His utmost pow'r with adverse pow'r oppos'd
In dubious battel on the plains of Heav'n gr
And fhook his throne. What tho' the field be loft? 105 All is not loft; th' unconquerable will,
And study of revenge, immortal hate, And courage never to fubmit or yield, And what is elfe not to be overcome; That glory never fhall his wrath or might Extort from me. To bow and fue for grace With fuppliant knee, and deify his pow'r, Who from the terror of this arm fo late Doubted his empire; that were low indeed. That were an ignominy and fhame beneath This downfall; fince by fate the strength of Gods And this empyreal fubftance cannot fail, Since through experience of this great event In arms not worse, in forefight much advanc'd, We may with more fuccessful hope refolve To wage by force or guile eternal war
Irréconcileable, to our grand foe,
Who now triumphs, and in th' excess of joy Sole reigning holds the tyranny of heaven.
So fpake the apoftate Angel, though in pain,:~125 Vaunting aloud, but rack'd with deep despair: And him thus anfwer'd foon his bold compéer. O Prince, O chief of many throned Powers That led th' imbattel'd Seraphim to war Under thy conduct, and in dreadful deeds Fearless, endanger'd Heav'n's perpetual king, And put to proof his high fupremacy,
Whether upheld by strength, or chance, or fate; Too well I fee and rue the dire event, That with fad overthrow and foul defeat Hath loft us Heav'n, and all this mighty host In horrible deftruction laid thus low, As far as Gods and heav'nly effences Can perish: for the mind and spirit remains Invincible, and vigor foon returns,
Though all our glory extinct, and happy flater. Here fwallow'd up in endlefs mifery.
But what if he our conqu'ror, whom I now
Of force believe almighty, fince no less
Than fuch could have o'er-pow'r'd fuch force as ours
Have left us this our spirit and ftrength entire
Strongly to fuffer and fupport our pains, That we may fo fuffice his vengeful ire, Or do him mightier fervice as his thralls
By right of war, whate'er his bufinefs be, Here in the heart of Hell to work in fire, Or do his errands in the gloomy deep; What can it then avail, though yet we feel Strength undiminish'd, or eternal being made To undergo eternal punishment?
Whereto with speedy words th' Arch-fiend reply'd.
Fall'n Cherub, to be weak is miferable
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 seek to bring forth good, Our labour must be to pervert that end And out of good still to find means of evil; Which oft-times may fucceed, so as perhaps Shall grieve him, if I fail not, and disturb
His inmost counsels from their destin'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 rage, Perhaps hath spent his fhafts, and ceafes now To bellow through the vaft and boundless deep. Let us not flip th' occafion, whether (corn,
Or fatiate fury yield it from our foe.
Seeft thou yon dreary plain, forlorn and wild, The feat of defolation, void of light, Save what the glimmering of thefe livid flames Cafts pale and dreadful? Thither let us tend From off the toffing of these fiery waves, There reft, if any reft can harbour there 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 befides Prone on the flood, extended long and large Lay floating many a rood in bulk as huge As whom the fables name of monftrous fize, Titanian, or Earth-born, that warr'd on Jove, Briareus or Typhon, whom the den
By ancient Tarfus held, or that fea-beaft 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 fmall night-founder'd fkiff Deeming fome ifland, oft, as sea-men tell, With fixed anchor in his scaly rind
Moors by his fide under the lee, while night Inveft the fea, and wifhed morn delays:
So stretch'd out huge in length the Arch-fiend lay, Chain'd on the burning lake, nor ever thence
Had ris'n or heav'd his head, but that 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 fought
Eyil to others, and enrag'd might fee
How all his malice ferv'd but to bring forth Infinite goodness, grace and mercy fhown." 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 ftature; on each hand the flames Driv'n backward flope their pointing fpires, and roll'a In billows, leave i'th' midst a horrid vale. Then with expanded wings he fteers his flight Aloft, incumbent on the dusky air That felt unufual weight, till on dry land He lights, if it were land that ever burn'd With folid, as the lake with liquid fire; ne us And fuch appear'd in hue, as when the force Of fubterranean wind transports a hill Torn from Pelorus, or the fhatter'd fide Of thund'ring Aetna, whofe combustible And fuel'd entrails thence conceiving fire, Sublim'd with mineral fury, aid the winds, And leave a finged bottom all involv'de 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 strength, Not by the fufferance of fupernal Power.
Is this the region, this the foil, the clime, Said then the loft Arch-Angel, this the feat
That we must change for heav'n, this mournful gloom
For that celeftial light? Be it fo, fince he
Who now is fov'rain can difpofe and bid
What fhall be right: fartheft from him is beft, Whom reafon equall'd, force hath made fupreme Above his equals.. Farewell happy fields, Where joy for ever dwells! Hail horrors! hail 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 Heaven. What matter where, if I be still 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: Here we may reign secure; 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, Lie thus aftonish'd on th' oblivious pool, And call them not to fhare with us their part In this unhappy manfion, or once more With rallied arms to try what may be yeter
Regain'd in Heav'n, or what more loft in Hell? 270 So Satan fpake, and him Beelzebub
Thus answer'd. Leader of thofe armies bright, Which but th' Omnipotent none could have foil'd,
If once they hear that voice, their livelieft pledge. Of hope in fears and dangers, heard so oft In worst extremes, and on the perilous edge Of battel when it rag'd, in all assaults Their fureft fignal, they will foon resume New courage and revive, tho' now they lie Groveling and proftrate on yon lake of fire,42 As we ere while, astounded and amaz’d, No wonder, fall'n fuch a pernicous height.
He fcarce had ceas'd when the fuperior Fiend
Was moving toward the fhore; his pond'rous shield, Ethereal temper, maffy, large and round, Behind him caft; the broad circumference Hung on his fhoulders like the Moon, whofe orb Through optic glafs the Tufcan artift views At evening from the top of Fefolé,
Or in Valdarno, to defcry new lands, Rivers or mountains in her spotty globe. His fpear, to equal which the tallest pine
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