John Dryden - Delphi Poets Series

by John Dryden

  Enough, to blast the whole creation’s frame.

  Swoln with despite, with sorrow, and with shame,

  Thrice have I beat the wing, and rode with night

  About the world, behind the globe of light,

  To shun the watch of heaven; such care I use:

  (What pains will malice, raised like mine, refuse?

  Not the most abject form of brutes to take.)

  Hid in the spiry volumes of the snake,

  I lurked within the covert of a brake,

  Not yet descried. But see, the woman here

  Alone! beyond my hopes! no guardian near.

  Good omen that: I must retire unseen,

  And, with my borrowed shape, the work begin.[Retires.

  Enter Eve.

  Eve. Thus far, at least, with leave; nor can it be

  A sin to look on this celestial tree:

  I would not more; to touch, a crime may prove:

  Touching is a remoter taste in love.

  Death may be there, or poison in the smell,

  (If death in any thing so fair can dwell:)

  But heaven forbids: I could be satisfied,

  Were every tree but this, but this denied.

  A Serpent enters on the Stage, and makes directly to the Tree of Knowledge, on which winding himself, he plucks an Apple; then descends, and carries it away.

  Strange sight! did then our great Creator grant That privilege, which we, their masters, want,

  To these inferior brings? Or was it chance?

  And was he blest with bolder ignorance?

  I saw his curling crest the trunk enfold:

  The ruddy fruit, distinguished o’er with gold.

  And smiling in its native wealth, was torn

  From the rich bough, and then in triumph borne:

  The venturous victor marched unpunished hence,

  And seemed to boast his fortunate offence.

  To her Lucifer, in a human Shape.

  Lucif. Hail, sovereign of this orb! formed to possess

  The world, and, with one look, all nature bless.

  Nature is thine; thou, empress, dost bestow

  On fruits, to blossom; and on flowers, to blow.

  They happy, yet insensible to boast

  Their bliss: More happy they who know thee most.

  Then happiest I, to human reason raised,

  And voice, with whose first accents thou art praised.

  Eve. What art thou, or from whence? For on this ground,

  Beside my lord’s, ne’er heard I human sound.

  Art thou some other Adam, formed from earth,

  And comest to claim an equal share, by birth,

  In this fair field? Or sprung of heavenly race?

  Lucif. An humble native of this happy place,

  Thy vassal born, and late of lowest kind,

  Whom heaven neglecting made, and scarce designed,

  But threw me in, for number, to the rest,

  Below the mounting bird and grazing beast;

  By chance, not prudence, now superior grown.

  Eve. To make thee such, what miracle was shown?

  Lucif. Who would not tell what thou vouchsaf’st to hear?

  Sawest thou not late a speckled serpent rear

  His gilded spires to climb on yon’ fair tree?

  Before this happy minute I was he.

  Eve. Thou speak’st of wonders: Make thy story plain.

  Lucif. Not wishing then, and thoughtless to obtain

  So great a bliss, but led by sense of good,

  Inborn to all, I sought my needful food:

  Then, on that heavenly tree my sight I cast;

  The colour urged my eye, the scent my taste.

  Not to detain thee long, — I took, did eat:

  Scarce had my palate touched the immortal meat,

  But, on a sudden, turned to what I am,

  God-like, and, next to thee, I fair became;

  Thought, spake, and reasoned; and, by reason found

  Thee, nature’s queen, with all her graces crowned.

  Eve. Happy thy lot; but far unlike is mine:

  Forbid to eat, not daring to repine.

  ’Twas heaven’s command; and should we disobey,

  What raised thy being, ours must take away.

  Lucif. Sure you mistake the precept, or the tree:

  Heaven cannot envious of his blessings be.

  Some chance-born plant he might forbid your use,

  As wild, or guilty of a deadly juice;

  Not this, whose colour, scent divine, and taste,

  Proclaim the thoughtful Maker not in haste.

  Eve. By all these signs, too well I know the fruit,

  And dread a Power severe and absolute.

  Lucif. Severe, indeed; even to injustice hard;

  If death, for knowing more, be your reward:

  Knowledge of good, is good, and therefore fit;

  And to know ill, is good, for shunning it.

  Eve. What, but our good, could he design in this,

  Who gave us all, and placed in perfect bliss?

  Lucif. Excuse my zeal, fair sovereign, in your cause,

  Which dares to tax his arbitrary laws.

  ’Tis all his aim to keep you blindly low,

  That servile fear from ignorance may flow:

  We scorn to worship whom too well we know.

  He knows, that, eating, you shall godlike be;

  As wise, as fit to be adored, as he.

  For his own interest he this law has given;

  Such beauty may raise factions in his heaven.

  By awing you he does possession keep,

  And is too wise to hazard partnership.

  Eve. Alas, who dares dispute with him that right?

  The Power, which formed us, must be infinite.

  Luc. Who told you how your form was first designed?

  The sun and earth produce, of every kind,

  Grass, flowers, and fruits; nay, living creatures too:

  Their mould was base; ’twas more refined in you:

  Where vital heat, in purer organs wrought,

  Produced a nobler kind raised up to thought;

  And that, perhaps, might his beginning be:

  Something was first; I question if ‘twere he.

