And thou ly hypocrite, who now wouldst seem Patron of liberty, who more than thou Once fawn'd, and cring'd: and servilly ador'd Heav'n's awful monarch? wherefore but in hope To dispossess him, and thyself to reigne? But mark what I arreede thee now, avaunt; Flie thither whence thou fledst: if from this houre Within these hallow'd limits thou appeer, Back to th'infernal pit I drag thee chain'd, And feale thee so, as henceforth not to scorne The facil gates of hell too flightly barr'd. So threatn'd he, but Satan to no threats Gave heed, but waxing more in rage repli'd. Then when I am thy captive talk of chains, Proud limitarie cherube but ere then Far heavier load thyself expect to feel From my prevailing arm, though heaven's king Ride on thy wings, and thou with thy compeers, Us'd to the yoak, draw'st his triumphant wheels In progress through the road of heav'n star-pav'd. While thus he spake, th'angelic squadron bright Turn'd fierie red, sharpning in mooned hornes Their phalanx, and began to hemm him round With ported spears, as thick as when a field Of Ceres ripe for harvest waving bends Her bearded grove of ears, which way the wind Sways them; the careful plowman doubting stands Left on the threshing floore his hopeful shaves Prove chaff. On th'other fide Satan alarm'd Collecting all his might dilated stood, Like Teneriff or Atlas unremov'd:
His ftature reacht the skie, and on his creft Sat horror plum'd; nor wanted in his graspe What seem'd both spear and shield: now dreadful deeds
Might have ensu'd, nor onely Paradise In this commotion, but the starrie cope Of heav'n perhaps, or all the elements At least had gone to rack, disturb'd and torn With violence of this conflict, had not foon Th'Eternal to prevent such horrid fray Hung forth in heav'n his golden scales, yet seen Betwixt Astrea and the Scorpion fign, Wherein all things created first he weigh'd, The pendulous round earth with ballanc't aire In counterpoise, now ponders all events, Battles and realms: in these he put two weights, The sequel each of parting and of fight; The latter quick up flew, and kickt the beam; Which Gabriel spying, thus bespake the fiend.
Satan, I know thy strength, and thou knowst mine, Neither our own but giv'n; what follie then To boast what arms can do, fince thine no more Then heav'n permits, nor mine, though doubl'd now To trample thee as mire: for proof look up, And read thy lot in yon celestial sign
Where thou art weigh'd, and shown how light, how weak, If thou refift. The fiend lookt up and knew His mounted scale aloft: nor more; but fled Murmuring, and with him fted the shades of night.
The End of the Fourth Book.
OW Morn her rosie steps in th'eastern clime
N Advancing, fow'd the earth with orient pearle,
When Adam wak't, so custom'd, for his sleep Was aerie light, from pure digestion bred, And temperat vapours bland, which th' only found Of leaves and fuming rills, Aurora's fan, Lightly dispers'd, and the shrill matin song Of birds on every bough; so much the more His wonder was to find unwak'nd Eve With tresses discompos'd, and glowing cheek, As through unquiet rest: he on his fide Leaning half rais'd, with looks of cordial love Hung over her enamour'd, and beheld Beautie, which whether waking or asleep, Shot forth peculiar graces; then with voice Milde, as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes, Her hand foft touching, whisper'd thus. Awake My fairest, my espous'd, my latest found, Heav'n's last best gift, my ever new delight, Awake, the morning shines, and the fresh field Calls us, we lose the prime, to mark how spring Our tended plants, how blows the citron grove, What drops the myrrhe, and what the balmie reed, How nature paints her colours, how the bee Sits on the bloom extracting liquid sweet.
Such whisp'ring wak'd her, but with startl'd eye On Adam, whom imbracing, thus she spake.
O fole in whom my thoughts find all repose, My glorie, my perfection, glad I fee Thy face, and morn return'd, for I this night, Such night till this I never pass'd, have dream'd, If dream'd, not as I oft am wont, of thee, Works of day past, or morrow's next design, But of offence and trouble, which my mind Knew never till this irksome night; methought Close at mine ear one call'd me forth to walk With gentle voice, I thought it thine; it said, Why sleepst thou Eve? now is the, pleasant time, The cool, the filent, save where filence yields To the night-warbling bird, that now awake Tunes sweetest his love-labor'd song; now reignes Full orb'd the moon, and with more pleasing light Shadowie sets 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 whose fight all things joy, with ravishment Attracted by thy beauty ftill to gaze. I rose as at thy call, but found thee not; To find thee I directed then my walk; And on, methought, alone I pass'd through wayes That brought me on a sudden to the tree Of interdicted knowledge: fair it seem'd, Much fairer to my fancie then by day : And as I wondring lookt, beside it stood
One shap'd and wing'd like one of those from heav'n
By us oft seen; his dewie locks distill'd Ambrofia; on that tree he also gaz'd;
And O fair plant, faid he, with fruit furcharg'd,
Deigns none to ease thy load and taste thy sweet, Nor God, nor man; is knowledge so despis'd? Or envie, or what reserve forbids to taste ? Forbid who will, none shall from me withhold Longer thy offer'd good, why else set here ? This faid he paus'd not, but with ventrous arm He pluckt, he tasted; mee damp horror chill'd At fuch bold words voucht with a deed so bold: But he thus overjoy'd, o fruit divine,
Sweet of thyself but much more sweet thus cropt, Forbidd'n here, it seems, as onely fit For Gods, yet able to make Gods of men: And why not Gods of men, since good, the more Communicated, more abundunt growes, The author not impair'd, but honour'd more? Here, happie creature, fair angelic Eve, Partake thou also; happie though thou art, Happier thou mayst be, worthier canst not be : Taste this, and be henceforth among the gods Thyself a godders, not to earth confin'd, But sometimes in the air, as we, sometimes Afcend to heav'n, by merit thine, and see What life the gods live there, and fuch live thou. So saying, he drew nigh, and to me held, Even to my mouth of that same fruit held part Which he had pluckt; the pleasant favourie smell So quick'n'd appetite, that I, methought, Could not but taste. Forthwith up to the clouds With him I flew, and underneath beheld The earth outstretcht immense, a prospect wide And various; wondring at my flight and change
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