From mortal or immortal winds. Thus they, Breathing united force, with fixed thought Mov'd on in filence to foft pipes that charm'd Their painful steps o'er the burnt foil; and now Advanc'd in view, they ftand, a horrid front Of dreadful length and dazzling arms, in guife Of warriors old with order'd fpear and shield, Awaiting what command their mighty chief Had to impofe; he through the armed files Darts his experienc'd eye, and foon traverse The whole battalion, views their order due, Their vifages and ftature, as of gods; Their number laft he fums. And now his heart Diftends with pride, and hard'ning in his strength Glories: for never fince created man Met fuch embodied force, as nam'd with these "Could merit more than that small infantry Warr'd on by cranes; though all the giant brood Of Phlegra with th' heroic race were join'd That fought at Thebes and Ilium, on each fide Mix'd with auxiliar Gods; and what refounds In fable or romance of Uther's fon, Begirt with British and Armoric knights; And all who fince, baptiz'd or infidel, Joufted in Afpramont or Montalban, Damafco, or Marocco, or Trebifond, Or whom Biferta fent from Afric's fhore, When Charlemain, with all his peerage, fell By Fontarabia. Thus far thefe beyond Compare of mortal prowess, yet obferv'd Their dread Commander: he above the reft In fhape and gefture proudly eminent, Stood like a tower; his form had not yet loft All her original brightnefs, nor appear'd Lefs than Arch-angel ruin'd, and th' excefs Of glory obfcur'd; as when the fun new rifen Looks through the horizontal misty air Shorn of his beams, or from behind the moon In dim eclipfe difaftrous twilight sheds On half the nations, and with fear of change Perplexes monarchs. Darken'd fo, yet fhone Above them all th' Arch-angel; but his face Deep fears of thunder had entrenched, and Care Sat on his faded cheek, but under-brows Of dauntless courage, and confiderate pride Waiting revenge : cruel his eye, but cast Signs of remorte and paffion to behold The fellows of his crime, the followers rather (Far other once beheld in blifs) condemn'd For ever now to have their lot in pain, Millions of fpirits for his fault amerc'd Of Heav'n, and from eternal fplendors flung For his revolt, yet faithful, how they stood, 'Their glory wither'd: as when Heaven's fire Hath feath'd the foreft oaks, or mountain pines, With finged top their stately growth, though bare, Stands on the blafted heath. He now prepar'd To fpeak; whereat their doubled ranks they bend From wing to wing, and half inclofe him round With all his peers: attention held them mute. Thrice he effay'd, and thrice in spite of scorn, Tears fuch as angels weep, burst forth at last Words, interwove with fighs, found out their way. O myriads of immortal Sp'rits! O Powers Matchless! but with th' Almighty, and that ftrife

Was not inglorious, though th' event was dire,
As this place teftifies, and this dire change,
Hateful to utter: but what pow'r of mind
Forefeeing or prefaging, from the depth
Of knowledge paft or prefent, could have fear'd,
How fuch united force of gods, how fuch
As flood like thefe, could ever know repulfe?
For who can yet believe, though after lofs,
That all these puiffant legions, whofe exile
Hath emptied Heav'n, fhall fail to re-afcend,
Self-railed, and repoffeffes their native feat ?
For me be witnefs, all the host of heaven,
If counfels different, or danger fhunn'd
By me, have loft our hopes. But he who reigns
Monarch in Heav'n, till then as one fecure
Sat on his throne, upheld by old repute
Confent or custom, and his regal state
Put forth at full; but ftill his ftrength conceal'd,
Which tempted our attempt, and wrought our fall.
Henceforth his might we know, and know our own,
So as not either to provoke, or dread
New war, provok'd; our better part remains
To work in clofe defign, by fraud or guile,
What force effected not; that he no lefs
At length from us may fiud, who overcomes
By force, hath overcome but half his foe.
Space may produce new worlds; whereof fo rife
There went a fame in Heav'n, that he e'er long
Intended to create, and therein plant
A generation, whem his choice regard
Should favour equal to the fons of Heav'n :
Thither, if but to pry, fhall be perhaps
Our firft eruption, thither or elsewhere:
For this infernal pit fhall never hold
Celestial fp'rits in bondage, nor th' abyfs
Long under darkness cover. But these thoughts
Full counfel must mature: peace is defpair'd,
For who can think fubmiffion? War then, war,
Open or understood, must be refolv'd.

