things mild Heav'n a time ordains,
　　And disapproves that care, though wise in show,
　　That with superfluous burden loads the day,
　　And when God sends a cheerful hour, refrains.
　　
　　
　　
　　XIX
　　
　　
　　Methought I saw my late espoused Saint
　　Brought to me like Alcestis from the grave,
　　Whom Joves great Son to her glad Husband gave,
　　Rescu'd from death by force though pale and faint.
　　Mine as whom washt from spot of child-bed taint,
　　Purification in the old Law did save,
　　And such, as yet once more I trust to have
　　Full sight of her in Heaven without restraint,
　　Came vested all in white, pure as her mind:
　　Her face was vail'd, yet to my fancied sight, 10
　　Love, sweetness, goodness, in her person shin'd
　　So clear, as in no face with more delight.
　　But O as to embrace me she enclin'd
　　I wak'd, she fled, and day brought back my night.
　　
　　
　　
　　On the new forcers of Conscience under the Long PARLIAMENT.
　　
　　
　　Because you have thrown of your Prelate Lord,
　　And with stiff Vowes renounc'd his Liturgie
　　To seise the widdow'd whore Pluralitie
　　>From them whose sin ye envi'd, not abhor'd,
　　Dare ye for this adjure the Civill Sword
　　To force our Consciences that Christ set free,
　　And ride us with a classic Hierarchy
　　Taught ye by meer A. S. and Rotherford?
　　Men whose Life, Learning, Faith and pure intent
　　Would have been held in high esteem with Paul 10
　　Must now he nam'd and printed Hereticks
　　By shallow Edwards and Scotch what d'ye call:
　　But we do hope to find out all your tricks,
　　Your plots and packing wors then those of Trent,
　　That so the Parliament
　　May with their wholsom and preventive Shears
　　Clip your Phylacteries, though bauk your Ears,
　　And succour our just Fears
　　When they shall read this clearly in your charge
　　New Presbyter is but Old Priest Writ Large. 20
　　
　　
　　The four following sonnets were not published until 1694, and
　　then in a mangled form by Phillips, in his Life of Milton; they
　　are here printed from the Cambridge MS., where that to Fairfax
　　is in Milton's autograph.
　　
　　
　　
　　ON THE LORD GEN. FAIRFAX AT THE SEIGE OF COLCHESTER.
　　
　　
　　Fairfax, whose name in armes through Europe rings
　　Filling each mouth with envy, or with praise,
　　And all her jealous monarchs with amaze,
　　And rumors loud, that daunt remotest kings,
　　Thy firm unshak'n vertue ever brings
　　Victory home, though new rebellions raise
　　Their Hydra heads, & the fals North displaies
　　Her brok'n league, to impe their serpent wings,
　　O yet a nobler task awaites thy hand;
　　Yet what can Warr, but endless warr still breed, 10
　　Till Truth, & Right from Violence be freed,
　　And Public Faith cleard from the shamefull brand
　　Of Public Fraud. In vain doth Valour bleed
　　While Avarice, & Rapine share the land.
　　
　　
　　
　　To the Lord Generall Cromwell May 1652.
　　ON THE PROPOSALLS OF CERTAINE MINISTERS AT THE COMMITTEE FOR
　　PROPAGATION OF THE GOSPELL.
　　
　　
　　Cromwell, our cheif of men, who through a cloud
　　Not of warr onely, but detractions rude,
　　Guided by faith & matchless Fortitude
　　To peace & truth thy glorious way hast plough'd,
　　And on the neck of crowned Fortune proud
　　Hast reard Gods Trophies, & his work pursu'd,
　　While Darwen stream with blood of Scotts imbru'd,
　　And Dunbarr field resounds thy praises loud,
　　And Worsters laureat wreath; yet much remaines
　　To conquer still; peace hath her victories 10
　　No less renownd then warr, new foes aries
　　Threatning to bind our soules with secular chaines:
　　Helpe us to save free Conscience from the paw
　　Of hireling wolves whose Gospell is their maw.
　　
　　
　　
　　TO SR HENRY VANE THE YOUNGER.
　　
　　
　　Vane, young in yeares, but in sage counsell old,
　　Then whome a better Senatour nere held
　　The helme of Rome, when gownes not armes repelld
　　The feirce Epeirot & the African bold,
　　Whether to settle peace, or to unfold
　　The drift of hollow states, hard to be spelld,
　　Then to advise how warr may best, upheld,
　　Move by her two maine nerves, Iron & Gold
　　In all her equipage: besides to know
　　Both spirituall powre & civill, what each meanes 10
　　What severs each thou hast learnt, which few have don
　　The bounds of either sword to thee wee ow.
　　Therfore on thy firme hand religion leanes
　　In peace, & reck'ns thee her eldest son.
　　
　　
　　
　　TO MR. CYRIACK SKINNER UPON HIS BLINDNESS.
　　
　　
　　Cyriack, this three years day these eys, though clear
　　To outward view, of blemish or of spot;
　　Bereft of light thir seeing have forgot,
　　Nor to thir idle orbs doth sight appear
　　Of Sun or Moon or Starre throughout the year,
　　Or man or woman. Yet I argue not
　　Against heavns hand or will, nor bate a jot
　　Of heart or hope; but still bear vp and steer
　　Right onward. What supports me, dost thou ask?
　　The conscience, Friend, to have lost them overply'd 10
　　In libertyes defence, my noble task,
　　Of which all Europe talks from side to side.
　　This thought might lead me through the world's vain mask
　　Content though blind, had I no better guide.
　　
　　
　　
　　PSAL. I. Done into Verse, 1653.
　　
　　
　　BLESS'D is the man who hath not walk'd astray
　　In counsel of the wicked, and ith'way
　　Of sinners hath not stood, and in the seat
　　Of scorners hath not sate. But in the great
　　Jehovahs Law is ever his delight,
　　And in his law he studies day and night.
　　He shall be as a tree which planted grows
　　By watry streams, and in his season knows
　　To yield his fruit, and his leaf shall not fall.
　　And what he takes in hand shall prosper all. 10
　　Not so the wicked, but as chaff which fann'd
　　The wind drives, so the wicked shall not stand
　　In judgment, or abide their tryal then
　　Nor sinners in th'assembly of just men.
　　For the Lord knows th'upright way of the just
　　And the way of bad men to ruine must.
　　
　　
　　
　　PSAL. II Done Aug. 8. 1653. Terzetti.
　　
　　
　　WHY do the Gentiles tumult, and the Nations
　　Muse a vain thing, the Kings of th'earth upstand
　　With power, and Princes in their Congregations
　　Lay deep their plots together through each Land,
　　Against the Lord and his Messiah dear.
　　Let us break off; say they, by strength of hand
　　Their bonds, and cast from us, no more to wear,
　　Their twisted cords: he who in Heaven doth dwell
　　Shall laugh, the Lord shall scoff them, then severe
　　Speak to them in his wrath, and in his fell 10
　　And fierce ire trouble them; but I saith hee
　　Anointed have my King (though ye rebell)
　　On Sion my holi' hill. A firm decree
　　I will declare; the Lord to me hath say'd
　　Thou art my Son I have begotten thee
　　This day, ask of me, and the grant is made;
　　As thy possession I on thee bestow
　　Th'Heathen, and as thy conquest to be sway'd
　　Earths utmost bounds: them shalt thou bring full low
　　With Iron Sceptir bruis'd, and them disperse 20
　　Like to a potters vessel shiver'd so.
　　And now be wise at length ye Kings averse
　　Be taught ye Judges of the earth; with fear
　　Jehovah serve and let your joy converse
　　With trembling; Kiss the Son least he appear
　　In anger and ye perish in the way
　　If once his wrath take fire like fuel sere.
　　Happy all those who have in him their stay.
　　
　　
　　
　　PSAL. III. Aug. 9. 1653
　　WHEN HE FLED FROM ABSALOM.
　　
　　
　　LORD how many are my foes
　　How many those
　　That in arms against me rise
　　Many are they
　　That of my life distrustfully thus say,
　　No help for him in God there lies.
　　But thou Lord art my shield my glory,
　　Thee through my story
　　Th' exalter of my head I count
　　Aloud I cry'd 10
　　Unto Jehovah, he full soon reply'd
　　And heard me from his holy mount.
　　I lay and slept, I wak'd again,
　　For my sustain
　　Was the Lord. Of many millions
　　The populous rout
　　I fear not though incamping round about
　　They pitch against me their Pavillions.
　　Rise Lord, save me my God for thou
　　Hast smote ere now 20
　　On the cheek-bone all my foes,
　　Of men abhor'd
　　Hast broke the teeth. This help was from the Lord;
　　Thy blessing on thy people flows.
　　
　　
　　
　　PSAL. IV. Aug. 10.1653.
　　
　　
　　ANSWER me when I call
　　God of my righteousness;
　　In straights and in distress
　　Thou didst me disinthrall
　　And set at large; now spare,
　　Now pity me, and hear my earnest prai'r.
　　
　　Great ones how long will ye
　　My glory have in scorn
　　How long be thus forlorn
　　Still to love vanity, 10
　　To love, to seek, to prize
　　Things false and vain and nothing else but lies?
　　
　　Yet know the Lord hath chose
　　Chose to himself a part
　　The good and meek of heart
　　(For whom to chuse he knows)
　　Jehovah from on high
　　Will hear my voyce what time to him I crie.
　　
　　Be aw'd, and do not sin,
　　Speak to your hearts alone, 20
　　Upon your beds, each one,
　　And be at peace within.
　　Offer the offerings just
　　Of righteousness and in Jehovah trust.
　　
　　Many there be that say
　　Who yet will shew us good?
　　Talking like this worlds brood;
　　But Lord, thus let me pray,
　　On us lift up the light
　　Lift up the favour of thy count'nance bright. 30
　　
　　Into my heart more joy
　　And gladness thou hast put
　　Then when a year of glut
　　Their stores doth over-cloy
　　And from their plenteous grounds
　　With vast increase their corn and wine abounds.
　　
　　In peace at once will I
　　Both lay me down and sleep
　　For thou alone dost keep
　　Me safe where ere I lie 40
　　As in a rocky Cell
　　Thou Lord alone in safety mak'st me dwell.
　　
　　
　　
　　PSAL. V. Aug. 12.1653.
　　
　　
　　JEHOVAH to my words give ear
　　My meditation waigh
　　The voyce of my complaining hear
　　My King and God for unto thee I pray.
　　Jehovah thou my early voyce
　　Shalt in the morning hear
　　Ith'morning I to thee with choyce
　　Will rank my Prayers, and watch till thou appear.
　　For thou art not a God that takes
　　In wickedness delight 10
　　Evil with thee no biding makes
　　Fools or mad men stand not within thy sight.
　　All workers of iniquity
　　Thou wilt destroy that speak a ly
　　The bloodi' and guileful man God doth detest.
　　But I will in thy mercies dear
　　Thy numerous mercies go
　　Into thy house; I in thy fear
　　Will towards thy holy temple worship low. 20
　　Lord lead me in thy righteousness
　　Lead me because of those
　　That do observe if I transgress,
　　Set thy wayes right before, where my step goes.
　　For in his faltring mouth unstable
　　No word is firm or sooth
　　Their inside, troubles miserable;
　　An open grave their throat, their tongue they smooth.
　　God, find them guilty, let them fall
　　By their own counsels quell'd; 30
　　Push them in their rebellions all
　　Still on; for against thee they have rebell'd;
　　Then all who trust in thee shall bring
　　Their joy, while thou from blame
　　Defend'st them, they shall ever sing
　　And shall triumph in thee, who love thy name.
　　For thou Jehovah wilt be found
　　To bless the just man still,
　　As with a shield thou wilt surround
　　Him with thy lasting favour and good will. 40
　　
　　
　　
　　PSAL. VI Aug. 13. 1653.
　　
　　
　　LORD in thine anger do not reprehend me
　　Nor in thy hot displeasure me correct;
　　Pity me Lord for I am much deject
　　Am very weak and faint; heal and amend me,
　　For all my bones, that even with anguish ake,
　　Are troubled, yea my soul is troubled sore
　　And thou O Lord how long? turn Lord, restore
　　My soul, O save me for thy goodness sake
　　For in death no remembrance is of thee;
　　Who in the grave can celebrate thy praise? 10
　　Wearied I am with sighing out my dayes.
　　Nightly my Couch I make a kind of Sea;
　　My Bed I water with my tears; mine Eie
　　Through grief consumes, is waxen old and dark
　　Ith' mid'st of all mine enemies that mark.
　　Depart all ye that work iniquitie.
　　Depart from me, for the voice of my weeping
　　The Lord hath heard, the Lord hath heard my prai'r
　　My supplication with acceptance fair
　　The Lord will own, and have me in his keeping. 20
　　Mine enemies shall all be blank and dash't
　　With much confusion; then grow red with shame,
　　They shall return in hast the way they came
　　And in a moment shall be quite abash't.
　　
　　
　　
　　PSAL. VII. Aug. 14. 1653.
　　UPON THE WORDS OF CHUSH THE BENJAMITE AGAINST HIM.
　　
　　
　　Lord my God to thee I flie
　　Save me and secure me under
　　Thy protection while I crie
　　Least as a Lion (and no wonder)
　　He hast to tear my Soul asunder
　　Tearing and no rescue nigh.
　　
　　Lord my God if I have thought
　　Or done this, if wickedness
　　Be in my hands, if I have wrought
　　Ill to him that meant me peace, 10
　　Or to him have render'd less,
　　And fre'd my foe for naught;
　　
　　Let th'enemy pursue my soul
　　And overtake it, let him tread
　　My life down to the earth and roul
　　In the dust my glory dead,
　　In the dust and there out spread
　　Lodge it with dishonour foul.
　　
　　Rise Jehovah in thine ire
　　Rouze thy self amidst the rage 20
　　Of my foes that urge like fire;
　　And wake for me, their furi' asswage;
　　Judgment here thou didst ingage
　　And command which I desire.
　　
　　So th' assemblies of each Nation
　　Will surround thee, seeking right,
　　Thence to thy glorious habitation
　　Return on high and in their sight.
　　Jehovah judgeth most upright
　　All people from the worlds foundation. 30
　　
　　Judge me Lord, be judge in this
　　According to my righteousness
　　And the innocence which is
　　Upon me: cause at length to cease
　　Of evil men the wickedness
　　And their power that do amiss.
　　
　　But the just establish fast,
　　Since thou art the just God that tries
　　Hearts and reins. On God is cast
　　My defence, and in him lies 40
　　In him who both just and wise
　　Saves th' upright of Heart at last.
　　
　　God is a just Judge and severe,
　　And God is every day offended;
　　If th' unjust will not forbear,
　　His Sword he whets, his Bow hath bended
　　Already, and for him intended
　　The tools of death, that waits him near.
　　
　　(His arrows purposely made he
　　For them that persecute.) Behold 50
　　He travels big with vanitie,
　　Trouble he hath conceav'd of old
　　As in a womb, and from that mould
　　Hath at length brought forth a Lie.
　　
　　He dig'd a pit, and delv'd it deep,
　　And fell into the pit he made,
　　His mischief that due course doth keep,
　　Turns on his head, and his ill trade
　　Of violence will undelay'd
　　Fall on his crown with ruine steep. 60
　　
　　Then will I Jehovah's praise
　　According to his justice raise
　　And sing the Name and Deitie
　　Of Jehovah the most high.
　　
　　
　　
　　PSAL. VIII. Aug. 14. 1653.
　　
　　
　　O JEHOVAH our Lord how wondrous great
　　And glorious is thy name through all the earth?
　　So as above the Heavens thy praise to set
　　Out of the tender mouths of latest bearth,
　　
　　Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings thou
　　Hast founded strength because of all thy foes
　　To stint th'enemy, and slack th'avengers brow
　　That bends his rage thy providence to oppose.
　　
　　When I behold thy Heavens, thy Fingers art,
　　The Moon and Starrs which thou so bright hast set, 10
　　In the pure firmament, then saith my heart,
　　O What is man that thou remembrest yet,
　　
　　And think'st upon him; or of man begot
　　That him thou visit'st and of him art found;
　　Scarce to be less then Gods, thou mad'st his lot,
　　With honour and with state thou hast him crown'd.
　　
　　O're the works of thy hand thou mad'st him Lord,
　　Thou hast put all under his lordly feet,
　　All Flocks, and Herds, by thy commanding word,
　　All beasts that in the field or forrest meet. 20
　　
　　Fowl of the Heavens, and Fish that through the wet
　　Sea-paths in shoals do slide. And know no dearth.
　　O Jehovah our Lord how wondrous great
　　And glorious is thy name through all the earth.
　　
　　
　　
　　
　　April, 1648. J. M.
　　Nine of the Psalms done into Metre, wherein all but what is
　　in a different Character, are the very words of the Text,
　　translated from the Original.
　　
　　
　　
　　PSAL. LXXX.
　　
　　
　　1 THOU Shepherd that dost Israel keep
　　 Give ear in time of need,
　　 Who leadest like a flock of sheep
　　 Thy loved Josephs seed,
　　 That sitt'st between the Cherubs bright
　　 Between their wings out-spread
　　 Shine forth, and from thy cloud give light,
　　 And on our foes thy dread.
　　2 In Ephraims view and Benjamins,
　　 And in Manasse's sight 10
　　 Awake* thy strength, come, and be seen *Gnorera.
　　 To save us by thy might.
　　3 Turn us again, thy grace divine
　　 To us O God vouchsafe;
　　 Cause thou thy face on us to shine
　　 And then we shall be safe.
　　4 Lord God of Hosts, how long wilt thou,
　　 How long wilt thou declare
　　 Thy *smoaking wrath, and angry brow *Gnashanta.
　　 Against thy peoples praire. 20
　　5 Thou feed'st them with the bread of tears,
　　 Their bread with tears they eat,
　　 And mak'st them* largely drink the tears *Shalish.
　　 Wherewith their cheeks are wet.
　　6 A strife thou mak'st us and a prey
　　 To every neighbour foe,
　　 Among themselves they *laugh, they *play, *Jilgnagu.
　　 And *flouts at us they throw.
　　7 Return us, and thy grace divine,
　　 O God of Hosts vouchsafe 30
　　 Cause thou thy face on us to shine,
　　 And then we shall be safe.
　　8 A Vine from Aegypt thou hast brought,
　　 Thy free love made it thine,
　　 And drov'st out Nations proud and haut
　　 To plant this lovely Vine.
　　9 Thou did'st prepare for it a place
　　 And root it deep and fast
　　 That it began to grow apace,
　　 And fill'd the land at last. 40
　　10 With her green shade that cover'd all,
　　 The Hills were over-spread
　　 Her Bows as high as Cedars tall
　　 Advanc'd their lofty head.
　　11 Her branches on the western side
　　 Down to the Sea she sent,
　　 And upward to that river wide
　　 Her other branches went.
　　12 Why hast thou laid her Hedges low
　　 And brok'n down her Fence, 50
　　 That all may pluck her, as they go,
　　 With rudest violence?
　　13 The tusked Boar out of the wood
　　 Up turns it by the roots,
　　 Wild Beasts there brouze, and make their food
　　 Her Grapes and tender Shoots.
　　14 Return now, God of Hosts, look down
　　 From Heav'n, thy Seat divine,
　　 Behold us, but without a frown,
　　 And visit this thy Vine. 60
　　15 Visit this Vine, which thy right hand
　　 Hath set, and planted long,
　　 And the young branch, that for thy self
　　 Thou hast made firm and strong.
　　16 But now it is consum'd with fire,
　　 And cut with Axes down,
　　 They perish at thy dreadfull ire,
　　 At thy rebuke and frown.
　　17 Upon the man of thy right hand
　　 Let thy good hand be laid, 70
　　 Upon the Son of Man, whom thou
　　 Strong for thyself hast made.
　　18 So shall we not go back from thee
　　 To wayes of sin and shame,
　　 Quick'n us thou, then gladly wee
　　 Shall call upon thy Name.
　　 Return us, and thy grace divine
　　 Lord God of Hosts voutsafe,
　　 Cause thou thy face on us to shine,
　　 And then we shall be safe. 80
　　
　　
　　
　　PSAL. LXXXI.
　　
　　
　　1 To God our strength sing loud, and clear,
　　 Sing loud to God our King,
　　 To Jacobs God, that all may hear
　　 Loud acclamations ring.
　　2 Prepare a Hymn, prepare a Song
　　 The Timbrel hither bring
　　 The cheerfull Psaltry bring along
　　 And Harp with pleasant string.
　　3 Blow, as is wont, in the new Moon
　　 With Trumpets lofty sound, 10
　　 Th'appointed time, the day wheron
　　 Our solemn Feast comes round.
　　4 This was a Statute giv'n of old
　　 For Israel to observe
　　 A Law of Jacobs God, to hold
　　 From whence they might not swerve.
　　5 This he a Testimony ordain'd
　　 In Joseph, not to change,
　　 When as he pass'd through Aegypt land;
　　 The Tongue I heard, was strange. 20
　　6 From burden, and from slavish toyle
　　 I set his shoulder free;
　　 His hands from pots, and mirie soyle
　　 Deliver'd were by me.
　　7 When trouble did thee sore assaile,
　　 On me then didst thou call,
　　 And I to free thee did not faile,
　　 And led thee out of thrall.
　　 I answer'd thee in *thunder deep *Be Sether ragnam.
　　 With clouds encompass'd round; 30
　　 I tri'd thee at the water steep
　　 Of Meriba renown'd.
　　8 Hear O my people, heark'n well,
　　 I testifie to thee
　　 Thou antient flock of Israel,
　　 If thou wilt list to mee,
　　9 Through out the land of thy abode
　　 No alien God shall be
　　 Nor shalt thou to a forein God
　　 In honour bend thy knee. 40
　　10 I am the Lord thy God which brought
　　 Thee out of Aegypt land
　　 Ask large enough, and I, besought,
　　 Will grant thy full demand.
　　11 And yet my people would not hear,
　　 Nor hearken to my voice;
　　 And Israel whom I lov'd so dear
　　 Mislik'd me for his choice.
　　12 Then did I leave them to their will
　　 And to their wandring mind; 50
　　 Their own conceits they follow'd still
　　 Their own devises blind
　　13 O that my people would be wise
　　 To serve me all their daies,
　　 And O that Israel would advise
　　 To walk my righteous waies.
　　14 Then would I soon bring down their foes
　　 That now so proudly rise,
　　 And turn my hand against all those
　　 That are their enemies. 60
　　15 Who hate the Lord should then be fain
　　 To bow to him and bend,
　　 But they, His should remain,
　　 Their time should have no end.
　　16 And he would free them from the shock
　　 With flower of finest wheat,
　　 And satisfie them from the rock
　　 With Honey for their Meat.
　　
　　
　　
　　PSAL. LXXXII.
　　
　　
　　1 GOD in the *great *assembly stands *Bagnadath-el
　　 Of Kings and lordly States,
　　 Among the gods* on both his hands. *Bekerev.
　　 He judges and debates.
　　2 How long will ye *pervert the right *Tishphetu
　　 With *judgment false and wrong gnavel.
　　 Favouring the wicked by your might,
　　 Who thence grow bold and strong?
　　3 *Regard the *weak and fatherless *Shiphtu-dal.
　　 *Dispatch the *poor mans cause, 10
　　 And **raise the man in deep distress
　　 By **just and equal Lawes. **Hatzdiku.
　　4 Defend the poor and desolate,
　　 And rescue from the hands
　　 Of wicked men the low estate
　　 Of him that help demands.
　　5 They know not nor will understand,
　　 In darkness they walk on,
　　 The Earths foundations all are *mov'd *Jimmotu.
　　 And *out of order gon. 20
　　6 I said that ye were Gods, yea all
　　 The Sons of God most high
　　7 But ye shall die like men, and fall
　　 As other Princes die.
　　8 Rise God, *judge thou the earth in might,
　　 This wicked earth *redress, *Shiphta.
　　 For thou art he who shalt by right
　　 The Nations all possess.
　　
　　
　　
　　
　　PSAL. LXXXIII.
　　
　　1 BE not thou silent now at length
　　 O God hold not thy peace,
　　 Sit not thou still O God of strength
　　 We cry and do not cease.
　　2 For lo thy furious foes now *swell
　　 And *storm outrageously, *Jehemajun.
　　 And they that hate thee proud and fill
　　 Exalt their heads full hie.
　　3 Against thy people they *contrive *Jagnarimu.
　　 *Their Plots and Counsels deep, *Sod. 10
　　 *Them to ensnare they chiefly strive *Jithjagnatsu gnal.
　　 *Whom thou dost hide and keep. *Tsephuneca.
　　4 Come let us cut them off say they,
　　 Till they no Nation be
　　 That Israels name for ever may
　　 Be lost in memory.
　　5 For they consult *with all their might, *Lev jachdau.
　　 And all as one in mind
　　 Themselves against thee they unite
　　 And in firm union bind. 20
　　6 The tents of Edom, and the brood
　　 Of scornful Ishmael,
　　 Moab, with them of Hagars blood
　　 That in the Desart dwell,
　　7 Gebal and Ammon there conspire,
　　 And hateful Amalec,
　　 The Philistims, and they of Tyre
　　 Whose bounds the sea doth check.
　　8 With them great Asshur also bands
　　 And doth confirm the knot, 30
　　 All these have lent their armed hands
　　 To aid the Sons of Lot.
　　9 Do to them as to Midian bold
　　 That wasted all the Coast.
　　 To Sisera, and as is told
　　 Thou didst to Jabins hoast,
　　 When at the brook of Kishon old
　　 They were repulst and slain,
　　10 At Endor quite cut off, and rowl'd
　　 As dung upon the plain. 40
　　11 As Zeb and Oreb evil sped
　　 So let their Princes speed
　　 As Zeba, and Zalmunna bled
　　 So let their Princes bleed.
　　12 For they amidst their pride have said
　　 By right now shall we seize
　　 Gods houses, and will now invade
　　 *Their stately Palaces. *Neoth Elohim bears both.
　　13 My God, oh make them as a wheel
　　 No quiet let them find, 50
　　 Giddy and restless let them reel
　　 Like stubble from the wind.
　　14 As when an aged wood takes fire
　　 Which on a sudden straies,
　　 The greedy flame runs hier and hier
　　 Till all the mountains blaze,
　　15 So with thy whirlwind them pursue,
　　 And with thy tempest chase;
　　16 *And till they *yield thee honour due, *They seek thy
　　 Lord fill with shame their face. Name. Heb.
　　17 Asham'd and troubl'd let them be, 60
　　 Troubl'd and sham'd for ever,
　　 Ever confounded, and so die
　　 With shame, and scape it never.
　　18 Then shall they know that thou whose name
　　 Jehova is alone,
　　 Art the most high, and thou the same
　　 O're all the earth art one.
　　
　　
　　
　　PSAL. LXXXIV.
　　
　　
　　1 How lovely are thy dwellings fair!
　　 O Lord of Hoasts, how dear
　　 The pleasant Tabernacles are!
　　 Where thou do'st dwell so near.
　　2 My Soul doth long and almost die
　　 Thy Courts O Lord to see,
　　 My heart and flesh aloud do crie,
　　 O living God, for thee.
　　3 There ev'n the Sparrow freed from wrong
　　 Hath found a house of rest, 10
　　 The Swallow there, to lay her young
　　 Hath built her brooding nest,
　　 Ev'n by thy Altars Lord of Hoasts
　　 They find their safe abode,
　　 And home they fly from round the Coasts
　　 Toward thee, My King, my God
　　4 Happy, who in thy house reside
　　 Where thee they ever praise,
　　5 Happy, whose strength in thee doth bide,
　　 And in their hearts thy waies. 20
　　6 They pass through Baca's thirstie Vale,
　　 That dry and barren ground
　　 As through a fruitfull watry Dale
　　 Where Springs and Showrs abound.
　　7 They journey on from strength to strength
　　 With joy and gladsom cheer
　　 Till all before our God at length
　　 In Sion do appear.
　　8 Lord God of Hoasts hear now my praier
　　 O Jacobs God give ear, 30
　　9 Thou God our shield look on the face
　　 Of thy anointed dear.
　　10 For one day in thy Courts to be
　　 Is better, and mere blest
　　 Then in the joyes of Vanity,
　　 A thousand daies at best.
　　 I in the temple of my God
　　 Had rather keep a dore,
　　 Then dwell in Tents, and rich abode
　　 With Sin for evermore 40
　　11 For God the Lord both Sun and Shield
　　 Gives grace and glory bright,
　　 No good from him shall be with-held
　　 Whose waies are just and right.
　　12 Lord God of Hoasts that raign 'st on high,
　　 That man is truly blest
　　 Who only on thee doth relie.
　　 And in thee only rest.
　　
　　
　　
　　PSAL LXXXV.
　　
　　
　　1 THY Land to favour graciously
　　 Thou hast not Lord been slack,
　　 Thou hast from hard Captivity
　　 Returned Jacob back.
　　2 Th' iniquity thou didst forgive
　　 That wrought thy people woe,
　　 And all their Sin, that did thee grieve
　　 Hast hid where none shall know.
　　3 Thine anger all thou hadst remov'd,
　　 And calmly didst return 10
　　 From thy *fierce wrath which we had prov'd *Heb. The burning
　　 Far worse then fire to burn. heat of thy
　　4 God of our saving health and peace, wrath.
　　 Turn us, and us restore,
　　 Thine indignation cause to cease
　　 Toward us, and chide no more.
　　5 Wilt thou be angry without end,
　　 For ever angry thus
　　 Wilt thou thy frowning ire extend
　　 From age to age on us? 20
　　6 Wilt thou not * turn, and hear our voice * Heb. Turn to
　　 And us again * revive , quicken us.
　　 That so thy people may rejoyce
　　 By thee preserv'd alive.
　　7 Cause us to see thy goodness Lord,
　　 To us thy mercy shew
　　 Thy saving health to us afford
　　 And lift in us renew.
　　8 And now what God the Lord will speak
　　 I will go strait and hear, 30
　　 For to his people he speaks peace
　　 And to his Saints full dear,
　　 To his dear Saints he will speak peace,
　　 But let them never more
　　 Return to folly, but surcease
　　 To trespass as before.
　　9 Surely to such as do him fear
　　 Salvation is at hand
　　 And glory shall ere long appear
　　 To dwell within our Land. 40
　　10 Mercy and Truth that long were miss'd
　　 Now joyfully are met
　　 Sweet Peace and Righteousness have kiss'd
　　 And hand in hand are set.
　　11 Truth from the earth like to a flowr
　　 Shall bud and blossom then,
　　 And Justice from her heavenly bowr
　　 Look down on mortal men.
　　12 The Lord will also then bestow
　　 Whatever thing is good 50
　　 Our Land shall forth in plenty throw
　　 Her fruits to be our food.
　　13 Before him Righteousness shall go
　　 His Royal Harbinger,
　　 Then * will he come, and not be slow *Heb. He will set his
　　 His footsteps cannot err. steps to the way.
　　
　　
　　
　　PSAL. LXXXVI.
　　
　　
　　1 THY gracious ear, O Lord, encline,
　　 O hear me I thee pray,
　　 For I am poor, and almost pine
　　 With need, and sad decay.
　　2 Preserve my soul, for *I have trod Heb. I am good, loving,
　　 Thy waies, and love the just, a doer of good and
　　 Save thou thy servant O my God holy things
　　 Who still in thee doth trust.
　　3 Pity me Lord for daily thee
　　 I call; 4 O make rejoyce 10
　　 Thy Servants Soul; for Lord to thee
　　 I lift my soul and voice,
　　5 For thou art good, thou Lord art prone
　　 To pardon, thou to all
　　 Art full of mercy, thou alone
　　 To them that on thee call.
　　6 Unto my supplication Lord
　　 Give ear, and to the crie
　　 Of my incessant praiers afford
　　 Thy hearing graciously. 20
　　7 I in the day of my distress
　　 Will call on thee for aid;
　　 For thou wilt grant me free access
　　 And answer, what I pray'd.
　　8 Like thee among the gods is none
　　 O Lord, nor any works
　　 Of all that other Gods have done
　　 Like to thy glorious works.
　　9 The Nations all whom thou hast made
　　 Shall come, and all shall frame 30
　　 To bow them low before thee Lord,
　　 And glorifie thy name.
　　10 For great thou art, and wonders great
　　 By thy strong hand are done,
　　 Thou in thy everlasting Seat
　　 Remainest God alone.
　　11 Teach me O Lord thy way most right,
　　 I in thy truth will hide,
　　 To fear thy name my heart unite
　　 So shall it never slide. 40
　　12 Thee will I praise O Lord my God
　　 Thee honour, and adore
　　 With my whole heart, and blaze abroad
　　 Thy name for ever more.
　　13 For great thy mercy is toward me,
　　 And thou hast free'd my Soul
　　 Eev'n from the lowest Hell set free
　　 From deepest darkness foul.
　　14 O God the proud against me rise
　　 And violent men are met 50
　　 To seek my life, and in their eyes
　　 No fear of thee have set.
　　15 But thou Lord art the God most mild
　　 Readiest thy grace to shew,
　　 Slow to be angry, and art stil'd
　　 Most mercifull, most true.
　　16 O turn to me thy face at length,
　　 And me have mercy on,
　　 Unto thy servant give thy strength,
　　 And save thy hand-maids Son. 60
　　17 Some sign of good to me afford,
　　 And let my foes then see
　　 And be asham'd, because thou Lord
　　 Do'st help and comfort me.
　　
　　
　　
　　PSAL. LXXXVII
　　
　　
　　1 AMONG the holy Mountains high
　　 Is his foundation fast,
　　 There Seated in his Sanctuary,
　　 His Temple there is plac't.
　　2 Sions fair Gates the Lord loves more
　　 Then all the dwellings faire
　　 Of Jacobs Land, though there be store,
　　 And all within his care.
　　3 City of God, most glorious things
　　 Of thee abroad are spoke; 10
　　4 I mention Egypt, where proud Kings
　　 Did our forefathers yoke,
　　 I mention Babel to my friends,
　　 Philistia full of scorn,
　　 And Tyre with Ethiops utmost ends,
　　 Lo this man there was born:
　　5 But twise that praise shall in our ear
　　 Be said of Sion last
　　 This and this man was born in her,
　　 High God shall fix her fast. 20
　　6 The Lord shall write it in a Scrowle
　　 That ne're shall be out-worn
　　 When he the Nations doth enrowle
　　 That this man there was born.
　　7 Both they who sing, and they who dance
　　 With sacred Songs are there,
　　 In thee fresh brooks, and soft streams glance
　　 And all my fountains clear.
　　
　　
　　
　　PSAL. LXXXVIII
　　
　　
　　1 LORD God that dost me save and keep,
　　 All day to thee I cry;
　　 And all night long, before thee weep
　　 Before thee prostrate lie.
　　2 Into thy presence let my praier
　　 With sighs devout ascend
　　 And to my cries, that ceaseless are,
　　 Thine ear with favour bend.
　　3 For cloy'd with woes and trouble store
　　 Surcharg'd my Soul doth lie, 10
　　 My life at death's uncherful dore
　　 Unto the grave draws nigh.
　　4 Reck'n'd I am with them that pass
　　 Down to the dismal pit
　　 I am a *man, but weak alas * Heb. A man without manly
　　 And for that name unfit. strength.
　　5 From life discharg'd and parted quite
　　 Among the dead to sleep
　　 And like the slain in bloody fight
　　 That in the grave lie deep. 20
　　 Whom thou rememberest no more,
　　 Dost never more regard,
　　 Them from thy hand deliver'd o're
　　 Deaths hideous house hath barr'd.
　　6 Thou in the lowest pit profound'
　　 Hast set me all forlorn,
　　 Where thickest darkness hovers round,
　　 In horrid deeps to mourn.
　　7 Thy wrath from which no shelter saves
　　 Full sore doth press on me; 30
　　 *Thou break'st upon me all thy waves, *The Heb.
　　 *And all thy waves break me bears both.
　　8 Thou dost my friends from me estrange,
　　 And mak'st me odious,
　　 Me to them odious, for they change,
　　 And I here pent up thus.
　　9 Through sorrow, and affliction great
　　 Mine eye grows dim and dead,
　　 Lord all the day I thee entreat,
　　 My hands to thee I spread. 40
　　10 Wilt thou do wonders on the dead,
　　 Shall the deceas'd arise
　　 And praise thee from their loathsom bed
　　 With pale and hollow eyes ?
　　11 Shall they thy loving kindness tell
　　 On whom the grave hath hold,
　　 Or they who in perdition dwell
　　 Thy faithfulness unfold?
　　12 In darkness can thy mighty hand
　　 Or wondrous acts be known, 50
　　 Thy justice in the gloomy land
　　 Of dark oblivion?
　　13 But I to thee O Lord do cry
　　 E're yet my life be spent,
　　 And up to thee my praier doth hie
　　 Each morn, and thee prevent.
　　14 Why wilt thou Lord my soul forsake,
　　 And hide thy face from me,
　　15 That am already bruis'd, and *shake *Heb. Prae Concussione.
　　 With terror sent from thee; 60
　　 Bruz'd, and afflicted and so low
　　 As ready to expire,
　　 While I thy terrors undergo
　　 Astonish'd with thine ire.
　　16 Thy fierce wrath over me doth flow
　　 Thy threatnings cut me through.
　　17 All day they round about me go,
　　 Like waves they me persue.
　　18 Lover and friend thou hast remov'd
　　 And sever'd from me far. 70
　　 They fly me now whom I have lov'd,
　　 And as in darkness are.
　　
　　
　　Finis.
　　
　　
　　
　　
　　COLLECTION OF PASSAGES TRANSLATED IN THE PROSE WRITINGS.
　　
　　
　　
　　[From Of Reformation in England, 1641.]
　　
　　
　　Ah Constantine, of how much ill was cause
　　Not thy Conversion, but those rich demains
　　That the first wealthy Pope receiv'd of thee.
　　DANTE, Inf. xix. 115.
　　
　　Founded in chast and humble Poverty,
　　'Gainst them that rais'd thee dost thou lift thy horn,
　　Impudent whoore, where hast thou plac'd thy hope?
　　In thy Adulterers, or thy ill got wealth?
　　Another Constantine comes not in hast.
　　PETRARCA, Son. 108.
　　
　　And to be short, at last his guid him brings
　　Into a goodly valley, where he sees
　　A mighty mass of things strangely confus'd
　　Things that on earth were lost or were abus'd.
　　 . . . . .
　　Then past he to a flowry Mountain green,
　　Which once smelt sweet, now stinks as odiously;
　　This was that gift (if you the truth will have)
　　That Constantine to good Sylvestro gave.
　　ARIOSTO, Orl. Fur. xxxiv. 80.
　　
　　
　　
　　[From Reason of Church Government, 1641.]
　　
　　
　　When I die, let the Earth be roul'd in flames.
　　
　　
　　
　　[From Apology for Smectymnuus, 1642.]
　　
　　
　　Laughing to teach the truth
　　What hinders? as some teachers give to Boys
　　Junkets and knacks, that they may learne apace.
　　HORACE, Sat. 1. 24.
　　
　　Jesting decides great things
　　Stronglier, and better oft than earnest can.
　　IBID. i. 10. 14.
　　
　　'Tis you that say it, not I: you do the deeds
　　And your ungodly deeds find me the words.
　　SOPHOCLES, Elec. 624.
　　
　　
　　
　　[From Areopagitica, 1644.]
　　
　　
　　This is true Liberty, when free-born Men,
　　Having to advise the Public, may speak free,
　　Which he who can, and will, deserv's high praise;
　　Who neither can nor will, may hold his peace,
　　What can be juster in a state then this?
　　EURIPIDES, Supp. 438
　　
　　
　　
　　[From Tetrachordon, 1645.]
　　
　　
　　Whom do we count a good man, whom but he
　　Who keeps the laws and statutes of the Senate,
　　Who judges in great suits and controversies,
　　Whose witness and opinion wins the cause?
　　But his own house, and the whole neighbourhood
　　See his foul inside through his whited skin.
　　HORACE, Ep. i. 16. 40.
　　
　　
　　
　　[From The Tenure of Kings and Magistrates, 1649.]
　　
　　
　　 There can be slaine
　　No sacrifice to God more acceptable
　　Than an unjust and wicked king.
　　SENECA, Herc. Fur. 922.
　　
　　
　　
　　[From History of Britain, 1670.]
　　
　　
　　Brutus thus addresses Diana in the country of Leogecia.
　　
　　Goddess of Shades, and Huntress, who at will
　　Walk'st on the rowling Sphear, and through the deep,
　　On thy third Reign the Earth look now, and tell
　　What Land, what Seat of rest thou bidst me seek,
　　What certain Seat, where I may worship thee
　　For aye, with Temples vow'd, and Virgin quires.
　　
　　To whom sleeping before the altar, Diana in a Vision that night
　　thus answer'd.
　　
　　Brutus far to the West, in th' Ocean wide
　　Beyond the Realm of Gaul, a Land there lies,
　　Sea-girt it lies, where Giants dwelt of old,
　　Now void, it fits thy People; thether bend
　　Thy course, there shalt thou find a lasting seat,
　　There to thy Sons another Troy shall rise,
　　And Kings be born of thee, whose dredded might
　　Shall aw the World, and conquer Nations bold.
　　
　　
　　
　　
　　Transcriber's Note: Title page of first (1667) edition of
　　Paradise Lost follows:
　　
　　
　　 Paradise lost.
　　 A
　　 POEM
　　 Written in
　　 TEN BOOKS
　　 By John Milton
　　------------------------------------------------------------
　　 Licensed and Entred according
　　 to Order
　　------------------------------------------------------------
　　 LONDON.
　　 Printed, and are to be sold by Peter Parker
　　 under Creed Church neer Aldgate; And by
　　 Robert Boulter at the Turk's head in Bishopsgate-street
　　 And Matthias Walker, under St. Dunstan's Church
　　 in Fleet-street, 1667.
　　
　　
　　
　　Transcriber's Note: Title page of second (1674) edition of
　　Paradise Lost follows:
　　
　　
　　 Paradise Lost.
　　 A
　　 POEM
　　 IN
　　 TWELVE BOOKS.
　　------------------------------------------------------------
　　 The Author
　　 JOHN MILTON.
　　------------------------------------------------------------
　　 The Second Edition
　　 Revised and Augmented by the
　　 Same Author.
　　------------------------------------------------------------
　　 LONDON.
　　 Printed by S. Simmons next door to the
　　 Golden Lion in Aldergate-street, 1674.
　　
　　
　　
　　
　　PARADISE LOST.
　　
　　
　　
　　ON Paradise Lost.
　　
　　
　　WHEN I beheld the Poet blind, yet bold,
　　In slender Book his vast Design unfold,
　　Messiah Crown'd, Gods Reconcil'd Decree,
　　Rebelling Angels, the Forbidden Tree,
　　Heav'n, Hell, Earth, Chaos, All; the Argument
　　Held me a while misdoubting his Intent,
　　That he would ruine (for I saw him strong)
　　The sacred Truths to Fable and old Song
　　(So Sampson groap'd the Temples Posts in spight)
　　The World o'rewhelming to revenge his sight.
　　
　　Yet as I read soon growing less severe,
　　I lik'd his Project, the success did fear;
　　Through that wide Field how he his way should find
　　O're which lame Faith leads Understanding blind;
　　Lest he perplex'd the things he would explain,
　　And what was easie he should render vain.
　　
　　Or if a Work so infinite he spann'd,
　　Jealous I was that some less skilful hand
　　(Such as disquiet always what is well,
　　And by ill imitating would excell)
　　Might hence presume the whole Creations day
　　To change in Scenes. and show it in a Play.
　　
　　Pardon me, Mighty Poet, nor despise
　　My causeless, yet not impious, surmise.
　　But I am now convinc'd, and none will dare
　　Within thy Labours to pretend a share,
　　Thou hast not miss'd one thought that could be fit,
　　And all that was improper dost omit:
　　So that no room is here for Writers left,
　　But to detect their Ignorance or Theft.
　　
　　That Majesty which through thy Work doth Reign
　　Draws the Devout, deterring the Profane,
　　And things divine thou treatst of in such state
　　As them preserves, and thee, inviolate.
　　At once delight and horrour on us seise,
　　Thou singst with so much gravity and ease;
　　And above humane flight dost soar aloft
　　With Plume so strong, so equal, and so soft.
　　The Bird nam'd from that Paradise you sing
　　So never flaggs, but always keeps on Wing.
　　
　　Where couldst thou words of such a compass find?
　　Whence furnish such a vast expence of mind?
　　Just Heav'n thee like Tiresias to requite
　　Rewards with Prophesie thy loss of sight.
　　
　　Well mightst thou scorn thy Readers to allure
　　With tinkling Rhime, of thy own sense secure;
　　While the Town-Bayes writes all the while and spells,
　　And like a Pack-horse tires without his Bells:
　　Their Fancies like our Bushy-points appear,
　　The Poets tag them, we for fashion wear.
　　I too transported by the Mode offend,
　　And while I meant to Praise thee must Commend.
　　Thy Verse created like thy Theme sublime,
　　In Number, Weight, and Measure, needs not Rhime.
　　
　　 A.M.
　　
　　Note: On Paradise Lost] Added in the second edition 1674.
　　
　　
　　
　　The Printer to the Reader.
　　
　　
　　Courteous Reader, there was no Argument at first intended to
　　the Book, but for the satisfaction of many that have desired it, I
　　have procur'd it, and withall a reason of that which stumbled
　　many others, why the Poem Rimes not.
　　S. Simmons.
　　
　　Notes:
　　The Printer to the Reader] Added in 1668 to the copies then
　　remaining of the first edition, amended in 1669, and omitted in
　　1670.
　　I have procur'd it, and . . . . not. 1669] is procured. 1668.
　　
　　
　　
　　THE VERSE.
　　
　　
　　THE measure is English Heroic Verse without Rime as that of
　　Homer in Greek, and of Virgil in Latin; Rime being no
　　necessary Adjunct or true Ornament of Poem or good Verse, in
　　longer Works especially, but the Invention of a barbarous Age,
　　to set off wretched matter and lame Meeter; grac't indeed since
　　by the use of some famous modern Poets, carried away by
　　Custom, but much to thir own vexation, hindrance, and
　　constraint to express many things otherwise, and for the most
　　part worse then else they would have exprest them. Not
　　without cause therefore some both Italian and Spanish Poets of
　　prime note have rejected Rime both in longer and shorter
　　Works, as have also long since our best English Tragedies, as a
　　thing of it self, to all judicious eares, triveal and of no true
　　musical delight: which consists only in apt Numbers, fit quantity
　　of Syllables, and the sense variously drawn out from one Verse
　　into another, not in the jingling sound of like endings, a fault
　　avoyded by the learned Ancients both in Poetry and all good
　　Oratory This neglect then of Rime so little is to be taken for a
　　defect though it may seem so perhaps to vulgar Readers, that it
　　rather is to be esteem'd an example set, the first in English, of
　　ancient liberty recover'd to Heroic Poem from the troublesom
　　and modern bondage of Rimeing.
　　
　　Note: The Verse] Added in 1668 to the copies then remaining
　　of the first edition; together with the Argument. In the second
　　edition (1674) the Argument, with the necessary adjustment to
　　the division made in Books vii and x, was distributed through
　　the several books of the poem, as it is here printed.
　　
　　
　　
　　BOOK I.
　　
　　
　　THE ARGUMENT.
　　
　　THIS first Book proposes first in brief the whole Subject, Mans
　　disobedience, and the loss thereupon of Paradise wherein he
　　was plac't: Then touches the prime cause of his fall, the Serpent,
　　or rather Satan in the Serpent; who revolting from God, and
　　drawing to his side many Legions of Angels, was by the
　　command of God driven out of Heaven with all his Crew into
　　the great Deep. Which action past over, the Poem hasts into the
　　midst of things, presenting Satan with his Angels now fallen
　　into Hell describ'd here, not in the Center (for Heaven and Earth
　　may be suppos'd as yet not made, certainly not yet accurst) but
　　in a place of utter darknesse, fitliest call'd Chaos: Here Satan
　　with his Angels lying on the burning Lake, thunder-struck and
　　astonisht, after a certain space recovers, as from confusion, calls
　　up him who next in Order and Dignity lay by him; they confer of
　　thir miserable fall. Satan awakens all his Legions, who lay till
　　then in the same manner confounded; They rise, thir Numbers,
　　array of Battel, thir chief Leaders nam'd according to the Idols
　　known afterwards in Canaan and the Countries adjoyning. To
　　these Satan directs his Speech, comforts them with hope yet of
　　gaining Heaven, but tells them lastly of a new World and new
　　kind of Creature to be created, according to an ancient
　　Prophesie or report in Heaven; for that Angels were long
　　before this visible Creation, was the opinion of many ancient
　　Fathers. To find out the truth of this Prophesie, and what to
　　determin thereon he refers to a full councell. What his
　　Associates thence attempt. Pandemonium the palace of Satan
　　rises, suddenly built out of the Deep: The infernal Peers there sit
　　in Counsel.
　　
　　Of Mans First Disobedience, and the Fruit
　　Of that Forbidden Tree, whose mortal tast
　　Brought Death into the World, and all our woe,
　　With loss of Eden, till one greater Man
　　Restore us, and regain the blissful Seat,
　　Sing Heav'nly Muse, that on the secret top
　　Of Oreb, or of Sinai, didst inspire
　　That Shepherd, who first taught the chosen Seed,
　　In the Beginning how the Heav'ns and Earth
　　Rose out of Chaos: Or if Sion Hill 10
　　Delight thee more, and Siloa's Brook that flow'd
　　Fast by the Oracle of God; I thence
　　Invoke thy aid to my adventrous Song,
　　That with no middle flight intends to soar
　　Above th' Aonian Mount, while it pursues
　　Things unattempted yet in Prose or Rhime.
　　And chiefly Thou O Spirit, that dost prefer
　　Before all Temples th' upright heart and pure,
　　Instruct me, for Thou know'st; Thou from the first
　　Wast present, and with mighty wings outspread 20
　　Dove-like satst brooding on the vast Abyss
　　And mad'st it pregnant: What in me is dark
　　Illumine, what is low raise and support;
　　That to the highth of this great Argument
　　I may assert th' Eternal Providence,
　　And justifie the wayes of God to men.
　　Say first, for Heav'n hides nothing from thy view
　　Nor the deep Tract of Hell, say first what cause
　　Mov'd our Grand Parents in that happy State,
　　Favour'd of Heav'n so highly, to fall off 30
　　>From their Creator, and transgress his Will
　　For one restraint, Lords of the World besides?
　　Who first seduc'd them to that fowl revolt?
　　Th' infernal Serpent; he it was, whose guile
　　Stird up with Envy and Revenge, deceiv'd
　　The Mother of Mankinde, what time his Pride
　　Had cast him out from Heav'n, with all his Host
　　Of Rebel Angels, by whose aid aspiring
　　To set himself in Glory above his Peers,
　　He trusted to have equal'd the most High, 40
　　If he oppos'd; and with ambitious aim
　　Against the Throne and Monarchy of God
　　Rais'd impious War in Heav'n and Battel proud
　　With vain attempt. Him the Almighty Power
　　Hurld headlong flaming from th' Ethereal Skie
　　With hideous ruine and combustion down
　　To bottomless perdition, there to dwell
　　In Adamantine Chains and penal Fire,
　　Who durst defie th' Omnipotent to Arms.
　　Nine times the Space that measures Day and Night 50
　　To mortal men, he with his horrid crew
　　Lay vanquisht, rowling in the fiery Gulfe
　　Confounded though immortal: But his doom
　　Reserv'd him to more wrath; for now the thought
　　Both of lost happiness and lasting pain
　　Torments him; round he throws his baleful eyes
　　That witness'd huge affliction and dismay
　　Mixt with obdurate pride and stedfast hate:
　　At once as far as Angels kenn he views
　　The dismal Situation waste and wilde, 60
　　A Dungeon horrible, on all sides round
　　As one great Furnace flam'd, yet from those flames
　　No light, but rather darkness visible
　　Serv'd only to discover sights of woe,
　　Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace
　　And rest can never dwell, hope never comes
　　That comes to all; but torture without end
　　Still urges, and a fiery Deluge, fed
　　With ever-burning Sulphur unconsum'd:
　　Such place Eternal Justice had prepar'd 70
　　For those rebellious, here their Prison ordain'd
　　In utter darkness, and their portion set
　　As far remov'd from God and light of Heav'n
　　As from the Center thrice to th' utmost Pole.
　　O how unlike the place from whence they fell!
　　There the companions of his fall, o'rewhelm'd
　　With Floods and Whirlwinds of tempestuous fire,
　　He soon discerns, and weltring by his side
　　One next himself in power, and next in crime,
　　Long after known in Palestine, and nam'd 80
　　Beelzebub. To whom th' Arch-Enemy,
　　And thence in Heav'n call'd Satan, with bold words
　　Breaking the horrid silence thus began.
　　If thou beest he; But O how fall'n! how chang'd
　　>From him, who in the happy Realms of Light
　　Cloth'd with transcendent brightnes didst outshine
　　Myriads though bright: If he whom mutual league,
　　United thoughts and counsels, equal hope,
　　And hazard in the Glorious Enterprize,
　　Joynd with me once, now misery hath joynd 90
　　In equal ruin: into what Pit thou seest
　　>From what highth fal'n, so much the stronger provd
　　He with his Thunder: and till then who knew
　　The force of those dire Arms? yet not for those
　　Nor what the Potent Victor in his rage
　　Can else inflict do I repent or change,
　　Though chang'd in outward lustre; that fixt mind
　　And high disdain, from sence of injur'd merit,
　　That with the mightiest rais'd me to contend,
　　And to the fierce contention brought along 100
　　Innumerable force of Spirits arm'd
　　That durst dislike his reign, and me preferring,
　　His utmost power with adverse power oppos'd
　　In dubious Battel on the Plains of Heav'n,
　　And shook his throne. What though the field be lost?
　　All is not lost; the unconquerable Will,
　　And study of revenge, immortal hate,
　　And courage never to submit or yield:
　　And what is else not to be overcome?
　　That Glory never shall his wrath or might 110
　　Extort from me. To bow and sue for grace
　　With suppliant knee, and deifie his power
　　Who from the terrour of this Arm so late
　　Doubted his Empire, that were low indeed,
　　That were an ignominy and shame beneath
　　This downfall; since by Fate the strength of Gods
　　And this Empyreal substance cannot fail,
　　Since through experience of this great event
　　In Arms not worse, in foresight much advanc't,
　　We may with more successful hope resolve 120
　　To wage by force or guile eternal Warr
　　Irreconcileable, to our grand Foe,
　　Who now triumphs, and in th' excess of joy
　　Sole reigning holds the Tyranny of Heav'n.
　　So spake th' Apostate Angel, though in pain,
　　Vaunting aloud, but rackt with deep despare:
　　And him thus answer'd soon his bold Compeer.
　　O Prince, O Chief of many Throned Powers,
　　That led th' imbattelld Seraphim to Warr
　　Under thy conduct, and in dreadful deeds 130
　　Fearless, endanger'd Heav'ns perpetual King;
　　And put to proof his high Supremacy,
　　Whether upheld by strength, or Chance, or Fate,
　　Too well I see and rue the dire event,
　　That with sad overthrow and foul defeat
　　Hath lost us Heav'n, and all this mighty Host
　　In horrible destruction laid thus low,
　　As far as Gods and Heav'nly Essences
　　Can Perish: for the mind and spirit remains
　　Invincible, and vigour soon returns, 140
　　Though all our Glory extinct, and happy state
　　Here swallow'd up in endless misery.
　　But what if he our Conquerour, (whom I now
　　Of force believe Almighty, since no less
　　Then such could hav orepow'rd such force as ours)
　　Have left us this our spirit and strength intire
　　Strongly to suffer and support our pains,
　　That we may so suffice his vengeful ire,
　　Or do him mightier service as his thralls
　　By right of Warr, what e're his business be 150
　　Here in the heart of Hell to work in Fire,
　　Or do his Errands in the gloomy Deep;
　　What can it then avail though yet we feel
　　Strength undiminisht, or eternal being
　　To undergo eternal punishment?
　　Whereto with speedy words th' Arch-fiend reply'd.
　　Fall'n Cherube, to be weak is miserable
　　Doing or Suffering: but of this be sure,
　　To do ought good never will be our task,
　　But ever to do ill our sole delight, 160
　　As being the contrary to his high will
　　Whom we resist. If then his Providence
　　Out of our evil seek to bring forth good,
　　Our labour must be to pervert that end,
　　And out of good still to find means of evil;
　　Which oft times may succeed, so as perhaps
　　Shall grieve him, if I fail not, and disturb
　　His inmost counsels from their destind aim.
　　But see the angry Victor hath recall'd
　　His Ministers of vengeance and pursuit 170
　　Back to the Gates of Heav'n: The Sulphurous Hail
　　Shot after us in storm, oreblown hath laid
　　The fiery Surge, that from the Precipice
　　Of Heav'n receiv'd us falling, and the Thunder,
　　Wing'd with red Lightning and impetuous rage,
　　Perhaps hath spent his shafts, and ceases now
　　To bellow through the vast and boundless Deep.
　　Let us not slip th' occasion, whether scorn,
　　Or satiate fury yield it from our Foe.
　　Seest thou yon dreary Plain, forlorn and wilde, 180
　　The seat of desolation, voyd of light,
　　Save what the glimmering of these livid flames
　　Casts pale and dreadful? Thither let us tend
　　>From off the tossing of these fiery waves,
　　There rest, if any rest can harbour there,
　　And reassembling our afflicted Powers,
　　Consult how we may henceforth most offend
　　Our Enemy, our own loss how repair,
　　How overcome this dire Calamity,
　　What reinforcement we may gain from Hope, 190
　　If not what resolution from despare.
　　Thus Satan talking to his neerest Mate
　　With Head up-lift above the wave, and Eyes
　　That sparkling blaz'd, his other Parts besides
　　Prone on the Flood, extended long and large
　　Lay floating many a rood, in bulk as huge
　　As whom the Fables name of monstrous size,
　　Titanian, or Earth-born, that warr'd on Jove,
　　Briarios or Typhon, whom the Den
　　By ancient Tarsus held, or that Sea-beast 200
　　Leviathan, which God of all his works
　　Created hugest that swim th' Ocean stream:
　　Him haply slumbring on the Norway foam
　　The Pilot of some small night-founder'd Skiff,
　　Deeming some Island, oft, as Sea-men tell,
　　With fixed Anchor in his skaly rind
　　Moors by his side under the Lee, while Night
　　Invests the Sea, and wished Morn delayes:
　　So stretcht out huge in length the Arch-fiend lay
　　Chain'd on the burning Lake, nor ever thence 210
　　Had ris'n or heav'd his head, but that the will
　　And high permission of all-ruling Heaven
　　Left him at large to his own dark designs,
　　That with reiterated crimes he might
　　Heap on himself damnation, while he sought
　　Evil to others, and enrag'd might see
　　How all his malice serv'd but to bring forth
　　Infinite goodness, grace and mercy shewn
　　On Man by him seduc't, but on himself
　　Treble confusion, wrath and vengeance pour'd. 220
　　Forthwith upright he rears from off the Pool
　　His mighty Stature; on each hand the flames
　　Drivn backward slope their pointing spires, & rowld
　　In billows, leave i'th' midst a horrid Vale.
　　Then with expanded wings he stears his flight
　　Aloft, incumbent on the dusky Air
　　That felt unusual weight, till on dry Land
　　He lights, if it were Land that ever burn'd
　　With solid, as the Lake with liquid fire;
　　And such appear'd in hue, as when the force 230
　　Of subterranean wind transports a Hill
　　Torn from Pelorus, or the shatter'd side
　　Of thundring Aetna, whose combustible
　　And fewel'd entrals thence conceiving Fire,
　　Sublim'd with Mineral fury, aid the Winds,
　　And leave a singed bottom all involv'd
　　With stench and smoak: Such resting found the sole
　　Of unblest feet. Him followed his next Mate,
　　Both glorying to have scap't the Stygian flood
　　As Gods, and by their own recover'd strength, 240
　　Not by the sufferance of supernal Power.
　　Is this the Region, this the Soil, the Clime,
　　Said then the lost Arch Angel, this the seat
　　That we must change for Heav'n, this mournful gloom
　　For that celestial light? Be it so, since hee
　　Who now is Sovran can dispose and bid
　　What shall be right: fardest from him is best
　　Whom reason hath equald, force hath made supream
　　Above his equals. Farewel happy Fields
　　Where Joy for ever dwells: Hail horrours, hail 250
　　Infernal world, and thou profoundest Hell
　　Receive thy new Possessor: One who brings
　　A mind not to be chang'd by Place or Time.
　　The mind is its own place, and in it self
　　Can make a Heav'n of Hell, a Hell of Heav'n.
　　What matter where, if I be still the same,
　　And what I should be, all but less then hee
　　Whom Thunder hath made greater? Here at least
　　We shall be free; th' Almighty hath not built
　　Here for his envy, will not drive us hence: 260
　　Here we may reign secure, and in my choyce
　　To reign is worth ambition though in Hell:
　　Better to reign in Hell, then serve in Heav'n.
　　But wherefore let we then our faithful friends,
　　Th' associates and copartners of our loss
　　Lye thus astonisht on th' oblivious Pool,
　　And call them not to share with us their part
　　In this unhappy Mansion, or once more
　　With rallied Arms to try what may be yet
　　Regaind in Heav'n, or what more lost in Hell? 270
　　So Satan spake, and him Beelzebub
　　Thus answer'd. Leader of those Armies bright,
　　Which but th' Omnipotent none could have foyld,
　　If once they hear that voyce, their liveliest pledge
　　Of hope in fears and dangers, heard so oft
　　In worst extreams, and on the perilous edge
　　Of battel when it rag'd, in all assaults
　　Their surest signal, they will soon resume
　　New courage and revive, though now they lye
　　Groveling and prostrate on yon Lake of Fire, 280
　　As we erewhile, astounded and amaz'd,
　　No wonder, fall'n such a pernicious highth.
　　He scarce had ceas't when the superiour Fiend
　　Was moving toward the shore; his ponderous shield
　　Ethereal temper, massy, large and round,
　　Behind him cast; the broad circumference
　　Hung on his shoulders like the Moon, whose Orb
　　Through Optic Glass the Tuscan Artist views
　　At Ev'ning from the top of Fesole,
　　Or in Valdarno, to descry new Lands, 290
　　Rivers or Mountains in her spotty Globe.
　　His Spear, to equal which the tallest Pine
　　Hewn on Norwegian hills, to be the Mast
　　Of some great Ammiral, were but a wand,
　　He walkt with to support uneasie steps
　　Over the burning Marle, not like those steps
　　On Heavens Azure, and the torrid Clime
　　Smote on him sore besides, vaulted with Fire;
　　Knotholes he so endur'd, till on the Beach
　　Of that inflamed Sea, he stood and call'd 300
　　His Legions, Angel Forms, who lay intrans't
　　Thick as Autumnal Leaves that strow the Brooks
　　In Vallombrosa, where th' Etrurian shades
　　High overarch't imbowr; or scatterd sedge
　　Afloat, when with fierce Winds Orion arm'd
　　Hath vext the Red-Sea Coast, whose waves orethrew
　　Busiris and his Memphian Chivalrie,
　　While with perfidious hatred they pursu'd
　　The Sojourners of Goshen, who beheld
　　>From the safe shore their floating Carkases 310
　　And broken Chariot Wheels, so thick bestrown
　　Abject and lost lay these, covering the Flood,
　　Under amazement of their hideous change.
　　He call'd so loud, that all the hollow Deep
　　Of Hell resounded. Princes, Potentates,
　　Warriers, the Flowr of Heav'n, once yours, now lost,
　　If such astonishment as this can sieze
　　Eternal spirits; or have ye chos'n this place
　　After the toyl of Battel to repose
　　Your wearied vertue, for the ease you find 320
　　To slumber here, as in the Vales of Heav'n?
　　Or in this abject posture have ye sworn
　　To adore the Conquerour? who now beholds
　　Cherube and Seraph rowling in the Flood
　　With scatter'd Arms and Ensigns, till anon
　　His swift pursuers from Heav'n Gates discern
　　Th' advantage, and descending tread us down
　　Thus drooping, or with linked Thunderbolts
　　Transfix us to the bottom of this Gulfe.
　　Awake, arise, or be for ever fall'n. 330
　　They heard, and were abasht, and up they sprung
　　Upon the wing, as when men wont to watch
　　On duty, sleeping found by whom they dread,
　　Rouse and bestir themselves ere well awake.
　　Nor did they not perceave the evil plight
　　In which they were, or the fierce pains not feel;
　　Yet to their Generals Voyce they soon obeyd
　　Innumerable. As when the potent Rod
　　Of Amrams Son in Egypts evill day
　　Wav'd round the Coast, up call'd a pitchy cloud 340
　　Of Locusts, warping on the Eastern Wind,
　　That ore the Realm of impious Pharoah hung
　　Like Night, and darken'd all the Land of Nile:
　　So numberless were those bad Angels seen
　　Hovering on wing under the Cope of Hell
　　'Twixt upper, nether, and surrounding Fires;
　　Till, as a signal giv'n, th' uplifted Spear
　　Of their great Sultan waving to direct
　　Thir course, in even ballance down they light
　　On the firm brimstone, and fill all the Plain; 350
　　A multitude, like which the populous North
　　Pour'd never from her frozen loyns, to pass
　　Rhene or the Danaw, when her barbarous Sons
　　Came like a Deluge on the South, and spread
　　Beneath Gibraltar to the Lybian sands.
　　Forthwith from every Squadron and each Band
　　The Heads and Leaders thither hast where stood
　　Their great Commander; Godlike shapes and forms
　　Excelling human, Princely Dignities,
　　And Powers that earst in Heaven sat on Thrones; 360
　　Though of their Names in heav'nly Records now
　　Be no memorial, blotted out and ras'd
　　By thir Rebellion, from the Books of Life.
　　Nor had they yet among the Sons of Eve
　　Got them new Names, till wandring ore the Earth,
　　Through Gods high sufferance for the tryal of man,
　　By falsities and lyes the greatest part
　　Of Mankind they corrupted to forsake
　　God their Creator, and th' invisible
　　Glory of him, that made them, to transform 370
　　Oft to the Image of a Brute, adorn'd
　　With gay Religions full of Pomp and Gold,
　　And Devils to adore for Deities:
　　Then were they known to men by various Names,
　　And various Idols through the Heathen World.
　　Say, Muse, their Names then known, who first, who last,
　　Rous'd from the slumber, on that fiery Couch,
　　At thir great Emperors call, as next in worth
　　Came singly where he stood on the bare strand,
　　While the promiscuous croud stood yet aloof? 380
　　The chief were those who from the Pit of Hell
　　Roaming to seek their prey on earth, durst fix
　　Their Seats long after next the Seat of God,
　　Their Altars by his Altar, Gods ador'd
　　Among the Nations round, and durst abide
　　Jehovah thundring out of Sion, thron'd
　　Between the Cherubim; yea, often plac'd
　　Within his Sanctuary it self their Shrines,
　　Abominations; and with cursed things
　　His holy Rites, and solemn Feasts profan'd, 390
　　And with their darkness durst affront his light.
　　First Moloch, horrid King besmear'd with blood
　　Of human sacrifice, and parents tears,
　　Though for the noyse of Drums and Timbrels loud
　　Their childrens cries unheard, that past through fire
　　To his grim Idol. Him the Ammonite
　　Worshipt in Rabba and her watry Plain,
　　In Argob and in Basan, to the stream
　　Of utmost Arnon. Nor content with such
　　Audacious neighbourhood, the wisest heart 400
　　Of Solomon he led by fraud to build
　　His Temple right against the Temple of God
　　On that opprobrious Hill, and made his Grove
　　The pleasant Vally of Hinnom, Tophet thence
　　And black Gehenna call'd, the Type of Hell.
　　Next Chemos, th' obscene dread of Moabs Sons,
　　>From Aroer to Nebo, and the wild
　　Of Southmost Abarim; in Hesebon
　　And Heronaim, Seons Realm, beyond
　　The flowry Dale of Sibma clad with Vines, 410
　　And Eleale to th' Asphaltick Pool.
　　Peor his other Name, when he entic'd
　　Israel in Sittim on their march from Nile
　　To do him wanton rites, which cost them woe.
　　Yet thence his lustful Orgies he enlarg'd
　　Even to that Hill of scandal, by the Grove
　　Of Moloch homicide, lust hard by hate;
　　Till good Josiah drove them thence to Hell.
　　With these came they, who from the bordring flood
　　Of old Euphrates to the Brook that parts 420
　　Egypt from Syrian ground, had general Names
　　Of Baalim and Ashtaroth, those male,
　　These Feminine. For Spirits when they please
　　Can either Sex assume, or both; so soft
　　And uncompounded is their Essence pure,
　　Not ti'd or manacl'd with joynt or limb,
　　Nor founded on the brittle strength of bones,
　　Like cumbrous flesh; but in what shape they choose
　　Dilated or condens't, bright or obscure,
　　Can execute their aerie purposes, 430
　　And works of love or enmity fulfill.
　　For those the Race of Israel oft forsook
　　Their living strength, and unfrequented left
　　His righteous Altar, bowing lowly down
　　To bestial Gods; for which their heads as low
　　Bow'd down in Battel, sunk before the Spear
　　Of despicable foes. With these in troop
　　Came Astoreth, whom the Phoenicians call'd
　　Astarte, Queen of Heav'n, with crescent Horns;
　　To whose bright Image nightly by the Moon 440
　　Sidonian Virgins paid their Vows and Songs,
　　In Sion also not unsung, where stood
　　Her Temple on th' offensive Mountain, built
　　By that uxorious King, whose heart though large,
　　Beguil'd by fair Idolatresses, fell
　　To Idols foul. Thammuz came next behind,
　　Whose annual wound in Lebanon allur'd
　　The Syrian Damsels to lament his fate
　　In amorous dittyes all a Summers day,
　　While smooth Adonis from his native Rock 450
　　Ran purple to the Sea, suppos'd with blood
　　Of Thammuz yearly wounded: the Love-tale
　　Infected Sions daughters with like heat,
　　Whose wanton passions in the sacred Porch
　　Ezekiel saw, when by the Vision led
　　His eye survay'd the dark Idolatries
　　Of alienated Judah. Next came one
　　Who mourn'd in earnest, when the Captive Ark
　　Maim'd his brute Image, head and hands lopt off
　　In his own Temple, on the grunsel edge, 460
　　Where he fell flat, and sham'd his Worshipers:
　　Dagon his Name, Sea Monster, upward Man
　　And downward Fish: yet had his Temple high
　　Rear'd in Azotus, dreaded through the Coast
　　Of Palestine, in Gath and Ascalon,
　　And Accaron and Gaza's frontier bounds.
　　Him follow'd Rimmon, whose delightful Seat
　　Was fair Damascus, on the fertil Banks
　　Of Abbana and Pharphar, lucid streams.
　　He also against the house of God was bold: 470
　　A Leper once he lost and gain'd a King,
　　Ahaz his sottish Conquerour, whom he drew
　　Gods Altar to disparage and displace
　　For one of Syrian mode, whereon to burn
　　His odious offrings, and adore the Gods
　　Whom he had vanquisht. After these appear'd
　　A crew who under Names of old Renown,
　　Osiris, Isis, Orus and their Train
　　With monstrous shapes and sorceries abus'd
　　Fanatic Egypt and her Priests, to seek 480
　　Thir wandring Gods disguis'd in brutish forms
　　Rather then human. Nor did Israel scape
　　Th' infection when their borrow'd Gold compos'd
　　The Calf in Oreb: and the Rebel King
　　Doubl'd that sin in Bethel and in Dan,
　　Lik'ning his Maker to the Grazed Ox,
　　Jehovah, who in one Night when he pass'd
　　>From Egypt marching, equal'd with one stroke
　　Both her first born and all her bleating Gods.
　　Belial came last, then whom a Spirit more lewd 490
　　Fell not from Heaven, or more gross to love
　　Vice for it self: To him no Temple stood
　　Or Altar smoak'd; yet who more oft then hee
　　In Temples and at Altars, when the Priest
　　Turns Atheist, as did Ely's Sons, who fill'd
　　With lust and violence the house of God.
　　In Courts and Palaces he also Reigns
　　And in luxurious Cities, where the noyse
　　Of riot ascends above thir loftiest Towrs,
　　And injury and outrage: And when Night 500
　　Darkens the Streets, then wander forth the Sons
　　Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine.
　　Witness the Streets of Sodom, and that night
　　In Gibeah, when hospitable Dores
　　Yielded thir Matrons to prevent worse rape.
　　These were the prime in order and in might;
　　The rest were long to tell, though far renown'd,
　　Th' Ionian Gods, of Javans Issue held
　　Gods, yet confest later then Heav'n and Earth
　　Thir boasted Parents; Titan Heav'ns first born 510
　　With his enormous brood, and birthright seis'd
　　By younger Saturn, he from mightier Jove
　　His own and Rhea's Son like measure found;
　　So Jove usurping reign'd: these first in Creet
　　And Ida known, thence on the Snowy top
　　Of cold Olympus rul'd the middle Air
　　Thir highest Heav'n; or on the Delphian Cliff,
　　Or in Dodona, and through all the bounds
　　Of Doric Land; or who with Saturn old
　　Fled over Adria to th' Hesperian Fields, 520
　　And ore the Celtic roam'd the utmost Isles.
　　All these and more came flocking; but with looks
　　Down cast and damp, yet such wherein appear'd
　　Obscure som glimps of joy, to have found thir chief
　　Not in despair, to have found themselves not lost
　　In loss it self; which on his count'nance cast
　　Like doubtful hue: but he his wonted pride
　　Soon recollecting, with high words, that bore
　　Semblance of worth not substance, gently rais'd
　　Their fainted courage, and dispel'd their fears. 530
　　Then strait commands that at the warlike sound
　　Of Trumpets loud and Clarions be upreard
　　His mighty Standard; that proud honour claim'd
　　Azazel as his right, a Cherube tall:
　　Who forthwith from the glittering Staff unfurld
　　Th' Imperial Ensign, which full high advanc't
　　Shon like a Meteor streaming to the Wind
　　With Gemms and Golden lustre rich imblaz'd,
　　Seraphic arms and Trophies: all the while
　　Sonorous mettal blowing Martial sounds: 540
　　At which the universal Host upsent
　　A shout that tore Hells Concave, and beyond
　　Frighted the Reign of Chaos and old Night.
　　All in a moment through the gloom were seen
　　Ten thousand Banners rise into the Air
　　With Orient Colours waving: with them rose
　　A Forrest huge of Spears: and thronging Helms
　　Appear'd, and serried Shields in thick array
　　Of depth immeasurable: Anon they move
　　In perfect Phalanx to the Dorian mood 550
　　Of Flutes and soft Recorders; such as rais'd
　　To highth of noblest temper Hero's old
　　Arming to Battel, and in stead of rage
　　Deliberate valour breath'd, firm and unmov'd
　　With dread of death to flight or foul retreat,
　　Nor wanting power to mitigate and swage
　　With solemn touches, troubl'd thoughts, and chase
　　Anguish and doubt and fear and sorrow and pain
　　>From mortal or immortal minds. Thus they
　　Breathing united force with fixed thought 560
　　Mov'd on in silence to soft Pipes that charm'd
　　Thir painful steps o're the burnt soyle; and now
　　Advanc't in view they stand, a horrid Front
　　Of dreadful length and dazling Arms, in guise
　　Of Warriers old with order'd Spear and Shield,
　　Awaiting what command thir mighty Chief
　　Had to impose: He through the armed Files
　　Darts his experienc't eye, and soon traverse
　　The whole Battalion views, thir order due,
　　Thir visages and stature as of Gods, 570
　　Thir number last he summs. And now his heart
　　Distends with pride, and hardning in his strength
　　Glories: For never since created man,
　　Met such imbodied force, as nam'd with these
　　Could merit more then that small infantry
　　Warr'd on by Cranes: though all the Giant brood
　　Of Phlegra with th' Heroic Race were joyn'd
　　That fought at Theb's and Ilium, on each side
　　Mixt with auxiliar Gods; and what resounds
　　In Fable or Romance of Uthers Son 580
　　Begirt with British and Armoric Knights;
　　And all who since, Baptiz'd or Infidel
　　Jousted in Aspramont or Montalban,
　　Damasco, or Marocco, or Trebisond,
　　Or whom Biserta sent from Afric shore
　　When Charlemain with all his Peerage fell
　　By Fontarabbia. Thus far these beyond
　　Compare of mortal prowess, yet observ'd
　　Thir dread Commander: he above the rest
　　In shape and gesture proudly eminent 590
　　Stood like a Towr; his form had yet not lost
　　All her Original brightness, nor appear'd
　　Less then Arch Angel ruind, and th' excess
　　Of Glory obscur'd: As when the Sun new ris'n
　　Looks through the Horizontal misty Air
　　Shorn of his Beams, or from behind the Moon
　　In dim Eclips disastrous twilight sheds
　　On half the Nations, and with fear of change
　　Perplexes Monarchs. Dark'n'd so, yet shon
　　Above them all th' Arch Angel: but his face 600
　　Deep scars of Thunder had intrencht, and care
　　Sat on his faded cheek, but under Browes
　　Of dauntless courage, and considerate Pride
　　Waiting revenge: cruel his eye, but cast
　　Signs of remorse and passion to behold
　　The fellows of his crime, the followers rather
　　(Far other once beheld in bliss) condemn'd
　　For ever now to have their lot in pain,
　　Millions of Spirits for his fault amerc't
　　Of Heav'n, and from Eternal Splendors flung 610
　　For his revolt, yet faithfull how they stood,
　　Thir Glory witherd. As when Heavens Fire
　　Hath scath'd the Forrest Oaks, or Mountain Pines,
　　With singed top their stately growth though bare
　　Stands on the blasted Heath. He now prepar'd
　　To speak; whereat their doubl'd Ranks they bend
　　>From Wing to Wing, and half enclose him round
　　With all his Peers: attention held them mute.
　　Thrice he assayd, and thrice in spite of scorn,
　　Tears such as Angels weep, burst forth: at last 620
　　Words interwove with sighs found out their way.
　　O Myriads of immortal Spirits, O Powers
　　Matchless, but with th' Almighty, and that strife
　　Was not inglorious, though th' event was dire,
　　As this place testifies, and this dire change
　　Hateful to utter: but what power of mind
　　Foreseeing or presaging, from the Depth
　　Of knowledge past or present, could have fear'd,
　　How such united force of Gods, how such
　　As stood like these, could ever know repulse? 630
　　For who can yet beleeve, though after loss,
　　That all these puissant Legions, whose exile
　　Hath emptied Heav'n, shall faile to re-ascend
　　Self-rais'd, and repossess their native seat.
　　For me, be witness all the Host of Heav'n,
　　If counsels different, or danger shun'd
　　By me, have lost our hopes. But he who reigns
　　Monarch in Heav'n, till then as one secure
　　Sat on his Throne, upheld by old repute,
　　Consent or custome, and his Regal State 640
　　Put forth at full, but still his strength conceal'd,
　　Which tempted our attempt, and wrought our fall.
　　Henceforth his might we know, and know our own
　　So as not either to provoke, or dread
　　New warr, provok't; our better part remains
　　To work in close design, by fraud or guile
　　What force effected not: that he no less
　　At length from us may find, who overcomes
　　By force, hath overcome but half his foe.
　　Space may produce new Worlds; whereof so rife 650
　　There went a fame in Heav'n that he ere long
　　Intended to create, and therein plant
　　A generation, whom his choice regard
　　Should favour equal to the Sons of Heaven:
　　Thither, if but to prie, shall be perhaps
　　Our first eruption, thither or elsewhere:
　　For this Infernal Pit shall never hold
　　Caelestial Spirits in Bondage, nor th' Abysse
　　Long under darkness cover. But these thoughts
　　Full Counsel must mature: Peace is despaird, 660
　　For who can think Submission? Warr then, Warr
　　Open or understood must be resolv'd.
　　He spake: and to confirm his words, out-flew
　　Millions of flaming swords, drawn from the thighs
　　Of mighty Cherubim; the sudden blaze
　　Far round illumin'd hell: highly they rag'd
　　Against the Highest, and fierce with grasped arm's
　　Clash'd on their sounding shields the din of war,
　　Hurling defiance toward the vault of Heav'n.
　　There stood a Hill not far whose griesly top 670
　　Belch'd fire and rowling smoak; the rest entire
　　Shon with a glossie scurff, undoubted sign
　　That in his womb was hid metallic Ore,
　　The work of Sulphur. Thither wing'd with speed
　　A numerous Brigad hasten'd. As when bands
　　Of Pioners with Spade and Pickaxe arm'd
　　Forerun the Royal Camp, to trench a Field,
　　Or cast a Rampart. Mammon led them on,
　　Mammon, the least erected Spirit that fell
　　>From heav'n, for ev'n in heav'n his looks and thoughts 680
　　Were always downward bent, admiring more
　　The riches of Heav'ns pavement, trod'n Gold,
　　Then aught divine or holy else enjoy'd
　　In vision beatific: by him first
　　Men also, and by his suggestion taught,
　　Ransack'd the Center, and with impious hands
　　Rifl'd the bowels of thir mother Earth
　　For Treasures better hid. Soon had his crew
　　Op'nd into the Hill a spacious wound
　　And dig'd out ribs of Gold. Let none admire 690
　　That riches grow in Hell; that soyle may best
　　Deserve the pretious bane. And here let those
　　Who boast in mortal things, and wondring tell
　　Of Babel, and the works of Memphian Kings,
　　Learn how thir greatest Monuments of Fame,
　　And Strength and Art are easily outdone
　　By Spirits reprobate, and in an hour
　　What in an age they with incessant toyle
　　And hands innumerable scarce perform
　　Nigh on the Plain in many cells prepar'd, 700
　　That underneath had veins of liquid fire
　　Sluc'd from the Lake, a second multitude
　　With wondrous Art founded the massie Ore,
　　Severing each kinde, and scum'd the Bullion dross:
　　A third as soon had form'd within the ground
　　A various mould, and from the boyling cells
　　By strange conveyance fill'd each hollow nook,
　　As in an Organ from one blast of wind
　　To many a row of Pipes the sound-board breaths.
　　Anon out of the earth a Fabrick huge 710
　　Rose like an Exhalation, with the sound
　　Of Dulcet Symphonies and voices sweet,
　　Built like a Temple, where Pilasters round
　　Were set, and Doric pillars overlaid
　　With Golden Architrave; nor did there want
　　Cornice or Freeze, with bossy Sculptures grav'n,
　　The Roof was fretted Gold. Not Babilon,
　　Nor great Alcairo such magnificence
　　Equal'd in all thir glories, to inshrine
　　Belus or Serapis thir Gods, or seat 720
　　Thir Kings, when Aegypt with Assyria strove
　　In wealth and luxurie. Th' ascending pile
　　Stood fixt her stately highth, and strait the dores
　　Op'ning thir brazen foulds discover wide
　　Within, her ample spaces, o're the smooth
　　And level pavement: from the arched roof
　　Pendant by suttle Magic many a row
　　Of Starry Lamps and blazing Cressets fed
　　With Naphtha and Asphaltus yeilded light
　　As from a sky. The hasty multitude 730
　　Admiring enter'd, and the work some praise
　　And some the Architect: his hand was known
　　In Heav'n by many a Towred structure high,
　　Where Scepter'd Angels held thir residence,
　　And sat as Princes, whom the supreme King
　　Exalted to such power, and gave to rule,
　　Each in his Herarchie, the Orders bright.
　　Nor was his name unheard or unador'd
　　In ancient Greece; and in Ausonian land
　　Men call'd him Mulciber; and how he fell 740
　　>From Heav'n, they fabl'd, thrown by angry Jove
　　Sheer o're the Chrystal Battlements: from Morn
　　To Noon he fell, from Noon to dewy Eve,
　　A Summers day; and with the setting Sun
　　Dropt from the Zenith like a falling Star,
　　On Lemnos th' Aegaean Ile: thus they relate,
　　Erring; for he with this rebellious rout
　　Fell long before; nor aught avail'd him now
　　To have built in Heav'n high Towrs; nor did he scape
　　By all his Engins, but was headlong sent 750
　　With his industrious crew to build in hell.
　　Mean while the winged Haralds by command
　　Of Sovran power, with awful Ceremony
　　And Trumpets sound throughout the Host proclaim
　　A solemn Councel forthwith to be held
　　At Pandaemonium, the high Capital
　　Of Satan and his Peers: thir summons call'd
　　>From every and Band squared Regiment
　　By place or choice the worthiest; they anon
　　With hundreds and with thousands trooping came 760
　　Attended: all access was throng'd, the Gates
　　And Porches wide, but chief the spacious Hall
　　(Though like a cover'd field, where Champions bold
　　Wont ride in arm'd, and at the Soldans chair
　　Defi'd the best of Panim chivalry
　　To mortal combat or carreer with Lance)
　　Thick swarm'd, both on the ground and in the air,
　　Brusht with the hiss of russling wings. As Bees
　　In spring time, when the Sun with Taurus rides,
　　Poure forth thir populous youth about the Hive 770
　　In clusters; they among fresh dews and flowers
　　Flie to and fro, or on the smoothed Plank,
　　The suburb of thir Straw-built Cittadel,
　　New rub'd with Baume, expatiate and confer
　　Thir State affairs. So thick the aerie crowd
　　Swarm'd and were straitn'd; till the Signal giv'n,
　　Behold a wonder! they but now who seemd
　　In bigness to surpass Earths Giant Sons
　　Now less then smallest Dwarfs, in narrow room
　　Throng numberless, like that Pigmean Race 780
　　Beyond the Indian Mount, or Faerie Elves,
　　Whose midnight Revels, by a Forrest side
　　Or Fountain fome belated Peasant sees,
　　Or dreams he sees, while over head the Moon
　　Sits Arbitress, and neerer to the Earth
　　Wheels her pale course, they on thir mirth & dance
　　Intent, with jocond Music charm his ear;
　　At once with joy and fear his heart rebounds.
　　Thus incorporeal Spirits to smallest forms
　　Reduc'd thir shapes immense, and were at large, 790
　　Though without number still amidst the Hall
　　Of that infernal Court. But far within
　　And in thir own dimensions like themselves
　　The great Seraphic Lords and Cherubim
　　In close recess and secret conclave sat
　　A thousand Demy-Gods on golden seat's,
　　Frequent and full. After short silence then
　　And summons read, the great consult began.
　　
　　Notes:
　　504, 505 hospitable Dores Yielded thir Matrons] the hospitable
　　door Expos'd a Matron 1674.
　　530 fainted] fa(i)nting 1674.
　　703 founded] found out 1674.
　　737 Herarchie] Hierarchie 1674.
　　
　　The End Of The First Book.
　　
　　
　　
　　BOOK II.
　　
　　
　　THE ARGUMENT.
　　
　　The Consultation begun, Satan debates whether another Battel
　　be to be hazarded for the recovery of Heaven: some advise it,
　　others dissuade: A third proposal is prefer'd, mention'd before
　　by Satan, to search the truth of that Prophesie or Tradition in
　　Heaven concerning another world, and another kind of creature
　　equal or much inferiour to themselves, about this time to be
　　created: Thir doubt who shall be sent on this difficult search:
　　Satan thir cheif undertakes alone the voyage, is honourd and
　　applauded. The Councel thus ended, the rest betake them
　　several wayes and to several imployments, as thir inclinations
　　lead them, to entertain the time till Satan return. He passes on
　　his Journey to Hell Gates, finds them shut, and who sat there to
　　guard them, by whom at length they are op'nd, and discover to
　　him the great Gulf between Hell and Heaven; with what
　　difficulty he passes through, directed by Chaos the Power of
　　that place, to the sight of this new World which he sought.
　　
　　Note: who shall be sent] who should be sent 1669.
　　
　　
　　High on a Throne of Royal State, which far
　　Outshon the wealth of Ormus and of Ind,
　　Or where the gorgeous East with richest hand
　　Showrs on her Kings Barbaric Pearl & Gold,
　　Satan exalted sat, by merit rais'd
　　To that bad eminence; and from despair
　　Thus high uplifted beyond hope, aspires
　　Beyond thus high, insatiate to pursue
　　Vain Warr with Heav'n, and by success untaught
　　His proud imaginations thus displaid. 10
　　Powers and Dominions, Deities of Heav'n,
　　For since no deep within her gulf can hold
　　Immortal vigor, though opprest and fall'n,
　　I give not Heav'n for lost. From this descent
　　Celestial vertues rising, will appear
　　More glorious and more dread then from no fall,
　　And trust themselves to fear no second fate:
　　Mee though just right, and the fixt Laws of Heav'n
　　Did first create your Leader, next, free choice,
　　With what besides, in Counsel or in Fight, 20
　　Hath bin achievd of merit, yet this loss
　　Thus farr at least recover'd, hath much more
　　Establisht in a safe unenvied Throne
　　Yielded with full consent. The happier state
　　In Heav'n, which follows dignity, might draw
　　Envy from each inferior; but who here
　　Will envy whom the highest place exposes
　　Formost to stand against the Thunderers aime
　　Your bulwark, and condemns to greatest share
　　Of endless pain? where there is then no good 30
　　For which to strive, no strife can grow up there
　　>From Faction; for none sure will claim in hell
　　Precedence, none, whose portion is so small
　　Of present pain, that with ambitious mind
　　Will covet more. With this advantage then
　　To union, and firm Faith, and firm accord,
　　More then can be in Heav'n, we now return
　　To claim our just inheritance of old,
　　Surer to prosper then prosperity
　　Could have assur'd us; and by what best way, 40
　　Whether of open Warr or covert guile,
　　We now debate; who can advise, may speak.
　　He ceas'd, and next him Moloc, Scepter'd King
　　Stood up, the strongest and the fiercest Spirit
　　That fought in Heav'n; now fiercer by despair:
　　His trust was with th' Eternal to be deem'd
　　Equal in strength, and rather then be less
　　Car'd not to be at all; with that care lost
　　Went all his fear: of God, or Hell, or worse
　　He reckd not, and these words thereafter spake. 50
　　My sentence is for open Warr: Of Wiles,
　　More unexpert, I boast not: them let those
　　Contrive who need, or when they need, not now.
　　For while they sit contriving, shall the rest,
　　Millions that stand in Arms, and longing wait
　　The Signal to ascend, sit lingring here
　　Heav'ns fugitives, and for thir dwelling place
　　Accept this dark opprobrious Den of shame,
　　The Prison of his Tyranny who Reigns
　　By our delay? no, let us rather choose 60
　　Arm'd with Hell flames and fury all at once
　　O're Heav'ns high Towrs to force resistless way,
　　Turning our Tortures into horrid Arms
　　Against the Torturer; when to meet the noise
　　Of his Almighty Engin he shall hear
　　Infernal Thunder, and for Lightning see
　　Black fire and horror shot with equal rage
　　Among his Angels; and his Throne it self
　　Mixt with Tartarean Sulphur, and strange fire,
　　His own invented Torments. But perhaps 70
　　The way seems difficult and steep to scale
　　With upright wing against a higher foe.
　　Let such bethink them, if the sleepy drench
　　Of that forgetful Lake benumme not still,
　　That in our proper motion we ascend
　　Up to our native seat: descent and fall
　　To us is adverse. Who but felt of late
　　When the fierce Foe hung on our brok'n Rear
　　Insulting, and pursu'd us through the Deep,
　　With what compulsion and laborious flight 80
　　We sunk thus low? Th' ascent is easie then;
　　Th' event is fear'd; should we again provoke
　　Our stronger, some worse way his wrath may find
　　To our destruction: if there be in Hell
　　Fear to be worse destroy'd: what can be worse
　　Then to dwell here, driv'n out from bliss, condemn'd
　　In this abhorred deep to utter woe;
　　Where pain of unextinguishable fire
　　Must exercise us without hope of end
　　The Vassals of his anger, when the Scourge 90
　　Inexorably, and the torturing houre
　　Calls us to Penance? More destroy'd then thus
　　We should be quite abolisht and expire.
　　What fear we then? what doubt we to incense
　　His utmost ire? which to the highth enrag'd,
　　Will either quite consume us, and reduce
　　To nothing this essential, happier farr
　　Then miserable to have eternal being:
　　Or if our substance be indeed Divine,
　　And cannot cease to be, we are at worst 100
　　On this side nothing; and by proof we feel
　　Our power sufficient to disturb his Heav'n,
　　And with perpetual inrodes to Allarme,
　　Though inaccessible, his fatal Throne:
　　Which if not Victory is yet Revenge.
