1 GOD in the *great *assembly stands *Bagnadath-elOf Kings and lordly States,Among the gods* on both his hands. *Bekerev.He judges and debates.2 How long will ye *pervert the right *TishphetuWith *judgment false and wrong gnavel.Favouring the wicked by your might,Who thence grow bold and strong?3 *Regard the *weak and fatherless *Shiphtu-dal.*Dispatch the *poor mans cause, 10And **raise the man in deep distressBy **just and equal Lawes. **Hatzdiku.4 Defend the poor and desolate,And rescue from the handsOf wicked men the low estateOf him that help demands.5 They know not nor will understand,In darkness they walk on,The Earths foundations all are *mov'd *Jimmotu.And *out of order gon. 206 I said that ye were Gods, yea allThe Sons of God most high7 But ye shall die like men, and fallAs other Princes die.8 Rise God, *judge thou the earth in might,This wicked earth *redress, *Shiphta.For thou art he who shalt by rightThe Nations all possess.
1 BE not thou silent now at lengthO God hold not thy peace,Sit not thou still O God of strengthWe cry and do not cease.2 For lo thy furious foes now *swellAnd *storm outrageously, *Jehemajun.And they that hate thee proud and fellExalt their heads full hie.3 Against thy people they *contrive *Jagnarimu.*Their Plots and Counsels deep, *Sod. 10*Them to ensnare they chiefly strive *Jithjagnatsu gnal.*Whom thou dost hide and keep. *Tsephuneca.4 Come let us cut them off say they,Till they no Nation beThat Israels name for ever mayBe lost in memory.5 For they consult *with all their might, *Lev jachdau.And all as one in mindThemselves against thee they uniteAnd in firm union bind. 206 The tents of Edom, and the broodOf scornful Ishmael,Moab, with them of Hagars bloodThat in the Desart dwell,7 Gebal and Ammon there conspire,And hateful Amalec,The Philistines, and they of TyreWhose bounds the sea doth check.8 With them great Asshur also bandsAnd doth confirm the knot, 30All these have lent their armed handsTo aid the Sons of Lot.9 Do to them as to Midian boldThat wasted all the Coast.To Sisera, and as is toldThou didst to Jabins hoast,When at the brook of Kishon oldThey were repulst and slain,10 At Endor quite cut off, and rowl'dAs dung upon the plain. 4011 As Zeb and Oreb evil spedSo let their Princes speedAs Zeba, and Zalmunna bledSo let their Princes bleed.12 For they amidst their pride have saidBy right now shall we seizeGods houses, and will now invade*Their stately Palaces. *Neoth Elohim bears both.13 My God, oh make them as a wheelNo quiet let them find, 50Giddy and restless let them reelLike stubble from the wind.14 As when an aged wood takes fireWhich on a sudden straies,The greedy flame runs hier and hierTill all the mountains blaze,15 So with thy whirlwind them pursue,And with thy tempest chase;16 *And till they *yield thee honour due, *They seek thyLord fill with shame their face. Name. Heb.17 Asham'd and troubl'd let them be, 60Troubl'd and sham'd for ever,Ever confounded, and so dieWith shame, and scape it never.18 Then shall they know that thou whose nameJehova is alone,Art the most high, and thou the sameO're all the earth art one.
1 How lovely are thy dwellings fair!O Lord of Hoasts, how dearThe pleasant Tabernacles are!Where thou do'st dwell so near.2 My Soul doth long and almost dieThy Courts O Lord to see,My heart and flesh aloud do crie,O living God, for thee.3 There ev'n the Sparrow freed from wrongHath found a house of rest, 10The Swallow there, to lay her youngHath built her brooding nest,Ev'n by thy Altars Lord of HoastsThey find their safe abode,And home they fly from round the CoastsToward thee, My King, my God4 Happy, who in thy house resideWhere thee they ever praise,5 Happy, whose strength in thee doth bide,And in their hearts thy waies. 206 They pass through Baca's thirstie Vale,That dry and barren groundAs through a fruitfull watry DaleWhere Springs and Showrs abound.7 They journey on from strength to strengthWith joy and gladsom cheerTill all before our God at lengthIn Sion do appear.8 Lord God of Hoasts hear now my praierO Jacobs God give ear, 309 Thou God our shield look on the faceOf thy anointed dear.10 For one day in thy Courts to beIs better, and more blestThen in the joyes of Vanity,A thousand daies at best.I in the temple of my GodHad rather keep a dore,Then dwell in Tents, and rich abodeWith Sin for evermore 4011 For God the Lord both Sun and ShieldGives grace and glory bright,No good from him shall be with-heldWhose waies are just and right.12 Lord God of Hoasts that raign 'st on high,That man is truly blestWho only on thee doth relie.And in thee only rest.
