Paradise Lost: The Third Book
 
 
  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 seduced. The Son of God renders praises to his Father for the manifestation of his gracious purpose towards Man: but 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 die, unless some one can be found sufficient to answer for his offence, and undergo his punishment. The Son of God freely offers himself a ransom for Man: the Father accepts him, ordains his incarnation, pronounces his exaltation above all Names in Heaven and Earth; commands all the Angels to adore him. They obey, and, hymning to their harps in full quire, celebrate the Father and the Son. Meanwhile Satan alights upon the bare convex of this World’s outermost orb; where wandering he first finds a place since called the Limbo of Vanity; what persons and things fly up thither: thence comes to the gate of Heaven, described 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 placed here, inquires of him the place of his habitation, and is directed: Alights first on Mount Niphates.
 
 
HAIL, holy Light, offspring of Heaven first-born! 
Or of the Eternal coeternal beam 
May I express thee unblamed? since God is light, 
And never but in unapproached light 
Dwelt from eternity-dwelt then in thee,         5
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 revisit now with bolder wing, 
Escaped the Stygian Pool, though long detained 
In that obscure sojourn, while in my flight,         15
Through utter and through middle Darkness borne, 
With other notes than to the Orphean lyre 
I sung of Chaos and eternal Night, 
Taught by the Heavenly Muse to venture down 
The dark descent, and up to re-ascend,         20
Though hard and rare. Thee I revisit safe, 
And feel thy sovran vital lamp; but thou 
Revisit’st not these eyes, that rowl in vain 
To find thy piercing ray, and find no dawn; 
So thick a drop serene hath quenched their orbs,         25
Or dim suffusion veiled. Yet not the more 
Cease I to wander where the Muses haunt 
Clear spring, or shady grove, or sunny hill, 
Smit with the love of sacred song; but chief 
Thee, Sion, and the flowery brooks beneath,         30
That wash thy hallowed feet, and warbling flow, 
Nightly I visit: nor sometimes forget 
Those other two equalled with me in fate, 
(So were I equalled with them in renown!) 
Blind Thamyris and blind Mæonides,         35
And Tiresias and Phineus, prophets old: 
Then feed on thoughts that voluntary 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 even or morn, 
Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer’s rose, 
Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine; 
But cloud instead and ever—during dark         45
Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of men 
Cut off, and, for the book of knowledge fair, 
Presented with a universal blank 
Of Nature’s works, to me expunged and rased, 
And wisdom 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.         55
  Now had the Almighty Father from above, 
From the pure Empyrean where He sits 
High throned 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 stars, and from his sight received 
Beatitude past utterance; on his right 
The radiant image of his glory sat, 
His only Son. On Earth he first beheld 
Our two first parents, yet the only two         65
Of mankind, in the Happy Garden placed, 
Reaping immortal fruits of joy and love, 
Uninterrupted joy, unrivalled love, 
In blissful solitude. He then surveyed 
Hell and the gulf between, and Satan there         70
Coasting the wall of Heaven 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 seemed 
Firm land imbosomed without firmament,         75
Uncertain which, in ocean or in air. 
Him God beholding from his prospect high, 
Wherein past, present, future, he beholds, 
Thus to His only Son foreseeing spake:— 
  “Only-begotten Son, seest thou what rage         80
Transports our Adversary? whom no bounds 
Prescribed, no bars of Hell, nor all the chains 
Heaped on him there, nor yet the main Abyss 
Wide interrupt, can hold; so bent he seems 
On desperate revenge, that shall redound         85
Upon his own rebellious head. And now, 
Through all restraint broke loose, he wings his way 
Not far off Heaven, in the precincts of light, 
Directly towards the new-created World, 
And Man there placed, with purpose to assay         90
If him by force he can destroy, or, worse, 
By some false guile pervert: and shall pervert; 
For Man will hearken to his glozing lies, 
And easily transgress the sole command, 
Sole pledge of his obedience: so will fall         95
He and his faithless progeny. Whose fault? 
Whose but his own? Ingrate, he had of me 
All he could have; I made him just and right, 
Sufficient to have stood, though free to fall. 
Such I created all the Ethereal Powers         100
And Spirits, both them who stood and them who failed; 
Freely they stood who stood, and fell who fell. 
Not free, what proof could they have given sincere 
Of true allegiance, constant faith, or love, 
Where only what they needs must do appeared,         105
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 despoiled, 
Made passive both, had served Necessity,         110
Not Me? They, therefore, as to right belonged 
So were created, nor can justly accuse 
Their Maker, or their making, or their fate, 
As if Predestination overruled 
Their will, disposed by absolute decree         115
Or high foreknowledge. They themselves decreed 
Their own revolt, not I. If I foreknew, 
Foreknowledge had no influence on their fault, 
Which had no less proved certain unforeknown. 
So without least impulse or shadow of fate,         120
Or aught by me immutably foreseen, 
They trespass, authors to themselves in all, 
Both what they judge and what they choose; for so 
I formed them free, and free they must remain 
Till they enthrall themselves: I else must change         125
Their nature, and revoke the high decree 
Unchangeable, eternal, which ordained 
Their freedom; they themselves ordained their fall. 
The first sort by their own suggestion fell, 
Self-tempted, self-depraved; Man falls, deceived         130
By the other first: Man, therefore, shall find grace; 
The other, none. In mercy and justice both, 
Through Heaven and Earth, so shall my glory excel; 
But mercy, first and last, shall brightest shine.” 
  Thus while God spake ambrosial fragrance filled         135
All Heaven, and in the blessèd Spirits elect 
Sense of new joy ineffable diffused. 
Beyond compare the Son of God was seen 
Most glorious; in him all his Father shon 
Substantially expressed; and in his face         140
Divine compassion visibly appeared, 
Love without end, and without measure grace; 
Which uttering, thus He to his Father spake;— 
  “O Father, gracious was that word which closed 
Thy sovran sentence, that Man should find grace;         145
For which both Heaven and Earth shall high extol 
Thy praises, with the innumerable sound 
Of hymns and sacred songs, wherewith thy throne 
Encompassed shall resound thee ever blest. 
For, should Man finally be lost—should Man,         150
Thy creature late so loved, thy youngest son, 
Fall circumvented thus by fraud, though joined 
With his own folly -! That be from thee far, 
That far be from thee, Father, who art judge 
Of all things made, and judgest only right!         155
Or shall the Adversary thus obtain 
His end, and frustrate thine? Shall he fulfil 
His malice, and thy goodness bring to naught 
Or proud return, though to his heavier doom 
Yet with revenge accomplished, and to Hell         160
Draw after him the whole race of mankind, 
By him corrupted? Or wilt thou thyself 
Abolish thy creation, and unmake, 
For him, what for thy glory thou hast made?— 
So should thy goodness and thy greatness both         165
Be questioned and blasphemed without defense.” 
  To whom the great Creator thus replied:— 
“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 spoken as my thoughts are, all 
As my eternal purpose hath decreed. 
Man shall not quite be lost, but saved who will; 
Yet not of will in him, but grace in me 
Freely voutsafed. Once more I will renew         175
His lapsed powers, though forfeit, and enthralled 
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 fallen condition is, and to me owe 
All his deliverance, 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 warned         185
Their sinful state, and to appease betimes 
The incensèd Deity, while offered grace 
Invites; for I will clear their senses dark 
What may suffice, and soften stony hearts 
To pray, repent, and bring obedience due.         190
To prayer, repentance, and obedience due, 
Though but endeavoured with sincere intent, 
Mine ear 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,         195
Light after light well used 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 hardened, 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 done. Man disobeying, 
Disloyal, breaks his fealty, and sins 
Against the high supremacy of Heaven,         205
Affecting Godhead, and, so losing all, 
To expiate his treason hath naught left, 
But, to destruction sacred and devote, 
He with his whole posterity must die; 
Die he or Justice must; unless for him         210
Some other, able, and as willing, pay 
The rigid satisfaction, death for death. 
Say, Heavenly Powers, where shall we find such love? 
Which of ye will be mortal, to redeem 
Man’s mortal crime, and just, the unjust to save?         215
Dwells in all Heaven charity so dear?” 
  He asked, but all the Heavenly Quire stood mute, 
And silence was in Heaven: on Man’s behalf 
Patron or intercessor none appeared— 
Much less that durst upon his own head draw         220
The deadly forfeiture, and ransom set. 
And now without redemption all mankind 
Must have been lost, adjudged to Death and Hell 
By doom severe, had not the Son of God, 
In whom the fulness dwells of love divine,         225
His dearest mediation thus renewed:— 
  “Father, thy word is passed, 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, unimplored, unsought? 
Happy for Man, so coming! He her aid 
Can never seek, once dead in sins and lost— 
Atonement for himself, or offering meet, 
Indebted and undone, hath none to bring.         235
Behold me, then: me for him, life for life, 
I offer; on me let thine anger fall; 
Account me Man: I for his sake will leave 
Thy bosom, and this glory next to thee 
Freely put off, and for him lastly die         240
Well pleased; on me let Death wreak all his rage. 
Under his gloomy power I shall not long 
Lie vanquished. Thou hast given me to possess 
Life in myself for ever; by thee I live; 
Though now to Death I yield, and am his due,         245
All that of men can die, yet, that debt paid, 
Thou wilt not leave me in the loathsome grave 
His prey, nor suffer my unspotted soul 
For ever with corruption there to dwell; 
But I shall rise victorious, and subdue         250
My vanquisher, spoiled of his vaunted spoil. 
Death his death’s wound shall then receive, and stoop 
Inglorious, of his mortal sting disarmed; 
I through the ample air in triumph high 
Shall lead Hell captive maugre Hell, and show         255
The powers of Darkness bound. Thou, at the sight 
Pleased, out of Heaven shalt look down and smile, 
While, by thee raised, I ruin all my foes— 
Death last, and with his carcase glut the grave; 
Then, with the multitude of my redeemed,         260
Shall enter Heaven, long absent, and return, 
Father, to see thy face, wherein no cloud 
Of anger shall remain, but peace assured 
And reconcilement: wrauth shall be no more 
Thenceforth, but in thy presence joy entire.”         265
  His words here ended; but his meek aspect’ 
Silent yet spake, and breathed immortal love 
To mortal man, above which only shon 
Filial obedience: as a sacrifice 
Glad to be offered, he attends the will         270
Of his great Father. Admiration seized 
All Heaven, what this might mean, and whither tend, 
Wondering; but soon the Almighty thus replied:— 
  “O thou in Heaven and Earth the only peace 
Found out for mankind under wrauth, O thou         275
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 losing thee a while, the whole race lost!         280
Thou, therefore, whom thou only canst redeem, 
Their nature also to thy nature join; 
And be thyself Man among men on Earth, 
Made flesh, when time shall be, of virgin seed, 
By wondrous birth; be thou in Adam’s room         285
The head of all mankind, though Adam’s son. 
As in him perish all men, so in thee, 
As from a second root, shall be restored 
As many as are restored; without thee, none. 
His crime makes guilty all his sons; thy merit,         290
Imputed, shall absolve them who renounce 
Their own both righteous and unrighteous deeds, 
And live in thee transplanted, and from thee 
Receive new life, So Man, as is most just, 
Shall satisfy for Man, be judged and die,         295
And dying rise, and, rising, with him raise 
His brethren, ransomed with his own dear life. 
So Heavenly love shall outdo Hellish hate, 
Giving to death, and dying to redeem, 
So dearly to redeem what Hellish hate         300
So easily destroyed, and still destroys 
In those who, when they may, accept not grace. 
Nor shalt thou, by descending to assume 
Man’s nature, lessen or degrade thine own. 
Because thou hast, though throned in highest bliss         305
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 than birthright Son of God,— 
Found worthiest to be so by being good,         310
Far more than great or high; because in thee 
Love hath abounded more than glory abounds; 
Therefore thy humiliation shall exalt 
With thee thy manhood also to this Throne: 
Here shalt thou sit incarnate, here shalt reign         315
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 Supreme, 
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 Heaven, 
Shalt in the sky appear, and from thee send 
The summoning Archangels to proclaim         325
Thy dread tribunal, forthwith from all winds 
The living, and forthwith the cited dead 
Of all past ages, to the general doom 
Shall hasten; such a peal shall rouse their sleep. 
Then, all thy Saints assembled, thou shalt judge         330
Bad men and Angels; they arraigned shall sink 
Beneath thy sentence; Hell, her numbers full, 
Thenceforth shall be for ever shut. Meanwhile 
The World shall burn, and from her ashes spring 
New Heaven and Earth, wherein the just shall dwell,         335
And, after all their tribulations long, 
See golden days, fruitful of golden deeds, 
With Joy and Love triumph’ing, and fair Truth. 
Then thou thy regal sceptre shalt lay by; 
For regal sceptre 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 me.” 
  No sooner had the Almighty ceased but—all 
The multitude of Angels, with a shout         345
Loud as from numbers without number, sweet 
As from blest voices, uttering joy—Heaven rung 
With jubilee, and loud Hosannas filled 
The eternal regions. Lowly reverent 
Towards either throne they bow, and to the ground         350
With solemn adoration down they cast 
Their crowns, inwove with amarant and gold,— 
Immortal amarant, a flower which once 
In Paradise, fast by the Tree of Life, 
Began to bloom, but, soon for Man’s offence         355
To Heaven removed where first it grew, there grows 
And flowers aloft, shading the Fount of Life, 
And where the River of Bliss through midst of Heaven 
Rowls o’er Elysian flowers her amber stream! 
With these, that never fade, the Spirits elect         360
Bind their resplendent locks, inwreathed with beams. 
Now in loose garlands thick thrown off, the bright 
Pavement, that like a sea of jasper shon, 
Impurpled with celestial roses smiled. 
Then, crowned again, their golden harps they took—         365
Harps ever tuned, that glittering by their side 
Like quivers hung; and with preamble sweet 
Of charming symphony they introduce 
Their sacred song, and waken raptures high: 
No voice exempt, no voice but well could join         370
Melodious part; such concord is in Heaven. 
  Thee, Father, first they sung, Omnipotent 
Immutable, Immortal. Infinite, 
Eternal King; thee, Author of all being, 
Fountain of light, thyself invisible         375
Amidst the glorious brightness where thou sitt’st 
Throned 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 appear,         380
Yet dazzle Heaven, that brightest Seraphim 
Approach not, but with both wings veil their eyes. 
Thee next they sang, of all creation first, 
Begotten Son, Divine Similitude, 
In whose conspicuous countenance, without cloud         385
Made visible, the Almighty Father shines, 
Whom else no creature can behold: on thee 
Impressed the effulgence of his glory abides; 
Transfused on thee his ample Spirit rests. 
He Heaven of Heavens, and all the Powers therein,         390
By thee created; and by thee threw down 
The aspiring Dominations. Thou that day 
Thy Father’s dreadful thunder didst not spare, 
Nor stop thy flaming chariot-wheels, that shook 
Heaven’s everlasting frame, while o’er the necks         395
Thou drov’st of warring Angels disarrayed. 
Back from pursuit, thy Powers with loud acclaim 
Thee only extolled, Son of thy Father’s might, 
To execute fierce vengeance on his foes. 
Not so on Man: him, through their malice fallen,         400
Father of mercy and grace, thou didst not doom 
So strictly, but much more to pity encline. 
No sooner did thy dear and only Son 
Perceive thee purposed not to doom frail Man 
So strictly, but much more to pity enclined,         405
He, to appease thy wrauth, and end the strife 
Of mercy and justice in thy face discerned, 
Regardless of the bliss wherein he sat 
Second to thee, offered himself to die 
For Man’s offence. O unexampled love!         410
Love nowhere to be found less than 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 Father’s praise disjoin!         415
  Thus they in Heaven, above the Starry Sphere, 
Their happy hours in joy and hymning spent. 
Meanwhile, upon the firm opacous globe 
Of this round World, whose first convex divides 
The luminous inferior Orbs, enclosed         420
From Chaos and the inroad of Darkness old, 
Satan alighted walks. A globe far off 
It seemed; now seems a boundless continent, 
Dark, waste, and wild, under the frown of Night 
Starless exposed, and ever-threatening storms         425
Of Chaos blustering round, inclement sky, 
Save on that side which from the wall of Heaven, 
Though distant far, some small reflection gains 
Of glimmering air less vexed with tempest loud. 
Here walked the Fiend at large in spacious field.         430
As when a vultur, on Imaus bred, 
Whose snowy ridge the roving Tartar bounds, 
Dislodging from a region scarce of prey, 
To gorge the flesh of lambs or yearling kids 
On hills where flocks are fed, flies toward the springs         435
Of Ganges or Hydaspes, Indian streams, 
But in his way lights on the barren plains 
Of Sericana, where Chineses drive 
With sails and wind their cany waggons light; 
So, on this windy sea of land, the Fiend         440
Walked up and down alone, bent on his prey: 
Alone, for other creature in this place, 
Living or lifeless, to be found was none:— 
None yet; but store hereafter from the Earth 
Up hither like aerial vapours flew         445
Of all things transitory and vain, when sin 
With vanity had filled the works of men— 
Both all things vain, and all who in vain things 
Built their fond hopes of glory or lasting fame, 
Or happiness in this or the other life.         450
All who have their reward on earth, the fruits 
Of painful superstition and blind zeal, 
Naught seeking but the praise of men, here find 
Fit retribution, empty as their deeds; 
All the unaccomplished works of Nature’s hand,         455
Abortive, monstrous, or unkindly mixed, 
Dissolved on Earth, fleet hither, and in vain, 
Till final dissolution, wander here— 
Not in the neighbouring Moon, as some have dreamed: 
Those argent fields more likely habitants,         460
Translated Saints, or middle Spirits hold, 
Betwixt the angelical and human kind. 
Hither, of ill—joined sons and daughters born, 
First from the ancient world those Giants came, 
With many a vain exploit, though then renowned:         465
The builders next of Babel on the plain 
Of Sennaar, and still with vain design 
New Babels, had they wherewithal, would build: 
Others came single; he who, to be deemed 
A god, leaped fondly into Ætna flames,         470
Empedocles; and he who, to enjoy 
Plato’s Elysium, leaped into the sea, 
Cleombrotus; and many more, too long, 
Embryos and idiots, eremites and friars, 
White, black, and grey, with all their trumpery.         475
Here pilgrims roam, that strayed so far to seek 
In Golgotha him dead who lives in Heaven; 
And they who, to be sure of Paradise, 
Dying put on the weeds of Dominic, 
Or in Franciscan think to pass disguised.         480
They pass the planets seven, and pass the fixed, 
And that crystal’lin sphere whose balance weighs 
The trepidation talked, and that first moved; 
And now Saint Peter at Heaven’s wicket seems 
To wait them with his keys, and now at foot         485
Of Heaven’s ascent they lift their feet, when, lo! 
A violent cross wind from either coast 
Blows them transverse, then thousand leagues awry, 
Into the devious air. Then might ye see 
Cowls, hoods, and habits, with their wearers, tost         490
And fluttered into rags; then reliques, beads, 
Indulgences, dispenses, pardons, bulls 
The sport of winds: all these, upwhirled aloft, 
Fly o’er the backside of the World far off 
Into a Limbo large and broad, since called         495
The Paradise of Fools; to few unknown 
Long after, now unpeopled and untrod. 
  All this dark globe the Fiend found as he passed; 
And long he wandered, till at last a gleam 
Of dawning light turned thitherward in haste         500
His travelled steps. Far distant he descries, 
Ascending by degrees magnificent 
Up to the wall of Heaven, a structure high; 
At top whereof, but far more rich, appeared 
The work as of a kingly palace-gate,         505
With frontispiece of diamond and gold 
Imbellished; thick with sparkling orient gems 
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 sky, 
And waking cried, This is the gate of Heaven.         515
Each stair mysteriously was meant, nor stood 
There always, but drawn up to Heaven sometimes 
Viewless; and underneath a bright sea flowed 
Of jasper, or of liquid pearl, whereon 
Who after came from Earth sailing arrived         520
Wafted by Angels, or flew o’er the lake 
Rapt is a chariot drawn by fiery steeds. 
The stairs were then let down, whether to dare 
The Fiend by easy ascent, or aggravate 
His sad exclusion from the doors of bliss:         525
Direct against which opened from beneath, 
Just o’er the blissful seat of Paradise, 
A passage down to the Earth—a passage wide; 
Wider by far than that of after—times 
Over Mount Sion, and, though that were large,         530
Over the Promised Land to God so dear, 
By which, to visit oft those happy tribes, 
On high behests his Angels to and fro 
Passed frequent, and his eye with choice regard 
From Paneas, the fount of Jordan’s flood,         535
To Beërsaba, where the Holy Land 
Borders on Ægypt and the Arabian shore. 
So wide the opening seemed, where bounds were set 
To darkness, such as bound the ocean wave. 
Satan from hence, now on the lower stair,         540
That scaled by steps of gold to Heaven-gate, 
Looks down with wonder at the sudden view 
Of all this World at once. As when a scout, 
Through dark and desart ways with peril gone 
All night, at last by break of cheerful dawn         545
Obtains the brow of some high-climbing hill, 
Which to his eye discovers unaware 
The goodly prospect of some foreign land 
First seen, or some renowned metropolis 
With glistering spires and pinnacles adorned,         550
Which now the rising sun gilds with his beams; 
Such wonder seized, though after Heaven seen, 
The Spirit malign, but much more envy seized, 
At sight of all this World beheld so fair. 
Round he surveys (and well might, where he stood         555
So high above the circling canopy 
Of Night’s extended shade) from eastern point 
Of Libra to the fleecy star that bears 
Andromeda far off Atlantic seas 
Beyond the horizon; then from pole to pole         560
He views in breadth,—and, without longer pause, 
Down right into the World’s first region throws 
His flight precipitant, and winds with ease 
Through the pure marble air his oblique way 
Amongst innumerable stars, that shon         565
Stars distant, but nigh-hand seemed other worlds. 
Or other worlds they seemed, or happy isles, 
Like those Hesperian Gardens famed of old, 
Fortunate fields, and groves, and flowery vales; 
Thrice happy isles! But who dwelt happy there         570
He staid not to inquire: above them all 
The golden Sun, in splendour likest Heaven, 
Allured his eye. Thither his course he bends, 
Through the calm firmament (but up or down, 
By centre or eccentric, hard to tell,         575
Or longitude) where the great luminary, 
Aloof the vulgar constellations thick, 
That from the lordly eye keep distance due, 
Dispenses light from far. They, as they move 
Their starry dance in numbers that compute         580
Days, months, and years, towards his all-cheering lamp 
Turn swift their various motions, or are turned 
By his magnetic beam, that gently warms 
The Universe, and to each inward part 
With gentle penetration, though unseen         585
Shoots invisible virtue 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 orb 
Through his glazed optic tube yet never saw.         590
The place he found beyond expression bright, 
Compared with aught on Earth, metal or stone— 
Not all parts like, but all alike informed 
With radiant light, as glowing iron with fire. 
If metal, part seemed gold, part silver clear;         595
If stone, carbuncle most or chrysolite, 
Ruby or topaz, to the twelve that shon 
In Aaron’s breast-plate, and a stone besides; 
Imagined rather oft than elsewhere seen— 
That stone, or like to that, which there below         600
Philosophers in vain so long have sought; 
In vain, though by their powerful art they bind 
Volatile Hermes, and call up unbound 
In various shapes old Proteus from the sea, 
Drained through a limbec to his native form.         605
What wonder then if fields and regions here 
Breathe forth elixir pure, and rivers run 
Potable gold, when, with one virtuous touch, 
The arch-chimic Sun, so far from us remote, 
Produces, with terrestrial humour mixed,         610
Here in the dark so many precious things 
Of colour glorious and effect so rare? 
Here matter new to gaze the Devil met 
Undazzled. Far and wide his eye commands; 
For sight no obstacle found here, nor shade,         615
But all sunshine, as when his beams at noon 
Culminate from the equator, as they now 
Shot upward still direct, whence no way round 
Shadow from body opaque can fall; and the air, 
Nowhere so clear, sharpened his visual ray         620
To objects distant far, whereby he soon 
Saw within ken a glorious Angel stand, 
The same whom John saw also in the Sun. 
His back was turned, but not his brightness hid; 
Of beaming sunny rays a golden tiar         625
Circled his head, nor less his locks behind 
Illustrious on his shoulders fledge with wings 
Lay waving round: on some great charge imployed 
He seemed, or fixed in cogitation deep. 
Glad was the Spirit impure, as now in hope         630
To find who might direct his wandering flight 
To Paradise, the happy seat of Man, 
His journey’s end, and our beginning woe. 
But first he casts to change his proper shape, 
Which else might work him danger or delay:         635
And now a stripling Cherub he appears, 
Not of the prime, yet such as in his face 
Youth smiled celestial, and to every limb 
Suitable grace diffused; so well he feigned. 
Under a coronet his flowing hair         640
In curls on either cheek played; wings he wore 
Of many a coloured plume sprinkled 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,         645
Ere he drew nigh, his radiant visage turned, 
Admonished by his ear, and straight was known 
The Archangel Uriel—one of the seven 
Who in God’s presence, nearest to his throne, 
Stand ready at command, and are his eyes         650
That run through all the Heavens, or down to the Earth 
Bear his swift errands over moist and dry, 
O’er sea and land. Him Satan thus accosts:— 
  “Uriel! for thou of those seven Spirits that stand 
In sight of God’s high throne, gloriously bright,         655
The first art wont his great authentic will 
Interpreter through highest Heaven to bring, 
Where all his Sons thy embassy attend, 
And here art likeliest by supreme 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 ordained,         665
Hath brought me from the quires of Cherubim 
Alone thus wandering. Brightest Seraph, tell 
In which of all these shining orbs hath Man 
His fixed seat—or fixèd seat hath none, 
But all these shining orbs 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 bestowed 
Worlds, and on whom hath all these graces poured; 
That both in him and all things, as is meet,         675
The Universal Maker we may praise; 
Who justly hath driven out his rebel foes 
To deepest Hell, and, to repair that loss, 
Created this new happy race of Men 
To serve him better. Wise are all his ways!”         680
  So spake the false dissembler unperceived; 
For neither man nor angel can discern 
Hypocrisy—the only evil that walks 
Invisible, except to God alone, 
By his permissive will, through Heaven and Earth;         685
And oft, though Wisdom wake, Suspicion sleeps 
At Wisdom’s gate, and to Simplicity 
Resigns her charge, while Goodness thinks no ill 
Where no ill seems: which now for once beguiled 
Uriel, though Regent of the Sun, and held         690
The sharpest-sighted Spirit of all in Heaven; 
Who to the fraudulent impostor foul, 
In his uprightness, answer thus returned:— 
  “Fair Angel, thy desire, which tends to know 
The works of God, thereby to glorify         695
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, hear only in Heaven: 
For wonderful indeed are all his works, 
Pleasant to know, and worthiest to be all 
Had in remembrance always with delight! 
But what created mind can comprehend         705
Their number, or the wisdom infinite 
That brought them forth, but hid their causes deep? 
I saw when, at his word, the formless mass, 
This World’s material mould, came to a heap: 
Confusion heard his voice, and wild Uproar         710
Stood ruled, stood vast Infinitude confined; 
Till, at his second bidding, Darkness fled, 
Light shon, and order from disorder sprung. 
Swift to their several quarters hasted then 
The cumbrous elements—Earth, Flood, Air, Fire;         715
And this ethereal quint’ essence of Heaven 
Flew upward, spirited with various forms, 
That rowled orbicular, and turned to stars 
Numberless, as thou seest, and how they move: 
Each had his place appointed, each his course;         720
The rest in circuit walls 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 the other hemisphere,         725
Night would invade; but there the neighbouring Moon 
(So called that opposite fair star) her aid 
Timely interposes, and, her monthly round 
Still ending, still renewing, through mid-heaven, 
With borrowed light her countenance triform         730
Hence fills and empties, to enlighten the Earth, 
And in her pale dominion checks the night. 
That spot to which I point is Paradise, 
Adam’s abode; those lofty shades his bower. 
Thy way thou canst not miss; me mine requires.”         735
  Thus said, he turned; 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 the ecliptic, sped with hoped success,         740
Throws his steep flight in many an aerie wheel, 
Nor staid till on Niphates’ top he lights.

 
Paradise Lost: The Fourth Book
 
 
  THE ARGUMENT.—Satan, now in prospect of Eden, and nigh the place where he must now attempt the bold enterprise which he undertook alone against God and Man, falls into many doubts with himself, and many passions—fear, envy, and despair; but at length confirms himself in evil; journeys on to Paradise, whose outward prospect and situation 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 described; Satan’s first sight of Adam and Eve; his wonder at their excellent form and happy state, but with resolution to work their fall; overhears their 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 their state by some other means. Meanwhile Uriel, descending on a sunbeam, warns Gabriel, who had in charge the gate of Paradise, that some evil Spirit had escaped the Deep, and passed 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 ere morning. Night coming on, Adam and Eve discourse of going to their rest; their bower described; their evening worship. Gabriel, drawing forth his bands of night—watch to walk the rounds of Paradise, appoints two strong Angels to Adam’s bower, lest the evil 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 questioned, he scornfully answers; prepares resistance; but, hindered by a sign from Heaven, flies out of Paradise.
 
