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Of Hell should spout her cataracts of fire,
Impendent horrors, threat'ning hideous fall
One day upon our heads; while we perhaps,
Designing or exhorting glorious war,
Caught in a fiery tempest, shall be hurl'd,
Each on his rock transfix'd, the sport and prey
Of wracking whirlwinds, or for ever sunk
Under yon boiling ocean, wrapt in chains;
There to converse with everlasting groans,'
Unrespited, unpitied, unrepriev'd,

Ages of hopeless end! This would be worse.
War, therefore, open or conceal'd, alike

My voice dissuades, for what can force or guile
With him, or who deceive his mind, whose eye

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Views all things at one view? He from Heav'n's height 190 All these our motions vain sees and derides;

Not more almighty to resist our might

Than wise to frustrate all our plots and wiles.

Shall we then live thus vile, the race of Heaven,

Thus trampled, thus expell'd to suffer here

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Chains and these torments? better these than worse,

By my advice, since fate inevitable

Subdues us, and omnipotent decree,

The victor's will. To suffer, as to do,
Our strength is equal, nor the law unjust
That so ordains: this was at first resolv'd,
If we were wise, against so great a foe
Contending, and so doubtful what might fall.
I laugh when those, who at the spear are bold
And vent'rous, if that fail them, shrink and fear
What yet they know must follow, to endure
Exile, or ignominy', or bonds, or pain,
The sentence of their conqu'ror: this is now
Our doom; which, if we can sustain and bear,
Our supreme foe in time may much remit

His anger, and perhaps, thus far remov'd,
Not mind us not offending, satisfy'd

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With what is punish'd; whence these raging fires
Will slacken, if his breath stir not their flames.

Our purer essence then will overcome

Their noxious vapour; or inur'd, not feel;

Or, chang'd at length, and to the place conform'd
In temper and in nature, will receive

Familiar the fierce heat; and void of pain,

This horror will grow mild, this darkness light;

Besides what hope the never-ending flight

Of future days may bring, what chance, what change,
Worth waiting, since our present lot appears

For happy though but ill, for ill not worst,

If we procure not to ourselves more woe."

Thus Belial, with words cloth'd in reason's garb,
Counsell❜d ignoble ease and peaceful sloth,
Not peace and after him thus Mammon spake.
"Either to disenthrone the king of Heaven
We war,
Our own right, lost; him to unthrone we then
May hope, when everlasting Fate shall yield
To fickle Chance, and Chaos judge the strife:
The former vain to hope argues as vain

if war be best, or to regain

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The latter for what place can be for us

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Within Heav'n's bound, unless Heav'n's Lord supreme
We overpow'r? Suppose he should relent,

And publish grace to all, on promise made

Of new subjection; with what eyes could we

Stand in his presence humble, and receive
Strict laws impos'd to celebrate his throne
With warbled hymns, and to his Godhead sing
Forc'd hallelujahs; while he lordly sits
Our envied Sov'reign, and his altar breathes
Ambrosial odours and ambrosial flowers,
Our servile offerings? This must be our task
In Heav'n, this our delight; how wearisome
Eternity, so spent in worship paid
To whom we hate! Let us not then pursue

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By force impossible, by leave obtain❜d

Unacceptable, though in Heav'n, our state

Of splendid vassalage; but rather seek

Our own good from ourselves, and from our own
Live to ourselves, though in this vast recess,
Free, and to none accountable, preferring

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Hard liberty before the easy yoke

Of servile pomp. Our greatness will appear

Then most conspicuous, when great things of small,
Useful of hurtful, prosp❜rous of adverse,

We can create, and in what place soe'er
Thrive under ev’il, and work ease out of pain
Through labour and endurance. This deep world
Of darkness do we dread? How oft amidst
Thick cloud and dark doth Heav'n's all-ruling Sire
Choose to reside, his glory unobscur❜d,

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And with the majesty of darkness round

Covers his throne; from whence deep thunders roar

Must'ring their rage, and Heav'n resembles Hell?