1 THY Land to favour graciouslyThou hast not Lord been slack,Thou hast from hard CaptivityReturned Jacob back.2 Th' iniquity thou didst forgiveThat wrought thy people woe,And all their Sin, that did thee grieveHast hid where none shall know.3 Thine anger all thou hadst remov'd,And calmly didst return 10From thy *fierce wrath which we had prov'd *Heb. The burningFar worse then fire to burn. heat of thy4 God of our saving health and peace, wrath.Turn us, and us restore,Thine indignation cause to ceaseToward us, and chide no more.5 Wilt thou be angry without end,For ever angry thusWilt thou thy frowning ire extendFrom age to age on us? 206 Wilt thou not * turn, and hear our voice * Heb. Turn toAnd us again * revive, quicken us.That so thy people may rejoyceBy thee preserv'd alive.7 Cause us to see thy goodness Lord,To us thy mercy shewThy saving health to us affordAnd life in us renew.8 And now what God the Lord will speakI will go strait and hear, 30For to his people he speaks peaceAnd to his Saints full dear,To his dear Saints he will speak peace,But let them never moreReturn to folly, but surceaseTo trespass as before.9 Surely to such as do him fearSalvation is at handAnd glory shall ere long appearTo dwell within our Land. 4010 Mercy and Truth that long were miss'dNow joyfully are metSweet Peace and Righteousness have kiss'dAnd hand in hand are set.11 Truth from the earth like to a flowrShall bud and blossom then,And Justice from her heavenly bowrLook down on mortal men.12 The Lord will also then bestowWhatever thing is good 50Our Land shall forth in plenty throwHer fruits to be our food.13 Before him Righteousness shall goHis Royal Harbinger,Then * will he come, and not be slow *Heb. He will set hisHis footsteps cannot err. steps to the way.
1 THY gracious ear, O Lord, encline,O hear me I thee pray,For I am poor, and almost pineWith need, and sad decay.2 Preserve my soul, for *I have trod Heb. I am good, loving,Thy waies, and love the just, a doer of good andSave thou thy servant O my God holy thingsWho still in thee doth trust.3 Pity me Lord for daily theeI call; 4 O make rejoyce 10Thy Servants Soul; for Lord to theeI lift my soul and voice,5 For thou art good, thou Lord art proneTo pardon, thou to allArt full of mercy, thou aloneTo them that on thee call.6 Unto my supplication LordGive ear, and to the crieOf my incessant praiers affordThy hearing graciously. 207 I in the day of my distressWill call on thee for aid;For thou wilt grant me free accessAnd answer, what I pray'd.8 Like thee among the gods is noneO Lord, nor any worksOf all that other Gods have doneLike to thy glorious works.9 The Nations all whom thou hast madeShall come, and all shall frame 30To bow them low before thee Lord,And glorifie thy name.10 For great thou art, and wonders greatBy thy strong hand are done,Thou in thy everlasting SeatRemainest God alone.11 Teach me O Lord thy way most right,I in thy truth will bide,To fear thy name my heart uniteSo shall it never slide. 4012 Thee will I praise O Lord my GodThee honour, and adoreWith my whole heart, and blaze abroadThy name for ever more.13 For great thy mercy is toward me,And thou hast free'd my SoulEev'n from the lowest Hell set freeFrom deepest darkness foul.14 O God the proud against me riseAnd violent men are met 50To seek my life, and in their eyesNo fear of thee have set.15 But thou Lord art the God most mildReadiest thy grace to shew,Slow to be angry, and art stil'dMost mercifull, most true.16 O turn to me thy face at length,And me have mercy on,Unto thy servant give thy strength,And save thy hand-maids Son. 6017 Some sign of good to me afford,And let my foes then seeAnd be asham'd, because thou LordDo'st help and comfort me.
