The Faerie Queene: Book I, Canto I – EDMUND SPENSER

Posted on September 17, 2018 by roynir

Lo I the man, whose Muse whilome did maske,

As time her taught in lowly Shepheards weeds,

Am now enforst a far unfitter taske,

For trumpets sterne to chaunge mine Oaten reeds,

And sing of Knights and Ladies gentle deeds;

Whose prayses having slept in silence long,

Me, all too meane, the sacred Muse areeds

To blazon broad emongst her learned throng:

Fierce warres and faithful loves shall moralize my song.

Helpe then, O holy Virgin chiefe of nine,

Thy weaker Novice to performe thy will,

Lay forth out of thine everlasting scryne

The antique rolles, which there lye hidden still,

Of Faerie knights and fairest Tanaquill,

Whom that most noble Briton Prince so long

Sought through the world, and suffered so much ill,

That I must rue his undeserved wrong:

O helpe thou my weake wit, and sharpen my dull tong.

And thou most dreaded impe of highest Jove,

Faire Venus sonne, that with thy cruell dart

At that good knight so cunningly didst rove,

That glorious fire it kindled in his hart,

Lay now thy deadly Heben bow apart,

And with thy mother milde come to mine ayde:

Come both, and with you bring triumphant Mart,

In loves and gentle jollities arrayd,

After his murdrous spoiles and bloudy rage allayd.

And with them eke, O Goddesse heavenly bright,

Mirrour of grace and Majestie divine,

Great Lady of the greatest Isle, whose light

Like Phoebus lampe throughout the world doth shine,

Shed thy faire beames into my feeble eyne,

And raise my thoughts too humble and too vile,

To thinke of that true glorious type of thine,

The argument of mine afflicted stile:

The which to heare, vouchsafe, O dearest dred a-while.

A Gentle Knight was pricking on the plaine,

Y cladd in mightie armes and silver shielde,

Wherein old dints of deepe wounds did remaine,

The cruell markes of many a bloudy fielde;

Yet armes till that time did he never wield:

His angry steede did chide his foming bitt,

As much disdayning to the curbe to yield:

Full jolly knight he seemd, and faire did sitt,

As one for knightly giusts and fierce encounters fitt.

But on his brest a bloudie Crosse he bore,

The deare remembrance of his dying Lord,

For whose sweete sake that glorious badge he wore,

And dead as living ever him ador’d:

Upon his shield the like was also scor’d,

For soveraine hope, which in his helpe he had:

Right faithfull true he was in deede and word,

But of his cheere did seeme too solemne sad;

Yet nothing did he dread, but ever was ydrad.

iii

Upon a great adventure he was bond,

That greatest Gloriana to him gave,

That greatest Glorious Queene of Faerie lond,

To winne him worship, and her grace to have,

Which of all earthly things he most did crave;

And ever as he rode, his hart did earne

To prove his puissance in battell brave

Upon his foe, and his new force to learne;

Upon his foe, a Dragon horrible and stearne.

A lovely Ladie rode him faire beside,

Upon a lowly Asse more white then snow,

Yet she much whiter, but the same did hide

Under a vele, that wimpled was full low,

And over all a blacke stole she did throw,

As one that inly mournd: so was she sad,

And heavie sat upon her palfrey slow;

Seemed in heart some hidden care she had,

And by her in a line a milke white lambe she lad.

So pure an innocent, as that same lambe,

She was in life and every vertuous lore,

And by descent from Royall lynage came

Of ancient Kings and Queenes, that had of yore

Their scepters stretcht from East to Westerne shore,

And all the world in their subjection held;

Till that infernall feend with foule uprore

Forwasted all their land, and them expeld:

Whom to avenge, she had this Knight from far compeld.

Behind her farre away a Dwarfe did lag,

That lasie seemd in being ever last,

Or wearied with bearing of her bag

Of needments at his backe. Thus as they past,

The day with cloudes was suddeine overcast,

And angry Jove an hideous storme of raine

Did poure into his Lemans lap so fast,

That every wight to shrowd it did constrain,

And this faire couple eke to shroud themselves were fain.

vii

Enforst to seeke some covert nigh at hand,

A shadie grove not far away they spide,

That promist ayde the tempest to withstand:

Whose loftie trees yclad with sommers pride,

Did spred so broad, that heavens light did hide,

Not perceable with power of any starre:

And all within were pathes and alleies wide,

With footing worne, and leading inward farre:

Faire harbour that them seemes; so in they entred arre.

viii

And foorth they passe, with pleasure forward led,

Joying to heare the birdes sweete harmony,

Which therein shrouded from the tempest dred,

Seemd in their song to scorne the cruell sky.

Much can they prayse the trees so straight and hy,

The sayling Pine, the Cedar proud and tall,

The vine-prop Elme, the Poplar never dry,

The builder Oake, sole king of forrests all,

The Aspine good for staves, the Cypresse funerall.

The Laurell, meed of mightie Conquerours

And Poets sage, the Firre that weepeth still,

The Willow worne of forlorne Paramours,

The Eugh obedient to the benders will,

The Birch for shaftes, the Sallow for the mill,

The Mirrhe sweete bleeding in the bitter wound,

The warlike Beech, the Ash for nothing ill,

The fruitfull Olive, and the Platane round,

The carver Holme, the Maple seeldom inward sound.

Led with delight, they thus beguile the way,

Untill the blustring storme is overblowne;

When weening to returne, whence they did stray,

They cannot find that path, which first was showne,

But wander too and fro in wayes unknowne,

Furthest from end then, when they neerest weene,

That makes them doubt, their wits be not their owne:

So many pathes, so many turnings seene,

That which of them to take, in diverse doubt they been.

At last resolving forward still to fare,

Till that some end they finde or in or out,

That path they take, that beaten seemd most bare,

And like to lead the labyrinth about;

Which when by tract they hunted had throughout,

At length it brought them to a hollow cave,

Amid the thickest woods. The Champion stout

Eftsoones dismounted from his courser brave,

And to the Dwarfe a while his needlesse spere he gave.

xii

Be well aware, quoth then that Ladie milde,

Least suddaine mischiefe ye too rash provoke:

The danger hid, the place unknowne and wilde,

Breeds dreadfull doubts: Oft fire is without smoke,

And perill without show: therefore your stroke

Sir knight with-hold, till further triall made.

Ah Ladie (said he) shame were to revoke

The forward footing for an hidden shade:

Vertue gives her selfe light, through darkenesse for to wade.

xiii

Yea but (quoth she) the perill of this place

I better wot then you, though now too late

To wish you backe returne with foule disgrace,

Yet wisedome warnes, whilest foot is in the gate,

To stay the steppe, ere forced to retrate.

This is the wandring wood, this Errours den,

A monster vile, whom God and man does hate:

Therefore I read beware. Fly fly (quoth then

The fearefull Dwarfe:) this is no place for living men.

xiv

But full of fire and greedy hardiment,

The youthfull knight could not for ought be staide,

But forth unto the darksome hole he went,

And looked in: his glistring armor made

A litle glooming light, much like a shade,

By which he saw the ugly monster plaine,

Halfe like a serpent horribly displaide,

But th’other halfe did womans shape retaine,

Most lothsom, filthie, foule, and full of vile disdaine.

And as she lay upon the durtie ground,

Her huge long taile her den all overspred,

Yet was in knots and many boughtes upwound,

Pointed with mortall sting. Of her there bred

A thousand yong ones, which she dayly fed,

Sucking upon her poisonous dugs, eachone

Of sundry shapes, yet all ill favored:

Soone as that uncouth light upon them shone,

Into her mouth they crept, and suddain all were gone.

xvi

Their dam upstart, out of her den effraide,

And rushed forth, hurling her hideous taile

About her cursed head, whose folds displaid

Were stretcht now forth at length without entraile.

She lookt about, and seeing one in mayle

Armed to point, sought backe to turne againe;

For light she hated as the deadly bale,

Ay wont in desert darknesse to remaine,

Where plaine none might her see, nor she see any plaine.

xvii

Which when the valiant Elfe perceiv’d, he lept

As Lyon fierce upon the flying pray,

And with his trenchand blade her boldly kept

From turning backe, and forced her to stay:

Therewith enrag’d she loudly gan to bray,

And turning fierce, her speckled taile advaunst,

Threatning her angry sting, him to dismay:

Who nought aghast, his mightie hand enhaunst:

The stroke down from her head unto her shoulder glaunst.

xviii

Much daunted with that dint, her sence was dazd,

Yet kindling rage, her selfe she gathered round,

And all attonce her beastly body raizd

With doubled forces high above the ground:

Tho wrapping up her wrethed sterne arownd,

Lept fierce upon his shield, and her huge traine

All suddenly about his body wound,

That hand or foot to stirre he strove in vaine:

God helpe the man so wrapt in Errours endlesse traine.

xix

His Lady sad to see his sore constraint,

Cride out, Now now Sir knight, shew what ye bee,

Add faith unto your force, and be not faint:

Strangle her, else she sure will strangle thee.

That when he heard, in great perplexitie,

His gall did grate for griefe and high disdaine,

And knitting all his force got one hand free,

Wherewith he grypt her gorge with so great paine,

That soone to loose her wicked bands did her constraine.

Therewith she spewd out of her filthy maw

A floud of poyson horrible and blacke,

Full of great lumpes of flesh and gobbets raw,

Which stunck so vildly, that it forst him slacke

His grasping hold, and from her turne him backe:

Her vomit full of bookes and papers was,

With loathly frogs and toades, which eyes did lacke,

And creeping sought way in the weedy gras:

Her filthy parbreake all the place defiled has.

xxi

As when old father Nilus gins to swell

With timely pride above the Aegyptian vale,

His fattie waves do fertile slime outwell,

And overflow each plaine and lowly dale:

But when his later spring gins to avale,

Huge heapes of mudd he leaves, wherein there breed

Ten thousand kindes of creatures, partly male

And partly female of his fruitfull seed;

Such ugly monstrous shapes elsewhere may no man reed.

xxii

The same so sore annoyed has the knight,

That welnigh choked with the deadly stinke,

His forces faile, ne can no longer fight.

