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کتاب 8
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BOOK VIII
THE ARGUMENT
Adam inquires concerning celestial motions, is doubtfully answered, and exhorted to search rather things more worthy of knowledge. Adam assents, and still desirous to detain Raphael, relates to him what he remembered since his own creation, his placing in Paradise, his talk with God concerning solitude and fit society, his first meeting and nuptials with Eve. His discourse with the angel thereupon, who after admonitions repeated departs.
The angel ended, and in Adam’s ear
So charming left his voice, that he a while
Thought him still speaking, still stood fixed to hear; Then as new waked thus gratefully replied.
“What thanks sufficient, or what recompense
Equal have I to render thee, divine
Historian, who thus largely hast allayed
The thirst I had of knowledge, and vouchsafed This friendly condescension to relate
Things else by me unsearchable, now heard
With wonder, but delight, and, as is due,
With glory attributed to the high
Creator; something yet of doubt remains,
Which only thy solution can resolve.
When I behold this goodly frame, this world
Of heav’n and Earth consisting, and compute
Their magnitudes, this Earth a spot, a grain, An atom, with the firmament compared
And all her numbered stars, that seem to roll Spaces incomprehensible (for such
Their distance argues and their swift return
Diurnal) merely to officiate light
Round this opacous Earth, this punctual spot, One day and night; in all their vast survey
Useless besides, reasoning I oft admire,
How nature wise and frugal could commit
Such disproportions, with superfluous hand
So many nobler bodies to create,
Greater so manifold to this one use,
For aught appears, and on their orbs impose
Such restless revolution day by day
Repeated, while the sedentary Earth,
That better might with far less compass move, Served by more noble than herself, attains
Her end without least motion, and receives,
As tribute such a sumless journey brought
Of incorporeal speed, her warmth and light;
Speed, to describe whose swiftness number fails.” So spake our sire, and by his count’nance seemed Ent’ring on studious thoughts abstruse, which Eve Perceiving where she sat retired in sight,
With lowliness majestic from her seat,
And grace that won who saw to wish her stay,
Rose, and went forth among her fruits and flow’rs, To visit how they prospered, bud and bloom,
Her nursery; they at her coming sprung
And touched by her fair tendance gladlier grew.
Yet went she not, as not with such discourse
Delighted, or not capable her ear
Of what was high: such pleasure she reserved, Adam relating, she sole auditress;
Her husband the relater she preferred
Before the angel, and of him to ask
Chose rather; he, she knew, would intermix
Grateful digressions, and solve high dispute
With conjugal caresses; from his lip
Not words alone pleased her. O when meet now
Such pairs, in love and mutual honor joined?
With goddesslike demeanor forth she went;
Not unattended, for on her as queen
A pomp of winning Graces waited still,
And from about her shot darts of desire
Into all eyes to wish her still in sight.
And Raphael now to Adam’s doubt proposed
Benevolent and facile thus replied.
“To ask or search I blame thee not, for heav’n Is as the book of God before thee set,
Wherein to read his wondrous works, and learn His seasons, hours, or days, or months, or years: This to attain, whether heav’n move or Earth, Imports not, if thou reckon right; the rest
From man or angel the great Architect
Did wisely to conceal, and not divulge
His secrets to be scanned by them who ought
Rather admire; or if they list to try
Conjecture, he his fabric of the heav’ns
Hath left to their disputes, perhaps to move
His laughter at their quaint opinions wide
Hereafter, when they come to model heav’n
And calculate the stars, how they will wield
The mighty frame, how build, unbuild, contrive To save appearances, how gird the sphere
With centric and eccentric scribbled o’er,
Cycle and epicycle, orb in orb:
Already by thy reasoning this I guess,
Who art to lead thy offspring, and supposest
That bodies bright and greater should not serve The less not bright, nor heav’n such journeys run, Earth sitting still, when she alone receives
The benefit: consider first, that great
Or bright infers not excellence: the Earth
Though, in comparison of heav’n, so small,
Nor glistering, may of solid good contain
More plenty than the sun that barren shines
Whose virtue on itself works no effect,
But in the fruitful Earth; there first received His beams, unactive else, their vigor find.
Yet not to Earth are those bright luminaries
Officious, but to thee Earth’s habitant.