 
O FOR that warning voice, which he who saw 
The Apocalypse heard cry in Heaven aloud, 
Then when the Dragon, put to second rout, 
Came furious down to be revenged on men, 
Woe to the inhabitants on Earth! that now,         5
While time was, our first parents had been warned 
The coming of their secret Foe, and scaped, 
Haply so scaped, his mortal snare! For now 
Satan, now first inflamed with rage, came down, 
The tempter, ere the accuser, of mankind,         10
To wreak on innocent frail Man his loss 
Of that first battle, and his flight to Hell. 
Yet not rejoicing in his speed, though bold 
Far off and fearless, nor with cause to boast, 
Begins his dire attempt; which, nigh the birth         15
Now rowling, boils in his tumultuous breast, 
And like a devilish engine back recoils 
Upon himself. Horror and doubt distract 
His troubled thoughts, and from the bottom stir 
The hell within him; for within him Hell         20
He brings, and round about him, nor from Hell 
One step, no more than from Himself, can fly 
By change of place. Now conscience wakes despair 
That slumbered; wakes the bitter memory 
Of what he was, what is, and what must be         25
Worse; of worse deeds worse sufferings must ensue! 
Sometimes towards Eden, which now in his view 
Lay pleasant, his grieved look he fixes sad; 
Sometimes towards Heaven and the full-blazing Sun, 
Which now sat high in his meridian tower:         30
Then, much revolving, thus in sighs began:— 
  “O thou that, with surpassing glory crowned, 
Look’st from thy sole dominion like the god 
Of this new World—at whose sight all the stars 
Hide their diminished heads—to thee I call,         35
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 sphere, 
Till pride and worse ambition threw me down,         40
Warring in Heaven against Heaven’s matchless King! 
Ah, wherefore? He deserved 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.         45
What could be less than to afford him praise, 
The easiest recompense, and pay him thanks, 
How due? Yet all his good proved ill in me, 
And wrought but malice. Lifted up so high, 
I ’sdained 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 owe; 
Forgetful what from him I still received; 
And understood not that a grateful mind         55
By owing owes not, but still pays, at once 
Indebted and discharged—what burden then? 
Oh, had his powerful destiny ordained 
Me some inferior Angel, I had stood 
Then happy; no unbounded hope had raised         60
Ambition. Yet why not? Some other Power 
As great might have aspired, and me, though mean, 
Drawn to his part. But other Powers as great 
Fell not, but stand unshaken, from within 
Or from without to all temptations armed!         65
Hadst thou the same free will and power to stand? 
Thou hadst. Whom has thou then, or what, to accuse, 
But Heaven’s free love dealt equally to all? 
Be then his love accursed, since, love or hate, 
To me alike it deals eternal woe.         70
Nay, cursed be thou; since against his thy will 
Chose freely what it now so justly rues. 
Me miserable! which way shall I fly 
Infinite wrauth and infinite despair? 
Which way I fly is Hell; myself am Hell;         75
And, in the lowest deep, a lower deep 
Still threatening to devour me opens wide, 
To which the Hell I suffer seems a Heaven. 
O, then, at last relent! Is there no place 
Left for repentence, 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 seduced 
With other promises and other vaunts 
Than to submit, boasting I could subdue         85
The Omnipotent. Aye me! they little know 
How dearly I abide that boast so vain, 
Under what torments inwardly I groan. 
While they adore me on the throne of Hell, 
With diadem and sceptre high advanced,         90
The lower still I fall, only supreme 
In misery: such joy ambition finds! 
But say I could repent, and could obtain, 
By act of grace, my former state; how soon 
Would highth recal high thoughts, how soon unsay         95
What feigned 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 pierced so deep) 
Which would but lead me to a worse relapse         100
And heavier fall: so should I purchase dear 
Short intermission, bought with double smart. 
This knows my Punisher; therefore as far 
From granting he, as I from begging, peace. 
All hope excluded thus, behold, instead         105
Of us, outcast, exiled, his new delight, 
Mankind, created, and for him this World! 
So farewell hope, and, with hope, farewell fear, 
Farewell remorse! All good to me is lost; 
Evil, be thou my Good: by thee at least         110
Divided empire with Heaven’s King I hold, 
By thee, and more than half perhaps will reign; 
As Man ere long, and this new World, shall know.” 
  Thus while he spake, each passion dimmed his face, 
Thrice changed with pale—ire, envy, and despair;         115
Which marred his borrowed visage, and betrayed 
Him counterfeit, if any eye beheld: 
For Heavenly minds from such distempers foul 
Are ever clear. Whereof he soon aware 
Each perturbation smoothed with outward calm,         120
Artificer of fraud; and was the first 
That practised falsehood under saintly shew, 
Deep malice to conceal, couched with revenge: 
Yet not enough had practised to deceive 
Uriel, once warned; whose eye pursued him down         125
The way he went, and on the Assyrian mount 
Saw him disfigured, more than could befall 
Spirit of happy sort: his gestures fierce 
He marked and mad demeanour, then alone, 
As he supposed, all unobserved, 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 hairy sides         135
With thicket overgrown, grotesque and wild. 
Access denied; and overhead up-grew 
Insuperable highth of loftiest shade, 
Cedar, and pine, and fir, and branching palm, 
A sylvan scene, and, as the ranks ascend         140
Shade above shade, a woody theatre 
Of stateliest view. Yet higher than their tops 
The verdurous wall of Paradise up-sprung; 
Which to our general Sire gave prospect large 
Into his nether empire neighbouring round.         145
And higher than that wall a circling row 
Of goodliest trees, loaden with fairest fruit, 
Blossoms and fruits at once of golden hue, 
Appeared, with gay enamelled colours mixed; 
On which the sun more glad impressed his beams         150
Than in fair evening cloud, or humid bow, 
When God hath showered the earth; so lovely seemed 
That lantskip. And of pure now purer air 
Meets his approach, and to the heart inspires 
Vernal delight and joy, able to drive         155
All sadness but despair. Now gentle gales, 
Fanning their odoriferous wings, dispense 
Native perfumes, and whisper whence they stole 
Those balmy spoils. As when to them who sail 
Beyond the Cape of Hope, and now are past         160
Mozambic, off at sea north-east winds blow 
Sabean odours from the spicy shore 
Of Araby the Blest, with such delay 
Well pleased they slack their course, and many a league 
Cheered with the grateful smell old Ocean smiles;         165
So entertained those odorous sweets the Fiend 
Who came their bane, though with them better pleased 
Than Asmodeus with the fishy fume 
That drove him, though enamoured, from the spouse 
Of Tobit’s son, and with a vengeance sent         170
From Media post to Ægypt, there fast bound. 
  Now to the ascent of that steep savage hill 
Satan had journeyed on, pensive and slow; 
But further way found none; so thick entwined, 
As one continued brake, the undergrowth         175
Of shrubs and tangling bushes had perplexed 
All path of man or beast that passed that way. 
One gate there only was, and that looked east 
On the other side. Which when the Arch-Felon saw, 
Due entrance he disdained, and, in contempt,         180
At one slight bound high overleaped all bound 
Of hill or highest wall, and sheer within 
Lights on his feet. As when a prowling wolf, 
Whom hunger drives to seek new haunt for prey, 
Watching where shepherds pen their flocks at eve,         185
In hurdled cotes amid the field secure, 
Leaps o’er the fence with ease into the fold; 
Or as a thief, bent to unhoard the cash 
Of some rich burgher, whose substantial doors, 
Cross-barred and bolted fast, fear no assault,         190
In at the window climbs, or o’er the tiles; 
So climb this first grand Thief into God’s fold: 
So since into his Church lewd hirelings climb. 
Thence up he flew, and on the Tree of Life, 
The middle tree and highest there that grew,         195
Sat like a Cormorant; yet not true life 
Thereby regained, but sat devising death 
To them who lived; nor on the virtue thought 
Of that life-giving plant, but only used 
For prospect what, well used, had been the pledge         200
Of immortality. So little knows 
Any, but God alone, to value right 
The good before him, but perverts best things 
To worst abuse, or to their meanest use. 
Beneath him, with new wonder, now he views,         205
To all delight of human sense exposed, 
In narrow room Nature’s 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 stretched her line         210
From Auran eastward to the royal towers 
Of great Seleucia, built by Grecian kings, 
Or where the sons of Eden long before 
Dwelt in Telassar. In this pleasant soil 
His far more pleasant garden God ordained.         215
Out of the fertile ground he caused 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 changed his course, but through the shaggy hill 
Passed underneath ingulfed; for God had thrown         225
That mountain, as his garden-mould, high raised 
Upon the rapid current, which, through veins 
Of porous earth with kindly thirst updrawn, 
Rose a fresh fountain, and with many a rill 
Watered the garden; thence united fell         230
Down the steep glade, and met the nether flood, 
Which from his darksome passage now appears, 
And now, divided into four main streams, 
Runs diverse, wandering many a famous realm 
And country whereof here needs no account;         235
But rather to tell how, if Art could tell 
How, from that sapphire fount the crisped brooks, 
Rowling on orient pearl and sands of gold, 
With mazy error under pendant shades 
Ran nectar, visiting each plant, and fed         240
Flowers worthy of Paradise, which not nice Art 
In beds and curious knots, but Nature boon 
Poured forth profuse on hill, and dale, and plain, 
Both where the morning sun first warmly smote 
The open field, and where the unpierced shade         245
Imbrowned the noontide bowers. Thus was this place, 
A happy rural seat of various view: 
Groves whose rich trees wept odorous gums and balm, 
Others whose fruit, burnished with golden rind, 
Hung amiable—Hesperian fables true,         250
If true, here only—and of delicious taste. 
Betwixt them lawns, or level downs, and flocks 
Grazing the tender herb, were interposed, 
Or palmy hillock; or the flowery lap 
Of some irriguous valley spread her store,         255
Flowers of all hue, and without thorn the rose. 
Another side, umbrageous grots and caves 
Of cool recess, o’er which the mantling vine 
Lays forth her purple grape, and gently creeps 
Luxuriant; meanwhile murmuring waters fall         260
Down the slope hills dispersed, or in a lake, 
That to the fringèd bank with myrtle crowned 
Her crystal mirror holds, unite their streams. 
The birds their quire apply; airs, vernal airs, 
Breathing the smell of field and grove, attune         265
The trembling leaves, while universal Pan, 
Knit with the Graces and the Hours in dance, 
Led on the eternal Spring. Not that fair field 
Of Enna, where Proserpin gathering flowers, 
Herself a fairer flower, by gloomy Dis         270
Was gathered—which cost Ceres all that pain 
To seek her through the world—nor that sweet grove 
Of Daphne, by Orontes and the inspired 
Castalian spring, might with this Paradise 
Of Eden strive; nor that Nyseian isle,         275
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 their issue guard,         280
Mount Amara (though this by some supposed 
True Paradise) under the Ethiop line 
By Nilus’ head, enclosed with shining rock, 
A whole day’s journey high, but wide remote 
From this Assyrian garden, where the Fiend         285
Saw undelighted all delight, all kind 
Of living creatures, new to sight and strange. 
Two of far nobler shape, erect and tall, 
God—like erect, with native honour clad 
In naked majesty, seemed lords of all,         290
And worthy seemed; for in their looks divine 
The image of their glorious Maker shon, 
Truth, wisdom, sanctitude severe and pure— 
Severe, but in true filial freedom placed, 
Whence true authority in men: though both         295
Not equal, as their sex not equal seemed; 
For contemplation he and valour formed, 
For softness she and sweet attractive grace; 
He for God only, she for God in him. 
His fair large front and eye sublime declared         300
Absolute rule; and Hyacinthin locks 
Round from his parted forelock manly hung 
Clustering, but not beneath his shoulders broad: 
She, as a veil down to the slender waist, 
Her unadornèd golden tresses wore         305
Dishevelled, but in wanton ringlets waved 
As the vine curls her tendrils—which implied 
Subjection, but required with gentle sway, 
And by her yielded, by him best received— 
Yielded, with coy submission, modest pride,         310
And sweet, reluctant, amorous delay. 
Nor those mysterious parts were then concealed: 
Then was not guilty shame. Dishonest shame 
Of Nature’s works, honour dishonourable, 
Sin-bred, how have ye troubled all mankind         315
With shews instead, mere shews of seeming pure 
And banished from man’s life his happiest life, 
Simplicity and spotless innocence! 
So passed they naked on, nor shunned the sight 
Of God or Angel; for they thought no ill:         320
So hand in hand they passed, the loveliest pair 
That ever since in love’s embraces met— 
Adam the goodliest man of men since born 
His sons; the fairest of her daughters Eve. 
Under a tuft of shade that on a green         325
Stood whispering soft, by a fresh fountain—side. 
They sat them down; and, after no more toil 
Of their sweet gardening labour than sufficed 
To recommend cool Zephyr, and make ease 
More easy, wholesome thirst and appetite         330
More grateful, to their supper-fruits they fell— 
Nectarine fruits, which the complaint boughs 
Yielded them, sidelong as they sat recline 
On the soft downy bank damasked with flowers. 
The savoury pulp they chew, and in the rind,         335
Still as they thirsted, scoop the brimming stream 
Nor gentle purpose, nor endearing smiles 
Wanted, nor youthful dalliance, as beseems 
Fair couple linked in happy nuptial league, 
Alone as they. About them frisking played         340
All beasts of the earth, since wild, and of all chase 
In wood or wilderness, forest or den. 
Sporting the lion ramped, and in his paw 
Dandled the kid; bears, tigers, ounces, pards, 
Gambolled before them; the unwieldy elephant,         345
To make them mirth, used all his might, and wreathed 
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
Couched, and, now filled with pasture, gazing sat, 
Or bedward ruminating; for the sun, 
Declined, was hastening now with prone career 
To the Ocean Isles, and in the ascending scale 
Of Heaven the stars that usher evening rose:         355
When Satan, still in gaze as first he stood, 
Scarce thus at length failed speech recovered sad:— 
  “O Hell! what do mine eyes with grief behold? 
Into our room of bliss thus high advanced 
Creatures of other mould—Earth-born perhaps,         360
Not Spirits, yet to Heavenly 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 formed them on their shape hath poured.         365
Ah! gentle pair, ye 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: 
Happy, but for so happy ill secured         370
Long to continue, and this high seat, your Heaven, 
Ill fenced for Heaven to keep out such a foe 
As now is entered; yet no purposed foe 
To you, whom I could pity thus forlorn, 
Though I unpitied. League with you I seek,         375
And mutual amity, so strait, 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 Marker’s work; he gave it me,         380
Which I as freely give. Hell shall unfold, 
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 offspring; if no better place,         385
Thank him who puts me, loath, to this revenge 
On you, who wrong me not, for him who wronged. 
And, should I at your harmless innocence 
Melt, as I do, yet public reason just— 
Honour and empire with revenge enlarged         390
By conquering this new World—compels me now 
To do what else, though damned, I should abhor.” 
  So spake the Fiend, and with necessity, 
The tyrant’s plea, excused his devilish deeds. 
Then from his lofty stand on that high tree         395
Down he alights among the sportful herd 
Of those four-footed kinds, himself now one, 
Now other, as their shape served best his end 
Nearer to view his prey, and, unespied, 
To mark what of their state he more might learn         400
By word or action marked. About them round 
A lion now he stalks with fiery glare; 
Then as a tiger, who by chance hath spied 
In some pourlieu two gentle fawns at play, 
Straight crouches close; then rising, changes oft         405
His couchant watch, as one who chose his ground, 
Whence rushing he might surest seize them both 
Griped in each paw: when Adam, first of men. 
To first of women, Eve, thus moving speech, 
Turned him all ear to hear new utterance flow:—         410
  “Sole partner and sole part of all these joys, 
Dearer thyself than all, needs must the Power 
That made us, and for us this ample World, 
Be infinitely good, and of his good 
As liberal and free as infinite;         415
That raised us from the dust, and placed us here 
In all this happiness, who at this hand 
Have nothing merited, nor can perform 
Aught whereof he hath need; he who requires 
From us no other service than to keep         420
This one, this easy charge—of all the trees 
In Paradise that bear delicious fruit 
So various, not to taste that only Tree 
Of Knowledge, planted by the Tree of Life; 
So near grows Death to Life, whate’er Death is—         425
Some dreadful thing no doubt; for well thou know’st 
God hath pronounced it Death to taste that Tree: 
The only sign of our obedience left 
Among so many signs of power and rule 
Conferred upon us, and dominion given         430
Over all other creatures that possess 
Earth, Air, and Sea. Then let us not think hard 
One easy prohibition, who enjoy 
Free leave so large to all things else, and choice 
Unlimited of manifold delights;         435
But let us ever praise him, and extol 
His bounty, following our delightful task, 
To prune these growing plants, and tend these flowers; 
Which, were it toilsome, yet with thee were sweet.” 
  To whom thus Eve replied:—“O thou for whom         440
And from whom I was formed flesh of thy flesh, 
And without whom am to no end, my guide 
And head! what thou hast said is just and right. 
For we to him, indeed, all praises owe, 
And daily thanks—I chiefly, who enjoy         445
So far the happier lot, enjoying thee 
Pre-eminent by so much odds, while thou 
Like consort to thyself canst nowhere find. 
That day I oft remember, when from sleep 
I first awaked, and found myself reposed,         450
Under a shade, on flowers, much wondering where 
And what I was, whence thither brought, and how. 
Not distant far from thence a murmuring sound 
Of waters issued from a cave, and spread 
Into a liquid plain; then stood unmoved,         455
Pure as the expanse of Heaven. I thither went 
With unexperienced thought, and laid me down 
On the green bank, to look into the clear 
Smooth lake, that to me seemed another sky. 
As I bent down to look, just opposite         460
A Shape within the watery gleam appeared, 
Bending to look on me. I started back, 
It started back; but pleased I soon returned 
Pleased it returned as soon with answering looks 
Of sympathy and love. There I had fixed         465
Mine eyes till now, and pined with vain desire, 
Had not a voice thus warned me: ‘What thou seest, 
What there thou seest, fair creature, is thyself; 
With thee it came and goes: but follow me, 
And I will bring thee where no shadow stays         470
Thy coming, and thy soft imbraces—he 
Whose image thou art; him thou shalt enjoy 
Inseparably thine; to him shalt bear 
Multitudes like thyself, and thence be called 
Mother of human race.’ What could I do,         475
But follow straight, invisibly thus led? 
Till I espied thee, fair, indeed, and tall, 
Under a platan; yet methought less fair, 
Less winning soft, less amiably mild, 
That that smooth watery image. Back I turned;         480
Thou, following, cried’st aloud, ‘Return, fair Eve; 
Whom fliest thou? Whom thou fliest, of him thou art, 
His flesh, his bone, to give thee being I lent 
Out of my side to thee, nearest my heart, 
Substantial life, to have thee by my side         485
Henceforth an individual solace dear: 
Part of my soul I seek thee, and thee claim 
My other half.’ With that thy gentle hand 
Seized mine: I yielded, and from that time see 
How beauty is excelled by manly grace         490
And wisdom, which alone is truly fair.” 
  So spake our general mother, and, with eyes 
Of conjugal attraction unreproved, 
And meek surrender, half-embracing leaned 
On our first father; half her swelling breast         495
Naked met his, under the flowing gold 
Of her loose tresses hid. He, in delight 
Both of her beauty and submissive charms, 
Smiled with superior love, as Jupiter 
On Juno smiles when he impregns the clouds         500
That shed May flowers, and pressed her matron lip 
With kisses pure. Aside the Devil turned 
For envy; yet with jealous leer malign 
Eyed them askance, and to himself thus plained:— 
  “Sight hateful, sight tormenting! Thus these two,         505
Imparadised in one another’s arms, 
The happier Eden, shall enjoy their 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 unfulfilled, with pain of longing pines! 
Yet let me not forget what I have gained 
From their own mouths. All is not theirs, it seems; 
One fatal tree there stands, of Knowledge called, 
Forbidden them to taste. Knowledge forbidden?         515
Suspicious, reasonless! Why should their Lord 
Envy them that? Can it be sin to know? 
Can it be death? And do they only stand 
By ignorance? Is that their happy state, 
The proof of their obedience and their faith?         520
O fair foundation laid whereon to build 
Their ruin! Hence I will excite their minds 
With more desire to know, and to reject 
Envious commands, invented with design 
To keep them low, whom knowledge might exalt         525
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 unspied; 
A chance but chance may lead where I may meet         530
Some wandering Spirit of Heaven, by fountain-side, 
Or in thick shade retired, from him to draw 
What further would be learned. Live while ye may, 
Yet happy pair; enjoy, till I return, 
Short pleasures; for long woes are to succeed!”         535
  So saying, his proud step he scornful turned, 
But with sly circumspection, and began 
Through wood, through waste, o’er hill, o’er dale, his roam. 
Meanwhile in utmost longitude, where Heaven 
With Earth and Ocean meets, the setting Sun         540
Slowly descended, and with right aspect 
Against the eastern gate of Paradise 
Levelled his evening rays. It was a rock 
Of alabaster, piled up to the clouds, 
Conspicuous far, winding with one ascent         545
Accessible from Earth, one entrance high; 
The rest was craggy cliff, that overhung 
Still as it rose, impossible to climb. 
Betwixt these rocky pillars Gabriel sat, 
Chief of the angelic guards, awaiting night;         550
About him exercised heroic games 
The unarmed youth of Heaven; but nigh at hand 
Celestial armoury, shields, helms, and spears, 
Hung high, with diamond flaming and with gold. 
Thither came Uriel, gliding through the even         555
On a sunbeam, swift as a shooting star 
In autumn thwarts the night, when vapours fired 
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 course by lot hath given 
Charge and strict watch that to this happy place 
No evil thing approach or enter in. 
This day at highth of noon came to my sphere 
A Spirit, zealous, as he seemed, to know         565
More of the Almighty’s works, and chiefly Man, 
God’s latest image. I described his way 
Bent all on speed, and marked his aerie gait, 
But in the mount that lies from Eden north, 
Where he first lighted, soon discerned his looks         570
Alien from Heaven, with passions foul obscured. 
Mine eye pursued him still, but under shade 
Lost sight of him. One of the banished crew, 
I fear, hath ventured from the Deep, to raise 
New troubles; him thy care must be to find.”         575
  To whom the wingèd Warrior thus returned:— 
“Uriel, no wonder if thy perfect sight, 
Amid the Sun’s bright circle where thou sitt’st, 
See far and wide. In at this gate none pass 
The vigilance here placed, but such as come         580
Well known from Heaven; since meridian hour 
No creature thence. If Spirit of other sort, 
So minded, have o’erleaped these earthly bounds 
On purpose, hard thou know’st it to exclude 
Spiritual substance with corporeal bar.         585
But, if within the circuit of these walks, 
In whatsoever shape, he lurk of whom 
Thou tell’st, by morrow dawning I shall know.” 
  So promised he; and Uriel to his charge 
Returned on that bright beam, whose point now raised         590
Bore him slope downward to the Sun, now fallen 
Beneath the Azores; whether the Prime Orb, 
Incredible how swift, had thither rowled 
Diurnal, or this less volúbil Earth 
By shorter flight to the east, had left him there         595
Arraying with reflected purple and gold 
The clouds that on his western throne attend. 
  Now came still Evening on, and Twilight gray 
Had in her sober livery all things clad; 
Silence accompanied; for beast and bird,         600
They to their grassy couch, these to their nests 
Were slunk, all but the wakeful nightingale. 
She all night longer her amorous descant sung: 
Silence was pleased. Now glowed the firmament 
With living Saphirs; Hesperus, that led         605
The starry host, rode brightest, till the Moon, 
Rising in clouded majesty, at length 
Apparent queen, unveiled her peerless light, 
And o’er the dark her silver mantle threw; 
When Adam thus to Eve:—“Fair consort, the hour         610
Of night, and all things now retired 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 slumberous weight, inclines         615
Our eye-lids. Other creatures all day long 
Rove idle, unimployed, and less need rest; 
Man hath his daily work of body or mind 
Appointed, which declares his dignity, 
And the regard of Heaven on all his ways;         620
While other animals unactive range, 
And of their doings God takes no account. 
To—morrow, ere fresh morning streak the east 
With first approach of light, we must be risen, 
And at our pleasant labour, to reform         625
Yon flowery arbours, yonder alleys green, 
Our walk at noon, with branches overgrown, 
That mock our scant manuring, and require 
More hands than ours to lop their wanton growth. 
Those blossoms also, and those dropping gums,         630
That lie bestrown, unsightly and unsmooth, 
Ask riddance, if we mean to tread with ease. 
Meanwhile, as Nature wills, Night bids us rest.” 
  To whom thus Eve, with perfect beauty adorned:— 
“My author and disposer, what thou bidd’st         635
Unargued I obey. So God ordains: 
God is thy law, thou mine: to know no more 
Is woman’s happiest knowledge, and her praise. 
With thee conversing, I forget all time, 
All seasons, and their 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 flower, 
Glistering with dew; fragrant the fertil Earth         645
After soft showers; and sweet the coming on 
Of grateful Evening mild; then silent Night, 
With this her solemn bird, and this fair Moon, 
And these the gems of Heaven, her starry 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, flower, 
Glistering with dew; nor fragrance after showers; 
Nor grateful Evening mild; nor silent Night, 
With her solemn bird; nor walk by moon,         655
Or glittering star-light, without thee is sweet. 
But wherefore all night long shine these? for whom 
This glorious sight, when sleep hath shut all eyes?” 
  To whom our general ancestor replied:— 
“Daughter of God and Man, accomplished Eve,         660
Those have their course to finish round the Earth 
By morrow evening, and from land to land 
In order, though to nations yet unborn, 
Ministering light prepared, they set and rise; 
Lest total Darkness should by night regain         665
Her old possession, and extinguish life 
In nature and all things; which these soft fires 
Not only enlighten, but with kindly heat 
Of various influence foment and warm, 
Temper or nourish, or in part shed down         670
Their stellar virtue on all kinds that grow 
On Earth, made hereby apter to receive 
Perfection from the Sun’s more potent ray. 
These then, though unbeheld in deep of night, 
Shine not in vain. Nor think, though men were none,         675
That Heaven 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 ceaseless 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 other’s note, 
Singing their great Creator! Oft in bands 
While they keep watch, or nightly rounding walk,         685
With heavenly touch of instrumental sounds 
In full harmonic number joined, their songs 
Divide the night, and lift our thoughts to Heaven.” 
  Thus talking, hand in hand along they passed 
On to their blissful bower. It was a place         690
Chosen by the sovran Planter, when he framed 
All things to Man’s delightful use. The roof 
Of thickest covert was inwoven shade, 
Laurel and myrtle, and what higher grew 
Of firm and fragrant leaf; on either side         695
Acanthus, and each odorous bushy shrub, 
Fenced up the verdant wall; each beauteous flower, 
Iris all hues, roses, and gessamin, 
Reared high their flourished heads between, and wrought 
Mosaic; under foot the violet,         700
Crocus, and hyacinth, with rich inlay 
Broidered the ground, more coloured than with stone 
Of costliest emblem. Other creature here, 
Beast, bird, insect, or worm, durst enter none; 
Such was their awe of Man. In shadier bower         705
More sacred and sequestered, though but feigned, 
Pan or Sylvanus never slept, nor Nymph 
For Faunus haunted. Here, in close recess, 
With flowers, garlands, and sweet—smelling hearbs 
Espousèd Eve decked first her nuptial bed,         710
And heavenly choirs the hymenæan sung, 
What day the genial Angel to our Sire 
Brought her, in naked beauty more adorned, 
More lovely, than Pandora, whom the gods 
Endowed with all their gifts; and, O! too like         715
In sad event, when, to the unwiser son 
Of Japhet brought by Hermes, she ensnared 
Mankind with her fair looks, to be avenged 
On him who had stole Jove’s authentic fire. 
  Thus at their shady lodge arrived, both stood,         720
Both turned, and under open sky adored 
The God that made both Sky, Air, Earth, and Heaven, 
Which they beheld, the Moon’s resplendent globe, 
And starry Pole:—“Thou also madest the Night, 
Maker Omnipotent; and thou the Day,         725
Which we, in our appointed work imployed, 
Have finished, happy in our mutual help 
And mutual love, the crown of all our bliss 
Ordained 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 promised from us two a race 
To fill the Earth, who shall with us extol 
Thy goodness infinite, both when we wake, 
And when we seek, as now, thy gift of sleep.”         735
  This said unanimous, and other rites 
Observing none, but adoration pure, 
Which God likes best, into their inmost bower 
Handed they went, and, eased the putting-off 
These troublesome disguises which we wear,         740
Straight side by side were laid; nor turned, I ween, 
Adam from his fair spouse, nor Eve the rites 
Mysterious of connubial love refused: 
Whatever hypocrites austerely talk 
Of purity, and place, and innocence,         745
Defaming as impure what God declares 
Pure, and commands to some, leaves free to all. 
Our Maker bids increase; who bids abstain 
But our destroyer, foe to God and Man? 
Hail, wedded Love, mysterious law, true source         750
Of human offspring, sole propriety 
In Paradise of all things common else! 
By thee adulterous lust was driven from men 
Among the bestial herds to raunge; by thee, 
Founded in reason, loyal, just, and pure,         755
Relations dear, and all the charities 
Of father, son, and brother, first were known. 
Far 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 undefiled and chaste pronounced, 
Present, or past, as saints and patriarchs used. 
Here Love his golden shafts imploys, here lights 
His constant lamp, and waves his purple wings, 
Reigns here and revels; not in the bought smile         765
Of harlots—loveless, joyless, unindeared, 
Casual fruition; nor in court amours, 
Mixed dance, or wanton mask, or midnight bal, 
Or serenate, which the starved lover sings 
To his proud fair, best quitted with disdain.         770
These, lulled by nightingales, imbracing slept, 
And on their naked limbs the flowery roof 
Showered roses, which the morn repaired. Sleep on, 
Blest pair! and, O! yet happiest, if ye seek 
No happier state, and know to know no more!         775
  Now had Night measured with her shadowy cone 
Half-way up-hill this vast sublunar vault, 
And from their ivory port the Cherubim 
Forth issuing, at the accustomed hour, stood armed 
To their 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.         785
From these, two strong and subtle Spirits he called 
That near him stood, and gave them thus in charge:— 
  “Ithuriel and Zephon, with winged speed 
Search through this Garden; leave unsearched no nook; 
But chiefly where those two fair creatures lodge,         790
Now laid perhaps asleep, secure of harm. 
This evening from the Sun’s decline arrived 
Who tells of some infernal Spirit seen 
Hitherward bent (who could have thought?), escaped 
The bars of Hell, on errand bad, no doubt:         795
Such, where ye find, seize fast, and hither bring.” 
  So saying, on he led his radiant files, 
Dazzling the moon; these to the bower direct 
In search of whom they sought. Him there they found 
Squat like a toad, close at the ear of Eve,         800
Assaying by his devilish art to reach 
The organs of her fancy, and with them forge 
Illusions as he list, phantasms and dreams; 
Or if, inspiring venom, he might taint 
The animal spirits, that from pure blood arise         805
Like gentle breaths from rivers pure, thence raise, 
At least distempered, discontented thoughts, 
Vain hopes, vain aims, inordinate desires, 
Blown up with high conceits ingendering pride. 
Him thus intent Ithuriel with his spear         810
Touched lightly; for no falsehood can endure 
Touch of celestial temper, but returns 
Of force to its own likeness. Up he starts, 
Discovered and surprised. As, when a spark 
Lights on a heap of nitrous powder, laid         815
Fit for the tun, some magazine to store 
Against a rumoured war, the smutty grain, 
With sudden blaze diffused, inflames the air; 
So started up, in his own shape, the Fiend. 
Back stept those two fair Angels, half amazed         820
So sudden to behold the griesly King; 
Yet thus, unmoved with fear, accost him soon:— 
  “Which of those rebel Spirits adjudged to Hell 
Com’st thou, escaped thy prison? and, transformed, 
Why satt’st thou like an enemy in wait,         825
Here watching at the head of these that sleep?” 
  “Know ye not, then,” said Satan, filled with scorn, 
“Know ye not me? Ye knew me once no mate 
For you, there sitting where ye durst not soar! 
Not to know me argues yourselves 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,         835
Or undiminished brightness, to be known 
As when thou stood’st in Heaven upright and pure. 
That glory then, when thou no more wast good, 
Departed from thee; and thou resemblest now 
Thy sin and place of doom obscure and foul.         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 Cherub; and his grave rebuke, 
Severe in youthful beauty, added grace         845
Invincible. Abashed the Devil stood, 
And felt how awful goodness is, and saw 
Virtue in her shape how lovely—saw, and pined 
His loss; but chiefly to find here observed 
His lustre visibly impaired; yet seemed         850
Undaunted. “If I must contend,” said he, 
“Best with the best—the sender, not the sent; 
Or all at once: more glory will be won, 
Or less be lost.” “Thy fear,” said Zephon bold, 
“Will save us trial what the least can do         855
Single against thee wicked, and thence weak.” 
  The Fiend replied not, overcome with rage; 
But, like a proud steed reined, went haughty on, 
Chaumping his iron curb. To strive or fly 
He held it vain; awe from above had quelled         860
His heart, not else dismayed. Now drew they nigh 
The western point, where those half—rounding guards 
Just met, and, closing, stood in squadron joined, 
Awaiting next command. To whom their chief, 
Gabriel, from the front thus called aloud:—         865
  “O friends, I hear the tread of nimble feet 
Hasting this way, and now by glimpse discern 
Ithuriel and Zephon through the shade; 
And with them comes a third, of regal port, 
But faded splendour wan, who by his gait         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 approached, 
And brief related whom they brought, where found,         875
How busied, in what form and posture couched. 
To whom, with stern regard, thus Gabriel spake:— 
“Why hast thou, Satan, broke the bounds prescribed 
To thy transgressions, and disturbed 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; 
Imployed, it seems to violate sleep, and those 
Whose dwelling God hath planted here in bliss?” 
  To whom thus Satan, with contemptuous brow:—         885
“Gabriel, thou hadst in Heaven the esteem of wise; 
And such I held thee; but this question asked 
Puts me in doubt. Lives there who loves his pain? 
Who would not, finding way, break loose from Hell, 
Though thither doomed? Thou wouldst thyself, no doubt,         890
And boldly venture to whatever place 
Farthest from pain, where thou mightst hope to change 
Torment with ease, and soonest recompense 
Dole with delight; which in this place I sought: 
To thee no reason, who know’st only good,         895
But evil hast not tried. And wilt object 
His will who bound us? Let him surer bar 
His iron gates, if he intends our stay 
In that dark durance. Thus much what was asked: 
The rest is true; they found me where they say;         900
But that implies not violence or harm.” 
  Thus he in scorn. The warlike Angel moved, 
Disdainfully half smiling, thus replied:— 
“O loss of one in Heaven to judge of wise, 
Since Satan fell, whom folly overthrew,         905
And now returns him from his prison scaped, 
Gravely in doubt whether to hold them wise 
Or not who ask what boldness brought him hither 
Unlicensed from his bounds in Hell prescribed! 
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 
Sevenfold, and scourge that wisdom back to Hell, 
Which taught thee yet no better that no pain         915
Can equal anger infinite provoked. 
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 than they 
Less hardy to endure? Courageous chief,         920
The first in flight from pain, hadst thou alleged 
To thy deserted host this cause of flight, 
Thou surely hadst not come sole fugitive.” 
  To which the Fiend thus answered, frowning stern:— 
“Not that I less endure, or shrink from pain,         925
Insulting Angel! well thou know’st I stood 
Thy fiercest, when in battle to thy aid 
The blasting volleyed thunder made all speed 
And seconded thy else not dreaded spear. 
But still thy words at random, as before,         930
Argue thy inexperience what behoves, 
From hard assays and ill successes past, 
A faithful leader—not to hazard all 
Through ways of danger by himself untried. 
I, therefore, I alone, first undertook         935
To wing the desolate Abyss, and spy 
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 Air;         940
Though for possession put to try once more 
What thou and thy gay legions dare against; 
Whose easier business where to serve their Lord 
High up in Heaven, with songs to hymn his throne, 
And practiced distances to cringe, not fight.”         945
  To whom the Warrior-Angel soon replied:— 
“To say and straight unsay, pretending first 
Wise to fly pain, professing next to spy, 
Argues no leader, but a liar traced, 
Satan; and couldst thou ‘faithful’ add? O name,         950
O sacred name of faithfulness profaned! 
Faithful to whom? to thy rebellious crew? 
Army of fiends, fit body to fit head! 
Was this your discipline and faith ingaged, 
Your military obedience, to dissolve         955
Allegiance to the acknowledged Power Supreme? 
And thou, sly hypocrite, who now wouldst seem 
Patron of liberty, who more than thou 
Once fawned, and cringed, and servilely adored 
Heaven’s awful Monarch? wherefore, but in hope         960
To dispossess him, and thyself to reign? 
But mark what I areed thee now: Avaunt! 
Fly thither whence thou fledd’st. If from this hour 
Within these hallowed limits thou appear, 
Back to the Infernal Pit I drag thee chained,         965
And seal thee so as henceforth not to scorn 
The facile gates of Hell too slightly barred.” 
  So threatened he; but Satan to no threats 
Gave heed, but waxing more in rage, replied:— 
  “Then, when I am thy captive, talk of chains,         970
Proud limitary Cherub! but ere then 
Far heavier load thyself expect to feel 
From my prevailing arm, though Heaven’s King 
Ride on thy wings, and thou with thy Compeers, 
Used to the yoke, draw’st his triumphant wheels         975
In progress through the road of Heaven star—paved.” 
  While thus he spake, the angelic squadron bright 
Turned fiery red, sharpening in mooned horns 
Their phalanx and began to hem 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 
Sways them; the careful ploughman doubting stands 
Lest on the threshing-floor his hopeful sheaves 
Prove chaff. On the other side, Satan, alarmed,         985
Collecting all his might, dilated stood, 
Like Teneriff or Atlas, unremoved: 
His stature reached the sky, and on his crest 
Sat Horror plumed; nor wanted in his grasp 
What seemed both spear and shield. Now dreadful deeds         990
Might have ensued; nor only Paradise, 
In this commotion, but the starry cope 
Of Heaven perhaps, or all the Elements 
At least, had gone to wrack, disturbed and torn 
With violence of this conflict, had not soon         995
The Eternal, to prevent such horrid fray, 
Hung forth in Heaven his golden scales, yet seen 
Betwixt Astræa and the Scorpion sign, 
Wherein all things created first he weighed, 
The pendulous round Earth with balanced air         1000
In counterpoise, now ponders all events, 
Battles and realms. In these he put two weights, 
The sequel each of parting and of fight: 
The latter quick up flew, and kicked the beam; 
Which Gabriel spying thus bespake the Fiend:         1005
  “Satan, I know thy strength, and thou know’st mine, 
Neither our own, but given; what folly then 
To boast what arms can do! since thine no more 
Than Heaven permits, nor mine, though doubled now 
To trample thee as mire. For proof look up,         1010
And read thy lot in yon celestial sign, 
Where thou art weighed, and shown how light, how weak 
If thou resist.” The Fiend looked up, and knew 
His mounted scale aloft: nor more; but fled 
Murmuring; and with him fled the shades of Night.         1015
 

 
Paradise Lost: The Fifth Book
 
 
  THE ARGUMENT.—Morning approached, Eve relates to Adam her troublesome dream; he likes it not, yet comforts her: they come forth to their 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 described; his coming discerned 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 choicest fruits of Paradise, got together by Eve; their discourse at table. Raphael performs his massage, minds Adam of his state and of his enemy; relates, at Adam’s request, who that enemy is, and how he came to be so, beginning from 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, persuading all but only Abdiel, a seraph, who in argument dissuades and opposes him, then forsakes him.
 
