How such united force of Gods, how such As stood like these, could ever know repulse? For who can yet believe, though after loss, That all these puissant legions, whose exile Hath emptied Heav'n, shall fail to re-ascend, Self-raised, and repossess their native seat? For me be witness all the host of Heaven, If counsels different, or danger shunn'd
By me, have lost our hopes. But he who reigns Monarch in Heav'n, till then as one secure Sat on his throne, upheld by old repute, Consent or custom, and his regal state
Put forth at full; but still his strength conceal'd, Which tempted our attempt, and wrought our fall. Henceforth his might we know, and know our own, So as not either to provoke, or dread
New war, provok'd; our better part remains To work in close design, by fraud or guile, What force effected not; that he no less At length from us may find, who overcomes By force, hath overcome but half his foe. Space may produce new worlds; whereof so rife There went a fame in Heav'n, that he ere long Intended to create, and therein plant A generation, whom his choice regard Should favour equal to the sons of Heav'n: Thither, if but to pry, shall be perhaps Our first eruption, thither or elsewhere: For this infernal pit shall never hold Celestial spirits in bondage, nor th' abyss Long under darkness cover. But these thoughts Full council must mature: peace is despair'd, For who can think submission? War then, war, Open or understood, must be resolv'd.
He spake and to confirm his words, out flew Millions of flaming swords, drawn from the thighs Of mighty cherubim; the sudden blaze
Far round illumin'd Hell: highly they rag'd Against the Highest, and fierce with grasped arms Clash'd on their sounding shields the din of war, Hurling defiance tow'rd the vault of Heav'n.
There stood a hill not far, whose grisly top Belch'd fire and rolling smoke; the rest entire Shone with a glossy scurf, undoubted sign That in his womb was hid metallic ore, The work of sulphur. Thither wing'd with speed A numerous brigade hasten'd: as when bands Of pioneers, with spade and pick-axe arm'd, Forerun the royal camp, to trench a field, Or cast a rampart. Mammon led them on, Mammon, the least erected spirit that fell From Heav'n, for ev'n in Heav'n his looks and thoughts Were always downward bent, admiring more The riches of Heav'n's pavement, trodden gold, Than aught divine, or holy else enjoy'd In vision beatific: by him first
Men also, and by his suggestion taught, Ransack'd the centre, and with impious hands Rifled the bowels of their mother Earth For treasures better hid. Soon had his crew Open'd into the hill a spacious wound, And digg'd out ribs of gold. Let none admire That riches grow in Hell; that soil may best Deserve the precious bane. And here let those Who boast in mortal things, and wond'ring tell Of Babel, and the works of Memphian kings,
Learn how their greatest monuments of fame And strength and art are easily out-done By spirits reprobate, and in an hour What in an age they with incessant toil, And hands innumerable scarce perform. Nigh on the plain in many cells prepar'd, That underneath had veins of liquid fire Sluic'd from the lake, a second multitude With wondrous art founded the massy ore, Sev'ring each kind, and scumm'd the bullion dross; A third as soon had form'd within the ground A various mould, and from the boiling cells, By strange conveyance, fill'd each hollow nook, As in an organ from one blast of wind To many a row of pipes the sound-board breathes. Anon out of the earth a fabric huge Rose like an exhalation, with the sound Of dulcet symphonies and voices sweet, Built like a temple, where pilasters round Were set, and Doric pillars overlaid With golden architrave; nor did there want Cornice or frieze, with bossy sculptures graven; The roof was fretted gold. Not Babylon, Nor great Alcairo such magnificence Equall'd in all their glories, to enshrine Belus or Serapis their Gods, or seat
Their kings, when Egypt with Assyria strove In wealth and luxury. Th' ascending pile Stood fix'd her stately height, and straight the doors Opening their brazen folds, discover wide Within her ample spaces o'er the smooth And level pavement: from the arched roof Pendent by subtle magic, many a row Of starry lamps and blazing cressets, fed With Naphtha and Asphaltus, yielded light As from a sky. The hasty multitude Admiring enter'd, and the work some praise, And some the Architect: his hand was known In Heav'n by many a towered structure high, Where scepter'd angels held their residence, And sat as princes, whom the supreme King Exalted to such power, and gave to rule, Each in his hierarchy, the orders bright. Nor was his name unheard or unador'd In ancient Greece; and in Ausonian land Men call'd him Mulciber: and how he fell From Heav'n they fabled, thrown by angry Jove Sheer o'er the crystal battlements: from morn To noon he fell, from noon to dewy eve, A summer's day; and with the setting sun Dropt from the zenith, like a falling star, On Lemnos th' Ægcan isle: thus they relate, Erring; for he with his rebellious rout
Fell long before; nor ought avail'd him now T' have built in Heav'n high tow'rs; nor did he 'scape By all his engines, but was headlong sent, With his industrious crew, to build in Hell.
