"Gabriel, thou hadst in Heaven the esteem of To settle here on earth, or in mid air;
And such I held thee; but this question asked Puts me in doubt. Lives there who loves his pain? Who would not, finding way, break loose from hell,
Though thither doomed? Thou wouldst thyself no doubt,
And boldly venture to whatever place
Though for possession put to try once more What thou and thy gay legions dare against; Whose easier business were to serve their Lord High up in Heaven, with songs to hymn his throne And practised distances to cringe, not fight."
To whom the warrior angel soon replied. "To say and straight unsay, pretending first Wise to fly pain, professing next the spy,
Farthest from pain, where thou mightest hope to Argues no leader but a liar traced, change
Torment with ease, and soonest recompense
Dole with delight, which in this place I sought; To thee no reason, who knowest only good, But evil hast not tried: and wilt object His will who bounds us? let him surer bar His iron gates, if he intends our stay In that dark durance: thus much what was asked. The rest is true, they found me where they say; But that implies not violence or harm."
Satan, and could'st thou faithful add? O name, O sacred name of faithfulness profaned! Faithful to whom? to thy rebellious crew? Army of fiends, fit body to fit head. Was this your discipline and faith engaged, Your military obedience, to dissolve Allegiance to the acknowledged Power supreme? And thou,,sly hypocrite, who now wouldst seem Patron of liberty, who more than thou
Once fawned, and cringed, and servilely adored
Thus he in scorn. The warlike angel, moved, Heaven's awful Monarch? whrerefore, but in hope
Disdainfully half smiling, thus replied.
"O loss of one in Heaven to judge of wise, Since Satan fell, whom folly overthrew, And now returns him from his prison 'scaped, Gravely in doubt whether to hold them wise Or not, who ask what boldness brought him hither, Unlicensed, from his bounds in hell prescribed; So wise he judges it to fly from pain, However, and to escape his punishment! So judge thou still, presumptuous! till the wrath Which thou incurrest by flying, meet thy flight Sevenfold, and scourge that wisdom back to hell, Which taught thee yet no better, that no pain Can equal anger infinite provoked.
But wherefore thou alone? wherefore with thee Came not all hell broke loose? is pain to them Less pain, less to be fled? or thou than they Less hardy to endure? Courageous chief! The first in flight from pain! hadst thou alleged To thy deserted host this cause of flight, Thou surely hadst not come sole fugitive."
To which the fiend thus answered, frowning stern,
"Not that I less endure or shrink from pain, Insulting angel! well thou knowest I stood Thy fiercest, when in battle to thy aid The blasting vollied thunder made all speed, And seconded thy else not dreaded spear. But still thy words at random, as before, Argue thy inexperience what behooves, From hard assays and ill successes past, A faithful leader, not to hazard all Through ways of danger by himself untried: I therefore, I alone first undertook To wing the desolate abyss, and spy This new created world, whereof in hell Fame is not silent, here in hope to find Better abode, and my afflicted powers 5
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 hallowed limits thou appear, Back to the infernal pit I drag thee chained, And seal thee so, as henceforth not to scorn The facile gates of hell too slightly barred."
So threatened he: but Satan to no threats Gave heed, but waxing more in rage, replied. "Then when I am thy captive talk of chains, Proud limitary cherub! but ere then Far heavier load thyself expect to feel From my prevailing arm, though Heaven's King Ride on thy wings, and thou with thy compeers, Used to the yoke, drawest his triumphant wheels In progress through the road of Heaven star-paved." While thus he spake, the angelic squadron bright
Turned fiery red, sharpening 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 ploughman doubting stands,
Lest on the threshing-floor his hopeful sheaves Prove chaff. On the other side, Satan, alarmed, Collecting all his might, dilated stood, Like Teneriff or Atlas, unremoved : His stature reached the sky, and on his crest Sat horror plumed; nor wanted in his grasp What seemed both spear and shield: now dread- ful deeds
Might have ensued, not only Paradise In this commotion, but the starry cope Of Heaven perhaps, or all the elements At least had gone to wrack, disturbed and torn With violence of this conflict, had not soon
The Eternal, to prevent such horrid fray,
Beauty, which, whether waking or asleep,
Hung forth in Heaven his golden scales, yet seen Shot forth peculiar graces; then with voice
Betwixt Astrea and the scorpion sign, Wherein all things created first he weighed, The pendulous round earth with balanced air In counterpoise, now ponders all events, Battles and realms: in these he put two weights, The sequel each of parting and of fight; The latter quick up flew, and kicked the beam; Which Gabriel spying, thus bespake the fiend. "Satan, I know thy strength, and thou knowest mine,
Neither our own, but given; what folly then
To boast what arms can do! since thine no more Than Heaven permits, nor mine, though doubled
To trample thee as mire: for proof look up, And read thy lot in yon celestial sign,
Mild, as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes, Her hand soft touching, whispered thus. "Awake, My fairest, my espoused, my latest found, Heaven's last best gift, my ever new delight! Awake: the morning shines, and the fresh field Calls us; we lose the prime, to mark how spring Our tended plants, how blows the citron grove, What drops the myrrh, and what the balmy reed, How nature paints her colours, how the bee Sits on the bloom extracting liquid sweet."
