Then, both ourselves and seed at once to free
From what we fear for both, let us make short, 1000
Let us seek Death, or, he not found, supply
With our own hands his office on ourselves.
Why stand we longer shivering under fears,
That shew no end but death, and have the power,
Of many ways to die the shortest choosing,
Destruction with destruction to destroy?

She ended here, or vehement despair

Broke off the rest; so much of death her thoughts
Had entertained as dyed her cheeks with pale.
But Adam, with such counsel nothing swayed, 1010
To better hopes his more attentive mind

Labouring had raised, and thus to Eve replied:

66

1020

Eve, thy contempt of life and pleasure seems To argue in thee something more sublime And excellent than what thy mind contemns; But self-destruction therefore sought refutes That excellence thought in thee, and implies Not thy contempt, but anguish and regret For loss of life and pleasure overloved. Or if thou covet death, as utmost end Of misery, so thinking to evade The penalty pronounced, doubt not but God Hath wiselier armed his vengeful ire than so To be forestalled; much more I fear lest death, So snatched, will not exempt us from the pain We are by doom to pay; rather such acts Of contumacy will provoke the Highest To make death in us live. Then let us seek Some safer resolution, which methinks I have in view, calling to mind with heed Part of our sentence, that thy seed shall bruise The Serpent's head: piteous amends! unless

1030

1040

Be meant, whom I conjecture, our grand foe,
Satan, who in the serpent hath contrived
Against us this deceit. To crush his head
Would be revenge indeed; which will be lost
By death brought on ourselves, or childless days
Resolved as thou proposest; so our foe
Shall scape his punishment ordained, and we
Instead shall double ours upon our heads.
No more be mentioned then of violence
Against ourselves, and wilful barrenness,
That cuts us off from hope, and savours only
Rancour and pride, impatience and despite,
Reluctance against God and his just yoke
Laid on our necks. Remember with what mild
And gracious temper he both heard and judged,
Without wrath or reviling. We expected
Immediate dissolution, which we thought
Was meant by death that day; when lo! to thee
Pains only in child-bearing were foretold,
And bringing forth, soon recompensed with joy,
Fruit of thy womb; on me the curse aslope
Glanced on the ground.

My bread; what harm?

1051

With labour I must earn
Idleness had been worse.

My labour will sustain me; and, lest cold
Or heat should injure us, his timely care
Hath unbesought provided, and his hands
Clothed us unworthy, pitying while he judged.
How much more, if we pray him, will his ear 1060
Be open, and his heart to pity incline,

And teach us further by what means to shun
The inclement seasons, rain, ice, hail, and snow!
Which now the sky, with various face, begins
To shew us in this mountain, while the winds
Blow moist and keen, shattering the graceful locks

Of these fair spreading trees; which bids us seek Some better shroud, some better warmth, to cherish Our limbs benumbed, ere this diurnal star

Leave cold the night; how we his gathered beams Reflected may with matter sere foment,

Or by collision of two bodies grind

The air attrite to fire; as late the clouds,

1071

Justling, or pushed with winds, rude in their shock, Tine the slant lightning, whose thwart flame driven down

Kindles the gummy bark of fir or pine,
And sends a comfortable heat from far,
Which might supply the sun. Such fire to use,
And what may else be remedy or cure

To evils which our own misdeeds have wrought,
He will instruct us praying, and of grace
Beseeching him; so as we need not fear
To pass commodiously this life, sustained
By him with many comforts, till we end
In dust, our final rest and native home.
What better can we do, than to the place
Repairing where he judged us, prostrate fall
Before him reverent, and there confess

1081

Humbly our faults, and pardon beg, with tears
Watering the ground, and with our sighs the air
Frequenting, sent from hearts contrite, in sign 1091
Of sorrow unfeigned, and humiliation meek?
Undoubtedly he will relent, and turn
From his displeasure, in whose look, serene,
When angry most he seemed and most severe,
What else but favour, grace, and mercy shone?"
So spake our father penitent, nor Eve
Felt less remorse. They forthwith, to the place
Repairing where he judged them, prostrate fell

Before him reverent, and both confessed

1100

Humbly, their faults and pardon begged, with tears
Watering the ground, and with their sighs the air
Frequenting, sent from hearts contrite, in sign
Of sorrow unfeigned, and humiliation meek.

PARADISE LOST.

BOOK XI.

THE ARGUMENT.

THE Son of God presents to his Father the prayers of our first parents now repenting, and intercedes for them. God accepts them, but declares that they must no longer abide in Paradise: sends Michael with a band of Cherubim to dispossess them; but first to reveal to Adam future things: Michael's coming down. Adam shews to Eve certain ominous signs; he discerns Michael's approach; goes out to meet him; the Angel denounces their departure. Eve's lamentation. Adam pleads, but submits: The Angel leads him up to a high hill; sets before him in vision what shall happen till the Flood."

HUS they in lowliest plight repentant

stood,

Praying; for from the mercy-seat above Prevenient grace descending had removed The stony from their hearts, and made new flesh Regenerate grow instead, that sighs now breathed Unutterable, which the Spirit of prayer

Inspired, and winged for Heaven with speedier flight Than loudest oratory. Yet their port

Not of mean suitors, nor important less

Seemed their petition, than when the ancient pair,