John Milton, Paradise Lost. Book Four (1674)
THE
ARGUMENT.—Satan, now in prospect of Eden,
and nigh the place where he must now attempt the bold enterprise which he
undertook alone against God and Man, falls into many doubts with himself, and
many passions—fear, envy, and despair; but at length confirms himself in evil;
journeys on to Paradise, whose outward prospect and situation is described;
overleaps the bounds; sits, in the shape of a Cormorant, on the Tree of Life,
as highest in the Garden, to look about him. The Garden described; Satan’s
first sight of Adam and Eve; his wonder at their excellent form and happy
state, but with resolution to work their fall; overhears their discourse;
thence gathers that the Tree of Knowledge was forbidden them to eat of under
penalty of death, and thereon intends to found his temptation by seducing them
to transgress; then leaves them a while, to know further of their state by some
other means. Meanwhile Uriel, descending on a sunbeam, warns Gabriel, who had
in charge the gate of Paradise, that some evil Spirit had escaped the Deep, and
passed at noon by his Sphere, in the shape of a good Angel, down to Paradise,
discovered after by his furious gestures in the Mount. Gabriel promises to find
him ere morning. Night coming on, Adam and Eve discourse of going to their
rest; their bower described; their evening worship. Gabriel, drawing forth his
bands of night—watch to walk the rounds of Paradise, appoints two strong Angels
to Adam’s bower, lest the evil Spirit should be there doing some harm to Adam
or Eve sleeping: there they find him at the ear of Eve, tempting her in a
dream, and bring him, though unwilling, to Gabriel; by whom questioned, he
scornfully answers; prepares resistance; but, hindered by a sign from Heaven,
flies out of Paradise.
O FOR that warning voice, which he who saw
The Apocalypse heard cry
in Heaven aloud,
Then when the Dragon,
put to second rout,
Came furious down to be
revenged on men,
Woe to the
inhabitants on Earth! that now, 5
While time was, our
first parents had been warned
The coming of their
secret Foe, and scaped,
Haply so scaped, his
mortal snare! For now
Satan, now first
inflamed with rage, came down,
The tempter, ere the
accuser, of mankind, 10
To wreak on innocent
frail Man his loss
Of that first battle,
and his flight to Hell.
Yet not rejoicing in his
speed, though bold
Far off and fearless,
nor with cause to boast,
Begins his dire attempt;
which, nigh the birth 15
Now rowling, boils in
his tumultuous breast,
And like a devilish
engine back recoils
Upon himself. Horror and
doubt distract
His troubled thoughts,
and from the bottom stir
The hell within him; for
within him Hell 20
He brings, and round
about him, nor from Hell
One step, no more than
from Himself, can fly
By change of place. Now
conscience wakes despair
That slumbered; wakes
the bitter memory
Of what he was, what is,
and what must be 25
Worse; of worse deeds
worse sufferings must ensue!
Sometimes towards Eden,
which now in his view
Lay pleasant, his
grieved look he fixes sad;
Sometimes towards Heaven
and the full-blazing Sun,
Which now sat high in
his meridian tower: 30
Then, much revolving,
thus in sighs began:—
“O thou
that, with surpassing glory crowned,
Look’st from thy sole
dominion like the god
Of this new World—at
whose sight all the stars
Hide their diminished
heads—to thee I call, 35
But with no friendly
voice, and add thy name,
O Sun, to tell thee how
I hate thy beams,
That bring to my
remembrance from what state
I fell, how glorious
once above thy sphere,
Till pride and worse
ambition threw me down, 40
Warring in Heaven
against Heaven’s matchless King!
Ah, wherefore? He
deserved no such return
From me, whom he created
what I was
In that bright eminence,
and with his good
Upbraided none; nor was
his service hard. 45
What could be less than
to afford him praise,
The easiest recompense,
and pay him thanks,
How due? Yet all his
good proved ill in me,
And wrought but malice.
Lifted up so high,
I ’sdained subjection,
and thought one step higher 50
Would set me highest,
and in a moment quit
The debt immense of
endless gratitude,
So burthensome, still
paying, still to owe;
Forgetful what from him
I still received;
And understood not that
a grateful mind 55
By owing owes not, but
still pays, at once
Indebted and
discharged—what burden then?
Oh, had his powerful
destiny ordained
Me some inferior Angel,
I had stood
Then happy; no unbounded
hope had raised 60
Ambition. Yet why not?
Some other Power
As great might have
aspired, and me, though mean,
Drawn to his part. But
other Powers as great
Fell not, but stand
unshaken, from within
Or from without to all
temptations armed! 65
Hadst thou the same free
will and power to stand?
Thou hadst. Whom has
thou then, or what, to accuse,
But Heaven’s free love
dealt equally to all?
Be then his love
accursed, since, love or hate,
To me alike it deals
eternal woe. 70
Nay, cursed be thou;
since against his thy will
Chose freely what it now
so justly rues.
Me miserable! which way
shall I fly
Infinite wrauth and
infinite despair?
Which way I fly is Hell;
myself am Hell; 75
And, in the lowest deep,
a lower deep
Still threatening to
devour me opens wide,
To which the Hell I
suffer seems a Heaven.
O, then, at last relent!
Is there no place
Left for repentence,
none for pardon left? 80
None left but by
submission; and that word
Disdain forbids me, and
my dread of shame
Among the Spirits
beneath, whom I seduced
With other promises and
other vaunts
Than to submit, boasting
I could subdue 85
The Omnipotent. Aye me!
they little know
How dearly I abide that
boast so vain,
Under what torments
inwardly I groan.
While they adore me on
the throne of Hell,
With diadem and sceptre
high advanced, 90
The lower still I fall,
only supreme
In misery: such joy
ambition finds!
But say I could repent,
and could obtain,
By act of grace, my
former state; how soon
Would highth recal high
thoughts, how soon unsay 95
What feigned submission
swore! Ease would recant
Vows made in pain, as
violent and void
(For never can true
reconcilement grow
Where wounds of deadly
hate have pierced so deep)
Which would but lead me
to a worse relapse 100
And heavier fall: so
should I purchase dear
Short intermission,
bought with double smart.