Such whispering waked her, but with startled eye On Adam, whom embracing, thus she spake. "O sole in whom my thoughts find all repose, My glory, my perfection! glad I see
Thy face, and morn returned; for I this night (Such night till this I never passed) have dreamed,
Where thou art weighed, and shown how light, If dreamed, not, as I oft am wont, of thee,
If thou resist." The fiend looked 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 ene
Works of day past, or morrow's next design, But of offence and trouble, which my mind Knew never till this irksome night: methought Close at mine ear one called me forth to walk With gentle voice; I thought it thine: it said, 'Why sleepest thou, Eve? now is the pleasant time, The cool, the silent, save where silence yields To the night-warbling bird, that now awake Tunes sweetest his love-laboured song: now reigns Full orbed the moon, and with more pleasing light Shadowy sets off the face of things; in vain, If none regard; Heaven wakes with all his eyes, Whom to behold but thee, Nature's desire?
my near at hand, who he is, and why his enemy, and what. In whose sight all things joy, with ravishment ever else may avail Adam to know. Raphael comes down to Attracted by thy beauty still to gaze. Paradise; his appearance described; his coming discerned by I rose as at thy call, but found thee not; Adam afar off sitting at the door of his bower; he goes out to To find thee I directed then my walk; 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 the eastern clime Advancing, sowed the earth with orient pearl, When Adam waked, so customed; for his sleep Was airy light, from pure digestion bred, And temperate vapours bland, which the only sound Of leaves and fuming rills, Aurora's fan, Lightly dispersed, and the shrill matin song Of birds on every bough; so much the more His wonder was to find unwakened Eve With tresses discomposed, and glowing cheek As through unquiet rest; he on his side Leaning half raised, with looks of cordial love Hung over her enamoured, and beheld
And on, methought, alone I passed through ways That brought me on a sudden to the tree Of interdicted knowledge: fair it seemed, Much fairer to my fancy than by day: And, as I wondering looked, beside it stood One shaped and winged like one of those from Heaven
By us oft seen; his dewy locks distilled Ambrosia; on that tree he also gazed; And 'O fair plant,' said he, 'with fruit surcharged, Deigns none to ease thy load and taste thy sweet, Nor God, nor man? is knowledge so despised? Or envy, or what reserve forbids us taste? Forbid who will, none shall from me withhold Longer thy offered good; why else set here?' This said, he paused not, but with venturous arm He plucked, he tasted; me damp horror chilled At such bold words, vouched with a deed so bold: But he thus, overjoyed. 'O fruit divine, Sweet of thyself, but much more sweet thus cropt, Forbidden here, it seems, as only fit
For gods, yet able to make gods of men! And why not gods of men, since good, the more
Communicated, more abundant grows,
The author not impaired, but honoured more! Here happy creature, fair angelic Eve, Partake thus also; happy though thou art, Happier thou mayest be, worthier canst not be: Taste this, and be henceforth among the gods Thyself a goddess, not to earth confined, But sometimes in the air, as we, sometimes Ascend to Heaven, by merit thine, and see What life the gods live there, and such live thou.' So saying, he drew nigh, and to me held, Even to my mouth of that same fruit held part Which he had plucked; the pleasant savoury
So quickened appetite, that I, methought, Could not but taste. Forthwith up to the clouds With him I flew, and underneath beheld The earth outstretched immense, a prospect wide And various: wondering at my flight and change To this high exaltation; suddenly
My guide was gone, and I, methought sunk down, And fell asleep; but O how glad I waked To find this but a dream!" Thus Eve her night Related, and thus Adam answered sad.
