What, if the breath, that kindled those grim fires, Awaked, should blow them into sevenfold rage, And plunge us in the flames? or from above Should intermitted vengeance arm again His red right hand to plague us? what, if all Her stores were open'd, and this firmament Of hell should spout her cataracts of fire, Impendent horrours, threatening hideous fall One day upon our heads? while we, perhaps Designing or exhorting glorious war, Caught in a fiery tempest, shall be hurl'd Each on his rock transfix'd, the sport and prey Of racking whirlwinds; or for ever sunk Under yon boiling ocean, wrapp'd in chains: There to converse with everlasting groans, Unrespited, unpitied, unreprieved,
Ages of hopeless end? this would be worse. War therefore, open or conceal'd, alike
My voice dissuades; for what can force or guile
With him, or who deceive his mind, whose eye
Views all things at one view? He from heaven's highth 190 All these our motions vain sees and derides;
Not more almighty to resist our might,
Than wise to frustrate all our plots and wiles.
Shall we then live thus vile, the race of heaven,
Thus trampled, thus expell'd, to suffer here
Chains and these torments? better these than worse, By my advice; since fate inevitable
Subdues us, and omnipotent decree,
The Victor's will. To suffer, as to do, Our strength is equal; nor the law unjust That so ordains. This was at first resolved, If we were wise, against so great a Foe Contending, and so doubtful what might fall. I laugh, when those, who at the spear are bold And venturous, if that fail them, shrink and fear What yet they know must follow, to endure Exile, or ignominy, or bonds, or pain,
The sentence of their Conquerour. This is now
Our doom; which if we can sustain and bear, Our Supreme Foe in time may much remit His anger; and perhaps thus far removed Not mind us not offending, satisfied
With what is punish'd: whence these raging fires Will slacken, if his breath stir not their flames. Our purer essence then will overcome Their noxious vapour; or, inured, not feel; Or changed at length, and to the place conform'd In temper and in nature, will receive Familiar the fierce heat, and void of pain;
170. What, if the breath. Isa. xxx. 33. 191. Derides. Ps. ii. 4.
210. Supreme. Accent on the first eyi lable.
This horrour will grow mild, this darkness light: Besides, what hope the never-ending flight
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 ourselves more woe.
Thus Belial, with words clothed in reason's garb, Counsell'd ignoble ease and peaceful sloth, Not peace: and after him thus Mammon spake:- Either to disinthrone the King of Heaven We war, if war be best; or to regain
Our own right lost. Him to unthrone we then May hope, when everlasting Fate shall yield To fickle Chance, and Chaos judge the strife: The former, vain to hope, argues as vain The latter: for what place can be for us
Within heaven's bound, unless heaven's Lord supreme We overpower? Suppose he should relent And publish grace to all, on promise made Of new subjection; with what eyes could we Stand in his presence humble, and receive Strict laws imposed, to celebrate his throne With warbled hymns, and to his Godhead sing Forced halleluiahs; while he lordly sits Our envied Sovran, and his altar breathes Ambrosial odours and ambrosial flowers, Our servile offerings? This must be our task In heaven, this our delight: how wearisome Eternity so spent in worship paid
To whom we hate! Let us not then pursue, By force impossible, by leave obtain❜à Unacceptable, though in heaven, our state
Of splendid vassalage: but rather seek
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 servile pomp. Our greatness will appear
Then most conspicuous, when great things of small, Useful of hurtful, prosperous of adverse,
We can create; and in what place soe'er
Thrive under evil, and work ease out of pain
Through labour and endurance. This deep world Of darkness do we dread? how oft amidst
Thick clouds and dark doth heaven's all-ruling Sire Choose to reside, his glory unobscured, And with the majesty of darkness round Covers his throne; from whence deep thunders roar
220. Light. This is an adjective here, in the sense of easy.
233. Judge the strife. That is, between the King of Heaven and Us. The former,
to unthrone the King of Heaven: the latter, to regain our own right lost.
263. How oft, &c. Ps. xviii. 11, 13, and xcvii. 2.
Mustering their rage, and heaven resembles hell As he our darkness, cannot we his light Imitate when we please? this desert soil Wants not her hidden lustre, gems and gold; Nor want we skill or art, from whence to raise Magnificence; and what can heaven show more? Our torments also may in length of time Become our elements; these piercing fires As soft as now severe; our temper changed 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 Compose our present evils, with regard Of what we are, and where; dismissing quite All thoughts of war.
He scarce had finish'd, when such murmur fill'd The assembly, as when hollow rocks retain
The sound of blustering winds, which all night long Had roused 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 tempest: such applause was heard As Mammon ended; and his sentence pleased, Advising peace: for such another field
They dreaded worse than hell: so much the fear
Of thunder and the sword of Michaël
Wrought still within them: and no less desire
To found this nether empire; which might rise, By policy and long process of time, In emulation opposite to heaven.