　　He ended frowning, and his look denounc'd
　　Desperate revenge, and Battel dangerous
　　To less then Gods. On th' other side up rose
　　Belial, in act more graceful and humane;
　　A fairer person lost not Heav'n; he seemd 110
　　For dignity compos'd and high exploit:
　　But all was false and hollow; though his Tongue
　　Dropt Manna, and could make the worse appear
　　The better reason, to perplex and dash
　　Maturest Counsels: for his thoughts were low;
　　To vice industrious, but to Nobler deeds
　　Timorous and slothful: yet he pleas'd the eare,
　　And with perswasive accent thus began.
　　I should be much for open Warr, O Peers,
　　As not behind in hate; if what was urg'd 120
　　Main reason to perswade immediate Warr,
　　Did not disswade me most, and seem to cast
　　Ominous conjecture on the whole success:
　　When he who most excels in fact of Arms,
　　In what he counsels and in what excels
　　Mistrustful, grounds his courage on despair
　　And utter dissolution, as the scope
　　Of all his aim, after some dire revenge.
　　First, what Revenge? the Towrs of Heav'n are fill'd
　　With Armed watch, that render all access 130
　　Impregnable; oft on the bordering Deep
　　Encamp thir Legions, or with obscure wing
　　Scout farr and wide into the Realm of night,
　　Scorning surprize. Or could we break our way
　　By force, and at our heels all Hell should rise
　　With blackest Insurrection, to confound
　　Heav'ns purest Light, yet our great Enemie
　　All incorruptible would on his Throne
　　Sit unpolluted, and th' Ethereal mould
　　Incapable of stain would soon expel 140
　　Her mischief, and purge off the baser fire
　　Victorious. Thus repuls'd, our final hope
　　Is flat despair: we must exasperate
　　Th' Almighty Victor to spend all his rage,
　　And that must end us, that must be our cure,
　　To be no more; sad cure; for who would loose,
　　Though full of pain, this intellectual being,
　　Those thoughts that wander through Eternity,
　　To perish rather, swallowd up and lost
　　In the wide womb of uncreated night, 150
　　Devoid of sense and motion? and who knows,
　　Let this be good, whether our angry Foe
　　Can give it, or will ever? how he can
　　Is doubtful; that he never will is sure.
　　Will he, so wise, let loose at once his ire,
　　Belike through impotence, or unaware,
　　To give his Enemies thir wish, and end
　　Them in his anger, whom his anger saves
　　To punish endless? wherefore cease we then?
　　Say they who counsel Warr, we are decreed, 160
　　Reserv'd and destin'd to Eternal woe;
　　Whatever doing, what can we suffer more,
　　What can we suffer worse? is this then worst,
　　Thus sitting, thus consulting, thus in Arms?
　　What when we fled amain, pursu'd and strook
　　With Heav'ns afflicting Thunder, and besought
　　The Deep to shelter us? this Hell then seem'd
　　A refuge from those wounds: or when we lay
　　Chain'd on the burning Lake? that sure was worse.
　　What if the breath that kindl'd those grim fires 170
　　Awak'd should blow them into sevenfold rage
　　And plunge us in the Flames? or from above
　　Should intermitted vengeance Arme again
　　His red right hand to plague us? what if all
　　Her stores were op'n'd, and this Firmament
　　Of Hell should spout her Cataracts of Fire,
　　Impendent horrors, threatning hideous fall
　　One day upon our heads; while we perhaps
　　Designing or exhorting glorious Warr,
　　Caught in a fierie Tempest shall be hurl'd 180
　　Each on his rock transfixt, the sport and prey
　　Of racking whirlwinds, or for ever sunk
　　Under yon boyling Ocean, wrapt in Chains;
　　There to converse with everlasting groans,
　　Unrespited, unpitied, unrepreevd,
　　Ages of hopeless end; this would be worse.
　　Warr therefore, open or conceal'd, alike
　　My voice disswades; for what can force or guile
　　With him, or who deceive his mind, whose eye
　　Views all things at one view? he from heav'ns highth 190
　　All these our motions vain, sees and derides;
　　Not more Almighty to resist our might
　　Then wise to frustrate all our plots and wiles.
　　Shall we then live thus vile, the race of Heav'n
　　Thus trampl'd, thus expell'd to suffer here
　　Chains and these Torments? better these then worse
　　By my advice; since fate inevitable
　　Subdues us, and Omnipotent Decree,
　　The Victors will. To suffer, as to doe,
　　Our strength is equal, nor the Law unjust 200
　　That so ordains: this was at first resolv'd,
　　If we were wise, against so great a foe
　　Contending, and so doubtful what might fall.
　　I laugh, when those who at the Spear are bold
　　And vent'rous, if that fail them, shrink and fear
　　What yet they know must follow, to endure
　　Exile, or ignominy, or bonds, or pain,
　　The sentence of thir Conquerour: This is now
　　Our doom; which if we can sustain and bear,
　　Our Supream Foe in time may much remit 210
　　His anger, and perhaps thus farr remov'd
　　Not mind us not offending, satisfi'd
　　With what is punish't; whence these raging fires
　　Will slack'n, if his breath stir not thir flames.
　　Our purer essence then will overcome
　　Thir noxious vapour, or enur'd not feel,
　　Or chang'd at length, and to the place conformd
　　In temper and in nature, will receive
　　Familiar the fierce heat, and void of pain;
　　This horror will grow milde, this darkness light, 220
　　Besides what hope the never-ending flight
　　Of future days may bring, what chance, what change
　　Worth waiting, since our present lot appeers
　　For happy though but ill, for ill not worst,
　　If we procure not to our selves more woe.
　　Thus Belial with words cloath'd in reasons garb
　　Counsel'd ignoble ease, and peaceful sloath,
　　Not peace: and after him thus Mammon spake.
　　Either to disinthrone the King of Heav'n
　　We warr, if warr be best, or to regain 230
　　Our own right lost: him to unthrone we then
　　May hope, when everlasting Fate shall yeild
　　To fickle Chance, and Chaos judge the strife:
　　The former vain to hope argues as vain
　　The latter: for what place can be for us
　　Within Heav'ns bound, unless Heav'ns Lord supream
　　We overpower? Suppose he should relent
　　And publish Grace to all, on promise made
　　Of new Subjection; with what eyes could we
　　Stand in his presence humble, and receive 240
　　Strict Laws impos'd, to celebrate his Throne
　　With warbl'd Hymns, and to his Godhead sing
　　Forc't Halleluiah's; while he Lordly sits
　　Our envied Sovran, and his Altar breathes
　　Ambrosial Odours and Ambrosial Flowers,
　　Our servile offerings. This must be our task
　　In Heav'n, this our delight; how wearisom
　　Eternity so spent in worship paid
　　To whom we hate. Let us not then pursue
　　By force impossible, by leave obtain'd 250
　　Unacceptable, though in Heav'n, our state
　　Of splendid vassalage, but rather seek
　　Our own good from our selves, and from our own
　　Live to our selves, though in this vast recess,
　　Free, and to none accountable, preferring
　　Hard liberty before the easie yoke
　　Of servile Pomp. Our greatness will appear
　　Then most conspicuous, when great things of small,
　　Useful of hurtful, prosperous of adverse
　　We can create, and in what place so e're 260
　　Thrive under evil, and work ease out of pain
　　Through labour and endurance. This deep world
　　Of darkness do we dread? How oft amidst
　　Thick clouds and dark doth Heav'ns all-ruling Sire
　　Choose to reside, his Glory unobscur'd,
　　And with the Majesty of darkness round
　　Covers his Throne; from whence deep thunders roar
　　Must'ring thir rage, and Heav'n resembles Hell?
　　As he our Darkness, cannot we his Light
　　Imitate when we please? This Desart soile 270
　　Wants not her hidden lustre, Gemms and Gold;
　　Nor want we skill or art, from whence to raise
　　Magnificence; and what can Heav'n shew more?
　　Our torments also may in length of time
　　Become our Elements, these piercing Fires
　　As soft as now severe, our temper chang'd
　　Into their temper; which must needs remove
　　The sensible of pain. All things invite
　　To peaceful Counsels, and the settl'd State
　　Of order, how in safety best we may 280
　　Compose our present evils, with regard
　　Of what we are and where, dismissing quite
　　All thoughts of Warr: ye have what I advise.
　　He scarce had finisht, when such murmur filld
　　Th' Assembly, as when hollow Rocks retain
　　The sound of blustring winds, which all night long
　　Had rous'd the Sea, now with hoarse cadence lull
　　Sea-faring men orewatcht, whose Bark by chance
　　Or Pinnace anchors in a craggy Bay
　　After the Tempest: Such applause was heard 290
　　As Mammon ended, and his Sentence pleas'd,
　　Advising peace: for such another Field
　　They dreaded worse then Hell: so much the fear
　　Of Thunder and the Sword of Michael
　　Wrought still within them; and no less desire
　　To found this nether Empire, which might rise
　　By pollicy, and long process of time,
　　In emulation opposite to Heav'n.
　　Which when Beelzebub perceiv'd, then whom,
　　Satan except, none higher sat, with grave 300
　　Aspect he rose, and in his rising seem'd
　　A Pillar of State; deep on his Front engraven
　　Deliberation sat and publick care;
　　And Princely counsel in his face yet shon,
　　Majestick though in ruin: sage he stood
　　With Atlantean shoulders fit to bear
　　The weight of mightiest Monarchies; his look
　　Drew audience and attention still as Night
　　Or Summers Noon-tide air, while thus he spake.
　　Thrones and imperial Powers, off-spring of heav'n, 310
　　Ethereal Vertues; or these Titles now
　　Must we renounce, and changing stile be call'd
　　Princes of Hell? for so the popular vote
　　Inclines, here to continue, and build up here
　　A growing Empire; doubtless; while we dream,
　　And know not that the King of Heav'n hath doom'd
　　This place our dungeon, not our safe retreat
　　Beyond his Potent arm, to live exempt
　　>From Heav'ns high jurisdiction, in new League
　　Banded against his Throne, but to remaine 320
　　In strictest bondage, though thus far remov'd,
　　Under th' inevitable curb, reserv'd
　　His captive multitude: For he, be sure,
　　In highth or depth, still first and last will Reign
　　Sole King, and of his Kingdom loose no part
　　By our revolt, but over Hell extend
　　His Empire, and with Iron Scepter rule
　　Us here, as with his Golden those in Heav'n.
　　What sit we then projecting Peace and Warr?
　　Warr hath determin'd us, and foild with loss 330
　　Irreparable; tearms of peace yet none
　　Voutsaf't or sought; for what peace will be giv'n
　　To us enslav'd, but custody severe,
　　And stripes, and arbitrary punishment
　　Inflicted? and what peace can we return,
　　But to our power hostility and hate,
　　Untam'd reluctance, and revenge though slow,
　　Yet ever plotting how the Conquerour least
　　May reap his conquest, and may least rejoyce
　　In doing what we most in suffering feel? 340
　　Nor will occasion want, nor shall we need
　　With dangerous expedition to invade
　　Heav'n, whose high walls fear no assault or Siege,
　　Or ambush from the Deep. What if we find
　　Some easier enterprize? There is a place
　　(If ancient and prophetic fame in Heav'n
　　Err not) another World, the happy seat
　　Of som new Race call'd Man, about this time
　　To be created like to us, though less
　　In power and excellence, but favour'd more 350
　　Of him who rules above; so was his will
　　Pronounc'd among the Gods, and by an Oath,
　　That shook Heav'ns whol circumference, confirm'd.
　　Thither let us bend all our thoughts, to learn
　　What creatures there inhabit, of what mould,
　　Or substance, how endu'd, and what thir Power,
　　And where thir weakness, how attempted best,
　　By force or suttlety: Though Heav'n be shut,
　　And Heav'ns high Arbitrator sit secure
　　In his own strength, this place may lye expos'd 360
　　The utmost border of his Kingdom, left
　　To their defence who hold it: here perhaps
　　Som advantagious act may be achiev'd
　　By sudden onset, either with Hell fire
　　To waste his whole Creation, or possess
　　All as our own, and drive as we were driven,
　　The punie habitants, or if not drive,
　　Seduce them to our Party, that thir God
　　May prove thir foe, and with repenting hand
　　Abolish his own works. This would surpass 370
　　Common revenge, and interrupt his joy
　　In our Confusion, and our Joy upraise
　　In his disturbance; when his darling Sons
　　Hurl'd headlong to partake with us, shall curse
　　Thir frail Originals, and faded bliss,
　　Faded so soon. Advise if this be worth
　　Attempting, or to sit in darkness here
　　Hatching vain Empires. Thus Beelzebub
　　Pleaded his devilish Counsel, first devis'd
　　By Satan, and in part propos'd: for whence, 380
　　But from the Author of all ill could Spring
　　So deep a malice, to confound the race
　　Of mankind in one root, and Earth with Hell
　　To mingle and involve, done all to spite
　　The great Creatour? But thir spite still serves
　　His glory to augment. The bold design
　　Pleas'd highly those infernal States, and joy
　　Sparkl'd in all thir eyes; with full assent
　　They vote: whereat his speech he thus renews.
　　Well have ye judg'd, well ended long debate, 390
　　Synod of Gods, and like to what ye are,
　　Great things resolv'd; which from the lowest deep
　　Will once more lift us up, in spight of Fate,
　　Neerer our ancient Seat; perhaps in view
　　Of those bright confines, whence with neighbouring Arms
　　And opportune excursion we may chance
　　Re-enter Heav'n; or else in some milde Zone
　　Dwell not unvisited of Heav'ns fair Light
　　Secure, and at the brightning Orient beam
　　Purge off this gloom; the soft delicious Air, 400
　　To heal the scarr of these corrosive Fires
　　Shall breath her balme. But first whom shall we send
　　In search of this new world, whom shall we find
　　Sufficient? who shall tempt with wandring feet
　　The dark unbottom'd infinite Abyss
　　And through the palpable obscure find out
　　His uncouth way, or spread his aerie flight
　　Upborn with indefatigable wings
　　Over the vast abrupt, ere he arrive
　　The happy Ile; what strength, what art can then 410
　　Suffice, or what evasion bear him safe
　　Through the strict Senteries and Stations thick
　　Of Angels watching round? Here he had need
　　All circumspection, and we now no less
　　Choice in our suffrage; for on whom we send,
　　The weight of all and our last hope relies.
　　This said, he sat; and expectation held
　　His look suspence, awaiting who appeer'd
　　To second, or oppose, or undertake
　　The perilous attempt: but all sat mute, 420
　　Pondering the danger with deep thoughts; and each
　　In others count'nance red his own dismay
　　Astonisht: none among the choice and prime
　　Of those Heav'n-warring Champions could be found
　　So hardie as to proffer or accept
　　Alone the dreadful voyage; till at last
　　Satan, whom now transcendent glory rais'd
　　Above his fellows, with Monarchal pride
　　Conscious of highest worth, unmov'd thus spake.
　　O Progeny of Heav'n, Empyreal Thrones, 430
　　With reason hath deep silence and demurr
　　Seis'd us, though undismaid: long is the way
　　And hard, that out of Hell leads up to Light;
　　Our prison strong, this huge convex of Fire,
　　Outrageous to devour, immures us round
　　Ninefold, and gates of burning Adamant
　　Barr'd over us prohibit all egress.
　　These past, if any pass, the void profound
　　Of unessential Night receives him next
　　Wide gaping, and with utter loss of being 440
　　Threatens him, plung'd in that abortive gulf.
　　If thence he scape into what ever world,
　　Or unknown Region, what remains him less
　　Then unknown dangers and as hard escape.
　　But I should ill become this Throne, O Peers,
　　And this Imperial Sov'ranty, adorn'd
　　With splendor, arm'd with power, if aught propos'd
　　And judg'd of public moment, in the shape
　　Of difficulty or danger could deterre
　　Me from attempting. Wherefore do I assume 450
　　These Royalties, and not refuse to Reign,
　　Refusing to accept as great a share
　　Of hazard as of honour, due alike
　　To him who Reigns, and so much to him due
　　Of hazard more, as he above the rest
　　High honourd sits? Go therfore mighty powers,
　　Terror of Heav'n, though fall'n; intend at home,
　　While here shall be our home, what best may ease
　　The present misery, and render Hell
　　More tollerable; if there be cure or charm 460
　　To respite or deceive, or slack the pain
　　Of this ill Mansion: intermit no watch
　　Against a wakeful Foe, while I abroad
　　Through all the coasts of dark destruction seek
　　Deliverance for us all: this enterprize
　　None shall partake with me. Thus saying rose
　　The Monarch, and prevented all reply,
　　Prudent, least from his resolution rais'd
　　Others among the chief might offer now
　　(Certain to be refus'd) what erst they feard; 470
　　And so refus'd might in opinion stand
　　His rivals, winning cheap the high repute
　　Which he through hazard huge must earn. But they
　　Dreaded not more th' adventure then his voice
　　Forbidding; and at once with him they rose;
　　Thir rising all at once was as the sound
　　Of Thunder heard remote. Towards him they bend
　　With awful reverence prone; and as a God
　　Extoll him equal to the highest in Heav'n:
　　Nor fail'd they to express how much they prais'd, 480
　　That for the general safety he despis'd
　　His own: for neither do the Spirits damn'd
　　Loose all thir vertue; least bad men should boast
　　Thir specious deeds on earth, which glory excites,
　　Or close ambition varnisht o're with zeal.
　　Thus they thir doubtful consultations dark
　　Ended rejoycing in thir matchless Chief:
　　As when from mountain tops the dusky clouds
　　Ascending, while the North wind sleeps, o'respread
　　Heav'ns chearful face, the lowring Element 490
　　Scowls ore the dark'nd lantskip Snow, or showre;
　　If chance the radiant Sun with farewell sweet
　　Extend his ev'ning beam, the fields revive,
　　The birds thir notes renew, and bleating herds
　　Attest thir joy, that hill and valley rings.
　　O shame to men! Devil with Devil damn'd
　　Firm concord holds, men onely disagree
　　Of Creatures rational, though under hope
　　Of heavenly Grace: and God proclaiming peace,
　　Yet live in hatred, enmitie, and strife 500
　　Among themselves, and levie cruel warres,
　　Wasting the Earth, each other to destroy:
　　As if (which might induce us to accord)
　　Man had not hellish foes anow besides,
　　That day and night for his destruction waite.
　　The Stygian Councel thus dissolv'd; and forth
　　In order came the grand infernal Peers,
　　Midst came thir mighty Paramount, and seemd
　　Alone th' Antagonist of Heav'n, nor less
　　Then Hells dread Emperour with pomp Supream, 510
　　And God-like imitated State; him round
　　A Globe of fierie Seraphim inclos'd
　　With bright imblazonrie, and horrent Arms.
　　Then of thir Session ended they bid cry
　　With Trumpets regal sound the great result:
　　Toward the four winds four speedy Cherubim
　　Put to thir mouths the sounding Alchymie
　　By Haralds voice explain'd: the hollow Abyss
　　Heard farr and wide, and all the host of Hell
　　With deafning shout, return'd them loud acclaim. 520
　　Thence more at ease thir minds and somwhat rais'd
　　By false presumptuous hope, the ranged powers
　　Disband, and wandring, each his several way
　　Pursues, as inclination or sad choice
　　Leads him perplext, where he may likeliest find
　　Truce to his restless thoughts, and entertain
　　The irksome hours, till his great Chief return.
　　Part on the Plain, or in the Air sublime
　　Upon the wing, or in swift race contend,
　　As at th' Olympian Games or Pythian fields; 530
　　Part curb thir fierie Steeds, or shun the Goal
　　With rapid wheels, or fronted Brigads form.
　　As when to warn proud Cities warr appears
　　Wag'd in the troubl'd Skie, and Armies rush
　　To Battel in the Clouds, before each Van
　　Pric forth the Aerie Knights, and couch thir spears
　　Till thickest Legions close; with feats of Arms
　　>From either end of Heav'n the welkin burns.
　　Others with vast Typhoean rage more fell
　　Rend up both Rocks and Hills, and ride the Air 540
　　In whirlwind; Hell scarce holds the wilde uproar.
　　As when Alcides from Oealia Crown'd
　　With conquest, felt th' envenom'd robe, and tore
　　Through pain up by the roots Thessalian Pines,
　　And Lichas from the top of Oeta threw
　　Into th' Euboic Sea. Others more milde,
　　Retreated in a silent valley, sing
　　With notes Angelical to many a Harp
　　Thir own Heroic deeds and hapless fall
　　By doom of Battel; and complain that Fate 550
　　Free Vertue should enthrall to Force or Chance.
　　Thir song was partial, but the harmony
　　(What could it less when Spirits immortal sing?)
　　Suspended Hell, and took with ravishment
　　The thronging audience. In discourse more sweet
　　(For Eloquence the Soul, Song charms the Sense,)
　　Others apart sat on a Hill retir'd,
　　In thoughts more elevate, and reason'd high
　　Of Providence, Foreknowledge, Will, and Fate,
　　Fixt Fate, free will, foreknowledge absolute, 560
　　And found no end, in wandring mazes lost.
　　Of good and evil much they argu'd then,
　　Of happiness and final misery,
　　Passion and Apathie, and glory and shame,
　　Vain wisdom all, and false Philosophie:
　　Yet with a pleasing sorcerie could charm
　　Pain for a while or anguish, and excite
　　Fallacious hope, or arm th' obdured brest
　　With stubborn patience as with triple steel.
　　Another part in Squadrons and gross Bands, 570
　　On bold adventure to discover wide
　　That dismal world, if any Clime perhaps
　　Might yeild them easier habitation, bend
　　Four ways thir flying March, along the Banks
　　Of four infernal Rivers that disgorge
　　Into the burning Lake thir baleful streams;
　　Abhorred Styx the flood of deadly hate,
　　Sad Acheron of sorrow, black and deep;
　　Cocytus, nam'd of lamentation loud
　　Heard on the ruful stream; fierce Phlegeton 580
　　Whose waves of torrent fire inflame with rage.
　　Farr off from these a slow and silent stream,
　　Lethe the River of Oblivion roules
　　Her watrie Labyrinth, whereof who drinks,
　　Forthwith his former state and being forgets,
　　Forgets both joy and grief, pleasure and pain.
　　Beyond this flood a frozen Continent
　　Lies dark and wilde, beat with perpetual storms
　　Of Whirlwind and dire Hail, which on firm land
　　Thaws not, but gathers heap, and ruin seems 590
　　Of ancient pile; all else deep snow and ice,
　　A gulf profound as that Serbonian Bog
　　Betwixt Damiata and mount Casius old,
　　Where Armies whole have sunk: the parching Air
　　Burns frore, and cold performs th' effect of Fire.
　　Thither by harpy-footed Furies hail'd,
　　At certain revolutions all the damn'd
　　Are brought: and feel by turns the bitter change
　　Of fierce extreams, extreams by change more fierce,
　　>From Beds of raging Fire to starve in Ice 600
　　Thir soft Ethereal warmth, and there to pine
　　Immovable, infixt, and frozen round,
　　Periods of time, thence hurried back to fire.
　　They ferry over this Lethean Sound
　　Both to and fro, thir sorrow to augment,
　　And wish and struggle, as they pass, to reach
　　The tempting stream, with one small drop to loose
　　In sweet forgetfulness all pain and woe,
　　All in one moment, and so neer the brink;
　　But fate withstands, and to oppose th' attempt 610
　　Medusa with Gorgonian terror guards
　　The Ford, and of it self the water flies
　　All taste of living wight, as once it fled
　　The lip of Tantalus. Thus roving on
　　In confus'd march forlorn, th' adventrous Bands
　　With shuddring horror pale, and eyes agast
　　View'd first thir lamentable lot, and found
　　No rest: through many a dark and drearie Vaile
　　They pass'd, and many a Region dolorous,
　　O're many a Frozen, many a Fierie Alpe, 620
　　Rocks, Caves, Lakes, Fens, Bogs, Dens, and shades of death,
　　A Universe of death, which God by curse
　　Created evil, for evil only good,
　　Where all life dies, death lives, and nature breeds,
　　Perverse, all monstrous, all prodigious things,
　　Abominable, inutterable, and worse
　　Then Fables yet have feign'd, or fear conceiv'd,
　　Gorgons and Hydra's, and Chimera's dire.
　　Mean while the Adversary of God and Man,
　　Satan with thoughts inflam'd of highest design, 630
　　Puts on swift wings, and toward the Gates of Hell
　　Explores his solitary flight; som times
　　He scours the right hand coast, som times the left,
　　Now shaves with level wing the Deep, then soares
　　Up to the fiery concave touring high.
　　As when farr off at Sea a Fleet descri'd
　　Hangs in the Clouds, by Aequinoctial Winds
　　Close sailing from Bengala, or the Iles
　　Of Ternate and Tidore, whence Merchants bring
　　Thir spicie Drugs: they on the trading Flood 640
　　Through the wide Ethiopian to the Cape
　　Ply stemming nightly toward the Pole. So seem'd
　　Farr off the flying Fiend: at last appeer
　　Hell bounds high reaching to the horrid Roof,
　　And thrice threefold the Gates; three folds were Brass
　　Three Iron, three of Adamantine Rock,
　　Impenitrable, impal'd with circling fire,
　　Yet unconsum'd. Before the Gates there sat
　　On either side a formidable shape;
　　The one seem'd Woman to the waste, and fair, 650
　　But ended foul in many a scaly fould
　　Voluminous and vast, a Serpent arm'd
　　With mortal sting: about her middle round
　　A cry of Hell Hounds never ceasing bark'd
　　With wide Cerberean mouths full loud, and rung
　　A hideous Peal: yet, when they list, would creep,
　　If aught disturb'd thir noyse, into her woomb,
　　And kennel there, yet there still bark'd and howl'd
　　Within unseen. Farr less abhorrd then these
　　Vex'd Scylla bathing in the Sea that parts 660
　　Calabria from the hoarce Trinacrian shore:
　　Nor uglier follow the Night-Hag, when call'd
　　In secret, riding through the Air she comes
　　Lur'd with the smell of infant blood, to dance
　　With Lapland Witches, while the labouring Moon
　　Eclipses at thir charms. The other shape,
　　If shape it might be call'd that shape had none
　　Distinguishable in member, joynt, or limb,
　　Or substance might be call'd that shadow seem'd,
　　For each seem'd either; black it stood as Night, 670
　　Fierce as ten Furies, terrible as Hell,
　　And shook a dreadful Dart; what seem'd his head
　　The likeness of a Kingly Crown had on.
　　Satan was now at hand, and from his seat
　　The Monster moving onward came as fast,
　　With horrid strides, Hell trembled as he strode.
　　Th' undaunted Fiend what this might be admir'd,
　　Admir'd, not fear'd; God and his Son except,
　　Created thing naught vallu'd he nor shun'd;
　　And with disdainful look thus first began. 680
　　Whence and what art thou, execrable shape,
　　That dar'st, though grim and terrible, advance
　　Thy miscreated Front athwart my way
　　To yonder Gates? through them I mean to pass,
　　That be assur'd, without leave askt of thee:
　　Retire, or taste thy folly, and learn by proof,
　　Hell-born, not to contend with Spirits of Heav'n.
　　To whom the Goblin full of wrauth reply'd,
　　Art thou that Traitor Angel, art thou hee,
　　Who first broke peace in Heav'n and Faith, till then 690
　　Unbrok'n, and in proud rebellious Arms
　　Drew after him the third part of Heav'ns Sons
　　Conjur'd against the highest, for which both Thou
　　And they outcast from God, are here condemn'd
　　To waste Eternal daies in woe and pain?
　　And reck'n'st thou thy self with Spirits of Heav'n,
　　Hell-doomd, and breath'st defiance here and scorn,
　　Where I reign King, and to enrage thee more,
　　Thy King and Lord? Back to thy punishment,
　　False fugitive, and to thy speed add wings, 700
　　Least with a whip of Scorpions I pursue
　　Thy lingring, or with one stroke of this Dart
　　Strange horror seise thee, and pangs unfelt before.
　　So spake the grieslie terrour, and in shape,
　　So speaking and so threatning, grew ten fold
　　More dreadful and deform: on th' other side
　　Incenc't with indignation Satan stood
　　Unterrifi'd, and like a Comet burn'd,
　　That fires the length of Ophiucus huge
　　In th' Artick Sky, and from his horrid hair 710
　　Shakes Pestilence and Warr. Each at the Head
　　Level'd his deadly aime; thir fatall hands
　　No second stroke intend, and such a frown
　　Each cast at th' other, as when two black Clouds
　　With Heav'ns Artillery fraught, come rattling on
　　Over the Caspian, then stand front to front
　　Hov'ring a space, till Winds the signal blow
　　To joyn thir dark Encounter in mid air:
　　So frownd the mighty Combatants, that Hell
　　Grew darker at thir frown, so matcht they stood; 720
　　For never but once more was either like
　　To meet so great a foe: and now great deeds
　　Had been achiev'd, whereof all Hell had rung,
　　Had not the Snakie Sorceress that sat
　　Fast by Hell Gate, and kept the fatal Key,
　　Ris'n, and with hideous outcry rush'd between.
　　O Father, what intends thy hand, she cry'd,
　　Against thy only Son? What fury O Son,
　　Possesses thee to bend that mortal Dart
　　Against thy Fathers head? and know'st for whom; 730
　　For him who sits above and laughs the while
　　At thee ordain'd his drudge, to execute
　　What e're his wrath, which he calls Justice, bids,
　　His wrath which one day will destroy ye both.
　　She spake, and at her words the hellish Pest
　　Forbore, then these to her Satan return'd:
　　So strange thy outcry, and thy words so strange
　　Thou interposest, that my sudden hand
　　Prevented spares to tell thee yet by deeds
　　What it intends; till first I know of thee, 740
　　What thing thou art, thus double-form'd, and why
　　In this infernal Vaile first met thou call'st
　　Me Father, and that Fantasm call'st my Son?
　　I know thee not, nor ever saw till now
　　Sight more detestable then him and thee.
　　T' whom thus the Portress of Hell Gate reply'd;
　　Hast thou forgot me then, and do I seem
　　Now in thine eye so foul, once deemd so fair
　　In Heav'n, when at th' Assembly, and in sight
　　Of all the Seraphim with thee combin'd 750
　　In bold conspiracy against Heav'ns King,
　　All on a sudden miserable pain
　　Surpris'd thee, dim thine eyes, and dizzie swumm
　　In darkness, while thy head flames thick and fast
　　Threw forth, till on the left side op'ning wide,
　　Likest to thee in shape and count'nance bright,
　　Then shining heav'nly fair, a Goddess arm'd
　　Out of thy head I sprung: amazement seis'd
　　All th' Host of Heav'n; back they recoild affraid
　　At first, and call'd me Sin, and for a Sign 760
　　Portentous held me; but familiar grown,
　　I pleas'd, and with attractive graces won
　　The most averse, thee chiefly, who full oft
　　Thy self in me thy perfect image viewing
　　Becam'st enamour'd, and such joy thou took'st
　　With me in secret, that my womb conceiv'd
　　A growing burden. Mean while Warr arose,
　　And fields were fought in Heav'n; wherein remaind
　　(For what could else) to our Almighty Foe
　　Cleer Victory, to our part loss and rout 770
　　Through all the Empyrean: down they fell
　　Driv'n headlong from the Pitch of Heaven, down
　　Into this Deep, and in the general fall
　　I also; at which time this powerful Key
　　Into my hand was giv'n, with charge to keep
　　These Gates for ever shut, which none can pass
　　Without my op'ning. Pensive here I sat
　　Alone, but long I sat not, till my womb
　　Pregnant by thee, and now excessive grown
　　Prodigious motion felt and rueful throes. 780
　　At last this odious offspring whom thou seest
　　Thine own begotten, breaking violent way
　　Tore through my entrails, that with fear and pain
　　Distorted, all my nether shape thus grew
　　Transform'd: but he my inbred enemie
　　Forth issu'd, brandishing his fatal Dart
　　Made to destroy: I fled, and cry'd out Death;
　　Hell trembl'd at the hideous Name, and sigh'd
　　>From all her Caves, and back resounded Death.
　　I fled, but he pursu'd (though more, it seems, 790
　　Inflam'd with lust then rage) and swifter far,
　　Me overtook his mother all dismaid,
　　And in embraces forcible and foule
　　Ingendring with me, of that rape begot
　　These yelling Monsters that with ceasless cry
　　Surround me, as thou sawst, hourly conceiv'd
　　And hourly born, with sorrow infinite
　　To me, for when they list into the womb
　　That bred them they return, and howle and gnaw
　　My Bowels, their repast; then bursting forth 800
　　Afresh with conscious terrours vex me round,
　　That rest or intermission none I find.
　　Before mine eyes in opposition sits
　　Grim Death my Son and foe, who sets them on,
　　And me his Parent would full soon devour
　　For want of other prey, but that he knows
　　His end with mine involvd; and knows that I
　　Should prove a bitter Morsel, and his bane,
　　When ever that shall be; so Fate pronounc'd.
　　But thou O Father, I forewarn thee, shun 810
　　His deadly arrow; neither vainly hope
　　To be invulnerable in those bright Arms,
　　Though temper'd heav'nly, for that mortal dint,
　　Save he who reigns above, none can resist.
　　She finish'd, and the suttle Fiend his lore
　　Soon learnd, now milder, and thus answerd smooth.
　　Dear Daughter, since thou claim'st me for thy Sire,
　　And my fair Son here showst me, the dear pledge
　　Of dalliance had with thee in Heav'n, and joys
　　Then sweet, now sad to mention, through dire change 820
　　Befalln us unforeseen, unthought of, know
　　I come no enemie, but to set free
　　>From out this dark and dismal house of pain,
　　Both him and thee, and all the heav'nly Host
　　Of Spirits that in our just pretenses arm'd
　　Fell with us from on high: from them I go
　　This uncouth errand sole, and one for all
　　My self expose, with lonely steps to tread
　　Th' unfounded deep, & through the void immense
　　To search with wandring quest a place foretold 830
　　Should be, and, by concurring signs, ere now
　　Created vast and round, a place of bliss
　　In the Pourlieues of Heav'n, and therein plac't
　　A race of upstart Creatures, to supply
　　Perhaps our vacant room, though more remov'd,
　　Least Heav'n surcharg'd with potent multitude
　　Might hap to move new broiles: Be this or aught
　　Then this more secret now design'd, I haste
　　To know, and this once known, shall soon return,
　　And bring ye to the place where Thou and Death 840
　　Shall dwell at ease, and up and down unseen
　　Wing silently the buxom Air, imbalm'd
　　With odours; there ye shall be fed and fill'd
　　Immeasurably, all things shall be your prey.
　　He ceas'd, for both seemd highly pleasd, and Death
　　Grinnd horrible a gastly smile, to hear
　　His famine should be fill'd, and blest his mawe
　　Destin'd to that good hour: no less rejoyc'd
　　His mother bad, and thus bespake her Sire.
　　The key of this infernal Pit by due, 850
　　And by command of Heav'ns all-powerful King
　　I keep, by him forbidden to unlock
　　These Adamantine Gates; against all force
　　Death ready stands to interpose his dart,
　　Fearless to be o'rematcht by living might.
　　But what ow I to his commands above
　　Who hates me, and hath hither thrust me down
　　Into this gloom of Tartarus profound,
　　To sit in hateful Office here confin'd,
　　Inhabitant of Heav'n, and heav'nlie-born, 860
　　Here in perpetual agonie and pain,
　　With terrors and with clamors compasst round
　　Of mine own brood, that on my bowels feed:
　　Thou art my Father, thou my Author, thou
　　My being gav'st me; whom should I obey
　　But thee, whom follow? thou wilt bring me soon
　　To that new world of light and bliss, among
　　The Gods who live at ease, where I shall Reign
　　At thy right hand voluptuous, as beseems
　　Thy daughter and thy darling, without end. 870
　　Thus saying, from her side the fatal Key,
　　Sad instrument of all our woe, she took;
　　And towards the Gate rouling her bestial train,
　　Forthwith the huge Portcullis high up drew,
　　Which but her self not all the Stygian powers
　　Could once have mov'd; then in the key-hole turns
　　Th' intricate wards, and every Bolt and Bar
　　Of massie Iron or sollid Rock with ease
　　Unfast'ns: on a sudden op'n flie
　　With impetuous recoile and jarring sound 880
　　Th' infernal dores, and on thir hinges great
　　Harsh Thunder, that the lowest bottom shook
　　Of Erebus. She op'nd, but to shut
　　Excel'd her power; the Gates wide op'n stood,
　　That with extended wings a Bannerd Host
　　Under spread Ensigns marching might pass through
　　With Horse and Chariots rankt in loose array;
　　So wide they stood, and like a Furnace mouth
　　Cast forth redounding smoak and ruddy flame.
　　Before thir eyes in sudden view appear 890
　　The secrets of the hoarie deep, a dark
　　Illimitable Ocean without bound,
　　Without dimension, where length, breadth, and highth,
　　And time and place are lost; where eldest Night
　　And Chaos, Ancestors of Nature, hold
　　Eternal Anarchie, amidst the noise
　　Of endless warrs and by confusion stand.
　　For hot, cold, moist, and dry, four Champions fierce
　　Strive here for Maistrie, and to Battel bring
　　Thir embryon Atoms; they around the flag 900
　　Of each his faction, in thir several Clanns,
　　Light-arm'd or heavy, sharp, smooth, swift or slow,
　　Swarm populous, unnumber'd as the Sands
　　Of Barca or Cyrene's torrid soil,
　　Levied to side with warring Winds, and poise
　　Thir lighter wings. To whom these most adhere,
　　Hee rules a moment; Chaos Umpire sits,
　　And by decision more imbroiles the fray
　　By which he Reigns: next him high Arbiter
　　Chance governs all. Into this wilde Abyss, 910
　　The Womb of nature and perhaps her Grave,
　　Of neither Sea, nor Shore, nor Air, nor Fire,
　　But all these in thir pregnant causes mixt
　　Confus'dly, and which thus must ever fight,
　　Unless th' Almighty Maker them ordain
　　His dark materials to create more Worlds,
　　Into this wilde Abyss the warie fiend
　　Stood on the brink of Hell and look'd a while,
　　Pondering his Voyage; for no narrow frith
　　He had to cross. Nor was his eare less peal'd 920
　　With noises loud and ruinous (to compare
　　Great things with small) then when Bellona storms,
　　With all her battering Engines bent to rase
　　Som Capital City, or less then if this frame
　　Of Heav'n were falling, and these Elements
　　In mutinie had from her Axle torn
　　The stedfast Earth. At last his Sail-broad Vannes
　　He spreads for flight, and in the surging smoak
　　Uplifted spurns the ground, thence many a League
　　As in a cloudy Chair ascending rides 930
　　Audacious, but that seat soon failing, meets
　　A vast vacuitie: all unawares
　　Fluttring his pennons vain plumb down he drops
　　Ten thousand fadom deep, and to this hour
　　Down had been falling, had not by ill chance
　　The strong rebuff of som tumultuous cloud
　　Instinct with Fire and Nitre hurried him
　　As many miles aloft: that furie stay'd,
　　Quencht in a Boggie Syrtis, neither Sea,
　　Nor good dry Land: nigh founderd on he fares, 940
　　Treading the crude consistence, half on foot,
　　Half flying; behoves him now both Oare and Saile.
　　As when a Gryfon through the Wilderness
　　With winged course ore Hill or moarie Dale,
　　Pursues the Arimaspian, who by stelth
　　Had from his wakeful custody purloind
　　The guarded Gold: So eagerly the fiend
　　Ore bog or steep, through strait, rough, dense, or rare,
　　With head, hands, wings, or feet pursues his way,
　　And swims or sinks, or wades, or creeps, or flyes: 950
　　At length a universal hubbub wilde
　　Of stunning sounds and voices all confus'd
　　Born through the hollow dark assaults his eare
　　With loudest vehemence: thither he plyes,
　　Undaunted to meet there what ever power
　　Or Spirit of the nethermost Abyss
　　Might in that noise reside, of whom to ask
　　Which way the neerest coast of darkness lyes
　　Bordering on light; when strait behold the Throne
　　Of Chaos, and his dark Pavilion spread 960
　　Wide on the wasteful Deep; with him Enthron'd
　　Sat Sable-vested Night, eldest of things,
　　The consort of his Reign; and by them stood
　　Orcus and Ades, and the dreaded name
　　Of Demogorgon; Rumor next and Chance,
　　And Tumult and Confusion all imbroild,
　　And Discord with a thousand various mouths.
　　T' whom Satan turning boldly, thus. Ye Powers
　　And Spirits of this nethermost Abyss,
　　Chaos and Ancient Night, I come no Spie, 970
　　With purpose to explore or to disturb
　　The secrets of your Realm, but by constraint
　　Wandring this darksome desart, as my way
　　Lies through your spacious Empire up to light,
　　Alone, and without guide, half lost, I seek
　　What readiest path leads where your gloomie bounds
　　Confine with Heav'n; or if som other place
　　>From your Dominion won, th' Ethereal King
　　Possesses lately, thither to arrive
　　I travel this profound, direct my course; 980
　　Directed, no mean recompence it brings
　　To your behoof, if I that Region lost,
　　All usurpation thence expell'd, reduce
　　To her original darkness and your sway
　　(Which is my present journey) and once more
　　Erect the Standerd there of Ancient Night;
　　Yours be th' advantage all, mine the revenge.
　　Thus Satan; and him thus the Anarch old
　　With faultring speech and visage incompos'd
　　Answer'd. I know thee, stranger, who thou art, 990
　　That mighty leading Angel, who of late
　　Made head against Heav'ns King, though overthrown.
　　I saw and heard, for such a numerous host
　　Fled not in silence through the frighted deep
　　With ruin upon ruin, rout on rout,
　　Confusion worse confounded; and Heav'n Gates
　　Pourd out by millions her victorious Bands
　　Pursuing. I upon my Frontieres here
　　Keep residence; if all I can will serve,
　　That little which is left so to defend 1000
　　Encroacht on still through our intestine broiles
　　Weakning the Scepter of old Night: first Hell
　　Your dungeon stretching far and wide beneath;
　　Now lately Heaven and Earth, another World
　　Hung ore my Realm, link'd in a golden Chain
　　To that side Heav'n from whence your Legions fell:
　　If that way be your walk, you have not farr;
　　So much the neerer danger; goe and speed;
　　Havock and spoil and ruin are my gain.
　　He ceas'd; and Satan staid not to reply, 1010
　　But glad that now his Sea should find a shore,
　　With fresh alacritie and force renew'd
　　Springs upward like a Pyramid of fire
　　Into the wilde expanse, and through the shock
　　Of fighting Elements, on all sides round
　　Environ'd wins his way; harder beset
　　And more endanger'd, then when Argo pass'd
　　Through Bosporus betwixt the justling Rocks:
　　Or when Ulysses on the Larbord shunnd
　　Charybdis, and by th' other whirlpool steard. 1020
　　So he with difficulty and labour hard
　　Mov'd on, with difficulty and labour hee;
　　But hee once past, soon after when man fell,
　　Strange alteration! Sin and Death amain
　　Following his track, such was the will of Heav'n,
　　Pav'd after him a broad and beat'n way
　　Over the dark Abyss, whose boiling Gulf
　　Tamely endur'd a Bridge of wondrous length
　　>From Hell continu'd reaching th' utmost Orbe
　　Of this frail World; by which the Spirits perverse 1030
　　With easie intercourse pass to and fro
　　To tempt or punish mortals, except whom
　　God and good Angels guard by special grace.
　　But now at last the sacred influence
　　Of light appears, and from the walls of Heav'n
　　Shoots farr into the bosom of dim Night
　　A glimmering dawn; here Nature first begins
　　Her fardest verge, and Chaos to retire
　　As from her outmost works a brok'n foe
　　With tumult less and with less hostile din, 1040
　　That Satan with less toil, and now with ease
　　Wafts on the calmer wave by dubious light
　　And like a weather-beaten Vessel holds
　　Gladly the Port, though Shrouds and Tackle torn;
　　Or in the emptier waste, resembling Air,
　　Weighs his spread wings, at leasure to behold
　　Farr off th' Empyreal Heav'n, extended wide
　　In circuit, undetermind square or round,
　　With Opal Towrs and Battlements adorn'd
　　Of living Saphire, once his native Seat; 1050
　　And fast by hanging in a golden Chain
　　This pendant world, in bigness as a Starr
　　Of smallest Magnitude close by the Moon.
　　Thither full fraught with mischievous revenge,
　　Accurst, and in a cursed hour he hies.
　　
　　Notes:
　　282 where] were 1674.
　　402 breath] misprint for breathe.
　　483 thir] her 1674.
　　527 his] this 1674.
　　542 Oealia] Oechalia 1674.
　　631 toward] towards 1674.
　　
　　The End Of The Second Book.
　　
　　
　　BOOK III.
　　
　　
　　THE ARGUMENT.
　　
　　God sitting on his Throne sees Satan flying towards this world,
　　then newly created; shews him to the Son who sat at his right
　　hand; foretells the success of Satan in perverting mankind;
　　clears his own Justice and Wisdom from all imputation, having
　　created Man free and able enough to have withstood his
　　Tempter; yet declares his purpose of grace towards him, in
　　regard he fell not of his own malice, as did Satan, but by him
　　seduc't. The Son of God renders praises to his father for the
　　manifestation of his gracious purpose towards Man; God again
　　declares, that Grace cannot be extended towards Man without
　　the satisfaction of divine Justice; Man hath offended the majesty
　　of God by aspiring to Godhead, and therefore with all his
　　progeny devoted to death must dye, unless some one can be
　　found sufficient to answer for his offence, and undergoe his
　　Punishment. The Son of God freely offers himself a Ransome
　　for Man: the Father accepts him, ordains his incarnation,
　　pronounces his exaltation above all in Heaven and Earth,
　　commands all the Angels to adore him; they obey, amid
　　hymning to their Harps in full Quire, celebrate the Father and
　　the Son.. Mean while Satan alights upon the bare convex of this
　　Worlds outermost Orb; where wandring he first finds a place
　　since call'd The Lymbo of Vanity, what persons and things fly
　　up thither; thence comes to the Gate of Heaven, describ'd
　　ascending by stairs and the waters above the Firmament that
　　flow about it: His passage thence to the Orb of the Sun; he finds
　　there Uriel the Regent of that Orb, but first changes himself into
　　the shape of a meaner Angel; and pretending a zealous desire to
　　behold the new Creation and Man whom God had plac't here,
　　inquires of him the place of his habitation, and is directed;
　　alights first on Mount Niphates.
　　
　　Hail holy light, ofspring of Heav'n first-born,
　　Or of th' Eternal Coeternal beam
　　May I express thee unblam'd? since God is light,
　　And never but in unapproached light
　　Dwelt from Eternitie, dwelt then in thee,
　　Bright effluence of bright essence increate.
　　Or hear'st thou rather pure Ethereal stream,
　　Whose Fountain who shall tell? before the Sun,
　　Before the Heavens thou wert, and at the voice
　　Of God, as with a Mantle didst invest 10
　　The rising world of waters dark and deep,
　　Won from the void and formless infinite.
　　Thee I re-visit now with bolder wing,
　　Escap't the Stygian Pool, though long detain'd
　　In that obscure sojourn, while in my flight
　　Through utter and through middle darkness borne
　　With other notes then to th' Orphean Lyre
　　I sung of Chaos and Eternal Night,
　　Taught by the heav'nly Muse to venture down
　　The dark descent, and up to reascend, 20
　　Though hard and rare: thee I revisit safe,
　　And feel thy sovran vital Lamp; but thou
　　Revisit'st not these eyes, that rowle in vain
　　To find thy piercing ray, and find no dawn;
　　So thick a drop serene hath quencht thir Orbs,
　　Or dim suffusion veild. Yet not the more
　　Cease I to wander where the Muses haunt
　　Cleer Spring, or shadie Grove, or Sunnie Hill,
　　Smit with the love of sacred song; but chief
　　Thee Sion and the flowrie Brooks beneath 30
　　That wash thy hallowd feet, and warbling flow,
　　Nightly I visit: nor somtimes forget
　　Those other two equal'd with me in Fate,
　　So were I equal'd with them in renown,
　　Blind Thamyris and blind Maeonides,
　　And Tiresias and Phineus Prophets old.
　　Then feed on thoughts, that voluntarie move
　　Harmonious numbers; as the wakeful Bird
　　Sings darkling, and in shadiest Covert hid
　　Tunes her nocturnal Note. Thus with the Year 40
　　Seasons return, but not to me returns
　　Day, or the sweet approach of Ev'n or Morn,
　　Or sight of vernal bloom, or Summers Rose,
　　Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine;
　　But cloud in stead, and ever-during dark
　　Surrounds me, from the chearful waies of men
　　Cut off, and for the book of knowledg fair
　　Presented with a Universal blanc
　　Of Natures works to mee expung'd and ras'd,
　　And wisdome at one entrance quite shut out. 50
　　So much the rather thou Celestial light
　　Shine inward, and the mind through all her powers
　　Irradiate, there plant eyes, all mist from thence
　　Purge and disperse, that I may see and tell
　　Of things invisible to mortal sight.
　　Now had the Almighty Father from above,
　　>From the pure Empyrean where he sits
　　High Thron'd above all highth, bent down his eye,
　　His own works and their works at once to view:
　　About him all the Sanctities of Heaven 60
　　Stood thick as Starrs, and from his sight receiv'd
　　Beatitude past utterance; on his right
　　The radiant image of his Glory sat,
　　His onely Son; On Earth he first beheld
　　Our two first Parents, yet the onely two
　　Of mankind, in the happie Garden plac't,
　　Reaping immortal fruits of joy and love,
　　Uninterrupted joy, unrivald love
　　In blissful solitude; he then survey'd
　　Hell and the Gulf between, and Satan there 70
　　Coasting the wall of Heav'n on this side Night
　　In the dun Air sublime, and ready now
　　To stoop with wearied wings, and willing feet
　　On the bare outside of this World, that seem'd
　　Firm land imbosom'd without Firmament,
　　Uncertain which, in Ocean or in Air.
　　Him God beholding from his prospect high,
　　Wherein past, present, future he beholds,
　　Thus to his onely Son foreseeing spake.
　　Onely begotten Son, seest thou what rage 80
　　Transports our adversarie, whom no bounds
　　Prescrib'd, no barrs of Hell, nor all the chains
　　Heapt on him there, nor yet the main Abyss
　　Wide interrupt can hold; so bent he seems
　　On desperat revenge, that shall redound
　　Upon his own rebellious head. And now
　　Through all restraint broke loose he wings his way
　　Not farr off Heav'n, in the Precincts of light,
　　Directly towards the new created World,
　　And Man there plac't, with purpose to assay 90
　　If him by force he can destroy, or worse,
　　By som false guile pervert; and shall pervert;
　　For man will heark'n to his glozing lyes,
　　And easily transgress the sole Command,
　　Sole pledge of his obedience: So will fall
　　Hee and his faithless Progenie: whose fault?
　　Whose but his own? ingrate, he had of mee
　　All he could have; I made him just and right,
　　Sufficient to have stood, though free to fall.
　　Such I created all th' Ethereal Powers 100
　　And Spirits, both them who stood & them who faild;
　　Freely they stood who stood, and fell who fell.
　　Not free, what proof could they have givn sincere
　　Of true allegiance, constant Faith or Love,
　　Where onely what they needs must do, appeard,
　　Not what they would? what praise could they receive?
　　What pleasure I from such obedience paid,
　　When Will and Reason (Reason also is choice)
　　Useless and vain, of freedom both despoild,
　　Made passive both, had servd necessitie, 110
　　Not mee. They therefore as to right belongd,
　　So were created, nor can justly accuse
　　Thir maker, or thir making, or thir Fate;
　　As if Predestination over-rul'd
　　Thir will, dispos'd by absolute Decree
　　Or high foreknowledge; they themselves decreed
　　Thir own revolt, not I: if I foreknew,
　　Foreknowledge had no influence on their fault,
　　Which had no less prov'd certain unforeknown.
　　So without least impulse or shadow of Fate, 120
　　Or aught by me immutablie foreseen,
　　They trespass, Authors to themselves in all
　　Both what they judge and what they choose; for so
　　I formd them free, and free they must remain,
　　Till they enthrall themselves: I else must change
　　Thir nature, and revoke the high Decree
　　Unchangeable, Eternal, which ordain'd
　　Thir freedom, they themselves ordain'd thir fall.
　　The first sort by thir own suggestion fell,
　　Self-tempted, self-deprav'd: Man falls deceiv'd 130
　　By the other first: Man therefore shall find grace,
　　The other none: in Mercy and Justice both,
　　Through Heav'n and Earth, so shall my glorie excel,
　　But Mercy first and last shall brightest shine.
　　Thus while God spake, ambrosial fragrance fill'd
　　All Heav'n, and in the blessed Spirits elect
　　Sense of new joy ineffable diffus'd:
　　Beyond compare the Son of God was seen
　　Most glorious, in him all his Father shon
　　Substantially express'd, and in his face 140
　　Divine compassion visibly appeerd,
　　Love without end, and without measure Grace,
　　Which uttering thus he to his Father spake.
　　O Father, gracious was that word which clos'd
　　Thy sovran sentence, that Man should find grace;
　　For which both Heav'n and Earth shall high extoll
　　Thy praises, with th' innumerable sound
　　Of Hymns and sacred Songs, wherewith thy Throne
　　Encompass'd shall resound thee ever blest.
　　For should Man finally be lost, should Man 150
　　Thy creature late so lov'd, thy youngest Son
　　Fall circumvented thus by fraud, though joynd
　　With his own folly? that be from thee farr,
　　That farr be from thee, Father, who art Judge
　　Of all things made, and judgest onely right.
　　Or shall the Adversarie thus obtain
　　His end, and frustrate thine, shall he fulfill
　　His malice, and thy goodness bring to naught,
　　Or proud return though to his heavier doom,
　　Yet with revenge accomplish't and to Hell 160
　　Draw after him the whole Race of mankind,
　　By him corrupted? or wilt thou thy self
　　Abolish thy Creation, and unmake,
　　For him, what for thy glorie thou hast made?
　　So should thy goodness and thy greatness both
　　Be questiond and blaspheam'd without defence.
　　To whom the great Creatour thus reply'd.
　　O Son, in whom my Soul hath chief delight,
　　Son of my bosom, Son who art alone
　　My word, my wisdom, and effectual might, 170
　　All hast thou spok'n as my thoughts are, all
　　As my Eternal purpose hath decreed:
　　Man shall not quite be lost, but sav'd who will,
　　Yet not of will in him, but grace in me
　　Freely voutsaft; once more I will renew
　　His lapsed powers, though forfeit and enthrall'd
　　By sin to foul exorbitant desires;
　　Upheld by me, yet once more he shall stand
　　On even ground against his mortal foe,
　　By me upheld, that he may know how frail 180
　　His fall'n condition is, and to me ow
　　All his deliv'rance, and to none but me.
　　Some I have chosen of peculiar grace
　　Elect above the rest; so is my will:
　　The rest shall hear me call, and oft be warnd
　　Thir sinful state, and to appease betimes
　　Th' incensed Deitie, while offerd grace
　　Invites; for I will cleer thir senses dark,
　　What may suffice, and soft'n stonie hearts
　　To pray, repent, and bring obedience due. 190
　　To prayer, repentance, and obedience due,
　　Though but endevord with sincere intent,
　　Mine eare shall not be slow, mine eye not shut.
　　And I will place within them as a guide
　　My Umpire Conscience, whom if they will hear,
　　Light after light well us'd they shall attain,
　　And to the end persisting, safe arrive.
　　This my long sufferance and my day of grace
　　They who neglect and scorn, shall never taste;
　　But hard be hard'nd, blind be blinded more, 200
　　That they may stumble on, and deeper fall;
　　And none but such from mercy I exclude.
　　But yet all is not don; Man disobeying,
　　Disloyal breaks his fealtie, and sinns
　　Against the high Supremacie of Heav'n,
　　Affecting God-head, and so loosing all,
　　To expiate his Treason hath naught left,
　　But to destruction sacred and devote,
　　He with his whole posteritie must die,
　　Die hee or Justice must; unless for him 210
　　Som other able, and as willing, pay
　　The rigid satisfaction, death for death.
　　Say Heav'nly Powers, where shall we find such love,
　　Which of ye will be mortal to redeem
　　Mans mortal crime, and just th' unjust to save,
　　Dwels in all Heaven charitie so deare?
　　He ask'd, but all the Heav'nly Quire stood mute,
　　And silence was in Heav'n: on mans behalf
　　Patron or Intercessor none appeerd,
　　Much less that durst upon his own head draw 220
　　The deadly forfeiture, and ransom set.
　　And now without redemption all mankind
　　Must have bin lost, adjudg'd to Death and Hell
　　By doom severe, had not the Son of God,
　　In whom the fulness dwels of love divine,
　　His dearest mediation thus renewd.
　　Father, thy word is past, man shall find grace;
　　And shall grace not find means, that finds her way,
　　The speediest of thy winged messengers,
　　To visit all thy creatures, and to all 230
　　Comes unprevented, unimplor'd, unsought,
　　Happie for man, so coming; he her aide
　　Can never seek, once dead in sins and lost;
　　Attonement for himself or offering meet,
　　Indebted and undon, hath none to bring:
　　Behold mee then, mee for him, life for life
　　I offer, on mee let thine anger fall;
　　Account mee man; I for his sake will leave
　　Thy bosom, and this glorie next to thee
　　Freely put off, and for him lastly die 240
　　Well pleas'd, on me let Death wreck all his rage;
　　Under his gloomie power I shall not long
　　Lie vanquisht; thou hast givn me to possess
　　Life in my self for ever, by thee I live,
　　Though now to Death I yeild, and am his due
　　All that of me can die, yet that debt paid,
　　Thou wilt not leave me in the loathsom grave
　　His prey, nor suffer my unspotted Soule
　　For ever with corruption there to dwell;
　　But I shall rise Victorious, and subdue 250
　　My Vanquisher, spoild of his vanted spoile;
　　Death his deaths wound shall then receive, & stoop
　　Inglorious, of his mortall sting disarm'd.
　　I through the ample Air in Triumph high
　　Shall lead Hell Captive maugre Hell, and show
　　The powers of darkness bound. Thou at the sight
　　Pleas'd, out of Heaven shalt look down and smile,
　　While by thee rais'd I ruin all my Foes,
　　Death last, and with his Carcass glut the Grave:
　　Then with the multitude of my redeemd 260
　　Shall enter Heaven long absent, and returne,
　　Father, to see thy face, wherein no cloud
　　Of anger shall remain, but peace assur'd,
　　And reconcilement; wrauth shall be no more
　　Thenceforth, but in thy presence Joy entire.
　　His words here ended, but his meek aspect
　　Silent yet spake, and breath'd immortal love
　　To mortal men, above which only shon
　　Filial obedience: as a sacrifice
　　Glad to be offer'd, he attends the will 270
　　Of his great Father. Admiration seis'd
　　All Heav'n, what this might mean, & whither tend
　　Wondring; but soon th' Almighty thus reply'd:
　　O thou in Heav'n and Earth the only peace
　　Found out for mankind under wrauth, O thou
　　My sole complacence! well thou know'st how dear,
　　To me are all my works, nor Man the least
　　Though last created, that for him I spare
　　Thee from my bosom and right hand, to save,
　　By loosing thee a while, the whole Race lost. 280
　　Thou therefore whom thou only canst redeeme,
　　Thir Nature also to thy Nature joyne;
　　And be thy self Man among men on Earth,
　　Made flesh, when time shall be, of Virgin seed,
　　By wondrous birth: Be thou in Adams room
　　The Head of all mankind, though Adams Son.
　　As in him perish all men, so in thee
　　As from a second root shall be restor'd,
　　As many as are restor'd, without thee none.
　　His crime makes guiltie all his Sons, thy merit 290
　　Imputed shall absolve them who renounce
　　Thir own both righteous and unrighteous deeds,
　　And live in thee transplanted, and from thee
　　Receive new life. So Man, as is most just,
　　Shall satisfie for Man, be judg'd and die,
　　And dying rise, and rising with him raise
　　His Brethren, ransomd with his own dear life.
　　So Heav'nly love shal outdoo Hellish hate,
　　Giving to death, and dying to redeeme,
　　So dearly to redeem what Hellish hate 300
　　So easily destroy'd, and still destroyes
　　In those who, when they may, accept not grace.
　　Nor shalt thou by descending to assume
　　Mans Nature, less'n or degrade thine owne.
　　Because thou hast, though Thron'd in highest bliss
　　Equal to God, and equally enjoying
　　God-like fruition, quitted all to save
　　A World from utter loss, and hast been found
　　By Merit more then Birthright Son of God,
　　Found worthiest to be so by being Good, 310
　　Farr more then Great or High; because in thee
　　Love hath abounded more then Glory abounds,
　　Therefore thy Humiliation shall exalt
　　With thee thy Manhood also to this Throne;
　　Here shalt thou sit incarnate, here shalt Reigne
　　Both God and Man, Son both of God and Man,
　　Anointed universal King; all Power
　　I give thee, reign for ever, and assume
　　Thy Merits; under thee as Head Supream
　　Thrones, Princedoms, Powers, Dominions I reduce: 320
　　All knees to thee shall bow, of them that bide
　　In Heaven, or Earth, or under Earth in Hell;
　　When thou attended gloriously from Heav'n
　　Shalt in the Skie appeer, and from thee send
　　The summoning Arch-Angels to proclaime
　　Thy dread Tribunal: forthwith from all Windes
　　The living, and forthwith the cited dead
　　Of all past Ages to the general Doom
　　Shall hast'n, such a peal shall rouse thir sleep.
　　Then all thy Saints assembl'd, thou shalt judge 330
　　Bad men and Angels, they arraignd shall sink
　　Beneath thy Sentence; Hell, her numbers full,
　　Thenceforth shall be for ever shut. Mean while
　　The World shall burn, and from her ashes spring
　　New Heav'n and Earth, wherein the just shall dwell
　　And after all thir tribulations long
　　See golden days, fruitful of golden deeds,
　　With Joy and Love triumphing, and fair Truth.
　　Then thou thy regal Scepter shalt lay by,
　　For regal Scepter then no more shall need, 340
　　God shall be All in All. But all ye Gods,
　　Adore him, who to compass all this dies,
　　Adore the Son, and honour him as mee.
　　No sooner had th' Almighty ceas't, but all
　　The multitude of Angels with a shout
　　Loud as from numbers without number, sweet
　　As from blest voices, uttering joy, Heav'n rung
　　With Jubilee, and loud Hosanna's fill'd
　　Th' eternal Regions: lowly reverent
　　Towards either Throne they bow, & to the ground 350
　　With solemn adoration down they cast
　　Thir Crowns inwove with Amarant and Gold,
　　Immortal Amarant, a Flour which once
　　In Paradise, fast by the Tree of Life
　　Began to bloom, but soon for mans offence
　　To Heav'n remov'd where first it grew, there grows,
　　And flours aloft shading the Fount of Life,
　　And where the river of Bliss through midst of Heavn
　　Rowls o're Elisian Flours her Amber stream;
　　With these that never fade the Spirits Elect 360
　　Bind thir resplendent locks inwreath'd with beams,
　　Now in loose Garlands thick thrown off, the bright
　　Pavement that like a Sea of Jasper shon
　　Impurpl'd with Celestial Roses smil'd.
　　Then Crown'd again thir gold'n Harps they took,
　　Harps ever tun'd, that glittering by their side
　　Like Quivers hung, and with Praeamble sweet
　　Of charming symphonie they introduce
　　Thir sacred Song, and waken raptures high;
　　No voice exempt, no voice but well could joine 370
　　Melodious part, such concord is in Heav'n.
　　Thee Father first they sung Omnipotent,
　　Immutable, Immortal, Infinite,
　　Eternal King; thee Author of all being,
　　Fountain of Light, thy self invisible
　　Amidst the glorious brightness where thou sit'st
　　Thron'd inaccessible, but when thou shad'st
　　The full blaze of thy beams, and through a cloud
　　Drawn round about thee like a radiant Shrine,
　　Dark with excessive bright thy skirts appeer, 380
　　Yet dazle Heav'n, that brightest Seraphim
　　Approach not, but with both wings veil thir eyes.
　　Thee next they sang of all Creation first,
　　Begotten Son, Divine Similitude,
　　In whose conspicuous count'nance, without cloud
　　Made visible, th' Almighty Father shines,
　　Whom else no Creature can behold; on thee
　　Impresst the effulgence of his Glorie abides,
　　Transfus'd on thee his ample Spirit rests.
　　Hee Heav'n of Heavens and all the Powers therein 390
　　By thee created, and by thee threw down
　　Th' aspiring Dominations: thou that day
　　Thy Fathers dreadful Thunder didst not spare,
　　Nor stop thy flaming Chariot wheels, that shook
　　Heav'ns everlasting Frame, while o're the necks
　　Thou drov'st of warring Angels disarraid.
　　Back from pursuit thy Powers with loud acclaime
　　Thee only extold, Son of thy Fathers might,
　　To execute fierce vengeance on his foes,
　　Not so on Man; him through their malice fall'n, 400
　　Father of Mercie and Grace, thou didst not doome
　　So strictly, but much more to pitie encline:
　　No sooner did thy dear and onely Son
　　Perceive thee purpos'd not to doom frail Man
　　So strictly, but much more to pitie enclin'd,
　　He to appease thy wrauth, and end the strife
　　Of Mercy and Justice in thy face discern'd,
　　Regardless of the Bliss wherein hee sat
　　Second to thee, offerd himself to die
　　For mans offence. O unexampl'd love, 410
　　Love no where to be found less then Divine!
　　Hail Son of God, Saviour of Men, thy Name
　　Shall be the copious matter of my Song
　　Henceforth, and never shall my Harp thy praise
　　Forget, nor from thy Fathers praise disjoine.
　　Thus they in Heav'n, above the starry Sphear,
　　Thir happie hours in joy and hymning spent.
　　Mean while upon the firm opacous Globe
　　Of this round World, whose first convex divides
　　The luminous inferior Orbs, enclos'd 420
　　>From Chaos and th' inroad of Darkness old,
　　Satan alighted walks: a Globe farr off
　　It seem'd, now seems a boundless Continent
　　Dark, waste, and wild, under the frown of Night
　　Starless expos'd, and ever-threatning storms
　　Of Chaos blustring round, inclement skie;
　　Save on that side which from the wall of Heav'n
　　Though distant farr som small reflection gaines
　　Of glimmering air less vext with tempest loud:
　　Here walk'd the Fiend at large in spacious field. 430
　　As when a Vultur on Imaus bred,
　　Whose snowie ridge the roving Tartar bounds,
　　Dislodging from a Region scarce of prey
　　To gorge the flesh of Lambs or yeanling Kids
　　On Hills where Flocks are fed, flies toward the Springs
　　Of Ganges or Hydaspes, Indian streams;
　　But in his way lights on the barren plaines
　　Of Sericana, where Chineses drive
　　With Sails and Wind thir canie Waggons light:
　　So on this windie Sea of Land, the Fiend 440
　　Walk'd up and down alone bent on his prey,
　　Alone, for other Creature in this place
　　Living or liveless to be found was none,
　　None yet, but store hereafter from the earth
　　Up hither like Aereal vapours flew
　　Of all things transitorie and vain, when Sin
　　With vanity had filld the works of men:
　　Both all things vain, and all who in vain things
　　Built thir fond hopes of Glorie or lasting fame,
　　Or happiness in this or th' other life; 450
　　All who have thir reward on Earth, the fruits
　　Of painful Superstition and blind Zeal,
　　Naught seeking but the praise of men, here find
　　Fit retribution, emptie as thir deeds;
　　All th' unaccomplisht works of Natures hand,
　　Abortive, monstrous, or unkindly mixt,
　　Dissolvd on earth, fleet hither, and in vain,
　　Till final dissolution, wander here,
　　Not in the neighbouring Moon, as some have dreamd;
　　Those argent Fields more likely habitants, 460
　　Translated Saints, or middle Spirits hold
　　Betwixt th' Angelical and Human kinde:
　　Hither of ill-joynd Sons and Daughters born
　　First from the ancient World those Giants came
　　With many a vain exploit, though then renownd:
　　The builders next of Babel on the Plain
　　Of Sennaar, and still with vain designe
　　New Babels, had they wherewithall, would build:
　　Others came single; hee who to be deemd
　　A God, leap'd fondly into Aetna flames, 470
　　Empedocles, and hee who to enjoy
　　Plato's Elysium, leap'd into the Sea,
　　Cleombrotus, and many more too long,
　　Embryo's and Idiots, Eremits and Friers
　　White, Black and Grey, with all thir trumperie.
　　Here Pilgrims roam, that stray'd so farr to seek
　　In Golgotha him dead, who lives in Heav'n;
　　And they who to be sure of Paradise
　　Dying put on the weeds of Dominic,
　　Or in Franciscan think to pass disguis'd; 480
　　They pass the Planets seven, and pass the fixt,
　　And that Crystalline Sphear whose ballance weighs
　　The Trepidation talkt, and that first mov'd;
　　And now Saint Peter at Heav'ns Wicket seems
　　To wait them with his Keys, and now at foot
　　Of Heav'ns ascent they lift thir Feet, when loe
　　A violent cross wind from either Coast
　　Blows them transverse ten thousand Leagues awry
　　Into the devious Air; then might ye see
　　Cowles, Hoods and Habits with thir wearers tost 490
　　And flutterd into Raggs, then Reliques, Beads,
　　Indulgences, Dispenses, Pardons, Bulls,
　　The sport of Winds: all these upwhirld aloft
　　Fly o're the backside of the World farr off
　　Into a Limbo large and broad, since calld
　　The Paradise of Fools, to few unknown
　　Long after, now unpeopl'd, and untrod;
　　All this dark Globe the Fiend found as he pass'd,
　　And long he wanderd, till at last a gleame
　　Of dawning light turnd thither-ward in haste 500
　　His travell'd steps; farr distant hee descries
　　Ascending by degrees magnificent
　　Up to the wall of Heaven a Structure high,
　　At top whereof, but farr more rich appeerd
　　The work as of a Kingly Palace Gate
　　With Frontispice of Diamond and Gold
　　Imbellisht, thick with sparkling orient Gemmes
　　The Portal shon, inimitable on Earth
　　By Model, or by shading Pencil drawn.
　　The Stairs were such as whereon Jacob saw 510
　　Angels ascending and descending, bands
　　Of Guardians bright, when he from Esau fled
　　To Padan-aram in the field of Luz,
　　Dreaming by night under the open Skie,
　　And waking cri'd, This is the Gate of Heav'n.
　　Each Stair mysteriously was meant, nor stood
　　There alwaies, but drawn up to Heav'n somtimes
　　Viewless, and underneath a bright Sea flow'd
　　Of Jasper, or of liquid Pearle, whereon
　　Who after came from Earth, sayling arriv'd, 520
　　Wafted by Angels, or flew o're the Lake
　　Rapt in a Chariot drawn by fiery Steeds.
　　The Stairs were then let down, whether to dare
　　The Fiend by easie ascent, or aggravate
　　His sad exclusion from the dores of Bliss.
　　Direct against which op'nd from beneath,
　　Just o're the blissful seat of Paradise,
　　A passage down to th' Earth, a passage wide,
　　Wider by farr then that of after-times
　　Over Mount Sion, and, though that were large, 530
　　Over the Promis'd Land to God so dear,
　　By which, to visit oft those happy Tribes,
　　On high behests his Angels to and fro
　　Pass'd frequent, and his eye with choice regard
　　>From Paneas the fount of Jordans flood
　　To Beersaba, where the Holy Land
　　Borders on Aegypt and the Arabian shoare;
　　So wide the op'ning seemd, where bounds were set
　　To darkness, such as bound the Ocean wave.
　　Satan from hence now on the lower stair 540
　　That scal'd by steps of Gold to Heav'n Gate
　　Looks down with wonder at the sudden view
　　Of all this World at once. As when a Scout
　　Through dark and desart wayes with peril gone
　　All night; at last by break of chearful dawne
　　Obtains the brow of some high-climbing Hill,
　　Which to his eye discovers unaware
　　The goodly prospect of some forein land
　　First-seen, or some renownd Metropolis
　　With glistering Spires and Pinnacles adornd, 550
　　Which now the Rising Sun guilds with his beams.
　　Such wonder seis'd, though after Heaven seen,
　　The Spirit maligne, but much more envy seis'd
　　At sight of all this World beheld so faire.
　　Round he surveys, and well might, where he stood
　　So high above the circling Canopie
　　Of Nights extended shade; from Eastern Point
　　Of Libra to the fleecie Starr that bears
　　Andromeda farr off Atlantick Seas
　　Beyond th' Horizon; then from Pole to Pole 560
　　He views in bredth, and without longer pause
　　Down right into the Worlds first Region throws
　　His flight precipitant, and windes with ease
　　Through the pure marble Air his oblique way
　　Amongst innumerable Starrs, that shon
　　Stars distant, but nigh hand seemd other Worlds,
　　Or other Worlds they seemd, or happy Iles,
　　Like those Hesperian Gardens fam'd of old,
　　Fortunate Fields, and Groves and flourie Vales,
　　Thrice happy Iles, but who dwelt happy there 570
　　He stayd not to enquire: above them all
　　The golden Sun in splendor likest Heaven
　　Allur'd his eye: Thither his course he bends
　　Through the calm Firmament; but up or downe
　　By center, or eccentric, hard to tell,
　　Or Longitude, where the great Luminarie
　　Alooff the vulgar Constellations thick,
　　That from his Lordly eye keep distance due,
　　Dispenses Light from farr; they as they move
　　Thir Starry dance in numbers that compute 580
　　Days, months, and years, towards his all-chearing Lamp
　　Turn swift their various motions, or are turnd
　　By his Magnetic beam, that gently warms
　　The Univers, and to each inward part
　　With gentle penetration, though unseen,
　　Shoots invisible vertue even to the deep:
　　So wondrously was set his Station bright.
　　There lands the Fiend, a spot like which perhaps
　　Astronomer in the Sun's lucent Orbe
　　Through his glaz'd Optic Tube yet never saw. 590
　　The place he found beyond expression bright,
　　Compar'd with aught on Earth, Medal or Stone;
　　Not all parts like, but all alike informd
　　Which radiant light, as glowing Iron with fire;
　　If mettal, part seemd Gold, part Silver cleer;
　　If stone, Carbuncle most or Chrysolite,
　　Rubie or Topaz, to the Twelve that shon
　　In Aarons Brest-plate, and a stone besides
　　Imagind rather oft then elsewhere seen,
　　That stone, or like to that which here below 600
　　Philosophers in vain so long have sought,
　　In vain, though by thir powerful Art they binde
　　Volatil Hermes, and call up unbound
　　In various shapes old Proteus from the Sea,
　　Draind through a Limbec to his Native forme.
　　What wonder then if fields and regions here
　　Breathe forth Elixir pure, and Rivers run
　　Potable Gold, when with one vertuous touch
　　Th' Arch-chimic Sun so farr from us remote
　　Produces with Terrestrial Humor mixt 610
　　Here in the dark so many precious things
　　Of colour glorious and effect so rare?
　　Here matter new to gaze the Devil met
　　Undazl'd, farr and wide his eye commands,
　　For sight no obstacle found here, nor shade,
　　But all Sun-shine, as when his Beams at Noon
　　Culminate from th' Aequator, as they now
　　Shot upward still direct, whence no way round
　　Shadow from body opaque can fall, and the Aire,
　　No where so cleer, sharp'nd his visual ray 620
　　To objects distant farr, whereby he soon
　　Saw within kenn a glorious Angel stand,
　　The same whom John saw also in the Sun:
　　His back was turnd, but not his brightness hid;
　　Of beaming sunnie Raies, a golden tiar
　　Circl'd his Head, nor less his Locks behind
　　Illustrious on his Shoulders fledge with wings
　　Lay waving round; on som great charge imploy'd
　　Hee seemd, or fixt in cogitation deep.
　　Glad was the Spirit impure as now in hope 630
　　To find who might direct his wandring flight
　　To Paradise the happie seat of Man,
　　His journies end and our beginning woe.
　　But first he casts to change his proper shape,
　　Which else might work him danger or delay:
　　And now a stripling Cherube he appeers,
　　Not of the prime, yet such as in his face
　　Youth smil'd Celestial, and to every Limb
　　Sutable grace diffus'd, so well he feignd;
　　Under a Coronet his flowing haire 640
　　In curles on either cheek plaid, wings he wore
　　Of many a colourd plume sprinkl'd with Gold,
　　His habit fit for speed succinct, and held
　　Before his decent steps a Silver wand.
　　He drew not nigh unheard, the Angel bright,
　　Ere he drew nigh, his radiant visage turnd,
　　Admonisht by his eare, and strait was known
　　Th' Arch-Angel Uriel, one of the seav'n
　　Who in Gods presence, neerest to his Throne
　　Stand ready at command, and are his Eyes 650
　　That run through all the Heav'ns, or down to th' Earth
　　Bear his swift errands over moist and dry,
　　O're Sea and Land: him Satan thus accostes;
　　Uriel, for thou of those seav'n Spirits that stand
　　In sight of God's high Throne, gloriously bright,
　　The first art wont his great authentic will
　　Interpreter through highest Heav'n to bring,
　　Where all his Sons thy Embassie attend;
　　And here art likeliest by supream decree
　　Like honour to obtain, and as his Eye 660
　　To visit oft this new Creation round;
　　Unspeakable desire to see, and know
　　All these his wondrous works, but chiefly Man,
　　His chief delight and favour, him for whom
　　All these his works so wondrous he ordaind,
　　Hath brought me from the Quires of Cherubim
　　Alone thus wandring. Brightest Seraph tell
　　In which of all these shining Orbes hath Man
　　His fixed seat, or fixed seat hath none,
　　But all these shining Orbes his choice to dwell; 670
　　That I may find him, and with secret gaze,
　　Or open admiration him behold
　　On whom the great Creator hath bestowd
　　Worlds, and on whom hath all these graces powrd;
　　That both in him and all things, as is meet,
　　The Universal Maker we may praise;
　　Who justly hath drivn out his Rebell Foes
　　To deepest Hell, and to repair that loss
　　Created this new happie Race of Men
　　To serve him better: wise are all his wayes. 680
　　So spake the false dissembler unperceivd;
　　For neither Man nor Angel can discern
　　Hypocrisie, the only evil that walks
　　Invisible, except to God alone,
　　By his permissive will, through Heav'n and Earth:
　　And oft though wisdom wake, suspicion sleeps
　　At wisdoms Gate, and to simplicitie
　　Resigns her charge, while goodness thinks no ill
　　Where no ill seems: Which now for once beguil'd
　　Uriel, though Regent of the Sun, and held 690
　　The sharpest sighted Spirit of all in Heav'n;
　　Who to the fraudulent Impostor foule
　　In his uprightness answer thus returnd.
　　Faire Angel, thy desire which tends to know
　　The works of God, thereby to glorifie
　　The great Work-Maister, leads to no excess
　　That reaches blame, but rather merits praise
　　The more it seems excess, that led thee hither
　　>From thy Empyreal Mansion thus alone,
　　To witness with thine eyes what some perhaps 700
　　Contented with report heare onely in heav'n:
　　For wonderful indeed are all his works,
　　Pleasant to know, and worthiest to be all
　　Had in remembrance alwayes with delight;
　　But what created mind can comprehend
　　Thir number, or the wisdom infinite
　　That brought them forth, but hid thir causes deep.
　　I saw when at his Word the formless Mass,
　　This worlds material mould, came to a heap:
　　Confusion heard his voice, and wilde uproar 710
　　Stood rul'd, stood vast infinitude confin'd;
　　Till at his second bidding darkness fled,
　　Light shon, and order from disorder sprung:
　　Swift to thir several Quarters hasted then
　　The cumbrous Elements, Earth, Flood, Aire, Fire,
　　And this Ethereal quintessence of Heav'n
　　Flew upward, spirited with various forms,
　　That rowld orbicular, and turnd to Starrs
　　Numberless, as thou seest, and how they move;
　　Each had his place appointed, each his course, 720
　　The rest in circuit walles this Universe.
　　Look downward on that Globe whose hither side
　　With light from hence, though but reflected, shines;
　　That place is Earth the seat of Man, that light
　　His day, which else as th' other Hemisphere
　　Night would invade, but there the neighbouring Moon
　　(So call that opposite fair Starr) her aide
　　Timely interposes, and her monthly round
　　Still ending, still renewing, through mid Heav'n;
　　With borrowd light her countenance triform 730
　　Hence fills and empties to enlighten th' Earth,
　　And in her pale dominion checks the night.
　　That spot to which I point is Paradise,
　　Adams abode, those loftie shades his Bowre.
　　Thy way thou canst not miss, me mine requires.
　　Thus said, he turnd, and Satan bowing low,
　　As to superior Spirits is wont in Heaven,
　　Where honour due and reverence none neglects,
　　Took leave, and toward the coast of Earth beneath,
　　Down from th' Ecliptic, sped with hop'd success, 740
　　Throws his steep flight with many an Aerie wheele,
　　Nor staid, till on Niphates top he lights.
　　
　　The End Of The Third Book.
　　
　　
　　
　　BOOK IV.
　　
　　
　　THE ARGUMENT.
　　
　　Satan now in prospect of Eden, and nigh the place where he
　　must now attempt the bold enterprize which he undertook alone
　　against God and Man, falls into many doubts with himself, and
　　many passions, fear, envy, and despare; but at length confirms
　　himself in evil, journeys on to Paradise, whose outward
　　prospect and scituation is described, overleaps the bounds, sits
　　in the shape of a Cormorant on the tree of life, as highest in the
　　Garden to look about him. The Garden describ'd; Satans first
　　sight of Adam and Eve; his wonder at thir excellent form and
　　happy state but with resolution to work thir fall; overhears thir
　　discourse, thence gathers that the Tree of knowledge was
　　forbidden them to eat of, under penalty of death; and thereon
　　intends to found his temptation, by seducing them to transgress:
　　then leaves them a while. to know further of thir state by some
　　other means. Mean while Uriel descending on a Sun-beam
　　warns Gabriel, who had in charge the Gate of Paradise, that
　　some evil spirit had escap'd the Deep, and past at Noon by his
　　Sphere in the shape of a good Angel down to Paradise,
　　discovered after by his furious gestures in the Mount. Gabriel
　　promises to find him out ere morning. Night coming on, Adam
　　and Eve discourse of going to thir rest: thir Bower describ'd;
　　thir Evening worship. Gabriel drawing forth his Bands of Night-
　　watch to walk the round of Paradise, appoints two strong
　　Angels to Adams Bower, least the evill spirit should be there
　　doing some harm to Adam or Eve sleeping; there they find him
　　at the ear of Eve, tempting her in a dream, and bring him,
　　though unwilling, to Gabriel; by whom question'd. he scornfully
　　answers, prepares resistance, but hinder'd by a Sign from
　　Heaven, flies out of Paradise.
　　
　　O For that warning voice, which he who saw
　　Th' Apocalyps, heard cry in Heaven aloud,
　　Then when the Dragon, put to second rout,
　　Came furious down to be reveng'd on men,
　　Wo To The Inhabitants On Earth! that now,
　　While time was, our first Parents had bin warnd
　　The coming of thir secret foe, and scap'd
　　Haply so scap'd his mortal snare; for now
　　Satan, now first inflam'd with rage, came down,
　　The Tempter ere th' Accuser of man-kind, 10
　　To wreck on innocent frail man his loss
　　Of that first Battel, and his flight to Hell:
　　Yet not rejoycing in his speed, though bold,
　　Far off and fearless, nor with cause to boast,
　　Begins his dire attempt, which nigh the birth
　　Now rowling, boiles in his tumultuous brest,
　　And like a devillish Engine back recoiles
　　Upon himself; horror and doubt distract
　　His troubl'd thoughts, and from the bottom stirr
　　The Hell within him, for within him Hell 20
　　He brings, and round about him, nor from Hell
　　One step no more then from himself can fly
　　By change of place: Now conscience wakes despair
　　That slumberd, wakes the bitter memorie
　　Of what he was, what is, and what must be
　　Worse; of worse deeds worse sufferings must ensue.
　　Sometimes towards Eden which now in his view
　　Lay pleasant, his grievd look he fixes sad,
　　Sometimes towards Heav'n and the full-blazing Sun,
　　Which now sat high in his Meridian Towre: 30
　　Then much revolving, thus in sighs began.
　　O thou that with surpassing Glory crownd,
　　Look'st from thy sole Dominion like the God
　　Of this new World; at whose sight all the Starrs
　　Hide thir diminisht heads; to thee I call,
　　But with no friendly voice, and add thy name
　　O Sun, to tell thee how I hate thy beams
　　That bring to my remembrance from what state
　　I fell, how glorious once above thy Spheare;
　　Till Pride and worse Ambition threw me down 40
　　Warring in Heav'n against Heav'ns matchless King:
　　Ah wherefore! he deservd no such return
　　>From me, whom he created what I was
　　In that bright eminence, and with his good
　　Upbraided none; nor was his service hard.
　　What could be less then to afford him praise,
　　The easiest recompence, and pay him thanks,
　　How due! yet all his good prov'd ill in me,
　　And wrought but malice; lifted up so high
　　I sdeind subjection, and thought one step higher 50
　　Would set me highest, and in a moment quit
　　The debt immense of endless gratitude,
　　So burthensome, still paying, still to ow;
　　Forgetful what from him I still receivd,
　　And understood not that a grateful mind
　　By owing owes not, but still pays, at once
　　Indebted and dischargd; what burden then?
　　O had his powerful Destiny ordaind
　　Me some inferiour Angel, I had stood
　　Then happie; no unbounded hope had rais'd 60
　　Ambition. Yet why not? som other Power
　　As great might have aspir'd, and me though mean
　　Drawn to his part; but other Powers as great
　　Fell not, but stand unshak'n, from within
　　Or from without, to all temptations arm'd.
　　Hadst thou the same free Will and Power to stand?
　　Thou hadst: whom hast thou then or what to accuse,
　　But Heav'ns free Love dealt equally to all?
　　Be then his Love accurst, since love or hate,
　　To me alike, it deals eternal woe. 70
　　Nay curs'd be thou; since against his thy will
　　Chose freely what it now so justly rues.
　　Me miserable! which way shall I flie
　　Infinite wrauth, and infinite despaire?
　　Which way I flie is Hell; my self am Hell;
　　And in the lowest deep a lower deep
　　Still threatning to devour me opens wide,
　　To which the Hell I suffer seems a Heav'n.
　　O then at last relent: is there no place
　　Left for Repentance, none for Pardon left? 80
　　None left but by submission; and that word
　　Disdain forbids me, and my dread of shame
　　Among the spirits beneath, whom I seduc'd
　　With other promises and other vaunts
　　Then to submit, boasting I could subdue
　　Th' Omnipotent. Ay me, they little know
　　How dearly I abide that boast so vaine,
　　Under what torments inwardly I groane;
　　While they adore me on the Throne of Hell,
　　With Diadem and Scepter high advanc'd 90
　　The lower still I fall, onely Supream
　　In miserie; such joy Ambition findes.
　　But say I could repent and could obtaine
　　By Act of Grace my former state; how soon
　　Would highth recal high thoughts, how soon unsay
　　What feign'd submission swore: ease would recant
　　Vows made in pain, as violent and void.
　　For never can true reconcilement grow
　　Where wounds of deadly hate have peirc'd so deep:
　　Which would but lead me to a worse relapse 100
　　And heavier fall: so should I purchase deare
　　Short intermission bought with double smart.
　　This knows my punisher; therefore as farr
　　>From granting hee, as I from begging peace:
　　All hope excluded thus, behold in stead
　　Of us out-cast, exil'd, his new delight,
　　Mankind created, and for him this World.
　　So farwel Hope, and with Hope farwel Fear,
　　Farwel Remorse: all Good to me is lost;
　　Evil be thou my Good; by thee at least 110
　　Divided Empire with Heav'ns King I hold
　　By thee, and more then half perhaps will reigne;
　　As Man ere long, and this new World shall know.
　　Thus while he spake, each passion dimm'd his face
　　Thrice chang'd with pale, ire, envie and despair,
　　Which marrd his borrow'd visage, and betraid
　　Him counterfet, if any eye beheld.
　　For heav'nly mindes from such distempers foule
　　Are ever cleer. Whereof hee soon aware,
　　Each perturbation smooth'd with outward calme, 120
　　Artificer of fraud; and was the first
　　That practisd falshood under saintly shew,
　　Deep malice to conceale, couch't with revenge:
　　Yet not anough had practisd to deceive
　　Uriel once warnd; whose eye pursu'd him down
　　The way he went, and on th' Assyrian mount
　　Saw him disfigur'd, more then could befall
　　Spirit of happie sort: his gestures fierce
　　He markd and mad demeanour, then alone,
　　As he suppos'd, all unobserv'd, unseen. 130
　　So on he fares, and to the border comes
　　Of Eden, where delicious Paradise,
　　Now nearer, Crowns with her enclosure green,
　　As with a rural mound the champain head
　　Of a steep wilderness, whose hairie sides
　　With thicket overgrown, grottesque and wilde,
　　Access deni'd; and over head up grew
　　Insuperable highth of loftiest shade,
　　Cedar, and Pine, and Firr, and branching Palm,
　　A Silvan Scene, and as the ranks ascend 140
　　Shade above shade, a woodie Theatre
　　Of stateliest view. Yet higher then thir tops
　　The verdurous wall of Paradise up sprung:
　　Which to our general Sire gave prospect large
　　Into his neather Empire neighbouring round.
　　And higher then that Wall a circling row
　　Of goodliest Trees loaden with fairest Fruit,
　　Blossoms and Fruits at once of golden hue
　　Appeerd, with gay enameld colours mixt:
　　On which the Sun more glad impress'd his beams 150
　　Then in fair Evening Cloud, or humid Bow,
　　When God hath showrd the earth; so lovely seemd
　　That Lantskip: And of pure now purer aire
　　Meets his approach, and to the heart inspires
　　Vernal delight and joy, able to drive
　　All sadness but despair: now gentle gales
　　Fanning thir odoriferous wings dispense
　　Native perfumes, and whisper whence they stole
　　Those balmie spoiles. As when to them who saile
　　Beyond the Cape Of Hope, and now are past 160
　　Mozambic, off at Sea North-East windes blow
　　Sabean Odours from the spicie shoare
　　Of Arabie the blest, with such delay
　　Well pleas'd they slack thir course, and many a League
　　Cheard with the grateful smell old Ocean smiles.
　　So entertaind those odorous sweets the Fiend
　　Who came thir bane, though with them better pleas'd
　　Then Asmodeus with the fishie fume,
　　That drove him, though enamourd, from the Spouse
　　Of Tobits Son, and with a vengeance sent 170
　　>From Media post to Aegypt, there fast bound.
　　Now to th' ascent of that steep savage Hill
　　Satan had journied on, pensive and slow;
　　But further way found none, so thick entwin'd,
　　As one continu'd brake, the undergrowth
　　Of shrubs and tangling bushes had perplext
　　All path of Man or Beast that past that way:
　　One Gate there onely was, and that look'd East
　　On th' other side: which when th' arch-fellon saw
　　Due entrance he disdaind, and in contempt, 180
　　At one slight bound high overleap'd all bound
　　Of Hill or highest Wall, and sheer within
　　Lights on his feet. As when a prowling Wolfe,
　　Whom hunger drives to seek new haunt for prey,
　　Watching where Shepherds pen thir Flocks at eeve
　　In hurdl'd Cotes amid the field secure,
　　Leaps o're the fence with ease into the Fould:
　　Or as a Thief bent to unhoord the cash
　　Of some rich Burgher, whose substantial dores,
　　Cross-barrd and bolted fast, fear no assault, 190
　　In at the window climbes, or o're the tiles;
　　So clomb this first grand Thief into Gods Fould:
　　So since into his Church lewd Hirelings climbe.
　　Thence up he flew, and on the Tree of Life,
　　The middle Tree and highest there that grew,
　　Sat like a Cormorant; yet not true Life
　　Thereby regaind, but sat devising Death
　　To them who liv'd; nor on the vertue thought
　　Of that life-giving Plant, but only us'd
　　For prospect, what well us'd had bin the pledge 200
　　Of immortalitie. So little knows
　　Any, but God alone, to value right
　　The good before him, but perverts best things
　　To worst abuse, or to thir meanest use.