This knows my Punisher;
therefore as far
From granting he, as I
from begging, peace.
All hope excluded thus,
behold, instead 105
Of us, outcast, exiled,
his new delight,
Mankind, created, and
for him this World!
So farewell hope, and,
with hope, farewell fear,
Farewell remorse! All
good to me is lost;
Evil, be thou my Good:
by thee at least 110
Divided empire with
Heaven’s King I hold,
By thee, and more than
half perhaps will reign;
As Man ere long, and
this new World, shall know.”
Thus while
he spake, each passion dimmed his face,
Thrice changed with
pale—ire, envy, and despair; 115
Which marred his
borrowed visage, and betrayed
Him counterfeit, if any
eye beheld:
For Heavenly minds from
such distempers foul
Are ever clear. Whereof
he soon aware
Each perturbation
smoothed with outward calm, 120
Artificer of fraud; and
was the first
That practised falsehood
under saintly shew,
Deep malice to conceal,
couched with revenge:
Yet not enough had
practised to deceive
Uriel, once warned;
whose eye pursued him down 125
The way he went, and on
the Assyrian mount
Saw him disfigured, more
than could befall
Spirit of happy sort:
his gestures fierce
He marked and mad
demeanour, then alone,
As he supposed, all
unobserved, unseen. 130
So on he
fares, and to the border comes
Of Eden, where delicious
Paradise,
Now nearer, crowns with
her enclosure green,
As with a rural mound,
the champain head
Of a steep wilderness
whose hairy sides 135
With thicket overgrown,
grotesque and wild.
Access denied; and
overhead up-grew
Insuperable highth of
loftiest shade,
Cedar, and pine, and
fir, and branching palm,
A sylvan scene, and, as
the ranks ascend 140
Shade above shade, a
woody theatre
Of stateliest view. Yet
higher than their tops
The verdurous wall of
Paradise up-sprung;
Which to our general
Sire gave prospect large
Into his nether empire
neighbouring round. 145
And higher than that
wall a circling row
Of goodliest trees,
loaden with fairest fruit,
Blossoms and fruits at
once of golden hue,
Appeared, with gay
enamelled colours mixed;
On which the sun more
glad impressed his beams 150
Than in fair evening
cloud, or humid bow,
When God hath showered
the earth; so lovely seemed
That lantskip. And of
pure now purer air
Meets his approach, and
to the heart inspires
Vernal delight and joy,
able to drive 155
All sadness but despair.
Now gentle gales,
Fanning their
odoriferous wings, dispense
Native perfumes, and
whisper whence they stole
Those balmy spoils. As
when to them who sail
Beyond the Cape of Hope,
and now are past 160
Mozambic, off at sea
north-east winds blow
Sabean odours from the
spicy shore
Of Araby the Blest, with
such delay
Well pleased they slack
their course, and many a league
Cheered with the
grateful smell old Ocean smiles; 165
So entertained those
odorous sweets the Fiend
Who came their bane,
though with them better pleased
Than Asmodeus with the
fishy fume
That drove him, though
enamoured, from the spouse
Of Tobit’s son, and with
a vengeance sent 170
From Media post to
Ægypt, there fast bound.
Now to the
ascent of that steep savage hill
Satan had journeyed on,
pensive and slow;
But further way found
none; so thick entwined,
As one continued brake,
the undergrowth 175
Of shrubs and tangling
bushes had perplexed
All path of man or beast
that passed that way.
One gate there only was,
and that looked east
On the other side. Which
when the Arch-Felon saw,
Due entrance he
disdained, and, in contempt, 180
At one slight bound high
overleaped all bound
Of hill or highest wall,
and sheer within
Lights on his feet. As
when a prowling wolf,
Whom hunger drives to
seek new haunt for prey,
Watching where shepherds
pen their flocks at eve, 185
In hurdled cotes amid
the field secure,
Leaps o’er the fence
with ease into the fold;
Or as a thief, bent to
unhoard the cash
Of some rich burgher,
whose substantial doors,
Cross-barred and bolted
fast, fear no assault, 190
In at the window climbs,
or o’er the tiles;
So climb this first
grand Thief into God’s fold:
So since into his Church
lewd hirelings climb.
Thence up he flew, and
on the Tree of Life,
The middle tree and
highest there that grew, 195
Sat like a Cormorant;
yet not true life
Thereby regained, but
sat devising death
To them who lived; nor
on the virtue thought
Of that life-giving
plant, but only used
For prospect what, well
used, had been the pledge 200
Of immortality. So
little knows
Any, but God alone, to
value right
The good before him, but
perverts best things
To worst abuse, or to
their meanest use.
Beneath him, with new
wonder, now he views, 205
To all delight of human
sense exposed,
In narrow room Nature’s
whole wealth; yea, more—
A Heaven on Earth: for
blissful Paradise
Of God the garden was,
by him in the east
Of Eden planted. Eden
stretched her line 210
From Auran eastward to
the royal towers
Of great Seleucia, built
by Grecian kings,
Or where the sons of
Eden long before
Dwelt in Telassar. In
this pleasant soil
His far more pleasant
garden God ordained. 215
Out of the fertile
ground he caused to grow
All trees of noblest
kind for sight, smell, taste;
And all amid them stood
the Tree of Life,
High eminent, blooming
ambrosial fruit
Of vegetable gold; and
next to life, 220
Our death, the Tree of
Knowledge, grew fast by—
Knowledge of good,
bought dear by knowing ill.
