When Satan who late fled before the threats
Of Gabriel out of Eden, now improv'd
In meditated fraud and malice, bent
On Man's destruction, maugre what might hap
Of heavier on himself, fearless return'd.
By night he fled, and at midnight return'd
From compassing the earth, cautious of day,
Since Uriel regent of the fun descry'd
His entrance, and forewarn'd the Cherubim
That kept their watch; thence full of anguish driven,
The space of sev'n continued nights he rode
With darkness, thrice the equinoctial line
He circled, four times cross'd the car of night
From pole to pole, traversing each colúre;
On th' eighth return'd, and on the coaft averse
From entrance or Cherubic watch, by stealth
Found unsuspected way. There was a place,
Now not, though fin, not time, first wrought the change,
Where Tigris at the foot of Paradife
Into a gulf shot under ground, till part
Rose up a fountain by the tree of life;
In with the river funk, and with it rose
Satan involv'd in rising mist, then fought
Where to lie hid; sea he had fearch'd and land
From Eden over Pontus, and the pool
Mæotis, up beyond the river Ob;
Downward as far antarctic; and in length
West from Orontes to the ocean barr'd
At Darien, thence to the land where flows
Ganges and Indus: thus the orb he roam'd
With narrow fearch, and with inspection deep
Confider'd every creature, which of all
Most opportune might serve his wiles, and found 85 The Serpent fubtlest beast of all the field.
Him after long debate, irresolute
Of thoughts revolv'd, his final sentence chose
Fit vessel, fittest imp of fraud, in whom
To enter, and his dark suggestions hide
From sharpest fight: for in the wily snake,
Whatever fleights none would fufpicious mark,
As from his wit and native fubtlety
Proceeding, which in other beasts observ'd
Doubt might beget of diabolic power
Active within beyond the sense of brute.
Thus he refolv'd, but first from inward grief
His bursting passion into plaints thus pour'd.
O Earth, how like to Heav'n, if not preferr'd
More justly, feat worthier of Gods, as built
With second thoughts, reforming what was old!
For what God after better worse would build?
Terrestrial Heav'n, danc'd round by other Heavens
That shine, yet bear their bright officious lamps,
Light above light, for thee alone, as seems,
In thee concentring all their precious beams
Of facred influence! As God in Heaven
Is center, 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 fumm'd up in Man.
With what delight could I have walk'd thee round,
If I could joy in ought, sweet interchange
Of hill, and valley, rivers, woods, and plains,
Now land, now fea, and shores with forest crown'd,
Rocks, dens, and caves! but I in none of these
Find place or refuge; and the more I fee
Pleasures about me, so much more I feel
Torment within me', as from the hateful siege
Of contraries; all good to me becomes
Bane, and in Heav'n much worse would be my state.
But neither here seek I, no nor in Heaven
To dwell, unless by mast'ring Heav'n's Supreme; 125
Nor hope to be myself less miferable
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 destroy'd,
Or won to what may work his utter loss,
For whom all this was made, all this will soon
Follow, as to him link'd in weal or woe;
In woe then; that destruction wide may range:
To me shall be the glory sole among
Th' infernal Pow'rs, in one day to have marr'd
What he Almighty stil'd, fix 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
From fervitude inglorious well nigh half
Th' angelic name, and thinner left the throng
Of his adorers: he to be aveng'd,
And to repair his numbers thus impair'd,
Whether fuch virtue spent of old now fail'd
More Angels to create, if they at least
Are his created, or to spite us more,
Determin'd to advance into our room
A creature form'd of earth, and him endow,
Exalted from so base original,
With heav'nly spoils, our spoils: What he decreed
He' effected; Man he made, and for him built
Magnificent this world, and earth his feat,
Him lord pronounc'd, and, O indignity!
Subjected to his service Angel wings,
And flaming minifters to watch and tend
Their earthly charge: Of these the vigilance
I dread, and to elude, thus wrapt in mist
Of midnight vapor glide obscure, and pry
In every bush and brake, where hap may find
The ferpent sleeping, in whose mazy folds
To hide me, and the dark intent I bring.
O foul defcent! that I who erst contended
With Gods to fit the high'est, am now constrain'd
Into a beast, and mix'd with bestial slime,
This effence to incarnate and imbrute,
That to the highth of Deity aspir'd;
But what will not ambition and revenge
Descend to? who aspires must down as low
As high he foar'd, obnoxious first or last
To basest things. Revenge, at first though sweet,
Bitter ere long back on itself recoils,
Let it; I reck not, so it light well aim'd,
Since higher I fall short, on him who next
Provokes my envy, this new favorite
Of Heav'n, this man of clay, son of despite,
Whom us the more to spite his Maker rais'd
From dust: spite then with spite is best repaid.
So saying, through each thicket dank or dry,
Like a black mist low creeping, he held on
His midnight search, where soonest he might find
The ferpent: him fast sleeping foon he found
In labyrinth of many a round self-roll'd,
His head the midst, well stor'd with subtle wiles :
Not yet in horrid shade or dismal den,
Nor nocent yet, but on the graffy herb
Fearless unfear'd he slept: in at his mouth
The Devil enter'd, and his brutal sense,
In heart or head, possessing soon inspir'd
With act intelligential; but his fleep
Disturb'd not, waiting close th' approach of morn.
Now when as facred light began to dawn
In Eden on the humid flow'rs, that breath'd
Their morning incense, when all things that breathe,
From th' earth's great altar send up filent praise 195
To the Creator, and his nostrils fill
With grateful fmell, forth came the human pair,
And join'd their vocal worship to the quire
Of creatures wanting voice; that done, partake
The season, prime for sweetest scents and airs :
Then commune how that day they best may ply
Their growing work: for much their work outgrew
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