HIGH on a throne of royal state-which far
Outshone the wealth of Ormus and of Ind,
Or where the gorgeous East with richest hand
Showers on her kings barbaric pearl and gold 1—
Satan exalted sat (by merit raised

To that bad eminence); and from despair,
Thus high uplifted beyond hope, aspires
Beyond thus high, insatiate to pursue

Vain war with Heaven! And by success 2 untaught,
His proud imaginations thus displayed:

"Powers and Dominions, Deities of Heaven! For, since no deep within her gulf can hold [retain] Immortal vigour, though oppressed and fallen,

From this descent

I give not Heaven for lost!
Celestial Virtues rising will appear

More glorious and more dread than from no fall 3–
And trust themselves to fear no second fate!

Me though just right and the fixed laws of Heaven

Did first create your leader, next [your] free choice,
With what besides, in counsel or in fight,

Hath been achieved [by me] of merit, yet this loss
Thus far at least recovered hath much more
Established in a safe unenvied throne,

Yielded with full consent. The happier state
In Heaven which follows dignity might draw
Envy from each inferior; but who here

Will envy whom the highest place exposes

1 These productions were brought from foreign parts-imported; "barbaric" is here used in this sense, simply as foreign, not as savage and barbarous as some annotators remark.

2 From successus, the issue of events-therefore the meaning is, untaught by experience. See Book vi, line 161.

3 See lines 257-262.

PARADISE LOST-BK. II.]

25

Foremost to stand against the Thunderer's aim
Your bulwark, and condemns to greatest share
Of endless pain? Where there is, then, no good
For which to strive, no strife can grow up there
From faction: for none, sure, will claim in Hell
Precedence-none whose portion is so small
Of present pain that with ambitious mind
Will covet more! With this advantage, then,
To union and firm faith, and firm accord—
More than can be in Heaven-we now return
To claim our just inheritance of old,
Surer to prosper than prosperity

Could have assured us; and by what best way,
Whether of open war or covert guile,

We now debate: who can advise may speak."

He ceased; and next him Moloch, sceptred king,

Stood up, the strongest and the fiercest Spirit
That fought in Heaven, now fiercer by despair.
His trust was, with the Eternal to be deemed
Equal in strength, and rather than be less
Cared not to be at all-with that care lost
Went all his fear of God or Hell, or worse
He recked not! And these words thereafter spake :

"My sentence [vote] is for open war of wiles
More unexpert, I boast not-them let those
Contrive who need, or when they need, not now.
For while they sit contriving, shall the rest-
Millions that stand in arms and longing wait
The signal to ascend-sit lingering here,
Heaven's fugitives, and for their dwelling-place
Accept this dark opprobrious den of shame,
The prison of his tyranny who reigns

By our delay? No! let us rather choose,
Armed with Hell-flames and fury, all at once

O'er Heaven's high towers to force resistless way,
Turning our tortures into horrid arms

Against the torturer! when, to meet the noise
Of his almighty engine, he shall hear
Infernal thunder, and for lightning see
Black fire and horror shot with equal rage

30

40

50

60

Continuation of his Harangue.

Among his Angels, and his throne itself

Mixed [filled] with Tartarean sulphur and strange fire, His own invented torments! But, perhaps,

'The way seems difficult and steep to scale

'With upright [upward] wing against a higher foe :' Let such bethink them (if the sleepy drench

Of that forgetful lake benumb not still),

That in our proper motion we ascend
Up to our native seat: descent and fall
To us is adverse. Who but felt of late,
When the fierce foe hung on our broken rear
Insulting, and pursued us through the deep,
With what compulsion and laborious flight
We sunk thus low! The ascent is easy, then.
[But] The event is feared: Should we again provoke

'Our stronger, some worse way his wrath may find
'To our destruction!' If there be in Hell

Fear to be worse destroyed, what can be worse

Than to dwell here, driven out from bliss, condemned

In this abhorred deep to utter woe

Where pain of unextinguishable fire

Must exercise [torment] us, without hope of end,
The vassals of his anger-where the scourge
Inexorable and the torturing fire

Galls us to defiance? More destroyed than thus
We should be quite abolished and expire!