Whose corage when the feend perceiv’d to shrinke,

She poured forth out of her hellish sinke

Her fruitfull cursed spawne of serpents small,

Deformed monsters, fowle, and blacke as inke,

Which swarming all about his legs did crall,

And him encombred sore, but could not hurt at all.

xxiii

As gentle Shepheard in sweete even-tide,

When ruddy Phoebus gins to welke in west,

High on an hill, his flocke to vewen wide,

Markes which do byte their hasty supper best;

A cloud of combrous gnattes do him molest,

All striving to infixe their feeble stings,

That from their noyance he no where can rest,

But with his clownish hands their tender wings

He brusheth oft, and oft doth mar their murmurings.

xxiv

Thus ill bestedd, and fearefull more of shame,

Then of the certaine perill he stood in,

Halfe furious unto his foe he came,

Resolv’d in minde all suddenly to win,

Or soone to lose, before he once would lin;

And strooke at her with more then manly force,

That from her body full of filthie sin

He raft her hatefull head without remorse;

A streame of cole black bloud forth gushed from her corse.

xxv

Her scattred brood, soone as their Parent deare

They saw so rudely falling to the ground,

Groning full deadly, all with troublous feare,

Gathred themselves about her body round,

Weening their wonted entrance to have found

At her wide mouth: but being there withstood

They flocked all about her bleeding wound,

And sucked up their dying mothers blood,

Making her death their life, and eke her hurt their good.

xxvi

That detestable sight him much amazde,

To see th’unkindly Impes of heaven accurst,

Devoure their dam; on whom while so he gazd,

Having all satisfide their bloudy thurst,

Their bellies swolne he saw with fulnesse burst,

And bowels gushing forth: well worthy end

Of such as drunke her life, the which them nurst;

Now needeth him no lenger labour spend,

His foes have slaine themselves, with whom he should contend.

xxvii

His Ladie seeing all, that chaunst, from farre

Approcht in hast to greet his victorie,

And said, Faire knight, borne under happy starre,

Who see your vanquisht foes before you lye:

Well worthy be you of that Armorie,

Wherein ye have great glory wonne this day,

And proov’d your strength on a strong enimie,

Your first adventure: many such I pray,

And henceforth ever wish, that like succeed it may.

xxviii

Then mounted he upon his Steede againe,

And with the Lady backward sought to wend;

That path he kept, which beaten was most plame,

Ne ever would to any by-way bend,

But still did follow one unto the end,

The which at last out of the wood them brought.

So forward on his way (with God to frend)

He passed forth, and new adventure sought;

Long way he travelled, before he heard of ought.

xxix

At length they chaunst to meet upon the way

An aged Sire, in long blacke weedes yclad,

His feete all bare, his beard all hoarie gray,

And by his belt his booke he hanging had;

Sober he seemde, and very sagely sad,

And to the ground his eyes were lowly bent,

Simple in shew, and voyde of malice bad,

And all the way he prayed, as he went,

And often knockt his brest, as one that did repent.

xxx

He faire the knight saluted, louting low,

Who faire him quited, as that courteous was:

And after asked him, if he did know

Of straunge adventures, which abroad did pas.

Ah my deare Sonne (quoth he) how should, alas,

Silly old man, that lives in hidden cell,

Bidding his beades all day for his trespas,

Tydings of warre and worldly trouble tell?

With holy father sits not with such things to mell.

xxxi

But if of daunger which hereby doth dwell,

And homebred evill ye desire to heare,

Of a straunge man I can you tidings tell,

That wasteth all this countrey farre and neare.

Of such (said he) I chiefly do inquere,

And shall you well reward to shew the place,

In which that wicked wight his dayes doth weare:

For to all knighthood it is foule disgrace,

That such a cursed creature lives so long a space.

xxxii

Far hence (quoth he) in wastfull wildernesse

His dwelling is, by which no living wight

May ever passe, but thorough great distresse.

Now (sayd the Lady) draweth toward night,

And well I wote, that of your later fight

Ye all forwearied be: for what so strong,

But wanting rest will also want of might?

The Sunne that measures heaven all day long,

At night doth baite his steedes the Ocean waves emong.

xxxiii

Then with the Sunne take Sir, your timely rest,

And with new day new worke at once begin:

Untroubled night they say gives counsell best.

Right well Sir knight ye have advised bin,

(Quoth then that aged man;) the way to win

Is wisely to advise: now day is spent;

Therefore with me ye may take up your In

For this same night. The knight was well content:

So with that godly father to his home they went.

xxxiv

A little lowly Hermitage it was,

Downe in a dale, hard by a forests side,

Far from resort of people, that did pas

In travell to and froe: a little wyde

There was an holy Chappell edifyde,

Wherein the Hermite dewly wont to say

His holy things each morne and eventyde:

Thereby a Christall streame did gently play,

Which from a sacred fountaine welled forth alway.

xxxv

Arrived there, the little house they fill,

Ne looke for entertainement, where none was:

Rest is their feast, and all things at their will;

The noblest mind the best contentment has.

With faire discourse the evening so they pas:

For that old man of pleasing wordes had store,

And well could file his tongue as smooth as glas;

He told of Saintes and Popes, and evermore

He strowd an Ave-Mary after and before.

xxxvi

The drouping Night thus creepeth on them fast,

And the sad humour loading their eye liddes,

As messenger of Morpheus on them cast

Sweet slombring deaw, the which to sleepe them biddes.

Unto their lodgings then his guestes he riddes:

Where when all drownd in deadly sleepe he findes,

He to his study goes, and there amiddes

His Magick bookes and artes of sundry kindes,

He seekes out mighty charmes, to trouble sleepy mindes.

xxxvii

Then choosing out few wordes most horrible,

(Let none them read) thereof did verses frame,

With which and other spelles like terrible,

He bad awake blacke Plutoes griesly Dame,

And cursed heaven, and spake reprochfull shame

Of highest God, the Lord of life and light;

A bold bad man, that dar’d to call by name

Great Gorgon, Prince of darknesse and dead night,

At which Cocytus quakes, and Styx is put to flight.

xxxviii

And forth he cald out of deepe darknesse dred

Legions of Sprights, the which like little flyes

Fluttring about his ever damned hed,

A-waite whereto their service he applyes,

To aide his friends, or fray his enimies:

Of those he chose out two, the falsest twoo,

And fittest for to forge true-seeming lyes;

The one of them he gave a message too,

The other by him selfe staide other worke to doo.

xxxix

He making speedy way through spersed ayre,

And through the world of waters wide and peepe,

To Morpheus house doth hastily repaire.

Amid the bowels of the earth full steepe,

And low, where dawning day doth never peepe,

His dwelling is; there Tethys his wet bed

Doth ever wash, and Cynthia still doth steepe

In silver deaw his ever-drouping hed,

Whiles sad Night over him her mantle black doth spred.

Whose double gates he findeth locked fast,

The one faire fram’d of burnisht Yvory,

The other all with silver overcast;

And wakefull dogges before them farre do lye

Watching to banish Care their enimy,

Who oft is wont to trouble gentle Sleepe.

By them the Sprite doth passe in quietly,

And unto Morpheus comes, whom drowned deepe

In drowsie fit he findes: of nothing he takes keepe.

xli

And more, to lulle him in his slumber soft,

A trickling streame from high rocke tumbling downe

And ever-drizling raine upon the loft,

Mixt with a murmuring winde, much like the sowne

Of swarming Bees, did cast him in a swowne:

No other noyse, nor peoples troublous cryes,

As still are wont t’annoy the walled towne,

Might there be heard: but carelesse Quiet lyes,

Wrapt in eternall silence farre from enemyes.

xlii

The messenger approching to him spake,

But his wast wordes returnd to him in vaine:

So sound he slept, that nought mought him awake.

Then rudely he him thrust, and pusht with paine,

Whereat he gan to stretch: but he againe

Shooke him so hard, that forced him to speake.

As one then in a dreame, whose dryer braine

In tost with troubled sights and fancies weake,

He mumbled soft, but would not all his silence breake.

xliii

The Sprite then gan more boldly him to wake,

And threatned unto him the dreaded name

Of Hecate: whereat he gan to quake,

And lifting up his lumpish head, with blame

Halfe angry asked him, for what he came.

Hither (quoth he) me Archimago sent,

He that the stubborne Sprites can wisely tame,

He bids thee to him send for his intent

A fit false dreame, that can delude the sleepers sent.

xliv

The God obayde, and calling forth straight way

A diverse dreame out of his prison darke,

Delivered it to him, and downe did lay

His heavie head, devoide of carefull carke,

Whose sences all were straight benumbed and starke.

He backe returning by the Yvorie dore,

Remounted up as light as chearefull Larke,

And on his litle winges the dreame he bore

In hast unto his Lord, where he him left afore.

xlv

Who all this while with charmes and hidden artes,

Had made a Lady of that other Spright,

And fram’d of liquid ayre her tender partes

So lively, and so like in all mens sight,

That weaker sence it could have ravisht quight:

The maker selfe for all his wondrous witt,

Was nigh beguiled with so goodly sight:

Her all in white he clad, and over it

Cast a blacke stole, most like to seeme for Una fit.

xlvi

Now when that ydle dreame was to him brought,

Unto that Elfin knight he bad him fly,

Where he slept soundly void of evill thought

And with false shewes abuse his fantasy,

In sort as he him schooled privily:

And that new creature borne without her dew,

Full of the makers guile, with usage sly

He taught to imitate that Lady trew,

Whose semblance she did carrie under feigned hew.

xlvii

Thus well instructed, to their worke they hast,

And comming where the knight in slomber lay,

The one upon his hardy head him plast,

And made him dreame of loves and lustfull play,

That nigh his manly hart did melt away,

Bathed in wanton blis and wicked joy:

Then seemed him his Lady by him lay,

And to him playnd, how that false winged boy,

Her chast hart had subdewd, to learne Dame pleasures toy.

xlviii

And she her selfe of beautie soveraigne Queene,

Faire Venus seemde unto his bed to bring

Her, whom he waking evermore did weene,

To be the chastest flowre, that ay did spring

On earthly braunch, the daughter of a king,

Now a loose Leman to vile service bound:

And eke the Graces seemed all to sing,

Hymen {i}{_o} Hymen, dauncing all around,

While freshest Flora her with Yvie girlond crownd.

xlix

In this great passion of unwonted lust,

Or wonted feare of doing ought amis,

He started up, as seeming to mistrust

Some secret ill, or hidden foe of his:

Lo there before his face his Lady is,

Under blake stole hyding her bayted hooke,

And as halfe blushing offred him to kis,

With gentle blandishment and lovely looke,

Most like that virgin true, which for her knight him took.

All cleane dismayd to see so uncouth sight,

And halfe enraged at her shamelesse guise,

He thought have slaine her in his fierce despight:

But hasty heat tempring with sufferance wise,

He stayde his hand, and gan himselfe advise

To prove his sense, and tempt her faigned truth.

Wringing her hands in wemens pitteous wise,

Tho can she weepe, to stirre up gentle ruth,

Both for her noble bloud, and for her tender youth.

And said, Ah Sir, my liege Lord and my love,

Shall I accuse the hidden cruell fate,

And mightie causes wrought in heaven above,

Or the blind God, that doth me thus amate,

For hoped love to winne me certaine hate?