Meanwhile the winged heralds by command Of sov'reign pow'r, with awful ceremony And trumpet's sound, throughout the host proclaim A solemn council forthwith to be held At Pandemonium, the high capital Of Satan and his peers: their summons call'd From every band and squared regiment By place or choice the worthiest; they anon With hundreds and with thousands trooping came
Attended: all access was throng'd, the gates, And porches wide, but chief the spacious hall (Though like a cover'd field, where champions bold Wont ride in arm'd, and at the Soldan's chair Defy'd the best of Panim chivalry
To mortal combat, or career with lance) Thick swarm'd, both on the ground and in the air, Brush'd with the hiss of rustling wings. As bees In spring-time, when the sun with Taurus rides, Pour forth their populous youth about the hive In clusters; they among fresh dews and flowers Fly to and fro, or on the smoothed plank, The suburb of their straw-built citadel, New rubb'd with balm, expatiate and confer Their state affairs. So thick the airy crowd Swarm'd and were straiten'd; till the signal given, Behold a wonder! they but now who seem'd In bigness to surpass earth's giant sons, Now less than smallest dwarfs, in narrow room Throng numberless, like that Pygmean race Beyond the Indian mount, or fairy elves, Whose midnight revels by a forest side Or fountain some belated peasant sees, Or dreams he sees, while over-head the moon Sits arbitress, and nearer to the earth
Wheels her pale course; they on their mirth and dance Intent, with jocund music charm his ear; At once with joy and fear his heart rebounds. Thus incorporeal spirits to smallest forms Reduc'd their shapes immense, and were at large, Though without number still amidst the hall Of that infernal court. But far within, And in their own dimensions like themselves, The great seraphic lords and cherubim In close recess and secret conclave sat, A thousand demi-gods on golden seats, Frequent and full. After short silence then, And summons read, the great consult began.
HIGH on a throne of royal state, which far Outshone the wealth of Ormus and of Ind, Or where the gorgeous east with richest hand Show'rs on her kings barbaric pearl and gold, Satan exalted sat, by merit rais'd
To that bad eminence; and from despair Thus high uplifted beyond hope, aspires Beyond thus high, insatiate to pursue Vain war with Heav'n, and, by success untaught, His proud imaginations thus display'd.
