Than such could have o'er-pow'r'd such force
Have left us this our spirit and strength entire
Strongly to fuffer and support our pains,
That we may fo fuffice his vengeful ire,
Or do him mightier service as his thralls
By right of war, whate'er his business be, 150
Here in the heart of Hell to work in fire,
Or do his errands in the gloomy deep; t
What can it then avail, though yet we feel
Strength undiminish'd, or eternal being
To undergo eternal punishment ?
Whereto with speedy words th' Arch-fiend reply'd.
Fall'n Cherub, to be weak is miserable Doing or fuffering: but of this be fure, To do ought good never will be our task, But ever to do ill our fole delight, As being the contrary to his high will Whom we refift. If then his providence Out of our evil feek to bring forth good, Our labour must be to pervert that end, And out of good still to find means of evil; 165 Which oft-times may fucceed, so as perhaps Shall grieve him, if I fail not, and disturb His inmoft counfels from their deftin'd-aim. But fee! the angry victor hath recall'd His minifters of vengeance and perfuit
Back to the gates of Heav'n: the fulphurous hail
Shot after us in storm, o'er-blown hath laid
The fiery furge that from the precipice
Of Heav'n receiv'd us falling; and the thunder,
Wing'd with red lightning and impetuous
175 Perhaps hath spent his fhafts, and ceafes now To bellow through the vast and boundless deep. Let us not flip th' occafion, whether scorn, Or fatiate fury yield it from our foe.
Seeft thou yon dreary plain, forlorn and
Save what the glimmering of these livid flames
Cafts pale and dreadful? Thither let us tend
From off the toffing of these fiery waves, y qu
There reft, if any rest can harbour there, 185
And re-affembling our afflicted Powers,
Confult, how we may henceforth most offend
Our enemy, our own lofs how repair,
How overcome this dire calamity,
What reinforcement we may gain from
hope,
If not, what refolution from despair.
Thus Satan talking to his nearest mate With head up-lift above the wave, and eyes That sparkling blaz'd, his other parts besides Prone on the flood, extended long and large,
2720
Lay floating many a rood: in bulk as huge
As whom the fables name of monstrous size,
Titanian, or Earth-born, that warr'd on Jove,
Briareus or Typhon, whom the den
By ancient Tarsus held, or that sea-beast 200
Leviathan, which God of all his works
Created hugeft, that swim th' ocean stream:
Him haply flumb'ring on the Norway foam
The pilot of fome small night-founder'd skiff
Deeming some island, oft, as sea-men tell, 205
Whith fixed anchor in his scaly rind
Moors by his fide under the lee, while night
Invest the fea, and wifhed morn delays:
So stretch'd out huge in length the Arch-fiend
Chain'd on the burning lake, nor ever thence
Had ris'n or heav'd his head, but hat the will
And high permiffion of all-ruling Heaven
Left him at large to his own dark designs,
That with reiterated crimes he might
Heap on himself damnation, while he
Evil to others, and enrag'd might see
How all his malice ferv'd but to bring forth
Infinite goodness, grace and mercy shown
On Man by him feduc'd, but on himself
Treble confufion, wrath and vengeance
pour'd.
Forthwith upright he rears from off the pool His mighty stature; on each hand the flames Driv'n backward flope their pointing fpires,
In billows, leave i'th' midst a horrid vale. Then with expanded wings he fteers his flight
Aloft, incumbent on the dufky air
That felt unusual weight, till on dry land
He lights, if it were land that ever burn'd
With folid, as the lake with liquid fire;
And fuch appear'd in hue, as when the force 230
Of fubterranean wind transports a hill
Torn from Pelorus, or the shatter'd fide
Of thund'ring Aetna, whofe combuftible
And fuel'd entrails thence conceiving fire,
Sublim'd with mineral fury, aid the winds, 235
And leave a finged bottom all involv'd
With Stench and smoke; Such refting found
the fole
Of unbleft feet. Him follow'd his next mate,
Both glorying, to have 'fcap'd the Stygian flood
As Gods, and by their own recover'd
Not by the fufferance of fupernal Power.
Is this the region, this the foil, the clime,
Said then the lost Arch-Angel, this the feat,
That we must change for heav'n, this
mournful gloom
For that celestial light? Be it fo, fince he 245 Who now is fov'rain, can dispose and bid What shall be right: farthest from him is beft, Whom reason hath equall'd, force hath made fupreme
Above his equals. Farewell happy fields, Where joy for eer dwells! Hail horrors!
Infernal world, and thou profoundest Hell,
Receive thy new poffeffor; one who brings
A mind not to be chang'd by place or time.
The mind is its own place, and in itself
Can make a Heav'n of Hell, a Hell of
255. What matter where, if I be ftill the fame, And what I fhould be, all but lefs than he, Whom thunder hath made greater? here at leaft We shall be free; th' Almighty hath not built Here for his envy, will not drive us hence: 260 Here we may reign fecure; and in my choice To reign is worth ambition tho' in hell:
Better to reign in Hell, than ferve in Heaven,
But wherefore let we then our faithful friends
Th' affociates and copartners of our lofs, 265
Lie thus aftonish'd on th' oblivious pool,
And call them not to share with us their part
In this unhappy manfion, or once more
With rallied arms to try what may be yet
Regain'd in Heav'n, or what more loft in
Hell ?
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