Yet thus perforce he bids me do, or die.

Die is my dew: yet rew my wretched state

You, whom my hard avenging destinie

Hath made judge of my life or death indifferently.

lii

Your owne deare sake forst me at first to leave

My Fathers kingdome, There she stopt with teares;

Her swollen hart her speach seemd to bereave,

And then againe begun, My weaker yeares

Captiv’d to fortune and frayle worldly feares,

Fly to your faith for succour and sure ayde:

Let me not dye in languor and long teares.

Why Dame (quoth he) what hath ye thus dismayd?

What frayes ye, that were wont to comfort me affrayd?

liii

Love of your selfe, she said, and deare constraint

Lets me not sleepe, but wast the wearie night

In secret anguish and unpittied plaint,

Whiles you in carelesse sleepe are drowned quight.

Her doubtfull words made that redoubted knight

Suspect her truth: yet since no’untruth he knew,

Her fawning love with foule disdainefull spight

He would not shend, but said, Deare dame I rew,

That for my sake unknowne such griefe unto you grew.

liv

Assure your selfe, it fell not all to ground;

For all so deare as life is to my hart,

I deeme your love, and hold me to you bound;

Ne let vaine feares procure your needlesse smart,

Where cause is none, but to your rest depart.

Not all content, yet seemd she to appease

Her mournefull plaintes, beguiled of her art,

And fed with words, that could not chuse but please,

So slyding softly forth, she turnd as to her ease.

Long after lay he musing at her mood,

Much griev’d to think that gentle Dame so light,

For whose defence he was to shed his blood.

At last dull wearinesse of former fight

Having yrockt a sleepe his irkesome spright,

That troublous dreame gan freshly tosse his braine,

With bowres, and beds, and Ladies deare delight:

But when he saw his labour all was vaine,

With that misformed spright he backe returnd againe.

Paradise Lost: Book 2 – JOHN MILTON

Posted on September 14, 2018 by roynir

HIgh on a Throne of Royal State, which far

Outshon the wealth of Ormus and of Ind,

Or where the gorgeous East with richest hand

Showrs on her Kings Barbaric Pearl and Gold,

Satan exalted sat, by merit rais’d

To that bad eminence; and from despair

Thus high uplifted beyond hope, aspires

Beyond thus high, insatiate to pursue

Vain Warr with Heav’n, and by success untaught

His proud imaginations thus displaid.

Powers and Dominions, Deities of Heav’n,

For since no deep within her gulf can hold

Immortal vigor, though opprest and fall’n,

I give not Heav’n for lost. From this descent

Celestial vertues rising, will appear

More glorious and more dread then from no fall,

And trust themselves to fear no second fate:

Mee though just right, and the fixt Laws of Heav’n

Did first create your Leader, next free choice,

With what besides, in Counsel or in Fight,

Hath bin achievd of merit, yet this loss

Thus farr at least recover’d, hath much more

Establisht in a safe unenvied Throne

Yielded with full consent. The happier state

In Heav’n, which follows dignity, might draw

Envy from each inferior; but who here

Will envy whom the highest place exposes

Formost to stand against the Thunderers aim

Your bulwark, and condemns to greatest share

Of endless pain? where there is then no good

For which to strive, no strife can grow up there

From Faction; for none sure will claim in Hell

Precedence, none, whose portion is so small

Of present pain, that with ambitious mind

Will covet more. With this advantage then

To union, and firm Faith, and firm accord,

More then can be in Heav’n, we now return

To claim our just inheritance of old,

Surer to prosper then prosperity

Could have assur’d us; and by what best way,

Whether of open Warr or covert guile,

We now debate; who can advise, may speak.

He ceas’d, and next him Moloc, Scepter’d King

Stood up, the strongest and the fiercest Spirit

That fought in Heav’n; now fiercer by despair:

His trust was with th’ Eternal to be deem’d

Equal in strength, and rather then be less

Car’d not to be at all; with that care lost

Went all his fear: of God, or Hell, or worse

He reck’d not, and these words thereafter spake.

My sentence is for open Warr: Of Wiles,

More unexpert, I boast not: them let those

Contrive who need, or when they need, not now.

For while they sit contriving, shall the rest,

Millions that stand in Arms, and longing wait

The Signal to ascend, sit lingring here

Heav’ns fugitives, and for thir dwelling place

Accept this dark opprobrious Den of shame,

The Prison of his Tyranny who Reigns

By our delay? no, let us rather choose

Arm’d with Hell flames and fury all at once

O’re Heav’ns high Towrs to force resistless way,

Turning our Tortures into horrid Arms

Against the Torturer; when to meet the noise

Of his Almighty Engin he shall hear

Infernal Thunder, and for Lightning see

Black fire and horror shot with equal rage

Among his Angels; and his Throne it self

Mixt with Tartarean Sulphur, and strange fire,

His own invented Torments. But perhaps

The way seems difficult and steep to scale

With upright wing against a higher foe.

Let such bethink them, if the sleepy drench

Of that forgetful Lake benumm not still,

That in our proper motion we ascend

Up to our native seat: descent and fall

To us is adverse. Who but felt of late

When the fierce Foe hung on our brok’n Rear

Insulting, and pursu’d us through the Deep,

With what compulsion and laborious flight

We sunk thus low? Th’ ascent is easie then;

Th’ event is fear’d; should we again provoke

Our stronger, some worse way his wrath may find

To our destruction: if there be in Hell

Fear to be worse destroy’d: what can be worse

Then to dwell here, driv’n out from bliss, condemn’d

In this abhorred deep to utter woe;

Where pain of unextinguishable fire

Must exercise us without hope of end

The Vassals of his anger, when the Scourge

Inexorably, and the torturing hour

Calls us to Penance? More destroy’d then thus

We should be quite abolisht and expire.

What fear we then? what doubt we to incense

His utmost ire? which to the highth enrag’d,

Will either quite consume us, and reduce

To nothing this essential, happier farr

Then miserable to have eternal being:

Or if our substance be indeed Divine,

And cannot cease to be, we are at worst

On this side nothing; and by proof we feel

Our power sufficient to disturb his Heav’n,

And with perpetual inrodes to Allarme,

Though inaccessible, his fatal Throne:

Which if not Victory is yet Revenge.

He ended frowning, and his look denounc’d

Desperate revenge, and Battel dangerous

To less then Gods. On th’ other side up rose

Belial, in act more graceful and humane;

A fairer person lost not Heav’n; he seemd

For dignity compos’d and high exploit:

But all was false and hollow; though his Tongue

Dropt Manna, and could make the worse appear

The better reason, to perplex and dash

Maturest Counsels: for his thoughts were low;

To vice industrious, but to Nobler deeds

Timorous and slothful: yet he pleas’d the ear,

And with perswasive accent thus began.

I should be much for open Warr, O Peers,

As not behind in hate; if what was urg’d

Main reason to perswade immediate Warr,

Did not disswade me most, and seem to cast

Ominous conjecture on the whole success:

When he who most excels in fact of Arms,

In what he counsels and in what excels

Mistrustful, grounds his courage on despair

And utter dissolution, as the scope

Of all his aim, after some dire revenge.

First, what Revenge? the Towrs of Heav’n are fill’d

With Armed watch, that render all access

Impregnable; oft on the bordering Deep

Encamp thir Legions, or with obscure wing

Scout farr and wide into the Realm of night,

Scorning surprize. Or could we break our way

By force, and at our heels all Hell should rise

With blackest Insurrection, to confound

Heav’ns purest Light, yet our great Enemy

All incorruptible would on his Throne

Sit unpolluted, and th’ Ethereal mould

Incapable of stain would soon expel

Her mischief, and purge off the baser fire

Victorious. Thus repuls’d, our final hope

Is flat despair: we must exasperate

Th’ Almighty Victor to spend all his rage,

And that must end us, that must be our cure,

To be no more; sad cure; for who would loose,

Though full of pain, this intellectual being,

Those thoughts that wander through Eternity,

To perish rather, swallowd up and lost

In the wide womb of uncreated night,

Devoid of sense and motion? and who knows,

Let this be good, whether our angry Foe

Can give it, or will ever? how he can

Is doubtful; that he never will is sure.

Will he, so wise, let loose at once his ire,

Belike through impotence, or unaware,

To give his Enemies thir wish, and end

Them in his anger, whom his anger saves

To punish endless? wherefore cease we then?

Say they who counsel Warr, we are decreed,

Reserv’d and destin’d to Eternal woe;

Whatever doing, what can we suffer more,

What can we suffer worse? is this then worst,

Thus sitting, thus consulting, thus in Arms?

What when we fled amain, pursu’d and strook

With Heav’ns afflicting Thunder, and besought

The Deep to shelter us? this Hell then seem’d

A refuge from those wounds: or when we lay

Chain’d on the burning Lake? that sure was worse.

What if the breath that kindl’d those grim fires

Awak’d 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 horrors, threatning hideous fall

One day upon our heads; while we perhaps

Designing or exhorting glorious warr,

Caught in a fierie Tempest shall be hurl’d

Each on his rock transfixt, the sport and prey

Of racking whirlwinds, or for ever sunk

Under yon boyling Ocean, wrapt in Chains;

There to converse with everlasting groans,

Unrespited, unpitied, unrepreevd,

Ages of hopeless end; this would be worse.

Warr therefore, open or conceal’d, alike

My voice disswades; for what can force or guile

With him, or who deceive his mind, whose eye

Views all things at one view? he from heav’ns highth

All these our motions vain, sees and derides;

Not more Almighty to resist our might

Then wise to frustrate all our plots and wiles.

Shall we then live thus vile, the Race of Heav’n

Thus trampl’d, thus expell’d to suffer here

Chains and these Torments? better these then worse

By my advice; since fate inevitable

Subdues us, and Omnipotent Decree,

The Victors will. To suffer, as to doe,

Our strength is equal, nor the Law unjust

That so ordains: this was at first resolv’d,

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 vent’rous, 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 thir Conquerour: This is now

Our doom; which if we can sustain and bear,

Our Supream Foe in time may much remit

His anger, and perhaps thus farr remov’d

Not mind us not offending, satisfi’d

With what is punish’t; whence these raging fires

Will slack’n, if his breath stir not thir flames.

Our purer essence then will overcome

Thir noxious vapour, or enur’d not feel,

Or chang’d at length, and to the place conformd

In temper and in nature, will receive

Familiar the fierce heat, and void of pain;

This horror will grow milde, this darkness light,

Besides what hope the never-ending flight

Of future dayes may bring, what chance, what change

Worth waiting, since our present lot appeers

For happy though but ill, for ill not worst,

If we procure not to our selves more woe.

