What sit we then projecting peace and war? War hath determined us, and foiled with loss Irreparable; terms of peace yet none Vouchsafed or sought; for what peace To us enslaved, but custody severe, And stripes, and arbitrary punishment Inflicted? and what peace can we return, But to our power hostility and hate,
Untamed reluctance, and revenge though slow, Yet ever plotting how the conquerour least his conquest, and may least rejoice
May reap In doing what we most in suffering feel? Nor will occasion want, nor shall we need
With dangerous expedition to invade
Heaven, 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 prophetick fame in Heaven Err not,) another world, the happy seat
Of some new race called Man, about this time To be created like to us, though less
In power and excellence, but favoured more
Of Him who rules above; so was his will Pronounced among the Gods, and by an oath, That shook Heaven's whole circumference, confirmed. Thither let us bend all our thoughts, to learn
What creatures there inhabit, of what mould,
Or substance, how endued, and what their power, And where their weakness, how attempted best, By force or subtlety. Though Heaven be shut, And Heaven's high Arbitrator sit secure
In his own strength, this place may lie exposed, The utmost border of his kingdom, left To their defence who hold it: Here perhaps Some advantageous act may be achieved 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,
Hurled 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 devised By Satan, and in part proposed: 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 Pleased 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 judged, well ended long debate, Synod of Gods! and, like to what ye are, Great things resolved, which, from the lowest deep, Will once more lift us up, in spite of fate,
Nearer our ancient seat; perhaps in view
Of those bright confines, whence with neighbouring arms And opportune excursion, we may chance Re-enter Heaven; or else in some mild zone Dwell, not unvisited of Heaven's fair light, Secure; and at the brightening orient beam Purge off this gloom: the soft delicious air,
To heal the scar of those 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 wandering feet The dark unbottomed infinite abyss,
And through the palpable obscure find out
His uncouth way, or spread his aery flight Upborne with undefatigable 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 look suspense, awaiting who appeared To second, or oppose, or undertake The perilous attempt: but all sat mute,
Pondering the danger with deep thoughts; and each In other's countenance read his own dismay, Astonished: None among the choice and prime
Of those Heaven-warring champions could be found 424 So hardy, as to proffer or accept,
Alone, the dreadful voyage; till at last
Satan, whom now transcendent glory raised
Above his fellows, with monarchal pride, Conscious of highest worth, unmoved thus spake.
O Progeny of Heaven, empyreal Thrones!
With reason hath deep silence and demur Seized us, though undismayed: 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, Barred over us, prohibit all egress.
These passed, if any pass, the void profound Of unessential Night receives him next Wide gaping, and with utter loss of being Threatens him, plunged 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 sovranty, adorned
With splendour, armed with power, if aught proposed And judged of publick 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 honoured sits? Go, therefore, mighty Powers, Terrour of Heaven, though fallen! intend at home, While here shall be our home, what best may ease
« PreviousContinue » |