Say first, for Heav'n hides nothing from thy view,
Nor the deep tract of Hell, say first what caufe
Mov'd our grand parents, in that happy state,
Favor'd of Heav'n so highly, to fall off
From their creator, and transgress his will
For one restraint, lords of the world betides?
Who first feduc'd them to that foul revolt?
Th' infernal Serpent! he it was, whose guile,
Stirr'd up with envy and revenge, deceiv'd
The mother of mankind, what time his pride
Had cast him out from Heav'n, with all his host
Of rebel Angels, by whose aid afpiring
To fet himself in glory above his peers,
He trusted to have equal'd the most High,
If he oppos'd; and with ambitious aim
Against the throne and monarchy of God
Rais'd impious war in Heav'n and battel proud
With vain attempt. Him the almighty Power
Hurl'd headlong flaming from th' ethereal sky,
With hideous ruin and combuftion, down
To bottomless perdition, there to dwell
In adamantin chains and penal fire,
Who durft defie th' Omnipotent to arms.
Nine rimes the space that measures day and night 50
To mortal men, with his horrid crew
Lay vanquish'd, rolling in the fiery gulf, Confounded though immortal: But his doom Referv'd him to more wrath, for now the thought
Both of loft happiness and lasting pain
Torments him; round he throws his baleful eyes,
That witness'd huge affliction and dismay,
Mix'd with obdurate pride and stedfast hate:
At once, as far as angels ken, he views
The dismal fituation wafte and wild;
A dungeon horrible, on all fides round
As one great furnace flam'd, yet from those flames
No light, but rather darkness visible
Serv'd only to discover fights of woe;
Regions of forrow, doleful shades, where peace
And rest can never dwell; hope never comes
That comes to all; but torture without end.
Still urges, and a fiery deluge, fed
With ever-burning fulphur unconfum'd:
Such place eternal Justice had prepar'd
For those rebellious; here their prifon ordain'd,
In utter darkness, and their portion fet
As far remov'd from God and light of Heav'n,
As from the centre thrice to th' utmost pole.
O how unlike the place from whence they fell!
There the companions of his fall, o'erwhelm'd
With floods and whirlwinds of tempestuous fire,
He foon difcerns; and welt'ring by his fide
One next himself in pow'r, and next in crime,
Long after known in Palestine, and nam'd
Beëlzebub. To whom th' Arch-enemy,
And thence in Heav'n call'd Satan, with bold words Breaking the horrid filence thus began.
If thou beeft He; But how fall'n! how chang'd From him, who in the happy realms of light Cloth'd with transcendent brightness didft out-shine Myriads tho' bright! If he whom mutual league, United thoughts and counsels, equal hope And hazard in the glorious enterprise, Join'd with me once, now misery hath join'd
In equal ruin! Into what pit thou seest
From what height fall'n, fo much the stronger prov'd
He with his thunder: and till then who knew
The force of those dire arms? Yet not for those,
Nor what the potent victor in his rage
Can else inflict, do I repent or change,
Though chang'd in outward luftre, that fix'd mind
And high disdain from sense of injur'd merit,
That with the Mightiest rais'd me to contend,
And to the fierce contention brought along
Innumerable force of spirits arm'd,
That durfst dislike his reign, and me preferring,
His utmost pow'r with adverse pow'r oppos'd
In dubious battel on the plains of Heav'n,
And fhook his throne. What tho' the field be lost? 105
All is not loft; th' unconquerable will,
And study of revenge, immortal hate,
And courage never to submit or yield,
And what is else not to be overcome;
That glory never shall his wrath or might
Extort from me. To bow and fue for grace
With fuppliant knee, and deify his pow'r,
Who from the terror of this arm so late
Doubted his empire; that were low indeed,
That were an ignominy and shame beneath
This downfall; since by fate the strength of Gods
And this empyreal substance cannot fail,
Since through experience of this great event
In arms not worse, in forefight much advanc'd,
We may with more fuccessful hope refolve
To wage by force or guile eternal war,
Irreconcileable to our grand foe,
Who now triumphs, and in th'excess of joy
Sole reigning holds the tyranny of heaven.
