To town or village nigh (nighest is far,)
Where aught we hear, and curious are to hear,
What happens new; fame also finds us out."

To whom the Son of God: "Who brought me hither,

Will bring me hence; no other guide I seek."
"By miracle he may,” replied the swain;
"What other way I see not; for we here
Live on tough roots and stubs, to thirst inured
More than the camel, and to drink go far,
Men to much misery and hardship born:
But, if thou be the Son of God, command
That out of these hard stones be made thee bread:
So shalt thou save thyself, and us relieve
With food, wherereof we wretched' seldom taste."

He ended, and the Son of God replied:

"Think'st thou such force in bread? Is it not written
(For I discern thee other than thou seem'st,)
Man lives not by bread only, but each word
Proceeding from the mouth of God, who fed
Our fathers here with manna; in the mount
Moses was forty days, nor ate, nor drank;
And forty days, Elijah, without food,
Wander'd this barren waste; the same I now:
Why dost thou, then, suggest to me distrust,
Knowing who I am, as I know who thou art ?"
Whom thus answer'd the arch-fiend, now undis-
guised:

""Tis true, I am that spirit unfortunate,

Who, leagued with millions more in rash revolt, Kept not my happy station but was driven

With them from bliss to the bottomless deep;
Yet to that hideous place not so confined
By rigour unconniving, but that oft,
Leaving my dolorous prison, I enjoy

Large liberty to round this globe of earth,

Or range in the air; nor from the heaven of heavens
Hath he excluded my resort sometimes.

I came among the sons of God, when he
Gave up into my hands Uzzean Job,
To prove him, and illustrate his high worth;
And, when to all his angels he proposed
To draw the proud king Ahab into fraud,
That he might fall in Ramoth,,they demurring,
I undertook that office, and the tongues
Of all his flattering prophets glibb'd with lies
To his destruction, as I had in charge;
For what he bids I do. Though I have lost
Much lustre of my native brightness, lost
To be beloved of God, I have not lost
To love, at least contemplate and admire,
What I see excellent in good, or fair,

Or virtuous; I should so have lost all sense:
What can be then less in me than desire
To see thee, and approach thee, whom I know
Declared the Son of God, to hear attent
Thy wisdom, and behold thy God-like deeds?
Men generally think me much a foe

To all mankind: why should I? they to me
Never did wrong or violence: by them

I lost not what I lost, rather by them

I gain'd what I have gain'd, and with them dwell,

Copartner in these regions of the world,
If not disposer; lend them oft my aid,
Oft my advice by presages and signs,
And answers, oracles, portents, and dreams,
Whereby they may direct their future life.
Envy they say excites me, thus to gain
Companions of my misery and woe.

At first it may be; but long since with woe
Nearer acquainted, now I feel, by proof,
That fellowship in pain divides not smart,
Nor lightens aught each man's peculiar load.
Small consolation, then, were man adjoin'd.
This wounds me most (what can it less?) that man,
Man fallen, shall be restored; I never more."
To whom our Saviour sternly thus replied:
"Deservedly thou grievest, composed of lies
From the beginning, and in lies wilt end;

Who boast'st release from hell, and leave to come
Into the heaven of heavens: thou comest, indeed,
As a poor miserable captive thrall

Comes to the place where he before had sat
Among the prime in splendour, now deposed,
Ejected, emptied, gazed, unpitied, shunn'd,
A spectacle of ruin, or of scorn,

To all the host of heaven; the happy place
Imparts to thee no happiness, no joy;
Rather inflames thy torment, representing
Lost bliss, to thee no more communicable;
So never more in hell than when in heaven.
But thou art serviceable to heaven's King.
Wilt thou impute to obedience what thy fear

Extorts, or pleasure to do ill excites?
What but thy malice moved thee to misdeem
Of righteous Job, then cruelly to afflict him
With all inflictions? but his patience won.
The other service was thy chosen task,
To be a liar in four hundred mouths;
For lying is thy sustenance, thy food,
Yet thou pretend'st to truth; all oracles
By thee are given, and what confess'd more true
Among the nations? that hath been thy craft,
By mixing somewhat true, to vent more lies.
But what have been thy answers, what but dark,
Ambiguous, and with double sense deluding,
Which they who ask'd have seldom understood,
And, not well understood, as good not known?
Who ever, by consulting at thy shrine,
Return'd the wiser, or the more instruct,
To fly or follow what concern'd him most,
And run not sooner to his fatal snare?
For God hath justly given the nations up
To thy delusions: justly, since they fell
Idolatrous: but, when his purpose is
Among them to declare his providence,
To thee not known, whence hast thou then thy truth,
But from him, or his angels president

In every province, who, themselves disdaining
To approach thy temples, give thee in command
What, to the smallest tittle, thou shalt say
To thy adorers? Thou, with trembling fear,
Or like a fawning parasite, obey'st:
Then to thyself ascribest the truth foretold.

But this thy glory shall be soon retrench'd;
No more shalt thou, by oracling, abuse
The Gentiles; henceforth oracles are ceased,
And thou no more, with pomp and sacrifice,
Shalt be inquired at Delphos, or elsewhere;
At least in vain, for they shall find thee mute.
God hath now sent his living oracle

Into the world to teach his final will;

And sends his Spirit of truth henceforth to dwell In pious hearts, an inward oracle

To all truth requisite for men to know."

So spake our Saviour; but the subtle fiend, Though inly stung with anger and disdain, Dissembled, and this answer smooth return'd: "Sharply thou hast insisted on rebuke,

And urged me hard with doings, which not will,
But misery, hath wrested from me. Where
Easily canst thou find one miserable,
And not enforced oft-times to part from truth,
If it may stand him more in stead to lie,
Say and unsay, feign, flatter, or abjure?
But thou art placed above me, thou art Lord:
From thee I can, and must, submiss, endure
Check or reproof, and glad to 'scape so quit.
Hard are the ways of truth, and rough to walk,
Smooth on the tongue discourse, pleasing to the ear,
And tunable as sylvan pipe or song;

What wonder, then, if I delight to hear

Her dictates from thy mouth? Most men admire Virtue, who follow not her lore: permit me

To hear thee when I come (since no man comes,)