　　Beneath him with new wonder now he views
　　To all delight of human sense expos'd
　　In narrow room Natures whole wealth, yea more,
　　A Heaven on Earth, for blissful Paradise
　　Of God the Garden was, by him in the East
　　Of Eden planted; Eden stretchd her Line 210
　　>From Auran Eastward to the Royal Towrs
　　Of great Seleucia, built by Grecian Kings,
　　Or where the Sons of Eden long before
　　Dwelt in Telassar: in this pleasant soile
　　His farr more pleasant Garden God ordaind;
　　Out of the fertil ground he caus'd to grow
　　All Trees of noblest kind for sight, smell, taste;
　　And all amid them stood the Tree of Life,
　　High eminent, blooming Ambrosial Fruit
　　Of vegetable Gold; and next to Life 220
　　Our Death the Tree of Knowledge grew fast by,
　　Knowledge of Good bought dear by knowing ill.
　　Southward through Eden went a River large,
　　Nor chang'd his course, but through the shaggie hill
　　Pass'd underneath ingulft, for God had thrown
　　That Mountain as his Garden mould high rais'd
　　Upon the rapid current, which through veins
　　Of porous Earth with kindly thirst up drawn,
　　Rose a fresh Fountain, and with many a rill
　　Waterd the Garden; thence united fell 230
　　Down the steep glade, and met the neather Flood,
　　Which from his darksom passage now appeers,
　　And now divided into four main Streams,
　　Runs divers, wandring many a famous Realme
　　And Country whereof here needs no account,
　　But rather to tell how, if Art could tell,
　　How from that Saphire Fount the crisped Brooks,
　　Rowling on Orient Pearl and sands of Gold,
　　With mazie error under pendant shades
　　Ran Nectar, visiting each plant, and fed 240
　　Flours worthy of Paradise which not nice Art
　　In Beds and curious Knots, but Nature boon
　　Powrd forth profuse on Hill and Dale and Plaine,
　　Both where the morning Sun first warmly smote
　　The open field, and where the unpierc't shade
　　Imbround the noontide Bowrs: Thus was this place,
　　A happy rural seat of various view;
　　Groves whose rich Trees wept odorous Gumms and Balme,
　　Others whose fruit burnisht with Golden Rinde
　　Hung amiable, Hesperian Fables true, 250
　　If true, here onely, and of delicious taste:
　　Betwixt them Lawns, or level Downs, and Flocks
　　Grasing the tender herb, were interpos'd,
　　Or palmie hilloc, or the flourie lap
　　Of som irriguous Valley spread her store,
　　Flours of all hue, and without Thorn the Rose:
　　Another side, umbrageous Grots and Caves
　　Of coole recess, o're which the mantling Vine
　　Layes forth her purple Grape, and gently creeps
　　Luxuriant; mean while murmuring waters fall 260
　　Down the slope hills, disperst, or in a Lake,
　　That to the fringed Bank with Myrtle crownd,
　　Her chrystall mirror holds, unite thir streams.
　　The Birds thir quire apply; aires, vernal aires,
　　Breathing the smell of field and grove, attune
　　The trembling leaves, while Universal Pan
　　Knit with the Graces and the Hours in dance
　　Led on th' Eternal Spring. Not that faire field
　　Of Enna, where Proserpin gathring flours
　　Her self a fairer Floure by gloomie Dis 270
　　Was gatherd, which cost Ceres all that pain
　　To seek her through the world; nor that sweet Grove
　　Of Daphne by Orontes, and th' inspir'd
　　Castalian Spring might with this Paradise
　　Of Eden strive; nor that Nyseian Ile
　　Girt with the River Triton, where old Cham,
　　Whom Gentiles Ammon call and Libyan Jove,
　　Hid Amalthea and her Florid Son
　　Young Bacchus from his Stepdame Rhea's eye;
　　Nor where Abassin Kings thir issue Guard, 280
　　Mount Amara, though this by som suppos'd
　　True Paradise under the Ethiop Line
　　By Nilus head, enclos'd with shining Rock,
　　A whole dayes journey high, but wide remote
　　>From this Assyrian Garden, where the Fiend
　　Saw undelighted all delight, all kind
　　Of living Creatures new to sight and strange:
　　Two of far nobler shape erect and tall,
　　Godlike erect, with native Honour clad
　　In naked Majestie seemd Lords of all, 290
　　And worthie seemd, for in thir looks Divine
　　The image of thir glorious Maker shon,
　　Truth, Wisdome, Sanctitude severe and pure,
　　Severe, but in true filial freedom plac't;
　　Whence true autoritie in men; though both
　　Not equal, as thir sex not equal seemd;
　　For contemplation hee and valour formd,
　　For softness shee and sweet attractive Grace,
　　Hee for God only, shee for God in him:
　　His fair large Front and Eye sublime declar'd 300
　　Absolute rule; and Hyacinthin Locks
　　Round from his parted forelock manly hung
　　Clustring, but not beneath his shoulders broad:
　　Shee as a vail down to the slender waste
　　Her unadorned golden tresses wore
　　Dissheveld, but in wanton ringlets wav'd
　　As the Vine curles her tendrils, which impli'd
　　Subjection, but requir'd with gentle sway,
　　And by her yeilded, by him best receivd,
　　Yeilded with coy submission, modest pride, 310
　　And sweet reluctant amorous delay.
　　Nor those mysterious parts were then conceald,
　　Then was not guiltie shame, dishonest shame
　　Of natures works, honor dishonorable,
　　Sin-bred, how have ye troubl'd all mankind
　　With shews instead, meer shews of seeming pure,
　　And banisht from mans life his happiest life,
　　Simplicitie and spotless innocence.
　　So passd they naked on, nor shund the sight
　　Of God or Angel, for they thought no ill: 320
　　So hand in hand they passd, the lovliest pair
　　That ever since in loves imbraces met,
　　Adam the goodliest man of men since borne
　　His Sons, the fairest of her Daughters Eve.
　　Under a tuft of shade that on a green
　　Stood whispering soft, by a fresh Fountain side
　　They sat them down, and after no more toil
　　Of thir sweet Gardning labour then suffic'd
　　To recommend coole Zephyr, and made ease
　　More easie, wholsom thirst and appetite 330
　　More grateful, to thir Supper Fruits they fell,
　　Nectarine Fruits which the compliant boughes
　　Yeilded them, side-long as they sat recline
　　On the soft downie Bank damaskt with flours:
　　The savourie pulp they chew, and in the rinde
　　Still as they thirsted scoop the brimming stream;
　　Nor gentle purpose, nor endearing smiles
　　Wanted, nor youthful dalliance as beseems
　　Fair couple, linkt in happie nuptial League,
　　Alone as they. About them frisking playd 340
　　All Beasts of th' Earth, since wilde, and of all chase
　　In Wood or Wilderness, Forrest or Den;
　　Sporting the Lion rampd, and in his paw
　　Dandl'd the Kid; Bears, Tygers, Ounces, Pards
　　Gambold before them, th' unwieldy Elephant
　　To make them mirth us'd all his might, and wreathd
　　His Lithe Proboscis; close the Serpent sly
　　Insinuating, wove with Gordian twine
　　His breaded train, and of his fatal guile
　　Gave proof unheeded; others on the grass 350
　　Coucht, and now fild with pasture gazing sat,
　　Or Bedward ruminating: for the Sun
　　Declin'd was hasting now with prone carreer
　　To th' Ocean Iles, and in th' ascending Scale
　　Of Heav'n the Starrs that usher Evening rose:
　　When Satan still in gaze, as first he stood,
　　Scarce thus at length faild speech recoverd sad.
　　O Hell! what doe mine eyes with grief behold,
　　Into our room of bliss thus high advanc't
　　Creatures of other mould, earth-born perhaps, 360
　　Not Spirits, yet to heav'nly Spirits bright
　　Little inferior; whom my thoughts pursue
　　With wonder, and could love, so lively shines
　　In them Divine resemblance, and such grace
　　The hand that formd them on thir shape hath pourd.
　　Ah gentle pair, yee little think how nigh
　　Your change approaches, when all these delights
　　Will vanish and deliver ye to woe,
　　More woe, the more your taste is now of joy;
　　Happie, but for so happie ill secur'd 370
　　Long to continue, and this high seat your Heav'n
　　Ill fenc't for Heav'n to keep out such a foe
　　As now is enterd; yet no purpos'd foe
　　To you whom I could pittie thus forlorne
　　Though I unpittied: League with you I seek,
　　And mutual amitie so streight, so close,
　　That I with you must dwell, or you with me
　　Henceforth; my dwelling haply may not please
　　Like this fair Paradise, your sense, yet such
　　Accept your Makers work; he gave it me, 380
　　Which I as freely give; Hell shall unfould,
　　To entertain you two, her widest Gates,
　　And send forth all her Kings; there will be room,
　　Not like these narrow limits, to receive
　　Your numerous ofspring; if no better place,
　　Thank him who puts me loath to this revenge
　　On you who wrong me not for him who wrongd.
　　And should I at your harmless innocence
　　Melt, as I doe, yet public reason just,
　　Honour and Empire with revenge enlarg'd, 390
　　By conquering this new World, compels me now
　　To do what else though damnd I should abhorre.
　　So spake the Fiend, and with necessitie,
　　The Tyrants plea, excus'd his devilish deeds.
　　Then from his loftie stand on that high Tree
　　Down he alights among the sportful Herd
　　Of those fourfooted kindes, himself now one,
　　Now other, as thir shape servd best his end
　　Neerer to view his prey, and unespi'd
　　To mark what of thir state he more might learn 400
　　By word or action markt: about them round
　　A Lion now he stalkes with fierie glare,
　　Then as a Tiger, who by chance hath spi'd
　　In some Purlieu two gentle Fawnes at play,
　　Strait couches close, then rising changes oft
　　His couchant watch, as one who chose his ground
　　Whence rushing he might surest seise them both
　　Grip't in each paw: when Adam first of men
　　To first of women Eve thus moving speech,
　　Turnd him all eare to heare new utterance flow. 410
　　Sole partner and sole part of all these joyes,
　　Dearer thy self then all; needs must the Power
　　That made us, and for us this ample World
　　Be infinitly good, and of his good
　　As liberal and free as infinite,
　　That rais'd us from the dust and plac't us here
　　In all this happiness, who at his hand
　　Have nothing merited, nor can performe
　　Aught whereof hee hath need, hee who requires
　　>From us no other service then to keep 420
　　This one, this easie charge, of all the Trees
　　In Paradise that beare delicious fruit
　　So various, not to taste that onely Tree
　　Of knowledge, planted by the Tree of Life,
　　So neer grows Death to Life, what ere Death is,
　　Som dreadful thing no doubt; for well thou knowst
　　God hath pronounc't it death to taste that Tree,
　　The only sign of our obedience left
　　Among so many signes of power and rule
　　Conferrd upon us, and Dominion giv'n 430
　　Over all other Creatures that possesse
　　Earth, Aire, and Sea. Then let us not think hard
　　One easie prohibition, who enjoy
　　Free leave so large to all things else, and choice
　　Unlimited of manifold delights:
　　But let us ever praise him, and extoll
　　His bountie, following our delightful task
　　To prune these growing Plants, & tend these Flours,
　　Which were it toilsom, yet with thee were sweet.
　　To whom thus Eve repli'd. O thou for whom 440
　　And from whom I was formd flesh of thy flesh,
　　And without whom am to no end, my Guide
　　And Head, what thou hast said is just and right.
　　For wee to him indeed all praises owe,
　　And daily thanks, I chiefly who enjoy
　　So farr the happier Lot, enjoying thee
　　Preeminent by so much odds, while thou
　　Like consort to thy self canst no where find.
　　That day I oft remember, when from sleep
　　I first awak't, and found my self repos'd 450
　　Under a shade on flours, much wondring where
　　And what I was, whence thither brought, and how.
　　Not distant far from thence a murmuring sound
　　Of waters issu'd from a Cave and spread
　　Into a liquid Plain, then stood unmov'd
　　Pure as th' expanse of Heav'n; I thither went
　　With unexperienc't thought, and laid me downe
　　On the green bank, to look into the cleer
　　Smooth Lake, that to me seemd another Skie.
　　As I bent down to look, just opposite, 460
　　A Shape within the watry gleam appeerd
　　Bending to look on me, I started back,
　　It started back, but pleasd I soon returnd,
　　Pleas'd it returnd as soon with answering looks
　　Of sympathie and love, there I had fixt
　　Mine eyes till now, and pin'd with vain desire,
　　Had not a voice thus warnd me, What thou seest,
　　What there thou seest fair Creature is thy self,
　　With thee it came and goes: but follow me,
　　And I will bring thee where no shadow staies 470
　　Thy coming, and thy soft imbraces, hee
　　Whose image thou art, him thou shall enjoy
　　Inseparablie thine, to him shalt beare
　　Multitudes like thy self, and thence be call'd
　　Mother of human Race: what could I doe,
　　But follow strait, invisibly thus led?
　　Till I espi'd thee, fair indeed and tall,
　　Under a Platan, yet methought less faire,
　　Less winning soft, less amiablie milde,
　　Then that smooth watry image; back I turnd, 480
　　Thou following cryd'st aloud, Return fair Eve,
　　Whom fli'st thou? whom thou fli'st, of him thou art,
　　His flesh, his bone; to give thee being I lent
　　Out of my side to thee, neerest my heart
　　Substantial Life, to have thee by my side
　　Henceforth an individual solace dear;
　　Part of my Soul I seek thee, and thee claim
　　My other half: with that thy gentle hand
　　Seisd mine, I yeilded, and from that time see
　　How beauty is excelld by manly grace 490
　　And wisdom, which alone is truly fair.
　　So spake our general Mother, and with eyes
　　Of conjugal attraction unreprov'd,
　　And meek surrender, half imbracing leand
　　On our first Father, half her swelling Breast
　　Naked met his under the flowing Gold
　　Of her loose tresses hid: he in delight
　　Both of her Beauty and submissive Charms
　　Smil'd with superior Love, as Jupiter
　　On Juno smiles, when he impregns the Clouds 500
　　That shed May Flowers; and press'd her Matron lip
　　With kisses pure: aside the Devil turnd
　　For envie, yet with jealous leer maligne
　　Ey'd them askance, and to himself thus plaind.
　　Sight hateful, sight tormenting! thus these two
　　Imparadis't in one anothers arms
　　The happier Eden, shall enjoy thir fill
　　Of bliss on bliss, while I to Hell am thrust,
　　Where neither joy nor love, but fierce desire,
　　Among our other torments not the least, 510
　　Still unfulfill'd with pain of longing pines;
　　Yet let me not forget what I have gain'd
　　>From thir own mouths; all is not theirs it seems:
　　One fatal Tree there stands of Knowledge call'd,
　　Forbidden them to taste: Knowledge forbidd'n?
　　Suspicious, reasonless. Why should thir Lord
　　Envie them that? can it be sin to know,
　　Can it be death? and do they onely stand
　　By Ignorance, is that thir happie state,
　　The proof of thir obedience and thir faith? 520
　　O fair foundation laid whereon to build
　　Thir ruine! Hence I will excite thir minds
　　With more desire to know, and to reject
　　Envious commands, invented with designe
　　To keep them low whom knowledge might exalt
　　Equal with Gods; aspiring to be such,
　　They taste and die: what likelier can ensue?
　　But first with narrow search I must walk round
　　This Garden, and no corner leave unspi'd;
　　A chance but chance may lead where I may meet 530
　　Some wandring Spirit of Heav'n, by Fountain side,
　　Or in thick shade retir'd, from him to draw
　　What further would be learnt. Live while ye may,
　　Yet happie pair; enjoy, till I return,
　　Short pleasures, for long woes are to succeed.
　　So saying, his proud step he scornful turn'd,
　　But with sly circumspection, and began
　　Through wood, through waste, o're hil, o're dale his roam.
　　Mean while in utmost Longitude, where Heav'n
　　With Earth and Ocean meets, the setting Sun 540
　　Slowly descended, and with right aspect
　　Against the eastern Gate of Paradise
　　Leveld his eevning Rayes: it was a Rock
　　Of Alablaster, pil'd up to the Clouds,
　　Conspicuous farr, winding with one ascent
　　Accessible from Earth, one entrance high;
　　The rest was craggie cliff, that overhung
　　Still as it rose, impossible to climbe.
　　Betwixt these rockie Pillars Gabriel sat
　　Chief of th' Angelic Guards, awaiting night; 550
　　About him exercis'd Heroic Games
　　Th' unarmed Youth of Heav'n, but nigh at hand
　　Celestial Armourie, Shields, Helmes, and Speares
　　Hung high with Diamond flaming, and with Gold.
　　Thither came Uriel, gliding through the Eeven
　　On a Sun beam, swift as a shooting Starr
　　In Autumn thwarts the night, when vapors fir'd
　　Impress the Air, and shews the Mariner
　　>From what point of his Compass to beware
　　Impetuous winds: he thus began in haste. 560
　　Gabriel, to thee thy cours by Lot hath giv'n
　　Charge and strict watch that to this happie place
　　No evil thing approach or enter in;
　　This day at highth of Noon came to my Spheare
　　A Spirit, zealous, as he seem'd, to know
　　More of th' Almighties works, and chiefly Man
　　Gods latest Image: I describ'd his way
　　Bent all on speed, and markt his Aerie Gate;
　　But in the Mount that lies from Eden North,
　　Where he first lighted, soon discernd his looks 570
　　Alien from Heav'n, with passions foul obscur'd:
　　Mine eye pursu'd him still, but under shade
　　Lost sight of him; one of the banisht crew
　　I fear, hath ventur'd from the deep, to raise
　　New troubles; him thy care must be to find.
　　To whom the winged Warriour thus returnd:
　　Uriel, no wonder if thy perfet sight,
　　Amid the Suns bright circle where thou sitst,
　　See farr and wide: in at this Gate none pass
　　The vigilance here plac't, but such as come 580
　　Well known from Heav'n; and since Meridian hour
　　No Creature thence: if Spirit of other sort,
　　So minded, have oreleapt these earthie bounds
　　On purpose, hard thou knowst it to exclude
　　Spiritual substance with corporeal barr.
　　But if within the circuit of these walks
　　In whatsoever shape he lurk, of whom
　　Thou telst, by morrow dawning I shall know.
　　So promis'd hee, and Uriel to his charge
　　Returnd on that bright beam, whose point now raisd 590
　　Bore him slope downward to the Sun now fall'n
　　Beneath th' Azores; whither the prime Orb,
　　Incredible how swift, had thither rowl'd
　　Diurnal, or this less volubil Earth
　　By shorter flight to th' East, had left him there
　　Arraying with reflected Purple and Gold
　　The Clouds that on his Western Throne attend:
　　Now came still Eevning on, and Twilight gray
　　Had in her sober Liverie all things clad;
　　Silence accompanied, for Beast and Bird, 600
　　They to thir grassie Couch, these to thir Nests
　　Were slunk, all but the wakeful Nightingale;
　　She all night long her amorous descant sung;
　　Silence was pleas'd: now glow'd the Firmament
　　With living Saphirs: Hesperus that led
　　The starrie Host, rode brightest, till the Moon
　　Rising in clouded Majestie, at length
　　Apparent Queen unvaild her peerless light,
　　And o're the dark her Silver Mantle threw.
　　When Adam thus to Eve: Fair Consort, th' hour 610
　　Of night, and all things now retir'd to rest
　　Mind us of like repose, since God hath set
　　Labour and rest, as day and night to men
　　Successive, and the timely dew of sleep
　　Now falling with soft slumbrous weight inclines
　　Our eye-lids; other Creatures all day long
　　Rove idle unimploid, and less need rest;
　　Man hath his daily work of body or mind
　　Appointed, which declares his Dignitie,
　　And the regard of Heav'n on all his waies; 620
　　While other Animals unactive range,
　　And of thir doings God takes no account.
　　Tomorrow ere fresh Morning streak the East
　　With first approach of light, we must be ris'n,
　　And at our pleasant labour, to reform
　　Yon flourie Arbors, yonder Allies green,
　　Our walks at noon, with branches overgrown,
　　That mock our scant manuring, and require
　　More hands then ours to lop thir wanton growth:
　　Those Blossoms also, and those dropping Gumms, 630
　　That lie bestrowne unsightly and unsmooth,
　　Ask riddance, if we mean to tread with ease;
　　Mean while, as Nature wills, Night bids us rest.
　　To whom thus Eve with perfet beauty adornd.
　　My Author and Disposer, what thou bidst
　　Unargu'd I obey; so God ordains,
　　God is thy Law, thou mine: to know no more
　　Is womans happiest knowledge and her praise.
　　With thee conversing I forget all time,
　　All seasons and thir change, all please alike. 640
　　Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet,
　　With charm of earliest Birds; pleasant the Sun
　　When first on this delightful Land he spreads
　　His orient Beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and flour,
　　Glistring with dew; fragrant the fertil earth
　　After soft showers; and sweet the coming on
　　Of grateful Eevning milde, then silent Night
　　With this her solemn Bird and this fair Moon,
　　And these the Gemms of Heav'n, her starrie train:
　　But neither breath of Morn when she ascends 650
　　With charm of earliest Birds, nor rising Sun
　　On this delightful land, nor herb, fruit, floure,
　　Glistring with dew, nor fragrance after showers,
　　Nor grateful Evening mild, nor silent Night
　　With this her solemn Bird, nor walk by Moon,
　　Or glittering Starr-light without thee is sweet.
　　But wherfore all night long shine these, for whom
　　This glorious sight, when sleep hath shut all eyes?
　　To whom our general Ancestor repli'd.
　　Daughter of God and Man, accomplisht Eve, 660
　　Those have thir course to finish, round the Earth,
　　By morrow Eevning, and from Land to Land
　　In order, though to Nations yet unborn,
　　Ministring light prepar'd, they set and rise;
　　Least total darkness should by Night regaine
　　Her old possession, and extinguish life
　　In Nature and all things, which these soft fires
　　Not only enlighten, but with kindly heate
　　Of various influence foment and warme,
　　Temper or nourish, or in part shed down 670
　　Thir stellar vertue on all kinds that grow
　　On Earth, made hereby apter to receive
　　Perfection from the Suns more potent Ray.
　　These then, though unbeheld in deep of night,
　　Shine not in vain, nor think, though men were none,
　　That heav'n would want spectators, God want praise;
　　Millions of spiritual Creatures walk the Earth
　　Unseen, both when we wake, and when we sleep:
　　All these with ceasless praise his works behold
　　Both day and night: how often from the steep 680
　　Of echoing Hill or Thicket have we heard
　　Celestial voices to the midnight air,
　　Sole, or responsive each to others note
　　Singing thir great Creator: oft in bands
　　While they keep watch, or nightly rounding walk
　　With Heav'nly touch of instrumental sounds
　　In full harmonic number joind, thir songs
　　Divide the night, and lift our thoughts to Heaven.
　　Thus talking hand in hand alone they pass'd
　　On to thir blissful Bower; it was a place 690
　　Chos'n by the sovran Planter, when he fram'd
　　All things to mans delightful use; the roofe
　　Of thickest covert was inwoven shade
　　Laurel and Mirtle, and what higher grew
　　Of firm and fragrant leaf; on either side
　　Acanthus, and each odorous bushie shrub
　　Fenc'd up the verdant wall; each beauteous flour,
　　Iris all hues, Roses, and Gessamin
　　Rear'd high thir flourisht heads between, and wrought
　　Mosaic; underfoot the Violet, 700
　　Crocus, and Hyacinth with rich inlay
　　Broiderd the ground, more colour'd then with stone
　　Of costliest Emblem: other Creature here
　　Beast, Bird, Insect, or Worm durst enter none;
　　Such was thir awe of man. In shadier Bower
　　More sacred and sequesterd, though but feignd,
　　Pan or Silvanus never slept, nor Nymph,
　　Nor Faunus haunted. Here in close recess
　　With Flowers, Garlands, and sweet-smelling Herbs
　　Espoused Eve deckt first her Nuptial Bed, 710
　　And heav'nly Quires the Hymenaean sung,
　　What day the genial Angel to our Sire
　　Brought her in naked beauty more adorn'd,
　　More lovely then Pandora, whom the Gods
　　Endowd with all thir gifts, and O too like
　　In sad event, when to the unwiser Son
　　Of Japhet brought by Hermes, she ensnar'd
　　Mankind with her faire looks, to be aveng'd
　　On him who had stole Joves authentic fire.
　　Thus at thir shadie Lodge arriv'd, both stood, 720
　　Both turnd, and under op'n Skie ador'd
　　The God that made both Skie, Air, Earth & Heav'n
　　Which they beheld, the Moons resplendent Globe
　　And starrie Pole: Thou also mad'st the Night,
　　Maker Omnipotent, and thou the Day,
　　Which we in our appointed work imployd
　　Have finisht happie in our mutual help
　　And mutual love, the Crown of all our bliss
　　Ordain'd by thee, and this delicious place
　　For us too large, where thy abundance wants 730
　　Partakers, and uncropt falls to the ground.
　　But thou hast promis'd from us two a Race
　　To fill the Earth, who shall with us extoll
　　Thy goodness infinite, both when we wake,
　　And when we seek, as now, thy gift of sleep.
　　This said unanimous, and other Rites
　　Observing none, but adoration pure
　　Which God likes best, into thir inmost bower
　　Handed they went; and eas'd the putting off
　　These troublesom disguises which wee wear, 740
　　Strait side by side were laid, nor turnd I weene
　　Adam from his fair Spouse, nor Eve the Rites
　　Mysterious of connubial Love refus'd:
　　Whatever Hypocrites austerely talk
　　Of puritie and place and innocence,
　　Defaming as impure what God declares
　　Pure, and commands to som, leaves free to all.
　　Our Maker bids increase, who bids abstain
　　But our Destroyer, foe to God and Man?
　　Haile wedded Love, mysterious Law, true source 750
　　Of human ofspring, sole proprietie,
　　In Paradise of all things common else.
　　By thee adulterous lust was driv'n from men
　　Among the bestial herds to raunge, by thee
　　Founded in Reason, Loyal, Just, and Pure,
　　Relations dear, and all the Charities
　　Of Father, Son, and Brother first were known.
　　Farr be it, that I should write thee sin or blame,
　　Or think thee unbefitting holiest place,
　　Perpetual Fountain of Domestic sweets, 760
　　Whose Bed is undefil'd and chast pronounc't,
　　Present, or past, as Saints and Patriarchs us'd.
　　Here Love his golden shafts imploies, here lights
　　His constant Lamp, and waves his purple wings,
　　Reigns here and revels; not in the bought smile
　　Of Harlots, loveless, joyless, unindeard,
　　Casual fruition, nor in Court Amours
　　Mixt Dance, or wanton Mask, or Midnight Bal,
　　Or Serenate, which the starv'd Lover sings
　　To his proud fair, best quitted with disdain. 770
　　These lulld by Nightingales imbraceing slept,
　　And on thir naked limbs the flourie roof
　　Showrd Roses, which the Morn repair'd. Sleep on,
　　Blest pair; and O yet happiest if ye seek
　　No happier state, and know to know no more.
　　Now had night measur'd with her shaddowie Cone
　　Half way up Hill this vast Sublunar Vault,
　　And from thir Ivorie Port the Cherubim
　　Forth issuing at th' accustomd hour stood armd
　　To thir night watches in warlike Parade, 780
　　When Gabriel to his next in power thus spake.
　　Uzziel, half these draw off, and coast the South
　　With strictest watch; these other wheel the North,
　　Our circuit meets full West. As flame they part
　　Half wheeling to the Shield, half to the Spear.
　　>From these, two strong and suttle Spirits he calld
　　That neer him stood, and gave them thus in charge.
　　Ithuriel and Zephon, with wingd speed
　　Search through this Garden, leav unsearcht no nook,
　　But chiefly where those two fair Creatures Lodge, 790
　　Now laid perhaps asleep secure of harme.
　　This Eevning from the Sun's decline arriv'd
　　Who tells of som infernal Spirit seen
　　Hitherward bent (who could have thought?) escap'd
　　The barrs of Hell, on errand bad no doubt:
　　Such where ye find, seise fast, and hither bring.
　　So saying, on he led his radiant Files,
　　Daz'ling the Moon; these to the Bower direct
　　In search of whom they sought: him there they found
　　Squat like a Toad, close at the eare of Eve; 800
　　Assaying by his Devilish art to reach
　　The Organs of her Fancie, and with them forge
　　Illusions as he list, Phantasms and Dreams,
　　Or if, inspiring venom, he might taint
　　Th' animal Spirits that from pure blood arise
　　Like gentle breaths from Rivers pure, thence raise
　　At least distemperd, discontented thoughts,
　　Vain hopes, vain aimes, inordinate desires
　　Blown up with high conceits ingendring pride.
　　Him thus intent Ithuriel with his Spear 810
　　Touch'd lightly; for no falshood can endure
　　Touch of Celestial temper, but returns
　　Of force to its own likeness: up he starts
　　Discoverd and surpriz'd. As when a spark
　　Lights on a heap of nitrous Powder, laid
　　Fit for the Tun som Magazin to store
　　Against a rumord Warr, the Smuttie graine
　　With sudden blaze diffus'd, inflames the Aire:
　　So started up in his own shape the Fiend.
　　Back stept those two fair Angels half amaz'd 820
　　So sudden to behold the grieslie King;
　　Yet thus, unmovd with fear, accost him soon.
　　Which of those rebell Spirits adjudg'd to Hell
　　Com'st thou, escap'd thy prison, and transform'd,
　　Why satst thou like an enemie in waite
　　Here watching at the head of these that sleep?
　　Know ye not then said Satan, filld with scorn,
　　Know ye not me? ye knew me once no mate
　　For you, there sitting where ye durst not soare;
　　Not to know mee argues your selves unknown, 830
　　The lowest of your throng; or if ye know,
　　Why ask ye, and superfluous begin
　　Your message, like to end as much in vain?
　　To whom thus Zephon, answering scorn with scorn.
　　Think not, revolted Spirit, thy shape the same,
　　Or undiminisht brightness, to be known
　　As when thou stoodst in Heav'n upright and pure;
　　That Glorie then, when thou no more wast good,
　　Departed from thee, and thou resembl'st now
　　Thy sin and place of doom obscure and foule. 840
　　But come, for thou, be sure, shalt give account
　　To him who sent us, whose charge is to keep
　　This place inviolable, and these from harm.
　　So spake the Cherube, and his grave rebuke
　　Severe in youthful beautie, added grace
　　Invincible: abasht the Devil stood,
　　And felt how awful goodness is, and saw
　　Vertue in her shape how lovly, saw, and pin'd
　　His loss; but chiefly to find here observd
　　His lustre visibly impar'd; yet seemd 850
　　Undaunted. If I must contend, said he,
　　Best with the best, the Sender not the sent,
　　Or all at once; more glorie will be wonn,
　　Or less be lost. Thy fear, said Zephon bold,
　　Will save us trial what the least can doe
　　Single against thee wicked, and thence weak.
　　The Fiend repli'd not, overcome with rage;
　　But like a proud Steed reind, went hautie on,
　　Chaumping his iron curb: to strive or flie
　　He held it vain; awe from above had quelld 860
　　His heart, not else dismai'd. Now drew they nigh
　　The western point, where those half-rounding guards
　　Just met, & closing stood in squadron joind
　　Awaiting next command. To whom thir Chief
　　Gabriel from the Front thus calld aloud.
　　O friends, I hear the tread of nimble feet
　　Hasting this way, and now by glimps discerne
　　Ithuriel and Zephon through the shade,
　　And with them comes a third of Regal port,
　　But faded splendor wan; who by his gate 870
　　And fierce demeanour seems the Prince of Hell,
　　Not likely to part hence without contest;
　　Stand firm, for in his look defiance lours.
　　He scarce had ended, when those two approachd
　　And brief related whom they brought, wher found,
　　How busied, in what form and posture coucht.
　　To whom with stern regard thus Gabriel spake.
　　Why hast thou, Satan, broke the bounds prescrib'd
　　To thy transgressions, and disturbd the charge
　　Of others, who approve not to transgress 880
　　By thy example, but have power and right
　　To question thy bold entrance on this place;
　　Imploi'd it seems to violate sleep, and those
　　Whose dwelling God hath planted here in bliss?
　　To whom thus Satan with contemptuous brow.
　　Gabriel, thou hadst in Heav'n th' esteem of wise,
　　And such I held thee; but this question askt
　　Puts me in doubt. Lives ther who loves his pain?
　　Who would not, finding way, break loose from Hell,
　　Though thither doomd? Thou wouldst thy self, no doubt, 890
　　And boldly venture to whatever place
　　Farthest from pain, where thou mightst hope to change
　　Torment with ease, & soonest recompence
　　Dole with delight, which in this place I sought;
　　To thee no reason; who knowst only good,
　　But evil hast not tri'd: and wilt object
　　His will who bound us? let him surer barr
　　His Iron Gates, if he intends our stay
　　In that dark durance: thus much what was askt.
　　The rest is true, they found me where they say; 900
　　But that implies not violence or harme.
　　Thus hee in scorn. The warlike Angel mov'd,
　　Disdainfully half smiling thus repli'd.
　　O loss of one in Heav'n to judge of wise,
　　Since Satan fell, whom follie overthrew,
　　And now returns him from his prison scap't,
　　Gravely in doubt whether to hold them wise
　　Or not, who ask what boldness brought him hither
　　Unlicenc't from his bounds in Hell prescrib'd;
　　So wise he judges it to fly from pain 910
　　However, and to scape his punishment.
　　So judge thou still, presumptuous, till the wrauth,
　　Which thou incurr'st by flying, meet thy flight
　　Seavenfold, and scourge that wisdom back to Hell,
　　Which taught thee yet no better, that no pain
　　Can equal anger infinite provok't.
　　But wherefore thou alone? wherefore with thee
　　Came not all Hell broke loose? is pain to them
　　Less pain, less to be fled, or thou then they
　　Less hardie to endure? courageous Chief, 920
　　The first in flight from pain, had'st thou alleg'd
　　To thy deserted host this cause of flight,
　　Thou surely hadst not come sole fugitive.
　　To which the Fiend thus answerd frowning stern.
　　Not that I less endure, or shrink from pain,
　　Insulting Angel, well thou knowst I stood
　　Thy fiercest, when in Battel to thy aide
　　The blasting volied Thunder made all speed
　　And seconded thy else not dreaded Spear.
　　But still thy words at random, as before, 930
　　Argue thy inexperience what behooves
　　>From hard assaies and ill successes past
　　A faithful Leader, not to hazard all
　　Through wayes of danger by himself untri'd.
　　I therefore, I alone first undertook
　　To wing the desolate Abyss, and spie
　　This new created World, whereof in Hell
　　Fame is not silent, here in hope to find
　　Better abode, and my afflicted Powers
　　To settle here on Earth, or in mid Aire; 940
　　Though for possession put to try once more
　　What thou and thy gay Legions dare against;
　　Whose easier business were to serve thir Lord
　　High up in Heav'n, with songs to hymne his Throne,
　　And practis'd distances to cringe, not fight.
　　To whom the warriour Angel soon repli'd.
　　To say and strait unsay, pretending first
　　Wise to flie pain, professing next the Spie,
　　Argues no Leader, but a lyar trac't,
　　Satan, and couldst thou faithful add? O name, 950
　　O sacred name of faithfulness profan'd!
　　Faithful to whom? to thy rebellious crew?
　　Armie of Fiends, fit body to fit head;
　　Was this your discipline and faith ingag'd,
　　Your military obedience, to dissolve
　　Allegeance to th' acknowledg'd Power supream?
　　And thou sly hypocrite, who now wouldst seem
　　Patron of liberty, who more then thou
　　Once fawn'd, and cring'd, and servilly ador'd
　　Heav'ns awful Monarch? wherefore but in hope 960
　　To dispossess him, and thy self to reigne?
　　But mark what I arreede thee now, avant;
　　Flie thither whence thou fledst: if from this houre
　　Within these hallowd limits thou appeer,
　　Back to th' infernal pit I drag thee chaind,
　　And Seale thee so, as henceforth not to scorne
　　The facil gates of hell too slightly barrd.
　　So threatn'd hee, but Satan to no threats
　　Gave heed, but waxing more in rage repli'd.
　　Then when I am thy captive talk of chaines, 970
　　Proud limitarie Cherube, but ere then
　　Farr heavier load thy self expect to feel
　　>From my prevailing arme, though Heavens King
　　Ride on thy wings, and thou with thy Compeers,
　　Us'd to the yoak, draw'st his triumphant wheels
　　In progress through the rode of Heav'n Star-pav'd.
　　While thus he spake, th' Angelic Squadron bright
　　Turnd fierie red, sharpning in mooned hornes
　　Thir Phalanx, and began to hemm him round
　　With ported Spears, as thick as when a field 980
　　Of Ceres ripe for harvest waving bends
　　Her bearded Grove of ears, which way the wind
　　Swayes them; the careful Plowman doubting stands
　　Least on the threshing floore his hopeful sheaves
　　Prove chaff. On th' other side Satan allarm'd
　　Collecting all his might dilated stood,
　　Like Teneriff or Atlas unremov'd:
　　His stature reacht the Skie, and on his Crest
　　Sat horror Plum'd; nor wanted in his graspe
　　What seemd both Spear and Shield: now dreadful deeds 990
　　Might have ensu'd, nor onely Paradise
　　In this commotion, but the Starrie Cope
　　Of Heav'n perhaps, or all the Elements
　　At least had gon to rack, disturbd and torne
　　With violence of this conflict, had not soon
　　Th' Eternal to prevent such horrid fray
　　Hung forth in Heav'n his golden Scales, yet seen
　　Betwixt Astrea and the Scorpion signe,
　　Wherein all things created first he weighd,
　　The pendulous round Earth with ballanc't Aire 1000
　　In counterpoise, now ponders all events,
　　Battels and Realms: in these he put two weights
　　The sequel each of parting and of fight;
　　The latter quick up flew, and kickt the beam;
　　Which Gabriel spying, thus bespake the Fiend.
　　Satan, I know thy strength, and thou knowst mine,
　　Neither our own but giv'n; what follie then
　　To boast what Arms can doe, since thine no more
　　Then Heav'n permits, nor mine, though doubld now
　　To trample thee as mire: for proof look up, 1010
　　And read thy Lot in yon celestial Sign
　　Where thou art weigh'd, & shown how light, how weak,
　　If thou resist. The Fiend lookt up and knew
　　His mounted scale aloft: nor more; but fled
　　Murmuring, and with him fled the shades of night.
　　
　　Notes:
　　Argument: promises to find him out] promises to find him 1674
　　627 walks] walk 1674.
　　928 The] Thy 1674.
　　
　　The End Of The Fourth Book.
　　
　　
　　
　　BOOK V.
　　
　　
　　THE ARGUMENT.
　　
　　Morning approach't, Eve relates to Adam her troublesome
　　dream: he likes it not, yet comforts her: They come forth to thir
　　day labours: Their Morning Hymn at the Door of their Bower.
　　God to render Man inexcusable sends Raphael to admonish him
　　of his obedience, of his free estate, of his enemy near at hand;
　　who he is, and why his enemy, and whatever else may avail
　　Adam to know. Raphael comes down to Paradise; his
　　appearance describ'd, his coming discern'd by Adam afar off
　　sitting at the door of his Bower; he goes out to meet him, brings
　　him to his lodge, entertains him with the choycest fruits of
　　Paradise got together by Eve; their discourse at Table: Raphael
　　performs his message, minds Adam of his state and of his
　　enemy; relates at Adams request who that enemy is, and how he
　　came to be so, beginning with his first revolt in Heaven and the
　　occasion thereof; how he drew his Legions after him to the
　　parts of the North, and there incited them to rebel with him,
　　perswading all but only Abdiel a Seraph, who in Argument
　　diswades and opposes him, then forsakes him.
　　
　　Now Morn her rosie steps in th' Eastern Clime
　　Advancing, sow'd the Earth with Orient Pearle,
　　When Adam wak't, so customd, for his sleep
　　Was Aerie light, from pure digestion bred,
　　And temperat vapors bland, which th' only sound
　　Of leaves and fuming rills, Aurora's fan,
　　Lightly dispers'd, and the shrill Matin Song
　　Of Birds on every bough; so much the more
　　His wonder was to find unwak'nd Eve
　　With Tresses discompos'd, and glowing Cheek, 10
　　As through unquiet rest: he on his side
　　Leaning half-rais'd, with looks of cordial Love
　　Hung over her enamour'd, and beheld
　　Beautie, which whether waking or asleep,
　　Shot forth peculiar Graces; then with voice
　　Milde, as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes,
　　Her hand soft touching, whisperd thus. Awake
　　My fairest, my espous'd, my latest found,
　　Heav'ns last best gift, my ever new delight,
　　Awake, the morning shines, and the fresh field 20
　　Calls us, we lose the prime, to mark how spring
　　Our tended Plants, how blows the Citron Grove,
　　What drops the Myrrhe, & what the balmie Reed,
　　How Nature paints her colours, how the Bee
　　Sits on the Bloom extracting liquid sweet.
　　Such whispering wak'd her, but with startl'd eye
　　On Adam, whom imbracing, thus she spake.
　　O Sole in whom my thoughts find all repose,
　　My Glorie, my Perfection, glad I see
　　Thy face, and Morn return'd, for I this Night, 30
　　Such night till this I never pass'd, have dream'd,
　　If dream'd, not as I oft am wont, of thee,
　　Works of day pass't, or morrows next designe,
　　But of offence and trouble, which my mind
　　Knew never till this irksom night; methought
　　Close at mine ear one call'd me forth to walk
　　With gentle voice, I thought it thine; it said,
　　Why sleepst thou Eve? now is the pleasant time,
　　The cool, the silent, save where silence yields
　　To the night-warbling Bird, that now awake 40
　　Tunes sweetest his love-labor'd song; now reignes
　　Full Orb'd the Moon, and with more pleasing light
　　Shadowie sets off the face of things; in vain,
　　If none regard; Heav'n wakes with all his eyes,
　　Whom to behold but thee, Natures desire,
　　In whose sight all things joy, with ravishment
　　Attracted by thy beauty still to gaze.
　　I rose as at thy call, but found thee not;
　　To find thee I directed then my walk;
　　And on, methought, alone I pass'd through ways 50
　　That brought me on a sudden to the Tree
　　Of interdicted Knowledge: fair it seem'd,
　　Much fairer to my Fancie then by day:
　　And as I wondring lookt, beside it stood
　　One shap'd and wing'd like one of those from Heav'n
　　By us oft seen; his dewie locks distill'd
　　Ambrosia; on that Tree he also gaz'd;
　　And O fair Plant, said he, with fruit surcharg'd,
　　Deigns none to ease thy load and taste thy sweet,
　　Nor God, nor Man; is Knowledge so despis'd? 60
　　Or envie, or what reserve forbids to taste?
　　Forbid who will, none shall from me withhold
　　Longer thy offerd good, why else set here?
　　This said he paus'd not, but with ventrous Arme
　　He pluckt, he tasted; mee damp horror chil'd
　　At such bold words voucht with a deed so bold:
　　But he thus overjoy'd, O Fruit Divine,
　　Sweet of thy self, but much more sweet thus cropt,
　　Forbidd'n here, it seems, as onely fit
　　For Gods, yet able to make Gods of Men: 70
　　And why not Gods of Men, since good, the more
　　Communicated, more abundant growes,
　　The Author not impair'd, but honourd more?
　　Here, happie Creature, fair Angelic Eve,
　　Partake thou also; happie though thou art,
　　Happier thou mayst be, worthier canst not be:
　　Taste this, and be henceforth among the Gods
　　Thy self a Goddess, not to Earth confind,
　　But somtimes in the Air, as wee, somtimes
　　Ascend to Heav'n, by merit thine, and see 80
　　What life the Gods live there, and such live thou.
　　So saying, he drew nigh, and to me held,
　　Even to my mouth of that same fruit held part
　　Which he had pluckt; the pleasant savourie smell
　　So quick'nd appetite, that I, methought,
　　Could not but taste. Forthwith up to the Clouds
　　With him I flew, and underneath beheld
　　The Earth outstretcht immense, a prospect wide
　　And various: wondring at my flight and change
　　To this high exaltation; suddenly 90
　　My Guide was gon, and I, me thought, sunk down,
　　And fell asleep; but O how glad I wak'd
　　To find this but a dream! Thus Eve her Night
　　Related, and thus Adam answerd sad.
　　Best Image of my self and dearer half,
　　The trouble of thy thoughts this night in sleep
　　Affects me equally; nor can I like
　　This uncouth dream, of evil sprung I fear;
　　Yet evil whence? in thee can harbour none,
　　Created pure. But know that in the Soule 100
　　Are many lesser Faculties that serve
　　Reason as chief; among these Fansie next
　　Her office holds; of all external things,
　　Which the five watchful Senses represent,
　　She forms Imaginations, Aerie shapes,
　　Which Reason joyning or disjoyning, frames
　　All what we affirm or what deny, and call
　　Our knowledge or opinion; then retires
　　Into her private Cell when Nature rests.
　　Oft in her absence mimic Fansie wakes 110
　　To imitate her; but misjoyning shapes,
　　Wilde work produces oft, and most in dreams,
　　Ill matching words and deeds long past or late.
　　Som such resemblances methinks I find
　　Of our last Eevnings talk, in this thy dream,
　　But with addition strange; yet be not sad.
　　Evil into the mind of God or Man
　　May come and go, so unapprov'd, and leave
　　No spot or blame behind: Which gives me hope
　　That what in sleep thou didst abhorr to dream, 120
　　Waking thou never wilt consent to do.
　　Be not disheart'nd then, nor cloud those looks
　　That wont to be more chearful and serene
　　Then when fair Morning first smiles on the World,
　　And let us to our fresh imployments rise
　　Among the Groves, the Fountains, and the Flours
　　That open now thir choicest bosom'd smells
　　Reservd from night, and kept for thee in store.
　　So cheard he his fair Spouse, and she was cheard,
　　But silently a gentle tear let fall 130
　　>From either eye, and wip'd them with her haire;
　　Two other precious drops that ready stood,
　　Each in thir chrystal sluce, hee ere they fell
　　Kiss'd as the gracious signs of sweet remorse
　　And pious awe, that feard to have offended.
　　So all was cleard, and to the Field they haste.
　　But first from under shadie arborous roof,
　　Soon as they forth were come to open sight
　　Of day-spring, and the Sun, who scarce up risen
　　With wheels yet hov'ring o're the Ocean brim, 140
　　Shot paralel to the earth his dewie ray,
　　Discovering in wide Lantskip all the East
　　Of Paradise and Edens happie Plains,
　　Lowly they bow'd adoring, and began
　　Thir Orisons, each Morning duly paid
　　In various style, for neither various style
　　Nor holy rapture wanted they to praise
　　Thir Maker, in fit strains pronounc't or sung
　　Unmeditated, such prompt eloquence
　　Flowd from thir lips, in Prose or numerous Verse, 150
　　More tuneable then needed Lute or Harp
　　To add more sweetness, and they thus began.
　　These are thy glorious works, Parent of good,
　　Almightie, thine this universal Frame,
　　Thus wondrous fair; thy self how wondrous then!
　　Unspeakable, who sitst above these Heavens
　　To us invisible or dimly seen
　　In these thy lowest works, yet these declare
　　Thy goodness beyond thought, and Power Divine:
　　Speak yee who best can tell, ye Sons of light, 160
　　Angels, for yee behold him, and with songs
　　And choral symphonies, Day without Night,
　　Circle his Throne rejoycing, yee in Heav'n,
　　On Earth joyn all yee Creatures to extoll
　　Him first, him last, him midst, and without end.
　　Fairest of Starrs, last in the train of Night,
　　If better thou belong not to the dawn,
　　Sure pledge of day, that crownst the smiling Morn
　　With thy bright Circlet, praise him in thy Spheare
　　While day arises, that sweet hour of Prime. 170
　　Thou Sun, of this great World both Eye and Soule,
　　Acknowledge him thy Greater, sound his praise
　　In thy eternal course, both when thou climb'st,
　　And when high Noon hast gaind, & when thou fallst.
　　Moon, that now meetst the orient Sun, now fli'st
　　With the fixt Starrs, fixt in thir Orb that flies,
　　And yee five other wandring Fires that move
　　In mystic Dance not without Song, resound
　　His praise, who out of Darkness call'd up Light.
　　Aire, and ye Elements the eldest birth 180
　　Of Natures Womb, that in quaternion run
　　Perpetual Circle, multiform; and mix
　　And nourish all things, let your ceasless change
　　Varie to our great Maker still new praise.
　　Ye Mists and Exhalations that now rise
　　>From Hill or steaming Lake, duskie or grey,
　　Till the Sun paint your fleecie skirts with Gold,
　　In honour to the Worlds great Author rise,
　　Whether to deck with Clouds the uncolourd skie,
　　Or wet the thirstie Earth with falling showers, 190
　　Rising or falling still advance his praise.
　　His praise ye Winds, that from four Quarters blow,
　　Breath soft or loud; and wave your tops, ye Pines,
　　With every Plant, in sign of Worship wave.
　　Fountains and yee, that warble, as ye flow,
　　Melodious murmurs, warbling tune his praise.
　　Joyn voices all ye living Souls, ye Birds,
　　That singing up to Heaven Gate ascend,
　　Bear on your wings and in your notes his praise;
　　Yee that in Waters glide, and yee that walk 200
　　The Earth, and stately tread, or lowly creep;
　　Witness if I be silent, Morn or Eeven,
　　To Hill, or Valley, Fountain, or fresh shade
　　Made vocal by my Song, and taught his praise.
　　Hail universal Lord, be bounteous still
　　To give us onely good; and if the night
　　Have gathered aught of evil or conceald,
　　Disperse it, as now light dispels the dark.
　　So pray'd they innocent, and to thir thoughts
　　Firm peace recoverd soon and wonted calm. 210
　　On to thir mornings rural work they haste
　　Among sweet dewes and flours; where any row
　　Of Fruit-trees overwoodie reachd too farr
　　Thir pamperd boughes, and needed hands to check
　　Fruitless imbraces: or they led the Vine
　　To wed her Elm; she spous'd about him twines
　　Her mariageable arms, and with her brings
　　Her dowr th' adopted Clusters, to adorn
　　His barren leaves. Them thus imploid beheld
　　With pittie Heav'ns high King, and to him call'd 220
　　Raphael, the sociable Spirit, that deign'd
　　To travel with Tobias, and secur'd
　　His marriage with the seaventimes-wedded Maid.
　　Raphael, said hee, thou hear'st what stir on Earth
　　Satan from Hell scap't through the darksom Gulf
　　Hath raisd in Paradise, and how disturbd
　　This night the human pair, how he designes
　　In them at once to ruin all mankind.
　　Go therefore, half this day as friend with friend
　　Converse with Adam, in what Bowre or shade 230
　　Thou find'st him from the heat of Noon retir'd,
　　To respit his day-labour with repast,
　　Or with repose; and such discourse bring on,
　　As may advise him of his happie state,
　　Happiness in his power left free to will,
　　Left to his own free Will, his Will though free,
　　Yet mutable; whence warne him to beware
　　He swerve not too secure: tell him withall
　　His danger, and from whom, what enemie
　　Late falln himself from Heav'n, is plotting now 240
　　The fall of others from like state of bliss;
　　By violence, no, for that shall be withstood,
　　But by deceit and lies; this let him know,
　　Least wilfully transgressing he pretend
　　Surprisal, unadmonisht, unforewarnd.
　　So spake th' Eternal Father, and fulfilld
　　All Justice: nor delaid the winged Saint
　　After his charge receivd, but from among
　　Thousand Celestial Ardors, where he stood
　　Vaild with his gorgeous wings, up springing light 250
　　Flew through the midst of Heav'n; th' angelic Quires
　　On each hand parting, to his speed gave way
　　Through all th' Empyreal road; till at the Gate
　　Of Heav'n arriv'd, the gate self-opend wide
　　On golden Hinges turning, as by work
　　Divine the sov'ran Architect had fram'd.
　　>From hence, no cloud, or, to obstruct his sight,
　　Starr interpos'd, however small he sees,
　　Not unconform to other shining Globes,
　　Earth and the Gard'n of God, with Cedars crownd 260
　　Above all Hills. As when by night the Glass
　　Of Galileo, less assur'd, observes
　　Imagind Lands and Regions in the Moon:
　　Or Pilot from amidst the Cyclades
　　Delos or Samos first appeering kenns
　　A cloudy spot. Down thither prone in flight
　　He speeds, and through the vast Ethereal Skie
　　Sailes between worlds & worlds, with steddie wing
　　Now on the polar windes, then with quick Fann
　　Winnows the buxom Air; till within soare 270
　　Of Towring Eagles, to all the Fowles he seems
　　A Phoenix, gaz'd by all, as that sole Bird
　　When to enshrine his reliques in the Sun's
　　Bright Temple, to Aegyptian Theb's he flies.
　　At once on th' Eastern cliff of Paradise
　　He lights, and to his proper shape returns
　　A Seraph wingd; six wings he wore, to shade
　　His lineaments Divine; the pair that clad
　　Each shoulder broad, came mantling o're his brest
　　With regal Ornament; the middle pair 280
　　Girt like a Starrie Zone his waste, and round
　　Skirted his loines and thighes with downie Gold
　　And colours dipt in Heav'n; the third his feet
　　Shaddowd from either heele with featherd maile
　　Skie-tinctur'd grain. Like Maia's son he stood,
　　And shook his Plumes, that Heav'nly fragrance filld
　　The circuit wide. Strait knew him all the bands
　　Of Angels under watch; and to his state,
　　And to his message high in honour rise;
　　For on som message high they guessd him bound. 290
　　Thir glittering Tents he passd, and now is come
　　Into the blissful field, through Groves of Myrrhe,
　　And flouring Odours, Cassia, Nard, and Balme;
　　A Wilderness of sweets; for Nature here
　　Wantond as in her prime, and plaid at will
　　Her Virgin Fancies, pouring forth more sweet,
　　Wilde above rule or art; enormous bliss.
　　Him through the spicie Forrest onward com
　　Adam discernd, as in the dore he sat
　　Of his coole Bowre, while now the mounted Sun 300
　　Shot down direct his fervid Raies, to warme
　　Earths inmost womb, more warmth then Adam need;
　　And Eve within, due at her hour prepar'd
　　For dinner savourie fruits, of taste to please
　　True appetite, and not disrelish thirst
　　Of nectarous draughts between, from milkie stream,
　　Berrie or Grape: to whom thus Adam call'd.
　　Haste hither Eve, and worth thy sight behold
　　Eastward among those Trees, what glorious shape
　　Comes this way moving; seems another Morn 310
　　Ris'n on mid-noon; som great behest from Heav'n
　　To us perhaps he brings, and will voutsafe
　　This day to be our Guest. But goe with speed,
　　And what thy stores contain, bring forth and poure
　　Abundance, fit to honour and receive
　　Our Heav'nly stranger; well we may afford
　　Our givers thir own gifts, and large bestow
　　>From large bestowd, where Nature multiplies
　　Her fertil growth, and by disburd'ning grows
　　More fruitful, which instructs us not to spare. 320
　　To whom thus Eve. Adam, earths hallowd mould,
　　Of God inspir'd, small store will serve, where store,
　　All seasons, ripe for use hangs on the stalk;
　　Save what by frugal storing firmness gains
　　To nourish, and superfluous moist consumes:
　　But I will haste and from each bough and break,
　　Each Plant & juciest Gourd will pluck such choice
　　To entertain our Angel guest, as hee
　　Beholding shall confess that here on Earth
　　God hath dispenst his bounties as in Heav'n. 330
　　So saying, with dispatchful looks in haste
　　She turns, on hospitable thoughts intent
　　What choice to chuse for delicacie best,
　　What order, so contriv'd as not to mix
　　Tastes, not well joynd, inelegant, but bring
　　Taste after taste upheld with kindliest change,
　　Bestirs her then, and from each tender stalk
　　Whatever Earth all-bearing Mother yeilds
　　In India East or West, or middle shoare
　　In Pontus or the Punic Coast, or where 340
　　Alcinous reign'd, fruit of all kindes, in coate,
　　Rough, or smooth rin'd, or bearded husk, or shell
　　She gathers, Tribute large, and on the board
　　Heaps with unsparing hand; for drink the Grape
　　She crushes, inoffensive moust, and meathes
　　>From many a berrie, and from sweet kernels prest
　　She tempers dulcet creams, nor these to hold
　　Wants her fit vessels pure, then strews the ground
　　With Rose and Odours from the shrub unfum'd.
　　Mean while our Primitive great Sire, to meet 350
　　His god-like Guest, walks forth, without more train
　　Accompani'd then with his own compleat
　　Perfections, in himself was all his state,
　　More solemn then the tedious pomp that waits
　　On Princes, when thir rich Retinue long
　　Of Horses led, and Grooms besmeard with Gold
　　Dazles the croud, and sets them all agape.
　　Neerer his presence Adam though not awd,
　　Yet with submiss approach and reverence meek,
　　As to a superior Nature, bowing low, 360
　　Thus said. Native of Heav'n, for other place
　　None can then Heav'n such glorious shape contain;
　　Since by descending from the Thrones above,
　　Those happie places thou hast deignd a while
　　To want, and honour these, voutsafe with us
　　Two onely, who yet by sov'ran gift possess
　　This spacious ground, in yonder shadie Bowre
　　To rest, and what the Garden choicest bears
　　To sit and taste, till this meridian heat
　　Be over, and the Sun more coole decline. 370
　　Whom thus the Angelic Vertue answerd milde.
　　Adam, I therefore came, nor art thou such
　　Created, or such place hast here to dwell,
　　As may not oft invite, though Spirits of Heav'n
　　To visit thee; lead on then where thy Bowre
　　Oreshades; for these mid-hours, till Eevning rise
　　I have at will. So to the Silvan Lodge
　　They came, that like Pomona's Arbour smil'd
　　With flourets deck't and fragrant smells; but Eve
　　Undeckt, save with her self more lovely fair 380
　　Then Wood-Nymph, or the fairest Goddess feign'd
　　Of three that in Mount Ida naked strove,
　　Stood to entertain her guest from Heav'n; no vaile
　　Shee needed, Vertue-proof, no thought infirme
　　Alterd her cheek. On whom the Angel Haile
　　Bestowd, the holy salutation us'd
　　Long after to blest Marie, second Eve.
　　Haile Mother of Mankind, whose fruitful Womb
　　Shall fill the World more numerous with thy Sons
　　Then with these various fruits the Trees of God 390
　　Have heap'd this Table. Rais'd of grassie terf
　　Thir Table was, and mossie seats had round,
　　And on her ample Square from side to side
　　All Autumn pil'd, though Spring and Autumn here
　　Danc'd hand in hand. A while discourse they hold;
　　No fear lest Dinner coole; when thus began
　　Our Authour. Heav'nly stranger, please to taste
　　These bounties which our Nourisher, from whom
　　All perfet good unmeasur'd out, descends,
　　To us for food and for delight hath caus'd 400
　　The Earth to yeild; unsavourie food perhaps
　　To spiritual Natures; only this I know,
　　That one Celestial Father gives to all.
　　To whom the Angel. Therefore what he gives
　　(Whose praise be ever sung) to man in part
　　Spiritual, may of purest Spirits be found
　　No ingrateful food: and food alike those pure
　　Intelligential substances require
　　As doth your Rational; and both contain
　　Within them every lower facultie 410
　　Of sense, whereby they hear, see, smell, touch, taste,
　　Tasting concoct, digest, assimilate,
　　And corporeal to incorporeal turn.
　　For know, whatever was created, needs
　　To be sustaind and fed; of Elements
　　The grosser feeds the purer, earth the sea,
　　Earth and the Sea feed Air, the Air those Fires
　　Ethereal, and as lowest first the Moon;
　　Whence in her visage round those spots, unpurg'd
　　Vapours not yet into her substance turnd. 420
　　Nor doth the Moon no nourishment exhale
　　>From her moist Continent to higher Orbes.
　　The Sun that light imparts to all, receives
　　>From all his alimental recompence
　　In humid exhalations, and at Even
　　Sups with the Ocean: though in Heav'n the Trees
　　Of life ambrosial frutage bear, and vines
　　Yeild Nectar, though from off the boughs each Morn
　　We brush mellifluous Dewes, and find the ground
　　Cover'd with pearly grain: yet God hath here 430
　　Varied his bounty so with new delights,
　　As may compare with Heaven; and to taste
　　Think not I shall be nice. So down they sat,
　　And to thir viands fell, nor seemingly
　　The Angel, nor in mist, the common gloss
　　Of Theologians, but with keen dispatch
　　Of real hunger, and concoctive heate
　　To transubstantiate; what redounds, transpires
　　Through Spirits with ease; nor wonder; if by fire
　　Of sooty coal the Empiric Alchimist 440
　　Can turn, or holds it possible to turn
　　Metals of drossiest Ore to perfet Gold
　　As from the Mine. Mean while at Table Eve
　　Ministerd naked, and thir flowing cups
　　With pleasant liquors crown'd: O innocence
　　Deserving Paradise! if ever, then,
　　Then had the Sons of God excuse to have bin
　　Enamour'd at that sight; but in those hearts
　　Love unlibidinous reign'd, nor jealousie
　　Was understood, the injur'd Lovers Hell. 450
　　Thus when with meats & drinks they had suffic'd,
　　Not burd'nd Nature, sudden mind arose
　　In Adam, not to let th' occasion pass
　　Given him by this great Conference to know
　　Of things above his World, and of thir being
　　Who dwell in Heav'n, whose excellence he saw
　　Transcend his own so farr, whose radiant forms
　　Divine effulgence, whose high Power so far
　　Exceeded human, and his wary speech
　　Thus to th' Empyreal Minister he fram'd. 460
　　Inhabitant with God, now know I well
　　Thy favour, in this honour done to man,
　　Under whose lowly roof thou hast voutsaf't
　　To enter, and these earthly fruits to taste,
　　Food not of Angels, yet accepted so,
　　As that more willingly thou couldst not seem
　　At Heav'ns high feasts to have fed: yet what compare?
　　To whom the winged Hierarch repli'd.
　　O Adam, one Almightie is, from whom
　　All things proceed, and up to him return, 470
　　If not deprav'd from good, created all
　　Such to perfection, one first matter all,
　　Indu'd with various forms, various degrees
　　Of substance, and in things that live, of life;
　　But more refin'd, more spiritous, and pure,
　　As neerer to him plac't or neerer tending
　　Each in thir several active Sphears assignd,
　　Till body up to spirit work, in bounds
　　Proportiond to each kind. So from the root
　　Springs lighter the green stalk, from thence the leaves 480
　　More aerie, last the bright consummate floure
　　Spirits odorous breathes: flours and thir fruit
　　Mans nourishment, by gradual scale sublim'd
　　To vital Spirits aspire, to animal,
　　To intellectual, give both life and sense,
　　Fansie and understanding, whence the soule
　　Reason receives, and reason is her being,
　　Discursive, or Intuitive; discourse
　　Is oftest yours, the latter most is ours,
　　Differing but in degree, of kind the same. 490
　　Wonder not then, what God for you saw good
　　If I refuse not, but convert, as you,
　　To proper substance; time may come when men
　　With Angels may participate, and find
　　No inconvenient Diet, nor too light Fare:
　　And from these corporal nutriments perhaps
　　Your bodies may at last turn all to Spirit
　　Improv'd by tract of time, and wingd ascend
　　Ethereal, as wee, or may at choice
　　Here or in Heav'nly Paradises dwell; 500
　　If ye be found obedient, and retain
　　Unalterably firm his love entire
　　Whose progenie you are. Mean while enjoy
　　Your fill what happiness this happie state
　　Can comprehend, incapable of more.
　　To whom the Patriarch of mankind repli'd.
　　O favourable spirit, propitious guest,
　　Well hast thou taught the way that might direct
　　Our knowledge, and the scale of Nature set
　　>From center to circumference, whereon 510
　　In contemplation of created things
　　By steps we may ascend to God. But say,
　　What meant that caution joind, If Ye Be Found
　　Obedient? can wee want obedience then
　　To him, or possibly his love desert
　　Who formd us from the dust, and plac'd us here
　　Full to the utmost measure of what bliss
　　Human desires can seek or apprehend?
　　To whom the Angel. Son of Heav'n and Earth,
　　Attend: That thou art happie, owe to God; 520
　　That thou continu'st such, owe to thy self,
　　That is, to thy obedience; therein stand.
　　This was that caution giv'n thee; be advis'd.
　　God made thee perfet, not immutable;
　　And good he made thee, but to persevere
　　He left it in thy power, ordaind thy will
　　By nature free, not over-rul'd by Fate
　　Inextricable, or strict necessity;
　　Our voluntarie service he requires,
　　Not our necessitated, such with him 530
　　Findes no acceptance, nor can find, for how
　　Can hearts, not free, be tri'd whether they serve
　　Willing or no, who will but what they must
　　By Destinie, and can no other choose?
　　My self and all th' Angelic Host that stand
　　In sight of God enthron'd, our happie state
　　Hold, as you yours, while our obedience holds;
　　On other surety none; freely we serve.
　　Because wee freely love, as in our will
　　To love or not; in this we stand or fall: 540
　　And som are fall'n, to disobedience fall'n,
　　And so from Heav'n to deepest Hell; O fall
　　>From what high state of bliss into what woe!
　　To whom our great Progenitor. Thy words
　　Attentive, and with more delighted eare
　　Divine instructer, I have heard, then when
　　Cherubic Songs by night from neighbouring Hills
　　Aereal Music send: nor knew I not
　　To be both will and deed created free;
　　Yet that we never shall forget to love 550
　　Our maker, and obey him whose command
　　Single, is yet so just, my constant thoughts
　　Assur'd me and still assure: though what thou tellst
　　Hath past in Heav'n, som doubt within me move,
　　But more desire to hear, if thou consent,
　　The full relation, which must needs be strange,
　　Worthy of Sacred silence to be heard;
　　And we have yet large day, for scarce the Sun
　　Hath finisht half his journey, and scarce begins
　　His other half in the great Zone of Heav'n. 560
　　Thus Adam made request, and Raphael
　　After short pause assenting, thus began.
　　High matter thou injoinst me, O prime of men,
　　Sad task and hard, for how shall I relate
　　To human sense th' invisible exploits
　　Of warring Spirits; how without remorse
　　The ruin of so many glorious once
　　And perfet while they stood; how last unfould
　　The secrets of another world, perhaps
　　Not lawful to reveal? yet for thy good 570
　　This is dispenc't, and what surmounts the reach
　　Of human sense, I shall delineate so,
　　By lik'ning spiritual to corporal forms,
　　As may express them best, though what if Earth
　　Be but the shaddow of Heav'n, and things therein
　　Each to other like, more then on earth is thought?
　　As yet this world was not, and Chaos wilde
　　Reignd where these Heav'ns now rowl, where Earth now rests
　　Upon her Center pois'd, when on a day
　　(For Time, though in Eternitie, appli'd 580
　　To motion, measures all things durable
　　By present, past, and future) on such day
　　As Heav'ns great Year brings forth, th' Empyreal Host
　　Of Angels by Imperial summons call'd,
　　Innumerable before th' Almighties Throne
　　Forthwith from all the ends of Heav'n appeerd
　　Under thir Hierarchs in orders bright
　　Ten thousand thousand Ensignes high advanc'd,
　　Standards, and Gonfalons twixt Van and Reare
　　Streame in the Aire, and for distinction serve 590
　　Of Hierarchies, of Orders, and Degrees;
　　Or in thir glittering Tissues bear imblaz'd
　　Holy Memorials, acts of Zeale and Love
　　Recorded eminent. Thus when in Orbes
　　Of circuit inexpressible they stood,
　　Orb within Orb, the Father infinite,
　　By whom in bliss imbosom'd sat the Son,
　　Amidst as from a flaming Mount, whose top
　　Brightness had made invisible, thus spake.
　　Hear all ye Angels, Progenie of Light, 600
　　Thrones, Dominations, Princedoms, Vertues, Powers,
　　Hear my Decree, which unrevok't shall stand.
　　This day I have begot whom I declare
　　My onely Son, and on this holy Hill
　　Him have anointed, whom ye now behold
　　At my right hand; your Head I him appoint;
　　And by my Self have sworn to him shall bow
　　All knees in Heav'n, and shall confess him Lord:
　　Under his great Vice-gerent Reign abide
　　United as one individual Soule 610
　　For ever happie: him who disobeyes
　　Mee disobeyes, breaks union, and that day
　　Cast out from God and blessed vision, falls
　　Into utter darkness, deep ingulft, his place
　　Ordaind without redemption, without end.
　　So spake th' Omnipotent, and with his words
　　All seemd well pleas'd, all seem'd, but were not all.
　　That day, as other solem dayes, they spent
　　In song and dance about the sacred Hill,
　　Mystical dance, which yonder starrie Spheare 620
　　Of Planets and of fixt in all her Wheeles
　　Resembles nearest, mazes intricate,
　　Eccentric, intervolv'd, yet regular
　　Then most, when most irregular they seem:
　　And in thir motions harmonie Divine
　　So smooths her charming tones, that Gods own ear
　　Listens delighted. Eevning approachd
　　(For we have also our Eevning and our Morn,
　　We ours for change delectable, not need)
　　Forthwith from dance to sweet repast they turn 630
　　Desirous, all in Circles as they stood,
　　Tables are set, and on a sudden pil'd
　　With Angels Food, and rubied Nectar flows:
　　In Pearl, in Diamond, and massie Gold,
　　Fruit of delicious Vines, the growth of Heav'n.
　　They eat, they drink, and with refection sweet
　　Are fill'd, before th' all bounteous King, who showrd
　　With copious hand, rejoycing in thir joy.
　　Now when ambrosial Night with Clouds exhal'd
　　>From that high mount of God, whence light & shade 640
　　Spring both, the face of brightest Heav'n had changd
　　To grateful Twilight (for Night comes not there
　　In darker veile) and roseat Dews dispos'd
　　All but the unsleeping eyes of God to rest,
　　Wide over all the Plain, and wider farr
　　Then all this globous Earth in Plain outspred,
　　(Such are the Courts of God) Th' Angelic throng
　　Disperst in Bands and Files thir Camp extend
　　By living Streams among the Trees of Life,
　　Pavilions numberless, and sudden reard, 650
　　Celestial Tabernacles, where they slept
　　Fannd with coole Winds, save those who in thir course
　　Melodious Hymns about the sovran Throne
　　Alternate all night long: but not so wak'd
　　Satan, so call him now, his former name
　　Is heard no more Heav'n; he of the first,
　　If not the first Arch-Angel, great in Power,
　　In favour and praeeminence, yet fraught
　　With envie against the Son of God, that day
　　Honourd by his great Father, and proclaimd 660
　　Messiah King anointed, could not beare
　　Through pride that sight, and thought himself impaird.
　　Deep malice thence conceiving & disdain,
　　Soon as midnight brought on the duskie houre
　　Friendliest to sleep and silence, he resolv'd
　　With all his Legions to dislodge, and leave
　　Unworshipt, unobey'd the Throne supream
　　Contemptuous, and his next subordinate
　　Awak'ning, thus to him in secret spake.
　　Sleepst thou Companion dear, what sleep can close 670
　　Thy eye-lids? and remembrest what Decree
　　Of yesterday, so late hath past the lips
　　Of Heav'ns Almightie. Thou to me thy thoughts
　　Wast wont, I mine to thee was wont to impart;
　　Both waking we were one; how then can now
　　Thy sleep dissent? new Laws thou seest impos'd;
　　New Laws from him who reigns, new minds may raise
　　In us who serve, new Counsels, to debate
　　What doubtful may ensue, more in this place
　　To utter is not safe. Assemble thou 680
　　Of all those Myriads which we lead the chief;
　　Tell them that by command, ere yet dim Night
　　Her shadowie Cloud withdraws, I am to haste,
　　And all who under me thir Banners wave,
　　Homeward with flying march where we possess
　　The Quarters of the North, there to prepare
　　Fit entertainment to receive our King
　　The great Messiah, and his new commands,
　　Who speedily through all the Hierarchies
　　Intends to pass triumphant, and give Laws. 690
　　So spake the false Arch-Angel, and infus'd
　　Bad influence into th' unwarie brest
　　Of his Associate; hee together calls,
　　Or several one by one, the Regent Powers,
　　Under him Regent, tells, as he was taught,
　　That the most High commanding, now ere Night,
　　Now ere dim Night had disincumberd Heav'n,
　　The great Hierarchal Standard was to move;
　　Tells the suggested cause, and casts between
　　Ambiguous words and jealousies, to sound 700
　　Or taint integritie; but all obey'd
　　The wonted signal, and superior voice
　　Of thir great Potentate; for great indeed
　　His name, and high was his degree in Heav'n;
　　His count'nance, as the Morning Starr that guides
　　The starrie flock, allur'd them, and with lyes
　　Drew after him the third part of Heav'ns Host:
　　Mean while th' Eternal eye, whose sight discernes
　　Abstrusest thoughts, from forth his holy Mount
　　And from within the golden Lamps that burne 710
　　Nightly before him, saw without thir light
　　Rebellion rising, saw in whom, how spred
　　Among the sons of Morn, what multitudes
　　Were banded to oppose his high Decree;
　　And smiling to his onely Son thus said.
　　Son, thou in whom my glory I behold
　　In full resplendence, Heir of all my might,
　　Neerly it now concernes us to be sure
　　Of our Omnipotence, and with what Arms
　　We mean to hold what anciently we claim 720
　　Of Deitie or Empire, such a foe
　　Is rising, who intends to erect his Throne
　　Equal to ours, throughout the spacious North;
　　Nor so content, hath in his thought to trie
　　In battel, what our Power is, or our right.
　　Let us advise, and to this hazard draw
　　With speed what force is left, and all imploy
　　In our defence, lest unawares we lose
　　This our high place, our Sanctuarie, our Hill.
　　To whom the Son with calm aspect and cleer 730
　　Light'ning Divine, ineffable, serene,
　　Made answer. Mightie Father, thou thy foes
　　Justly hast in derision, and secure
　　Laugh'st at thir vain designes and tumults vain,
　　Matter to mee of Glory, whom thir hate
　　Illustrates, when they see all Regal Power
　　Giv'n me to quell thir pride, and in event
　　Know whether I be dextrous to subdue
　　Thy Rebels, or be found the worst in Heav'n.
　　So spake the Son, but Satan with his Powers 740
　　Farr was advanc't on winged speed, an Host
　　Innumerable as the Starrs of Night,
　　Or Starrs of Morning, Dew-drops, which the Sun
　　Impearls on every leaf and every flouer.
　　Regions they pass'd, the mightie Regencies
　　Of Seraphim and Potentates and Thrones
　　In thir triple Degrees, Regions to which
　　All thy Dominion, Adam, is no more
　　Then what this Garden is to all the Earth,
　　And all the Sea, from one entire globose 750
　　Stretcht into Longitude; which having pass'd
　　At length into the limits of the North
　　They came, and Satan to his Royal seat
　　High on a Hill, far blazing, as a Mount
　　Rais'd on a Mount, with Pyramids and Towrs
　　>From Diamond Quarries hew'n, & Rocks of Gold,
　　The Palace of great Lucifer, (so call
　　That Structure in the Dialect of men
　　Interpreted) which not long after, hee
　　Affecting all equality with God, 760
　　In imitation of that Mount whereon
　　Messiah was declar'd in sight of Heav'n,
　　The Mountain of the Congregation call'd;
　　For thither he assembl'd all his Train,
　　Pretending so commanded to consult
　　About the great reception of thir King,
　　Thither to come, and with calumnious Art
　　Of counterfeted truth thus held thir ears.
　　Thrones, Dominations, Princedomes, Vertues, Powers,
　　If these magnific Titles yet remain 770
　　Not meerly titular, since by Decree
　　Another now hath to himself ingross't
　　All Power, and us eclipst under the name
　　Of King anointed, for whom all this haste
　　Of midnight march, and hurried meeting here,
　　This onely to consult how we may best
　　With what may be devis'd of honours new
　　Receive him coming to receive from us
　　Knee-tribute yet unpaid, prostration vile,
　　Too much to one, but double how endur'd, 780
　　To one and to his image now proclaim'd?
　　But what if better counsels might erect
　　Our minds and teach us to cast off this Yoke?
　　Will ye submit your necks, and chuse to bend
　　The supple knee? ye will not, if I trust
　　To know ye right, or if ye know your selves
　　Natives and Sons of Heav'n possest before
　　By none, and if not equal all, yet free,
　　Equally free; for Orders and Degrees
　　Jarr not with liberty, but well consist. 790
　　Who can in reason then or right assume
　　Monarchie over such as live by right
　　His equals, if in power and splendor less,
　　In freedome equal? or can introduce
　　Law and Edict on us, who without law
　　Erre not, much less for this to be our Lord,
　　And look for adoration to th' abuse
　　Of those Imperial Titles which assert
　　Our being ordain'd to govern, not to serve?
　　Thus farr his bold discourse without controule 800
　　Had audience, when among the Seraphim
　　Abdiel, then whom none with more zeale ador'd
　　The Deitie, and divine commands obei'd,
　　Stood up, and in a flame of zeale severe
　　The current of his fury thus oppos'd.
　　O argument blasphemous, false and proud!
　　Words which no eare ever to hear in Heav'n
　　Expected, least of all from thee, ingrate
　　In place thy self so high above thy Peeres.
　　Canst thou with impious obloquie condemne 810
　　The just Decree of God, pronounc't and sworn,
　　That to his only Son by right endu'd
　　With Regal Scepter, every Soule in Heav'n
　　Shall bend the knee, and in that honour due
　　Confess him rightful King? unjust thou saist
　　Flatly unjust, to binde with Laws the free,
　　And equal over equals to let Reigne,
　　One over all with unsucceeded power.
　　Shalt thou give Law to God, shalt thou dispute
　　With him the points of libertie, who made 820
　　Thee what thou art, & formd the Pow'rs of Heav'n
　　Such as he pleasd, and circumscrib'd thir being?
　　Yet by experience taught we know how good,
　　And of our good, and of our dignitie
　　How provident he is, how farr from thought
　　To make us less, bent rather to exalt
　　Our happie state under one Head more neer
　　United. But to grant it thee unjust,
　　That equal over equals Monarch Reigne:
　　Thy self though great & glorious dost thou count, 830
　　Or all Angelic Nature joind in one,
　　Equal to him begotten Son, by whom
　　As by his Word the mighty Father made
　　All things, ev'n thee, and all the Spirits of Heav'n
　　By him created in thir bright degrees,
　　Crownd them with Glory, & to thir Glory nam'd
　　Thrones, Dominations, Princedoms, Vertues, Powers
　　Essential Powers, nor by his Reign obscur'd,
　　But more illustrious made, since he the Head
　　One of our number thus reduc't becomes, 840
　　His Laws our Laws, all honour to him done
　　Returns our own. Cease then this impious rage,
　　And tempt not these; but hast'n to appease
　　Th' incensed Father, and th' incensed Son,
　　While Pardon may be found in time besought.
　　So spake the fervent Angel, but his zeale
　　None seconded, as out of season judg'd,
　　Or singular and rash, whereat rejoic'd
　　Th' Apostat, and more haughty thus repli'd.
　　That we were formd then saist thou? & the work 850
　　Of secondarie hands, by task transferd
　　>From Father to his Son? strange point and new!
　　Doctrin which we would know whence learnt: who saw
　　When this creation was? rememberst thou
　　Thy making, while the Maker gave thee being?
　　We know no time when we were not as now;
　　Know none before us, self-begot, self-rais'd
　　By our own quick'ning power, when fatal course
　　Had circl'd his full Orbe, the birth mature
　　Of this our native Heav'n, Ethereal Sons. 860
　　Our puissance is our own, our own right hand
　　Shall teach us highest deeds, by proof to try
　　Who is our equal: then thou shalt behold
　　Whether by supplication we intend
　　Address, and to begirt th' Almighty Throne
　　Beseeching or besieging. This report,
　　These tidings carrie to th' anointed King;
　　And fly, ere evil intercept thy flight.
　　He said, and as the sound of waters deep
　　Hoarce murmur echo'd to his words applause 870
　　Through the infinite Host, nor less for that
　　The flaming Seraph fearless, though alone
　　Encompass'd round with foes, thus answerd bold.
　　O alienate from God, O spirit accurst,
　　Forsak'n of all good; I see thy fall
　　Determind, and thy hapless crew involv'd
　　In this perfidious fraud, contagion spred
　　Both of thy crime and punishment: henceforth
　　No more be troubl'd how to quit the yoke
　　Of Gods Messiah; those indulgent Laws 880
　　Will not be now voutsaf't, other Decrees
　　Against thee are gon forth without recall;
　　That Golden Scepter which thou didst reject
　　Is now an Iron Rod to bruise and breake
　　Thy disobedience. Well thou didst advise,
　　Yet not for thy advise or threats I fly
　　These wicked Tents devoted, least the wrauth
　　Impendent, raging into sudden flame
　　Distinguish not: for soon expect to feel
　　His Thunder on thy head, devouring fire. 890
　　Then who created thee lamenting learne,
　　When who can uncreate thee thou shalt know.
　　So spake the Seraph Abdiel faithful found,
　　Among the faithless, faithful only hee;
　　Among innumerable false, unmov'd,
　　Unshak'n, unseduc'd, unterrifi'd
　　His Loyaltie he kept, his Love, his Zeale;
　　Nor number, nor example with him wrought
　　To swerve from truth, or change his constant mind
　　Though single. From amidst them forth he passd, 900
　　Long way through hostile scorn, which he susteind
　　Superior, nor of violence fear'd aught;
　　And with retorted scorn his back he turn'd
　　On those proud Towrs to swift destruction doom'd.
　　
　　Notes:
　　627: Eevning approachd] Eevning now approachd 1674
　　636-639: On flours repos'd, and with fresh flourets crown'd
　　 They eate, they drink, and in communion sweet
　　 Quaff immortalitie and joy, secure
　　 Of surfet where full measure onely bounds
　　 Excess, before th'all bounteous King, who showrd 1674.
　　
　　The End Of The Fifth Book.
　　
　　
　　
　　BOOK VI.
　　
　　
　　THE ARGUMENT.
　　
　　Raphael continues to relate how Michael and Gabriel were sent
　　forth to Battel against Satan and his Angels. The first Fight
　　describ'd: Satan and his Powers retire under Night: he calls a
　　Councel, invents devilish Engines, which in the second dayes
　　Fight put Michael and his Angels to some disorder; But they at
　　length pulling up Mountains overwhelm'd both the force and
　　Machins of Satan: Yet the Tumult not so ending, God on the
　　third day sends Messiah his Son, for whom he had reserv'd the
　　glory of that Victory. Hee in the Power of his Father coming to
　　the place, and causing all his Legions to stand still on either
　　side, with his Chariot and Thunder driving into the midst of his
　　Enemies, pursues them unable to resist towards the wall of
　　Heaven; which opening, they leap down with horror and
　　confusion into the place of punishment prepar'd for them in the
　　Deep: Messiah returns with triumph to his Father.
　　
　　All night the dreadless Angel unpursu'd
　　Through Heav'ns wide Champain held his way, till Morn,
　　Wak't by the circling Hours, with rosie hand
　　Unbarr'd the gates of Light. There is a Cave
　　Within the Mount of God, fast by his Throne,
　　Where light and darkness in perpetual round
　　Lodge and dislodge by turns, which makes through Heav'n
　　Grateful vicissitude, like Day and Night;
　　Light issues forth, and at the other dore
　　Obsequious darkness enters, till her houre 10
　　To veile the Heav'n, though darkness there might well
　　Seem twilight here; and now went forth the Morn
　　Such as in highest Heav'n, arrayd in Gold
　　Empyreal, from before her vanisht Night,
　　Shot through with orient Beams: when all the Plain
　　Coverd with thick embatteld Squadrons bright,
　　Chariots and flaming Armes, and fierie Steeds
　　Reflecting blaze on blaze, first met his view:
　　Warr he perceav'd, warr in procinct, and found
　　Already known what he for news had thought 20
　　To have reported: gladly then he mixt
　　Among those friendly Powers who him receav'd
　　With joy and acclamations loud, that one
　　That of so many Myriads fall'n, yet one
　　Returnd not lost: On to the sacred hill
　　They led him high applauded, and present
　　Before the seat supream; from whence a voice
　　>From midst a Golden Cloud thus milde was heard.
　　Servant of God, well done, well hast thou fought
　　The better fight, who single hast maintaind 30
　　Against revolted multitudes the Cause
　　Of Truth, in word mightier then they in Armes;
　　And for the testimonie of Truth hast born
　　Universal reproach, far worse to beare
　　Then violence: for this was all thy care
　　To stand approv'd in sight of God, though Worlds
　　Judg'd thee perverse: the easier conquest now
　　Remains thee, aided by this host of friends,
　　Back on thy foes more glorious to return
　　Then scornd thou didst depart, and to subdue 40
　　By force, who reason for thir Law refuse,
　　Right reason for thir Law, and for thir King
　　Messiah, who by right of merit Reigns.
　　Goe Michael of Celestial Armies Prince,
　　And thou in Military prowess next
　　Gabriel, lead forth to Battel these my Sons
　　Invincible, lead forth my armed Saints
　　By Thousands and by Millions rang'd for fight;
　　Equal in number to that Godless crew
　　Rebellious, them with Fire and hostile Arms 50
　　Fearless assault, and to the brow of Heav'n
　　Pursuing drive them out from God and bliss,
　　Into thir place of punishment, the Gulf
　　Of Tartarus, which ready opens wide
　　His fiery Chaos to receave thir fall.
　　So spake the Sovran voice, and Clouds began
　　To darken all the Hill, and smoak to rowl
　　In duskie wreathes, reluctant flames, the signe
　　Of wrauth awak't: nor with less dread the loud
　　Ethereal Trumpet from on high gan blow: 60
　　At which command the Powers Militant,
　　That stood for Heav'n, in mighty Quadrate joyn'd
　　Of Union irresistible, mov'd on
　　In silence thir bright Legions, to the sound
　　Of instrumental Harmonie that breath'd
　　Heroic Ardor to advent'rous deeds
　　Under thir God-like Leaders, in the Cause
　　Of God and his Messiah. On they move
　　Indissolubly firm; nor obvious Hill,
　　Nor streit'ning Vale, nor Wood, nor Stream divides 70
　　Thir perfet ranks; for high above the ground
　　Thir march was, and the passive Air upbore
　　Thir nimble tread; as when the total kind
　　Of Birds in orderly array on wing
　　Came summond over Eden to receive
　　Thir names of thee; so over many a tract
　　Of Heav'n they march'd, and many a Province wide
　　Tenfold the length of this terrene: at last
　　Farr in th' Horizon to the North appeer'd
　　>From skirt to skirt a fierie Region, stretcht 80
　　In battailous aspect, and neerer view
　　Bristl'd with upright beams innumerable
　　Of rigid Spears, and Helmets throng'd, and Shields
　　Various, with boastful Argument portraid,
　　The banded Powers of Satan hasting on
　　With furious expedition; for they weend
　　That self same day by fight, or by surprize
　　To win the Mount of God, and on his Throne
　　To set the envier of his State, the proud
　　Aspirer, but thir thoughts prov'd fond and vain 90
　　In the mid way: though strange to us it seemd
　　At first, that Angel should with Angel warr,
　　And in fierce hosting meet, who wont to meet
　　So oft in Festivals of joy and love
　　Unanimous, as sons of one great Sire
　　Hymning th' Eternal Father: but the shout
　　Of Battel now began, and rushing sound
　　Of onset ended soon each milder thought.
　　High in the midst exalted as a God
　　Th' Apostat in his Sun-bright Chariot sate 100
　　Idol of Majestie Divine, enclos'd
　　With Flaming Cherubim, and golden Shields;
　　Then lighted from his gorgeous Throne, for now
　　'Twixt Host and Host but narrow space was left,
　　A dreadful interval, and Front to Front
　　Presented stood in terrible array
　　Of hideous length: before the cloudie Van,
　　On the rough edge of battel ere it joyn'd,
　　Satan with vast and haughtie strides advanc't,
　　Came towring, armd in Adamant and Gold; 110
　　Abdiel that sight endur'd not, where he stood
　　Among the mightiest, bent on highest deeds,
　　And thus his own undaunted heart explores.
　　O Heav'n! that such resemblance of the Highest
　　Should yet remain, where faith and realtie
　　Remain not; wherfore should not strength & might
　　There fail where Vertue fails, or weakest prove
　　Where boldest; though to sight unconquerable?
　　His puissance, trusting in th' Almightie's aide,
　　I mean to try, whose Reason I have tri'd 120
　　Unsound and false; nor is it aught but just,
　　That he who in debate of Truth hath won,
　　Should win in Arms, in both disputes alike
　　Victor; though brutish that contest and foule,
　　When Reason hath to deal with force, yet so
　　Most reason is that Reason overcome.
　　So pondering, and from his armed Peers
　　Forth stepping opposite, half way he met
　　His daring foe, at this prevention more
　　Incens't, and thus securely him defi'd. 130
　　Proud, art thou met? thy hope was to have reacht
　　The highth of thy aspiring unoppos'd,
　　The Throne of God unguarded, and his side
　　Abandond at the terror of thy Power
　　Or potent tongue; fool, not to think how vain
　　Against th' Omnipotent to rise in Arms;
　　Who out of smallest things could without end
　　Have rais'd incessant Armies to defeat
　　Thy folly; or with solitarie hand
　　Reaching beyond all limit, at one blow 140
　　Unaided could have finisht thee, and whelmd
　　Thy Legions under darkness; but thou seest
　　All are not of thy Train; there be who Faith
　　Prefer, and Pietie to God, though then
　　To thee not visible, when I alone
　　Seemd in thy World erroneous to dissent
　　>From all: my Sect thou seest, now learn too late
　　How few somtimes may know, when thousands err.
　　Whom the grand foe with scornful eye askance
　　Thus answerd. Ill for thee, but in wisht houre 150
　　Of my revenge, first sought for thou returnst
　　>From flight, seditious Angel, to receave
　　Thy merited reward, the first assay
　　Of this right hand provok't, since first that tongue
　　Inspir'd with contradiction durst oppose
　　A third part of the Gods, in Synod met
　　Thir Deities to assert, who while they feel
　　Vigour Divine within them, can allow
　　Omnipotence to none. But well thou comst
　　Before thy fellows, ambitious to win 160
　　>From me som Plume, that thy success may show
　　Destruction to the rest: this pause between
　　(Unanswerd least thou boast) to let thee know;
　　At first I thought that Libertie and Heav'n
　　To heav'nly Soules had bin all one; but now
　　I see that most through sloth had rather serve,
　　Ministring Spirits, traind up in Feast and Song;
　　Such hast thou arm'd, the Minstrelsie of Heav'n,
　　Servilitie with freedom to contend,
　　As both thir deeds compar'd this day shall prove. 170
　　To whom in brief thus Abdiel stern repli'd.
　　Apostat, still thou errst, nor end wilt find
　　Of erring, from the path of truth remote:
　　Unjustly thou deprav'st it with the name
　　Of Servitude to serve whom God ordains,
　　Or Nature; God and Nature bid the same,
　　When he who rules is worthiest, and excells
　　Them whom he governs. This is servitude,
　　To serve th' unwise, or him who hath rebelld
　　Against his worthier, as thine now serve thee, 180
　　Thy self not free, but to thy self enthrall'd;
　　Yet leudly dar'st our ministring upbraid.
　　Reign thou in Hell thy Kingdom, let mee serve
　　In Heav'n God ever blessed, and his Divine
　　Behests obey, worthiest to be obey'd,
　　Yet Chains in Hell, not Realms expect: mean while
　　>From mee returnd, as erst thou saidst, from flight,
　　This greeting on thy impious Crest receive.
　　So saying, a noble stroke he lifted high,
　　Which hung not, but so swift with tempest fell 190
　　On the proud Crest of Satan, that no sight,
　　Nor motion of swift thought, less could his Shield
　　Such ruin intercept: ten paces huge
　　He back recoild; the tenth on bended knee
　　His massie Spear upstaid; as if on Earth
　　Winds under ground or waters forcing way
　　Sidelong, had push't a Mountain from his seat
　　Half sunk with all his Pines. Amazement seis'd
　　The Rebel Thrones, but greater rage to see
　　Thus foil'd thir mightiest, ours joy filld, and shout, 200
　　Presage of Victorie and fierce desire
　　Of Battel: whereat Michael bid sound
　　Th' Arch-Angel trumpet; through the vast of Heav'n
　　It sounded, and the faithful Armies rung
　　Hosanna to the Highest: nor stood at gaze
　　The adverse Legions, nor less hideous joyn'd
　　The horrid shock: now storming furie rose,
　　And clamour such as heard in Heav'n till now
　　Was never, Arms on Armour clashing bray'd
　　Horrible discord, and the madding Wheeles 210
　　Of brazen Chariots rag'd; dire was the noise
　　Of conflict; over head the dismal hiss
　　Of fiery Darts in flaming volies flew,
　　And flying vaulted either Host with fire.