He fpake and to confirm his words, out-flew
Millions of flaming fwords, drawn from the thighs
Of mighty cherubim; the fudden blaze
Far round illumin'd Hell: highly they rag'd
Against the Highest, and fierce with grafped arms
Clafh'd on their founding fhields the din of war
Hurling defiance tow'rd the vault of heav'n.

There ftood a hill not far, whofe grifly top
Belch'd fire and rolling fmoke; the reft entire
Shone with a giofly fcurf, undoubted fign
That in his womb was hid metallic ore,
The work of fulphur. Thither wing'd with speed
A numerous brigade haften'd: as when bands
Of pioneers, with spade and pick-axe arm'd,
Forerun the royal camp, to trench a field,
Or caft a rampart. Mammon led them on,
Mammon, the least erected sp'rit that fell
From Heav'n, for ev'n in Heav'n his looks and
thoughts

Were always downward bent, admiring more
The riches of Heav'n's pavement, trodden gold,
Than ought divine, or holy elle enjoy'd
In vifion beatific: by him first
M en alfo, and by his fuggeftion taught,
Ranfack'd the centre, and with impious hands
Rifled the bowels of their mother Earth

For treasures better hid. Soon had his crew
Open'd into the hill a fpacious wound,
And digg'd out ribs of gold. Let none admire
That riches grow in Hell; that foil may beit
Deferve the precious bane. And here let those
Who boast in mortal things, and wond'ring tell
Of Babel, and the works of Memphian kings,
Learn how their greatest monuments of fame,
And strength, and art, are easily out-done
By fpirits reprobate, and in an hour
What in an age they with inceffant toil,
And hands innumerable, fcarce perform.
Nigh on the plain in many cells prepar'd,
That underneath had veins of liquid fire
Sluic'd from the lake, a fecond multitude
With wondrous art founded the maffy ore,
Sev'ring each kind, and scumm'd the bullion drofs;
A third as foon had form'd within the ground
A various mould, and from the boiling cells,
By ftrange conveyance, fill'd each hollow nook,
As in an organ from one blaft of wind

To many a row of pipes the found-board breathes.
Anon, out of the earth a fabric huge
Rofe like an exhalation, with the found
Of dulcet fymphonies and voices sweet,
Built like a temple, where pilasters round
Were fet, and Doric pillars overlaid
With golden architrave; nor did there want
Cornice or fricze, with boffy fculptures graven ;
The roof was fretted gold. Not Babylon,
Nor great Alcairo fuch magnificence
Equall'd in all their glories, to infhrine
Belus or Serapis their gods, or feat

Their kings, when Egypt with Affyria strove
In wealth and luxury. Th' afcending pile
Stood fix'd her stately height, and strait the doors
Opening their brazen folds, discover wide
Within her ample spaces o'er the smooth
And level pavement: from the arched roof
Pendent by fubtile magic, many a row
Of ftarry lamps and blazing creffets, fed
With Naptha and Asphaltus, yielded light
As from a fky. The hafty multitude
Admiring enter'd, and the work fome praise,
And fome the Architect: his hand was known
In Heav'n by many a towered structure high,
Where fcepter'd angels held their refidence,
And fat as princes, whom the fupreme king,
Exalted to fuch power, and gave to rule,
Each in his hierarchy, the orders bright.
Nor was his name unheard or unador'd
In ancient Greece; and in Aufonian land
Men call'd him Mulciber; and how he fell
From heav'n they fabled, thrown by angry Jove
Sheer o'er the crystal battlements: from morn
To noon he fell, from noon to dewy eve,
A fummer's day; and with the setting fun

Dropt from the zenith, like a falling ftar,
On Lemnos th' Ægean ifle: thus they relate,
Erring; for he with this rebellious rout
Fell long before; nor ought avail'd him now
T' have built in Heav'n high tow'rs; nor did he
'fcape

By all his engines, but was headlong fent,
With his induftrious crew, to build in Hell.