Thus Belial with words cloath’d in reasons garb

Counsel’d ignoble ease, and peaceful sloath,

Not peace: and after him thus Mammon spake.

Either to disinthrone the King of Heav’n

We warr, if warr be best, or to regain

Our own right lost: him to unthrone we then

May hope when everlasting Fathe shall yeild

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 Heav’ns bound, unless Heav’ns Lord supream

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 impos’d, to celebrate his Throne

With warbl’d Hymns, and to his God head sing

Forc’t Halleluia’s; 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 Heav’n this our delight; how wearisom

Eternity so spent in worship paid

To whom we hate. Let us not then pursue

By force impossible, by leave obtain’d

Unacceptable, though in Heav’n, our state

Of splendid vassalage, but rather seek

Our own good from our selves, and from our own

Live to our selves, though in this vast recess,

Free, and to none accountable, preferring

Hard liberty before the easie yoke

Of servile Pomp. Our greatness will appeer

Then most conspicuous, when great things of small,

Useful of hurtful, prosperous of adverse

We can create, and in what place so e’re

Thrive under evil, and work ease out of pain

Through labour and indurance. This deep world

Of darkness do we dread? How oft amidst

Thick clouds and dark doth Heav’ns all-ruling Sire

Choose to reside, his Glory unobscur’d,

And with the Majesty of darkness round

Covers his Throne; from whence deep thunders roar

Must’ring thir rage, and Heav’n resembles Hell?

As he our darkness, cannot we his Light

Imitate when we please? This Desart soile

Wants not her hidden lustre, Gemms and Gold;

Nor want we skill or Art, from whence to raise

Magnificence; and what can Heav’n shew more?

Our torments also may in length of time

Become our Elements, these piercing Fires

As soft as now severe, our temper chang’d

Into their temper; which must needs remove

The sensible of pain. All things invite

To peaceful Counsels, and the settl’d State

Of order, how in safety best we may

Compose our present evils, with regard

Of what we are and were, dismissing quite

All thoughts of warr: ye have what I advise.

He scarce had finisht, when such murmur filld

Th’ Assembly, as when hollow Rocks retain

The sound of blustring winds, which all night long

Had rous’d the Sea, now with hoarse cadence lull

Sea-faring men orewatcht, whose Bark by chance

Or Pinnace anchors in a craggy Bay

After the Tempest: Such applause was heard

As Mammon ended, and his Sentence pleas’d,

Advising peace: for such another Field

They dreaded worse then Hell: so much the fear

Of Thunder and the Sword of Michael

Wrought still within them; and no less desire

To found this nether Empire, which might rise

By pollicy, and long process of time,

In emulation opposite to Heav’n.

Which when Beelzebub perceiv’d, then whom,

Satan except, none higher sat, with grave

Aspect 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 shon,

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 Summers Noon-tide air, while thus he spake.

Thrones and Imperial Powers, off-spring of heav’n

Ethereal Vertues; or these Titles now

Must we renounce, and changing stile 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,

And know not that the King of Heav’n hath doom’d

This place our dungeon, not our safe retreat

Beyond his Potent arm, to live exempt

From Heav’ns high jurisdiction, in new League

Banded against his Throne, but to remaine

In strictest bondage, though thus far remov’d,

Under th’ inevitable curb, reserv’d

His captive multitude: For he, be sure

In heighth or depth, still first and last will Reign

Sole King, and of his Kingdom loose no part

By our revolt, but over Hell extend

His Empire, and with Iron Scepter rule

Us here, as with his Golden those in Heav’n.

What sit we then projecting peace and Warr?

Warr hath determin’d us, and foild with loss

Irreparable; tearms of peace yet none

Voutsaf’t or sought; for what peace will be giv’n

To us enslav’d, but custody severe,

And stripes, and arbitrary punishment

Inflicted? and what peace can we return,

But to our power hostility and hate,

Untam’d reluctance, and revenge though slow,

Yet ever plotting how the Conqueror least

May reap his conquest, and may least rejoyce

In doing what we most in suffering feel?

Nor will occasion want, nor shall we need

With dangerous expedition to invade

Heav’n, 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 Heav’n

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

Pronounc’d among the Gods, and by an Oath,

That shook Heav’ns whol circumference, confirm’d.

Thither let us bend all our thoughts, to learn

What creatures there inhabit, of what mould,

Or substance, how endu’d, and what thir Power,

And where thir weakness, how attempted best,

By force or suttlety: Though Heav’n be shut,

And Heav’ns high Arbitrator sit secure

In his own strength, this place may lye expos’d

The utmost border of his Kingdom, left

To their defence who hold it: here perhaps

Som advantagious act may be achiev’d

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 punie habitants, or if not drive,

Seduce them to our Party, that thir God

May prove thir 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

HurI’d headlong to partake with us, shall curse

Thir frail Original, and faded bliss,

Faded so soon. Advise if this be worth

Attempting, or to sit in darkness here

Hatching vain Empires. Thus Beelzebub

Pleaded his devilish Counsel, first devis’d

By Satan, and in part propos’d: for whence,

But from the Author 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 Creatour? But thir spite still serves

His glory to augment. The bold design

Pleas’d highly those infernal States, and joy

Sparkl’d in all thir eyes; with full assent

They vote: whereat his speech he thus renews.

Well have ye judg’d, well ended long debate,

Synod of Gods, and like to what ye are,

Great things resolv’d; which from the lowest deep

Will once more lift us up, in spight of Fate,

Neerer our ancient Seat; perhaps in view

Of those bright confines, whence with neighbouring Arms

And opportune excursion we may chance

Re-enter Heav’n; or else in some milde Zone

Dwell not unvisited of Heav’ns fair Light

Secure, and at the brightning Orient beam

Purge off this gloom; the soft delicious Air,

To heal the scarr of these corrosive Fires

Shall breathe her balme. But first whom shall we send

In search of this new world, whom shall we find

Sufficient? who shall tempt with wandring feet

The dark unbottom’d infinite Abyss

And through the palpable obscure find out

His uncouth way, or spread his aerie flight

Upborn with indefatigable wings

Over the vast abrupt, ere he arrive

The happy Ile; what strength, what art can then

Suffice, or what evasion bear him safe

Through the strict Senteries and Stations thick

Of Angels watching round? Here he had need

All circumspection, and we now no less

Choice in our suffrage; for on whom we send,

The weight of all and our last hope relies.

This said, he sat; and expectation held

His look suspence, awaiting who appeer’d

To second, or oppose, or undertake

The perilous attempt: but all sat mute,

Pondering the danger with deep thoughts; and each

In others count’nance read his own dismay

Astonisht: none among the choice and prime

Of those Heav’n-warring Champions could be found

So hardie as to proffer or accept

Alone the dreadful voyage; till at last

Satan, whom now transcendent glory rais’d

Above his fellows, with Monarchal pride

Conscious of highest worth, unmov’d thus spake.

O Progeny of Heav’n, Empyreal Thrones,

With reason hath deep silence and demurr

Seis’d us, though undismaid: long is the way

And hard, that out of Hell leads up to light;

Our prison strong, this huge convex of Fire,

Outrageous to devour, immures us round

Ninefold, and gates of burning Adamant

Barr’d over us prohibit all egress.

These past, if any pass, the void profound

Of unessential Night receives him next

Wide gaping, and with utter loss of being

Threatens him, plung’d in that abortive gulf.

If thence he scape into whatever world,

Or unknown Region, what remains him less

Then unknown dangers and as hard escape.

But I should ill become this Throne, O Peers,

And this Imperial Sov’ranty, adorn’d

With splendor, arm’d with power, if aught propos’d

And judg’d of public moment, in the shape

Of difficulty or danger could deterr

Mee from attempting. Wherefore do I assume

These Royalties, and not refuse to Reign,

Refusing to accept as great a share

Of hazard as of honour, due alike

To him who Reigns, and so much to him due

Of hazard more, as he above the rest

High honourd sits? Go therfore mighty Powers,

Terror of Heav’n, though fall’n; intend at home,

While here shall be our home, what best may ease

The present misery, and render Hell

More tollerable; if there be cure or charm

To respite or deceive, or slack the pain

Of this ill Mansion: intermit no watch

Against a wakeful Foe, while I abroad

Through all the Coasts of dark destruction seek

Deliverance for us all: this enterprize

None shall partake with me. Thus saying rose

The Monarch, and prevented all reply,

Prudent, least from his resolution rais’d

Others among the chief might offer now

(Certain to be refus’d) what erst they feard;

And so refus’d might in opinion stand

His Rivals, winning cheap the high repute

Which he through hazard huge must earn. But they

Dreaded not more th’ adventure then his voice

Forbidding; and at once with him they rose;

Thir rising all at once was as the sound

Of Thunder heard remote. Towards him they bend

With awful reverence prone; and as a God

Extoll him equal to the highest in Heav’n:

Nor fail’d they to express how much they prais’d,

That for the general safety he despis’d

His own: for neither do the Spirits damn’d

Loose all thir virtue; least bad men should boast

Thir specious deeds on earth, which glory excites,

Or clos ambition varnisht o’re with zeal.

Thus they thir doubtful consultations dark

Ended rejoycing in thir matchless Chief:

As when from mountain tops the dusky clouds

Ascending, while the North wind sleeps, o’respread

Heav’ns chearful face, the lowring Element

Scowls ore the dark’nd lantskip Snow, or showre;

If chance the radiant Sun with farewell sweet

Extend his ev’ning beam, the fields revive,

The birds thir notes renew, and bleating herds

Attest thir joy, that hill and valley rings.

O shame to men! Devil with Devil damn’d

Firm concord holds, men onely disagree

Of Creatures rational, though under hope

Of heavenly Grace: and God proclaiming peace,

Yet live in hatred, enmity, and strife

Among themselves, and levie cruel warres,

Wasting the Earth, each other to destroy:

As if (which might induce us to accord)

Man had not hellish foes anow besides,

That day and night for his destruction waite.

The Stygian Counsel thus dissolv’d; and forth

In order came the grand infernal Peers,

Midst came thir mighty Paramount, and seemd

Alone th’ Antagonist of Heav’n, nor less

Than Hells dread Emperour with pomp Supream,

And God-like imitated State; him round

A Globe of fierie Seraphim inclos’d

With bright imblazonrie, and horrent Arms.

Then of thir Session ended they bid cry

With Trumpets regal sound the great result:

Toward the four winds four speedy Cherubim

Put to thir mouths the sounding Alchymie

By Haralds voice explain’d: the hollow Abyss

Heard farr and wide, and all the host of Hell

With deafning shout, return’d them loud acclaim.