Southward through Eden
went a river large,
Nor changed his course,
but through the shaggy hill
Passed underneath
ingulfed; for God had thrown 225
That mountain, as his
garden-mould, high raised
Upon the rapid current,
which, through veins
Of porous earth with
kindly thirst updrawn,
Rose a fresh fountain,
and with many a rill
Watered the garden;
thence united fell 230
Down the steep glade,
and met the nether flood,
Which from his darksome
passage now appears,
And now, divided into
four main streams,
Runs diverse, wandering
many a famous realm
And country whereof here
needs no account; 235
But rather to tell how,
if Art could tell
How, from that sapphire
fount the crisped brooks,
Rowling on orient pearl
and sands of gold,
With mazy error under
pendant shades
Ran nectar, visiting
each plant, and fed 240
Flowers worthy of
Paradise, which not nice Art
In beds and curious
knots, but Nature boon
Poured forth profuse on
hill, and dale, and plain,
Both where the morning
sun first warmly smote
The open field, and
where the unpierced shade 245
Imbrowned the noontide
bowers. Thus was this place,
A happy rural seat of
various view:
Groves whose rich trees
wept odorous gums and balm,
Others whose fruit,
burnished with golden rind,
Hung amiable—Hesperian
fables true, 250
If true, here only—and
of delicious taste.
Betwixt them lawns, or
level downs, and flocks
Grazing the tender herb,
were interposed,
Or palmy hillock; or the
flowery lap
Of some irriguous valley
spread her store, 255
Flowers of all hue, and
without thorn the rose.
Another side, umbrageous
grots and caves
Of cool recess, o’er
which the mantling vine
Lays forth her purple
grape, and gently creeps
Luxuriant; meanwhile
murmuring waters fall 260
Down the slope hills
dispersed, or in a lake,
That to the fringèd bank
with myrtle crowned
Her crystal mirror
holds, unite their streams.
The birds their quire
apply; airs, vernal airs,
Breathing the smell of
field and grove, attune 265
The trembling leaves,
while universal Pan,
Knit with the Graces and
the Hours in dance,
Led on the eternal
Spring. Not that fair field
Of Enna, where Proserpin
gathering flowers,
Herself a fairer flower,
by gloomy Dis 270
Was gathered—which cost
Ceres all that pain
To seek her through the
world—nor that sweet grove
Of Daphne, by Orontes
and the inspired
Castalian spring, might
with this Paradise
Of Eden strive; nor that
Nyseian isle, 275
Girt with the river
Triton, where old Cham,
Whom Gentiles Ammon call
and Libyan Jove,
Hid Amalthea, and her
florid son,
Young Bacchus, from his
stepdame Rhea’s eye;
Nor, where Abassin kings
their issue guard, 280
Mount Amara (though this
by some supposed
True Paradise) under the
Ethiop line
By Nilus’ head, enclosed
with shining rock,
A whole day’s journey
high, but wide remote
From this Assyrian
garden, where the Fiend 285
Saw undelighted all
delight, all kind
Of living creatures, new
to sight and strange.
Two of far nobler shape,
erect and tall,
God—like erect, with
native honour clad
In naked majesty, seemed
lords of all, 290
And worthy seemed; for
in their looks divine
The image of their
glorious Maker shon,
Truth, wisdom,
sanctitude severe and pure—
Severe, but in true
filial freedom placed,
Whence true authority in
men: though both 295
Not equal, as their sex
not equal seemed;
For contemplation he and
valour formed,
For softness she and
sweet attractive grace;
He for God only, she for
God in him.
His fair large front and
eye sublime declared 300
Absolute rule; and
Hyacinthin locks
Round from his parted
forelock manly hung
Clustering, but not
beneath his shoulders broad:
She, as a veil down to
the slender waist,
Her unadornèd golden
tresses wore 305
Dishevelled, but in
wanton ringlets waved
As the vine curls her
tendrils—which implied
Subjection, but required
with gentle sway,
And by her yielded, by
him best received—
Yielded, with coy
submission, modest pride, 310
And sweet, reluctant,
amorous delay.
Nor those mysterious
parts were then concealed:
Then was not guilty
shame. Dishonest shame
Of Nature’s works,
honour dishonourable,
Sin-bred, how have ye
troubled all mankind 315
With shews instead, mere
shews of seeming pure
And banished from man’s
life his happiest life,
Simplicity and spotless
innocence!
So passed they naked on,
nor shunned the sight
Of God or Angel; for
they thought no ill: 320
So hand in hand they
passed, the loveliest pair
That ever since in
love’s embraces met—
Adam the goodliest man
of men since born
His sons; the fairest of
her daughters Eve.
Under a tuft of shade
that on a green 325
Stood whispering soft,
by a fresh fountain—side.
They sat them down; and,
after no more toil
Of their sweet gardening
labour than sufficed
To recommend cool
Zephyr, and make ease
More easy, wholesome
thirst and appetite 330
More grateful, to their
supper-fruits they fell—
Nectarine fruits, which
the complaint boughs
Yielded them, sidelong
as they sat recline
On the soft downy bank
damasked with flowers.
The savoury pulp they
chew, and in the rind, 335
Still as they thirsted,
scoop the brimming stream
Nor gentle purpose, nor
endearing smiles
Wanted, nor youthful
dalliance, as beseems
Fair couple linked in
happy nuptial league,
Alone as they. About
them frisking played 340
All beasts of the earth,
since wild, and of all chase
In wood or wilderness,
forest or den.
Sporting the lion
ramped, and in his paw
Dandled the kid; bears,
tigers, ounces, pards,
Gambolled before them;
the unwieldy elephant, 345
To make them mirth, used
all his might, and wreathed
His lithe proboscis;
close the serpent sly,
Insinuating, wove with
Gordian twine
His breaded train, and
of his fatal guile
Gave proof unheeded.
Others on the grass 350
Couched, and, now filled
with pasture, gazing sat,
Or bedward ruminating;
for the sun,
Declined, was hastening
now with prone career
To the Ocean Isles, and
in the ascending scale
Of Heaven the stars that
usher evening rose: 355
When Satan, still in
gaze as first he stood,
Scarce thus at length
failed speech recovered sad:—
“O Hell!
what do mine eyes with grief behold?