　　Sounder fierie Cope together rush'd
　　Both Battels maine, with ruinous assault
　　And inextinguishable rage; all Heav'n
　　Resounded, and had Earth bin then, all Earth
　　Had to her Center shook. What wonder? when
　　Millions of fierce encountring Angels fought 220
　　On either side, the least of whom could weild
　　These Elements, and arm him with the force
　　Of all thir Regions: how much more of Power
　　Armie against Armie numberless to raise
　　Dreadful combustion warring, and disturb,
　　Though not destroy, thir happie Native seat;
　　Had not th' Eternal King Omnipotent
　　>From his strong hold of Heav'n high over-rul'd
　　And limited thir might; though numberd such
　　As each divided Legion might have seemd 230
　　A numerous Host, in strength each armed hand
　　A Legion; led in fight, yet Leader seemd
　　Each Warriour single as in Chief, expert
　　When to advance, or stand, or turn the sway
　　Of Battel, open when, and when to close
　　The ridges of grim Warr; no thought of flight,
　　None of retreat, no unbecoming deed
　　That argu'd fear; each on himself reli'd,
　　As onely in his arm the moment lay
　　Of victorie; deeds of eternal fame 240
　　Were don, but infinite: for wide was spred
　　That Warr and various; somtimes on firm ground
　　A standing fight, then soaring on main wing
　　Tormented all the Air; all Air seemd then
　　Conflicting Fire: long time in eeven scale
　　The Battel hung; till Satan, who that day
　　Prodigious power had shewn, and met in Armes
　　No equal, raunging through the dire attack
　　Of fighting Seraphim confus'd, at length
　　Saw where the Sword of Michael smote, and fell'd 250
　　Squadrons at once, with huge two-handed sway
　　Brandisht aloft the horrid edge came down
　　Wide wasting; such destruction to withstand
　　He hasted, and oppos'd the rockie Orb
　　Of tenfold Adamant, his ample Shield
　　A vast circumference: At his approach
　　The great Arch-Angel from his warlike toile
　　Surceas'd, and glad as hoping here to end
　　Intestine War in Heav'n, the arch foe subdu'd
　　Or Captive drag'd in Chains, with hostile frown 260
　　And visage all enflam'd first thus began.
　　Author of evil, unknown till thy revolt,
　　Unnam'd in Heav'n, now plenteous, as thou seest
　　These Acts of hateful strife, hateful to all,
　　Though heaviest by just measure on thy self
　　And thy adherents: how hast thou disturb'd
　　Heav'ns blessed peace, and into Nature brought
　　Miserie, uncreated till the crime
　　Of thy Rebellion? how hast thou instill'd
　　Thy malice into thousands, once upright 270
　　And faithful, now prov'd false. But think not here
　　To trouble Holy Rest; Heav'n casts thee out
　　>From all her Confines. Heav'n the seat of bliss
　　Brooks not the works of violence and Warr.
　　Hence then, and evil go with thee along
　　Thy ofspring, to the place of evil, Hell,
　　Thou and thy wicked crew; there mingle broiles,
　　Ere this avenging Sword begin thy doome,
　　Or som more sudden vengeance wing'd from God
　　Precipitate thee with augmented paine. 280
　　So spake the Prince of Angels; to whom thus
　　The Adversarie. Nor think thou with wind
　　Of airie threats to aw whom yet with deeds
　　Thou canst not. Hast thou turnd the least of these
　　To flight, or if to fall, but that they rise
　　Unvanquisht, easier to transact with mee
　　That thou shouldst hope, imperious, & with threats
　　To chase me hence? erre not that so shall end
　　The strife which thou call'st evil, but wee style
　　The strife of Glorie: which we mean to win, 290
　　Or turn this Heav'n it self into the Hell
　　Thou fablest, here however to dwell free,
　　If not to reign: mean while thy utmost force,
　　And join him nam'd Almightie to thy aid,
　　I flie not, but have sought thee farr and nigh.
　　They ended parle, and both addrest for fight
　　Unspeakable; for who, though with the tongue
　　Of Angels, can relate, or to what things
　　Liken on Earth conspicuous, that may lift
　　Human imagination to such highth 300
　　Of Godlike Power: for likest Gods they seemd,
　　Stood they or mov'd, in stature, motion, arms
　　Fit to decide the Empire of great Heav'n.
　　Now wav'd thir fierie Swords, and in the Aire
　　Made horrid Circles; two broad Suns thir Shields
　　Blaz'd opposite, while expectation stood
　　In horror; from each hand with speed retir'd
　　Where erst was thickest fight, th' Angelic throng,
　　And left large field, unsafe within the wind
　　Of such commotion, such as to set forth 310
　　Great things by small, If Natures concord broke,
　　Among the Constellations warr were sprung,
　　Two Planets rushing from aspect maligne
　　Of fiercest opposition in mid Skie,
　　Should combat, and thir jarring Sphears confound.
　　Together both with next to Almightie Arme,
　　Uplifted imminent one stroke they aim'd
　　That might determine, and not need repeate,
　　As not of power, at once; nor odds appeerd
　　In might or swift prevention; but the sword 320
　　Of Michael from the Armorie of God
　　Was giv'n him temperd so, that neither keen
　　Nor solid might resist that edge: it met
　　The sword of Satan with steep force to smite
　　Descending, and in half cut sheere, nor staid,
　　But with swift wheele reverse, deep entring shar'd
　　All his right side; then Satan first knew pain,
　　And writh'd him to and fro convolv'd; so sore
　　The griding sword with discontinuous wound
　　Pass'd through him, but th' Ethereal substance clos'd 330
　　Not long divisible, and from the gash
　　A stream of Nectarous humor issuing flow'd
　　Sanguin, such as Celestial Spirits may bleed,
　　And all his Armour staind ere while so bright.
　　Forthwith on all sides to his aide was run
　　By Angels many and strong, who interpos'd
　　Defence, while others bore him on thir Shields
　　Back to his Chariot; where it stood retir'd
　　>From off the files of warr; there they him laid
　　Gnashing for anguish and despite and shame 340
　　To find himself not matchless, and his pride
　　Humbl'd by such rebuke, so farr beneath
　　His confidence to equal God in power.
　　Yet soon he heal'd; for Spirits that live throughout
　　Vital in every part, not as frail man
　　In Entrailes, Heart or Head, Liver or Reines,
　　Cannot but by annihilating die;
　　Nor in thir liquid texture mortal wound
　　Receive, no more then can the fluid Aire:
　　All Heart they live, all Head, all Eye, all Eare, 350
　　All Intellect, all Sense, and as they please,
　　They Limb themselves, and colour, shape or size
　　Assume, as likes them best, condense or rare.
　　Mean while in other parts like deeds deservd
　　Memorial, where the might of Gabriel fought,
　　And with fierce Ensignes pierc'd the deep array
　　Of Moloc furious King, who him defi'd,
　　And at his Chariot wheeles to drag him bound
　　Threatn'd, nor from the Holie One of Heav'n
　　Refrein'd his tongue blasphemous; but anon 360
　　Down clov'n to the waste, with shatterd Armes
　　And uncouth paine fled bellowing. On each wing
　　Uriel and Raphael his vaunting foe,
　　Though huge, and in a Rock of Diamond Armd,
　　Vanquish'd Adramelec, and Asmadai,
　　Two potent Thrones, that to be less then Gods
　　Disdain'd, but meaner thoughts learnd in thir flight,
　　Mangl'd with gastly wounds through Plate and Maile.
　　Nor stood unmindful Abdiel to annoy
　　The Atheist crew, but with redoubl'd blow 370
　　Ariel and Arioc, and the violence
　　Of Ramiel scorcht and blasted overthrew.
　　I might relate of thousands, and thir names
　　Eternize here on Earth; but those elect
　　Angels contented with thir fame in Heav'n
　　Seek not the praise of men: the other sort
　　In might though wondrous and in Acts of Warr,
　　Nor of Renown less eager, yet by doome
　　Canceld from Heav'n and sacred memorie,
　　Nameless in dark oblivion let them dwell. 380
　　For strength from Truth divided and from Just,
　　Illaudable, naught merits but dispraise
　　And ignominie, yet to glorie aspires
　　Vain glorious, and through infamie seeks fame:
　　Therfore Eternal silence be thir doome.
　　And now thir mightiest quelld, the battel swerv'd,
　　With many an inrode gor'd; deformed rout
　　Enter'd, and foul disorder; all the ground
　　With shiverd armour strow'n, and on a heap
　　Chariot and Charioter lay overturnd 390
　　And fierie foaming Steeds; what stood, recoyld
　　Orewearied, through the faint Satanic Host
　　Defensive scarse, or with pale fear surpris'd,
　　Then first with fear surpris'd and sense of paine
　　Fled ignominious, to such evil brought
　　By sinne of disobedience, till that hour
　　Not liable to fear or flight or paine.
　　Far otherwise th' inviolable Saints
　　In Cubic Phalanx firm advanc't entire,
　　Invulnerable, impenitrably arm'd: 400
　　Such high advantages thir innocence
　　Gave them above thir foes, not to have sinnd,
　　Not to have disobei'd; in fight they stood
　　Unwearied, unobnoxious to be pain'd
　　By wound, though from thir place by violence mov'd.
　　Now Night her course began, and over Heav'n
　　Inducing darkness, grateful truce impos'd,
　　And silence on the odious dinn of Warr:
　　Under her Cloudie covert both retir'd,
　　Victor and Vanquisht: on the foughten field 410
　　Michael and his Angels prevalent
　　Encamping, plac'd in Guard thir Watches round,
　　Cherubic waving fires: on th' other part
　　Satan with his rebellious disappeerd,
　　Far in the dark dislodg'd, and void of rest,
　　His Potentates to Councel call'd by night;
　　And in the midst thus undismai'd began.
　　O now in danger tri'd, now known in Armes
　　Not to be overpowerd, Companions deare,
　　Found worthy not of Libertie alone, 420
　　Too mean pretense, but what we more affect,
　　Honour, Dominion, Glorie, and renowne,
　　Who have sustaind one day in doubtful fight,
　　(And if one day, why not Eternal dayes?)
　　What Heavens Lord had powerfullest to send
　　Against us from about his Throne, and judg'd
　　Sufficient to subdue us to his will,
　　But proves not so: then fallible, it seems,
　　Of future we may deem him, though till now
　　Omniscient thought. True is, less firmly arm'd, 430
　　Some disadvantage we endur'd and paine,
　　Till now not known, but known as soon contemnd,
　　Since now we find this our Empyreal forme
　　Incapable of mortal injurie
　　Imperishable, and though peirc'd with wound,
　　Soon closing, and by native vigour heal'd.
　　Of evil then so small as easie think
　　The remedie; perhaps more valid Armes,
　　Weapons more violent, when next we meet,
　　May serve to better us, and worse our foes, 440
　　Or equal what between us made the odds,
　　In Nature none: if other hidden cause
　　Left them Superiour, while we can preserve
　　Unhurt our mindes, and understanding sound,
　　Due search and consultation will disclose.
　　He sat; and in th' assembly next upstood
　　Nisroc, of Principalities the prime;
　　As one he stood escap't from cruel fight,
　　Sore toild, his riv'n Armes to havoc hewn,
　　And cloudie in aspect thus answering spake. 450
　　Deliverer from new Lords, leader to free
　　Enjoyment of our right as Gods; yet hard
　　For Gods, and too unequal work we find
　　Against unequal armes to fight in paine,
　　Against unpaind, impassive; from which evil
　　Ruin must needs ensue; for what availes
　　Valour or strength, though matchless, quelld with pain
　　Which all subdues, and makes remiss the hands
　　Of Mightiest. Sense of pleasure we may well
　　Spare out of life perhaps, and not repine, 460
　　But live content, which is the calmest life:
　　But pain is perfet miserie, the worst
　　Of evils, and excessive, overturnes
　　All patience. He who therefore can invent
　　With what more forcible we may offend
　　Our yet unwounded Enemies, or arme
　　Our selves with like defence, to mee deserves
　　No less then for deliverance what we owe.
　　Whereto with look compos'd Satan repli'd.
　　Not uninvented that, which thou aright 470
　　Beleivst so main to our success, I bring;
　　Which of us who beholds the bright surface
　　Of this Ethereous mould whereon we stand,
　　This continent of spacious Heav'n, adornd
　　With Plant, Fruit, Flour Ambrosial, Gemms & Gold,
　　Whose Eye so superficially surveyes
　　These things, as not to mind from whence they grow
　　Deep under ground, materials dark and crude,
　　Of spiritous and fierie spume, till toucht
　　With Heav'ns ray, and temperd they shoot forth 480
　　So beauteous, op'ning to the ambient light.
　　These in thir dark Nativitie the Deep
　　Shall yeild us, pregnant with infernal flame,
　　Which into hallow Engins long and round
　　Thick-rammd, at th' other bore with touch of fire
　　Dilated and infuriate shall send forth
　　>From far with thundring noise among our foes
　　Such implements of mischief as shall dash
　　To pieces, and orewhelm whatever stands
　　Adverse, that they shall fear we have disarmd 490
　　The Thunderer of his only dreaded bolt.
　　Nor long shall be our labour, yet ere dawne,
　　Effect shall end our wish. Mean while revive;
　　Abandon fear; to strength and counsel joind
　　Think nothing hard, much less to be despaird.
　　He ended, and his words thir drooping chere
　　Enlightn'd, and thir languisht hope reviv'd.
　　Th' invention all admir'd, and each, how hee
　　To be th' inventer miss'd, so easie it seemd
　　Once found, which yet unfound most would have thought 500
　　Impossible: yet haply of thy Race
　　In future dayes, if Malice should abound,
　　Some one intent on mischief, or inspir'd
　　With dev'lish machination might devise
　　Like instrument to plague the Sons of men
　　For sin, on warr and mutual slaughter bent.
　　Forthwith from Councel to the work they flew,
　　None arguing stood, innumerable hands
　　Were ready, in a moment up they turnd
　　Wide the Celestial soile, and saw beneath 510
　　Th' originals of Nature in thir crude
　　Conception; Sulphurous and Nitrous Foame
　　They found, they mingl'd, and with suttle Art,
　　Concocted and adusted they reduc'd
　　To blackest grain, and into store conveyd:
　　Part hidd'n veins diggd up (nor hath this Earth
　　Entrails unlike) of Mineral and Stone,
　　Whereof to found thir Engins and thir Balls
　　Of missive ruin; part incentive reed
　　Provide, pernicious with one touch to fire. 520
　　So all ere day spring, under conscious Night
　　Secret they finish'd, and in order set,
　　With silent circumspection unespi'd.
　　Now when fair Morn Orient in Heav'n appeerd
　　Up rose the Victor Angels, and to Arms
　　The matin Trumpet Sung: in Arms they stood
　　Of Golden Panoplie, refulgent Host,
　　Soon banded; others from the dawning Hills
　　Lookd round, and Scouts each Coast light-armed scoure,
　　Each quarter, to descrie the distant foe, 530
　　Where lodg'd, or whither fled, or if for fight,
　　In motion or in alt: him soon they met
　　Under spred Ensignes moving nigh, in slow
　　But firm Battalion; back with speediest Sail
　　Zephiel, of Cherubim the swiftest wing,
　　Came flying, and in mid Aire aloud thus cri'd.
　　Arme, Warriours, Arme for fight, the foe at hand,
　　Whom fled we thought, will save us long pursuit
　　This day, fear not his flight; so thick a Cloud
　　He comes, and settl'd in his face I see 540
　　Sad resolution and secure: let each
　　His Adamantine coat gird well, and each
　　Fit well his Helme, gripe fast his orbed Shield,
　　Born eevn or high, for this day will pour down,
　　If I conjecture aught, no drizling showr,
　　But ratling storm of Arrows barbd with fire.
　　So warnd he them aware themselves, and soon
　　In order, quit of all impediment;
　　Instant without disturb they took Allarm,
　　And onward move Embattelld; when behold 550
　　Not distant far with heavie pace the Foe
　　Approaching gross and huge; in hollow Cube
　　Training his devilish Enginrie, impal'd
　　On every side with shaddowing Squadrons Deep,
　　To hide the fraud. At interview both stood
　　A while, but suddenly at head appeerd
　　Satan: And thus was heard Commanding loud.
　　Vangard, to Right and Left the Front unfould;
　　That all may see who hate us, how we seek
　　Peace and composure, and with open brest 560
　　Stand readie to receive them, if they like
　　Our overture, and turn not back perverse;
　　But that I doubt, however witness Heaven,
　　Heav'n witness thou anon, while we discharge
　　Freely our part: yee who appointed stand
　　Do as you have in charge, and briefly touch
　　What we propound, and loud that all may hear.
　　So scoffing in ambiguous words, he scarce
　　Had ended; when to Right and Left the Front
　　Divided, and to either Flank retir'd. 570
　　Which to our eyes discoverd new and strange,
　　A triple-mounted row of Pillars laid
　　On Wheels (for like to Pillars most they seem'd
　　Or hollow'd bodies made of Oak or Firr
　　With branches lopt, in Wood or Mountain fell'd)
　　Brass, Iron, Stonie mould, had not thir mouthes
　　With hideous orifice gap't on us wide,
　　Portending hollow truce; at each behind
　　A Seraph stood, and in his hand a Reed
　　Stood waving tipt with fire; while we suspense, 580
　　Collected stood within our thoughts amus'd,
　　Not long, for sudden all at once thir Reeds
　　Put forth, and to a narrow vent appli'd
　　With nicest touch. Immediate in a flame,
　　But soon obscur'd with smoak, all Heav'n appeerd,
　　>From those deep-throated Engins belcht, whose roar
　　Emboweld with outragious noise the Air,
　　And all her entrails tore, disgorging foule
　　Thir devillish glut, chaind Thunderbolts and Hail
　　Of Iron Globes, which on the Victor Host 590
　　Level'd, with such impetuous furie smote,
　　That whom they hit, none on thir feet might stand,
　　Though standing else as Rocks, but down they fell
　　By thousands, Angel on Arch-Angel rowl'd;
　　The sooner for thir Arms, unarm'd they might
　　Have easily as Spirits evaded swift
　　By quick contraction or remove; but now
　　Foule dissipation follow'd and forc't rout;
　　Nor serv'd it to relax thir serried files.
　　What should they do? if on they rusht, repulse 600
　　Repeated, and indecent overthrow
　　Doubl'd, would render them yet more despis'd,
　　And to thir foes a laughter; for in view
　　Stood rankt of Seraphim another row
　　In posture to displode thir second tire
　　Of Thunder: back defeated to return
　　They worse abhorr'd. Satan beheld thir plight,
　　And to his Mates thus in derision call'd.
　　O Friends, why come not on these Victors proud?
　　Ere while they fierce were coming, and when wee, 610
　　To entertain them fair with open Front
　　And Brest, (what could we more?) propounded terms
　　Of composition, strait they chang'd thir minds,
　　Flew off, and into strange vagaries fell,
　　As they would dance, yet for a dance they seemd
　　Somwhat extravagant and wilde, perhaps
　　For joy of offerd peace: but I suppose
　　If our proposals once again were heard
　　We should compel them to a quick result.
　　To whom thus Belial in like gamesom mood. 620
　　Leader, the terms we sent were terms of weight,
　　Of hard contents, and full of force urg'd home,
　　Such as we might perceive amus'd them all,
　　And stumbl'd many, who receives them right,
　　Had need from head to foot well understand;
　　Not understood, this gift they have besides,
　　They shew us when our foes walk not upright.
　　So they among themselves in pleasant veine
　　Stood scoffing, highthn'd in thir thoughts beyond
　　All doubt of Victorie, eternal might 630
　　To match with thir inventions they presum'd
　　So easie, and of his Thunder made a scorn,
　　And all his Host derided, while they stood
　　A while in trouble; but they stood not long,
　　Rage prompted them at length, & found them arms
　　Against such hellish mischief fit to oppose.
　　Forthwith (behold the excellence, the power
　　Which God hath in his mighty Angels plac'd)
　　Thir Arms away they threw, and to the Hills
　　(For Earth hath this variety from Heav'n 640
　　Of pleasure situate in Hill and Dale)
　　Light as the Lightning glimps they ran, they flew,
　　>From thir foundations loosning to and fro
　　They pluckt the seated Hills with all thir load,
　　Rocks, Waters, Woods, and by the shaggie tops
　　Up lifting bore them in thir hands: Amaze,
　　Be sure, and terrour seis'd the rebel Host,
　　When coming towards them so dread they saw
　　The bottom of the Mountains upward turn'd,
　　Till on those cursed Engins triple-row 650
　　They saw them whelmd, and all thir confidence
　　Under the weight of Mountains buried deep,
　　Themselves invaded next, and on thir heads
　　Main Promontories flung, which in the Air
　　Came shadowing, and opprest whole Legions arm'd,
　　Thir armor help'd thir harm, crush't in and brus'd
　　Into thir substance pent, which wrought them pain
　　Implacable, and many a dolorous groan,
　　Long strugling underneath, ere they could wind
　　Out of such prison, though Spirits of purest light, 660
　　Purest at first, now gross by sinning grown.
　　The rest in imitation to like Armes
　　Betook them, and the neighbouring Hills uptore;
　　So Hills amid the Air encounterd Hills
　　Hurl'd to and fro with jaculation dire,
　　That under ground they fought in dismal shade;
　　Infernal noise; Warr seem'd a civil Game
　　To this uproar; horrid confusion heapt
　　Upon confusion rose: and now all Heav'n
　　Had gone to wrack, with ruin overspred, 670
　　Had not th' Almightie Father where he sits
　　Shrin'd in his Sanctuarie of Heav'n secure,
　　Consulting on the sum of things, foreseen
　　This tumult, and permitted all, advis'd:
　　That his great purpose he might so fulfill,
　　To honour his Anointed Son aveng'd
　　Upon his enemies, and to declare
　　All power on him transferr'd: whence to his Son
　　Th' Assessor of his Throne he thus began.
　　Effulgence of my Glorie, Son belov'd, 680
　　Son in whose face invisible is beheld
　　Visibly, what by Deitie I am,
　　And in whose hand what by Decree I doe,
　　Second Omnipotence, two dayes are past,
　　Two dayes, as we compute the dayes of Heav'n,
　　Since Michael and his Powers went forth to tame
　　These disobedient; sore hath been thir fight,
　　As likeliest was, when two such Foes met arm'd;
　　For to themselves I left them, and thou knowst,
　　Equal in their Creation they were form'd, 690
　　Save what sin hath impaird, which yet hath wrought
　　Insensibly, for I suspend thir doom;
　　Whence in perpetual fight they needs must last
　　Endless, and no solution will be found:
　　Warr wearied hath perform'd what Warr can do,
　　And to disorder'd rage let loose the reines,
　　With Mountains as with Weapons arm'd, which makes
　　Wild work in Heav'n, and dangerous to the maine.
　　Two dayes are therefore past, the third is thine;
　　For thee I have ordain'd it, and thus farr 700
　　Have sufferd, that the Glorie may be thine
　　Of ending this great Warr, since none but Thou
　　Can end it. Into thee such Vertue and Grace
　　Immense I have transfus'd, that all may know
　　In Heav'n and Hell thy Power above compare,
　　And this perverse Commotion governd thus,
　　To manifest thee worthiest to be Heir
　　Of all things, to be Heir and to be King
　　By Sacred Unction, thy deserved right.
　　Go then thou Mightiest in thy Fathers might, 710
　　Ascend my Chariot, guide the rapid Wheeles
　　That shake Heav'ns basis, bring forth all my Warr,
　　My Bow and Thunder, my Almightie Arms
　　Gird on, and Sword upon thy puissant Thigh;
　　Pursue these sons of Darkness, drive them out
　　>From all Heav'ns bounds into the utter Deep:
　　There let them learn, as likes them, to despise
　　God and Messiah his anointed King.
　　He said, and on his Son with Rayes direct
　　Shon full, he all his Father full exprest 720
　　Ineffably into his face receiv'd,
　　And thus the filial Godhead answering spake.
　　O Father, O Supream of heav'nly Thrones,
　　First, Highest, Holiest, Best, thou alwayes seekst
　　To glorifie thy Son, I alwayes thee,
　　As is most just; this I my Glorie account,
　　My exaltation, and my whole delight,
　　That thou in me well pleas'd, declarst thy will
　　Fulfill'd, which to fulfil is all my bliss.
　　Scepter and Power, thy giving, I assume, 730
　　And gladlier shall resign, when in the end
　　Thou shalt be All in All, and I in thee
　　For ever, and in mee all whom thou lov'st:
　　But whom thou hat'st, I hate, and can put on
　　Thy terrors, as I put thy mildness on,
　　Image of thee in all things; and shall soon,
　　Armd with thy might, rid heav'n of these rebell'd,
　　To thir prepar'd ill Mansion driven down
　　To chains of Darkness, and th' undying Worm,
　　That from thy just obedience could revolt, 740
　　Whom to obey is happiness entire.
　　Then shall thy Saints unmixt, and from th' impure
　　Farr separate, circling thy holy Mount
　　Unfained Halleluiahs to thee sing,
　　Hymns of high praise, and I among them chief.
　　So said, he o're his Scepter bowing, rose
　　>From the right hand of Glorie where he sate,
　　And the third sacred Morn began to shine
　　Dawning through Heav'n: forth rush'd with whirlwind sound
　　The Chariot of Paternal Deitie, 750
　　Flashing thick flames, Wheele within Wheele undrawn,
　　It self instinct with Spirit, but convoyd
　　By four Cherubic shapes, four Faces each
　　Had wondrous, as with Starrs thir bodies all
　　And Wings were set with Eyes, with Eyes the Wheels
　　Of Beril, and careering Fires between;
　　Over thir heads a chrystal Firmament,
　　Whereon a Saphir Throne, inlaid with pure
　　Amber, and colours of the showrie Arch.
　　Hee in Celestial Panoplie all armd 760
　　Of radiant Urim, work divinely wrought,
　　Ascended, at his right hand Victorie
　　Sate Eagle-wing'd, beside him hung his Bow
　　And Quiver with three-bolted Thunder stor'd,
　　And from about him fierce Effusion rowld
　　Of smoak and bickering flame, and sparkles dire;
　　Attended with ten thousand thousand Saints,
　　He onward came, farr off his coming shon,
　　And twentie thousand (I thir number heard)
　　Chariots of God, half on each hand were seen: 770
　　Hee on the wings of Cherub rode sublime
　　On the Crystallin Skie, in Saphir Thron'd.
　　Illustrious farr and wide, but by his own
　　First seen, them unexpected joy surpriz'd,
　　When the great Ensign of Messiah blaz'd
　　Aloft by Angels born, his Sign in Heav'n:
　　Under whose Conduct Michael soon reduc'd
　　His Armie, circumfus'd on either Wing,
　　Under thir Head imbodied all in one.
　　Before him Power Divine his way prepar'd; 780
　　At his command the uprooted Hills retir'd
　　Each to his place, they heard his voice and went
　　Obsequious, Heav'n his wonted face renewd,
　　And with fresh Flourets Hill and Valley smil'd.
　　This saw his hapless Foes, but stood obdur'd,
　　And to rebellious fight rallied thir Powers
　　Insensate, hope conceiving from despair.
　　In heav'nly Spirits could such perverseness dwell?
　　But to convince the proud what Signs availe,
　　Or Wonders move th' obdurate to relent? 790
　　They hard'nd more by what might most reclame,
　　Grieving to see his Glorie, at the sight
　　Took envie, and aspiring to his highth,
　　Stood reimbattell'd fierce, by force or fraud
　　Weening to prosper, and at length prevaile
　　Against God and Messiah, or to fall
　　In universal ruin last, and now
　　To final Battel drew, disdaining flight,
　　Or faint retreat; when the great Son of God
　　To all his Host on either hand thus spake. 800
　　Stand still in bright array ye Saints, here stand
　　Ye Angels arm'd, this day from Battel rest;
　　Faithful hath been your Warfare, and of God
　　Accepted, fearless in his righteous Cause,
　　And as ye have receivd, so have ye don
　　Invincibly; but of this cursed crew
　　The punishment to other hand belongs,
　　Vengeance is his, or whose he sole appoints;
　　Number to this dayes work is not ordain'd
　　Nor multitude, stand onely and behold 810
　　Gods indignation on these Godless pourd
　　By mee; not you but mee they have despis'd,
　　Yet envied; against mee is all thir rage,
　　Because the Father, t' whom in Heav'n supream
　　Kingdom and Power and Glorie appertains,
　　Hath honourd me according to his will.
　　Therefore to mee thir doom he hath assig'n'd;
　　That they may have thir wish, to trie with mee
　　In Battel which the stronger proves, they all,
　　Or I alone against them, since by strength 820
　　They measure all, of other excellence
　　Not emulous, nor care who them excells;
　　Nor other strife with them do I voutsafe.
　　So spake the Son, and into terrour chang'd
　　His count'nance too severe to be beheld
　　And full of wrauth bent on his Enemies.
　　At once the Four spred out thir Starrie wings
　　With dreadful shade contiguous, and the Orbes
　　Of his fierce Chariot rowld, as with the sound
　　Of torrent Floods, or of a numerous Host. 830
　　Hee on his impious Foes right onward drove,
　　Gloomie as Night; under his burning Wheeles
　　The stedfast Empyrean shook throughout,
　　All but the Throne it self of God. Full soon
　　Among them he arriv'd; in his right hand
　　Grasping ten thousand Thunders, which he sent
　　Before him, such as in thir Soules infix'd
　　Plagues; they astonisht all resistance lost,
　　All courage; down thir idle weapons drop'd;
　　O're Shields and Helmes, and helmed heads he rode 840
　　Of Thrones and mighty Seraphim prostrate,
　　That wish'd the Mountains now might be again
　　Thrown on them as a shelter from his ire.
　　Nor less on either side tempestuous fell
　　His arrows, from the fourfold-visag'd Foure,
　　Distinct with eyes, and from the living Wheels,
　　Distinct alike with multitude of eyes,
　　One Spirit in them rul'd, and every eye
　　Glar'd lightning, and shot forth pernicious fire
　　Among th' accurst, that witherd all thir strength, 850
　　And of thir wonted vigour left them draind,
　　Exhausted, spiritless, afflicted, fall'n.
　　Yet half his strength he put not forth, but check'd
　　His Thunder in mid Volie, for he meant
　　Not to destroy, but root them out of Heav'n:
　　The overthrown he rais'd, and as a Heard
　　Of Goats or timerous flock together throngd
　　Drove them before him Thunder-struck, pursu'd
　　With terrors and with furies to the bounds
　　And Chrystall wall of Heav'n, which op'ning wide, 860
　　Rowld inward, and a spacious Gap disclos'd
　　Into the wastful Deep; the monstrous sight
　　Strook them with horror backward, but far worse
　　Urg'd them behind; headlong themselvs they threw
　　Down from the verge of Heav'n, Eternal wrauth
　　Burnt after them to the bottomless pit.
　　Hell heard th' unsufferable noise, Hell saw
　　Heav'n ruining from Heav'n and would have fled
　　Affrighted; but strict Fate had cast too deep
　　Her dark foundations, and too fast had bound. 870
　　Nine dayes they fell; confounded Chaos roard,
　　And felt tenfold confusion in thir fall
　　Through his wilde Anarchie, so huge a rout
　　Incumberd him with ruin: Hell at last
　　Yawning receavd them whole, and on them clos'd,
　　Hell thir fit habitation fraught with fire
　　Unquenchable, the house of woe and paine.
　　Disburd'nd Heav'n rejoic'd, and soon repaird
　　Her mural breach, returning whence it rowld.
　　Sole Victor from th' expulsion of his Foes 880
　　Messiah his triumphal Chariot turnd:
　　To meet him all his Saints, who silent stood
　　Eye witnesses of his Almightie Acts,
　　With Jubilie advanc'd; and as they went,
　　Shaded with branching Palme, each order bright,
　　Sung Triumph, and him sung Victorious King,
　　Son, Heire, and Lord, to him Dominion giv'n,
　　Worthiest to Reign: he celebrated rode
　　Triumphant through mid Heav'n, into the Courts
　　And Temple of his mightie Father Thron'd 890
　　On high; who into Glorie him receav'd,
　　Where now he sits at the right hand of bliss.
　　Thus measuring things in Heav'n by things on Earth
　　At thy request, and that thou maist beware
　　By what is past, to thee I have reveal'd
　　What might have else to human Race bin hid;
　　The discord which befel, and Warr in Heav'n
　　Among th' Angelic Powers, and the deep fall
　　Of those too high aspiring, who rebelld
　　With Satan, hee who envies now thy state, 900
　　Who now is plotting how he may seduce
　　Thee also from obedience, that with him
　　Bereavd of happiness thou maist partake
　　His punishment, Eternal miserie;
　　Which would be all his solace and revenge,
　　As a despite don against the most High,
　　Thee once to gaine Companion of his woe.
　　But list'n not to his Temptations, warne
　　Thy weaker; let it profit thee to have heard
　　By terrible Example the reward 910
　　Of disobedience; firm they might have stood,
　　Yet fell; remember, and fear to transgress.
　　
　　The End Of The Sixth Book.
　　
　　
　　
　　BOOK VII.
　　
　　THE ARGUMENT.
　　
　　Raphael at the request of Adam relates how and wherefore this
　　world was first created; that God, after the expelling of Satan
　　and his Angels out of Heaven, declar'd his pleasure to create
　　another World and other Creatures to dwell therein; sends his
　　Son with Glory and attendance of Angels to perform the work
　　of Creation in six dayes: the Angels celebrate with Hymns the
　　performance thereof, and his reascention into Heaven.
　　
　　Descend from Heav'n Urania, by that name
　　If rightly thou art call'd, whose Voice divine
　　Following, above th' Olympian Hill I soare,
　　Above the flight of Pegasean wing.
　　The meaning, not the Name I call: for thou
　　Nor of the Muses nine, nor on the top
　　Of old Olympus dwell'st, but Heav'nlie borne,
　　Before the Hills appeerd, or Fountain flow'd,
　　Thou with Eternal wisdom didst converse,
　　Wisdom thy Sister, and with her didst play 10
　　In presence of th' Almightie Father, pleas'd
　　With thy Celestial Song. Up led by thee
　　Into the Heav'n of Heav'ns I have presum'd,
　　An Earthlie Guest, and drawn Empyreal Aire,
　　Thy tempring; with like safetie guided down
　　Return me to my Native Element:
　　Least from this flying Steed unrein'd, (as once
　　Bellerophon, though from a lower Clime)
　　Dismounted, on th' Aleian Field I fall
　　Erroneous, there to wander and forlorne. 20
　　Half yet remaines unsung, but narrower bound
　　Within the visible Diurnal Spheare;
　　Standing on Earth, not rapt above the Pole,
　　More safe I Sing with mortal voice, unchang'd
　　To hoarce or mute, though fall'n on evil dayes,
　　On evil dayes though fall'n, and evil tongues;
　　In darkness, and with dangers compast round,
　　And solitude; yet not alone, while thou
　　Visit'st my slumbers Nightly, or when Morn
　　Purples the East: still govern thou my Song, 30
　　Urania, and fit audience find, though few.
　　But drive farr off the barbarous dissonance
　　Of Bacchus and his Revellers, the Race
　　Of that wilde Rout that tore the Thracian Bard
　　In Rhodope, where Woods and Rocks had Eares
　　To rapture, till the savage clamor dround
　　Both Harp and Voice; nor could the Muse defend
　　Her Son. So fail not thou, who thee implores:
　　For thou art Heav'nlie, shee an empty dreame.
　　Say Goddess, what ensu'd when Raphael, 40
　　The affable Arch-angel, had forewarn'd
　　Adam by dire example to beware
　　Apostasie, by what befell in Heaven
　　To those Apostates, least the like befall
　　In Paradise to Adam or his Race,
　　Charg'd not to touch the interdicted Tree,
　　If they transgress, and slight that sole command,
　　So easily obeyd amid the choice
　　Of all tasts else to please thir appetite,
　　Though wandring. He with his consorted Eve 50
　　The storie heard attentive, and was fill'd
　　With admiration, and deep Muse to heare
　　Of things so high and strange, things to thir thought
　　So unimaginable as hate in Heav'n,
　　And Warr so neer the Peace of God in bliss
　　With such confusion: but the evil soon
　　Driv'n back redounded as a flood on those
　　>From whom it sprung, impossible to mix
　　With Blessedness. Whence Adam soon repeal'd
　　The doubts that in his heart arose: and now 60
　　Led on, yet sinless, with desire to know
　　What neerer might concern him, how this World
　　Of Heav'n and Earth conspicuous first began,
　　When, and whereof created, for what cause,
　　What within Eden or without was done
　　Before his memorie, as one whose drouth
　　Yet scarce allay'd still eyes the current streame,
　　Whose liquid murmur heard new thirst excites,
　　Proceeded thus to ask his Heav'nly Guest.
　　Great things, and full of wonder in our eares, 70
　　Farr differing from this World, thou hast reveal'd
　　Divine Interpreter, by favour sent
　　Down from the Empyrean to forewarne
　　Us timely of what might else have bin our loss,
　　Unknown, which human knowledg could not reach:
　　For which to the infinitly Good we owe
　　Immortal thanks, and his admonishment
　　Receave with solemne purpose to observe
　　Immutably his sovran will, the end
　　Of what we are. But since thou hast voutsaf't 80
　　Gently for our instruction to impart
　　Things above Earthly thought, which yet concernd
　　Our knowing, as to highest wisdom seemd,
　　Deign to descend now lower, and relate
　　What may no less perhaps availe us known,
　　How first began this Heav'n which we behold
　　Distant so high, with moving Fires adornd
　　Innumerable, and this which yeelds or fills
　　All space, the ambient Aire wide interfus'd
　　Imbracing round this florid Earth, what cause 90
　　Mov'd the Creator in his holy Rest
　　Through all Eternitie so late to build
　　In Chaos, and the work begun, how soon
　　Absolv'd, if unforbid thou maist unfould
　　What wee, not to explore the secrets aske
　　Of his Eternal Empire, but the more
　　To magnifie his works, the more we know.
　　And the great Light of Day yet wants to run
　　Much of his Race though steep, suspens in Heav'n
　　Held by thy voice, thy potent voice he heares, 100
　　And longer will delay to heare thee tell
　　His Generation, and the rising Birth
　　Of Nature from the unapparent Deep:
　　Or if the Starr of Eevning and the Moon
　　Haste to thy audience, Night with her will bring
　　Silence, and Sleep listning to thee will watch,
　　Or we can bid his absence, till thy Song
　　End, and dismiss thee ere the Morning shine.
　　Thus Adam his illustrous Guest besought:
　　And thus the Godlike Angel answerd milde. 110
　　This also thy request with caution askt
　　Obtaine: though to recount Almightie works
　　What words or tongue of Seraph can suffice,
　　Or heart of man suffice to comprehend?
　　Yet what thou canst attain, which best may serve
　　To glorifie the Maker, and inferr
　　Thee also happier, shall not be withheld
　　Thy hearing, such Commission from above
　　I have receav'd, to answer thy desire
　　Of knowledge within bounds; beyond abstain 120
　　To ask, nor let thine own inventions hope
　　Things not reveal'd, which th' invisible King,
　　Onely Omniscient, hath supprest in Night,
　　To none communicable in Earth or Heaven:
　　Anough is left besides to search and know.
　　But Knowledge is as food, and needs no less
　　Her Temperance over Appetite, to know
　　In measure what the mind may well contain,
　　Oppresses else with Surfet, and soon turns
　　Wisdom to Folly, as Nourishment to Winde. 130
　　Know then, that after Lucifer from Heav'n
　　(So call him, brighter once amidst the Host
　　Of Angels, then that Starr the Starrs among)
　　Fell with his flaming Legions through the Deep
　　Into his place, and the great Son returnd
　　Victorious with his Saints, th' Omnipotent
　　Eternal Father from his Throne beheld
　　Thir multitude, and to his Son thus spake.
　　At least our envious Foe hath fail'd, who thought
　　All like himself rebellious, by whose aid 140
　　This inaccessible high strength, the seat
　　Of Deitie supream, us dispossest,
　　He trusted to have seis'd, and into fraud
　　Drew many, whom thir place knows here no more;
　　Yet farr the greater part have kept, I see,
　　Thir station, Heav'n yet populous retaines
　　Number sufficient to possess her Realmes
　　Though wide, and this high Temple to frequent
　　With Ministeries due and solemn Rites:
　　But least his heart exalt him in the harme 150
　　Already done, to have dispeopl'd Heav'n,
　　My damage fondly deem'd, I can repaire
　　That detriment, if such it be to lose
　　Self-lost, and in a moment will create
　　Another World, out of one man a Race
　　Of men innumerable, there to dwell,
　　Not here, till by degrees of merit rais'd
　　They open to themselves at length the way
　　Up hither, under long obedience tri'd,
　　And Earth be chang'd to Heavn, & Heav'n to Earth, 160
　　One Kingdom, Joy and Union without end.
　　Mean while inhabit laxe, ye Powers of Heav'n,
　　And thou my Word, begotten Son, by thee
　　This I perform, speak thou, and be it don:
　　My overshadowing Spirit and might with thee
　　I send along, ride forth, and bid the Deep
　　Within appointed bounds be Heav'n and Earth,
　　Boundless the Deep, because I am who fill
　　Infinitude, nor vacuous the space.
　　Though I uncircumscrib'd my self retire, 170
　　And put not forth my goodness, which is free
　　To act or not, Necessitie and Chance
　　Approach not mee, and what I will is Fate.
　　So spake th' Almightie, and to what he spake
　　His Word, the Filial Godhead, gave effect.
　　Immediate are the Acts of God, more swift
　　Then time or motion, but to human ears
　　Cannot without process of speech be told,
　　So told as earthly notion can receave.
　　Great triumph and rejoycing was in Heav'n 180
　　When such was heard declar'd the Almightie's will;
　　Glorie they sung to the most High, good will
　　To future men, and in thir dwellings peace:
　　Glorie to him whose just avenging ire
　　Had driven out th' ungodly from his sight
　　And th' habitations of the just; to him
　　Glorie and praise, whose wisdom had ordain'd
　　Good out of evil to create, in stead
　　Of Spirits maligne a better Race to bring
　　Into thir vacant room, and thence diffuse 190
　　His good to Worlds and Ages infinite.
　　So sang the Hierarchies: Mean while the Son
　　On his great Expedition now appeer'd,
　　Girt with Omnipotence, with Radiance crown'd
　　Of Majestie Divine, Sapience and Love
　　Immense, and all his Father in him shon.
　　About his Chariot numberless were pour'd
　　Cherub and Seraph, Potentates and Thrones,
　　And Vertues, winged Spirits, and Chariots wing'd,
　　>From the Armoury of God, where stand of old 200
　　Myriads between two brazen Mountains lodg'd
　　Against a solemn day, harnest at hand,
　　Celestial Equipage; and now came forth
　　Spontaneous, for within them Spirit livd,
　　Attendant on thir Lord: Heav'n op'nd wide
　　Her ever during Gates, Harmonious sound
　　On golden Hinges moving, to let forth
　　The King of Glorie in his powerful Word
　　And Spirit coming to create new Worlds.
　　On heav'nly ground they stood, and from the shore 210
　　They view'd the vast immeasurable Abyss
　　Outrageous as a Sea, dark, wasteful, wilde,
　　Up from the bottom turn'd by furious windes
　　And surging waves, as Mountains to assault
　　Heav'ns highth, and with the Center mix the Pole.
　　Silence, ye troubl'd waves, and thou Deep, peace,
　　Said then th' Omnific Word, your discord end:
　　Nor staid, but on the Wings of Cherubim
　　Uplifted, in Paternal Glorie rode
　　Farr into Chaos, and the World unborn; 220
　　For Chaos heard his voice: him all his Traine
　　Follow'd in bright procession to behold
　　Creation, and the wonders of his might.
　　Then staid the fervid Wheeles, and in his hand
　　He took the golden Compasses, prepar'd
　　In Gods Eternal store, to circumscribe
　　This Universe, and all created things:
　　One foot he center'd, and the other turn'd
　　Round through the vast profunditie obscure,
　　And said, thus farr extend, thus farr thy bounds, 230
　　This be thy just Circumference, O World.
　　Thus God the Heav'n created, thus the Earth,
　　Matter unform'd and void: Darkness profound
　　Cover'd th' Abyss: but on the watrie calme
　　His brooding wings the Spirit of God outspred,
　　And vital vertue infus'd, and vital warmth
　　Throughout the fluid Mass, but downward purg'd
　　The black tartareous cold infernal dregs
　　Adverse to life: then founded, then conglob'd
　　Like things to like, the rest to several place 240
　　Disparted, and between spun out the Air,
　　And Earth self-ballanc't on her Center hung.
　　Let ther be Light, said God, and forthwith Light
　　Ethereal, first of things, quintessence pure
　　Sprung from the Deep, and from her Native East
　　To journie through the airie gloom began,
　　Sphear'd in a radiant Cloud, for yet the Sun
　　Was not; shee in a cloudie Tabernacle
　　Sojourn'd the while. God saw the Light was good;
　　And light from darkness by the Hemisphere 250
　　Divided: Light the Day, and Darkness Night
　　He nam'd. Thus was the first Day Eev'n and Morn:
　　Nor past uncelebrated, nor unsung
　　By the Celestial Quires, when Orient Light
　　Exhaling first from Darkness they beheld;
　　Birth-day of Heav'n and Earth; with joy and shout
　　The hollow Universal Orb they fill'd,
　　And touch't thir Golden Harps, & hymning prais'd
　　God and his works, Creatour him they sung,
　　Both when first Eevning was, and when first Morn. 260
　　Again, God said, let ther be Firmament
　　Amid the Waters, and let it divide
　　The Waters from the Waters: and God made
　　The Firmament, expanse of liquid, pure,
　　Transparent, Elemental Air, diffus'd
　　In circuit to the uttermost convex
　　Of this great Round: partition firm and sure,
　　The Waters underneath from those above
　　Dividing: for as Earth, so hee the World
　　Built on circumfluous Waters calme, in wide 270
　　Crystallin Ocean, and the loud misrule
　　Of Chaos farr remov'd, least fierce extreames
　　Contiguous might distemper the whole frame:
　　And Heav'n he nam'd the Firmament: So Eev'n
　　And Morning Chorus sung the second Day.
　　The Earth was form'd, but in the Womb as yet
　　Of Waters, Embryon immature involv'd,
　　Appeer'd not: over all the face of Earth
　　Main Ocean flow'd, not idle, but with warme
　　Prolific humour soft'ning all her Globe, 280
　　Fermented the great Mother to conceave,
　　Satiate with genial moisture, when God said
　　Be gather'd now ye Waters under Heav'n
　　Into one place, and let dry Land appeer.
　　Immediately the Mountains huge appeer
　　Emergent, and thir broad bare backs upheave
　　Into the Clouds, thir tops ascend the Skie:
　　So high as heav'd the tumid Hills, so low
　　Down sunk a hollow bottom broad and deep,
　　Capacious bed of Waters: thither they 290
　　Hasted with glad precipitance, uprowld
　　As drops on dust conglobing from the drie;
　　Part rise in crystal Wall, or ridge direct,
　　For haste; such flight the great command impress'd
　　On the swift flouds: as Armies at the call
　　Of Trumpet (for of Armies thou hast heard)
　　Troop to thir Standard, so the watrie throng,
　　Wave rowling after Wave, where way they found,
　　If steep, with torrent rapture, if through Plaine,
　　Soft-ebbing; nor withstood them Rock or Hill, 300
　　But they, or under ground, or circuit wide
　　With Serpent errour wandring, found thir way,
　　And on the washie Oose deep Channels wore;
　　Easie, e're God had bid the ground be drie,
　　All but within those banks, where Rivers now
　　Stream, and perpetual draw thir humid traine.
　　The dry Land, Earth, and the great receptacle
　　Of congregated Waters he call'd Seas:
　　And saw that it was good, and said, Let th' Earth
　　Put forth the verdant Grass, Herb yeilding Seed, 310
　　And Fruit Tree yeilding Fruit after her kind;
　　Whose Seed is in her self upon the Earth.
　　He scarce had said, when the bare Earth, till then
　　Desert and bare, unsightly, unadorn'd,
　　Brought forth the tender Grass, whose verdure clad
　　Her Universal Face with pleasant green,
　　Then Herbs of every leaf, that sudden flour'd
　　Op'ning thir various colours, and made gay
　　Her bosom smelling sweet: and these scarce blown,
　　Forth flourish't thick the clustring Vine, forth crept 320
　　The smelling Gourd, up stood the cornie Reed
　　Embattell'd in her field: add the humble Shrub,
　　And Bush with frizl'd hair implicit: last
　　Rose as in Dance the stately Trees, and spred
　　Thir branches hung with copious Fruit; or gemm'd
　　Thir Blossoms: with high Woods the Hills were crownd,
　　With tufts the vallies & each fountain side,
　　With borders long the Rivers. That Earth now
　　Seemd like to Heav'n, a seat where Gods might dwell,
　　Or wander with delight, and love to haunt 330
　　Her sacred shades: though God had yet not rain'd
　　Upon the Earth, and man to till the ground
　　None was, but from the Earth a dewie Mist
　　Went up and waterd all the ground, and each
　　Plant of the field, which e're it was in the Earth
　　God made, and every Herb, before it grew
　　On the green stemm; God saw that it was good:
　　So Eev'n and Morn recorded the Third Day.
　　Again th' Almightie spake: Let there be Lights
　　High in th' expanse of Heaven to divide 340
　　The Day from Night; and let them be for Signes,
　　For Seasons, and for Dayes, and circling Years,
　　And let them be for Lights as I ordaine
　　Thir Office in the Firmament of Heav'n
　　To give Light on the Earth; and it was so.
　　And God made two great Lights, great for thir use
　　To Man, the greater to have rule by Day,
　　The less by Night alterne: and made the Starrs,
　　And set them in the Firmament of Heav'n
　　To illuminate the Earth, and rule the Day 350
　　In thir vicissitude, and rule the Night,
　　And Light from Darkness to divide. God saw,
　　Surveying his great Work, that it was good:
　　For of Celestial Bodies first the Sun
　　A mightie Spheare he fram'd, unlightsom first,
　　Though of Ethereal Mould: then form'd the Moon
　　Globose, and everie magnitude of Starrs,
　　And sowd with Starrs the Heav'n thick as a field:
　　Of Light by farr the greater part he took,
　　Transplanted from her cloudie Shrine, and plac'd 360
　　In the Suns Orb, made porous to receive
　　And drink the liquid Light, firm to retaine
　　Her gather'd beams, great Palace now of Light.
　　Hither as to thir Fountain other Starrs
　　Repairing, in thir gold'n Urns draw Light,
　　And hence the Morning Planet guilds his horns;
　　By tincture or reflection they augment
　　Thir small peculiar, though from human sight
　　So farr remote, with diminution seen.
　　First in his East the glorious Lamp was seen, 370
　　Regent of Day, and all th' Horizon round
　　Invested with bright Rayes, jocond to run
　　His Longitude through Heav'ns high rode: the gray
　　Dawn, and the Pleiades before him danc'd
　　Shedding sweet influence: less bright the Moon,
　　But opposite in leveld West was set
　　His mirror, with full face borrowing her Light
　　>From him, for other light she needed none
　　In that aspect, and still that distance keepes
　　Till night, then in the East her turn she shines, 380
　　Revolvd on Heav'ns great Axle, and her Reign
　　With thousand lesser Lights dividual holds,
　　With thousand thousand Starres, that then appeer'd
　　Spangling the Hemisphere: then first adornd
　　With thir bright Luminaries that Set and Rose,
　　Glad Eevning & glad Morn crownd the fourth day.
　　And God said, let the Waters generate
　　Reptil with Spawn abundant, living Soule:
　　And let Fowle flie above the Earth, with wings
　　Displayd on the op'n Firmament of Heav'n. 390
　　And God created the great Whales, and each
　　Soul living, each that crept, which plenteously
　　The waters generated by thir kindes,
　　And every Bird of wing after his kinde;
　　And saw that it was good, and bless'd them, saying,
　　Be fruitful, multiply, and in the Seas
　　And Lakes and running Streams the waters fill;
　　And let the Fowle be multiply'd on the Earth.
　　Forthwith the Sounds and Seas, each Creek & Bay
　　With Frie innumerable swarme, and Shoales 400
　　Of Fish that with thir Finns & shining Scales
　　Glide under the green Wave, in Sculles that oft
　　Bank the mid Sea: part single or with mate
　　Graze the Sea weed thir pasture, & through Groves
　　Of Coral stray, or sporting with quick glance
　　Show to the Sun thir wav'd coats dropt with Gold,
　　Or in thir Pearlie shells at ease, attend
　　Moist nutriment, or under Rocks thir food
　　In jointed Armour watch: on smooth the Seale,
　　And bended Dolphins play: part huge of bulk 410
　　Wallowing unweildie, enormous in thir Gate
　　Tempest the Ocean: there Leviathan
　　Hugest of living Creatures, on the Deep
　　Stretcht like a Promontorie sleeps or swimmes,
　　And seems a moving Land, and at his Gilles
　　Draws in, and at his Trunck spouts out a Sea.
　　Mean while the tepid Caves, and Fens and shoares
　　Thir Brood as numerous hatch, from the Egg that soon
　　Bursting with kindly rupture forth disclos'd
　　Thir callow young, but featherd soon and fledge 420
　　They summ'd thir Penns, and soaring th' air sublime
　　With clang despis'd the ground, under a cloud
　　In prospect; there the Eagle and the Stork
　　On Cliffs and Cedar tops thir Eyries build:
　　Part loosly wing the Region, part more wise
　　In common, rang'd in figure wedge thir way,
　　Intelligent of seasons, and set forth
　　Thir Aierie Caravan high over Sea's
　　Flying, and over Lands with mutual wing
　　Easing thir flight; so stears the prudent Crane 430
　　Her annual Voiage, born on Windes; the Aire
　　Floats, as they pass, fann'd with unnumber'd plumes:
　　>From Branch to Branch the smaller Birds with song
　　Solac'd the Woods, and spred thir painted wings
　　Till Ev'n, nor then the solemn Nightingal
　　Ceas'd warbling, but all night tun'd her soft layes:
　　Others on Silver Lakes and Rivers Bath'd
　　Thir downie Brest; the Swan with Arched neck
　　Between her white wings mantling proudly, Rowes
　　Her state with Oarie feet: yet oft they quit 440
　　The Dank, and rising on stiff Pennons, towre
　　The mid Aereal Skie: Others on ground
　　Walk'd firm; the crested Cock whose clarion sounds
　　The silent hours, and th' other whose gay Traine
　　Adorns him, colour'd with the Florid hue
　　Of Rainbows and Starrie Eyes. The Waters thus
　　With Fish replenisht, and the Aire with Fowle,
　　Ev'ning and Morn solemniz'd the Fift day.
　　The Sixt, and of Creation last arose
　　With Eevning Harps and Mattin, when God said, 450
　　Let th' Earth bring forth Fowle living in her kinde,
　　Cattel and Creeping things, and Beast of the Earth,
　　Each in their kinde. The Earth obey'd, and strait
　　Op'ning her fertil Woomb teem'd at a Birth
　　Innumerous living Creatures, perfet formes,
　　Limb'd and full grown: out of the ground up-rose
　　As from his Laire the wilde Beast where he wonns
　　In Forrest wilde, in Thicket, Brake, or Den;
　　Among the Trees in Pairs they rose, they walk'd:
　　The Cattel in the Fields and Meddowes green: 460
　　Those rare and solitarie, these in flocks
　　Pasturing at once, and in broad Herds upsprung:
　　The grassie Clods now Calv'd, now half appeer'd
　　The Tawnie Lion, pawing to get free
　　His hinder parts, then springs as broke from Bonds,
　　And Rampant shakes his Brinded main; the Ounce,
　　The Libbard, and the Tyger, as the Moale
　　Rising, the crumbl'd Earth above them threw
　　In Hillocks; the swift Stag from under ground
　　Bore up his branching head: scarse from his mould 470
　　Behemoth biggest born of Earth upheav'd
　　His vastness: Fleec't the Flocks and bleating rose,
　　As Plants: ambiguous between Sea and Land
　　The River Horse and scalie Crocodile.
　　At once came forth whatever creeps the ground,
　　Insect or Worme; those wav'd thir limber fans
　　For wings, and smallest Lineaments exact
　　In all the Liveries dect of Summers pride
　　With spots of Gold and Purple, azure and green:
　　These as a line thir long dimension drew, 480
　　Streaking the ground with sinuous trace; not all
　　Minims of Nature; some of Serpent kinde
　　Wondrous in length and corpulence involv'd
　　Thir Snakie foulds, and added wings. First crept
　　The Parsimonious Emmet, provident
　　Of future, in small room large heart enclos'd,
　　Pattern of just equalitie perhaps
　　Hereafter, join'd in her popular Tribes
　　Of Commonaltie: swarming next appeer'd
　　The Femal Bee that feeds her Husband Drone 490
　　Deliciously, and builds her waxen Cells
　　With Honey stor'd: the rest are numberless,
　　And thou thir Natures know'st, and gav'st them Names,
　　Needlest to thee repeated; nor unknown
　　The Serpent suttl'st Beast of all the field,
　　Of huge extent somtimes, with brazen Eyes
　　And hairie Main terrific, though to thee
　　Not noxious, but obedient at thy call.
　　Now Heav'n in all her Glorie shon, and rowld
　　Her motions, as the great first-Movers hand 500
　　First wheeld thir course; Earth in her rich attire
　　Consummate lovly smil'd; Aire, Water, Earth,
　　By Fowl, Fish, Beast, was flown, was swum, was walkt
　　Frequent; and of the Sixt day yet remain'd;
　　There wanted yet the Master work, the end
　　Of all yet don; a Creature who not prone
　　And Brute as other Creatures, but endu'd
　　With Sanctitie of Reason, might erect
　　His Stature, and upright with Front serene
　　Govern the rest, self-knowing, and from thence 510
　　Magnanimous to correspond with Heav'n,
　　But grateful to acknowledge whence his good
　　Descends, thither with heart and voice and eyes
　　Directed in Devotion, to adore
　　And worship God Supream, who made him chief
　　Of all his works: therefore the Omnipotent
　　Eternal Father (For where is not hee
　　Present) thus to his Son audibly spake.
　　Let us make now Man in our image, Man
　　In our similitude, and let them rule 520
　　Over the Fish and Fowle of Sea and Aire,
　　Beast of the Field, and over all the Earth,
　　And every creeping thing that creeps the ground.
　　This said, he formd thee, Adam, thee O Man
　　Dust of the ground, and in thy nostrils breath'd
　　The breath of Life; in his own Image hee
　　Created thee, in the Image of God
　　Express, and thou becam'st a living Soul.
　　Male he created thee, but thy consort
　　Femal for Race; then bless'd Mankinde, and said, 530
　　Be fruitful, multiplie, and fill the Earth,
　　Subdue it, and throughout Dominion hold
　　Over Fish of the Sea, and Fowle of the Aire,
　　And every living thing that moves on the Earth.
　　Wherever thus created, for no place
　　Is yet distinct by name, thence, as thou know'st
　　He brought thee into this delicious Grove,
　　This Garden, planted with the Trees of God,
　　Delectable both to behold and taste;
　　And freely all thir pleasant fruit for food 540
　　Gave thee, all sorts are here that all th' Earth yeelds,
　　Varietie without end; but of the Tree
　　Which tasted works knowledge of Good and Evil,
　　Thou mai'st not; in the day thou eat'st, thou di'st;
　　Death is the penaltie impos'd, beware,
　　And govern well thy appetite, least sin
　　Surprise thee, and her black attendant Death.
　　Here finish'd hee, and all that he had made
　　View'd, and behold all was entirely good;
　　So Ev'n and Morn accomplish'd the Sixt day: 550
　　Yet not till the Creator from his work
　　Desisting, though unwearied, up returnd
　　Up to the Heav'n of Heav'ns his high abode,
　　Thence to behold this new created World
　　Th' addition of his Empire, how it shew'd
　　In prospect from his Throne, how good, how faire,
　　Answering his great Idea. Up he rode
　　Followd with acclamation and the sound
　　Symphonious of ten thousand Harpes that tun'd
　　Angelic harmonies: the Earth, the Aire 560
　　Resounded, (thou remember'st, for thou heardst)
　　The Heav'ns and all the Constellations rung,
　　The Planets in thir stations list'ning stood,
　　While the bright Pomp ascended jubilant.
　　Open, ye everlasting Gates, they sung,
　　Open, ye Heav'ns, your living dores; let in
　　The great Creator from his work returnd
　　Magnificent, his Six days work, a World;
　　Open, and henceforth oft; for God will deigne
　　To visit oft the dwellings of just Men 570
　　Delighted, and with frequent intercourse
　　Thither will send his winged Messengers
　　On errands of supernal Grace. So sung
　　The glorious Train ascending: He through Heav'n,
　　That open'd wide her blazing Portals, led
　　To Gods Eternal house direct the way,
　　A broad and ample rode, whose dust is Gold
　　And pavement Starrs, as Starrs to thee appeer,
　　Seen in the Galaxie, that Milkie way
　　Which nightly as a circling Zone thou seest 580
　　Pouderd with Starrs. And now on Earth the Seaventh
　　Eev'ning arose in Eden, for the Sun
　　Was set, and twilight from the East came on,
　　Forerunning Night; when at the holy mount
　　Of Heav'ns high-seated top, th' Impereal Throne
　　Of Godhead, fixt for ever firm and sure,
　　The Filial Power arriv'd, and sate him down
　　With his great Father (for he also went
　　Invisible, yet staid (such priviledge
　　Hath Omnipresence) and the work ordain'd, 590
　　Author and end of all things, and from work
　　Now resting, bless'd and hallowd the Seav'nth day,
　　As resting on that day from all his work,
　　But not in silence holy kept; the Harp
　　Had work and rested not, the solemn Pipe,
　　And Dulcimer, all Organs of sweet stop,
　　All sounds on Fret by String or Golden Wire
　　Temper'd soft Tunings, intermixt with Voice
　　Choral or Unison: of incense Clouds
　　Fuming from Golden Censers hid the Mount. 600
　　Creation and the Six dayes acts they sung,
　　Great are thy works, Jehovah, infinite
　　Thy power; what thought can measure thee or tongue
　　Relate thee; greater now in thy return
　　Then from the Giant Angels; thee that day
　　Thy Thunders magnifi'd; but to create
　　Is greater then created to destroy.
　　Who can impair thee, mighty King, or bound
　　Thy Empire? easily the proud attempt
　　Of Spirits apostat and thir Counsels vaine 610
　　Thou hast repeld, while impiously they thought
　　Thee to diminish, and from thee withdraw
　　The number of thy worshippers. Who seekes
　　To lessen thee, against his purpose serves
　　To manifest the more thy might: his evil
　　Thou usest, and from thence creat'st more good.
　　Witness this new-made World, another Heav'n
　　>From Heaven Gate not farr, founded in view
　　On the cleer Hyaline, the Glassie Sea;
　　Of amplitude almost immense, with Starr's 620
　　Numerous, and every Starr perhaps a World
　　Of destind habitation; but thou know'st
　　Thir seasons: among these the seat of men,
　　Earth with her nether Ocean circumfus'd,
　　Thir pleasant dwelling place. Thrice happie men,
　　And sons of men, whom God hath thus advanc't,
　　Created in his Image, there to dwell
　　And worship him, and in reward to rule
　　Over his Works, on Earth, in Sea, or Air,
　　And multiply a Race of Worshippers 630
　　Holy and just: thrice happie if they know
　　Thir happiness, and persevere upright.
　　So sung they, and the Empyrean rung,
　　With Halleluiahs: Thus was Sabbath kept.
　　And thy request think now fulfill'd, that ask'd
　　How first this World and face of things began,
　　And what before thy memorie was don
　　>From the beginning, that posteritie
　　Informd by thee might know; if else thou seekst
　　Aught, not surpassing human measure, say. 640
　　
　　Notes:
　　451. Bentley's emendation of soul for fowl should be noted.
　　See Genesis i. 30 A. V. margin.
　　563 stations] station 1674
　　
　　The End of the Seventh Book
　　
　　
　　
　　BOOK VIII.
　　
　　
　　THE ARGUMENT.
　　
　　Adam inquires concerning celestial Motions, is doubtfully
　　answer'd and exhorted to search rather things more worthy of
　　knowledg: Adam assents, and still desirous to detain Raphael,
　　relates to him what he remember'd since his own Creation, his
　　placing in Paradise, his talk with God concerning solitude and
　　fit society, his first meeting and Nuptials with Eve, his discourse
　　with the Angel thereupon; who after admonitions repeated
　　departs.
　　
　　[THE Angel ended, and in Adams Eare
　　So Charming left his voice, that he a while
　　Thought him still speaking, still stood fixt to hear;
　　Then as new wak't thus gratefully repli'd.]
　　What thanks sufficient, or what recompence
　　Equal have I to render thee, Divine
　　Hystorian, who thus largely hast allayd
　　The thirst I had of knowledge, and voutsaf't
　　This friendly condescention to relate
　　Things else by me unsearchable, now heard 10
　　With wonder, but delight, and, as is due,
　　With glorie attributed to the high
　　Creator; some thing yet of doubt remaines,
　　Which onely thy solution can resolve.
　　When I behold this goodly Frame, this World
　　Of Heav'n and Earth consisting, and compute,
　　Thir magnitudes, this Earth a spot, a graine,
　　An Atom, with the Firmament compar'd
　　And all her numberd Starrs, that seem to rowle
　　Spaces incomprehensible (for such 20
　　Thir distance argues and thir swift return
　　Diurnal) meerly to officiate light
　　Round this opacous Earth, this punctual spot,
　　One day and night; in all thir vast survey
　　Useless besides, reasoning I oft admire,
　　How Nature wise and frugal could commit
　　Such disproportions, with superfluous hand
　　So many nobler Bodies to create,
　　Greater so manifold to this one use,
　　For aught appeers, and on thir Orbs impose 30
　　Such restless revolution day by day
　　Repeated, while the sedentarie Earth,
　　That better might with farr less compass move,
　　Serv'd by more noble then her self, attaines
　　Her end without least motion, and receaves,
　　As Tribute such a sumless journey brought
　　Of incorporeal speed, her warmth and light;
　　Speed, to describe whose swiftness Number failes.
　　So spake our Sire, and by his count'nance seemd
　　Entring on studious thoughts abstruse, which Eve 40
　　Perceaving where she sat retir'd in sight,
　　With lowliness Majestic from her seat,
　　And Grace that won who saw to wish her stay,
　　Rose, and went forth among her Fruits and Flours,
　　To visit how they prosper'd, bud and bloom,
　　Her Nurserie; they at her coming sprung
　　And toucht by her fair tendance gladlier grew.
　　Yet went she not, as not with such discourse
　　Delighted, or not capable her eare
　　Of what was high: such pleasure she reserv'd, 50
　　Adam relating, she sole Auditress;
　　Her Husband the Relater she preferr'd
　　Before the Angel, and of him to ask
　　Chose rather; hee, she knew would intermix
　　Grateful digressions, and solve high dispute
　　With conjugal Caresses, from his Lip
　　Not Words alone pleas'd her. O when meet now
　　Such pairs, in Love and mutual Honour joyn'd?
　　With Goddess-like demeanour forth she went;
　　Not unattended, for on her as Queen 60
　　A pomp of winning Graces waited still,
　　And from about her shot Darts of desire
　　Into all Eyes to wish her still in sight.
　　And Raphael now to Adam's doubt propos'd
　　Benevolent and facil thus repli'd.
　　To ask or search I blame thee not, for Heav'n
　　Is as the Book of God before thee set,
　　Wherein to read his wondrous Works, and learne
　　His Seasons, Hours, or Days, or Months, or Yeares:
　　This to attain, whether Heav'n move or Earth, 70
　　Imports not, if thou reck'n right, the rest
　　>From Man or Angel the great Architect
　　Did wisely to conceal, and not divulge
　　His secrets to be scann'd by them who ought
　　Rather admire; or if they list to try
　　Conjecture, he his Fabric of the Heav'ns
　　Hath left to thir disputes, perhaps to move
　　His laughter at thir quaint Opinions wide
　　Hereafter, when they come to model Heav'n
　　And calculate the Starrs, how they will weild 80
　　The mightie frame, how build, unbuild, contrive
　　To save appeerances, how gird the Sphear
　　With Centric and Eccentric scribl'd o're,
　　Cycle and Epicycle, Orb in Orb:
　　Alreadie by thy reasoning this I guess,
　　Who art to lead thy ofspring, and supposest
　　That Bodies bright and greater should not serve
　　The less not bright, nor Heav'n such journies run,
　　Earth sitting still, when she alone receaves
　　The benefit: consider first, that Great 90
　　Or Bright inferrs not Excellence: the Earth
　　Though, in comparison of Heav'n, so small,
　　Nor glistering, may of solid good containe
　　More plenty then the Sun that barren shines,
　　Whose vertue on it self workes no effect,
　　But in the fruitful Earth; there first receavd
　　His beams, unactive else, thir vigor find.
　　Yet not to Earth are those bright Luminaries
　　Officious, but to thee Earths habitant.
　　And for the Heav'ns wide Circuit, let it speak 100
　　The Makers high magnificence, who built
　　So spacious, and his Line stretcht out so farr;
　　That Man may know he dwells not in his own;
　　An Edifice too large for him to fill,
　　Lodg'd in a small partition, and the rest
　　Ordain'd for uses to his Lord best known.
　　The swiftness of those Circles attribute,
　　Though numberless, to his Omnipotence,
　　That to corporeal substances could adde
　　Speed almost Spiritual; mee thou thinkst not slow, 110
　　Who since the Morning hour set out from Heav'n
　　Where God resides, and ere mid-day arriv'd
　　In Eden, distance inexpressible
　　By Numbers that have name. But this I urge,
　　Admitting Motion in the Heav'ns, to shew
　　Invalid that which thee to doubt it mov'd;
　　Not that I so affirm, though so it seem
　　To thee who hast thy dwelling here on Earth.
　　God to remove his wayes from human sense,
　　Plac'd Heav'n from Earth so farr, that earthly sight, 120
　　If it presume, might erre in things too high,
　　And no advantage gaine. What if the Sun
　　Be Center to the World, and other Starrs
　　By his attractive vertue and thir own
　　Incited, dance about him various rounds?
　　Thir wandring course now high, now low, then hid,
　　Progressive, retrograde, or standing still,
　　In six thou seest, and what if sev'nth to these
　　The Planet Earth, so stedfast though she seem,
　　Insensibly three different Motions move? 130
　　Which else to several Sphears thou must ascribe,
　　Mov'd contrarie with thwart obliquities,
　　Or save the Sun his labour, and that swift
　　Nocturnal and Diurnal rhomb suppos'd,
　　Invisible else above all Starrs, the Wheele
　　Of Day and Night; which needs not thy beleefe,
　　If Earth industrious of her self fetch Day
　　Travelling East, and with her part averse
　　>From the Suns beam meet Night, her other part
　　Still luminous by his ray. What if that light 140
　　Sent from her through the wide transpicuous aire,
　　To the terrestrial Moon be as a Starr
　　Enlightning her by Day, as she by Night
　　This Earth? reciprocal, if Land be there,
　　Feilds and Inhabitants: Her spots thou seest
　　As Clouds, and Clouds may rain, and Rain produce
　　Fruits in her soft'nd Soile, for some to eate
　　Allotted there; and other Suns perhaps
　　With thir attendant Moons thou wilt descrie
　　Communicating Male and Femal Light, 150
　　Which two great Sexes animate the World,
　　Stor'd in each Orb perhaps with some that live.
　　For such vast room in Nature unpossest
　　By living Soule, desert and desolate,
　　Onely to shine, yet scarce to contribute
　　Each Orb a glimps of Light, conveyd so farr
　　Down to this habitable, which returnes
　　Light back to them, is obvious to dispute.
　　But whether thus these things, or whether not,
　　Whether the Sun predominant in Heav'n 160
　　Rise on the Earth, or Earth rise on the Sun,
　　Hee from the East his flaming rode begin,
　　Or Shee from West her silent course advance
　　With inoffensive pace that spinning sleeps
　　On her soft Axle, while she paces Eev'n,
　　And bears thee soft with the smooth Air along,
　　Sollicit not thy thoughts with matters hid,
　　Leave them to God above, him serve and feare;
　　Of other Creatures, as him pleases best,
　　Wherever plac't, let him dispose: joy thou 170
　　In what he gives to thee, this Paradise
　　And thy faire Eve; Heav'n is for thee too high
　　To know what passes there; be lowlie wise:
　　Think onely what concernes thee and thy being;
　　Dream not of other Worlds, what Creatures there
　　Live, in what state, condition or degree,
　　Contented that thus farr hath been reveal'd
　　Not of Earth onely but of highest Heav'n.
　　To whom thus Adam cleerd of doubt, repli'd.
　　How fully hast thou satisfi'd mee, pure 180
　　Intelligence of Heav'n, Angel serene,
　　And freed from intricacies, taught to live,
　　The easiest way, nor with perplexing thoughts
　　To interrupt the sweet of Life, from which
　　God hath bid dwell farr off all anxious cares,
　　And not molest us, unless we our selves
　　Seek them with wandring thoughts, and notions vaine.
　　But apt the Mind or Fancie is to roave
　　Uncheckt, and of her roaving is no end;
　　Till warn'd, or by experience taught, she learne, 190
　　That not to know at large of things remote
　　>From use, obscure and suttle, but to know
　　That which before us lies in daily life,
　　Is the prime Wisdom, what is more, is fume,
　　Or emptiness, or fond impertinence,
　　And renders us in things that most concerne
　　Unpractis'd, unprepar'd, and still to seek.
　　Therefore from this high pitch let us descend
　　A lower flight, and speak of things at hand
　　Useful, whence haply mention may arise 200
　　Of somthing not unseasonable to ask
　　By sufferance, and thy wonted favour deign'd.
　　Thee I have heard relating what was don
　　Ere my remembrance: now hear mee relate
　　My Storie, which perhaps thou hast not heard;
　　And Day is yet not spent; till then thou seest
　　How suttly to detaine thee I devise,
　　Inviting thee to hear while I relate,
　　Fond, were it not in hope of thy reply:
　　For while I sit with thee, I seem in Heav'n, 210
　　And sweeter thy discourse is to my eare
　　Then Fruits of Palm-tree pleasantest to thirst
　　And hunger both, from labour, at the houre
　　Of sweet repast; they satiate, and soon fill,
　　Though pleasant, but thy words with Grace Divine
　　Imbu'd, bring to thir sweetness no satietie.
　　To whom thus Raphael answer'd heav'nly meek.
　　Nor are thy lips ungraceful, Sire of men,
　　Nor tongue ineloquent; for God on thee
　　Abundantly his gifts hath also pour'd, 220
　　Inward and outward both, his image faire:
　　Speaking or mute all comliness and grace
　　Attends thee, and each word, each motion formes.
　　Nor less think wee in Heav'n of thee on Earth
　　Then of our fellow servant, and inquire
　　Gladly into the wayes of God with Man:
　　For God we see hath honour'd thee, and set
　　On Man his equal Love: say therefore on;
　　For I that Day was absent, as befell,
　　Bound on a voyage uncouth and obscure, 230
　　Farr on excursion toward the Gates of Hell;
　　Squar'd in full Legion (such command we had)
　　To see that none thence issu'd forth a spie,
　　Or enemie, while God was in his work,
　　Least hee incenst at such eruption bold,
　　Destruction with Creation might have mixt.
　　Not that they durst without his leave attempt,
　　But us he sends upon his high behests
　　For state, as Sovran King, and to enure
　　Our prompt obedience. Fast we found, fast shut 240
　　The dismal Gates, and barricado'd strong;
　　But long ere our approaching heard within
　　Noise, other then the sound of Dance or Song,
　　Torment, and lowd lament, and furious rage.
　　Glad we return'd up to the coasts of Light
　　Ere Sabbath Eev'ning: so we had in charge.
　　But thy relation now; for I attend,
　　Pleas'd with thy words no less then thou with mine.
　　So spake the Godlike Power, and thus our Sire.
　　For Man to tell how human Life began 250
　　Is hard; for who himself beginning knew?
　　Desire with thee still longer to converse
　　Induc'd me. As new wak't from soundest sleep
　　Soft on the flourie herb I found me laid
　　In Balmie Sweat, which with his Beames the Sun
　　Soon dri'd, and on the reaking moisture fed.
　　Strait toward Heav'n my wondring Eyes I turnd,
　　And gaz'd a while the ample Skie, till rais'd
　　By quick instinctive motion up I sprung,
　　As thitherward endevoring, and upright 260
　　Stood on my feet; about me round I saw
　　Hill, Dale, and shadie Woods, and sunnie Plaines,
　　And liquid Lapse of murmuring Streams; by these,
　　Creatures that livd, and movd, and walk'd, or flew,
　　Birds on the branches warbling; all things smil'd,
　　With fragrance and with joy my heart oreflow'd.
　　My self I then perus'd, and Limb by Limb
　　Survey'd, and sometimes went, and sometimes ran
　　With supple joints, as lively vigour led:
　　But who I was, or where, or from what cause, 270
　　Knew not; to speak I tri'd, and forthwith spake,
　　My Tongue obey'd and readily could name
　　What e're I saw. Thou Sun, said I, faire Light,
　　And thou enlight'nd Earth, so fresh and gay,
　　Ye Hills and Dales, ye Rivers, Woods, and Plaines,
　　And ye that live and move, fair Creatures, tell,
　　Tell, if ye saw, how came I thus, how here?
　　Not of my self; by some great Maker then,
　　In goodness and in power praeeminent;
　　Tell me, how may I know him, how adore, 280
　　>From whom I have that thus I move and live,
　　And feel that I am happier then I know.
　　While thus I call'd, and stray'd I knew not whither,
　　>From where I first drew Aire, and first beheld
　　This happie Light, when answer none return'd,
　　On a green shadie Bank profuse of Flours
　　Pensive I sate me down; there gentle sleep
　　First found me, and with soft oppression seis'd
　　My droused sense, untroubl'd, though I thought
　　I then was passing to my former state 290
　　Insensible, and forthwith to dissolve:
　　When suddenly stood at my Head a dream,
　　Whose inward apparition gently mov'd
　　My Fancy to believe I yet had being,
　　And livd: One came, methought, of shape Divine,
　　And said, thy Mansion wants thee, Adam, rise,
　　First Man, of Men innumerable ordain'd
　　First Father, call'd by thee I come thy Guide
　　To the Garden of bliss, thy seat prepar'd.
　　So saying, by the hand he took me rais'd, 300
　　And over Fields and Waters, as in Aire
　　Smooth sliding without step, last led me up
　　A woodie Mountain; whose high top was plaine,
　　A Circuit wide, enclos'd, with goodliest Trees
　　Planted, with Walks, and Bowers, that what I saw
　　Of Earth before scarse pleasant seemd. Each Tree
　　Load'n with fairest Fruit, that hung to the Eye
　　Tempting, stirr'd in me sudden appetite
　　To pluck and eate; whereat I wak'd, and found
　　Before mine Eyes all real, as the dream 310
　　Had lively shadowd: Here had new begun
　　My wandring, had not hee who was my Guide
　　Up hither, from among the Trees appeer'd,
　　Presence Divine. Rejoycing, but with aw
　　In adoration at his feet I fell
　　Submiss: he rear'd me, & Whom thou soughtst I am,
　　Said mildely, Author of all this thou seest
　　Above, or round about thee or beneath.
　　This Paradise I give thee, count it thine
　　To Till and keep, and of the Fruit to eate: 320
　　Of every Tree that in the Garden growes
　　Eate freely with glad heart; fear here no dearth:
　　But of the Tree whose operation brings
　　Knowledg of good and ill, which I have set
　　The Pledge of thy Obedience and thy Faith,
　　Amid the Garden by the Tree of Life,
　　Remember what I warne thee, shun to taste,
　　And shun the bitter consequence: for know,
　　The day thou eat'st thereof, my sole command
　　Transgrest, inevitably thou shalt dye; 330
　　>From that day mortal, and this happie State
　　Shalt loose, expell'd from hence into a World
　　Of woe and sorrow. Sternly he pronounc'd
　　The rigid interdiction, which resounds
　　Yet dreadful in mine eare, though in my choice
　　Not to incur; but soon his cleer aspect
　　Return'd and gratious purpose thus renew'd.
　　Not onely these fair bounds, but all the Earth
　　To thee and to thy Race I give; as Lords
　　Possess it, and all things that therein live, 340
　　Or live in Sea, or Aire, Beast, Fish, and Fowle.
　　In signe whereof each Bird and Beast behold
　　After thir kindes; I bring them to receave
　　>From thee thir Names, and pay thee fealtie
　　With low subjection; understand the same
　　Of Fish within thir watry residence,
　　Not hither summond, since they cannot change
　　Thir Element to draw the thinner Aire.
　　As thus he spake, each Bird and Beast behold
　　Approaching two and two, These cowring low 350
　　With blandishment, each Bird stoop'd on his wing.
　　I nam'd them, as they pass'd, and understood
　　Thir Nature, with such knowledg God endu'd
　　My sudden apprehension: but in these
　　I found not what me thought I wanted still;
　　And to the Heav'nly vision thus presum'd.
　　O by what Name, for thou above all these,
　　Above mankinde, or aught then mankinde higher,
　　Surpassest farr my naming, how may I
　　Adore thee, Author of this Universe, 360
　　And all this good to man, for whose well being
　　So amply, and with hands so liberal
　　Thou hast provided all things: but with mee
　　I see not who partakes. In solitude
　　What happiness, who can enjoy alone,
　　Or all enjoying, what contentment find?
　　Thus I presumptuous; and the vision bright,
　　As with a smile more bright'nd, thus repli'd.
　　What call'st thou solitude, is not the Earth
　　With various living creatures, and the Aire 370
　　Replenisht, and all these at thy command
　　To come and play before thee, know'st thou not
　　Thir language and thir wayes, they also know,
　　And reason not contemptibly; with these
　　Find pastime, and beare rule; thy Realm is large.
　　So spake the Universal Lord, and seem'd
　　So ordering. I with leave of speech implor'd,
　　And humble deprecation thus repli'd.
　　Let not my words offend thee, Heav'nly Power,
　　My Maker, be propitious while I speak. 380
　　Hast thou not made me here thy substitute,
　　And these inferiour farr beneath me set?
　　Among unequals what societie
　　Can sort, what harmonie or true delight?
　　Which must be mutual, in proportion due
　　Giv'n and receiv'd; but in disparitie
　　The one intense, the other still remiss
　　Cannot well suite with either, but soon prove
　　Tedious alike: Of fellowship I speak
　　Such as I seek, fit to participate 390
　　All rational delight, wherein the brute
　　Cannot be human consort; they rejoyce
　　Each with thir kinde, Lion with Lioness;
　　So fitly them in pairs thou hast combin'd;
　　Much less can Bird with Beast, or Fish with Fowle
　　So well converse, nor with the Ox the Ape;
　　Wors then can Man with Beast, and least of all.
　　Whereto th' Almighty answer'd, not displeas'd.
　　A nice and suttle happiness I see
　　Thou to thy self proposest, in the choice 400
　　Of thy Associates, Adam, and wilt taste
　　No pleasure, though in pleasure, solitarie.
　　What thinkst thou then of mee, and this my State,
　　Seem I to thee sufficiently possest
　　Of happiness, or not? who am alone
　　>From all Eternitie, for none I know
　　Second to mee or like, equal much less.
　　How have I then with whom to hold converse
　　Save with the Creatures which I made, and those
　　To me inferiour, infinite descents 410
　　Beneath what other Creatures are to thee?
　　He ceas'd, I lowly answer'd. To attaine
　　The highth and depth of thy Eternal wayes
　　All human thoughts come short, Supream of things;
　　Thou in thy self art perfet, and in thee
　　Is no deficience found; not so is Man,
　　But in degree, the cause of his desire
　　By conversation with his like to help,
　　Or solace his defects. No need that thou
　　Shouldst propagat, already infinite; 420
　　And through all numbers absolute, though One;
　　But Man by number is to manifest
　　His single imperfection, and beget
　　Like of his like, his Image multipli'd,
　　In unitie defective, which requires
　　Collateral love, and deerest amitie.
　　Thou in thy secresie although alone,
　　Best with thy self accompanied, seek'st not
　　Social communication, yet so pleas'd,
　　Canst raise thy Creature to what highth thou wilt 430
　　Of Union or Communion, deifi'd;
　　I by conversing cannot these erect
　　>From prone, nor in thir wayes complacence find.
　　Thus I embold'nd spake, and freedom us'd
　　Permissive, and acceptance found, which gain'd
　　This answer from the gratious voice Divine.
　　Thus farr to try thee, Adam, I was pleas'd,
　　And finde thee knowing not of Beasts alone,
　　Which thou hast rightly nam'd, but of thy self,
　　Expressing well the spirit within thee free, 440
　　My Image, not imparted to the Brute,
　　Whose fellowship therefore unmeet for thee
　　Good reason was thou freely shouldst dislike,
　　And be so minded still; I, ere thou spak'st,
　　Knew it not good for Man to be alone,
　　And no such companie as then thou saw'st
　　Intended thee, for trial onely brought,
　　To see how thou could'st judge of fit and meet:
　　What next I bring shall please thee, be assur'd,
　　Thy likeness, thy fit help, thy other self, 450
　　Thy wish, exactly to thy hearts desire.
　　Hee ended, or I heard no more, for now
　　My earthly by his Heav'nly overpowerd,
　　Which it had long stood under, streind to the highth
　　In that celestial Colloquie sublime,
　　As with an object that excels the sense,
　　Dazl'd and spent, sunk down, and sought repair
　　Of sleep, which instantly fell on me, call'd
　　By Nature as in aide, and clos'd mine eyes.
　　Mine eyes he clos'd, but op'n left the Cell 460
　　Of Fancie my internal sight, by which
　　Abstract as in a transe methought I saw,
　　Though sleeping, where I lay, and saw the shape
　　Still glorious before whom awake I stood;
　　Who stooping op'nd my left side, and took
　　>From thence a Rib, with cordial spirits warme,
　　And Life-blood streaming fresh; wide was the wound,
　　But suddenly with flesh fill'd up & heal'd:
　　The Rib he formd and fashond with his hands;
　　Under his forming hands a Creature grew, 470
　　Manlike, but different sex, so lovly faire,
　　That what seemd fair in all the World, seemd now
　　Mean, or in her summd up, in her containd
　　And in her looks, which from that time infus'd
　　Sweetness into my heart, unfelt before,
　　And into all things from her Aire inspir'd
　　The spirit of love and amorous delight.
　　She disappeerd, and left me dark, I wak'd
　　To find her, or for ever to deplore
　　Her loss, and other pleasures all abjure: 480
　　When out of hope, behold her, not farr off,
　　Such as I saw her in my dream, adornd
　　With what all Earth or Heaven could bestow
　　To make her amiable: On she came,
　　Led by her Heav'nly Maker, though unseen,
　　And guided by his voice, nor uninformd
　　Of nuptial Sanctitie and marriage Rites:
　　Grace was in all her steps, Heav'n in her Eye,
　　In every gesture dignitie and love.
　　I overjoyd could not forbear aloud. 490
　　This turn hath made amends; thou hast fulfill'd
　　Thy words, Creator bounteous and benigne,
　　Giver of all things faire, but fairest this
　　Of all thy gifts, nor enviest. I now see
　　Bone of my Bone, Flesh of my Flesh, my Self
　　Before me; Woman is her Name, of Man
　　Extracted; for this cause he shall forgoe
　　Father and Mother, and to his Wife adhere;
　　And they shall be one Flesh, one Heart, one Soule.
　　She heard me thus, and though divinely brought, 500
　　Yet Innocence and Virgin Modestie,
　　Her vertue and the conscience of her worth,
　　That would be woo'd, and not unsought be won,
　　Not obvious, not obtrusive, but retir'd,
　　The more desirable, or to say all,
　　Nature her self, though pure of sinful thought,
　　Wrought in her so, that seeing me, she turn'd;
　　I follow'd her, she what was Honour knew,
　　And with obsequious Majestie approv'd
　　My pleaded reason. To the Nuptial Bowre 510
　　I led her blushing like the Morn: all Heav'n,
　　And happie Constellations on that houre
　　Shed thir _select_est influence; the Earth
　　Gave sign of gratulation, and each Hill;
　　Joyous the Birds; fresh Gales and gentle Aires
　　Whisper'd it to the Woods, and from thir wings
　　Flung Rose, flung Odours from the spicie Shrub,
　　Disporting, till the amorous Bird of Night
　　Sung Spousal, and bid haste the Eevning Starr
　　On his Hill top, to light the bridal Lamp. 520
　　Thus I have told thee all my State, and brought
　　My Storie to the sum of earthly bliss
　　Which I enjoy, and must confess to find
　　In all things else delight indeed, but such
　　As us'd or not, works in the mind no change,
　　Nor vehement desire, these delicacies
　　I mean of Taste, Sight, Smell, Herbs, Fruits, & Flours,
　　Walks, and the melodie of Birds; but here
　　Farr otherwise, transported I behold,
　　Transported touch; here passion first I felt, 530
　　Commotion strange, in all enjoyments else
　　Superiour and unmov'd, here onely weake
　　Against the charm of Beauties powerful glance.
　　Or Nature faild in mee, and left some part
　　Not proof enough such Object to sustain,
　　Or from my side subducting, took perhaps
　　More then enough; at least on her bestow'd
　　Too much of Ornament, in outward shew
　　Elaborate, of inward less exact.
　　For well I understand in the prime end 540
　　Of Nature her th' inferiour, in the mind
　　And inward Faculties, which most excell,
　　In outward also her resembling less
　　His Image who made both, and less expressing
　　The character of that Dominion giv'n
　　O're other Creatures; yet when I approach
　　Her loveliness, so absolute she seems
　　And in her self compleat, so well to know
　　Her own, that what she wills to do or say,
　　Seems wisest, vertuousest, discreetest, best; 550
　　All higher knowledge in her presence falls
　　Degraded, Wisdom in discourse with her
　　Looses discount'nanc't, and like folly shewes;
　　Authoritie and Reason on her waite,
　　As one intended first, not after made
　　Occasionally; and to consummate all,
　　Greatness of mind and nobleness thir seat
　　Build in her loveliest, and create an awe
　　About her, as a guard Angelic plac't.
　　To whom the Angel with contracted brow. 560
　　Accuse not Nature, she hath don her part;
　　Do thou but thine, and be not diffident
　　Of Wisdom, she deserts thee not, if thou
　　Dismiss not her, when most thou needst her nigh,
　　By attributing overmuch to things
　　Less excellent, as thou thy self perceav'st.
　　For what admir'st thou, what transports thee so,
　　An outside? fair no doubt, and worthy well
　　Thy cherishing, thy honouring, and thy love,
　　Not thy subjection: weigh with her thy self; 570
　　Then value: Oft times nothing profits more
　　Then self-esteem, grounded on just and right
　　Well manag'd; of that skill the more thou know'st,
　　The more she will acknowledge thee her Head,
　　And to realities yeild all her shows;
　　Made so adorn for thy delight the more,
　　So awful, that with honour thou maist love
　　Thy mate, who sees when thou art seen least wise.
　　But if the sense of touch whereby mankind
　　Is propagated seem such dear delight 580
　　Beyond all other, think the same voutsaf't
　　To Cattel and each Beast; which would not be
　　To them made common & divulg'd, if aught
　　Therein enjoy'd were worthy to subdue
　　The Soule of Man, or passion in him move.
　　What higher in her societie thou findst
　　Attractive, human, rational, love still;
　　In loving thou dost well, in passion not,
　　Wherein true Love consists not; love refines
　　The thoughts, and heart enlarges, hath his seat 590
　　In Reason, and is judicious, is the scale
　　By which to heav'nly Love thou maist ascend,
　　Not sunk in carnal pleasure, for which cause
　　Among the Beasts no Mate for thee was found.
　　To whom thus half abash't Adam repli'd.