Thence more at ease thir minds and somwhat rais’d

By false presumptuous hope, the ranged powers

Disband, and wandring, each his several way

Pursues, as inclination or sad choice

Leads him perplext, where he may likeliest find

Truce to his restless thoughts, and entertain

The irksom hours, till this great Chief return.

Part on the Plain, or in the Air sublime

Upon the wing, or in swift Race contend,

As at th’ Olympian Games or Pythian fields;

Part curb thir fierie Steeds, or shun the Goal

With rapid wheels, or fronted Brigads form.

As when to warn proud Cities warr appears

Wag’d in the troubl’d Skie, and Armies rush

To Battel in the Clouds, before each Van

Prick forth the Aerie Knights, and couch thir Spears

Till thickest Legions close; with feats of Arms

From either end of Heav’n the welkin burns.

Others with vast Typhoean rage more fell

Rend up both Rocks and Hills, and ride the Air

In whirlwind; Hell scarce holds the wilde uproar.

As when Alcides from Oechalia Crown’d

With conquest, felt th’ envenom’d robe, and tore

Through pain up by the roots Thessalian Pines,

And Lichas from the top of Oeta threw

Into th’ Euboic Sea. Others more milde,

Retreated in a silent valley, sing

With notes Angelical to many a Harp

Thir own Heroic deeds and hapless fall

By doom of Battel; and complain that Fate

Free Vertue should enthrall to Force or Chance.

Thir Song was partial, but the harmony

(What could it less when Spirits immortal sing?)

Suspended Hell, and took with ravishment

The thronging audience. In discourse more sweet

(For Eloquence the Soul, Song charms the Sense,)

Others apart sat on a Hill retir’d,

In thoughts more elevate, and reason’d high

Of Providence, Foreknowledge, Will and Fate,

Fixt Fate, free will, foreknowledg absolute,

And found no end, in wandring mazes lost.

Of good and evil much they argu’d then,

Of happiness and final misery,

Passion and Apathie, and glory and shame,

Vain wisdom all, and false Philosophie:

Yet with a pleasing sorcerie could charm

Pain for a while or anguish, and excite

Fallacious hope, or arm th’ obdured brest

With stubborn patience as with triple steel.

Another part in Squadrons and gross Bands,

On bold adventure to discover wide

That dismal world, if any Clime perhaps

Might yield them easier habitation, bend

Four ways thir flying March, along the Banks

Of four infernal Rivers that disgorge

Into the burning Lake thir baleful streams;

Abhorred Styx the flood of deadly hate,

Sad Acheron of sorrow, black and deep;

Cocytus, nam’d of lamentation loud

Heard on the ruful stream; fierce Phlegeton

Whose waves of torrent fire inflame with rage.

Farr off from these a slow and silent stream,

Lethe the River of Oblivion roules

Her watrie 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 wilde, 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 hail’d,

At certain revolutions all the damn’d

Are brought: and feel by turns the bitter change

Of fierce extreams, extreams by change more fierce,

From Beds of raging Fire to starve in Ice

Thir soft Ethereal warmth, and there to pine

Immovable, infixt, and frozen round,

Periods of time, thence hurried back to fire.

They ferry over this Lethean Sound

Both to and fro, thir sorrow to augment,

And wish and struggle, as they pass, to reach

The tempting stream, with one small drop to loose

In sweet forgetfulness all pain and woe,

All in one moment, and so neer the brink;

But Fate withstands, and to oppose th’ attempt

Medusa with Gorgonian terror guards

The Ford, and of it self the water flies

All taste of living wight, as once it fled

The lip of Tantalus. Thus roving on

In confus’d march forlorn, th’ adventrous Bands

With shuddring horror pale, and eyes agast

View’d first thir lamentable lot, and found

No rest: through many a dark and drearie Vaile

They pass’d, and many a Region dolorous,

O’re many a Frozen, many a fierie Alpe,

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 conceiv’d,

Gorgons and Hydra’s, and Chimera’s dire.

Mean while the Adversary of God and Man,

Satan with thoughts inflam’d of highest design,

Puts on swift wings, and towards the Gates of Hell

Explores his solitary flight; som times

He scours the right hand coast, som times the left,

Now shaves with level wing the Deep, then soares

Up to the fiery Concave touring high.

As when farr off at Sea a Fleet descri’d

Hangs in the Clouds, by Aequinoctial Winds

Close sailing from Bengala, or the Iles

Of Ternate and Tidore, whence Merchants bring

Thir spicie Drugs: they on the Trading Flood

Through the wide Ethiopian to the Cape

Ply stemming nightly toward the Pole. So seem’d

Farr off the flying Fiend: at last appeer

Hell bounds high reaching to the horrid Roof,

And thrice threefold the Gates; three folds were Brass,

Three Iron, three of Adamantine Rock,

Impenetrable, impal’d with circling fire,

Yet unconsum’d. Before the Gates there sat

On either side a formidable shape;

The one seem’d Woman to the waste, and fair,

But ended foul in many a scaly fould

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 Cerberian mouths full loud, and rung

A hideous Peal: yet, when they list, would creep,

If aught disturb’d thir noyse, into her woomb,

And kennel there, yet there still bark’d and howl’d,

Within unseen. Farr less abhorrd than these

Vex’d Scylla bathing in the Sea that parts

Calabria from the hoarce Trinacrian shore:

Nor uglier follow the Night-Hag, when call’d

In secret, riding through the Air she comes

Lur’d with the smell of infant blood, to dance

With Lapland Witches, while the labouring Moon

Eclipses at thir charms. The other shape,

If shape it might be call’d that shape had none

Distinguishable in member, joynt, 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 admir’d,

Admir’d, not fear’d; God and his Son except,

Created thing naught valu’d he nor shun’d;

And with disdainful look thus first began.

Whence and what art thou, execrable shape,

That dar’st, though grim and terrible, advance

Thy miscreated Front athwart my way

To yonder Gates? through them I mean to pass,

That be assur’d, without leave askt 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 wrauth reply’d,

Art thou that Traitor Angel, art thou hee,

Who first broke peace in Heav’n and Faith, till then

Unbrok’n, and in proud rebellious Arms

Drew after him the third part of Heav’ns Sons

Conjur’d against the highest, for which both Thou

And they outcast from God, are here condemn’d

To waste Eternal dayes in woe and pain?

And reck’n’st thou thy self 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,

Least with a whip of Scorpions I pursue

Thy lingring, or with one stroke of this Dart

Strange horror seise thee, and pangs unfelt before.

So spake the grieslie terrour, and in shape,

So speaking and so threatning, grew tenfold

More dreadful and deform: on th’ other side

Incenst with indignation Satan stood

Unterrifi’d, and like a Comet burn’d,

That fires the length of Ophiucus huge

In th’ Artick Sky, and from his horrid hair

Shakes Pestilence and Warr. Each at the Head

Level’d his deadly aime; thir fatall hands

No second stroke intend, and such a frown

Each cast at th’ other, as when two black Clouds

With Heav’ns Artillery fraught, come rattling on

Over the Caspian, then stand front to front

Hov’ring a space, till Winds the signal blow

To joyn thir dark Encounter in mid air:

So frownd the mighty Combatants, that Hell

Grew darker at thir frown, so matcht they stood;

For never but once more was either like

To meet so great a foe: and now great deeds

Had been achiev’d, whereof all Hell had rung,

Had not the Snakie 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 Fathers head? and know’st for whom;

For him who sits above and laughs the while

At thee ordain’d his drudge, to execute

What e’re 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 Vaile first met thou call’st

Me Father, and that Fantasm ca11’st my Son?

I know thee not, nor ever saw till now

Sight more detestable then 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 deemd so fair

In Heav’n, when at th’ Assembly, and in sight

Of all the Seraphim with thee combin’d

In bold conspiracy against Heav’ns King,

All on a sudden miserable pain

Surpris’d thee, dim thine eyes, and dizzie swumm

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,

Then shining heav’nly fair, a Goddess arm’d

Out of thy head I sprung: amazement seis’d

All th’ Host of Heav’n; back they recoild affraid

At first, and call’d me Sin, and for a Sign

Portentous held me; but familiar grown,

I pleas’d, and with attractive graces won

The most averse, thee chiefly, who full oft

Thy self in me thy perfect image viewing

Becam’st enamour’d, and such joy thou took’st

With me in secret, that my womb conceiv’d

A growing burden. Mean while Warr arose,

And fields were fought in Heav’n; wherein remaind

(For what could else) to our Almighty Foe

Cleer Victory, to our part loss and rout

Through all the Empyrean: down they fell

Driv’n headlong from the Pitch of Heaven, down

Into this Deep, and in the general fall

I also; at which time this powerful Key

Into my hand was giv’n, with charge to keep

These Gates for ever shut, which none can pass

Without my op’ning. Pensive here I sat

Alone, but long I sat not, till my womb

Pregnant by thee, and now excessive grown

Prodigious motion felt and rueful throes.

At last this odious offspring whom thou seest

Thine own begotten, breaking violent way

Tore through my entrails, that with fear and pain

Distorted, all my nether shape thus grew

Transform’d: but he my inbred enemie

Forth issu’d, brandishing his fatal Dart

Made to destroy: I fled, and cry’d out Death;

Hell trembl’d at the hideous Name, and sigh’d

From all her Caves, and back resounded Death.

I fled, but he pursu’d (though more, it seems,

Inflam’d with lust then rage) and swifter far,

Mee overtook his mother all dismaid,

And in embraces forcible and foule

Ingendring with me, of that rape begot

These yelling Monsters that with ceasless cry

Surround me, as thou sawst, hourly conceiv’d

And hourly born, with sorrow infinite

To me, for when they list into the womb

That bred them they return, and howle and gnaw

My Bowels, thir repast; then bursting forth

A fresh with conscious terrours vex me round,

That rest or intermission none I find.

Before mine eyes in opposition sits

Grim Death my Son and foe, who sets them on,

And me his Parent would full soon devour

For want of other prey, but that he knows

His end with mine involvd; and knows that I

Should prove a bitter Morsel, and his bane,

When ever that shall be; so Fate pronounc’d.

But thou O Father, I forewarn thee, shun

His deadly arrow; neither vainly hope

To be invulnerable in those bright Arms,

Though temper’d heav’nly, for that mortal dint,

Save he who reigns above, none can resist.

She finish’d, and the suttle Fiend his lore

Soon learnd, now milder, and thus answerd smooth.