And for the Heav’n’s wide circuit, let it speak The Maker’s high magnificence, who built
So spacious, and his line stretched out so far; That man may know he dwells not in his own;
An edifice too large for him to fill,
Lodged in a small partition, and the rest
Ordained for uses to his Lord best known.
The swiftness of those circles attribute,
Though numberless, to his omnipotence,
That to corporeal substances could add
Speed almost spiritual; me thou think’st not slow, Who since the morning hour set out from Heav’n Where God resides, and ere mid-day arrived
In Eden, distance inexpressible
By numbers that have name. But this I urge,
Admitting motion in the heav’ns, to show
Invalid that which thee to doubt it moved;
Not that I so affirm, though so it seem
To thee who hast thy dwelling here on Earth.
God to remove his ways from human sense,
Placed heav’n from Earth so far, that earthly sight, If it presume, might err in things too high,
And no advantage gain. What if the sun
Be center to the world, and other stars
By his attractive virtue and their own
Incited, dance about him various rounds?
Their wand’ring course now high, now low, then hid, Progressive, retrograde, or standing still,
In six thou seest, and what if sev’nth to these The planet Earth, so steadfast though she seem, Insensibly three different motions move?
Which else to several spheres thou must ascribe, Moved contrary with thwart obliquities,
Or save the sun his labor, and that swift
Nocturnal and diurnal rhomb supposed,
Invisible else above all stars, the wheel
Of day and night; which needs not thy belief, If Earth industrious of herself fetch day
Traveling east, and with her part averse
From the sun’s beam meet night, her other part Still luminous by his ray. What if that light Sent from her through the wide transpicuous air, To the terrestrial moon be as a star
Enlight’ning her by day, as she by night
This Earth? Reciprocal, if land be there,
Fields and inhabitants: her spots thou seest
As clouds, and clouds may rain, and rain produce Fruits in her softened soil, for some to eat
Allotted there; and other suns perhaps
With their attendant moons thou wilt descry
Communicating male and female light,
Which two great sexes animate the world,
Stored in each orb perhaps with some that live.
For such vast room in nature unpossessed
By living soul, desert and desolate,
Only to shine, yet scarce to contribute
Each orb a glimpse of light, conveyed so far
Down to this habitable, which returns
Light back to them, is obvious to dispute.
But whether thus these things, or whether not, Whether the sun predominant in heav’n
Rise on the Earth, or Earth rise on the sun,
He from the east his flaming road begin,
Or she from west her silent course advance
With inoffensive pace that spinning sleeps
On her soft axle, while she paces ev’n,
And bears thee soft with the smooth air along, Solicit not thy thoughts with matters hid,
Leave them to God above, him serve and fear;
Of other creatures, as him pleases best,
Wherever placed, let him dispose: joy thou
In what he gives to thee, this Paradise
And thy fair Eve; heav’n is for thee too high To know what passes there; be lowly wise:
Think only what concerns thee and thy being;
Dream not of other worlds, what creatures there Live, in what state, condition or degree,
Contented that thus far hath been revealed
Not of Earth only but of highest Heav’n.”
To whom thus Adam cleared of doubt, replied.
“How fully hast thou satisfied me, pure
Intelligence of Heav’n, angel serene,
And freed from intricacies, taught to live,
The easiest way, nor with perplexing thoughts To interrupt the sweet of life, from which
God hath bid dwell far off all anxious cares, And not molest us, unless we ourselves
Seek them with wand’ring thoughts, and notions vain.
But apt the mind or fancy is to rove
Unchecked, and of her roving is no end;
Till warned, or by experience taught, she learn, That not to know at large of things remote
From use, obscure and subtle, but to know
That which before us lies in daily life,
Is the prime wisdom; what is more, is fume,
Or emptiness, or fond impertinence,
And renders us in things that most concern
Unpracticed, unprepared, and still to seek.
Therefore from this high pitch let us descend A lower flight, and speak of things at hand
Useful, whence haply mention may arise
Of something not unseasonable to ask
By sufferance, and thy wonted favor deigned.
Thee I have heard relating what was done
Ere my remembrance: now hear me relate
My story, which perhaps thou hast not heard;
And day is yet not spent; till then thou seest How subtly to detain thee I devise,
Inviting thee to hear while I relate,
Fond, were it not in hope of thy reply:
For while I sit with thee, I seem in Heav’n,
And sweeter thy discourse is to my ear
Than fruits of palm-tree pleasantest to thirst And hunger both, from labor, at the hour
Of sweet repast; they satiate, and soon fill, Though pleasant, but thy words with grace divine Imbued, bring to their sweetness no satiety.” To whom thus Raphael answered Heav’nly meek.
