第 13 页

Turned fiery red, sharpening in mooned horns

Their phalanx, and began to hem him round

With ported spears, as thick as when a field

Of Ceres ripe for harvest waving bends

Her bearded grove of ears, which way the wind

Sways them; the careful plowman doubting stands,

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Left on the threshing floor his hopeless sheaves

Prove chaff. On the other side, Satan, alarmed,

Collecting all his might, dilated stood,

Like Teneriff or Atlas, unremoved:

His stature reached the sky, and on his crest

Sat Horrour plumed; nor wanted in his grasp

What seemed both spear and shield: Now dreadful deeds

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

The Eternal, to prevent such horrid fray,

Hung forth in Heaven his golden scales, yet seen

Betwixt Astrea and the Scorpion sign,

Wherein all things created first he weighed,

The pendulous round earth with balanced air

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.

Satan, I know thy strength, and thou knowest 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,

And read thy lot in yon celestial sign;

Where thou art weighed, and shown how light, how

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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.

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Book V

Now Morn, her rosy steps in the eastern clime

Advancing, sowed the earth with orient pearl,

When Adam waked, so customed; for his sleep

Was aery-light, from pure digestion bred,

And temperate vapours bland, which the only sound

Of leaves and fuming rills, Aurora’s fan,

Lightly dispersed, and the shrill matin song

Of birds on every bough; so much the more

His wonder was to find unwakened Eve

With tresses discomposed, and glowing cheek,

As through unquiet rest: He, on his side

Leaning half raised, with looks of cordial love

Hung over her enamoured, and beheld

Beauty, which, whether waking or asleep,

Shot forth peculiar graces; then with voice

Mild, as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes,

Her hand soft touching, whispered thus. Awake,

My fairest, my espoused, my latest found,

Heaven’s last best gift, my ever new delight!

Awake: The morning shines, and the fresh field

Calls us; we lose the prime, to mark how spring

Our tender plants, how blows the citron grove,

What drops the myrrh, and what the balmy reed,

How nature paints her colours, how the bee

Sits on the bloom extracting liquid sweet.

Such whispering waked her, but with startled eye

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On Adam, whom embracing, thus she spake.

O sole in whom my thoughts find all repose,

My glory, my perfection! glad I see

Thy face, and morn returned; for I this night

(Such night till this I never passed) have dreamed,

If dreamed, not, as I oft am wont, of thee,

Works of day past, or morrow’s next design,

But of offence and trouble, which my mind

Knew never till this irksome night: Methought,

Close at mine ear one called me forth to walk

With gentle voice; I thought it thine: It said,

‘Why sleepest thou, Eve? now is the pleasant time,

‘The cool, the silent, save where silence yields

‘To the night-warbling bird, that now awake

‘Tunes sweetest his love-laboured song; now reigns

‘Full-orbed the moon, and with more pleasing light

‘Shadowy sets off the face of things; in vain,

‘If none regard; Heaven wakes with all his eyes,

‘Whom to behold but thee, Nature’s desire?

‘In whose sight all things joy, with ravishment

‘Attracted by thy beauty still to gaze.’

I rose as at thy call, but found thee not;

To find thee I directed then my walk;

And on, methought, alone I passed through ways

That brought me on a sudden to the tree

Of interdicted knowledge: fair it seemed,

Much fairer to my fancy than by day:

And, as I wondering looked, beside it stood

One shaped and winged like one of those from Heaven

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By us oft seen; his dewy locks distilled

Ambrosia; on that tree he also gazed;

And ‘O fair plant,’ said he, ‘with fruit surcharged,

‘Deigns none to ease thy load, and taste thy sweet,

‘Nor God, nor Man? Is knowledge so despised?

‘Or envy, or what reserve forbids to taste?

‘Forbid who will, none shall from me withhold

‘Longer thy offered good; why else set here?