　　Neither her out-side formd so fair, nor aught
　　In procreation common to all kindes
　　(Though higher of the genial Bed by far,
　　And with mysterious reverence I deem)
　　So much delights me, as those graceful acts, 600
　　Those thousand decencies that daily flow
　　>From all her words and actions, mixt with Love
　　And sweet compliance, which declare unfeign'd
　　Union of Mind, or in us both one Soule;
　　Harmonie to behold in wedded pair
　　More grateful then harmonious sound to the eare.
　　Yet these subject not; I to thee disclose
　　What inward thence I feel, not therefore foild,
　　Who meet with various objects, from the sense
　　Variously representing; yet still free 610
　　Approve the best, and follow what I approve.
　　To love thou blam'st me not, for love thou saist
　　Leads up to Heav'n, is both the way and guide;
　　Bear with me then, if lawful what I ask;
　　Love not the heav'nly Spirits, and how thir Love
　　Express they, by looks onely, or do they mix
　　Irradiance, virtual or immediate touch?
　　To whom the Angel with a smile that glow'd
　　Celestial rosie red, Loves proper hue,
　　Answer'd. Let it suffice thee that thou know'st 620
　　Us happie, and without Love no happiness.
　　Whatever pure thou in the body enjoy'st
　　(And pure thou wert created) we enjoy
　　In eminence, and obstacle find none
　　Of membrane, joynt, or limb, exclusive barrs:
　　Easier then Air with Air, if Spirits embrace,
　　Total they mix, Union of Pure with Pure
　　Desiring; nor restrain'd conveyance need
　　As Flesh to mix with Flesh, or Soul with Soul.
　　But I can now no more; the parting Sun 630
　　Beyond the Earths green Cape and verdant Isles
　　Hesperean sets, my Signal to depart.
　　Be strong, live happie, and love, but first of all
　　Him whom to love is to obey, and keep
　　His great command; take heed least Passion sway
　　Thy Judgement to do aught, which else free Will
　　Would not admit; thine and of all thy Sons
　　The weal or woe in thee is plac't; beware.
　　I in thy persevering shall rejoyce,
　　And all the Blest: stand fast; to stand or fall 640
　　Free in thine own Arbitrement it lies.
　　Perfet within, no outward aid require;
　　And all temptation to transgress repel.
　　So saying, he arose; whom Adam thus
　　Follow'd with benediction. Since to part,
　　Go heavenly Guest, Ethereal Messenger,
　　Sent from whose sovran goodness I adore.
　　Gentle to me and affable hath been
　　Thy condescension, and shall be honour'd ever
　　With grateful Memorie: thou to mankind 650
　　Be good and friendly still, and oft return.
　　So parted they, the Angel up to Heav'n
　　>From the thick shade, and Adam to his Bowre.
　　
　　Notes:
　　1-4 These lines were added in the second edition (1674) when
　　Book VII was divided into two at line 640. Line 641 had read
　　'To whom thus Adam gratefully repli'd'.
　　269 as] and 1674.
　　
　　The End Of The Eighth Book.
　　
　　
　　
　　BOOK IX.
　　
　　
　　THE ARGUMENT.
　　
　　Satan having compast the Earth, with meditated guile returns as a
　　mist by Night into Paradise, enters into the Serpent sleeping.
　　Adam and Eve in the Morning go forth to thir labours, which Eve
　　proposes to divide in several places, each labouring apart: Adam
　　consents not, alledging the danger, lest that Enemy, of whom they
　　were forewarn'd, should attempt her found alone: Eve loath to be
　　thought not circumspect or firm enough, urges her going apart,
　　the rather desirous to make tryal of her strength; Adam at last
　　yields: The Serpent finds her alone; his subtle approach, first
　　gazing, then speaking with much flattery extolling Eve above all
　　other Creatures. Eve wondring to hear the Serpent speak, asks
　　how he attain'd to human speech and such understanding not till
　　now; the Serpent answers, that by tasting of a certain Tree in the
　　Garden he attain'd both to Speech and Reason, till then void of
　　both: Eve requires him to bring her to that Tree, and finds it to be
　　the Tree of Knowledge forbidden:The Serpent now grown bolder,
　　with many wiles and arguments induces her at length to eat; she
　　pleas'd with the taste deliberates awhile whether to impart thereof
　　to Adam or not, at last brings him of the Fruit, relates what
　　persuaded her to eat thereof: Adam at first amaz'd, but perceiving
　　her lost, resolves through vehemence of love to perish with her;
　　and extenuating the trespass, eats also of the Fruit: The effects
　　thereof in them both; they seek to cover thir nakedness; then fall
　　to variance and accusation of one another.
　　
　　No more of talk where God or Angel Guest
　　With Man, as with his Friend, familiar us'd
　　To sit indulgent, and with him partake
　　Rural repast, permitting him the while
　　Venial discourse unblam'd: I now must change
　　Those Notes to Tragic; foul distrust, and breach
　　Disloyal on the part of Man, revolt
　　And disobedience: On the part of Heav'n
　　Now alienated, distance and distaste,
　　Anger and just rebuke, and judgement giv'n, 10
　　That brought into this World a world of woe,
　　Sinne and her shadow Death, and Miserie
　　Deaths Harbinger: Sad task, yet argument
　　Not less but more Heroic then the wrauth
　　Of stern Achilles on his Foe pursu'd
　　Thrice Fugitive about Troy Wall; or rage
　　Of Turnus for Lavinia disespous'd,
　　Or Neptun's ire or Juno's, that so long
　　Perplex'd the Greek and Cytherea's Son;
　　If answerable style I can obtaine 20
　　Of my Celestial Patroness, who deignes
　　Her nightly visitation unimplor'd,
　　And dictates to me slumbring, or inspires
　　Easie my unpremeditated Verse:
　　Since first this subject for Heroic Song
　　Pleas'd me long choosing, and beginning late;
　　Not sedulous by Nature to indite
　　Warrs, hitherto the onely Argument
　　Heroic deem'd, chief maistrie to dissect
　　With long and tedious havoc fabl'd Knights 30
　　In Battels feign'd; the better fortitude
　　Of Patience and Heroic Martyrdom
　　Unsung; or to describe Races and Games,
　　Or tilting Furniture, emblazon'd Shields,
　　Impreses quaint, Caparisons and Steeds;
　　Bases and tinsel Trappings, gorgious Knights
　　At Joust and Torneament; then marshal'd Feast
　　Serv'd up in Hall with Sewers, and Seneshals;
　　The skill of Artifice or Office mean,
　　Not that which justly gives Heroic name 40
　　To Person or to Poem. Mee of these
　　Nor skilld nor studious, higher Argument
　　Remaines, sufficient of it self to raise
　　That name, unless an age too late, or cold
　　Climat, or Years damp my intended wing
　　Deprest, and much they may, if all be mine,
　　Not Hers who brings it nightly to my Ear.
　　The Sun was sunk, and after him the Starr
　　Of Hesperus, whose Office is to bring
　　Twilight upon the Earth, short Arbiter 50
　　Twixt Day and Night, and now from end to end
　　Nights Hemisphere had veild the Horizon round:
　　When Satan who late fled before the threats
　　Of Gabriel out of Eden, now improv'd
　　In meditated fraud and malice, bent
　　On mans destruction, maugre what might hap
　　Of heavier on himself, fearless return'd.
　　By Night he fled, and at Midnight return'd
　　>From compassing the Earth, cautious of day,
　　Since Uriel Regent of the Sun descri'd 60
　　His entrance, and forewarnd the Cherubim
　　That kept thir watch; thence full of anguish driv'n,
　　The space of seven continu'd Nights he rode
　　With darkness, thrice the Equinoctial Line
　　He circl'd, four times cross'd the Carr of Night
　　>From Pole to Pole, traversing each Colure;
　　On the eighth return'd, and on the Coast averse
　　>From entrance or Cherubic Watch, by stealth
　　Found unsuspected way. There was a place,
　　Now not, though Sin, not Time, first wraught the change, 70
　　Where Tigris at the foot of Paradise
　　Into a Gulf shot under ground, till part
　　Rose up a Fountain by the Tree of Life;
　　In with the River sunk, and with it rose
　　Satan involv'd in rising Mist, then sought
　　Where to lie hid; Sea he had searcht and Land
　　>From Eden over Pontus, and the Poole
　　Maeotis, up beyond the River Ob;
　　Downward as farr Antartic; and in length
　　West from Orantes to the Ocean barr'd 80
　　At Darien, thence to the Land where flowes
　　Ganges and Indus: thus the Orb he roam'd
　　With narrow search; and with inspection deep
　　Consider'd every Creature, which of all
　　Most opportune might serve his Wiles, and found
　　The Serpent suttlest Beast of all the Field.
　　Him after long debate, irresolute
　　Of thoughts revolv'd, his final sentence chose
　　Fit Vessel, fittest Imp of fraud, in whom
　　To enter, and his dark suggestions hide 90
　　>From sharpest sight: for in the wilie Snake,
　　Whatever sleights none would suspicious mark,
　　As from his wit and native suttletie
　　Proceeding, which in other Beasts observ'd
　　Doubt might beget of Diabolic pow'r
　　Active within beyond the sense of brute.
　　Thus he resolv'd, but first from inward griefe
　　His bursting passion into plaints thus pour'd:
　　O Earth, how like to Heav'n, if not preferrd
　　More justly, Seat worthier of Gods, as built 100
　　With second thoughts, reforming what was old!
　　For what God after better worse would build?
　　Terrestrial Heav'n, danc't round by other Heav'ns
　　That shine, yet bear thir bright officious Lamps,
　　Light above Light, for thee alone, as seems,
　　In thee concentring all thir precious beams
　　Of sacred influence: As God in Heav'n
　　Is Center, yet extends to all, so thou
　　Centring receav'st from all those Orbs; in thee,
　　Not in themselves, all thir known vertue appeers 110
　　Productive in Herb, Plant, and nobler birth
　　Of Creatures animate with gradual life
　　Of Growth, Sense, Reason, all summ'd up in Man.
　　With what delight could I have walkt thee round
　　If I could joy in aught, sweet interchange
　　Of Hill and Vallie, Rivers, Woods and Plaines,
　　Now Land, now Sea, & Shores with Forrest crownd,
　　Rocks, Dens, and Caves; but I in none of these
　　Find place or refuge; and the more I see
　　Pleasures about me, so much more I feel 120
　　Torment within me, as from the hateful siege
　　Of contraries; all good to me becomes
　　Bane, and in Heav'n much worse would be my state.
　　But neither here seek I, no nor in Heav'n
　　To dwell, unless by maistring Heav'ns Supreame;
　　Nor hope to be my self less miserable
　　By what I seek, but others to make such
　　As I though thereby worse to me redound:
　　For onely in destroying I finde ease
　　To my relentless thoughts; and him destroyd, 130
　　Or won to what may work his utter loss,
　　For whom all this was made, all this will soon
　　Follow, as to him linkt in weal or woe,
　　In wo then; that destruction wide may range:
　　To mee shall be the glorie sole among
　　The infernal Powers, in one day to have marr'd
　　What he Almightie styl'd, six Nights and Days
　　Continu'd making, and who knows how long
　　Before had bin contriving, though perhaps
　　Not longer then since I in one Night freed 140
　　>From servitude inglorious welnigh half
　　Th' Angelic Name, and thinner left the throng
　　Of his adorers: hee to be aveng'd,
　　And to repaire his numbers thus impair'd,
　　Whether such vertue spent of old now faild
　　More Angels to Create, if they at least
　　Are his Created or to spite us more,
　　Determin'd to advance into our room
　　A Creature form'd of Earth, and him endow,
　　Exalted from so base original, 150
　　With Heav'nly spoils, our spoils: What he decreed
　　He effected; Man he made, and for him built
　　Magnificent this World, and Earth his seat,
　　Him Lord pronounc'd, and, O indignitie!
　　Subjected to his service Angel wings,
　　And flaming Ministers to watch and tend
　　Thir earthlie Charge: Of these the vigilance
　　I dread, and to elude, thus wrapt in mist
　　Of midnight vapor glide obscure, and prie
　　In every Bush and Brake, where hap may finde 160
　　The Serpent sleeping, in whose mazie foulds
　　To hide me, and the dark intent I bring.
　　O foul descent! that I who erst contended
　　With Gods to sit the highest, am now constraind
　　Into a Beast, and mixt with bestial slime,
　　This essence to incarnate and imbrute,
　　That to the hight of Deitie aspir'd;
　　But what will not Ambition and Revenge
　　Descend to? who aspires must down as low
　　As high he soard, obnoxious first or last 170
　　To basest things. Revenge, at first though sweet,
　　Bitter ere long back on it self recoiles;
　　Let it; I reck not, so it light well aim'd,
　　Since higher I fall short, on him who next
　　Provokes my envie, this new Favorite
　　Of Heav'n, this Man of Clay, Son of despite,
　　Whom us the more to spite his Maker rais'd
　　>From dust: spite then with spite is best repaid.
　　So saying, through each Thicket Danck or Drie,
　　Like a black mist low creeping, he held on 180
　　His midnight search, where soonest he might finde
　　The Serpent: him fast sleeping soon he found
　　In Labyrinth of many a round self-rowl'd,
　　His head the midst, well stor'd with suttle wiles:
　　Not yet in horrid Shade or dismal Den,
　　Not nocent yet, but on the grassie Herbe
　　Fearless unfeard he slept: in at his Mouth
　　The Devil enterd, and his brutal sense,
　　In heart or head, possessing soon inspir'd
　　With act intelligential; but his sleep 190
　　Disturbd not, waiting close th' approach of Morn.
　　Now whenas sacred Light began to dawne
　　In Eden on the humid Flours, that breathd
　　Thir morning Incense, when all things that breath,
　　>From th' Earths great Altar send up silent praise
　　To the Creator, and his Nostrils fill
　　With gratefull Smell, forth came the human pair
　　And joynd thir vocal Worship to the Quire
　　Of Creatures wanting voice, that done, partake
　　The season, prime for sweetest Sents and Aires: 200
　　Then commune how that day they best may ply
　　Thir growing work: for much thir work outgrew
　　The hands dispatch of two Gardning so wide.
　　And Eve first to her Husband thus began.
　　Adam, well may we labour still to dress
　　This Garden, still to tend Plant, Herb and Flour.
　　Our pleasant task enjoyn'd, but till more hands
　　Aid us, the work under our labour grows,
　　Luxurious by restraint; what we by day
　　Lop overgrown, or prune, or prop, or bind, 210
　　One night or two with wanton growth derides
　　Tending to wilde. Thou therefore now advise
　　Or hear what to my mind first thoughts present,
　　Let us divide our labours, thou where choice
　　Leads thee, or where most needs, whether to wind
　　The Woodbine round this Arbour, or direct
　　The clasping Ivie where to climb, while I
　　In yonder Spring of Roses intermixt
　　With Myrtle, find what to redress till Noon:
　　For while so near each other thus all day 220
　　Our task we choose, what wonder if no near
　　Looks intervene and smiles, or object new
　　Casual discourse draw on, which intermits
　　Our dayes work brought to little, though begun
　　Early, and th' hour of Supper comes unearn'd.
　　To whom mild answer Adam thus return'd.
　　Sole Eve, Associate sole, to me beyond
　　Compare above all living Creatures deare,
　　Well hast thou motion'd, wel thy thoughts imployd
　　How we might best fulfill the work which here 230
　　God hath assign'd us, nor of me shalt pass
　　Unprais'd: for nothing lovelier can be found
　　In woman, then to studie houshold good,
　　And good workes in her Husband to promote.
　　Yet not so strictly hath our Lord impos'd
　　Labour, as to debarr us when we need
　　Refreshment, whether food, or talk between,
　　Food of the mind, or this sweet intercourse
　　Of looks and smiles, for smiles from Reason flow,
　　To brute deni'd, and are of Love the food, 240
　　Love not the lowest end of human life.
　　For not to irksom toile, but to delight
　　He made us, and delight to Reason joyn'd.
　　These paths and Bowers doubt not but our joynt
　　Will keep from Wilderness with ease, as wide
　　As we need walk, till younger hands ere long
　　Assist us: But if much converse perhaps
　　Thee satiate, to short absence I could yeild.
　　For solitude somtimes is best societie,
　　And short retirement urges sweet returne. 250
　　But other doubt possesses me, least harm
　　Befall thee sever'd from me; for thou knowst
　　What hath bin warn'd us, what malicious Foe
　　Envying our happiness, and of his own
　　Despairing, seeks to work us woe and shame
　　By sly assault; and somwhere nigh at hand
　　Watches, no doubt, with greedy hope to find
　　His wish and best advantage, us asunder,
　　Hopeless to circumvent us joynd, where each
　　To other speedie aide might lend at need; 260
　　Whether his first design be to withdraw
　　Our fealtie from God, or to disturb
　　Conjugal Love, then which perhaps no bliss
　　Enjoy'd by us excites his envie more;
　　Or this, or worse, leave not the faithful side
　　That gave thee being, stil shades thee and protects.
　　The Wife, where danger or dishonour lurks,
　　Safest and seemliest by her Husband staies,
　　Who guards her, or with her the worst endures.
　　To whom the Virgin Majestie of Eve, 270
　　As one who loves, and some unkindness meets,
　　With sweet austeer composure thus reply'd.
　　Ofspring of Heav'n and Earth, and all Earths Lord,
　　That such an enemie we have, who seeks
　　Our ruin, both by thee informd I learne,
　　And from the parting Angel over-heard
　　As in a shadie nook I stood behind,
　　Just then returnd at shut of Evening Flours.
　　But that thou shouldst my firmness therefore doubt
　　To God or thee, because we have a foe 280
　　May tempt it, I expected not to hear.
　　His violence thou fearst not, being such,
　　As wee, not capable of death or paine,
　　Can either not receave, or can repell.
　　His fraud is then thy fear, which plain inferrs
　　Thy equal fear that my firm Faith and Love
　　Can by his fraud be shak'n or seduc't;
　　Thoughts, which how found they harbour in thy Brest,
　　Adam, misthought of her to thee so dear?
　　To whom with healing words Adam reply'd. 290
　　Daughter of God and Man, immortal Eve,
　　For such thou art, from sin and blame entire:
　　Not diffident of thee do I dissuade
　　Thy absence from my sight, but to avoid
　　Th' attempt it self, intended by our Foe.
　　For hee who tempts, though in vain, at least asperses
　　The tempted with dishonour foul, suppos'd
　　Not incorruptible of Faith, not prooff
　　Against temptation: thou thy self with scorne
　　And anger wouldst resent the offer'd wrong, 300
　　Though ineffectual found: misdeem not then,
　　If such affront I labour to avert
　　>From thee alone, which on us both at once
　　The Enemie, though bold, will hardly dare,
　　Or daring, first on mee th' assault shall light.
　　Nor thou his malice and false guile contemn;
　　Suttle he needs must be, who could seduce
　　Angels, nor think superfluous others aid.
　　I from the influence of thy looks receave
　　Access in every Vertue, in thy sight 310
　　More wise, more watchful, stronger, if need were
　　Of outward strength; while shame, thou looking on,
　　Shame to be overcome or over-reacht
　　Would utmost vigor raise, and rais'd unite.
　　Why shouldst not thou like sense within thee feel
　　When I am present, and thy trial choose
　　With me, best witness of thy Vertue tri'd.
　　So spake domestick Adam in his care
　　And Matrimonial Love, but Eve, who thought
　　Less attributed to her Faith sincere, 320
　　Thus her reply with accent sweet renewd.
　　If this be our condition, thus to dwell
　　In narrow circuit strait'nd by a Foe,
　　Suttle or violent, we not endu'd
　　Single with like defence, wherever met,
　　How are we happie, still in fear of harm?
　　But harm precedes not sin: onely our Foe
　　Tempting affronts us with his foul esteem
　　Of our integritie: his foul esteeme
　　Sticks no dishonor on our Front, but turns 330
　　Foul on himself; then wherfore shund or feard
　　By us? who rather double honour gaine
　　>From his surmise prov'd false, finde peace within,
　　Favour from Heav'n, our witness from th' event.
　　And what is Faith, Love, Vertue unassaid
　　Alone, without exterior help sustaind?
　　Let us not then suspect our happie State
　　Left so imperfet by the Maker wise,
　　As not secure to single or combin'd.
　　Fraile is our happiness, if this be so, 340
　　And Eden were no Eden thus expos'd.
　　To whom thus Adam fervently repli'd.
　　O Woman, best are all things as the will
　　Of God ordaind them, his creating hand
　　Nothing imperfet or deficient left
　　Of all that he Created, much less Man,
　　Or ought that might his happie State secure,
　　Secure from outward force; within himself
　　The danger lies, yet lies within his power:
　　Against his will he can receave no harme. 350
　　But God left free the Will, for what obeyes
　　Reason, is free, and Reason he made right,
　　But bid her well beware, and still erect,
　　Least by some faire appeering good surpris'd
　　She dictate false, and missinforme the Will
　　To do what God expresly hath forbid.
　　Not then mistrust, but tender love enjoynes,
　　That I should mind thee oft, and mind thou me.
　　Firm we subsist, yet possible to swerve,
　　Since Reason not impossibly may meet 360
　　Some specious object by the Foe subornd,
　　And fall into deception unaware,
　　Not keeping strictest watch, as she was warnd.
　　Seek not temptation then, which to avoide
　　Were better, and most likelie if from mee
　　Thou sever not; Trial will come unsought.
　　Wouldst thou approve thy constancie, approve
　　First thy obedience; th' other who can know,
　　Not seeing thee attempted, who attest?
　　But if thou think, trial unsought may finde 370
　　Us both securer then thus warnd thou seemst,
　　Go; for thy stay, not free, absents thee more;
　　Go in thy native innocence, relie
　　On what thou hast of vertue, summon all,
　　For God towards thee hath done his part, do thine.
　　So spake the Patriarch of Mankinde, but Eve
　　Persisted, yet submiss, though last, repli'd.
　　With thy permission then, and thus forewarnd
　　Chiefly by what thy own last reasoning words
　　Touchd onely, that our trial, when least sought, 380
　　May finde us both perhaps farr less prepar'd,
　　The willinger I goe, nor much expect
　　A Foe so proud will first the weaker seek;
　　So bent, the more shall shame him his repulse.
　　Thus saying, from her Husbands hand her hand
　　Soft she withdrew, and like a Wood-Nymph light
　　Oread or Dryad, or of Delia's Traine,
　　Betook her to the Groves, but Delia's self
　　In gate surpass'd and Goddess-like deport,
　　Though not as shee with Bow and Quiver armd, 390
　　But with such Gardning Tools as Are yet rude,
　　Guiltless of fire had formd, or Angels brought,
　　To Pales, or Pomona, thus adornd,
　　Likest she seemd, Pomona when she fled
　　Vertumnus, or to Ceres in her Prime,
　　Yet Virgin of Proserpina from Jove.
　　Her long with ardent look his Eye pursu'd
　　Delighted, but desiring more her stay.
　　Oft he to her his charge of quick returne,
　　Repeated, shee to him as oft engag'd 400
　　To be returnd by Noon amid the Bowre,
　　And all things in best order to invite
　　Noontide repast, or Afternoons repose.
　　O much deceav'd, much failing, hapless Eve,
　　Of thy presum'd return! event perverse!
　　Thou never from that houre in Paradise
　　Foundst either sweet repast, or found repose;
　　Such ambush hid among sweet Flours and Shades
　　Waited with hellish rancor imminent
　　To intercept thy way, or send thee back 410
　　Despoild of Innocence, of Faith, of Bliss.
　　For now, and since first break of dawne the Fiend,
　　Meer Serpent in appearance, forth was come,
　　And on his Quest, where likeliest he might finde
　　The onely two of Mankinde, but in them
　　The whole included Race, his purposd prey.
　　In Bowre and Field he sought, where any tuft
　　Of Grove or Garden-Plot more pleasant lay,
　　Thir tendance or Plantation for delight,
　　By Fountain or by shadie Rivulet 420
　　He sought them both, but wish'd his hap might find
　　Eve separate, he wish'd, but not with hope
　　Of what so seldom chanc'd, when to his wish,
　　Beyond his hope, Eve separate he spies,
　　Veild in a Cloud of Fragrance, where she stood,
　　Half spi'd, so thick the Roses bushing round
　　About her glowd, oft stooping to support
　　Each Flour of slender stalk, whose head though gay
　　Carnation, Purple, Azure, or spect with Gold,
　　Hung drooping unsustaind, them she upstaies 430
　　Gently with Mirtle band, mindless the while,
　　Her self, though fairest unsupported Flour,
　　>From her best prop so farr, and storm so nigh.
　　Neerer he drew, and many a walk travers'd
　　Of stateliest Covert, Cedar, Pine, or Palme,
　　Then voluble and bold, now hid, now seen
　　Among thick-wov'n Arborets and Flours
　　Imborderd on each Bank, the hand of Eve:
　　Spot more delicious then those Gardens feign'd
　　Or of reviv'd Adonis, or renownd 440
　　Alcinous, host of old Laertes Son,
　　Or that, not Mystic, where the Sapient King
　　Held dalliance with his faire Egyptian Spouse.
　　Much hee the Place admir'd, the Person more.
　　As one who long in populous City pent,
　　Where Houses thick and Sewers annoy the Aire,
　　Forth issuing on a Summers Morn, to breathe
　　Among the pleasant Villages and Farmes
　　Adjoynd, from each thing met conceaves delight,
　　The smell of Grain, or tedded Grass, or Kine, 450
　　Or Dairie, each rural sight, each rural sound;
　　If chance with Nymphlike step fair Virgin pass,
　　What pleasing seemd, for her now pleases more,
　　She most, and in her look summs all Delight.
　　Such Pleasure took the Serpent to behold
　　This Flourie Plat, the sweet recess of Eve
　　Thus earlie, thus alone; her Heav'nly forme
　　Angelic, but more soft, and Feminine,
　　Her graceful Innocence, her every Aire
　　Of gesture or lest action overawd 460
　　His Malice, and with rapine sweet bereav'd
　　His fierceness of the fierce intent it brought:
　　That space the Evil one abstracted stood
　　>From his own evil, and for the time remaind
　　Stupidly good, of enmitie disarm'd,
　　Of guile, of hate, of envie, of revenge;
　　But the hot Hell that alwayes in him burnes,
　　Though in mid Heav'n, soon ended his delight,
　　And tortures him now more, the more he sees
　　Of pleasure not for him ordain'd: then soon 470
　　Fierce hate he recollects, and all his thoughts
　　Of mischief, gratulating, thus excites.
　　Thoughts, whither have he led me, with what sweet
　　Compulsion thus transported to forget
　　What hither brought us, hate, not love, nor hope
　　Of Paradise for Hell, hope here to taste
　　Of pleasure, but all pleasure to destroy,
　　Save what is in destroying, other joy
　　To me is lost. Then let me not let pass
　　Occasion which now smiles, behold alone 480
　　The Woman, opportune to all attempts,
　　Her Husband, for I view far round, not nigh,
　　Whose higher intellectual more I shun,
　　And strength, of courage hautie, and of limb
　　Heroic built, though of terrestrial mould,
　　Foe not informidable, exempt from wound,
　　I not; so much hath Hell debas'd, and paine
　　Infeebl'd me, to what I was in Heav'n.
　　Shee fair, divinely fair, fit Love for Gods,
　　Not terrible, though terrour be in Love 490
　　And beautie, not approacht by stronger hate,
　　Hate stronger, under shew of Love well feign'd,
　　The way which to her ruin now I tend.
　　So spake the Enemie of Mankind, enclos'd
　　In Serpent, Inmate bad, and toward Eve
　　Address'd his way, not with indented wave,
　　Prone on the ground, as since, but on his reare,
　　Circular base of rising foulds, that tour'd
　　Fould above fould a surging Maze, his Head
　　Crested aloft, and Carbuncle his Eyes; 500
　　With burnisht Neck of verdant Gold, erect
　　Amidst his circling Spires, that on the grass
　　Floted redundant: pleasing was his shape,
　　And lovely, never since of Serpent kind
　　Lovelier, not those that in Illyria chang'd
　　Hermione and Cadmus, or the God
　　In Epidaurus; nor to which transformd
　　Ammonian Jove, or Capitoline was seen,
　　Hee with Olympias, this with her who bore
　　Scipio the highth of Rome. With tract oblique 510
　　At first, as one who sought access, but feard
　　To interrupt, side-long he works his way.
　　As when a Ship by skilful Stearsman wrought
　　Nigh Rivers mouth or Foreland, where the Wind
　　Veres oft, as oft so steers, and shifts her Saile;
　　So varied hee, and of his tortuous Traine
　　Curld many a wanton wreath in sight of Eve,
　　To lure her Eye; shee busied heard the sound
　　Of rusling Leaves, but minded not, as us'd
　　To such disport before her through the Field, 520
　　>From every Beast, more duteous at her call,
　　Then at Circean call the Herd disguis'd.
　　Hee boulder now, uncall'd before her stood;
　　But as in gaze admiring: Oft he bowd
　　His turret Crest, and sleek enamel'd Neck,
　　Fawning, and lick'd the ground whereon she trod.
　　His gentle dumb expression turnd at length
　　The Eye of Eve to mark his play; he glad
　　Of her attention gaind, with Serpent Tongue
　　Organic, or impulse of vocal Air, 530
　　His fraudulent temptation thus began.
　　Wonder not, sovran Mistress, if perhaps
　　Thou canst, who art sole Wonder, much less arm
　　Thy looks, the Heav'n of mildness, with disdain,
　　Displeas'd that I approach thee thus, and gaze
　　Insatiate, I thus single; nor have feard
　　Thy awful brow, more awful thus retir'd.
　　Fairest resemblance of thy Maker faire,
　　Thee all living things gaze on, all things thine
　　By gift, and thy Celestial Beautie adore 540
　　With ravishment beheld, there best beheld
　　Where universally admir'd; but here
　　In this enclosure wild, these Beasts among,
　　Beholders rude, and shallow to discerne
　　Half what in thee is fair, one man except,
　　Who sees thee? (and what is one?) who shouldst be seen
　　A Goddess among Gods, ador'd and serv'd
　　By Angels numberless, thy daily Train.
　　So gloz'd the Tempter, and his Proem tun'd;
　　Into the Heart of Eve his words made way, 550
　　Though at the voice much marveling; at length
　　Not unamaz'd she thus in answer spake.
　　What may this mean? Language of Man pronounc't
　　By Tongue of Brute, and human sense exprest?
　　The first at lest of these I thought deni'd
　　To Beasts, whom God on their Creation-Day
　　Created mute to all articulat sound;
　　The latter I demurre, for in thir looks
　　Much reason, and in thir actions oft appeers.
　　Thee, Serpent, suttlest beast of all the field 560
　　I knew, but not with human voice endu'd;
　　Redouble then this miracle, and say,
　　How cam'st thou speakable of mute, and how
　　To me so friendly grown above the rest
　　Of brutal kind, that daily are in sight?
　　Say, for such wonder claims attention due.
　　To whom the guileful Tempter thus reply'd.
　　Empress of this fair World, resplendent Eve,
　　Easie to mee it is to tell thee all
　　What thou commandst, and right thou shouldst be obeyd: 570
　　I was at first as other Beasts that graze
　　The trodden Herb, of abject thoughts and low,
　　As was my food, nor aught but food discern'd
　　Or Sex, and apprehended nothing high:
　　Till on a day roaving the field, I chanc'd
　　A goodly Tree farr distant to behold
　　Loaden with fruit of fairest colours mixt,
　　Ruddie and Gold: I nearer drew to gaze;
　　When from the boughes a savorie odour blow'n,
　　Grateful to appetite, more pleas'd my sense 580
　　Then smell of sweetest Fenel, or the Teats
　　Of Ewe or Goat dropping with Milk at Eevn,
　　Unsuckt of Lamb or Kid, that tend thir play.
　　To satisfie the sharp desire I had
　　Of tasting those fair Apples, I resolv'd
　　Not to deferr; hunger and thirst at once,
　　Powerful perswaders, quick'nd at the scent
　　Of that alluring fruit, urg'd me so keene.
　　About the Mossie Trunk I wound me soon,
　　For high from ground the branches would require 590
　　Thy utmost reach or Adams: Round the Tree
　　All other Beasts that saw, with like desire
　　Longing and envying stood, but could not reach.
　　Amid the Tree now got, where plentie hung
　　Tempting so nigh, to pluck and eat my fill
　　I spar'd not, for such pleasure till that hour
　　At Feed or Fountain never had I found.
　　Sated at length, ere long I might perceave
　　Strange alteration in me, to degree
　　Of Reason in my inward Powers, and Speech 600
　　Wanted not long, though to this shape retaind.
　　Thenceforth to Speculations high or deep
　　I turnd my thoughts, and with capacious mind
　　Considerd all things visible in Heav'n,
　　Or Earth, or Middle, all things fair and good;
　　But all that fair and good in thy Divine
　　Semblance, and in thy Beauties heav'nly Ray
　　United I beheld; no Fair to thine
　　Equivalent or second, which compel'd
　　Mee thus, though importune perhaps, to come 610
　　And gaze, and worship thee of right declar'd
　　Sovran of Creatures, universal Dame.
　　So talk'd the spirited sly Snake; and Eve
　　Yet more amaz'd unwarie thus reply'd.
　　Serpent, thy overpraising leaves in doubt
　　The vertue of that Fruit, in thee first prov'd:
　　But say, where grows the Tree, from hence how far?
　　For many are the Trees of God that grow
　　In Paradise, and various, yet unknown
　　To us, in such abundance lies our choice, 620
　　As leaves a greater store of Fruit untoucht,
　　Still hanging incorruptible, till men
　　Grow up to thir provision, and more hands
　　Help to disburden Nature of her Bearth.
　　To whom the wilie Adder, blithe and glad.
　　Empress, the way is readie, and not long,
　　Beyond a row of Myrtles, on a Flat,
　　Fast by a Fountain, one small Thicket past
　　Of blowing Myrrh and Balme; if thou accept
　　My conduct, I can bring thee thither soon. 630
　　Lead then, said Eve. Hee leading swiftly rowld
　　In tangles, and make intricate seem strait,
　　To mischief swift. Hope elevates, and joy
　　Bright'ns his Crest, as when a wandring Fire
　　Compact of unctuous vapor, which the Night
　　Condenses, and the cold invirons round,
　　Kindl'd through agitation to a Flame,
　　Which oft, they say, some evil Spirit attends,
　　Hovering and blazing with delusive Light,
　　Misleads th' amaz'd Night-wanderer from his way 640
　　To Boggs and Mires, & oft through Pond or Poole,
　　There swallow'd up and lost, from succour farr.
　　So glister'd the dire Snake and into fraud
　　Led Eve our credulous Mother, to the Tree
　　Of prohibition, root of all our woe;
　　Which when she saw, thus to her guide she spake.
　　Serpent, we might have spar'd our coming hither,
　　Fruitless to me, though Fruit be here to excess,
　　The credit of whose vertue rest with thee,
　　Wondrous indeed, if cause of such effects. 650
　　But of this Tree we may not taste nor touch;
　　God so commanded, and left that Command
　　Sole Daughter of his voice; the rest, we live
　　Law to our selves, our Reason is our Law.
　　To whom the Tempter guilefully repli'd.
　　Indeed? hath God then said that of the Fruit
　　Of all these Garden Trees ye shall not eate,
　　Yet Lords declar'd of all in Earth or Aire?
　　To whom thus Eve yet sinless. Of the Fruit
　　Of each Tree in the Garden we may eate, 660
　　But of the Fruit of this fair Tree amidst
　　The Garden, God hath said, Ye shall not eate
　　Thereof, nor shall ye touch it, least ye die.
　　She scarse had said, though brief, when now more bold
　　The Tempter, but with shew of Zeale and Love
　　To Man, and indignation at his wrong,
　　New part puts on, and as to passion mov'd,
　　Fluctuats disturbd, yet comely, and in act
　　Rais'd, as of som great matter to begin.
　　As when of old som Orator renound 670
　　In Athens or free Rome, where Eloquence
　　Flourishd, since mute, to som great cause addrest,
　　Stood in himself collected, while each part,
　　Motion, each act won audience ere the tongue,
　　Somtimes in highth began, as no delay
　　Of Preface brooking through his Zeal of Right.
　　So standing, moving, or to highth upgrown
　　The Tempter all impassiond thus began.
　　O Sacred, Wise, and Wisdom-giving Plant,
　　Mother of Science, Now I feel thy Power 680
　　Within me cleere, not onely to discerne
　　Things in thir Causes, but to trace the wayes
　　Of highest Agents, deemd however wise.
　　Queen of this Universe, doe not believe
　　Those rigid threats of Death; ye shall not Die:
　　How should ye? by the Fruit? it gives you Life
　　To Knowledge? By the Threatner, look on mee,
　　Mee who have touch'd and tasted, yet both live,
　　And life more perfet have attaind then Fate
　　Meant mee, by ventring higher then my Lot. 690
　　Shall that be shut to Man, which to the Beast
　　Is open? or will God incense his ire
　　For such a pretty Trespass, and not praise
　　Rather your dauntless vertue, whom the pain
　　Of Death denounc't, whatever thing Death be,
　　Deterrd not from atchieving what might leade
　　To happier life, knowledge of Good and Evil;
　　Of good, how just? of evil, if what is evil
　　Be real, why not known, since easier shunnd?
　　God therefore cannot hurt ye, and be just; 700
　　Not just, not God; not feard then, nor obeid:
　　Your feare it self of Death removes the feare.
　　Why then was this forbid? Why but to awe,
　　Why but to keep ye low and ignorant,
　　His worshippers; he knows that in the day
　　Ye Eate thereof, your Eyes that seem so cleere,
　　Yet are but dim, shall perfetly be then
　　Op'nd and cleerd, and ye shall be as Gods,
　　Knowing both Good and Evil as they know.
　　That ye should be as Gods, since I as Man, 710
　　Internal Man, is but proportion meet,
　　I of brute human, yee of human Gods.
　　So ye shalt die perhaps, by putting off
　　Human, to put on Gods, death to be wisht,
　　Though threat'nd, which no worse then this can bring
　　And what are Gods that Man may not become
　　As they, participating God-like food?
　　The Gods are first, and that advantage use
　　On our belief, that all from them proceeds,
　　I question it, for this fair Earth I see, 720
　　Warm'd by the Sun, producing every kind,
　　Them nothing: If they all things, who enclos'd
　　Knowledge of Good and Evil in this Tree,
　　That whoso eats thereof, forthwith attains
　　Wisdom without their leave? and wherein lies
　　Th' offence, that Man should thus attain to know?
　　What can your knowledge hurt him, or this Tree
　　Impart against his will if all be his?
　　Or is it envie, and can envie dwell
　　In heav'nly brests? these, these and many more 730
　　Causes import your need of this fair Fruit.
　　Goddess humane, reach then, and freely taste.
　　He ended, and his words replete with guile
　　Into her heart too easie entrance won:
　　Fixt on the Fruit she gaz'd, which to behold
　　Might tempt alone, and in her ears the sound
　　Yet rung of his perswasive words, impregn'd
　　With Reason, to her seeming, and with Truth;
　　Meanwhile the hour of Noon drew on, and wak'd
　　An eager appetite, rais'd by the smell 740
　　So savorie of that Fruit, which with desire,
　　Inclinable now grown to touch or taste,
　　Sollicited her longing eye; yet first
　　Pausing a while, thus to her self she mus'd.
　　Great are thy Vertues, doubtless, best of Fruits,
　　Though kept from Man, & worthy to be admir'd,
　　Whose taste, too long forborn, at first assay
　　Gave elocution to the mute, and taught
　　The Tongue not made for Speech to speak thy praise:
　　Thy praise hee also who forbids thy use, 750
　　Conceales not from us, naming thee the Tree
　　Of Knowledge, knowledge both of good and evil;
　　Forbids us then to taste, but his forbidding
　　Commends thee more, while it inferrs the good
　　By thee communicated, and our want:
　　For good unknown, sure is not had, or had
　　And yet unknown, is as not had at all.
　　In plain then, what forbids he but to know,
　　Forbids us good, forbids us to be wise?
　　Such prohibitions binde not. But if Death 760
　　Bind us with after-bands, what profits then
　　Our inward freedom? In the day we eate
　　Of this fair Fruit, our doom is, we shall die.
　　How dies the Serpent? hee hath eat'n and lives,
　　And knows, and speaks, and reasons, and discernes,
　　Irrational till then. For us alone
　　Was death invented? or to us deni'd
　　This intellectual food, for beasts reserv'd?
　　For Beasts it seems: yet that one Beast which first
　　Hath tasted, envies not, but brings with joy 770
　　The good befall'n him, Author unsuspect,
　　Friendly to man, farr from deceit or guile.
　　What fear I then, rather what know to feare
　　Under this ignorance of Good and Evil,
　　Of God or Death, of Law or Penaltie?
　　Here grows the Cure of all, this Fruit Divine,
　　Fair to the Eye, inviting to the Taste,
　　Of vertue to make wise: what hinders then
　　To reach, and feed at once both Bodie and Mind?
　　So saying, her rash hand in evil hour 780
　　Forth reaching to the Fruit, she pluck'd, she eat:
　　Earth felt the wound, and Nature from her seat
　　Sighing through all her Works gave signs of woe,
　　That all was lost. Back to the Thicket slunk
　　The guiltie Serpent, and well might, for Eve
　　Intent now wholly on her taste, naught else
　　Regarded, such delight till then, as seemd,
　　In Fruit she never tasted, whether true
　　Or fansied so, through expectation high
　　Of knowledg, nor was God-head from her thought. 790
　　Greedily she ingorg'd without restraint,
　　And knew not eating Death: Satiate at length,
　　And hight'nd as with Wine, jocond and boon,
　　Thus to her self she pleasingly began.
　　O Sovran, vertuous, precious of all Trees
　　In Paradise, of operation blest
　　To Sapience, hitherto obscur'd, infam'd,
　　And thy fair Fruit let hang, as to no end
　　Created; but henceforth my early care,
　　Not without Song, each Morning, and due praise 800
　　Shall tend thee, and the fertil burden ease
　　Of thy full branches offer'd free to all;
　　Till dieted by thee I grow mature
　　In knowledge, as the Gods who all things know;
　　Though others envie what they cannot give;
　　For had the gift bin theirs, it had not here
　　Thus grown. Experience, next to thee I owe,
　　Best guide; not following thee, I had remaind
　　In ignorance, thou op'nst Wisdoms way,
　　And giv'st access, though secret she retire. 810
　　And I perhaps am secret; Heav'n is high,
　　High and remote to see from thence distinct
　　Each thing on Earth; and other care perhaps
　　May have diverted from continual watch
　　Our great Forbidder, safe with all his Spies
　　About him. But to Adam in what sort
　　Shall I appeer? shall I to him make known
　　As yet my change, and give him to partake
　　Full happiness with mee, or rather not,
　　But keep the odds of Knowledge in my power 820
　　Without Copartner? so to add what wants
　　In Femal Sex, the more to draw his Love,
　　And render me more equal, and perhaps
　　A thing not undesireable, somtime
　　Superior; for inferior who is free?
　　This may be well: but what if God have seen,
　　And Death ensue? then I shall be no more,
　　And Adam wedded to another Eve,
　　Shall live with her enjoying, I extinct;
　　A death to think. Confirm'd then I resolve, 830
　　Adam shall share with me in bliss or woe:
　　So dear I love him, that with him all deaths
　　I could endure; without him live no life.
　　So saying, from the Tree her step she turnd,
　　But first low Reverence don, as to the power
　　That dwelt within, whose presence had infus'd
　　Into the plant sciential sap, deriv'd
　　>From Nectar, drink of Gods. Adam the while
　　Waiting desirous her return, had wove
　　Of choicest Flours a Garland to adorne 840
　　Her Tresses, and her rural labours crown
　　As Reapers oft are wont thir Harvest Queen.
　　Great joy he promis'd to his thoughts, and new
　　Solace in her return, so long delay'd;
　　Yet oft his heart, divine of somthing ill,
　　Misgave him; hee the faultring measure felt;
　　And forth to meet her went, the way she took
　　That Morn when first they parted; by the Tree
　　Of Knowledge he must pass, there he her met,
　　Scarse from the Tree returning; in her hand 850
　　A bough of fairest fruit that downie smil'd,
　　New gatherd, and ambrosial smell diffus'd.
　　To him she hasted, in her face excuse
　　Came Prologue, and Apologie to prompt,
　　Which with bland words at will she thus addrest.
　　Hast thou not wonderd, Adam, at my stay?
　　Thee I have misst, and thought it long, depriv'd
　　Thy presence, agonie of love till now
　　Not felt, nor shall be twice, for never more
　　Mean I to trie, what rash untri'd I sought, 860
　　The paine of absence from thy sight. But strange
　　Hath bin the cause, and wonderful to heare:
　　This Tree is not as we are told, a Tree
　　Of danger tasted, nor to evil unknown
　　Op'ning the way, but of Divine effect
　　To open Eyes, and make them Gods who taste;
　　And hath bin tasted such; the Serpent wise,
　　Or not restraind as wee, or not obeying,
　　Hath eat'n of the fruit, and is become,
　　Not dead, as we are threatn'd, but thenceforth 870
　　Endu'd with human voice and human sense,
　　Reasoning to admiration, and with mee
　　Perswasively hath so prevaild, that I
　　Have also tasted, and have also found
　　Th' effects to correspond, opener mine Eyes,
　　Dimm erst, dilated Spirits, ampler Heart,
　　And growing up to Godhead; which for thee
　　Chiefly I sought, without thee can despise.
　　For bliss, as thou hast part, to me is bliss,
　　Tedious, unshar'd with thee, and odious soon. 880
　　Thou therefore also taste, that equal Lot
　　May joyne us, equal Joy, as equal Love;
　　Least thou not tasting, different degree
　　Disjoyne us, and I then too late renounce
　　Deitie for thee, when Fate will not permit.
　　Thus Eve with Countnance blithe her storie told;
　　But in her Cheek distemper flushing glowd.
　　On th' other side, Adam, soon as he heard
　　The fatal Trespass don by Eve, amaz'd,
　　Astonied stood and Blank, while horror chill 890
　　Ran through his veins, and all his joynts relax'd;
　　>From his slack hand the Garland wreath'd for Eve
　　Down drop'd, and all the faded Roses shed:
　　Speechless he stood and pale, till thus at length
　　First to himself he inward silence broke.
　　O fairest of Creation, last and best
　　Of all Gods Works, Creature in whom excell'd
　　Whatever can to fight or thought be found,
　　Holy, divine, good, amiable, or sweet!
　　How art thou lost, how on a sudden lost, 900
　　Defac't, deflourd, and now to Death devote?
　　Rather how hast thou yeelded to transgress
　　The strict forbiddance, how to violate
　　The sacred Fruit forbidd'n! som cursed fraud
　　Of Enemie hath beguil'd thee, yet unknown,
　　And mee with thee hath ruind, for with thee
　　Certain my resolution is to Die;
　　How can I live without thee, how forgoe
　　Thy sweet Converse and Love so dearly joyn'd,
　　To live again in these wilde Woods forlorn? 910
　　Should God create another Eve, and I
　　Another Rib afford, yet loss of thee
　　Would never from my heart; no no, I feel
　　The Link of Nature draw me: Flesh of Flesh,
　　Bone of my Bone thou art, and from thy State
　　Mine never shall be parted, bliss or woe.
　　So having said, as one from sad dismay
　　Recomforted, and after thoughts disturbd
　　Submitting to what seemd remediless,
　　Thus in calme mood his Words to Eve he turnd. 920
　　Bold deed thou hast presum'd, adventrous Eve,
　　And peril great provok't, who thus hast dar'd
　　Had it bin onely coveting to Eye
　　That sacred Fruit, sacred to abstinence,
　　Much more to taste it under banne to touch.
　　But past who can recall, or don undoe?
　　Not God omnipotent, for Fate, yet so
　　Perhaps thou shalt not Die, perhaps the Fact
　　Is not so hainous now, foretasted Fruit,
　　Profan'd first by the Serpent, by him first 930
　　Made common and unhallowd: ere one tastes;
　　Nor yet on him found deadly; he yet lives,
　　Lives, as thou saidst, and gaines to live as Man
　　Higher degree of Life, inducement strong
　　To us, as likely tasting to attaine
　　Proportional ascent, which cannot be
　　But to be Gods, or Angels Demi-gods.
　　Nor can I think that God, Creator wise,
　　Though threatning, will in earnest so destroy
　　Us his prime Creatures, dignifi'd so high, 940
　　Set over all his Works, which in our Fall,
　　For us created, needs with us must faile,
　　Dependent made; so God shall uncreate,
　　Be frustrate, do, undo, and labour loose,
　　Not well conceav'd of God, who though his Power
　　Creation could repeate, yet would be loath
　　Us to abolish, least the Adversary
　　Triumph and say; Fickle their State whom God
　　Most Favors, who can please him long? Mee first
　　He ruind, now Mankind; whom will he next? 950
　　Matter of scorne, not to be given the Foe.
　　However I with thee have fixt my Lot,
　　Certain to undergoe like doom, if Death
　　Consort with thee, Death is to mee as Life;
　　So forcible within my heart I feel
　　The Bond of Nature draw me to my owne,
　　My own in thee, for what thou art is mine;
　　Our State cannot be severd, we are one,
　　One Flesh; to loose thee were to loose my self.
　　So Adam, and thus Eve to him repli'd. 960
　　O glorious trial of exceeding Love,
　　Illustrious evidence, example high!
　　Ingaging me to emulate, but short
　　Of thy perfection, how shall I attaine,
　　Adam, from whose deare side I boast me sprung,
　　And gladly of our Union heare thee speak,
　　One Heart, one Soul in both; whereof good prooff
　　This day affords, declaring thee resolvd,
　　Rather then Death or aught then Death more dread
　　Shall separate us, linkt in Love so deare, 970
　　To undergoe with mee one Guilt, one Crime,
　　If any be, of tasting this fair Fruit,
　　Whose vertue, for of good still good proceeds,
　　Direct, or by occasion hath presented
　　This happie trial of thy Love, which else
　　So eminently never had bin known.
　　Were it I thought Death menac't would ensue
　　This my attempt, I would sustain alone
　　The worst, and not perswade thee, rather die
　　Deserted, then oblige thee with a fact 980
　　Pernicious to thy Peace, chiefly assur'd
　　Remarkably so late of thy so true,
　　So faithful Love unequald; but I feel
　　Farr otherwise th' event, not Death, but Life
　　Augmented, op'nd Eyes, new Hopes, new Joyes,
　　Taste so Divine, that what of sweet before
　　Hath toucht my sense, flat seems to this, and harsh.
　　On my experience, Adam, freely taste,
　　And fear of Death deliver to the Windes.
　　So saying, she embrac'd him, and for joy 990
　　Tenderly wept, much won that he his Love
　　Had so enobl'd, as of choice to incurr
　　Divine displeasure for her sake, or Death.
　　In recompence (for such compliance bad
　　Such recompence best merits) from the bough
　　She gave him of that fair enticing Fruit
　　With liberal hand: he scrupl'd not to eat
　　Against his better knowledge, not deceav'd,
　　But fondly overcome with Femal charm.
　　Earth trembl'd from her entrails, as again 1000
　　In pangs, and Nature gave a second groan,
　　Skie lowr'd, and muttering Thunder, som sad drops
　　Wept at compleating of the mortal Sin
　　Original; while Adam took no thought,
　　Eating his fill, nor Eve to iterate
　　Her former trespass fear'd, the more to soothe
　　Him with her lov'd societie, that now
　　As with new Wine intoxicated both
　　They swim in mirth, and fansie that they feel
　　Divinitie within them breeding wings 1010
　　Wherewith to scorn the Earth: but that false Fruit
　　Farr other operation first displaid,
　　Carnal desire enflaming, hee on Eve
　　Began to cast lascivious Eyes, she him
　　As wantonly repaid; in Lust they burne:
　　Till Adam thus 'gan Eve to dalliance move.
　　Eve, now I see thou art exact of taste,
　　And elegant, of Sapience no small part,
　　Since to each meaning savour we apply,
　　And Palate call judicious; I the praise 1020
　　Yeild thee, so well this day thou hast purvey'd.
　　Much pleasure we have lost, while we abstain'd
　　>From this delightful Fruit, nor known till now
　　True relish, tasting; if such pleasure be
　　In things to us forbidden, it might be wish'd,
　　For this one Tree had bin forbidden ten.
　　But come, so well refresh't, now let us play,
　　As meet is, after such delicious Fare;
　　For never did thy Beautie since the day
　　I saw thee first and wedded thee, adorn'd 1030
　　With all perfections, so enflame my sense
　　With ardor to enjoy thee, fairer now
　　Then ever, bountie of this vertuous Tree.
　　So said he, and forbore not glance or toy
　　Of amorous intent, well understood
　　Of Eve, whose Eye darted contagious Fire.
　　Her hand he seis'd, and to a shadie bank,
　　Thick overhead with verdant roof imbowr'd
　　He led her nothing loath; Flours were the Couch,
　　Pansies, and Violets, and Asphodel, 1040
　　And Hyacinth, Earths freshest softest lap.
　　There they thir fill of Love and Loves disport
　　Took largely, of thir mutual guilt the Seale,
　　The solace of thir sin, till dewie sleep
　　Oppress'd them, wearied with thir amorous play.
　　Soon as the force of that fallacious Fruit,
　　That with exhilerating vapour bland
　　About thir spirits had plaid, and inmost powers
　　Made erre, was now exhal'd, and grosser sleep
　　Bred of unkindly fumes, with conscious dreams 1050
　　Encumberd, now had left them, up they rose
　　As from unrest, and each the other viewing,
　　Soon found thir Eyes how op'nd, and thir minds
　　How dark'nd; innocence, that as a veile
　　Had shadow'd them from knowing ill, was gon,
　　Just confidence, and native righteousness,
　　And honour from about them, naked left
　　To guiltie shame hee cover'd, but his Robe
　　Uncover'd more. So rose the Danite strong
　　Herculean Samson from the Harlot-lap 1060
　　Of Philistean Dalilah, and wak'd
　　Shorn of his strength, They destitute and bare
　　Of all thir vertue: silent, and in face
　　Confounded long they sate, as struck'n mute,
　　Till Adam, though not less then Eve abasht,
　　At length gave utterance to these words constraind.
　　O Eve, in evil hour thou didst give care
　　To that false Worm, of whomsoever taught
　　To counterfet Mans voice, true in our Fall,
　　False in our promis'd Rising; since our Eyes 1070
　　Op'nd we find indeed, and find we know
　　Both Good and Evil, Good lost and Evil got,
　　Bad Fruit of Knowledge, if this be to know,
　　Which leaves us naked thus, of Honour void,
　　Of Innocence, of Faith, of Puritie,
　　Our wonted Ornaments now soild and staind,
　　And in our Faces evident the signes
　　Of foul concupiscence; whence evil store;
　　Even shame, the last of evils; of the first
　　Be sure then. How shall I behold the face 1080
　　Henceforth of God or Angel, earst with joy
　　And rapture so oft beheld? those heav'nly shapes
　　Will dazle now this earthly, with thir blaze
　　Insufferably bright. O might I here
　　In solitude live savage, in some glad
　　Obscur'd, where highest Woods impenetrable
　　To Starr or Sun-light, spread thir umbrage broad,
　　And brown as Evening: Cover me ye Pines,
　　Ye Cedars, with innumerable boughs
　　Hide me, where I may never see them more. 1090
　　But let us now, as in bad plight, devise
　　What best may for the present serve to hide
　　The Parts of each from other, that seem most
　　To shame obnoxious, and unseemliest seen,
　　Some Tree whose broad smooth Leaves together sowd,
　　And girded on our loyns, may cover round
　　Those middle parts, that this new commer, Shame,
　　There sit not, and reproach us as unclean.
　　So counsel'd hee, and both together went
　　Into the thickest Wood, there soon they chose 1100
　　The Figtree, not that kind for Fruit renown'd,
　　But such as at this day to Indians known
　　In Malabar or Decan spreds her Armes
　　Braunching so broad and long, that in the ground
　　The bended Twigs take root, and Daughters grow
　　About the Mother Tree, a Pillard shade
　　High overarch't, and echoing Walks between;
　　There oft the Indian Herdsman shunning heate
　　Shelters in coole, and tends his pasturing Herds
　　At Loopholes cut through thickest shade: Those Leaves 1110
　　They gatherd, broad as Amazonian Targe,
　　And with what skill they had, together sowd,
　　To gird thir waste, vain Covering if to hide
　　Thir guilt and dreaded shame; O how unlike
　　To that first naked Glorie. Such of late
　　Columbus found th' American to girt
　　With featherd Cincture, naked else and wilde
　　Among the Trees on Iles and woodie Shores.
　　Thus fenc't, and as they thought, thir shame in part
　　Coverd, but not at rest or ease of Mind, 1120
　　They sate them down to weep, nor onely Teares
　　Raind at thir Eyes, but high Winds worse within
　　Began to rise, high Passions, Anger, Hate,
　　Mistrust, Suspicion, Discord, and shook sore
　　Thir inward State of Mind, calme Region once
　　And full of Peace, now tost and turbulent:
　　For Understanding rul'd not, and the Will
　　Heard not her lore, both in subjection now
　　To sensual Appetite, who from beneathe
　　Usurping over sovran Reason claimd 1130
　　Superior sway: From thus distemperd brest,
　　Adam, estrang'd in look and alterd stile,
　　Speech intermitted thus to Eve renewd.
　　Would thou hadst heark'nd to my words, & stai'd
　　With me, as I besought thee, when that strange
　　Desire of wandring this unhappie Morn,
　　I know not whence possessd thee; we had then
　　Remaind still happie, not as now, despoild
　　Of all our good, sham'd, naked, miserable.
　　Let none henceforth seek needless cause to approve 1140
　　The Faith they owe; when earnestly they seek
　　Such proof, conclude, they then begin to faile.
　　To whom soon mov'd with touch of blame thus Eve.
　　What words have past thy Lips, Adam severe,
　　Imput'st thou that to my default, or will
　　Of wandering, as thou call'st it, which who knows
　　But might as ill have happ'nd thou being by,
　　Or to thy self perhaps: hadst thou bin there,
　　Or bere th' attempt, thou couldst not have discernd
　　Fraud in the Serpent, speaking as he spake; 1150
　　No ground of enmitie between us known,
　　Why hee should mean me ill, or seek to harme.
　　Was I to have never parted from thy side?
　　As good have grown there still a liveless Rib.
　　Being as I am, why didst not thou the Head
　　Command me absolutely not to go,
　　Going into such danger as thou saidst?
　　Too facil then thou didst not much gainsay,
　　Nay, didst permit, approve, and fair dismiss.
　　Hadst thou bin firm and fixt in thy dissent, 1160
　　Neither had I transgress'd, nor thou with mee.
　　To whom then first incenst Adam repli'd.
　　Is this the Love, is the recompence
　　Of mine to thee, ingrateful Eve, exprest
　　Immutable when thou wert lost, not I,
　　Who might have liv'd and joyd immortal bliss,
　　Yet willingly chose rather Death with thee:
　　And am I now upbraided, as the cause
　　Of thy transgressing? not enough severe,
　　It seems, in thy restraint: what could I more? 1170
　　I warn'd thee, I admonish'd thee, foretold
　　The danger, and the lurking Enemie
　　That lay in wait; beyond this had bin force,
　　And force upon free Will hath here no place.
　　But confidence then bore thee on, secure
　　Either to meet no danger, or to finde
　　Matter of glorious trial; and perhaps
　　I also err'd in overmuch admiring
　　What seemd in thee so perfet, that I thought
　　No evil durst attempt thee, but I rue 1180
　　That errour now, which is become my crime,
　　And thou th' accuser. Thus it shall befall
　　Him who to worth in Women overtrusting
　　Lets her Will rule; restraint she will not brook,
　　And left to her self, if evil thence ensue,
　　Shee first his weak indulgence will accuse.
　　Thus they in mutual accusation spent
　　The fruitless hours, but neither self-condemning
　　And of thir vain contest appeer'd no end.
　　
　　Notes:
　　186 not] nor 1674.
　　213 hear] bear 1674.
　　394 Likest] likeliest 1674.
　　922 hast] hath 1674.
　　
　　The End Of The Ninth Book.
　　
　　
　　
　　BOOK X.
　　
　　
　　THE ARGUMENT.
　　
　　Mans transgression known, the Guardian Angels forsake
　　Paradise, and return up to Heaven to approve thir vigilance, and
　　are approv'd, God declaring that The entrance of Satan could not
　　be by them prevented. He sends his Son to judge the
　　Transgressors, who descends and gives Sentence accordingly;
　　then in pity cloaths them both, and reascends. Sin and Death
　　sitting till then at the Gates of Hell by wondrous sympathie feeling
　　the success of Satan in this new World, and the sin by Man there
　　committed, resolve to sit no longer confin'd in Hell, but to follow
　　Satan thir Sire up to the place of Man: To make the way easier
　　from Hell to this World to and fro, they pave a broad Highway or
　　Bridge over Chaos, according to the Track that Satan first made;
　　then preparing for Earth, they meet him proud of his success
　　returning to Hell; thir mutual gratulation. Satan arrives at
　　Pandemonium, in full assembly relates with boasting his success
　　against Man; instead of applause is entertained with a general hiss
　　by all his audience, transform'd with himself also suddenly into
　　Serpents, according to his doom giv'n in Paradise; then deluded
　　with a shew of the forbidden Tree springing up before them, they
　　greedily reaching to take of the Fruit, chew dust and bitter
　　ashes.The proceedings of Sin and Death; God foretels the final
　　Victory of his Son over them, and the renewing of all things; but
　　for the present commands his Angels to make several alterations
　　in the Heavens and Elements. Adam more and more perceiving
　　his fall'n condition heavily bewailes, rejects the condolement of
　　Eve; she persists and at length appeases him: then to evade the
　　Curse likely to fall on thir Ofspring, proposes to Adam violent
　　wayes, which he approves not, but conceiving better hope, puts
　　her in mind of the late Promise made them, that her Seed should
　　be reveng'd on the Serpent, and exhorts her with him to seek
　　Peace of the offended Deity, by repentance and supplication.
　　
　　Meanwhile the hainous and despightfull act
　　Of Satan done in Paradise, and how
　　Hee in the Serpent had perverted Eve,
　　Her Husband shee, to taste the fatall fruit,
　　Was known in Heav'n; for what can scape the Eye
　　Of God All-seeing, or deceave his Heart
　　Omniscient, who in all things wise and just,
　　Hinder'd not Satan to attempt the minde
　　Of Man, with strength entire, and free Will arm'd,
　　Complete to have discover'd and repulst 10
　　Whatever wiles of Foe or seeming Friend.
　　For still they knew, and ought to have still remember'd
　　The high Injunction not to taste that Fruit,
　　Whoever tempted; which they not obeying,
　　Incurr'd, what could they less, the penaltie,
　　And manifold in sin, deserv'd to fall.
　　Up into Heav'n from Paradise in hast
　　Th' Angelic Guards ascended, mute and sad
　　For Man, for of his state by this they knew,
　　Much wondring how the suttle Fiend had stoln 20
　　Entrance unseen. Soon as th' unwelcome news
　　>From Earth arriv'd at Heaven Gate, displeas'd
　　All were who heard, dim sadness did not spare
　　That time Celestial visages, yet mixt
　　With pitie, violated not thir bliss.
　　About the new-arriv'd, in multitudes
　　Th' ethereal People ran, to hear and know
　　How all befell: they towards the Throne Supream
　　Accountable made haste to make appear
　　With righteous plea, thir utmost vigilance, 30
　　And easily approv'd; when the most High
　　Eternal Father from his secret Cloud,
　　Amidst in Thunder utter'd thus his voice.
　　Assembl'd Angels, and ye Powers return'd
　　>From unsuccessful charge, be not dismaid,
　　Nor troubl'd at these tidings from the Earth,
　　Which your sincerest care could not prevent,
　　Foretold so lately what would come to pass,
　　When first this Tempter cross'd the Gulf from Hell.
　　I told ye then he should prevail and speed 40
　　On his bad Errand, Man should be seduc't
　　And flatter'd out of all, believing lies
　　Against his Maker; no Decree of mine
　　Concurring to necessitate his Fall,
　　Or touch with lightest moment of impulse
　　His free Will, to her own inclining left
　　In eevn scale. But fall'n he is, and now
　　What rests, but that the mortal Sentence pass
　　On his transgression, Death denounc't that day,
　　Which he presumes already vain and void, 50
　　Because not yet inflicted, as he fear'd,
　　By some immediate stroak; but soon shall find
　　Forbearance no acquittance ere day end.
　　Justice shall not return as bountie scorn'd.
　　But whom send I to judge them? whom but thee
　　Vicegerent Son, to thee I have transferr'd
　　All Judgement, whether in Heav'n, or Earth; or Hell.
　　Easie it may be seen that I intend
　　Mercie collegue with Justice, sending thee
　　Mans Friend, his Mediator, his design'd 60
　　Both Ransom and Redeemer voluntarie,
　　And destin'd Man himself to judge Man fall'n.
　　So spake the Father, and unfoulding bright
　　Toward the right hand his Glorie, on the Son
　　Blaz'd forth unclouded Deitie; he full
　　Resplendent all his Father manifest
　　Express'd, and thus divinely answer'd milde.
　　Father Eternal, thine is to decree,
　　Mine both in Heav'n and Earth to do thy will
　　Supream, that thou in mee thy Son belov'd 70
　　Mayst ever rest well pleas'd. I go to judge
　　On Earth these thy transgressors, but thou knowst,
　　Whoever judg'd, the worst on mee must light,
　　When time shall be, for so I undertook
　　Before thee; and not repenting, this obtaine
　　Of right, that I may mitigate thir doom
　　On me deriv'd, yet I shall temper so
　　Justice with Mercie, as may illustrate most
　　Them fully satisfied, and thee appease.
　　Attendance none shall need, nor Train, where none 80
　　Are to behold the Judgement, but the judg'd,
　　Those two; the third best absent is condemn'd,
　　Convict by flight, and Rebel to all Law
　　Conviction to the Serpent none belongs.
　　Thus saying, from his radiant Seat he rose
　　Of high collateral glorie: him Thrones and Powers,
　　Princedoms, and Dominations ministrant
　　Accompanied to Heaven Gate, from whence
　　Eden and all the Coast in prospect lay.
　　Down he descended strait; the speed of Gods 90
　　Time counts not, though with swiftest minutes wing'd.
　　Now was the Sun in Western cadence low
　　>From Noon, and gentle Aires due at thir hour
　　To fan the Earth now wak'd, and usher in
　　The Eevning coole when he from wrauth more coole
　　Came the mild Judge and Intercessor both
　　To sentence Man: the voice of God they heard
　　Now walking in the Garden, by soft windes
　　Brought to thir Ears, while day declin'd, they heard
　　And from his presence hid themselves among 100
　　The thickest Trees, both Man and Wife, till God
　　Approaching, thus to Adam call'd aloud.
　　Where art thou Adam, wont with joy to meet
　　My coming seen far off? I miss thee here,
　　Not pleas'd, thus entertaind with solitude,
　　Where obvious dutie erewhile appear'd unsaught:
　　Or come I less conspicuous, or what change
　　Absents thee, or what chance detains? Come forth.
　　He came, and with him Eve, more loth, though first
　　To offend, discount'nanc't both, and discompos'd; 110
　　Love was not in thir looks, either to God
　　Or to each other, but apparent guilt,
　　And shame, and perturbation, and despaire,
　　Anger, and obstinacie, and hate, and guile.
　　Whence Adam faultring long, thus answer'd brief.
　　I heard thee in the Garden, and of thy voice
　　Affraid, being naked, hid my self. To whom
　　The gracious Judge without revile repli'd.
　　My voice thou oft hast heard, and hast not fear'd,
　　But still rejoyc't, how is it now become 120
　　So dreadful to thee? that thou art naked, who
　　Hath told thee? hast thou eaten of the Tree
　　Whereof I gave thee charge thou shouldst not eat?
　　To whom thus Adam sore beset repli'd.
　　O Heav'n! in evil strait this day I stand
　　Before my Judge, either to undergoe
　　My self the total Crime, or to accuse
　　My other self, the partner of my life;
　　Whose failing, while her Faith to me remaines,
　　I should conceal, and not expose to blame 130
　　By my complaint; but strict necessitie
　　Subdues me, and calamitous constraint,
　　Least on my head both sin and punishment,
　　However insupportable, be all
　　Devolv'd; though should I hold my peace, yet thou
　　Wouldst easily detect what I conceale.
　　This Woman whom thou mad'st to be my help,
　　And gav'st me as thy perfet gift, so good,
　　So fit, so acceptable, so Divine,
　　That from her hand I could suspect no ill, 140
　　And what she did, whatever in it self,
　　Her doing seem'd to justifie the deed;
　　Shee gave me of the Tree, and I did eate.
　　To whom the sovran Presence thus repli'd.
　　Was shee thy God, that her thou didst obey
　　Before his voice, or was shee made thy guide,
　　Superior, or but equal, that to her
　　Thou did'st resigne thy Manhood, and the Place
　　Wherein God set thee above her made of thee,
　　And for thee, whose perfection farr excell'd 150
　　Hers in all real dignitie: Adornd
　　She was indeed, and lovely to attract
　　Thy Love, not thy Subjection, and her Gifts
　　Were such as under Government well seem'd,
　　Unseemly to beare rule, which was thy part
　　And person, had'st thou known thy self aright.
　　So having said, he thus to Eve in few:
　　Say Woman, what is this which thou hast done?
　　To whom sad Eve with shame nigh overwhelm'd,
　　Confessing soon, yet not before her Judge 160
　　Bold or loquacious, thus abasht repli'd.
　　The Serpent me beguil'd and I did eate.
　　Which when the Lord God heard, without delay
　　To Judgement he proceeded on th' accus'd
　　Serpent though brute, unable to transferre
　　The Guilt on him who made him instrument
　　Of mischief, and polluted from the end
　　Of his Creation; justly then accurst,
　　As vitiated in Nature: more to know
　　Concern'd not Man (since he no further knew) 170
　　Nor alter'd his offence; yet God at last
　　To Satan first in sin his doom apply'd,
　　Though in mysterious terms, judg'd as then best:
　　And on the Serpent thus his curse let fall.
　　Because thou hast done this, thou art accurst
　　Above all Cattel, each Beast of the Field;
　　Upon thy Belly groveling thou shalt goe,
　　And dust shalt eat all the days of thy Life.
　　Between Thee and the Woman I will put
　　Enmitie, and between thine and her Seed; 180
　　Her Seed shall bruise thy head, thou bruise his heel.
　　So spake this Oracle, then verifi'd
　　When Jesus son of Mary second Eve,
　　Saw Satan fall like Lightning down from Heav'n,
　　Prince of the Aire; then rising from his Grave
　　Spoild Principalities and Powers, triumpht
　　In open shew, and with ascention bright
　　Captivity led captive through the Aire,
　　The Realme it self of Satan long usurpt,
　　Whom he shall tread at last under our feet; 190
　　Eevn hee who now foretold his fatal bruise,
　　And to the Woman thus his Sentence turn'd.
　　Thy sorrow I will greatly multiplie
　　By thy Conception; Children thou shalt bring
　　In sorrow forth, and to thy Husbands will
　　Thine shall submit, hee over thee shall rule.
　　On Adam last thus judgement he pronounc'd.
　　Because thou hast heark'nd to the voice of thy Wife,
　　And eaten of the Tree concerning which
　　I charg'd thee, saying: Thou shalt not eate thereof, 200
　　Curs'd is the ground for thy sake, thou in sorrow
　　Shalt eate thereof all the days of thy Life;
　　Thornes also and Thistles it shall bring thee forth
　　Unbid, and thou shalt eate th' Herb of th' Field,
　　In the sweat of thy Face shalt thou eate Bread,
　　Till thou return unto the ground, for thou
　　Out of the ground wast taken, know thy Birth,
　　For dust thou art, and shalt to dust returne.
　　So judg'd he Man, both Judge and Saviour sent,
　　And th' instant stroke of Death denounc't that day 210
　　Remov'd farr off; then pittying how they stood
　　Before him naked to the aire, that now
　　Must suffer change, disdain'd not to begin
　　Thenceforth the forme of servant to assume,
　　As when he wash'd his servants feet, so now
　　As Father of his Familie he clad
　　Thir nakedness with Skins of Beasts, or slain,
　　Or as the Snake with youthful Coate repaid;
　　And thought not much to cloath his Enemies:
　　Nor hee thir outward onely with the Skins 220
　　Of Beasts, but inward nakedness, much more
　　Opprobrious, with his Robe of righteousness,
　　Araying cover'd from his Fathers sight.
　　To him with swift ascent he up returnd,
　　Into his blissful bosom reassum'd
　　In glory as of old, to him appeas'd
　　All, though all-knowing, what had past with Man
　　Recounted, mixing intercession sweet.
　　Meanwhile ere thus was sin'd and judg'd on Earth,
　　Within the Gates of Hell sate Sin and Death, 230
　　In counterview within the Gates, that now
　　Stood open wide, belching outrageous flame
　　Farr into Chaos, since the Fiend pass'd through,
　　Sin opening, who thus now to Death began.
　　O Son, why sit we here each other viewing
　　Idlely, while Satan our great Author thrives
　　In other Worlds, and happier Seat provides
　　For us his ofspring deare? It cannot be
　　But that success attends him; if mishap,
　　Ere this he had return'd, with fury driv'n 240
　　By his Avenger, since no place like this
　　Can fit his punishment, or their revenge.
　　Methinks I feel new strength within me rise,
　　Wings growing, and Dominion giv'n me large
　　Beyond this Deep; whatever drawes me on,
　　Or sympathie, or som connatural force
　　Powerful at greatest distance to unite
　　With secret amity things of like kinde
　　By secretest conveyance. Thou my Shade
　　Inseparable must with mee along: 250
　　For Death from Sin no power can separate.
　　But least the difficultie of passing back
　　Stay his returne perhaps over this Gulfe
　　Impassable, impervious, let us try
　　Adventrous work, yet to thy power and mine
　　Not unagreeable, to found a path
　　Over this Maine from Hell to that new World
　　Where Satan now prevailes, a Monument
　　Of merit high to all th' infernal Host,
　　Easing thir passage hence, for intercourse, 260
　　Or transmigration, as thir lot shall lead.
　　Nor can I miss the way, so strongly drawn
　　By this new felt attraction and instinct.
　　Whom thus the meager Shadow answerd soon.
　　Goe whither Fate and inclination strong
　　Leads thee, I shall not lag behinde, nor erre
　　The way, thou leading, such a sent I draw
　　Of carnage, prey innumerable, and taste
　　The savour of Death from all things there that live:
　　Nor shall I to the work thou enterprisest 270
　　Be wanting, but afford thee equal aid.
　　So saying, with delight he snuff'd the smell
　　Of mortal change on Earth. As when a flock
　　Of ravenous Fowl, though many a League remote,
　　Against the day of Battel, to a Field,
　　Where Armies lie encampt, come flying, lur'd
　　With sent of living Carcasses design'd
　　For death, the following day, in bloodie fight.
　　So sented the grim Feature, and upturn'd
　　His Nostril wide into the murkie Air, 280
　　Sagacious of his Quarrey from so farr.
　　Then Both from out Hell Gates into the waste
　　Wide Anarchie of Chaos damp and dark
　　Flew divers, & with Power (thir Power was great)
　　Hovering upon the Waters; what they met
　　Solid or slimie, as in raging Sea
　　Tost up and down, together crowded drove
　　>From each side shoaling towards the mouth of Hell.
　　As when two Polar Winds blowing adverse
　　Upon the Cronian Sea, together drive 290
　　Mountains of Ice, that stop th' imagin'd way
　　Beyond Petsora Eastward, to the rich
　　Cathaian Coast. The aggregated Soyle
　　Death with his Mace petrific, cold and dry,
　　As with a Trident smote, and fix't as firm
　　As Delos floating once; the rest his look
　　Bound with Gorgonian rigor not to move,
　　And with Asphaltic slime; broad as the Gate,
　　Deep to the Roots of Hell the gather'd beach
　　They fasten'd, and the Mole immense wraught on 300
　　Over the foaming deep high Archt, a Bridge
　　Of length prodigious joyning to the Wall
　　Immoveable of this now fenceless world
　　Forfeit to Death; from hence a passage broad,
　　Smooth, easie, inoffensive down to Hell.
　　So, if great things to small may be compar'd,
　　Xerxes, the Libertie of Greece to yoke,
　　>From Susa his Memnonian Palace high
　　Came to the Sea, and over Hellespont
　　Bridging his way, Europe with Asia joyn'd, 310
　　And scourg'd with many a stroak th' indignant waves.
　　Now had they brought the work by wondrous Art
　　Pontifical, a ridge of pendent Rock
　　Over the vext Abyss, following the track
　　Of Satan, to the selfsame place where hee
　　First lighted from his Wing, and landed safe
　　>From out of Chaos to the outside bare
　　Of this round World: with Pinns of Adamant
　　And Chains they made all fast, too fast they made
　　And durable; and now in little space 320
　　The Confines met of Empyrean Heav'n
　　And of this World, and on the left hand Hell
　　With long reach interpos'd; three sev'ral wayes
　　In sight, to each of these three places led.
　　And now thir way to Earth they had descri'd,
　　To Paradise first tending, when behold
　　Satan in likeness of an Angel bright
　　Betwixt the Centaure and the Scorpion stearing
　　His Zenith, while the Sun in Aries rose:
　　Disguis'd he came, but those his Children dear 330
　　Thir Parent soon discern'd, though in disguise.
　　Hee, after Eve seduc't, unminded slunk
　　Into the Wood fast by, and changing shape
　　To observe the sequel, saw his guileful act
　　By Eve, though all unweeting, seconded
　　Upon her Husband, saw thir shame that sought
　　Vain covertures; but when he saw descend
　　The Son of God to judge them, terrifi'd
　　Hee fled, not hoping to escape, but shun
　　The present, fearing guiltie what his wrauth 340
　　Might suddenly inflict; that past, return'd
　　By Night, and listning where the hapless Paire
　　Sate in thir sad discourse, and various plaint,
　　Thence gatherd his own doom, which understood
　　Not instant, but of future time. With joy
　　And tidings fraught, to Hell he now return'd,
　　And at the brink of Chaos, neer the foot
　　Of this new wondrous Pontifice, unhop't
　　Met who to meet him came, his Ofspring dear.
　　Great joy was at thir meeting, and at sight 350
　　Of that stupendious Bridge his joy encreas'd.
　　Long hee admiring stood, till Sin, his faire
　　Inchanting Daughter, thus the silence broke.
　　O Parent, these are thy magnific deeds,
　　Thy Trophies, which thou view'st as not thine own,
　　Thou art thir Author and prime Architect:
　　For I no sooner in my Heart divin'd,
　　My Heart, which by a secret harmonie
　　Still moves with thine, joyn'd in connexion sweet,
　　That thou on Earth hadst prosper'd, which thy looks 360
　　Now also evidence, but straight I felt
　　Though distant from thee Worlds between, yet felt
　　That I must after thee with this thy Son;
　　Such fatal consequence unites us three:
　　Hell could no longer hold us in her bounds,
　　Nor this unvoyageable Gulf obscure
　　Detain from following thy illustrious track.
　　Thou hast atchiev'd our libertie, confin'd
　　Within Hell Gates till now, thou us impow'rd
　　To fortifie thus farr, and overlay 370
　　With this portentous Bridge the dark Abyss.
　　Thine now is all this World, thy vertue hath won
　　What thy hands builded not, thy Wisdom gain'd
　　With odds what Warr hath lost, and fully aveng'd
　　Our foile in Heav'n; here thou shalt Monarch reign,
　　There didst not; there let him still Victor sway,
　　As Battel hath adjudg'd, from this new World
　　Retiring, by his own doom alienated,
　　And henceforth Monarchie with thee divide
　　Of all things, parted by th' Empyreal bounds, 380
　　His Quadrature, from thy Orbicular World,
　　Or trie thee now more dang'rous to his Throne.
　　Whom thus the Prince of Darkness answerd glad.
　　Fair Daughter, and thou Son and Grandchild both,
　　High proof ye now have giv'n to be the Race
　　Of Satan (for I glorie in the name,
　　Antagonist of Heav'ns Almightie King)
　　Amply have merited of me, of all
　　Th' Infernal Empire, that so neer Heav'ns dore
　　Triumphal with triumphal act have met, 390
　　Mine with this glorious Work, & made one Realm
　　Hell and this World, one Realm, one Continent
　　Of easie thorough-fare. Therefore while I
　　Descend through Darkness, on your Rode with ease
　　To my associate Powers, them to acquaint
　　With these successes, and with them rejoyce,
　　You two this way, among those numerous Orbs
　　All yours, right down to Paradise descend;
　　There dwell & Reign in bliss, thence on the Earth
　　Dominion exercise and in the Aire, 400
　　Chiefly on Man, sole Lord of all declar'd,
　　Him first make sure your thrall, and lastly kill.
　　My Substitutes I send ye, and Create
　　Plenipotent on Earth, of matchless might
　　Issuing from mee: on your joynt vigor now
　　My hold of this new Kingdom all depends,
　　Through Sin to Death expos'd by my exploit.
　　If your joynt power prevaile, th' affaires of Hell
　　No detriment need feare, goe and be strong.
　　So saying he dismiss'd them, they with speed 410
　　Thir course through thickest Constellations held
　　Spreading thir bane; the blasted Starrs lookt wan,
　　And Planets, Planet-strook, real Eclips
　　Then sufferd. Th' other way Satan went down
　　The Causey to Hell Gate; on either side
　　Disparted Chaos over built exclaimd,
　　And with rebounding surge the barrs assaild,
　　That scorn'd his indignation: through the Gate,
　　Wide open and unguarded, Satan pass'd,
　　And all about found desolate; for those 420
　　Appointed to sit there, had left thir charge,
　　Flown to the upper World; the rest were all
　　Farr to the inland retir'd, about the walls
　　Of Pandemonium, Citie and proud seate
　　Of Lucifer, so by allusion calld,
　　Of that bright Starr to Satan paragond.
　　There kept thir Watch the Legions, while the Grand
　　In Council sate, sollicitous what chance
　　Might intercept thir Emperour sent, so hee
　　Departing gave command, and they observ'd. 430
　　As when the Tartar from his Russian Foe
　　By Astracan over the Snowie Plaines
　　Retires, or Bactrian Sophi from the hornes
　　Of Turkish Crescent, leaves all waste beyond
　　The Realme of Aladule, in his retreate
　　To Tauris or Casbeen. So these the late
　　Heav'n-banisht Host, left desert utmost Hell
　　Many a dark League, reduc't in careful Watch
　　Round thir Metropolis, and now expecting
　　Each hour their great adventurer from the search 440
　　Of Forrein Worlds: he through the midst unmarkt,
　　In shew plebeian Angel militant
　　Of lowest order, past; and from the dore
　　Of that Plutonian Hall, invisible
　　Ascended his high Throne, which under state
　　Of richest texture spred, at th' upper end
　　Was plac't in regal lustre. Down a while
　　He sate, and round about him saw unseen:
　　At last as from a Cloud his fulgent head
　　And shape Starr bright appeer'd, or brighter, clad 450
　　With what permissive glory since his fall
　　Was left him, or false glitter: All amaz'd
　　At that so sudden blaze the Stygian throng
　　Bent thir aspect, and whom they wish'd beheld,
　　Thir mighty Chief returnd: loud was th' acclaime:
　　Forth rush'd in haste the great consulting Peers,
　　Rais'd from thir dark Divan, and with like joy
　　Congratulant approach'd him, who with hand
　　Silence, and with these words attention won.
　　Thrones, Dominations, Princedoms, Vertues, Powers, 460
　　For in possession such, not onely of right,
　　I call ye and declare ye now, returnd
　　Successful beyond hope, to lead ye forth
　　Triumphant out of this infernal Pit
　　Abominable, accurst, the house of woe,
　　And Dungeon of our Tyrant: Now possess,
　　As Lords, a spacious World, to our native Heaven
　　Little inferiour, by my adventure hard
　　With peril great atchiev'd. Long were to tell
　　What I have don, what sufferd, with what paine 470
　　Voyag'd the unreal, vast, unbounded deep
　　Of horrible confusion, over which
　　By Sin and Death a broad way now is pav'd
　　To expedite your glorious march; but I
　　Toild out my uncouth passage, forc't to ride
　　Th' untractable Abysse, plung'd in the womb
　　Of unoriginal Night and Chaos wilde,
　　That jealous of thir secrets fiercely oppos'd
　　My journey strange, with clamorous uproare
　　Protesting Fate supreame; thence how I found 480
　　The new created World, which fame in Heav'n
　　Long had foretold, a Fabrick wonderful
　　Of absolute perfection, therein Man
　　Plac't in a Paradise, by our exile
　　Made happie: Him by fraud I have seduc'd
　　>From his Creator, and the more to increase
　　Your wonder, with an Apple; he thereat
　　Offended, worth your laughter, hath giv'n up
　　Both his beloved Man and all his World,
　　To Sin and Death a prey, and so to us, 490
　　Without our hazard, labour or allarme,
　　To range in, and to dwell, and over Man
　　To rule, as over all he should have rul'd.
　　True is, mee also he hath judg'd, or rather
　　Mee not, but the brute Serpent in whose shape
　　Man I deceav'd: that which to mee belongs,
　　Is enmity, which he will put between
　　Mee and Mankinde; I am to bruise his heel;
　　His Seed, when is not set, shall bruise my head:
　　A World who would not purchase with a bruise, 500
　　Or much more grievous pain? Ye have th' account
　　Of my performance: What remaines, ye Gods,
　　But up and enter now into full bliss.
　　So having said, a while he stood, expecting
　　Thir universal shout and high applause
　　To fill his eare, when contrary he hears
　　On all sides, from innumerable tongues
　　A dismal universal hiss, the sound
　　Of public scorn; he wonderd, but not long
　　Had leasure, wondring at himself now more; 510
　　His Visage drawn he felt to sharp and spare,
　　His Armes clung to his Ribs, his Leggs entwining
　　Each other, till supplanted down he fell
　　A monstrous Serpent on his Belly prone,
　　Reluctant, but in vaine, a greater power
　　Now rul'd him, punisht in the shape he sin'd,
　　According to his doom: he would have spoke,
　　But hiss for hiss returnd with forked tongue
　　To forked tongue, for now were all transform'd
　　Alike, to Serpents all as accessories 520
　　To his bold Riot: dreadful was the din
　　Of hissing through the Hall, thick swarming now
　　With complicated monsters, head and taile,
　　Scorpion and Asp, and Amphisbaena dire,
　　Cerastes hornd, Hydrus, and Ellops drear,
　　And Dipsas (Not so thick swarm'd once the Soil
　　Bedropt with blood of Gorgon, or the Isle
　　Ophiusa) but still greatest hee the midst,
　　Now Dragon grown, larger then whom the Sun
　　Ingenderd in the Pythian Vale on slime, 530
　　Huge Python, and his Power no less he seem'd
　　Above the rest still to retain; they all
　　Him follow'd issuing forth to th' open Field,
　　Where all yet left of that revolted Rout
　　Heav'n-fall'n, in station stood or just array,
　　Sublime with expectation when to see
　　In Triumph issuing forth thir glorious Chief;
　　They saw, but other sight instead, a crowd
　　Of ugly Serpents; horror on them fell,
　　And horrid sympathie; for what they saw, 540
　　They felt themselvs now changing; down thir arms,
　　Down fell both Spear and Shield, down they as fast,
　　And the dire hiss renew'd, and the dire form
　　Catcht by Contagion, like in punishment,
　　As in thir crime. Thus was th' applause they meant,
　　Turnd to exploding hiss, triumph to shame
　　Cast on themselves from thir own mouths. There stood
　　A Grove hard by, sprung up with this thir change,
　　His will who reigns above, to aggravate
　　Thir penance, laden with fair Fruit, like that 550
　　Which grew in Paradise, the bait of Eve
　　Us'd by the Tempter: on that prospect strange
　　Thir earnest eyes they fix'd, imagining
　　For one forbidden Tree a multitude
　　Now ris'n, to work them furder woe or shame;
　　Yet parcht with scalding thurst and hunger fierce,
　　Though to delude them sent, could not abstain,
　　But on they rould in heaps, and up the Trees
　　Climbing, sat thicker then the snakie locks
　　That curld Megaera: greedily they pluck'd 560
　　The Frutage fair to sight, like that which grew
　　Neer that bituminous Lake where Sodom flam'd;
　　This more delusive, not the touch, but taste
　　Deceav'd; they fondly thinking to allay
　　Thir appetite with gust, instead of Fruit
　　Chewd bitter Ashes, which th' offended taste
　　With spattering noise rejected: oft they assayd,
　　Hunger and thirst constraining, drugd as oft,
　　With hatefullest disrelish writh'd thir jaws
　　With foot and cinders fill'd; so oft they fell 570
　　Into the same illusion, not as Man
　　Whom they triumph'd once lapst. Thus were they plagu'd
　　And worn with Famin, long and ceasless hiss,
　　Till thir lost shape, permitted, they resum'd,
　　Yearly enjoynd, some say, to undergo
　　This annual humbling certain number'd days,
　　To dash thir pride, and joy for Man seduc't.
　　However some tradition they dispers'd
　　Among the Heathen of thir purchase got,
　　And Fabl'd how the Serpent, whom they calld 580
　　Ophion with Eurynome, the wide-
　　Encroaching Eve perhaps, had first the rule
　　Of high Olympus, thence by Saturn driv'n
　　And Ops, ere yet Dictaean Jove was born.
　　Mean while in Paradise the hellish pair
　　Too soon arriv'd, Sin there in power before,
　　Once actual, now in body, and to dwell
　　Habitual habitant; behind her Death
　　Close following pace for pace, not mounted yet
　　On his pale Horse: to whom Sin thus began. 590
　　Second of Satan sprung, all conquering Death,
　　What thinkst thou of our Empire now, though earnd
　　With travail difficult, not better farr
　　Then stil at Hels dark threshold to have sate watch,
　　Unnam'd, undreaded, and thy self half starv'd?
　　Whom thus the Sin-born Monster answerd soon.
　　To mee, who with eternal Famin pine,
　　Alike is Hell, or Paradise, or Heaven,
　　There best, where most with ravin I may meet;
　　Which here, though plenteous, all too little seems 600
　　To stuff this Maw, this vast unhide-bound Corps.
　　To whom th' incestuous Mother thus repli'd.
　　Thou therefore on these Herbs, and Fruits, & Flours
　　Feed first, on each Beast next, and Fish, and Fowle,
　　No homely morsels, and whatever thing
　　The Sithe of Time mowes down, devour unspar'd,
　　Till I in Man residing through the Race,
　　His thoughts, his looks, words, actions all infect,
　　And season him thy last and sweetest prey.
　　This said, they both betook them several wayes, 610
　　Both to destroy, or unimmortal make
　　All kinds, and for destruction to mature
　　Sooner or later; which th' Almightie seeing,
　　>From his transcendent Seat the Saints among,
　　To those bright Orders utterd thus his voice.
　　See with what heat these Dogs of Hell advance
　　To waste and havoc yonder World, which I
　　So fair and good created, and had still
　　Kept in that state, had not the folly of Man
　　Let in these wastful Furies, who impute 620
　　Folly to mee, so doth the Prince of Hell
　　And his Adherents, that with so much ease
　　I suffer them to enter and possess
　　A place so heav'nly, and conniving seem
　　To gratifie my scornful Enemies,
　　That laugh, as if transported with some fit
　　Of Passion, I to them had quitted all,
　　At random yeilded up to their misrule;
　　And know not that I call'd and drew them thither
　　My Hell-hounds, to lick up the draff and filth 630
　　Which mans polluting Sin with taint hath shed
　　On what was pure, till cramm'd and gorg'd, nigh burst
　　With suckt and glutted offal, at one fling
　　Of thy victorious Arm, well-pleasing Son,
　　Both Sin, and Death, and yawning Grave at last
　　Through Chaos hurld, obstruct the mouth of Hell
　　For ever, and seal up his ravenous Jawes.
