کتاب 11

BOOK XI

THE ARGUMENT

The Son of God presents to his Father the prayers of our first parents now repenting, and intercedes for them. God accepts them, but declares that they must no longer abide in Paradise; sends Michael with a band of Cherubim to dispossess them; but first to reveal to Adam future things; Michael’s coming down. Adam shows to Eve certain ominous signs; he discerns Michael’s approach, goes out to meet him: the angel denounces their departure. Eve’s lamentation. Adam pleads, but submits. The angel leads him up to a high hill, sets before him in vision what shall happen till the Flood.

Thus they in lowliest plight repentant stood

Praying, for from the mercy-seat above

Prevenient grace descending had removed

The stony from their hearts, and made new flesh Regenerate grow instead, that sighs now breathed Unutterable, which the spirit of prayer

Inspired, and winged for Heav’n with speedier flight Then loudest oratory: yet their port

Not of mean suitors, nor important less

Seemed their petition, than when th’ ancient pair In fables old, less ancient yet than these,

Deucalion and chaste Pyrrha to restore

The race of mankind drowned, before the shrine Of Themis stood devout. To Heav’n their prayers Flew up, nor miss’d the way, by envious winds Blown vagabond or frustrate: in they passed

Dimensionless through Heav’nly doors; then clad With incense, where the golden altar fumed,

By their great Intercessor, came in sight

Before the Father’s throne: them the glad Son Presenting, thus to intercede began.

“See Father, what first fruits on Earth are sprung From thy implanted grace in man, these sighs

And prayers, which in this golden censer, mixed With incense, I thy priest before thee bring, Fruits of more pleasing savor from thy seed

Sown with contrition in his heart, than those Which his own hand manuring all the trees

Of Paradise could have produced, ere fall’n

From innocence. Now therefore bend thine ear

To supplication, hear his sighs though mute;

Unskillful with what words to pray, let me

Interpret for him, me his advocate

And propitiation, all his works on me

Good or not good ingraft; my merit those

Shall perfect, and for these my death shall pay.

Accept me, and in me from these receive

The smell of peace toward mankind, let him live Before thee reconciled, at least his days

Numbered, though sad, till death, his doom (which I To mitigate thus plead, not to reverse)

To better life shall yield him, where with me All my redeemed may dwell in joy and bliss,

Made one with me as I with thee am one.”

To whom the Father, without cloud, serene.

“All thy request for man, accepted Son,

Obtain, all thy request was my decree:

But longer in that Paradise to dwell,

The law I gave to nature him forbids:

Those pure immortal elements that know

No gross, no unharmonious mixture foul,

Eject him tainted now, and purge him off

As a distemper, gross to air as gross,

And mortal food, as may dispose him best

For dissolution wrought by sin, that first

Distempered all things, and of incorrupt

Corrupted. I at first with two fair gifts

Created him endowed, with happiness

And immortality: that fondly lost,

This other served but to eternize woe;

Till I provided death; so death becomes

His final remedy, and after life

Tried in sharp tribulation, and refined

By faith and faithful works, to second life,

Waked in the renovation of the just,

Resigns him up with heav’n and Earth renewed.

But let us call to synod all the blest

Through Heav’n’s wide bounds; from them I will not hide My judgments, how with mankind I proceed,

As how with peccant angels late they saw;

And in their state, though firm, stood more confirmed.” He ended, and the Son gave signal high

To the bright minister that watched; he blew

His trumpet, heard in Oreb since perhaps

When God descended, and perhaps once more

To sound at general doom. Th’ angelic blast

Filled all the regions: from their blissful bow’rs Of amarantine shade, fountain or spring,

By the waters of life, where’er they sat

In fellowships of joy: the sons of light

Hasted, resorting to the summons high,

And took their seats; till from his throne supreme Th’ Almighty thus pronounced his sov’reign will.

“O Sons, like one of us man is become

To know both good and evil, since his taste

Of that defended fruit; but let him boast

His knowledge of good lost, and evil got,

Happier, had it sufficed him to have known

Good by itself, and evil not at all.

He sorrows now, repents, and prays contrite,

My motions in him; longer than they move,

His heart I know, how variable and vain

Self-left. Lest therefore his now bolder hand Reach also of the Tree of Life, and eat,

And live forever, dream at least to live

Forever, to remove him I decree,

And send him from the garden forth to till

The ground whence he was taken, fitter soil.

