Above the Aönian mount, while it pursues And adest it pregnant: What in me is dark, And justify the ways of God to men. 15 20 25 330 Say first, for Heaven hides nothing from thy view, Nor the deep tract of Hell; say first, what cause Moved our grand Parents, in that happy state, Favour'd of Heaven so highly, to fall off From their Creator, and transgress his will For one restraint, lords of the world besides? Who first seduced them to that foul revolt? The infernal Serpent; he it was, whose guile, Stirr'd up with envy and revenge, deceived The mother of mankind, what time his pride 35 Had cast him out from Heaven, with all his host Of rebel Angels; by whose aid, aspiring To set himself in glory above his peers, He trusted to have equal'd the Most High, 40 If he opposed; and, with ambitious aim 45 To bottomless perdition; there to dwell In adamantine chains and penal fire, Who durst defy the Omnipotent to arms. Nine t'mes the space that measures day and night 50 To mortal men, he with his horrid crew Lay vanquish'd, rolling in the fiery gulf, Confounded, though immortal: But his doom Reserved him to more wrath; for now the thought Both of lost happiness, and lasting pain, 55 Torments him: round he throws his baleful eyes, Mix'd with obdurate pride and steadfast hate At once, as far as Angels ken, he views 60 A dungeon horrible on all sides round As one great furnace flamed; yet from those flames Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace 65 That comes to all; but torture without end With ever burning sulphur unconsumed For those rebellious; here their prison ordain'd Beelzebub. To whom the Archenemy, 70 75 80 And thence in Heaven call'd Satan, with bold words Breaking the horrid silence, thus began. If thou be he; but O, how fallen! how changed From him, who, in the happy realms of light, Clothed with transcendent brightness, didst outshine Myriads though bright! If he whom mutual league, United thoughts and counsels, equal hope And hazard in the glorious enterprise, Join'd with me once, now misery hath join'd 85 In equal ruin! Into what pit thou seest, From what height fallen; so much the stronger proved He with his thunder and till then who knew The force of those dire arms? Yet not for those, Though changed in outward lustre, that fix'd mind, 95 100 That durst dislike his reign, and, me preferring, His utmost power with adverse power opposed In dubious battle on the plains of Heaven, And shook his throne. What though the field be lost? All is not lost; the unconquerable will, 106 And study of revenge, immortal hate, 110 Doubted his empire; that were low indeed, That were an ignominy, and shame beneath 115 This downfal: since, by fate, the strength of Gods And this empyreal substance cannot fail; Since through experience of this great event In arms not worse, in foresight much advanced, 120 We may with more successful none resolve So spake the apostate Angel, though in pain, O Prince, O Chief of many throned Powers, 125 That led the embattled Seraphim to war 130 Fearless endanger'd Heaven's perpetual king, And put to proof his high supremacy, Whether upheld by strength, or chance, or fate; Too well I see and rue the dire event, That with sad overthrow, and foul defeat, 135 Hath lost us Heaven, and all this mighty host In horrible destruction laid thus low, As far as Gods and heavenly essences Can perish for the mind and spirit remains 140 Though all our glory extinct, and happy state But what if he our Conqueror (whom I now Of force believe Almighty, since no less Than such could have o'erpower'd such force as ours) Have left us this our spirit and strength entire 146 Strongly to suffer and support our pains, That we may so suffice his vengeful ire, 150 What can it then avail, though yet we feel Strength undiminish'd, or eternal being, To undergo eternal punishment? 155 Whereto with speedy words the Archfiend replied. Doing or suffering: but of this be sure, To do aught good never will be our task, But ever to do ill our sole delight, 160 As being the contrary to his high will Whom we resist. If then his providence 165 Shull grieve him, if I fail not, and disturb His inmost counsels from their destined aim. His ministers of vengeance and pursuit 170 Back to the gates of Heaven: the sulphurous hail, 175 Seest thou yon dreary plain, forlorn and wild, 180 Save what the glimmering of these livid flames 185 Consult how we may henceforth most offend What reinforcement we may gain from hope; 190 If not, what resolution from despair. Thus Satan talking to his nearest mate 195 201 |