“Nor are thy lips ungraceful, sire of men,
Nor tongue ineloquent; for God on thee
Abundantly his gifts hath also poured
Inward and outward both, his image fair:
Speaking or mute all comeliness and grace
Attends thee, and each word, each motion forms.
Nor less think we in Heav’n of thee on Earth
Than of our fellow servant, and inquire
Gladly into the ways of God with man:
For God we see hath honored thee, and set
On man his equal love: say therefore on;
For I that day was absent, as befell,
Bound on a voyage uncouth and obscure,
Far on excursion toward the gates of Hell;
Squared in full legion (such command we had)
To see that none thence issued forth a spy,
Or enemy, while God was in his work,
Lest he incensed at such eruption bold,
Destruction with creation might have mixed.
Not that they durst without his leave attempt, But us he sends upon his high behests
For state, as sov’reign King, and to inure
Our prompt obedience. Fast we found, fast shut The dismal gates, and barricadoed strong;
But long ere our approaching heard within
Noise, other than the sound of dance or song, Torment, and loud lament, and furious rage.
Glad we returned up to the coasts of light
Ere Sabbath evening: so we had in charge.
But thy relation now; for I attend,
Pleased with thy words no less than thou with mine.” So spake the godlike power, and thus our sire.
“For man to tell how human life began
Is hard; for who himself beginning knew?
Desire with thee still longer to converse
Induced me. As new waked from soundest sleep
Soft on the flow’ry herb I found me laid
In balmy sweat, which with his beams the sun
Soon dried, and on the reeking moisture fed.
Straight toward heav’n my wond’ring eyes I turned, And gazed a while the ample sky, till raised
By quick instinctive motion up I sprung,
As thitherward endeavoring, and upright
Stood on my feet; about me round I saw
Hill, dale, and shady woods, and sunny plains, And liquid lapse of murmuring streams; by these, Creatures that lived, and moved, and walked, or flew, Birds on the branches warbling; all things smiled, With fragrance and with joy my heart o’erflowed.
Myself I then perused, and limb by limb
Surveyed, and sometimes went, and sometimes ran With supple joints, as lively vigor led:
But who I was, or where, or from what cause,
Knew not; to speak I tried, and forthwith spake, My tongue obeyed and readily could name
Whate’er I saw. ‘Thou sun,’ said I, ‘fair light, And thou enlightened earth, so fresh and gay, Ye hills and dales, ye rivers, woods, and plains, And ye that live and move, fair creatures, tell, Tell, if ye saw, how came I thus, how here?
Not of myself; by some great Maker then,
In goodness and in power pre-eminent;
Tell me, how may I know him, how adore,
From whom I have that thus I move and live,
And feel that I am happier than I know.’
While thus I called, and strayed I knew not whither, From where I first drew air, and first beheld This happy light, when answer none returned,
On a green shady bank profuse of flow’rs
Pensive I sat me down; there gentle sleep
First found me, and with soft oppression seized My drowsèd sense, untroubled, though I thought I then was passing to my former state
Insensible, and forthwith to dissolve:
When suddenly stood at my head a dream,
Whose inward apparition gently moved
My fancy to believe I yet had being,
And lived: one came, methought, of shape divine, And said, ‘Thy mansion wants thee, Adam, rise, First man, of men innumerable ordained
First father, called by thee I come thy guide To the garden of bliss, thy seat prepared.’
So saying, by the hand he took me raised,
And over fields and waters, as in air
Smooth sliding without step, last led me up
A woody mountain, whose high top was plain,
A circuit wide, enclosed, with goodliest trees Planted, with walks, and bowers, that what I saw Of Earth before scarce pleasant seemed. Each tree Loaden with fairest fruit, that hung to the eye Tempting, stirred in me sudden appetite
To pluck and eat; whereat I waked, and found
Before mine eyes all real, as the dream
Had lively shadowed: here had new begun
My wand’ring, had not he who was my guide
Up hither, from among the trees appeared
Presence divine. Rejoicing, but with awe
In adoration at his feet I fell
Submiss: he reared me, and ‘Whom thou sought’st I am,’ Said mildly, ‘Author of all this thou seest
Above, or round about thee or beneath.