“Michael, this my behest have thou in charge, Take to thee from among the Cherubim

Thy choice of flaming warriors, lest the fiend Or in behalf of man, or to invade

Vacant possession, some new trouble raise:

Haste thee, and from the Paradise of God

Without remorse drive out the sinful pair,

From hallowed ground th’ unholy, and denounce To them and to their progeny from thence

Perpetual banishment. Yet lest they faint

At the sad sentence rigorously urged,

For I behold them softened and with tears

Bewailing their excess, all terror hide.

If patiently thy bidding they obey,

Dismiss them not disconsolate; reveal

To Adam what shall come in future days,

As I shall thee enlighten, intermix

My cov’nant in the woman’s seed renewed;

So send them forth, though sorrowing, yet in peace: And on the east side of the garden place,

Where entrance up from Eden easiest climbs,

Cherubic watch, and of a sword the flame

Wide-waving, all approach far off to fright,

And guard all passage to the Tree of Life:

Lest Paradise a receptacle prove

To spirits foul, and all my trees their prey, With whose stol’n fruit man once more to delude.” He ceased; and th’ archangelic power prepared For swift descent, with him the cohort bright Of watchful Cherubim; four faces each

Had, like a double Janus, all their shape

Spangled with eyes more numerous than those

Of Argus, and more wakeful than to drowse,

Charmed with Arcadian pipe, the pastoral reed Of Hermes, or his opiate rod. Meanwhile

To resalute the world with sacred light

Leucothea waked, and with fresh dews imbalmed The Earth, when Adam and first matron Eve

Had ended now their orisons, and found

Strength added from above, new hope to spring Out of despair, joy, but with fear yet linked; Which thus to Eve his welcome words renewed.

“Eve, easily may faith admit, that all

The good which we enjoy, from Heav’n descends; But that from us aught should ascend to Heav’n So prevalent as to concern the mind

Of God high-blest, or to incline his will,

Hard to belief may seem; yet this will prayer, Or one short sigh of human breath, upborne

Ev’n to the seat of God. For since I sought

By prayer th’ offended Deity to appease,

Kneeled and before him humbled all my heart,

Methought I saw him placable and mild,

Bending his ear; persuasion in me grew

That I was heard with favor; peace returned

Home to my breast, and to my memory

His promise, that thy seed shall bruise our foe; Which then not minded in dismay, yet now

Assures me that the bitterness of death

Is past, and we shall live. Whence hail to thee, Eve rightly called, Mother of all Mankind,

Mother of all things living, since by thee

Man is to live, and all things live for man.” To whom thus Eve with sad demeanor meek.

“Ill-worthy I such title should belong

To me transgressor, who for thee ordained

A help, became thy snare; to me reproach

Rather belongs, distrust and all dispraise:

But infinite in pardon was my judge,

That I who first brought death on all, am graced The source of life; next favorable thou,

Who highly thus to entitle me vouchsaf’st,

Far other name deserving. But the field

To labor calls us now with sweat imposed,

Though after sleepless night; for see the morn, All unconcerned with our unrest, begins

Her rosy progress smiling; let us forth,

I never from thy side henceforth to stray,

Where’er our day’s work lies, though now enjoined Laborious, till day droop; while here we dwell, What can be toilsome in these pleasant walks?

Here let us live, though in fall’n state, content.” So spake, so wished much-humbled Eve, but fate Subscribed not; nature first gave signs, impressed On bird, beast, air, air suddenly eclipsed

After short blush of morn; nigh in her sight

The bird of Jove, stooped from his airy tour, Two birds of gayest plume before him drove:

Down from a hill the beast that reigns in woods, First hunter then, pursued a gentle brace,

Goodliest of all the forest, hart and hind;

Direct to th’ eastern gate was bent their flight.

Adam observed, and with his eye the chase

Pursuing, not unmoved to Eve thus spake.

“O Eve, some further change awaits us nigh,

Which Heav’n by these mute signs in nature shows Forerunners of his purpose, or to warn

Us haply too secure of our discharge

From penalty, because from death released

Some days; how long, and what till then our life, Who knows, or more than this, that we are dust, And thither must return and be no more.

Why else this double object in our sight

Of flight pursued in th’ air and o’er the ground One way the selfsame hour? Why in the east

Darkness ere day’s mid-course, and morning light More orient in yon western cloud that draws

O’re the blue firmament a radiant white,

And slow descends, with something Heav’nly fraught.” He erred not, for by this the Heav’nly bands

Down from a sky of jasper lighted now

In Paradise, and on a hill made halt,

A glorious apparition, had not doubt

And carnal fear that day dimmed Adam’s eye.

