Who from the terror of this arm fo late

Doubted his empire; that were low indeed,
That were an ignominy' and shame beneath
This downfall; fince by fate the strength of Gods
And this empyreal substance cannot fail,
Since through experience of this great event
In arms not worse, in forefight much advanc'd,
We may with more fuccessful hope resolve
To wage by force or guile eternal war,
Irreconcileable to our grand foe,

Who now triumphs, and in th' excess of joy
Sole reigning holds the tyranny of Heaven.

So fpake th' apoftate Angel, though in pain,
Vaunting aloud, but rack'd with deep despair:
And him thus answer'd foon his bold compeer.
O Prince, O Chief of many throned Powers,
'That led th' imbattel'd Seraphim to war
Under thy conduct, and in dreadful deeds
Fearless, indanger'd Heav'n's perpetual king,
And put to proof his high fupremacy,

Whether upheld by strength, or chance, or fate;
Too well I fee and rue the dire event,

That with fad overthrow and foul defeat
Hath loft us Heav'n, and all this mighty hoft
In horrible destruction laid thus low,
As far as Gods and heav'nly effences
Can perish for the mind and spi'rit remains
Invincible, and vigor foon returns,
Though all our glory' extinct, and happy state
Here fwallow'd up in endless mifery.

But

But what if he our conqu'ror (whom I now

Of force believe almighty, fince no lefs

Than fuch could have o'er-pow'r'd fuch force as ours)
Have left us this our spi'rit and strength entire
Strongly to fuffer and fupport our pains,
That we may so suffice his vengeful ire,
Or do him mightier fervice as his thralls
By right of war, whate'er his business be,
Here in the heart of Hell to work in fire,
Or do his errands in the gloomy deep;
What can it then avail, though yet we feel
Strength undiminish'd, or eternal being
To undergo eternal punishment?

Whereto with speedy words th' Arch-Fiend reply`d.

Fall'n Cherub, to be weak is miserable

Doing or fuffering: but of this be fure,
To do ought good, never will be our task,
But ever to do ill our fole delight,

As be'ing the contrary to his high will
Whom we refift. If then his providence
Out of our evil feek to bring forth good,
Our labor must be to pervert that end,
And out of good still to find means of evil;
Which oft-times may fucceed, fo as perhaps
Shall grieve him, if I fail not, and disturb
His inmoft counfels from their deftin'd aim.
But fee the angry victor hath recall'd
His ministers of vengeance and pursuit

Back to the gates of Heav'n: the fulphurous hail
Shot after us in ftorm, o'erblown hath laid

The

The fiery furge, that from the precipice
Of Heav'n receiv'd us falling; and the thunder,
Wing'd with red lightning and impetuous rage,
Perhaps hath spent his shafts, and ceafes now
To bellow through the vast and boundless deep.
Let us not flip th' occafion, whether scorn,
Or fatiate fury yield it from our foe.

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

Save what the glimmering of these livid flames
Cafts pale and dreadful? Thither let us tend
From off the toffing of these fiery waves,
There rest, if any rest can harbour there,
And re-assembling our afflicted Powers,
Confult how we may henceforth most offend
Our enemy, our own lofs how repair,
How overcome this dire calamity,
What reinforcement we may gain from hope,
If not what refolution from despair.

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

By ancient Tarfus held, or that fea-beast
Leviathan, which God of all his works
Created hugest that fwim th' ocean stream:

This firft Book propofes, firft in brief, the whole fubject, Man's difobedience, and the lofs thereupon of Paradife wherein he was plac'd: Then touches the prime cause of his fall, the Serpent, or rather Satan in the ferpent; who revolting from God, and drawing to his fide many legions of Angels, was by the command of God driven out of Heaven with all his crew into the great deep. Which action pass'd over, the poem haftes into the midft of things, prefenting Satan with his Angels now falling into Hell, describ'd here, not in the center (for Heaven and Earth may be fuppos'd as yet not made, certainly not yet accurs'd) but in a place of utter darkness, fitlieft call'd Chaos: Here Satan with his Angels lying on the burning lake, thunder-ftruck and aftonish'd, after a certain space recovers, as from confufion, calls up him who next in order and dignity lay by him; they confer of their miferable fall. Satan awakens all his legions, who lay till then in the fame manner confounded: They rife, their numbers, array of battel, their chief leaders nam'd, according to the idols known afterwards in Canaan and the countries adjoining. To thefe Satan directs his fpeech, comforts them with hope yet of regaining Heaven, but tells them laftly of a new world and new kind of creature to be created, according to an ancient prophecy or report in Heaven; for that Angels were long before this vifible creation, was the opinion of many ancient Fathers. To find out the truth of this prophecy, and what to determin thereon, he refers to a full council. What his affociates thence attempt. Pandemonium the palace of Satan rifes, fuddenly built out of the deep: The infernal peers there fit in council.

[s]

PARADISE LOST.

BOOK I.

F Man's firft difobedience, and the fruit

OF

Of that forbidden tree, whofe mortal taste
Brought death into the world, and all our woe,
With lofs of Eden, till one greater Man
Reftore us, and regain the blissful seat,
Sing, heav'nly Mufe, that on the fecret top
Of Oreb, or of Sinai, didft infpire

That fhepherd, who first taught the chofen feed,
In the beginning how the Heav'ns and Earth
Rofe out of Chaos: Or if Sion hill

Delight thee more, and Siloa's brook that flow'd
Faft by the oracle of God; I thence

Invoke thy aid to my adventrous fong,
That with no middle flight intends to foar
Above th' Aonian mount, while it pursues
Things unattempted yet in profe or rhyme.
And chiefly Thou, O Spi'rit, that doft prefer
Before all temples th' upright heart and pure,
Inftruct me, for Thou know'ft; Thou from the first
Waft prefent, and with mighty wings outspread
Dove-like fatft brooding on the vast abyss,
And mad'ft it pregnant: what in me is dark

B 3

Illumin,