Into our room of bliss
thus high advanced
Creatures of other
mould—Earth-born perhaps, 360
Not Spirits, yet to
Heavenly Spirits bright
Little inferior—whom my
thoughts pursue
With wonder, and could
love; so lively shines
In them divine
resemblance, and such grace
The hand that formed
them on their shape hath poured. 365
Ah! gentle pair, ye
little think how nigh
Your change approaches,
when all these delights
Will vanish, and deliver
ye to woe—
More woe, the more your
taste is now of joy:
Happy, but for so happy
ill secured 370
Long to continue, and
this high seat, your Heaven,
Ill fenced for Heaven to
keep out such a foe
As now is entered; yet
no purposed foe
To you, whom I could
pity thus forlorn,
Though I unpitied.
League with you I seek, 375
And mutual amity, so
strait, so close,
That I with you must
dwell, or you with me,
Henceforth. My dwelling,
haply, may not please,
Like this fair Paradise,
your sense; yet such
Accept your Marker’s
work; he gave it me, 380
Which I as freely give.
Hell shall unfold,
To entertain you two,
her widest gates,
And send forth all her
kings; there will be room,
Not like these narrow
limits, to receive
Your numerous offspring;
if no better place, 385
Thank him who puts me,
loath, to this revenge
On you, who wrong me
not, for him who wronged.
And, should I at your
harmless innocence
Melt, as I do, yet
public reason just—
Honour and empire with
revenge enlarged 390
By conquering this new
World—compels me now
To do what else, though
damned, I should abhor.”
So spake the
Fiend, and with necessity,
The tyrant’s plea,
excused his devilish deeds.
Then from his lofty
stand on that high tree 395
Down he alights among
the sportful herd
Of those four-footed
kinds, himself now one,
Now other, as their
shape served best his end
Nearer to view his prey,
and, unespied,
To mark what of their
state he more might learn 400
By word or action
marked. About them round
A lion now he stalks
with fiery glare;
Then as a tiger, who by
chance hath spied
In some pourlieu two
gentle fawns at play,
Straight crouches close;
then rising, changes oft 405
His couchant watch, as
one who chose his ground,
Whence rushing he might
surest seize them both
Griped in each paw: when
Adam, first of men.
To first of women, Eve,
thus moving speech,
Turned him all ear to
hear new utterance flow:— 410
“Sole
partner and sole part of all these joys,
Dearer thyself than all,
needs must the Power
That made us, and for us
this ample World,
Be infinitely good, and
of his good
As liberal and free as
infinite; 415
That raised us from the
dust, and placed us here
In all this happiness,
who at this hand
Have nothing merited,
nor can perform
Aught whereof he hath
need; he who requires
From us no other service
than to keep 420
This one, this easy
charge—of all the trees
In Paradise that bear
delicious fruit
So various, not to taste
that only Tree
Of Knowledge, planted by
the Tree of Life;
So near grows Death to
Life, whate’er Death is— 425
Some dreadful thing no
doubt; for well thou know’st
God hath pronounced it
Death to taste that Tree:
The only sign of our
obedience left
Among so many signs of
power and rule
Conferred upon us, and
dominion given 430
Over all other creatures
that possess
Earth, Air, and Sea.
Then let us not think hard
One easy prohibition,
who enjoy
Free leave so large to
all things else, and choice
Unlimited of manifold
delights; 435
But let us ever praise
him, and extol
His bounty, following
our delightful task,
To prune these growing
plants, and tend these flowers;
Which, were it toilsome,
yet with thee were sweet.”
To whom thus
Eve replied:—“O thou for whom 440
And from whom I was
formed flesh of thy flesh,
And without whom am to
no end, my guide
And head! what thou hast
said is just and right.
For we to him, indeed,
all praises owe,
And daily thanks—I
chiefly, who enjoy 445
So far the happier lot,
enjoying thee
Pre-eminent by so much
odds, while thou
Like consort to thyself
canst nowhere find.
That day I oft remember,
when from sleep
I first awaked, and
found myself reposed, 450
Under a shade, on
flowers, much wondering where
And what I was, whence
thither brought, and how.
Not distant far from
thence a murmuring sound
Of waters issued from a
cave, and spread
Into a liquid plain;
then stood unmoved, 455
Pure as the expanse of
Heaven. I thither went
With unexperienced
thought, and laid me down
On the green bank, to
look into the clear
Smooth lake, that to me
seemed another sky.
As I bent down to look,
just opposite 460
A Shape within the
watery gleam appeared,
Bending to look on me. I
started back,
It started back; but
pleased I soon returned
Pleased it returned as
soon with answering looks
Of sympathy and love.
There I had fixed 465
Mine eyes till now, and
pined with vain desire,
Had not a voice thus
warned me: ‘What thou seest,
What there thou seest,
fair creature, is thyself;
With thee it came and
goes: but follow me,
And I will bring thee
where no shadow stays 470
Thy coming, and thy soft
imbraces—he
Whose image thou art;
him thou shalt enjoy
Inseparably thine; to
him shalt bear
Multitudes like thyself,
and thence be called
Mother of human race.’
What could I do, 475
But follow straight,
invisibly thus led?
Till I espied thee,
fair, indeed, and tall,
Under a platan; yet
methought less fair,
Less winning soft, less
amiably mild,
That that smooth watery
image. Back I turned; 480
Thou, following,
cried’st aloud, ‘Return, fair Eve;
Whom fliest thou? Whom
thou fliest, of him thou art,
His flesh, his bone, to
give thee being I lent
Out of my side to thee,
nearest my heart,
Substantial life, to
have thee by my side 485
Henceforth an individual
solace dear:
Part of my soul I seek
thee, and thee claim
My other half.’ With
that thy gentle hand
Seized mine: I yielded,
and from that time see
How beauty is excelled
by manly grace 490
And wisdom, which alone
is truly fair.”