Not that more glorious, when the angels met

Jacob in Mahanaim, where he saw

The field pavilioned with his guardians bright; Nor that which on the flaming mount appeared

In Dothan, covered with a camp of fire,

Against the Syrian king, who to surprise

One man, assassin-like had levied war,

War unproclaimed. The princely hierarch

In their bright stand, there left his powers to seize Possession of the garden; he alone,

To find where Adam sheltered, took his way,

Not unperceived of Adam, who to Eve,

While the great visitant approached, thus spake.

“Eve, now expect great tidings, which perhaps Of us will soon determine, or impose

New laws to be observed; for I descry

From yonder blazing cloud that veils the hill One of the Heav’nly host, and by his gait

None of the meanest, some great potentate

Or of the Thrones above, such majesty

Invests him coming; yet not terrible,

That I should fear, nor sociably mild,

As Raphael, that I should much confide,

But solemn and sublime, whom not to offend,

With reverence I must meet, and thou retire.” He ended; and th’ archangel soon drew nigh,

Not in his shape celestial, but as man

Clad to meet man; over his lucid arms

A military vest of purple flowed

Livelier than Meliboean, or the grain

Of Sarra, worn by kings and heroes old

In time of truce; Iris had dipped the woof;

His starry helm unbuckled showed him prime

In manhood where youth ended; by his side

As in a glistering zodiac hung the sword,

Satan’s dire dread, and in his hand the spear.

Adam bowed low, he kingly from his state

Inclined not, but his coming thus declared.

“Adam, Heav’n’s high behest no preface needs: Sufficient that thy prayers are heard, and death, Then due by sentence when thou didst transgress, Defeated of his seizure many days

Giv’n thee of grace, wherein thou may’st repent, And one bad act with many deeds well done

May’st cover: well may then thy Lord appeased Redeem thee quite from death’s rapacious claim; But longer in this Paradise to dwell

Permits not; to remove thee I am come,

And send thee from the garden forth to till

The ground whence thou wast tak’n, fitter soil.” He added not, for Adam at the news

Heart-strook with chilling grip of sorrow stood, That all his senses bound; Eve, who unseen

Yet all had heard, with audible lament

Discovered soon the place of her retire.

“O unexpected stroke, worse than of death!

Must I thus leave thee Paradise? Thus leave

Thee native soil, these happy walks and shades, Fit haunt of gods? Where I had hope to spend, Quiet though sad, the respite of that day

That must be mortal to us both. O flow’rs,

That never will in other climate grow,

My early visitation, and my last

At ev’n, which I bred up with tender hand

From the first op’ning bud, and gave ye names, Who now shall rear ye to the sun, or rank

Your tribes, and water from th’ ambrosial fount?

Thee lastly nuptial bower, by me adorned

With what to sight or smell was sweet; from thee How shall I part, and whither wander down

Into a lower world, to this obscure

And wild, how shall we breathe in other air

Less pure, accustomed to immortal fruits?”

Whom thus the angel interrupted mild.

“Lament not Eve, but patiently resign

What justly thou hast lost; nor set thy heart, Thus over-fond, on that which is not thine;

Thy going is not lonely, with thee goes

Thy husband, him to follow thou art bound;

Where he abides, think there thy native soil.” Adam by this from the cold sudden damp

Recovering, and his scattered spirits returned, To Michael thus his humble words addressed.

“Celestial, whether among the Thrones, or named Of them the highest, for such of shape may seem Prince above princes, gently hast thou told

Thy message, which might else in telling wound, And in performing end us; what besides

Of sorrow and dejection and despair

Our frailty can sustain, thy tidings bring,

Departure from this happy place, our sweet

Recess, and only consolation left

Familiar to our eyes, all places else

Inhospitable appear and desolate,

Nor knowing us nor known: and if by prayer

Incessant I could hope to change the will

Of him who all things can, I would not cease

To weary him with my assiduous cries:

But prayer against his absolute decree

No more avails than breath against the wind,

Blown stifling back on him that breathes it forth: Therefore to his great bidding I submit.

This most afflicts me, that departing hence,

As from his face I shall be hid, deprived

His blessed count’nance; here I could frequent, With worship, place by place where he vouchsafed Presence divine, and to my sons relate,

“On this Mount he appeared, under this tree

Stood visible, among these pines his voice

I heard, here with him at this fountain talked.” So many grateful altars I would rear

Of grassy turf, and pile up every stone

Of luster from the brook, in memory,

Or monument to ages, and thereon

Offer sweet smelling gums and fruits and flow’rs: In yonder nether world where shall I seek

His bright appearances, or footstep trace?

For though I fled him angry, yet recalled

To life prolonged and promised race, I now

Gladly behold though but his utmost skirts

Of glory, and far off his steps adore.”

To whom thus Michael with regard benign.