 
NOW Morn, her rosy steps in the eastern clime 
Advancing, sowed the earth with orient pearl, 
When Adam waked, so customed; for his sleep 
Was aerie light, from pure digestion bred, 
And temperate vapours bland, which the only sound         5
Of leaves and fuming rills, Aurora’s fan, 
Lightly dispersed, and the shrill matin song 
Of birds on every bough. So much the more 
His wonder was to find unwakened Eve, 
With tresses discomposed, and glowing cheek,         10
As through unquiet rest. He, on his side 
Leaning half raised, with looks of cordial love 
Hung over her enamoured, and beheld 
Beauty which, whether waking or asleep, 
Shot forth peculiar graces; then, with voice         15
Mild as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes, 
Her hand soft touching, whispered thus:—“Awake, 
My fairest, my espoused, my latest found, 
Heaven’s 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 myrrh, and what the balmy reed, 
How Nature paints her colours, how the bee 
Sits on the bloom extracting liquid sweet.”         25
  Such whispering waked her, but with startled eye 
On Adam; whom imbracing, thus she spake:— 
  “O sole in whom my thoughts find all repose, 
My glory, my perfection! glad I see 
Thy face, and morn returned; for I this night         30
(Such night till this I never passed) have dreamed, 
If dreamed, not, as I oft am wont, of thee, 
Works of day past, or morrow’s next design; 
But of offence and trouble, which my mind 
Knew never till this irksome night. Methought         35
Close at mine ear one called me forth to walk 
With gentle voice; I thought it thine. It said, 
‘Why sleep’st 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-laboured song; now reigns 
Full-orbed the moon, and, with more pleasing light, 
Shadowy sets off the face of things—in vain, 
If none regard. Heaven wakes with all his eyes; 
Whom to behold but thee, Nature’s desire,         45
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 passed through ways         50
That brought me on a sudden to the Tree 
Of interdicted Knowledge. Fair it seemed, 
Much fairer to my fancy than by day; 
And, as I wondering looked, beside it stood 
One shaped and winged like one of those from Heaven         55
By us oft seen: his dewy locks distilled 
Ambrosia. On that Tree he also gazed; 
And, ‘O fair plant,’ said he, ‘with fruit surcharged, 
Deigns none to ease thy load, and taste thy sweet, 
Nor God nor Man? Is knowledge so despised?         60
Or envy, or what reserve forbids to taste? 
Forbid who will, none shall from me withhold 
Longer thy offered good, why else set here? 
This said, he paused not, but with ventrous arm 
He plucked, he tasted. Me damp horror chilled         65
At such bold words vouched with a deed so bold; 
But he thus, overjoyed: ‘O fruit divine, 
Sweet of thyself, but much more sweet thus cropt, 
Forbidden here, it seems, as only fit 
For gods, yet able to make gods of men!         70
And why not gods of men, since good, the more 
Communicated, more abundant grows, 
The author not impaired, but honoured more? 
Here, happy creature, fair angelic Eve! 
Partake thou also: happy though thou art,         75
Happier thou may’st be, worthier canst not be. 
Taste this, and be henceforth among the gods 
Thyself a goddess; not to Earth confined, 
But sometimes in the Air; as we; sometimes 
Ascend to Heaven, 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 plucked: the pleasant savoury smell 
So quickened appetite that I, methought,         85
Could not but taste. Forthwith up to the clouds 
With him I flew, and underneath beheld 
The Earth outstretched immense, a prospect wide 
And various. Wondering at my flight and change 
To this high exaltation, suddenly         90
My guide was gone, and I, methought, sunk down, 
And fell asleep; but, O, how glad I waked 
To find this but a dream!” Thus Eve her night 
Related, and thus Adam answered sad:— 
  “Best image of myself, and dearer half,         95
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 soul         100
Are many lesser faculties, that serve 
Reason as chief. Among these Fancy next 
Her office holds; of all external things, 
Which the five watchful senses represent, 
She forms imaginations, aerie shapes,         105
Which Reason, joining or disjoining, 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 Fancy wakes         110
To imitate her; but, misjoining shapes, 
Wild work produces oft, and most in dreams, 
Ill matching words and deeds long past or late. 
Some such resemblances, methinks, I find 
Of our last evening’s talk in this thy dream,         115
But with addition strange. Yet be not sad: 
Evil into the mind of God or Man 
May come and go, so unapproved, and leave 
No spot or blame behind; which gives me hope 
That what in sleep thou didst abhor to dream         120
Waking thou never wilt consent to do. 
Be not disheartened, then, nor cloud those looks, 
That wont to be more cheerful and serene 
Than when fair Morning first smiles on the world; 
And let us to our fresh imployments rise         125
Among the groves, the fountains, and the flowers, 
That open now their choicest bosomed smells, 
Reserved from night, and kept for thee in store.” 
  So cheered he his fair spouse; and she was cheered, 
But silently a gentle tear let fall         130
From either eye, and wiped them with her hair: 
Two other precious drops that ready stood, 
Each in their crystal sluice, he, ere they fell, 
Kissed as the gracious signs of sweet remorse 
And pious awe, that feared to have offended.         135
  So all was cleared, and to the field they haste. 
But first, from under shady arborous roof 
Soon as they forth were come to open sight 
Of day-spring, and the Sun—who, scarce uprisen, 
With wheels yet hovering o’er the ocean-brim,         140
Shot parallel to the Earth his dewy ray, 
Discovering in wide lantskip all the east 
Of Paradise and Eden’s happy plains— 
Lowly they bowed, adoring, and began 
Their orisons, each morning duly paid         145
In various style; for neither various style 
Nor holy rapture wanted they to praise 
Their Maker, in fit strains pronounced, or sung 
Unmeditated; such prompt eloquence 
Flowed from their lips, in prose or numerous verse,         150
More tuneable than needed lute or harp 
To add more sweetness. And they thus began:— 
  “These are thy glorious works, Parent of good, 
Almighty! thine this universal frame, 
Thus wondrous fair: Thyself how wondrous then!         155
Unspeakable! who sitt’st 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, ye who best can tell, ye Sons of Light,         160
Angels—for ye behold him, and with songs 
And choral symphonies, day without night, 
Circle his throne rejoicing—ye in Heaven; 
On Earth join, all ye creatures, to extol 
Him first, him last, him midst, and without end.         165
Fairest of Stars, last in the train of Night, 
If better thou belong not to the Dawn, 
Sure pledge of day, that crown’st the smiling morn 
With thy bright circlet, praise him in thy sphere 
While day arises, that sweet hour of prime.         170
Thou Sun, of this great World both eye and soul, 
Acknowledge him thy Greater; sound his praise 
In thy eternal course, both when thou climb’st, 
And when high noon hast gained, and when thou fall’st. 
Moon, that now meet’st the orient Sun, now fliest,         175
With the fixed Stars, fixed in their orb that flies; 
And ye five other wandering Fires, that move 
In mystic dance, not without song, reasound 
His praise who out of Darkness called up Light. 
Air, and ye Elements, the eldest birth         180
Of Nature’s womb, that in quaternion run 
Perpetual circle, multiform, and mix 
And nourish all things, let your ceaseless change 
Vary to our great Maker still new praise. 
Ye Mists and Exhalations, that now rise         185
From hill or steaming lake, dusky or gray, 
Till the sun paint your fleecy skirts with gold, 
In honour to the World’s great Author rise; 
Whether to deck with clouds the uncoloured sky, 
Or wet the thirsty earth with falling showers,         190
Rising or falling, still advance his praise. 
His praise, ye Winds, that from four quarters blow, 
Breathe soft or loud; and wave your tops, ye Pines, 
With every Plant, in sign of worship wave. 
Fountains, and ye, that warble, as ye flow,         195
Melodious murmurs, warbling tune his praise. 
Join voices, all ye living Souls. Ye Birds, 
That, singing, up to Heaven-gate ascend, 
Bear on your wings and in your notes his praise. 
Ye that in waters glide, and ye that walk         200
The earth, and stately tread, or lowly creep, 
Witness if I be silent, morn or even, 
To hill or valley, fountain, or fresh shade, 
Made vocal by my song, and taught his praise. 
Hail, universal Lord! Be bounteous still         205
To give us only good; and, if the night 
Have gathered aught of evil, or concealed, 
Disperse it, as now light dispels the dark.” 
  So prayed they innocent, and to their thoughts 
Firm peace recovered soon, and wonted calm.         210
On to their morning’s rural work they haste, 
Among sweet dews and flowers, where any row 
Of fruit-trees, over-woody, reached too far 
Their pampered boughs, and needed hands to check 
Fruitless imbraces; or they led the vine         215
To wed her elm; she, spoused, about him twines 
Her marriageable arms, and with her brings 
Her dower, the adopted clusters, to adorn 
His barren leaves. Them thus imployed beheld 
With pity Heaven’s high King, and to him called         220
Raphael, the sociable Spirit, that deigned 
To travel with Tobias, and secured 
His marriage with the seven-times-wedded maid. 
  “Raphael,” said he, “thou hear’st what stir on Earth 
Satan, from Hell scaped through the darksome Gulf,         225
Hath raised in Paradise, and how disturbed 
This night the human pair; now he designs 
In them at once to ruin all mankind. 
Go, therefore; half this day, as friend with friend, 
Converse with Adam, in what bower or shade         230
Thou find’st him from the heat of noon retired 
To respite his day-labour with repast 
Or with repose; and such discourse bring on 
As may advise him of his happy state— 
Happiness in his power left free to will,         235
Left to his own free will, his will though free 
Yet mutable. Whence warn him to beware 
He swerve not, too secure: tell him withal 
His danger, and from whom; what enemy, 
Late fallen himself from Heaven, 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, 
Lest, wilfully transgressing, he pretend 
Surprisal, unadmonished, unforewarned.”         245
  So spake the Eternal Father, and fulfilled 
All justice. Nor delayed the winged Saint 
After his charge received; but from among 
Thousand celestial Ardours, where he stood 
Veiled with his gorgeous wings, upspringing light,         250
Flew through the midst of Heaven. The angelic quires 
On each hand parting, to his speed gave way 
Through all the empyreal road, till, at the gate 
Of Heaven arrived, the gate self-opened wide, 
On golden hinges turning, as by work         255
Divine the sovran Architect had framed. 
From hence—no cloud or, to obstruct his sight, 
Star interposed, however small—he sees, 
Not unconform to other shining globes, 
Earth, and the Garden of God, with cedars crowned         260
Above all hills; as when by night the glass 
Of Galileo, less assured, observes 
Imagined lands and regions in the Moon; 
Or pilot from amidst the Cyclades 
Delos or Samos first appearing kens,         265
A cloudy spot. Down thither prone in flight 
He speeds, and through the vast ethereal sky 
Sails between worlds and worlds, with steady wing 
Now on the polar winds; then with quick fan 
Winnows the buxom air, till, within soar         270
Of towering eagles, to all the fowls he seems 
A phœnix, gazed by all, as that sole bird, 
When, to enshrine his relics in the Sun’s 
Bright temple, to Ægyptian Thebes he flies. 
At once on the eastern cliff of Paradise         275
He lights, and to his proper shape returns, 
A Seraph winged. Six wings he wore, to shade 
His lineaments divine: the pair that clad 
Each shoulder broad came mantling o’er his breast 
With regal ornament; the middle pair         280
Girt like a starry zone his waist, and round 
Skirted his loins and thighs with downy gold 
And colours dipt in heaven; the third his feet 
Shadowed from either heel with feathered mail, 
Sky-tinctured grain. Like Maia’s son he stood,         285
And shook his plumes, that heavenly fragrance filled 
The circuit wide. Straight knew him all the bands 
Of Angels under watch, and to his state 
And to his message high in honour rise; 
For on some message high they guessed him bound.         290
Their glittering tents he passed, and now is come 
Into the blissful field, through groves of myrrh, 
And flowering odours, cassia, nard, and balm, 
A wilderness of sweets; for Nature here 
Wantoned as in her prime, and played at will         295
Her virgin fancies, pouring forth more sweet, 
Wild above rule or art, enormous bliss. 
Him, through the spicy forest onward come, 
Adam discerned, as in the door he sat 
Of his cool bower, while now the mounted Sun         300
Shot down direct his fervid rays, to warm 
Earth’s inmost womb, more warmth than Adam needs’ 
And Eve, within, due at her hour, prepared 
For dinner savoury fruits, of taste to please 
True appetite, and not disrelish thirst         305
Of nectarous draughts between, from milky stream, 
Berry or grape: to whom thus Adam called:— 
  “Haste hither, Eve, and, worth thy sight, behold 
Eastward among those trees what glorious Shape 
Comes this way moving; seems another morn         310
Risen on mid-noon. Some great behest from Heaven 
To us perhaps he brings, and will voutsafe 
This day to be our guest. But go with speed, 
And what thy stores contain bring forth, and pour 
Abundance fit to honour and receive         315
Our heavenly stranger; well may we afford 
Our givers their own gifts, and large bestow 
From large bestowed, where Nature multiplies 
Her fertile growth, and by disburdening grows 
More fruitful; which instructs us not to spare.”         320
  To whom thus Eve:—“Adam, Earth’s hallowed mould, 
Of God inspired, 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.         325
But I will haste, and from each bough and brake, 
Each plant and juiciest gourd, will pluck such choice 
To entertain our Angel-guest as he, 
Beholding, shall confess that here on Earth 
God hath dispensed his bounties as in Heaven.”         330
  So saying, with dispatchful looks in haste 
She turns, on hospitable thoughts intent 
What choice to choose for delicacy best, 
What order so contrived as not to mix 
Tastes, not well joined, inelegant, but bring         335
Taste after taste upheld with kindliest change: 
Bestirs her then, and from each tender stalk 
Whatever Earth, all-bearing mother, yields 
In India East or West, or middle shore 
In Pontus or the Punic coast, or where         340
Alcinous reigned, fruit of all kinds, in coat 
Rough or smooth-rined, or bearded husk, or shell, 
She gathers, tribute large, and on the board 
Heaps with unsparing hand. For drink the grape 
She crushes, inoffensive must, and meaths         345
From many a berry, and from sweet kernels pressed 
She tempers dulcet creams—nor those to hold 
Wants her fit vessels pure; then strews the ground 
With rose and odours from the shrub unfumed. 
  Meanwhile our primitive great Sire, to meet         350
His godlike guest, walks forth, without more train 
Accompanied than with his own complete 
Perfections; in himself was all his state, 
More solemn than the tedious pomp that waits 
On princes, when their rich retin’ue long         355
Of horses led and grooms besmeared with gold 
Dazzles the crowd and sets them all agape. 
Nearer his presence, Adam, though not awed, 
Yet with submiss approach and reverence meek, 
As to a superior nature, bowing low,         360
Thus said:—“Native of Heaven (for other place 
None can than Heaven such glorious Shape contain), 
Since, by descending from the Thrones above, 
Those happy places thou hadst deigned a while 
To want, and honour these, voutsafe with us,         365
Two only, who yet by sovran gift possess 
This spacious ground, in yonder shady bower 
To rest, and what the Garden choicest bears 
To sit and taste, till this meridian heat 
Be over, and the sun more cool decline.”         370
  Whom thus the angelic Virtue answered mild:— 
“Adam, I therefore came; nor art thou such 
Created, or such place hast here to dwell, 
As may not oft invite, though Spirits of Heaven, 
To visit thee. Lead on, then, where thy bower         375
O’ershades; for these mid-hours, till evening rise, 
I have at will. “So to the sylvan lodge 
They came, that like Pomona’s arbour smiled, 
With flowerets decked and fragrant smells. But Eve, 
Undecked, save with herself, more lovely fair         380
Than wood-nymph, or the fairest goddess feigned 
Of three that in Mount Ida naked strove, 
Stood to entertain her guest from Heaven; no veil 
She needed, virtue-proof; no thought infirm 
Altered her cheek. On whom the Angel “Hail!”         385
Bestowed—the holy salutation used 
Long after to blest Mary, second Eve:— 
  “Hail! Mother of mankind, whose fruitful womb 
Shall fill the world more numerous with thy sons 
Than with these various fruits the trees of God         390
Have heaped this table!” Raised of grassy turf 
Their table was, and mossy seats had round, 
And on her ample square, from side to side, 
All Autumn piled, though Spring and Autumn here 
Danced hand-in-hand. A while discourse they hold—         395
No fear lest dinner cool—when thus began 
Our Author:—“Heavenly Stranger, please to taste 
These bounties, which our Nourisher, from whom 
All perfect good, unmeasured-out, descends. 
To us for food and for delight hath caused         400
The Earth to yield: unsavoury 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         405
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 faculty         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 sustained and fed. Of Elements         415
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, unpurged, 
Vapours not yet into her substance turned.         420
Nor doth the Moon no nourishment exhale 
From her moist continent to higher Orbs. 
The Sun, that light imparts to all, receives 
From all his alimental recompense 
In humid exhalations, and at even         425
Sups with the Ocean. Though in Heaven the trees 
Of life ambrosial fruitage bear, and vines 
Yield nectar—though from off the boughs each morn 
We brush mellifluous dews and find the ground 
Covered 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 their viands fell; nor seemingly 
The Angel, nor in mist—the common gloss         435
Of theologians—but with keen dispatch 
Of real hunger, and concoctive heat 
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 perfect gold, 
As from the mine. Meanwhile at table Eve 
Ministered naked, and their flowing cups 
With pleasant liquors crowned. O innocence         445
Deserving Paradise! If ever, then, 
Then had the Sons of God excuse to have been 
Enamoured at that sight. But in those hearts 
Love unlibidinous reigned, nor jealousy 
Was understood, the injured lover’s hell.         450
  Thus when with meats and drinks they had sufficed, 
Not burdened nature, sudden mind arose 
In Adam not to let the occasion pass, 
Given him by this great conference, to know 
Of things above his world, and of their being         455
Who dwell in Heaven, whose excellence he saw 
Transcend his own so far, whose radiant forms, 
Divine effulgence, whose high power so far 
Exceeded human; and his wary speech 
Thus to the empyreal minister he framed:—         460
  Inhabitant with God, now know I well 
They favour, in this honour done to Man; 
Under whose lowly roof thou hast voutsafed 
To enter, and these earthly fruits to taste, 
Food not of Angels, yet accepted so         465
As that more willingly thou couldst not seem 
At Heaven’s high feasts to have fed: yet what compare!” 
  To whom the wingèd Hierarch replied:— 
“O Adam, one almighty is, from whom 
All things proceed, and up to him return,         470
If not depraved from good, created all 
Such to perfection; one first matter all, 
Indued with various forms, various degrees 
Of substance, and, in things that live, of life; 
But more refined, more spiritous and pure,         475
As nearer to him placed or nearer tending 
Each in their several active spheres assigned, 
Till body up to spirit work, in bounds 
Proportioned to each kind. So from the root 
Springs lighter the green stalk, from thence the leaves         480
More aerie, last the bright consummate flower 
Spirits odorous breathes: flowers and their fruit, 
Man’s nourishment, by gradual scale sublimed, 
To vital spirits aspire, to animal, 
To intellectual; give both life and sense,         485
Fancy and understanding; whence the Soul 
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;         495
And from these corporal nutriments, perhaps, 
Your bodies may at last turn all to spirit, 
Improved by tract of time, and winged ascend 
Ethereal, as we, or may at choice 
Here or in heavenly paradises dwell,         500
If ye be found obedient, and retain 
Unalterably firm his love entire 
Whose progeny you are. Meanwhile enjoy, 
Your fill, what happiness this happy state 
Can comprehend, incapable of more.”         505
  To whom the Patriarch of Mankind replied:— 
“O favourable Spirit, propitious guest, 
Well hast thou taught the way that might direct 
Our knowledge, and the scale of Nature set 
From centre to circumference, whereon,         510
In contemplation of created things, 
By steps we may ascend to God. But say, 
What meant that caution joined, If ye be found 
Obedient? Can we want obedience, then, 
To him, or possibly his love desert,         515
Who formed us from the dust, and placed us here 
Full to the utmost measure of what bliss 
Human desires can seek or apprehend?” 
  To whom the Angel:—“Son of Heaven and Earth, 
Attend! That thou art happy, owe to God;         520
That thou continuest such, owe to thyself, 
That is, to thy obedience; therein stand. 
This was that caution given thee; be advised. 
God made thee perfect, not immutable; 
And good he made thee; but to persevere         525
He left it in thy power—ordained thy will 
By nature free, not over-ruled by fate 
Inextricable, or strict necessity. 
Our voluntary service he requires, 
Not our necessitated. Such with him         530
Finds no acceptance, nor can find; for how 
Can hearts not free be tried whether they serve 
Willing or no, who will but what they must 
By destiny, and can no other choose? 
Myself, and all the Angelic Host, that stand         535
In sight of god enthroned, our happy state 
Hold, as you yours, while our obedience holds. 
On other surety none: freely we serve, 
Because we freely love, as in our will 
To love or not; in this we stand or fall.         540
And some are fallen, to disobedience fallen, 
And so from Heaven to deepest Hell. Of fall 
From what high state of bliss into what woe!” 
  To whom our great Progenitor:—“Thy words 
Attentive, and with more delighted ear,         545
Divine instructor, I have heard, than when 
Cherubic songs by night from neighbouring hills 
Aerial 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 
Assured me, and still assure; though what thou tell’st 
Hath passed in Heaven some doubt within me move, 
But more desire to hear, if thou consent,         555
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 finished half his journey, and scarce begins 
His other half in the great zone of heaven.”         560
  Thus Adam made request; and Raphael, 
After short pause assenting, thus began:— 
  “High matter thou injoin’st me, O prime of Men— 
Sad task and hard; for how shall I relate 
To human sense the invisible exploits         565
Of warring Spirits? how, without remorse, 
The ruin of so many, glorious once 
And perfect while they stood? how, last, unfold 
The secrets of another world, perhaps 
Not lawful to reveal? Yet for thy good         570
This is dispensed; and what surmounts the reach 
Of human sense I shall delineate so, 
By likening spiritual to corporal forms, 
As may express them best—though what if Earth 
Be but the shadow of Heaven, and things therein         575
Each to other like more than on Earth is thought! 
  “As yet this World was not, and Chaos wild 
Reigned where these heavens now rowl, where Earth now rests 
Upon her centre poised, when on a day 
(For Time, though in Eternity, applied         580
To motion, measures all things durable 
By present, past, and future), on such day 
As Heaven’s great year brings forth, the empyreal host 
Of Angels, by imperial summons called, 
Innumerable before the Almighty’s throne         585
Forthwith from all the ends of Heaven appeared 
Under their hierarchs in orders bright. 
Ten thousand thousand ensigns high advanced, 
Standards and gonfalons, ’twixt van and rear 
Stream in the air, and for distinction serve         590
Of hierarchies, of orders, and degrees: 
Or in their glittering tissues bear imblazed 
Holy memorials, acts of zeal and love 
Recorded eminent. Thus when in orbs 
Of circuit inexpressible they stood,         595
Orb within orb, the Father Infinite, 
By whom in bliss imbosomed sat the Son, 
Amidst, as from a flaming Mount, whose top 
Brightness had made invisible, thus spake: 
  “‘Hear, all ye Angels, Progeny of Light,         600
Thrones, Dominations, Princedoms, Virtues, Powers, 
Hear my decree, which unrevoked shall stand! 
This day I have begot whom I declare 
My only Son, and on this holy hill 
Him have anointed, whom ye now behold         605
At my right hand. Your head I him appoint, 
And by myself have sworn to him shall bow 
All knees in Heaven, and shall confess him Lord. 
Under his great vicegerent reign abide, 
United as one individual soul,         610
For ever happy. Him who disobeys 
Me disobeys, breaks union, and, that day, 
Cast out form God and blessed vision, falls 
Into utter darkness, deep ingulfed, his place 
Ordained without redemption, without end.’         615
  “So spake the Omnipotent, and with his words 
All seemed well pleased; all seemed, but were not all. 
That day, as other solemn days, they spent 
In song and dance about the sacred Hill— 
Mystical dance, which yonder starry sphere         620
Of planets and of fixed in all her wheels 
Resembles, nearest; mazes intricate, 
Eccentric, intervolved, yet regular 
Then most when most irregular they seem; 
And in their motions harmony divine         625
So smooths her charming tones that God’s own ear 
Listens delighted. Evening now approached 
(For we have also our evening 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 piled 
With Angels’ food; and rubied nectar flows 
In pearl, in diamond, and massy gold, 
Fruit of delicious vines, the growth of Heaven.         635
On flowers reposed, and with fresh flowerets crowned, 
They eat, they drink, and in communion sweet 
Quaff immortality and joy, secure 
Of surfeit where full measure only bounds 
Excess, before the all-bounteous King, who showered         640
With copious hand, rejoicing in their joy. 
Now when ambrosial Night, with clouds exhaled 
From that high mount of God whence light and shade 
Spring both, the face of brightest Heaven had changed 
To grateful twilight (for Night comes not there         645
In darker veil), and roseate dews disposed 
All but the unsleeping eyes of God to rest, 
Wide over all the plain, and wider far 
Than all this globous Earth in plain outspread 
(Such are the Courts of God), the Angelic throng,         650
Dispersed in bands and files, their camp extend 
By living streams among the trees of life— 
Pavilions numberless and sudden reared, 
Celestial tabernacles, where they slept, 
Fanned with cool winds; save those who, in their course,         655
Melodious hymns about the sovran Throne 
Alternate all night long. But not so waked 
Satan—so call him now; his former name 
Is heard no more in Heaven. He, of the first, 
If not the first Archangel, great in power,         660
In favour, and preëminence, yet fraught 
With envy against the Son of God, that day 
Honoured by his great Father, and proclaimed 
Messiah, King Anointed, could not bear, 
Through pride, that sight, and thought himself impaired.         665
Deep malice thence conceiving and disdain, 
Soon as midnight brought on the dusky hour 
Friendliest to sleep and silence, he resolved 
With all his legions to dislodge, and leave 
Unworshiped, unobeyed, the Throne supreme.         670
Contemptuous, and, his next subordinate 
Awakening, thus to him in secret spake:— 
  “‘Sleep’st thou, companion dear? what sleep can close 
Thy eyelids? and rememberest what decree, 
Of yesterday, so late hath passed the lips         675
Of Heaven’s Almighty? 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 imposed; 
New laws from him who reigns new minds may raise         680
In us who serve—new counsels, to debate 
What doubtful may ensue. More in this place 
To utter is not safe. Assemble thou 
Of all those myriads which we lead the chief; 
Tell them that, by command, ere yet dim Night         685
Her shadowy cloud withdraws, I am to haste, 
And all who under me their banners wave, 
Homeward with flying march where we possess 
The Quarters of the North, there to prepare 
Fit entertainment to receive our King,         690
The great Messiah, and his new commands, 
Who speedily through all the Hierarchies 
Intends to pass triumphant, and give laws.’ 
  “So spake the false Archangel, and infused 
Bad influence into the unwary breast         695
Of his associate. He 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 disincumbered Heaven,         700
The great hierarchal standard was to move; 
Tells the suggested cause, and casts between 
Ambiguous words and jealousies, to sound 
Or taint integrity. But all obeyed 
The wonted signal, and superior voice         705
Of their great Potentate; for great indeed 
His name, and high was his degree in Heaven: 
His countenance, as the morning-star that guides 
The starry flock allured them, and with lies 
Drew after him the third part of Heaven’s host.         710
Meanwhile, the Eternal Eye, whose sight discerns 
Abstrusest thoughts, from forth his holy Mount, 
And from within the golden Lamps that burn 
Nightly before him, saw without their light 
Rebellion rising—saw in whom, how spread         715
Among the Sons of Morn, what multitudes 
Were banded to oppose his high decree; 
And, smiling, to his only Son thus said:— 
  “‘Son, thou in whom my glory I behold 
In full resplendence, Heir of all my might,         720
Nearly it now concerns us to be sure 
Of our Omnipotence, and with what arms 
We mean to hold what anciently we claim 
Of deity or empire: such a foe 
Is rising, who intends to erect his throne         725
Equal to ours, throughout the spacious North; 
Nor so content, hath in his thought to try 
In battle what our power is or our right. 
Let us advise, and to this hazard draw 
With speed what force is left, and all imploy         730
In our defence, lest unawares we lose 
This our high place, our Sanctuary, our Hill.’ 
  “To whom the Son, with calm aspect and clear 
Lightening divine, ineffable, serene, 
Made answer:—’Mighty Father, thou thy foes         735
Justly hast in derision, and secure 
Laugh’st at their vain designs and tumults vain— 
Matter to me of glory, whom their hate 
Illustrates, when they see all regal power 
Given me to quell their pride, and in event         740
Know whether I be dextrous to subdue 
Thy rebels, or be found the worst in Heaven.’ 
  “So spake the Son; but Satan with his Powers 
Far was advanced on wingèd speed, an host 
Innumerable as the stars of night,         745
Or stars of morning, dew-drops which the sun 
Impearls on every leaf and every flower. 
Regions they passed, the mighty regencies 
Of Seraphim and Potentates and Thrones 
In their triple degrees—regions to which         750
All thy dominion, Adam, is no more 
Than what this garden is to all the earth 
And all the sea, from one entire globose 
Stretched into longitude; which having passed, 
At length into the limits of the North         755
They came, and Satan to his royal seat 
High on a hill, far-blazing, as a mount 
Raised on a mount, with pyramids and towers 
From diamond quarries hewn and rocks of gold— 
The palace of great Lucifer (so call         760
That structure, in the dialect of men 
Interpreted) which, not long after, he, 
Affecting all equality with God, 
In imitation of that mount whereon 
Messiah was declared in sight of Heaven,         765
The Mountain of the Congregation called; 
For thither he assembled all his train, 
Pretending so commanded to consult 
About the great reception of their King 
Thither to come, and with calumnious art         770
Of counterfeited truth thus held their ears:— 
  “‘Thrones, Dominations, Princedoms, Virtues, Powers— 
If these magnific titles yet remain 
Not merely titular, since by decree 
Another now hath to himself ingrossed         775
All power, and us eclipsed under the name 
Of King Anointed; for whom all this haste 
Of midnight march, and hurried meeting here, 
This only to consult, how we may best, 
With what may be devised of honours new,         780
Receive him coming to receive from us 
Knee-tribute yet unpaid, prostration vile! 
Too much to one! but double how endured— 
To one and to his image now proclaimed? 
But what if better counsels might erect         785
Our minds, and teach us to cast off this yoke! 
Will ye submit your necks, and choose to bend 
The supple knee? Ye will not, if I trust 
To know ye right, or if ye know yourselves 
Natives and Sons of Heaven possessed before         790
By none, and, if not equal all, yet free, 
Equally free; for orders and degrees 
Jar not with liberty, but well consist. 
Who can in reason, then, or right, assume 
Monarchy over such as live by right         795
His equals—if in power and splendour less, 
In freedom equal? or can introduce 
Law and edict on us, who without law 
Err not? much less for this to be our Lord, 
And look for adoration, to the abuse         800
Of those imperial titles which assert 
Our being ordained to govern, not to serve! 
  “Thus far his bold discourse without control 
Had audience, when, among the Seraphim, 
Abdiel, than whom none with more zeal adored         805
The Deity, and divine commands obeyed, 
Stood up, and in a flame of zeal severe 
The current of his fury thus opposed:— 
  “‘O argument blasphe’mous, false, and proud— 
Words which no ear ever to hear in Heaven         810
Expected; least of all from thee, ingrate, 
In place thyself so high above thy peers! 
Canst thou with impious obloquy condemn 
The just decree of God, pronounced and sworn, 
That to his only Son, by right endued         815
With regal sceptre, every soul in Heaven 
Shall bend the knee, and in that honour due 
Confess him rightful King? Unjust, thou say’st, 
Flatly unjust, to bind with laws the free, 
And equal over equals to let reign,         820
One over all with unsucceeded power! 
Shalt thou give law to God? shalt thou dispute 
With Him the points of liberty, who made 
Thee what Thou art, and formed the Powers of Heaven 
Such as he pleased, and circumscribed their being?         825
Yet, by experience taught, we know how good, 
And of our good and of our dignity 
How provident, he is—how far from thought 
To make us less; bent rather to exalt 
Our happy state, under one Head more near         830
United. But—to grant it thee unjust 
That equal over equals monarch reign— 
Thyself, though great and glorious, dost thou count, 
Or all angelic nature joined in one, 
Equal to him, begotten Son, by whom,         835
As by his Word, the mighty Father made 
All things, even thee, and all the Spirits of Heaven 
By him created in their bright degrees, 
Crowned them with glory, and to their glory named 
Thrones, Dominations, Princedoms, Virtues, Powers?—         840
Essential Powers; nor by his reign obscured, 
But more illustrious made; since he, the head, 
One of our number thus reduced becomes; 
His laws our laws; all honour to him done 
Returns our own. Cease, then, this impious rage,         845
And tempt not these; but hasten to appease 
The incensèd Father and the incensed Son 
While pardon may be found, in time besought.’ 
  “So spake the fervent Angel; but his zeal 
None seconded, as out of season judged,         850
Or singular and rash. Whereat rejoiced 
The Apostat, and, more haughty, thus replied:— 
  “‘That we were formed, then, say’st thou? and the work 
Of secondary hands, by task transferred 
From Father to his Son? Strange point and new!         855
Doctrine which we would know whence learned! Who saw 
When this creation was? Remember’st 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-raised         860
By our own quickening power when fatal course 
Had circled his full orb, the birth mature 
Of this our native Heaven, Ethereal Sons. 
Our puissance is our own; our own right hand 
Shall teach us highest deeds, by proof to try         865
Who is our equal. Then thou shalt behold 
Whether by supplication we intend 
Address, and to begirt the Almighty Throne 
Beseeching or besieging. This report, 
These tidings, carry to the Anointed King;         870
And fly, ere evil intercept thy flight.’ 
  “He said; and, as the sound of waters deep, 
Hoarse murmur echoed to his words applause 
Through the infinite Host. Nor less for that 
The flaming Seraph, fearless, though alone,         875
Encompassed round with foes, thus answered bold:— 
  “‘O alienate from God, O Spirit accursed, 
Forsaken of all good! I see thy fall 
Determined, and thy hapless crew involved 
In this perfidious fraud, contagion spread         880
Both of thy crime and punishment. Henceforth 
No more be troubled how to quit the yoke 
Of God’s Messiah. Those indulgent laws 
Will not be now voutsafed; other decrees 
Against thee are gone forth without recall;         885
That golden sceptre which thou didst reject 
Is now an iron rod to bruise and break 
Thy disobedience. Well thou didst advise; 
Yet not for thy advice or threats I fly 
These wicked tents devoted, lest the wrauth         890
Impendent, raging into sudden flame, 
Distinguish not: for soon expect to feel 
His thunder on thy head, devouring fire. 
Then who can created thee lamenting learn 
When who can uncreate thee thou shalt know.’         895
  “So spake the Seraph Abdiel, faithful found; 
Among the faithless faithful only he; 
Among innumerable false unmoved, 
Unshaken, unseduced, unterrified, 
His loyalty he kept, his love, his zeal;         900
Nor number nor example with him wrought 
To swerve from truth, or change his constant mind, 
Though single. From amidst them forth he passed, 
Long way through hostile scorn, which he sustained 
Superior, nor of violence feared aught;         905
And with retorted scorn his back he turned 
On those proud towers, to swift destruction doomed.” 
 