So spake our
general mother, and, with eyes
Of conjugal attraction
unreproved,
And meek surrender,
half-embracing leaned
On our first father;
half her swelling breast 495
Naked met his, under the
flowing gold
Of her loose tresses
hid. He, in delight
Both of her beauty and
submissive charms,
Smiled with superior
love, as Jupiter
On Juno smiles when he
impregns the clouds 500
That shed May flowers,
and pressed her matron lip
With kisses pure. Aside
the Devil turned
For envy; yet with
jealous leer malign
Eyed them askance, and
to himself thus plained:—
“Sight
hateful, sight tormenting! Thus these two, 505
Imparadised in one
another’s arms,
The happier Eden, shall
enjoy their fill
Of bliss on bliss; while
I to Hell am thrust,
Where neither joy nor
love, but fierce desire,
Among our other torments
not the least, 510
Still unfulfilled, with
pain of longing pines!
Yet let me not forget
what I have gained
From their own mouths.
All is not theirs, it seems;
One fatal tree there
stands, of Knowledge called,
Forbidden them to taste.
Knowledge forbidden? 515
Suspicious, reasonless!
Why should their Lord
Envy them that? Can it
be sin to know?
Can it be death? And do
they only stand
By ignorance? Is that
their happy state,
The proof of their
obedience and their faith? 520
O fair foundation laid
whereon to build
Their ruin! Hence I will
excite their minds
With more desire to
know, and to reject
Envious commands,
invented with design
To keep them low, whom
knowledge might exalt 525
Equal with gods.
Aspiring to be such,
They taste and die: what
likelier can ensue?
But first with narrow
search I must walk round
This garden, and no
corner leave unspied;
A chance but chance may
lead where I may meet 530
Some wandering Spirit of
Heaven, by fountain-side,
Or in thick shade
retired, from him to draw
What further would be
learned. Live while ye may,
Yet happy pair; enjoy,
till I return,
Short pleasures; for
long woes are to succeed!” 535
So saying,
his proud step he scornful turned,
But with sly
circumspection, and began
Through wood, through
waste, o’er hill, o’er dale, his roam.
Meanwhile in utmost
longitude, where Heaven
With Earth and Ocean
meets, the setting Sun 540
Slowly descended, and
with right aspect
Against the eastern gate
of Paradise
Levelled his evening
rays. It was a rock
Of alabaster, piled up
to the clouds,
Conspicuous far, winding
with one ascent 545
Accessible from Earth,
one entrance high;
The rest was craggy
cliff, that overhung
Still as it rose,
impossible to climb.
Betwixt these rocky
pillars Gabriel sat,
Chief of the angelic
guards, awaiting night; 550
About him exercised
heroic games
The unarmed youth of
Heaven; but nigh at hand
Celestial armoury,
shields, helms, and spears,
Hung high, with diamond
flaming and with gold.
Thither came Uriel,
gliding through the even 555
On a sunbeam, swift as a
shooting star
In autumn thwarts the
night, when vapours fired
Impress the air, and
shews the mariner
From what point of his
compass to beware
Impetuous winds, He thus
began in haste:— 560
“Gabriel, to
thee thy course by lot hath given
Charge and strict watch
that to this happy place
No evil thing approach
or enter in.
This day at highth of
noon came to my sphere
A Spirit, zealous, as he
seemed, to know 565
More of the Almighty’s
works, and chiefly Man,
God’s latest image. I
described his way
Bent all on speed, and
marked his aerie gait,
But in the mount that
lies from Eden north,
Where he first lighted,
soon discerned his looks 570
Alien from Heaven, with
passions foul obscured.
Mine eye pursued him
still, but under shade
Lost sight of him. One
of the banished crew,
I fear, hath ventured
from the Deep, to raise
New troubles; him thy
care must be to find.” 575
To whom the
wingèd Warrior thus returned:—
“Uriel, no wonder if thy
perfect sight,
Amid the Sun’s bright
circle where thou sitt’st,
See far and wide. In at
this gate none pass
The vigilance here
placed, but such as come 580
Well known from Heaven;
since meridian hour
No creature thence. If
Spirit of other sort,
So minded, have
o’erleaped these earthly bounds
On purpose, hard thou
know’st it to exclude
Spiritual substance with
corporeal bar. 585
But, if within the
circuit of these walks,
In whatsoever shape, he
lurk of whom
Thou tell’st, by morrow
dawning I shall know.”
So promised
he; and Uriel to his charge
Returned on that bright
beam, whose point now raised 590
Bore him slope downward
to the Sun, now fallen
Beneath the Azores;
whether the Prime Orb,
Incredible how swift,
had thither rowled
Diurnal, or this less
volúbil Earth
By shorter flight to the
east, had left him there 595
Arraying with reflected
purple and gold
The clouds that on his
western throne attend.
Now came
still Evening on, and Twilight gray
Had in her sober livery
all things clad;
Silence accompanied; for
beast and bird, 600
They to their grassy
couch, these to their nests
Were slunk, all but the
wakeful nightingale.
She all night longer her
amorous descant sung:
Silence was pleased. Now
glowed the firmament
With living Saphirs;
Hesperus, that led 605
The starry host, rode
brightest, till the Moon,
Rising in clouded
majesty, at length
Apparent queen, unveiled
her peerless light,
And o’er the dark her
silver mantle threw;
When Adam thus to
Eve:—“Fair consort, the hour 610
Of night, and all things
now retired to rest
Mind us of like repose;
since God hath set
Labour and rest, as day
and night, to men
Successive, and the
timely dew of sleep,
Now falling with soft
slumberous weight, inclines 615
Our eye-lids. Other
creatures all day long
Rove idle, unimployed,
and less need rest;
Man hath his daily work
of body or mind
Appointed, which
declares his dignity,
And the regard of Heaven
on all his ways; 620
While other animals
unactive range,
And of their doings God
takes no account.
To—morrow, ere fresh
morning streak the east
With first approach of
light, we must be risen,
And at our pleasant
labour, to reform 625
Yon flowery arbours,
yonder alleys green,
Our walk at noon, with
branches overgrown,
That mock our scant
manuring, and require
More hands than ours to
lop their wanton growth.