Mean while the winged heralds by command
Of fov'reign pow'r, with awful ceremony
And trumpet's found, throughout the hoft proclaime
A folemn council forthwith to be held
At Pandemonium, the high capital

Of Satan and his peers: their fummons call'd
From every band and squared regiment
By place or choice the worthiest; they anon
With hundreds and with thoufands trooping came
Attended: all accefs 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
Defy'd the beft of Panim chivalry

To mortal combat, or career with lance)
Thick fwarm'd, both on the ground and in the air
Brufh'd with the hifs of ruftling wings. As bees
In fpring-time, when the fun with Taurus rides,
Pour forth their populous youth about the hive
In clusters; they among fresh dews and flowers
Fly to and fro, or on the fmoothed plank,
The fuburb of their ftraw-built citadel,
New rubb'd with balm, expatiate and confer
Their ftate affairs. So thick the airy crowd
Swarm'd and were ftraiten'd; till, the fignal given,
Behold a wonder! they but now who feem'd
In bigness to surpass earth's giant fons,

Now lefs than fmalleft dwarfs, in narrow room
Throng numberlefs, like that Pygmean race
Beyond the Indian mount, or fairy elves,
Whofe midnight revels by a forest fide
Or fountain fome belated peasant fees,

Or dreams he fees, while over-head the moon
Sits arbitrefs, and nearer to the earth
Wheels her pale courfe; they on their mirth and
Intent with jocund mufic charm his ear; [dance
At once with joy and fear his heart rebounds.
Thus incorporeal fp'rits to smallest forms
Reduc'd their fhapes immenfe, and were at large,
Though without number still amidst the hall
Of that infernal court. But far within,
And in their own dimenfions like themselves,
The great feraphic lords and cherubim
In clofe recefs and fecret conclave, fat
A thousand demi-gods on golden feats,
Frequent and full. After fhort filence then,
And fummons read, the great confult began.

HIGH on a throne of royal state, which far

Outshone the wealth of Ormos and of Ind,
Or where the gorgeous eaft with richeft hand
Show'rs on her kings barbaric pearl and gold,
Satan exalted fat, by merit rais'd

To that bad eminence; and from defpair
Thus high uplifted beyond hope, afpires
Beyond thus high, infatiate to purfue
Vain war with heav'n, and, by fuccefs untaught,
His proud imaginations thus difplay'd,

Pow'rs and dominions, deities of Heav'n,
For fince no deep within her gulph can hold
Immortal vigour, though oppress'd and fall'n
I give not heav'n for loft. From this defcent
Celestial virtues rifing, will appear

More glorious and more dread than from no fall,
And trust themselves to fear no fecond fate.
Me though just right, and the fix'd laws of Heav'n
Did first create your leader, next free choice,
With what befides, in counfel or in fight,
Hath been achiev'd of merit, yet this lofs,
Thus far at leaft recover'd, hath much more
Establish'd in a fafe and unenvied throne,
Yielded with full confent. The happier state
In heav'n, which follows dignity, might draw
Envy from each inferior; but who here
Will envy whom the highest place expofes
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 ftrive, no ftrife can grow up there
From faction; for none fure will claim in Hell
Precedence; none whofe portion is fo fmall
Of prefent 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 Heaven, we now return
To claim our juft inheritance of old,
Surer to profper than prosperity

Could have affur'd us; and by what best way,
Whether of open war or covert guile,
We now debate; who can advise may speak.