"Best image of myself, and dearer half, The trouble of thy thoughts this night in sleep Affects me equally; nor can I like This uncouth dream, of evil sprung, I fear; Yet evil whence? in thee can harbour none, Created pure. But know, that in the soul Are many lesser faculties, that serve Reason as chief; among these fancy next Her office holds; of all external things, Which the five watchful senses represent, She forms imaginations, airy shapes, Which reason, joining or disjoining, frames All what we affirm or what deny, and call Our knowledge or opinion; then retires Into her private cell when nature rests. Oft in her absence mimic fancy wakes To imitate her; but, misjoining shapes, Wild work produces oft, and most in dreams, Ill matching words and deeds long past or late. Some such resemblances, methinks, I find Of our last evening's talk, in this thy dream, But with addition strange; yet be not sad. Evil into the mind of God or man
May come and go, so unapproved, and leave No spot or blame behind: which gives me hope, That what in sleep thou didst abhor to dream, Waking thou never wilt consent to do.
Be not disheartened then, nor cloud those looks, That wont to be more cheerful and serene, Than when fair morning first smiles on the world; And let us to our fresh employments rise Amon the groves, the fountains, and the flowers, That open now their choicest bosomed smells, Reserved from night, and kept for thee in store."
So cheered he his fair spouse, and she was
But silently a gentle tear let fall
From either eye, and wiped them with her hair; Two other precious drops that ready stood, Each in their crystal sluice, he ere they fell Kissed, as the gracious signs of sweet remorse And pious awe, that feared to have offended.
So all was cleared, and to the field they haste. But first, from under shady arborous roof, Soon as they forth were come to open sight Of dayspring, and the sun, who scarce uprisen, With wheels yet hovering o'er the ocean brim, Shot parallel to the earth his dewy ray, Discovering in wide landscape all the east Of Paradise and Eden's happy plains, Lowly they bowed adoring, and began Their orisons, each morning duly paid In various style; for neither various style Nor holy rapture wanted they to praise Their Maker, in fit strains pronounced, or sung Unmeditated; such prompt eloquence Flowed from their lips, in prose or numerous verse More tuneable than needed lute or harp To add more sweetness; and they thus began. "These are thy glorious works, Parent of good, Almighty! thine this universal frame, Thus wondrous fair: thyself how wondrous then! Unspeakable, who sitst above these Heavens, To us invisible, or dimly seen
In these thy lowest works; yet these declare Thy goodness beyond thought, and power divine. Speak, ye who best can tell, ye sons of light, Angels; for ye behold him, and with songs And choral symphonies, day without night. Circle his throne rejoicing; ye in Heaven, On earth join all ye creatures to extol Him first, him last, him midst, and without end. Fairest of stars, last in the train of night, If better thou belong not to the dawn, Sure pledge of day, that crown'st the smiling morn With thy bright circlet, praise him in thy sphere, While day arises, that sweet hour of prime. Thou Sun, of this great world both eye and soul, Acknowledge him thy greater, sound his praise In thy eternal course, both when thou climbest, And when high noon has gained, and when thou fallest.
Moon, that now meetest the orient sun, now fliest, With the fixed stars, fixed in their orb that flies. And ye five other wandering fires, that move In mystic dance, not without song, resound His praise, who out of darkness called up light. Air, and ye elements, the eldest birth Of nature's womb, that in quaternion run Perpetual circle, multiform; and mix And nourish all things; let your ceaseless change Vary to our great Maker still new praise.
