Deliberate valor breath'd, firm and unmov'd With dread of death to flight or foul retreat; Nor wanting pow'r to mitigate and swage, With folemn touches, troubled thoughts; and chase Anguish and doubt and fear and sorrow and pain, From mortal or immortal minds. 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 dazling arms, in guise Of warriors old,with order'd fpear and fhield, Awaiting what command their mighty chief Had to impose: 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 imbodied force, as,nam'd with thefe, 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 shore, When Charlemain,with all his peerage, fell By Fontarabbia. Thus far these beyond Compare of mortal prowess; yet observ'd Their dread Commander: he,above the rest, In fhape and gefture proudly eminent, Stood like a tow'r; his form had yet not 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 risen, Looks, through the horizontal misly air, Shorn of his beams; or from behind the moon, In dim eclipse, 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 scars of thunder had intrench'd, and care Sat on his faded cheek; but under brows
The fellows of his crime, the followers rather,
(Far other once beheld in bliss) condemn'd
For ever now to have their lot in pain; Millions of Spirits for his fault amerc'd
Of Heav'n, and from eternal fplendors flung For his revolt, yet faithful how they flood, Their glory whither'd: as when Heaven's fire Hath fcath'd the forest oaks, or mountain pines, With finged top their stately growth, though bare, Stands on the blafted heath. He now prepar'd 615 To speak; 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 affay'd, and thrice, in spite of scorn, Tears, such as Angels weep, burst forth: at last 620 Words, interwove with fighs, found out their way. O Myriads of immortal Spirits, O Powers, Matchless, but with th' Almighty; and that strife 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 Foreseeing or presaging, from the depth Of knowledge paft or present, could have fear'd, How fuch united force of Gods, how fuch
As flood like these, could ever know repulse?
For who can yet believe, though after loss, That all these puissant legions, whose exile Hath emptied Heav'n, fhall fail to re-ascend, Self-rais'd, and repossess their native seat? For me, be witness all the host of Heaven, If counsels different, or danger shunn'd By me, have lost our hopes. But he who reigns
Monarch in Heav'n, till then as one fecure Sat on his throne; upheld by old repute, Consent 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 close design, by fraud or guile, What force effected not: that he no lefs At length from us may find, who overcomes By force, hath overcome but half his foe.
Space may produce new worlds; whereof so rife 650 There went a fame in Heav'n that he ere long Intended to create, and therein plant A generation, whom his choice regard Should favor equal to the fons of Heaven: Thither, if but to pry, fhall be perhaps Our firft eruption, thither or elsewhere: For this infernal pit shall never hold Celestial Spi rits in bondage, nor th' abyss Long under darkness cover. But these thoughts Full counsel must mature: Peace is despair'd, For who can think submission? War then, War, Open or understood, must be refolv'd.
He spake: 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 high est, and fierce with grasped arms Clash'd on their founding shields the din of war, Hurling defiance tow ard the vault of Heaven:
There ftood a hill not far, whofe grifly top 670 Belch'd fire and rolling smoke; the rest entire Shone with a glossy scurf; undoubted sign That in his womb was hid metallic ore, The work of fulphur. Thither, wing'd with speed, A numerous brigad haften'd: as when bands Of pioneers, with spade and pickax arm'd, Forerun the royal camp, to trench a field, Or caft a rampart. Mammon led them on; Mammon, the leaft erected Spi rit that fell
From Heav'n; for e'en 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 else enjoy'd
In vision beatific: by him first
Men alfo, and by his fuggeftion taught,
Ranfack'd the center; 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 spacious wound,
And digg'd out ribs of gold. Let none admire 690 That riches grow in Hell; that foil may 'beft Deserve the precious bane. And here let those Who boast in mortal things, and wond'ring tell
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