Those blossoms also, and
those dropping gums, 630
That lie bestrown,
unsightly and unsmooth,
Ask riddance, if we mean
to tread with ease.
Meanwhile, as Nature
wills, Night bids us rest.”
To whom thus
Eve, with perfect beauty adorned:—
“My author and disposer,
what thou bidd’st 635
Unargued I obey. So God
ordains:
God is thy law, thou
mine: to know no more
Is woman’s happiest
knowledge, and her praise.
With thee conversing, I
forget all time,
All seasons, and their
change; all please alike. 640
Sweet is the breath of
Morn, her rising sweet,
With charm of earliest
birds; pleasant the Sun,
When first on this
delightful land he spreads
His orient beams, on
herb, tree, fruit, and flower,
Glistering with dew;
fragrant the fertil Earth 645
After soft showers; and
sweet the coming on
Of grateful Evening
mild; then silent Night,
With this her solemn
bird, and this fair Moon,
And these the gems of
Heaven, her starry train:
But neither breath of
Morn, when she ascends 650
With charm of earliest
birds; nor rising Sun
On this delightful land;
nor herb, fruit, flower,
Glistering with dew; nor
fragrance after showers;
Nor grateful Evening
mild; nor silent Night,
With her solemn bird;
nor walk by moon, 655
Or glittering
star-light, without thee is sweet.
But wherefore all night
long shine these? for whom
This glorious sight,
when sleep hath shut all eyes?”
To whom our
general ancestor replied:—
“Daughter of God and
Man, accomplished Eve, 660
Those have their course
to finish round the Earth
By morrow evening, and
from land to land
In order, though to
nations yet unborn,
Ministering light
prepared, they set and rise;
Lest total Darkness
should by night regain 665
Her old possession, and
extinguish life
In nature and all
things; which these soft fires
Not only enlighten, but
with kindly heat
Of various influence
foment and warm,
Temper or nourish, or in
part shed down 670
Their stellar virtue on
all kinds that grow
On Earth, made hereby
apter to receive
Perfection from the
Sun’s more potent ray.
These then, though
unbeheld in deep of night,
Shine not in vain. Nor
think, though men were none, 675
That Heaven would want
spectators, God want praise.
Millions of spiritual
creatures walk the Earth
Unseen, both when we
wake, and when we sleep:
All these with ceaseless
praise his works behold
Both day and night. How
often, from the steep 680
Of echoing hill or
thicket, have we heard
Celestial voices to the
midnight air,
Sole, or responsive each
to other’s note,
Singing their great
Creator! Oft in bands
While they keep watch,
or nightly rounding walk, 685
With heavenly touch of
instrumental sounds
In full harmonic number
joined, their songs
Divide the night, and
lift our thoughts to Heaven.”
Thus
talking, hand in hand along they passed
On to their blissful
bower. It was a place 690
Chosen by the sovran
Planter, when he framed
All things to Man’s
delightful use. The roof
Of thickest covert was
inwoven shade,
Laurel and myrtle, and
what higher grew
Of firm and fragrant
leaf; on either side 695
Acanthus, and each
odorous bushy shrub,
Fenced up the verdant
wall; each beauteous flower,
Iris all hues, roses,
and gessamin,
Reared high their
flourished heads between, and wrought
Mosaic; under foot the
violet, 700
Crocus, and hyacinth,
with rich inlay
Broidered the ground,
more coloured than with stone
Of costliest emblem.
Other creature here,
Beast, bird, insect, or
worm, durst enter none;
Such was their awe of
Man. In shadier bower 705
More sacred and
sequestered, though but feigned,
Pan or Sylvanus never
slept, nor Nymph
For Faunus haunted.
Here, in close recess,
With flowers, garlands,
and sweet—smelling hearbs
Espousèd Eve decked
first her nuptial bed, 710
And heavenly choirs the
hymenæan sung,
What day the genial
Angel to our Sire
Brought her, in naked
beauty more adorned,
More lovely, than
Pandora, whom the gods
Endowed with all their
gifts; and, O! too like 715
In sad event, when, to
the unwiser son
Of Japhet brought by
Hermes, she ensnared
Mankind with her fair
looks, to be avenged
On him who had stole
Jove’s authentic fire.
Thus at
their shady lodge arrived, both stood, 720
Both turned, and under
open sky adored
The God that made both
Sky, Air, Earth, and Heaven,
Which they beheld, the
Moon’s resplendent globe,
And starry Pole:—“Thou
also madest the Night,
Maker Omnipotent; and
thou the Day, 725
Which we, in our
appointed work imployed,
Have finished, happy in
our mutual help
And mutual love, the
crown of all our bliss
Ordained by thee; and
this delicious place,
For us too large, where
thy abundance wants 730
Partakers, and uncropt
falls to the ground.
But thou hast promised
from us two a race
To fill the Earth, who
shall with us extol
Thy goodness infinite,
both when we wake,
And when we seek, as
now, thy gift of sleep.” 735
This said
unanimous, and other rites
Observing none, but
adoration pure,
Which God likes best,
into their inmost bower
Handed they went, and,
eased the putting-off
These troublesome
disguises which we wear, 740
Straight side by side
were laid; nor turned, I ween,
Adam from his fair
spouse, nor Eve the rites
Mysterious of connubial
love refused:
Whatever hypocrites
austerely talk
Of purity, and place,
and innocence, 745
Defaming as impure what
God declares
Pure, and commands to
some, leaves free to all.
Our Maker bids increase;
who bids abstain
But our destroyer, foe
to God and Man?
Hail, wedded Love,
mysterious law, true source 750
Of human offspring, sole
propriety
In Paradise of all
things common else!
By thee adulterous lust
was driven from men
Among the bestial herds
to raunge; by thee,
Founded in reason,
loyal, just, and pure, 755
Relations dear, and all
the charities
Of father, son, and
brother, first were known.
