"So sung they, and the Empyrean rung With halleluiahs. Thus was Sabbath kept. And thy request think now fulfilled, that asked How first this World and face of things began, And what before thy memory was done From the beginning, that posterity,
Informed by thee, might know. If else thou seck'st Aught, not surpassing human measure, say."
THE END OF THE SEVENTH BOOK.
inquires concerning celestial motions; is doubtfully answered, and exhorted to rather things more worthy of knowledge. Adam assents, and, still desirous to detain relates to him what he remembered since his own creation-his placing in Paradise; with God concerning solitude and fit society; his first meeting and nuptials with His discourse with the Angel thereupon; who, after admonitions repeated, departs.
HE Angel ended, and in Adam's ear
So charming left his voice that he a while
Thought him still speaking, still stood fixed to hear; Then, as new-waked, thus gratefully replied :— "What thanks sufficient, or what recompense
Equal, have I to render thee, divine Historian, who thus largely hast allayed The thirst I had of knowledge, and voutsafed This friendly condescension to relate Things else by me unsearchable-now heard With wonder, but delight, and, as is due, With glory attributed to the high
Creator? Something yet of doubt remains, Which only thy solution can resolve.
When I behold this goodly frame, this World, Of Heaven and Earth consisting, and compute Their magnitudes-this Earth, a spot, a grain, An atom, with the Firmament compared And all her numbered stars, that seem to roll Spaces incomprehensible (for such
Their distance argues, and their swift return Diurnal) merely to officiate light
Round this opacous Earth, this punctual spot, One day and right in all their vast survey Useless besides-reasoning, I oft admire How Nature, wise and frugal, could commit
Such disproportions, with superfiuous hand So many nobler bodies to create, Greater so manifold, to this one use,
For aught appears, and on their Orbs impose Such restless revolution day by day Repeated, while the sedentary Earth, That better might with far less compass move, Served by more noble than herself, attains Her end without least motion, and receives, As tribute, such a sumless journey brought Of incorporeal speed, her warmth and light: Speed, to describe whose swiftness number fails."
So spake our Sire, and by his countenance seemed Entering on studious thoughts abstruse; which Eve Perceiving, where she sat retired in sight, With lowliness majestic from her seat,
And grace that won who saw to wish her stay, Rose, and went forth among her fruits and flowers, To visit how they prospered, bud and bloom, Her nursery; they at her coming sprung,
And, touched by her fair tendance, gladlier grew. Yet went she not as not with such discourse Delighted, or not capable her ear
Of what was high. Such pleasure she reserved, Adam relating, she sole auditress; Her husband the relater she preferred
Before the Angel, and of him to ask
Chose rather; he, she knew, would intermix
Grateful digressions, and solve high dispute
With conjugal caresses: from his lip
Not words alone pleased her. Oh, when meet now
Such pairs, in love and mutual honour joined?
With goddess-like demeanour forth she went,
Not unattended; for on her as Queen
A pomp of winning Graces waited still, And from about her shot darts of desire
Into all eyes, to wish her still in sight.
And Raphael now to Adam's doubt proposed
Benevolent and facile thus replied:
"To ask or search I blame thee not; for Heaven Is as the Book of God before thee set, Wherein to read his wondrous works, and learn His seasons, hours, or days, or months, or years. This to attain, whether Heaven move or Earth Imports not, if thou reckon right; the rest From Man or Angel the great Architect Did wisely to conceal, and not divulge
His secrets, to be scanned by them who ought Rather admire. Or, if they list to try Conjecture, he his fabric of the Heavens Hath left to their disputes-perhaps to move His laughter at their quaint opinions wide Hereafter, when they come to model Heaven, And calculate the stars; how they will wield The mighty frame; how build, unbuild, contrive To save appearances; how gird the Sphere With Centric and Eccentric scribbled o'er, Cycle and Epicycle, Orb in Orb.
Already by thy reasoning this I guess,
Who art to lead thy offspring, and supposest
That bodies bright and greater should not serve
The less not bright, nor Heaven such journeys run, Earth sitting still, when she alone receives The benefit. Consider, first, that great Or bright infers not excellence. The Earth, Though, in comparison of Heaven, so small, Nor glistering, may of solid good contain More plenty than the Sun that barren shines, Whose virtue on itself works no effect, But in the fruitful Earth; there first received, His beams, unactive else, their vigour find. Yet not to Earth are those bright luminaries Officious, but to thee, Earth's habitant.
And, for the Heaven's wide circuit, let it speak The Maker's high magnificence, who built So spacious, and his line stretched out so far,
That Man may know he dwells not in his own— An edifice too large for him to fill, Lodged in a small partition, and the rest Ordained for uses to his Lord best known. The swiftness of those Circles attribute, Though numberless, to his omnipotence, That to corporeal substances could add
Speed almost spiritual. Me thou think'st not slow, Who since the morning-hour set out from Heaven Where God resides, and ere mid-day arrived In Eden-distance inexpressible
By numbers that have name. Admitting motion in the Heavens, to show Invalid that which thee to doubt it moved; Not that I so affirm, though so it seem
To thee who hast thy dwelling here on Earth. God, to remove his ways from human sense,
Placed Heaven from Earth so far, that earthly sight,
"So sung they, and the Empyrean rung With halleluiahs. Thus was Sabbath kept. And thy request think now fulfilled, that asked How first this World and face of things began, And what before thy memory was done From the beginning, that posterity,
Informed by thee, might know. If else thou seek'st Aught, not surpassing human measure, say."
THE END OF THE SEVENTH BOOK.
« 이전계속 » |