 
Paradise Lost: The Sixth Book
 
 
  THE ARGUMENT.—Raphael continues to relate how Michael and Gabriel were sent forth to battle against Satan and his Angels. The first fight described: Satan and his Powers retire under night. He calls a council; invents devilish engines, which, in the second day’s fight, put Michael and his Angels to some disorder; but they at length, pulling up mountains, overwhelmed both the force and machines of Satan. Yet, the tumult not so ending, God, on the third day, sends Messiah his Son, for whom he had reserved the glory of that victory. He, 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 prepared for them in the Deep. Messiah returns with triumph to his Father.
 
 
“ALL night the dreadless Angel, unpursued, 
Through Heaven’s wide champaign held his way, till Morn, 
Waked by the circling Hours, with rosy hand 
Unbarred the gates of Light. There is a cave 
Within the Mount of God, fast by his Throne,         5
Where Light and Darkness in perpetual round 
Lodge and dislodge by turns—which makes through Heaven 
Grateful vicissitude, like day and night; 
Light issues forth, and at the other door 
Obsequious Darkness enters, till her hour         10
To veil the heaven, though darkness there might well 
Seem twilight here. And now went forth the Morn 
Such as in highest heaven, arrayed in gold 
Empyreal; from before her vanished Night, 
Shot through with orient beams; when all the pain         15
Covered with thick embattled squadrons bright, 
Chariots, and flaming arms, and fiery steeds, 
Reflecting blaze on blaze, first met his view. 
War he perceived, war in precinct, and found 
Already known what he for news had thought         20
To have reported. Gladly then he mixed 
Among those friendly Powers, who him received 
With joy and acclamations loud, that one, 
That of so many myriads fallen yet one, 
Returned not lost. On to the sacred Hill         25
They led him, high applauded, and present 
Before the Seat supreme; from whence a voice, 
From midst a golden cloud, thus mild was heard:— 
  “‘Servant of God, well done! Well hast thou fought 
The better fight, who single hast maintained         30
Against revolted multitudes the cause 
Of truth, in word mightier than they in arms, 
And for the testimony of truth hast borne 
Universal reproach, far worse to bear 
Than violence; for this was all thy care—         35
To stand approved in sight of God, though worlds 
Judged thee perverse. The easier conquest now 
Remains thee—aided by this host of friends, 
Back on thy foes more glorious to return 
Than scorned thou didst depart: and to subdue,         40
By force who reason for their law refuse— 
Right reason for their law, and for their King 
Messiah, who by right of merit reigns. 
Go, Michael, of celestial armies prince, 
And thou, in military prowess next,         45
Gabriel; lead forth to battle these my sons 
Invincible; lead forth my armed Saints, 
By thousands and by millions ranged for fight, 
Equal in number to that godless crew 
Rebellious. Them with fire and hostile arms         50
Fearless assault; and, to the brow of Heaven 
Pursuing, drive them out from God and bliss 
Into their place of punishment, the gulf 
Of Tartarus, which ready opens wide 
His fiery chaos to receive their fall.’         55
  “So spake the Sovran Voice; and clouds began 
To darken all the Hill, and smoke to rowl 
In dusky wreaths reluctant flames, the sign 
Of wrauth awaked; nor with less dread the loud 
Ethereal trumpet from on high gan blow.         60
At which command the Powers Militant 
That stood for Heaven, in mighty quadrate joined 
Of union irresistible, moved on 
In silence their bright legions to the sound 
Of instrumental harmony, that breathed         65
Heroic ardour to adventurous deeds 
Under their godlike leaders, in the cause 
Of God and his Messiah. On they move, 
Indissolubly firm; nor obvious hill, 
Nor straitening vale, nor wood, nor stream, divides         70
Their perfect ranks; for high above the ground 
Their march was, and the passive air upbore 
Their nimble tread. As when the total kind 
Of birds, in orderly array on wing, 
Came summoned over Eden to receive         75
Their names of thee; so over many a tract 
Of Heaven they marched, and many a province wide, 
Tenfold the length of this terrene. At last 
Far in the horizon, to the north, appeared 
From skirt to skirt a fiery region, stretched         80
In battailous aspect; and, nearer view, 
Bristled with upright beams innumerable 
Of rigid spears, and helmets thronged, and shields 
Various, with boastful argument portrayed, 
The banded Powers of Satan hasting on         85
With furious expedition: for they weened 
That self-same day, by fight or by surprise, 
To win the Mount of God, and on his Throne 
To set the envier of his state, the proud 
Aspirer. But their thoughts proved fond and vain         90
In the mid-way; though strange to us it seemed 
At first that Angel should with Angel war, 
And in fierce hosting meet, who wont to meet 
So oft in festivals of joy and love 
Unanimous, as sons of one great Sire,         95
Hymning the Eternal Father. But the shout 
Of battle now began, and rushing sound 
Of onset ended soon each milder thought. 
High in the midst, exalted as a God, 
The Apostat in his sun-bright chariot sat,         100
Idol of majesty divine, enclosed 
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         105
Presented stood, in terrible array 
Of hideous length. Before the cloudy van, 
On the rough edge of battle ere it joined, 
Satan, with vast and haughty strides advanced, 
Came towering, armed in adamant and gold.         110
Abdiel that sight endured not, where he stood 
Among the mightiest, bent on highest deeds, 
And thus his own undaunted heart explores:— 
  “‘O Heaven! that such resemblance of the Highest 
Should yet remain, where faith and realty         115
Remain not! Wherefore should not strength and might 
There fail where virtue fails, or weakest prove 
Where boldest, though to sight unconquerable? 
His puissance, trusting in the Almighty’s aid, 
I mean to try, whose reason I have tried         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 foul, 
When reason hath to deal with force, yet so         125
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 
Incensed, and thus securely him defied:—         130
  “‘Proud, art thou met? Thy hope was to have reached 
The highth of thy aspiring unopposed— 
The Throne of God unguarded, and his side 
Abandoned at the terror of thy power 
Or potent tongue. Fool! not to think how vain         135
Against the Omnipotent to rise in arms; 
Who, out of smallest things, could without end 
Have raised incessant armies to defeat 
Thy folly; or with solitary hand, 
Reaching beyond all limit, at one blow,         140
Unaided could have finished thee, and whelmed 
Thy legions under darkness! But thou seest 
All are not of thy train; there be who faith 
Prefer, and piety to God, though then 
To thee not visible when I alone         145
Seemed in thy world erroneous to dissent 
From all: my Sect thou seest; now learn too late 
How few sometimes may know when thousands err.’ 
  “Whom the grand Foe, with scornful eye askance, 
Thus answered:—’Ill for thee, but in wished hour         150
Of my revenge, first sought for, thou return’st 
From flight, seditious Angel, to receive 
Thy merited reward, the first assay 
Of this right hand provoked, since first that tongue, 
Inspired with contradiction, durst oppose         155
A third part of the Gods, in synod met 
Their deities to assert: who, while they feel 
Vigour divine within them, can allow 
Omnipotence to none. But well thou com’st 
Before thy fellows, ambitious to win         160
From me some plume, that thy success may show 
Destruction to the rest. This pause between 
(Unanswered lest thou boast) to let thee know.— 
At first I thought that Liberty and Heaven 
To heavenly souls had been all one; but now         165
I see that most through sloth had rather serve, 
Ministering Spirits, trained up in feast and song; 
Such hast thou armed, the minstrelsy of heaven— 
Servility with freedom to contend, 
As both their deeds compared this day shall prove.’         170
  “To whom, in brief, thus Abdiel stern replied:— 
‘Apostat! still thou err’st, no 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,         175
Or Nature: God and Nature bid the same, 
When he who rules is worthiest, and excels 
Them whom he governs. This is servitude— 
To serve the unwise, or him who hath rebelled 
Against his worthier, as thine now serve thee,         180
Thyself not free, but to thyself enthralled; 
Yet lewdly dar’st our ministering upbraid. 
Reign thou in Hell, thy kingdom; let me serve 
In Heaven god ever blest, and His Divine 
Behests obey, worthiest to be obeyed.         185
Yet chains in Hell, not realms, expect: meanwhile, 
From me returned, 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 recoiled; the tenth on bended knee 
His massy spear upstayed: as if, on earth,         195
Winds under ground, or waters forcing way, 
Sidelong had pushed a mountain from his seat, 
Half-sunk with all his pines. Amazement seized 
The rebel Thrones, but greater rage, to see 
Thus foiled their mightiest; ours joy filled, and shout,         200
Presage of victory, and fierce desire 
Of battle: whereat Michaël bid sound 
The Archangel trumpet. Through the vast of Heaven 
It sounded, and the faithful armies rung 
Hosannah to the Highest; nor stood at gaze         205
The adverse legions, nor less hideous joined 
The horrid shock. Now storming fury rose, 
And clamour such as heard in Heaven till now. 
Was never; arms on armour clashing brayed 
Horrible discord, and the madding wheels         210
Of brazen chariots raged; dire was the noise 
Of conflict; overhead the dismal hiss 
Of fiery darts in flaming volleys flew, 
And, flying, vaulted either host with fire. 
So under fiery cope together rushed         215
Both battles main with ruinous assault 
And inextinguishable rage. All Heaven 
Resounded; and, had Earth been then, all Earth 
Had to her centre shook. What wonder, when 
Millions of fierce encountering Angels fought         220
On either side, the least of whom could yield 
These elements, and arm him with the force 
Of all their regions? How much more of power 
Army against army numberless to raise 
Dreadful combustion warring, and disturb,         225
Though not destroy, their happy native seat; 
Had not the Eternal King Omnipotent 
From his strong hold of Heaven high overruled 
And limited their might, though numbered such 
As each divided legion might have seemed         230
A numerous host, in strength, each armèd hand 
A legion! Led in fight, yet leader seemed 
Each warrior single as in chief; expert 
When to advance, or stand, or turn the sway 
Of battle, open when, and when to close         235
The ridges of grim war. No thought of flight, 
None of retreat, no unbecoming deed 
That argued fear; each on himself relied 
As only in his arm the moment lay 
Of victory. Deeds of eternal fame         240
Were done, but infinite; for wide was spread 
That war, and various: sometimes on firm ground 
A standing fight; then, soaring on main wing, 
Tormented all the air; all air seemed then 
Conflicting fire. Long time in even scale         245
The battle hung; till Satan, who that day 
Prodigious power had shown, and met in arms 
No equal, ranging through the dire attack 
Of fighting Seraphim confused, at length 
Saw where the sword of Michael smote, and felled         250
Squadrons at once: with huge two-handed sway 
Brandished aloft, the horrid edge came down 
Wide-wasting. Such destruction to withstand 
He hasted, and opposed the rocky orb 
Of tenfold adamant, his ample shield,         255
A vast circumference. At his approach 
The great Archangel from his warlike toil 
Surceased, and, glad, as hoping here to end 
Intestine war in Heaven, the Arch-foe subdued, 
Or captive dragged in chains, with hostile frown         260
And visage all inflamed, first thus began:— 
  “‘Author of Evil, unknown till thy revolt, 
Unnamed in Heaven, now plenteous as thou seest 
These acts of hateful strife—hateful to all, 
Though heaviest, by just measure, on thyself         265
And thy adherents—how hast thou disturbed 
Heaven’s blessed peace, and into Nature brought 
Misery, uncreated till the crime 
Of thy rebellion! how hast thou instilled 
Thy malice into thousands, once upright         270
And faithful, now proved false! But think not here 
To trouble holy rest; Heaven casts thee out 
From all her confines; Heaven, the seat of bliss, 
Brooks not the works of violence and war. 
Hence, then, and Evil go with thee along,         275
Thy offspring, to the place of Evil, Hell— 
Thou and thy wicked crew! there mingle broils! 
Ere this avenging sword begin thy doom, 
Or some more sudden vengeance, winged from God, 
Precipitate thee with augmented pain.’         280
  “So spake the Prince of Angels; to whom thus 
The Adversary:—’Nor think thou with wind 
Of airy threats to awe whom yet with deeds 
Thou canst not. Hast thou turned the least of these 
To flight—or, if to fall, but that they rise         285
Unvanquished—easier to transact with me 
That thou shouldst hope, imperious, and with threats 
To chase me hence? Err not that so shall end 
The strife which thou call’st evil, but we style 
The strife of glory; which we mean to win,         290
Or turn this Heaven itself into the Hell 
Thou fablest; here, however, to dwell free, 
If not to reign. Meanwhile, thy utmost force— 
And join Him named Almighty to thy aid— 
I fly not, but have sought thee far and nigh.’         295
  “They ended parle, and both addressed 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 seemed, 
Stood they or moved, in stature, motion, arms, 
Fit to decide the empire of great Heaven. 
Now waved their fiery swords, and in the air 
Made horrid circles; two broad suns their shields         305
Blazed opposite, while Expectation stood 
In horror; from each hand with speed retired, 
Where erst was thickest fight, the Angelic throng, 
And left large field, unsafe with the wind 
Of such commotion: such as (to set forth         310
Great things by small) if, Nature’s concord broke, 
Among the constellations war were sprung, 
Two planets, rushing from aspect’ malign 
Of fiercest opposition, in mid sky 
Should combat, and their jarring spheres confound.         315
Together both, with next to Almighty arm 
Uplifted imminent, one stroke they aimed 
That might determine, and not need repeat 
As not of power, at once; nor odds appeared 
In might or swift prevention. But the sword         320
Of Michaël from the armoury of God 
Was given him tempered 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 sheer; nor stayed,         325
But, with swift wheel reverse, deep entering, shared 
All his right side. Then Satan first knew pain, 
And writhed him to and fro convolved; so sore 
The griding sword with discontinuous wound 
Passed through him. But the ethereal substance closed,         330
Not long divisible; and from the gash 
A stream of nectarous humour issuing flowed 
Sanguin, such as celestial Spirits may bleed, 
And all his armour stained, erewhile so bright, 
Forthwith, on all sides, to his aid was run         335
By Angels many and strong, who interposed 
Defence, while others bore him on their shields 
Back to his chariot where it stood retired 
From off the files of war: there they him laid 
Gnashing for anguish, and despite, and shame         340
To find himself not matchless, and his pride 
Humbled by such rebuke, so far beneath 
His confidence to equal God in power. 
Yet soon he healed; for Spirits, that live throughout 
Vital in every part—not, as frail Man,         345
In entrails, heart or head, liver or reins— 
Cannot but by annihilating die; 
Nor in their liquid texture mortal wound 
Receive, no more than can the fluid air: 
All heart they live, all head, all eye, all ear,         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. 
  “Meanwhile, in other parts, like deeds deserved 
Memorial, where the might of Gabriel fought,         355
And with fierce ensigns pierced the deep array 
Of Moloch, furious king, who him defied, 
And at his chariot-wheels to drag him bound 
Threatened, nor from the Holy One of Heaven 
Refreined his tongue blasphémous, but anon,         360
Down cloven to the waist, with shattered arms 
And uncouth pain fled bellowing. On each wing 
Uriel and Raphaël his vaunting foe, 
Though huge and in a rock of diamond armed, 
Vanquished—Adramelech and Asmadai,         365
Two potent Thrones, that to be less than Gods 
Disdained, but meaner thoughts learned in their flight, 
Mangled with ghastly wounds through plate and mail. 
Nor stood unmindful Abdiel to annoy 
The atheist crew, but with redoubled blow         370
Ariel, and Arioch, and the violence 
Of Ramiel, scorched and blasted, overthrew. 
I might relate of thousands, and their names 
Eternize here on Earth; but those elect 
Angels, contented with their fame in Heaven,         375
Seek not the praise of men: the other sort, 
In might though wondrous and in acts of war, 
Nor or renown less eager, yet by doom 
Cancelled from Heaven and sacred memory, 
Nameless in dark oblivion let them dwell         380
For strength from truth divided, and from just, 
Illaudable, nought merits but dispraise 
And ignominy, yet to glory aspires, 
Vain-glorious, and through infamy seeks fame: 
Therefore eternal silence be their doom!         385
  “And now, their mightiest quelled, the battle swerved, 
With many an inroad gored; deformed rout 
Entered, and foul disorder; all the ground 
With shivered armour strown, and on a heap 
Chariot and charioter lay overturned,         390
And fiery foaming steeds; what stood recoiled, 
O’er-wearied, through the faint Satanic host, 
Defensive scarce, or with pale fear surprised— 
Then first with fear surprised and sense of pain— 
Fled ignominious, to such evil brought         395
By sin of disobedience, till that hour 
Not liable to fear, or flight, or pain. 
Far otherwise the inviolable Saints 
In cubic phalanx firm advanced entire, 
Invulnerable, impenetrably armed;         400
Such high advantages their innocence 
Gave them above their foes—not to have sinned, 
Not to have disobeyed; in fight they stood 
Unwearied, unobnoxious to be pained 
By wound, though from their place by violence moved.         405
  “Now Night her course began, and, over Heaven 
Inducing darkness, grateful truce imposed, 
And silence on the odious din of war. 
Under her cloudy covert both retired, 
Victor and Vanquished. On the foughten field         410
Michael and his Angels, prevalent 
Encamping, placed in guard their watches round, 
Cherubic waving fires: on the other part, 
Satan with his rebellious disappeared, 
Far in the dark dislodged, and, void of rest,         415
His Potentates to council called by night, 
And in the midst thus undismayed began:— 
  “‘O now in danger tried, now known in arms 
Not to be overpowered, companions dear, 
Found worthy not of liberty alone—         420
Too mean pretence—but, what we more affect, 
Honour, dominion, glory and renown; 
Who have sustained one day in doubtful fight 
(And, if one day, why not eternal days?) 
What Heaven’s Lord had powerfullest to send         425
Against us from about his Throne, and judged 
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 armed,         430
Some disadvantage we endured, and pain— 
Till now not known, but, known, as soon contemned; 
Since now we find this our empyreal form 
Incapable of mortal injury, 
Imperishable, and, though pierced with wound,         435
Soon closing, and by native vigour healed. 
Of evil, then, so small as easy think 
The remedy: perhaps more valid arms, 
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 superior, while we can preserve 
Unhurt our minds, and understanding sound, 
Due search and consultation will disclose,’         445
  “He sat; and in the assembly next upstood 
Nisroch, of Principalities the prime. 
As one he stood escaped from cruel fight 
Sore toiled, his riven arms to havoc hewn, 
And, cloudy 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 arms to fight in pain, 
Against unpained, impassive; from which evil         455
Ruin must needs ensue. For what avails 
Valour or strength, though matchless, quelled 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 perfect misery, the worst 
Of evils, and, excessive, overturns 
All patience. He who, therefore, can invent 
With what more forcible we may offend         465
Our yet unwounded enemies, or arm 
Ourselves with like defence, to me deserves 
No less than for deliverance what we owe.’ 
  “Whereto, with look composed, Satan replied:— 
‘Not uninvented that, which thou aright         470
Believ’st 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 Heaven, adorned 
With plant, fruit, flower ambrosial, gems and gold—         475
Whose eye so superficially surveys 
These things as not to mind from whence they grow 
Deep under ground: materials dark and crude, 
Of spirituous and fiery spume, till, touched 
With Heaven’s ray, and tempered, they shoot forth         480
So beauteous, opening to the ambient light? 
These in their dark nativity the Deep 
Shall yield us, pregnant with infernal flame; 
Which, into hollow engines long and round 
Thick-rammed, at the other bore with touch of fire         485
Dilated and infuriate, shall send forth 
From far, with thundering noise, among our foes 
Such implements of mischief as shall dash 
To pieces and o’erwhelm whatever stands 
Adverse, that they shall fear we have disarmed         490
The Thunderer of his only dreaded bolt. 
Nor long shall be our labour; yet ere dawn 
Effect shall end our wish. Meanwhile revive; 
Abandon fear; to strength and counsel joined 
Think nothing hard, much less to be despaired.’         495
  “He ended; and his words their drooping cheer 
Enlightened, and their languished hope revived. 
The invention all admired, and each how he 
To be the inventor missed; so easy it seemed, 
Once found, which yet unfound most would have thought         500
Impossible! Yet, haply, of thy race, 
In future days, if malice should abound, 
Some one, intent on mischief, or inspired 
With devilish machination, might devise 
Like instrument to plague the sons of men         505
For sin, on war and mutual slaughter bent. 
Forthwith from council to the work they flew; 
None arguing stood; innumerable hands 
Were ready; in a moment up they turned 
Wide the celestial soil, and saw beneath         510
The originals of Nature in their crude 
Conception; sulphurous and nitrous foam 
They found, they mingled, and, with subtle art 
Concocted and adusted, they reduced 
To blackest grain, and into store conveyed.         515
Part hidden veins digged up (nor hath this Earth 
Entrails unlike) of mineral and stone, 
Whereof to found their engines and their 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 finished, and in order set, 
With silent circumspection, unespied. 
  “Now, when fair Morn orient in Heaven appeared, 
Up rose the victor Angels, and to arms         525
The matin trumpet sung. In arms they stood 
Of golden panoply, refulgent host, 
Soon banded; others from the dawning hills 
Looked round, and scouts each coast light-armèd scour, 
Each quarter, to descry the distant foe,         530
Where lodged, or whither fled, or if for fight, 
In motion or in halt. Him soon they met 
Under spread ensigns moving nigh, in slow 
But firm battalion: back with speediest sail 
Zophiel, of Cherubim the swiftest wing,         535
Came flying, and in mid air aloud thus cried:— 
  “‘Arm, Warriors, arm 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 settled in his face I see         540
Sad resolution and secure. Let each 
His adamantine coat gird well, and each 
Fit well his helm, gripe fast his orbèd shield, 
Borne even or high; for this day will pour down, 
If I conjecture aught, no drizzling shower,         545
But rattling storm of arrows barbed with fire.’ 
  “So warned he them, aware themselves, and soon 
In order, quit of all impediment. 
Instant, without disturb, they took alarm, 
And onward more embattled: when, behold,         550
Not distant far, with heavy pace the Foe 
Approaching gross and huge, in hollow cube 
Training his devilish enginery, impaled 
On every side with shadowing squadrons deep, 
To hide the fraud. At interview both stood         555
A while; but suddenly at head appeared 
Satan, and thus was heard commanding loud:— 
  “‘Vanguard, to right and left the front unfold, 
That all may see who hate us how we seek 
Peace and composure, and with open breast         560
Stand ready to receive them, if they like 
Our overture, and turn not back perverse: 
But that I doubt. However, witness Heaven! 
Heaven, witness thou anon! while we discharge 
Freely our part. Ye, who appointed stand,         565
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 retired;         570
Which to our eyes discovered, new and strange, 
A triple mounted row of pillars laid 
On wheels (for like to pillars most they seemed, 
Or hollowed bodies made of oak or fir, 
With branches lopt, in wood or mountain felled),         575
Brass, iron, stony mould, had not their mouths 
With hideous orifice gaped 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 amused. 
Not long! for sudden all at once their reeds 
Put forth, and to a narrow vent applied 
With nicest touch. Immediate in a flame, 
But soon obscured with smoke, all Heaven appeared,         585
From those deep-throated engines belched, whose roar 
Embowelled with outrageous noise the air, 
And all her entrails tore, disgorging foul 
Their devilish glut, chained thunderbolts and hail 
Of iron globes; which, on the Victor Host         590
Levelled, with such impetuous fury smote, 
That whom they hit none on their feet might stand, 
Though standing else as rocks, but down they fell 
By thousands, Angel on Archangel rowled, 
The sooner for their arms. Unarmed, they might         595
Have easily, as Spirits, evaded swift 
By quick contraction or remove; but now 
Foul dissipation followed, and forced rout; 
Nor served it to relax their serried files. 
What should they do? If on they rushed, repulse         600
Repeated, and indecent overthrow 
Doubled, would render them yet more despised, 
And to their foes a laughter—for in view 
Stood ranked of Seraphim another row, 
In posture to displode their second tire         605
Of thunder; back defeated to return 
They worse abhorred. Satan beheld their plight, 
And to his mates thus in derision called:— 
  “‘O friends, why come not on these victors proud? 
Erewhile they fierce were coming; and, when we,         610
To entertain them fair with open front 
And breast (what could we more?), propounded terms 
Of composition, straight they changed their minds, 
Flew off, and into strange vagaries fell, 
As they would dance. Yet for a dance they seemed         615
Somewhat extravagant and wild; perhaps 
For joy of offered 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 gamesome mood:         620
‘Leader, the terms we sent were terms of weight, 
Of hard contents, and full of force urged home, 
Such as we might perceive amused them all, 
And stumbled many. Who receives them right 
Had need from head to foot well understand;         625
Not understood, this gift they have besides— 
They shew us when our foes walk not upright.’ 
  “So they among themselves in pleasant vein 
Stood scoffing, heightened in their thoughts beyond 
All doubt of victory; Eternal Might         630
To match with their inventions they presumed 
So easy, 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, and found them arms         635
Against such hellish mischief fit to oppose. 
Forthwith (behold the excellence, the power, 
Which God hath in his mighty Angels placed!) 
Their arms away they threw, and to the hills 
(For Earth hath this variety from Heaven         640
Of pleasure situate in hill and dale) 
Light as the lightning-glimpse they ran, they flew, 
From their foundations, loosening to and fro, 
They plucked the seated hills, with all their load, 
Rocks, waters, woods, and, by the shaggy tops         645
Uplifting, bore them in their hands. Amaze, 
Be sure, and terror, seized the rebel Host, 
When coming towards them so dread they saw 
The bottom of the mountains upward turned, 
Till on those cursed engines’ triple row         650
They saw them whelmed, and all their confidence 
Under the weight of mountains buried deep; 
Themselves invaded next, and on their heads 
Main promontories flung, which in the air 
Came shadowing, and oppressed whole legions armed.         655
Their armour helped their harm, crushed in and bruised, 
Into their substance pent—which wrought them pain 
Implacable, and many a dolorous groan, 
Long struggling 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 arms 
Betook them, and the neighbouring hills uptore; 
So hills amid the air encountered hills, 
Hurled to and fro with jaculation dire,         665
That underground they fought in dismal shade: 
Infernal noise! war seemed a civil game 
To this uproar; horrid confusion heaped 
Upon confusion rose. And now all Heaven 
Had gone to wrack, with ruin overspread,         670
Had not the Almighty Father, where he sits 
Shrined in his sanctuary of Heaven secure, 
Consulting on the sum of things, foreseen 
This tumult, and permitted all, advised, 
That his great purpose he might so fulfil,         675
To honour his Anointed Son, avenged 
Upon his enemies, and to declare 
All power on him transferred. Whence to his Son, 
The assessor of his Throne, he thus began:— 
  “‘Effulgence of my glory, Son beloved,         680
Son in whose face invisible is beheld 
Visibly, what by Deity I am, 
And in whose hand what by decree I do, 
Second Omnipotence! two days are passed, 
Two days, as we compute the days of Heaven,         685
Since Michael and his Powers went forth to tame 
These disobedient. Sore hath been their fight, 
As likeliest was when two such foes met armed: 
For to themselves I left them; and thou know’st 
Equal in their creation they were formed,         690
Save what sin hath impaired—which yet hath wrought 
Insensibly, for I suspend their doom: 
Whence in perpetual fight they needs must last 
Endless, and no solution will be found. 
War wearied hath performed what war can do,         695
And to disordered rage let loose the reins, 
With mountains, as with weapons, armed; which makes 
Wild work in Heaven, and dangerous to the main. 
Two days are, therefore, passed; the third is thine: 
For thee I have ordained it, and thus far         700
Have suffered, that the glory may be thine 
Of ending this great war, since none but thou 
Can end it. Into thee such virtue and grace 
Immense I have transfused, that all may know 
In Heaven and Hell thy power above compare,         705
And this perverse commotion governed 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 Father’s might;         710
Ascend my chariot; guide the rapid wheels 
That shake Heaven’s basis; bring forth all my war; 
My bow and thunder, my Almighty arms, 
Gird on, and sword upon thy puissant thigh; 
Pursue these Sons of Darkness, drive them out         715
From all Heaven’s 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 rays direct 
Shon full. He all his Father full expressed         720
Ineffably into his face received; 
And thus the Filial Godhead answering spake:— 
  “‘O Father, O Supreme of Heavenly Thrones, 
First, Highest, Holiest, Best, thou always seek’st 
To glorify thy Son; I always thee,         725
As is most just. This I my glory account, 
My exaltation, and my whole delight, 
That thou in me, well pleased, declar’st thy will 
Fulfilled, which to fulfil is all my bliss. 
Sceptre 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 me all whom thou lov’st. 
But whom thou hat’st I hate, and can put on 
Thy terrors, as I put thy mildness on,         735
Image of thee in all things: and shall soon, 
Armed with thy might, rid Heaven of these rebelled, 
To their prepared ill mansion driven down, 
To chains of darkness and the undying Worm, 
That from thy just obedience could revolt,         740
Whom to obey is happiness entire. 
Then shall thy Saints, unmixed, and from the impure 
Far separate, circling thy holy Mount, 
Unfeigned halleluiahs to thee sing, 
Hymns of high praise, and I among them chief,’         745
  “So said, He, o’er his sceptre bowing, rose 
From the right hand of Glory where He sat; 
And the third sacred morn began to shine, 
Dawning through Heaven. Forth rushed with whirlwind sound 
The chariot of Paternal Deity,         750
Flashing thick flames, wheel within wheel; undrawn, 
Itself instinct with spirit, but convoyed 
By four cherubic Shapes. Four faces each 
Had wondrous; as with stars, their bodies all 
And wings were set with eyes; with eyes the wheels         755
Of beryl, and careering fires between; 
Over their heads a crystal firmament, 
Whereon a sapphire throne, inlaid with pure 
Amber and colours of the showery arch. 
He, in celestial panoply all armed         760
Of radiant Urim, work divinely wrought, 
Ascended; at his right hand Victory 
Sat eagle-winged; beside him hung his bow, 
And quiver, with three-bolted thunder stored; 
And from about him fierce effusion rowled         765
Of smoke and bickering flame and sparkles dire. 
Attended with ten thousand Saints, 
He onward came; far off his coming shon; 
And twenty thousand (I their number heard) 
Chariots of God, half on each hand, were seen.         770
He on the wings of Cherub rode sublime 
On the crystallin sky, in saphir throned— 
Illustrious far and wide, but by his own 
First seen. Them unexpected joy surprised 
When the great ensign of Messiah blazed         775
Aloft, by Angels borne, his Sign in Heaven; 
Under whose conduct Michael soon reduced 
His army, circumfused on either wing, 
Under their Head embodied all in one. 
Before him Power Divine his way prepared;         780
At his command the uprooted hills retired 
Each to his place; they heard his voice, and went 
Obsequious; Heaven his wonted face renewed, 
And with fresh flowerets hill and valley smiled. 
  “This saw his hapless foes, but stood obdured,         785
And to rebellious fight rallied their Powers, 
Insensate, hope conceiving from despair. 
In Heavenly Spirits could such perverseness dwell? 
But to convince the proud what signs avail, 
Or wonders move the obdurate to relent?         790
They, hardened more by what might most reclaim, 
Grieving to see his glory, at the sight 
Took envy, and, aspiring to his highth, 
Stood re-imbattled fierce, by force or fraud 
Weening to prosper, and at length prevail         795
Against God and Messiah, or to fall 
In universal ruin last; and now 
To final battle 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 armed; this day from battle rest. 
Faithful hath been your warfare, and of God 
Accepted, fearless in his righteous cause; 
And, as ye have received, so have ye done,         805
Invincibly. But of this cursed crew 
The punishment to other hand belongs; 
Vengeance is his, or whose He sole appoints. 
Number to this day’s work is not ordained, 
Nor multitude; stand only and behold         810
God’s indignation on these godless poured 
By me. Not you, but me, they have despised, 
Yet envied; against me is all their rage, 
Because the Father, to whom in Heaven supreme 
Kingdom and power and glory appertains,         815
Hath honoured me, according to his will. 
Therefore to me their doom he hath assigned, 
That they may have their wish, to try with me 
In battle 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 excels; 
Nor other strife with them do I voutsafe.’ 
  “So spake the Son, and into terror changed 
His countenance, too severe to be beheld,         825
And full of wrauth bent on his enemies. 
At once the Four spread out their starry wings 
With dreadful shade continguous, and the orbs 
Of his fierce chariot rowled, as with the sound 
Of torrent floods, or of a numerous host.         830
He on his impious foes right onward drove, 
Gloomy as Night. Under his burning wheels 
The steadfast Empyrean shook throughout, 
All but the Throne itself of God. Full soon 
Among them he arrived, in his right hand         835
Grasping ten thousand thunders, which he sent 
Before him, such as in their souls infixed 
Plagues. They, astonished, all resistance lost, 
All courage; down their idle weapons dropt; 
O’er shields, and helms, and helmed heads he rode         840
Of Thrones and mighty Seraphim prostate, 
That wished 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-visaged Four,         845
Distinct with eyes, and from the living wheels, 
Distinct alike with multitude of eyes; 
One spirit in them ruled, and every eye 
Glared lightning, and shot forth pernicious fire 
Among the accursed, that withered all their strength,         850
And of their wonted vigour left them drained, 
Exhausted, spiritless, afflicted, fallen, 
Yet half his strength he put not forth, but checked 
His thunder in mid-volley; for he meant 
Not to destroy, but root them out of Heaven.         855
The overthrown he raised, and, as a herd 
Of goats or timorous flock together thronged, 
Drove them before him thunderstruck, pursued 
With terrors and with furies to the bounds 
And crystal wall of Heaven; which, opening wide,         860
Rowled inward, and a spacious gap disclosed 
Into the wasteful Deep. The monstrous sight 
Strook them with horror backward; but far worse 
Urged them behind: headlong themselves they threw 
Down from the verge of Heaven: eternal wrauth         865
Burnt after them to the bottomless pit. 
  “Hell heard the unsufferable noise; Hell saw 
Heaven ruining from Heaven, and would have fled 
Affrighted; but strict Fate had cast too deep 
Her dark foundations, and too fast had bound.         870
Nine days they fell; confounded Chaos roared, 
And felt tenfold confusion in their fall 
Through his wild Anarchy; so huge a rout 
Incumbered him with ruin. Hell at last, 
Yawning, received them whole, and on them closed—         875
Hell, their fit habitation, fraught with fire 
Unquenchable, the house of woe and pain. 
Disburdened Heaven rejoiced, and soon repaired 
Her mural breach, returning whence it rowled. 
Sole victor, from the expulsion of his foes         880
Messiah his triumphal chariot turned. 
To meet him all his Saints, who silent stood 
Eye-witnesses of His Almighty acts, 
With jubilee advanced; and, as they went, 
Shaded with branching palm, each order bright         885
Sung triumph, and him sung victorious King, 
Son, Heir, and Lord, to him dominion given, 
Worthiest to reign. He celebrated rode 
Triumphant through mid Heaven, into the courts 
And temple of his mighty Father throned         890
On high; who into glory him received, 
Where now he sits at the right hand of bliss. 
  “Thus measuring things in Heaven by things on Earth, 
At thy request, and that thou may’st beware 
By what is past, to thee I have revealed         895
What might have else to human race been hid— 
The discord which befell, and war in Heaven 
Among the Angelic Powers, and the deep fall 
Of those too high aspiring who rebelled 
With Satan: he who envies now thy state,         900
Who now is plotting how he may seduce 
Thee also from obedience, that, with him 
Bereaved of happiness, thou may’st partake 
His punishment, eternal misery; 
Which would be all his solace and revenge,         905
As a despite done against the Most High, 
Thee once to gain companion of his woe. 
But listen not to his temptations; warn 
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.”