Pow'rs and dominions, deities of Heav'n, For since no deep within her gulf can hold Immortal vigour, though oppress'd and fall'n, I give not Heav'n for lost. From this descent Celestial virtues rising, will appear
More glorious and more dread than from no fall, And trust themselves to fear no second fate. Me though just right and the fix'd laws of Heav'n Did first create your leader, next free choice, With what besides, in counsel or in fight, Hath been achiev'd of merit, yet this loss, Thus far at least recover'd, hath much more Establish'd in a safe unenvied throne,
Yielded with full consent. The happier state In Heav'n, which follows dignity, might draw Envy from each inferior; but who here Will envy whom the highest place exposes Foremost to stand against the thund'rer's aim, Your bulwark, and condemns to greatest share Of endless pain? where there is then no good For which to strive, no strife can grow up there From faction; for none sure will claim in Hell Precedence; none whose portion is so small Of present pain, that with ambitious mind Will covet more. With this advantage then To union, and firm faith, and firm accord, More than can be in Heaven, we now return To claim our just inheritance of old, Surer to prosper than prosperity Could have assur'd us; and by what best way, Whether of open war or covert guile,
We now debate; who can advise may speak. He ceas'd; and next him Moloch, scepter'd king, Stood up, the strongest and the fiercest spirit That fought in Heaven, now fiercer by despair: His trust was with th' Eternal to be deem'd Equal in strength, and rather than be less Car'd not to be at all; with that care lost Went all his fear of God, or Hell, or worse He reck'd not, and these words thereafter spake. My sentence is for open war: of wiles, More unexpert, I boast not: them let those Contrive who need, or when they need, not now. For while they sit contriving, shall the rest, Millions that stand in arms, and longing wait The signal to ascend, sit ling'ring here Heav'n's fugitives, and for their dwelling place Accept this dark opprobrious den of shame, The prison of his tyranny who reigns By our delay! No, let us rather choose, Arm'd with Hell-flames and fury, all at once O'er Heav'n's high tow'rs to force resistless way, Turning our tortures into horrid arms Against the torturer; when to meet the noise Of his almighty engine he shall hear Infernal thunder, and for lightning see Black fire and horror shot with equal rage Among his angels, and his throne itself Mix'd with Tartarean sulphur and strange fire, His own invented torments. But, perhaps, The way seems difficult and steep to scale With upright wing against a higher foe. Let such bethink them, if the sleepy drench Of that forgetful lake benumb not still, That in our proper motion we ascend Up to our native seat: descent and fall To us is adverse. Who but felt of late, When the fierce foe hung on our broken rear, Insulting, and pursued us through the deep, With what compulsion and laborious flight, We sunk thus low? Th' ascent is easy then; Th' event is fear'd; should we again provoke Our stronger, some worse way his wrath may find To our destruction; if there be in Hell Fear to be worse destroy'd: what can be worse Than to dwell here, driv'n out from bliss, condemn'd In this abhorred deep to utter woe: Where pain of unextinguishable fire Must exercise us, without hope of end,
The vassals of his anger, when the scourge Inexorably, and the torturing hour
Calls us to penance? More destroy'd than thus, We should be quite abolish'd, and expire. What fear we then? what doubt we to incense His utmost ire? which, to the height enrag'd, Will either quite consume us, and reduce To nothing this essential, happier far Than miserable to have eternal being; Or if our substance be indeed divine, And cannot cease to be, we are at worst On this side nothing; and by proof we feel Our pow'r sufficient to disturb his Heav'n, And with perpetual inroads to alarm, Though inaccessible, his fatal throne: Which, if not victory, is yet revenge.
He ended frowning, and his look denounc'd Desp'rate revenge, and battle dangerous To less than Gods. On th' other side up rose Belial, in act more graceful and humane; A fairer person lost not heav'n; he seem'd For dignity compos'd, and high exploit: But all was false and hollow; though his tongue Dropt manna, and could make the worse appear The better reason, to perplex and dash Maturest counsels: for his thoughts were low, To vice industrious, but to nobler deeds Timorous and slothful: yet he pleas'd the ear, And with persuasive accents thus began:
I should be much for open war, O Peers, As not behind in hate; if what was urg'd Main reason to persuade immediate war, Did not dissuade me most, and seem to cast Ominous conjecture on the whole success: When he who most excels in fact of arms, In what he counsels, and in what excels Mistrustful, grounds his courage on despair, And utter dissolution, as the scope Of all his aim, after some dire revenge.