This Paradise I give thee, count it thine
To till and keep, and of the fruit to eat:
Of every tree that in the garden grows
Eat freely with glad heart; fear here no dearth: But of the tree whose operation brings
Knowledge of good and ill, which I have set
The pledge of thy obedience and thy faith,
Amid the garden by the Tree of Life,
Remember what I warn thee, shun to taste,
And shun the bitter consequence: for know,
The day thou eat’st thereof, my sole command
Transgressed, inevitably thou shalt die;
From that day mortal, and this happy state
Shalt lose, expelled from hence into a world
Of woe and sorrow.’ Sternly he pronounced
The rigid interdiction, which resounds
Yet dreadful in mine ear, though in my choice Not to incur; but soon his clear aspect
Returned and gracious purpose thus renewed.
‘Not only these fair bounds, but all the Earth To thee and to thy race I give; as lords
Possess it, and all things that therein live, Or live in sea, or air, beast, fish, and fowl.
In sign whereof each bird and beast behold
After their kinds; I bring them to receive
From thee their names, and pay thee fealty
With low subjection; understand the same
Of fish within their wat’ry residence,
Not hither summoned, since they cannot change Their element to draw the thinner air.’
As thus he spake, each bird and beast behold
Approaching two and two, these cow’ring low
With blandishment, each bird stooped on his wing.
I named them, as they passed, and understood
Their nature, with such knowledge God endued
My sudden apprehension: but in these
I found not what methought I wanted still;
And to the Heav’nly vision thus presumed.
“ ‘O by what name, for thou above all these,
Above mankind, or aught than mankind higher,
Surpassest far my naming, how may I
Adore thee, Author of this universe,
And all this good to man, for whose well-being So amply, and with hands so liberal
Thou hast provided all things: but with me
I see not who partakes. In solitude
What happiness, who can enjoy alone,
Or all enjoying, what contentment find?’
Thus I presumptuous; and the vision bright,
As with a smile more brightened, thus replied.
“ ‘What call’st thou solitude, is not the Earth With various living creatures, and the air
Replenished, and all these at thy command
To come and play before thee? Know’st thou not Their language and their ways? They also know, And reason not contemptibly; with these
Find pastime, and bear rule; thy realm is large.’ So spake the Universal Lord, and seemed
So ordering. I with leave of speech implored, And humble deprecation thus replied.
“ ‘Let not my words offend thee, Heav’nly power, My Maker, be propitious while I speak.
Hast thou not made me here thy substitute,
And these inferior far beneath me set?
Among unequals what society
Can sort, what harmony or true delight?
Which must be mutual, in proportion due
Giv’n and received; but in disparity
The one intense, the other still remiss
Cannot well suit with either, but soon prove
Tedious alike: of fellowship I speak
Such as I seek, fit to participate
All rational delight, wherein the brute
Cannot be human consort; they rejoice
Each with their kind, lion with lioness;
So fitly them in pairs thou hast combined;
Much less can bird with beast, or fish with fowl So well converse, nor with the ox the ape;
Worse then can man with beast, and least of all.’ “Whereto th’ Almighty answered, not displeased.
‘A nice and subtle happiness I see
Thou to thyself proposest, in the choice
Of thy associates, Adam, and wilt taste
No pleasure, though in pleasure, solitary.
What think’st thou then of me, and this my state, Seem I to thee sufficiently possessed
Of happiness, or not? Who am alone
From all eternity, for none I know
Second to me or like, equal much less.
How have I then with whom to hold converse
Save with the creatures which I made, and those To me inferior, infinite descents
Beneath what other creatures are to thee?’
“He ceased, I lowly answered. ‘To attain
The highth and depth of thy eternal ways
All human thoughts come short, supreme of things; Thou in thyself art perfect, and in thee
Is no deficience found; not so is man,
But in degree, the cause of his desire
By conversation with his like to help,
Or solace his defects. No need that thou
Shouldst propagate, already infinite,
And through all numbers absolute, though one; But man by number is to manifest
His single imperfection, and beget
Like of his like, his image multiplied,
In unity defective, which requires
Collateral love, and dearest amity.
Thou in thy secrecy although alone,
Best with thyself accompanied, seek’st not
Social communication, yet so pleased,
Canst raise thy creature to what highth thou wilt Of union or communion, deified;
I by conversing cannot these erect
From prone, nor in their ways complacence find.’ Thus I emboldened spake, and freedom used
Permissive, and acceptance found, which gained This answer from the gracious voice divine.