“Adam, thou know’st Heav’n his, and all the Earth, Not this rock only; his omnipresence fills

Land, sea, and air, and every kind that lives, Fomented by his virtual power and warmed:

All th’ Earth he gave thee to possess and rule, No despicable gift; surmise not then

His presence to these narrow bounds confined

Of Paradise or Eden: this had been

Perhaps thy capital seat, from whence had spread All generations, and had hither come

From all the ends of th’ Earth, to celebrate

And reverence thee their great progenitor.

But this preeminence thou hast lost, brought down To dwell on even ground now with thy sons:

Yet doubt not but in valley and in plain

God is as here, and will be found alike

Present, and of his presence many a sign

Still following thee, still compassing thee round With goodness and paternal love, his face

Express, and of his steps the track divine.

Which that thou may’st believe, and be confirmed Ere thou from hence depart, know I am sent

To show thee what shall come in future days

To thee and to thy offspring; good with bad

Expect to hear, supernal grace contending

With sinfulness of men; thereby to learn

True patience, and to temper joy with fear

And pious sorrow, equally inured

By moderation either state to bear,

Prosperous or adverse: so shalt thou lead

Safest thy life, and best prepared endure

Thy mortal passage when it comes. Ascend

This hill; let Eve (for I have drenched her eyes) Here sleep below while thou to foresight wak’st, As once thou slept’st, while she to life was formed.” To whom thus Adam gratefully replied.

“Ascend, I follow thee, safe guide, the path

Thou lead’st me, and to the hand of Heav’n submit, However chast’ning, to the evil turn

My obvious breast, arming to overcome

By suffering, and earn rest from labor won,

If so I may attain.” So both ascend

In the visions of God: it was a hill

Of Paradise the highest, from whose top

The hemisphere of earth in clearest ken

Stretched out to the amplest reach of prospect lay.

Not higher that hill nor wider looking round, Whereon for different cause the Tempter set

Our second Adam in the wilderness,

To show him all Earth’s kingdoms and their glory.

His eye might there command wherever stood

City of old or modern fame, the seat

Of mightiest empire, from the destined walls

Of Cambalu, seat of Cathayan Khan

And Samarkand by Oxus, Temir’s throne,

To Paquin of Sinaean kings, and thence

To Agra and Lahore of Great Mogul

Down to the golden Chersonese, or where

The Persian in Ecbatan sat, or since

In Hispahan, or where the Russian Czar

In Moscow, or the Sultan in Bizance,

Turkestan-born; nor could his eye not ken

Th’ Empire of Negus to his utmost port

Ercoco and the less maritime kings

Mombaza, and Quiloa, and Melind,

And Sofala thought Ophir, to the realm

Of Congo, and Angola farthest south;

Or thence from Niger flood to Atlas mount

The kingdoms of Almansor, Fez and Sus,

Morocco and Algiers, and Tremisen;

On Europe thence, and where Rome was to sway

The world: in spirit perhaps he also saw

Rich Mexico the seat of Motezume,

And Cusco in Peru, the richer seat

Of Atabalipa, and yet unspoiled

Guiana, whose great city Geryon’s sons

Call El Dorado: but to nobler sights

Michael from Adam’s eyes the film removed

Which that false fruit that promised clearer sight Had bred; then purged with euphrasy and rue

The visual nerve, for he had much to see;

And from the Well of Life three drops instilled.

So deep the power of these ingredients pierced, Even to the inmost seat of mental sight,

That Adam now enforced to close his eyes,

Sunk down and all his spirits became entranced: But him the gentle angel by the hand

Soon raised, and his attention thus recalled.

“Adam, now ope thine eyes, and first behold

Th’ effects which thy original crime hath wrought In some to spring from thee, who never touched Th’ excepted tree, nor with the snake conspired, Nor sinned thy sin, yet from that sin derive

Corruption to bring forth more violent deeds.” His eyes he opened, and beheld a field,

Part arable and tilth, whereon were sheaves

New reapt, the other part sheep-walks and folds; I’ th’ midst an altar as the landmark stood

Rustic, of grassy sward; thither anon

A sweaty reaper from his tillage brought

First fruits, the green ear, and the yellow sheaf, Unculled, as came to hand; a shepherd next

More meek came with the firstlings of his flock Choicest and best; then sacrificing, laid

The inwards and their fat, with incense strewed, On the cleft wood, and all due rites performed.

His off’ring soon propitious fire from heav’n Consumed with nimble glance, and grateful steam; The other’s not, for his was not sincere;

Whereat he inly raged, and as they talked,

Smote him into the midriff with a stone

That beat out life; he fell, and deadly pale

Groaned out his soul with gushing blood effused.

