Vi dubia tanto temerè certantibus hofti.

Quis rifum teneat, cum se certamine fortes
Qui jactant, malè si certamen cesserit, horrent
Continuò, & belli quam deftinat alea fortem,
Dedecus, exilium, cruciatus, vincla, dolores
Formidant? Nunc hæc nos fata, hæc certa premit Lex.
Hæc fi nunc faciles patiamur mentibus æquis,
Fors erit ut Victor ferventi fræna furori
Mitior injiciat tandem, tantoque remotos
Nos fpatio nec jam stimulantes ampliùs iram
Negliget, expletus pænis; flammæque feroces
Mollescent, magni nisi foverit ira tyranni.
Noftra etiam ingratos vincet mox aura vapores
Purior, aut longo tandem obdurabitur ufu;
Aut mutata habitum sedique assuetæ malignæ
Excipiet diros lætis amplexibus ignes :
Horror & hic mitefcet, & hæc caliginis umbra
Lucebit: meliora jubet sperare citato

I laugh, when those who at the Spear are bold
And vent'rous, if that fail them, shrink 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 sustain 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 punish'd: whence these raging fires
Will flacken, if his breath stir not their Flames.
Our purer effence then will overcome
Their noxious vapor; or enur'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:
Besides what hope the never-ending flight

Axe volans fine fine dies: jam fortè secundas
Fert fortuna vices; quin dat solatia rerum
Hæc facies; ingrata quidem, fed pessima nondum
Evasit, ni plura datis mala poscimus ultrò.

Sermonem obvolvens pulchro Rationis amictu
Sic lentum Belus torporem inhoneftaque fuafit
Otia fub pacis specie. Dein talia Mammon :
Ut Regem æthereum cœlo exturbemus, atroxve
Quod patimur damnum campo reparemus aperto,
Bellamus, fi bella placent. Illum arce supremâ
Eruere imperii jam tum sperare licebit,
Quum Fortuna levis Fatum immutabile vincet,
Litem ipso dirimente Chao. Sin vana fit inde,
Hinc fuerit Spes vana fimul : quis enim æthere toto
Nos iterum locus accipiat, nifi Rege fubacto

Funditùs æthereo?

---

Sin Illum fingimus iras

Jam demùm exuere, atque ultrò clamare daturum

Communem cunctis veniam, si prisca fateri

Of future days may bring, what chance, what change
Worth waiting, since our present lot appears
For happy, though but ill; for ill, not worst;

If we procure not to our selves more woe.

May hope, when everlasting Fate shall 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

Thus Belial with words cloath'd in Reason's garb Within Heav'n's bound, unless Heav'n's Lord su

Sceptra velint; quo nos coram apparere verentes
Possemus vultu, impositasque agnofcere leges?
Invitos-ne olli cantus laudesque coactas
Nos dabimus? Nobis dominabitur Ille coruscâ
Arce sedens? Nobis facientibus Illius ara
Floribus ambrofiis cumulabitur, ambrosiosque
Submissè his sparsos manibus jactabit odores?
Scilicet is fuerit cœlo labor, illa voluptas!
Heu quàm longa æterna Dies hos inter honores
Inviso oblatos Domino? Quid quærimus ultrà,
Quas reparare armis non fas, quas pace pigeret
Accipere oratâ, medio vel in æthere vanas
Servitii splendentis opes? Bona cuncta petamus
Ex nobis, penitúsque amplexi nostra penes nos
Vivamus læti, jurati in verba tyranni

Nullius: his etiam vastis ridebit in umbris
Candida Libertas, Libertas carior arctis

In rebus, quàm turpis honos aureæque catenæ.
Quin major nobis virtus erit, utile tristi

Strict Laws impos'd, to celebrate his Throne
With warbled Hymns, and to His Godhead fing
Forc'd Hallelujahs; while He lordly fits
Our envy'd Sov'reign, and His Altar breathes
Ambrofial odours, and ambrosial flow'rs,
Our fervile offerings? This must be our task
In Heav'n, this our delight! How wearifome
Eternity so 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 vassalage: but rather feek

Our own good from ourselves, and from our own
Live to ourselves; though in this vast recess,
Free, and to none accountable; preferring
Hard liberty before the easy yoke

Of fervile Pomp. Our greatness will appear
Then moft confpicuous, when great things of small,
Useful of hurtful, prosperous of adverse
We can create; and in what place foe'er

Eli

Elicere; injucunda bonis, adversa secundis
Vertere, & affiduo nifu, quæ nos loca cunque
Excipiant, sævum fati superare furorem.

