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As one great furnace flam'd, yet from thofe flames

No light, but rather darkness visible

Serv'd only to discover fights of woe,

Regions of forrow, doleful shades, where Peace 65
And Reft 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 thofe rebellious, here their pris'on ordain'd
In uttter darkness, and their portion fet
As far remov'd from God and light of Heav'n,
As from the center 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
Beelzebub. To whom the Arch-enemy,

7 70



And thence in Heav'n call'd Satan, with bold words Breaking the horrid filence thus began.

If thou beeft he; but O how fall'n! how chang'd From him, who in the happy realms of Light 85 Cloth'd with transcendent brightnefs didst outshine Myriads though bright! If he whom mutual league, United thoughts and counfels, equal hope And hazard in the glorious enterprise,

Join'd with me once, now misery hath join'd
In equal ru'in : into what pit thou feest


From what highth 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 elfe inflict, do I repent or change,


Though chang'd in outward luftre, that fix'd mind,
And high difdain 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 fpirits arm'd,

That durft dislike his reign, and me preferring,


His utmost pow'r with adverfe pow'r oppos'd

In dubious battel on the plains of Heav'n,

And shook his throne. What though the field be lost? All is not loft; th' unconquerable will,


And study of revenge, immortal hate,
And courage never to fubmit or yield,
And what is else not to be overcome ;
That glory never fhall his wrath or might
Extort from me. To bow and fue for grace
With fuppliant knee, and deify his power,
Who from the terror of this arm fo late
Doubted his empire; that were low indeed,
That were an ignominy' and fhame beneath
This downfal; fince by fate the strength of gods
And this empyreal substance cannot fail,

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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 Heav'n.


So fpake th' apostate angel, though in pain, 125 Vaunting aloud, but rack'd with deep despair: And him thus anfwer'd foon his bold compeer. O Prince, O Chief of many throned powers, That led th' imbattel'd feraphim to war Under thy conduct, and in dreadful deeds Fearless, indanger'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 host
In horrible deftruction laid thus low,

As far as gods and heav'nly effences

Can perish for the mind and spi'rit remains
Invincible, and vigor foon returns,


Though all our glory' extinct, and happy state
Here swallow'd up in endless mifery.

But what if he our Conqu'ror (whom I now
Of force believe almighty, fince no less


Than fuch could have o'erpow'r'd fuch force as ours)

Have left us this our spi'rit and strength entire
Strongly to fuffer and fupport our pains,
That we may so fuffice his vengeful ire,
Or do him mightier service as his thralls
By right of war, whate'er his bus'nefs 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 sure,
To do ought good never will be our task,
But ever to do ill our fole delight,
As be'ing the contrary to his high will
Whom we refift. If then his providence
Out of our evil seek to bring forth good,
Our labor 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 in most counfels from their deftin'd aim.



But fee the angry Victor hath recall'd

His ministers of vengeance and pursuit


Back to the gates of Heav'n: the fulph'rous hail

Shot after us in storm, o'erblown 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, 175
Perhaps hath fpent his fhafts, and ceases now
To bellow through the vast and boundless Deep.
Let us not flip th' occasion, whether scorn,
Or fatiate fury yield it from our foe.

Seeft thou yon dreary plain, forlorn and wild, 180
The feat of Defolation, void of light,

Save what the glimmering of these livid flames
Cafts pale and dreadful? thither let us tend

From off the toffing of these fiery waves,

There reft, if any reft 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 refolution from defpair.


Thus Satan talking to his nearest mate
With head up-lift above the wave, and eyes
That fparkling blaz'd, his other parts besides
Prone on the flood, extended long and large
Lay floting many a rood, in bulk as huge
As whom the fables name of monstrous fize,
Titanian, or Earth-born, that warr'd on Jove,
Briareos or Typhon, whom the den

By ancient Tarfus held, or that fea-beast
Leviathan, which God of all his works



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