Milton.

Milton.

S. B. II. S. 83. Sein verlornes Paradies (Paradife Loft) in zwölf Büchern behauptet noch immer, nicht nur unter den Epopden der Engländer, sondern überhaupt unter allen neuern Heldengedichten, den vorzüglichsten Rang. Milton besaß ein ungemein großes, reiches, und wahrhaftig dichtrisches Genie, und eine sehr viel befaffende Einbildungskraft, die selbst durch den Verlust seines Ges fichts, der ihn um sein vierzigstes Lebensjahr traf, erhöht, verstärkt und bereichert wurde; und eben so wenig konnten Armuth, politische Gefahr, Ungnade, Einsamkeit und Ab ter feinen hohen Geißt danieder beugen. Ein italiånisches Trauerspiel des Andreini, L' Adamo, veranlasste ihn zuerß zur Wahl jenes Stofs. (Man sehe einen Auszug daraus in Warton's Effay on Pope, Vol. II. p. 414. ft.) Im Jahr 1667 erschien dieß Heldengedicht zuerst, in zehn Büchern, und 1674 in zwdlf Büchern. Anfänglich erregte es wenig Aufmerksamkeit, bis zuerst Dryden und nachher Addison im Spectator, die großen Schönheiten dieses Werks leb haft einsahen, und die Bewunderung zuerß rege machten, welche ihm hernach sowohl seine Nation, als die Ausländer schenkten, die es mehrmal mit sehr verschiedenem Glück, überseßten. Pearce, Bentley, Liewton und Richards son find die berühmtcßten Kommentatoren über das Vers Lorne Paradies; auch ist hier der Vertheidigung desselben gegen so manche einseitige und mißverstandne Kritiken zu gedenken, welche Bodmer zum Hauptinhalte seiner Krit Abh. vom Wunderbaren machte, die zu Zürich, 1740. 8. herauskam. Weniger Rühm und inneres Verdienst hat eben dieses Dichters Wiedererlangtes Paradies (Paradife Regained) in vier Büchern, dessen vornehmster Inhalt der Sieg des Erlösers, über den Versucher in der Wüste ist. — hayley schliefft (Ep. III. v. 431.) seine glückliche Charakte rifirung Milton's mit den beiden schönen Versen:

Round the bleft Bard his raptur'd audience throng,
And feel their fouls imparadis'd in song.

Als eine kleine Probe des herrlichen Ganzen gebe ich hier
bloß den Anfang des fünften Buchs, welcher den aubre:

chenden

chenden Morgen schildert, an welchem Eva dem Adam den Traum erzählt, der sie beunruhigte, und worüber er sie zu beruhigen sucht. Sie gehen an ihr Tagewerk, und richten an Gott ihren Morgengesang.

PARADISE LOST, B. V. v. 1—219.

Milton.

Now morn, her rofy steps in th'eaftern clime

Advancing, fow'd the earth with orient pearl,
When Adam wak'd, fo cuftom'd; for his fleep
Was airylight from pure digeftion bred,
And temp'rate vapours bland, which th'only found
Of leave and fuming rills, Aurora's fan,
Lightly difpers d, and the fhrill matin song
Of birds on every bough; So much the more
His wonder was to find unwaken'd Eve
With treffes discompos'd, and glowing cheek,
As through unquiet reft: he, on his fide
Leaning half-rais'd, with looks of cordial love
Hung over her enamour'd, and beheld
Beauty, which, whether waking or asleep,
Shot forth peculiar graces; then with voice
Mild, as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes,
Her hand foft touching, whisper'd thus: Awake,
My faireft, my efpous'd, my latest found,
Heav'ns laft beft gift, my ever- new delight,
Awake! the morning fhines, and the fresh field
Calls us; we lofe the prime, to mark how fpring
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 fweet.
Such whisp'ring wak'd her, but with ftartled eye
On Adam, whom embracing, thus fhe spake:
O fole in whom my thoughts find all repose,
My glory, my perfection, glad I fee

Thy face, and morn return'd; for I this night
(Such night till this I never pafs'd) have dream'd

น 3

I

Milton. If dream'd, not, as I oft am wont, of thee,
Works of day paft, or morrow's next defign;,
But of offence and trouble, which my mind.
Knew never till this irkfome night; methought
Clofe at mine ear one call'd me forth to walk
With gentle voice; I thought it thine; it faid:
Why fleep'ft thou, Eve? now is the pleasant time,
The cool, the filent, fave where filence yields
To the night-warbling bird, that now awake
Tunes fweeteft his love-labour'd fong; now reigns
Full orb'd the moon, and with more pleafing light
Shadowy fets off the face of things; in vain
If none regard; heav'n wakes with all his eyes;
Whom to behold but thee, Nature's defire?
In whofe fight all things joy, with ravishment
Attracted by thy beauty ftill to gaze:

I rofe as at thy call, but found thee not;
To find thee I directed then my walk;
And on, methought, alone I pafs'd through ways
That brought me on a fudden to the tree
Of interdicted knowledge: fair it feem'd,
Much fairer to my fancy than by day:
And as I wondring look'd, befide it stood
One fhap'd and wing'd like one of thofe from
heav'n

By us oft feen; his dewy locks diftill'd
Ambrofia; on that tree he alfo gaz'd;
And, o fair plant, faid he, with fruit furcharg'd
Deigns none to ease thy load, and tafte thy fweet,
Nor God, nor Man? Is knowledge fo defpis'd?
Or envy, or what referve forbids to tafte?
Forbid who will, none fhall from me withhold
Longer thy offer'd good; why elfe fet here?
This faid, he paus'd not, but with vent'rous arm
He pluck'd, he tafted: me damp horror chill'd
At fuch bold words vouch'd with a deed fo bold.
But he thus overjoy'd, o fruit divine,

Sweet of thy felf, but much more fweet thus
cropt.

Forbidden here, it feems, as only fit

For god, yet able to make gods of men ;

And

And why not gods of men, fince good, the more
Communicated, more abundant grows,
The author not impair'd, but honour'd move?
Here, happy creature, fair angelic Eve,
Partake thou alfo; happy though thou art,
Happier thou may be, worthier canft not be:
Tatte this, and be henceforth among the gods,
Thyfelf a goddefs, not to earth confin'd

But fometimes in the air, as we; fometimes
Afcend to heav'n, by merit thine, and fee,
What life the gods live there, and fuch live thou;
So faying, he drew nigh, and to me held
Ev'n to my mouth, of that fame fruit held part
Which he had pluck'd; the pleafant favoury fmell
So quicken'd appetite, that I, methought,
Could not but tafte. Forth with up to the clouds
With him I flew, and underneath beheld
The earth outstretch'd immenfe, a profpect wide
And various: wondring at my flight and change
To this high exaltation; fuddenly

My guide was gone, and I, methought, funk down,
And fell asleep: but o how glad I wak'd,
To find this but a dream! Thus Eve her night
Related, and thus Adam anfwer'd fad.

Beft image of myself, and dearer half,
The trouble of thy thoughts this night in fleep
Affects me equally; nor can I like

This uncouth dream, of evil fprung, I fear:
Yet evil whence? in thee can harbour none,
Created pure. But know, that in the foul
Are many leffer faculties, that ferve
Reafon as chief: among thefe Fancy next
Her office holds; of all external things,
Which the five watchful fenfes reprefent,
She forms imaginations, airy fhapes,
Which realon 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 abfence mimic fancy wakes,
To initate her; but misjoining fhapes,

114

Wild

Milton.

Milton.

Wild work produces oft, and most in dreams
Ill matching words and deeds long paft or late.
Some fuch refemblances, methinks,

find

Of our last evenig's talk, in this thy dream,
But with addition ftrange: yet be not fad,
Evil into the mind of God or man

May come and go, fo unapprov'd, and leave
1 No fpot or blame behind: which gives me hope
That what in fleep thou didst abhor to dream
Waking thou never wilt confent to do.

Be not dishearten'd then, nor cloud thofe looks
That wont to be more chearful and ferene,
Than when fair morning firft fmiles on the World
And let us to our fresh employments rife

Among the groves, the fountains, and the flowers
That open now their choiceft bofom'd fmells
Referv'd from night, and kept for thee in ftore.
So chear'd he his fair fpoufe, and fhe was chear'd,
But filently a gentle tear let fall

From either eye, and wip'd them with her hair;
Two other precious drops that ready stood,
Each in their cryftal fluice, he ere they fell
Kifs'd, as the gracious figns of fweet remorfe
And pious awe, that fear'd to have offended.
So all was clear'd, and to field they haft
But first, from under fhady arbo'rous roof
Soon as they forth were come to open fight
Of day fpring, and the fun, who fcarce uprifen
With wheels yet hov'ring o'er the ocean - brim
Shot parallel to the earth his dewy ray.
Discovering in wide landscape all the east
Of Paradife and Eden's happy plains
Lowly they bow'd adoring and began
Their orifons, each morning duly paid
In various style; for neither various style
Nor holy rapture wanted they to praise
Their Maker, in fit ftrains pronounc'd,
Unmeditated, fuch promt eloquence
Flow'd from their lips, in profe or numerous verse,
More tuneable than needed lut or harp

or fung

To add more fweetness; and they thus began:

Thefe