　　Then Heav'n and Earth renewd shall be made pure
　　To sanctitie that shall receive no staine:
　　Till then the Curse pronounc't on both precedes. 640
　　Hee ended, and the heav'nly Audience loud
　　Sung Halleluia, as the sound of Seas,
　　Through multitude that sung: Just are thy ways,
　　Righteous are thy Decrees on all thy Works;
　　Who can extenuate thee? Next, to the Son,
　　Destin'd restorer of Mankind, by whom
　　New Heav'n and Earth shall to the Ages rise,
　　Or down from Heav'n descend. Such was thir song,
　　While the Creator calling forth by name
　　His mightie Angels gave them several charge, 650
　　As sorted best with present things. The Sun
　　Had first his precept so to move, so shine,
　　As might affect the Earth with cold and heat
　　Scarce tollerable, and from the North to call
　　Decrepit Winter, from the South to bring
　　Solstitial summers heat. To the blanc Moone
　　Her office they prescrib'd, to th' other five
　　Thir planetarie motions and aspects
　　In Sextile, Square, and Trine, and Opposite,
　　Of noxious efficacie, and when to joyne 660
　　In Synod unbenigne, and taught the fixt
　　Thir influence malignant when to showre,
　　Which of them rising with the Sun, or falling,
　　Should prove tempestuous: To the Winds they set
　　Thir corners, when with bluster to confound
　　Sea, Aire, and Shoar, the Thunder when to rowle
　　With terror through the dark Aereal Hall.
　　Some say he bid his Angels turne ascanse
　　The Poles of Earth twice ten degrees and more
　　>From the Suns Axle; they with labour push'd 670
　　Oblique the Centric Globe: Som say the Sun
　　Was bid turn Reines from th' Equinoctial Rode
　　Like distant breadth to Taurus with the Seav'n
　　Atlantick Sisters, and the Spartan Twins
　　Up to the Tropic Crab; thence down amaine
　　By Leo and the Virgin and the Scales,
　　As deep as Capricorne, to bring in change
　　Of Seasons to each Clime; else had the Spring
　　Perpetual smil'd on Earth with vernant Flours,
　　Equal in Days and Nights, except to those 680
　　Beyond the Polar Circles; to them Day
　　Had unbenighted shon, while the low Sun
　　To recompence his distance, in thir sight
　　Had rounded still th' Horizon, and not known
　　Or East or West, which had forbid the Snow
　　>From cold Estotiland, and South as farr
　　Beneath Magellan. At that tasted Fruit
　　The Sun, as from Thyestean Banquet, turn'd
　　His course intended; else how had the World
　　Inhabited, though sinless, more then now, 690
　　Avoided pinching cold and scorching heate?
　　These changes in the Heav'ns, though slow, produc'd
　　Like change on Sea and Land, sideral blast,
　　Vapour, and Mist, and Exhalation hot,
　　Corrupt and Pestilent: Now from the North
　　Of Norumbega, and the Samoed shoar
　　Bursting thir brazen Dungeon, armd with ice
　　And snow and haile and stormie gust and flaw,
　　Boreas and Caecias and Argestes loud
　　And Thrascias rend the Woods and Seas upturn; 700
　　With adverse blast up-turns them from the South
　　Notus and Afer black with thundrous Clouds
　　>From Serraliona; thwart of these as fierce
　　Forth rush the Levant and the Ponent Windes
　　Eurus and Zephir with thir lateral noise,
　　Sirocco, and Libecchio. Thus began
　　Outrage from liveless things; but Discord first
　　Daughter of Sin, among th' irrational,
　　Death introduc'd through fierce antipathie:
　　Beast now with Beast gan war, & Fowle with Fowle, 710
　　And Fish with Fish; to graze the Herb all leaving,
　　Devourd each other; nor stood much in awe
　　Of Man, but fled him, or with count'nance grim
　　Glar'd on him passing: these were from without
　　The growing miseries, which Adam saw
　　Alreadie in part, though hid in gloomiest shade,
　　To sorrow abandond, but worse felt within,
　　And in a troubl'd Sea of passion tost,
　　Thus to disburd'n sought with sad complaint.
　　O miserable of happie! is this the end 720
　　Of this new glorious World, and mee so late
　　The Glory of that Glory, who now becom
　　Accurst of blessed, hide me from the face
　　Of God, whom to behold was then my highth
　　Of happiness: yet well, if here would end
　　The miserie, I deserv'd it, and would beare
　　My own deservings; but this will not serve;
　　All that I eate or drink, or shall beget,
　　Is propagated curse. O voice once heard
　　Delightfully, Encrease And Multiply, 730
　　Now death to heare! for what can I encrease
　　Or multiplie, but curses on my head?
　　Who of all Ages to succeed, but feeling
　　The evil on him brought by me, will curse
　　My Head, Ill fare our Ancestor impure,
　　For this we may thank Adam; but his thanks
　　Shall be the execration; so besides
　　Mine own that bide upon me, all from mee
　　Shall with a fierce reflux on mee redound,
　　On mee as on thir natural center light 740
　　Heavie, though in thir place. O fleeting joyes
　　Of Paradise, deare bought with lasting woes!
　　Did I request thee, Maker, from my Clay
　　To mould me Man, did I sollicite thee
　　>From darkness to promote me, or here place
　　In this delicious Garden? as my Will
　　Concurd not to my being, it were but right
　　And equal to reduce me to my dust,
　　Desirous to resigne, and render back
　　All I receav'd, unable to performe 750
　　Thy terms too hard, by which I was to hold
　　The good I sought not. To the loss of that,
　　Sufficient penaltie, why hast thou added
　　The sense of endless woes? inexplicable
　　Thy Justice seems; yet to say truth, too late,
　　I thus contest; then should have been refusd
　　Those terms whatever, when they were propos'd:
　　Thou didst accept them; wilt thou enjoy the good,
　　Then cavil the conditions? and though God
　　Made thee without thy leave, what if thy Son 760
　　Prove disobedient, and reprov'd, retort,
　　Wherefore didst thou beget me? I sought it not:
　　Wouldst thou admit for his contempt of thee
　　That proud excuse? yet him not thy election,
　　But Natural necessity begot.
　　God made thee of choice his own, and of his own
　　To serve him, thy reward was of his grace,
　　Thy punishment then justly is at his Will.
　　Be it so, for I submit, his doom is fair,
　　That dust I am, and shall to dust returne: 770
　　O welcom hour whenever! why delayes
　　His hand to execute what his Decree
　　Fixd on this day? why do I overlive,
　　Why am I mockt with death, and length'nd out
　　To deathless pain? how gladly would I meet
　　Mortalitie my sentence, and be Earth
　　Insensible, how glad would lay me down
　　As in my Mothers lap? there I should rest
　　And sleep secure; his dreadful voice no more
　　Would Thunder in my ears, no fear of worse 780
　　To mee and to my ofspring would torment me
　　With cruel expectation. Yet one doubt
　　Pursues me still, least all I cannot die,
　　Least that pure breath of Life, the Spirit of Man
　　Which God inspir'd, cannot together perish
　　With this corporeal Clod; then in the Grave,
　　Or in some other dismal place, who knows
　　But I shall die a living Death? O thought
　　Horrid, if true! yet why? it was but breath
　　Of Life that sinn'd; what dies but what had life 790
　　And sin? the Bodie properly hath neither.
　　All of me then shall die: let this appease
　　The doubt, since humane reach no further knows.
　　For though the Lord of all be infinite,
　　Is his wrauth also? be it, man is not so,
　　But mortal doom'd. How can he exercise
　　Wrath without end on Man whom Death must end?
　　Can he make deathless Death? that were to make
　　Strange contradiction, which to God himself
　　Impossible is held, as Argument 800
　　Of weakness, not of Power. Will he, draw out,
　　For angers sake, finite to infinite
　　In punisht man, to satisfie his rigour
　　Satisfi'd never; that were to extend
　　His Sentence beyond dust and Natures Law,
　　By which all Causes else according still
　　To the reception of thir matter act,
　　Not to th' extent of thir own Spheare. But say
　　That Death be not one stroak, as I suppos'd,
　　Bereaving sense, but endless miserie 810
　　>From this day onward, which I feel begun
　　Both in me, and without me, and so last
　　To perpetuitie; Ay me, that fear
　　Comes thundring back with dreadful revolution
　　On my defensless head; both Death and I
　　Am found Eternal, and incorporate both,
　　Nor I on my part single, in mee all
　　Posteritie stands curst: Fair Patrimonie
　　That I must leave ye, Sons; O were I able
　　To waste it all my self, and leave ye none! 820
　　So disinherited how would ye bless
　　Me now your Curse! Ah, why should all mankind
　　For one mans fault thus guiltless be condemn'd,
　　If guiltless? But from mee what can proceed,
　　But all corrupt, both Mind and Will deprav'd,
　　Not to do onely, but to will the same
　　With me? how can they acquitted stand
　　In sight of God? Him after all Disputes
　　Forc't I absolve: all my evasions vain
　　And reasonings, though through Mazes, lead me still 830
　　But to my own conviction: first and last
　　On mee, mee onely, as the sourse and spring
　　Of all corruption, all the blame lights due;
　　So might the wrauth, Fond wish! couldst thou support
　　That burden heavier then the Earth to bear,
　　Then all the world much heavier, though divided
　　With that bad Woman? Thus what thou desir'st,
　　And what thou fearst, alike destroyes all hope
　　Of refuge, and concludes thee miserable
　　Beyond all past example and future, 840
　　To Satan onely like both crime and doom.
　　O Conscience, into what Abyss of fears
　　And horrors hast thou driv'n me; out of which
　　I find no way, from deep to deeper plung'd!
　　Thus Adam to himself lamented loud
　　Through the still Night, now now, as ere man fell,
　　Wholsom and cool, and mild, but with black Air
　　Accompanied, with damps and dreadful gloom,
　　Which to his evil Conscience represented
　　All things with double terror: On the ground 850
　　Outstretcht he lay, on the cold ground, and oft
　　Curs'd his Creation, Death as oft accus'd
　　Of tardie execution, since denounc't
　　The day of his offence. Why comes not Death,
　　Said hee, with one thrice acceptable stroke
　　To end me? Shall Truth fail to keep her word,
　　Justice Divine not hast'n to be just?
　　But Death comes not at call, Justice Divine
　　Mends not her slowest pace for prayers or cries.
　　O Woods, O Fountains, Hillocks, Dales and Bowrs, 860
　　With other echo farr I taught your Shades
　　To answer, and resound farr other Song.
　　Whom thus afflicted when sad Eve beheld,
　　Desolate where she sate, approaching nigh,
　　Soft words to his fierce passion she assay'd:
　　But her with stern regard he thus repell'd.
　　Out of my sight, thou Serpent, that name best
　　Befits thee with him leagu'd, thy self as false
　　And hateful; nothing wants, but that thy shape,
　　Like his, and colour Serpentine may shew 870
　　Thy inward fraud, to warn all Creatures from thee
　　Henceforth; least that too heav'nly form, pretended
　　To hellish falshood, snare them. But for thee
　　I had persisted happie, had not thy pride
　　And wandring vanitie, when lest was safe,
　　Rejected my forewarning, and disdain'd
　　Not to be trusted, longing to be seen
　　Though by the Devil himself, him overweening
　　To over-reach, but with the Serpent meeting
　　Fool'd and beguil'd, by him thou, I by thee, 880
　　To trust thee from my side, imagin'd wise,
　　Constant, mature, proof against all assaults,
　　And understood not all was but a shew
　　Rather then solid vertu, all but a Rib
　　Crooked by nature, bent, as now appears,
　　More to the part sinister from me drawn,
　　Well if thrown out, as supernumerarie
　　To my just number found. O why did God,
　　Creator wise, that peopl'd highest Heav'n
　　With Spirits Masculine, create at last 890
　　This noveltie on Earth, this fair defect
　　Of Nature, and not fill the World at once
　　With Men as Angels without Feminine,
　　Or find some other way to generate
　　Mankind? this mischief had not then befall'n,
　　And more that shall befall, innumerable
　　Disturbances on Earth through Femal snares,
　　And straight conjunction with this Sex: for either
　　He never shall find out fit Mate, but such
　　As some misfortune brings him, or mistake, 900
　　Or whom he wishes most shall seldom gain
　　Through her perverseness, but shall see her gaind
　　By a farr worse, or if she love, withheld
　　By Parents, or his happiest choice too late
　　Shall meet, alreadie linkt and Wedlock-bound
　　To a fell Adversarie, his hate or shame:
　　Which infinite calamitie shall cause
　　To humane life, and houshold peace confound.
　　He added not, and from her turn'd, but Eve
　　Not so repulst, with Tears that ceas'd not flowing, 910
　　And tresses all disorderd, at his feet
　　Fell humble, and imbracing them, besaught
　　His peace, and thus proceeded in her plaint.
　　Forsake me not thus, Adam, witness Heav'n
　　What love sincere, and reverence in my heart
　　I beare thee, and unweeting have offended,
　　Unhappilie deceav'd; thy suppliant
　　I beg, and clasp thy knees; bereave me not,
　　Whereon I live, thy gentle looks, thy aid,
　　Thy counsel in this uttermost distress, 920
　　My onely strength and stay: forlorn of thee,
　　Whither shall I betake me, where subsist?
　　While yet we live, scarse one short hour perhaps,
　　Between us two let there be peace, both joyning,
　　As joyn'd in injuries, one enmitie
　　Against a Foe by doom express assign'd us,
　　That cruel Serpent: On me exercise not
　　Thy hatred for this miserie befall'n,
　　On me already lost, mee then thy self
　　More miserable; both have sin'd, but thou 930
　　Against God onely, I against God and thee,
　　And to the place of judgement will return,
　　There with my cries importune Heaven, that all
　　The sentence from thy head remov'd may light
　　On me, sole cause to thee of all this woe,
　　Mee mee onely just object of his ire.
　　She ended weeping, and her lowlie plight,
　　Immoveable till peace obtain'd from fault
　　Acknowledg'd and deplor'd, in Adam wraught
　　Commiseration; soon his heart relented 940
　　Towards her, his life so late and sole delight,
　　Now at his feet submissive in distress,
　　Creature so faire his reconcilement seeking,
　　His counsel whom she had displeas'd, his aide;
　　As one disarm'd, his anger all he lost,
　　And thus with peaceful words uprais'd her soon.
　　Unwarie, and too desirous, as before,
　　So now of what thou knowst not, who desir'st
　　The punishment all on thy self; alas,
　　Beare thine own first, ill able to sustaine 950
　　His full wrauth whose thou feelst as yet lest part,
　　And my displeasure bearst so ill. If Prayers
　　Could alter high Decrees, I to that place
　　Would speed before thee, and be louder heard,
　　That on my head all might be visited,
　　Thy frailtie and infirmer Sex forgiv'n,
　　To me committed and by me expos'd.
　　But rise, let us no more contend, nor blame
　　Each other, blam'd enough elsewhere, but strive
　　In offices of Love, how we may light'n 960
　　Each others burden in our share of woe;
　　Since this days Death denounc't, if ought I see,
　　Will prove no sudden, but a slow-pac't evill,
　　A long days dying to augment our paine,
　　And to our Seed (O hapless Seed!) deriv'd.
　　To whom thus Eve, recovering heart, repli'd.
　　Adam, by sad experiment I know
　　How little weight my words with thee can finde,
　　Found so erroneous, thence by just event
　　Found so unfortunate; nevertheless, 970
　　Restor'd by thee, vile as I am, to place
　　Of new acceptance, hopeful to regaine
　　Thy Love, the sole contentment of my heart,
　　Living or dying from thee I will not hide
　　What thoughts in my unquiet brest are ris'n,
　　Tending to som relief of our extremes,
　　Or end, though sharp and sad, yet tolerable,
　　As in our evils, and of easier choice.
　　If care of our descent perplex us most,
　　Which must be born to certain woe, devourd 980
　　By Death at last, and miserable it is
　　To be to others cause of misery,
　　Our own begotten, and of our Loines to bring
　　Into this cursed World a woful Race,
　　That after wretched Life must be at last
　　Food for so foule a Monster, in thy power
　　It lies, yet ere Conception to prevent
　　The Race unblest, to being yet unbegot.
　　Childless thou art, Childless remaine:
　　So Death shall be deceav'd his glut, and with us two 990
　　Be forc'd to satisfie his Rav'nous Maw.
　　But if thou judge it hard and difficult,
　　Conversing, looking, loving, to abstain
　　>From Loves due Rites, Nuptial embraces sweet,
　　And with desire to languish without hope,
　　Before the present object languishing
　　With like desire, which would be miserie
　　And torment less then none of what we dread,
　　Then both our selves and Seed at once to free
　　>From what we fear for both, let us make short, 1000
　　Let us seek Death, or hee not found, supply
　　With our own hands his Office on our selves;
　　Why stand we longer shivering under feares,
　　That shew no end but Death, and have the power,
　　Of many wayes to die the shortest choosing,
　　Destruction with destruction to destroy.
　　She ended heer, or vehement despaire
　　Broke off the rest; so much of Death her thoughts
　　Had entertaind, as di'd her Cheeks with pale.
　　But Adam with such counsel nothing sway'd, 1010
　　To better hopes his more attentive minde
　　Labouring had rais'd, and thus to Eve repli'd.
　　Eve, thy contempt of life and pleasure seems
　　To argue in thee somthing more sublime
　　And excellent then what thy minde contemnes;
　　But self-destruction therefore saught, refutes
　　That excellence thought in thee, and implies,
　　Not thy contempt, but anguish and regret
　　For loss of life and pleasure overlov'd.
　　Or if thou covet death, as utmost end 1020
　　Of miserie, so thinking to evade
　　The penaltie pronounc't, doubt not but God
　　Hath wiselier arm'd his vengeful ire then so
　　To be forestall'd; much more I fear least Death
　　So snatcht will not exempt us from the paine
　　We are by doom to pay; rather such acts
　　Of contumacie will provoke the highest
　　To make death in us live: Then let us seek
　　Som safer resolution, which methinks
　　I have in view, calling to minde with heed 1030
　　Part of our Sentence, that thy Seed shall bruise
　　The Serpents head; piteous amends, unless
　　Be meant, whom I conjecture, our grand Foe
　　Satan, who in the Serpent hath contriv'd
　　Against us this deceit: to crush his head
　　Would be revenge indeed; which will be lost
　　By death brought on our selves, or childless days
　　Resolv'd, as thou proposest; so our Foe
　　Shall scape his punishment ordain'd, and wee
　　Instead shall double ours upon our heads. 1040
　　No more be mention'd then of violence
　　Against our selves, and wilful barrenness,
　　That cuts us off from hope, and savours onely
　　Rancor and pride, impatience and despite,
　　Reluctance against God and his just yoke
　　Laid on our Necks. Remember with what mild
　　And gracious temper he both heard and judg'd
　　Without wrauth or reviling; wee expected
　　Immediate dissolution, which we thought
　　Was meant by Death that day, when lo, to thee 1050
　　Pains onely in Child-bearing were foretold,
　　And bringing forth, soon recompenc't with joy,
　　Fruit of thy Womb: On mee the Curse aslope
　　Glanc'd on the ground, with labour I must earne
　　My bread; what harm? Idleness had bin worse;
　　My labour will sustain me; and least Cold
　　Or Heat should injure us, his timely care
　　Hath unbesaught provided, and his hands
　　Cloath'd us unworthie, pitying while he judg'd;
　　How much more, if we pray him, will his ear 1060
　　Be open, and his heart to pitie incline,
　　And teach us further by what means to shun
　　Th' inclement Seasons, Rain, Ice, Hail and Snow,
　　Which now the Skie with various Face begins
　　To shew us in this Mountain, while the Winds
　　Blow moist and keen, shattering the graceful locks
　　Of these fair spreading Trees; which bids us seek
　　Som better shroud, som better warmth to cherish
　　Our Limbs benumm'd, ere this diurnal Starr
　　Leave cold the Night, how we his gather'd beams 1070
　　Reflected, may with matter sere foment,
　　Or by collision of two bodies grinde
　　The Air attrite to Fire, as late the Clouds
　　Justling or pusht with Winds rude in thir shock
　　Tine the slant Lightning, whose thwart flame driv'n down
　　Kindles the gummie bark of Firr or Pine,
　　And sends a comfortable heat from farr,
　　Which might supplie the Sun: such Fire to use,
　　And what may else be remedie or cure
　　To evils which our own misdeeds have wrought, 1080
　　Hee will instruct us praying, and of Grace
　　Beseeching him, so as we need not fear
　　To pass commodiously this life, sustain'd
　　By him with many comforts, till we end
　　In dust, our final rest and native home.
　　What better can we do, then to the place
　　Repairing where he judg'd us, prostrate fall
　　Before him reverent, and there confess
　　Humbly our faults, and pardon beg, with tears
　　Watering the ground, and with our sighs the Air 1090
　　Frequenting, sent from hearts contrite, in sign
　　Of sorrow unfeign'd, and humiliation meek.
　　Undoubtedly he will relent and turn
　　>From his displeasure; in whose look serene,
　　When angry most he seem'd and most severe,
　　What else but favor, grace, and mercie shon?
　　So spake our Father penitent, nor Eve
　　Felt less remorse: they forthwith to the place
　　Repairing where he judg'd them prostrate fell
　　Before him reverent, and both confess'd 1100
　　Humbly thir faults, and pardon beg'd, with tears
　　Watering the ground, and with thir sighs the Air
　　Frequenting, sent from hearts contrite, in sign
　　Of sorrow unfeign'd, and humiliation meek.
　　
　　Notes:
　　58 may] might 1674.
　　241 Avenger] Avengers 1674.
　　397 those] these 1674.
　　827 they acquitted] they then acquitted 1674.
　　
　　The End Of The Tenth Book.
　　
　　
　　
　　BOOK XI.
　　
　　
　　THE ARGUMENT.
　　
　　The Son of God presents to his Father the Prayers of our first
　　Parents now repenting, and intercedes for them: God accepts
　　them, but declares that they must no longer abide in Paradise;
　　sends Michael with a Band of Cherubim to dispossess them; but
　　first to reveal to Adam future things: Michaels coming down,
　　Adam shews to Eve certain ominous signs; he discerns Michaels
　　approach, goes out to meet him: the Angel denounces thir
　　departure. Eve's Lamentation. Adam pleads, but submits: The
　　Angel leads him up to a high Hill, sets before him in a vision
　　what shall happ'n till the Flood.
　　
　　Thus they in lowliest plight repentant stood
　　Praying, for from the Mercie-seat above
　　Prevenient Grace descending had remov'd
　　The stonie from thir hearts, and made new flesh
　　Regenerat grow instead, that sighs now breath'd
　　Unutterable, which the Spirit of prayer
　　Inspir'd, and wing'd for Heav'n with speedier flight
　　Then loudest Oratorie: yet thir port
　　Not of mean suiters, nor important less
　　Seem'd thir Petition, then when th' ancient Pair 10
　　In Fables old, less ancient yet then these,
　　Deucalion and chaste Pyrrha to restore
　　The Race of Mankind drownd, before the Shrine
　　Of Themis stood devout. To Heav'n thir prayers
　　Flew up, nor missed the way, by envious windes
　　Blow'n vagabond or frustrate: in they passd
　　Dimentionless through Heav'nly dores; then clad
　　With incense, where the Golden Altar fum'd,
　　By thir great Intercessor, came in sight
　　Before the Fathers Throne: Them the glad Son 20
　　Presenting, thus to intercede began.
　　See Father, what first fruits on Earth are sprung
　　>From thy implanted Grace in Man, these Sighs
　　And Prayers, which in this Golden Censer, mixt
　　With Incense, I thy Priest before thee bring,
　　Fruits of more pleasing savour from thy seed
　　Sow'n with contrition in his heart, then those
　　Which his own hand manuring all the Trees
　　Of Paradise could have produc't, ere fall'n
　　>From innocence. Now therefore bend thine eare 30
　　To supplication, heare his sighs though mute;
　　Unskilful with what words to pray, let mee
　　Interpret for him, mee his Advocate
　　And propitiation, all his works on mee
　　Good or not good ingraft, my Merit those
　　Shall perfet, and for these my Death shall pay.
　　Accept me, and in mee from these receave
　　The smell of peace toward Mankinde, let him live
　　Before thee reconcil'd, at least his days
　　Numberd, though sad, till Death, his doom (which I 40
　　To mitigate thus plead, not to reverse)
　　To better life shall yeeld him, where with mee
　　All my redeemd may dwell in joy and bliss,
　　Made one with me as I with thee am one.
　　To whom the Father, without Cloud, serene.
　　All thy request for Man, accepted Son,
　　Obtain, all thy request was my Decree:
　　But longer in that Paradise to dwell,
　　The Law I gave to Nature him forbids:
　　Those pure immortal Elements that know 50
　　No gross, no unharmoneous mixture foule,
　　Eject him tainted now, and purge him off
　　As a distemper, gross to aire as gross,
　　And mortal food, as may dispose him best
　　For dissolution wrought by Sin, that first
　　Distemperd all things, and of incorrupt
　　Corrupted. I at first with two fair gifts
　　Created him endowd, with Happiness
　　And Immortalitie: that fondly lost,
　　This other serv'd but to eternize woe; 60
　　Till I provided Death; so Death becomes
　　His final remedie, and after Life
　　Tri'd in sharp tribulation, and refin'd
　　By Faith and faithful works, to second Life,
　　Wak't in the renovation of the just,
　　Resignes him up with Heav'n and Earth renewd.
　　But let us call to Synod all the Blest
　　Through Heav'ns wide bounds; from them I will not hide
　　My judgments, how with Mankind I proceed,
　　As how with peccant Angels late they saw; 70
　　And in thir state, though firm, stood more confirmd.
　　He ended, and the Son gave signal high
　　To the bright Minister that watchd, hee blew
　　His Trumpet, heard in Oreb since perhaps
　　When God descended, and perhaps once more
　　To sound at general Doom. Th' Angelic blast
　　Filld all the Regions: from thir blissful Bowrs
　　Of Amarantin Shade, Fountain or Spring,
　　By the waters of Life, where ere they sate
　　In fellowships of joy: the Sons of Light 80
　　Hasted, resorting to the Summons high,
　　And took thir Seats; till from his Throne supream
　　Th' Almighty thus pronounced his sovran Will.
　　O Sons, like one of us Man is become
　　To know both Good and Evil, since his taste
　　Of that defended Fruit; but let him boast
　　His knowledge of Good lost, and Evil got,
　　Happier, had it suffic'd him to have known
　　Good by it self, and Evil not at all.
　　He sorrows now, repents, and prayes contrite, 90
　　My motions in him, longer then they move,
　　His heart I know, how variable and vain
　　Self-left. Least therefore his now bolder hand
　　Reach also of the Tree of Life, and eat,
　　And live for ever, dream at least to live
　　Forever, to remove him I decree,
　　And send him from the Garden forth to Till
　　The Ground whence he was taken, fitter soile.
　　Michael, this my behest have thou in charge,
　　Take to thee from among the Cherubim 100
　　Thy choice of flaming Warriours, least the Fiend
　　Or in behalf of Man, or to invade
　　Vacant possession som new trouble raise:
　　Hast thee, and from the Paradise of God
　　Without remorse drive out the sinful Pair,
　　>From hallowd ground th' unholie, and denounce
　　To them and to thir Progenie from thence
　　Perpetual banishment. Yet least they faint
　　At the sad Sentence rigorously urg'd,
　　For I behold them soft'nd and with tears 110
　　Bewailing thir excess, all terror hide.
　　If patiently thy bidding they obey,
　　Dismiss them not disconsolate; reveale
　　To Adam what shall come in future dayes,
　　As I shall thee enlighten, intermix
　　My Cov'nant in the Womans seed renewd;
　　So send them forth, though sorrowing, yet in peace:
　　And on the East side of the Garden place,
　　Where entrance up from Eden easiest climbes,
　　Cherubic watch, and of a Sword the flame 120
　　Wide waving, all approach farr off to fright,
　　And guard all passage to the Tree of Life:
　　Least Paradise a receptacle prove
　　To Spirits foule, and all my Trees thir prey,
　　With whose stol'n Fruit Man once more to delude.
　　He ceas'd; and th' Archangelic Power prepar'd
　　For swift descent, with him the Cohort bright
　　Of watchful Cherubim; four faces each
　　Had, like a double Janus, all thir shape
　　Spangl'd with eyes more numerous then those 130
　　Of Argus, and more wakeful then to drouze,
　　Charm'd with Arcadian Pipe, the Pastoral Reed
　　Of Hermes, or his opiate Rod. Meanwhile
　　To resalute the World with sacred Light
　　Leucothea wak'd, and with fresh dews imbalmd
　　The Earth, when Adam and first Matron Eve
　　Had ended now thir Orisons, and found,
　　Strength added from above, new hope to spring
　　Out of despaire, joy, but with fear yet linkt;
　　Which thus to Eve his welcome words renewd. 140
　　Eve, easily may Faith admit, that all
　　The good which we enjoy, from Heav'n descends
　　But that from us ought should ascend to Heav'n
　　So prevalent as to concerne the mind
　　Of God high blest, or to incline his will,
　　Hard to belief may seem; yet this will Prayer,
　　Or one short sigh of humane breath, up-borne
　　Ev'n to the Seat of God. For since I saught
　　By Prayer th' offended Deitie to appease,
　　Kneel'd and before him humbl'd all my heart, 150
　　Methought I saw him placable and mild,
　　Bending his eare; perswasion in me grew
　　That I was heard with favour; peace returnd
　　Home to my brest, and to my memorie
　　His promise, that thy Seed shall bruise our Foe;
　　Which then not minded in dismay, yet now
　　Assures me that the bitterness of death
　　Is past, and we shall live. Whence Haile to thee,
　　Eve rightly call'd, Mother of all Mankind,
　　Mother of all things living, since by thee 160
　　Man is to live, and all things live for Man.
　　To whom thus Eve with sad demeanour meek.
　　Ill worthie I such title should belong
　　To me transgressour, who for thee ordaind
　　A help, became thy snare; to mee reproach
　　Rather belongs, distrust and all dispraise:
　　But infinite in pardon was my Judge,
　　That I who first brought Death on all, am grac't
　　The sourse of life; next favourable thou,
　　Who highly thus to entitle me voutsaf't, 170
　　Farr other name deserving. But the Field
　　To labour calls us now with sweat impos'd,
　　Though after sleepless Night; for see the Morn,
　　All unconcern'd with our unrest, begins
　　Her rosie progress smiling; let us forth,
　　I never from thy side henceforth to stray,
　　Wherere our days work lies, though now enjoind
　　Laborious, till day droop; while here we dwell,
　　What can be toilsom in these pleasant Walkes?
　　Here let us live, though in fall'n state, content. 180
　　So spake, so wish'd much-humbl'd Eve, but Fate
　　Subscrib'd not; Nature first gave Signs, imprest
　　On Bird, Beast, Aire, Aire suddenly eclips'd
　　After short blush of Morn; nigh in her sight
　　The Bird of Jove, stoopt from his aerie tour,
　　Two Birds of gayest plume before him drove:
　　Down from a Hill the Beast that reigns in Woods,
　　First Hunter then, pursu'd a gentle brace,
　　Goodliest of all the Forrest, Hart and Hinde;
　　Direct to th' Eastern Gate was bent thir flight. 190
　　Adam observ'd, and with his Eye the chase
　　Pursuing, not unmov'd to Eve thus spake.
　　O Eve, some furder change awaits us nigh,
　　Which Heav'n by these mute signs in Nature shews
　　Forerunners of his purpose, or to warn
　　Us haply too secure of our discharge
　　>From penaltie, because from death releast
　　Some days; how long, and what till then our life,
　　Who knows, or more then this, that we are dust,
　　And thither must return and be no more. 200
　　Why else this double object in our sight
　　Of flight pursu'd in th' Air and ore the ground
　　One way the self-same hour? why in the East
　　Darkness ere Dayes mid-course, and Morning light
　　More orient in yon Western Cloud that draws
　　O're the blew Firmament a radiant white,
　　And slow descends, with somthing heav'nly fraught.
　　He err'd not, for by this the heav'nly Bands
　　Down from a Skie of Jasper lighted now
　　In Paradise, and on a Hill made alt, 210
　　A glorious Apparition, had not doubt
　　And carnal fear that day dimm'd Adams eye.
　　Not that more glorious, when the Angels met
　　Jacob in Mahanaim, where he saw
　　The field Pavilion'd with his Guardians bright;
　　Nor that which on the flaming Mount appeerd
　　In Dothan, cover'd with a Camp of Fire,
　　Against the Syrian King, who to surprize
　　One man, Assassin-like had levied Warr,
　　Warr unproclam'd. The Princely Hierarch 220
　　In thir bright stand, there left his Powers to seise
　　Possession of the Garden; hee alone,
　　To finde where Adam shelterd, took his way,
　　Not unperceav'd of Adam, who to Eve,
　　While the great Visitant approachd, thus spake.
　　Eve, now expect great tidings, which perhaps
　　Of us will soon determin, or impose
　　New Laws to be observ'd; for I descrie
　　>From yonder blazing Cloud that veils the Hill
　　One of the heav'nly Host, and by his Gate 230
　　None of the meanest, some great Potentate
　　Or of the Thrones above, such Majestie
　　Invests him coming; yet not terrible,
　　That I should fear, nor sociably mild,
　　As Raphael, that I should much confide,
　　But solemn and sublime, whom not to offend,
　　With reverence I must meet, and thou retire.
　　He ended; and th' Arch-Angel soon drew nigh,
　　Not in his shape Celestial, but as Man
　　Clad to meet Man; over his lucid Armes 240
　　A militarie Vest of purple flowd
　　Livelier then Meliboean, or the graine
　　Of Sarra, worn by Kings and Hero's old
　　In time of Truce; Iris had dipt the wooff;
　　His starrie Helme unbuckl'd shew'd him prime
　　In Manhood where Youth ended; by his side
　　As in a glistering Zodiac hung the Sword,
　　Satans dire dread, and in his hand the Spear.
　　Adam bowd low, hee Kingly from his State
　　Inclin'd not, but his coming thus declar'd. 250
　　Adam, Heav'ns high behest no Preface needs:
　　Sufficient that thy Prayers are heard, and Death,
　　Then due by sentence when thou didst transgress,
　　Defeated of his seisure many dayes
　　Giv'n thee of Grace, wherein thou may'st repent,
　　And one bad act with many deeds well done
　　Mayst cover: well may then thy Lord appeas'd
　　Redeem thee quite from Deaths rapacious claimes;
　　But longer in this Paradise to dwell
　　Permits not; to remove thee I am come, 260
　　And send thee from the Garden forth to till
　　The ground whence thou wast tak'n, fitter Soile.
　　He added not, for Adam at the newes
　　Heart-strook with chilling gripe of sorrow stood,
　　That all his senses bound; Eve, who unseen
　　Yet all had heard, with audible lament
　　Discover'd soon the place of her retire.
　　O unexpected stroke, worse then of Death!
　　Must I thus leave thee Paradise? thus leave
　　Thee Native Soile, these happie Walks and Shades, 270
　　Fit haunt of Gods? where I had hope to spend,
　　Quiet though sad, the respit of that day
　　That must be mortal to us both. O flours,
　　That never will in other Climate grow,
　　My early visitation, and my last
　　At Eev'n, which I bred up with tender hand
　　>From the first op'ning bud, and gave ye Names,
　　Who now shall reare ye to the Sun, or ranke
　　Your Tribes, and water from th' ambrosial Fount?
　　Thee lastly nuptial Bowre, by mee adornd 280
　　With what to sight or smell was sweet; from thee
　　How shall I part, and whither wander down
　　Into a lower World, to this obscure
　　And wilde, how shall we breath in other Aire
　　Less pure, accustomd to immortal Fruits?
　　Whom thus the Angel interrupted milde.
　　Lament not Eve, but patiently resigne
　　What justly thou hast lost; nor set thy heart,
　　Thus over fond, on that which is not thine;
　　Thy going is not lonely, with thee goes 290
　　Thy Husband, him to follow thou art bound;
　　Where he abides, think there thy native soile.
　　Adam by this from the cold sudden damp
　　Recovering, and his scatterd spirits returnd,
　　To Michael thus his humble words addressd.
　　Celestial, whether among the Thrones, or nam'd
　　Of them the Highest, for such of shape may seem
　　Prince above Princes, gently hast thou tould
　　Thy message, which might else in telling wound,
　　And in performing end us; what besides 300
　　Of sorrow and dejection and despair
　　Our frailtie can sustain, thy tidings bring,
　　Departure from this happy place, our sweet
　　Recess, and onely consolation left
　　Familiar to our eyes, all places else
　　Inhospitable appeer and desolate,
　　Nor knowing us nor known: and if by prayer
　　Incessant I could hope to change the will
　　Of him who all things can, I would not cease
　　To wearie him with my assiduous cries: 310
　　But prayer against his absolute Decree
　　No more availes then breath against the winde,
　　Blown stifling back on him that breaths it forth:
　　Therefore to his great bidding I submit.
　　This most afflicts me, that departing hence,
　　As from his face I shall be hid, deprivd
　　His blessed count'nance; here I could frequent,
　　With worship, place by place where he voutsaf'd
　　Presence Divine, and to my Sons relate;
　　On this Mount he appeerd, under this Tree 320
　　Stood visible, among these Pines his voice
　　I heard, here with him at this Fountain talk'd:
　　So many grateful Altars I would reare
　　Of grassie Terfe, and pile up every Stone
　　Of lustre from the brook, in memorie,
　　Or monument to Ages, and thereon
　　Offer sweet smelling Gumms & Fruits and Flours:
　　In yonder nether World where shall I seek
　　His bright appearances, or footstep trace?
　　For though I fled him angrie, yet recall'd 330
　　To life prolongd and promisd Race, I now
　　Gladly behold though but his utmost skirts
　　Of glory, and farr off his steps adore.
　　To whom thus Michael with regard benigne.
　　Adam, thou know'st Heav'n his, and all the Earth
　　Not this Rock onely; his Omnipresence fills
　　Land, Sea, and Aire, and every kinde that lives,
　　Fomented by his virtual power and warmd:
　　All th' Earth he gave thee to possess and rule,
　　No despicable gift; surmise not then 340
　　His presence to these narrow bounds confin'd
　　Of Paradise or Eden: this had been
　　Perhaps thy Capital Seate, from whence had spred
　　All generations, and had hither come
　　>From all the ends of th' Earth, to celebrate
　　And reverence thee thir great Progenitor.
　　But this praeeminence thou hast lost, brought down
　　To dwell on eeven ground now with thy Sons:
　　Yet doubt not but in Vallie and in Plaine
　　God is as here, and will be found alike 350
　　Present, and of his presence many a signe
　　Still following thee, still compassing thee round
　　With goodness and paternal Love, his Face
　　Express, and of his steps the track Divine.
　　Which that thou mayst beleeve, and be confirmd,
　　Ere thou from hence depart, know I am sent
　　To shew thee what shall come in future dayes
　　To thee and to thy Ofspring; good with bad
　　Expect to hear, supernal Grace contending
　　With sinfulness of Men; thereby to learn 360
　　True patience, and to temper joy with fear
　　And pious sorrow, equally enur'd
　　By moderation either state to beare,
　　Prosperous or adverse: so shalt thou lead
　　Safest thy life, and best prepar'd endure
　　Thy mortal passage when it comes. Ascend
　　This Hill; let Eve (for I have drencht her eyes)
　　Here sleep below while thou to foresight wak'st,
　　As once thou slepst, while Shee to life was formd.
　　To whom thus Adam gratefully repli'd. 370
　　Ascend, I follow thee, safe Guide, the path
　　Thou lead'st me, and to the hand of Heav'n submit,
　　However chast'ning, to the evil turne
　　My obvious breast, arming to overcom
　　By suffering, and earne rest from labour won,
　　If so I may attain. So both ascend
　　In the Visions of God: It was a Hill
　　Of Paradise the highest, from whose top
　　The Hemisphere of Earth in cleerest Ken
　　Stretcht out to amplest reach of prospect lay. 380
　　Not higher that Hill nor wider looking round,
　　Whereon for different cause the Tempter set
　　Our second Adam in the Wilderness,
　　To shew him all Earths Kingdomes and thir Glory.
　　His Eye might there command wherever stood
　　City of old or modern Fame, the Seat
　　Of mightiest Empire, from the destind Walls
　　Of Cambalu, seat of Cathaian Can
　　And Samarchand by Oxus, Temirs Throne,
　　To Paquin of Sinaean Kings, and thence 390
　　To Agra and Lahor of great Mogul
　　Down to the golden Chersonese, or where
　　The Persian in Ecbatan sate, or since
　　In Hispahan, or where the Russian Ksar
　　In Mosco, or the Sultan in Bizance,
　　Turchestan-born; nor could his eye not ken
　　Th' Empire of Negus to his utmost Port
　　Ercoco and the less Maritine Kings
　　Mombaza, and Quiloa, and Melind,
　　And Sofala thought Ophir, to the Realme 400
　　Of Congo, and Angola fardest South;
　　Or thence from Niger Flood to Atlas Mount
　　The Kingdoms of Almansor, Fez, and Sus,
　　Marocco and Algiers, and Tremisen;
　　On Europe thence, and where Rome was to sway
　　The World: in Spirit perhaps he also saw
　　Rich Mexico the seat of Motezume,
　　And Cusco in Peru, the richer seat
　　Of Atabalipa, and yet unspoil'd
　　Guiana, whose great Citie Geryons Sons 410
　　Call El Dorado: but to nobler sights
　　Michael from Adams eyes the Filme remov'd
　　Which that false Fruit that promis'd clearer sight
　　Had bred; then purg'd with Euphrasie and Rue
　　The visual Nerve, for he had much to see;
　　And from the Well of Life three drops instill'd.
　　So deep the power of these Ingredients pierc'd,
　　Eevn to the inmost seat of mental sight,
　　That Adam now enforc't to close his eyes,
　　Sunk down and all his Spirits became intranst: 420
　　But him the gentle Angel by the hand
　　Soon rais'd, and his attention thus recall'd.
　　Adam, now ope thine eyes, and first behold
　　Th' effects which thy original crime hath wrought
　　In some to spring from thee, who never touch'd
　　Th' excepted Tree, nor with the Snake conspir'd,
　　Nor sinn'd thy sin, yet from that sin derive
　　Corruption to bring forth more violent deeds.
　　His eyes he op'nd, and beheld a field,
　　Part arable and tilth, whereon were Sheaves 430
　　New reapt, the other part sheep-walks and foulds;
　　Ith' midst an Altar as the Land-mark stood
　　Rustic, of grassie sord; thither anon
　　A sweatie Reaper from his Tillage brought
　　First Fruits, the green Eare, and the yellow Sheaf,
　　Uncull'd, as came to hand; a Shepherd next
　　More meek came with the Firstlings of his Flock
　　Choicest and best; then sacrificing, laid
　　The Inwards and thir Fat, with Incense strew'd,
　　On the cleft Wood, and all due Rites perform'd. 440
　　His Offring soon propitious Fire from Heav'n
　　Consum'd with nimble glance, and grateful steame;
　　The others not, for his was not sincere;
　　Whereat hee inlie rag'd, and as they talk'd,
　　Smote him into the Midriff with a stone
　　That beat out life; he fell, and deadly pale
　　Groand out his Soul with gushing bloud effus'd.
　　Much at that sight was Adam in his heart
　　Dismai'd, and thus in haste to th' Angel cri'd.
　　O Teacher, some great mischief hath befall'n 450
　　To that meek man, who well had sacrific'd;
　　Is Pietie thus and pure Devotion paid?
　　T' whom Michael thus, hee also mov'd, repli'd.
　　These two are Brethren, Adam, and to come
　　Out of thy loyns; th' unjust the just hath slain,
　　For envie that his Brothers Offering found
　　>From Heav'n acceptance; but the bloodie Fact
　　Will be aveng'd, and th' others Faith approv'd
　　Loose no reward, though here thou see him die,
　　Rowling in dust and gore. To which our Sire. 460
　　Alas, both for the deed and for the cause!
　　But have I now seen Death? Is this the way
　　I must return to native dust? O sight
　　Of terrour, foul and ugly to behold,
　　Horrid to think, how horrible to feel!
　　To whom thus Michael. Death thou hast seen
　　In his first shape on man; but many shapes
　　Of Death, and many are the wayes that lead
　　To his grim Cave, all dismal; yet to sense
　　More terrible at th' entrance then within. 470
　　Some, as thou saw'st, by violent stroke shall die,
　　By Fire, Flood, Famin, by Intemperance more
　　In Meats and Drinks, which on the Earth shal bring
　　Diseases dire, of which a monstrous crew
　　Before thee shall appear; that thou mayst know
　　What miserie th' inabstinence of Eve
　　Shall bring on men. Immediately a place
　　Before his eyes appeard, sad, noysom, dark,
　　A Lazar-house it seemd, wherein were laid
　　Numbers of all diseas'd, all maladies 480
　　Of gastly Spasm, or racking torture, qualmes
　　Of heart-sick Agonie, all feavorous kinds,
　　Convulsions, Epilepsies, fierce Catarrhs,
　　Intestin Stone and Ulcer, Colic pangs,
　　Dropsies, and Asthma's, and Joint-racking Rheums.
　　Dire was the tossing, deep the groans, despair
　　Tended the sick busiest from Couch to Couch;
　　And over them triumphant Death his Dart
　　Shook, but delaid to strike, though oft invok't
　　With vows, as thir chief good, and final hope. 490
　　Sight so deform what heart of Rock could long
　　Drie-ey'd behold? Adam could not, but wept,
　　Though not of Woman born; compassion quell'd
　　His best of Man, and gave him up to tears
　　A space, till firmer thoughts restraind excess,
　　And scarce recovering words his plaint renew'd.
　　O miserable Mankind, to what fall
　　Degraded, to what wretched state reserv'd?
　　Better end heer unborn. Why is life giv'n
　　To be thus wrested from us? rather why 500
　　Obtruded on us thus? who if we knew
　　What we receive, would either not accept
　　Life offer'd, or soon beg to lay it down,
　　Glad to be so dismist in peace. Can thus
　　Th' Image of God in man created once
　　So goodly and erect, though faultie since,
　　To such unsightly sufferings be debas't
　　Under inhuman pains? Why should not Man,
　　Retaining still Divine similitude
　　In part, from such deformities be free, 510
　　And for his Makers Image sake exempt?
　　Thir Makers Image, answerd Michael, then
　　Forsook them, when themselves they villifi'd
　　To serve ungovern'd appetite, and took
　　His Image whom they serv'd, a brutish vice,
　　Inductive mainly to the sin of Eve.
　　Therefore so abject is thir punishment,
　　Disfiguring not Gods likeness, but thir own,
　　Or if his likeness, by themselves defac't
　　While they pervert pure Natures healthful rules 520
　　To loathsom sickness, worthily, since they
　　Gods Image did not reverence in themselves.
　　I yeild it just, said Adam, and submit.
　　But is there yet no other way, besides
　　These painful passages, how we may come
　　To Death, and mix with our connatural dust?
　　There is, said Michael, if thou well observe
　　The rule of not too much, by temperance taught
　　In what thou eatst and drinkst, seeking from thence
　　Due nourishment, not gluttonous delight, 530
　　Till many years over thy head return:
　　So maist thou live, till like ripe Fruit thou drop
　　Into thy Mothers lap, or be with ease
　　Gatherd, not harshly pluckt, for death mature:
　　This is old age; but then thou must outlive
　　Thy youth, thy strength, thy beauty, which will change
　　To witherd weak & gray; thy Senses then
　　Obtuse, all taste of pleasure must forgoe,
　　To what thou hast, and for the Aire of youth
　　Hopeful and cheerful, in thy blood will reigne 540
　　A melancholly damp of cold and dry
　　To waigh thy spirits down, and last consume
　　The Balme of Life. To whom our Ancestor.
　　Henceforth I flie not Death, nor would prolong
　　Life much, bent rather how I may be quit
　　Fairest and easiest of this combrous charge,
　　Which I must keep till my appointed day
　　Of rendring up, Michael to him repli'd.
　　Nor love thy Life, nor hate; but what thou livst
　　Live well, how long or short permit to Heav'n: 550
　　And now prepare thee for another sight.
　　He lookd and saw a spacious Plaine, whereon
　　Were Tents of various hue; by some were herds
　　Of Cattel grazing: others, whence the sound
　　Of Instruments that made melodious chime
　　Was heard, of Harp and Organ; and who moovd
　　Thir stops and chords was seen: his volant touch
　　Instinct through all proportions low and high
　　Fled and pursu'd transverse the resonant fugue.
　　In other part stood one who at the Forge 560
　　Labouring, two massie clods of Iron and Brass
　　Had melted (whether found where casual fire
　　Had wasted woods on Mountain or in Vale,
　　Down to the veins of Earth, thence gliding hot
　　To som Caves mouth, or whether washt by stream
　　>From underground) the liquid Ore he dreind
　　Into fit moulds prepar'd; from which he formd
　　First his own Tooles; then, what might else be wrought
　　Fulfil or grav'n in mettle. After these,
　　But on the hether side a different sort 570
　　>From the high neighbouring Hills, which was thir Seat,
　　Down to the Plain descended: by thir guise
　　Just men they seemd, and all thir study bent
　　To worship God aright, and know his works
　　Not hid, nor those things lost which might preserve
　　Freedom and Peace to men: they on the Plain
　　Long had not walkt, when from the Tents behold
　　A Beavie of fair Women, richly gay
　　In Gems and wanton dress; to the Harp they sung
　　Soft amorous Ditties, and in dance came on: 580
　　The Men though grave, ey'd them, and let thir eyes
　　Rove without rein, till in the amorous Net
　　Fast caught, they lik'd, and each his liking chose;
　　And now of love they treat till th' Eevning Star
　　Loves Harbinger appeerd; then all in heat
　　They light the Nuptial Torch, and bid invoke
　　Hymen, then first to marriage Rites invok't;
　　With Feast and Musick all the Tents resound.
　　Such happy interview and fair event
　　Of love & youth not lost, Songs, Garlands, Flours, 590
　　And charming Symphonies attach'd the heart
　　Of Adam, soon enclin'd to admit delight,
　　The bent of Nature; which he thus express'd.
　　True opener of mine eyes, prime Angel blest,
　　Much better seems this Vision, and more hope
　　Of peaceful dayes portends, then those two past;
　　Those were of hate and death, or pain much worse,
　　Here Nature seems fulfilld in all her ends.
　　To whom thus Michael. Judg not what is best
　　By pleasure, though to Nature seeming meet, 600
　　Created, as thou art, to nobler end
　　Holie and pure, conformitie divine.
　　Those Tents thou sawst so pleasant, were the Tents
　　Of wickedness, wherein shall dwell his Race
　　Who slew his Brother; studious they appere
　　Of Arts that polish Life, Inventers rare,
　　Unmindful of thir Maker, though his Spirit
　　Taught them, but they his gifts acknowledg'd none.
　　Yet they a beauteous ofspring shall beget;
　　For that fair femal Troop thou sawst, that seemd 610
　　Of Goddesses, so blithe, so smooth, so gay,
　　Yet empty of all good wherein consists
　　Womans domestic honour and chief praise;
　　Bred onely and completed to the taste
　　Of lustful apperence, to sing, to dance,
　　To dress, and troule the Tongue, and roule the Eye.
　　To these that sober Race of Men, whose lives
　　Religious titl'd them the Sons of God,
　　Shall yeild up all thir vertue, all thir fame
　　Ignobly, to the trains and to the smiles 620
　　Of these fair Atheists, and now swim in joy,
　　(Erelong to swim at larg) and laugh; for which
　　The world erelong a world of tears must weepe.
　　To whom thus Adam of short joy bereft.
　　O pittie and shame, that they who to live well
　　Enterd so faire, should turn aside to tread
　　Paths indirect, or in the mid way faint!
　　But still I see the tenor of Mans woe
　　Holds on the same, from Woman to begin.
　　>From Mans effeminate slackness it begins, 630
　　Said th' Angel, who should better hold his place
　　By wisdome, and superiour gifts receavd.
　　But now prepare thee for another Scene.
　　He lookd and saw wide Territorie spred
　　Before him, Towns, and rural works between,
　　Cities of Men with lofty Gates and Towrs,
　　Concours in Arms, fierce Faces threatning Warr,
　　Giants of mightie Bone, and bould emprise;
　　Part wield thir Arms, part courb the foaming Steed,
　　Single or in Array of Battel rang'd 640
　　Both Horse and Foot, nor idely mustring stood;
　　One way a Band _select_ from forage drives
　　A herd of Beeves, faire Oxen and faire Kine
　　>From a fat Meddow ground; or fleecy Flock,
　　Ewes and thir bleating Lambs over the Plaine,
　　Thir Bootie; scarce with Life the Shepherds flye,
　　But call in aide, which tacks a bloody Fray;
　　With cruel Tournament the Squadrons joine;
　　Where Cattel pastur'd late, now scatterd lies
　　With Carcasses and Arms th' ensanguind Field 650
　　Deserted: Others to a Citie strong
　　Lay Siege, encampt; by Batterie, Scale, and Mine,
　　Assaulting; others from the Wall defend
　　With Dart and Jav'lin, Stones and sulfurous Fire;
　　On each hand slaughter and gigantic deeds.
　　In other part the scepter'd Haralds call
　　To Council in the Citie Gates: anon
　　Grey-headed men and grave, with Warriours mixt,
　　Assemble, and Harangues are heard, but soon
　　In factious opposition, till at last 660
　　Of middle Age one rising, eminent
　　In wise deport, spake much of Right and Wrong,
　　Of Justice, of Religion, Truth and Peace,
　　And Judgement from above: him old and young
　　Exploded, and had seiz'd with violent hands,
　　Had not a Cloud descending snatch'd him thence
　　Unseen amid the throng: so violence
　　Proceeded, and Oppression, and Sword-Law
　　Through all the Plain, and refuge none was found.
　　Adam was all in tears, and to his guide 670
　　Lamenting turnd full sad; O what are these,
　　Deaths Ministers, not Men, who thus deal Death
　　Inhumanly to men, and multiply
　　Ten thousand fould the sin of him who slew
　　His Brother; for of whom such massacher
　　Make they but of thir Brethren, men of men?
　　But who was that Just Man, whom had not Heav'n
　　Rescu'd, had in his Righteousness bin lost?
　　To whom thus Michael; These are the product
　　Of those ill-mated Marriages thou saw'st; 680
　　Where good with bad were matcht, who of themselves
　　Abhor to joyn; and by imprudence mixt,
　　Produce prodigious Births of bodie or mind.
　　Such were these Giants, men of high renown;
　　For in those dayes Might onely shall be admir'd,
　　And Valour and Heroic Vertu call'd;
　　To overcome in Battel, and subdue
　　Nations, and bring home spoils with infinite
　　Man-slaughter, shall be held the highest pitch
　　Of human Glorie, and for Glorie done 690
　　Of triumph, to be styl'd great Conquerours,
　　Patrons of Mankind, Gods, and Sons of Gods,
　　Destroyers rightlier call'd and Plagues of men.
　　Thus Fame shall be achiev'd, renown on Earth,
　　And what most merits fame in silence hid.
　　But hee the seventh from thee, whom thou beheldst
　　The onely righteous in a World perverse,
　　And therefore hated, therefore so beset
　　With Foes for daring single to be just,
　　And utter odious Truth, that God would come 700
　　To judge them with his Saints: Him the most High
　　Rapt in a balmie Cloud with winged Steeds
　　Did, as thou sawst, receave, to walk with God
　　High in Salvation and the Climes of bliss,
　　Exempt from Death; to shew thee what reward
　　Awaits the good, the rest what punishment;
　　Which now direct thine eyes and soon behold.
　　He look'd, & saw the face of things quite chang'd;
　　The brazen Throat of Warr had ceast to roar,
　　All now was turn'd to jollitie and game, 710
　　To luxurie and riot, feast and dance,
　　Marrying or prostituting, as befell,
　　Rape or Adulterie, where passing faire
　　Allurd them; thence from Cups to civil Broiles.
　　At length a Reverend Sire among them came,
　　And of thir doings great dislike declar'd,
　　And testifi'd against thir wayes; hee oft
　　Frequented thir Assemblies, whereso met,
　　Triumphs or Festivals, and to them preachd
　　Conversion and Repentance, as to Souls 720
　　In prison under Judgements imminent:
　　But all in vain: which when he saw, he ceas'd
　　Contending, and remov'd his Tents farr off;
　　Then from the Mountain hewing Timber tall,
　　Began to build a Vessel of huge bulk,
　　Measur'd by Cubit, length, & breadth, and highth,
　　Smeard round with Pitch, and in the side a dore
　　Contriv'd, and of provisions laid in large
　　For Man and Beast: when loe a wonder strange!
　　Of everie Beast, and Bird, and Insect small 730
　　Came seavens, and pairs, and enterd in, as taught
　　Thir order; last the Sire, and his three Sons
　　With thir four Wives, and God made fast the dore.
　　Meanwhile the Southwind rose, & with black wings
　　Wide hovering, all the Clouds together drove
　　>From under Heav'n; the Hills to their supplie
　　Vapour, and Exhalation dusk and moist,
　　Sent up amain; and now the thick'nd Skie
　　Like a dark Ceeling stood; down rush'd the Rain
　　Impetuous, and continu'd till the Earth 740
　　No more was seen; the floating Vessel swum
　　Uplifted; and secure with beaked prow
　　Rode tilting o're the Waves, all dwellings else
　　Flood overwhelmd, and them with all thir pomp
　　Deep under water rould; Sea cover'd Sea,
　　Sea without shoar; and in thir Palaces
　　Where luxurie late reign'd, Sea-monsters whelp'd
　　And stabl'd; of Mankind, so numerous late,
　　All left, in one small bottom swum imbark't.
　　How didst thou grieve then, Adam, to behold 750
　　The end of all thy Ofspring, end so sad,
　　Depopulation; thee another Floud,
　　Of tears and sorrow a Floud thee also drown'd,
　　And sunk thee as thy Sons; till gently reard
　　By th' Angel, on thy feet thou stoodst at last,
　　Though comfortless, as when a Father mourns
　　His Childern, all in view destroyd at once;
　　And scarce to th' Angel utterdst thus thy plaint.
　　O Visions ill foreseen! better had I
　　Liv'd ignorant of future, so had borne 760
　　My part of evil onely, each dayes lot
　　Anough to bear; those now, that were dispenst
　　The burd'n of many Ages, on me light
　　At once, by my foreknowledge gaining Birth
　　Abortive, to torment me ere thir being,
　　With thought that they must be. Let no man seek
　　Henceforth to be foretold what shall befall
　　Him or his Childern, evil he may be sure,
　　Which neither his foreknowing can prevent,
　　And hee the future evil shall no less 770
　　In apprehension then in substance feel
　　Grievous to bear: but that care now is past,
　　Man is not whom to warne: those few escap't
　　Famin and anguish will at last consume
　　Wandring that watrie Desert: I had hope
　　When violence was ceas't, and Warr on Earth,
　　All would have then gon well, peace would have crownd
　　With length of happy days the race of man;
　　But I was farr deceav'd; for now I see
　　Peace to corrupt no less then Warr to waste. 780
　　How comes it thus? unfould, Celestial Guide,
　　And whether here the Race of man will end.
　　To whom thus Michael. Those whom last thou sawst
　　In triumph and luxurious wealth, are they
　　First seen in acts of prowess eminent
　　And great exploits, but of true vertu void;
　　Who having spilt much blood, and don much waste
　　Subduing Nations, and achievd thereby
　　Fame in the World, high titles, and rich prey,
　　Shall change thir course to pleasure, ease, and sloth, 790
　　Surfet, and lust, till wantonness and pride
　　Raise out of friendship hostil deeds in Peace.
　　The conquerd also, and enslav'd by Warr
　　Shall with thir freedom lost all vertu loose
　　And feare of God, from whom thir pietie feign'd
　　In sharp contest of Battel found no aide
　　Against invaders; therefore coold in zeale
　　Thenceforth shall practice how to live secure,
　　Worldlie or dissolute, on what thir Lords
　　Shall leave them to enjoy; for th' Earth shall bear 800
　　More then anough, that temperance may be tri'd:
　　So all shall turn degenerate, all deprav'd,
　　Justice and Temperance, Truth and Faith forgot;
　　One Man except, the onely Son of light
　　In a dark Age, against example good,
　　Against allurement, custom, and a World
　　Offended; fearless of reproach and scorn,
　　Or violence, hee of thir wicked wayes
　　Shall them admonish, and before them set
　　The paths of righteousness, how much more safe, 810
　　And full of peace, denouncing wrauth to come
　　On thir impenitence; and shall returne
　　Of them derided, but of God observd
　　The one just Man alive; by his command
　　Shall build a wondrous Ark, as thou beheldst,
　　To save himself and houshold from amidst
　　A World devote to universal rack.
　　No sooner hee with them of Man and Beast
　　_Select_ for life shall in the Ark be lodg'd,
　　And shelterd round, but all the Cataracts 820
　　Of Heav'n set open on the Earth shall powre
　　Raine day and night, all fountaines of the Deep
　　Broke up, shall heave the Ocean to usurp
　　Beyond all bounds, till inundation rise
　　Above the highest Hills: then shall this Mount
　　Of Paradise by might of Waves be moovd
　　Out of his place, pushd by the horned floud,
　　With all his verdure spoil'd, and Trees adrift
　　Down the great River to the op'ning Gulf,
　　And there take root an Iland salt and bare, 830
　　The haunt of Seales and Orcs, and Sea-mews clang.
　　To teach thee that God attributes to place
　　No sanctitie, if none be thither brought
　　By Men who there frequent, or therein dwell.
　　And now what further shall ensue, behold.
　　He lookd, and saw the Ark hull on the floud,
　　Which now abated, for the Clouds were fled,
　　Drivn by a keen North-winde, that blowing drie
　　Wrinkl'd the face of Deluge, as decai'd;
　　And the cleer Sun on his wide watrie Glass 840
　　Gaz'd hot, and of the fresh Wave largely drew,
　　As after thirst, which made thir flowing shrink
　　>From standing lake to tripping ebbe, that stole
　　With soft foot towards the deep, who now had stopt
　　His Sluces, as the Heav'n his windows shut.
　　The Ark no more now flotes, but seems on ground
　　Fast on the top of som high mountain fixt.
　　And now the tops of Hills as Rocks appeer;
　　With clamor thence the rapid Currents drive
　　Towards the retreating Sea thir furious tyde. 850
　　Forthwith from out the Arke a Raven flies,
　　And after him, the surer messenger,
　　A Dove sent forth once and agen to spie
　　Green Tree or ground whereon his foot may light;
　　The second time returning, in his Bill
　　An Olive leafe he brings, pacific signe:
　　Anon drie ground appeers, and from his Arke
　　The ancient Sire descends with all his Train;
　　Then with uplifted hands, and eyes devout,
　　Grateful to Heav'n, over his head beholds 860
　　A dewie Cloud, and in the Cloud a Bow
　　Conspicuous with three lifted colours gay,
　　Betok'ning peace from God, and Cov'nant new.
　　Whereat the heart of Adam erst so sad
　　Greatly rejoyc'd, and thus his joy broke forth.
　　O thou that future things canst represent
　　As present, Heav'nly instructer, I revive
　　At this last sight, assur'd that Man shall live
　　With all the Creatures, and thir seed preserve.
　　Farr less I now lament for one whole World 870
　　Of wicked Sons destroyd, then I rejoyce
　　For one Man found so perfet and so just,
　　That God voutsafes to raise another World
　　>From him, and all his anger to forget.
　　But say, what mean those colourd streaks in Heavn,
　　Distended as the Brow of God appeas'd,
　　Or serve they as a flourie verge to binde
　　The fluid skirts of that same watrie Cloud,
　　Least it again dissolve and showr the Earth?
　　To whom th' Archangel. Dextrously thou aim'st; 880
　　So willingly doth God remit his Ire,
　　Though late repenting him of Man deprav'd,
　　Griev'd at his heart, when looking down he saw
　　The whole Earth fill'd with violence, and all flesh
　　Corrupting each thir way; yet those remoov'd,
　　Such grace shall one just Man find in his sight,
　　That he relents, not to blot out mankind,
　　And makes a Covenant never to destroy
　　The Earth again by flood, nor let the Sea
　　Surpass his bounds, nor Rain to drown the World 890
　　With Man therein or Beast; but when he brings
　　Over the Earth a Cloud, will therein set
　　His triple-colour'd Bow, whereon to look
　　And call to mind his Cov'nant: Day and Night,
　　Seed time and Harvest, Heat and hoary Frost
　　Shall hold thir course, till fire purge all things new,
　　Both Heav'n and Earth, wherein the just shall dwell.
　　
　　Notes:
　　484 After this line, 1674 adds:
　　 Daemoniac Phrenzie, moaping Melancholie
　　 And Moon struck madness, pining Atrophie,
　　 Marasmus, and wide wasting Pestilence,
　　548 Of rendring up, and patiently attend
　　 My dissolution. Michael repli'd 1674.
　　647 tacks] makes 1674.
　　866 that] who 1674.
　　
　　The end of the Eleventh Book.
　　
　　
　　
　　BOOK XII.
　　
　　
　　THE ARGUMENT.
　　
　　The Angel Michael continues from the Flood to relate what shall
　　succeed; then, in the mention of Abraham, comes by degrees to
　　explain who that Seed of the Woman shall be, which was
　　promised Adam and Eve in the Fall; his Incarnation, Death,
　　Resurrection, and Ascention; the state of the Church till his
　　second Coming. Adam greatly satisfied and recomforted by these
　　Relations and Promises descends the Hill with Michael; wakens
　　Eve, who all this while had slept, but with gentle dreams
　　compos'd to quietness of mind and submission. Michael in either
　　hand leads them out of Paradise, the fiery Sword waving behind
　　them, and the Cherubim taking thir Stations to guard the Place.
　　
　　[As one who in his journey bates at Noone
　　Though bent on speed, so heer the Archangel' paus'd
　　Betwixt the world destroy'd and world restor'd,
　　If Adam aught perhaps might interpose;
　　Then with transition sweet new Speech resumes]
　　Thus thou hast seen one World begin and end;
　　And Man as from a second stock proceed.
　　Much thou hast yet to see, but I perceave
　　Thy mortal sight to faile; objects divine
　　Must needs impaire and wearie human sense: 10
　　Henceforth what is to com I will relate,
　　Thou therefore give due audience, and attend.
　　This second sours of Men, while yet but few,
　　And while the dread of judgement past remains
　　Fresh in thir mindes, fearing the Deitie,
　　With some regard to what is just and right
　　Shall lead thir lives, and multiplie apace,
　　Labouring the soile, and reaping plenteous crop,
　　Corn wine and oyle; and from the herd or flock,
　　Oft sacrificing Bullock, Lamb, or Kid, 20
　　With large Wine-offerings pour'd, and sacred Feast
　　Shal spend thir dayes in joy unblam'd, and dwell
　　Long time in peace by Families and Tribes
　　Under paternal rule; till one shall rise
　　Of proud ambitious heart, who not content
　　With fair equalitie, fraternal state,
　　Will arrogate Dominion undeserv'd
　　Over his brethren, and quite dispossess
　　Concord and law of Nature from the Earth;
　　Hunting (and Men not Beasts shall be his game) 30
　　With Warr and hostile snare such as refuse
　　Subjection to his Empire tyrannous:
　　A mightie Hunter thence he shall be styl'd
　　Before the Lord, as in despite of Heav'n,
　　Or from Heav'n claming second Sovrantie;
　　And from Rebellion shall derive his name,
　　Though of Rebellion others he accuse.
　　Hee with a crew, whom like Ambition joyns
　　With him or under him to tyrannize,
　　Marching from Eden towards the West, shall finde 40
　　The Plain, wherein a black bituminous gurge
　　Boiles out from under ground, the mouth of Hell;
　　Of Brick, and of that stuff they cast to build
　　A Citie & Towre, whose top may reach to Heav'n;
　　And get themselves a name, least far disperst
　　In foraign Lands thir memorie be lost,
　　Regardless whether good or evil fame.
　　But God who oft descends to visit men
　　Unseen, and through thir habitations walks
　　To mark thir doings, them beholding soon, 50
　　Comes down to see thir Citie, ere the Tower
　　Obstruct Heav'n Towrs, and in derision sets
　　Upon thir Tongues a various Spirit to rase
　　Quite out thir Native Language, and instead
　　To sow a jangling noise of words unknown:
　　Forthwith a hideous gabble rises loud
　　Among the Builders; each to other calls
　　Not understood, till hoarse, and all in rage,
　　As mockt they storm; great laughter was in Heav'n
　　And looking down, to see the hubbub strange 60
　　And hear the din; thus was the building left
　　Ridiculous, and the work Confusion nam'd.
　　Whereto thus Adam fatherly displeas'd.
　　O execrable Son so to aspire
　　Above his Brethren, to himself affirming
　　Authoritie usurpt, from God not giv'n:
　　He gave us onely over Beast, Fish, Fowl
　　Dominion absolute; that right we hold
　　By his donation; but Man over men
　　He made not Lord; such title to himself 70
　　Reserving, human left from human free.
　　But this Usurper his encroachment proud
　　Stayes not on Man; to God his Tower intends
　　Siege and defiance: Wretched man! what food
　　Will he convey up thither to sustain
　　Himself and his rash Armie, where thin Aire
　　Above the Clouds will pine his entrails gross,
　　And famish him of Breath, if not of Bread?
　　To whom thus Michael. Justly thou abhorr'st
　　That Son, who on the quiet state of men 80
　　Such trouble brought, affecting to subdue
　　Rational Libertie; yet know withall,
　　Since thy original lapse, true Libertie
　　Is lost, which alwayes with right Reason dwells
　　Twinn'd, and from her hath no dividual being:
　　Reason in man obscur'd, or not obeyd,
　　Immediately inordinate desires
　　And upstart Passions catch the Government
　　>From Reason, and to servitude reduce
　　Man till then free. Therefore since hee permits 90
　　Within himself unworthie Powers to reign
　　Over free Reason, God in Judgement just
　　Subjects him from without to violent Lords;
　　Who oft as undeservedly enthrall
　　His outward freedom: Tyrannie must be,
　　Though to the Tyrant thereby no excuse.
　　Yet somtimes Nations will decline so low
　　>From vertue, which is reason, that no wrong,
　　But Justice, and some fatal curse annext
　　Deprives them of thir outward libertie, 100
　　Thir inward lost: Witness th' irreverent Son
　　Of him who built the Ark, who for the shame
　　Don to his Father, heard this heavie curse,
　　Servant Of Servants, on his vitious Race.
　　Thus will this latter, as the former World,
　　Still tend from bad to worse, till God at last
　　Wearied with their iniquities, withdraw
　　His presence from among them, and avert
　　His holy Eyes; resolving from thenceforth
　　To leave them to thir own polluted wayes; 110
　　And one peculiar Nation to _select_
　　>From all the rest, of whom to be invok'd,
　　A Nation from one faithful man to spring:
　　Him on this side Euphrates yet residing,
　　Bred up in Idol-worship; O that men
　　(Canst thou believe?) should be so stupid grown,
　　While yet the Patriark liv'd, who scap'd the Flood,
　　As to forsake the living God, and fall
　　To-worship thir own work in Wood and Stone
　　For Gods! yet him God the most High voutsafes 120
　　To call by Vision from his Fathers house,
　　His kindred and false Gods, into a Land
　　Which he will shew him, and from him will raise
　　A mightie Nation, and upon him showre
　　His benediction so, that in his Seed
　　All Nations shall be blest; hee straight obeys,
　　Not knowing to what Land, yet firm believes:
　　I see him, but thou canst not, with what Faith
　　He leaves his Gods, his Friends, and native Soile
　　Ur of Chaldaea, passing now the Ford 130
　　To Haran, after him a cumbrous Train
　　Of Herds and Flocks, and numerous servitude;
　　Not wandring poor, but trusting all his wealth
　　With God, who call'd him, in a land unknown.
　　Canaan he now attains, I see his Tents
　　Pitcht about Sechem, and the neighbouring Plaine
　　Of Moreb; there by promise he receaves
　　Gift to his Progenie of all that Land;
　　>From Hamath Northward to the Desert South
　　(Things by thir names I call, though yet unnam'd) 140
　　>From Hermon East to the great Western Sea,
　　Mount Hermon, yonder Sea, each place behold
　　In prospect, as I point them; on the shoare
　　Mount Carmel; here the double-founted stream
　　Jordan, true limit Eastward; but his Sons
　　Shall dwell to Senir, that long ridge of Hills.
　　This ponder, that all Nations of the Earth
　　Shall in his Seed be blessed; by that Seed
　　Is meant thy great deliverer, who shall bruise
　　The Serpents head; whereof to thee anon 150
　　Plainlier shall be reveald. This Patriarch blest,
　　Whom Faithful Abraham due time shall call,
　　A Son, and of his Son a Grand-childe leaves,
　　Like him in faith, in wisdom, and renown;
　　The Grandchilde with twelve Sons increast, departs
　　>From Canaan, to a Land hereafter call'd
　　Egypt, divided by the River Nile;
　　See where it flows, disgorging at seaven mouthes
　　Into the Sea: to sojourn in that Land
　　He comes invited by a yonger Son 160
　　In time of dearth, a Son whose worthy deeds
　　Raise him to be the second in that Realme
　　Of Pharao: there he dies, and leaves his Race
　　Growing into a Nation, and now grown
　　Suspected to a sequent King, who seeks
　　To stop thir overgrowth, as inmate guests
　　Too numerous; whence of guests he makes them slaves
　　Inhospitably, and kills thir infant Males:
　　Till by two brethren (those two brethren call
　　Moses and Aaron) sent from God to claime 170
　　His people from enthralment, they return
　　With glory and spoile back to thir promis'd Land.
　　But first the lawless Tyrant, who denies
　　To know thir God, or message to regard,
　　Must be compelld by Signes and Judgements dire;
　　To blood unshed the Rivers must be turnd,
　　Frogs, Lice and Flies must all his Palace fill
　　With loath'd intrusion, and fill all the land;
　　His Cattel must of Rot and Murren die,
　　Botches and blaines must all his flesh imboss, 180
　　And all his people; Thunder mixt with Haile,
　　Haile mixt with fire must rend th' Egyptian Skie
　　And wheel on th' Earth, devouring where it rouls;
　　What it devours not, Herb, or Fruit, or Graine,
　　A darksom Cloud of Locusts swarming down
　　Must eat, and on the ground leave nothing green:
　　Darkness must overshadow all his bounds,
　　Palpable darkness, and blot out three dayes;
　　Last with one midnight stroke all the first-born
　　Of Egypt must lie dead. Thus with ten wounds 190
　　This River-dragon tam'd at length submits
　　To let his sojourners depart, and oft
　　Humbles his stubborn heart, but still as Ice
　　More hard'nd after thaw, till in his rage
　　Pursuing whom he late dismissd, the Sea
　　Swallows him with his Host, but them lets pass
　　As on drie land between two christal walls,
　　Aw'd by the rod of Moses so to stand
　　Divided, till his rescu'd gain thir shoar:
　　Such wondrous power God to his Saint will lend, 200
　　Though present in his Angel, who shall goe
　　Before them in a Cloud, and Pillar of Fire,
　　To guide them in thir journey, and remove
　　Behinde them, while th' obdurat King pursues:
　　All night he will pursue, but his approach
　　Darkness defends between till morning Watch;
　　Then through the Firey Pillar and the Cloud
　　God looking forth will trouble all his Host
　　And craze thir Chariot wheels: when by command
　　Moses once more his potent Rod extends 210
　　Over the Sea; the Sea his Rod obeys;
　　On thir imbattelld ranks the Waves return,
　　And overwhelm thir Warr: the Race elect
　　Safe towards Canaan from the shoar advance
　　Through the wilde Desert, not the readiest way,
　　Least entring on the Canaanite allarmd
　　Warr terrifie them inexpert, and feare
　　Return them back to Egypt, choosing rather
　　Inglorious life with servitude; for life
　　To noble and ignoble is more sweet 220
　　Untraind in Armes, where rashness leads not on.
　　This also shall they gain by thir delay
　　In the wide Wilderness, there they shall found
　　Thir government, and thir great Senate choose
　　Through the twelve Tribes, to rule by Laws ordaind:
　　God from the Mount of Sinai, whose gray top
　　Shall tremble, he descending, will himself
　　In Thunder Lightning and loud Trumpets sound
　　Ordaine them Lawes; part such as appertaine
　　To civil Justice, part religious Rites 230
　　Of sacrifice, informing them, by types
　　And shadowes, of that destind Seed to bruise
　　The Serpent, by what meanes he shall achieve
　　Mankinds deliverance. But the voice of God
　　To mortal eare is dreadful; they beseech
　　That Moses might report to them his will,
　　And terror cease; he grants them thir desire,
　　Instructed that to God is no access
　　Without Mediator, whose high Office now
　　Moses in figure beares, to introduce 240
　　One greater, of whose day he shall foretell,
　　And all the Prophets in thir Age the times
　　Of great Messiah shall sing. Thus Laws and Rites
　　Establisht, such delight hath God in Men
　　Obedient to his will, that he voutsafes
　　Among them to set up his Tabernacle,
　　The holy One with mortal Men to dwell:
　　By his prescript a Sanctuary is fram'd
　　Of Cedar, overlaid with Gold, therein
　　An Ark, and in the Ark his Testimony, 250
　　The Records of his Cov'nant, over these
　　A Mercie-seat of Gold between the wings
　　Of two bright Cherubim, before him burn
　　Seaven Lamps as in a Zodiac representing
　　The Heav'nly fires; over the Tent a Cloud
　　Shall rest by Day, a fierie gleame by Night,
　　Save when they journie, and at length they come,
　　Conducted by his Angel to the Land
　　Promisd to Abraham and his Seed: the rest
　　Were long to tell, how many Battels fought, 260
　　How many Kings destroyd, and Kingdoms won,
　　Or how the Sun shall in mid Heav'n stand still
　　A day entire, and Nights due course adjourne,
　　Mans voice commanding, Sun in Gibeon stand,
　　And thou Moon in the vale of Aialon,
　　Till Israel overcome; so call the third
　　>From Abraham, Son of Isaac, and from him
　　His whole descent, who thus shall Canaan win.
　　Here Adam interpos'd. O sent from Heav'n,
　　Enlightner of my darkness, gracious things 270
　　Thou hast reveald, those chiefly which concerne
　　Just Abraham and his Seed: now first I finde
　　Mine eyes true op'ning, and my heart much eas'd,
　　Erwhile perplext with thoughts what would becom
　　Of mee and all Mankind; but now I see
　　His day, in whom all Nations shall be blest,
　　Favour unmerited by me, who sought
　　Forbidd'n knowledge by forbidd'n means.
　　This yet I apprehend not, why to those
　　Among whom God will deigne to dwell on Earth 280
　　So many and so various Laws are giv'n;
　　So many Laws argue so many sins
　　Among them; how can God with such reside?
　　To whom thus Michael. Doubt not but that sin
　　Will reign among them, as of thee begot;
　　And therefore was Law given them to evince
　　Thir natural pravitie, by stirring up
　　Sin against Law to fight; that when they see
　　Law can discover sin, but not remove,
　　Save by those shadowie expiations weak, 290
　　The bloud of Bulls and Goats, they may conclude
　　Some bloud more precious must be paid for Man,
　　Just for unjust, that in such righteousness
　　To them by Faith imputed, they may finde
　　Justification towards God, and peace
　　Of Conscience, which the Law by Ceremonies
　　Cannot appease, nor Man the moral part
　　Perform, and not performing cannot live.
　　So Law appears imperfet, and but giv'n
　　With purpose to resign them in full time 300
　　Up to a better Cov'nant, disciplin'd
　　>From shadowie Types to Truth, from Flesh to Spirit,
　　>From imposition of strict Laws, to free
　　Acceptance of large Grace, from servil fear
　　To filial, works of Law to works of Faith.
　　And therefore shall not Moses, though of God
　　Highly belov'd, being but the Minister
　　Of Law, his people into Canaan lead;
　　But Joshua whom the Gentiles Jesus call,
　　His Name and Office bearing, who shall quell 310
　　The adversarie Serpent, and bring back
　　Through the worlds wilderness long wanderd man
　　Safe to eternal Paradise of rest.
　　Meanwhile they in thir earthly Canaan plac't
　　Long time shall dwell and prosper, but when sins
　　National interrupt thir public peace,
　　Provoking God to raise them enemies:
　　>From whom as oft he saves them penitent
　　By Judges first, then under Kings; of whom
　　The second, both for pietie renownd 320
　　And puissant deeds, a promise shall receive
　　Irrevocable, that his Regal Throne
　　For ever shall endure; the like shall sing
　　All Prophecie, That of the Royal Stock
　　Of David (so I name this King) shall rise
　　A Son, the Womans Seed to thee foretold,
　　Foretold to Abraham, as in whom shall trust
　　All Nations, and to Kings foretold, of Kings
　　The last, for of his Reign shall be no end.
　　But first a long succession must ensue, 330
　　And his next Son for Wealth and Wisdom fam'd,
　　The clouded Ark of God till then in Tents
　　Wandring, shall in a glorious Temple enshrine.
　　Such follow him, as shall be registerd
　　Part good, part bad, of bad the longer scrowle,
　　Whose foul Idolatries, and other faults
　　Heapt to the popular summe, will so incense
　　God, as to leave them, and expose thir Land,
　　Thir Citie, his Temple, and his holy Ark
　　With all his sacred things, a scorn and prey 340
　　To that proud Citie, whose high Walls thou saw'st
　　Left in confusion, Babylon thence call'd.
　　There in captivitie he lets them dwell
　　The space of seventie years, then brings them back,
　　Remembring mercie, and his Cov'nant sworn
　　To David, stablisht as the dayes of Heav'n.
　　Returnd from Babylon by leave of Kings
　　Thir Lords, whom God dispos'd, the house of God
　　They first re-edifie, and for a while
　　In mean estate live moderate, till grown 350
　　In wealth and multitude, factious they grow;
　　But first among the Priests dissension springs,
　　Men who attend the Altar, and should most
　　Endeavour Peace: thir strife pollution brings
　　Upon the Temple it self: at last they seise
　　The Scepter, and regard not Davids Sons,
　　Then loose it to a stranger, that the true
　　Anointed King Messiah might be born
　　Barr'd of his right; yet at his Birth a Starr
　　Unseen before in Heav'n proclaims him com, 360
　　And guides the Eastern Sages, who enquire
　　His place, to offer Incense, Myrrh, and Gold;
　　His place of birth a solemn Angel tells
　　To simple Shepherds, keeping watch by night;
　　They gladly thither haste, and by a Quire
　　Of squadrond Angels hear his Carol sung.
　　A Virgin is his Mother, but his Sire
　　The Power of the most High; he shall ascend
　　The Throne hereditarie, and bound his Reign
　　With earths wide bounds, his glory with the Heav'ns. 370
　　He ceas'd, discerning Adam with such joy
　　Surcharg'd, as had like grief bin dew'd in tears,
　　Without the vent of words, which these he breathd.
　　O Prophet of glad tidings, finisher
　　Of utmost hope! now clear I understand
　　What oft my steddiest thoughts have searcht in vain,
　　Why our great expectation should be call'd
　　The seed of Woman: Virgin Mother, Haile,
　　High in the love of Heav'n, yet from my Loynes
　　Thou shalt proceed, and from thy Womb the Son 380
　　Of God most High; So God with man unites.
　　Needs must the Serpent now his capital bruise
　　Expect with mortal paine: say where and when
　　Thir fight, what stroke shall bruise the Victors heel.
　　To whom thus Michael. Dream not of thir fight,
　　As of a Duel, or the local wounds
　　Of head or heel: not therefore joynes the Son
　　Manhood to God-head, with more strength to foil
　　Thy enemie; nor so is overcome
　　Satan, whose fall from Heav'n, a deadlier bruise, 390
　　Disabl'd not to give thee thy deaths wound:
　　Which hee, who comes thy Saviour, shall recure,
　　Not by destroying Satan, but his works
　　In thee and in thy Seed: nor can this be,
　　But by fulfilling that which thou didst want,
　　Obedience to the Law of God, impos'd
　　On penaltie of death, and suffering death,
　　The penaltie to thy transgression due,
　　And due to theirs which out of thine will grow:
　　So onely can high Justice rest appaid. 400
　　The Law of God exact he shall fulfill
　　Both by obedience and by love, though love
　　Alone fulfill the Law; thy punishment
　　He shall endure by coming in the Flesh
　　To a reproachful life and cursed death,
　　Proclaiming Life to all who shall believe
　　In his redemption, and that his obedience
　　Imputed becomes theirs by Faith, his merits
　　To save them, not thir own, though legal works.
　　For this he shall live hated, be blasphem'd, 410
　　Seis'd on by force, judg'd, and to death condemnd
　　A shameful and accurst, naild to the Cross
　　By his own Nation, slaine for bringing Life;
　　But to the Cross he nailes thy Enemies,
　　The Law that is against thee, and the sins
　　Of all mankinde, with him there crucifi'd,
　　Never to hurt them more who rightly trust
　　In this his satisfaction; so he dies,
　　But soon revives, Death over him no power
　　Shall long usurp; ere the third dawning light 420
　　Returne, the Starres of Morn shall see him rise
　　Out of his grave, fresh as the dawning light,
　　Thy ransom paid, which Man from death redeems,
　　His death for Man, as many as offerd Life
　　Neglect not, and the benefit imbrace
　　By Faith not void of works: this God-like act
　　Annuls thy doom, the death thou shouldst have dy'd,
　　In sin for ever lost from life; this act
　　Shall bruise the head of Satan, crush his strength
　　Defeating Sin and Death, his two maine armes, 430
　　And fix farr deeper in his head thir stings
　　Then temporal death shall bruise the Victors heel,
　　Or theirs whom he redeems, a death like sleep,
　　A gentle wafting to immortal Life.
　　Nor after resurrection shall he stay
　　Longer on Earth then certaine times to appeer
　　To his Disciples, Men who in his Life
　　Still follow'd him; to them shall leave in charge
　　To teach all nations what of him they learn'd
　　And his Salvation, them who shall beleeve 440
　　Baptizing in the profluent streame, the signe
　　Of washing them from guilt of sin to Life
　　Pure, and in mind prepar'd, if so befall,
　　For death, like that which the redeemer dy'd.
　　All Nations they shall teach; for from that day
　　Not onely to the Sons of Abrahams Loines
　　Salvation shall be Preacht, but to the Sons
　　Of Abrahams Faith wherever through the world;
　　So in his seed all Nations shall be blest.
　　Then to the Heav'n of Heav'ns he shall ascend 450
　　With victory, triumphing through the aire
　　Over his foes and thine; there shall surprise
　　The Serpent, Prince of aire, and drag in Chaines
　　Through all his realme, & there confounded leave;
　　Then enter into glory, and resume
　　His Seat at Gods right hand, exalted high
　　Above all names in Heav'n; and thence shall come,
　　When this worlds dissolution shall be ripe,
　　With glory and power to judge both quick & dead,
　　To judge th' unfaithful dead, but to reward 460
　　His faithful, and receave them into bliss,
　　Whether in Heav'n or Earth, for then the Earth
　　Shall all be Paradise, far happier place
　　Then this of Eden, and far happier daies.
　　So spake th' Archangel Michael, then paus'd,
　　As at the Worlds great period; and our Sire
　　Replete with joy and wonder thus repli'd.
　　O goodness infinite, goodness immense!
　　That all this good of evil shall produce,
　　And evil turn to good; more wonderful 470
　　Then that which by creation first brought forth
　　Light out of darkness! full of doubt I stand,
　　Whether I should repent me now of sin
　　By mee done and occasiond, or rejoyce
　　Much more, that much more good thereof shall spring,
　　To God more glory, more good will to Men
　　>From God, and over wrauth grace shall abound.
　　But say, if our deliverer up to Heav'n
　　Must reascend, what will betide the few
　　His faithful, left among th' unfaithful herd, 480
　　The enemies of truth; who then shall guide
　　His people, who defend? will they not deale
　　Wors with his followers then with him they dealt?
　　Be sure they will, said th' Angel; but from Heav'n
　　Hee to his own a Comforter will send,
　　The promise of the Father, who shall dwell
　　His Spirit within them, and the Law of Faith
　　Working through love, upon thir hearts shall write,
　　To guide them in all truth, and also arme
　　With spiritual Armour, able to resist 490
　　Satans assaults, and quench his fierie darts
　　What Man can do against them, not affraid,
　　Though to the death, against such cruelties
　　With inward consolations recompenc't,
　　And oft supported so as shall amaze
　　Thir proudest persecuters: for the Spirit
　　Powrd first on his Apostles, whom he sends
　　To evangelize the Nations, then on all
　　Baptiz'd, shall them with wondrous gifts endue
　　To speak all Tongues, and do all Miracles, 500
　　As did thir Lord before them. Thus they win
　　Great numbers of each Nation to receave
　　With joy the tidings brought from Heav'n: at length
　　Thir Ministry perform'd, and race well run,
　　Thir doctrine and thir story written left,
　　They die; but in thir room, as they forewarne,
　　Wolves shall succeed for teachers, grievous Wolves,
　　Who all the sacred mysteries of Heav'n
　　To thir own vile advantages shall turne
　　Of lucre and ambition, and the truth 510
　　With superstitions and traditions taint,
　　Left onely in those written Records pure,
　　Though not but by the Spirit understood.
　　Then shall they seek to avail themselves of names,
　　Places and titles, and with these to joine
　　Secular power, though feigning still to act
　　By spiritual, to themselves appropriating
　　The Spirit of God, promisd alike and giv'n
　　To all Beleevers; and from that pretense,
　　Spiritual Lawes by carnal power shall force 520
　　On every conscience; Laws which none shall finde
　　Left them inrould, or what the Spirit within
　　Shall on the heart engrave. What will they then
　　But force the Spirit of Grace it self, and binde
　　His consort Libertie; what, but unbuild
　　His living Temples, built by Faith to stand,
　　Thir own Faith not anothers: for on Earth
　　Who against Faith and Conscience can be heard
　　Infallible? yet many will presume:
　　Whence heavie persecution shall arise 530
　　On all who in the worship persevere
　　Of Spirit and Truth; the rest, farr greater part,
　　Will deem in outward Rites and specious formes
　　Religion satisfi'd; Truth shall retire
　　Bestuck with slandrous darts, and works of Faith
　　Rarely be found: so shall the World goe on,
　　To good malignant, to bad men benigne,
　　Under her own waight groaning, till the day
　　Appeer of respiration to the just,
　　And vengeance to the wicked, at return 540
　　Of him so lately promis'd to thy aid,
　　The Womans seed, obscurely then foretold,
　　Now amplier known thy Saviour and thy Lord,
　　Last in the Clouds from Heav'n to be reveald
　　In glory of the Father, to dissolve
　　Satan with his perverted World, then raise
　　>From the conflagrant mass, purg'd and refin'd,
　　New Heav'ns, new Earth, Ages of endless date
　　Founded in righteousness and peace and love,
　　To bring forth fruits Joy and eternal Bliss. 550
　　He ended; and thus Adam last reply'd.
　　How soon hath thy prediction, Seer blest,
　　Measur'd this transient World, the Race of time,
　　Till time stand fixt: beyond is all abyss,
　　Eternitie, whose end no eye can reach.
　　Greatly instructed I shall hence depart,
　　Greatly in peace of thought, and have my fill
　　Of knowledge, what this vessel can containe;
　　Beyond which was my folly to aspire.
　　Henceforth I learne, that to obey is best, 560
　　And love with feare the onely God, to walk
　　As in his presence, ever to observe
　　His providence, and on him sole depend,
　　Merciful over all his works, with good
　　Still overcoming evil, and by small
　　Accomplishing great things, by things deemd weak
　　Subverting worldly strong, and worldly wise
　　By simply meek; that suffering for Truths sake
　　Is fortitude to highest victorie,
　　And to the faithful Death the Gate of Life; 570
　　Taught this by his example whom I now
　　Acknowledge my Redeemer ever blest.
　　To whom thus also th' Angel last repli'd:
　　This having learnt, thou hast attaind the summe
　　Of wisdom; hope no higher, though all the Starrs
　　Thou knewst by name, and all th' ethereal Powers,
　　All secrets of the deep, all Natures works,
　　Or works of God in Heav'n, Air, Earth, or Sea,
　　And all the riches of this World enjoydst,
　　And all the rule, one Empire; onely add 580
　　Deeds to thy knowledge answerable, add Faith,
　　Add Vertue, Patience, Temperance, add Love,
　　By name to come call'd Charitie, the soul
　　Of all the rest: then wilt thou not be loath
　　To leave this Paradise, but shalt possess
　　A Paradise within thee, happier farr.
