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Join'd with me once, now misery hath join'd
In equal ruin! Into what pit thou seeft,
From what height fall'n; fo much the stronger prov'd
He with his thunder! and till then who knew


The force of thofe dire arms? Yet not for thofe,
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 disdain, from sense of injur'd merit,
That with the Mightiest rais'd me to contend:
And to the fierce contention brought along
Innumerable force of spirits arm'd,

That durft diflike his reign: and me preferring,
His utmost pow'r with adverse pow'r oppos'd,
In dubious battel on the plains of heav'n,



And fhook his throne. What tho' the field be loft ?
All is not loft; th' unconquerable will,
And study of revenge, immortal hate,
And courage never to submit or yield;
(And what is elfe not to be overcome?)
That glory never shall His wrath or might
Extort from me, to bow and sue for grace
With fuppliant knee, and deifie His pow'r,
Who from the terror of this arm fo late
Doubted His empire. That were low indeed!
That were an ignominy and shame beneath
This downfal! fince (by fate) the strength of Gods,
And this empyreal substance cannot fail;
Since through experience of this great event,
(In arms not worse, in forefight much advanc'd,)



We may, with more fuccessful hope, refolve
To wage by force or guile eternal war,
Irreconcileable to our grand foe:
Who now triumphs, and in th' excess of joy
Sole reigning, holds the tyranny of heav'n.

So fpake th' apoftate Angel, though in pain; 125
Vaunting aloud, but rack'd with deep despair:
And him thus anfwer'd foon his bold compeer.
O Prince! O chief of many throned Powers,
That led th' imbattell'd Seraphim to war
Under thy conduct! and in dreadful deeds
Fearless, indanger'd heav'n's perpetual King,
And put to proof His high fupremacy:
Whether upheld by strength, 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 hoft
In horrible destruction laid thus low,
As far as Gods, and heav'nly effences,
Can perish: for the mind and spirit remains
Invincible, and vigor 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 less
Than fuch could have o'erpower'd fuch force as ours)
Have left us this our spirit and strength entire, 146
Strongly to fuffer and fupport our pains;
That we may fo fuffice His vengeful ire,
Or do Him mightier fervice, 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' Arch-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 being the contrary to his High will
Whom we refift. If then His Providence
Out of our evil feek to bring forth good,
Our labor must be to pervert that end,
And out of good still 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 destin'd aim.
But fee! the angry victor hath recall'd
His minifters of vengeance and purfuit,
Back to the gates of heav'n: the fulph'rous hail
Shot after us in storm, o'er-blown, 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 spent his fhafts, and ceases now
To bellow through the vast and boundless Deep.
Let us not flip th' occafion, whether fcorn,
Or fatiate fury, yield it from our foe.


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Seeft thou yon dreary plain, forlorn and wild, 180 The feat of defolation, void of light,

Save what the glimmering 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 re-assembling our afflicted pow'rs,
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; 190
If not, what refolution from despair.

Thus Satan talking to his nearest mate,
With head up-lift above the wave, and eyes
That sparkling blaz'd; his other parts besides
Prone on the flood, extended long and large 195
Lay floating many a rood: in bulk as huge,
As whom the fables name, of monftrous size,
Titanian, or Earth-born, that warr'd on Jove,
Briareus, or Typhon, whom the den
By ancient Tarfus held; or that fea-beast
Leviathan, which God of all his works
Created hugeft that fwim th' ocean ftream :
(Him, haply flumb'ring on the Norway foam,
The pilot of fome small night-founder'd skiff,
Deeming fome island, oft, as feamen tell,
With fixed anchor in his fcaly rind,
Moors by his fide under the Lee, while night
Invests the fea, and wished morn delays.)
So ftretch'd out huge in length the Arch-fiend lay,



Chain'd on the burning lake: nor ever 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 defigns:
That with reiterated crimes he might

Heap on himself damnation, while he fought 215
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'd. 220
Forthwith upright he rears from off the pool
His mighty ftature; on each hand the flames
Driv'n backward flope their pointing fpires,and rowl'd
In billows, leave i' th' midst a horrid vale.
Then with expanded wings he steers his flight 225
Aloft, incumbent on the dusky air,


That felt unusual 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 appeard in hue, as when the force
Of fubterranean wind transports a hill
Torn from Pelorus, or the fhatter'd fide
Of thund'ring Etna, whofe combustible
And fuel'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,



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