“ ‘Thus far to try thee, Adam, I was pleased, And find thee knowing not of beasts alone,
Which thou hast rightly named, but of thyself, Expressing well the spirit within thee free,
My image, not imparted to the brute,
Whose fellowship therefore unmeet for thee
Good reason was thou freely shouldst dislike, And be so minded still; I, ere thou spak’st,
Knew it not good for man to be alone,
And no such company as then thou saw’st
Intended thee, for trial only brought,
To see how thou could’st judge of fit and meet: What next I bring shall please thee, be assured, Thy likeness, thy fit help, thy other self,
Thy wish exactly to thy heart’s desire.’
“He ended, or I heard no more, for now
My Earthly by his Heav’nly overpowered,
Which it had long stood under, strained to the highth In that celestial colloquy sublime,
As with an object that excels the sense,
Dazzled and spent, sunk down, and sought repair Of sleep, which instantly fell on me, called
By nature as in aid, and closed mine eyes.
Mine eyes he closed, but open left the cell
Of fancy my internal sight, by which
Abstract as in a trance methought I saw,
Though sleeping, where I lay, and saw the shape Still glorious before whom awake I stood,
Who stooping opened my left side, and took
From thence a rib, with cordial spirits warm, And life-blood streaming fresh; wide was the wound, But suddenly with flesh filled up and healed: The rib he formed and fashioned with his hands; Under his forming hands a creature grew,
Manlike, but different sex, so lovely fair,
That what seemed fair in all the world, seemed now Mean, or in her summed up, in her contained
And in her looks, which from that time infused Sweetness into my heart, unfelt before,
And into all things from her air inspired
The spirit of love and amorous delight.
She disappeared, and left me dark. I waked
To find her, or forever to deplore
Her loss, and other pleasures all abjure:
When out of hope, behold her, not far off,
Such as I saw her in my dream, adorned
With what all Earth or Heaven could bestow
To make her amiable: on she came,
Led by her Heav’nly Maker, though unseen,
And guided by his voice, nor uninformed
Of nuptial sanctity and marriage rites:
Grace was in all her steps, heav’n in her eye, In every gesture dignity and love.
I overjoyed could not forbear aloud.
“ ‘This turn hath made amends; thou hast fulfilled Thy words, Creator bounteous and benign,
Giver of all things fair, but fairest this
Of all thy gifts, nor enviest. I now see
Bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh, my self
Before me; woman is her name, of man
Extracted; for this cause he shall forgo
Father and mother, and to his wife adhere;
And they shall be one flesh, one heart, one soul.’ “She heard me thus, and though divinely brought, Yet innocence and virgin modesty,
Her virtue and the conscience of her worth,
That would be wooed, and not unsought be won, Not obvious, not obtrusive, but retired,
The more desirable, or to say all,
Nature herself, though pure of sinful thought, Wrought in her so, that seeing me, she turned; I followed her, she what was honor knew,
And with obsequious majesty approved
My pleaded reason. To the nuptial bow’r
I led her blushing like the morn: all heav’n, And happy constellations on that hour
Shed their selectest influence; the earth
Gave sign of gratulation, and each hill;
Joyous the birds; fresh gales and gentle airs Whispered it to the woods, and from their wings Flung rose, flung odors from the spicy shrub, Disporting, till the amorous bird of night
Sung spousal, and bid haste the ev’ning star
On his hill top, to light the bridal lamp.
Thus I have told thee all my state, and brought My story to the sum of earthly bliss
Which I enjoy, and must confess to find
In all things else delight indeed, but such
As used or not, works in the mind no change,
Nor vehement desire, these delicacies
I mean of taste, sight, smell, herbs, fruits, and flow’rs, Walks, and the melody of birds; but here
Far otherwise, transported I behold,
Transported touch; here passion first I felt, Commotion strange, in all enjoyments else
Superior and unmoved, here only weak
Against the charm of beauty’s powerful glance.
Or nature failed in me, and left some part
Not proof enough such object to sustain,
Or from my side subducting, took perhaps
More than enough; at least on her bestowed
Too much of ornament, in outward show
Elaborate, of inward less exact.