First, what revenge? the towers of Heav'n are fill'd With armed watch, that render all access Impregnable; oft on the bord'ring deep Encampt their legions, or with obscure wing Scout far and wide into the realm of night, Scorning surprise. Or could we break our way By force, and at our heels all Hell should rise With blackest insurrection, to confound Heav'n's purest light, yet our great enemy, All incorruptible, would on his throne Sit unpolluted, and th' ethereal mould Incapable of stain, would soon expel Her mischief, and purge off the baser fire, Victorious. Thus repuls'd, our final hope Is flat despair: we must exasperate
Th' Almighty Victor to spend all his rage, 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, swallow'd up and lost In the wide womb of uncreated night, 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 To punish endless? Wherefore cease we then? Say they who counsel war, we are decreed, Reserv'd, and destin'd 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, pursu'd and struck With Heav'n's afflicting thunder, and besought The deep to shelter us? this Hell then seem'd A refuge from those wounds: or when we lay Chain'd on the burning lake? that sure was worse. What, if the breath that kindled those grim fires, Awak'd, should blow them into seven-fold 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 open'd, and this firmament Of Hell should spout her cataracts of fire, Impendent horrors, threat'ning hideous fall One day upon our heads; while we, perhaps, Designing or exhorting glorious war, Caught in a fiery tempest, shall be hurl'd Each on his rock transfix'd, the sport and prey Of wracking whirlwinds, or for ever sunk Under yon boiling ocean, wrapt in chains; There to converse with everlasting groans, Unrespited, unpitied, unrepriev'd, Ages of hopeless end? this would be worse. War, therefore, open or conceal'd, 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 Heav'n's height All these our motions vain sees and derides; 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 expell'd 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 resolv'd, 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 vent'rous, 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 Our doom; which if we can sustain and bear, Our supreme foe in time may much remit His anger, and perhaps thus far remov'd, Not mind us not offending, satisfy'd
With what is punish'd; whence these raging fires Will slacken, if his breath stir not their flames. Our purer essence then will overcome Their noxious vapour, or inur'd not feel,
Or chang'd at length, and to the place conform'd In temper and in nature, will receive
Familiar the fierce heat, and void of pain; This horror will grow mild, this darkness light, Besides what hope the never-ending flight
Or pinnace anchors in a craggy bay
Of future days may bring, what chance, what change | Sea-faring men o'erwatch'd, whose bark by chance 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 cloth'd in reason's garb, Counsel'd 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 The latter: for what place can be for us Within Heav'n's bound, unless Heav'n's Lord supreme We overpow'r? 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 impos'd to celebrate his throne With warbled hymns, and to his Godhead sing Fore'd hallelujahs; while he lordly sits Our envied Sov'reign, and his altar breathes Ambrosial odors and ambrosial flowers, Our servile offerings? This must be our task In Heav'n, this our delight; how wearisome Eternity so spent in worship paid
To whom we hate! Let us not then pursue By force impossible, by leave obtain'd Unacceptable, though in Heav'n, 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 Hard liberty before the easy yoke
Of servile pomp. Our greatness will appear Then most conspicuous, when great things of small, Useful of hurtful, prosp'rous of adverse We can create, and in what place soe'er 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 Heav'n's all-ruling sire Choose to reside, his glory unobscur'd, And with the majesty of darkness round
Covers his throne; from whence deep thunders roar, Must'ring their rage, and Heav'n resembles Hell? As he our darkness, cannot we his light Imitate when we please? This desart soil Wants not her hidden lustre, gems and gold; Nor want we skill or art, from whence to raise Magnificence; and what can Heav'n shew more? Our torments also may in length of time Become our elements; these piercing fires As soft as now severe; our temper chang'd Into their temper; which must needs remove The sensible of pain. All things invite To peaceful councils, and the settled state Of order, how in safety best we may Compose our present evils, with regard
Of what we are and were, dismissing quite All thoughts of war. Ye have what I advise.