Paradise Lost: The Seventh Book
 
 
  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, declared 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 days: the Angels celebrate with hymns the performance thereof, and his reascension into Heaven.
 
 
DESCEND from Heaven, Urania, by that name 
If rightly thou art called, whose voice divine 
Following, above the Olympian hill I soar, 
Above the flight of Pegasean wing! 
The meaning, not the name, I call; for thou         5
Nor of the Muses nine, nor on the top 
Of old Olympus dwell’st; but, heavenly—born, 
Before the hills appeared or fountain flowed, 
Thou with Eternal Wisdom didst converse, 
Wisdom thy sister, and with her didst play         10
In presence of the Almighty Father, pleased 
With thy celestial song. Up led by thee, 
Into the Heaven of Heavens I have presumed, 
An earthly guest, and drawn empyreal air, 
Thy tempering. With like safety guided down,         15
Return me to my native element; 
Lest, from this flying steed unreined (as once 
Bellerophon, though from a lower clime) 
Dismounted, on the Aleian field I fall, 
Erroneous there to wander and forlorn.         20
Half yet remains unsung, but narrower bound 
Within the visible Diurnal Sphere. 
Standing on Earth, not rapt above the pole, 
More safe I sing with mortal voice, unchanged 
To hoarse or mute, though fallen on evil days,         25
On evil days though fallen, and evil tongues, 
In darkness, and with dangers compassed 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 far off the barbarous dissonance 
Of Bacchus and his revellers, the race 
Of that wild rout that tore the Thracian Bard 
In Rhodope, where woods and rocks had ears         35
To rapture, till the savage clamour drowned 
Both harp and voice; nor could the Muse defend 
Her son. So fail not thou who thee implores; 
For thou art heavenly, she an empty dream. 
  Say, Goddess, what ensued when Raphael,         40
The affable Archangel, had forewarned 
Adam, by dire example, to beware 
Apostasy, by what befell in Heaven 
To those apostates, lest the like befall 
In Paradise to Adam or his race,         45
Charged not to touch the interdicted Tree, 
If they transgress, and slight that sole command, 
So easily obeyed amid the choice 
Of all tastes else to please their appetite, 
Though wandering. He, with his consorted Eve,         50
The story heard attentive, and was filled 
With admiration and deep muse, to hear 
Of things so high and strange—things to their thought 
So unimaginable as hate in Heaven, 
And was so near the peace of God in bliss,         55
With such confusion; but the evil, soon 
Driven back, redounded as a flood on those 
From whom it sprung, impossible to mix 
With blessedness. Whence Adam soon repealed 
The doubts that in his heart arose; and, now         60
Led on, yet sinless, with desire to know 
What nearer might concern him—how this World 
Of heaven and earth conspicuous first began; 
When, and whereof, created; for what cause; 
What within Eden, or without, was done         65
Before his memory—as one whose drouth, 
Yet scarce allayed, still eyes the current stream, 
Whose liquid murmur heard new thirst excites, 
Proceeded thus to ask his Heavenly Guest:— 
  “Great things, and full of wonder in our ears,         70
Far differing from this World, thou hast revealed, 
Divine Interpreter! by favour sent 
Down from the Empyrean to forewarn 
Us timely of what might else have been our loss, 
Unknown, which human knowledge could not reach;         75
For which to the infinitely Good we owe 
Immortal thanks, and his admonishment 
Receive with solemn purpose to observe 
Immutably his sovran will, the end 
Of what we are. But, since thou hast voutsafed         80
Gently, for our instruction, to impart 
Things above Earthly thought, which yet concerned 
Our knowing, as to highest Wisdom seemed, 
Deign to descend now lower, and relate 
What may no less perhaps avail us known—         85
How first began this Heaven which we behold 
Distant so high, with moving fires adorned 
Innumerable; and this which yields or fills 
All space, the ambient Air, wide interfused, 
Imbracing round this florid Earth; what cause         90
Moved the Creator, in his holy rest 
Through all eternity, so late to build 
In Chaos; and, the work begun, how soon 
Absolved: if unforbid thou may’st unfold 
What we not to explore the secrets ask         95
Of his eternal empire, but the more 
To magnify his works the more we know. 
And the great Light of Day yet wants to run 
Much of his race, though steep. Suspense in heaven 
Held by thy voice, thy potent voice he hears         100
And longer will delay, to hear thee tell 
His generation, and the rising birth 
Of Nature from the unapparent Deep: 
Or, if the Star of Evening and the Moon 
Haste to thy audience, Night with her will bring         105
Silence, and Sleep listening to thee will watch; 
Or we can bid his absence till thy song 
End, and dismiss thee ere the morning shine.” 
  Thus Adam his illustrious guest besought; 
And thus the godlike Angel answered mild:—         110
  “This also thy request, with caution asked, 
Obtain; though to recount Almighty 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         115
To glorify the Maker, and infer 
Thee also happier, shall not be withheld 
Thy hearing. Such commission from above 
I have received, to answer thy desire 
Of knowledge within bounds; beyond abstain         120
To ask, nor let thine own inventions hope 
Things not revealed, which the invisible King, 
Only Omniscient, hath suppressed in night, 
To none communicable in Earth or Heaven, 
Enough is left besides to search and know;         125
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 surfeit, and soon turns 
Wisdom to folly, as nourishment to wind.         130
  “Know then that, after Lucifer from Heaven 
(So call him, brighter once amidst the host 
Of Angels then that star the stars among) 
Fell with his flaming Legions through the Deep 
Into his place, and the great Son returned         135
Victorious with his Saints, the Omnipotent 
Eternal Father from his Throne beheld 
Their multitude, and to his Son thus spake:— 
  “‘At least our envious foe hath failed, who thought 
All like himself rebellious; by whose aid         140
This inaccessible high strength, the seat 
Of Deity supreme, us dispossessed, 
He trusted to have seized, and into fraud 
Drew many whom their place knows here no more. 
Yet far the greater part have kept, I see,         145
Their station; Heaven, yet populous, retains 
Number sufficient to possess her realms, 
Though wide, and this high temple to frequent 
With ministeries due and solemn rites. 
But, lest his heart exalt him in the harm         150
Already done, to have dispeopled Heaven— 
My damage fondly deemed—I can repair 
That detriment, if such it be to lose 
Self-lost, and in a moment will create 
Another world; out of one man a race         155
Of men innumerable, there to dwell, 
Not here, till, by degrees of merit raised, 
They open to themselves at length the way 
Up hither, under long obedience tried, 
And Earth be changed to Heaven, and Heaven to Earth,         160
One kingdom, joy and union without end. 
Meanwhile inhabit lax, ye Powers of Heaven; 
And thou, my Word, begotten Son, by thee 
This I perform; speak thou, and be it done! 
My overshadowing Spirit and might with thee         165
I send along; ride forth, and bid the Deep 
Within appointed bounds be heaven and earth. 
Boundless the Deep, because I am who fill 
Infinitude; nor vacuous the space, 
Though I, uncircumscribed, myself retire,         170
And put not forth my goodness, which is free 
To act or not. Necessity and Chance 
Approach not me, and what I will is Fate.’ 
  “So spake the Almighty; and to what he spake 
His Word, the Filial Godhead, gave effect.         175
Immediate are the acts of God, more swift 
Than time or motion, but to human ears 
Cannot without process’ of speech be told, 
So told as earthly notion can receive. 
Great triumph and rejoicing was in Heaven         180
When such was heard declared the Almighty’s will. 
Glory they sung to the Most High, goodwill 
To future men, and in their dwellings peace— 
Glory to Him whose just avenging ire 
Had driven out the ungodly from his sight         185
And the habitations of the just; to Him 
Glory and praise whose wisdom had ordained 
Good out of evil to create—instead 
Of Spirits malign, a better Race to bring 
Into their vacant room, and thence diffuse         190
His good to worlds and ages infinite. 
  “So sang the Hierarchies. Meanwhile the Son 
On his great expedition now appeared, 
Girt with omnipotence, with radiance crowned 
Of majesty divine, sapience and love         195
Immense; and all his Father in him shon. 
About his chariot numberless were poured 
Cherub and Seraph, Potentates and Thrones, 
And Virtues, winged Spirits, and chariots winged 
From the armoury of God, where stand of old         200
Myriads, between two brazen mountains lodged 
Against a solemn day, harnessed at hand, 
Celestial equipage; and now came forth 
Spontaneous, for within them Spirit lived, 
Attendant on their Lord. Heaven opened wide         205
Her ever-during gates, harmonious sound 
On golden hinges moving, to let forth 
The King of Glory, in his powerful Word 
And Spirit coming to create new worlds. 
On Heavenly ground they stood, and from the shore         210
They viewed the vast immeasurable Abyss, 
Outrageous as a sea, dark, wasteful, wild, 
Up from the bottom turned by furious winds 
And surging waves, as mountains to assault 
Heaven’s highth, and with the centre mix the pole.         215
  “‘Silence, ye troubled waves, and, thou Deep, peace!’ 
Said then the omnific Word: ‘your discord end!’ 
Nor stayed; but, on the wings of Cherubim 
Uplifted, in paternal glory rode 
Far into Chaos and the World unborn;         220
For Chaos heard his voice. Him all his train 
Followed in bright procession, to behold 
Creation, and the wonders of his might. 
Then stayed the fervid wheels, and in his hand 
He took the golden compasses, prepared         225
In God’s eternal store, to circumscribe 
This Universe, and all created things. 
One foot he centred, and the other turned 
Round through the vast profundity obscure, 
And said, ‘Thus far extend, thus far thy bounds;         230
This be thy just circumference, O World! 
Thus God the Heaven created, thus the Earth, 
Matter unformed and void. Darkness profound 
Covered the Abyss; but on the watery calm 
His brooding wings the Spirit of God outspread,         235
And vital virtue infused, and vital warmth, 
Throughout the fluid mass, but downward purged 
The black, tartareous, cold, infernal dregs, 
Adverse to life; then founded, then conglobed, 
Like things to like, the rest to several place         240
Disparted, and between spun out the Air, 
And Earth, self-balanced, on her centre hung. 
  “‘Let there be Light!” said God; and forthwith Light 
Ethereal, first of things, quintessence pure, 
Sprung from the Deep, and from her native East         245
To journey through the aery gloom began, 
Sphered in a radiant cloud—for yet the Sun 
Was not; she in a cloudy tabernacle 
Sojourned the while. God saw the Light was good; 
And light from darkness by the hemisphere         250
Divided: Light the Day, and Darkness Night, 
He named. Thus was the first Day even and morn; 
Nor passed uncelebrated, nor unsung 
By the celestial quires, when orient light 
Exhaling first from darkness they beheld,         255
Birth-day of Heaven and Earth. With joy and shout 
The hollow universal orb they filled, 
And touched their golden harps, and hymning praised 
God and his works; Creator him they sung, 
Both when first evening was, and when first morn.         260
  “Again God said, ‘Let there 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, diffused         265
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 he the World 
Built on circumfluous waters calm, in wide         270
Crystallin ocean, and the loud misrule 
Of Chaos far removed, lest fierce extremes 
Contiguous might distemper the whole frame: 
And Heaven he named the Firmament. So even 
And morning chorus sung the second Day.         275
  “The Earth was formed, but, in the womb as yet 
Of waters, embryon immature, involved, 
Appeared not; over all the face of Earth 
Main ocean flowed, not idle, but, with warm 
Prolific humour softening all her globe,         280
Fermented the great Mother to conceive, 
Satiate with genial moisture; when God said, 
‘Be gathered now, ye waters under heaven, 
Into one place, and let dry land appear!’ 
Immediately the mountains huge appear         285
Emergent, and their broad bare backs upheave 
Into the clouds; their tops ascend the sky. 
So high as heaved the tumid hills, so low 
Down sunk a hollow bottom broad and deep, 
Capacious bed of waters. Thither they         290
Hasted with glad precipitance, uprowled, 
As drops on dust conglobing, from the dry: 
Part rise in crystal wall, or ridge direct, 
For haste; such flight the great command impressed 
On the swift floods. As armies at the call         295
Of trumpet (for of armies thou hast heard) 
Troop to their standard, so the watery throng, 
Wave rowling after wave, where way they found— 
If steep, with torrent rapture, if through plain, 
Soft-ebbing; nor withstood them rock or hill;         300
But they, or underground, or circuit wide 
With serpent error wandering, found their way, 
And on the washy ooze deep channels wore: 
Easy, ere God had bid the ground be dry, 
All but within those banks where rivers now         305
Stream, and perpetual draw their humid train. 
The dry land Earth, and the great receptacle 
Of congregated waters he called Seas; 
And saw that it was good, and said, ‘Let the Earth 
Put forth the verdant grass, herb yielding seed,         310
And fruit-tree yielding fruit after her kind, 
Whose seed is in herself upon the Earth!’ 
He scarce had said when the bare Earth, till then 
Desert and bare, unsightly, unadorned, 
Brought forth the tender grass, whose verdure clad         315
Her universal face with pleasant green; 
Then herbs of every leaf, that sudden flowered, 
Opening their various colours, and made gay 
Her bosom, smelling sweet; and, these scarce blown, 
Forth flourished thick the clustering vine, forth crept         320
The smelling gourd, up stood the corny reed 
Imbattled in her field: add the humble shrub, 
And bush with frizzled hair implicit: last 
Rose, as in dance, the stately trees, and spread 
Their branches hung with copious fruit, or gemmed         325
Their blossoms. With high woods the hills were crowned, 
With tufts the valleys and each fountain-side, 
With borders long the rivers, that Earth now 
Seemed like to Heaven, a seat where gods might dwell, 
Or wander with delight, and love to haunt         330
Her sacred shades; though God had yet not rained 
Upon the Earth, and man to till the ground 
None was, but from the Earth a dewy mist 
Went up and watered all the ground, and each 
Plant of the field, which ere it was in the Earth         335
God made, and every herb before it grew 
On the green stem. God saw that it was good; 
So even and morn recorded the third Day. 
  “Again the Almighty spake, ‘Let there be Lights 
High in the expanse of Heaven, to divide         340
The Day from Night; and let them be for signs, 
For seasons, and for days, and circling years; 
And let them be for lights, as I ordain 
Their office in the firmament of heaven, 
To give light on the Earth!’ and it was so.         345
And God made two great Lights, great for their use 
To Man, the greater to have rule by day, 
The less by night, alternor; and made the Stars, 
And set them in the firmament of heaven 
To illuminate the Earth, and rule the day         350
In their 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 mighty sphere he framed, unlightsome first,         355
Though of ethereal mould; then formed the Moon 
Globose, and every magnitude of Stars, 
And sowed with stars the heaven thick as a field. 
Of light by far the greater part he took, 
Transplanted from her cloudy shrine, and placed         360
In the Sun’s orb, made porous to receive 
And drink the liquid light, firm to retain 
Her gathered beams, great palace now of Light. 
Hither, as to their fountain, other stars 
Repairing, in their golden urns draw light,         365
And hence the morning planet gilds her horns; 
By tincture or reflection they augment 
Their small peculiar, though, from human sight 
So far remote, with diminution seen. 
First in his east the glorious lamp was seen,         370
Regent of day, and all the horizon round 
Invested with bright rays, jocond to run 
His longitude through heaven’s high-road; the grey 
Dawn, and the Pleiades, before him danced, 
Shedding sweet influence. Less bright the Moon,         375
But opposite in levelled 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 keeps 
Till night; then in the east her turn she shines,         380
Revolved on heaven’s great axle, and her reign 
With thousand lesser lights dividual holds, 
With thousand thousand stars, that then appeared 
Spangling the hemisphere. Then first adorned 
With her bright luminaries, that set and rose,         385
Glad evening and glad morn crowned the fourth Day. 
  “And God said, ‘Let the waters generate 
Reptile with spawn abundant, living soul; 
And let Fowl fly above the earth, with wings 
Displayed on the open firmament of Heaven!’         390
And God created the great Whales, and each 
Soul living, each that crept, which plenteously 
The waters generated by their kinds, 
And every bird of wing after his kind, 
And saw that it was good, and blessed them, saying,         395
‘Be fruitful, multiply, and, in the seas, 
And lakes, and running streams, the waters fill; 
And let the fowl be multiplied on the earth!’ 
Forthwith the sounds and seas, each creek and bay, 
With fry innumerable swarm, and shoals         400
Of fish that, with their fins and shining scales, 
Glide under the green wave in sculls that oft 
Bank the mid-sea. Part, single or with mate, 
Graze the sea-weed, their pasture, and through groves 
Of coral stray, or, sporting with quick glance,         405
Shew to the sun their waved coats dropt with gold, 
Or, in their pearly shells at ease, attend 
Moist nutriment, or under rocks their food 
In jointed armour watch; on smooth the seal 
And bended dolphins play; part, huge of bulk,         410
Wallowing unwieldy, enormous in their gait, 
Tempest the ocean. There Leviathan, 
Hugest of living creatures, on the deep 
Stretched like a promontory, sleeps or swims, 
And seems a moving land, and at his gills         415
Draws in, and at his trunk spouts out, a sea. 
Meanwhile the tepid caves, and fens, and shores, 
Their brood as numerous hatch from the egg, that soon, 
Bursting with kindly rupture, forth disclosed 
Their callow young; but feathered soon and fledge         420
They summed their pens, and, soaring the air sublime, 
With clang despised the ground, under a cloud 
In prospect. There the eagle and the stork 
On cliffs and cedar-tops their eyries build. 
Part loosely wing the Region; part, more wise,         425
In common, ranged in figure, wedge their way, 
Intelligent of seasons, and set forth 
Their aerie caravan, high over seas 
Flying, and over lands, with mutual wing 
Easing their flight: so steers the prudent crane         430
Her annual voyage, borne on winds: the air 
Floats as they pass, fanned with unnumbered plumes. 
From branch to branch the smaller birds with song 
Solaced the woods, and spread their painted wings, 
Till even; nor then the solemn nightingale         435
Ceased warbling, but all night tuned her soft lays. 
Others, on silver lakes and rivers, bathed 
Their downy breast; the swan, with arched neck 
Between her white wings mantling proudly, rows 
Her state with oary feet; yet oft they quit         440
The dank, and, rising on stiff pennons, tower 
The mid aerial sky. Others on ground 
Walked firm—the crested cock, whose clarion sounds 
The silent hours, and the other, whose gay train 
Adorns him, coloured with the florid hue         445
Of rainbows and starry eyes. The waters thus 
With Fish replenished, and the air with Fowl, 
Evening and morn solemnized the fifth Day. 
  “The sixth, and of Creation last, arose 
With evening harps and matin; when God said,         450
‘Let the Earth bring forth soul living in her kind, 
Cattle, and creeping things, and beast of the earth, 
Each in their kind!’ The Earth obeyed, and, straight 
Opening her fertile womb, teemed at a birth 
Innumerous living creatures, perfect forms,         455
Limbed and full-grown. Out of the ground up rose, 
As from his lair, the wild beast, where he wons 
In forest wild, in thicket, brake, or den— 
Among the trees in pairs they rose, they walked; 
The cattle in the fields and meadows green:         460
Those rare and solitary, these in flocks 
Pasturing at once and in broad herds, upsprung. 
The grassy clods now calved; now half appeared 
The tawny Lion, pawing to get free 
His hinder parts—then springs, as broke from bonds,         465
And rampant shakes his brinded mane; the Ounce, 
The Libbard, and the Tiger, as the Mole 
Rising, the crumbled earth above them threw 
In hillocks; the swift Stag from underground 
Bore up his branching head; scarce from his mould         470
Behemoth, biggest born of earth, upheaved 
His vastness; fleeced the flocks and bleating rose, 
As plants; ambiguous between sea and land, 
The River-horse and scaly Crocodile. 
At once came forth whatever creeps the ground,         475
Insect or worm. Those waved their limber fans 
For wings, and smallest lineaments exact 
In all the liveries decked of summer’s pride, 
With spots of gold and purple, azure and green; 
These as a line their long dimension drew,         480
Streaking the ground with sinuous trace: not all 
Minims of nature; some of serpent kind, 
Wondrous in length and corpulence, involved 
Their snaky folds, and added wings. First crept 
The parsimonious Emmet, provident         485
Of future, in small room large heart enclosed— 
Pattern of just equality perhaps 
Hereafter—joined in her popular tribes 
Of commonalty. Swarming next appeared 
The female Bee, that feeds her husband drone         490
Deliciously, and builds her waxen cells 
With honey stored. The rest are numberless, 
And thou their natures know’st, and gav’st them names 
Needless to thee repeated; nor unknown 
The Serpent, subtlest beast of all the field,         495
Of huge extent sometimes, with brazen eyes 
And hairy mane terrific, though to thee 
Not noxious, but obedient at thy call. 
  “Now Heaven in all her glory shon, and rowled 
Her motions, as the great First Mover’s hand         500
First wheeled their course; Earth, in her rich attire 
Consummate, lovely smiled; Air, Water, Earth, 
By fowl, fish, beast, was flown, was swum, was walked 
Frequent; and of the sixth Day yet remained. 
There wanted yet the master-work, the end         505
Of all yet done—a creature who, not prone 
And brute as other creatures, but endued 
With sanctity of reason, might erect 
His stature, and, upright with front serene 
Govern the rest, self-knowing, and from thence         510
Magnanimous to correspond with Heaven, 
But grateful to acknowledge whence his good 
Descends; thither with heart, and voice, and eyes 
Directed in devotion, to adore 
And worship God Supreme, who made him chief         515
Of all his works. Therefore the Omnipotent 
Eternal Father (for where is not He 
Present?) thus to his Son audibly spake:— 
‘Let us make now Man in our image, Man 
In our Timilitude, and let them rule         520
Over the fish and fowl of sea and air, 
Beast of the field, and over all the earth, 
And every creeping thing that creeps the ground!’ 
This said, he formed thee, Adam, thee, O Man, 
Dust of the ground, and in thy nostrils breathed         525
The breath of life; in his own image he 
Created thee, in the image of God 
Express, and thou becam’st a living Soul. 
Male he created thee, but thy consort’ 
Female, for race; then blessed mankind, and said,         530
‘Be fruitful, multiply, and fill the Earth; 
Subdue it, and throughout dominion hold 
Over fish of the sea and fowl of the air, 
And every living thing that moves on the Earth! 
Wherever thus created—for no place         535
Is yet distinct by name—thence, as thou know’st, 
He brought thee into this delicious grove, 
This Garden, planted with the tress of God, 
Delectable both to behold and taste, 
And freely all their pleasant fruit for food         540
Gave thee. All sorts are here that all the earth yields, 
Variety without end; but of the tree 
Which tasted works knowledge of good and evil 
Thou may’st not; in the day thou eat’st, thou diest. 
Death is the penalty imposed; beware,         545
And govern well thy appetite, least Sin 
Surprise thee, and her black attendant, Death. 
  “Here finished He, and all that he had made 
Viewed, and behold! all was entirely good. 
So even and morn accomplished the sixth Day;         550
Yet not till the Creator, from his work 
Desisting, though unwearied, up returned, 
Up to the Heaven of Heavens, his high abode, 
Thence to behold this new-created World, 
The addition of his empire, how it shewed         555
In prospect from his Throne, how good, how fair, 
Answering his great Idea. Up he rode, 
Followed with acclamation, and the sound 
Symphonious of ten thousand harps, that tuned 
Angelic harmonies. The Earth, the Air         560
Resounded (thou remember’st, for thou heard’st), 
The heavens and all the constellations rung, 
The planets in their stations listening stood, 
While the bright pomp ascended jubilant. 
‘Open, ye everlasting gates!’ they sung;         565
‘Open, ye Heavens, your living doors! let in 
The great Creator, from his work returned 
Magnificent, his six days’ work, a World! 
Open, and henceforth oft; for God will deign 
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 Heaven, 
That opened wide her blazing portals, led         575
To God’s eternal house direct the way— 
A broad and ample road, whose dust is gold, 
And pavement stars, as stars to thee appear 
Seen in the Galaxy, that milky way 
Which nightly as a circling zone thou seest         580
Powdered with stars. And now on Earth the seventh 
Evening arose in Eden—for the sun 
Was set, and twilight from the east came on, 
Forerunning night—when at the holy mount 
Of Heaven’s high-seated top, the imperial throne         585
Of Godhead, fixed for ever firm and sure, 
The Filial Power arrived, and sat him down 
With his great Father; for He also went 
Invisible, yet stayed (such privilege 
Hath Omnipresence) and the work ordained,         590
Author and end of all things, and from work 
Now resting. Blessed and hallowed the seventh 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         595
And dulcimer, all organs of sweet stop, 
All sounds on fret by string or golden wire, 
Tempered soft tunings, intermixed with voice 
Choral or unison; of incense clouds, 
Fuming from golden censers, hid the Mount.         600
Creation and the Six Days’ 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 
Than from the Giant-angels? Thee that day         605
Thy thunders magnified; but to create 
Is greater than created to destroy. 
Who can impair thee, mighty King, or bound 
Thy empire? Easily the proud attempt 
Of Spirits apostate, and their counsels vain,         610
Thou hast repelled, while impiously they thought 
Thee to diminish, and from thee withdraw 
The number of thy worshipers. Who seeks 
To lessen thee, against his purpose, serves 
To manifest the more thy might; his evil         615
Thou usest, and from thence creat’st more good. 
Witness this new-made World, another Heaven 
From Heaven-gate not far, founded in view 
On the clear hyalin, the glassy sea; 
Of amplitude almost immense, with stars         620
Numerous, and every star perhaps a world 
Of destined habitation—but thou know’st 
Their seasons; among these the seat of men, 
Earth, with her nether ocean circumfused, 
Their pleasant dwelling—place. Thrice happy men,         625
And sons of men, whom God hath thus advanced, 
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 worshipers         630
Holy and just! thrice happy, if they know 
Their happiness, and persevere upright!’ 
  “So sung they, and the Empyrean rung 
With halleluiahs. Thus was Sabbath kept. 
And thy request think now fulfilled that asked         635
How first this World and face of things began, 
And what before thy memory was done 
From the beginning, that posterity, 
Informed by thee, might know. If else thou seek’st 
Aught, not surpassing human measure, say.”         640
 