Dear Daughter, since thou claim’st me for thy Sire,

And my fair Son here showst me, the dear pledge

Of dalliance had with thee in Heav’n, and joys

Then sweet, now sad to mention, through dire change

Befalln us unforeseen, unthought of, know

I come no enemie, but to set free

From out this dark and dismal house of pain,

Both him and thee, and all the heav’nly Host

Of Spirits that in our just pretenses arm’d

Fell with us from on high: from them I go

This uncouth errand sole, and one for all

My self expose, with lonely steps to tread

Th’ unfounded deep, and through the void immense

To search with wandring quest a place foretold

Should be, and, by concurring signs, ere now

Created vast and round, a place of bliss

In the Pourlieues of Heav’n, and therein plac’t

A race of upstart Creatures, to supply

Perhaps our vacant room, though more remov’d,

Least Heav’n surcharg’d with potent multitude

Might hap to move new broiles: Be this or aught

Then this more secret now design’d, I haste

To know, and this once known, shall soon return,

And bring ye to the place where Thou and Death

Shall dwell at ease, and up and down unseen

Wing silently the buxom Air, imbalm’d

With odours; there ye shall be fed and fill’d

Immeasurably, all things shall be your prey.

He ceas’d, for both seemd highly pleasd, and Death

Grinnd horrible a gastly smile, to hear

His famine should be fill’d, and blest his mawe

Destin’d to that good hour: no less rejoyc’d

His mother bad, and thus bespake her Sire.

The key of this infernal Pit by due,

And by command of Heav’ns all-powerful King

I keep, by him forbidden to unlock

These Adamantine Gates; against all force

Death ready stands to interpose his dart,

Fearless to be o’rmatcht by living might.

But what ow I to his commands above

Who hates me, and hath hither thrust me down

Into this gloom of Tartarus profound,

To sit in hateful Office here confin’d,

Inhabitant of Heav’n, and heav’nlie-born,

Here in perpetual agonie and pain,

With terrors and with clamors compasst round

Of mine own brood, that on my bowels feed:

Thou art my Father, thou my Author, thou

My being gav’st me; whom should I obey

But thee, whom follow? thou wilt bring me soon

To that new world of light and bliss, among

The Gods who live at ease, where I shall Reign

At thy right hand voluptuous, as beseems

Thy daughter and thy darling, without end.

Thus saying, from her side the fatal Key,

Sad instrument of all our woe, she took;

And towards the Gate rouling her bestial train,

Forthwith the huge Porcullis high up drew,

Which but her self not all the Stygian powers

Could once have mov’d; then in the key-hole turns

Th’ intricate wards, and every Bolt and Bar

Of massie Iron or sollid Rock with ease

Unfast’ns: on a sudden op’n flie

With impetuous recoile and jarring sound

Th’ infernal dores, and on thir hinges grate

Harsh Thunder, that the lowest bottom shook

Of Erebus. She op’nd, but to shut

Excel’d her power; the Gates wide op’n stood,

That with extended wings a Bannerd Host

Under spread Ensigns marching might pass through

With Horse and Chariots rankt in loose array;

So wide they stood, and like a Furnace mouth

Cast forth redounding smoak and ruddy flame.

Before thir eyes in sudden view appear

The secrets of the hoarie deep, a dark

Illimitable Ocean without bound,

Without dimension, where length, breadth, & highth,

And time and place are lost; where eldest Night

And Chaos. Ancestors of Nature, hold

Eternal Anarchie, amidst the noise

Of endless Warrs, and by confusion stand.

For hot, cold, moist, and dry, four Champions fierce

Strive here for Maistrie, and to Battel bring

Thir embryon Atoms; they around the flag

Of each his Faction, in thir several Clanns,

Light-arm’d or heavy, sharp, smooth, swift or slow,

Swarm populous, unnumber’d as the Sands

Of Barca or Cyrene’s torrid soil,

Levied to side with warring Winds, and poise

Thir lighter wings. To whom these most adhere,

Hee rules a moment; Chaos Umpire sits,

And by decision more imbroiles the fray

By which he Reigns: next him high Arbiter

Chance governs all. Into this wilde Abyss,

The Womb of nature and perhaps her Grave,

Of neither Sea, nor Shore, nor Air, nor Fire,

But all these in thir pregnant causes mixt

Confus’dly, and which thus must ever fight,

Unless th’ Almighty Maker them ordain

His dark materials to create more Worlds,

Into this wild Abyss the warie fiend

Stood on the brink of Hell and look’d a while,

Pondering his Voyage; for no narrow frith

He had to cross. Nor was his eare less peal’d

With noises loud and ruinous (to compare

Great things with small) then when Bellona storms,

With all her battering Engines bent to rase

Som Capital City; or less then if this frame

Of Heav’n were falling, and these Elements

In mutinie had from her Axle torn

The stedfast Earth. At last his Sail-broad Vannes

He spreads for flight, and in the surging smoak

Uplifted spurns the ground, thence many a League

As in a cloudy Chair ascending rides

Audacious, but that seat soon failing, meets

A vast vacuitie: all unawares

Fluttring his pennons vain plumb down he drops

Ten thousand fadom deep, and to this hour

Down had been falling, had not by ill chance

The strong rebuff of som tumultuous cloud

Instinct with Fire and Nitre hurried him

As many miles aloft: that furie stay’d,

Quencht in a Boggie Syrtis, neither Sea,

Nor good dry Land: nigh founderd on he fares,

Treading the crude consistence, half on foot,

Half flying; behoves him now both Oare and Saile.

As when a Gryfon through the Wilderness

With winged course ore Hill or moarie Dale,

Pursues the Arimaspian, who by stelth

Had from his wakeful custody purloind

The guarded Gold: So eagerly the fiend

Ore bog or steep, through strait, rough, dense, or rare,

With head, hands, wings or feet pursues his way,

And swims or sinks, or wades, or creeps, or flyes:

At length a universal hubbub wilde

Of stunning sounds and voices all confus’d

Born through the hollow dark assaults his eare

With loudest vehemence: thither he plyes,

Undaunted to meet there what ever power

Or Spirit of the nethermost Abyss

Might in that noise reside, of whom to ask

Which way the neerest coast of darkness lyes

Bordering on light; when strait behold the Throne

Of Chaos, and his dark Pavilion spread

Wide on the wasteful Deep; with him Enthron’d

Sat Sable-vested Night, eldest of things,

The Consort of his Reign; and by them stood

Orcus and Ades, and the dreaded name

Of Demogorgon; Rumor next and Chance,

And Tumult and Confusion all imbroild,

And Discord with a thousand various mouths.

T’ whom Satan turning boldly, thus. Ye Powers

And Spirits of this nethermost Abyss,

Chaos and ancient Night, I come no Spy,

With purpose to explore or to disturb

The secrets of your Realm, but by constraint

Wandring this darksome Desart, as my way,

Lies through your spacious Empire up to light,

Alone, and without guide, half lost, I seek

What readiest path leads where your gloomie bounds

Confine with Heav’n; or if som other place

From your Dominion won, th’ Ethereal King

Possesses lately, thither to arrive

I travel this profound, direct my course;

Directed no mean recompence it brings

To your behoof, if I that Region lost,

All usurpation thence expell’d, reduce

To her original darkness and your sway

(Which is my present journey) and once more

Erect the Standard there of ancient Night;

Yours be th’ advantage all, mine the revenge.

Thus Satan; and him thus the Anarch old

With faultring speech and visage incompos’d

Answer’d. I know thee, stranger, who thou art,

That mighty leading Angel, who of late

Made head against Heav’ns King, though overthrown.

I saw and heard, for such a numerous Host

Fled not in silence through the frighted deep

With ruin upon ruin, rout on rout,

Confusion worse confounded; and Heav’n Gates

Pourd out by millions her victorious Bands

Pursuing. I upon my Frontieres here

Keep residence; if all I can will serve,

That little which is left so to defend,

Encroacht on still through our intestine broiles

Weakning the Scepter of old Night: first Hell

Your dungeon stretching far and wide beneath;

Now lately Heaven and Earth, another World

Hung ore my Realm, link’d in a golden Chain

To that side Heav’n from whence your Legions fell:

If that way be your walk, you have not farr;

So much the neerer danger; go and speed;

Havock and spoil and ruin are my gain.

He ceas’d; and Satan staid not to reply,

But glad that now his Sea should find a shore,

With fresh alacritie and force renew’d

Springs upward like a Pyramid of fire

Into the wilde expanse, and through the shock

Of fighting Elements, on all sides round

Environ’d wins his way; harder beset

And more endanger’d, then when Argo pass’d

Through Bosporus betwixt the justling Rocks:

Or when Ulysses on the Larbord shunnd

Charybdis, and by th’ other whirlpool steard.

So he with difficulty and labour hard

Mov’d on, with difficulty and labour hee;

But hee once past, soon after when man fell,

Strange alteration! Sin and Death amain

Following his track, such was the will of Heav’n,

Pav’d after him a broad and beat’n way

Over the dark Abyss, whose boiling Gulf

Tamely endur’d a Bridge of wondrous length

From Hell continu’d reaching th’ utmost Orbe

Of this frail World; by which the Spirits perverse

With easie intercourse pass to and fro

To tempt or punish mortals, except whom

God and good Angels guard by special grace.

But now at last the sacred influence

Of light appears, and from the walls of Heav’n

Shoots farr into the bosom of dim Night

A glimmering dawn; here Nature first begins

Her fardest verge, and Chaos to retire

As from her outmost works a brok’d foe

With tumult less and with less hostile din,

That Satan with less toil, and now with ease

Wafts on the calmer wave by dubious light

And like a weather-beaten Vessel holds

Gladly the Port, though Shrouds and Tackle torn;

Or in the emptier waste, resembling Air,

Weighs his spread wings, at leasure to behold

Farr off th’ Empyreal Heav’n, extended wide

In circuit, undetermind square or round,

With Opal Towrs and Battlements adorn’d

Of living Saphire, once his native Seat;

And fast by hanging in a golden Chain

This pendant world, in bigness as a Starr

Of smallest Magnitude close by the Moon.

Thither full fraught with mischievous revenge,

Accurst, and in a cursed hour he hies.

Paradise Regain’d : Book 1- John Milton

Posted on September 14, 2018 by roynir

I who e’re while the happy Garden sung,
By one mans disobedience lost, now sing
Recover’d Paradise to all mankind,
By one mans firm obedience fully tri’d
Through all temptation, and the Tempter foil’d [ 5 ]
In all his wiles, defeated and repuls’t,
And Eden rais’d in the wast Wilderness.

Thou Spirit, who ledst this glorious Eremite
Into the Desert, his Victorious Field
Against the Spiritual Foe, and broughtst him thence [ 10 ]
By proof th’ undoubted Son of God, inspire,
As thou art wont, my prompted Song else mute,
And bear through highth or depth of natures bounds,
With prosperous wing full summ’d to tell of deeds
Above Heroic, though in secret done, [ 15 ]
And unrecorded left through many an Age,
Worthy t’ have not remain’d so long unsung.

