But if the sense of touch, whereby mankind
Is propagated, seem such dear delight,

Beyond all other, think the same vouchsafed
To cattle and each beast; which would not be
To them made common and divulged, if aught
Therein enjoyed were worthy to subdue
The soul of man, or passion in him move.
What higher, in her society, thou find'st
Attractive, human, rational, love still;
In loving thou dost well; in passion not,
Wherein true love consists not; love refines
The thoughts and heart enlarges, hath its seat
In reason, and is judicious, is the scale

By which to heavenly love thou may'st ascend,
Not sunk in carnal pleasure; for which cause
Among the beasts no mate for thee was found."

To whom thus, half abash'd, Adam replied:
"Neither her outside, form'd so fair, nor aught
In procreation, common to all kinds,
(Though higher of the genial bed by far
And with mysterious reverence I deem,)
So much delights me, as those graceful acts,
Those thousand decencies, that daily flow
From all her words and actions, mix'd with love,
And sweet compliance, which declare unfeign'd
Union of mind, or in us both one soul;
Harmony to behold in wedded pair,

More grateful than harmonious sound to the ear.
Yet these subject not; I to thee disclose
What inward thence I feel, not therefore foil'd,
Who meet with various objects from the sense

Variously representing; yet still free,

Approve the best, and follow what I approve.

To love thou blamest me not; for love, thou say'st, Leads up to heaven, is both the way and guide; Bear with me then, if lawful what I ask.

Love not the heavenly spirits? and how their love Express they? by looks only, or do they mix Irradiance, virtual or immediate touch?"

To whom the angel, with a smile that glow'd Celestial rosy red, love's proper hue,

Answered: "Let it suffice thee, that thou know'st
Us happy; and without love no happiness.
Whatever pure thou in the body enjoy'st,
(And pure thou wert created,) we enjoy
In eminence, and obstacle find none,
Of membrane, joint, or limb, exclusive bars;
Easier than air with air, if spirits embrace,
Total they mix, union of pure with pure
Desiring; nor restrain'd conveyance need,
As flesh to mix with flesh, or soul with soul.
But I can now no more; the parting sun,
Beyond the earth's green cape and verdant isles
Hesperian, sets; my signal to depart.

Be strong, live happy, and love, but, first of all,
Him, whom to love is to obey, and keep
His great command; take heed, lest passion sway
Thy judgment to do aught which else free will
Would not admit: thine, and of all thy sons,
The weal or woe in thee is placed: beware!
I in thy persevering shall rejoice,

And all the blest: stand fast; to stand or fall,

Free, in thine own arbitrement it lies.
Perfect within, no outward aid require;
And all temptation to transgress repel."

So saying, he arose: whom Adam thus
Follow'd with benediction: "Since to part,
Go, heavenly guest, ethereal messenger,
Sent from whose sovereign goodness I adore.
Gentle to me, and affable hath been

Thy condescension; and shall be honour'd ever
With grateful memory: thou to mankind
Be good and friendly still, and oft return."
So parted they; the angel up to heaven,
From the thick shade, and Adam to his bower.

END OF BOOK VIIL

PARADISE LOST.

BOOK IX.

THE ARGUMENT.

Satan, having compassed the earth, with meditated guile returns, as a mist, by night into Paradise, and enters into the serpent sleeping. Adam and Eve in the morning go forth to their labours, which Eve proposes to divide in several places, each labouring apart. Adam consents not, alleging the danger, lest that enemy, of whom they were forewarned, should attempt her found alone. Eve, loath to be thought not circumspect or firm enough, urges her going apart, the rather desirous to make trial of her strength: Adam at last yields. The serpent finds her alone; his subtle approach, first gazing, then speaking, with much flattery extolling Eve above all other creatures. Eve, wondering to hear the serpent speak, ask show he attained to human speech and such understanding, not till now: the serpent answers, that by tasting of a certain tree in the garden he attained both to speech and reason, till then void of both. Eve requires him to bring her to that tree, and finds it to be the tree of knowledge forbidden. The serpent, now grown bolder, with many wiles and arguments induces her at length to eat; she pleased with the taste, deliberates awhile whether to impart thereof to Adam or not; at last brings him of the fruit; relates what persuaded her to eat thereof. Adam, at first amazed, but perceiving her lost, resolves, through vehemence of love, to perish with her; and, extenuating the trespass, eats also of the fruit. The effects thereof in them both; they seek to cover their nakedness; then full to variance and accusation of one another.