Paradise Lost (eBook)

Fall'n Cherube, to be weak is miserable
  Doing or Suffering: but of this be sure,
  To do ought good never will be our task,
  But ever to do ill our sole delight,
  As being the contrary to his high will
  Whom we resist. If then his Providence
  Out of our evil seek to bring forth good,
  Our labour must be to pervert that end,
  And out of good still to find means of evil;
  Which oft times may succeed, so as perhaps
  Shall grieve him, if I fail not, and disturb
  His inmost counsels from their destind aim.
  But see the angry Victor hath recall'd
  His Ministers of vengeance and pursuit
  Back to the Gates of Heav'n: The Sulphurous Hail
  Shot after us in storm, oreblown hath laid
  The fiery Surge, that from the Precipice
  Of Heav'n receiv'd us falling, and the Thunder,
  Wing'd with red Lightning and impetuous rage,
  Perhaps hath spent his shafts, and ceases now
  To bellow through the vast and boundless Deep.
  Let us not slip th' occasion, whether scorn,
  Or satiate fury yield it from our Foe.
  Seest thou yon dreary Plain, forlorn and wilde,
  The seat of desolation, voyd of light,
  Save what the glimmering of these livid flames
  Casts pale and dreadful? Thither let us tend
  From off the tossing of these fiery waves,
  There rest, if any rest can harbour there,
  And reassembling our afflicted Powers,
  Consult how we may henceforth most offend
  Our Enemy, our own loss how repair,
  How overcome this dire Calamity,
  What reinforcement we may gain from Hope,
  If not what resolution from despare.

Thus Satan talking to his neerest Mate
  With Head up-lift above the wave, and Eyes
  That sparkling blaz'd, his other Parts besides
  Prone on the Flood, extended long and large
  Lay floating many a rood, in bulk as huge
  As whom the Fables name of monstrous size,
  TITANIAN, or EARTH-BORN, that warr'd on JOVE,
  BRIARIOS or TYPHON, whom the Den
  By ancient TARSUS held, or that Sea-beast
  LEVIATHAN, which God of all his works
  Created hugest that swim th' Ocean stream:
  Him haply slumbring on the NORWAY foam
  The Pilot of some small night-founder'd Skiff,
  Deeming some Island, oft, as Sea-men tell,
  With fixed Anchor in his skaly rind
  Moors by his side under the Lee, while Night
  Invests the Sea, and wished Morn delayes:
  So stretcht out huge in length the Arch-fiend lay
  Chain'd on the burning Lake, nor ever thence
  Had ris'n or heav'd his head, but that the will
  And high permission of all-ruling Heaven
  Left him at large to his own dark designs,
  That with reiterated crimes he might
  Heap on himself damnation, while he sought
  Evil to others, and enrag'd might see
  How all his malice serv'd but to bring forth
  Infinite goodness, grace and mercy shewn
  On Man by him seduc't, but on himself
  Treble confusion, wrath and vengeance pour'd.
  Forthwith upright he rears from off the Pool
  His mighty Stature; on each hand the flames
  Drivn backward slope their pointing spires, & rowld
  In billows, leave i'th' midst a horrid Vale.
  Then with expanded wings he stears his flight
  Aloft, incumbent on the dusky Air
  That felt unusual weight, till on dry Land
  He lights, if it were Land that ever burn'd
  With solid, as the Lake with liquid fire;
  And such appear'd in hue, as when the force
  Of subterranean wind transports a Hill
  Torn from PELORUS, or the shatter'd side
  Of thundring AETNA, whose combustible
  And fewel'd entrals thence conceiving Fire,
  Sublim'd with Mineral fury, aid the Winds,
  And leave a singed bottom all involv'd
  With stench and smoak: Such resting found the sole
  Of unblest feet. Him followed his next Mate,
  Both glorying to have scap't the STYGIAN flood
  As Gods, and by their own recover'd strength,
  Not by the sufferance of supernal Power.

Is this the Region, this the Soil, the Clime,
  Said then the lost Arch Angel, this the seat
  That we must change for Heav'n, this mournful gloom
  For that celestial light? Be it so, since hee
  Who now is Sovran can dispose and bid
  What shall be right: fardest from him is best
  Whom reason hath equald, force hath made supream
  Above his equals. Farewel happy Fields
  Where Joy for ever dwells: Hail horrours, hail
  Infernal world, and thou profoundest Hell
  Receive thy new Possessor: One who brings
  A mind not to be chang'd by Place or Time.
  The mind is its own place, and in it self
  Can make a Heav'n of Hell, a Hell of Heav'n.
  What matter where, if I be still the same,
  And what I should be, all but less then hee
  Whom Thunder hath made greater? Here at least
  We shall be free; th' Almighty hath not built
  Here for his envy, will not drive us hence:
  Here we may reign secure, and in my choyce
  To reign is worth ambition though in Hell:
  Better to reign in Hell, then serve in Heav'n.
  But wherefore let we then our faithful friends,
  Th' associates and copartners of our loss
  Lye thus astonisht on th' oblivious Pool,
  And call them not to share with us their part
  In this unhappy Mansion, or once more
  With rallied Arms to try what may be yet
  Regaind in Heav'n, or what more lost in Hell?

So SATAN spake, and him BEELZEBUB
  Thus answer'd. Leader of those Armies bright,
  Which but th' Omnipotent none could have foyld,
  If once they hear that voyce, their liveliest pledge
  Of hope in fears and dangers, heard so oft
  In worst extreams, and on the perilous edge
  Of battel when it rag'd, in all assaults
  Their surest signal, they will soon resume
  New courage and revive, though now they lye
  Groveling and prostrate on yon Lake of Fire,
  As we erewhile, astounded and amaz'd,
  No wonder, fall'n such a pernicious highth.

He scarce had ceas't when the superiour Fiend
  Was moving toward the shore; his ponderous shield
  Ethereal temper, massy, large and round,
  Behind him cast; the broad circumference
  Hung on his shoulders like the Moon, whose Orb
  Through Optic Glass the TUSCAN Artist views
  At Ev'ning from the top of FESOLE,
  Or in VALDARNO, to descry new Lands,
  Rivers or Mountains in her spotty Globe.
  His Spear, to equal which the tallest Pine
  Hewn on NORWEGIAN hills, to be the Mast
  Of some great Ammiral, were but a wand,
  He walkt with to support uneasie steps
  Over the burning Marle, not like those steps
  On Heavens Azure, and the torrid Clime
  Smote on him sore besides, vaulted with Fire;
  Nathless he so endur'd, till on the Beach
  Of that inflamed Sea, he stood and call'd
  His Legions, Angel Forms, who lay intrans't
  Thick as Autumnal Leaves that strow the Brooks
  In VALLOMBROSA, where th' ETRURIAN shades
  High overarch't imbowr; or scatterd sedge
  Afloat, when with fierce Winds ORION arm'd
  Hath vext the Red-Sea Coast, whose waves orethrew
  BUSIRIS and his MEMPHIAN Chivalrie,
  VVhile with perfidious hatred they pursu'd
  The Sojourners of GOSHEN, who...