For well I understand in the prime end
Of nature her th’ inferior, in the mind
And inward faculties, which most excel,
In outward also her resembling less
His image who made both, and less expressing
The character of that dominion giv’n
O’er other creatures; yet when I approach
Her loveliness, so absolute she seems
And in herself complete, so well to know
Her own, that what she wills to do or say,
Seems wisest, virtuousest, discreetest, best; All higher knowledge in her presence falls
Degraded, wisdom in discourse with her
Looses discount’nanced, and like folly shows; Authority and reason on her wait,
As one intended first, not after made
Occasionally; and to consummate all,
Greatness of mind and nobleness their seat
Build in her loveliest, and create an awe
About her, as a guard angelic placed.”
To whom the Angel with contracted brow.
“Accuse not nature, she hath done her part;
Do thou but thine, and be not diffident
Of Wisdom; she deserts thee not, if thou
Dismiss not her when most thou need’st her nigh, By attributing overmuch to things
Less excellent, as thou thyself perceiv’st.
For what admir’st thou, what transports thee so, An outside? Fair no doubt, and worthy well
Thy cherishing, thy honoring, and thy love,
Not thy subjection: weigh with her thyself;
Then value: ofttimes nothing profits more
Than self-esteem, grounded on just and right
Well managed; of that skill the more thou know’st, The more she will acknowledge thee her head,
And to realities yield all her shows:
Made so adorn for thy delight the more,
So awful, that with honor thou may’st love
Thy mate, who sees when thou art seen least wise.
But if the sense of touch whereby mankind
Is propagated seem such dear delight
Beyond all other, think the same vouchsafed
To cattle and each beast; which would not be
To them made common and divulged, if aught
Therein enjoyed were worthy to subdue
The soul of man, or passion in him move.
What higher in her society thou find’st
Attractive, human, rational, love still;
In loving thou dost well, in passion not,
Wherein true love consists not; love refines
The thoughts, and heart enlarges, hath his seat In reason, and is judicious, is the scale
By which to Heav’nly love thou may’st ascend, Not sunk in carnal pleasure, for which cause
Among the beasts no mate for thee was found.” To whom thus half abashed Adam replied.
“Neither her outside formed so fair, nor aught In procreation common to all kinds
(Though higher of the genial bed by far,
And with mysterious reverence I deem)
So much delights me as those graceful acts,
Those thousand decencies that daily flow
From all her words and actions mixed with love And sweet compliance, which declare unfeigned Union of mind, or in us both one soul;
Harmony to behold in wedded pair
More grateful than harmonious sound to the ear.
Yet these subject not; I to thee disclose
What inward thence I feel, not therefore foiled, Who meet with various objects, from the sense Variously representing; yet still free
Approve the best, and follow what I approve.
To love thou blam’st me not, for love thou say’st Leads up to Heav’n, is both the way and guide; Bear with me then, if lawful what I ask;
Love not the Heav’nly spirits, and how their love Express they, by looks only, or do they mix
Irradiance, virtual or immediate touch?”
To whom the angel with a smile that glowed
Celestial rosy red, love’s proper hue,
Answered. “Let it suffice thee that thou know’st Us happy, and without love no happiness.
Whatever pure thou in the body enjoy’st
(And pure thou wert created) we enjoy
In eminence, and obstacle find none
Of membrane, joint, or limb, exclusive bars:
Easier than air with air, if spirits embrace, Total they mix, union of pure with pure
Desiring; nor restrained conveyance need
As flesh to mix with flesh, or soul with soul.
But I can now no more; the parting sun
Beyond the Earth’s green cape and verdant isles Hesperean sets, my signal to depart.
Be strong, live happy, and love, but first of all Him whom to love is to obey, and keep
His great command; take heed lest passion sway Thy judgment to do aught, which else free will Would not admit; thine and of all thy sons
The weal or woe in thee is placed; beware.
I in thy persevering shall rejoice,
And all the blest: stand fast; to stand or fall Free in thine own arbitrament it lies.
Perfect within, no outward aid require;
And all temptation to transgress repel.”
So saying, he arose; whom Adam thus
Followed with benediction. “Since to part,
Go Heav’nly guest, ethereal messenger,
Sent from whose sov’reign goodness I adore.
Gentle to me and affable hath been
Thy condescension, and shall be honored ever
With grateful memory: thou to mankind
Be good and friendly still, and oft return.”
So parted they, the angel up to Heav’n
From the thick shade, and Adam to his bow’r.
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