  But grant him first, yet still suppose him good,

  Not envying those he made, immortal food.

  Eve. But death our disobedience must pursue.

  Lucif. Behold, in me, what shall arrive to you.

  I tasted; yet I live: Nay, more; have got

  A state more perfect than my native lot.

  Nor fear this petty fault his wrath should raise:

  Heaven rather will your dauntless virtue praise,

  That sought, through threatened death, immortal good:

  Gods are immortal only by their food.

  Taste, and remove

  What difference does ‘twixt them and you remain;

  As I gained reason, you shall godhead gain.

  Eve. He eats, and lives, in knowledge greater grown: [Aside.

  Was death invented then for us alone?

  Is intellectual food to man denied,

  Which brutes have with so much advantage tried?

  Nor only tried themselves, but frankly, more,

  To me have offered their unenvied store?

  Lucif. Behold, and all your needless doubts remove;

  View well this tree, (the queen of all the grove)

  How vast her hole, how wide her arms are spread,

  How high above the rest she shoots her head,

  Placed in the midst: would heaven his work disgrace,

  By planting poison in the happiest place?

  Haste; you lose time and godhead by delay.[Plucking the fruit.

  Eve. ’Tis done; I’ll venture all, and disobey. [Looking about her.

  Perhaps, far hid in heaven, he does not spy,

  And none of all his hymning guards are nigh.
/>   To my dear lord the lovely fruit I’ll bear;

  He, to partake my bliss, my crime shall share.[Exit hastily.

  Lucif. She flew, and thanked me not, for haste: ’Twas hard,

  With no return such counsel to reward.

  My work is done, or much the greater part;

  She’s now the tempter to ensnare his heart.

  He, whose firm faith no reason could remove,

  Will melt before that soft seducer, love.[Exit.

  ACT V.

  SCENE I. — Paradise.

  Eve, with a bough in her hand.

  Eve. Methinks I tread more lightly on the ground;

  My nimble feet from unhurt flowers rebound:

  I walk in air, and scorn this earthly seat;

  Heaven is my palace; this my base retreat.

  Take me not, heaven, too soon; ‘twill be unkind

  To leave the partner of my bed behind.

  I love the wretch; but stay, shall I afford

  Him part? already he’s too much my lord.

  ’Tis in my power to be a sovereign now;

  And, knowing more, to make his manhood bow.

  Empire is sweet; but how if heaven has spied?

  If I should die, and He above provide

  Some other Eve, and place her in my stead?

  Shall she possess his love, when I am dead?

  No; he shall eat, and die with me, or live:

  Our equal crimes shall equal fortune give.

  Enter Adam.

  Adam. What joy, without your sight, has earth, in store!

  While you were absent, Eden was no more.

  Winds murmured through the leaves your long delay,

  And fountains, o’er the pebbles, chid your stay:

  But with your presence cheered, they cease to mourn,

  And walks wear fresher green at your return.

  Eve. Henceforth you never shall have cause to chide;

  No future absence shall our joys divide:

  ’Twas a short death my love ne’er tried before,

  And therefore strange; but yet the cause was more.

  Adam. My trembling heart forebodes some ill; I fear

  To ask that cause which I desire to hear.

  What means that lovely fruit? what means, alas!

  That blood, which flushes guilty in your face?

  Speak — do not — yet, at last, I must be told.

  Eve. Have courage, then: ’tis manly to be bold.

  This fruit — why dost thou shake? no death is nigh:

  ’Tis what I tasted first; yet do not die.

  Adam. Is it — (I dare not ask it all at first;

  Doubt is some ease to those who fear the worst:)

  Say, ’tis not —

  Eve. ’Tis not what thou needst to fear:

  What danger does in this fair fruit appear?

  We have been cozened; and had still been so,

  Had I not ventured boldly first to know.

  Yet, not I first; I almost blush to say,

  The serpent eating taught me first the way.

  The serpent tasted, and the godlike fruit

  Gave the dumb voice; gave reason to the brute.

  Adam. O fairest of all creatures, last and best

  Of what heaven made, how art them dispossest

  Of all thy native glories! fallen! decayed!

  (Pity so rare a frame so frail was made)

  Now cause of thy own ruin; and with thine,

  (Ah, who can live without thee!) cause of mine.

  Eve. Reserve thy pity till I want it more:

  I know myself much happier than before;

  More wise, more perfect, all I wish to be,

  Were I but sure, alas! of pleasing thee.

  Adam. You’ve shown, how much you my content design:

  Yet, ah! would heaven’s displeasure pass like mine!

  Must I without you, then, in wild woods dwell?

  Think, and but think, of what I loved so well?

  Condemned to live with subjects ever mute;

  A savage prince, unpleased, though absolute?

  Eve. Please then yourself with me, and freely taste,

  Lest I, without you, should to godhead haste:

  Lest, differing in degree, you claim too late

  Unequal love, when ’tis denied by fate.

  Adam. Cheat not yourself with dreams of deity;

  Too well, but yet too late, your crime I see:

  Nor think the fruit your knowledge does improve;

  But you have beauty still, and I have love.