Which when Beelzebub perceived, than whom, Satan except, none higher sat, with grave Aspéct he rose, and in his rising seem'd
A pillar of state: deep on his front engraven Deliberation sat and public care;
And princely counsel in his face yet shone, Majestic though in ruin: sage he stood, With Atlantean shoulders fit to bear
The weight of mightiest monarchies: his look Drew audience and attention still as night
Or summer's noon-tide air, while thus he spake:- Thrones and Imperial Powers, Offspring of heaven, Ethereal Virtues; or these titles now
Must we renounce, and, changing style, be call'd Princes of hell? for so the popular vote Inclines, here to continue, and build up here A growing empire; doubtless while we dream,
315. Doubtless, dc.: that is, while we dream undisturbed by any doubt, that God will permit us to build up here such
an empire as we desire; and know not, that is, are unconscious that he designs this place as our dungeon, &c.
And know not that the King of Heaven hath doom'd This place our dungeon, not our safe retreat Beyond his potent arm, to live exempt
From heaven's high jurisdiction, in new league Banded against his throne; but to remain
In strictest bondage, though thus far removed, Under the inevitable curb, reserved
His captive multitude: for he, be sure,
In highth or depth, still first and last will reign Sole king, and of his kingdom lose no part By our revolt; but over hell extend
His empire, and with iron sceptre rule
Us here, as with his golden those in heaven.
What sit we then projecting peace and war?
War hath determined us, and foil'd with loss Irreparable; terms of peace yet none
Vouchsafed or sought: for what peace will be given To us enslaved, but custody severe,
And stripes, and arbitrary punishment Inflicted? and what peace can we return, But to our power hostility and hate,
Untamed reluctance, and revenge, though slow,
Yet ever plotting how the Conquerour least
May reap his conquest, and may least rejoice
In doing what we most in suffering feel?
Nor will occasion want, nor shall we need
With dangerous expedition to invade
Heaven, whose high walls fear no assault, or siege,
Or ambush from the deep. What if we find
Some easier enterprize? There is a place, (If ancient and prophetic fame in heaven
Err not) another world, the happy seat
Of some new race call'd Man, about this time To be created like to us, though less
In power and excellence; but favour'd more
Of him who rules above: so was his will
Pronounced among the gods, and by an oath,
That shook heaven's whole circumference, confirm'd. Thither let us bend all our thoughts, to learn What creatures there inhabit; of what mould, Or substance; how endued, and what their power And where their weakness; how attempted best, By force or subtlety. Though heaven be shut, And heaven's high Arbitrator sit secure
In his own strength, this place may lie exposed, The utmost border of his kingdom, left,
To their defence who hold it: here perhaps Some advantageous act may be achieved By sudden onset; either with hell fire To waste his whole creation, or possess
All as our own, and drive, as we were driven,
The puny habitants; or if not drive, Seduce them to our party, that their God May prove their foe, and with repenting hand Abolish his own works. This would surpass Common revenge, and interrupt his joy In our confusion; and our joy upraise In his disturbance: when his darling sons,
Hurl'd headlong to partake with us, shall curse Their frail original and faded bliss,
Faded so soon. Advise, if this be worth Attempting; or to sit in darkness here Hatching vain empires.-Thus Beëlzebub Pleaded his devilish counsel, first devised By Satan, and in part proposed. For whence, But from the authour of all ill, could spring So deep a malice, to confound the race Of mankind in one root, and earth with hell To mingle and involve, done all to spite
The great Creator? But their spite still serves His glory to augment. The bold design Pleased highly those infernal States, and joy Sparkled in all their eyes; with full assent They vote: whereat his speech he thus renews:- Well have ye judged, well ended long debate, Synod of gods! and, like to what ye are,
Great things resolved; which from the lowest deep Will once more lift us up, in spite of fate,
Nearer our ancient seat; perhaps in view
Of those bright confines, whence, with neighbouring arms 395 And opportune excursion, we may chance Re-enter heaven; or else in some mild zone Dwell, not unvisited of heaven's fair light,
Secure; and at the brightening orient beam Purge off this gloom: the soft delicious air, To heal the scar of these corrosive fires,
Shall breathe her balm. But, first, whom shall we send In search of this new world? whom shall we find Sufficient? who shall tempt with wandering feet
The dark unbottom'd infinite abyss,
And through the palpable obscure find out His uncouth way? or spread his aery flight,
Upborne with undefatigable wings,
Over the vast abrupt, ere he arrive
vast ABRUPT. Again, we sometimes find two nouns together, the former of which is used as an adjective, as the ocean stream, i. 202; and bullion dross, i. 704 Milton often enriches his language in this manner.-NEWTON.
367. Puny. As Milton so often used tive used as a noun; so in line 409, the words in their original sense, he probably uses this for puisne or puisny, from the French puis ne, that is, post natus, "born afterwards," consequently, "junior," "younger," and hence implying also "inferior." In this sense Bishop Hall, a contemporary, used the word: "The first antiquity is true; the puisne, posthumous antiquity hath been a refuge for falsehood."
406. The palpable OBSCURE. An adjec
409. Ere he arrive. Shakspeare in two or three places uses the verb arrive without the preposition at, following; as, But ere we could arrive the point proposed. Jul. Cæsar, Act I. Sc. ii.
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