　　Let us descend now therefore from this top
　　Of Speculation; for the hour precise
　　Exacts our parting hence; and see the Guards,
　　By mee encampt on yonder Hill, expect 590
　　Thir motion, at whose Front a flaming Sword,
　　In signal of remove, waves fiercely round;
　　We may no longer stay: go, waken Eve;
　　Her also I with gentle Dreams have calm'd
　　Portending good, and all her spirits compos'd
　　To meek submission: thou at season fit
　　Let her with thee partake what thou hast heard,
　　Chiefly what may concern her Faith to know,
　　The great deliverance by her Seed to come
　　(For by the Womans Seed) on all Mankind. 600
　　That ye may live, which will be many dayes,
　　Both in one Faith unanimous though sad,
　　With cause for evils past, yet much more cheer'd
　　With meditation on the happie end.
　　He ended, and they both descend the Hill;
　　Descended, Adam to the Bowre where Eve
　　Lay sleeping ran before, but found her wak't;
　　And thus with words not sad she him receav'd.
　　Whence thou returnst, & whither wentst, I know;
　　For God is also in sleep, and Dreams advise, 610
　　Which he hath sent propitious, some great good
　　Presaging, since with sorrow and hearts distress
　　Wearied I fell asleep: but now lead on;
　　In mee is no delay; with thee to goe,
　　Is to stay here; without thee here to stay,
　　Is to go hence unwilling; thou to mee
　　Art all things under Heav'n, all places thou,
　　Who for my wilful crime art banisht hence.
　　This further consolation yet secure
　　I carry hence; though all by mee is lost, 620
　　Such favour I unworthie am voutsaft,
　　By mee the Promis'd Seed shall all restore.
　　So spake our Mother Eve, and Adam heard
　　Well pleas'd, but answer'd not; for now too nigh
　　Th' Archangel stood, and from the other Hill
　　To thir fixt Station, all in bright array
　　The Cherubim descended; on the ground
　　Gliding meteorous, as Ev'ning Mist
　　Ris'n from a River o're the marish glides,
　　And gathers ground fast at the Labourers heel 630
　　Homeward returning. High in Front advanc't,
　　The brandisht Sword of God before them blaz'd
　　Fierce as a Comet; which with torrid heat,
　　And vapour as the Libyan Air adust,
　　Began to parch that temperate Clime; whereat
　　In either hand the hastning Angel caught
　　Our lingring Parents, and to th' Eastern Gate
　　Let them direct, and down the Cliff as fast
　　To the subjected Plaine; then disappeer'd.
　　They looking back, all th' Eastern side beheld 640
　　Of Paradise, so late thir happie seat,
　　Wav'd over by that flaming Brand, the Gate
　　With dreadful Faces throng'd and fierie Armes:
　　Som natural tears they drop'd, but wip'd them soon;
　　The World was all before them, where to choose
　　Thir place of rest, and Providence thir guide:
　　They hand in hand with wandring steps and slow,
　　Through Eden took thir solitarie way.
　　
　　Notes:
　　Argument: The Angel .... seed] Thence from the Flood relates,
　　and by degrees explains who that seed 1667.
　　1-5 These five lines were added in the Second Edition (1674) when
　　the original tenth book was divided into an eleventh and twelfth.
　　
　　The End.
　　
　　
　　
　　
　　
　　Transcriber's Note: Title page of first edition of Paradise
　　Regained follows:
　　
　　
　　 PARADISE
　　 REGAIND.
　　 A
　　 POEM.
　　 In IV BOOKS
　　 To which is added
　　 SAMSON AGONISTES
　　------------------------------------------------------------
　　 The Author
　　 JOHN MILTON
　　------------------------------------------------------------
　　------------------------------------------------------------
　　 LONDON.
　　 Printed by J.M. for John Starkey at the
　　 Mitre in Fleetstreet, near Temple-Bar.
　　 MDCLXXI
　　
　　
　　
　　
　　
　　PARADISE REGAIN'D.
　　
　　
　　
　　
　　The First Book.
　　
　　
　　I WHO e're while the happy Garden sung,
　　By one mans disobedience lost, now sing
　　Recover'd Paradise to all mankind,
　　By one mans firm obedience fully tri'd
　　Through all temptation, and the Tempter foil'd
　　In all his wiles, defeated and repuls't,
　　And Eden rais'd in the wast Wilderness.
　　Thou Spirit who ledst this glorious Eremite
　　Into the Desert, his Victorious Field
　　Against the Spiritual Foe, and broughtst him thence 10
　　By proof the undoubted Son of God, inspire,
　　As thou art wont, my prompted Song else mute,
　　And bear through highth or depth of natures bounds
　　With prosperous wing full summ'd to tell of deeds
　　Above Heroic, though in secret done,
　　And unrecorded left through many an Age,
　　Worthy t' have not remain'd so long unsung.
　　Now had the great Proclaimer with a voice
　　More awful then the sound of Trumpet, cri'd
　　Repentance, and Heavens Kingdom nigh at hand 20
　　To all Baptiz'd: to his great Baptism flock'd
　　With aw the Regions round, and with them came
　　>From Nazareth the Son of Joseph deem'd
　　To the flood Jordan, came as then obscure,
　　Unmarkt, unknown; but him the Baptist soon
　　Descri'd, divinely warn'd, and witness bore
　　As to his worthier, and would have resign'd
　　To him his Heavenly Office, nor was long
　　His witness unconfirm'd: on him baptiz'd
　　Heaven open'd, and in likeness of a Dove 30
　　The Spirit descended, while the Fathers voice
　　>From Heav'n pronounc'd him his beloved Son
　　That heard the Adversary, who roving still
　　About the world, at that assembly fam'd
　　Would not be last, and with the voice divine
　　Nigh Thunder-struck, th' exalted man, to whom
　　Such high attest was giv'n, a while survey'd
　　With wonder, then with envy fraught and rage
　　Flies to his place, nor rests, but in mid air
　　To Councel summons all his mighty Peers, 40
　　Within thick Clouds and dark ten-fold involv'd,
　　A gloomy Consistory; and them amidst
　　With looks agast and sad he thus bespake.
　　O ancient Powers of Air and this wide world,
　　For much more willingly I mention Air,
　　This our old Conquest, then remember Hell
　　Our hated habitation; well ye know
　　How many Ages, as the years of men,
　　This Universe we have possest, and rul'd
　　In manner at our will th' affairs of Earth, 50
　　Since Adam and his facil consort Eve
　　Lost Paradise deceiv'd by me, though since
　　With dread attending when that fatal wound
　　Shall be inflicted by the Seed of Eve
　　Upon my head, long the decrees of Heav'n
　　Delay, for longest time to him is short;
　　And now too soon for us the circling hours
　　This dreaded time have compast, wherein we
　　Must bide the stroak of that long threatn'd wound,
　　At least if so we can, and by the head 60
　　Broken be not intended all our power
　　To be infring'd, our freedom and our being
　　In this fair Empire won of Earth and Air;
　　For this ill news I bring, the Womans seed
　　Destin'd to this, is late of woman born,
　　His birth to our just fear gave no small cause,
　　But his growth now to youths full flowr, displaying
　　All vertue, grace and wisdom to atchieve
　　Things highest, greatest, multiplies my fear.
　　Before him a great Prophet, to proclaim 70
　　His coming is sent Harbinger, who all
　　Invites, and in the Consecrated stream
　　Pretends to wash off sin and fit them so
　　Purified to receive him pure, or rather
　　To do him honour as their King; all come,
　　And he himself among them was baptiz'd,
　　Not thence to be more pure, but to receive
　　The testimony of Heaven, that who he is
　　Thenceforth the Nations may not doubt; I saw
　　The Prophet do him reverence, on him rising 80
　　Out of the water, Heav'n above the Clouds
　　Unfold her Crystal Dores, thence on his head
　　A perfect Dove descend, what e're it meant
　　And out of Heav'n the Sov'raign voice I heard,
　　This is my Son belov'd, in him am pleas'd.
　　His Mother then is mortal, but his Sire,
　　He who obtains the Monarchy of Heav'n,
　　And what will he not do to advance his Son?
　　His first-begot we know, and sore have felt,
　　When his fierce thunder drove us to the deep; 90
　　Who this is we must learn, for man he seems
　　In all his lineaments, though in his face
　　The glimpses of his Fathers glory shine.
　　Ye see our danger on the utmost edge
　　Of hazard, which admits no long debate,
　　But must with something sudden be oppos'd,
　　Not force, but well couch't fraud, well woven snares,
　　E're in the head of Nations he appear
　　Their King, their Leader, and Supream on Earth.
　　I, when no other durst, sole undertook 100
　　The dismal expedition to find out
　　And ruine Adam, and the exploit perform'd
　　Successfully; a calmer voyage now
　　Will waft me; and the way found prosperous once
　　Induces best to hope of like success.
　　He ended, and his words impression left
　　Of much amazement to th' infernal Crew,
　　Distracted and surpriz'd with deep dismay
　　At these sad tidings; but no time was then
　　For long indulgence to their fears or grief: 110
　　Unanimous they all commit the care
　　And management of this main enterprize
　　To him their great Dictator, whose attempt
　　At first against mankind so well had thriv'd
　　In Adam's overthrow, and led thir march
　　>From Hell's deep-vaulted Den to dwell in light,
　　Regents and Potentates, and Kings, yea gods
　　Of many a pleasant Realm and Province wide.
　　So to the Coast of Jordan he directs
　　His easie steps; girded with snaky wiles, 120
　　Where he might likeliest find this new-declar'd,
　　This man of men, attested Son of God,
　　Temptation and all guile on him to try;
　　So to subvert whom he suspected rais'd
　　To end his Raign on Earth so long enjoy'd:
　　But contrary unweeting he fulfill'd
　　The purpos'd Counsel pre-ordain'd and fixt
　　Of the most High, who in full frequence bright
　　Of Angels, thus to Gabriel smiling spake.
　　Gabriel this day by proof thou shalt behold, 130
　　Thou and all Angels conversant on Earth
　　With man or mens affairs, how I begin
　　To verifie that solemn message late,
　　On which I sent thee to the Virgin pure
　　In Galilee, that she should bear a Son
　　Great in Renown, and call'd the Son of God;
　　Then toldst her doubting how these things could be
　　To her a Virgin, that on her should come
　　The Holy Ghost, and the power of the highest
　　O're-shadow her: this man born and now up-grown, 140
　　To shew him worthy of his birth divine
　　And high prediction, henceforth I expose
　　To Satan; let him tempt and now assay
　　His utmost subtilty, because he boasts
　　And vaunts of his great cunning to the throng
　　Of his Apostasie; he might have learnt
　　Less over-weening, since he fail'd in Job,
　　Whose constant perseverance overcame
　　Whate're his cruel malice could invent.
　　He now shall know I can produce a man 150
　　Of female Seed, far abler to resist
　　All his sollicitations, and at length
　　All his vast force, and drive him back to Hell,
　　Winning by Conquest what the first man lost
　　By fallacy surpriz'd. But first I mean
　　To exercise him in the Wilderness,
　　There he shall first lay down the rudiments
　　Of his great warfare, e're I send him forth
　　To conquer Sin and Death the two grand foes,
　　By Humiliation and strong Sufferance: 160
　　His weakness shall o'recome Satanic strength
　　And all the world, and mass of sinful flesh;
　　That all the Angels and Aetherial Powers,
　　They now, and men hereafter may discern,
　　>From what consummate vertue I have chose
　　This perfect Man, by merit call'd my Son,
　　To earn Salvation for the Sons of men.
　　So spake the Eternal Father, and all Heaven
　　Admiring stood a space, then into Hymns
　　Burst forth, and in Celestial measures mov'd, 170
　　Circling the Throne and Singing, while the hand
　　Sung with the voice, and this the argument.
　　Victory and Triumph to the Son of God
　　Now entring his great duel, not of arms,
　　But to vanquish by wisdom hellish wiles.
　　The Father knows the Son; therefore secure
　　Ventures his filial Vertue, though untri'd,
　　Against whate're may tempt, whate're seduce,
　　Allure, or terrifie, or undermine.
　　Be frustrate all ye stratagems of Hell, 180
　　And devilish machinations come to nought.
　　So they in Heav'n their Odes and Vigils tun'd:
　　Mean while the Son of God, who yet some days
　　Lodg'd in Bethabara where John baptiz'd,
　　Musing and much revolving in his brest,
　　How best the mighty work he might begin
　　Of Saviour to mankind, and which way first
　　Publish his God-like office now mature,
　　One day forth walk'd alone, the Spirit leading;
　　And his deep thoughts, the better to converse 190
　　With solitude, till far from track of men,
　　Thought following thought, and step by step led on,
　　He entred now the bordering Desert wild,
　　And with dark shades and rocks environ'd round,
　　His holy Meditations thus persu'd.
　　O what a multitude of thoughts at once
　　Awakn'd in me swarm, while I consider
　　What from within I feel my self and hear
　　What from without comes often to my ears,
　　Ill sorting with my present state compar'd. 200
　　When I was yet a child, no childish play
　　To me was pleasing, all my mind was set
　　Serious to learn and know, and thence to do
　　What might be publick good; my self I thought
　　Born to that end, born to promote all truth,
　　All righteous things: therefore above my years,
　　The Law of God I read, and found it sweet,
　　Made it my whole delight, and in it grew
　　To such perfection, that e're yet my age
　　Had measur'd twice six years, at our great Feast 210
　　I went into the Temple, there to hear
　　The Teachers of our Law, and to propose
　　What might improve my knowledge or their own;
　　And was admir'd by all, yet this not all
　　To which my Spirit aspir'd, victorious deeds
　　Flam'd in my heart, heroic acts, one while
　　To rescue Israel from the Roman yoke,
　　Thence to subdue and quell o're all the earth
　　Brute violence and proud Tyrannick pow'r,
　　Till truth were freed, and equity restor'd: 220
　　Yet held it more humane, more heavenly first
　　By winning words to conquer willing hearts,
　　And make perswasion do the work of fear;
　　At least to try, and teach the erring Soul
　　Not wilfully mis-doing, but unware
　　Misled: the stubborn only to subdue.
　　These growing thoughts my Mother soon perceiving
　　By words at times cast forth inly rejoyc'd,
　　And said to me apart, high are thy thoughts
　　O Son, but nourish them and let them soar 230
　　To what highth sacred vertue and true worth
　　Can raise them, though above example high;
　　By matchless Deeds express thy matchless Sire.
　　For know, thou art no Son of mortal man,
　　Though men esteem thee low of Parentage,
　　Thy Father is the Eternal King, who rules
　　All Heaven and Earth, Angels and Sons of men,
　　A messenger from God fore-told thy birth
　　Conceiv'd in me a Virgin, he fore-told
　　Thou shouldst be great and sit on David's Throne. 240
　　And of thy Kingdom there should be no end.
　　At thy Nativity a glorious Quire
　　Of Angels in the fields of Bethlehem sung
　　To Shepherds watching at their folds by night,
　　And told them the Messiah now was born,
　　Where they might see him, and to thee they came;
　　Directed to the Manger where thou lais't,
　　For in the Inn was left no better room:
　　A Star, not seen before in Heaven appearing
　　Guided the Wise Men thither from the East, 250
　　To honour thee with Incense, Myrrh, and Gold,
　　By whose bright course led on they found the place,
　　Affirming it thy Star new grav'n in Heaven,
　　By which they knew thee King of Israel born.
　　Just Simeon and Prophetic Anna, warn'd
　　By Vision, found thee in the Temple, and spake
　　Before the Altar and the vested Priest,
　　Like things of thee to all that present stood.
　　This having heard, strait I again revolv'd
　　The Law and Prophets, searching what was writ 260
　　Concerning the Messiah, to our Scribes
　　Known partly, and soon found of whom they spake
　　I am; this chiefly, that my way must lie
　　Through many a hard assay even to the death,
　　E're I the promis'd Kingdom can attain,
　　Or work redemption for mankind, whose sins
　　Full weight must be transferr'd upon my head.
　　Yet neither thus disheartn'd or dismay'd,
　　The time prefixt I waited, when behold
　　The Baptist, (of whose birth I oft had heard, 270
　　Not knew by sight) now come, who was to come
　　Before Messiah and his way prepare.
　　I as all others to his Baptism came,
　　Which I believ'd was from above; but he
　　Strait knew me, and with loudest voice proclaim'd
　　Me him (for it was shew'n him so from Heaven)
　　Me him whose Harbinger he was; and first
　　Refus'd on me his Baptism to confer,
　　As much his greater, and was hardly won;
　　But as I rose out of the laving stream, 280
　　Heaven open'd her eternal doors, from whence
　　The Spirit descended on me like a Dove,
　　And last the sum of all, my Father's voice,
　　Audibly heard from Heav'n, pronounc'd me his,
　　Me his beloved Son, in whom alone
　　He was well pleas'd; by which I knew the time
　　Now full, that I no more should live obscure,
　　But openly begin, as best becomes
　　The Authority which I deriv'd from Heaven.
　　And now by some strong motion I am led 290
　　Into this wilderness, to what intent
　　I learn not yet, perhaps I need not know;
　　For what concerns my knowledge God reveals.
　　So spake our Morning Star then in his rise,
　　And looking round on every side beheld
　　A pathless Desert, dusk with horrid shades;
　　The way he came not having mark'd, return
　　Was difficult, by humane steps untrod;
　　And he still on was led, but with such thoughts
　　Accompanied of things past and to come 300
　　Lodg'd in his brest, as well might recommend
　　Such Solitude before choicest Society.
　　Full forty days he pass'd, whether on hill
　　Sometimes, anon in shady vale, each night
　　Under the covert of some ancient Oak,
　　Or Cedar, to defend him from the dew,
　　Or harbour'd in one Cave, is not reveal'd;
　　Nor tasted humane food, nor hunger felt
　　Till those days ended, hunger'd then at last
　　Among wild Beasts: they at his sight grew mild, 310
　　Nor sleeping him nor waking harm'd, his walk
　　The fiery Serpent fled, and noxious Worm,
　　The Lion and fierce Tiger glar'd aloof.
　　But now an aged man in Rural weeds,
　　Following, as seem'd, the quest of some stray Ewe,
　　Or wither'd sticks to gather; which might serve
　　Against a Winters day when winds blow keen,
　　To warm him wet return'd from field at Eve,
　　He saw approach, who first with curious eye
　　Perus'd him, then with words thus utt'red spake. 320
　　Sir, what ill chance hath brought thee to this place
　　So far from path or road of men, who pass
　　In Troop or Caravan, for single none
　　Durst ever, who return'd, and dropt not here
　　His Carcass, pin'd with hunger and with droughth?
　　I ask the rather and the more admire,
　　For that to me thou seem'st the man, whom late
　　Our new baptizing Prophet at the Ford
　　Of Jordan honour'd so, and call'd thee Son
　　Of God: I saw and heard, for we sometimes 330
　　Who dwell this wild, constrain'd by want, come forth
　　To Town or Village nigh (nighest is far)
　　Where ought we hear, and curious are to hear,
　　What happ'ns new; Fame also finds us out.
　　To whom the Son of God. Who brought me hither
　　Will bring me hence, no other Guide I seek,
　　By Miracle he may, reply'd the Swain,
　　What other way I see not, for we here
　　Live on tough roots and stubs, to thirst inur'd
　　More then the Camel, and to drink go far, 340
　　Men to much misery and hardship born;
　　But if thou be the Son of God, Command
　　That out of these hard stones be made thee bread;
　　So shalt thou save thy self and us relieve
　　With Food, whereof we wretched seldom taste.
　　He ended, and the Son of God reply'd.
　　Think'st thou such force in Bread? is it not written
　　(For I discern thee other then thou seem'st)
　　Man lives not by Bread only, but each Word
　　Proceeding from the mouth of God; who fed 350
　　Our Fathers here with Manna; in the Mount
　　Moses was forty days, nor eat nor drank,
　　And forty days Eliah without food
　　Wandred this barren waste, the same I now:
　　Why dost thou then suggest to me distrust,
　　Knowing who I am, as I know who thou art?
　　Whom thus answer'd th' Arch Fiend now undisguis'd.
　　'Tis true, I am that Spirit unfortunate,
　　Who leagu'd with millions more in rash revolt
　　Kept not my happy Station, but was driv'n 360
　　With them from bliss to the bottomless deep,
　　Vet to that hideous place not so confin'd
　　By rigour unconniving, but that oft
　　Leaving my dolorous Prison I enjoy
　　Large liberty to round this Globe of Earth,
　　Or range in th' Air, nor from the Heav'n of Heav'ns
　　Hath he excluded my resort sometimes.
　　I came among the Sons of God, when he
　　Gave up into my hands Uzzean Job
　　To prove him, and illustrate his high worth; 370
　　And when to all his Angels he propos'd
　　To draw the proud King Ahab into fraud
　　That he might fall in Ramoth, they demurring,
　　I undertook that office, and the tongues
　　Of all his flattering Prophets glibb'd with lyes
　　To his destruction, as I had in charge.
　　For what he bids I do; though I have lost
　　Much lustre of my native brightness, lost
　　To be belov'd of God, I have not lost
　　To love, at least contemplate and admire 380
　　What I see excellent in good, or fair,
　　Or vertuous, I should so have lost all sense.
　　What can be then less in me then desire
　　To see thee and approach thee, whom I know
　　Declar'd the Son of God, to hear attent
　　Thy wisdom, and behold thy God-like deeds?
　　Men generally think me much a foe
　　To all mankind: why should I? they to me
　　Never did wrong or violence, by them
　　I lost not what I lost, rather by them 390
　　I gain'd what I have gain'd, and with them dwell
　　Copartner in these Regions of the World,
　　If not disposer; lend them oft my aid,
　　Oft my advice by presages and signs,
　　And answers, oracles, portents and dreams,
　　Whereby they may direct their future life.
　　Envy they say excites me, thus to gain
　　Companions of my misery and wo.
　　At first it may be; but long since with wo
　　Nearer acquainted, now I feel by proof, 400
　　That fellowship in pain divides not smart,
　　Nor lightens aught each mans peculiar load.
　　Small consolation then, were Man adjoyn'd:
　　This wounds me most (what can it less) that Man,
　　Man fall'n shall be restor'd, I never more.
　　To whom our Saviour sternly thus reply'd.
　　Deservedly thou griev'st, compos'd of lyes
　　>From the beginning, and in lies wilt end;
　　Who boast'st release from Hell, and leave to come
　　Into the Heav'n of Heavens; thou com'st indeed, 410
　　As a poor miserable captive thrall,
　　Comes to the place where he before had sat
　　Among the Prime in Splendour, now depos'd,
　　Ejected, emptyed, gaz'd, unpityed, shun'd,
　　A spectacle of ruin or of scorn
　　To all the Host of Heaven; the happy place
　　Imparts to thee no happiness, no joy,
　　Rather inflames thy torment, representing
　　Lost bliss, to thee no more communicable,
　　So never more in Hell then when in Heaven. 420
　　But thou art serviceable to Heaven's King.
　　Wilt thou impute to obedience what thy fear
　　Extorts, or pleasure to do ill excites?
　　What but thy malice mov'd thee to misdeem
　　Of righteous Job, then cruelly to afflict him
　　With all inflictions, but his patience won?
　　The other service was thy chosen task,
　　To be a lyer in four hundred mouths;
　　For lying is thy sustenance, thy food.
　　Yet thou pretend'st to truth; all Oracles 430
　　By thee are giv'n, and what confest more true
　　Among the Nations ? that hath been thy craft,
　　By mixing somewhat true to vent more lyes.
　　But what have been thy answers, what but dark
　　Ambiguous and with double sense deluding,
　　Which they who ask'd have seldom understood,
　　And not well understood as good not known?
　　Who ever by consulting at thy shrine
　　Return'd the wiser, or the more instruct
　　To flye or follow what concern'd him most, 440
　　And run not sooner to his fatal snare?
　　For God hath justly giv'n the Nations up
　　To thy Delusions; justly, since they fell
　　Idolatrous, but when his purpose is
　　Among them to declare his Providence
　　To thee not known, whence hast thou then thy truth,
　　But from him or his Angels President
　　In every Province, who themselves disdaining
　　To approach thy Temples, give thee in command
　　What to the smallest tittle thou shalt say 450
　　To thy Adorers; thou with trembling fear,
　　Or like a Fawning Parasite obey'st;
　　Then to thy self ascrib'st the truth fore-told.
　　But this thy glory shall be soon retrench'd;
　　No more shalt thou by oracling abuse
　　The Gentiles; henceforth Oracles are ceast,
　　And thou no more with Pomp and Sacrifice
　　Shalt be enquir'd at Delphos or elsewhere,
　　At least in vain, for they shall find thee mute.
　　God hath now sent his living Oracle 460
　　Into the World, to teach his final will,
　　And sends his Spirit of Truth henceforth to dwell
　　In pious Hearts, an inward Oracle
　　To all truth requisite for men to know.
　　So spake our Saviour; but the subtle Fiend,
　　Though inly stung with anger and disdain,
　　Dissembl'd, and this answer smooth return'd.
　　Sharply thou hast insisted on rebuke,
　　And urg'd me hard with doings, which not will
　　But misery hath rested from me; where 470
　　Easily canst thou find one miserable,
　　And not inforc'd oft-times to part from truth;
　　If it may stand him more in stead to lye,
　　Say and unsay, feign, flatter, or abjure?
　　But thou art plac't above me, thou art Lord;
　　>From thee I can and must submiss endure
　　Check or reproof, and glad to scape so quit.
　　Hard are the ways of truth, and rough to walk,
　　Smooth on the tongue discourst, pleasing to th' ear,
　　And tuneable as Silvan Pipe or Song; 480
　　What wonder then if I delight to hear
　　Her dictates from thy mouth? most men admire
　　Vertue, who follow not her lore: permit me
　　To hear thee when I come (since no man comes)
　　And talk at least, though I despair to attain.
　　Thy Father, who is holy, wise and pure,
　　Suffers the Hypocrite or Atheous Priest
　　To tread his Sacred Courts, and minister
　　About his Altar, handling holy things,
　　Praying or vowing, and vouchsaf'd his voice 490
　　To Balaam reprobate, a Prophet yet
　　Inspir'd; disdain not such access to me.
　　To whom our Saviour with unalter'd brow
　　Thy coming hither, though I know thy scope,
　　I bid not or forbid; do as thou find'st
　　Permission from above; thou canst not more.
　　He added not; and Satan bowing low
　　His gray dissimulation, disappear'd
　　Into thin Air diffus'd: for now began
　　Night with her sullen wing to double-shade 500
　　The Desert Fowls in thir clay nests were couch't;
　　And now wild Beasts came forth the woods to roam.
　　
　　The End of the First Book.
　　
　　
　　
　　The Second Book.
　　
　　
　　MEAN while the new-baptiz'd, who yet remain'd
　　At Jordan with the Baptist, and had seen
　　Him whom they heard so late expresly call'd
　　Jesus Messiah Son of God declar'd,
　　And on that high Authority had believ'd,
　　And with him talkt, and with him lodg'd, I mean
　　Andrew and Simon, famous after known
　　With others though in Holy Writ not nam'd,
　　Now missing him thir joy so lately found,
　　So lately found, and so abruptly gone, 10
　　Began to doubt, and doubted many days,
　　And as the days increas'd, increas'd thir doubt:
　　Sometimes they thought he might be only shewn,
　　And for a time caught up to God, as once
　　Moses was in the Mount, and missing long;
　　And the great Thisbite who on fiery wheels
　　Rode up to Heaven, yet once again to come.
　　Therefore as those young Prophets then with care
　　Sought lost Eliah, so in each place these
　　Nigh to Bethabara; in Jerico 20
　　The City of Palms, Aenon, and Salem Old,
　　Machaerus and each Town or City wall'd
　　On this side the broad lake Genezaret
　　Or in Perea, but return'd in vain.
　　Then on the bank of Jordan, by a Creek:
　　Where winds with Reeds, and Osiers whisp'ring play
　　Plain Fishermen, no greater men them call,
　　Close in a Cottage low together got
　　Thir unexpected loss and plaints out breath'd.
　　Alas from what high hope to what relapse 30
　　Unlook'd for are we fall'n, our eyes beheld
　　Messiah certainly now come, so long
　　Expected of our Fathers; we have heard
　　His words, his wisdom full of grace and truth,
　　Now, now, for sure, deliverance is at hand,
　　The Kingdom shall to Israel be restor'd:
　　Thus we rejoyc'd, but soon our joy is turn'd
　　Into perplexity and new amaze:
　　For whither is he gone, what accident
　　Hath rapt him from us? will he now retire 40
　　After appearance, and again prolong
　　Our expectation? God of Israel,
　　Send thy Messiah forth, the time is come;
　　Behold the Kings of the Earth how they oppress
　　Thy chosen, to what highth thir pow'r unjust
　　They have exalted, and behind them cast
　　All fear of thee, arise and vindicate
　　Thy Glory, free thy people from thir yoke,
　　But let us wait; thus far he hath perform'd,
　　Sent his Anointed, and to us reveal'd him, 50
　　By his great Prophet, pointed at and shown,
　　In publick, and with him we have convers'd;
　　Let us be glad of this, and all our fears
　　Lay on his Providence; he will not fail
　　Nor will withdraw him now, nor will recall,
　　Mock us with his blest sight, then snatch him hence,
　　Soon we shall see our hope, our joy return.
　　Thus they out of their plaints new hope resume
　　To find whom at the first they found unsought:
　　But to his Mother Mary, when she saw 60
　　Others return'd from Baptism, not her Son,
　　Nor left at Jordan, tydings of him none;
　　Within her brest, though calm; her brest though pure,
　　Motherly cares and fears got head, and rais'd
　　Some troubl'd thoughts, which she in sighs thus clad.
　　O what avails me now that honour high
　　To have conceiv'd of God, or that salute
　　Hale highly favour'd, among women blest;
　　While I to sorrows am no less advanc't,
　　And fears as eminent, above the lot 70
　　Of other women, by the birth I bore,
　　In such a season born when scarce a Shed
　　Could be obtain'd to shelter him or me
　　>From the bleak air; a Stable was our warmth,
　　A Manger his, yet soon enforc't to flye
　　Thence into Egypt, till the Murd'rous King
　　Were dead, who sought his life, and missing fill'd
　　With Infant blood the streets of Bethlehem;
　　>From Egypt home return'd, in Nazareth
　　Hath been our dwelling many years, his life 80
　　Private, unactive, calm, contemplative,
　　Little suspicious to any King; but now
　　Full grown to Man, acknowledg'd, as I hear,
　　By John the Baptist, and in publick shown,
　　Son own'd from Heaven by his Father's voice;
　　I look't for some great change; to Honour? no,
　　But trouble, as old Simeon plain foretold,
　　That to the fall and rising he should be
　　Of Many in Israel, and to a sign
　　Spoken against, that through my very Soul 90
　　A sword shall pierce, this is my favour'd lot,
　　My Exaltation to Afflictions high;
　　Afflicted I may be, it seems, and blest;
　　I will not argue that, nor will repine.
　　But where delays he now? some great intent
　　Conceals him: when twelve years he scarce had seen,
　　I lost him, but so found, as well I saw
　　He could not lose himself; but went about
　　His Father's business; what he meant I mus'd,
　　Since understand; much more his absence now 100
　　Thus long to some great purpose he obscures.
　　But I to wait with patience am inur'd;
　　My heart hath been a store-house long of things
　　And sayings laid up, portending strange events.
　　Thus Mary pondering oft, and oft to mind
　　Recalling what remarkably had pass'd
　　Since first her Salutation heard, with thoughts
　　Meekly compos'd awaited the fulfilling:
　　The while her Son tracing the Desert wild,
　　Sole but with holiest Meditations fed, 110
　　Into himself descended, and at once
　　All his great work to come before him set;
　　How to begin, how to accomplish best
　　His end of being on Earth, and mission high:
　　For Satan with slye preface to return
　　Had left him vacant, and with speed was gon
　　Up to the middle Region of thick Air,
　　Where all his Potentates in Council sate;
　　There without sign of boast, or sign of joy,
　　Sollicitous and blank he thus began. 120
　　Princes, Heavens antient Sons, Aethereal Thrones,
　　Demonian Spirits now, from the Element
　　Each of his reign allotted, rightlier call'd,
　　Powers of Fire, Air, Water, and Earth beneath,
　　So may we hold our place and these mild seats
　　Without new trouble; such an Enemy
　　Is ris'n to invade us, who no less
　　Threat'ns then our expulsion down to Hell;
　　I, as I undertook, and with the vote
　　Consenting in full frequence was impowr'd, 130
　　Have found him, view'd him, tasted him, but find
　　Far other labour to be undergon
　　Then when I dealt with Adam first of Men,
　　Though Adam by his Wives allurement fell,
　　However to this Man inferior far,
　　If he be Man by Mothers side at least,
　　With more then humane gifts from Heav'n adorn'd,
　　Perfections absolute, Graces divine,
　　And amplitude of mind to greatest Deeds.
　　Therefore I am return'd, lest confidence 140
　　Of my success with Eve in Paradise
　　Deceive ye to perswasion over-sure
　　Of like succeeding here; I summon all
　　Rather to be in readiness, with hand
　　Or counsel to assist; lest I who erst
　　Thought none my equal, now be over-match'd.
　　So spake the old Serpent doubting, and from all
　　With clamour was assur'd thir utmost aid
　　At his command; when from amidst them rose
　　Belial the dissolutest Spirit that fell 150
　　The sensuallest, and after Asmodai
　　The fleshliest Incubus, and thus advis'd.
　　Set women in his eye and in his walk,
　　Among daughters of men the fairest found;
　　Many are in each Region passing fair
　　As the noon Skie; more like to Goddesses
　　Then Mortal Creatures, graceful and discreet,
　　Expert in amorous Arts, enchanting tongues
　　Perswasive, Virgin majesty with mild
　　And sweet allay'd, yet terrible to approach, 160
　　Skill'd to retire, and in retiring draw
　　Hearts after them tangl'd in Amorous Nets.
　　Such object hath the power to soft'n and tame
　　Severest temper, smooth the rugged'st brow,
　　Enerve, and with voluptuous hope dissolve,
　　Draw out with credulous desire, and lead
　　At will the manliest, resolutest brest,
　　As the Magnetic hardest Iron draws.
　　Women, when nothing else, beguil'd the heart
　　Of wisest Solomon, and made him build, 170
　　And made him bow to the Gods of his Wives.
　　To whom quick answer Satan thus return'd
　　Belial in much uneven scale thou weigh'st
　　All others by thy self; because of old
　　Thou thy self doat'st on womankind, admiring
　　Thir shape, thir colour, and attractive grace,
　　None are, thou think'st, but taken with such toys.
　　Before the Flood thou with thy lusty Crew,
　　False titl'd Sons of God, roaming the Earth
　　Cast wanton eyes on the daughters of men, 180
　　And coupl'd with them, and begot a race.
　　Have we not seen, or by relation heard,
　　In Courts and Regal Chambers how thou lurk'st,
　　In Wood or Grove by mossie Fountain side,
　　In Valley or Green Meadow to way-lay
　　Some beauty rare, Calisto, Clymene,
　　Daphne, or Semele, Antiopa,
　　Or Amymone, Syrinx, many more
　　Too long, then lay'st thy scapes on names ador'd,
　　Apollo, Neptune, Jupiter, or Pan, 190
　　Satyr, or Fawn, or Silvan? But these haunts
　　Delight not all; among the Sons of Men,
　　How many have with a smile made small account
　　Of beauty and her lures, easily scorn'd
　　All her assaults, on worthier things intent?
　　Remember that Pellean Conquerour,
　　A youth, how all the Beauties of the East
　　He slightly view'd, and slightly over-pass'd;
　　How hee sirnam'd of Africa dismiss'd
　　In his prime youth the fair Iberian maid. 200
　　For Solomon he liv'd at ease, and full
　　Of honour, wealth, high fare, aim'd not beyond
　　Higher design then to enjoy his State;
　　Thence to the bait of Women lay expos'd;
　　But he whom we attempt is wiser far
　　Then Solomon, of more exalted mind,
　　Made and set wholly on the accomplishment
　　Of greatest things; what woman will you find,
　　Though of this Age the wonder and the fame,
　　On whom his leisure will vouchsafe an eye 210
　　Of fond desire? or should she confident,
　　As sitting Queen ador'd on Beauties Throne,
　　Descend with all her winning charms begirt
　　To enamour, as the Zone of Venus once
　　Wrought that effect on Jove, so Fables tell;
　　How would one look from his Majestick brow
　　Seated as on the top of Vertues hill,
　　Discount'nance her despis'd, and put to rout
　　All her array; her female pride deject,
　　Or turn to reverent awe? for Beauty stands 220
　　In the admiration only of weak minds
　　Led captive; cease to admire, and all her Flumes
　　Fall flat and shrink into a trivial toy,
　　At every sudden slighting quite abasht:
　　Therefore with manlier objects we must try
　　His constancy, with such as have more shew
　　Of worth, of honour, glory, and popular praise;
　　Rocks whereon greatest men have oftest wreck'd;
　　Or that which only seems to satisfie
　　Lawful desires of Nature, not beyond; 230
　　And now I know he hungers where no food
　　Is to be found, in the wide Wilderness;
　　The rest commit to me, I shall let pass
　　No advantage, and his strength as oft assay.
　　He ceas'd, and heard thir grant in loud acclaim;
　　Then forthwith to him takes a chosen band
　　Of Spirits likest to himself in guile
　　To be at hand, and at his beck appear,
　　If cause were to unfold some active Scene
　　Of various persons each to know his part; 240
　　Then to the Desert takes with these his flight;
　　Where still from shade to shade the Son of God
　　After forty days fasting had remain'd,
　　Now hungring first, and to himself thus said.
　　Where will this end? four times ten days I have pass'd
　　Wandring this woody maze, and humane food
　　Nor tasted, nor had appetite: that Fast
　　To Vertue I impute not, or count part
　　Of what I suffer here; if Nature need not,
　　Or God support Nature without repast 250
　　Though needing, what praise is it to endure?
　　But now I feel I hunger, which declares,
　　Nature hath need of what she asks; yet God
　　Can satisfie that need some other way,
　　Though hunger still remain: so it remain
　　Without this bodies wasting, I content me,
　　And from the sting of Famine fear no harm,
　　Nor mind it, fed with better thoughts that feed
　　Mee hungring more to do my Fathers will.
　　It was the hour of night, when thus the Son 260
　　Commun'd in silent walk, then laid him down
　　Under the hospitable covert nigh
　　Of Trees thick interwoven; there he slept,
　　And dream'd, as appetite is wont to dream,
　　Of meats and drinks, Natures refreshment sweet;
　　Him thought, he by the Brook of Cherith stood
　　And saw the Ravens with thir horny beaks
　　Food to Elijah bringing Even and Morn,
　　Though ravenous, taught to abstain from what they brought:
　　He saw the Prophet also how he fled 270
　　Into the Desert, and how there he slept
　　Under a Juniper; then how awakt,
　　He found his Supper on the coals prepar'd,
　　And by the Angel was bid rise and eat,
　　And eat the second time after repose,
　　The strength whereof suffic'd him forty days;
　　Sometimes that with Elijah he partook,
　　Or as a guest with Daniel at his pulse.
　　Thus wore out night, and now the Herald Lark
　　Left his ground-nest, high towring to descry 280
　　The morns approach, and greet her with his Song:
　　As lightly from his grassy Couch up rose
　　Our Saviour, and found all was but a dream,
　　Fasting he went to sleep, and fasting wak'd.
　　Up to a hill anon his steps he rear'd,
　　>From whose high top to ken the prospect round,
　　If Cottage were in view, Sheep-cote or Herd;
　　But Cottage, Herd or Sheep-cote none he saw,
　　Only in a bottom saw a pleasant Grove,
　　With chaunt of tuneful Birds resounding loud; 290
　　Thither he bent his way, determin'd there
　　To rest at noon, and entr'd soon the shade
　　High rooft and walks beneath, and alleys brown
　　That open'd in the midst a woody Scene,
　　Natures own work it seem'd (Nature taught Art)
　　And to a Superstitious eye the haunt
　　Of Wood-Gods and Wood-Nymphs; he view'd it round,
　　When suddenly a man before him stood,
　　Not rustic as before, but seemlier clad,
　　As one in City, or Court, or Palace bred, 300
　　And with fair speech these words to him address'd.
　　With granted leave officious I return,
　　But much more wonder that the Son of God
　　In this wild solitude so long should bide
　　Of all things destitute, and well I know,
　　Not without hunger. Others of some note,
　　As story tells, have trod this Wilderness;
　　The Fugitive Bond-woman with her Son
　　Out cast Nebaioth, yet found he relief
　　By a providing Angel; all the race 310
　　Of Israel here had famish'd, had not God
　　Rain'd from Heaven Manna, and that Prophet bold
　　Native of Thebes wandring here was fed
　　Twice by a voice inviting him to eat.
　　Of thee these forty days none hath regard,
　　Forty and more deserted here indeed.
　　To whom thus Jesus; what conclud'st thou hence?
　　They all had need, I as thou seest have none.
　　How hast thou hunger then? Satan reply'd,
　　Tell me if Food were now before thee set, 320
　　Would'st thou not eat? Thereafter as I like
　　The giver, answer'd Jesus. Why should that
　　Cause thy refusal, said the subtle Fiend,
　　Hast thou not right to all Created things,
　　Owe not all Creatures by just right to thee
　　Duty and Service, nor to stay till bid,
　　But tender all their power? nor mention I
　　Meats by the Law unclean, or offer'd first
　　To Idols, those young Daniel could refuse;
　　Nor proffer'd by an Enemy, though who 330
　　Would scruple that, with want opprest? behold
　　Nature asham'd, or better to express,
　　Troubl'd that thou should'st hunger, hath purvey'd
　　>From all the Elements her choicest store
　　To treat thee as beseems, and as her Lord
　　With honour, only deign to sit and eat.
　　He spake no dream, for as his words had end,
　　Our Saviour lifting up his eyes beheld
　　In ample space under the broadest shade
　　A Table richly spred, in regal mode, 340
　　With dishes pil'd, and meats of noblest sort
　　And savour, Beasts of chase, or Fowl of game,
　　In pastry built, or from the spit, or boyl'd,
　　Gris-amber-steam'd; all Fish from Sea or Shore,
　　Freshet, or purling Brook, of shell or fin,
　　And exquisitest name, for which was drain'd
　　Pontus and Lucrine Bay, and Afric Coast.
　　Alas how simple, to these Cates compar'd,
　　Was that crude Apple that diverted Eve!
　　And at a stately side-board by the wine 350
　　That fragrant smell diffus'd, in order stood
　　Tall stripling youths rich clad, of fairer hew
　　Then Ganymed or Hylas, distant more
　　Under the Trees now trip'd, now solemn stood
　　Nymphs of Diana's train, and Naiades
　　With fruits and flowers from Amalthea's horn,
　　And Ladies of th' Hesperides, that seem'd
　　Fairer then feign'd of old, or fabl'd since
　　Of Fairy Damsels met in Forest wide
　　By Knights of Logres, or of Lyones, 360
　　Lancelot or Pelleas, or Pellenore,
　　And all the while Harmonious Airs were heard
　　Of chiming strings, or charming pipes and winds
　　Of gentlest gale Arabian odors fann'd
　　>From their soft wings, and flora's earliest smells.
　　Such was the Splendour, and the Tempter now
　　His invitation earnestly renew'd.
　　What doubts the Son of God to sit and eat?
　　These are not Fruits forbidden, no interdict
　　Defends the touching of these viands pure, 370
　　Thir taste no knowledge works, at least of evil,
　　But life preserves, destroys life's enemy,
　　Hunger, with sweet restorative delight.
　　All these are Spirits of Air, and Woods, and Springs,
　　Thy gentle Ministers, who come to pay
　　Thee homage, and acknowledge thee thir Lord:
　　What doubt'st thou Son of God? sit down and eat.
　　To whom thus Jesus temperately reply'd:
　　Said'st thou not that to all things I had right?
　　And who withholds my pow'r that right to use? 380
　　Shall I receive by gift what of my own,
　　When and where likes me best, I can command?
　　I can at will, doubt not, as soon as thou,
　　Command a Table in this Wilderness,
　　And call swift flights of Angels ministrant
　　Array'd in Glory on my cup to attend:
　　Why shouldst thou then obtrude this diligence,
　　In vain, where no acceptance it can find,
　　And with my hunger what hast thou to do?
　　Thy pompous Delicacies I contemn, 390
　　And count thy specious gifts no gifts but guiles.
　　To whom thus answer'd Satan malecontent:
　　That I have also power to give thou seest,
　　If of that pow'r I bring thee voluntary
　　What I might have bestow'd on whom I pleas'd.
　　And rather opportunely in this place
　　Chose to impart to thy apparent need,
　　Why shouldst thou not accept it? but I see
　　What I can do or offer is suspect;
　　Of these things others quickly will dispose 400
　　Whose pains have earn'd the far fet spoil. With that
　　Both Table and Provision vanish'd quite
　　With sound of Harpies wings, and Talons heard;
　　Only the importune Tempter still remain'd,
　　And with these words his temptation pursu'd.
　　By hunger, that each other Creature tames,
　　Thou art not to be harm'd, therefore not mov'd;
　　Thy temperance invincible besides,
　　For no allurement yields to appetite,
　　And all thy heart is set on high designs, 410
　　High actions: but wherewith to be atchiev'd?
　　Great acts require great means of enterprise,
　　Thou art unknown, unfriended, low of birth,
　　A Carpenter thy Father known, thy self
　　Bred up in poverty and streights at home;
　　Lost in a Desert here and hunger-bit:
　　Which way or from what hope dost thou aspire
　　To greatness? whence Authority deriv'st,
　　What Followers, what Retinue canst thou gain,
　　Or at thy heels the dizzy Multitude, 420
　　Longer then thou canst feed them on thy cost?
　　Money brings Honour, Friends, Conquest, and Realms;
　　What rais'd Antipater the Edomite,
　　And his Son Herod plac'd on Juda's Throne;
　　(Thy throne) but gold that got him puissant friends?
　　Therefore, if at great things thou wouldst arrive,
　　Get Riches first, get Wealth, and Treasure heap,
　　Not difficult, if thou hearken to me,
　　Riches are mine, Fortune is in my hand;
　　They whom I favour thrive in wealth amain, 430
　　While Virtue, Valour, Wisdom sit in want.
　　To whom thus Jesus patiently reply'd;
　　Yet Wealth without these three is impotent,
　　To gain dominion or to keep it gain'd.
　　Witness those antient Empires of the Earth,
　　In highth of all thir flowing wealth dissolv'd:
　　But men endu'd with these have oft attain'd
　　In lowest poverty to highest deeds;
　　Gideon and Jephtha, and the Shepherd lad,
　　Whose off-spring on the Throne of Juda sat 440
　　So many Ages, and shall yet regain
　　That seat, and reign in Israel without end.
　　Among the Heathen, (for throughout the World
　　To me is not unknown what hath been done
　　Worthy of Memorial) canst thou not remember
　　Quintius, Fabricius, Curius, Regulus ?
　　For I esteem those names of men so poor
　　Who could do mighty things, and could contemn
　　Riches though offer'd from the hand of Kings.
　　And what in me seems wanting, but that I 450
　　May also in this poverty as soon
　　Accomplish what they did, perhaps and more?
　　Extol not Riches then, the toyl of Fools
　　The wise mans cumbrance if not snare, more apt
　　To slacken Virtue, and abate her edge,
　　Then prompt her to do aught may merit praise.
　　What if with like aversion I reject
　　Riches and Realms; yet not for that a Crown,
　　Golden in shew, is but a wreath of thorns,
　　Brings dangers, troubles, cares, and sleepless nights 460
　　To him who wears the Regal Diadem,
　　When on his shoulders each mans burden lies;
　　For therein stands the office of a King,
　　His Honour, Vertue, Merit and chief Praise,
　　That for the Publick all this weight he bears.
　　Yet he who reigns within himself, and rules
　　Passions, Desires, and Fears, is more a King;
　　Which every wise and vertuous man attains:
　　And who attains not, ill aspires to rule
　　Cities of men, or head-strong Multitudes, 470
　　Subject himself to Anarchy within,
　　Or lawless passions in him which he serves.
　　But to guide Nations in the way of truth
　　By saving Doctrine, and from errour lead
　　To know, and knowing worship God aright,
　　Is yet more Kingly, this attracts the Soul,
　　Governs the inner man, the nobler part,
　　That other o're the body only reigns,
　　And oft by force, which to a generous mind
　　So reigning can be no sincere delight. 480
　　Besides to give a Kingdom hath been thought
　　Greater and nobler done, and to lay down
　　Far more magnanimous, then to assume.
　　Riches are needless then, both for themselves,
　　And for thy reason why they should be sought,
　　To gain a Scepter, oftest better miss't.
　　
　　Note: 309 he] here 1695.
　　
　　The End of the Second Book.
　　
　　
　　
　　The Third Book.
　　
　　
　　So spake the Son of God, and Satan stood
　　A while as mute confounded what to say,
　　What to reply, confuted and convinc't
　　Of his weak arguing, and fallacious drift;
　　At length collecting all his Serpent wiles,
　　With soothing words renew'd, him thus accosts.
　　I see thou know'st what is of use to know,
　　What best to say canst say, to do canst do;
　　Thy actions to thy words accord, thy words
　　To thy large heart give utterance due, thy heart 10
　　Conteins of good, wise, just, the perfect shape.
　　Should Kings and Nations from thy mouth consult,
　　Thy Counsel would be as the Oracle
　　Urim and Thummin, those oraculous gems
　　On Aaron's breast: or tongue of Seers old
　　Infallible; or wert thou sought to deeds
　　That might require th' array of war, thy skill
　　Of conduct would be such, that all the world
　　Could not sustain thy Prowess, or subsist
　　In battel, though against thy few in arms. 20
　　These God-like Vertues wherefore dost thou hide?
　　Affecting private life, or more obscure
　　In savage Wilderness, wherefore deprive
　　All Earth her wonder at thy acts, thy self
　　The fame and glory, glory the reward
　　That sole excites to high attempts the flame
　　Of most erected Spirits, most temper'd pure
　　Aetherial, who all pleasures else despise,
　　All treasures and all gain esteem as dross,
　　And dignities and powers all but the highest? 30
　　Thy years are ripe, and over-ripe, the Son
　　Of Macedonian Philip had e're these
　　Won Asia and the Throne of Cyrus held
　　At his dispose, young Scipio had brought down
　　The Carthaginian pride, young Pompey quell'd
　　The Pontic King and in triumph had rode.
　　Yet years, and to ripe years judgment mature,
　　Quench not the thirst of glory, but augment.
　　Great Julius, whom now all the world admires,
　　The more he grew in years, the more inflam'd 40
　　With glory, wept that he had liv'd so long
　　Inglorious: but thou yet art not too late.
　　To whom our Saviour calmly thus reply'd.
　　Thou neither dost perswade me to seek wealth
　　For Empires sake, nor Empire to affect
　　For glories sake by all thy argument.
　　For what is glory but the blaze of fame,
　　The peoples praise, if always praise unmixt?
　　And what the people but a herd confus'd,
　　A miscellaneous rabble, who extol 50
　　Things vulgar, & well weigh'd, scarce worth the praise,
　　They praise and they admire they know not what;
　　And know not whom, but as one leads the other;
　　And what delight to be by such extoll'd,
　　To live upon thir tongues and be thir talk,
　　Of whom to be disprais'd were no small praise?
　　His lot who dares be singularly good.
　　Th' intelligent among them and the wise
　　Are few; and glory scarce of few is rais'd.
　　This is true glory and renown, when God 60
　　Looking on the Earth, with approbation marks
　　The just man, and divulges him through Heaven
　　To all his Angels, who with true applause
　　Recount his praises; thus he did to Job,
　　When to extend his fame through Heaven & Earth,
　　As thou to thy reproach mayst well remember,
　　He ask'd thee, hast thou seen my servant Job?
　　Famous he was in Heaven, on Earth less known;
　　Where glory is false glory, attributed
　　To things not glorious, men not worthy of fame. 70
　　They err who count it glorious to subdue
　　By Conquest far and wide, to over-run
　　Large Countries, and in field great Battels win,
　　Great Cities by assault: what do these Worthies,
　　But rob and spoil, burn, slaughter, and enslave
　　Peaceable Nations, neighbouring, or remote,
　　Made Captive, yet deserving freedom more
　　Then those thir Conquerours, who leave behind
　　Nothing but ruin wheresoe're they rove,
　　And all the flourishing works of peace destroy, 80
　　Then swell with pride, and must be titl'd Gods,
　　Great Benefactors of mankind, Deliverers,
　　Worship't with Temple, Priest and Sacrifice;
　　One is the Son of Jove, of Mars the other,
　　Till Conquerour Death discover them scarce men,
　　Rowling in brutish vices, and deform'd,
　　Violent or shameful death thir due reward.
　　But if there be in glory aught of good,
　　It may by means far different be attain'd
　　Without ambition, war, or violence; 90
　　By deeds of peace, by wisdom eminent,
　　By patience, temperance; I mention still
　　Him whom thy wrongs with Saintly patience born,
　　Made famous in a Land and times obscure;
　　Who names not now with honour patient Job?
　　Poor Socrates (who next more memorable?)
　　By what he taught and suffer'd for so doing,
　　For truths sake suffering death unjust, lives now
　　Equal in fame to proudest Conquerours.
　　Yet if for fame and glory aught be done, 100
　　Aught suffer'd; if young African for fame
　　His wasted Country freed from Punic rage,
　　The deed becomes unprais'd, the man at least,
　　And loses, though but verbal, his reward.
　　Shall I seek glory then, as vain men seek
　　Oft not deserv'd? I seek not mine, but his
　　Who sent me, and thereby witness whence I am.
　　To whom the Tempter murmuring thus reply'd.
　　Think not so slight of glory; therein least,
　　Resembling thy great Father: he seeks glory, 110
　　And for his glory all things made, all things
　　Orders and governs, nor content in Heaven
　　By all his Angels glorifi'd, requires
　　Glory from men, from all men good or bad,
　　Wise or unwise, no difference, no exemption;
　　Above all Sacrifice, or hallow'd gift
　　Glory he requires, and glory he receives
　　Promiscuous from all Nations, Jew, or Greek,
　　Or Barbarous, nor exception hath declar'd;
　　>From us his foes pronounc't glory he exacts. 120
　　To whom our Saviour fervently reply'd.
　　And reason; since his word all things produc'd,
　　Though chiefly not for glory as prime end,
　　But to shew forth his goodness, and impart
　　His good communicable to every soul
　　Freely; of whom what could he less expect
　　Then glory and benediction, that is thanks,
　　The slightest, easiest, readiest recompence
　　>From them who could return him nothing else,
　　And not returning that would likeliest render 130
　　Contempt instead, dishonour, obloquy?
　　Hard recompence, unsutable return
　　For so much good, so much beneficence.
　　But why should man seek glory? who of his own
　　Hath nothing, and to whom nothing belongs
　　But condemnation, ignominy, and shame?
　　Who for so many benefits receiv'd
　　Turn'd recreant to God, ingrate and false,
　　And so of all true good himself despoil'd,
　　Yet, sacrilegious, to himself would take 140
　　That which to God alone of right belongs;
　　Yet so much bounty is in God, such grace,
　　That who advance his glory, not thir own,
　　Them he himself to glory will advance.
　　So spake the Son of God; and here again
　　Satan had not to answer, but stood struck
　　With guilt of his own sin, for he himself
　　Insatiable of glory had lost all,
　　Yet of another Plea bethought him soon.
　　Of glory as thou wilt, said he, so deem, 150
　　Worth or not worth the seeking, let it pass:
　　But to a Kingdom thou art born, ordain'd
　　To sit upon thy Father David's Throne;
　　By Mother's side thy Father, though thy right
　　Be now in powerful hands, that will not part
　　Easily from possession won with arms;
　　Judaea now and all the promis'd land
　　Reduc't a Province under Roman yoke,
　　Obeys Tiberius; nor is always rul'd
　　With temperate sway; oft have they violated 160
　　The Temple, oft the Law with foul affronts,
　　Abominations rather, as did once
　　Antiochus: and think'st thou to regain
　　Thy right by sitting still or thus retiring?
　　So did not Machabeus: he indeed
　　Retir'd unto the Desert, but with arms;
　　And o're a mighty King so oft prevail'd,
　　That by strong hand his Family obtain'd,
　　Though Priests, the Crown, and David's Throne usurp'd,
　　With Modin and her Suburbs once content. 170
　　If Kingdom move thee not, let move thee Zeal,
　　And Duty; Zeal and Duty are not slow;
　　But on Occasions forelock watchful wait.
　　They themselves rather are occasion best,
　　Zeal of thy Fathers house, Duty to free
　　Thy Country from her Heathen servitude;
　　So shalt thou best fullfil, best verifie
　　The Prophets old, who sung thy endless raign,
　　The happier raign the sooner it begins,
　　Raign then; what canst thou better do the while? 180
　　To whom our saviour answer thus return'd.
　　All things are best fullfil'd in thir due time,
　　And time there is for all things, Truth hath said:
　　If of my raign Prophetic Writ hath told
　　That it shall never end, so when begin
　　The Father in his purpose hath decreed,
　　He in whose hand all times and seasons roul.
　　What if he hath decreed that I shall first
　　Be try'd in humble state, and things adverse,
　　By tribulations, injuries, insults, 190
　　Contempts, and scorns, and snares, and violence,
　　Suffering, abstaining, quietly expecting
　　Without distrust or doubt, that he may know
　　What I can suffer, how obey? who best
　　Can suffer, best can do; best reign, who first
　　Well hath obey'd; just tryal e're I merit
　　My exaltation without change or end.
　　But what concerns it thee when I begin
　　My everlasting Kingdom, why art thou
　　Sollicitous, what moves thy inquisition? 200
　　Know'st thou not that my rising is thy fall,
　　And my promotion will be thy destruction?
　　To whom the Tempter inly rackt reply'd.
　　Let that come when it comes; all hope is lost
　　Of my reception into grace; what worse?
　　For where no hope is left, is left no fear;
　　If there be worse, the expectation more
　　Of worse torments me then the feeling can.
　　I would be at the worst; worst is my Port.
　　My harbour and my ultimate repose, 210
　　The end I would attain, my final good.
　　My error was my error, and my crime
　　My crime; whatever for it self condemn'd
　　And will alike be punish'd; whether thou
　　Raign or raign not; though to that gentle brow
　　Willingly I could flye, and hope thy raign,
　　>From that placid aspect and meek regard,
　　Rather then aggravate my evil state,
　　Would stand between me and thy Fathers ire,
　　(Whose ire I dread more then the fire of Hell,) 220
　　A shelter and a kind of shading cool
　　Interposition, as a summers cloud.
　　If I then to the worst that can be hast,
　　Why move thy feet so slow to what is best,
　　Happiest both to thy self and all the world,
　　That thou who worthiest art should'st be thir King?
　　Perhaps thou linger'st in deep thoughts detain d
　　Of the enterprize so hazardous and high;
　　No wonder, for though in thee be united
　　What of perfection can in man be found, 230
　　Or human nature can receive, consider
　　Thy life hath yet been private, most part spent
　　At home, scarce view'd the Gallilean Towns
　　And once a year Jerusalem, few days
　　Short sojourn; and what thence could'st thou observe?
　　The world thou hast not seen, much less her glory,
　　Empires, and Monarchs, and thir radiant Courts
　　Best school of best experience, quickest in sight
　　In all things that to greatest actions lead.
　　The wisest, unexperienc't, will be ever 240
　　Timorous and loth, with novice modesty,
　　(As he who seeking Asses found a Kingdom)
　　Irresolute, unhardy, unadventrous:
　　But I will bring thee where thou soon shalt quit
　　Those rudiments, and see before thine eyes
　　The Monarchies of the Earth, thir pomp and state,
　　Sufficient introduction to inform
　　Thee, of thy self so apt, in regal Arts,
　　And regal Mysteries; that thou may'st know
　　How best their opposition to withstand. 250
　　With that (such power was giv'n him then) he took
　　The Son of God up to a Mountain high.
　　It was a Mountain at whose verdant feet
　　A spatious plain out strech't in circuit wide
　　Lay pleasant; from his side two rivers flow'd,
　　Th' one winding, the other strait and left between
　　Fair Champain with less rivers interveind,
　　Then meeting joyn'd thir tribute to the Sea:
　　Fertil of corn the glebe, of oyl and wine,
　　With herds the pastures throng'd, with flocks the hills, 260
　　Huge Cities and high towr'd, that well might seem
　　The seats of mightiest Monarchs, and so large
　　The Prospect was, that here and there was room
　　For barren desert fountainless and dry.
　　To this high mountain top the Tempter brought
　　Our Saviour, and new train of words began.
　　Well have we speeded, and o're hill and dale,
　　Forest and field, and flood, Temples and Towers
　　Cut shorter many a league; here thou behold'st
　　Assyria and her Empires antient bounds, 270
　　Araxes and the Caspian lake, thence on
　　As far as Indus East, Euphrates West,
　　And oft beyond; to South the Persian Bay,
　　And inaccessible the Arabian drouth:
　　Here Ninevee, of length within her wall
　　Several days journey, built by Ninus old,
　　Of that first golden Monarchy the seat,
　　And seat of Salmanassar, whose success
　　Israel in long captivity still mourns;
　　There Babylon the wonder of all tongues, 280
　　As antient, but rebuilt by him who twice
　　Judah and all thy Father David's house
　　Led captive, and Jerusalem laid waste,
　　Till Cyrus set them free; Persepolis
　　His City there thou seest, and Bactra there;
　　Ecbatana her structure vast there shews,
　　And Hecatompylos her hunderd gates,
　　There Susa by Choaspes, amber stream,
　　The drink of none but Kings; of later fame
　　Built by Emathian, or by Parthian hands, 290
　　The great Seleucia, Nisibis, and there
　　Artaxata, Teredon, Tesiphon,
　　Turning with easie eye thou may'st behold.
　　All these the Parthian, now some Ages past,
　　By great Arsaces led, who founded first
　　That Empire, under his dominion holds
　　>From the luxurious Kings of Antioch won.
　　And just in time thou com'st to have a view
　　Of his great power; for now the Parthian King
　　In Ctesiphon hath gather'd all his Host 300
　　Against the Scythian, whose incursions wild
　　Have wasted Sogdiana; to her aid
　　He marches now in hast; see, though from far,
　　His thousands, in what martial equipage
　　They issue forth, Steel Bows, and Shafts their arms
　　Of equal dread in flight, or in pursuit;
　　All Horsemen, in which fight they most excel;
　　See how in warlike muster they appear,
　　In Rhombs and wedges, and half moons, and wings.
　　He look't and saw what numbers numberless 310
　　The City gates out powr'd, light armed Troops
　　In coats of Mail and military pride;
　　In Mail thir horses clad, yet fleet and strong,
　　Prauncing their riders bore, the flower and choice
　　Of many Provinces from bound to bound;
　　>From Arachosia, from Candaor East,
　　And Margiana to the Hyrcanian cliffs
　　Of Caucasus, and dark Iberian dales,
　　>From Atropatia and the neighbouring plains
　　Of Adiabene, Media, and the South 320
　　Of Susiana to Balsara's hav'n.
　　He saw them in thir forms of battell rang'd,
　　How quick they wheel'd, and flying behind them shot
　　Sharp sleet of arrowie showers against the face
　　Of thir pursuers, and overcame by flight;
　　The field all iron cast a gleaming brown,
　　Nor wanted clouds of foot, nor on each horn,
　　Cuirassiers all in steel for standing fight;
　　Chariots or Elephants endorst with Towers
　　Of Archers, nor of labouring Pioners 330
　　A multitude with Spades and Axes arm'd
　　To lay hills plain, fell woods, or valleys fill,
　　Or where plain was raise hill, or over-lay
　　With bridges rivers proud, as with a yoke;
　　Mules after these, Camels and Dromedaries,
　　And Waggons fraught with Utensils of war.
　　Such forces met not, nor so wide a camp,
　　When Agrican with all his Northern powers
　　Besieg'd Albracca, as Romances tell;
　　The City of Gallaphrone, from thence to win 340
　　The fairest of her Sex Angelica
　　His daughter, sought by many Prowest Knights,
　　Both Paynim, and the Peers of Charlemane.
　　Such and so numerous was thir Chivalrie;
　　At sight whereof the Fiend yet more presum'd,
　　And to our Saviour thus his words renew'd.
　　That thou may'st know I seek not to engage
　　Thy Vertue, and not every way secure
　　On no slight grounds thy safety; hear, and mark
　　To what end I have brought thee hither and shewn 350
　　All this fair sight; thy Kingdom though foretold
　　By Prophet or by Angel, unless thou
　　Endeavour, as thy Father David did,
　　Thou never shalt obtain; prediction still
　　In all things, and all men, supposes means,
　　Without means us'd, what it predicts revokes.
　　But say thou wer't possess'd of David's Throne
　　By free consent of all, none opposite,
　　Samaritan or Jew; how could'st thou hope
　　Long to enjoy it quiet and secure, 360
　　Between two such enclosing enemies
　　Roman and Parthian? therefore one of these
　　Thou must make sure thy own, the Parthian first
　　By my advice, as nearer and of late
　　Found able by invasion to annoy
　　Thy country, and captive lead away her Kings
　　Antigonus, and old Hyrcanus bound,
　　Maugre the Roman: it shall be my task
　　To render thee the Parthian at dispose;
　　Chuse which thou wilt by conquest or by league 370
　　By him thou shalt regain, without him not,
　　That which alone can truly reinstall thee
　　In David's royal seat, his true Successour,
　　Deliverance of thy brethren, those ten Tribes
　　Whose off-spring in his Territory yet serve
　　In Habor, and among the Medes dispers't,
　　Ten Sons of Jacob, two of Joseph lost
　　Thus long from Israel; serving as of old
　　Thir Fathers in the land of Egypt serv'd,
　　This offer sets before thee to deliver. 380
　　These if from servitude thou shalt restore
　　To thir inheritance, then, nor till then,
　　Thou on the Throne of David in full glory,
　　>From Egypt to Euphrates and beyond
　　Shalt raign, and Rome or Caesar not need fear.
　　To whom our Saviour answer'd thus unmov'd.
　　Much ostentation vain of fleshly arm,
　　And fragile arms, much instrument of war
　　Long in preparing, soon to nothing brought,
　　Before mine eyes thou hast set; and in my ear 390
　　Vented much policy, and projects deep
　　Of enemies, of aids, battels and leagues,
　　Plausible to the world, to me worth naught.
　　Means I must use thou say'st, prediction else
　　Will unpredict and fail me of the Throne:
　　My time I told thee, (and that time for thee
　　Were better farthest off) is not yet come;
　　When that comes think not thou to find me slack
　　On my part aught endeavouring, or to need
　　Thy politic maxims, or that cumbersome 400
　　Luggage of war there shewn me, argument
　　Of human weakness rather then of strength.
　　My brethren, as thou call'st them; those Ten Tribes
　　I must deliver, if I mean to raign
　　David's true heir, and his full Scepter sway
　　To just extent over all Israel's Sons;
　　But whence to thee this zeal, where was it then
　　For Israel or for David, or his Throne,
　　When thou stood'st up his Tempter to the pride
　　Of numbring Israel which cost the lives 410
　　Of threescore and ten thousand Israelites
　　By three days Pestilence? such was thy zeal
　　To Israel then, the same that now to me.
　　As for those captive Tribes, themselves were they
　　Who wrought their own captivity, fell off
　　>From God to worship Calves, the Deities
　　Of Egypt, Baal next and Ashtaroth,
　　And all the Idolatries of Heathen round,
　　Besides thir other worse then heathenish crimes;
　　Nor in the land of their captivity 420
　　Humbled themselves, or penitent besought
　　The God of their fore-fathers; but so dy'd
　　Impenitent, and left a race behind
　　Like to themselves, distinguishable scarce
　　>From Gentils, but by Circumcision vain,
　　And God with Idols in their worship joyn'd.
　　Should I of these the liberty regard,
　　Who freed, as to their antient Patrimony,
　　Unhumbl'd, unrepentant, unreform'd,
　　Headlong would follow; and to thir Gods perhaps 430
　　Of Bethel and of Dan? no, let them serve
　　Thir enemies, who serve Idols with God.
　　Yet he at length, time to himself best known,
　　Remembring Abraham by some wond'rous call
　　May bring them back repentant and sincere,
　　And at their passing cleave the Assyrian flood,
　　While to their native land with joy they hast,
　　As the Red Sea and Jordan once he cleft,
　　When to the promis'd land thir Fathers pass'd;
　　To his due time and providence I leave them. 440
　　So spake Israel's true King, and to the Fiend
　　Made answer meet, that made void all his wiles.
　　So fares it when with truth falshood contends.
　　
　　The End of the Third Book.
　　
　　
　　
　　The Fourth Book.
　　
　　
　　PERPLEX'D and troubl'd at his bad success
　　The Tempter stood, nor had what to reply,
　　Discover'd in his fraud, thrown from his hope,
　　So oft, and the perswasive Rhetoric
　　That sleek't his tongue, and won so much on Eve,
　　So little here, nay lost; but Eve was Eve,
　　This far his over-match, who self deceiv'd
　　And rash, before-hand had no better weigh'd
　　The strength he was to cope with, or his own:
　　But as a man who had been matchless held 10
　　In cunning, over-reach't where least he thought,
　　To salve his credit, and for very spight
　　Still will be tempting him who foyls him still,
　　And never cease, though to his shame the more;
　　Or as a swarm of flies in vintage time,
　　About the wine-press where sweet moust is powr'd,
　　Beat off; returns as oft with humming sound;
　　Or surging waves against a solid rock,
　　Though all to shivers dash't, the assault renew,
　　Vain battry, and in froth or bubbles end: 20
　　So Satan, whom repulse upon repulse
　　Met ever; and to shameful silence brought,
　　Yet gives not o're though desperate of success,
　　And his vain importunity pursues.
　　He brought our Saviour to the western side
　　Of that high mountain, whence he might behold
　　Another plain, long but in bredth not wide;
　　Wash'd by the Southern Sea, and on the North
　　To equal length back'd with a ridge of hills
　　That screen'd the fruits of the earth and seats of men 30
　　>From cold Septentrion blasts, thence in the midst
　　Divided by a river, of whose banks
　　On each side an Imperial City stood,
　　With Towers and Temples proudly elevate
　　On seven small Hills, with Palaces adorn'd,
　　Porches and Theatres, Baths, Aqueducts,
　　Statues and Trophees, and Triumphal Arcs,
　　Gardens and Groves presented to his eyes,
　　Above the highth of Mountains interpos'd.
　　By what strange Parallax or Optic skill 40
　　Of vision multiplyed through air or glass
　　Of Telescope, were curious to enquire:
　　And now the Tempter thus his silence broke.
　　The City which thou seest no other deem
　　Then great and glorious Rome, Queen of the Earth
　　So far renown'd, and with the spoils enricht
　　Of Nations; there the Capitol thou seest
　　Above the rest lifting his stately head
　　On the Tarpeian rock, her Cittadel
　　Impregnable, and there Mount Palatine 50
　　The Imperial Palace, compass huge, and high
　　The Structure, skill of noblest Architects,
　　With gilded battlements, conspicuous far,
　　Turrets and Terrases, and glittering Spires.
　　Many a fair Edifice besides, more like
　　Houses of Gods (so well I have dispos'd
　　My Aerie Microscope) thou may'st behold
　　Outside and inside both, pillars and roofs
　　Carv'd work, the hand of fam'd Artificers
　　In Cedar, Marble, Ivory or Gold. 60
　　Thence to the gates cast round thine eye, and see
　　What conflux issuing forth, or entring in,
　　Pretors, Proconsuls to thir Provinces
　　Hasting or on return, in robes of State;
　　Lictors and rods the ensigns of thir power,
　　Legions and Cohorts, turmes of horse and wings:
　　Or Embassies from Regions far remote
　　In various habits on the Appian road,
　　Or on the Aemilian, some from farthest South,
　　Syene, and where the shadow both way falls, 70
　　Meroe, Nilotic Isle, and more to West,
　　The Realm of Bocchus to the Black-moor Sea;
　　>From the Asian Kings and Parthian among these,
　　>From India 'and the golden Chersoness,
　　And utmost Indian Isle Taprobane,
　　Dusk faces with white silken Turbants wreath'd:
　　>From Gallia, Gades, and the Brittish West,
　　Germans and Scythians, and Sarmatians North
　　Beyond Danubius to the Tauric Pool.
　　All Nations now to Rome obedience pay, 80
　　To Rome's great Emperour, whose wide domain
　　In ample Territory, wealth and power,
　　Civility of Manners, Arts, and Arms,
　　And long Renown thou justly may'st prefer
　　Before the Parthian; these two Thrones except,
　　The rest are barbarous, and scarce worth the sight,
　　Shar'd among petty Kings too far remov'd;
　　These having shewn thee, I have shewn thee all
　　The Kingdoms of the world, and all thir glory.
　　This Emperour hath no Son, and now is old, 90
　　Old, and lascivious, and from Rome retir'd
　　To Capreae an Island small but strong
　　On the Campanian shore, with purpose there
　　His horrid lusts in private to enjoy,
　　Committing to a wicked Favourite
　　All publick cares, and yet of him suspicious,
　　Hated of all, and hating; with what ease
　　Indu'd with Regal Vertues as thou art,
　　Appearing, and beginning noble deeds,
　　Might'st thou expel this monster from his Throne 100
　　Now made a stye, and in his place ascending
　　A victor people free from servile yoke?
　　And with my help thou may'st; to me the power
　　Is given, and by that right I give it thee.
　　Aim therefore at no less then all the world,
　　Aim at the highest, without the highest attain'd
　　Will be for thee no sitting, or not long
　　On Davids Throne, be propheci'd what will,
　　To whom the Son of God unmov'd reply'd.
　　Nor doth this grandeur and majestic show 110
　　Of luxury, though call'd magnificence,
　　More then of alms before, allure mine eye,
　　Much less my mind; though thou should'st add to tell
　　Thir sumptuous gluttonies, and gorgeous feasts
　　On Cittron tables or Atlantic stone;
　　(For I have also heard, perhaps have read)
　　Their wines of Setia, Cales, and Falerne,
　　Chios and Creet, and how they quaff in Gold,
　　Crystal and Myrrhine cups imboss'd with Gems
　　And studs of Pearl, to me should'st tell who thirst 120
　　And hunger still: then Embassies thou shew'st
　　>From Nations far and nigh; what honour that,
　　But tedious wast of time to sit and hear
　　So many hollow complements and lies,
　　Outlandish flatteries? then proceed'st to talk
　　Of the Emperour, how easily subdu'd,
　　How gloriously; I shall, thou say'st, expel
　　A brutish monster: what if I withal
　　Expel a Devil who first made him such?
　　Let his tormenter Conscience find him out, 130
　　For him I was not sent, nor yet to free
　　That people victor once, now vile and base,
　　Deservedly made vassal, who once just,
　　Frugal, and mild, and temperate, conquer'd well,
　　But govern ill the Nations under yoke,
　　Peeling thir Provinces, exhausted all
　　By lust and rapine; first ambitious grown
　　Of triumph that insulting vanity;
　　Then cruel, by thir sports to blood enur'd
　　Of fighting beasts, and men to beasts expos'd, 140
　　Luxurious by thir wealth, and greedier still,
　　And from the daily Scene effeminate.
　　What wise and valiant man would seek to free
　　These thus degenerate, by themselves enslav'd,
　　Or could of inward slaves make outward free?
　　Know therefore when my season comes to sit
　　On David's Throne, it shall be like a tree
　　Spreading and over-shadowing all the Earth,
　　Or as a stone that shall to pieces dash
　　All Monarchies besides throughout the world, 150
　　And of my Kingdom there shall be no end:
　　Means there shall be to this, but what the means,
　　Is not for thee to know, nor me to tell.
　　To whom the Tempter impudent repli'd.
　　I see all offers made by me how slight
　　Thou valu'st, because offer'd, and reject'st:
　　Nothing will please the difficult and nice,
　　Or nothing more then still to contradict:
　　On the other side know also thou, that I
　　On what I offer set as high esteem, 160
　　Nor what I part with mean to give for naught;
　　All these which in a moment thou behold'st,
　　The Kingdoms of the world to thee I give;
　　For giv'n to me, I give to whom I please,
　　No trifle; yet with this reserve, not else,
　　On this condition, if thou wilt fall down,
　　And worship me as thy superior Lord,
　　Easily done, and hold them all of me;
　　For what can less so great a gift deserve?
　　Whom thus our Saviour answer'd with disdain. 170
　　I never lik'd thy talk, thy offers less,
　　Now both abhor, since thou hast dar'd to utter
　　The abominable terms, impious condition;
　　But I endure the time, till which expir'd,
　　Thou hast permission on me. It is written
　　The first of all Commandments, Thou shalt worship
　　The Lord thy God, and only him shalt serve;
　　And dar'st thou to the Son of God propound
　　To worship thee accurst, now more accurst
　　For this attempt bolder then that on Eve, 180
　　And more blasphemous? which expect to rue.
　　The Kingdoms of the world to thee were giv'n,
　　Permitted rather, and by thee usurp't,
　　Other donation none thou canst produce:
　　If given, by whom but by the King of Kings,
　　God over all supreme? if giv'n to thee,
　　By thee how fairly is the Giver now
　　Repaid? But gratitude in thee is lost
　　Long since. Wert thou so void of fear or shame,
　　As offer them to me the Son of God, 190
　　To me my own, on such abhorred pact,
　　That I fall down and worship thee as God?
　　Get thee behind me; plain thou now appear'st
　　That Evil one, Satan for ever damn'd.
　　To whom the Fiend with fear abasht reply'd.
　　Be not so sore offended, Son of God;
　　Though Sons of God both Angels are and Men,
　　If I to try whether in higher sort
　　Then these thou bear'st that title, have propos'd
　　What both from Men and Angels I receive, 200
　　Tetrarchs of fire, air, flood, and on the earth
　　Nations besides from all the quarter'd winds,
　　God of this world invok't and world beneath;
　　Who then thou art, whose coming is foretold
　　To me so fatal, me it most concerns.
　　The tryal hath indamag'd thee no way,
　　Rather more honour left and more esteem;
　　Me naught advantag'd, missing what I aim'd.
　　Therefore let pass, as they are transitory,
　　The Kingdoms of this world; I shall no more 210
　　Advise thee, gain them as thou canst, or not.
　　And thou thy self seem'st otherwise inclin'd
　　Then to a worldly Crown, addicted more
　　To contemplation and profound dispute,
　　As by that early action may be judg'd,
　　When slipping from thy Mothers eye thou went'st
　　Alone into the Temple; there was found
　　Among the gravest Rabbies disputant
　　On points and questions fitting Moses Chair,
　　Teaching not taught; the childhood shews the man, 220
　　As morning shews the day. Be famous then
　　By wisdom; as thy Empire must extend,
　　So let extend thy mind o're all the world,
　　In knowledge, all things in it comprehend,
　　All knowledge is not couch't in Moses Law,
　　The Pentateuch or what the Prophets wrote,
　　The Gentiles also know, and write, and teach
　　To admiration, led by Natures light;
　　And with the Gentiles much thou must converse,
　　Ruling them by perswasion as thou mean'st, 230
　　Without thir learning how wilt thou with them,
　　Or they with thee hold conversation meet?
　　How wilt thou reason with them, how refute
　　Thir Idolisms, Traditions, Paradoxes?
　　Error by his own arms is best evinc't.
　　Look once more e're we leave this specular Mount
　　Westward, much nearer by Southwest, behold
　　Where on the Aegean shore a City stands
　　Built nobly, pure the air, and light the soil,
　　Athens the eye of Greece, Mother of Arts 240
　　And Eloquence, native to famous wits
　　Or hospitable, in her sweet recess,
　　City or Suburban, studious walks and shades;
　　See there the Olive Grove of Academe,
　　Plato's retirement, where the Attic Bird
　　Trills her thick-warbl'd notes the summer long,
　　There flowrie hill Hymettus with the sound
　　Of Bees industrious murmur oft invites
　　To studious musing; there Ilissus rouls
　　His whispering stream; within the walls then view 250
　　The schools of antient Sages; his who bred
　　Great Alexander to subdue the world,
　　Lyceum there, and painted Stoa next:
　　There thou shalt hear and learn the secret power
　　Of harmony in tones and numbers hit
　　By voice or hand, and various-measur'd verse,
　　Aeolian charms and Dorian Lyric Odes,
　　And his who gave them breath, but higher sung,
　　Blind Melesigenes thence Homer call'd,
　　Whose Poem Phoebus challeng'd for his own. 260
　　Thence what the lofty grave Tragoedians taught
　　In Chorus or Iambic, teachers best
　　Of moral prudence, with delight receiv'd
　　In brief sententious precepts, while they treat
　　Of fate, and chance, and change in human life;
　　High actions, and high passions best describing;
　　Thence to the famous Orators repair,
　　Those antient, whose resistless eloquence
　　Wielded at will that fierce Democratie,
　　Shook the Arsenal and fulmin'd over Greece, 270
　　To Macedon, and Artaxerxes Throne;
　　To sage Philosophy next lend thine ear,
　　>From Heaven descended to the low-rooft house
　　Of Socrates, see there his Tenement,
　　Whom well inspir'd the Oracle pronounc'd
　　Wisest of men; from whose mouth issu'd forth
　　Mellifluous streams that water'd all the schools
　　Of Academics old and new, with those
　　Sirnam'd Peripatetics, and the Sect
　　Epicurean, and the Stoic severe; 280
　　These here revolve, or, as thou lik'st, at home,
　　Till time mature thee to a Kingdom's waight;
　　These rules will render thee a King compleat
　　Within thy self, much more with Empire joyn'd.
　　To whom our Saviour sagely thus repli'd.
　　Think not but that I know these things, or think
　　I know them not; not therefore am I short
　　Of knowing what I aught: he who receives
　　Light from above, from the fountain of light,
　　No other doctrine needs, though granted true; 290
　　But these are false, or little else but dreams,
　　Conjectures, fancies, built on nothing firm.
　　The first and wisest of them all profess'd
　　To know this only, that he nothing knew;
　　The next to fabling fell and smooth conceits,
　　A third sort doubted all things, though plain sence;
　　Others in vertue plac'd felicity,
　　But vertue joyn'd with riches and long life,
　　In corporal pleasure he, and careless ease,
　　The Stoic last in Philosophic pride, 300
　　By him call'd vertue; and his vertuous man,
　　Wise, perfect in himself, and all possessing
　　Equal to God, oft shames not to prefer,
　　As fearing God nor man, contemning all
　　Wealth, pleasure, pain or torment, death and life,
　　Which when he lists, he leaves, or boasts he can,
　　For all his tedious talk is but vain boast,
　　Or subtle shifts conviction to evade.
　　Alas what can they teach, and not mislead;
　　Ignorant of themselves, of God much more, 310
　　And how the world began, and how man fell
　　Degraded by himself, on grace depending?
　　Much of the Soul they talk, but all awrie,
　　And in themselves seek vertue, and to themselves
　　All glory arrogate, to God give none,
　　Rather accuse him under usual names,
　　Fortune and Fate, as one regardless quite
　　Of mortal things. Who therefore seeks in these
　　True wisdom, finds her not, or by delusion
　　Far worse, her false resemblance only meets, 320
　　An empty cloud. However many books
　　Wise men have said are wearisom; who reads
　　Incessantly, and to his reading brings not
　　A spirit and judgment equal or superior,
　　(And what he brings, what needs he elsewhere seek)
　　Uncertain and unsettl'd still remains
　　Deep verst in books and shallow in himself;
　　Crude or intoxicate, collecting toys,
　　And trifles for choice matters, worth a spunge;
　　As Children gathering pibles on the shore. 330
　　Or if I would delight my private hours
　　With Music or with Poem, where so soon
　　As in our native Language can I find
　　That solace? All our Law and Story strew'd
　　With Hymns, our Psalms with artful terms inscrib'd,
　　Our Hebrew Songs and Harps in Babylon,
　　That pleas'd so well our Victors ear, declare
　　That rather Greece from us these Arts deriv'd;
　　Ill imitated, while they loudest sing
　　The vices of thir Deities, and thir own 340
　　In Fable, Hymn, or Song, so personating
　　Thir Gods ridiculous, and themselves past shame.
　　Remove their swelling Epithetes thick laid
　　As varnish on a Harlots cheek, the rest,
　　Thin sown with aught of profit or delight,
　　Will far be found unworthy to compare
　　With Sion's songs, to all true tasts excelling,
　　Where God is prais'd aright, and Godlike men,
　　The Holiest of Holies, and his Saints;
　　Such are from God inspir'd, not such from thee; 350
　　Unless where moral vertue is express't
　　By light of Nature not in all quite lost.
　　Thir Orators thou then extoll'st, as those
　　The top of Eloquence, Statists indeed,
　　And lovers of thir Country, as may seem;
　　But herein to our Prophets far beneath,
　　As men divinely taught, and better teaching
　　The solid rules of Civil Government
　　In thir majestic unaffected stile
　　Then all the Oratory of Greece and Rome. 360
　　In them is plainest taught, and easiest learnt,
　　What makes a Nation happy, and keeps it so,
　　What ruins Kingdoms, and lays Cities flat;
　　These only with our Law best form a King.
　　So spake the Son of God; but Satan now
　　Quite at a loss, for all his darts were spent,
　　Thus to our Saviour with stern brow reply'd.
　　Since neither wealth, nor honour, arms nor arts,
　　Kingdom nor Empire pleases thee, nor aught
　　By me propos'd in life contemplative,
　　Or active, tended on by glory, or fame, 370
　　What dost thou in this World? the Wilderness
　　For thee is fittest place, I found thee there,
　　And thither will return thee, yet remember
　　What I foretell thee, soon thou shalt have cause
　　To wish thou never hadst rejected thus
　　Nicely or cautiously my offer'd aid,
　　Which would have set thee in short time with ease
　　On David's Throne; or Throne of all the world,
　　Now at full age, fulness of time, thy season, 380
　　When Prophesies of thee are best fullfill'd.
　　Now contrary, if I read aught in Heaven,
　　Or Heav'n write aught of Fate, by what the Stars
　　Voluminous, or single characters,
　　In thir conjunction met, give me to spell,
　　Sorrows, and labours, Opposition, bate,
　　Attends thee, scorns, reproaches, injuries,
　　Violence and stripes, and lastly cruel death,
　　A Kingdom they portend thee, but what Kingdom,
　　Real or Allegoric I discern not, 390
　　Nor when, eternal sure, as without end,
　　Without beginning; for no date prefixt
　　Directs me in the Starry Rubric set.
　　So saying he took (for still he knew his power
　　Not yet expir'd) and to the Wilderness
　　Brought back the Son of God, and left him there,
　　Feigning to disappear. Darkness now rose,
　　As day-light sunk, and brought in lowring night
　　Her shadowy off-spring unsubstantial both,
　　Privation meer of light and absent day. 400
　　Our Saviour meek and with untroubl'd mind
　　After his aerie jaunt, though hurried sore,
　　Hungry and cold betook him to his rest,
　　Wherever, under some concourse of shades
　　Whose branching arms thick intertwind might shield
　　>From dews and damps of night his shelter'd head,
　　But shelter'd slept in vain, for at his head
　　The Tempter watch'd, and soon with ugly dreams
　　Disturb'd his sleep; and either Tropic now
　　'Gan thunder, and both ends of Heav'n, the Clouds 410
　　>From many a horrid rift abortive pour'd
　　Fierce rain with lightning mixt, water with fire
　　In ruine reconcil'd: nor slept the winds
　　Within thir stony caves, but rush'd abroad
　　>From the four hinges of the world, and fell
　　On the vext Wilderness, whose tallest Pines,
　　Though rooted deep as high, and sturdiest Oaks
　　Bow'd thir Stiff necks, loaden with stormy blasts,
　　Or torn up sheer: ill wast thou shrouded then,
　　O patient Son of God, yet only stoodst 420
　　Unshaken; nor yet staid the terror there,
　　Infernal Ghosts, and Hellish Furies, round
　　Environ'd thee, some howl'd, some yell'd, some shriek'd,
　　Some bent at thee thir fiery darts, while thou
　　Sat'st unappall'd in calm and sinless peace.
　　Thus pass'd the night so foul till morning fair
　　Came forth with Pilgrim steps in amice gray;
　　Who with her radiant finger still'd the roar
　　Of thunder, chas'd the clouds, and laid the winds,
　　And grisly Spectres, which the Fiend had rais'd 430
　　To tempt the Son of God with terrors dire.
　　And now the Sun with more effectual beams
　　Had chear'd the face of Earth, and dry'd the wet
　　>From drooping plant, or dropping tree; the birds
　　Who all things now behold more fresh and green,
　　After a night of storm so ruinous,
　　Clear'd up their choicest notes in bush and spray
　　To gratulate the sweet return of morn;
　　Nor yet amidst this joy and brightest morn
　　Was absent, after all his mischief done, 440
　　The Prince of darkness, glad would also seem
　　Of this fair change, and to our Saviour came,
　　Yet with no new device, they all were spent,
　　Rather by this his last affront resolv'd,
　　Desperate of better course, to vent his rage,
　　And mad despight to be so oft repell'd.
　　Him walking on a Sunny hill he found,
　　Back'd on the North and West by a thick wood,
　　Out of the wood he starts in wonted shape;
　　And in a careless mood thus to him said. 450
　　Fair morning yet betides thee Son of God,
　　After a dismal night; I heard the rack
　　As Earth and Skie would mingle; but my self
　　Was distant; and these flaws, though mortals fear them
　　As dangerous to the pillard frame of Heaven,
　　Or to the Earths dark basis underneath,
　　Are to the main as inconsiderable,
　　And harmless, if not wholsom, as a sneeze
　　To mans less universe, and soon are gone;
　　Yet as being oft times noxious where they light 460
　　On man, beast, plant, wastful and turbulent,
　　Like turbulencies in the affairs of men,
　　Over whose heads they rore, and seem to point,
　　They oft fore-signifie and threaten ill:
　　This Tempest at this Desert most was bent;
　　Of men at thee, for only thou here dwell'st.
　　Did I not tell thee, if thou didst reject
　　The perfet season offer'd with my aid
　　To win thy destin'd seat, but wilt prolong
　　All to the push of Fate, persue thy way 470
　　Of gaining David's Throne no man knows when,
　　For both the when and how is no where told,
　　Thou shalt be what thou art ordain'd, no doubt;
　　For Angels have proclaim'd it, but concealing
　　The time and means: each act is rightliest done,
　　Not when it must, but when it may be best.
　　If thou observe not this, be sure to find,
　　What I foretold thee, many a hard assay
　　Of dangers, and adversities and pains,
　　E're thou of Israel's Scepter get fast hold; 480
　　Whereof this ominous night that clos'd thee round,
　　So many terrors, voices, prodigies
　　May warn thee, as a sure fore-going sign.
　　So talk'd he, while the Son of God went on
　　And staid not, but in brief him answer'd thus.
　　Mee worse then wet thou find'st not; other harm
　　Those terrors which thou speak'st of did me none;
　　I never fear'd they could, though noising loud
　　And threatning nigh; what they can do as signs
　　Betok'ning, or ill boding, I contemn 490
　　As false portents, not sent from God, but thee;
　　Who knowing I shall raign past thy preventing.
　　Obtrud'st thy offer'd aid, that I accepting
　　At least might seem to hold all power of thee,
　　Ambitious spirit, and wouldst be thought my God,
　　And storm'st refus'd, thinking to terrifie
　　Mee to thy will; desist, thou art discern'd
　　And toil'st in vain, nor me in vain molest.
　　To whom the Fiend now swoln with rage reply'd:
　　Then hear, O Son of David, Virgin-born; 500
　　For Son of God to me is yet in doubt,
　　Of the Messiah I have heard foretold
　　By all the Prophets; of thy birth at length
　　Announc't by Gabriel with the first I knew,
　　And of the Angelic Song in Bethlehem field,
　　On thy birth-night, that sung thee Saviour born.
　　>From that time seldom have I ceas'd to eye
　　Thy infancy, thy childhood, and thy youth,
　　Thy manhood last, though yet in private bred;
　　Till at the Ford of Jordan whither all 510
　　Flock'd to the Baptist, I among the rest,
　　Though not to be Baptiz'd, by voice from Heav'n
　　Heard thee pronounc'd the Son of God belov'd.