1 AMONG the holy Mountains highIs his foundation fast,There Seated in his Sanctuary,His Temple there is plac't.2 Sions fair Gates the Lord loves moreThen all the dwellings faireOf Jacobs Land, though there be store,And all within his care.3 City of God, most glorious thingsOf thee abroad are spoke; 104 I mention Egypt, where proud KingsDid our forefathers yoke,I mention Babel to my friends,Philistia full of scorn,And Tyre with Ethiops utmost ends,Lo this man there was born:5 But twise that praise shall in our earBe said of Sion lastThis and this man was born in her,High God shall fix her fast. 206 The Lord shall write it in a ScrowleThat ne're shall be out-wornWhen he the Nations doth enrowleThat this man there was born.7 Both they who sing, and they who danceWith sacred Songs are there,In thee fresh brooks, and soft streams glanceAnd all my fountains clear.
1 LORD God that dost me save and keep,All day to thee I cry;And all night long, before thee weepBefore thee prostrate lie.2 Into thy presence let my praierWith sighs devout ascendAnd to my cries, that ceaseless are,Thine ear with favour bend.3 For cloy'd with woes and trouble storeSurcharg'd my Soul doth lie, 10My life at death's uncherful doreUnto the grave draws nigh.4 Reck'n'd I am with them that passDown to the dismal pitI am a *man, but weak alas * Heb. A man without manlyAnd for that name unfit. strength.5 From life discharg'd and parted quiteAmong the dead to sleepAnd like the slain in bloody fightThat in the grave lie deep. 20Whom thou rememberest no more,Dost never more regard,Them from thy hand deliver'd o'reDeaths hideous house hath barr'd.6 Thou in the lowest pit profoundHast set me all forlorn,Where thickest darkness hovers round,In horrid deeps to mourn.7 Thy wrath from which no shelter savesFull sore doth press on me; 30*Thou break'st upon me all thy waves, *The Heb.*And all thy waves break me bears both.8 Thou dost my friends from me estrange,And mak'st me odious,Me to them odious, for they change,And I here pent up thus.9 Through sorrow, and affliction greatMine eye grows dim and dead,Lord all the day I thee entreat,My hands to thee I spread. 4010 Wilt thou do wonders on the dead,Shall the deceas'd ariseAnd praise thee from their loathsom bedWith pale and hollow eyes?11 Shall they thy loving kindness tellOn whom the grave hath hold,Or they who in perdition dwellThy faithfulness unfold?12 In darkness can thy mighty handOr wondrous acts be known, 50Thy justice in the gloomy landOf dark oblivion?13 But I to thee O Lord do cryE're yet my life be spent,And up to thee my praier doth hieEach morn, and thee prevent.14 Why wilt thou Lord my soul forsake,And hide thy face from me,15 That am already bruis'd, and *shake *Heb. Prae Concussione.With terror sent from thee; 60Bruz'd, and afflicted and so lowAs ready to expire,While I thy terrors undergoAstonish'd with thine ire.16 Thy fierce wrath over me doth flowThy threatnings cut me through.17 All day they round about me go,Like waves they me persue.18 Lover and friend thou hast remov'dAnd sever'd from me far. 70They fly me now whom I have lov'd,And as in darkness are.
Finis.
Ah Constantine, of how much ill was causeNot thy Conversion, but those rich demainsThat the first wealthy Pope receiv'd of thee.DANTE, Inf. xix. 115.Founded in chast and humble Poverty,'Gainst them that rais'd thee dost thou lift thy horn,Impudent whoore, where hast thou plac'd thy hope?In thy Adulterers, or thy ill got wealth?Another Constantine comes not in hast.PETRARCA, Son. 108.And to be short, at last his guid him bringsInto a goodly valley, where he seesA mighty mass of things strangely confus'dThings that on earth were lost or were abus'd.. . . . .Then past he to a flowry Mountain green,Which once smelt sweet, now stinks as odiously;This was that gift (if you the truth will have)That Constantine to good Sylvestro gave.ARIOSTO, Orl. Fur. xxxiv. 80.
When I die, let the Earth be roul'd in flames.
