Who durst defy the Omnipotent to arms. Nine times the space that measures day and night 50 Lay vanquish'd, rolling in the fiery gulf, Reserved him to more wrath; for now the thought 55 Torments him; round he throws his baleful eyes, That witness'd huge affliction and dismay, Mix'd with obdurate pride and steadfast hate. At once, as far as angels' ken, he views 60 A dungeon horrible, on all sides round, As one great furnace, flamed; yet from those flames No light, but rather darkness visible Served only to discover sights of woe, Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace 65 And rest can never dwell, hope never comes, With ever-burning sulphur unconsumed. For those rebellious; here their prison ordain'd 70 75 80 And thence in heaven call'd Satan, with bold words Breaking the horrid silence, thus began: If thou beest he; but oh, how fallen! how changed From him, who in the happy realms of light, Clothed with transcendent brightness, didst outshine Myriads, though bright! If he, whom mutual league, United thoughts and counsels, equal hope And hazard in the glorious enterprise, 85 Join'd with me once, now misery hath join'd 90 From what highth fallen, so much the stronger proved He with his thunder: and till then who knew The force of those dire arms? yet not for those, Though changed in outward lustre, that fix'd mind, That durst dislike his reign, and, me preferring, And shook his throne. What though the field be All is not lost; the unconquerable will, So spake the apostate angel though in pain, O prince, O chief of many-throned powers, That led the embattled seraphim to war Under thy conduct, and, in dreadful deeds Fearless, endanger'd heaven's perpetual King, And put to proof his high supremacy, Whether upheld by strength, or chance, or fate, Too well I see and rue the dire event, That with sad overthrow and foul defeat 135 Hath lost us heaven, and all this mighty host As far as gods and heavenly essences 140 Though all our glory extinct, and happy state But what it he our Conqueror, whom I now Than such could have o'erpower'd such force as ours, 145 Have left us this our spirit and strength entire, 150 What can it then avail, though yet we feel To undergo eternal punishment? 155 Whereto with speedy words the arch-fiend replied: Fallen cherub, to be weak is miserable, Doing or suffering; but of this be sure, To do aught good never will be our task, But ever to do ill our sole delight, 160 As being the contrary to his high will 165 170 Back to the gates of heaven; the sulphurous hail, Shot after us in storm, o'erblown, hath laid Of heaven received us falling; and the thunder, 175 180 Save what the glimmering of these livid flames 185 What reinforcement we may gain from hope; 190 195 200 205 Thus Satan, talking to his nearest mate, With head uplift above the wave, and eyes That sparkling blazed; 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; Briareos, or Typhon, whom the den By ancient Tarsus held, or that sea-beast Leviathan, which God of all his works Created hugest that swim the ocean stream: Him haply slumbering on the Norway foam, The pilot of some small night-founder'd skiff Deeming some island, oft, as seamen tell, With fixed anchor in his scaly rind Moors by his side under the lee, while night Invests the sea, and wished morn delays: So stretch'd out huge in length the arch-fiend lay Chain'd on the burning lake, nor ever thence Had risen or heaved 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 enraged might see How all his malice served but to bring forth Infinite goodness, grace, and mercy, shown On man by him seduced; but on himself Treble confusion, wrath, and vengeance poured. Forthwith upright he rears from off the pool His mighty stature; on each hand the flames Driven backward slope their pointing spires, and roll'd In billows leave in the midst a horrid vale. Then with expanded wings he steers his flight Aloft, incumbent on the dusky air, 210 215 220 225 230 That felt unusual weight, till on dry land Both glorying to have 'scaped the Stygian flood, Is this the region, this the soil, the clime, 235 240 That we must change for heaven, this mournful gloom For that celestial light? Be it so, since he, 245 Who now is Sovran, can dispose and bid What shall be right: farthest from him is best, Whom reason hath equall'd, force hath made supreme Above his equals. Farewell, happy fields, Where joy for ever dwells: hail, horrors; hail, 250 Infernal world; and thou, profoundest hell, 255 Whom thunder hath made greater? Here at least We shall be free; the Almighty hath not built 260 265 270 |