Far be it that I should
write thee sin or blame,
Or think thee
unbefitting holiest place,
Perpetual fountain of
domestic sweets, 760
Whose bed is undefiled
and chaste pronounced,
Present, or past, as
saints and patriarchs used.
Here Love his golden
shafts imploys, here lights
His constant lamp, and
waves his purple wings,
Reigns here and revels;
not in the bought smile 765
Of harlots—loveless,
joyless, unindeared,
Casual fruition; nor in
court amours,
Mixed dance, or wanton
mask, or midnight bal,
Or serenate, which the
starved lover sings
To his proud fair, best
quitted with disdain. 770
These, lulled by
nightingales, imbracing slept,
And on their naked limbs
the flowery roof
Showered roses, which
the morn repaired. Sleep on,
Blest pair! and, O! yet
happiest, if ye seek
No happier state, and
know to know no more! 775
Now had
Night measured with her shadowy cone
Half-way up-hill this
vast sublunar vault,
And from their ivory
port the Cherubim
Forth issuing, at the
accustomed hour, stood armed
To their night-watches
in warlike parade; 780
When Gabriel to his next
in power thus spake:—
“Uzziel,
half these draw off, and coast the south
With strictest watch;
these other wheel the north:
Our circuit meets full
west.” As flame they part,
Half wheeling to the
shield, half to the spear. 785
From these, two strong
and subtle Spirits he called
That near him stood, and
gave them thus in charge:—
“Ithuriel
and Zephon, with winged speed
Search through this
Garden; leave unsearched no nook;
But chiefly where those
two fair creatures lodge, 790
Now laid perhaps asleep,
secure of harm.
This evening from the
Sun’s decline arrived
Who tells of some
infernal Spirit seen
Hitherward bent (who
could have thought?), escaped
The bars of Hell, on
errand bad, no doubt: 795
Such, where ye find,
seize fast, and hither bring.”
So saying,
on he led his radiant files,
Dazzling the moon; these
to the bower direct
In search of whom they
sought. Him there they found
Squat like a toad, close
at the ear of Eve, 800
Assaying by his devilish
art to reach
The organs of her fancy,
and with them forge
Illusions as he list,
phantasms and dreams;
Or if, inspiring venom,
he might taint
The animal spirits, that
from pure blood arise 805
Like gentle breaths from
rivers pure, thence raise,
At least distempered,
discontented thoughts,
Vain hopes, vain aims,
inordinate desires,
Blown up with high
conceits ingendering pride.
Him thus intent Ithuriel
with his spear 810
Touched lightly; for no
falsehood can endure
Touch of celestial
temper, but returns
Of force to its own
likeness. Up he starts,
Discovered and
surprised. As, when a spark
Lights on a heap of
nitrous powder, laid 815
Fit for the tun, some
magazine to store
Against a rumoured war,
the smutty grain,
With sudden blaze
diffused, inflames the air;
So started up, in his
own shape, the Fiend.
Back stept those two
fair Angels, half amazed 820
So sudden to behold the
griesly King;
Yet thus, unmoved with
fear, accost him soon:—
“Which of
those rebel Spirits adjudged to Hell
Com’st thou, escaped thy
prison? and, transformed,
Why satt’st thou like an
enemy in wait, 825
Here watching at the
head of these that sleep?”
“Know ye
not, then,” said Satan, filled with scorn,
“Know ye not me? Ye knew
me once no mate
For you, there sitting
where ye durst not soar!
Not to know me argues
yourselves unknown, 830
The lowest of your
throng; or, if ye know,
Why ask ye, and
superfluous begin
Your message, like to
end as much in vain?”
To whom thus
Zephon, answering scorn with scorn:—
“Think not, revolted
Spirit, thy shape the same, 835
Or undiminished
brightness, to be known
As when thou stood’st in
Heaven upright and pure.
That glory then, when
thou no more wast good,
Departed from thee; and
thou resemblest now
Thy sin and place of
doom obscure and foul. 840
But come; for thou, be
sure, shalt give account
To him who sent us,
whose charge is to keep
This place inviolable,
and these from harm.”
So spake the
Cherub; and his grave rebuke,
Severe in youthful
beauty, added grace 845
Invincible. Abashed the
Devil stood,
And felt how awful
goodness is, and saw
Virtue in her shape how
lovely—saw, and pined
His loss; but chiefly to
find here observed
His lustre visibly
impaired; yet seemed 850
Undaunted. “If I must
contend,” said he,
“Best with the best—the
sender, not the sent;
Or all at once: more
glory will be won,
Or less be lost.” “Thy
fear,” said Zephon bold,
“Will save us trial what
the least can do 855
Single against thee
wicked, and thence weak.”
The Fiend
replied not, overcome with rage;
But, like a proud steed
reined, went haughty on,
Chaumping his iron curb.
To strive or fly
He held it vain; awe
from above had quelled 860
His heart, not else
dismayed. Now drew they nigh
The western point, where
those half—rounding guards
Just met, and, closing,
stood in squadron joined,
Awaiting next command.
To whom their chief,
Gabriel, from the front
thus called aloud:— 865
“O friends,
I hear the tread of nimble feet
Hasting this way, and
now by glimpse discern
Ithuriel and Zephon
through the shade;
And with them comes a
third, of regal port,
But faded splendour wan,
who by his gait 870
And fierce demeanour
seems the Prince of Hell—
Not likely to part hence
without contest’.
Stand firm, for in his
look defiance lours.”
He scarce
had ended, when those two approached,
And brief related whom
they brought, where found, 875
How busied, in what form
and posture couched.
To whom, with stern
regard, thus Gabriel spake:—
“Why hast thou, Satan,
broke the bounds prescribed
To thy transgressions,
and disturbed the charge
Of others, who approve
not to transgress 880
By thy example, but have
power and right
To question thy bold
entrance on this place;
Imployed, it seems to
violate sleep, and those
Whose dwelling God hath
planted here in bliss?”
To whom thus
Satan, with contemptuous brow:— 885
“Gabriel, thou hadst in
Heaven the esteem of wise;
And such I held thee;
but this question asked
Puts me in doubt. Lives
there who loves his pain?