Laughing to teach the truthWhat hinders? as some teachers give to BoysJunkets and knacks, that they may learne apace.HORACE, Sat. 1. 24.Jesting decides great thingsStronglier, and better oft than earnest can.IBID. i. 10. 14.'Tis you that say it, not I: you do the deedsAnd your ungodly deeds find me the words.SOPHOCLES, Elec. 624.
This is true Liberty, when free-born Men,Having to advise the Public, may speak free,Which he who can, and will, deserv's high praise;Who neither can nor will, may hold his peace,What can be juster in a state then this?EURIPIDES, Supp. 438
Whom do we count a good man, whom but heWho keeps the laws and statutes of the Senate,Who judges in great suits and controversies,Whose witness and opinion wins the cause?But his own house, and the whole neighbourhoodSee his foul inside through his whited skin.HORACE, Ep. i. 16. 40.
There can be slaineNo sacrifice to God more acceptableThan an unjust and wicked king.SENECA, Herc. Fur. 922.
Brutus thus addresses Diana in the country of Leogecia.Goddess of Shades, and Huntress, who at willWalk'st on the rowling Sphear, and through the deep,On thy third Reign the Earth look now, and tellWhat Land, what Seat of rest thou bidst me seek,What certain Seat, where I may worship theeFor aye, with Temples vow'd, and Virgin quires.To whom sleeping before the altar, Diana in a Vision that nightthus answer'd.Brutus far to the West, in th' Ocean wideBeyond the Realm of Gaul, a Land there lies,Sea-girt it lies, where Giants dwelt of old,Now void, it fits thy People; thether bendThy course, there shalt thou find a lasting seat,There to thy Sons another Troy shall rise,And Kings be born of thee, whose dredded mightShall aw the World, and conquer Nations bold.
Paradise lost.APOEMWritten inTEN BOOKSBy John Milton——————————————————————————————Licensed and Entred accordingto Order——————————————————————————————LONDON.Printed, and are to be sold by Peter Parkerunder Creed Church neer Aldgate; And byRobert Boulter at the Turk's head in Bishopsgate-streetAnd Matthias Walker, under St. Dunstan's Churchin Fleet-street, 1667.
Paradise Lost.APOEMINTWELVE BOOKS.——————————————————————————————The AuthorJOHN MILTON.——————————————————————————————The Second EditionRevised and Augmented by theSame Author.——————————————————————————————LONDON.Printed by S. Simmons next door to theGolden Lion in Aldergate-street, 1674.
007s
008s
WHEN I beheld the Poet blind, yet bold,In slender Book his vast Design unfold,Messiah Crown'd, Gods Reconcil'd Decree,Rebelling Angels, the Forbidden Tree,Heav'n, Hell, Earth, Chaos, All; the ArgumentHeld me a while misdoubting his Intent,That he would ruine (for I saw him strong)The sacred Truths to Fable and old Song(So Sampson groap'd the Temples Posts in spight)The World o'rewhelming to revenge his sight.Yet as I read soon growing less severe,I lik'd his Project, the success did fear;Through that wide Field how he his way should findO're which lame Faith leads Understanding blind;Lest he perplex'd the things he would explain,And what was easie he should render vain.Or if a Work so infinite he spann'd,Jealous I was that some less skilful hand(Such as disquiet always what is well,And by ill imitating would excell)Might hence presume the whole Creations dayTo change in Scenes, and show it in a Play.Pardon me, Mighty Poet, nor despiseMy causeless, yet not impious, surmise.But I am now convinc'd, and none will dareWithin thy Labours to pretend a share,Thou hast not miss'd one thought that could be fit,And all that was improper dost omit:So that no room is here for Writers left,But to detect their Ignorance or Theft.That Majesty which through thy Work doth ReignDraws the Devout, deterring the Profane,And things divine thou treatst of in such stateAs them preserves, and thee, inviolate.At once delight and horrour on us seise,Thou singst with so much gravity and ease;And above humane flight dost soar aloftWith Plume so strong, so equal, and so soft.The Bird nam'd from that Paradise you singSo never flaggs, but always keeps on Wing.Where couldst thou words of such a compass find?Whence furnish such a vast expence of mind?Just Heav'n thee like Tiresias to requiteRewards with Prophesie thy loss of sight.Well mightst thou scorn thy Readers to allureWith tinkling Rhime, of thy own sense secure;While the Town-Bayes writes all the while and spells,And like a Pack-horse tires without his Bells:Their Fancies like our Bushy-points appear,The Poets tag them, we for fashion wear.I too transported by the Mode offend,And while I meant to Praise thee must Commend.Thy Verse created like thy Theme sublime,In Number, Weight, and Measure, needs not Rhime.A.M.Note: On Paradise Lost] Added in the second edition 1674.