Paradise Lost: The Eighth Book
 
 
THE ARGUMENT.—Adam inquires concerning celestial motions; is doubtfully answered, and exhorted to search rather things more worthy of knowledge. Adam assents, and, still desirous to detain Raphael, relates to him what he remembered 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 Adam’s ear 
So charming left his voice that he a while 
Thought him still speaking, still stood fixed to hear; 
Then, as new-waked, thus gratefully replied:— 
  “What thanks sufficient, or what recompense         5
Equal, have I to render thee, divine 
Historian, who thus largely hast allayed 
The thirst I had of knowledge, and voutsafed 
This friendly condescension to relate 
Things else by me unsearchable—now heard         10
With wonder, but delight, and, as is due, 
With glory attributed to the high 
Creator? Something yet of doubt remains, 
Which only thy solution can resolve. 
When I behold this goodly frame, this World,         15
Of Heaven and Earth consisting, and compute 
Their magnitudes—this Earth, a spot, a grain, 
An atom, with the Firmament compared 
And all her numbered stars, that seem to rowl 
Spaces incomprehensible (for such         20
Their distance argues, and their swift return 
Diurnal) merely to officiate light 
Round this opacous Earth, this punctual spot, 
One day and night, in all their vast survey 
Useless besides—reasoning, I oft admire         25
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 appears, and on their Orbs impose         30
Such restless revolution day by day 
Repeated, while the sedentary Earth, 
That better might with far less compass move, 
Served by more noble than herself, attains 
Her end without least motion, and receives,         35
As tribute, such a sumless journey brought 
Of incorporeal speed her warmth and light: 
Speed, to describe whose swiftness number fails.” 
  So spake our Sire, and by his countenance seemed 
Entering on studious thoughts abstruse; which Eve         40
Perceiving, where, she sat retired 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 flowers, 
To visit how they prospered, bud and bloom,         45
Her nursery; they at her coming sprung, 
And, touched by her fair tendance, gladlier grew. 
Yet went she not as not with such discourse 
Delighted, or not capable her ear 
Of what was high. Such pleasure she reserved,         50
Adam relating, she sole auditress; 
Her husband the relater she preferred 
Before the Angel, and of him to ask 
Chose rather; he, she knew, would intermix 
Grateful digressions, and solve high dispute         55
With conjugal caresses: from his lip 
Not words alone pleased her. Oh, when meet now 
Such pairs, in love and mutual honour joined? 
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 proposed 
Benevolent and facile thus replied:—         65
  “To ask or search I blame thee not; for Heaven 
Is as the Book of God before thee set, 
Wherein to read his wondrous works, and learn 
His seasons, hours, or days, or months, or years. 
This to attain, whether Heaven move or Earth         70
Imports not, if thou reckon right; the rest 
From Man or Angel the great Architect 
Did wisely to conceal, and not divulge 
His secrets, to be scanned by them who ought 
Rather admire. Or, if they list to try         75
Conjecture, he his fabric of the Heavens 
Hath left to their disputes—perhaps to move 
His laughter at their quaint opinions wide 
Hereafter, when they come to model Heaven, 
And calculate the stars; how they will wield         80
The mighty frame; how build, unbuild, contrive 
To save appearances; how gird the Sphere 
With Centric and Eccentric scribbled o’er, 
Cycle and Epicycle, orb in orb. 
Already by thy reasoning this I guess,         85
Who art to lead thy offspring, and supposest 
That bodies bright and greater should not serve 
The less not bright, nor Heaven such journeys run, 
Earth sitting still, when she alone receives 
The benefit. Consider, first, that great         90
Or bright infers not excellence. The Earth, 
Though, in comparison of Heaven, so small, 
Nor glistering, may of solid good contain 
More plenty than the Sun that barren shines, 
Whose virtue on itself works no effect,         95
But in the fruitful Earth; there first received, 
His beams, unactive else, their vigour find. 
Yet not to Earth are those bright luminaries 
Officious, but to thee, Earth’s habitant. 
And, for the Heaven’s wide circuit, let it speak         100
The Maker’s high magnificence, who built 
So spacious, and his line stretched out so far, 
That Man may know he dwells not in his own— 
An edifice too large for him to fill, 
Lodged in a small partition, and the rest         105
Ordained for uses to his Lord best known. 
The swiftness of those Circles at’tribute, 
Though numberless, to his Omnipotence, 
That to corporeal substances could add 
Speed almost spiritual. Me thou think’st not slow,         110
Who since the morning-hour set out from Heaven 
Where God resides, and ere mid-day arrived 
In Eden—distance inexpressible 
By numbers that have name. But this I urge, 
Admitting motion in the Heavens, to shew         115
Invalid that which thee to doubt it moved; 
Not that I so affirm, though so it seem 
To thee who hast thy dwelling here on Earth. 
God, to remove his ways from human sense, 
Placed Heaven from Earth so far, that earthly sight,         120
If it presume, might err in things too high, 
And no advantage gain. What if the Sun 
Be centre to the World, and other Stars, 
By his attractive virtue and their own 
Incited, dance about him various rounds?         125
Their wandering course, now high, now low, then hid, 
Progressive, retrograde, or standing still, 
In six thou seest; and what if, seventh to these 
The planet Earth, so steadfast though she seem, 
Insensibly three different motions move?         130
Which else to several spheres thou must ascribe, 
Moved contrary with thwart obliquities, 
Or save the Sun his labour, and that swift 
Nocturnal and diurnal rhomb supposed, 
Invisible else above all stars, the wheel         135
Of Day and Night; which needs not they belief, 
If Earth, industrious of herself, fetch Day, 
Travelling east, and with her part averse 
From the Sun’s beam meet Night, her other part 
Still luminous by his ray. What if that light,         140
Sent from her through the wide transpicuous air, 
To the terrestrial Moon to be as a star, 
Enlightening her by day, as she by night 
This Earth—reciprocal, if land be there, 
Fields and inhabitants? Her spots thou seest         145
As clouds, and clouds may rain, and rain produce 
Fruits in her softened soil, for some to eat 
Allotted there; and other Suns, perhaps, 
With their attendant Moons, thou wilt descry, 
Communicating male and female light—         150
Which to great sexes animate the World, 
Stored in each Orb perhaps with some that live. 
For such vast room in Nature unpossessed 
By living soul, desert and desolate, 
Only to shine, yet scarce to con’tribute         155
Each Orb a glimpse of light, conveyed so far 
Down to this habitable, which returns 
Light back to them, is obvious to dispute. 
But whether thus these things, or whether not— 
Whether the Sun, predominant in heaven,         160
Rise on the Earth, or Earth rise on the Sun; 
He from the east his flaming road begin, 
Or she from west her silent course advance 
With inoffensive pace that spinning sleeps 
On her soft axle, while she paces even,         165
And bears thee soft with the smooth air along— 
Solicit not thy thoughts with matters hid: 
Leave them to God above; him serve and fear. 
Of other creatures as him pleases best, 
Wherever placed, let him dispose; joy thou         170
In what he gives to thee, this Paradise 
And thy fair Eve; Heaven is for thee too high 
To know what passes there. Be lowly wise; 
Think only what concerns thee and thy being; 
Dream not to other worlds, what creatures there         175
Live, in what state, condition, or degreed- 
Contented that thus far hath been revealed 
Not of Earth only, but of highest Heaven.” 
  To whom thus Adam, cleared of doubt, replied:— 
“How fully hast thou satisfied me, pure         180
Intelligence of Heaven, 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 far off all anxious cares,         185
And not molest us, unless we ourselves 
Seek them with wandering thoughts, and notions vain! 
But apt the mind or fancy is to rove 
Unchecked; and of her roving is no end, 
Till, warned, or by experience taught, she learn         190
That not to know at large of things remote 
From use, obscure and subtle, 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,         195
And renders us in things that most concern 
Unpractised, unprepared, 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 something not unreasonable to ask, 
By sufferance, and thy wonted favour, deigned. 
Thee I have heard relating what was done 
Ere my remembrance; now hear me relate 
My story, which perhaps, thou hast not heard.         205
And day is yet not spent; till then thou seest 
How subtly to detain 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 Heaven;         210
And sweeter thy discourse is to my ear 
Than fruits of palm-tree, pleasantest to thirst 
And hunger both, from labour, at the hour 
Of sweet repast. They satiate, and soon fill, 
Though pleasant; but thy words, with grace divine         215
Imbued, bring to their sweetness no satiety.” 
  To whom thus Raphael answered, heavenly meek:— 
“Nor are thy lips ungrateful, Sire of Men, 
Nor tongue ineloquent; for God on thee 
Abundantly his gifts hath also poured,         220
Inward and outward both, his image fair: 
Speaking, or mute, all comeliness and grace 
Attends thee, and each word, each motion, forms. 
Nor less think we in Heaven of thee on Earth 
Than of our fellow-servant, and inquire         225
Gladly into the ways of God with Man; 
For God, we see, hath honoured 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
Far on excursion toward the gates of Hell, 
Squared in full legion (such command we had), 
To see that none thence issued forth a spy 
Or enemy, while God was in his work, 
Lest he, incensed at such eruption bold,         235
Destruction with Creation might have mixed. 
Not that they durst without his leave attempt; 
But us he sends upon his high behests 
For state, as sovran King, and to inure 
Our prompt obedience. Fast we found, fast shut,         240
The dismal gates, and barricaded strong, 
But, long ere our approaching, heard within 
Noise, other than the sound of dance or song— 
Torment, and loud lament, and furious rage. 
Glad we returned up to the coasts of Light         245
Ere Sabbath-evening; so we had in charge. 
But thy relation now: for I attend, 
Pleased with thy words no less than 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 
Induced me. As new-waked from soundest sleep, 
Soft on the flowery herb I found me laid, 
In balmy sweat, which with his beams the Sun         255
Soon dried, and on the reeking moisture fed. 
Straight toward Heaven my wondering eyes I turned, 
And gazed a while the ample sky, till, raised 
By quick instinctive motion, up I sprung, 
As thitherward endeavoring, and upright         260
Stood on my feet. About me round I saw 
Hill, dale, and shady woods, and sunny plains, 
And liquid lapse of murmuring streams; by these, 
Creatures that lived and moved, and walked or flew, 
Birds on the branches warbling: all things smiled;         265
With fragrance and with joy my heart o’erflowed. 
Myself I then perused, and limb by limb 
Surveyed, 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 tried, and forthwith spake; 
My tongue obeyed, and readily could name 
Whate’er I saw. ‘Thou Sun,’ said I, ‘fair light, 
And thou enlightened Earth, so fresh and gay, 
Ye hills and dales, ye rivers, woods, and plains,         275
And ye that live and move, fair creatures, tell, 
Tell, if ye saw, how came I thus, how here! 
Not of myself; by some great Maker then, 
tin goodness and in power præ-eminent. 
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 than I know!’ 
While thus I called, and strayed I knew not whither, 
From where I first drew air, and first beheld 
This happy light, when answer none returned,         285
On a green shady bank, profuse of flowers, 
Pensive I sat me down. There gentle sleep 
First found me, and with soft oppression seized 
My drowsèd sense, untroubled, 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 moved 
My fancy to believe I yet had being, 
And lived. One came, methought, of shape divine,         295
And said, ‘Thy mansion wants thee, Adam; rise, 
First Man, of men innumerable ordained 
First father! called by thee, I come thy guide 
To the Garden of bliss, thy seat prepared.’ 
So saying, by the hand he took me, raised,         300
And over fields and waters, as in air 
Smooth sliding without step, last led me up 
A woody mountain, whose high top was plain, 
A circuit wide, enclosed, with goodliest trees 
Planted, with walks and bowers, that what I saw         305
Of Earth before scarce pleasant seemed. Each tree 
Loaden with fairest fruit, that hung to the eye 
Tempting, stirred in me sudden appetite 
To pluck and eat; whereat I waked, and found 
Before mine eyes all real, as the dream         310
Had lively shadowed. Here had new begun 
My wandering, had not He who was my guide 
Up hither from among the trees appeared, 
Presence Divine. Rejoicing, but with awe, 
In adoration at his feet I fell         315
Submiss. He reared me, and, ‘Whom thou sought’st I am,’ 
Said mildly, ‘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 eat.         320
Of every tree that in the Garden grows 
Eat freely with glad heart; fear here no dearth. 
But of the tree whose operation brings 
Knowledge of Good and Ill, which I have set, 
The pledge of thy obedience and thy faith,         325
Amid the garden by the Tree of Life— 
Remember what I warn thee—shun to taste, 
And shun the bitter consequence: for know, 
The day thou eat’st thereof, my sole command 
Transgressed, inevitably thou shalt die,         330
From that day mortal, and this happy state 
Shalt lose, expelled from hence into a world 
Of woe and sorrow.’ Sternly he pronounced 
The rigid interdiction, which resounds 
Yet dreadful in mine ear, though in my choice         335
Not to incur; but soon his clear aspect’ 
Returned, and gracious purpose thus renewed:— 
‘Not only 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 air, beast, fish, and fowl. 
In sign whereof, each bird and beast behold 
After their kinds; I bring them to receive 
From thee their names, and pay thee fealty 
With low subjection. Understand the same         345
Of fish within their watery residence, 
Not hither summoned, since they cannot change 
Their element to draw the thinner air.’ 
As thus he spake, each bird and beast behold 
Approaching two and two—these cowering low         350
With blandishment; each bird stooped on his wing. 
I named them as they passed, and understood 
Their nature; with such knowledge God endued 
My sudden apprehension. But in these 
I found not what methought I wanted still,         355
And to the Heavenly Vision thus presumed:— 
  “‘O, by what name—or Thou above all these, 
Above mankind, or aught than mankind higher, 
Surpassest far 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 me 
I see not who partakes. In solitude 
What happiness? who can enjoy alone,         365
Or, all enjoying, what contentment find?’ 
Thus I, presumptuous; and the Vision bright, 
As with a smile more brightened, thus replied:— 
  “‘What call’st thou solitude? Is not the Earth 
With various living creatures, and the Air,         370
Replenished, and all these at thy command 
To come and play before thee? Know’st thou not 
Their language and their ways? They also know, 
And reason not contemptibly; with these 
Find pastime, and bear rule; thy realm is large.’         375
So spake the Universal Lord and seemed 
So ordering. I, with leave of speech implored, 
And humble deprecation, thus replied:— 
  “‘Let not my words offend thee, Heavenly Power; 
My Maker, be propitious while I speak.         380
Hast thou not made me here thy substitute, 
And these inferior far beneath me set? 
Among unequals what society 
Can sort, what harmony or true delight? 
Which must be mutual, in proportion due         385
Given and received; but, in disparity, 
The one intense, the other still remiss, 
Cannot well suit 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 rejoice 
Each with their kind, lion with lioness; 
So fitly them in pairs thou hast combined: 
Much less can bird with beast, or fish with fowl,         395
So well converse, nor with the ox the ape; 
Worse, then, can man with beast, and least of all.’ 
  “Whereto the Almighty answered, not displeased:— 
‘A nice and subtle happiness, I see, 
Thou to thyself proposest, in the choice         400
Of thy associates, Adam, and wilt taste 
No pleasure, though in pleasure, solitary. 
What think’st thou, then, of Me, and this my state? 
Seem I to thee sufficiently possessed 
Of happiness, or not, who am alone         405
From all eternity? for none I know 
Second to me 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 inferior infinite descents         410
Beneath what other creatures are to thee?’ 
  “He ceased. I lowly answered:—’To attain 
The highth and depth of thy eternal ways 
All human thoughts come short, Supreme of Things! 
Thou in thyself art perfect, and in Thee         415
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 
Should’st propagate, 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 multiplied, 
In unity defective; which requires         425
Collateral love, and dearest amity. 
Thou, in thy secrecy although alone, 
Best with thyself accompanied, seek’st not 
Social communication—yet, so pleased, 
Canst raise thy creature to what highth thou wilt         430
Of union or communion, deified; 
I, by conversing, cannot these erect 
From prone, nor in their ways complacence find. 
Thus I emboldened spake, and freedom used 
Permissive, and acceptance found; which gained         435
This answer from the gratious Voice Divine:— 
  “‘Thus far to try thee, Adam, I was pleased, 
And find thee knowing not of beasts alone, 
Which thou hast rightly named, but of thyself— 
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,         445
And no such company as then thou saw’st 
Intended thee—for trial only brought, 
To see how thou couldst judge of fit and meet. 
What next I bring shall please thee, be assured, 
Thy likeness, thy fit help, thy other self,         450
Thy wish exactly to thy heart’s desire.’ 
  “He ended, or I heard no more; for now 
My earthly, by his heavenly overpowered, 
Which it had long stood under, strained to the highth 
In that celestial colloquy sublime,         455
As with an object that excels the sense, 
Dazzled and spent, sunk down, and sought repair 
Of sleep, which instantly fell on me, called 
By Nature as in aid, and closed mine eyes. 
Mine eyes he closed, but open left the cell         460
Of fancy, my internal sight; by which, 
Abstract as in a trance, methought I saw, 
Though sleeping, where I lay, and saw the Shape 
Still glorious before whom awake I stood; 
Who, stooping, opened my left side, and took         465
From thence a rib, with cordial spirits warm, 
And life-blood streaming fresh; wide was the wound, 
But suddenly with flesh filled up and healed. 
The rib he formed and fashioned with his hands; 
Under his forming hands a creature grew,         470
Man-like, but different sex, so lovely fair 
That what seemed fair in all the world seemed now 
Mean, or in her summed up, in her contained 
And in her looks, which from that time infused 
Sweetness into my heart unfelt before,         475
And into all things from her air inspired 
The spirit of love and amorous delight. 
She disappeared, and left me dark; I waked 
To find her, or for ever to deplore 
Her loss, and other pleasures all adjure:         480
When, out of hope, behold her not far off, 
Such as I saw her in my dream, adorned 
With what all Earth or Heaven could bestow 
To make her amiable. On she came, 
Led by her Heavenly Maker, though unseen         485
And guided by his voice, nor uninformed 
Of nuptial sanctity and marriage rites. 
Grace was in all her steps, heaven in her eye, 
In every gesture dignity and love. 
I, overjoyed, could not forbear aloud:—         490
  “‘This turn hath made amends; thou hast fulfilled 
Thy words, Creator bounteous and benign, 
Giver of all things fair—but fairest this 
Of all thy gifts!—nor enviest. I now see 
Bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh, my Self         495
Before me. Woman is her name, of Man 
Extracted; for this cause he shall forgo 
Father and mother, and to his wife adhere, 
And they shall be one flesh, one heart, one soul.’ 
  “She heard me thus; and, though divinely brought,         500
Yet innocence and virgin modesty, 
Her virtue, and the conscience of her worth, 
That would be wooed, and not unsought be won, 
Not obvious, not obtrusive, but retired, 
The most desirable—or, to say all,         505
Nature herself, though pure of sinful thought— 
Wrought in her so, that, seeing me, she turned. 
I followed her; she what was honour knew, 
And with obsequious majesty approved 
My pleaded reason. To the nuptial bower         510
I led her blushing like the Morn; all Heaven, 
And happy constellations, on that hour 
Shed their selectest influence; the Earth 
Gave sign of gratulation, and each hill; 
Joyous the birds; fresh gales and gentle airs         515
Whispered it to the woods, and from their wings 
Flung rose, flung odours from the spicy shrub, 
Disporting, till the amorous bird of night 
Sung spousal, and bid haste the Evening-star 
On his hill-top to light the bridal lamp.         520
  “Thus have I told thee all my state, and brought 
My story to the sum of earthly bliss 
Which I enjoy, and must confess to find 
In all things else delight indeed, but such 
As, use or not, works in the mind no change,         525
Nor vehement desire—these delicacies 
I mean of taste, sight, smell, herbs, fruits, and flowers, 
Walks, and the melody of birds: but here, 
Far otherwise, transported I behold, 
Transported touch; here passion first I felt,         530
Commotion strange, in all enjoyments else 
Superior and unmoved, here only weak 
Against the charm of beauty’s powerful glance. 
Or Nature failed in me, and left some part 
Not proof enough such object to sustain,         535
Or, from my side subducting, took perhaps 
More than enough—at least on her bestowed 
Too much of ornament, in outward show 
Elaborate, of inward less exact. 
For well I understand in the prime end         540
Of Nature her the inferior, in the mind 
And inward faculties, which most excel; 
In outward also her resembling less 
His image who made both, and less expressing 
The character of that dominion given         545
O’er other creatures. Yet when I approach 
Her loveliness, so absolute she seems 
And in herself complete, so well to know 
Her own, that what she wills to do or say 
Seems wisest, virtuousest, discreetest, best.         550
All higher Knowledge in her presence falls 
Degraded; Wisdom in discourse with her 
Loses, discountenanced, and like Folly shews; 
Authority and Reason on her wait, 
As one intended first, not after made         555
Occasionally; and, to consum’mate all, 
Greatness of mind and nobleness their seat 
Build in her loveliest, and create an awe 
About her, as a guard angelic placed.” 
  To whom the Angel, with contracted brow:—         560
“Accuse not Nature! she hath done her part; 
Do thou but thine! and be not diffident 
Of Wisdom; she deserts thee not, if thou 
Dismiss not her, when most thou need’st her nigh, 
By attribu’ting overmuch to things         565
Less excellent, as thou thyself perceiv’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 thyself;         570
Then value. Oft-times nothing profits more 
Than self-esteem, grounded on just and right 
Well managed. Of that skill the more thou know’st, 
The more she will acknowledge thee her head, 
And to realities yield all her shows—         575
Made so adorn for thy delight the more, 
So awful, that with honour thou may’st 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 voutsafed 
To cattle and each beast; which would not be 
To them made common and divulged, if aught 
Therein enjoyed were worthy to subdue 
The soul of Man, or passion in him move.         585
What higher in her society thou find’st 
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 Heavenly Love thou may’st ascend, 
Not sunk in carnal pleasure; for which cause 
Among the beasts no mate for thee was found.” 
  To whom thus, half abashed, Adam replied:—         595
“Neither her outside formed so fair, nor aught 
In procreation, common to all kinds 
(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, mixed with love 
And sweet compliance, which declare unfeigned 
Union of mind, or in us both one soul— 
Harmony to behold in wedded pair         605
More grateful than harmonious sound to the ear. 
Yet these subject not; I to thee disclose 
What inward thence I feel, not therefore foiled, 
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 say’st, 
Leads up to Heaven, is both the way and guide; 
Bear with me, then, if lawful what I ask. 
Love not the Heavenly Spirits, and how their love         615
Express they—by looks only, or do they mix 
Irradiance, virtual or immediate touch?” 
  To whom the Angel, with a smile that glowed 
Celestial rosy-red, Love’s proper hue, 
Answered:—“Let it suffice thee that thou know’st         620
Us happy, 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, joint, or limb, exclusive bars.         625
Easier than air with air, if Spirits embrace, 
Total they mix, union of pure with pure 
Desiring, nor restrained conveyance need 
As flesh to mix with flesh, or soul with soul. 
But I can now no more: the parting Sun         630
Beyond the Earth’s green Cape and verdant Isles 
Hesperean sets, my signal to depart. 
Be strong, live happy, and love! but first of all 
Him whom to love is to obey, and keep 
His great command; take heed lest passion sway         635
Thy judgment to do aught which else free—will 
Would not admit; thine and of all thy sons 
The weal or woe in thee is placed; beware! 
I in thy persevering shall rejoice, 
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 
Followed with benediction:—“Since to part,         645
Go, Heavenly Guest, Ethereal Messenger, 
Sent from whose sovran goodness I adore! 
Gentle to me and affable hath been 
Thy condescension, and shall be honoured ever 
With grateful memory. Thou to Mankind         650
Be good and friendly still, and oft return!” 
  So parted they, the Angel up to Heaven 
From the thick shade, and Adam to his bower.