As he our darkness, cannot we his light

Imitate when we please? This desert soil
Wants not her hidden lustre, gems and gold,
Nor want we skill or art, from whence to raise
Magnificence; and what can Heav'n shew more?
Our torments also may in length of time
Become our elements; these piercing fires
As soft as now severe, our temper chang'd
Into their temper; which must needs remove
The sensible of pain. All things invite
To peaceful counsels, and the settled state
Of order, how in safety best we may
Compose our present evils, with regard
Of what we are and where, dismissing quite
All thoughts of war. Ye have what I advise."

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He scarce had finish'd, when such murmur fill'd

Th' assembly, as when hollow rocks retain

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The sound of blust'ring winds, which all night long

Had rous'd the sea, now with hoarse cadence lull

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Seafaring men o'erwatch'd, whose bark by chance,
Or pinnace; anchors in a craggy bay

After the tempest: such applause was heard

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As Mammon ended; and his sentence pleas'd
Advising peace: for such another field

They dreaded worse than Hell: so much the fear
Of thunder and the sword of Michaël

Wrought still within them; and no less desire

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To found this nether empire, which might rise

By policy, and long process of time,

In emulation opposite to Heaven.

Which when Beelzebub perceiv'd, than whom,
Satan except, none higher sat, with grave
Aspéct he rose, and in his rising seem'd
A pill'ar of state; deep in his front engraven,
Deliberation sat and public care;

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And princely counsel in his face yet shone
Majestic, though in ruin : sage he stood,
With Atlantean shoulders fit to bear

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The weight of mightiest monarchies; his look

Drew audience and attention, still as night

Or summer's noontide air, while thus he spake.

"Thrones and Imperial Pow'rs, Offspring of Heaven, 310 Ethereal Virtues! or these titles now

Must we renounce, and, changing stile, be call'd

Princes of Hell? for so the popular vote

Inclines, here to continue', and build up here

A growing empire; doubtless; while we dream

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And know not that the King of Heav'n hath doom'd

This place our dungeon, not our safe retreat

Beyond his potent arm, to live exempt

From Heav'n's high jurisdiction, in new league

Banded against his throne, but to remain

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In strictest bondage, though thus far remov'd,
Under th' inevitable curb, reserv'd

His captive multitude: for he, be sure,

In height or depth, still first and last will reign
Sole king, and of his kingdom lose no part
By our revolt; but over Hell extend
His empire, and with iron sceptre rule
Us here, as with his golden those in Heaven:
What sit we then projecting peace and war?
War hath determin'd us, and foil'd with loss

Irreparable; terms of peace yet none

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Vouchsaf'd or sought; for what peace will be given
To us, enslav'd; but custody severe,

And stripes, and arbitrary punishment,
Inflicted? and what peace can we return,
But to our pow'r hostility and hate,

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Untam'd reluctance, and revenge, though slow,
Yet ever plotting how the Conqu❜ror least

May reap his conquest, and may least rejoice
In doing what we most in suffering feel?
Nor will occasion want, nor shall we need,

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With dang'rous expedition to invade

Heav'n, whose high walls fear no assault or siege,

Or ambush from the deep. What if we find

Some easier enterprise? There is a place,

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(If ancient and prophetic fame in Heaven

Err not) another world, the happy seat

Of some new race call'd Man, about this time

To be created like to us, though less

In pow'r and excellence, but favour'd more

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Of him who rules above; so was his will

Pronounc'd among the Gods, and by an oath,

That shook Heav'n's whole circumference, confirm'd.
Thither let us bend all our thoughts, to learn
What creatures there inhabit, of what mould
Or substance, how endued, and what their pow'r,
And where their weakness, how attempted best,
By force or subtlety. Though Heav'n be shut,
And Heav'n's high Arbitrator sit secure
In his own strength, this place may lie expos'd

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