So spake th' apostate Angel, though in pain, 125 Vaunting aloud, but rack'd with deep despair: And him thus answer'd foon his bold compeer. O Prince, O chief of many throned Powers,
That led the imbattel'd Seraphim to war
Under thy conduct, and in dreadful deeds
Fearless, endanger'd Heav'n's perpetual king,
And put to proof his high fupremacy,
Whether upheld by strength, or chance, or fate;
Too well I fee and rue the dire event,
That with fad overthrow and foul defeat
Hath loft us Heav'n, and all this mighty hoft
Though all our glory extinct, and happy state
Here swallow'd up in endless misery.
But what if he our conqu'ror, whom I now
Of force believe almighty, since no less
Than fuch could have o'er-pow'r'd such force as ours,
Have left us this our spirit and strength entire
Strongly to fuffer and support our pains,
That we may so suffice his vengeful ire,
Or do him mightier service as his thralls
By right of war, whate'er his business be,
Here in the heart of Hell to work in fire,
Or do his errands in the gloomy deep;
What can it then avail, though yet we feel
Strength undiminish'd, or eternal being
To undergo eternal punishment?
Whereto with speedy words th' Arch-fiend reply'd.
Fall'n Cherub, to be weak is miferable
Doing or fuffering: but of this be fure,
To do ought good never will be our task,
But ever to do ill our fole delight,
As being the contrary to his high will
Whom we refift. If then his providence
Out of our evil seek to bring forth good,
Our labour must be to pervert that end,
And out of good still to find means of evil;
Which oft-times may fucceed, fo as perhaps
Shall grieve him, if I fail not, and disturb
His inmoft counsels from their destin'd aim.
But fee! the angry victor hath recall'd
His minifters of vengeance and perfuit
Back to the gates of Heav'n: the fulphurous hail
Shot after us in storm, o'er-blown hath laid,
The fiery furge, that from the precipice
Of Heav'n receiv'd us falling; and the thunder,
Wing'd with red lightning and impetuous rage,
Perhaps hath spent his shafts, and ceases now
To bellow through the vast and boundless deep.
Let us not flip th' occafion, whether scorn,
Or fatiate fury yield it from our foe.
Seest thou yon dreary plain, forlorn and wild,
The feat of defolation, void of light,
Save what the glimmering of these livid flames
Casts pale and dreadful? Thither let us tend
From off the tossing of these fiery waves,
There reft, if any rest can harbour there,
And re-affembling our afflicted Powers,
Confult how we may henceforth most offend
Our enemy, our own lofs how repair,
How overcome this dire calamity,
What reinforcement we may gain from hope,
If not what resolution from despair.
Thus Satan talking to his nearest mate With head up-lift above the wave, and eyes That sparkling blaz'd, his other parts betides Prone on the flood, extended long and large Lay 'floating many a rood: in bulk as huge As whom the fables name of monstrous fize, Titanian, or Earth-born, that warr'd on Jove, Briareus or Typhon, whom the den By ancient Tarfus held, or that fea-beaft Leviathan, which God of all his works Created hugeft that swim th' ocean stream: Him haply flamb'ring on the Norway foam The pilot of fome small night-founder'd skiff Deeming fome island, oft, as fea-men tell, With fixed anchor in his scaly rind Moors by his fide under the lee, while night Invest the fea, and wished morn delays: So stretch'd out huge, in length the Arch-fiend lay, Chain'd on the burning lake, nor ever thence Had ris'n or heav'd his head, but that the will And high permiffion of all-ruling Heaven Left him at large to his own dark defigns, That with reiterated crimes he might Heap on himself damnation, while he fought Evil to others, and enrag'd might fee
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