He scarce had finish'd, when such murmur fill'd Th' assembly, as when hollow rocks retain The sound of blust'ring winds, which all night long Had rous'd the sea, now with hoarse cadence lull
After the tempest: such applause was heard As Mammon ended, and his sentence pleas'd, Advising peace: for such another field They dreaded worse than Hell; so much the fear Of thunder and the sword of Michael Wrought still within them; and no less desire To found this nether empire, which might rise By policy, and long process of time, In emulation opposite to Heav'n.
Which, when Beelzebub perceiv'd, than whom Satan except, none higher sat, with grave Aspect he rose, and in his rising seem'd A pillar of state; deep on his front ingraven Deliberation sat, and public care;
And princely counsel in his face yet shone Majestic, though in ruin: sage he stood, With Atlantean shoulders fit to bear The weight of mightiest monarchies; his look Drew audience and attention still as night Or summer's noon-tide air, while thus he spake : Thrones and imperial pow'rs, offspring of Heav'n, Ethereal virtues; or these titles now
Must we renounce, and changing stile, be call'd Princes of Hell? for so the popular vote Inclines, here to continue, and build up here A growing empire; doubtless, while we dream, And know not that the King of Heav'n hath doom'd This place our dungeon, not our safe retreat Beyond his potent arm, to live exempt From Heav'n's high jurisdiction, in new league Banded against his throne, but to remain In strictest bondage, tho' thus far remov'd, Under th' inevitable curb reserv'd
His captive multitude: for he, be sure,
In height or depth, still first and last will reign Sole king, and of his kingdom lose no part By our revolt, but over Hell extend His empire, and with iron sceptre rule Us here, as with his golden those in Heav'n. What! sit we then projecting peace or war? War hath determin'd us, and foil'd with loss Irreparable; terms of peace yet none Vouchsaf'd or sought; for what peace will be given To us enslav'd, but custody severe, And stripes, and arbitrary punishment Inflicted? and what peace can we return But to our power hostility and hate,
Untam'd reluctance, and revenge, though slow, Yet ever plotting how the Conqu❜ror least May reap his conquest, and may least rejoice In doing what we most in suffering feel? Nor will occasion want, nor shall we need, With dangerous expedition, to invade Heav'n, whose high walls fear no assault or siege, Or ambush from the deep. What, if we find Some easier enterprise? There is a place (If ancient and prophetic fame in Heav'n Err not) another world, the happy seat Of some new race call'd Man, about this time To be created like to us, though less In power and excellence, but favour'd more Of Him who rules above; so was his will Pronounc'd among the Gods, and, by an oath, That shook Heav'n's whole circumference, confirm'd.
Thither let us bend all our thoughts, to learn What creatures there inhabit, of what mould Or substance, how endu'd, and what their power, And where their weakness, how attempted best, By force or subtlety. Though Heav'n be shut, And Heav'n's high Arbitrator sit secure In his own strength, this place may lie expos'd, The utmost border of his kingdom, left To their defence who hold it: here perhaps Some advantageous act may be achiev'd By sudden onset, either with Hell-fire To waste his whole creation, or possess All as our own, and drive, as we were driven, The puny habitants; or if not drive, Seduce them to our party, that their God May prove their foe, and with repenting hand Abolish his own works. This would surpass Common revenge, and interrupt his joy In our confusion, and our joy upraise In his disturbance; when his darling sons, Hurl'd headlong to partake with us, shall curse Their frail original, and faded bliss, Faded so soon. Advise if this be worth Attempting, or to sit in darkness here Hatching vain empires. Thus Beelzebub Pleaded his devilish counsel, first devis'd By Satan, and in part propos'd: for whence, But from the author of all ill, could spring So deep a malice, to confound the race Of mankind in one root, and Earth with Hell To mingle and involve, done all to spite The great Creator? But their spite still serves His glory to augment. The bold design Pleas'd highly those infernal states, and joy Sparkled in all their eyes; with full assent They vote: whereat his speech he thus renews: Well have ye judg'd, well ended long debate, Synod of Gods, and like to what ye are,