Ye mists and exhalations, that now rise From hill or steaming lake, dusky or gray Till the sun paint your fleecy skirts with gold, In honour to the world's great Author rise; Whether to deck with clouds the uncoloured sky, Or wet the thirsty earth with falling showers, Rising or falling, still advance his praise. His praise, ye winds, that from four quarters blow, Breathe soft or loud; and wave your tops, ye pines,
With every plant in sign of worship wave. Fountains, and ye that warble, as ye flow, Melodious murmurs, warbling tune his praise. Join voices all ye living souls: ye birds, That singing up to Heaven gate ascend, Bear on your wings and in your notes his praise. Ye that in waters glide, and ye that walk The earth, and stately tread, or lowly creep, Witness if I be silent, morn or even, To hill, or valley, fountain, or fresh shade, Made vocal by my song, and taught his praise. Hail! universal Lord, be bounteous still To give us only good; and if the night Have gathered aught of evil, or concealed, Disperse it, as now light dispels the dark."
Late fallen himself from Heaven, is plotting now The fall of others from like state of bliss; By violence? no, for that shall he withstood; But by deceit and lies: this let him know, Lest wilfully trangressing he pretend Surprisal, unadmonished, unforewarned." So spake the eternal Father and fulfilled All justice: nor delayed the winged saint After his charge received; but from among Thousand celestial ardours, where he stood Veiled with his gorgeous winds, up springing light, Flew through the midst of Heaven; th' angelic choirs,
On each hand parting, to his speed gave way Through all the empyreal road; till at the gate Of Heaven arrived, the gate self-opened wide, On golden hinges turning, as by work Divine the sovereign architect had framed. From hence, no cloud, or, to obstruct his sight, Star interposed, however small he sees, Not unconform to other shining globes, Earth, and the garden of God, with cedars crowned Above all hills. As when by night the glass Of Galileo, less assured, observes So prayed they innocent, and to their thoughts Imagined lands and regions in the moon; Firm peace recovered soon and wonted calm. Or pilot, from amidst the Cyclades On to their morning's rural work they haste, Delos or Samos first appearing, kens Among sweet dews and flowers, where any row A cloudy spot. Down thither prone in flight Of fruit trees over-woody reached too far He speeds, and through the vast ethereal sky Their pampered boughs, and needed hands to Sails between worlds and worlds, with steady
Fruitless embraces: or they led the vine
To wed her elm; she, spoused about him twines Her marriageable arms, and with her brings Her dower, the adopted clusters, to adorn His barren leaves. The thus employed beheld With pity Heaven's high King, and to him called Raphael, the sociable spirit, that deigned To travel with Tobias, and secured
His marriage with the seven-times wedded maid. "Raphael," said he, "thou hearest what stir on earth
Now on the polar winds, then with quick fan Winnows the buxom air; till, within soar Of towering eagles, to all the fowls he seems A phoenix, gazed by all as that sole bird, When, to enshrine his reliques in the sun's Bright temple, to Egyptian Thebes he flies. At once on the eastern cliff of Paradise He lights, and to his proper shape returns A seraph winged: six wings he wore, to shade His lineaments divine; the pair that clad Each shoulder broad, came mantling o'er his breast
Satan from hell escaped through the darksome With regal ornament; the middle pair gulf,
Hath raised in Paradise, and how disturbed This night the human pair; how he designs In them at once to ruin all mankind. Go, therefore, half this day as friend with friend Converse with Adam, in what bower or shade Thou findest him from the heat of noon retired, To respite his day labour with repast, Or with repose; and such discourse bring on, As may advise him of his happy state, Happiness in his power left free to will, Left to his own free will, his will though free, Yet mutable; whence warn him to beware He swerve not, too secure; tell him withal His danger, and from whom; what enemy,
Girt like a starry zone his waist, and round Skirted his loins and thighs with downy gold And colours dipt in Heaven; the third his feet Shadowed from either heel with feathered mail, Sky-tinctured grain. Like Maia's son he stood. And shook his plumes, that Heavenly fragrance filled
The circuit wide. Straight knew him all the bands
Of angels under watch; and to his state, And to his message high, in honour rise; For on some message they guessed him bound. Their glittering tents he passed, and now is come Into the blissful field, through groves of myrrh, And flowering odours, cassia, nard, and balm;
A wilderness of sweets; for Nature here Wantoned as in her prime, and played at will Her virgin fancies, pouring forth more sweet Wild above rule or art; enormous bliss. Him, through the spicy forest onward come, Adam discerned, as in the door he sat
Of his cool bower, while now the mounted sun Shot down direct his fervid rays to warm
Meanwhile our primitive great sire, to meet His godlike guest, walks forth, without more train Accompanied than with his own complete Perfections; in himself was all his state, More solemn than the tedious pomp that waits On princes, when their rich retinue long Of horses led, and grooms besmeared with gold, Dazzles the crowd, and sets them all agape.
