And that must end us; that must be our cure,
To be no more. Sad cure! for who would lose,
Though full of pain, this intellectual being,
Those thoughts that wander through eternity,
To perish rather, swallowed up and lost
In the wide womb of uncreated night,

145

150

Devoid of sense and motion? And who knows,
Let this be good, whether our angry foe
Can give it, or will ever? How he can,
Is doubtful; that he never will, is sure.
.Will he, so wise, let loose at once his ire,
Belike through impotence or unaware,
To give his enemies their wish, and end
Them in his anger, whom his anger saves

155

To punish endless? Wherefore cease we then?’

Say they who counsel war; we are decreed,

160

Reserved, and destined to eternal woe :
Whatever doing, what can we suffer more ?
What can we suffer worse?' Is this then worst,
Thus sitting, thus consulting, thus in arms?
What! when we fled amain, pursued, and strook
With Heaven's afflicting thunder, and besought
The Deep to shelter us? This Hell then seemed
A refuge from those wounds. Or when we lay
Chained on the burning lake? That sure was worse.
What if the breath that kindled those grim fires,
Awaked, should blow them into sevenfold rage,
And plunge us in the flames? or, from above,
Should intermitted vengeance arm again
His red right hand to plague us?

What if all

Her stores were opened, and this firmament
Of Hell should spout her cataracts of fire,
Impendent horrors, threatening hideous fall

165

170

175

146-151. An idea which has doubtless tormented many who might otherwise have argued themselves to self-destruction.

155. Belial is here keener than Moloch, 11. 96-101.

One day upon our heads? while we, perhaps,
Designing or exhorting glorious war,

Caught in a fiery tempest, shall be hurled,

Each on his rock transfixed, the sport and prey
Of racking whirlwinds, or for ever sunk
Under yon boiling ocean, wrapt in chains,
There to converse with everlasting groans,
Unrespited, unpitied, unreprieved,

180

185

Ages of hopeless end! This would be worse.
War therefore, open or concealed, alike
My voice dissuades; for what can force or guile
With him, or who deceive his mind, whose eye

Views all things at one view? He from Heaven's highth All these our motions vain sees and derides;

191

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 expelled, to suffer here
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 resolved,
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 venturous, 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 conqueror. This is now

195

200

205

186. Belial is of that lower order of mind which thinks it best to get along on what is obviously practical. They get on excellently in this world, but rarely achieve great things.

188. What can force or guile with him? Something of a Latinism, quid possit. What can force do? we should say.

208. There was a certain noble endurance in the preceding lines: now Belial shows rather a cringing lowness of mind.

Our doom, which if we can sustain and bear,
Our supreme foe in time may much remit

His anger, and perhaps, thus far removed,
Not mind us not offending, satisfied

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

210

Our purer essence then will overcome

215

Their noxious vapour; or, inured, not feel;

Or, changed at length, and to the place conformed

In temper and in nature, will receive.

Familiar the fierce heat, and void of pain;

This horror will grow mild, this darkness light;

220

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 clothed in reason's garb,
Counselled ignoble ease, and peaceful sloth,
Not peace; and after him thus Mammon spake :
"Either to disenthrone the King of Heaven
We war, if war be best, or to regain

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

225

230

224. For happy though but ill. When we regard our lot as happy it seems but ill, but when we regard it as ill, it seems not worst.

228. Mammon, although his advice runs along with that of Belial, offers a somewhat different argument, and shows a different temper, and, in fact, goes a step farther. Belial had been unable to arise to the fierce unrest of Moloch; in reality he hated the bother of making an effort. But Mammon is already more or less satisfied with Hell; he sees things (i. 678-688; ii. 270-273) that he really likes much better than he ever did the more spiritual delights of Heaven, of which he speaks with hardly veiled contempt (241–243).

234. The vanity of the former hope is evidence of the vanity of the latter.

The latter; for what place can be for us

235

Within Heaven's bound, unless Heaven's Lord'supreme

We overpower? 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 imposed, to celebrate his throne
With warbled hymns, and to his Godhead sing
Forced Halleluiahs; while he lordly sits
Our envied sovran, and his altar breathes
Ambrosial odours and ambrosial flowers,
Our servile offerings? This must be our task
In Heaven, this our delight. How wearisome
Eternity so spent, in worship paid

240

245

To whom we hate! Let us not then pursue

By force impossible, by leave obtained

250

Unacceptable, though in Heaven, 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

255

Hard liberty before the easy yoke

Of servile pomp. Our greatness will appear

Then most conspicuous, when great things of small,

Useful of hurtful, prosperous of adverse,

We can create; and in what place soe'er

260

Thrive under evil, and work ease out of pain

Through labour and endurance. This deep world

Of darkness do we dread? How oft amidst

Thick clouds and dark doth Heaven's all-ruling Sire
Choose to reside, his glory unobscured,

265

And with the majesty of darkness round

245. Ambrosial. Ambrosia was the food of the gods of the classics. The line is another reminiscence of Milton's traditions.

250. Here he gives his view of Belial's idea of possible forgiveness (209–220).

263, 264. A weak argument, not even specious.

Covers his throne, from whence deep thunders roar
Mustering their rage, and Heaven 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 Heaven show more?
Our torments also may, in length of time,
Become our elements, these piercing fires

270

275

As soft as now severe, our temper changed
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

280

Of what we are and where, dismissing quite

All thoughts of war. Ye have what I advise."

He scarce had finished, when such murmur filled

The assembly, as when hollow rocks retain

285

The sound of blustering winds, which all night long
Had roused the sea, now with hoarse cadence lull

Seafaring men o'er-watched, whose bark by chance,
Or pinnace, anchors in a craggy bay

After the tempest: such applause was heard

290

As Mammon ended, and his sentence pleased,

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

295

To found this nether empire, which might rise,
By policy and long procèss of time,

In emulation opposite to Heaven.

278. Sensible, sense or sensibility; the adjective used for the

noun.

294. Michaël means "the sword of God." The word must here be pronounced as a trisyllable.

296. Nether, lower.