What fear we, then? what doubt we to incense
His utmost ire, which to the height enraged

Will either quite consume us and reduce
To nothing this essential (happier far
Than miserable to have eternal being !),
Or if our substance be indeed divine

And cannot cease to be, we are at worst

70

80

90

100

On this side nothing? And by proof we feel

Our power sufficient to disturb his Heaven,
And with perpetual inroads to alarm,

Though inaccessible, his fatal throne ;

Which, if not victory, is yet revenge!"

He ended, frowning, and his look denounced [pro

Desperate revenge and battle dangerous

PARADISE LOST-BK. II.]

[claimed]

27

To no less than God!

On th' other side up rose

Belial (in act [demeanour] more graceful and humane
A fairer person lost not Heaven; he seemed [[courteous]
For dignity composed and high exploit:

But all was false and hollow, though his tongue
Dropped manna, and could make the worse appear

The better reason to perplex and dash

Maturest counsels, for his thoughts were low-
To vice industrious, but to nobler deeds
Timorous and slothful: yet he pleased the ear),
And with persuasive accent thus began:

"I should be much for open war, O Peers,
As not behind in hate, if what was urged
Main reason to persuade immediate war
Did not dissuade me most, and seem to cast
Ominous conjecture on the whole success-
[If] When he who most excels in fact of arms,1
In what he counsels and in what excels
Mistrustful, grounds his courage on despair
And utter dissolution as the scope

Of all his aim after some dire revenge!

First, what revenge? The towers of Heaven are filled
With armed watch, that render all access
Impregnable oft on the bordering deep
Encamp their legions, or with obscure wing
Scout far and wide into the realm of Night,
Scorning surprise. Or could we break our way
By force, and at our heels all Hell should rise
With blackest insurrection to confound
Heaven's purest light, yet our great Enemy,
All incorruptible, would on his throne
Sit unpolluted, and the ethereal mould [nature],
Incapable of stain, would soon expel
Her mischief and purge off the baser fire,
Victorious. Thus repulsed, our final hope
Is flat despair! We must exasperate

The Almighty Victor to spend all his rage,

1 Fatto d'armi, a passage of arms.

111

120

130

140

the proposed Renewal of Hostilities.

And that must end us, that must be our cure!
To be no more- -(sad cure! for who would lose,
Though full of pain, this intellectual being,
Those thoughts that wander through eternity?)—
To perish rather, swallowed up and lost
In the wide womb of uncreated night,
Devoid of sense and motion !

And who knows,

Let [admitting] this be good, whether our angry Foe
Can give it, or will ever?-how he can
Is doubtful, that he never will is sure.
Will he, so wise, let loose at once his ire
(Belike through impotence or unaware !)
To give his enemies their wish and end
Them in his anger, whom his anger saves
To punish endless?

"Wherefore cease we, then?'
Say they who counsel war. "We are decreed,
'Reserved, and destined to eternal woe.
'Whatever doing, what can we suffer more,
'What can we suffer worse?' Is this, then, worst,
Thus sitting, thus consulting, thus in arms?
What! when we fled amain, pursued, and strook
With Heaven's afflicting thunder, and besought
The deep to shelter us, this Hell then seemed
A refuge from those wounds !—or when we lay
Chained on the burning lake, that sure was worse!
What if the breath that kindled those grim fires,
Awaked, should blow them into sevenfold rage
And plunge us in the flames? or from above
Should intermitted vengeance arm again
His red right-hand to plague us? What if all
Her stores were opened and this firmament
Of Hell should spout her cataracts of fire-
Impendent horrors !-threatening hideous fall
One day upon our heads, while we (perhaps
Designing or exhorting glorious war),
Caught in a fiery tempest, shall be hurled,

Each on his rod transfixed, the sport and prey

Of racking whirlwinds, or for ever sunk
Under yon boiling ocean wrapped in flames,
PARADISE LOST-BK. II.]

}