  Not cozened, I with choice my life resign:

  Imprudence was your fault, but love was mine. [Takes the fruit and eats it.

  Eve. O wondrous power of matchless love exprest! [Embracing him.

  Why was this trial thine, of loving best?

  I envy thee that lot; and could it be,

  Would venture something more than death for thee.

  Not that I fear, that death the event can prove;

  Ware both immortal, while so well we love.

  Adam. Whate’er shall be the event, the lot is cast;

  Where appetites are given, what sin to taste?

  Or if a sin, ’tis but by precept such;

  The offence so small, the punishment’s too much.

  To seek so soon his new-made world’s decay:

  Nor we, nor that, were fashioned for a day.

  Eve. Give to the winds thy fear of death, or ill;

  And think us made but for each other’s will.

  Adam. I will, at least, defer that anxious thought,

  And death, by fear, shall not be nigher brought:

  If he will come, let us to joys make haste;

  Then let him seize us when our pleasure’s past.

  We’ll take up all before; and death shall find

  We have drained life, and left a void behind.[Exeunt.

  Enter Lucifer.

  Lucif. ’Tis done:

  Sick Nature, at that instant, trembled round;

  And mother Earth sighed, as she felt the wound.

  Of how short durance was this new-made state!

  How far more mighty than heaven’s love, hell’s hate!

  His project ruined, and his king of clay:

  He formed an empire for his foe to sway.

  Heaven let him rule, which by his arms he got;

  I’m pleased to have obtained the second lot.

  This earth is mine; whose lord I made my thrall:

  Annexing to my crown his conquered ball.

  Loosed from the lakes my regions I will lead,

  And o’er the darkened air black banners spread:

  Contagious damps, from hence, shall mount above,

  And force him to his inmost heaven’s remove. [A clap of thunder is heard.

  He hears already, and I boast too soon;

  I dread that engine which secured his throne.

  I’ll dive below his wrath, into the deep,

  And waste that empire, which I cannot keep.[Sinks down.

  Raphael and Gabriel descend.

  Raph. As much of grief as happiness admits

  In heaven, on each celestial forehead sits:

  Kindness for man, and pity for his fate,

  May mix with bliss, and yet not violate.

  Their heavenly harps a lower strain began;

  And, in soft music, mourned the fall of man.

  Gab. I saw the angelic guards from earth ascend,

  (Grieved they must now no longer man attend:)

  The beams about their temples dimly shone;

  One would have thought the crime had been their own.

  The etherial people flocked for news in haste,

  Whom they, with down-cast looks, and scarce saluting past:

  While each did, in his pensive breast, prepare

  A sad account of their successless care.

  Raph. The Eternal yet, in majesty severe,

  And strictest justice, did mild pit
y bear:

  Their deaths deferred; and banishment, (their doom,)

  In penitence foreseen, leaves mercy room.

  Gab. That message is thy charge: Mine leads me hence;

  Placed at the garden’s gate, for its defence,

  Lest man, returning, the blest place pollute,

  And ‘scape from death, by life’s immortal fruit. [Another clap of thunder. Exeunt severally.

  Enter Adam and Eve, affrighted.

  Adam. In what dark cavern shall I hide my head?

  Where seek retreat, now innocence is fled?

  Safe in that guard, I durst even hell defy;

  Without it, tremble now, when heaven is nigh.

  Eve. What shall we do? or where direct our flight?

  Eastward, as far as I could cast my sight,

  From opening heavens, I saw descending light.

  Its glittering through the trees I still behold;

  The cedar tops seem all to burn with gold.

  Adam. Some shape divine, whose beams I cannot bear!

  Would I were hid, where light could not appear.

  Deep into some thick covert would I run,

  Impenetrable to the stars or sun,

  And fenced from day, by night’s eternal skreen;

  Unknown to heaven, and to myself unseen.

  Eve. In vain: What hope to shun his piercing sight,

  Who from dark chaos struck the sparks of light?

  Adam. These should have been your thoughts, when, parting hence,

  You trusted to your guideless innocence.

  See now the effects of your own wilful mind:

  Guilt walks before us; death pursues behind.

  So fatal ’twas to seek temptations out:

  Most confidence has still most cause to doubt.

  Eve. Such might have been thy hap, alone assailed;

  And so, together, might we both have failed.

  Cursed vassalage of all my future kind!

  First idolized, till love’s hot fire be o’er,

  Then slaves to those who courted us before.

  Adam. I counselled you to stay; your pride refused:

  By your own lawless will you stand accused.

  Eve. Have you that privilege of only wise,

  And would you yield to her you so despise?

  You should have shown the authority you boast,

  And, sovereign-like, my headlong will have crost:

  Counsel was not enough to sway my heart;

  An absolute restraint had been your part.

  Adam. Even such returns do they deserve to find,

  When force is lawful, who are fondly kind.

  Unlike my love; for when thy guilt I knew,

  I shared the curse which did that crime pursue.

  Hard fate of love! which rigour did forbear,

  And now ’tis taxed, because ’twas not severe.