The consultation begun, Satan debates whether another battle be to be hazarded for the recovery of Heaven: Some advise it, others dissuade. A third proposal is preferred, mentioned before by Satan, to search the truth of that prophecy or tradition in Heaven concerning another world, and another kind of creatore, equal or not much inferior, to themselves, about this time to be created. Their doubt who shall be sent on this difficult search. Satan, their chief, undertakes alone the voyage; is honoured and applauded. The council thus ended, the rest betake them several ways, and to several employments, as their inclinations led them, to entertain the time till Satan return. He passes on his journey to Hell gates; finds them shut, and who sat there to guard them; by whom at length they are opened, and discover to him the gulf between Hell and Heaven; with what difficulty he passes through, directed by Chaos, the Power of that place, to the sight of this new world which he sought.
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 Show'rs on her kings barbaric pearl and gold, Satan exalted sat, by merits rais'd
To that bad eminence; and, from despair
Thus high uplifted beyond hope, aspires
Beyond thus high, insatiate to pursue
Vain war with Heav'n; and, by success untaught, His proud imaginations, thus display'd.
Pow'rs and Dominions, Deities of Heav'n! For, since no deep within her gulf can hold Immortal vigour, though oppress'd and fall'n, I give not Heav'n for lost. From this descent Celestial virtues, rising, will appear
More glorious and more dread than from no fall, And trust themselves to fear no second fate.
Me, though just right and the fix'd laws of Heaven
Did first create your leader, next free choice,
With what besides, in council or in fight,
Hath been atchiev'd of merit, yet this loss,
Thus far at least recover'd, hath much more Establish'd in a safe unenvied throne, Yielded with full consent. The happier state In Heav'n, which follows dignity, might draw Envy from each inferior; but who here Ꭰ
Will envy whom the highest place exposes Foremost to stand against the Thund'rer'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 Heav'n, we now return To claim our just inheritance of old, Surer to prosper than prosperity
Could have assur'd us; and by what best way, Whether of open war or covert guile,
He ceas'd; and next him Moloch, scepter'd king,
We now debate; who can advise may speak."
Stood up; the strongest and fiercest Spirit
That fought in Heav'n, now fiercer by despair: His trust was with th' Eternal to be deem'd Equal in strength, and rather than be less, Car'd not to be at all; with that care lost Went all his fear of God, or Hell, or worse, He reck'd not, and these words thereafter spake. "My sentence 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 ling'ring here Heav'n's fugitives, and for their dwelling-place Accept this dark opprobious den of shame, The prison of his tyranny who reigns
By our delay? No, let us rather choose,
Arm'd with Hell-flames and fury, all at once
O'er Heav'n's high tow'rs 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 Among his Angels, and his throne itself Mix'd with Tartarean sulphur, and strange fire, His own invented torments. But perhaps The way seems difficult and steep, to scale With upright 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.
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? Th' ascent is easy then; Th' event is fear'd; 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 destroy'd: what can be worse
Than to dwell here, driv'n out from bliss, condemn'd
In this abhorred deep to utter woe:
Where pain of unextinguishable fire
Must exercise us without hope of end
The vassals of his anger, when the scourge
Inexorably, and the torturing hour,
Calls us to penance? More destroy'd than thus, We should be quite abolish'd, and expire.
What fear we then? what doubt we to incense
His utmost ire? which, to the height enrag'd, 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 On this side nothing; and by proof we feel Our pow'r sufficient to disturb his Heaven, And with perpetual inroads to alarm, Though inaccessible, his fatal throne; Which if not victory, is yet revenge,'
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