Earth's inmost womb, more warmth than Adam Nearer his presence Adam, though not awed,
And Eve within, due at her hour prepared For dinner savoury fruits, of taste to please True appetite, and not disrelish thirst Of nectarous draughts between, from milky stream, Berry or grape: to whom thus Adam called.
"Haste hither, Eve, and, worth thy sight, behold Eastward among those trees, what glorious shape Comes this way moving; seems another morn Risen on mid-noon; some great behest from heaven To us perhaps he brings, and will vouchsafe This day to be our guest. But go with speed, And what thy stores contain bring forth and pour Abundance, fit to honour and receive Our heavenly stranger: well we may afford Our givers their own gifts, and large bestow From large bestowed, where nature multiplies Her fertile growth, and by disburdening grows More fruitful, which instructs us not to spare." To whom thus Eve. Adam, earth's hallowed mould,
Of God inspired, small store will serve, where store, All seasons, ripe for us hangs on the stalk; Save what by frugal storing firmness gains To nourish, and superfluous moist consumes: But I will haste, and from each bough and brake, Each plant and juiciest gourd, will pluck such choice
To entertain our angel guest, as he Beholding shall confess, that here on earth God hath dispensed his bounties as in Heaven." So saying, with despatchful looks in haste She turns, on hospitable thoughts intent What choice to choose for delicacy best, What order so contrived as not to mix Tastes, not well joined, inelegant, but bring Taste after taste upheld with kindliest change; Bestirs her then, and from each tender stalk Whatever earth, all bearing mother, yields In India East or West, or middle shore In Pontus or the Punic coast, or where Alcinous reigned, fruit of all kinds, in coat Rough or smooth rind, or bearded husk, or shell, She gathers, tribute large, and on the board Heaps with unsparing hand; for drink the grape She crushes, inoffensive must, and meaths From many a berry; and from sweet kernels press'd She tempers dulcet creams; nor these to hold Wants her fit vessels pure; then strews the ground With rose and odours from the shrub unfumed.
Yet with submiss approach and reverence meek, As to a superior nature bowing low Thus said. "Native of Heaven, for other place None can than Heaven such glorious shape contain; Since, by descending from the thrones above, Those happy places thou hast deigned a while To want, and honour these, vouchsafe with us Two only, who yet by sovereign gift possess This spacious ground, in yonder shady bower To rest, and what the garden choicest bears To sit and taste till this meridian heat Be over and the sun more cool decline."
Whom thus the angelic virtue answered mild, "Adam, I therefore came; nor art thou such Created, or such place hast here to dwell, As may not oft invite, though spirits of Heaven, To visit thee: lead on then where thy bower O'ershades; for these mid-hours, till evening rise, I have at will." So to the sylvan lodge They came, that like Pomona's arbour smiled, With flowerets decked, and fragrant smells; but Eve,
Undecked, save with herself, more lovely fair Than wood nymph, or the fairest goddess, feigned Of three that in mount Ida naked strove, Stood to entertain her guest from heaven: no veil She needed, virtue proof; no thought infirm Altered her cheek. On whom the angel "Hail" Bestowed, the holy salutation used
Long after to blest Mary, second Eve.
"Hail! mother of mankind, whose fruitful womb Shall fill the world more numerous with thy sons Than with these various fruits the trees of God Have heaped this table!" Raised of grassy turf Their table was, and mossy seats had round, And on her ample square from side to side All autumn piled, though spring and autumn here Danced hand in hand. Awhile discourse they hold: No fear lest dinner cool; when thus began Our Author. "Heavenly stranger, please to taste These bounties, which our Nourisher, from whom All perfect good, unmeasured out, descends, To us for food, and for delight hath caused The earth to yield; unsavoury food perhaps To spiritual natures; only this I know, That one celestial Father gives to all." To whom the Angel. "Therefore what he gives (Whose praise be ever sung) to man, in part Spiritual, may of purest spirits be found No ingrateful food: and food alike those pure
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