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A summer's day; and with the setting sun
Dropt from the zenith like a falling star,
On Lemnos, th' Ægean isle: thus they relate,
Erring; for he with this rebellious rout

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Fell long before; nor aught avail'd him now
T' have built in heav'n high tow'rs; nor did he 'scape
By all his engines, but was headlong sent

With his industrious crew to build in hell.

Meanwhile, the winged heralds, by command

Of sov'reign pow'r, with awful ceremony

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And trumpet's sound, throughout the host proclaim A solemn council, forthwith to be held

At Pandemonium, the high capital

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Of Satan and his peers: their summons call'd
From every band and squared regiment
they anon,
By place or choice the worthiest ;
With hundreds and with thousands, trooping came,
Attended: all accéss was throng'd; the gates
And porches wide, but chief the spacious hall
(Though like a cover'd field, where champions bold
Wont ride in arm'd, and at the Soldan's chair
Defied the best of Panim chivalry
To mortal combat, or career with lance,)
Thick swarm'd, both on the ground and in the air,
Brush'd with the hiss of rustling wings. As bees
In spring-time, when the sun with Taurus rides,
Pour forth their populous youth about the hive
In clusters; they among fresh dews and flow'rs
Fly to and fro, or on the smoothed plank,
The suburb of their straw-built citadel,

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New rubb'd with balm, expatiate, and confer
Their state affairs: so thick the aery crowd
Swarm'd and were straiten'd; till, the signal giv'n,
Behold a wonder! They but now who seem'd
In bigness to surpass earth's giant sons,
Now less than smallest dwarfs, in narrow room
Throng numberless, like that pygméan race

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Beyond the Indian mount; or faery elves,
Whose midnight revels, by a forest-side
Or fountain, some belated peasant sees,

Or dreams he sees, while over head the moon
Sits arbitress, and nearer to the earth

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Wheels her pale course; they, on their mirth and dance
Intent, with jocund music charm his ear:

At once with joy and fear his heart rebounds.
Thus incorporeal sp'rits to smallest forms
Reduc'd their shapes immense, and were at large, 790
Though without number still, amidst the hall
Of that infernal court. But far within,
And in their own dimensions, like themselves,
The great seraphic lords and cherubim
In close recess and secret conclave sat;
A thousand demigods on golden seats
Frequent and full. After short silence then,
And summons read, the great consult began.

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BOOK II.

THE ARGUMENT.

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 creature, 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.

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 merit 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 heav'n,
Did first create your leader; next, free choice,
With what besides, in council or in fight,
Hath been achiev'd of merit; yet this loss,
Thus far at least recover'd, hath much more
Establish'd in a safe unenvied throne,

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Yielded with full consent. The happier state
In heav'n, which follows dignity, might draw
Envy from each inferior: but who here
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,

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We now debate: who can advise, may speak."
He ceas'd; and next him Moloch, sceptred king,
Stood up, the strongest and the fiercest sp'rit
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: 50
My sentence is for open war; of wiles,

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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, opprobrious den of shame,
The prison of his tyranny who reigns
By our delay? No! let us rather chuse,

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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.

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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,

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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

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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
Inexorable, and the torturing hour

Calls us to penance? More destroy'd than thus,
We should be quite abolish'd, and expire.

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

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Will either quite consume us, and reduce
To nothing this essential;-happier far

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