Now had the great Proclaimer with a voice
More awful then the sound of Trumpet, cried
Repentance, and Heavens Kingdom nigh at hand [ 20 ]
To all Baptiz’d: to his great Baptism flock’d
With aw the Regions round, and with them came
From Nazareth the Son of Joseph deem’d
To the flood Jordan, came as then obscure,
Unmarkt, unknown; but him the Baptist soon [ 25 ]
Descri’d, divinely warn’d, and witness bore
As to his worthier, and would have resign’d
To him his Heavenly Office, nor was long
His witness unconfirm’d; on him baptiz’d
Heaven open’d, and in likeness of a Dove [ 30 ]
The Spirit descended, while the Fathers voice
From Heav’n pronounc’d him his beloved Son
That heard the Adversary, who roving still
About the world, at that assembly fam’d
Would not be last, and with the voice divine [ 35 ]
Nigh Thunder-struck, th’ exalted man, to whom
Such high attest was giv’n, a while survey’d
With wonder, then with envy fraught and rage
Flies to his place, nor rests, but in mid air
To Councel summons all his mighty Peers, [ 40 ]
Within thick Clouds and dark ten-fold involv’d,
A gloomy Consistory; and them amidst
With looks aghast and sad he thus bespake.

O ancient Powers of Air and this wide world,
For much more willingly I mention Air, [ 45 ]
This our old Conquest, then remember Hell
Our hated habitation; well ye know
How many Ages, as the years of men,
This Universe we have possest, and rul’d
In manner at our will th’ affairs of Earth, [ 50 ]
Since Adam and his facil consort Eve
Lost Paradise deceiv’d by me, though since
With dread attending when that fatal wound
Shall be inflicted by the Seed of Eve
Upon my head, long the decrees of Heav’n [ 55 ]
Delay, for longest time to him is short;
And now too soon for us the circling hours
This dreaded time have compast, wherein we
Must bide the stroak of that long threatn’d wound,
At least if so we can, and by the head [ 60 ]
Broken be not intended all our power
To be infring’d, our freedom and our being
In this fair Empire won of Earth and Air;
For this ill news I bring, the Womans seed
Destin’d to this, is late of woman born, [ 65 ]
His birth to our just fear gave no small cause,
But his growth now to youths full flowr, displaying
All vertue, grace and wisdom to atchieve
Things highest, greatest, multiplies my fear.
Before him a great Prophet, to proclaim [ 70 ]
His coming, is sent Harbinger, who all
Invites, and in the Consecrated stream
Pretends to wash off sin, and fit them so
Purified to receive him pure, or rather
To do him honour as their King; all come, [ 75 ]
And he himself among them was baptiz’d,
Not thence to be more pure, but to receive
The testimony of Heaven, that who he is
Thenceforth the Nations may not doubt; I saw
The Prophet do him reverence; on him rising [ 80 ]
Out of the water, Heav’n above the Clouds
Unfold her Crystal Dores, thence on his head
A perfect Dove descend, what e’re it meant,
And out of Heav’n the Sov’raign voice I heard,
This is my Son belov’d, in him am pleas’d. [ 85 ]
His Mother then is mortal, but his Sire
He who obtains the Monarchy of Heav’n,
And what will he not do to advance his Son?
His first-begot we know, and sore have felt,
When his fierce thunder drove us to the deep; [ 90 ]
Who this is we must learn, for man he seems
In all his lineaments, though in his face
The glimpses of his Fathers glory shine.
Ye see our danger on the utmost edge
Of hazard, which admits no long debate, [ 95 ]
But must with something sudden be oppos’d,
Not force, but well couch’t fraud, well-woven snares,
E’re in the head of Nations he appear
Their King, their Leader, and Supream on Earth.
I, when no other durst, sole undertook [ 100 ]
The dismal expedition to find out
And ruine Adam, and the exploit perform’d
Successfully; a calmer voyage now
Will waft me; and the way found prosperous once
Induces best to hope of like success. [ 105 ]

He ended, and his words impression left
Of much amazement to th’ infernal Crew,
Distracted and surpriz’d with deep dismay
At these sad tidings; but no time was then
For long indulgence to their fears or grief: [ 110 ]
Unanimous they all commit the care
And management of this main enterprize
To him, their great Dictator, whose attempt
At first against mankind so well had thriv’d
In Adam’s overthrow, and led thir march [ 115 ]
From Hell’s deep-vaulted Den to dwell in light,
Regents and Potentates, and Kings, yea gods
Of many a pleasant Realm and Province wide.
So to the Coast of Jordan he directs
His easie steps, girded with snaky wiles, [ 120 ]
Where he might likeliest find this new-declar’d,
This man of men, attested Son of God,
Temptation and all guile on him to try,
So to subvert whom he suspected rais’d
To end his Raign on Earth so long enjoy’d: [ 125 ]
But contrary unweeting he fulfill’d
The purpos’d Counsel pre-ordain’d and fixt
Of the most High, who in full frequence bright
Of Angels, thus to Gabriel smiling spake.

Gabriel, this day by proof thou shalt behold, [ 130 ]
Thou and all Angels conversant on Earth
With man or mens affairs, how I begin
To verifie that solemn message late,
On which I sent thee to the Virgin pure
In Galilee, that she should bear a Son [ 135 ]
Great in Renown, and call’d the Son of God;
Then toldst her doubting how these things could be
To her a Virgin, that on her should come
The Holy Ghost, and the power of the highest
O’re-shadow her: this man born and now upgrown, [ 140 ]
To shew him worthy of his birth divine
And high prediction, henceforth I expose
To Satan; let him tempt and now assay
His utmost subtilty, because he boasts
And vaunts of his great cunning to the throng [ 145 ]
Of his Apostasie; he might have learnt
Less over-weening, since he fail’d in Job,
Whose constant perseverance overcame
Whate’re his cruel malice could invent.
He now shall know I can produce a man, [ 150 ]
Of female Seed, far abler to resist
All his sollicitations, and at length
All his vast force, and drive him back to Hell,
Winning by Conquest what the first man lost
By fallacy surpriz’d. But first I mean [ 155 ]
To exercise him in the Wilderness,
There he shall first lay down the rudiments
Of his great warfare, e’re I send him forth
To conquer Sin and Death the two grand foes,
By Humiliation and strong Sufferance: [ 160 ]
His weakness shall o’recome Satanic strength
And all the world, and mass of sinful flesh;
That all the Angels and Æthereal Powers,
They now, and men hereafter may discern,
From what consummate vertue I have chose [ 165 ]
This perfect Man, by merit call’d my Son,
To earn Salvation for the Sons of men.

So spake the Eternal Father, and all Heaven
Admiring stood a space, then into Hymns
Burst forth, and in Celestial measures mov’d, [ 170 ]
Circling the Throne and Singing, while the hand
Sung with the voice, and this the argument.

Victory and triumph to the Son of God
Now entring his great duel, not of arms,
But to vanquish by wisdom hellish wiles. [ 175 ]
The Father knows the Son; therefore secure
Ventures his filial Vertue, though untri’d,
Against whate’re may tempt, whate’re seduce,
Allure, or terrifie, or undermine.
Be frustrate, all ye stratagems of Hell, [ 180 ]
And devilish machinations come to nought.

So they in Heav’n their Odes and Vigils tun’d:
Mean while the Son of God, who yet some days
Lodg’d in Bethabara where John baptiz’d,
Musing and much revolving in his brest, [ 185 ]
How best the mighty work he might begin
Of Saviour to mankind, and which way first
Publish his God-like office now mature,
One day forth walk’d alone, the Spirit leading;
And his deep thoughts, the better to converse [ 190 ]
With solitude, till far from track of men,
Thought following thought, and step by step led on,
He entred now the bordering Desert wild,
And with dark shades and rocks environ’d round,
His holy Meditations thus pursu’d. [ 195 ]

O what a multitude of thoughts at once
Awakn’d in me swarm, while I consider
What from within I feel my self, and hear
What from without comes often to my ears,
Ill sorting with my present state compar’d. [ 200 ]
When I was yet a child, no childish play
To me was pleasing, all my mind was set
Serious to learn and know, and thence to do
What might be publick good; my self I thought
Born to that end, born to promote all truth, [ 205 ]
All righteous things: therefore above my years,
The Law of God I read, and found it sweet,
Made it my whole delight, and in it grew
To such perfection, that e’re yet my age
Had measur’d twice six years, at our great Feast [ 210 ]
I went into the Temple, there to hear
The Teachers of our Law, and to propose
What might improve my knowledge or their own;
And was admir’d by all: yet this not all
To which my Spirit aspir’d; victorious deeds [ 215 ]
Flam’d in my heart, heroic acts; one while
To rescue Israel from the Roman yoke,
Then to subdue and quell o’re all the earth
Brute violence and proud Tyrannick pow’r,
Till truth were freed, and equity restor’d: [ 220 ]
Yet held it more humane, more heavenly, first
By winning words to conquer willing hearts,
And make perswasion do the work of fear;
At least to try, and teach the erring Soul
Not wilfully mis-doing, but unware [ 225 ]
Misled; the stubborn only to subdue.
These growing thoughts my Mother soon perceiving
By words at times cast forth inly rejoyc’d,
And said to me apart, high are thy thoughts
O Son, but nourish them and let them soar [ 230 ]
To what highth sacred vertue and true worth
Can raise them, though above example high;
By matchless Deeds express thy matchless Sire.
For know, thou art no Son of mortal man;
Though men esteem thee low of Parentage, [ 235 ]
Thy Father is the Eternal King, who rules
All Heaven and Earth, Angels and Sons of men,
A messenger from God fore-told thy birth
Conceiv’d in me a Virgin; he fore-told
Thou shouldst be great and sit on David’s Throne, [ 240 ]
And of thy Kingdom there should be no end.
At thy Nativity a glorious Quire
Of Angels in the fields of Bethlehem sung
To Shepherds watching at their folds by night,
And told them the Messiah now was born, [ 245 ]
Where they might see him, and to thee they came,
Directed to the Manger where thou lais’t;
For in the Inn was left no better room:
A Star, not seen before in Heaven appearing
Guided the Wise Men thither from the East, [ 250 ]
To honour thee with Incense, Myrrh, and Gold,
By whose bright course led on they found the place,
Affirming it thy Star, new grav’n in Heaven,
By which they knew thee King of Israel born.
Just Simeon and Prophetic Anna, warn’d [ 255 ]
By Vision, found thee in the Temple, and spake
Before the Altar and the vested Priest,
Like things of thee to all that present stood.
This having heard, strait I again revolv’d
The Law and Prophets, searching what was writ [ 260 ]
Concerning the Messiah, to our Scribes
Known partly, and soon found of whom they spake
I am; this chiefly, that my way must lie
Through many a hard assay even to the death,
E’re I the promis’d Kingdom can attain, [ 265 ]
Or work Redemption for mankind, whose sins
Full weight must be transferr’d upon my head.
Yet neither thus disheartn’d or dismay’d,
The time prefixt I waited, when behold
The Baptist, (of whose birth I oft had heard, [ 270 ]
Not knew by sight) now come, who was to come
Before Messiah and his way prepare.
I as all others to his Baptism came,
Which I believ’d was from above; but he
Strait knew me, and with loudest voice proclaim’d [ 275 ]
Me him (for it was shew’n him so from Heaven)
Me him whose Harbinger he was; and first
Refus’d on me his Baptism to confer,
As much his greater, and was hardly won;
But as I rose out of the laving stream, [ 280 ]
Heaven open’d her eternal doors, from whence
The Spirit descended on me like a Dove,
And last the sum of all, my Father’s voice,
Audibly heard from Heav’n, pronounc’d me his,
Me his beloved Son, in whom alone [ 285 ]
He was well pleas’d; by which I knew the time
Now full, that I no more should live obscure,
But openly begin, as best becomes
The Authority which I deriv’d from Heaven.
And now by some strong motion I am led [ 290 ]
Into this Wilderness, to what intent
I learn not yet, perhaps I need not know;
For what concerns my knowledge God reveals.