Who would not, finding
way, break loose from Hell,
Though thither doomed?
Thou wouldst thyself, no doubt, 890
And boldly venture to
whatever place
Farthest from pain,
where thou mightst hope to change
Torment with ease, and
soonest recompense
Dole with delight; which
in this place I sought:
To thee no reason, who
know’st only good, 895
But evil hast not tried.
And wilt object
His will who bound us?
Let him surer bar
His iron gates, if he
intends our stay
In that dark durance.
Thus much what was asked:
The rest is true; they
found me where they say; 900
But that implies not
violence or harm.”
Thus he in
scorn. The warlike Angel moved,
Disdainfully half
smiling, thus replied:—
“O loss of one in Heaven
to judge of wise,
Since Satan fell, whom
folly overthrew, 905
And now returns him from
his prison scaped,
Gravely in doubt whether
to hold them wise
Or not who ask what
boldness brought him hither
Unlicensed from his
bounds in Hell prescribed!
So wise he judges it to
fly from pain 910
However, and to scape
his punishment!
So judge thou still,
presumptuous, till the wrauth,
Which thou incurr’st by
flying, meet thy flight
Sevenfold, and scourge
that wisdom back to Hell,
Which taught thee yet no
better that no pain 915
Can equal anger infinite
provoked.
But wherefore thou
alone? Wherefore with thee
Came not all Hell broke
loose? Is pain to them
Less pain, less to be
fled? or thou than they
Less hardy to endure?
Courageous chief, 920
The first in flight from
pain, hadst thou alleged
To thy deserted host
this cause of flight,
Thou surely hadst not
come sole fugitive.”
To which the
Fiend thus answered, frowning stern:—
“Not that I less endure,
or shrink from pain, 925
Insulting Angel! well
thou know’st I stood
Thy fiercest, when in
battle to thy aid
The blasting volleyed
thunder made all speed
And seconded thy else
not dreaded spear.
But still thy words at
random, as before, 930
Argue thy inexperience
what behoves,
From hard assays and ill
successes past,
A faithful leader—not to
hazard all
Through ways of danger
by himself untried.
I, therefore, I alone,
first undertook 935
To wing the desolate
Abyss, and spy
This new-created World,
whereof in Hell
Fame is not silent, here
in hope to find
Better abode, and my
afflicted Powers
To settle here on Earth,
or in mid Air; 940
Though for possession
put to try once more
What thou and thy gay
legions dare against;
Whose easier business
where to serve their Lord
High up in Heaven, with
songs to hymn his throne,
And practiced distances
to cringe, not fight.” 945
To whom the
Warrior-Angel soon replied:—
“To say and straight
unsay, pretending first
Wise to fly pain,
professing next to spy,
Argues no leader, but a
liar traced,
Satan; and couldst thou
‘faithful’ add? O name, 950
O sacred name of
faithfulness profaned!
Faithful to whom? to thy
rebellious crew?
Army of fiends, fit body
to fit head!
Was this your discipline
and faith ingaged,
Your military obedience,
to dissolve 955
Allegiance to the
acknowledged Power Supreme?
And thou, sly hypocrite,
who now wouldst seem
Patron of liberty, who
more than thou
Once fawned, and
cringed, and servilely adored
Heaven’s awful Monarch?
wherefore, but in hope 960
To dispossess him, and
thyself to reign?
But mark what I areed
thee now: Avaunt!
Fly thither whence thou
fledd’st. If from this hour
Within these hallowed
limits thou appear,
Back to the Infernal Pit
I drag thee chained, 965
And seal thee so as
henceforth not to scorn
The facile gates of Hell
too slightly barred.”
So
threatened he; but Satan to no threats
Gave heed, but waxing
more in rage, replied:—
“Then, when
I am thy captive, talk of chains, 970
Proud limitary Cherub!
but ere then
Far heavier load thyself
expect to feel
From my prevailing arm,
though Heaven’s King
Ride on thy wings, and
thou with thy Compeers,
Used to the yoke,
draw’st his triumphant wheels 975
In progress through the
road of Heaven star—paved.”
While thus
he spake, the angelic squadron bright
Turned fiery red,
sharpening in mooned horns
Their phalanx and began
to hem him round
With ported spears, as
thick as when a field 980
Of Ceres ripe for
harvest waving bends
Her bearded grove of
ears which way the wind
Sways them; the careful
ploughman doubting stands
Lest on the
threshing-floor his hopeful sheaves
Prove chaff. On the
other side, Satan, alarmed, 985
Collecting all his
might, dilated stood,
Like Teneriff or Atlas,
unremoved:
His stature reached the
sky, and on his crest
Sat Horror plumed; nor
wanted in his grasp
What seemed both spear
and shield. Now dreadful deeds 990
Might have ensued; nor
only Paradise,
In this commotion, but
the starry cope
Of Heaven perhaps, or
all the Elements
At least, had gone to
wrack, disturbed and torn
With violence of this
conflict, had not soon 995
The Eternal, to prevent
such horrid fray,
Hung forth in Heaven his
golden scales, yet seen
Betwixt Astræa and the
Scorpion sign,
Wherein all things
created first he weighed,
The pendulous round
Earth with balanced air 1000
In counterpoise, now
ponders all events,
Battles and realms. In
these he put two weights,
The sequel each of
parting and of fight:
The latter quick up
flew, and kicked the beam;
Which Gabriel spying
thus bespake the Fiend: 1005
“Satan, I
know thy strength, and thou know’st mine,
Neither our own, but
given; what folly then
To boast what arms can
do! since thine no more
Than Heaven permits, nor
mine, though doubled now
To trample thee as mire.
For proof look up, 1010
And read thy lot in yon
celestial sign,
Where thou art weighed,
and shown how light, how weak
If thou resist.” The
Fiend looked up, and knew
His mounted scale aloft:
nor more; but fled
Murmuring; and with him
fled the shades of Night. 1015