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 are described; overleaps the bounds; sits in the shape of a cormorant on the Tree of Life, as the 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 farther 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 afterwards by his furious gestures on 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 nightwatch 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 hin 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, While time was, our first parents had been warn'd The coming of their secret foe, and 'scapedHaply so 'scaped his mortal snare.
Satan, now first inflamed with rage, came down, The tempter ere the accuser of mankind, 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, Now rolling, 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 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 slumber'd, wakes the bitter memory
Of what he was, what is, and what must be, 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 Which now sat high in his meridian tower: [sun, Then, much revolving, thus in sighs began.
"O thou! that, with surpassing glory crown'd, Look'st from thy sole dominion, like the God Of this new world; at whose sight all the stars Hide their diminish'd heads; to thee I call, 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, Warring in Heaven, against Heaven's matchless Ah! wherefore? he deserved no such return [King! From me, whom he created what I was, In that bright eminence, and with his good Upbraided none; nor was his service hard. 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'sdain'd subjection, and thought one step higher Would set me highest, and, in a moment, quit The debt immense of endless gratitude,
So burdensome, still paying, still to owe; Forgetful what from him I still received; And understood not, that a grateful mind By owing owes not, but still pays, at once Indebted and discharged: what burden then? O had his powerful destiny ordain'd Me some inferior angel, I had stood Then happy; no unbounded hope had raised Ambition. Yet why not? some other power As great might have aspir'd, 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 arm'd. Had'st thou the same free will and power to stand? Thou had'st: whom hast 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.
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 wrath, and infinite despair? Which way I fly is Hell; myself am Hell: 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 repentance, none for pardon left? 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 The Omnipotent. Ah 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, 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 height recall high thoughts, how soon unsay What feign'd 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, 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, beheld, instead Of us out-cast, 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, 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 dimm'd his face.
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