The Printer to the Reader.
Courteous Reader, there was no Argument at first intended to the Book, but for the satisfaction of many that have desired it, I have procur'd it, and withall a reason of that which stumbled many others, why the Poem Rimes not. S. Simmons.
Notes: The Printer to the Reader] Added in 1668 to the copies then remaining of the first edition, amended in 1669, and omitted in 1670. I have procur'd it, and.... not. 1669] is procured. 1668.
THE measure is English Heroic Verse without Rime as that of Homer in Greek, and of Virgil in Latin; Rime being no necessary Adjunct or true Ornament of Poem or good Verse, in longer Works especially, but the Invention of a barbarous Age, to set off wretched matter and lame Meeter; grac't indeed since by the use of some famous modern Poets, carried away by Custom, but much to thir own vexation, hindrance, and constraint to express many things otherwise, and for the most part worse then else they would have exprest them. Not without cause therefore some both Italian and Spanish Poets of prime note have rejected Rime both in longer and shorter Works, as have also long since our best English Tragedies, as a thing of it self, to all judicious eares, triveal and of no true musical delight: which consists only in apt Numbers, fit quantity of Syllables, and the sense variously drawn out from one Verse into another, not in the jingling sound of like endings, a fault avoyded by the learned Ancients both in Poetry and all good Oratory This neglect then of Rime so little is to be taken for a defect though it may seem so perhaps to vulgar Readers, that it rather is to be esteem'd an example set, the first in English, of ancient liberty recover'd to Heroic Poem from the troublesom and modern bondage of Rimeing.
Note: The Verse] Added in 1668 to the copies then remaining of the first edition; together with the Argument. In the second edition (1674) the Argument, with the necessary adjustment to the division made in Books vii and x, was distributed through the several books of the poem, as it is here printed.
THE ARGUMENT.
THIS first Book proposes first in brief the whole Subject, Mans disobedience, and the loss thereupon of Paradise wherein he was plac't: Then touches the prime cause of his fall, the Serpent, or rather Satan in the Serpent; who revolting from God, and drawing to his side many Legions of Angels, was by the command of God driven out of Heaven with all his Crew into the great Deep. Which action past over, the Poem hasts into the midst of things, presenting Satan with his Angels now fallen into Hell describ'd here, not in the Center (for Heaven and Earth may be suppos'd as yet not made, certainly not yet accurst) but in a place of utter darknesse, fitliest call'd Chaos: Here Satan with his Angels lying on the burning Lake, thunder-struck and astonisht, after a certain space recovers, as from confusion, calls up him who next in Order and Dignity lay by him; they confer of thir miserable fall. Satan awakens all his Legions, who lay till then in the same manner confounded; They rise, thir Numbers, array of Battel, thir chief Leaders nam'd according to the Idols known afterwards in Canaan and the Countries adjoyning. To these Satan directs his Speech, comforts them with hope yet of gaining Heaven, but tells them lastly of a new World and new kind of Creature to be created, according to an ancient Prophesie or report in Heaven; for that Angels were long before this visible Creation, was the opinion of many ancient Fathers. To find out the truth of this Prophesie, and what to determin thereon he refers to a full councell. What his Associates thence attempt. Pandemonium the palace of Satan rises, suddenly built out of the Deep: The infernal Peers there sit in Counsel.
