Hurl'd headlong flaming from th' etherial sky,
With hideous ruin and combuftion, down
To bottomlefs perdition, there to dwell
In adamantine chains and penal fire,
Who durft defy the Omnipotent to arms.
Nine times 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
Referv'd him to more wrath; for now the thought
Both of loft happiness and lafting pain
Torments him. Round he throws his baleful eyes,
That witness'd huge affliction and dismay
Mix'd with obdurate pride and stedfast hate:
At once, as far as angels ken, he views
The difmal fituation wafte and wild;
A dungeon horrible on all fides round
As one great furnace flam'd; yet from those flames No light, but rather darkness vifible
Serv'd only to difcover fights of woe,
Regions of forrow, doleful fhades, where peace
And reft can never dwell, hope never comes
That comes to all; but torture without end
Still urges, and a fiery deluge, fed
With ever-burning fulphur unconfum'd :
Such place eternal juftice had prepar'd
For thofe rebellious, here their pris'n ordain'd
In utter darkness, and their portion fet
As far remov'd from God and light of heav'n,
As from the center thrice to th' utmost pole.
O how unlike the place from whence they fell!
There the companions of his fall, o'erwhelm'd
With floods and whirlwinds of tempeftuous fire,
He foon difcerns; and welt'ring by his fide
One next himfelf in pow'r, and next in crime,
Long after known in Palestine, and nam'd
Beelzebub. To whom th' arch-enemy,
And thence in heav'n call'd Satan, with bold words Breaking the horrid filence thus began.
If thou beeft he; but, O how fall'n! how chang'd From him, who in the happy realms of light
Cloth'd with tranfcendent brightnefs didft outfhine
Miriads though bright! if he whom mutual league,
United thoughts and counfels, equal hope
And hazard in the glorious enterprise,
Join'd with me once, now mifery hath join'd
In equal ruin; into what pit thou feeft
From what height fall'n, fo much the ftronger prov'd
He with his thunder: and till then who knew
The force of those dire arms? Yet not for those,
Nor what the potent Victor in his rage
Can elfe inflict, do I repent or change:
Though chang'd in outward luftre, that fix'd mind,
And high difdain from fenfe of injur'd merit,
That with the Mightieft rais'd me to contend;
And to the fierce contention brought along
Innumerable force of fpirits arm'd,
That durft diflike his reign, and me preferring,
His utmoft pow'r with adverse pow'r oppos'd
In dubious battle on the plains of heaven
And shook his throne. What though the field be loft?
All is not loft; th' unconquerable will,
And study of revenge, immortal hate,
And courage never to fubmit or yield,
And what is elfe not to be overcome;
That glory never fhall his wrath or might
Extort from me. To bow and fue for
grace
With fuppliant knee, and deify his power,
Who from the terror of this arm fo late
Doubted his empire; that were low indeed,
That were an ignominy' and fhame beneath
This downfal; fince by fate the strength of gods...
And his empyreal fubflance cannot fail;
Since through experience of this great event
In arms not worfe, in forefight much advanc'd,
We may with more fuccefsful hope refolve
To wage
by force or guile eternal war,
Irreconcileable to our grand foe,
Who now triumphs, and in the excess of joy
Sole reigning holds the tyranny of heaven.
So fpake th' apoftate angel, though in pain;
Vaunting aloud, but rack'd with deep defpair:
And him thus anfwer'd foon his bold compeer.
O Prince, O chief of many throned powers,
That led th' embattell'd feraphim to war,
Under thy conduct, and in dreadful deeps
Fearless, endanger'd heav'n's perpetual King,
And put to proof his high fupremacy,
Whether upheld by ftrength, or chance, or fate;
Too well I fee, and rue the dire event,
That with fad overthrow and foul defeat
Hath loft us heav'n, and all this mighty host
In horrible deftruction laid thus low,
As far as gods and heav'nly effences
Can perifh for the mind and fp'rit remain,
Invincible, and vigour foon returns,
Though all our glory' extinct, and happy state
Here fwallow'd up in endless mifery.
But what if he, our conqu'ror (whom I now
Of force believe Almighty, fince no lefs
Than fuch could have o'erpower'd fuch force as ours)
Have left us thus our sp'rit and strength entire
Strongly to fuffer and support our pains
That we may fo fuffice his vengeful ire,
Or do him mightier service as his thralls
By right of war, whate'er his business be
Here in the heart of hell to work in fire,
́Or do his errands in the gloomy deep;
What can it then avail, though yet we feel
Strength undiminish'd, or eternal being
To undergo eternal punishment?