He ceaf'd; and next him Moloch, scepter'd king,
Stood up, the strongest and the fierceft spirit
That fought in heaven, now fiercer by despair:
His truft was with th' Eternal to be deem'd
Equal in ftrength, and rather than be lefs
Car'd not to be at all; with that care loft
Went all his fear of God, or hell, or worfe
He reck'd not, and these words thereafter spake.
My fentence 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 fit contriving, fhall the reft,
Millions that ftand in arms, and longing wait
The fignal to afcend, fit ling'ring here
Heav'ns fugitives, and for their dwelling place
Accept this dark oppobrious den of thame

The prifon of his tyranny who reigns By our delay? No, let us rather choose, Armi'd with hell flames and fury, all at once O'er heav'n's high tow'rs to force refiflefs way, Turning our tortures into horrid arms Against the tort'rer; when to meet the noife Of his almighty engine he fhall hear Infernal thunder, and for lightning fee Elack fire and horror fhot with equal rage Among his angels, and his throne itfelf Mix'd with Tartarean fulphur, and strange fire, His own invented torments. Eut, perhaps, The way feems difficult and fteep to feale With upright wing again a higher foe. Let fuch bethink them, if the fleepy drench Of that forgetful lake benumb not ftill, 'That in our proper motion we afcend Up to our native feat: defcent and fall To us is adverfe. Who but felt of late, When the fierce for hung on our broken rear, Infulting, and purfued us through the deep, With what compulfion and laborious flight We funk thus low? Th' afcent is eafy then; Th' event is fear'd; fhould we again provoke Our ftronger, fome worfe way his wrath may find To our destruction; if there be in hell Fear to be worf: deftroy'd: what can be worfe Than to dwell here, driv'n out from blifs, conIn this abhorred deep to utter woe; Where pain of unextinguishable fire Muft exercife us, without hope of end, The vaffals of his anger, when the fcourge Inexorably, and the torturing hour Calls us to penance? More defroy'd than thus, We fhould be quite abolish'd, and expire. What fear we then? what doubt we to incenfe His utmost ire? which, to the height enrag'd, Will either quite confume us, and reduce To nothing this effential, happier far Than miferable to have eternal being: Or if our fubftance be indeed divine, And cannot ceafe to be, we are at worst On this fide nothing; and by proof we fell, Our pow'r fufficient to disturb his heav'n, And with perpetual inroads to alarm, Though innaceffible, his fatal throne: Which, if not victory, is yet revenge.

[demn'd

He ended frowning, and his look denounc'd Defp'rate revenge, and battle dangerous To lefs than gods. On th' other fide up rofe Belial, in act more graceful and humane; A fairer perfon loft not heav'n; he feem'd For dignity compof'd, and high exploit: But all was falfe and hollow; though his tongue Dropt manna, and could make the worfe appear The better reafon, to perplex and dath Matureft counfels: for his thoughts were low, To vice induftrious, but to nobler deeds Timorous and flothful: yet he pleaf'd the ear, And with perfuafive accent thus began:

I fhould be much for open war, O Peers, As not behind in hate; if what was urg'd Main reafon to perfuade immediate war, Did not diffuade me most, and seem to caft Ominous conjecture on the whole fuccefs:

When he who most excels in fact of arms,
In what he counfels, and in what excels,
Mistrustful, grounds his courage on defpair,
And utter diffolution, as the scope

Of all his aim, after fome dire revenge.