Much at that sight was Adam in his heart

Dismayed, and thus in haste to th’ angel cried.

“O teacher, some great mischief hath befall’n To that meek man, who well had sacrificed;

Is piety thus and pure devotion paid?”

T’ whom Michael thus, he also moved, replied.

“These two are brethren, Adam, and to come

Out of thy loins; th’ unjust the just hath slain, For envy that his brother’s offering found

From Heav’n acceptance; but the bloody fact

Will be avenged, and th’ other’s faith approved Lose no reward, though here thou see him die, Rolling in dust and gore.” To which our sire.

“Alas, both for the deed and for the cause!

But have I now seen death? Is this the way

I must return to native dust? O sight

Of terror, foul and ugly to behold,

Horrid to think, how horrible to feel!”

To whom thus Michael. “Death thou hast seen

In his first shape on man; but many shapes

Of Death, and many are the ways that lead

To his grim cave, all dismal; yet to sense

More terrible at th’ entrance than within.

Some, as thou saw’st, by violent stroke shall die, By fire, flood, famine; by intemperance more

In meats and drinks, which on the Earth shall bring Diseases dire, of which a monstrous crew

Before thee shall appear; that thou may’st know What misery th’ inabstinence of Eve

Shall bring on men.” Immediately a place

Before his eyes appeared, sad, noisome, dark, A lazar-house it seemed, wherein were laid

Numbers of all diseased, all maladies

Of ghastly spasm, or racking torture, qualms

Of heart-sick agony, all feverous kinds,

Convulsions, epilepsies, fierce catarrhs,

Intestine stone and ulcer, colic pangs,

Demoniac frenzy, moping melancholy

And moon-struck madness, pining atrophy,

Marasmus, and wide-wasting pestilence,

Dropsies, and asthmas, and joint-racking rheums.

Dire was the tossing, deep the groans; Despair Tended the sick busiest from couch to couch;

And over them triumphant Death his dart

Shook, but delayed to strike, though oft invoked With vows, as their chief good, and final hope.

Sight so deform what heart of rock could long Dry-eyed behold? Adam could not, but wept,

Though not of woman born; compassion quelled

His best of man, and gave him up to tears

A space, till firmer thoughts restrained excess, And scarce recovering words his plaint renewed.

“O miserable mankind, to what fall

Degraded, to what wretched state reserved!

Better end here unborn. Why is life giv’n

To be thus wrested from us? Rather why

Obtruded on us thus? Who if we knew

What we receive, would either not accept

Life offered, or soon beg to lay it down,

Glad to be so dismissed in peace. Can thus

Th’ image of God in man created once

So goodly and erect, though faulty since,

To such unsightly sufferings be debased

Under inhuman pains? Why should not man,

Retaining still divine similitude

In part, from such deformities be free,

And for his Maker’s image sake exempt?”

“Their Maker’s image,” answered Michael, “then Forsook them, when themselves they vilified

To serve ungoverned appetite, and took

His image whom they served, a brutish vice,

Inductive mainly to the sin of Eve.

Therefore so abject is their punishment,

Disfiguring not God’s likeness, but their own, Or if his likeness, by themselves defaced

While they pervert pure nature’s healthful rules To loathsome sickness, worthily, since they

God’s image did not reverence in themselves.” “I yield it just,” said Adam, “and submit.

But is there yet no other way, besides

These painful passages, how we may come

To death, and mix with our connatural dust?”

“There is,” said Michael, “if thou well observe The rule of not too much, by temperance taught In what thou eat’st and drink’st, seeking from thence Due nourishment, not gluttonous delight,

Till many years over thy head return:

So may’st thou live, till like ripe fruit thou drop Into thy mother’s lap, or be with ease

Gathered, not harshly plucked, for death mature: This is old age; but then thou must outlive

Thy youth, thy strength, thy beauty, which will change To withered weak and gray; thy senses then

Obtuse, all taste of pleasure must forgo,

To what thou hast, and for the air of youth

Hopeful and cheerful, in thy blood will reign A melancholy damp of cold and dry

To weigh thy spirits down, and last consume

The balm of life.” To whom our ancestor.

“Henceforth I fly not death, nor would prolong Life much, bent rather how I may be quit

Fairest and easiest of this cumbrous charge,

Which I must keep till my appointed day

Of rend’ring up, and patiently attend

My dissolution.” Michael replied,

“Nor love thy life, nor hate; but what thou liv’st Live well, how long or short permit to Heav’n: And now prepare thee for another sight.”

