Illumin, what is low raise and support;
That to the height of this great argument may affert eternal Providence,
And justify the ways of God to Men.
Say firft, for Heav'n hides nothing from thy view, Nor the deep tract of Hell, fay first what cause Mov'd our grand parents, in that happy state, Favor'd of Heav'n fo highly, to fall off From their Creator, and tranfgrefs his will For one restraint, lords of the world befides? Who first feduc'd them to that foul revolt? Th' infernal Serpent; he it was, whose guile, Stirr'd up with envy and revenge, deceiv'd The mother of mankind, what time his pride Had caft him out from Heav'n, with all his hoft Of rebel Angels, by whose aid aspiring To fet himself in glory' above his peers, He trufted to have equal'd the most High, If he oppos'd; and with ambitious aim Against the throne and monarchy of God Rais'd impious war in Heav'n and battel proud With vain attempt. Him the almighty Power Hurl'd headlong flaming from th' ethereal fky, With hideous ruin and combuftion, down To bottomlefs perdition, there to dwell In adamantin chains and penal fire, Who durft defy, th' Omnipotent to arms. Nine times the space that measures day and night To mortal men, he with his horrid crew Lay vanquish'd, rolling in the fiery gulf,
Confounded though immortal: But his doom
Referv'd him to more wrath; for now the thought
Both of loft happiness and lasting pain
Torments him; round he throws his baleful eyes,
That witness'd huge affliction and dismay
Mix'd with obdurate pride and stedfast hate :
At once, as far as Angels ken, he views
The difmal fituation waste and wild;
A dungeon horrible on all fides round
As one great furnace flam'd, yet from those flames
No light, but rather darkness visible
Serv'd only to discover fights of woe,
Regions of forrow, doleful shades, where peace
And reft can never dwell, hope never comes
That comes to all; but torture without end
Still urges, and a fiery deluge, fed
With ever-burning fulphur unconsum'd :
Such place eternal Justice had
For those rebellious, here their pris'on ordain'd
In utter darkness, and their portion fet
As far remov'd from God and light of Heav'n,
As from the center thrice to th' utmost pole.
O how unlike the place from whence they fell!
There the companions of his fall, o'erwhelm'd
With floods and whirlwinds of tempestuous fire,
He foon difcerns, and welt'ring by his fide
One next himself in pow'r, and next in crime,
Long after known in Palestine, and nam'd
Beelzebub. To whom th' Arch-Enemy,
And thence in Heav'n call'd Satan, with bold words
Breaking the horrid filence thus began.
If thou beeft he; but O how fall'n! how chang'd From him, who in the happy realms of light Cloth'd with transcendent brightness didst outshine Myriads though bright! If he whom mutual league, United thoughts and counsels, equal hope
And hazard in the glorious enterprise,
Join'd with me once, now mifery hath join'd
In equal ru'in: into what pit thou seest
From what highth fall'n, so much the stronger prov'd ·
He with his thunder: and till then who knew
The force of those dire arms? yet not for those,
Nor what the potent victor in his rage
Can else inflict, do I repent or change,
'Though chang'd in outward luftre, that fix'd mind,
And high disdain from sense of injur'd merit,
That with the Mightieft rais'd me to contend,
And to the fierce contention brought along
Innumerable force of Spirits arm'd,
That durft dislike his reign, and me preferring,
His utmost pow'r with adverse pow'r oppos'd
In dubious battel on the plains of Heaven,
And fhook his throne. What though the field be lost?
All is not loft; th' unconquerable will,
And study of revenge, immortal hate,
And courage never to submit or yield,
And what is elfe not to be overcome;
That glory never shall his wrath or might
Extort from me. To bow and fue for grace
With fuppliant knee, and deify his power,
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 successful hope refolve
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' apostate 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 deftruction 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 ftate
Here swallow'd up in endless mifery.
But what if he our conqu'ror (whom I now
Of force believe almighty, fince no less
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 fpeedy words th' Arch-Fiend reply'd.
Fall'n Cherub, to be weak is miserable
Doing or suffering: but of this be sure,
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 resist. 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 inmost 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
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