This said, he paused not, but with venturous arm

He plucked, he tasted; me damp horrour chilled

At such bold words vouched with a deed so bold:

But he thus, overjoyed; ‘O fruit divine,

‘Sweet of thyself, but much more sweet thus cropt,

‘Forbidden here, it seems, as only fit

‘For Gods, yet able to make Gods of Men:

‘And why not Gods of Men; since good, the more

‘Communicated, more abundant grows,

‘The author not impaired, but honoured more?

‘Here, happy creature, fair angelick Eve!

‘Partake thou also; happy though thou art,

‘Happier thou mayest be, worthier canst not be:

‘Taste this, and be henceforth among the Gods

‘Thyself a Goddess, not to earth confined,

‘But sometimes in the air, as we, sometimes

‘Ascend to Heaven, by merit thine, and see

‘What life the Gods live there, and such live thou!’

So saying, he drew nigh, and to me held,

Even to my mouth of that same fruit held part

Which he had plucked; the pleasant savoury smell

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So quickened appetite, that I, methought,

Could not but taste. Forthwith up to the clouds

With him I flew, and underneath beheld

The earth outstretched immense, a prospect wide

And various: Wondering at my flight and change

To this high exaltation; suddenly

My guide was gone, and I, methought, sunk down,

And fell asleep; but O, how glad I waked

To find this but a dream! Thus Eve her night

Related, and thus Adam answered sad.

Best image of myself, and dearer half,

The trouble of thy thoughts this night in sleep

Affects me equally; nor can I like

This uncouth dream, of evil sprung, I fear;

Yet evil whence? in thee can harbour none,

Created pure. But know that in the soul

Are many lesser faculties, that serve

Reason as chief; among these Fancy next

Her office holds; of all external things

Which the five watchful senses represent,

She forms imaginations, aery shapes,

Which Reason, joining or disjoining, frames

All what we affirm or what deny, and call

Our knowledge or opinion; then retires

Into her private cell, when nature rests.

Oft in her absence mimick Fancy wakes

To imitate her; but, misjoining shapes,

Wild work produces oft, and most in dreams;

Ill matching words and deeds long past or late.

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Some such resemblances, methinks, I find

Of our last evening’s talk, in this thy dream,

But with addition strange; yet be not sad.

Evil into the mind of God or Man

May come and go, so unreproved, and leave

No spot or blame behind: Which gives me hope

That what in sleep thou didst abhor to dream,

Waking thou never will consent to do.

Be not disheartened then, nor cloud those looks,

That wont to be more cheerful and serene,

Than when fair morning first smiles on the world;

And let us to our fresh employments rise

Among the groves, the fountains, and the flowers

That open now their choisest bosomed smells,

Reserved from night, and kept for thee in store.

So cheered he his fair spouse, and she was cheered;

But silently a gentle tear let fall

From either eye, and wiped them with her hair;

Two other precious drops that ready stood,

Each in their crystal sluice, he ere they fell

Kissed, as the gracious signs of sweet remorse

And pious awe, that feared to have offended.

So all was cleared, and to the field they haste.

But first, from under shady arborous roof

Soon as they forth were come to open sight

Of day-spring, and the sun, who, scarce up-risen,

With wheels yet hovering o’er the ocean-brim,

Shot parallel to the earth his dewy ray,

Discovering in wide landskip all the east

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Of Paradise and Eden’s happy plains,

Lowly they bowed adoring, and began

Their orisons, each morning duly paid

In various style; for neither various style

Nor holy rapture wanted they to praise

Their Maker, in fit strains pronounced, or sung

Unmeditated; such prompt eloquence

Flowed from their lips, in prose or numerous verse,

More tuneable than needed lute or harp

To add more sweetness; and they thus began.

These are thy glorious works, Parent of good,

Almighty! Thine this universal frame,

Thus wonderous fair; Thyself how wonderous then!

Unspeakable, who sitst above these heavens

To us invisible, or dimly seen

In these thy lowest works; yet these declare

Thy goodness beyond thought, and power divine.