Paradise Lost: The Ninth Book
 
 
THE ARGUMENT.—Satan, having compassed 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 their labours, which Eve proposes to divide in several places, each labouring apart: Adam consents not, alleging the danger lest that Enemy of whom they were forewarned should attempt her found alone. Eve, loth to be thought not circumspect or firm enough, urges her going apart, the rather desirous to make trial 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, wondering to hear the Serpent speak, asks how he attained to human speech and such understanding not till now; the Serpent answers that by tasting of a certain Tree in the Garden he attained 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, pleased with the taste, deliberates a while 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 amazed, 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 their 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 used 
To sit indulgent, and with him partake 
Rural repast, permitting him to while 
Venial discourse unblamed. I now must change         5
Those notes to tragic—foul distrust, and breach 
Disloyal, on the part of man, revolt 
And disobedience; on the part of Heaven, 
Now alienated, distance and distaste, 
Anger and just rebuke, and judgment given,         10
That brought into this World a world of woe, 
Sin and her shadow Death, and Misery, 
Death’s harbinger. Sad task! yet argument 
Not less but more heroic than the wrauth 
Of stern Achilles on his foe pursued         15
Thrice fugitive about Troy wall; or rage 
Of Turnus for Lavinia disespoused; 
Or Neptune’s ire, or Juno’s that so long 
Perplexed the Greek, and Cytherea’s son: 
If answerable style I can obtain         20
Of my celestial Patroness, who deigns 
Her nightly visitation unimplored, 
And dictates to me slumbering, or inspires 
Easy my unpremeditated verse, 
Since first this subject for heroic song         25
Pleased me, long choosing and beginning late, 
Not sedulous by nature to indite 
Wars, hitherto the only argument 
Heroic deemed, chief maistrie to dissect 
With long and tedious havoc fabled knights         30
In battles feigned (the better fortitude 
Of patience and heroic martyrdom 
Unsung), or to describe races and games, 
Or tilting furniture, emblazoned shields, 
Impreses quaint, caparisons and steeds,         35
Bases and tinsel trappings, gorgeous knights 
At joust and tournament; then marshalled feast 
Served 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! Me, of these 
Nor skilled nor studious, higher argument 
Remains, sufficient of itself to raise 
That name, unless an age too late, or cold 
Climat, or years, damp my intended wing         45
Depressed; 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 Star 
Of Hesperus, whose office is to bring 
Twilight upon the Earth, short arbiter         50
’Twixt day and night, and now from end to end 
Night’s hemisphere had veiled the horizon round, 
When Satan, who late fled before the threats 
Of Gabriel out of Eden, now improved 
In meditated fraud and malice, bent         55
On Man’s destruction, maugre what might hap 
Of heavier on himself, fearless returned. 
By night he fled, and at midnight returned 
From compassing the Earth—cautious of day 
Since Uriel, Regent of the Sun, descried         60
His entrance, and forwarned the Cherubim 
That kept their watch. Thence, full of anguish, driven, 
The space of seven continued nights he rode 
With darkness—thrice the equinoctial line 
He circled, four times crossed the car of Night         65
From pole to pole, traversing each colure— 
On the eighth returned, 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, involved in rising mist; then sought         75
Where to lie hid. Sea he had searched and land 
From Eden over Pontus, and the Pool 
Mæotis, up beyond the river Ob; 
Downward as far Antartic; and, in length, 
West from Orontes to the ocean barred         80
At Darien, thence to the land where flows 
Ganges and Indus. Thus the orb he roamed 
With narrow search, and with inspection deep 
Considered every creature, which of all 
Most opportune might serve his wiles, and found         85
The Serpent subtlest beast of all the field. 
Him, after long debate, irresolute 
Of thoughts revolved, 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 wily snake 
Whatever sleights none would suspicious mark 
As from his wit and native subtlety 
Proceeding, which, in other beasts observed, 
Doubt might beget of diabolic power         95
Active within beyond the sense of brute. 
Thus he resolved, but first from inward grief 
His bursting passion into plaints thus poured:— 
  “O Earth, how like to Heaven, if not preferred 
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 Heaven, danced round by other Heavens, 
That shine, yet bear their bright officious lamps, 
Light above light, for thee alone, as seems,         105
In thee concentring all their precious beams 
Of sacred influence! As God in Heaven 
Is centre, yet extends to all, so thou 
Centring receiv’st from all those orbs; in thee, 
Not in themselves, all their known virtue appears,         110
Productive in herb, plant, and nobler birth 
Of creatures animate with gradual life 
Of growth, sense, reason, all summed up in Man. 
With what delight could I have walked thee round, 
If I could joy in aught—sweet interchange         115
Of hill and valley, rivers, woods, and plains, 
Now land, now sea, and shores with forest crowned, 
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 Heaven much worse would be my state. 
But neither here seek I, nor in Heaven, 
To dwell, unless by maistring Heaven’s Supreme;         125
Nor hope to be myself less miserable 
By what I seek, but others to make such 
As I, though thereby worse to me redound. 
For only in destroying I find ease 
To my relentless thoughts; and him destroyed,         130
Or won to what may work his utter loss, 
For whom all this was made, all this will soon 
Follow, as to him linked in weal or woe: 
In woe then, that destruction wide may range! 
To me shall be the glory sole among         135
The Infernal Powers, in one day to have marred 
What he, Almighty styled, six nights and days 
Continued making, and who knows how long 
Before had been contriving? though perhaps 
Not longer than since I in one night freed         140
From servitude inglorious well nigh half 
The Angelic Name, and thinner left the throng 
Of his adorers. He, to be avenged, 
And to repair his numbers thus impaired— 
Whether such virtue, spent of old, now failed         145
More Angels to create (if they at least 
Are his created), or to spite us more— 
Determined to advance into our room 
A creature formed of earth, and him endow, 
Exalted from so base original,         150
With heavenly spoils, our spoils. What he decreed 
He effected; Man he made, and for him built 
Magnificent this World, and Earth his seat, 
Him Lord pronounced, and, O indignity! 
Subjected to his service Angel-wings         155
And flaming ministers, to watch and tend 
Their earthly charge. Of these the vigilance 
I dread, and to elude, thus wrapt in mist 
Of midnight vapour, glide obscure, and pry 
In every bush and brake, where hap may find         160
The Serpent sleeping, in whose mazy folds 
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 constrained 
Into a beast, and, mixed with bestial slime,         165
This essence to incarnate and imbrute, 
That to the highth of Deity aspired! 
But what will not ambition and revenge 
Descend to? Who aspires must down as low 
As high he soared, obnoxious, first or last,         170
To basest things. Revenge, at first though sweet, 
Bitter ere long back on itself recoils. 
Let it; I reck not, so it light well aimed, 
Since higher I fall short, on him who next 
Provokes my envy, this new favourite         175
Of Heaven, this Man of Clay, son of despite, 
Whom, us the more to spite, his Maker raised 
From dust: spite then with spite is best repaid.” 
  So saying, through each thicket, dank or dry, 
Like a black mist low-creeping, he held on         180
His midnight search, where soonest he might find 
The Serpent. Him fast sleeping soon he found, 
In labyrinth of many a round self-rowled, 
His head the midst, well stored with subtle wiles: 
Not yet in horrid shade or dismal den:         185
Nor nocent yet, but on the grassy herb, 
Fearless, unfeared, he slept. In at his mouth 
The Devil entered, and his brutal sense. 
In heart or head, possessing soon inspired 
With act intelligential; but his sleep         190
Disturbed not, waiting close the approach of morn. 
  Now, whenas sacred light began to dawn 
In Eden on the humid flowers, that breathed 
Their morning incense, when all things that breathe 
From the Earth’s great altar send up silent praise         195
To the Creator, and his nostrils fill 
With grateful smell, forth came the human pair, 
And joined their vocal worship to the quire 
Of creatures wanting voice; that done, partake 
The season, prime for sweetest scents and airs;         200
Then com’mune how that day they best may ply 
Their growing work—for much their work outgrew 
The hands’ dispatch of two gardening so wide: 
And Eve first to her husband thus began:— 
  “Adam, well may we labour still to dress         205
This Garden, still to tend plant, herb, and flower, 
Our pleasant task enjoined; 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 wild. 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         215
The woodbine round this arbour, or direct 
The clasping ivy where to climb; while I 
In yonder spring of roses intermixed 
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 so near 
Looks intervene and smiles, or objects new 
Casual discourse draw on, which intermits 
Our day’s work, brought to little, though begun 
Early, and the hour of supper comes unearned!”         225
  To whom mild answer Adam thus returned:— 
“Sole Eve, associate sole, to me beyond 
Compare above all living creatures dear! 
Well hast thou motioned, well thy thoughts imployed 
How we might best fulfil the work which here         230
God hath assigned us, nor of me shalt pass 
Unpraised; for nothing lovelier can be found 
In woman than to study household good, 
And good works in her husband to promote. 
Yet not so strictly hath our Lord imposed         235
Labour as to debar 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 denied, and are of love the food—         240
Love, not the lowest end of human life. 
For not to irksome toil, but to delight, 
He made us, and delight to reason joined. 
These paths and bowers doubt not but our joint hands 
Will keep from wilderness with ease, as wide         245
As we need walk, till younger hands ere long 
Assist us. But, if much converse perhaps 
Thee satiate, to short absence I could yield; 
For solitude sometimes is best society, 
And short retirement urges sweet return.         250
But other doubt possesses me, lest harm 
Befall thee, severed from me; for thou know’st 
What hath been warned us—what malicious foe, 
Envying our happiness, and of his own 
Despairing, seeks to work us woe and shame         255
By sly assault and somewhere nigh at hand 
Watches, no doubt, with greedy hope to find 
His wish and best advantage, us asunder, 
Hopeless to circumvent us joined, where each 
To other speedy aid might lend at need.         260
Whether his first design be to withdraw 
Our fealty from God, or to disturb 
Conjugal love—than which perhaps no bliss 
Enjoyed by us excites his envy more— 
Or this, or worse, leave not the faithful side         265
That gave thee being, still shades thee and protects. 
The wife, where danger or dishonour lurks, 
Safest and seemliest by her husband stays, 
Who guards her, or with her the worst endures.” 
  To whom the virgin majesty of Eve,         270
As one who loves, and some unkindness meets, 
With sweet austere composure thus replied:— 
  “Offspring of Heaven and Earth, and all Earth’s lord! 
That such an Enemy we have, who seeks 
Our ruin, both by thee informed I learn,         275
And from the parting Angel overheard, 
As in a shady nook I stood behind, 
Just then returned at shut of evening flowers. 
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 fear’st not, being such 
As we, not capable of death or pain, 
Can either not receive, or can repel. 
His fraud is, then, thy fear; which plain infers         285
Thy equal fear that my firm faith and love 
Can by his fraud be shaken or seduced: 
Thoughts, which how found they harbour in thy breast, 
Adam! misthought of her to thee so dear?” 
  To whom, with healing words, Adam replied:—         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 
The attempt itself, intended by our Foe.         295
For he who tempts, though in vain, at least asperses 
The tempted with dishonour foul, supposed 
Not incorruptible of faith, not proof 
Against temptation. Thou thyself with scorn 
And anger wouldst resent the offered 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 enemy, though bold, will hardly dare; 
Or, daring, first on me the assault shall light.         305
Nor thou his malice and false guile contemn— 
Subtle he needs must be who could seduce 
Angels—nor think superfluous others’ aid. 
I from the influence of thy looks receive 
Access in every virtue—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 overreached, 
Would utmost vigour raise, and raised unite. 
Why shouldst not thou like sense within thee feel         315
When I am present, and thy trial choose 
With me, best witness of thy virtue tried?” 
  So spake domestic Adam in his care 
And matrimonial love; but Eve, who thought 
Less attributed to her faith sincere,         320
Thus her reply with accent sweet renewed:— 
  “If this be our condition, thus to dwell 
In narrow circuit straitened by a Foe, 
Subtle or violent, we not endued 
Single with like defence wherever met,         325
How are we happy, still in fear of harm? 
But harm precedes not sin: only our Foe 
Tempting affronts us with his foul esteem 
Of our integrity: his foul esteem 
Sticks no dishonour on our front, but turns         330
Foul on himself; then wherefore shunned or feared 
By us, who rather double honour gain 
From his surmise proved false, find peace within, 
Favour from Heaven, our witness, from the event? 
And what is faith, love, virtue, unassayed         335
Alone, without exterior help sustained? 
Let us not then suspect our happy state 
Left so imperfet by the Maker wise 
As not secure to single or combined. 
Frail is our happiness, if this be so;         340
And Eden were no Eden, thus exposed.” 
  To whom thus Adam fervently replied:— 
“O Woman, best are all things as the will 
Of God ordained them; his creating hand 
Nothing imperfet or deficient left         345
Of all that he created—much less Man, 
Or aught that might his happy state secure, 
Secure from outward force. Within himself 
The danger lies, yet lies within his power; 
Against his will he can receive no harm.         350
But God left free the Will; for what obeys 
Reason is free; and Reason he made right, 
But bid her well beware, and still erect, 
Lest, by some fair appearing good surprised, 
She dictate false, and misinform the Will         355
To do what God expressly hath forbid. 
Not then mistrust, but tender love, enjoins 
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 suborned, 
And fall into deception unaware, 
Not keeping strictest watch, as she was warned. 
Seek not temptation, then, which to avoid 
Were better, and most likely if from me         365
Thou sever not: trial will come unsought. 
Wouldst thou approve thy constancy, approve 
First thy obedience; the other who can know, 
Not seeing thee attempted, who attest? 
But, if thou think trial unsought may find         370
Us both securer than thus warned thou seem’st, 
Go; for thy stay, not free, absents thee more. 
Go in thy native innocence; rely 
On what thou hast of virtue; summon all; 
For God towards thee hath done his part: do thine.”         375
  So spake the Patriarch of Mankind; but Eve 
Persisted; yet submiss, though last, replied:— 
  “With thy permission, then, and thus forewarned, 
Chiefly by what thy own last reasoning words 
Touched only, that our trial, when least sought,         380
May find us both perhaps far less prepared, 
The willinger I go, 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 husband’s hand her hand         385
Soft she withdrew, and, like a wood—nymph light, 
Oread or Dryad, or of Delia’s train, 
Betook her to the groves, but Delia’s self 
In gait surpassed and goddess-like deport, 
Though not as she with bow and quiver armed,         390
But with such gardening tools as Art, yet rude, 
Guiltless of fire had formed, or Angels brought. 
To Pales, or Pomona, thus adorned, 
Likest she seemed—Pomona when she fled 
Vertumnus—or to Ceres in her prime,         395
Yet virgin of Proserpina from Jove. 
Her long with ardent look his eye pursued 
Delighted, but desiring more her stay. 
Oft he to her his charge of quick return 
Repeated; she to him as oft engaged         400
To be returned by noon amid the bower, 
And all things in best order to invite 
Noontide repast, or afternoon’s repose. 
O much deceived, much failing, hapless Eve, 
Of thy presumed return! event perverse!         405
Thou never from that hour in Paradise 
Found’st either sweet repast or sound repose; 
Such ambush, hid among sweet flowers and shades, 
Waited, with hellish rancour imminent, 
To intercept thy way, or send thee back         410
Despoiled of innocence, of faith, of bliss. 
For now, and since first break of dawn, the Fiend, 
Mere Serpent in appearance, forth was come, 
And on his quest where likeliest he might find 
The only two of mankind, but in them         415
The whole included race, his purposed prey. 
In bower and field he sought, where any tuft 
Of grove or garden-plot more pleasant lay, 
Their tendance or plantation for delight; 
By fountain or by shady rivulet         420
He sought them both, but wished his hap might find 
Eve separate; he wished, but not with hope 
Of what so seldom chanced, when to his wish, 
Beyond his hope, Eve separate he spies, 
Veiled in a cloud of fragrance, where she stood,         425
Half-spied, so thick the roses bushing round 
About her glowed, oft stooping to support 
Each flower of tender stalk, whose head, though gay 
Carnation, purple, azure, or specked with gold, 
Hung drooping unsustained. Them she upstays         430
Gently with myrtle band, mindless the while 
Herself, though fairest unsupported flower, 
From her best prop so far, and storm so nigh. 
Nearer he drew, and many a walk traversed 
Of stateliest covert, cedar, pine, or palm;         435
Then voluble and bold, now hid, now seen 
Among thick-woven arborets, and flowers 
Imbordered on each bank, the hand of Eve: 
Spot more delicious than those gardens feigned 
Or of revived Adonis, or renowned         440
Alcinoüs, host of old Laertes’ son, 
Or that, not mystic, where the sapient king 
Held dalliance with his fair Egyptian spouse. 
Much he the place admired, the person more. 
As one who, long in populous city pent,         445
Where houses thick and sewers annoy the air, 
Forth issuing on a summer’s morn, to breathe 
Among the pleasant villages and farms 
Adjoined, from each thing met conceives delight— 
The smell of grain, or tedded grass, or kine,         450
Or dairy, each rural sight, each rural sound— 
If chance with nymph-like step fair virgin pass, 
What pleasing seemed for her now pleases more, 
She most, and in her look sums all delight: 
Such pleasure took the Serpent to behold         455
This flowery plat, the sweet recess of Eve 
Thus early, thus alone. Her heavenly form 
Angelic, but more soft and feminine, 
Her graceful innocence, her every air 
Of gesture or least action, overawed         460
His malice, and with rapine sweet bereaved 
His fierceness of the fierce intent it brought. 
That space the Evil One abstracted stood 
From his own evil, and for the time remained 
Stupidly good, of enmity disarmed,         465
Of guile, of hate, of envy, of revenge. 
But the hot hell that always in him burns, 
Though in mid Heaven, soon ended his delight, 
And tortures him now more, the more he sees 
Of pleasure not for him ordained. Then soon         470
Fierce hate he recollects, and all his thoughts 
Of mischief, gratulating, thus excites:— 
  “Thoughts, whither have ye led me? with what sweet 
Compulsion thus transported to forget 
What hither brought us? hate, not love, nor hope         475
Of Paradise for Hell, 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 haughty, and of limb 
Heroic built, though of terrestrial mould;         485
Foe not informidable, exempt from wound— 
I not; so much hath Hell debased, and pain 
Infeebled me, to what I was in Heaven. 
She fair, divinely fair, fit love for Gods, 
Not terrible, though terror be in love,         490
And beauty, not approached by stronger hate, 
Hate stronger under show of love well feigned— 
The way which to her ruin now I tend.” 
  So spake the Enemy of Mankind, enclosed 
In serpent, inmate bad, and toward Eve         495
Addressed his way—not with indented wave, 
Prone on the ground, as since, but on his rear, 
Circular base of rising folds, that towered 
Fold above fold, a surging maze; his head 
Crested aloft, and carbuncle his eyes;         500
With burnished neck of verdant gold, erect 
Amidst his circling spires, that on the grass 
Floated redundant. Pleasing was his shape 
And lovely; never since the serpent kind 
Lovelier—not those that in Illyria changed         505
Hermione and Cadmus, or the God 
In Epidaurus; nor to which transformed 
Ammonian Jove, or Capitoline, was seen, 
He with Olympias, this with her who bore 
Scipio, the highth of Rome. With tract oblique         510
At first, as one who sought access but feared 
To interrupt, sidelong he works his way. 
As when a ship, by skilful steersman wrought 
Nigh river’s mouth or foreland, where the wind 
Veers oft, as oft so steers, and shifts her sail,         515
So varied he, and of his tortuous train 
Curled many a wanton wreath in sight of Eve, 
To lure her eye. She, busied, heard the sound 
Of rustling leaves, but minded not, as used 
To such disport before her through the field         520
From every beast, more duteous at her call 
Than at Circean call the herd disguised. 
He, bolder now, uncalled before her stood, 
But as in gaze admiring. Oft he bowed 
His turret crest and sleek enamelled neck,         525
Fawning, and licked the ground whereon she trod. 
His gentle dumb expression turned at length 
The eye of Eve to mark his play; he, glad 
Of her attention gained, 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 heaven of mildness, with disdain, 
Displeased that I approach thee thus, and gaze         535
Insatiate, I thus single, nor have feared 
Thy awful brow, more awful thus retired. 
Fairest resemblance of thy Maker fair, 
Thee all things living gaze on, all things thine 
By gift, and thy celestial beauty adore,         540
With ravishment beheld—there best beheld 
Where universally admired. But here, 
In this enclosure wild, these beasts among, 
Beholders rude, and shallow to discern 
Half what in thee is fair, one man except,         545
Who sees thee (and what is one?) who shouldst be seen 
A Goddess among Gods, adored and served 
By Angels numberless, thy daily train?” 
  So glozed the Tempter, and his proem tuned. 
Into the heart of Eve his words made way,         550
Though at the voice much marvelling; at length, 
Not unamazed, she thus in answer spake:— 
  “What may this mean? Language of Man pronounced 
By tongue of brute, and human sense expressed! 
The first at least of these I thought denied         555
To beasts, whom God on their creation-day 
Created mute to all articulate sound; 
The latter I demur, for in their looks 
Much reason, and in their actions, oft appears. 
Thee, Serpent, subtlest beast of all the field         560
I knew, but not with human voice endued; 
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:         565
Say, for such wonder claims attention due.” 
  To whom the guileful Tempter thus replied:— 
“Empress of this fair World, resplendent Eve! 
Easy to me it is to tell thee all 
What thou command’st, and right thou shouldst be obeyed.         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 discerned 
Or sex, and apprehended nothing high: 
Till on a day, roving the field, I chanced         575
A goodly tree far distant to behold, 
Loaden with fruit of fairest colours mixed, 
Ruddy and gold. In nearer drew to gaze; 
When from the boughs a savoury odour blown, 
Grateful to appetite, more pleased my sense         580
Than smell of sweetest fennel, or the teats 
Of ewe or goat dropping with milk at even, 
Unsucked of lamb or kid, that tend their play. 
To satisfy the sharp desire I had 
Of tasting those fair Apples, I resolved         585
Not to defer; hunger and thirst at once, 
Powerful persuaders, quickened at the scent 
Of that alluring fruit, urged me so keen. 
About the mossy trunk I wound me soon; 
For, high from ground, the branches would require         590
Thy utmost reach, or Adam’s; 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 plenty hung 
Tempting so nigh, to pluck and eat my fill         595
I spared not; for such pleasure till that hour 
At feed or fountain never had I found. 
Sated at length, ere long I might perceive 
Strange alteration in me, to degree 
Of Reason in my inward powers, and Speech         600
Wanted not long, though to this shape retained. 
Thenceforth to speculations high or deep 
I turned my thoughts, and with capacious mind 
Considered all things visible in Heaven, 
Or Earth, or Middle, all things fair and good.         605
But all that fair and good in thy Divine 
Semblance, and in thy beauty’s heavenly ray, 
United I beheld—no fair to thine 
Equivalent or second; which compelled 
Me thus, though importune perhaps, to come         610
And gaze, and worship thee of right declared 
Sovran of creatures, universal Dame!” 
  So talked the spirited sly Snake; and Eve, 
Yet more amazed, unwary thus replied:— 
  “Serpent, thy overpraising leaves in doubt         615
The virtue of that Fruit, in thee first proved. 
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 untouched, 
Still hanging incorruptible, till men 
Grow up to their provision, and more hands 
Help to disburden Nature of her bearth.” 
  To whom the wily Adder, blithe and glad;—         625
“Empress, the way is ready, and not long— 
Beyond a row of myrtles, on a flat, 
Fast by a fountain, one small thicket past 
Of blowing myrrh and balm. If thou accept 
My conduct, I can bring thee thither soon.”         630
  “Lead, then,” said Eve. He, leading, swiftly rowled 
In tangles, and made intricate seem straight, 
To mischief swift. Hope elevates, and joy 
Brightens his crest. As when a wandering fire, 
Compact of unctuous vapour, which the night         635
Condenses, and the cold invirons round, 
Kindled through agitation to a flame 
(Which oft, they say, some evil Spirit attends), 
Hovering and blazing with delusive light, 
Misleads the amazed night-wanderer from his way         640
To bogs and mires, and oft through pond or pool, 
There swallowed up and lost, from succour far: 
So glistered the dire Snake, and into fraud 
Led Eve, our credulous mother, to the Tree 
Of Prohibition, root of all our woe;         645
Which when she saw, thus to her guide she spake:— 
  “Serpent, we might have spared our coming hither, 
Fruitless to me, though fruit be here to excess, 
The credit of whose virtue 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 ourselves; our Reason is our Law.” 
  To whom the Tempter guilefully replied:—         655
“Indeed! Hath God then said that of the fruit 
Of all these garden-trees ye shall not eat, 
Yet lords declared of all in Earth or Air?” 
  To whom thus Eve, yet sinless:—“Of the fruit 
Of each tree in the garden we may eat;         660
But of the fruit of this fair Tree, amidst 
The Garden, God hath said, ‘Ye shall not eat 
Thereof, nor shall ye touch it, lest ye die.’“ 
  She scarce had said, though brief, when now more bold 
The Tempter, but, with shew of zeal and love         665
To Man, and indignation at his wrong, 
New part puts on, and, as to passion moved, 
Fluctuates disturbed, yet comely, and in act 
Raised, as of some great matter to begin. 
As when of old some orator renowned         670
In Athens or free Rome, where eloquence 
Flourished, since mute, to some great cause addressed, 
Stood in himself collected, while each part, 
Motion, each act, won audience ere the tongue 
Sometimes in highth began, as no delay         675
Of preface brooking through his zeal of right: 
So standing, moving, or to highth upgrown, 
The Tempter, all impassioned, thus began:— 
“O sacred, wise, and wisdom-giving Plant, 
Mother of science! now I feel thy power         680
Within me clear, not only to discern 
Things in their causes, but to trace the ways 
Of highest agents, deemed however wise. 
Queen of this Universe! do not believe 
Those rigid threats of death. Ye shall not die.         685
How should ye? By the Fruit? it gives you life 
To knowledge. By the Threatener? look on me, 
Me who have touched and tasted, yet both live, 
And life more perfect have attained than Fate 
Meant me, by venturing higher than my lot.         690
Shall that be shut to Man which to the Beast 
Is open? or will God incense his ire 
For such a petty trespass, and not praise 
Rather your dauntless virtue, whom the pain 
Of death denounced, whatever thing Death be,         695
Deterred not from achieving what might lead 
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 shunned? 
God, therefore, cannot hurt ye and be just;         700
Not just, not God; not feared then, nor obeyed: 
Your fear itself of death removes the fear. 
Why, then, was this forbid? Why but to awe, 
Why but to keep ye low and ignorant, 
His worshipers? He knows that in the day         705
Ye eat thereof your eyes, that seem so clear, 
Yet are but dim, shall perfectly be then 
Opened and cleared, 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; ye, of human, Gods. 
So ye shall die perhaps, by putting off 
Human, to put on Gods—death to be wished, 
Though threatened, which no worse than this can bring!         715
And what are Gods, that Man may not become 
As they, participating godlike 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
Warmed by the Sun, producing every kind; 
Them nothing. If they all things, who enclosed 
Knowledge of Good and Evil in this Tree, 
That whoso eats thereof forthwith attains 
Wisdom without their leave? and wherein lies         725
The 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 envy? and can envy dwell 
In Heavenly breasts? 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 easy entrance won. 
Fixed on the Fruit she gazed, which to behold         735
Might tempt alone; and in her ears the sound 
Yet rung of his persuasive words, impregned 
With reason, to her seeming, and with truth. 
Meanwhile the hour of noon drew on, and waked 
An eager appetite, raised by the smell         740
So savoury of that Fruit, which with desire, 
Inclinable now grown to touch or taste, 
Solicited her longing eye; yet first, 
Pausing a while, thus to herself she mused:— 
  “Great are thy virtues, doubtless, best of Fruits,         745
Though kept from Man, and worthy to be admired, 
Whose taste, too long forborne, at first assay 
Gave elocution to the mute, and taught 
The tongue not made for speech to speak thy praise. 
Thy praise he also who forbids thy use         750
Conceals 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 infers the good 
By thee communicated, and our want;         755
For good unknown sure is not bad, 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 bind not. But, if Death         760
Bind us with after-bands, what profits then 
Our inward freedom? In the day we eat 
Of this fair Fruit, our doom is we shall die! 
How dies the Serpent? He hath eaten, and lives, 
And knows, and speaks, and reasons, and discerns,         765
Irrational till then. For us alone 
Was death invented? or to us denied 
This intellectual food, for beasts reserved? 
For beasts it seems; yet that one beast which first 
Hath tasted envies not, but brings with joy         770
The good befallen him, author unsuspect, 
Friendly to Man, far from deceit or guile. 
What fear I, then? rather, what know to fear 
Under this ignorance of Good and Evil, 
Of God or Death, of law or penalty?         775
Here grows the cure of all, this fruit divine, 
Fair to the eye, inviting to the taste, 
Of virtue to make wise. What hinders, then, 
To reach, and feed at once both body and mind?” 
  So saying, her rash hand in evil hour         780
Forth-reaching to the Fruit, she plucked, 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 guilty Serpent, and well might, for Eve,         785
Intent now only her taste, naught else 
Regarded; such delight till then, as seemed, 
In fruit she never tasted, whether true, 
Or fancied so through expectation high 
Of knowledge; nor was Godhead from her thought.         790
Greedily she ingorged without restraint, 
And knew not eating death. Satiate at length, 
And hightened as with wine, jocond and boon, 
Thus to herself she pleasingly began:— 
  “O sovran, virtuous, precious of all trees         795
In Paradise! of operation blest 
To sapience, hitherto obscured, infamed, 
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, offered free to all; 
Till, dieted by thee, I grow mature 
In knowledge, as the Gods who all things know, 
Though others envy what they cannot give—         805
For, had the gift been theirs, it had not here 
Thus grown! Experience, next to thee I owe, 
Best guide: not following thee, I had remained 
In ignorance; thou open’st Wisdom’s way, 
And giv’st access, though secret she retire.         810
And I perhaps am secret: Heaven 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         815
About him. But to Adam in what sort 
Shall I appear? Shall I to him make known 
As yet my change, and give him to partake 
Full happiness with me, or rather not, 
But keep the odds of knowledge in my power         820
Without copartner? so to add what wants 
In female sex, the more to draw his love, 
And render me more equal, and perhaps— 
A thing not undesirable—sometime 
Superior; for, inferior, who is free?         825
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! Confirmed, 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 turned, 
But first low reverence done, as to the Power         835
That dwelt within, whose presence had infused 
Into the plant sciential sap, derived 
From nectar, drink of Gods. Adam the while, 
Waiting desirous her return, had wove 
Of choicest flowers a garland, to adorn         840
Her tresses, and her rural labours crown, 
As reapers oft are wont their harvest-queen. 
Great joy he promised to his thoughts, and new 
Solace in her return, so long delayed; 
Yet oft his heart, divine of something ill,         845
Misgave him. He the faltering 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, 
Scarce from the Tree returning; in her hand         850
A bough of fairest fruit, that downy smiled, 
New gathered, and ambrosial smell diffused. 
To him she hasted; in her face excuse 
Came prologue, and apology to prompt, 
Which, with bland words at will, she thus addressed:—         855
  “Hast thou not wondered, Adam, at my stay? 
Thee I have missed, and thought it long, deprived 
Thy presence—agony of love till now 
Not felt, nor shall be twice; for never more 
Mean I to try, what rash untried I sought,         860
The pain of absence from thy sight. But strange 
Hath been the cause, and wonderful to hear. 
This Tree is not, as we are told, a Tree 
Of danger tasted, nor to evil unknown 
Opening the way, but of divine effect         865
To open eyes, and make them Gods who taste; 
And hath been tasted such. The Serpent wise, 
Or not restrained as we, or not obeying, 
Hath eaten of the Fruit, and is become 
Not dead, as we are threatened, but thenceforth         870
Endued with human voice and human sense, 
Reasoning to admiration, and with me 
Persuasively hath so prevailed that I 
Have also tasted, and have also found 
The effects to correspond—opener mine eyes,         875
Dim 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, unshared with thee, and odious soon.         880
Thou, therefore, also taste, that equal lot 
May join us, equal joy, as equal love; 
Lest, thou not tasting, different degree 
Disjoin us, and I then too late renounce 
Deity for thee, when fate will not permit.”         885
  Thus Eve with countenance blithe her story told; 
But in her cheek distemper flushing glowed. 
On the other side, Adam, soon as he heard 
The fatal trespass done by Eve, amazed, 
Astonied stood and blank, while horror chill         890
Ran through his veins, and all his joints relaxed. 
From his slack hand the garland wreathed for Eve 
Down dropt, and all the faded roses shed. 
Speechless he stood and pale, till thus at length 
First to himself he inward silence broke:—         895
  “O fairest of Creation, last and best 
Of all God’s works, creature in whom excelled 
Whatever can to sight or thought be formed, 
Holy, divine, good, amiable, or sweet! 
How art thou lost! how on a sudden lost,         900
Defaced, deflowered, and now to death devote! 
Rather, how hast thou yielded to transgress 
The strict forbiddance, how to violate 
The sacred Fruit forbidden? Some cursed fraud 
Of enemy hath beguiled thee, yet unknown,         905
And me with thee hath ruined; for with thee 
Certain my resolution is to die. 
How can I live without thee? how forgo 
Thy sweet converse, and love so dearly joined, 
To live again in these wild 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         915
Mine never shall be parted, bliss or woe.” 
  So having said, as one from sad dismay 
Recomforted, and, after thoughts disturbed, 
Submitting to what seemed remediless, 
Thus in calm mood his words to Eve he turned:—         920
  “Bold deed thou hast presumed, adventrous Eve, 
And peril great provoked, who thus hast dared 
Had it been only coveting to eye 
That sacred Food, sacred to abstinence; 
Much more to taste it, under ban to touch.         925
But past who can recall, or done undo? 
Not God Omnipotent, nor Fate! Yet so 
Perhaps thou shalt not die; perhaps the fact 
Is not so hainous now-foretasted Fruit, 
Profaned first by the Serpent, by him first         930
Made common and unhallowed ere our taste, 
Nor yet on him found deadly. He yet lives— 
Lives, as thou saidst, and gains to live, as Man, 
Higher degree of life: inducement strong 
To us, as likely, tasting, to attain         935
Proportional ascent; which cannot be 
But to be Gods, or Angels, Demi-gods. 
Nor can I think that God, Creator wise, 
Though threatening, will in earnest so destroy 
Us, his prime creatures, dignified so high,         940
Set over all his works; which, in our fall, 
For us created, needs with us must fail, 
Dependent made. So God shall uncreate, 
Be frustrate, do, undo, and labour lose— 
Not well conceived of God; who, though his power         945
Creation could repeat, yet would be loth 
Us to abolish, lest the Adversary 
Triumph and say: ‘Fickle their state whom God 
Most favours; who can please him long? Me first 
He ruined, now Mankind; whom will he next?’—         950
Matter of scorn not to be given the Foe. 
However, I with thee have fixed my lot, 
Certain to undergo like doom. If death 
Consort with thee, death is to me as life; 
So forcible within my heart I feel         955
The bond of Nature draw me to my own— 
My own is thee; for what thou art is mine. 
Our state cannot be severed; we are one, 
One flesh; to lose thee were to lose myself.” 
  So Adam; and thus Eve to him replied:—         960
“O glorious trial of exceeding love, 
Illustrious evidence, example high! 
Ingaging me to emulate; but, short 
Of thy perfection, how shall I attain, 
Adam? from whose dear side I boast me sprung,         965
And gladly of our union hear thee speak, 
One heart, one soul in both; whereof good proof 
This day affords, declaring thee resolved, 
Rather than death, or aught than death more dread, 
Shall separate us, linked in love so dear,         970
To undergo with me one guilt, one crime, 
If any be, of tasting this fair Fruit; 
Whose virtue (for of good still good proceeds, 
Direct, or by occasion) hath presented 
This happy trial of thy love, which else         975
So eminently never had been known. 
Were it I thought death menaced would ensue 
This my attempt, I would sustain alone 
The worst, and not persuade thee—rather die 
Deserted than oblige thee with a fact         980
Pernicious to thy peace, chiefly assured 
Remarkably so late of thy so true, 
So faithful love unequalled. But I feel 
Far otherwise the event—not death, but life 
Augmented, opened eyes, new hopes, new joys,         985
Taste so divine that what of sweet before 
Hath touched my sense flat seems to this and harsh. 
On my experience, Adam, freely taste, 
And fear of death deliver to the winds.” 
  So saying, she embraced him, and for joy         990
Tenderly wept, much won that he his love 
Had so ennobled as of choice to incur 
Divine displeasure for her sake, or death. 
In recompense (for such compliance bad 
Such recompense best merits), from the bough         995
She gave him of that fair enticing Fruit 
With liberal hand. He scrupled not to eat, 
Against his better knowledge, not deceived, 
But fondly overcome with female charm. 
Earth trembled from her entrails, as again         1000
In pangs, and Nature gave a second groan; 
Sky loured, and, muttering thunder, some sad drops 
Wept at completing of the mortal Sin 
Original; while Adam took no thought, 
Eating his fill, nor Eve to iterate         1005
Her former trespass feared, the more to soothe 
Him with her loved society; that now, 
As with new wine intoxicated both, 
They swim in mirth, and fancy that they feel 
Divinity within them breeding wings         1010
Wherewith to scorn the Earth. But that false Fruit 
Far other operation first displayed, 
Carnal desire inflaming. He on Eve 
Began to cast lascivious eyes; she him 
As wantonly repaid; in lust they burn,         1015
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
Yield thee; so well this day thou hast purveyed. 
Much pleasure we have lost, while we abstained 
From this delightful Fruit, nor known till now 
True relish, tasting. If such pleasure be 
In things to us forbidden, it might be wished         1025
For this one Tree had been forbidden ten. 
But come; so well refreshed, now let us play, 
As meet is, after such delicious fare; 
For never did thy beauty, since the day 
I saw thee first and wedded thee, adorned         1030
With all perfections, so enflame my sense 
With ardour to enjoy thee, fairer now 
Than ever-bounty of this virtuous Tree!” 
  So said he, and forbore not glance or toy 
Of amorous intent, well understood         1035
Of Eve, whose eye darted contagious fire. 
Her hand he seized, and to a shady bank, 
Thick overhead with verdant roof imbowered, 
He led her, nothing loth; flowers were the couch, 
Pansies, and violets, and asphodel,         1040
And hyacinth—Earth’s freshest, softest lap. 
There they their fill of love and love’s disport 
Took largely, of their mutual gilt the seal, 
The solace of their sin, till dewy sleep 
Oppressed them, wearied with their amorous play.         1045
  Soon as the force of that fallacious Fruit, 
That with exhilarating vapour bland 
About their spirits had played, and inmost powers 
Made err, was now exhaled, and grosser sleep, 
Bred of unkindly fumes, with conscious dreams         1050
Incumbered, now had left them, up they rose 
As from unrest, and, each the other viewing, 
Soon found their eyes how opened, and their minds 
How darkened. Innocence, that as a veil 
Had shadowed them from knowing ill, was gone;         1055
Just confidence, and native righteousness, 
And honour

Paradise Lost: The Tenth Book
 
 
  THE ARGUMENT.—Man’s transgression known, the guardian Angels forsake Paradise, and return up to Heaven to approve their vigilance, and are approved; 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, clothes them both, and reascends. Sin and Death, sitting till then at the gates of Hell, by wondrous sympathy feeling the success of Satan in this new World, and the sin by Man there committed, resolve to sit no longer confined in Hell, but to follow Satan, their 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; their 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, transformed, with himself also, suddenly into Serpents, according to his doom given 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 foretells 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 fallen condition, heavily bewails, rejects the condolement of Eve; she persists, and at length appeases him: then, to evade the curse likely to fall on their offspring, proposes to Adam violent ways; which he approves not, but, conceiving better hope, puts her in mind of the late promise made them, that her seed should be revenged on the Serpent, and exhorts her, with him, to seek peace of the offended Deity by repentance and supplication.
 