First, what revenge? the towers of heav'n are fill'd
With armed watch, that render all acçefs
Impregnable; oft on the bord'ring deep
Encamp their legions, or with obfcure wing
Scout far and wide into the realm of night,
Scorning furprise. Or could we break our way
Py force, and at our heels all hell fhould rife
With blackest infurrection, to confound
Heav'n's pureft light, yet our great enemy,
All incorruptible, would on his throne
Sit unpolluted, and th' ethereal mould,
Incapable of ftain, would foon expel
Her mitchief, and purge off the bafer fire,
Victorious. Thus repulf'd, our final hope
Is flat defpair: we mutt exasperate

Th' almighty victor to spend all his rage,
And that must end us; that must be our cure,
To be no more; fad cure! for who would loft,'
Though full of pain, this intellectual being,
Thofe thoughts that wander through eternity,
To perith rather, fwallow'd up and loft
In the wide womb of uncreated night,
Devoid of fenfe and motion? and who knows,
Let this be good, whether cur angry foe
Can give it, or will ever? how he can,
Is doubtful; that he never will, is fure.
Will he, fo wife, let loofe at once his ire,
Belike through impotence, or unaware,
To give his enemics their wifh, and end
Them in his anger, whom his anger faves.
To punifh endlefs? Wherefore ceafe we then?
Say they who counfel war, we are decreed,
Referv'd, and deftin'd to eternal woe;
Whatever deing, what can we fuffer more,
What can we fuffer worfe? Is this then worst,
Thus fitting, thus confulting, thus in arms?
What, when we fled amain, and purfu'd and ftruck
With heav'n's afilicting thunder, and befought
The deep to fhelter us? this hell then feem'd
A refuge from thofe wounds; or when we lay
Chain'd on the burning lake? that fure was worfe
What, if the breath that kindled those grim fires,
Awak'd, thould blow them into seven-fold-rage,
And plunge us in the flames? or from above,
Should intermitted vengeance arm again
His red right hand to plague us? what, if all
Her ftores were open'd, and this firmament
Of hell fhould Spout her cataracts of fire,
Impendent horrors, threat'ning hideous fall
One day upon our heads; while we, perhaps,
Defigning or exhorting glorious war,
Caught in a fiery tempeft, fhall be hurl'd
Each on his rock transfix'd, the sport and prey
Of wracking whirlwinds, or for ever funk
Under yon boiling ocean, wrapt in chains;
There to converfe with everlafting groans,
Unrefpited, unpitied, unrepriev'd,
Ages of hopeleis end? this would be worse.
War, therefore, open or conceal'd, alike
My voice diffuades; for what can force or guile
B

With him, or who deceive his mind, whofe eyc
Views all things at one view? he from heav'n's
All these our motions vain fees and derides; [height
Net more almighty to refift our might,
Than wife to fruftrate all our plots and wiles.
Shall we then live thus vile, the race of heaven,
Thus trampled, thus expell'd to fuffer here

Chains and thefe torments? better thefe than worfe
By my advice; fince fate inevitable
Subdues us, and omnipotent decree,
The victor's will. To fuffer, as to do,
Our strength is equal, nor the law unjust
That fo ordains: this was at first refolv'd,
If we were wife, against fo great a foe
Contending, and fo doubtful what might fall.
I laugh, when thofe who at the fpear are bold
And vent'rous, if that fail them, fhrink and fear
What yet they know must follow, to endure
Exile, or ignominy, or bonds, or pain,
The fentence of their conqueror: this is now
Our doom; which if we can fuftain and bear,
Our fupreme foe in time may much remit
His anger, and perhaps thus far remov'd,
Not mind us not offending, fatisfy'd

With what is punifh'd; whence thefe ranging fires
Will flacken, if his breath ftir not their flames.
Our purer effence then will overcome
Their noxious vapour, or, inur'd, not feel,
Or chang'd at length, and to the place conform`d
In temper and in nature, will receive
Familiar the fierce heat, and void of pain;
This horror will grow mild, this darkness light,
Befides what hope the never-ending flight [change
Of future days may bring, what chance, what
Worth waiting, fince cur prefent lot appears
For happy though but ill, for ill not worst,
If we procure not to ourfelves more woe.