He looked and saw a spacious plain, whereon

Were tents of various hue; by some were herds Of cattle grazing: others, whence the sound

Of instruments that made melodious chime

Was heard, of harp and organ; and who moved

Their stops and chords was seen: his volant touch Instinct through all proportions low and high Fled and pursued transverse the resonant fugue.

In other part stood one who at the forge

Laboring, two massy clods of iron and brass

Had melted (whether found where casual fire

Had wasted woods on mountain or in vale,

Down to the veins of Earth, thence gliding hot To some cave’s mouth, or whether washed by stream From underground) the liquid ore he drained

Into fit molds prepared; from which he formed First his own tools; then, what might else be wrought Fusile or grav’n in metal. After these,

But on the hither side a different sort

From the high neighboring hills, which was their seat, Down to the plain descended: by their guise

Just men they seemed, and all their study bent To worship God aright, and know his works

Not hid, nor those things last which might preserve Freedom and peace to men: they on the plain

Long had not walked, when from the tents behold A bevy of fair women, richly gay

In gems and wanton dress; to the harp they sung Soft amorous ditties, and in dance came on:

The men though grave, eyed them, and let their eyes Rove without rein, till in the amorous net

Fast caught, they liked, and each his liking chose; And now of love they treat till th’ ev’ning star Love’s harbinger appeared; then all in heat

They light the nuptial torch, and bid invoke

Hymen, then first to marriage rites invoked;

With feast and music all the tents resound.

Such happy interview and fair event

Of love and youth not lost, songs, garlands, flow’rs, And charming symphonies attached the heart

Of Adam, soon inclined to admit delight,

The bent of nature; which he thus expressed.

“True opener of mine eyes, prime angel blest, Much better seems this vision, and more hope

Of peaceful days portends, than those two past; Those were of hate and death, or pain much worse, Here nature seems fulfilled in all her ends.” To whom thus Michael. “Judge not what is best By pleasure, though to nature seeming meet,

Created, as thou art, to nobler end

Holy and pure, conformity divine.

Those tents thou saw’st so pleasant, were the tents Of wickedness, wherein shall dwell his race

Who slew his brother; studious they appear

Of arts that polish life, inventors rare,

Unmindful of their Maker, though his spirit

Taught them, but they his gifts acknowledged none.

Yet they a beauteous offspring shall beget;

For that fair female troop thou saw’st, that seemed Of goddesses, so blithe, so smooth, so gay,

Yet empty of all good wherein consists

Woman’s domestic honor and chief praise;

Bred only and completed to the taste

Of lustful appetence, to sing, to dance,

To dress, and troll the tongue, and roll the eye.

To these that sober race of men, whose lives

Religious titled them the Sons of God,

Shall yield up all their virtue, all their fame Ignobly, to the trains and to the smiles

Of these fair atheists, and now swim in joy,

(Erelong to swim at large) and laugh; for which The world erelong a world of tears must weep.” To whom thus Adam of short joy bereft.

“O pity and shame, that they who to live well Entered so fair, should turn aside to tread

Paths indirect, or in the mid way faint!

But still I see the tenor of man’s woe

Holds on the same, from woman to begin.”

From man’s effeminate slackness it begins,”

Said th’ angel, “who should better hold his place By wisdom, and superior gifts received.

But now prepare thee for another scene.”

He looked and saw wide territory spread

Before him, towns, and rural works between,

Cities of men with lofty gates and tow’rs,

Concourse in arms, fierce faces threat’ning war, Giants of mighty bone, and bold emprise;

Part wield their arms, part curb the foaming steed, Single or in array of battle ranged

Both horse and foot, nor idly must’ring stood; One way a band select from forage drives

A herd of beeves, fair oxen and fair kine

From a fat meadow ground; or fleecy flock,

Ewes and their bleating lambs over the plain, Their booty; scarce with life the shepherds fly, But call in aid, which makes a bloody fray;

With cruel tournament the squadrons join;

Where cattle pastured late, now scattered lies With carcasses and arms th’ ensanguined field Deserted: others to a city strong

Lay siege, encamped; by battery, scale, and mine, Assaulting; others from the wall defend

With dart and jav’lin, stones and sulfurous fire; On each hand slaughter and gigantic deeds.

In other part the sceptered heralds call

To council in the city gates: anon

Grey-headed men and grave, with warriors mixed, Assemble, and harangues are heard, but soon

In factious opposition, till at last

Of middle age one rising, eminent

In wise deport, spake much of right and wrong, Of justice, of religion, truth and peace,

And judgment from above: him old and young

Exploded and had seized with violent hands,

Had not a cloud descending snatched him thence Unseen amid the throng: so violence

Proceeded, and oppression, and sword-law

Through all the plain, and refuge none was found.