Of Mans First Disobedience, and the FruitOf that Forbidden Tree, whose mortal tastBrought Death into the World, and all our woe,With loss of Eden, till one greater ManRestore us, and regain the blissful Seat,Sing Heav'nly Muse, that on the secret topOf Oreb, or of Sinai, didst inspireThat Shepherd, who first taught the chosen Seed,In the Beginning how the Heav'ns and EarthRose out of Chaos: Or if Sion Hill 10Delight thee more, and Siloa's Brook that flow'dFast by the Oracle of God; I thenceInvoke thy aid to my adventrous Song,That with no middle flight intends to soarAbove th' Aonian Mount, while it pursuesThings unattempted yet in Prose or Rhime.And chiefly Thou O Spirit, that dost preferBefore all Temples th' upright heart and pure,Instruct me, for Thou know'st; Thou from the firstWast present, and with mighty wings outspread 20Dove-like satst brooding on the vast AbyssAnd mad'st it pregnant: What in me is darkIllumine, what is low raise and support;That to the highth of this great ArgumentI may assert th' Eternal Providence,And justifie the wayes of God to men.Say first, for Heav'n hides nothing from thy viewNor the deep Tract of Hell, say first what causeMov'd our Grand Parents in that happy State,Favour'd of Heav'n so highly, to fall off 30From their Creator, and transgress his WillFor one restraint, Lords of the World besides?Who first seduc'd them to that fowl revolt?Th' infernal Serpent; he it was, whose guileStird up with Envy and Revenge, deceiv'dThe Mother of Mankinde, what time his PrideHad cast him out from Heav'n, with all his HostOf Rebel Angels, by whose aid aspiringTo set himself in Glory above his Peers,He trusted to have equal'd the most High, 40If he oppos'd; and with ambitious aimAgainst the Throne and Monarchy of GodRais'd impious War in Heav'n and Battel proudWith vain attempt. Him the Almighty Power
057s
Hurld headlong flaming from th' Ethereal SkieWith hideous ruine and combustion downTo bottomless perdition, there to dwellIn Adamantine Chains and penal Fire,Who durst defie th' Omnipotent to Arms.Nine times the Space that measures Day and Night 50To mortal men, he with his horrid crewLay vanquisht, rowling in the fiery GulfeConfounded though immortal: But his doomReserv'd him to more wrath; for now the thoughtBoth of lost happiness and lasting painTorments him; round he throws his baleful eyesThat witness'd huge affliction and dismayMixt with obdurate pride and stedfast hate:At once as far as Angels kenn he viewsThe dismal Situation waste and wilde, 60A Dungeon horrible, on all sides roundAs one great Furnace flam'd, yet from those flamesNo light, but rather darkness visibleServ'd only to discover sights of woe,Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peaceAnd rest can never dwell, hope never comesThat comes to all; but torture without endStill urges, and a fiery Deluge, fedWith ever-burning Sulphur unconsum'd:Such place Eternal Justice had prepar'd 70For those rebellious, here their Prison ordain'dIn utter darkness, and their portion setAs far remov'd from God and light of Heav'nAs from the Center thrice to th' utmost Pole.O how unlike the place from whence they fell!There the companions of his fall, o'rewhelm'dWith Floods and Whirlwinds of tempestuous fire,He soon discerns, and weltring by his sideOne next himself in power, and next in crime,Long after known in Palestine, and nam'd 80Beelzebub. To whom th' Arch-Enemy,And thence in Heav'n call'd Satan, with bold wordsBreaking the horrid silence thus began.If thou beest he; But O how fall'n! how chang'dFrom him, who in the happy Realms of LightCloth'd with transcendent brightnes didst outshineMyriads though bright: If he whom mutual league,United thoughts and counsels, equal hope,And hazard in the Glorious Enterprize,Joynd with me once, now misery hath joynd 90In equal ruin: into what Pit thou seestFrom what highth fal'n, so much the stronger provdHe with his Thunder: and till then who knewThe force of those dire Arms? yet not for thoseNor what the Potent Victor in his rageCan else inflict do I repent or change,Though chang'd in outward lustre; that fixt mindAnd high disdain, from sence of injur'd merit,That with the mightiest rais'd me to contend,And to the fierce contention brought along 100Innumerable force of Spirits arm'dThat durst dislike his reign, and me preferring,His utmost power with adverse power oppos'dIn dubious Battel on the Plains of Heav'n,And shook his throne. What though the field be lost?All is not lost; the unconquerable Will,And study of revenge, immortal hate,And courage never to submit or yield:And what is else not to be overcome?That Glory never