　　Thenceforth I thought thee worth my nearer view
　　And narrower Scrutiny, that I might learn
　　In what degree or meaning thou art call'd
　　The Son of God, which bears no single sence;
　　The Son of God I also am, or was,
　　And if I was, I am; relation stands;
　　All men are Sons of God; yet thee I thought 520
　　In some respect far higher so declar'd.
　　Therefore I watch'd thy footsteps from that hour,
　　And follow'd thee still on to this wast wild;
　　Where by all best conjectures I collect
　　Thou art to be my fatal enemy.
　　Good reason then, if I before-hand seek
　　To understand my Adversary, who
　　And what he is; his wisdom, power, intent,
　　By parl, or composition, truce, or league
　　To win him, or win from him what I can. 530
　　And opportunity I here have had
　　To try thee, sift thee, and confess have found thee
　　Proof against all temptation as a rock
　　Of Adamant, and as a Center, firm
　　To the utmost of meer man both wise and good,
　　Not more; for Honours, Riches, Kingdoms, Glory
　　Have been before contemn'd, and may agen:
　　Therefore to know what more thou art then man,
　　Worth naming Son of God by voice from Heav'n,
　　Another method I must now begin. 540
　　So saying he caught him up, and without wing
　　Of Hippogrif bore through the Air sublime
　　Over the Wilderness and o're the Plain;
　　Till underneath them fair Jerusalem,
　　The holy City lifted high her Towers,
　　And higher yet the glorious Temple rear'd
　　Her pile, far off appearing like a Mount
　　Of Alabaster, top't with golden Spires:
　　There on the highest Pinacle he set
　　The Son of God; and added thus in scorn: 550
　　There stand, if thou wilt stand; to stand upright
　　Will ask thee skill; I to thy Fathers house
　　Have brought thee, and highest plac't, highest is best,
　　Now shew thy Progeny; if not to stand,
　　Cast thy self down; safely if Son of God:
　　For it is written, He will give command
　　Concerning thee to his Angels, in thir hands
　　They shall up lift thee, lest at any time
　　Thou chance to dash thy foot against a stone.
　　To whom thus Jesus: also it is written, 560
　　Tempt not the Lord thy God, he said and stood.
　　But Satan smitten with amazement fell
　　As when Earths Son Antaeus (to compare
　　Small things with greatest) in Irassa strove
　　With Joves Alcides and oft foil'd still rose,
　　Receiving from his mother Earth new strength,
　　Fresh from his fall, and fiercer grapple joyn'd,
　　Throttl'd at length in the Air, expir'd and fell;
　　So after many a foil the Tempter proud,
　　Renewing fresh assaults, amidst his pride 570
　　Fell whence he stood to see his Victor fall.
　　And as that Theban Monster that propos'd
　　Her riddle, and him, who solv'd it not, devour'd;
　　That once found out and solv'd, for grief and spight
　　Cast her self headlong from th' Ismenian steep,
　　So strook with dread and anguish fell the Fiend,
　　And to his crew, that sat consulting, brought
　　Joyless triumphals of his hop't success,
　　Ruin, and desperation, and dismay,
　　Who durst so proudly tempt the Son of God. 580
　　So Satan fell and strait a fiery Globe
　　Of Angels on full sail of wing flew nigh,
　　Who on their plumy Vans receiv'd him soft
　　>From his uneasie station, and upbore
　　As on a floating couch through the blithe Air,
　　Then in a flowry valley set him down
　　On a green bank, and set before him spred
　　A table of Celestial Food, Divine,
　　Ambrosial, Fruits fetcht from the tree of life,
　　And from the fount of life Ambrosial drink, 590
　　That soon refresh'd him wearied, and repair'd
　　What hunger, if aught hunger had impair'd,
　　Or thirst, and as he fed, Angelic Quires
　　Sung Heavenly Anthems of his victory
　　Over temptation, and the Tempter proud.
　　True Image of the Father whether thron'd
　　In the bosom of bliss, and light of light
　　Conceiving, or remote from Heaven, enshrin'd
　　In fleshly Tabernacle, and human form,
　　Wandring the Wilderness, whatever place, 600
　　Habit, or state, or motion, still expressing
　　The Son of God, with Godlike force indu'd
　　Against th' Attempter of thy Fathers Throne,
　　And Thief of Paradise; him long of old
　　Thou didst debel, and down from Heav'n cast
　　With all his Army, now thou hast aveng'd
　　Supplanted Adam, and by vanquishing
　　Temptation, hast regain'd lost Paradise,
　　And frustrated the conquest fraudulent:
　　He never more henceforth will dare set foot 610
　　In Paradise to tempt; his snares are broke:
　　For though that seat of earthly bliss be fail'd,
　　A fairer Paradise is founded now
　　For Adam and his chosen Sons, whom thou
　　A Saviour art come down to re-install.
　　Where they shall dwell secure, when time shall be
　　Of Tempter and Temptation without fear.
　　But thou, Infernal Serpent, shalt not long
　　Rule in the Clouds; like an Autumnal Star
　　Or Lightning thou shalt fall from Heav'n trod down 620
　　Under his feet: for proof, e're this thou feel'st
　　Thy wound, yet not thy last and deadliest wound
　　By this repulse receiv'd, and hold'st in Hell
　　No triumph; in all her gates Abaddon rues
　　Thy bold attempt; hereafter learn with awe
　　To dread the Son of God: he all unarm'd
　　Shall chase thee with the terror of his voice
　　>From thy Demoniac holds, possession foul,
　　Thee and thy Legions, yelling they shall flye,
　　And beg to hide them in a herd of Swine, 630
　　Lest he command them down into the deep
　　Bound, and to torment sent before thir time.
　　Hail Son of the most High, heir of both worlds,
　　Queller of Satan, on thy glorious work
　　Now enter, and begin to save mankind.
　　Thus they the Son of God our Saviour meek
　　Sling Victor, and from Heavenly Feast refresht
　　Brought on his way with joy; hee unobserv'd
　　Home to his Mothers house private return'd.
　　
　　The End.
　　Transcriber's Note: Title page of first edition of Samson Agonistes
　　follows:
　　
　　
　　 SAMSON
　　 AGONISTES,
　　 A
　　 DRAMATIC POEM.
　　------------------------------------------------------------
　　 The Author
　　 JOHN MILTON
　　------------------------------------------------------------
　　 Aristot. Poet. Cap. 6.
　　 Tragedia mimeis praxeos spadaias, &c.
　　Tragedia est imitatio actionis seriae. &c. Per misericordiam &
　　 metum perficiens talium affectuum lustrationem.
　　------------------------------------------------------------
　　------------------------------------------------------------
　　 LONDON.
　　 Printed by J.M. for John Starkey at the
　　 Mitre in Fleetstreet, near Temple-Bar.
　　 MDCLXXI
　　
　　
　　
　　SAMSON AGONISTES
　　
　　
　　
　　Of that sort of Dramatic Poem which is call'd Tragedy.
　　
　　
　　TRAGEDY, as it was antiently compos'd, hath been ever held the
　　gravest, moralest, and most profitable of all other Poems:
　　therefore said by Aristotle to be of power by raising pity and fear,
　　or terror, to purge the mind of those and such like passions, that is
　　to temper and reduce them to just measure with a kind of delight,
　　stirr'd up by reading or seeing those passions well imitated. Nor is
　　Nature wanting in her own effects to make good his assertion: for
　　so in Physic things of melancholic hue and quality are us'd against
　　melancholy, sowr against sowr, salt to remove salt humours.
　　Hence Philosophers and other gravest Writers, as Cicero, Plutarch
　　and others, frequently cite out of Tragic Poets, both to adorn and
　　illustrate thir discourse. The Apostle Paul himself thought it not
　　unworthy to _insert_ a verse of Euripides into the Text of Holy
　　Scripture, I Cor. 15. 33. and Paraeus commenting on the
　　Revelation, divides the whole Book as a Tragedy, into Acts
　　distinguisht each by a Chorus of Heavenly Harpings and Song
　　between. Heretofore Men in highest dignity have labour'd not a
　　little to be thought able to compose a Tragedy. Of that honour
　　Dionysius the elder was no less ambitious, then before of his
　　attaining to the Tyranny. Augustus Caesar also had begun his
　　Ajax, but unable to please his own judgment with what he had
　　begun. left it unfinisht. Seneca the Philosopher is by some thought
　　the Author of those Tragedies (at lest the best of them) that go
　　under that name. Gregory Nazianzen a Father of the Church,
　　thought it not unbeseeming the sanctity of his person to write a
　　Tragedy which he entitl'd, Christ suffering. This is mention'd to
　　vindicate Tragedy from the small esteem, or rather infamy, which
　　in the account of many it undergoes at this day with other common
　　Interludes; hap'ning through the Poets error of intermixing Comic
　　stuff with Tragic sadness and gravity; or introducing trivial and
　　vulgar persons, which by all judicious hath bin counted absurd; and
　　brought in without discretion, corruptly to gratifie the people. And
　　though antient Tragedy use no Prologue, yet using sometimes, in
　　case of self defence, or explanation, that which Martial calls an
　　Epistle; in behalf of this Tragedy coming forth after the antient
　　manner, much different from what among us passes for best, thus
　　much before-hand may be Epistl'd; that Chorus is here introduc'd
　　after the Greek manner, not antient only but modern, and still in
　　use among the Italians. In the modelling therefore of this Poem
　　with good reason, the Antients and Italians are rather follow'd, as
　　of much more authority and fame. The measure of Verse us'd in
　　the Chorus is of all sorts, call'd by the Greeks Monostrophic, or
　　rather Apolelymenon, without regard had to Strophe, Antistrophe
　　or Epod, which were a kind of Stanza's fram'd only for the Music,
　　then us'd with the Chorus that sung; not essential to the Poem, and
　　therefore not material; or being divided into Stanza's or Pauses
　　they may be call'd Allaeostropha. Division into Act and Scene
　　referring chiefly to the Stage (to which this work never was
　　intended) is here omitted.
　　
　　 It suffices if the whole Drama be found not produc't beyond the
　　fift Act, of the style and uniformitie, and that commonly call'd the
　　Plot, whether intricate or explicit, which is nothing indeed but such
　　oeconomy, or disposition of the fable as may stand best with
　　verisimilitude and decorum; they only will best judge who are not
　　unacquainted with Aeschulus, Sophocles, and Euripides, the three
　　Tragic Poets unequall'd yet by any, and the best rule to all who
　　endeavour to write Tragedy. The circumscription of time wherein
　　the whole Drama begins and ends, is according to antient rule, and
　　best example, within the space of 24 hours.
　　
　　
　　
　　The ARGUMENT.
　　
　　
　　Samson made Captive, Blind, and now in the Prison at Gaza, there
　　to labour as in a common work-house, on a Festival day, in the
　　general cessation from labour, comes forth into the open Air, to a
　　place nigh, somewhat retir'd there to sit a while and bemoan his
　　condition. Where he happens at length to be visited by certain
　　friends and equals of his tribe, which make the Chorus, who seek
　　to comfort him what they can ; then by his old Father Manoa, who
　　endeavours the like, and withal tells him his purpose to procure his
　　liberty by ransom; lastly, that this Feast was proclaim'd by the
　　Philistins as a day of Thanksgiving for thir deliverance from the
　　hands of Samson, which yet more troubles him. Manoa then
　　departs to prosecute his endeavour with the Philistian Lords for
　　Samson's redemption; who in the mean while is visited by other
　　persons; and lastly by a publick Officer to require coming to the
　　Feast before the Lords and People, to play or shew his strength in
　　thir presence; he at first refuses, dismissing the publick officer with
　　absolute denyal to come; at length perswaded inwardly that this
　　was from God, he yields to go along with him, who came now the
　　second time with great threatnings to fetch him; the Chorus yet
　　remaining on the place, Manoa returns full of joyful hope, to
　　procure e're long his Sons deliverance: in the midst of which
　　discourse an Ebrew comes in haste confusedly at first; and
　　afterward more distinctly relating the Catastrophe, what Samson
　　had done to the Philistins, and by accident to himself; wherewith
　　the Tragedy ends.
　　
　　
　　The Persons
　　
　　Samson.
　　Manoa the father of Samson.
　　Dalila his wife.
　　Harapha of Gath.
　　Publick Officer.
　　Messenger.
　　Chorus of Danites
　　
　　
　　The Scene before the Prison in Gaza.
　　
　　Sam: A little onward lend thy guiding hand
　　To these dark steps, a little further on;
　　For yonder bank hath choice of Sun or shade,
　　There I am wont to sit, when any chance
　　Relieves me from my task of servile toyl,
　　Daily in the common Prison else enjoyn'd me,
　　Where I a Prisoner chain'd, scarce freely draw
　　The air imprison'd also, close and damp,
　　Unwholsom draught: but here I feel amends,
　　The breath of Heav'n fresh-blowing, pure and sweet, 10
　　With day-spring born; here leave me to respire.
　　This day a solemn Feast the people hold
　　To Dagon thir Sea-Idol, and forbid
　　Laborious works, unwillingly this rest
　　Thir Superstition yields me; hence with leave
　　Retiring from the popular noise, I seek
　　This unfrequented place to find some ease,
　　Ease to the body some, none to the mind
　　>From restless thoughts, that like a deadly swarm
　　Of Hornets arm'd, no sooner found alone, 20
　　But rush upon me thronging, and present
　　Times past, what once I was, and what am now.
　　O wherefore was my birth from Heaven foretold
　　Twice by an Angel, who at last in sight
　　Of both my Parents all in flames ascended
　　>From off the Altar, where an Off'ring burn'd,
　　As in a fiery column charioting
　　His Godlike presence, and from some great act
　　Or benefit reveal'd to Abraham's race?
　　Why was my breeding order'd and prescrib'd 30
　　As of a person separate to God,
　　Design'd for great exploits; if I must dye
　　Betray'd, Captiv'd, and both my Eyes put out,
　　Made of my Enemies the scorn and gaze;
　　To grind in Brazen Fetters under task
　　With this Heav'n-gifted strength? O glorious strength
　　Put to the labour of a Beast, debas't
　　Lower then bondslave! Promise was that I
　　Should Israel from Philistian yoke deliver;
　　Ask for this great Deliverer now, and find him 40
　　Eyeless in Gaza at the Mill with slaves,
　　Himself in bonds under Philistian yoke;
　　Yet stay, let me not rashly call in doubt
　　Divine Prediction; what if all foretold
　　Had been fulfilld but through mine own default,
　　Whom have I to complain of but my self?
　　Who this high gift of strength committed to me,
　　In what part lodg'd, how easily bereft me,
　　Under the Seal of silence could not keep,
　　But weakly to a woman must reveal it 50
　　O'recome with importunity and tears.
　　O impotence of mind, in body strong !
　　But what is strength without a double share
　　Of wisdom, vast, unwieldy, burdensom,
　　Proudly secure, yet liable to fall
　　By weakest suttleties, not made to rule,
　　But to subserve where wisdom bears command.
　　God, when he gave me strength, to shew withal
　　How slight the gift was, hung it in my Hair.
　　But peace, I must not quarrel with the will 60
　　Of highest dispensation, which herein
　　Happ'ly had ends above my reach to know:
　　Suffices that to me strength is my bane,
　　And proves the sourse of all my miseries;
　　So many, and so huge, that each apart
　　Would ask a life to wail, but chief of all,
　　O loss of sight, of thee I most complain!
　　Blind among enemies, O worse then chains,
　　Dungeon, or beggery, or decrepit age!
　　Light the prime work of God to me is extinct,
　　And all her various objects of delight
　　Annull'd, which might in part my grief have eas'd,
　　Inferiour to the vilest now become
　　Of man or worm; the vilest here excel me,
　　They creep, yet see, I dark in light expos'd
　　To daily fraud, contempt, abuse and wrong,
　　Within doors, or without, still as a fool,
　　In power of others, never in my own;
　　Scarce half I seem to live, dead more then half.
　　O dark, dark, dark, amid the blaze of noon, 80
　　Irrecoverably dark, total Eclipse
　　Without all hope of day!
　　O first created Beam, and thou great Word,
　　Let there be light, and light was over all;
　　Why am I thus bereav'd thy prime decree?
　　The Sun to me is dark
　　And silent as the Moon,
　　When she deserts the night
　　Hid in her vacant interlunar cave.
　　Since light so necessary is to life, 90
　　And almost life itself, if it be true
　　That light is in the Soul,
　　She all in every part; why was the sight
　　To such a tender ball as th' eye confin'd?
　　So obvious and so easie to be quench't,
　　And not as feeling through all parts diffus'd,
　　That she might look at will through every pore?
　　Then had I not been thus exil'd from light;
　　As in the land of darkness yet in light,
　　To live a life half dead, a living death, 100
　　And buried; but O yet more miserable!
　　My self, my Sepulcher, a moving Grave,
　　Buried, yet not exempt
　　By priviledge of death and burial
　　>From worst of other evils, pains and wrongs,
　　But made hereby obnoxious more
　　To all the miseries of life,
　　Life in captivity
　　Among inhuman foes.
　　But who are these? for with joint pace I hear 110
　　The tread of many feet stearing this way;
　　Perhaps my enemies who come to stare
　　At my affliction, and perhaps to insult,
　　Thir daily practice to afflict me more.
　　
　　Chor: This, this is he; softly a while,
　　Let us not break in upon him;
　　O change beyond report, thought, or belief!
　　See how he lies at random, carelessly diffus'd,
　　With languish't head unpropt,
　　As one past hope, abandon'd 120
　　And by himself given over;
　　In slavish habit, ill-fitted weeds
　　O're worn and soild;
　　Or do my eyes misrepresent? Can this be hee,
　　That Heroic, that Renown'd,
　　Irresistible Samson? whom unarm'd
　　No strength of man, or fiercest wild beast could withstand;
　　Who tore the Lion, as the Lion tears the Kid,
　　Ran on embattelld Armies clad in Iron,
　　And weaponless himself, 130
　　Made Arms ridiculous, useless the forgery
　　Of brazen shield and spear, the hammer'd Cuirass,
　　Chalybean temper'd steel, and frock of mail
　　Adamantean Proof;
　　But safest he who stood aloof,
　　When insupportably his foot advanc't,
　　In scorn of thir proud arms and warlike tools,
　　Spurn'd them to death by Troops. The bold Ascalonite
　　Fled from his Lion ramp, old Warriors turn'd
　　Thir plated backs under his heel; 140
　　Or grovling soild thir crested helmets in the dust.
　　Then with what trivial weapon came to Hand,
　　The Jaw of a dead Ass, his sword of bone,
　　A thousand fore-skins fell, the flower of Palestin
　　In Ramath-lechi famous to this day:
　　Then by main force pull'd up, and on his shoulders bore
　　The Gates of Azza, Post, and massie Bar
　　Up to the Hill by Hebron, seat of Giants old,
　　No journey of a Sabbath day, and loaded so;
　　Like whom the Gentiles feign to bear up Heav'n. 150
　　Which shall I first bewail,
　　Thy Bondage or lost Sight,
　　Prison within Prison
　　Inseparably dark?
　　Thou art become (O worst imprisonment!)
　　The Dungeon of thy self; thy Soul
　　 (Which Men enjoying sight oft without cause complain)
　　Imprison'd now indeed,
　　In real darkness of the body dwells,
　　Shut up from outward light 160
　　To incorporate with gloomy night;
　　For inward light alas
　　Puts forth no visual beam.
　　O mirror of our fickle state,
　　Since man on earth unparallel'd!
　　The rarer thy example stands,
　　By how much from the top of wondrous glory,
　　Strongest of mortal men,
　　To lowest pitch of abject fortune thou art fall'n.
　　For him I reckon not in high estate 170
　　Whom long descent of birth
　　Or the sphear of fortune raises;
　　But thee whose strength, while vertue was her mate
　　Might have subdu'd the Earth,
　　Universally crown'd with highest praises.
　　
　　Sam: I hear the sound of words, thir sense the air
　　Dissolves unjointed e're it reach my ear.
　　
　　Chor: Hee speaks, let us draw nigh. Matchless in might,
　　The glory late of Israel, now the grief;
　　We come thy friends and neighbours not unknown 180
　　>From Eshtaol and Zora's fruitful Vale
　　To visit or bewail thee, or if better,
　　Counsel or Consolation we may bring,
　　Salve to thy Sores, apt words have power to swage
　　The tumors of a troubl'd mind,
　　And are as Balm to fester'd wounds.
　　
　　Sam: Your coming, Friends, revives me, for I learn
　　Now of my own experience, not by talk,
　　How counterfeit a coin they are who friends
　　Bear in their Superscription (of the most 190
　　I would be understood) in prosperous days
　　They swarm, but in adverse withdraw their head
　　Not to be found, though sought. Wee see, O friends.
　　How many evils have enclos'd me round;
　　Yet that which was the worst now least afflicts me,
　　Blindness, for had I sight, confus'd with shame,
　　How could I once look up, or heave the head,
　　Who like a foolish Pilot have shipwrack't,
　　My Vessel trusted to me from above,
　　Gloriously rigg'd; and for a word, a tear, 200
　　Fool, have divulg'd the secret gift of God
　　To a deceitful Woman : tell me Friends,
　　Am I not sung and proverbd for a Fool
　　In every street, do they not say, how well
　　Are come upon him his deserts? yet why?
　　Immeasurable strength they might behold
　　In me, of wisdom nothing more then mean;
　　This with the other should, at least, have paird,
　　These two proportiond ill drove me transverse.
　　
　　Chor: Tax not divine disposal, wisest Men 210
　　Have err'd, and by bad Women been deceiv'd;
　　And shall again, pretend they ne're so wise.
　　Deject not then so overmuch thy self,
　　Who hast of sorrow thy full load besides;
　　Yet truth to say, I oft have heard men wonder
　　Why thou shouldst wed Philistian women rather
　　Then of thine own Tribe fairer, or as fair,
　　At least of thy own Nation, and as noble.
　　
　　Sam: The first I saw at Timna, and she pleas'd
　　Mee, not my Parents, that I sought to wed, 220
　　The daughter of an Infidel: they knew not
　　That what I motion'd was of God; I knew
　　>From intimate impulse, and therefore urg'd
　　The Marriage on; that by occasion hence
　　I might begin Israel's Deliverance,
　　The work to which I was divinely call'd;
　　She proving false, the next I took to Wife
　　(O that I never had ! fond wish too late)
　　Was in the Vale of Sorec, Dalila,
　　That specious Monster, my accomplisht snare. 230
　　I thought it lawful from my former act,
　　And the same end; still watching to oppress
　　Israel's oppressours: of what now I suffer
　　She was not the prime cause, but I my self,
　　Who vanquisht with a peal of words (O weakness!)
　　Gave up my fort of silence to a Woman.
　　
　　Chor: In seeking just occasion to provoke
　　The Philistine, thy Countries Enemy,
　　Thou never wast remiss, I hear thee witness:
　　Yet Israel still serves with all his Sons. 240
　　
　　Sam: That fault I take not on me, but transfer
　　On Israel's Governours, and Heads of Tribes,
　　Who seeing those great acts which God had done
　　Singly by me against their Conquerours
　　Acknowledg'd not, or not at all consider'd
　　Deliverance offerd : I on th' other side
　　Us'd no ambition to commend my deeds,
　　The deeds themselves, though mute, spoke loud the dooer;
　　But they persisted deaf, and would not seem
　　To count them things worth notice, till at length 250
　　Thir Lords the Philistines with gather'd powers
　　Enterd Judea seeking mee, who then
　　Safe to the rock of Etham was retir'd,
　　Not flying, but fore-casting in what place
　　To set upon them, what advantag'd best;
　　Mean while the men of Judah to prevent
　　The harrass of thir Land, beset me round;
　　I willingly on some conditions came
　　Into thir hands, and they as gladly yield me
　　To the uncircumcis'd a welcom prey, 260
　　Bound with two cords; but cords to me were threds
　　Toucht with the flame: on thir whole Host I flew
　　Unarm'd, and with a trivial weapon fell'd
　　Thir choicest youth; they only liv'd who fled.
　　Had Judah that day join'd, or one whole Tribe,
　　They had by this possess'd the Towers of Gath,
　　And lorded over them whom now they serve;
　　But what more oft in Nations grown corrupt,
　　And by thir vices brought to servitude,
　　Then to love Bondage more then Liberty, 270
　　Bondage with ease then strenuous liberty;
　　And to despise, or envy, or suspect
　　Whom God hath of his special favour rais'd
　　As thir Deliverer; if he aught begin,
　　How frequent to desert him, and at last
　　To heap ingratitude on worthiest deeds?
　　
　　Chor: Thy words to my remembrance bring
　　How Succoth and the Fort of Penuel
　　Thir great Deliverer contemn'd,
　　The matchless Gideon in pursuit 280
　　Of Madian and her vanquisht Kings;
　　And how ingrateful Ephraim
　　Not worse then by his shield and spear
　　Had dealt with Jephtha, who by argument,
　　Defended Israel from the Ammonite,
　　Had not his prowess quell'd thir pride
　　In that sore battel when so many dy'd
　　Without Reprieve adjudg'd to death,
　　For want of well pronouncing Shibboleth.
　　
　　Sam: Of such examples adde mee to the roul, 290
　　Mee easily indeed mine may neglect,
　　But Gods propos'd deliverance not so.
　　
　　Chor: Just are the ways of God,
　　And justifiable to Men;
　　Unless there be who think not God at all,
　　If any be, they walk obscure;
　　For of such Doctrine never was there School,
　　But the heart of the Fool,
　　And no man therein Doctor but himself.
　　Yet more there be who doubt his ways not just, 300
　　As to his own edicts, found contradicting,
　　Then give the rains to wandring thought,
　　Regardless of his glories diminution;
　　Till by thir own perplexities involv'd
　　They ravel more, still less resolv'd,
　　But never find self-satisfying solution.
　　As if they would confine th' interminable,
　　And tie him to his own prescript,
　　Who made our Laws to bind us, not himself,
　　And hath full right to exempt 310
　　Whom so it pleases him by choice
　　>From National obstriction, without taint
　　Of sin, or legal debt;
　　For with his own Laws he can best dispence.
　　He would not else who never wanted means,
　　Nor in respect of the enemy just cause
　　To set his people free,
　　Have prompted this Heroic Nazarite,
　　Against his vow of strictest purity,
　　To seek in marriage that fallacious Bride, 320
　　Unclean, unchaste.
　　Down Reason then, at least vain reasonings down,
　　Though Reason here aver
　　That moral verdit quits her of unclean :
　　Unchaste was subsequent, her stain not his.
　　But see here comes thy reverend Sire
　　With careful step, Locks white as doune,
　　Old Manoah: advise
　　Forthwith how thou oughtst to receive him.
　　
　　Sam: Ay me, another inward grief awak't, 330
　　With mention of that name renews th' assault.
　　
　　Man: Brethren and men of Dan, for such ye seem,
　　Though in this uncouth place; if old respect,
　　As I suppose, towards your once gloried friend,
　　My Son now Captive, hither hath inform'd
　　Your younger feet, while mine cast back with age
　　Came lagging after; say if he be here.
　　
　　Chor: As signal now in low dejected state,
　　As earst in highest; behold him where be lies.
　　
　　Man: O miserable change! is this the man, 340
　　That invincible Samson, far renown'd,
　　The dread of Israel's foes, who with a strength
　　Equivalent to Angels walk'd thir streets,
　　None offering fight; who single combatant
　　Duell'd thir Armies rank't in proud array,
　　Himself an Army, now unequal match
　　To save himself against a coward arm'd
　　At one spears length. O ever failing trust
　　In mortal strength! and oh what not in man
　　Deceivable and vain! Nay what thing good 350
　　Pray'd for, but often proves our woe, our bane?
　　I pray'd for Children, and thought barrenness
　　In wedlock a reproach; I gain'd a Son,
　　And such a Son as all Men hail'd me happy;
　　Who would be now a Father in my stead?
　　O wherefore did God grant me my request,
　　And as a blessing with such pomp adorn'd?
　　Why are his gifts desirable, to tempt
　　Our earnest Prayers, then giv'n with solemn hand
　　As Graces, draw a Scorpions tail behind? 360
　　For this did the Angel twice descend? for this
　　Ordain'd thy nurture holy, as of a Plant;
　　_Select_, and Sacred, Glorious for a while,
　　The miracle of men: then in an hour
　　Ensnar'd, assaulted, overcome, led bound,
　　Thy Foes derision, Captive, Poor, and Blind
　　Into a Dungeon thrust, to work with Slaves?
　　Alas methinks whom God hath chosen once
　　To worthiest deeds, if he through frailty err,
　　He should not so o'rewhelm, and as a thrall 370
　　Subject him to so foul indignities,
　　Be it but for honours sake of former deeds.
　　
　　Sam: Appoint not heavenly disposition, Father,
　　Nothing of all these evils hath befall'n me
　　But justly; I my self have brought them on,
　　Sole Author I, sole cause: if aught seem vile,
　　As vile hath been my folly, who have profan'd
　　The mystery of God giv'n me under pledge
　　Of vow, and have betray'd it to a woman,
　　A Canaanite, my faithless enemy. 380
　　This well I knew, nor was at all surpris'd,
　　But warn'd by oft experience: did not she
　　Of Timna first betray me, and reveal
　　The secret wrested from me in her highth
　　Of Nuptial Love profest, carrying it strait
　　To them who had corrupted her, my Spies,
　　And Rivals? In this other was there found
　　More Faith? who also in her prime of love,
　　Spousal embraces, vitiated with Gold,
　　Though offer'd only, by the sent conceiv'd 390
　　Her spurious first-born; Treason against me?
　　Thrice she assay'd with flattering prayers and sighs,
　　And amorous reproaches to win from me
　　My capital secret, in what part my strength
　　Lay stor'd in what part summ'd, that she might know:
　　Thrice I deluded her, and turn'd to sport
　　Her importunity, each time perceiving
　　How openly, and with what impudence
　　She purpos'd to betray me, and (which was worse
　　Then undissembl'd hate) with what contempt 400
　　She sought to make me Traytor to my self;
　　Yet the fourth time, when mustring all her wiles,
　　With blandisht parlies, feminine assaults,
　　Tongue-batteries, she surceas'd not day nor night
　　To storm me over-watch't, and wearied out.
　　At times when men seek most repose and rest,
　　I yielded, and unlock'd her all my heart,
　　Who with a grain of manhood well resolv'd
　　Might easily have shook off all her snares :
　　But foul effeminacy held me yok't 410
　　Her Bond-slave; O indignity, O blot
　　To Honour and Religion! servil mind
　　Rewarded well with servil punishment!
　　The base degree to which I now am fall'n,
　　These rags, this grinding, is not yet so base
　　As was my former servitude, ignoble,
　　Unmanly, ignominious, infamous,
　　True slavery, and that blindness worse then this,
　　That saw not how degeneratly I serv'd.
　　
　　Man: I cannot praise thy Marriage choises, Son, 420
　　Rather approv'd them not; but thou didst plead
　　Divine impulsion prompting how thou might'st
　　Find some occasion to infest our Foes.
　　I state not that; this I am sure; our Foes
　　Found soon occasion thereby to make thee
　　Thir Captive, and thir triumph; thou the sooner
　　Temptation found'st, or over-potent charms
　　To violate the sacred trust of silence
　　Deposited within thee; which to have kept
　　Tacit, was in thy power; true; and thou hear'st 430
　　Enough, and more the burden of that fault;
　　Bitterly hast thou paid, and still art paying
　　That rigid score. A worse thing yet remains,
　　This day the Philistines a popular Feast
　　Here celebrate in Gaza, and proclaim
　　Great Pomp, and Sacrifice, and Praises loud
　　To Dagon, as their God who hath deliver'd
　　Thee Samson bound and blind into thir hands,
　　Them out of thine, who slew'st them many a slain.
　　So Dagon shall be magnifi'd, and God, 440
　　Besides whom is no God, compar'd with Idols,
　　Disglorifi'd, blasphem'd, and had in scorn
　　By th' Idolatrous rout amidst thir wine;
　　Which to have come to pass by means of thee,
　　Samson, of all thy sufferings think the heaviest,
　　Of all reproach the most with shame that ever
　　Could have befall'n thee and thy Fathers house.
　　
　　Sam: Father, I do acknowledge and confess
　　That I this honour, I this pomp have brought
　　To Dagon, and advanc'd his praises high 450
　　Among the Heathen round; to God have brought
　　Dishonour, obloquie, and op't the mouths
　　Of Idolists, and Atheists; have brought scandal
　　To Israel diffidence of God, and doubt
　　In feeble hearts, propense anough before
　　To waver, or fall off and joyn with Idols:
　　Which is my chief affliction, shame and sorrow,
　　The anguish of my Soul, that suffers not
　　Mine eie to harbour sleep, or thoughts to rest.
　　This only hope relieves me, that the strife 460
　　With me hath end; all the contest is now
　　'Twixt God and Dagon; Dagon hath presum'd,
　　Me overthrown, to enter lists with God,
　　His Deity comparing and preferring
　　Before the God of Abraham. He, he sure,
　　Will not connive, or linger, thus provok'd,
　　But will arise and his great name assert:
　　Dagon must stoop, and shall e're long receive
　　Such a discomfit, as shall quite despoil him
　　Of all these boasted Trophies won on me, 470
　　And with confusion blank his Worshippers.
　　
　　Man: With cause this hope relieves thee, and these words
　　I as a Prophecy receive: for God,
　　Nothing more certain, will not long defer
　　To vindicate the glory of his name
　　Against all competition, nor will long
　　Endure it, doubtful whether God be Lord,
　　Or Dagon. But for thee what shall be done?
　　Thou must not in the mean while here forgot
　　Lie in this miserable loathsom plight 480
　　Neglected. I already have made way
　　To some Philistian Lords, with whom to treat
　　About thy ransom: well they may by this
　　Have satisfi'd thir utmost of revenge
　　By pains and slaveries, worse then death inflicted
　　On thee, who now no more canst do them harm.
　　
　　Sam: Spare that proposal, Father, spare the trouble
　　Of that sollicitation; let me here,
　　As I deserve, pay on my punishment;
　　And expiate, if possible, my crime, 490
　　Shameful garrulity. To have reveal'd
　　Secrets of men, the secrets of a friend,
　　How hainous had the fact been, how deserving
　　Contempt, and scorn of all, to be excluded
　　All friendship, and avoided as a blab,
　　The mark of fool set on his front?
　　But I Gods counsel have not kept, his holy secret
　　Presumptuously have publish'd, impiously,
　　Weakly at least, and shamefully: A sin
　　That Gentiles in thir Parables condemn 500
　　To thir abyss and horrid pains confin'd.
　　
　　Man: Be penitent and for thy fault contrite,
　　But act not in thy own affliction, Son,
　　Repent the sin, but if the punishment
　　Thou canst avoid, selfpreservation bids;
　　Or th' execution leave to high disposal,
　　And let another hand, not thine, exact
　　Thy penal forfeit from thy self; perhaps
　　God will relent, and quit thee all his debt;
　　Who evermore approves and more accepts 510
　　(Best pleas'd with humble and filial submission)
　　Him who imploring mercy sues for life,
　　Then who selfrigorous chooses death as due;
　　Which argues overjust, and self-displeas'd
　　For self-offence, more then for God offended.
　　Reject not then what offerd means, who knows
　　But God hath set before us, to return thee
　　Home to thy countrey and his sacred house,
　　Where thou mayst bring thy off'rings, to avert
　　His further ire, with praiers and vows renew'd. 520
　　
　　Sam: His pardon I implore; but as for life,
　　To what end should I seek it? when in strength
　　All mortals I excell'd, and great in hopes
　　With youthful courage and magnanimous thoughts
　　Of birth from Heav'n foretold and high exploits,
　　Full of divine instinct, after some proof
　　Of acts indeed heroic, far beyond
　　The Sons of Anac, famous now and blaz'd,
　　Fearless of danger, like a petty God
　　I walk'd about admir'd of all and dreaded 530
　　On hostile ground, none daring my affront.
　　Then swoll'n with pride into the snare I fell
　　Of fair fallacious looks, venereal trains,
　　Softn'd with pleasure and voluptuous life;
　　At length to lay my head and hallow'd pledge
　　Of all my strength in the lascivious lap
　　Of a deceitful Concubine who shore me
　　Like a tame Weather, all my precious fleece,
　　Then turn'd me out ridiculous, despoil'd,
　　Shav'n, and disarm'd among my enemies. 540
　　
　　Chor. Desire of wine and all delicious drinks,
　　Which many a famous Warriour overturns,
　　Thou couldst repress, nor did the dancing Rubie
　　Sparkling; out-pow'rd, the flavor, or the smell,
　　Or taste that cheers the heart of Gods and men,
　　Allure thee from the cool Crystalline stream.
　　
　　Sam. Where ever fountain or fresh current flow'd
　　Against the Eastern ray, translucent, pure,
　　With touch aetherial of Heav'ns fiery rod
　　I drank, from the clear milkie juice allaying 550
　　Thirst, and refresht; nor envy'd them the grape
　　Whose heads that turbulent liquor fills with fumes.
　　
　　Chor. O madness, to think use of strongest wines
　　And strongest drinks our chief support of health,
　　When God with these forbid'n made choice to rear
　　His mighty Champion, strong above compare,
　　Whose drink was only from the liquid brook.
　　
　　 Sam. But what avail'd this temperance, not compleat
　　Against another object more enticing?
　　What boots it at one gate to make defence, 560
　　And at another to let in the foe
　　Effeminatly vanquish't? by which means,
　　Now blind, disheartn'd, sham'd, dishonour'd, quell'd,
　　To what can I be useful, wherein serve
　　My Nation, and the work from Heav'n impos'd,
　　But to sit idle on the houshold hearth,
　　A burdenous drone; to visitants a gaze,
　　Or pitied object, these redundant locks
　　Robustious to no purpose clustring down,
　　Vain monument of strength; till length of years 570
　　And sedentary numness craze my limbs
　　To a contemptible old age obscure.
　　Here rather let me drudge and earn my bread,
　　Till vermin or the draff of servil food
　　Consume me, and oft-invocated death
　　Hast'n the welcom end of all my pains.
　　
　　Man. Wilt thou then serve the Philistines with that gift
　　Which was expresly giv'n thee to annoy them?
　　Better at home lie bed-rid, not only idle,
　　Inglorious, unimploy'd, with age out-worn. 580
　　But God who caus'd a fountain at thy prayer
　　>From the dry ground to spring, thy thirst to allay
　　After the brunt of battel, can as easie
　　Cause light again within thy eies to spring,
　　Wherewith to serve him better then thou hast;
　　And I perswade me so; why else this strength
　　Miraculous yet remaining in those locks?
　　His might continues in thee not for naught,
　　Nor shall his wondrous gifts be frustrate thus.
　　
　　Sam: All otherwise to me my thoughts portend, 590
　　That these dark orbs no more shall treat with light,
　　Nor th' other light of life continue long,
　　But yield to double darkness nigh at hand:
　　So much I feel my genial spirits droop,
　　My hopes all flat, nature within me seems
　　In all her functions weary of herself;
　　My race of glory run, and race of shame,
　　And I shall shortly be with them that rest.
　　
　　Man. Believe not these suggestions which proceed
　　>From anguish of the mind and humours black, 600
　　That mingle with thy fancy. I however
　　Must not omit a Fathers timely care
　　To prosecute the means of thy deliverance
　　By ransom or how else: mean while be calm,
　　And healing words from these thy friends admit.
　　
　　Sam. O that torment should not be confin'd
　　To the bodies wounds and sores
　　With maladies innumerable
　　In heart, head, brest, and reins;
　　But must secret passage find 610
　　To th' inmost mind,
　　There exercise all his fierce accidents,
　　And on her purest spirits prey,
　　As on entrails, joints, and limbs,
　　With answerable pains, but more intense,
　　'Though void of corporal sense.
　　My griefs not only pain me
　　As a lingring disease,
　　But finding no redress, ferment and rage,
　　Nor less then wounds immedicable 620
　　Ranckle, and fester, and gangrene,
　　To black mortification.
　　Thoughts my Tormenters arm'd with deadly stings
　　Mangle my apprehensive tenderest parts,
　　Exasperate, exulcerate, and raise
　　Dire inflammation which no cooling herb
　　Or rnedcinal liquor can asswage,
　　Nor breath of Vernal Air from snowy Alp.
　　Sleep hath forsook and giv'n me o're
　　To deaths benumming Opium as my only cure. 630
　　Thence faintings, swounings of despair,
　　And sense of Heav'ns desertion.
　　I was his nursling once and choice delight,
　　His destin'd from the womb,
　　Promisd by Heavenly message twice descending.
　　Under his special eie
　　Abstemious I grew up and thriv'd amain;
　　He led me on to mightiest deeds
　　Above the nerve of mortal arm
　　Against the uncircumcis'd, our enemies. 640
　　But now hath cast me off as never known,
　　And to those cruel enemies,
　　Whom I by his appointment had provok't,
　　Left me all helpless with th' irreparable loss
　　Of sight, reserv'd alive to be repeated
　　The subject of thir cruelty, or scorn.
　　Nor am I in the list of them that hope;
　　Hopeless are all my evils, all remediless;
　　This one prayer yet remains, might I be heard,
　　No long petition, speedy death, 650
　　The close of all my miseries, and the balm.
　　
　　Chor: Many are the sayings of the wise
　　In antient and in modern books enroll'd;
　　Extolling Patience as the truest fortitude;
　　And to the bearing well of all calamities,
　　All chances incident to mans frail life
　　Consolatories writ
　　With studied argument, and much perswasion sought
　　Lenient of grief and anxious thought,
　　But with th' afflicted in his pangs thir sound 680
　　Little prevails, or rather seems a tune,
　　Harsh, and of dissonant mood from his complaint,
　　Unless he feel within
　　Some sourse of consolation from above;
　　Secret refreshings, that repair his strength,
　　And fainting spirits uphold.
　　God of our Fathers, what is man!
　　That thou towards him with hand so various,
　　Or might I say contrarious,
　　Temperst thy providence through his short course, 670
　　Not evenly, as thou rul'st
　　The Angelic orders and inferiour creatures mute,
　　Irrational and brute.
　　Nor do I name of men the common rout,
　　That wandring loose about
　　Grow up and perish, as the summer flie,
　　Heads without name no more rememberd,
　　But such as thou hast solemnly elected,
　　With gifts and graces eminently adorn'd
　　To some great work, thy glory, 680
　　And peoples safety, which in part they effect:
　　Yet toward these thus dignifi'd, thou oft
　　Amidst thir highth of noon,
　　Changest thy countenance, and thy hand with no regard
　　Of highest favours past
　　>From thee on them, or them to thee of service.
　　Nor only dost degrade them, or remit
　　To life obscur'd, which were a fair dismission,
　　But throw'st them lower then thou didst exalt them high,
　　Unseemly falls in human eie, 690
　　Too grievous for the trespass or omission,
　　Oft leav'st them to the hostile sword
　　Of Heathen and prophane, thir carkasses
　　To dogs and fowls a prey, or else captiv'd:
　　Or to the unjust tribunals, under change of times,
　　And condemnation of the ingrateful multitude.
　　If these they scape, perhaps in poverty
　　With sickness and disease thou bow'st them down,
　　Painful diseases and deform'd, 700
　　In crude old age;
　　Though not disordinate, yet causless suffring
　　The punishment of dissolute days, in fine,
　　Just or unjust, alike seem miserable,
　　For oft alike, both come to evil end.
　　So deal not with this once thy glorious Champion,
　　The Image of thy strength, and mighty minister.
　　What do I beg? how hast thou dealt already?
　　Behold him in this state calamitous, and turn
　　His labours, for thou canst, to peaceful end.
　　But who is this, what thing of Sea or Land? 710
　　Femal of sex it seems,
　　That so bedeckt, ornate, and gay,
　　Comes this way sailing
　　Like a stately Ship
　　Of Tarsus, bound for th' Isles
　　Of Javan or Gadier
　　With all her bravery on, and tackle trim,
　　Sails fill'd, and streamers waving,
　　Courted by all the winds that hold them play,
　　An Amber sent of odorous perfume 720
　　Her harbinger, a damsel train behind;
　　Some rich Philistian Matron she may seem,
　　And now at nearer view, no other certain
　　Than Dalila thy wife.
　　
　　Sam: My Wife, my Traytress, let her not come near me.
　　
　　Cho: Yet on she moves, now stands & eies thee fixt,
　　About t'have spoke, but now, with head declin'd
　　Like a fair flower surcharg'd with dew, she weeps
　　And words addrest seem into tears dissolv'd,
　　Wetting the borders of her silk'n veil: 730
　　But now again she makes address to speak.
　　
　　Dal: With doubtful feet and wavering resolution
　　I came, still dreading thy displeasure, Samson,
　　Which to have merited, without excuse,
　　I cannot but acknowledge; yet if tears
　　May expiate (though the fact more evil drew
　　In the perverse event then I foresaw)
　　My penance hath not slack'n'd, though my pardon
　　No way assur'd. But conjugal affection
　　Prevailing over fear, and timerous doubt 740
　　Hath led me on desirous to behold
　　Once more thy face, and know of thy estate.
　　If aught in my ability may serve
　　To light'n what thou suffer'st, and appease
　　Thy mind with what amends is in my power,
　　Though late, yet in some part to recompense
　　My rash but more unfortunate misdeed.
　　
　　Sam: Out, out Hyaena; these are thy wonted arts,
　　And arts of every woman false like thee,
　　To break all faith, all vows, deceive, betray, 750
　　Then as repentant to submit, beseech,
　　And reconcilement move with feign'd remorse,
　　Confess, and promise wonders in her change,
　　Not truly penitent, but chief to try
　　Her husband, how far urg'd his patience bears,
　　His vertue or weakness which way to assail:
　　Then with more cautious and instructed skill
　　Again transgresses, and again submits;
　　That wisest and best men full oft beguil'd
　　With goodness principl'd not to reject 760
　　The penitent, but ever to forgive,
　　Are drawn to wear out miserable days,
　　Entangl'd with a poysnous bosom snake,
　　If not by quick destruction soon cut off
　　As I by thee, to Ages an example.
　　
　　Dal: Yet hear me Samson; not that I endeavour
　　To lessen or extenuate my offence,
　　But that on th' other side if it be weigh'd
　　By it self, with aggravations not surcharg'd,
　　Or else with just allowance counterpois'd 770
　　I may, if possible, thy pardon find
　　The easier towards me, or thy hatred less.
　　First granting, as I do, it was a weakness
　　In me, but incident to all our sex,
　　Curiosity, inquisitive, importune
　　Of secrets, then with like infirmity
　　To publish them, both common female faults:
　　Was it not weakness also to make known
　　For importunity, that is for naught,
　　Wherein consisted all thy strength and safety? 780
　　To what I did thou shewdst me first the way.
　　But I to enemies reveal'd, and should not.
　　Nor shouldst thou have trusted that to womans frailty
　　E're I to thee, thou to thy self wast cruel.
　　Let weakness then with weakness come to parl
　　So near related, or the same of kind,
　　Thine forgive mine; that men may censure thine
　　The gentler, if severely thou exact not
　　More strength from me, then in thy self was found.
　　And what if Love, which thou interpret'st hate, 790
　　The jealousie of Love, powerful of sway
　　In human hearts, nor less in mine towards thee,
　　Caus'd what I did? I saw thee mutable
　　Of fancy, feard lest one day thou wouldst leave me
　　As her at Timna, sought by all means therefore
　　How to endear, and hold thee to me firmest:
　　No better way I saw then by importuning
　　To learn thy secrets, get into my power
　　Thy key of strength and safety: thou wilt say,
　　Why then reveal'd? I was assur'd by those 800
　　Who tempted me, that nothing was design'd
　　Against thee but safe custody, and hold:
　　That made for me, I knew that liberty
　　Would draw thee forth to perilous enterprises,
　　While I at home sate full of cares and fears
　　Wailing thy absence in my widow'd bed;
　　Here I should still enjoy thee day and night
　　Mine and Loves prisoner, not the Philistines,
　　Whole to my self, unhazarded abroad,
　　Fearless at home of partners in my love. 810
　　These reasons in Loves law have past for good,
　　Though fond and reasonless to some perhaps:
　　And Love hath oft, well meaning, wrought much wo,
　　Yet always pity or pardon hath obtain'd.
　　Be not unlike all others, not austere
　　As thou art strong, inflexible as steel.
　　If thou in strength all mortals dost exceed,
　　In uncompassionate anger do not so.
　　
　　Sam: How cunningly the sorceress displays
　　Her own transgressions, to upbraid me mine! 820
　　That malice not repentance brought thee hither,
　　By this appears : I gave, thou say'st, th' example,
　　I led the way; bitter reproach, but true,
　　I to my self was false e're thou to me,
　　Such pardon therefore as I give my folly,
　　Take to thy wicked deed: which when thou seest
　　Impartial, self-severe, inexorable,
　　Thou wilt renounce thy seeking, and much rather
　　Confess it feign'd, weakness is thy excuse,
　　And I believe it, weakness to resist 830
　　Philistian gold: if weakness may excuse,
　　What Murtherer, what Traytor, Parricide,
　　Incestuous, Sacrilegious, but may plead it?
　　All wickedness is weakness : that plea therefore
　　With God or Man will gain thee no remission.
　　But Love constrain'd thee; call it furious rage
　　To satisfie thy lust: Love seeks to have Love;
　　My love how couldst thou hope, who tookst the way
　　To raise in me inexpiable hate,
　　Knowing, as needs I must, by thee betray'd ? 840
　　In vain thou striv'st to cover shame with shame,
　　Or by evasions thy crime uncoverst more.
　　
　　Dal: Since thou determinst weakness for no plea
　　In man or woman, though to thy own condemning,
　　Hear what assaults I had, what snares besides,
　　What sieges girt me round, e're I consented;
　　Which might have aw'd the best resolv'd of men,
　　The constantest to have yielded without blame.
　　It was not gold, as to my charge thou lay'st,
　　That wrought with me: thou know'st the Magistrates 850
　　And Princes of my countrey came in person,
　　Sollicited, commanded, threatn'd, urg'd,
　　Adjur'd by all the bonds of civil Duty
　　And of Religion, press'd how just it was,
　　How honourable, how glorious to entrap
　　A common enemy, who had destroy'd
　　Such numbers of our Nation : and the Priest
　　Was not behind, but ever at my ear,
　　Preaching how meritorious with the gods
　　It would be to ensnare an irreligious 860
　　Dishonourer of Dagon : what had I
　　To oppose against such powerful arguments?
　　Only my love of thee held long debate;
　　And combated in silence all these reasons
　　With hard contest: at length that grounded maxim
　　So rife and celebrated in the mouths
　　Of wisest men; that to the public good
　　Private respects must yield; with grave authority'
　　Took full possession of me and prevail'd;
　　Vertue, as I thought, truth, duty so enjoyning. 870
　　
　　Sam: I thought where all thy circling wiles would end;
　　In feign'd Religion, smooth hypocrisie.
　　But had thy love, still odiously pretended,
　　Bin, as it ought, sincere, it would have taught thee
　　Far other reasonings, brought forth other deeds.
　　I before all the daughters of my Tribe
　　And of my Nation chose thee from among
　　My enemies, lov'd thee, as too well thou knew'st,
　　Too well, unbosom'd all my secrets to thee,
　　Not out of levity, but over-powr'd 880
　　By thy request, who could deny thee nothing;
　　Yet now am judg'd an enemy. Why then
　　Didst thou at first receive me for thy husband?
　　Then, as since then, thy countries foe profest:
　　Being once a wife, for me thou wast to leave
　　Parents and countrey; nor was I their subject,
　　Nor under their protection but my own,
　　Thou mine, not theirs: if aught against my life
　　Thy countrey sought of thee, it sought unjustly,
　　Against the law of nature, law of nations, 890
　　No more thy countrey, but an impious crew
　　Of men conspiring to uphold thir state
　　By worse than hostile deeds, violating the ends
　　For which our countrey is a name so dear;
　　Not therefore to be obey'd. But zeal mov'd thee;
　　To please thy gods thou didst it; gods unable
　　To acquit themselves and prosecute their foes
　　But by ungodly deeds, the contradiction
　　Of their own deity, Gods cannot be:
　　Less therefore to be pleas'd, obey'd, or fear'd, 900
　　These false pretexts and varnish'd colours failing,
　　Bare in thy guilt how foul must thou appear?
　　
　　Dal: In argument with men a woman ever
　　Goes by the worse, whatever be her cause.
　　
　　Sam: For want of words no doubt, or lack of breath,
　　Witness when I was worried with thy peals.
　　
　　Dal: I was a fool, too rash, and quite mistaken
　　In what I thought would have succeeded best.
　　Let me obtain forgiveness of thee, Samson,
　　Afford me place to shew what recompence 910
　　Towards thee I intend for what I have misdone,
　　Misguided: only what remains past cure
　　Bear not too sensibly, nor still insist
　　To afflict thy self in vain: though sight be lost,
　　Life yet hath many solaces, enjoy'd
　　Where other senses want not their delights
　　At home in leisure and domestic ease,
　　Exempt from many a care and chance to which
　　Eye-sight exposes daily men abroad.
　　I to the Lords will intercede, not doubting 920
　　Thir favourable ear, that I may fetch thee
　　>From forth this loathsom prison-house, to abide
　　With me, where my redoubl'd love and care
　　With nursing diligence, to me glad office,
　　May ever tend about thee to old age
　　With all things grateful chear'd, and so suppli'd,
　　That what by me thou hast lost thou least shalt miss.
　　
　　Sam: No, no, of my condition take no care;
　　It fits not; thou and I long since are twain;
　　Nor think me so unwary or accurst 930
　　To bring my feet again into the snare
　　Where once I have been caught; I know thy trains
　　Though dearly to my cost, thy ginns, and toyls;
　　Thy fair enchanted cup, and warbling charms
　　No more on me have power, their force is null'd,
　　So much of Adders wisdom I have learn't
　　To fence my ear against thy sorceries.
　　If in my flower of youth and strength, when all men
　　Lov'd, honour'd, fear'd me, thou alone could hate me
　　Thy Husband, slight me, sell me, and forgo me; 940
　　How wouldst thou use me now, blind, and thereby
　　Deceiveable, in most things as a child
　　Helpless, thence easily contemn'd, and scorn'd,
　　And last neglected? How wouldst thou insult
　　When I must live uxorious to thy will
　　In perfet thraldom, how again betray me,
　　Bearing my words and doings to the Lords
　　To gloss upon, and censuring, frown or smile?
　　This Gaol I count the house of Liberty
　　To thine whose doors my feet shall never enter. 950
　　
　　Dal: Let me approach at least, and touch thy hand.
　　
　　Sam: Not for thy life, lest fierce remembrance wake
　　My sudden rage to tear thee joint by joint.
　　At distance I forgive thee, go with that;
　　Bewail thy falshood, and the pious works
　　It hath brought forth to make thee memorable
　　Among illustrious women, faithful wives:
　　Cherish thy hast'n'd widowhood with the gold
　　Of Matrimonial treason: so farewel.
　　
　　Dal: I see thou art implacable, more deaf 960
　　To prayers, then winds and seas, yet winds to seas
　　Are reconcil'd at length, and Sea to Shore:
　　Thy anger, unappeasable, still rages,
　　Eternal tempest never to be calm'd.
　　Why do I humble thus my self, and suing
　　For peace, reap nothing but repulse and hate?
　　Bid go with evil omen and the brand
　　Of infamy upon my name denounc't?
　　To mix with thy concernments I desist
　　Henceforth, nor too much disapprove my own. 970
　　Fame if not double-fac't is double-mouth'd,
　　And with contrary blast proclaims most deeds,
　　On both his wings, one black, th' other white,
　　Bears greatest names in his wild aerie flight.
　　My name perhaps among the Circumcis'd
　　In Dan, in Judah, and the bordering Tribes,
　　To all posterity may stand defam'd,
　　With malediction mention'd, and the blot
　　Of falshood most unconjugal traduc't.
　　But in my countrey where I most desire, 980
　　In Ecron, Gaza, Asdod, and in Gath
　　I shall be nam'd among the famousest
　　Of Women, sung at solemn festivals,
　　Living and dead recorded, who to save
　　Her countrey from a fierce destroyer, chose
　　Above the faith of wedlock-bands, my tomb
　　With odours visited and annual flowers.
　　Not less renown'd then in Mount Ephraim,
　　Jael who with inhospitable guile
　　Smote Sisera sleeping through the Temples nail'd. 990
　　Nor shall I count it hainous to enjoy
　　The public marks of honour and reward
　　Conferr'd upon me, for the piety
　　Which to my countrey I was judg'd to have shewn.
　　At this who ever envies or repines
　　I leave him to his lot, and like my own.
　　
　　Chor: She's gone, a manifest Serpent by her sting
　　Discover'd in the end, till now conceal'd.
　　
　　Sam: So let her go, God sent her to debase me,
　　And aggravate my folly who committed 1000
　　To such a viper his most sacred trust
　　Of secresie, my safety, and my life.
　　
　　Chor: Yet beauty, though injurious, hath strange power,
　　After offence returning, to regain
　　Love once possest, nor can be easily
　　Repuls't, without much inward passion felt
　　And secret sting of amorous remorse.
　　
　　Sam: Love-quarrels oft in pleasing concord end,
　　Not wedlock-trechery endangering life.
　　
　　Chor: It is not vertue, wisdom, valour, wit, 1010
　　Strength, comliness of shape, or amplest merit
　　That womans love can win or long inherit;
　　But what it is, hard is to say,
　　Harder to hit,
　　(Which way soever men refer it)
　　Much like thy riddle, Samson, in one day
　　Or seven, though one should musing sit;
　　If any of these or all, the Timnian bride
　　Had not so soon preferr'd
　　Thy Paranymph, worthless to thee compar'd, 1020
　　Successour in thy bed,
　　Nor both so loosly disally'd
　　Thir nuptials, nor this last so trecherously
　　Had shorn the fatal harvest of thy head.
　　Is it for that such outward ornament
　　Was lavish't on thir Sex, that inward gifts
　　Were left for hast unfinish't, judgment scant,
　　Capacity not rais'd to apprehend
　　Or value what is best
　　In choice, but oftest to affect the wrong? 1030
　　Or was too much of self-love mixt,
　　Of constancy no root infixt,
　　That either they love nothing, or not long?
　　What e're it be, to wisest men and best
　　Seeming at first all heavenly under virgin veil,
　　Soft, modest, meek, demure,
　　Once join'd, the contrary she proves, a thorn
　　Intestin, far within defensive arms
　　A cleaving mischief, in his way to vertue
　　Adverse and turbulent, or by her charms 1040
　　Draws him awry enslav'd
　　With dotage, and his sense deprav'd
　　To folly and shameful deeds which ruin ends.
　　What Pilot so expert but needs must wreck
　　Embarqu'd with such a Stears-mate at the Helm?
　　Favour'd of Heav'n who finds
　　One vertuous rarely found,
　　That in domestic good combines:
　　Happy that house! his way to peace is smooth:
　　But vertue which breaks through all opposition, 1050
　　And all temptation can remove,
　　Most shines and most is acceptable above.
　　Therefore Gods universal Law
　　Gave to the man despotic power
　　Over his female in due awe,
　　Nor from that right to part an hour,
　　Smile she or lowre:
　　So shall he least confusion draw
　　On his whole life, not sway'd
　　By female usurpation, nor dismay'd. 1060
　　But had we best retire, I see a storm?
　　
　　Sam: Fair days have oft contracted wind and rain.
　　
　　Chor: But this another kind of tempest brings.
　　
　　Sam: Be less abstruse, my riddling days are past.
　　
　　Chor: Look now for no inchanting voice, nor fear
　　The bait of honied words; a rougher tongue
　　Draws hitherward, I know him by his stride,
　　The Giant Harapha of Gath, his look
　　Haughty as is his pile high-built and proud.
　　Comes he in peace? what wind hath blown him hither 1070
　　I less conjecture then when first I saw
　　The sumptuous Dalila floating this way:
　　His habit carries peace, his brow defiance.
　　
　　Sam: Or peace or not, alike to me he comes.
　　
　　Chor: His fraught we soon shall know, he now arrives.
　　
　　Har: I come not Samson, to condole thy chance,
　　As these perhaps, yet wish it had not been,
　　Though for no friendly intent. I am of Gath,
　　Men call me Harapha, of stock renown'd
　　As Og or Anak and the Emims old 1080
　　That Kiriathaim held, thou knowst me now
　　If thou at all art known. Much I have heard
　　Of thy prodigious might and feats perform'd
　　Incredible to me, in this displeas'd,
　　That I was never present on the place
　　Of those encounters, where we might have tri'd
　　Each others force in camp or listed field:
　　And now am come to see of whom such noise
　　Hath walk'd about, and each limb to survey,
　　If thy appearance answer loud report. 1090
　　
　　Sam: The way to know were not to see but taste.
　　
　　Har: Dost thou already single me; I thought
　　Gives and the Mill had tam'd thee? O that fortune
　　Had brought me to the field where thou art fam'd
　　To have wrought such wonders with an Asses Jaw;
　　I should have forc'd thee soon with other arms,
　　Or left thy carkass where the Ass lay thrown:
　　So had the glory of Prowess been recover'd
　　To Palestine, won by a Philistine
　　>From the unforeskinn'd race, of whom thou hear'st 1100
　　The highest name for valiant Acts, that honour
　　Certain to have won by mortal duel from thee,
　　I lose, prevented by thy eyes put out.
　　
　　Sam: Boast not of what thou wouldst have done, but do
　　What then thou would'st, thou seest it in thy hand.
　　
　　Har: To combat with a blind man I disdain
　　And thou hast need much washing to be toucht.
　　
　　Sam: Such usage as your honourable Lords
　　Afford me assassinated and betray'd,
　　Who durst not with thir whole united powers 1110
　　In fight withstand me single and unarm'd,
　　Nor in the house with chamber Ambushes
　　Close-banded durst attaque me, no not sleeping,
　　Till they had hir'd a woman with their gold
　　Breaking her Marriage Faith to circumvent me.
　　Therefore without feign'd shifts let be assign'd
　　Some narrow place enclos'd, where sight may give thee.
　　Or rather flight, no great advantage on me;
　　Then put on all thy gorgeous arms, thy Helmet
　　And Brigandine of brass, thy broad Habergeon. 1120
　　Vant-brass and Greves, and Gauntlet, add thy Spear
　　A Weavers beam, and seven-times-folded shield.
　　I only with an Oak'n staff will meet thee,
　　And raise such out-cries on thy clatter'd Iron,
　　Which long shall not with-hold mee from thy head,
　　That in a little time while breath remains thee,
　　Thou oft shalt wish thy self at Gath to boast
　　Again in safety what thou wouldst have done
　　To Samson, but shalt never see Gath more.
　　
　　Har: Thou durst not thus disparage glorious arms 1130
　　Which greatest Heroes have in battel worn,
　　Thir ornament and safety, had not spells
　　And black enchantments, some Magicians Art
　　Arm'd thee or charm'd thee strong, which thou from Heaven
　　Feigndst at thy birth was giv'n thee in thy hair,
　　Where strength can least abide, though all thy hairs
　　Were bristles rang'd like those that ridge the back
　　Of chaf't wild Boars, or ruffl'd Porcupines.
　　
　　Sam: I know no Spells, use no forbidden Arts;
　　My trust is in the living God who gave me 1140
　　At my Nativity this strength, diffus'd
　　No less through all my sinews, joints and bones,
　　Then thine, while I preserv'd these locks unshorn,
　　The pledge of my unviolated vow.
　　For proof hereof, if Dagon be thy god,
　　Go to his Temple, invocate his aid
　　With solemnest devotion, spread before him
　　How highly it concerns his glory now
　　To frustrate and dissolve these Magic spells,
　　Which I to be the power of Israel's God 1150
　　Avow, and challenge Dagon to the test,
　　Offering to combat thee his Champion bold,
　　With th' utmost of his Godhead seconded:
　　Then thou shalt see, or rather to thy sorrow
　　Soon feel, whose God is strongest, thine or mine.
　　
　　Har: Presume not on thy God, what e're he be,
　　Thee he regards not, owns not, hath cut off
　　Quite from his people, and delivered up
　　Into thy Enemies hand, permitted them
　　To put out both thine eyes, and fetter'd send thee 1160
　　Into the common Prison, there to grind
　　Among the Slaves and Asses thy comrades,
　　As good for nothing else, no better service
　　With those, thy boyst'rous locks, no worthy match
　　For valour to assail, nor by the sword
　　Of noble Warriour, so to stain his honour,
　　But by the Barbers razor best subdu'd.
　　
　　Sam: All these indignities, for such they are
　　>From thine, these evils I deserve and more,
　　Acknowledge them from God inflicted on me 1170
　　Justly, yet despair not of his final pardon
　　Whose ear is ever open; and his eye
　　Gracious to re-admit the suppliant;
　　In confidence whereof I once again
　　Defie thee to the trial of mortal fight,
　　By combat to decide whose god is God,
　　Thine or whom I with Israel's Sons adore.
　　
　　Har: Fair honour that thou dost thy God, in trusting
　　He will accept thee to defend his cause,
　　A Murtherer, a Revolter, and a Robber. 1180
　　
　　Sam: Tongue-doubtie Giant, how dost thou prove me these?
　　
　　Har: Is not thy Nation subject to our Lords?
　　Thir Magistrates confest it, when they took thee
　　As a League-breaker and deliver'd bound
　　Into our hands: for hadst thou not committed
　　Notorious murder on those thirty men
　　At Askalon, who never did thee harm,
　　Then like a Robber stripdst them of thir robes?
　　The Philistines, when thou hadst broke the league,
　　Went up with armed powers thee only seeking, 1190
　　To others did no violence nor spoil.
　　
　　Sam: Among the Daughters of the Philistines
　　I chose a Wife, which argu'd me no foe;
　　And in your City held my Nuptial Feast:
　　But your ill-meaning Politician Lords,
　　Under pretence of Bridal friends and guests,
　　Appointed to await me thirty spies,
　　Who threatning cruel death constrain'd the bride
　　To wring from me and tell to them my secret,
　　That solv'd the riddle which I had propos'd. 1200
　　When I perceiv'd all set on enmity,
　　As on my enemies, where ever chanc'd,
　　I us'd hostility, and took thir spoil
　　To pay my underminers in thir coin.
　　My Nation was subjected to your Lords.
　　It was the force of Conquest; force with force
　　Is well ejected when the Conquer'd can.
　　But I a private person, whom my Countrey
　　As a league-breaker gave up bound, presum'd
　　Single Rebellion and did Hostile Acts. 1210
　　I was no private but a person rais'd
　　With strength sufficient and command from Heav'n
　　To free my Countrey; if their servile minds
　　Me their Deliverer sent would not receive,
　　But to thir Masters gave me up for nought,
　　Th' unworthier they; whence to this day they serve.
　　I was to do my part from Heav'n assign'd,
　　And had perform'd it if my known offence
　　Had not disabl'd me, not all your force:
　　These shifts refuted, answer thy appellant 1220
　　Though by his blindness maim'd for high attempts,
　　Who now defies thee thrice to single fight,
　　As a petty enterprise of small enforce.
　　
　　Har: With thee a Man condemn'd, a Slave enrol'd,
　　Due by the Law to capital punishment?
　　To fight with thee no man of arms will deign.
　　
　　Sam: Cam'st thou for this, vain boaster, to survey me,
　　To descant on my strength, and give thy verdit?
　　Come nearer, part not hence so slight inform'd;
　　But take good heed my hand survey not thee. 1230
　　Har: O Baal-zebub! can my ears unus'd
　　Hear these dishonours, and not render death?
　　
　　Sam: No man with-holds thee, nothing from thy hand
　　Fear I incurable; bring up thy van,
　　My heels are fetter'd, but my fist is free.
　　
　　Har: This insolence other kind of answer fits.
　　
　　Sam: Go baffl'd coward, lest I run upon thee,
　　Though in these chains, bulk without spirit vast,
　　And with one buffet lay thy structure low,
　　Or swing thee in the Air, then dash thee down 1240
　　To the hazard of thy brains and shatter'd sides.
　　
　　Har: By Astaroth e're long thou shalt lament
　　These braveries in Irons loaden on thee.
　　
　　Chor: His Giantship is gone somewhat crestfall'n,
　　Stalking with less unconsci'nable strides,
　　And lower looks, but in a sultrie chafe.
　　
　　Sam: I dread him not, nor all his Giant-brood,
　　Though Fame divulge him Father of five Sons
　　All of Gigantic size, Goliah chief.
　　
　　Chor: He will directly to the Lords, I fear, 1250
　　And with malitious counsel stir them up
　　Some way or other yet further to afflict thee.
　　
　　Sam: He must allege some cause, and offer'd fight
　　Will not dare mention, lest a question rise
　　Whether he durst accept the offer or not,
　　And that he durst not plain enough appear'd.
　　Much more affliction then already felt
　　They cannot well impose, nor I sustain;
　　If they intend advantage of my labours
　　The work of many hands, which earns my keeping 1260
　　With no small profit daily to my owners.
　　But come what will, my deadliest foe will prove
　　My speediest friend, by death to rid me hence,
　　The worst that he can give, to me the best.
　　Yet so it may fall out, because thir end
　　Is hate, not help to me, it may with mine
　　Draw thir own ruin who attempt the deed.
　　
　　Chor: Oh how comely it is and how reviving
　　To the Spirits of just men long opprest!
　　When God into the hands of thir deliverer 1270
　　Puts invincible might
　　To quell the mighty of the Earth, th' oppressour,
　　The brute and boist'rous force of violent men
　　Hardy and industrious to support
　　Tyrannic power, but raging to pursue
　　The righteous and all such as honour Truth;
　　He all thir Ammunition
　　And feats of War defeats
　　With plain Heroic magnitude of mind
　　And celestial vigour arm'd, 1270
　　Thir Armories and Magazins contemns,
　　Renders them useless, while
　　With winged expedition
　　Swift as the lightning glance he executes
　　His errand on the wicked, who surpris'd
　　Lose thir defence distracted and amaz'd.
　　But patience is more oft the exercise
　　Of Saints, the trial of thir fortitude,
　　Making them each his own Deliverer,
　　And Victor over all 1290
　　That tyrannie or fortune can inflict,
　　Either of these is in thy lot,
　　Samson, with might endu'd
　　Above the Sons of men; but sight bereav'd
　　May chance to number thee with those
　　Whom Patience finally must crown.
　　This Idols day hath bin to thee no day of rest,
　　Labouring thy mind
　　More then the working day thy hands,
　　And yet perhaps more trouble is behind. 1300
　　For I descry this way
　　Some other tending, in his hand
　　A Scepter or quaint staff he bears,
　　Comes on amain, speed in his look.
　　By his habit I discern him now
　　A Public Officer, and now at hand.
　　His message will be short and voluble.
　　
　　Off: Ebrews, the Pris'ner Samson here I seek.
　　
　　Chor: His manacles remark him, there he sits.
　　
　　Off: Samson, to thee our Lords thus bid me say; 1310
　　This day to Dagon is a solemn Feast,
　　With Sacrifices, Triumph, Pomp, and Games;
　　Thy strength they know surpassing human rate,
　　And now some public proof thereof require
　　To honour this great Feast, and great Assembly;
　　Rise therefore with all speed and come along,
　　Where I will see thee heartn'd and fresh clad
　　To appear as fits before th' illustrious Lords.
　　
　　Sam: Thou knowst I am an Ebrew, therefore tell them,
　　Our Law forbids at thir Religious Rites 1320
　　My presence; for that cause I cannot come.
　　
　　Off: This answer, be assur'd, will not content them.
　　
　　Sam: Have they not Sword-players, and ev'ry sort
　　Of Gymnic Artists, Wrestlers, Riders, Runners,
　　Juglers and Dancers, Antics, Mummers, Mimics,
　　But they must pick me out with shackles tir'd,
　　And over-labour'd at thir publick Mill,
　　To make them sport with blind activity?
　　Do they not seek occasion of new quarrels
　　On my refusal to distress me more, 1330
　　Or make a game of my calamities?
　　Return the way thou cam'st, I will not come.
　　
　　Off: Regard thy self, this will offend them highly.
　　
　　Sam: My self? my conscience and internal peace.
　　Can they think me so broken, so debas'd
　　With corporal servitude, that my mind ever
　　Will condescend to such absurd commands?
　　Although thir drudge, to be thir fool or jester,
　　And in my midst of sorrow and heart-grief
　　To shew them feats, and play before thir god, 1340
　　The worst of all indignities, yet on me
　　Joyn'd with extream contempt? I will not come.
　　
　　Off: My message was impos'd on me with speed,
　　Brooks no delay: is this thy resolution?
　　
　　Sam: So take it with what speed thy message needs.
　　
　　Off : I am sorry what this stoutness will produce.
　　
　　Sam: Perhaps thou shalt have cause to sorrow indeed.
　　
　　Chor: Consider, Samson; matters now are strain'd
　　Up to the highth, whether to bold or break;
　　He's gone, and who knows how he may report 1350
　　Thy words by adding fuel to the flame?
　　Expect another message more imperious,
　　More Lordly thund'ring then thou well wilt bear.
　　
　　Sam: Shall I abuse this Consecrated gift
　　Of strength, again returning with my hair
　　After my great transgression, so requite
　　Favour renew'd, and add a greater sin
　　By prostituting holy things to Idols;
　　A Nazarite in place abominable
　　Vaunting my strength in honour to thir Dagon? 1360
　　Besides, how vile, contemptible, ridiculous,
　　What act more execrably unclean, prophane?
　　
　　Chor: Yet with this strength thou serv'st the Philistines,
　　Idolatrous, uncircumcis'd, unclean.
　　
　　Sam: Not in thir Idol-worship, but by labour
　　Honest and lawful to deserve my food
　　Of those who have me in thir civil power.
　　
　　Chor: Where the heart joins not, outward acts defile not
　　
　　Sam: Where outward force constrains, the sentence holds:
　　But who constrains me to the Temple of Dagon, 1370
　　Not dragging? the Philistian Lords command.
　　Commands are no constraints. If I obey them,
　　I do it freely; venturing to displease
　　God for the fear of Man, and Man prefer,
　　Set God behind: which in his jealousie
　　Shall never, unrepented, find forgiveness.
　　Yet that he may dispense with me or thee
　　Present in Temples at Idolatrous Rites
　　For some important cause, thou needst not doubt.
　　
　　Chor: How thou wilt here come off surmounts my reach. 1380
　　
　　Sam: Be of good courage, I begin to feel
　　Some rouzing motions in me which dispose
　　To something extraordinary my thoughts.
　　I with this Messenger will go along,
　　Nothing to do, be sure, that may dishonour
　　Our Law, or stain my vow of Nazarite.
　　If there be aught of presage in the mind,
　　This day will be remarkable in my life
　　By some great act, or of my days the last.
　　
　　Chor: In time thou hast resolv'd, the man returns. 1390
　　
　　Off: Samson, this second message from our Lords
　　To thee I am bid say. Art thou our Slave,
　　Our Captive, at the public Mill our drudge,
　　And dar'st thou at our sending and command
　　Dispute thy coming? come without delay;
　　Or we shall find such Engines to assail
　　And hamper thee, as thou shalt come of force,
　　Though thou wert firmlier fastn'd then a rock.
　　
　　Sam: I could be well content to try thir Art,
　　Which to no few of them would prove pernicious. 1400
　　Yet knowing thir advantages too many,
　　Because they shall not trail me through thir streets
　　Like a wild Beast, I am content to go.
　　Masters commands come with a power resistless
　　To such as owe them absolute subjection;
　　And for a life who will not change his purpose?
　　(So mutable are all the ways of men)
　　Yet this be sure, in nothing to comply
　　Scandalous or forbidden in our Law.
　　
　　Off: I praise thy resolution, doff these links: 1410
　　By this compliance thou wilt win the Lords
　　To favour, and perhaps to set thee free.
　　
　　Sam: Brethren farewel, your company along
　　I will not wish, lest it perhaps offend them
　　To see me girt with Friends; and how the sight
　　Of me as of a common Enemy,
　　So dreaded once, may now exasperate them
　　I know not. Lords are Lordliest in thir wine,
　　And the well-feasted Priest then soonest fir'd
　　With zeal, if aught Religion seem concern'd: 1420
　　No less the people on thir Holy-days
　　Impetuous, insolent, unquenchable;
　　Happ'n what may, of me expect to hear
　　Nothing dishonourable, impure, unworthy
　　Our God, our Law, my Nation, or my self,
　　The last of me or no I cannot warrant.
　　
　　Chor: Go, and the Holy One
　　Of Israel be thy guide
　　To what may serve his glory best, & spread his name
　　Great among the Heathen round: 1430
　　Send thee the Angel of thy Birth, to stand
　　Fast by thy side, who from thy Fathers field
　　Rode up in flames after his message told
　　Of thy conception, and be now a shield
　　Of fire; that Spirit that first rusht on thee
　　In the camp of Dan
　　Be efficacious in thee now at need.
　　For never was from Heaven imparted
　　Measure of strength so great to mortal seed,
　　As in thy wond'rous actions Hath been seen. 1440
　　But wherefore comes old Manoa in such hast
　　With youthful steps? much livelier than e're while
　　He seems: supposing here to find his Son,
　　Or of him bringing to us some glad news?
　　
　　Man: Peace with you brethren; my inducement hither
　　Was not at present here to find my Son,
　　By order of the Lords new parted hence
　　To come and play before them at thir Feast.
　　I heard all as I came, the City rings
　　And numbers thither flock, I had no will, 1450
　　Lest I should see him forc't to things unseemly.
　　But that which moved my coming now, was chiefly
　　To give ye part with me what hope I have
　　With good success to work his liberty.
　　
　　Chor: That hope would much rejoyce us to partake
　　With thee; say reverend Sire, we thirst to hear.
　　
　　Man: I have attempted one by one the Lords
　　Either at home, or through the high street passing,
　　With supplication prone and Fathers tears
　　To accept of ransom for my Son thir pris'ner, 1460
　　Some much averse I found and wondrous harsh,
　　Contemptuous, proud, set on revenge and spite;
　　That part most reverenc'd Dagon and his Priests,
　　Others more moderate seeming, but thir aim
　　Private reward, for which both God and State
　　They easily would set to sale, a third
　　More generous far and civil, who confess'd
　　They had anough reveng'd, having reduc't
　　Thir foe to misery beneath thir fears,
　　The rest was magnanimity to remit, 1470
　　If some convenient ransom were propos'd.
　　What noise or shout was that? it tore the Skie.
　　
　　Chor: Doubtless the people shouting to behold
　　Thir once great dread, captive, & blind before them,
　　Or at some proof of strength before them shown.
　　
　　Man: His ransom, if my whole inheritance
　　May compass it, shall willingly be paid
　　And numberd down: much rather I shall chuse
　　To live the poorest in my Tribe, then richest,
　　And he in that calamitous prison left. 1480
　　No, I am fixt not to part hence without him.
　　For his redemption all my Patrimony,
　　If need be, I am ready to forgo
　　And quit: not wanting him, I shall want nothing.
　　
　　Chor: Fathers are wont to lay up for thir Sons,
　　Thou for thy Son art bent to lay out all;
　　Sons wont to nurse thir Parents in old age,
　　Thou in old age car'st how to nurse thy Son,
　　Made older then thy age through eye-sight lost.
　　
　　Man: It shall be my delight to tend his eyes, 1490
　　And view him sitting in the house, enobl'd
　　With all those high exploits by him atchiev'd,
　　And on his shoulders waving down those locks,
　　That of a Nation arm'd the strength contain'd:
　　And I perswade me God had not permitted
　　His strength again to grow up with his hair
　　Garrison'd round about him like a Camp
　　Of faithful Souldiery, were not his purpose
　　To use him further yet in some great service,
　　Not to sit idle with so great a gift 1500
　　Useless, and thence ridiculous about him.
　　And since his strength with eye-sight was not lost,
　　God will restore him eye-sight to his strength.
　　
　　Chor: Thy hopes are not ill founded nor seem vain
　　Of his delivery, and thy joy thereon
　　Conceiv'd, agreeable to a Fathers love,
　　In both which we, as next participate.
　　
　　Man: I know your friendly minds and -- O what noise!
　　Mercy of Heav'n what hideous noise was that!
　　Horribly loud unlike the former shout. 1510
　　
　　Chor: Noise call you it or universal groan
　　As if the whole inhabitation perish'd,
　　Blood, death, and deathful deeds are in that noise,
　　Ruin, destruction at the utmost point.
　　
　　Man: Of ruin indeed methought I heard the noise,
　　Oh it continues, they have slain my Son.
　　
　　Chor: Thy Son is rather slaying them, that outcry
　　>From slaughter of one foe could not ascend.
　　
　　Man: Some dismal accident it needs must be;
　　What shall we do, stay here or run and see? 1520
　　
　　Chor: Best keep together here, lest running thither
　　We unawares run into dangers mouth.
　　This evil on the Philistines is fall'n
　　>From whom could else a general cry be heard?
　　The sufferers then will scarce molest us here,
　　>From other hands we need not much to fear.
　　What if his eye-sight (for to Israels God
　　Nothing is hard) by miracle restor'd,
　　He now be dealing dole among his foes,
　　And over heaps of slaughter'd walk his way? 1530
　　
　　Man: That were a joy presumptuous to be thought.
　　
　　Chor: Yet God hath wrought things as incredible
　　For his people of old; what hinders now?
　　
　　Man: He can I know, but doubt to think be will;
　　Yet Hope would fain subscribe, and tempts Belief.
　　A little stay will bring some notice hither.
　　
　　Chor: Of good or bad so great, of bad the sooner;
　　For evil news rides post, while good news baits.
　　And to our wish I see one hither speeding,
　　An Ebrew, as I guess, and of our Tribe. 1540
　　
　　Mess: O whither shall I run, or which way flie
　　The sight of this so horrid spectacle
　　Which earst my eyes beheld and yet behold;
　　For dire imagination still persues me.
　　But providence or instinct of nature seems,
　　Or reason though disturb'd, and scarse consulted
　　To have guided me aright, I know not how,
　　To thee first reverend Manoa, and to these
　　My Countreymen, whom here I knew remaining,
　　As at some distance from the place of horrour, 1550
　　So in the sad event too much concern'd.
　　
　　Man: The accident was loud, & here before thee
　　With rueful cry, yet what it was we hear not,
　　No Preface needs, thou seest we long to know.
　　
　　Mess: It would burst forth, but I recover breath
　　And sense distract, to know well what I utter.
　　
　　Man: Tell us the sum, the circumstance defer.
　　
　　Mess: Gaza yet stands, but all her Sons are fall'n,
　　All in a moment overwhelm'd and fall'n.
　　
　　Man: Sad, but thou knowst to Israelites not saddest 1560
　　The desolation of a Hostile City.
　　
　　Mess: Feed on that first, there may in grief be surfet.
　　
　　Man: Relate by whom.
　　 Mess: By Samson.
　　
　　Man: That still lessens
　　The sorrow, and converts it nigh to joy.
　　
　　Mess: Ah Manoa I refrain, too suddenly
　　To utter what will come at last too soon;
　　Lest evil tidings with too rude irruption
　　Hitting thy aged ear should pierce too deep.
　　
　　Man: Suspense in news is torture, speak them out.
　　
　　Mess: Then take the worst in brief, Samson is dead. 1570
　　
　　Man: The worst indeed, O all my hope's defeated
　　To free him hence! but death who sets all free
　　Hath paid his ransom now and full discharge.
　　What windy joy this day had I conceiv'd
　　Hopeful of his Delivery, which now proves
　　Abortive as the first-born bloom of spring
　　Nipt with the lagging rear of winters frost.
　　Yet e're I give the rains to grief, say first,
　　How dy'd he? death to life is crown or shame.
　　All by him fell thou say'st, by whom fell he, 1580
　　What glorious band gave Samson his deaths wound?
　　
　　Mess: Unwounded of his enemies he fell.
　　
　　Man: Wearied with slaughter then or how? explain.
　　
　　Mess: By his own hands.
　　 Man: Self-violence? what cause
　　Brought him so soon at variance with himself
　　Among his foes?
　　 Mess: Inevitable cause
　　At once both to destroy and be destroy'd;
　　The Edifice where all were met to see him
　　Upon thir heads and on his own he pull'd.
　　
　　Man: O lastly over-strong against thy self! 1590
　　A dreadful way thou took'st to thy revenge.
　　More than anough we know; but while things yet
　　Are in confusion, give us if thou canst,
　　Eye-witness of what first or last was done,
　　Relation more particular and distinct.
　　
　　Mess: Occasions drew me early to this City,
　　And as the gates I enter'd with Sun-rise,
　　The morning Trumpets Festival proclaim'd
　　Through each high street: little I had dispatch't
　　When all abroad was rumour'd that this day 1600
　　Samson should be brought forth to shew the people
　　Proof of his mighty strength in feats and games;
　　I sorrow'd at his captive state, but minded
　　Not to be absent at that spectacle.
　　The building was a spacious Theatre
　　Half round on two main Pillars vaulted high,
　　With seats where all the Lords and each degree
　　Of sort, might sit in order to behold,
　　The other side was op'n, where the throng
　　On banks and scaffolds under Skie might stand; 1610
　　I among these aloof obscurely stood.
　　The Feast and noon grew high, and Sacrifice
　　Had fill'd thir hearts with mirth, high chear, & wine,
　　When to thir sports they turn'd. Immediately
　　Was Samson as a public servant brought,
　　In thir state Livery clad; before him Pipes
　　And Timbrels, on each side went armed guards,
　　Both horse and foot before him and behind
　　Archers, and Slingers, Cataphracts and Spears.
　　At sight of him the people with a shout 1620
　　Rifted the Air clamouring thir god with praise,
　　Who had made thir dreadful enemy thir thrall.
　　He patient but undaunted where they led him.
　　Came to the place, and what was set before him
　　Which without help of eye, might be assay'd,
　　To heave, pull, draw, or break, he still perform'd
　　All with incredible, stupendious force,
　　None daring to appear Antagonist.
　　At length for intermission sake they led him
　　Between the pillars; he his guide requested 1630
　　(For so from such as nearer stood we heard)
　　As over-tir'd to let him lean a while
　　With both his arms on those two massie Pillars
　　That to the arched roof gave main support.
　　He unsuspitious led him; which when Samson
　　Felt in his arms, with head a while enclin'd,
　　And eyes fast fixt he stood, as one who pray'd,
　　Or some great matter in his mind revolv'd.
　　At last with head erect thus cryed aloud,
　　Hitherto, Lords, what your commands impos'd 1640
　　I have perform'd, as reason was, obeying,
　　Not without wonder or delight beheld.
　　Now of my own accord such other tryal
　　I mean to shew you of my strength, yet greater;
　　As with amaze shall strike all who behold.
　　This utter'd, straining all his nerves he bow'd,
　　As with the force of winds and waters pent,
　　When Mountains tremble, those two massie Pillars
　　With horrible convulsion to and fro,
　　He tugg'd, he shook, till down they came and drew 1650
　　The whole roof after them, with burst of thunder
　　Upon the heads of all who sate beneath,
　　Lords, Ladies, Captains, Councellors, or Priests,
　　Thir choice nobility and flower, not only
　　Of this but each Philistian City round
　　Met from all parts to solemnize this Feast.
　　Samson with these immixt, inevitably
　　Pulld down the same destruction on himself;
　　The vulgar only scap'd who stood without.
　　
　　Chor: O dearly-bought revenge, yet glorious! 1660
　　Living or dying thou hast fulfill'd
　　The work for which thou wast foretold
　　To Israel and now ly'st victorious
　　Among thy slain self-kill'd
　　Not willingly, but tangl'd in the fold
　　Of dire necessity, whose law in death conjoin'd
　　Thee with thy slaughter'd foes in number more
　　Then all thy life had slain before.
　　
　　Semichor: While thir hearts were jocund and sublime
　　Drunk with Idolatry, drunk with Wine, 1670
　　And fat regorg'd of Bulls and Goats,
　　Chaunting thir Idol, and preferring
　　Before our living Dread who dwells
　　In Silo his bright Sanctuary:
　　Among them he a spirit of phrenzie sent,
　　Who hurt thir minds,
　　And urg'd them on with mad desire
　　To call in hast for thir destroyer;
　　They only set on sport and play
　　Unweetingly importun'd 1680
　　Thir own destruction to come speedy upon them.
　　So fond are mortal men
　　Fall'n into wrath divine,
　　As thir own ruin on themselves to invite,
　　Insensate left, or to sense reprobate,
　　And with blindness internal struck.
　　
　　Semichor: But he though blind of sight,
　　Despis'd and thought extinguish't quite,
　　With inward eyes illuminated
　　His fierie vertue rouz'd 1690
　　>From under ashes into sudden flame,
　　And as an ev'ning Dragon came,
　　Assailant on the perched roosts,
　　And nests in order rang'd
　　Of tame villatic Fowl; but as an Eagle
　　His cloudless thunder bolted on thir heads.
　　So vertue giv'n for lost,
　　Deprest, and overthrown, as seem'd,
　　Like that self-begott'n bird
　　In the Arabian woods embost, 1700
　　That no second knows nor third,
　　And lay e're while a Holocaust,
　　>From out her ashie womb now teem'd
　　Revives, reflourishes, then vigorous most
　　When most unactive deem'd,
　　And though her body die, her fame survives,
　　A secular bird ages of lives.
　　
　　Man: Come, come, no time for lamentation now,
　　Nor much more cause, Samson hath quit himself
　　Like Samson, and heroicly hath finish'd 1710
　　A life Heroic, on his Enemies
　　Fully reveng'd, hath left them years of mourning,
　　And lamentation to the Sons of Caphtor
　　Through all Philistian bounds. To Israel
　　Honour hath left, and freedom, let but them
　　Find courage to lay hold on this occasion,
　　To himself and Fathers house eternal fame;
　　And which is best and happiest yet, all this
　　With God not parted from him, as was feard,
　　But favouring and assisting to the end. 1720
　　Nothing is here for tears, nothing to wail
　　Or knock the breast, no weakness, no contempt,
　　Dispraise, or blame, nothing but well and fair,
　　And what may quiet us in a death so noble.
　　Let us go find the body where it lies
　　Sok't in his enemies blood, and from the stream
　　With lavers pure and cleansing herbs wash off
　　The clotted gore. I with what speed the while
　　(Gaza is not in plight to say us nay)
　　Will send for all my kindred, all my friends 1730
　　To fetch him hence and solemnly attend
　　With silent obsequie and funeral train
　　Home to his Fathers house: there will I build him
　　A Monument, and plant it round with shade
　　Of Laurel ever green, and branching Palm,
　　With all his Trophies hung, and Acts enroll'd
　　In copious Legend, or sweet Lyric Song.
　　Thither shall all the valiant youth resort,
　　And from his memory inflame thir breasts
　　To matchless valour, and adventures high: 1740
　　The Virgins also shall on feastful days
　　Visit his Tomb with flowers, only bewailing
　　His lot unfortunate in nuptial choice,
　　>From whence captivity and loss of eyes.
　　
　　Chor: All is best, though we oft doubt,
　　What th' unsearchable dispose
　　Of highest wisdom brings about,
　　And ever best found in the close.
　　Oft he seems to hide his face,
　　But unexpectedly returns 1750
　　And to his faithful Champion hath in place
　　Bore witness gloriously; whence Gaza mourns
　　And all that band them to resist
　　His uncontroulable intent,
　　His servants he with new acquist
　　Of true experience from this great event
　　With peace and consolation hath dismist,
　　And calm of mind all passion spent.
　　
　　The End.
　　
　　
　　
　　
　　APPENDIX.
　　
　　Specimen of Milton's spelling, from the Cambridge autograph
　　manuscript.
　　
　　
　　ON TIME
　　
　　set on a clock case
　　
　　Fly envious Time till thou run out thy race
　　call on the lazie leaden-stepping howres
　　whose speed is but the heavie plummets pace
　　& glut thy selfe wth what thy womb devoures
　　Wch is no more then what is false & vaine
　　& meerly mortall drosse
　　so little is our losse
　　so little is thy gaine
　　for when as each thing bad thou hast entomb'd
　　& last of all thy greedie selfe consum'd 10
　　then long Aeternity shall greet our blisse
　　wth an individuall kisse
　　and Joy shall overtake us as a flood
　　when every thing yt is sincerely good
　　& pfectly divine
　　with Truth, & Peace, & Love shall ever shine
　　about the supreme throne
　　of him t' whose happy-making sight alone
　　when once our heav'nly-guided soule shall clime
　　then all this earthie grossnesse quit 20
　　attir'd wth starres wee shall for ever sit
　　Triumphing over Death, & Chance, & thee O Time.