Adam was all in tears, and to his guide

Lamenting turned full sad: “O what are these, Death’s ministers, not men, who thus deal death Inhumanly to men, and multiply

Ten-thousandfold the sin of him who slew

His brother; for of whom such massacre

Make they but of their brethren, men of men?

But who was that just man, whom had not Heav’n Rescued, had in his righteousness been lost?” To whom thus Michael. “These are the product

Of those ill-mated marriages thou saw’st:

Where good with bad were matched, who of themselves Abhor to join; and by imprudence mixed,

Produce prodigious births of body or mind.

Such were these giants, men of high renown;

For in those days might only shall be admired, And valor and heroic virtue called;

To overcome in battle, and subdue

Nations, and bring home spoils with infinite

Manslaughter, shall be held the highest pitch Of human glory, and for glory done

Of triumph, to be styled great conquerors,

Patrons of mankind, gods, and sons of gods,

Destroyers rightlier called and plagues of men.

Thus fame shall be achieved, renown on earth, And what most merits fame in silence hid.

But he the sev’nth from thee, whom thou beheld’st The only righteous in a world perverse,

And therefore hated, therefore so beset

With foes for daring single to be just,

And utter odious truth, that God would come

To judge them with his saints: him the Most High Rapt in a balmy cloud with wingèd steeds

Did, as thou saw’st, receive, to walk with God High in salvation and the climes of bliss,

Exempt from death, to show thee what reward

Awaits the good, the rest what punishment;

Which now direct thine eyes and soon behold.” He looked, and saw the face of things quite changed; The brazen throat of war had ceased to roar,

All now was turned to jollity and game,

To luxury and riot, feast and dance,

Marrying or prostituting, as befell,

Rape or adultery, where passing fair

Allured them; thence from cups to civil broils.

At length a reverend sire among them came,

And of their doings great dislike declared,

And testified against their ways; he oft

Frequented their assemblies, whereso met,

Triumphs or festivals, and to them preached

Conversion and repentance, as to souls

In prison under judgments imminent:

But all in vain: which when he saw, he ceased Contending, and removed his tents far off;

Then from the mountain hewing timber tall,

Began to build a vessel of huge bulk,

Measured by cubit, length, and breadth, and highth, Smeared round with pitch, and in the side a door Contrived, and of provisions laid in large

For man and beast: when lo a wonder strange!

Of every beast, and bird, and insect small

Came sevens and pairs, and entered in, as taught Their order: last the sire, and his three sons With their four wives; and God made fast the door.

Meanwhile the south wind rose, and with black wings Wide hovering, all the clouds together drove

From under Heav’n; the hills to their supply

Vapor, and exhalation dusk and moist,

Sent up amain; and now the thickened sky

Like a dark ceiling stood; down rushed the rain Impetuous, and continued till the earth

No more was seen; the floating vessel swum

Uplifted, and secure with beakèd prow

Rode tilting o’er the waves, all dwellings else Flood overwhelmed, and them with all their pomp Deep under water rolled; sea covered sea,

Sea without shore; and in their palaces

Where luxury late reigned, sea-monsters whelped And stabled; of mankind, so numerous late,

All left, in one small bottom swum embarked.

How didst thou grieve then, Adam, to behold

The end of all thy offspring, end so sad,

Depopulation; thee another flood,

Of tears and sorrow a flood thee also drowned, And sunk thee as thy sons; till gently reared By th’ angel, on thy feet thou stood’st at last, Though comfortless, as when a father mourns

His children, all in view destroyed at once;

And scarce to th’ angel utter’dst thus thy plaint.

“O visions ill foreseen! Better had I

Lived ignorant of future, so had borne

My part of evil only, each day’s lot

Enough to bear; those now, that were dispensed The burd’n of many ages, on me light

At once, by my foreknowledge gaining birth

Abortive, to torment me ere their being,

With thought that they must be. Let no man seek Henceforth to be foretold what shall befall

Him or his childern, evil he may be sure,

Which neither his foreknowing can prevent,

And he the future evil shall no less

In apprehension than in substance feel

Grievous to bear: but that care now is past,

Man is not whom to warn: those few escaped

Famine and anguish will at last consume

Wand’ring that wat’ry desert: I had hope

When violence was ceased, and war on Earth,

All would have then gone well, peace would have crowned With length of happy days the race of man;

But I was far deceived; for now I see

Peace to corrupt no less than war to waste.

How comes it thus? Unfold, celestial guide,

And whether here the race of man will end.”

