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To dispossess him, and thyself to reign
But mark what I arreed thee now, avaunt;
Fly thither whence thou fledst: if from this hour
Within these hallow'd limits thou appear,
Back to th' infernal pit I drag thee chain'd,
And seal thee so, as henceforth not to scorn
The facil gates of hell too slightly barr'd.

So threaten'd he: but Satan to no threats
Gave heed, but waxing more in rage reply'd.
Then when I am thy captive talk of chains,
Proud limitary Cherub; but ere then
Far heavier load thy self expect to feel

From my prevailing arm; though heaven's King
Ride on thy wings, and thou with thy compeers,
Us'd to the yoke, draw'st his triumphant wheels 975
In progress through the road of heav'n star-pav'd.

While thus he spake, th' angelic squadron bright Turn'd fiery red, sharp'ning in mooned horns Their phalanx, and began to hem him round With ported spears, as thick as when a field Of Ceres, ripe for harvest, waving bends Her bearded grove of ears, which way the wind Sways them; the careful plowman doubting stands,

962 arreed] See Lisle's Dubartas, p. 173.

'Arreed in books of heaven the summe.'

966 And seal] See Northmore's note to Tryphiodorus, p. 88.

976 star-pav'd] Ashmore's Epigrams, 4to. p. 33.

'The casements large of Heaven have open set,

And from their star-pav'd floors have sent me down.'






Lest on the threshing floor his hopeful sheaves
Prove chaff. On th' other side Satan alarm'd,
Collecting all his might, dilated stood,
Like Teneriff or Atlas unremoved:

His stature reach'd the sky, and on his crest
Sat horror plum'd; nor wanted in his grasp
What seem❜d both spear and shield. Now dreadful

Might have ensu'd, nor only paradise

In this commotion, but the starry cope
Of heav'n perhaps, or all the elements
At least had gone to wrack, disturb'd and torn
With violence of this conflict, had not soon
Th' Eternal to prevent such horrid fray
Hung forth in heav'n his golden scales, yet seen
Betwixt Astrea and the Scorpion sign,
Wherein all things created first he weigh'd,



Neither our own but giv'n; what folly then
To boast what arms can do, since thine no more


The pendulous round earth with balanc'd air
In counterpoise; now ponders all events,
Battels, and realms: in these he put two weights,
The sequel each of parting and of fight;
The latter quick up flew and kick'd the beam:
Which Gabriel spying thus bespake the fiend.


Satan, I know thy strength, and thou know'st mine:


1008 thine] 'Thine' and 'mine' refer to strength, ver. 1006. not to arms. Newton.

Than heav'n permits, nor mine, though doubled now To trample thee as mire? for proof look up, 1010 And read thy lot in yon celestial sign,

Where thou art weigh'd, and shown how light, how weak,

If thou resist. The fiend look'd up, and knew
His mounted scale aloft: nor more; but fled
Murmuring, and with him fled the shades of night.




MORNING approached, Eve relates to Adam her troublesome dream; he likes it not, yet comforts her: they come forth to their day-labours: their morning hymn at the door of their bower. God, to render man inexcusable, sends Raphael to admonish him of his obedience, of his free estate, of his enemy near at hand, who he is, and why his enemy, and whatever else may avail Adam to know. Raphael comes down to paradise; his appearance described, his coming discerned by Adam afar off, sitting at the door of his bower; he goes out to meet him, brings him to his lodge, entertains him with the choicest fruits of paradise got together by Eve; their discourse at table: Raphael performs his message, minds Adam of his state, and of his enemy; relates, at Adam's request, who that enemy is, and how he came to be so, beginning from his first revolt in heaven, and the occasion thereof; how he drew his legions after him to the parts of the north, and there incited them to rebel with him; persuading all but only Abdiel a seraph, who in argument dissuades and opposes him, then forsakes him.

Now morn, her rosy steps in th' eastern clime Advancing, sow'd the earth with orient pearl,

1 rosy steps] Quintus Smyrnæus applies the epithet, godbσqugos to Aurora. v. lib. i. 137. A. Dyce.


2 sow'd] Ambo de comis calorem, et ambo radios conserunt.' See Anthol. Lat. vol. i. p. 8, ed. Burm. Avieni, Orb. Desc. ver. 580. and Fragm. in Aristot. Poet.

Σπείρων θεοκτίσταν φλόγα. Upton.


When Adam wak'd, so custom'd, for his sleep
Was aery light, from pure digestion bred,
And temperate vapours bland, which th' only sound
Of leaves and fuming rills, Aurora's fan,
Lightly dispers'd, and the shrill matin song
Of birds on every bough: so much the more
His wonder was to find unwaken'd Eve
With tresses discompos'd and glowing cheek,
As through unquiet rest: he, on his side
Leaning half-rais'd, with looks of cordial love
Hung over her enamour'd, and beheld
Beauty, which, whether waking or asleep,
Shot forth peculiar graces: then with voice
Mild, as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes,
Her hand soft touching, whisper'd thus: Awake,
My fairest, my espoused, my latest found,
Heav'n's last best gift, my ever new delight,

5 only] For alone.' Spens. F. Q. v. xi. 30.
'As if the only sound thereof she fear'd.'

6 fuming] v. Lucretii. lib. vi. Virg. Geo. ii. 217.

6 fan] Sylvester's Du Bartas, p. 116.

'Calls forth the winds. Oh Heaven's fresh fans, quoth he:' and p. 161;

' now began Aurora's usher with his windy fan

Gently to shake the woods on every side.'

7 matin] Virg. Æn. viii. 456.

'Et matutini volucrum sub culmine cantus.'


'Rise up, my wif, my love, my lady free,

The turtle's vois is heard, myn owen swete!
The winter is gon, with all his raines wete!
Come forth now,' &c.



17 Awake] See Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, ver. 10012. (Marchant's Tale.)



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