shall his wrath or might 110Extort from me. To bow and sue for graceWith suppliant knee, and deifie his powerWho from the terrour of this Arm so lateDoubted his Empire, that were low indeed,That were an ignominy and shame beneathThis downfall; since by Fate the strength of GodsAnd this Empyreal substance cannot fail,Since through experience of this great eventIn Arms not worse, in foresight much advanc't,We may with more successful hope resolve 120To wage by force or guile eternal WarrIrreconcileable, to our grand Foe,Who now triumphs, and in th' excess of joySole reigning holds the Tyranny of Heav'n.So spake th' Apostate Angel, though in pain,Vaunting aloud, but rackt with deep despare:And him thus answer'd soon his bold Compeer.O Prince, O Chief of many Throned Powers,That led th' imbattelld Seraphim to WarrUnder thy conduct, and in dreadful deeds 130Fearless, endanger'd Heav'ns perpetual King;And put to proof his high Supremacy,Whether upheld by strength, or Chance, or Fate,Too well I see and rue the dire event,That with sad overthrow and foul defeatHath lost us Heav'n, and all this mighty HostIn horrible destruction laid thus low,As far as Gods and Heav'nly EssencesCan Perish: for the mind and spirit remainsInvincible, and vigour soon returns, 140Though all our Glory extinct, and happy stateHere swallow'd up in endless misery.But what if he our Conquerour, (whom I nowOf force believe Almighty, since no lessThen such could hav orepow'rd such force as ours)Have left us this our spirit and strength intireStrongly to suffer and support our pains,That we may so suffice his vengeful ire,Or do him mightier service as his thrallsBy right of Warr, what e're his business be 150Here in the heart of Hell to work in Fire,Or do his Errands in the gloomy Deep;What can it then avail though yet we feelStrength undiminisht, or eternal beingTo undergo eternal punishment?Whereto with speedy words th' Arch-fiend reply'd.Fall'n Cherube, to be weak is miserableDoing or Suffering: but of this be sure,To do ought good never will be our task,But ever to do ill our sole delight, 160As being the contrary to his high willWhom we resist. If then his ProvidenceOut of our evil seek to bring forth good,Our labour must be to pervert that end,And out of good still to find means of evil;Which oft times may succeed, so as perhapsShall grieve him, if I fail not, and disturbHis inmost counsels from their destind aim.But see the angry Victor hath recall'dHis Ministers of vengeance and pursuit 170Back to the Gates of Heav'n: The Sulphurous HailShot after us in storm, oreblown hath laidThe fiery Surge, that from the PrecipiceOf Heav'n receiv'd us falling, and the Thunder,Wing'd with red Lightning and impetuous rage,Perhaps hath spent his shafts, and ceases nowTo bellow through the vast and boundless Deep.Let us not slip th' occasion, whether scorn,Or satiate fury yield it from our Foe.Seest thou yon dreary Plain, forlorn and wilde, 180The seat of desolation, voyd of light,Save what the glimmering of these livid flamesCasts pale and dreadful? Thither let us tendFrom off the tossing of these fiery waves,There rest, if any rest can harbour there,And reassembling our afflicted Powers,Consult how we may henceforth most offendOur Enemy, our own loss how repair,How overcome this dire Calamity,What reinforcement we may gain from Hope, 190If not what resolution from despare.Thus Satan talking to his neerest MateWith Head up-lift above the wave, and EyesThat sparkling blaz'd, his other Parts besidesProne on the Flood, extended long and largeLay floating many a rood, in bulk as hugeAs whom the Fables name of monstrous size,Titanian, or Earth-born, that warr'd on Jove,Briarios or Typhon, whom the DenBy ancient Tarsus held, or that Sea-beast 200Leviathan, which God of all his worksCreated hugest that swim th' Ocean stream:Him haply slumbring on the Norway foamThe Pilot of some small night-founder'd Skiff,Deeming some Island, oft, as Sea-men tell,With fixed Anchor in his skaly rindMoors by his side under the Lee, while NightInvests the Sea, and wished Morn delayes:So stretcht out huge in length the Arch-fiend layChain'd on the burning Lake, nor ever thence 210Had ris'n or heav'd his head, but that the willAnd high permission of all-ruling HeavenLeft him at large to his own dark designs,That with reiterated crimes he mightHeap on himself damnation, while he soughtEvil to others, and enrag'd might seeHow all his malice serv'd but to bring forthInfinite goodness, grace and mercy shewnOn Man by him seduc't, but on himselfTreble confusion, wrath and vengeance pour'd. 220Forthwith upright he rears from off the Pool