The latter quick up flew, and kicked the beam; Which Gabriel spying thus bespake the Fiend:
Satan, I know thy strength, and thou know'st 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 weak If thou resist." The Fiend looked up
His mounted scale aloft: nor more; but fled Murmuring; and with him fled the shades of Night.
THE END OF THE FOURTH BOOK.
Morning approached, Eve relates to Adam her troublesome dream; he likes it not, yet comforts her: they come forth to their day labours: their morning hymn at the door of their bower. God, to render Man inexcusable, sends Raphael to admonish him of his obedience, of his free estate, of his enemy near at hand, who he is, and why his enemy, and whatever else may avail Adam to know. Raphael comes down to Paradise; his appearance described; his coming discerned by Adam afar off, sitting at the door of his bower; he goes out to meet him, brings him to his lodge, entertains him with the choicest fruits of Paradise, got together by Eve; their discourse at table. Raphael performs his message, minds Adam of his state and of his enemy; relates, at Adam's request, who that enemy is, and how he came to be so, beginning from his first revolt in Heaven, and the occasion thereof; how he drew his legions after him to the parts of the North, and there incited them to rebel with him, persuading all but only Abdiel, a seraph, who in argument dissuades and opposes him, then forsakes him.
WOW 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: 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 tended 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 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 sleep'st 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
One shaped and winged like one of those from Heaven 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 horror 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,
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 angelic Eve! Partake thou also: happy though thou art, Happier thou may'st 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 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, mimic 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. 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 unapproved, and leave No spot or blame behind; which gives me hope That what in sleep thou didst abhor to dream Waking thou never wilt 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 choicest 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 uprisen, With wheels yet hovering o'er the ocean-brim, Shot parallel to the Earth his dewy ray, Discovering in wide landskip all the east st 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 wondrous fair: Thyself how wondrous then! Unspeakable! who sitt'st 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,
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