That dismal world, if any clime perhaps Might yield them easier habitation, bend Four ways their flying march, along the banks Of four infernal rivers, that disgorge Into the burning lake their baleful streams; Abhorred Styx, the flood of deadly hate; Sad Acheron of sorrow, black and deep; Cocytus, named of lamentation loud
Heard on the rueful stream; fierce Phlegethon,
Whose waves of torrent fire inflame with rage. Far off from these a slow and silent stream, Lethe, the river of oblivion, rolls Her wat❜ry labyrinth; whereof who drinks, Forthwith his former state and being forgets, Forgets both joy and grief, pleasure and pain. Beyond this flood a frozen continent Lies dark and wild, beat with perpetual storms Of whirlwind and dire hail, which on firm land Thaws not, but gathers heap, and ruin seems Of ancient pile; all else deep snow and ice A gulf profound as that Serbonian bog Betwixt Damiata and Mount Casius old,
Where armies whole have sunk: the parching air
Burns frore, and cold performs th' effect of fire.
Thither, by harpy-footed furies haled,
At certain revolutions, all the damn'd
Are brought; and feel by turns the bitter change
Of fierce extremes, extremes by change more fierce,
From beds of raging fire to starve in ice
Their soft ethereal warmth, and there to pine
Immoveable, infix'd, and frozen round,
Periods of time, thence hurried back to fire. They ferry over this Lethean sound
Both to and fro, their sorrow to augment,
And wish and struggle, as they pass, to reach
The tempting stream, with one small drop to lose In sweet forgetfulness all pain and woe,
All in one moment, and so near the brink;
But Fate withstands, and to oppose th' attempt Medusa with Gorgonian terror guards
The ford, and of itself the water flies
No rest. Through many a dark and dreary vale They pass'd, and many a region dolorous,
O'er many a frozen, many a fiery Alp,
Rocks, caves, lakes, fens, bogs, dens, and shades of death,
A universe of death, which God by curse
Created evil, for evil only good,
Where all life dies, death lives, and nature breeds,
Perverse, all monstrous, all prodigious things, Abominable, inutterable, and worse
Than fables yet have feign'd, or fear conceived, Gorgons and Hydras, and Chimæras dire.
Meanwhile the adversary of God and Man, Satan, with thoughts inflamed of high'st design,
Puts on swift wings, and tow'rds the gates of Hell Explores his solitary flight. Sometimes
He scours the right hand coast, sometimes the left,
Now shaves with level wing the deep, then soars Up to the fiery concave tow'ring high.
As when far off at sea a fleet descry'd
Hangs in the clouds, by equinoctial winds
Close sailing from Bengala, or the isles
Of Ternate and Tidore, whence merchants bring Their spicy drugs; they on the trading flood Through the wide Ethiopian to the Cape
Ply stemming nightly tow'rd the pole. Far off the flying Fiend: at last appear
Hell bounds, high reaching to the horrid roof,
And thrice threefold the gates; three folds were brass,
Three iron, three of adamantine rock, Impenetrable, impaled with circling fire, Yet unconsumed. Before the gates there sat On either side a formidable shape;
The one seem'd woman to the waist, and fair, But ended foul in many a scaly fold Voluminous and vast, a serpent arm'd
With mortal sting: about her middle round
A cry of Hell-hounds never ceasing, bark'd With wide Cerberean mouths full loud, and rung A hideous peal: yet, when they list, would creep, If aught disturb'd their noise, into her womb, And kennel there, yet there still bark'd and howl'd, Within unseen. Far less abhorr'd than these Vex'd Scylla, bathing in the sea that parts Calabria from the hoarse Trinacrian shore; Nor uglier follow the night-hag, when call'd In secret, riding through the air she comes, Lured with the smell of infant blood, to dance With Lapland witches, while the lab'ring moon Eclipses at their charms. The other shape, If shape it might be call'd that shape had none Distinguishable in member, joint, or limb, Or substance might be call'd that shadow seem'd, For each seem'd either; black it stood as Night, Fierce as ten Furies, terrible as Hell,
And shook a dreadful dart. What seem'd his head
The likeness of a kingly crown had on.
Satan was now at hand, and from his seat, The monster moving onward, came as fast With horrid strides, Hell trembled as he strode. Th' undaunted Fiend what this might be admired Admired, not fear'd: God and his Son except, Created thing nought valued he nor shunn'd; And with disdainful look thus first began:
Whence and what art thou, execrable shape, That darest, though grim and terrible, advance
Thy miscreated front athwart my way
To yonder gates? Through them I mean to pass, That be assured, without leave ask'd of thee: Retire or taste thy folly, and learn by proof, Hell-born, not to contend with Spirits of Heav'n. To whom the goblin full of wrath reply'd, Art thou that traitor Angel, art thou He,
Who first broke peace in Heav'n and faith, till then Unbroken, and in proud rebellious arms Drew after him the third part of Heav'n's sons, Conjúred against the High'st, for which both thou And they, outcast from God, are here condemn'd To waste eternal days in woe and pain? And reckon'st thou thyself with Spirits of Heav'n, Hell-doom'd, and breath'st defiance here and scorn Where I reign king, and to enrage thee more, Thy king and lord? Back to thy punishment, False fugitive, and to thy speed add wings,
Lest with a whip of scorpions I pursue
Thy ling'ring, or with one stroke of this dart
Strange horror seize thee, and pangs unfelt before. So spake the grisly terror, and in shape,
So speaking, and so threat'ning, grew tenfold
More dreadful and deform. On th' other side,
Incensed with indignation, Satan stood Unterrify'd, and like a comet burn'd, That fires the length of Ophiuchus huge In th' arctic sky, and from his horrid hair Shakes pestilence and war. Each at the head Levell❜d his deadly aim; their fatal hands No second stroke intend, and such a frown Each cast at th' other, as when two black clouds, With Heav'n's artill'ry fraught, come rattling on Over the Caspian; then stand front to front Hov'ring a space, till winds the signal blow To join their dark encounter in mid-air. So frown'd the mighty combatants, that Hell
Grew darker at their frown, so match'd they stood: For never but once more was either like
To meet so great a foe: and now great deeds Had been achieved, whereof all Hell had rung, Had not the snaky sorceress that sat Fast by Hell gate, and kept the fatal key, Ris'n, and with hideous outcry rush'd between. O Father, what intends thy hand, she cry'd, Against thy only Son? What fury, O Son, Possesses thee to bend that mortal dart Against thy Father's head? and know'st for whom? For Him who sits above and laughs the while At thee ordain'd his drudge, to execute Whate'er his wrath, which he calls justice, bids: His wrath, which one day will destroy ye both. She spake, and at her words the hellish pest Forbore; then these to her Satan return'd.
So strange thy outcry, and thy words so strange
Thou interposest, that my sudden hand
Prevented, spares to tell thee yet by deeds
What it intends, till first I know of thee,
What thing thou art, thus double-form'd, and why In this infernal vale first met thou call'st
Me Father, and that phantasm call'st my
I know thee not, nor ever saw till now Sight more detestable than him and thee.
T'whom thus the portress of Hell gate reply'd:
Hast thou forgot me then, and do I seem
Now in thine eyes so foul? once deem'd so fair
In Heav'n, when at th' assembly, and in sight Of all the Seraphim with thee combined In bold conspiracy against Heav'n's King, All on a sudden miserable pain
Surprised thee, dim thine eyes, and dizzy swum In darkness, while thy head flames thick and fast Threw forth, till on the left side op'ning wide, Likest to thee in shape and count'nance bright,
« PreviousContinue » |