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So wise he judges it to fly from pain
However, and to scape his punishment!

So judge thou still, presumptuous, till the wrath,
Which thou incurr'st by flying, meet thy flight
Sevenfold, and scourge that wisdom back to Hell,
Which taught thee yet no better that no pain
Can equal anger infinite provoked.

But wherefore thou. alone? Wherefore with thee
Came not all Hell broke loose? Is pain to them
Less pain, less to be fled? or thou than they
Less hardy to endure? Courageous chief,

The first in flight from pain, hadst thou alleged
To thy deserted host this cause of flight,

Thou surely hadst not come sole fugitive."

To which the Fiend thus answered, frowning stern:
"Not that I less endure, or shrink from pain,
Insulting Angel! well thou know'st I stood
Thy fiercest, when in battle to thy aid
The blasting volleyed thunder made all speed
And seconded thy else not dreaded spear.
But still thy words at random, as before,
Argue thy inexperience what behoves,
From hard assays and ill successes past,
A faithful leader-not to hazard all
Through ways of danger by himself untried.
I, therefore, I alone, first undertook
To wing the desolate Abyss, and spy
This new-created World, whereof in Hell
Fame is not silent, here in hope to find
Better abode, and my afflicted Powers
To settle here on Earth, or in mid Air;
Though for possession put to try once more

What thou and thy gay legions dare against ;

Whose easier business were to serve their Lord

High up in Heaven, with songs to hymn his throne,
And practised distances to cringe, not fight."

To whom the Warrior-Angel soon replied:

"To say and straight unsay, pretending first Wise to fly pain, professing next the spy, Argues no leader, but a liar traced,

Satan; and couldst thou 'faithful' add? O name,

O sacred name of faithfulness profaned!

Faithful to whom? to thy rebellious crew?

Army of fiends, fit body to fit head!

Was this your discipline and faith engageù,
Your military obedience, to dissolve

Allegiance to the acknowledged Power Supreme:






And thou, sly hypocrite, who now wouldst seem
Patron of liberty, who more than thou

Once fawned, and cringed, and servilely adored

Heaven's awful Monarch? wherefore, but in hope
To dispossess him, and thyself to reign?
But mark what I areed thee now: Avaunt!


Fly thither whence thou fledd'st. If from this hour
Within these hallowed limits thou appear,
Back to the Infernal Pit I drag thee chained,
And seal thee so as henceforth not to scorn
The facile gates of Hell too slightly barred."

So threatened he; but Satan to no threats
Gave heed, but waxing more in rage, replied:-
"Then, when I am thy captive, talk of chains,
Proud limitary Cherub! but ere then
Far heavier load thyself expect to feel

From my prevailing arm, though Heaven's King
Ride on thy wings, and thou with thy compeers,
Used to the yoke, draw'st his triumphant wheels
in progress through the road of Heaven star-paved."
While thus he spake, the angelic squadron bright
Turned fiery red, sharpening in moonèd horns
Their phalanx, and began to hem him round
With ported spears, as thick as when a field
Of Ceres ripe for harvest waving bends



Her bearded grove of ears which way the wind
Sways them; the careful ploughman doubting stands
Lest on the threshing-foor his hopeful sheaves

Prove chaff. On the other side, Satan, alarmed,
Collecting all his might, dilated stood,

Like Teneriff or Atlas, unremoved:

His stature reached the sky, and on his crest

Sat Horror plumed; nor wanted in his grasp

What seemed both spear and shield. Now dreadful deeds 990 Might have ensued; nor only Paradise,

In this commotion, but the starry cope

Of Heaven perhaps, or all the Elements

At least, had gone to wrack, disturbed and torn

With violence of this conflict, had not soon

The Eternal, to prevent such horrid fray,

Hung forth in Heaven his golden scales, yet seen
Betwixt Astræa and the Scorpion sign,
Wherein all things created first he weighed,
The pendulous round Earth with balanced air
In counterpoise, now ponders all events,


Battles and realms. In these he put two weights,
The sequel each of parting and of fight:

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, and knew

His mounted scale aloft: nor more; but fled

Murmuring; and with him fled the shades of Night.






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:-"Awake,
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

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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


Of interdicted knowledge. Fair it seemed,
Much fairer to my fancy than by day;

And, as I wondering looked, beside it stood

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,


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