 
MEANWHILE the hainous and despiteful act 
Of Satan done in Paradise, and how 
He, in the Serpent, had perverted Eve, 
Her Husband she, to taste the fatal Fruit, 
Was known in Heaven; for what can scape the eye         5
Of God all—seeing, or deceive his heart 
Omniscient? who, in all things wise and just, 
Hindered not Satan to attempt the mind 
Of Man, with strength entire and free will armed 
Complete to have discovered and repulsed         10
Whatever wiles of foe or seeming friend. 
For still they knew, and ought to have still remembered, 
The high injunction not to taste that Fruit, 
Whoever tempted; which they not obeying 
Incurred (what could they less?) the penalty,         15
And, manifold in sin, deserved to fall. 
Up into Heaven from Paradise in haste 
The Angelic Guards ascended, mute and sad 
For Man; for of his state by this they knew, 
Much wondering how the subtle Fiend had stolen         20
Entrance unseen. Soon as the unwelcome news 
From Earth arrived at Heaven-gate, displeased 
All were who heard; dim sadness did not spare 
That time celestial visages, yet, mixed 
With pity, violated not their bliss.         25
About the new-arrived in multitudes, 
The Ethereal People ran, to hear and know 
How all befell. They towards the Throne supreme, 
Accountable, made haste, to make appear, 
With righteous plea, their utmost vigilance,         30
And easily approved; when the Most High, 
Eternal Father, from his secret Cloud 
Amidst, in thunder uttered thus his voice:— 
  “Assembled Angels, and ye Powers returned 
From unsuccessful charge, be not dismayed         35
Nor troubled 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 crossed the gulf from Hell. 
I told ye then he should prevail, and speed         40
On his bad errand—Man should be seduced, 
And flattered out of all, believing lies 
Against his Maker; no decree of mine, 
Concurring to necessitate his fall, 
Or touch with lightest moment of impulse         45
His free will, to her own inclining left 
In even scale. But fallen he is; and now 
What rests, but that the mortal sentence pass 
On his transgression, Death denounced that day 
Which he presumes already vain and void,         50
Because not yet inflicted, as he feared, 
By some immediate stroke, but soon shall find 
Forbearance no acquittance ere day end. 
Justice shall not return, as bounty, scorned. 
But whom send I to judge them? whom but thee,         55
Vicegerent Son? To thee I have transferred 
All judgment, whether in Heaven, or Earth, or Hell. 
Easy it may be seen that I intend 
Mercy colleague with justice, sending thee, 
Man’s Friend, his Mediator, his designed         60
Both Ransom and Redeemer voluntary, 
And destined Man himself to judge Man fallen.” 
  So spake the Father; and, unfolding bright 
Toward the right hand his glory, on the Son 
Blazed forth unclouded deity. He full         65
Resplendent all his Father manifest 
Expressed, and thus divinely answered mild:— 
  “Father Eternal, thine is to decree; 
Mine both in Heaven and Earth to do thy will 
Supreme, that thou in me, thy Son beloved,         70
May’st ever rest well pleased. I go to judge 
On Earth these thy transgressors; but thou know’st, 
Whoever judged, the worst on me must light, 
When time shall be; for so I undertook 
Before thee, and, not repenting, this obtain         75
Of right, that I may mitigate their doom 
On me derived. Yet I shall temper so 
Justice with mercy as may illustrate most 
Them fully satisfied, and thee appease. 
Attendance none shall need, nor train, where none         80
Are to behold the judgment but the judged, 
Those two; the third best absent is condemned, 
Convict by flight, and rebel to all law; 
Conviction to the Serpent none belongs.” 
  Thus saying, from his radiant Seat he rose         85
Of high collateral glory. 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 straight; the speed of Gods         90
Time counts not, though with swiftest minutes winged. 
  Now was the Sun in western cadence low 
From noon, and gentle airs due at their hour 
To fan the Earth now waked, and usher in 
The evening cool, when he, from wrauth more cool,         95
Came, the mild Judge and Intercessor both, 
To sentence Man. The voice of God they heard 
Now walking in the Garden, by soft winds 
Brought to their ears, while day declined; they heard, 
And from his presence hid themselves among         100
The thickest trees, both man and wife, till God, 
Approaching, thus to Adam called aloud:— 
  “Where art thou, Adam, wont with joy to meet 
My coming, seen far off? I miss thee here, 
Not pleased thus entertained, with solitude,         105
Where obvious duty erewhile appeared unsought. 
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, discountenanced both, and discomposed.         110
Love was not in their looks, either to God 
Or to each other, but apparent guilt, 
And shame, and perturbation, and despair, 
Anger, and obstinacy, and hate, and guile. 
Whence Adam, faltering long, thus answered brief:—         115
  “I heard thee in the Garden, and, of thy voice 
Afraid, being naked, hid myself.” To whom 
The gracious Judge, without revile, replied:— 
  “My voice thou oft has heard, and hast not feared, 
But still rejoiced; 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, replied:— 
  “O Heaven! in evil strait this day I stand         125
Before my Judge—either to undergo 
Myself the total crime, or to accuse 
My other self, the partner of my life, 
Whose failing, while her faith to me remains, 
I should conceal, and not expose to blame         130
By my complaint. But strict necessity 
Subdues me, and calamitous constraint, 
Lest on my head both sin and punishment, 
However insupportable, be all 
Devolved; though, should I hold my peace, yet thou         135
Wouldst easily detect what I conceal. 
This Woman, whom thou mad’st to be my help, 
And gav’st me as thy perfect gift, so good, 
So fit, so acceptáble, so divine, 
That from her hand I could suspect no ill,         140
And what she did, whatever in itself, 
Her doing seemed to justify the deed— 
She gave me of the Tree, and I did eat.” 
To whom the Sovran Presence thus replied:— 
  “Was she thy God, that her thou didst obey         145
Before his voice? or was she made thy guide, 
Superior, or but equal, that to her 
Thou didst resign thy manhood, and the place 
Wherein God set thee above her, made of thee 
And for thee, whose perfection far excelled         150
Hers in all real dignity? Adorned 
She was indeed, and lovely, to attract 
Thy love, not thy subjection; and her gifts 
Were such as under government well seemed— 
Unseemly to bear rule; which was thy part         155
And person, hadst thou known thyself 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 overwhelmed, 
Confessing soon, yet not before her Judge         160
Bold or loquacious, thus abashed replied:— 
“The Serpent me beguiled, and I did eat.” 
  Which when the Lord God heard, without delay 
To judgment he proceeded on the accused 
Serpent, though brute, unable to transfer         165
The guilt on him who made him instrument 
Of mischief, and polluted from the end 
Of his creation—justly then accursed, 
As vitiated in nature. More to know 
Concerned not Man (since he no further knew),         170
Nor altered his offence; yet God at last 
To Satan, first in sin, his doom applied, 
Though in mysterious terms, judged as then best; 
And on the Serpent thus his curse let fall:— 
  “Because thou hast done this, thou art accursed         175
Above all cattle, each beast of the field; 
Upon thy belly grovelling thou shalt go, 
And dust shalt eat all the days of thy life. 
Between thee and the Woman I will put 
Enmity, and between thine and her seed;         180
Her seed shall bruise thy head, thou bruise his heel.” 
  So spake this oracle—then verified 
When Jesus, son of Mary, second Eve, 
Saw Satan fall like lightning down from Heaven, 
Prince of the Air; then, rising from his grave,         185
Spoiled Principalities and Powers, triumphed 
In open shew, and, with ascension bright, 
Captivity led captive through the Air, 
The realm itself of Satan, long usurped, 
Whom He shall tread at last under our feet,         190
Even He who now foretold his fatal bruise, 
And to the Woman thus his sentence turned:— 
  “Thy sorrow I will greatly multiply 
By thy conception; children thou shalt bring 
In sorrow forth, and to thy husband’s will         195
Thine shall submit; he over thee shall rule.” 
  On Adam last thus judgment he pronounced:— 
“Because thou hast hearkened to the voice of thy wife, 
And eaten of the Tree concerning which 
I charged thee, saying, Thou shalt not eat thereof,         200
Curs’d is the ground for thy sake; thou in sorrow 
Shalt eat thereof all the days of thy life; 
Thorns also and thistles it shall bring thee forth 
Unbid; and thou shalt eat the herb of the field; 
In the sweat of thy face thou shalt eat bread,         205
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 return.” 
  So judged he Man, both Judge and Saviour sent, 
And the instant stroke of death, denounced that day,         210
Removed far off; then, pitying how they stood 
Before him naked to the air, that now 
Must suffer change, disdained not to begin 
Thenceforth the form of servant to assume. 
As when he washed his servants’ feet, so now,         215
As Father of his family, he clad 
Their nakedness with skins of beasts, or slain, 
Or, as the snake, with youthful coat repaid; 
And thought not much to clothe his enemies. 
Nor he their outward only with the skins         220
Of beasts, but inward nakedness, much more 
Opprobrious, with his robe of righteousness 
Arraying, covered from his Father’s sight. 
To him with swift ascent he up returned, 
Into his blissful bosom reassumed         225
In glory as of old; to him, appeased, 
All, though all-knowing, what had passed with Man 
Recounted, mixing intercession sweet. 
  Meanwhile, ere thus was sinned and judged on Earth, 
Within the gates of Hell sat Sin and Death,         230
In counterview within the gates, that now 
Stood open wide, belching outrageous flame 
Far into Chaos, since the Fiend passed through, 
Sin opening; who thus now to Death began:— 
  “O Son, why sit we here, each other viewing         235
Idly, while Satan, our great author, thrives 
In other worlds, and happier sent provides 
For us, his offspring dear? It cannot be 
But that success attends him; if mishap 
Ere this he had returned, with fury driven         240
By his Avengers, since no place like this 
Can fit his punishment, or their revenge. 
Methinks I feel new strength within me rise, 
Wings growing, and dominion given me large 
Beyond this Deep—whatever draws me on,         245
Or sympathy, or some connatural force, 
Powerful at greatest distance to unite 
With secret amity things of like kind 
By secretest conveyance. Thou, my shade 
Inseparable, must with me along;         250
For Death from Sin no power can separate. 
But, lest the difficulty of passing back 
Stay his return perhaps over this gulf 
Impassable, impervious, let us try 
(Adventrous work, yet to thy power and mine         255
Not unagreeable!) to found a path 
Over this Main from Hell to that new World 
Where Satan now prevails—a monument 
Of merit high to all the infernal Host, 
Easing their passage hence, for intercourse         260
Or transmigration, as their lot shall lead. 
Nor can I miss the way, so strongly drawn 
By this new-felt attraction and instinct.” 
  Whom thus the meagre Shadow answered soon:— 
“Go whither fate and inclination strong         265
Leads thee; I shall not lag behind, nor err 
The way, thou leading: such a scent I draw 
Of carnage, prey innumerable, and taste 
The savour of death from all things there that live. 
Nor shall I do the work thou enterprisest         270
Be wanting, but afford thee equal aid.” 
  So saying, with delight he snuffed the smell 
Of mortal change on Earth. As when a flock 
Of ravenous fowl, though many a league remote, 
Against the day of battle, to a field         275
Where armies lie encamped come flying, lured 
With scent of living carcases designed 
For death the following day in bloody fight; 
So scented the grim Feature, and upturned 
His nostril wide into the murky air,         280
Sagacious of his quarry from so far. 
Then both, from out Hell-gates, into the waste 
Wide anarchy of Chaos, damp and dark, 
Flew diverse, and, with power (their power was great) 
Hovering upon the waters, what they met         285
Solid or slimy, as in raging sea 
Tossed 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 the imagined way 
Beyond Petsora eastward to the rich 
Cathaian coast. The aggregated soil 
Death with his mace petrific, cold and dry, 
As with a trident smote, and fixed as firm         295
As Delos, floating once; the rest his look 
Bound with Gorgonian rigour not to move, 
And with asphaltic slime; broad as the gate, 
Deep to the roots of Hell the gathered beach 
They fastened, and the mole immense wraught on         300
Over the foaming Deep high-arched, a bridge 
Of length prodigious, joining to the wall 
Immovable of this now fenceless World, 
Forfeit to Death—from hence a passage broad, 
Smooth, easy, inoffensive, down to Hell.         305
So, if great things to small may be compared, 
Xerxes, the liberty of Greece to yoke, 
From Susa, his Memnonian palace high, 
Came to the sea, and, over Hellespont 
Bridging his way, Europe with Asia joined,         310
And scourged with many a stroke the indignant waves. 
Now had they brought the work by wondrous art 
Pontifical—a ridge of pendent rock 
Over the vexed Abyss, following the track 
Of Satan, to the self-same place where he         315
First lighted from his wing and landed safe 
From out of Chaos—to the outside bare 
Of this round World. With pins 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 Heaven 
And of this World, and on the left hand Hell, 
With long reach interposed; three several ways 
In sight of each of these three places led. 
And now their way to Earth they had described,         325
To Paradise first tending, when, behold 
Satan, in likeness of an Angel bright, 
Betwixt the Centaur and the Scorpion steering 
His zenith, while the Sun in Aries rose! 
Disguised he came; but those his children dear         330
Their parent soon discerned, though in disguise. 
He, after Eve seduced, unminded slunk 
Into the wood fast by, and, changing shape 
To observe the sequel, saw his guileful act 
By Eve, though all unweeting, seconded         335
Upon her husband—saw their shame that sought 
Vain covertures; but, when he saw descend 
The Son of God to judge them, terrified 
He fled, not hoping to escape, but shun 
The present—fearing, guilty, what his wrauth         340
Might suddenly inflict; that past, returned 
By night, and, listening where the hapless pair 
Sat in their sad discourse and various plaint, 
Thence gathered his own doom; which understood 
Not instant, but of future time, with joy         345
And tidings fraught, to Hell he now returned, 
And at the brink of Chaos, near the foot 
Of this new wondrous pontifice, unhoped 
Met who to meet him came, his offspring dear. 
Great joy was at their meeting, and at sight         350
Of that stupendious bridge his joy increased. 
Long he admiring stood, till Sin, his fair 
Inchanting daughter, thus the silence broke:— 
  “O Parent, these are thy magnific deeds, 
Thy trophies! which thou view’st as not thine own;         355
Thou art their Author and prime Architect. 
For I no sooner in my heart divined 
(My heart, which by a secret harmony 
Still moves with thine, joined in connexion sweet) 
That thou on Earth hadst prospered, 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,         365
Nor this unvoyageable gulf obscure 
Detain from following thy illustrious track. 
Thou hast achieved our liberty, confined 
Within Hell-gates till now; thou us impowered 
To fortify thus far, and overlay         370
With this portentous bridge the dark Abyss. 
Thine now is all this World; thy virtue hath won 
What thy hands builded not; thy wisdom gained, 
With odds, what war hath lost, and fully avenged 
Our foil in Heaven. Here thou shalt Monarch reign,         375
There didst not; there let him still victor sway, 
As battle hath adjudged, from this new World 
Retiring, by his own doom alienated, 
And henceforth monarchy with thee divide 
Of all things, parted by the empyreal bounds,         380
His quadrature, from thy orbicular World, 
Or try thee now more dangerous to his Throne.” 
  Whom thus the Prince of Darkness answered glad:— 
“Fair daughter, and thou, son and grandchild both, 
High proof ye now have given to be the race         385
Of Satan (for I glory in the name, 
Antagonist of Heaven’s Almighty King), 
Amply have merited of me, of all 
The Infernal Empire, that so near Heaven’s door 
Triumphal with triumphal act have met,         390
Mine with this glorious work, and made one realm 
Hell and this World—one realm, one continent 
Of easy thoroughfare. Therefore, while I 
Descend through Darkness, on your road with ease, 
To my associate Powers, them to acquaint         395
With these successes, and with them rejoice 
You two this way, among these numerous orbs, 
All yours, right down to Paradise descend; 
There dwell and reign in bliss; thence on the Earth 
Dominion exercise and in the air,         400
Chiefly on Man, sole lord of all declared; 
Him first make sure your thrall, and lastly kill. 
My substitutes I send ye, and create 
Plenipotent on Earth, of matchless might 
Issuing from me. On your joint vigour now         405
My hold of this new kingdom all depends, 
Through Sin to Death exposed by my exploit. 
If your joint power prevail, the affairs of Hell 
No detriment need fear; go, and be strong.” 
  So saying, he dismissed them; they with speed         410
Their course through thickest constellations held, 
Spreading their bane; the blasted stars looked wan, 
And planets, planet-strook, real eclipse 
Then suffered. The other way Satan went down 
The causey to Hell-gate; on either side         415
Disparted Chaos overbuilt exclaimed, 
And with rebounding surge the bars assailed, 
That scorned his indignation. Through the gate, 
Wide open and unguarded, Satan passed, 
And all about found desolate; for those         420
Appointed to sit there had left their charge, 
Flown to the upper World; the rest were all 
Far to the inland retired, about the walls 
Of Pandemonium, city and proud seat 
Of Lucifer, so by allusion called         425
Of that bright star to Satan paragoned. 
There kept their watch the legions, while the Grand 
In council sat, solicitous what chance 
Might intercept their Emperor sent; so he 
Departing gave command, and they observed.         430
As when the Tartar from his Russian foe, 
By Astracan, over the snowy plains, 
Retires, or Bactrian Sophi, from the horns 
Of Turkish crescent, leaves all waste beyond 
The realm of Aladule, in his retreat         435
To Tauris or Casbeen; so these, the late 
Heaven-banished host, left desert utmost Hell 
Many a dark league, reduced in careful watch 
Round their Metropolis, and now expecting 
Each hour their great Adventurer from the search         440
Of foreign worlds. He through the midst unmarked, 
In shew plebeian Angel militant 
Of lowest order, passed, and, from the door 
Of that Plutonian hall, invisible 
Ascended his high Throne, which, under state         445
Of richest texture spread, at the upper end 
Was placed in regal lustre. Down a while 
He sat, and round about him saw, unseen. 
At last, as from a cloud, his fulgent head 
And shape star-bright appeared, or brighter, clad         450
With what permissive glory since his fall 
Was left him, or false glitter. All amazed 
At that so sudden blaze, the Stygian throng 
Bent their aspect, and whom they wished beheld, 
Their mighty Chief returned: loud was the acclaim.         455
Forth rushed in haste the great consulting Peers, 
Raised from their dark Divan, and with like joy 
Congratulant approached him, who with hand 
Silence, and with these words attention, won:— 
  “Thrones, Dominations, Princedoms, Virtues, Powers!—         460
For in possession such, not only of right, 
I call ye, and declare ye now, returned, 
Successful beyond hope, to lead ye forth 
Triumphant out of this infernal Pit 
Abominable, accursed, the house of woe,         465
And dungeon of our tyrant! Now possess, 
As lords, a spacious World, to our native Heaven 
Little inferior, by my adventure hard 
With peril great achieved. Long were to tell 
What I have done, what suffered, with what pain         470
Voyaged the unreal, vast, unbounded Deep 
Of horrible confusion—over which 
By Sin and Death a broad way now is paved, 
To expedite your glorious march; but I 
Toiled out my uncouth passage, forced to ride         475
The untractable Abyss, plunged in the womb 
Of unoriginal Night and Chaos wild, 
That, jealous of their secrets, fiercely opposed 
My journey strange, with clamorous uproar 
Protesting Fate supreme; thence how I found         480
The new-created World, which fame in Heaven 
Long had foretold, a fabric wonderful, 
Of absolute perfection; therein Man 
Placed in a Paradise, by our exile 
Made happy. Him by fraud I have seduced         485
From his Creator, and, the more to increase 
Your wonder, with an apple! He, thereat 
Offended—worth your laughter!—hath given 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 alarm, 
To range in, and to dwell, and over Man 
To rule, as over all he should have ruled. 
True is, me also he hath judged; or rather 
Me not, but the brute Serpent, in whose shape         495
Man I deceived. That which to me belongs 
Is enmity, which he will put between 
Me and Mankind: 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 the account 
Of my performance; what remains, ye Gods, 
But up and enter now into full bliss?” 
  So having said, a while he stood, expecting 
Their universal shout and high applause         505
To fill his ear; when, contrary, he hears, 
On all sides, from innumerable tongues 
A dismal universal hiss, the sound 
Of public scorn. He wondered, but not long 
Had leisure, wondering at himself now more.         510
His visage drawn he felt to sharp and spare, 
His arms clung to his ribs, his legs entwining 
Each other, till, supplanted, down he fell, 
A monstrous serpent on his belly prone, 
Reluctant, but in vain; a greater power         515
Now ruled him, punished in the shape he sinned, 
According to his doom. He would have spoke, 
But hiss for hiss returned with forkèd tongue 
To forkèd tongue; for now were all transformed 
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 tail— 
Scorpion, and Asp, and Amphisbæna dire, 
Cerastes horned, Hydrus, and Ellops drear,         525
And Dipsas (not so thick swarmed once the soil 
Bedropt with blood of Gordon, or the isle 
Ophiusa); but still greatest the midst, 
Now Dragon grown, larger than whom the Sun 
Ingendered in the Phythian vale on slime,         530
Huge Python; and his power no less he seemed 
Above the rest still to retain. They all 
Him followed, issuing forth to the open field, 
Where all yet left of that revolted rout, 
Heaven-fallen, in station stood or just array,         535
Sublime with expectation when to see 
In triumph issuing forth their glorious Chief. 
They saw, but other sight instead—a crowd 
Of ugly serpents! Horror on them fell, 
And horrid sympathy; for what they saw         540
They felt themselves now changing. Down their arms, 
Down fell both spear and shield; down they as fast, 
And the dire hiss renewed, and the dire form 
Catched by contagion, like in punishment 
As in their crime. Thus was the applause they meant         545
Turned to exploding hiss, triumph to shame 
Cast on themselves from their own mouths. There stood 
A grove hard by, sprung up with this their change, 
His will who reigns above, to aggravate 
Their penance, laden with fair fruit, like that         550
Which grew in Paradise, the bait of Eve 
Used by the Tempter. On that prospect strange 
Their earnest eyes they fixed, imagining 
For one forbidden tree a multitude 
Now risen, to work them further woe or shame;         555
Yet, parched with scalding thirst and hunger fierce 
Though to delude them sent, could not abstain, 
But on they rowled in heaps, and, up the trees 
Climbing, sat thicker than the snaky locks 
That curled Megæra. Greedily they plucked         560
The fruitage fair to sight, like that which grew 
Near that bituminous lake where Sodom flamed; 
This, more delusive, not the touch, but taste 
Deceived; they fondly thinking to allay 
Their appetite with gust, instead of fruit         565
Chewed bitter ashes, which the offended taste 
With spattering noise rejected. Off they assayed, 
Hunger and thirst constraining; drugged as oft, 
With hatefulest disrelish writhed their jaws 
With soot and cinder filled; so oft they fell         570
Into the same illusion, not as Man 
Whom they triumphed’ once lapsed. Thus were they plagued, 
And, worn with famine, long and ceaseless hiss, 
Till their lost shape, permitted, they resumed— 
Yearly enjoined, some say, to undergo         575
This annual humbling certain numbered days, 
To dash their pride, and joy for Man seduced. 
However, some tradition they dispersed 
Among the Heathen of their purchase got, 
And fabled how the Serpent, whom they called         580
Ophion, with Eurynome (the wide— 
Encroaching Eve perhaps), had first the rule 
Of high Olympus, thence by Saturn driven 
And Ops, ere yet Dictæan Jove was born. 
  Meanwhile in Paradise the Hellish pair         585
Too soon arrived—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 think’st thou of our empire now? though earned 
With travail difficult, not better far 
Than still at Hell’s dark threshold to have sat watch, 
Unnamed, undreaded, and thyself half-starved?”         595
  Whom thus the Sin-born Monster answered soon:— 
“To me, who with eternal famine 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 corpse.” 
  To whom the incestuous Mother thus replied:— 
“Thou, therefore, on these herbs, and fruits, and flowers, 
Feed first; on each beast next, and fish, and fowl— 
No homely morsels; and whatever thing         605
The scythe of Time mows down devour unspared; 
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 ways,         610
Both to destroy, or unimmortal make 
All kinds, and for destruction to mature 
Sooner or later; which the Almighty seeing, 
From his transcendent Seat the Saints among, 
To those bright Orders uttered thus his voice:—         615
  “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 wasteful furies, who impute         620
Folly to me (so doth the Prince of Hell 
And his adherents), that with so much ease 
I suffer them to enter and possess 
A place so heavenly, and, conniving, seem 
To gratify my scornful enemies,         625
That laugh, as if, transported with some fit 
Of passion, I to them had quitted all, 
At random yielded up to their misrule; 
And know not that I called and drew them thither, 
My Hell-hounds, to lick up the draft and filth         630
Which Man’s polluting sin with taint hath shed 
On what was pure; till, crammed and gorged, nigh burst 
With sucked and glutted offal, at one sling 
Of thy victorious arm, well-pleasing Son, 
Both Sin and Death, and yawning Grave, at last         635
Through Chaos hurled, obstruct the mouth of Hell 
For ever, and seal up his ravenous jaws. 
Then Heaven and Earth, renewed, shall be made pure 
To sanctity that shall receive no stain: 
Till then the curse pronounced on both precedes.”         640
  He ended, and the Heavenly Audience loud 
Sung Halleluiah, 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,         645
Destined restorer of Mankind, by whom 
New Heaven and Earth shall to the ages rise, 
Or down from Heaven descend.” Such was their song, 
While the Creator, calling forth by name 
His mighty 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 tolerable, and from the north to call 
Decrepit winter, from the south to bring         655
Solstitial summer’s heat. To the blanc Moon 
Her office they prescribed; to the other five 
Their planetary motions and aspects, 
In sextile, square, and trine, and opposite, 
Of noxious efficacy, and when to join         660
In synod unbenign; and taught the fixed 
Their influence malignant when to shower— 
Which of them, rising with the Sun or falling, 
Should prove tempestuous. To the winds they set 
Their corners, when with bluster to confound         665
Sea, air, and shore; the thunder when to roll 
With terror through the dark aerial hall. 
Some say he bid his Angels turn askance 
The poles of Earth twice ten degrees and more 
From the Sun’s axle; they with labour pushed         670
Oblique the centric Globe: some say the Sun 
Was bid turn reins from the equinoctial road 
Like distant breadth—to Taurus with the seven 
Atlantic Sisters, and the Spartan Twins, 
Up to the Tropic Crab; thence down amain         675
By Leo, and the Virgin, and the Scales, 
As deep as Capricorn; to bring in change 
Of seasons to each clime. Else had the spring 
Perpetual smiles on Earth with vernant flowers, 
Equal in days and nights, except to those         680
Beyond the polar circles; to them day 
Had unbenighted shon, while the low Sun, 
To recompense his distance, in their sight 
Had rounded still the horizon, and not known 
Or east or west—which had forbid the snow         685
From cold Estotiland, and south as far 
Beneath Magellan. At that tasted Fruit, 
The Sun, as from Thyestean banquet, turned 
His course intended; else how had the world 
Inhabited, though sinless, more than now         690
Avoided pinching cold and scorching heat? 
These changes in the heavens, though slow, produced 
Like change on sea and land—sidereal blast, 
Vapour, and mist, and exhalation hot, 
Corrupt and pestilent. Now from the north         695
Of Norumbega, and the Samoed shore, 
Bursting their brazen dungeon, armed with ice, 
And snow, and hail, and stormy gust and flaw, 
Boreas and Cæcias and Argestes loud 
And Thrascias rend the woods, and seas upturn;         700
With adverse blasts upturns 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 winds, 
Eurus and Zephyr, with their lateral noise,         705
Sirocco and Libecchio. Thus began 
Outrage from lifeless things; but Discord first, 
Daughter of Sin, among the irrational 
Death introduced through fierce antipathy. 
Beast now with beast ’gan war, and fowl with fowl,         710
And fish with fish. To graze the herb all leaving 
Devoured each other; nor stood much in awe 
Of Man, but fled him, or with countenance grim 
Glared on him passing. These were from without 
The growing miseries; which Adam saw         715
Already in part, though hid in gloomiest shade, 
To sorrow abandoned, but worse felt within, 
And, in a troubled sea of passion tost, 
Thus to disburden sought with sad complaint:— 
  “O miserable of happy! Is this the end         720
Of this new glorious World, and me so late 
The glory of that glory? who now, become 
Accursed of blessèd, hide me from the face 
Of God, whom to behold was then my highth 
Of happiness! Yet well, if here would end         725
The misery! I deserved it, and would bear 
My own deservings. But this will not serve: 
All that I eat or drink, or shall beget, 
Is propagated curse. O voice, once heard 
Delightfully, ’Encrease and multiply,’         730
Now death to hear! for what can I encrease 
Or multiply 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!         735
For this we may thank Adam!’ but his thanks 
Shall be the execration. So, besides 
Mine own that bide upon me, all from me 
Shall with a fierce reflux on me redound— 
On me, as on their natural centre, light;         740
Heavy, though in their place. O fleeting joys 
Of Paradise, dear bought with lasting woes! 
Did I request thee, Maker, from my clay 
To mould me Man? Did I solicit thee 
From darkness to promote me, or here place         745
In this delicious Garden? As my will 
Concurred not to my being, it were but right 
And equal to reduce me to my dust, 
Desirous to resign and render back 
All I received, unable to perform         750
Thy term too hard, by which I was to hold 
The good I sought not. To the loss of that, 
Sufficient penalty, why hast thou added 
The sense of endless woes? Inexplicable 
Thy justice seems. Yet, to say truth, too late         755
I thus contest; then should have been refused 
Those terms, whatever, when they were proposed. 
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, reproved, 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.         765
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 return.         770
O welcome hour whenever! Why delays 
His hand to execute what his decree 
Fixed on this day? Why do I overlive? 
Why am I mocked with death, and lengthened out 
To deathless pain? How gladly would I meet         775
Mortality, my sentence, and be earth 
Insensible! how glad would lay me down 
As in my mother’s lap! There I should rest, 
And sleep secure; his dreadful voice no more 
Would thunder in my ears; no fear of worse         780
To me and to my offspring would torment me 
With cruel expectation. Yet one doubt 
Pursues me still—lest all I cannot die; 
Lest that pure breath of life, the Spirit of Man 
Which God inspired, cannot together perish         785
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 sinned: what dies but what had life         790
And sin? The body properly hath neither. 
All of me, then, shall die: let this appease 
The doubt, since human reach no further knows. 
For, though the Lord of all be infinite, 
Is his wrauth also? Be it, Man is not so,         795
But mortal doomed. But can he exercise 
Wrauth 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 anger’s sake, finite to infinite 
In punished Man, to satisfy his rigour 
Satisfied never? That were to extend 
His sentence beyond dust and Nature’s law;         805
By which all causes else according still 
To the reception of their matter act, 
Not to the extent of their own sphere. But say 
That death be not one stroke, as I supposed, 
Bereaving sense, but endless misery         810
From this day onward, which I feel begun 
Both in me and without me, and so last 
To perpetuity——Ay me! that fear 
Comes thundering back with dreadful revolution 
On my defenceless head! Both Death and I         815
Am found eternal, and incorporate both: 
Nor I on my part single; in me all 
Posterity stands cursed. Fair patrimony 
That I must leave ye, sons! Oh, were I able 
To waste it all myself, and leave ye none!         820
So disinherited, how would ye bless 
Me, now your curse! Ah, why should all Mankind, 
For one man’s fault, thus guiltless be condemned? 
If guiltless! But from me what can proceed 
But all corrupt—both mind and will depraved         825
Not to do only, but to will the same 
With me? How can they, then, acquitted stand 
In sight of God? Him, after all disputes, 
Forced I absolve. All my evasions vain 
And reasonings, though through mazes, lead me still         830
But to my own conviction: first and last 
On me, me only, as the source and spring 
Of all corruption, all the blame lights due. 
So might the wrauth! Fond wish! could’st thou support 
That burden, heavier than the Earth to bear—         835
Than all the world much heavier, though divided 
With that bad Woman? Thus, what thou desir’st, 
And what thou fear’st, alike destroys all hope 
Of refuge, and concludes thee miserable 
Beyond all past example and future’—         840
To Satan only like, both crime and doom. 
O Conscience! into what abyss of fears 
And horrors hast thou driven me; out of which 
I find no way, from deeper to deeper plunged!” 
  Thus Adam to himself lamented loud         845
Through the still night—not now, as ere Man fell, 
Wholesome 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
Outstretched he lay, on the cold ground, and oft 
Cursed his creation; Death as oft accused 
Of tardy execution, since denounced 
The day of his offence. “Why comes not Death,” 
Said he, “with one thrice-acceptáble stroke         855
To end me? Shall Truth fail to keep her word, 
Justice divine not hasten 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 bowers!         860
With other echo late I taught your shades 
To answer, and resound far other song.” 
Whom thus afflicted when sad Eve beheld, 
Desolate where she sat, approaching nigh, 
Soft words to his fierce passion she assayed;         865
But her, with stern regard, he thus repelled:— 
  “Out of my sight, thou Serpent! That name best 
Befits thee, with him leagued, thyself 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, lest that too heavenly form, pretended 
To hellish falsehood, snare them. But for thee 
I had persisted happy, had not thy pride 
And wandering vanity, when least was safe,         875
Rejected my forewarning, and disdained 
Not to be trusted—longing to be seen, 
Though by the Devil himself; him overweening 
To overreach; but, with the Serpent meeting, 
Fooled and beguiled; by him thou, I by thee,         880
To trust thee from my side, imagined wise, 
Constant, mature, proof against all assaults, 
And understood not all was but a shew, 
Rather than solid virtue, all but a rib 
Crooked by nature—bent, as now appears,         885
More to the part sinister—from me drawn; 
Well if thrown out, as supernumerary 
To my just number found! O, why did God 
Creator wise, that peopled highest Heaven 
With Spirits masculine, create at last         890
This novelty on Earth, this fair defect 
Of Nature, and not fill the World at once 
With men as Angels, without fiminine; 
Or find some other way to generate 
Mankind? This mischief had not then befallen,         895
And more that shall befall—innumerable 
Disturbances on Earth through female snares, 
And strait 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 gained 
By a far worse, or, if she love, withheld 
By parents; or his happiest choice too late 
Shall meet, already linked and wedlock—bound         905
To a fell adversary, his hate or shame: 
Which infinite calamity shall cause 
To human life, and household peace confound.” 
  He added not, and from her turned; but Eve, 
Not so repulsed, with tears that ceased not flowing,         910
And tresses all disordered, at his feet 
Fell humble, and, imbracing them, besought 
His peace, and thus proceeded in her plaint:— 
  “Forsake me not thus, Adam! witness Heaven 
What love sincere and reverence in my heart         915
I bear thee, and unweeting have offended, 
Unhappily deceived! Thy suppliant 
I beg, and clasp thy knees; bereave me not 
Whereon I live, they gentle looks, thy aid, 
Thy counsel in this uttermost distress,         920
My only strength and stay. Forlorn of thee, 
Whither shall I betake me, where subsist? 
While yet we live, scarce one short hour perhaps, 
Between us two let there be peace; both joining, 
As joined in injuries, one enmity         925
Against a Foe by doom express assigned us. 
That cruel Serpent. On me exercise not 
Thy hatred for this misery befallen— 
On me already lost, me than thyself 
More miserable. Both have sinned; but thou         930
Against God only; I against God and thee, 
And to the place of judgment will return, 
There with my cries impor’tune Heaven, that all 
The sentence, from thy head removed, may light 
On me, sole cause to thee of all this woe,         935
Me, me only, just object of His ire.” 
  She ended, weeping; and her lowly plight, 
Immovable till peace obtained from fault 
Acknowledged and deplored, 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 fair his reconcilement seeking, 
His counsel whom she had displeased, his aid. 
As one disarmed, his anger all he lost,         945
And thus with peaceful words upraised her soon:— 
“Unwary, and too desirous, as before 
So now, of what thou know’st not, who desir’st 
The punishment all on thyself! Alas! 
Bear thine own first, ill able to sustain         950
His full wrauth whose thou feel’st as yet least part, 
And my displeasure bear’st 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,         955
Thy frailty and infirmer sex forgiven, 
To me committed, and by me exposed. 
But rise; let us no more contend, nor blame 
Each other, blamed enough elsewhere, but strive 
In offices of love how we may lighten         960
Each other’s burden in our share of woe; 
Since this day’s death denounced, if aught I see, 
Will prove no sudden, but a slow—paced evil, 
A long day’s dying, to augment our pain, 
And to our seed (O hapless seed!) derived.”         965
  To whom thus Eve, recovering heart, replied:— 
“Adam, by sad experiment I know 
How little weight my words with thee can find, 
Found so erroneous, thence by just event 
Found so unfortunate. Nevertheless,         970
Restored by thee, vile as I am, to place 
Of new acceptance, hopeful to regain 
Thy love, the sole contentment of my heart, 
Living or dying from thee I will not hide 
What thoughts in my unquiet breast are risen,         975
Tending to some 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, devoured         980
By Death at last (and miserable it is 
To be to others cause of misery, 
Our own begotten, and of our loins to bring 
Into this cursed world a woeful race, 
That, after wretched life, must be at last         985
Food for so foul a Monster), in thy power 
It lies, yet ere conception, to prevent 
The race unblest, to being yet unbegot. 
Childless thou art; childless remain. So Death 
Shall be deceived his glut, and with us two         990
Be forced to satisfy his ravenous maw. 
But, if thou judge it hard and difficult, 
Conversing, looking, loving, to abstain 
From love’s due rites, nuptial imbraces sweet, 
And with desire to languish without hope         995
Before the present object languishing 
With like desire—which would be misery 
And torment less than 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, he not found, supply 
With our own hands his office on ourselves. 
Why stand we longer shivering under fears 
That shew no end but death, and have the power, 
Of many ways to die the shortest choosing,         1005
Destruction with destruction to destroy?” 
  She ended here, or vehement despair 
Broke off the rest; so much of death her thoughts 
Had entertained as dyed her cheeks with pale. 
But Adam, with such counsel nothing swayed,         1010
To better hopes his more attentive mind 
Labouring had raised, and thus to Eve replied:— 
  “Eve, thy contempt of life and pleasure seems 
To argue in thee something more sublime 
And excellent than what thy mind contemns:         1015
But self-destruction therefore sought refutes 
That excellence thought in thee, and implies 
Not thy contempt, but anguish and regret 
For loss of life and pleasure overloved. 
Or, if thou covet death, as utmost end         1020
Of misery, so thinking to evade 
The penalty pronounced, doubt not but God 
Hath wiselier armed his vengeful ire than so 
To be forestalled. Much more I fear lest death 
So snatched will not exempt us from the pain         1025
We are by doom to pay; rather such acts 
Of contumacy will provoke the Highest 
To make death in us live. Then let us seek 
Some safer resolution—which methinks 
I have in view, calling to mind with heed         1030
Part of our sentence, that thy seed shall bruise 
The Serpent’s head. Piteous amends! unless 
Be meant whom I conjecture, our grand foe, 
Satan, who in the Serpent hath contrived 
Against us this deceit. To crush his head         1035
Would be revenge indeed—which will be lost 
By death brought on ourselves, or childless days 
Resolved as thou proposest; so our foe 
Shall scape his punishment ordained, and we 
Instead shall double ours upon our heads.         1040
No more be mentioned, then, of violence 
Against ourselves, and wilful barrenness 
That cuts us off from hope,