Et quianam has tenebras atque antra timemus opaca?
Ipse Pater nebulas quondam noctemque profundam
Incolit; ipse sibi folium caligine diâ
Velat, & augustis latet intemerata tenebris
Gloria; nec cessant densas glomerata per umbras
Fulmina rauca boare, imitanti Tartara Cœlo.
Nos quoque, fi libeat, lucem Illius, Ille tenebras
Ut noftras, haud ægrè imitabimur: Hæc neque gazis
Terra caret deferta, auro gemmisque; nec abfunt
Ingenium artificesque manus, unde ardua furgant
Mœnia digna Deis ingentisque æmula cæli.
Forfitan & quondam poterunt nativa videri
Hæc loca; mollescent flammæ, vel noftra furori
Temperies affuefcet & igni illæsa vigebit.

Cuncta monent pacem amplecti, fluctusque dolorum

Thrive under evil, and work ease out of pain,
Through labour, and indurance. This deep world
Of darkness do we dread? How oft amidst
Thick clouds and dark doth Heav'n's all-ruling Sire
Chufe to refide, His glory unobscur'd?
And with the majesty of darkness round
[roar
Covers His Throne; from whence deep thunders
Must'ring their rage, and Heav'n resembles Hell?
As He our darkness, cannot we His light
Imitate when we please? This defert foil

Wants not her hidden lustre, gems, and gold :
Nor want we skill or art, from whence to raise
Magnificence; and what can Heav'n shew more?
Our torments also may in length of time
Become our elements; these piercing Fires
As soft as now fevere, our temper chang'd
Into their temper; which must needs remove
The sensible of pain. All things invite
To peaceful counsels, and the settled state
Of order, how in safety best we may

Sternere, fi liceat; memores quâ fede locamur,
Et quales fumus & fuimus; nec (fi mihi quidquam
Creditis) ulteriùs jactemus inania bella.

Vix ea finierat, fremuit cum murmure tali
Concilium, quale auditur, quum concava Saxa
Ventorum cohibent sonitum, qui nocte frementes
Vexârant fluctus, raucâ jam voce soporem
Inducunt lentum nautis; dum turbine lassum
Prærupto fundata finu tenet anchora lintrem.
Haud alius, finem ut Mammon dedit ore loquendi,
Exortus fremor, & placuit Sententia pacem
Suadentis. Pugnæ alterius certamen Averno
Horrebant gravius: tantis terroribus ictos
Urget adhuc tonitru, & tua turbida tela, Michaal!
Nec minus infernis cupiunt sub sedibus altam
Imperii fundare arcem quæ nixa secundis
Aufpiciis tollat caput, & labentibus annis
Regna fua ætheriis contraria cernere regnis.

Compose our present evils, with regard
Of what we are, and were; dismissing quite
All thoughts of war. Ye have what I advise.

He scarce had finish'd, when fuch murmur fill'd
Th' assembly, as when hollow Rocks retain
The found of blust'ring winds, which all night long
Had rous'd the Sea, now with hoarse cadence lull
Sea-faring men o'erwatch'd, whose Bark by chance,
Or Pinnace, anchors in a craggy Bay

After the tempeft: such applause was heard
As Mammon ended, and his sentence pleas'd,
Advising peace. For fuch another Field
They dreaded worse than Hell: fo much the fear
Of thunder, and the Sword of Michael,
Wrought still within them; and no less defire
To found this nether Empire, which might rife,
By policy, and long process of time,
In emulation opposite to Heav'n.

Quod