Great things resolv'd, which from the lowest deep Will once more lift us up, in spite of fate, Nearer our ancient seat; perhaps in view
The perilous attempt: but all sat mute, Pond'ring the danger with deep thoughts; and each In other's count'nance read his own dismay, Astonish'd: none among the choice and prime Of those Heav'n-warring champions could be found So hardy as to proffer or accept
Alone the dreadful voyage; till at last Satan, whom now transcendent glory rais'd Above his fellows, with monarchal pride Conscious of highest worth, unmov'd, thus spake: O progeny of Heav'n! empyreal thrones! With reason hath deep silence and demur Seiz'd us, though undismay'd: long is the way, And hard, that out of Hell leads up to light; Our prison strong; this huge convex of fire, Outrageous to devour, immures us round Ninefold, and gates of burning adamant Barr'd over us, prohibit all egress. These pass'd, if any pass, the void profound Of unessential night receives him next Wide gaping, and with utter loss of being Threatens him, plung'd in that abortive gulf. If thence he 'scape, into whatever world, Or unknown region, what remains him less Than unknown dangers, and as hard escape? But I should ill become this throne, O Peers! And this imperial sov'reignty, adorn'd
With splendor, arm'd with power, if aught propos'd And judg'd of public moment, in the shape Of difficulty or danger could deter
Me from attempting. Wherefore do I assume These royalties, and not refuse to reign, Refusing to accept as great a share Of hazard as of honour, due alike
To him who reigns, and so much to him due Of hazard more, as he above the rest
High honour'd sits? Go, therefore, mighty powers, Terror of Heav'n, tho' fall'n; intend at home, While here shall be our home, what best may ease The present misery, and render Hell More tolerable; if there be cure or charm
Of those bright confines, whence with neighb'ring arms To respite, or deceive, or slack the pain
And opportune excursion, we may chance
Re-enter Heav'n; or else in some mild zone
Dwell not unvisited of Heav'n's fair light Secure, and at the brightening orient beam Purge off this gloom; the soft delicious air, To heal the scar of these corrosive fires,
Shall breathe her balm. But first, whom shall we send In search of this new world? whom shall we find Sufficient? who shall tempt with wand'ring feet The dark unbottom'd infinite abyss, And through the palpable obscure find out His uncouth way, or spread his airy flight, Upborne with indefatigable wings Over the vast abrupt, ere he arrive
The happy isle; what strength, what art can then Suffice, or what evasion bear him safe Through the strict senteries and stations thick Of angels watching round? Here he had need All circumspection, and we now no less Choice in our suffrage; for on whom we send, The weight of all and our last hope relies.
This said, he sat; and expectation held His looks suspense, awaiting who appear'd To second, or oppose, or undertake
Of this ill mansion: intermit no watch Against a wakeful foe, while I abroad
Through all the coasts of dark destruction, seek Deliverance for us all: this enterprise None shall partake with me. Thus saying, rose The monarch, and prevented all reply, Prudent, lest from his resolution rais'd, Others among the chief might offer now (Certain to be refus'd) what erst they fear'd; And so refus'd, might in opinion stand His rivals, winning cheap the high repute Which he through hazard huge must earn. But they Dreaded not more th' adventure than his voice Forbidding; and at once with him they rose; Their rising all at once was as the sound
Of thunder heard remote. Tow'rds him they bend With awful reverence prone; and as a God Extol him equal to the High'st in Heav'n: Nor fail'd they to express how much they prais'd, That for the gencral safety he despis'd His own: for neither do the spirits damn'd Lose all their virtue; lest bad men should boast Their specious deeds on earth, which glory excites, Or close ambition varnish'd o'er with zeal.
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