Speak, ye who best can tell, ye sons of light,

Angels; for ye behold him, and with songs

And choral symphonies, day without night,

Circle his throne rejoicing; ye in Heaven

On Earth join all ye Creatures to extol

Him first, him last, him midst, and without end.

Fairest of stars, last in the train of night,

If better thou belong not to the dawn,

Sure pledge of day, that crownest the smiling morn

With thy bright circlet, praise him in thy sphere,

While day arises, that sweet hour of prime.

Thou Sun, of this great world both eye and soul,

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Acknowledge him thy greater; sound his praise

In thy eternal course, both when thou climbest,

And when high noon hast gained, and when thou fallest.

Moon, that now meetest the orient sun, now flyest,

With the fixed Stars, fixed in their orb that flies;

And ye five other wandering Fires, that move

In mystick dance not without song, resound

His praise, who out of darkness called up light.

Air, and ye Elements, the eldest birth

Of Nature’s womb, that in quaternion run

Perpetual circle, multiform; and mix

And nourish all things; let your ceaseless change

Vary to our great Maker still new praise.

Ye Mists and Exhalations, that now rise

From hill or steaming lake, dusky or gray,

Till the sun paint your fleecy skirts with gold,

In honour to the world’s great Author rise;

Whether to deck with clouds the uncoloured sky,

Or wet the thirsty earth with falling showers,

Rising or falling still advance his praise.

His praise, ye Winds, that from four quarters blow,

Breathe soft or loud; and, wave your tops, ye Pines,

With every plant, in sign of worship wave.

Fountains, and ye that warble, as ye flow,

Melodious murmurs, warbling tune his praise.

Join voices, all ye living Souls: Ye Birds,

That singing up to Heaven-gate ascend,

Bear on your wings and in your notes his praise.

Ye that in waters glide, and ye that walk

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The earth, and stately tread, or lowly creep;

Witness if I be silent, morn or even,

To hill, or valley, fountain, or fresh shade,

Made vocal by my song, and taught his praise.

Hail, universal Lord, be bounteous still

To give us only good; and if the night

Have gathered aught of evil, or concealed,

Disperse it, as now light dispels the dark!

So prayed they innocent, and to their thoughts

Firm peace recovered soon, and wonted calm.

On to their morning’s rural work they haste,

Among sweet dews and flowers; where any row

Of fruit-trees over-woody reached too far

Their pampered boughs, and needed hands to check

Fruitless embraces: or they led the vine

To wed her elm; she, spoused, about him twines

Her marriageable arms, and with him brings

Her dower, the adopted clusters, to adorn

His barren leaves. Them thus employed beheld

With pity Heaven’s high King, and to him called

Raphael, the sociable Spirit, that deigned

To travel with Tobias, and secured

His marriage with the seventimes-wedded maid.

Raphael, said he, thou hearest what stir on Earth

Satan, from Hell ‘scaped through the darksome gulf,

Hath raised in Paradise; and how disturbed

This night the human pair; how he designs

In them at once to ruin all mankind.

Go therefore, half this day as friend with friend

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Converse with Adam, in what bower or shade

Thou findest him from the heat of noon retired,

To respite his day-labour with repast,

Or with repose; and such discourse bring on,

As may advise him of his happy state,

Happiness in his power left free to will,

Left to his own free will, his will though free,

Yet mutable; whence warn him to beware

He swerve not, too secure: Tell him withal

His danger, and from whom; what enemy,

Late fallen himself from Heaven, is plotting now

The fall of others from like state of bliss;

By violence? no, for that shall be withstood;

But by deceit and lies: This let him know,

Lest, wilfully transgressing, he pretend

Surprisal, unadmonished, unforewarned.

So spake the Eternal Father, and fulfilled

All justice: Nor delayed the winged Saint

After his charge received; but from among

Thousand celestial Ardours, where he stood

Veiled with his gorgeous wings, up springing light,

Flew through the midst of Heaven; the angelick quires,

On each hand parting, to his speed gave way

Through all the empyreal road; till, at the gate