Whereto with speedy words th' arth fiend reply'd. Fall'n Cherub, to be weak is miserable
Doing or fuffering: but of this be fure,
To do ought good never will be our task,
But ever to do ill our fole delight,
As bei'ng the contrary to his high will
Whom we refift If then his providence
Out of our evil feek to bring forth good,
Our labour must be to pervert that end,
And out of good ftill to find means of evil;
Which oft-times may fucceed, so as perhaps
Shall grieve him, if I fail not, and disturb
His inmoft counfels from their deftin'd aim.
But fee the angry victor hath recall'd
His minifters of vengeance and purfuit
Back to the gates of heaven: fulphurous hail
Shot after us in ftorm, o'erblown hath laid
The fiery furge, that from the precipice
Of heav'n receiv'd us falling; and the thunder
Wing'd with red lightning and impetuous rage, 175
Perhaps hath fpent his fhafts, and ceafes now
To bellow through the vaft and boundless deep.
Let us not flip th' occafion, whether fcorn,
Or fatiate fury yield it from our foe.
Seeft thou yon dreary plain, forlorn and wild;
The feat of desolation, void of light,
Save what the glimm'ring of these livid flames
Cafts pale and dreadful? Thither let us tend
From off the toffing of these fiery waves;
There reft, if any reft can harbour there:
And reaffembling our afflicted powers,
Confult how we may henceforth most offend
Our enemy, our own lofs how repair,
How overcome this dire calamity,
What reinforcement we may gain from hope,
If not, what refolution from despair.
Thus Satan talking to his nearest mate
With head uplift above the wave, and eyes
That sparkling blaz'd, his other parts besides
Prone on the flood, extended long and large
Lay floating many a rood, in bulk as huge
As whom the fables name of monftrous fize,
Titanian, or Earth born, that warr'd on Jove,
Briareos or Typhon whom the den
By ancient Tarfus held, or that fea beaft
Leviathan, which Gon of all his works
Created hugeft that fwim the ocean stream:
Him haply flumb'ring on the Norway feam
The pilot of fome fmall night founder'd skiff
Deeming fome ifland, oft, as feamen tell,
With fixed anchor on his fcaly rind
Moors by his fide under the lee, while night
Invests the fea, and withed morn delays :
So ftretch'd out huge in length the arch fiend lay
Chain'd on the burning lake; nor even thence
Had ris'n, or heav'd his head, but that the will
And high permiffion of all-ruling Heaven
Left him at large to his own dark designs;
That with reiterated crimes he might
Heap on himself damnation, while he fought
Evil to others; and enrag'd might fee
How all his malice ferv'd but to bring forth
Infinite goodness, grace and mercy fhewn
On man by him feduc'd; but on himself
Treble confufion, wrath and vengeance pour❜à.
Forthwith upright he rears from off the pool
His mighty ftature: on each hand the flames
Driv'n backward flope their pointing fpears, and roll'd
In billows, leave i' th' midft a horrid vale.
Then with expanded wings he fteers his flight
Aloft, incumbent on the dusky air,
That felt unufual weight; till on dry land
He lights, if it were land that ever burn'd
With folid, as the lake with liquid fire;
And fuch appear'd in hue, as when the force
Of fubterranean wind tranfports a hill
Torn from Pelorus, or the shatter'd fide
Of thund'ring Etna, whofe combustible
And fuell'd entrails thence conceiving fire,
Sublim'd with mineral fury, aid the winds,
And leave a finged bottom all involv'd
With stench and smoke: fuch refting found the fole
Of unblefs'd feet. Him follow'd his next mate,
Both glorying to have 'fcap'd the Stygian flood
As gods, and by their own recover'd strength,
Not by the fufferance of fupernal power.
Is this the region, this the foil, the clime,
Said then the loft arch-angel? this the feat
That we must change for heav'n, this mournful gloom
For that celeftial light? Be' it fo, fince he,
Who now is fov'reign can difpose and bid
What fhall be right: fartheft from him is beft,
Whom reas'on hath equall'd, force hath made fupreme
Above his equals. Farewell happy fields,
D
|