To whom thus Michael. “Those whom last thou saw’st In triumph and luxurious wealth, are they

First seen in acts of prowess eminent

And great exploits, but of true virtue void;

Who having spilt much blood, and done much waste Subduing nations, and achieved thereby

Fame in the world, high titles, and rich prey, Shall change their course to pleasure, ease, and sloth, Surfeit, and lust, till wantonness and pride

Raise out of friendship hostile deeds in peace.

The conquered also, and enslaved by war

Shall with their freedom lost all virtue lose And fear of God, from whom their piety feigned In sharp contest of battle found no aid

Against invaders; therefore cooled in zeal

Thenceforth shall practice how to live secure, Worldly or dissolute, on what their lords

Shall leave them to enjoy; for th’ earth shall bear More than enough, that temperance may be tried: So all shall turn degenerate, all depraved,

Justice and temperance, truth and faith forgot; One man except, the only son of light

In a dark age, against example good,

Against allurement, custom, and a world

Offended; fearless of reproach and scorn,

Or violence, he of their wicked ways

Shall them admonish, and before them set

The paths of righteousness, how much more safe, And full of peace, denouncing wrath to come

On their impenitence; and shall return

Of them derided, but of God observed

The one just man alive; by his command

Shall build a wondrous ark, as thou beheld’st, To save himself and household from amidst

A world devote to universal wrack.

No sooner he with them of man and beast

Select for life shall in the ark be lodged,

And sheltered round, but all the cataracts

Of heav’n set open on the earth shall pour

Rain day and night, all fountains of the deep Broke up, shall heave the ocean to usurp

Beyond all bounds, till inundation rise

Above the highest hills: then shall this mount Of Paradise by might of waves be moved

Out of his place, pushed by the hornèd flood, With all his verdure spoiled, and trees adrift Down the great river to the op’ning gulf,

And there take root an island salt and bare,

The haunt of seals and orcs, and sea-mews’ clang.

To teach thee that God attributes to place

No sanctity, if none be thither brought

By men who there frequent, or therein dwell.

And now what further shall ensue, behold.”

He looked, and saw the ark hull on the flood, Which now abated, for the clouds were fled,

Driv’n by a keen north wind, that blowing dry Wrinkled the face of deluge, as decayed;

And the clear sun on his wide wat’ry glass

Gazed hot, and of the fresh wave largely drew, As after thirst, which made their flowing shrink From standing lake to tripping ebb, that stole With soft foot towards the deep, who now had stopped His sluices, as the heav’n his windows shut.

The ark no more now floats, but seems on ground Fast on the top of some high mountain fixed.

And now the tops of hills as rocks appear;

With clamor thence the rapid currents drive

Towards the retreating sea their furious tide.

Forthwith from out the ark a raven flies,

And after him, the surer messenger,

A dove sent forth once and again to spy

Green tree or ground whereon his foot may light; The second time returning, in his bill

An olive leaf he brings, pacific sign:

Anon dry ground appears, and from his ark

The ancient sire descends with all his train; Then with uplifted hands, and eyes devout,

Grateful to Heav’n, over his head beholds

A dewy cloud, and in the cloud a bow

Conspicuous with three listed colors gay,

Betok’ning peace from God, and cov’nant new.

Whereat the heart of Adam erst so sad

Greatly rejoiced, and thus his joy broke forth.

“O thou who future things canst represent

As present, Heav’nly instructor, I revive

At this last sight, assured that man shall live With all the creatures, and their seed preserve.

Far less I now lament for one whole world

Of wicked sons destroyed, than I rejoice

For one man found so perfect and so just,

That God vouchsafes to raise another world

From him, and all his anger to forget.

But say, what mean those colored streaks in heav’n, Distended as the brow of God appeased,

Or serve they as a flow’ry verge to bind

The fluid skirts of that same wat’ry cloud,

Lest it again dissolve and show’r the Earth?” To whom th’ Archangel. “Dextrously thou aim’st; So willingly doth God remit his ire,

Though late repenting him of man depraved,

Grieved at his heart, when looking down he saw The whole Earth filled with violence, and all flesh Corrupting each their way; yet those removed, Such grace shall one just man find in his sight, That he relents, not to blot out mankind,

And makes a cov’nant never to destroy

The Earth again by flood, nor let the sea

Surpass his bounds, nor rain to drown the world With man therein or beast; but when he brings Over the Earth a cloud, will therein set

His triple-colored bow, whereon to look

And call to mind his cov’nant: day and night, Seed time and harvest, heat and hoary frost

Shall hold their course, till fire purge all things new, Both heav’n and earth, wherein the just shall dwell.”