So spake our Morning Star then in his rise,
And looking round on every side beheld [ 295 ]
A pathless Desert, dusk with horrid shades;
The way he came not having mark’d, return
Was difficult, by humane steps untrod;
And he still on was led, but with such thoughts
Accompanied of things past and to come [ 300 ]
Lodg’d in his brest, as well might recommend
Such solitude before choicest Society.
Full forty days he pass’d, whether on hill
Sometimes, anon in shady vale, each night
Under the covert of some ancient Oak, [ 305 ]
Or Cedar, to defend him from the dew,
Or harbour’d in one Cave, is not reveal’d;
Nor tasted humane food, nor hunger felt
Till those days ended, hunger’d then at last
Among wild Beasts: they at his sight grew mild, [ 310 ]
Nor sleeping him nor waking harm’d, his walk
The fiery Serpent fled and noxious Worm,
The Lion and fierce Tiger glar’d aloof.
But now an aged man in Rural weeds,
Following, as seem’d, the quest of some stray Ewe, [ 315 ]
Or wither’d sticks to gather; which might serve
Against a Winters day when winds blow keen,
To warm him wet return’d from field at Eve,
He saw approach; who first with curious eye
Perus’d him, then with words thus utt’red spake. [ 320 ]

Sir, what ill chance hath brought thee to this place
So far from path or road of men, who pass
In Troop or Caravan, for single none
Durst ever, who return’d, and dropt not here
His Carcass, pin’d with hunger and with droughth? [ 325 ]
I ask the rather, and the more admire,
For that to me thou seem’st the man, whom late
Our new baptizing Prophet at the Ford
Of Jordan honour’d so, and call’d thee Son
Of God; I saw and heard, for we sometimes [ 330 ]
Who dwell this wild, constrain’d by want, come forth
To Town or Village nigh (nighest is far)
Where ought we hear, and curious are to hear,
What happ’ns new; Fame also finds us out.

To whom the Son of God. Who brought me hither [ 335 ]
Will bring me hence, no other Guide I seek.

By Miracle he may, reply’d the Swain,
What other way I see not, for we here
Live on tough roots and stubs, to thirst inur’d
More then the Camel, and to drink go far, [ 340 ]
Men to much misery and hardship born;
But if thou be the Son of God, Command
That out of these hard stones be made thee bread;
So shalt thou save thyself and us relieve
With Food, whereof we wretched seldom taste. [ 345 ]

He ended, and the Son of God reply’d.
Think’st thou such force in Bread? is it not written
(For I discern thee other then thou seem’st)
Man lives not by Bread only, but each Word
Proceeding from the mouth of God; who fed [ 350 ]
Our Fathers here with Manna; in the Mount
Moses was forty days, nor eat nor drank,
And forty days Eliah without food
Wandred this barren waste; the same I now:
Why dost thou then suggest to me distrust, [ 355 ]
Knowing who I am, as I know who thou art?

Whom thus answer’d th’ Arch Fiend now undisguis’d.
‘Tis true, I am that Spirit unfortunate,
Who leagu’d with millions more in rash revolt
Kept not my happy Station, but was driv’n [ 360 ]
With them from bliss to the bottomless deep,
Yet to that hideous place not so confin’d
By rigour unconniving, but that oft
Leaving my dolorous Prison I enjoy
Large liberty to round this Globe of Earth, [ 365 ]
Or range in th’ Air, nor from the Heav’n of Heav’ns
Hath he excluded my resort sometimes.
I came among the Sons of God, when he
Gave up into my hands Uzzean Job
To prove him, and illustrate his high worth; [ 370 ]
And when to all his Angels he propos’d
To draw the proud King Ahab into fraud
That he might fall in Ramoth, they demurring,
I undertook that office, and the tongues
Of all his flattering Prophets glibb’d with lyes [ 375 ]
To his destruction, as I had in charge.
For what he bids I do; though I have lost
Much lustre of my native brightness, lost
To be belov’d of God, I have not lost
To love, at least contemplate and admire [ 380 ]
What I see excellent in good, or fair,
Or vertuous, I should so have lost all sense.
What can be then less in me then desire
To see thee and approach thee, whom I know
Declar’d the Son of God, to hear attent [ 385 ]
Thy wisdom, and behold thy God-like deeds?
Men generally think me much a foe
To all mankind: why should I? they to me
Never did wrong or violence, by them
I lost not what I lost, rather by them [ 390 ]
I gain’d what I have gain’d, and with them dwell
Copartner in these Regions of the World,
If not disposer; lend them oft my aid,
Oft my advice by presages and signs,
And answers, oracles, portents and dreams, [ 395 ]
Whereby they may direct their future life.
Envy they say excites me, thus to gain
Companions of my misery and wo.
At first it may be; but long since with wo
Nearer acquainted, now I feel by proof, [ 400 ]
That fellowship in pain divides not smart,
Nor lightens aught each mans peculiar load.
Small consolation then, were Man adjoyn’d:
This wounds me most (what can it less) that Man,
Man fall’n, shall be restor’d, I never more. [ 405 ]

To whom our Saviour sternly thus reply’d.
Deservedly thou griev’st, compos’d of lyes
From the beginning, and in lies wilt end;
Who boast’st release from Hell, and leave to come
Into the Heav’n of Heavens; thou com’st indeed, [ 410 ]
As a poor miserable captive thrall,
Comes to the place where he before had sat
Among the Prime in Splendour, now depos’d,
Ejected, emptyed, gaz’d, unpityed, shun’d,
A spectacle of ruin or of scorn [ 415 ]
To all the Host of Heaven; the happy place
Imparts to thee no happiness, no joy,
Rather inflames thy torment, representing
Lost bliss, to thee no more communicable,
So never more in Hell then when in Heaven. [ 420 ]
But thou art serviceable to Heaven’s King.
Wilt thou impute to obedience what thy fear
Extorts, or pleasure to do ill excites?
What but thy malice mov’d thee to misdeem
Of righteous Job, then cruelly to afflict him [ 425 ]
With all inflictions? But his patience won?
The other service was thy chosen task,
To be a lyer in four hundred mouths;
For lying is thy sustenance, thy food.
Yet thou pretend’st to truth; all Oracles [ 430 ]
By thee are giv’n, and what confest more true
Among the Nations? That hath been thy craft,
By mixing somewhat true to vent more lyes.
But what have been thy answers, what but dark
Ambiguous and with double sense deluding, [ 435 ]
Which they who ask’d have seldom understood,
And, not well understood, as good not known?
Who ever by consulting at thy shrine
Return’d the wiser, or the more instruct
To flye or follow what concern’d him most, [ 440 ]
And run not sooner to his fatal snare?
For God hath justly giv’n the Nations up
To thy Delusions; justly, since they fell
Idolatrous; but when his purpose is
Among them to declare his Providence [ 445 ]
To thee not known, whence hast thou then thy truth,
But from him, or his Angels President
In every Province, who themselves disdaining
To approach thy Temples, give thee in command
What to the smallest tittle thou shalt say [ 450 ]
To thy Adorers; thou with trembling fear,
Or like a Fawning Parasite obey’st;
Then to thyself ascrib’st the truth fore-told.
But this thy glory shall be soon retrench’d;
No more shalt thou by oracling abuse [ 455 ]
The Gentiles; henceforth Oracles are ceast,
And thou no more with Pomp and Sacrifice
Shalt be enquir’d at Delphos or elsewhere,
At least in vain, for they shall find thee mute.
God hath now sent his living Oracle [ 460 ]
Into the World, to teach his final will,
And sends his Spirit of Truth henceforth to dwell
In pious Hearts, an inward Oracle
To all truth requisite for men to know.

So spake our Saviour; but the subtle Fiend, [ 465 ]
Though inly stung with anger and disdain,
Dissembl’d, and this Answer smooth return’d.

Sharply thou hast insisted on rebuke,
And urg’d me hard with doings, which not will
But misery hath rested from me; where [ 470 ]
Easily canst thou find one miserable,
And not inforc’d oft-times to part from truth;
If it may stand him more in stead to lye,
Say and unsay, feign, flatter, or abjure?
But thou art plac’t above me, thou art Lord; [ 475 ]
From thee I can and must submiss endure
Check or reproof, and glad to scape so quit.
Hard are the ways of truth, and rough to walk,
Smooth on the tongue discourst, pleasing to th’ ear,
And tuneable as Silvan Pipe or Song; [ 480 ]
What wonder then if I delight to hear
Her dictates from thy mouth? most men admire
Vertue, who follow not her lore: permit me
To hear thee when I come (since no man comes)
And talk at least, though I despair to attain. [ 485 ]
Thy Father, who is holy, wise and pure,
Suffers the Hypocrite or Atheous Priest
To tread his Sacred Courts, and minister
About his Altar, handling holy things,
Praying or vowing, and vouchsaf’d his voice [ 490 ]
To Balaam Reprobate, a Prophet yet
Inspir’d; disdain not such access to me.

To whom our Saviour with unalter’d brow.
Thy coming hither, though I know thy scope,
I bid not or forbid; do as thou find’st [ 495 ]
Permission from above; thou canst not more.

He added not; and Satan bowing low
His gray dissimulation, disappear’d
Into thin Air diffus’d: for now began
Night with her sullen wing to double-shade [ 500 ]
The Desert; Fowls in thir clay nests were couch’t;
And now wild Beasts came forth the woods to roam.