Stood like a Towr; his form had yet not loft
All her Original brightness, nor appear'd
Lefs then Arch Angel ruind, and th' excess
Of Glory obfcur'd: As when the Sun new ris'n
Looks through the Horizontal misty Air
Shorn of his Beams, or from behind the Moon
In dim Eclips difaftrous twilight sheds
On half the Nations, and with fear of change
Perplexes Monarchs. Dark'n'd fo, yet fhon
Above them all th' Arch Angel: but his face 600
Deep scars of Thunder had intrencht, and care
Sat on his faded cheek, but under Browes
Of dauntless courage, and confiderate Pride
Waiting revenge: cruel his eye, but caft
Signs of remorse 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 Spirits for his fault amerc't
Of Heav'n, and from Eternal Splendors flung 610
For his revolt, yet faithfull how they stood,
Thir Glory witherd. As when Heavens Fire
Hath fcath'd the Forrest Oaks, or Mountain Pines,
With finged top their stately growth though bare
Stands on the blasted Heath. He now prepar'd
To speak; whereat their doubl'd Ranks they bend
From Wing to Wing, and half enclose him round-
With all his Peers: attention held them mute.
Thrice he affayd, and thrice in spite of scorn, 619
Tears fuch as Angels weep, burst forth at last
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 testifies, and this dire change
Hateful to utter but what power of mind
Foreseeing or presaging, from the Depth
Of knowledge past or present, could have fear'd,
How fuch united force of Gods, how fuch
As stood like these, could ever know repulfe? 630
For who can yet beleeve, though after lofs,
That all these puiffant Legions, whose exile
Hath emptied Heav'n, shall faile to re-ascend
Self-rais'd, and repossess their native seat.
For me, be witness all the Hoft of Heav'n,
If counfels different, or danger shun'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 custome, and his Regal State
Put forth at full, but still 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 warr, provok't; our better part remains
To work in close defign, 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
There went a fame in Heav'n that he ere long
Intended to create, and therein plant
A generation, whom his choice regard
Should favour equal to the Sons of Heaven :
Thither, if but to prie, fhall be perhaps
Our first eruption, thither or elsewhere:
For this Infernal Pit shall never hold
Cæleftial Spirits in Bondage, nor th' Abyffe
Long under darkness cover.
But these thoughts
Full Counsel must mature: Peace is defpaird, 660
For who can think Submiffion? Warr then, Warr
Open or understood must be refolv'd.
He fpake and to confirm his words, out-flew
Millions of flaming swords, 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 grasped arms
Clash'd on their founding shields the din of war,
Hurling defiance toward the vault of Heav'n.
There stood a Hill not far whose griefly top 670 Belch'd fire and rowling fmoak; the rest entire Shon with a gloffie fcurff, undoubted fign That in his womb was hid metallic Ore, The work of Sulphur. Thither wing'd with speed A numerous Brigad haften'd. As when bands Of Pioners with Spade and Pickaxe arm'd Forerun the Royal Camp, to trench a Field, Or caft a Rampart. Mammon led them on, Mammon, the least erected Spirit that fell From heav'n, for ev'n in heav'n his looks & thoughts Were always downward bent, admiring more 681 The riches of Heav'ns pavement, trod'n Gold, Then aught divine or holy elfe enjoy'd
In vifion beatific: by him first
Men alfo, and by his fuggeftion taught,
Ranfack'd the Center, and with impious hands
Rifl'd the bowels of thir mother Earth
For Treasures better hid. Soon had his crew
Op'nd into the Hill a spacious wound
And dig'd out ribs of Gold. Let none admire 690
That riches grow in Hell; that foyle may best
Deserve the pretious bane. And here let those
Who boast in mortal things, and wondring tell
Of Babel, and the works of Memphian Kings,
Learn how thir greatest Monuments of Fame,
And Strength and Art are easily outdone
By Spirits reprobate, and in an hour
What in an age they with inceffant toyle
And hands innumerable scarce perform.
Nigh on the Plain in many cells prepar'd,
That underneath had veins of liquid fire
Sluc'd from the Lake, a second multitude
With wondrous Art founded the maffie Ore,
Severing each kinde, and fcum'd the Bullion drofs:
A third as foon had form'd within the ground
A various mould, and from the boyling cells
By strange conveyance fill'd each hollow nook,
As in an Organ from one blaft of wind
To many a row of Pipes the found-board breaths.
A non out of the earth a Fabrick huge
Rofe like an Exhalation, with the found
Of Dulcet Symphonies and voices sweet,
Built like a Temple, where Pilafters round
Were fet, and Doric pillars overlaid
With Golden Architrave; nor did there want
Cornice or Freeze, with boffy Sculptures grav'n,
The Roof was fretted Gold. Not Babilon,
Nor great Alcairo fuch magnificence
Equal'd in all thir glories, to inshrine
Belus or Serapis thir Gods, or feat
Thir Kings, when Egypt with Affyria ftrove
In wealth and luxurie. Th' afcending pile
Stood fixt her stately highth, and strait the dores
Op'ning thir brazen foulds difcover wide
Within, her ample spaces, o're the smooth
And level pavement: from the arched roof
Pendant by futtle Magic many a row
Of Starry Lamps and blazing Creffets fed
With Naphtha and Afphaltus yeilded light
As from a fky. The hafty multitude
Admiring enter'd, and the work some praise
And fome the Architect: his hand was known
In Heav'n by many a Towred structure high,
Where Scepter'd Angels held thir refidence,
And fat as Princes, whom the fupreme King
Exalted to fuch
power, and gave to rule,
Each in his Herarchie, 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 fabl'd, thrown by angry Jove
Sheer o're the Chrystal Battlements: from Morn
To Noon he fell, from Noon to dewy Eve,
A Summers day; and with the setting Sun
Dropt from the Zenith like a falling Star,
On Lemnos th' Egaan Ile: thus they relate,
Erring; for he with this rebellious rout
Fell long before; nor aught avail'd him now
To have built in Heav'n high Towrs; nor did he
By all his Engins, but was headlong fent [scape
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