[garb,

Thus Belial, with words cloth'd in reafon's
Counsel'd ignoble cafe, and peaceful floth,
Not peace and after him thus Mammon spake:
Either to difenthrone the King of Heaven
We war, if war be beit, or to regain

Our own right loft: him to unthrone we then
May hope, when everlasting fate fhall yield
To fickle chance, and Chaos judge the ftrife:
The former vain to hope, argues as vain
The latter: for what place can be for us
Within heav'n's bound, unless heav'n's Lord fu-
We overpow'r? Suppose he should relent, [preme
And publish grace to all, on promise made
Of new fubjection; with what eyes could we
Stand in his prefence humble, and receive
Strict laws impos'd to celebrate his throne
With warbled hymns, and to his Godhead fing
Forc'd hallelujahs; while he lordly fits
Our envied Sov'reign, and his altar breathes
Ambrofial odors and ambrofial flowers,
Our fervile offerings? This must be our task
In heav'n, this our delight; how wearifome
Eternity fo spent in worship paid

To whom we hate! Let us not then pursue
By force impoffible, by leave obtain'd
Unacceptable, though in heav n, our state
Of fplendid vaffalage; but rather feek

Our own good from curfelves, and from our own,

Live to ourselves, though in this vaft recefs,
Free, and to none accountable, preferring
Hard liberty before the eafy yoke

Of fervile pomp. Our greatnefs will appear
Then moft confpicuous, when great things of fmall
Ufeful of hurtful, profp'rous of adverfe

[fire

We can create, in what place foe'er
Thrive under evil, and work cafe out of pain,
Through labour and endurance. This deep world
Of darkness do we dread? How oft amidst
Thick clouds and dark doth heaven's all-ruling
Choose to refide, his glory unobfcur'd,
And with the majesty of darkness round
Covers his throne; from whence deep thunders roar,
Muf'ring their rage, and heav'n refembles heil?
As he our darknefs, cannot we his light
Imitate when we pleafe? This defert foil
Wants not her hidden luftre, gems and gold;
Nor want we fkill or art, from whence to raise
Magnificence; and what can heav n fhew more?
Our torments alfo may in length of time
Become our elements; thefe piercing fires
As foft as now fevere; our temper chang'd
Into their temper; which muft needs remove
The fenfible of pain. All things invite
To peaceful counfels, and the fettled state
Of order, how in fafety beft we may
Compofe our prefent evils, with regard
Of what we are and where, difmifling quite
All thoughts of war. Ye have what I advife.

He fearce had finifh'd, when fuch murmur fill'¿
Th' aflembly, as when hollow rocks retain
The found of bluft ring winds, which all night long
Had rous'd the fea, now with hoarfe cadence luil
Sca-faring men o erwatch d, whofe bark by chance
Or pinnace anchors in a craggy bay

After the tempeft: fuch appiaufe was heard
As Mammon ended, and his fentence pleas'd,
Advifing peace: for fuch another field

They dreaded worfe than hell: fo much the fear
Of thunder and the fword of Michael
Wrought ftill within them: and no less defire
To found this nether empire, which might rife
By policy, and long procefs of time,
In emulation opposite to Heav'n.
Which, when Beelzebub perceiv'd, than whom,
Satan except, none higher fat, with grave
Afpect he rofe, and in his rifing feem'd

A pillar of state; deep on his front ingraven
Deliberation fat, and public care;

And princely counfel in his face yet fhone
Majeftic, though in ruin: fage he stood,
With Atlantean fhoulders fit to bear
The weight of mightiest monarchies; his look
Drew audience and attention ftill as night
Or fummer's noon-tide air, while thus he fpake:
Thrones and imperial pow'rs, offspring of
Ethereal virtues; or thefe titles now Heav'n,
Muft we renounce, and, changing ftile, be call'd
Princes of Hell? for fo the popular vote
Inclines, here to continue, and build up here
A growing empire; doubtlefs, while we dream,
And know not that the King of Heav'n hath
doom'd

This place cur dungeon, not our fafe retreat