Paradise Lost (Modern Library Classics)

by Milton, John

  880. approve: agree; try or test (see Satan’s rejoinder, l. 896).

  886. esteem of wise: reputation for good sense.

  893–94. recompense … delight: exchange pain for pleasure.

  896. object: raise as an objection.

  899. durance: forced confinement; thus much what: so much (in reply to) what.

  904. Gabriel ironically laments the loss of Satan as an arbiter of wisdom; see line 886.

  906. returns: can take either Satan (archaic usage, reflexive) or folly as its subject.

  911. However: by any means.

  926. stood: withstood.

  928. The: per first edition; second edition has “Thy.”

  930–33. But … Leader: Gabriel’s remarks, says Satan, reveal his ignorance about how a dedicated leader ought to proceed after arduous undertakings and failures.

  930. at random: without discrimination.

  939. afflicted: struck down (cp. 1.186).

  940. mid-air: After the Fall, Satan rules the middle region of the air, which extends as high as the mountaintops (1.516–17). See PR 1.39–47, 2.117; Eph. 2.2, 6.12.

  942. gay: ebullient, showy, self-indulgent; a pointed retort to Zephon (ll. 838–40).

  945. practiced distances: applies both to courtly protocol (cringe) and martial training, especially swordplay (fight).

  949. Replying to Satan at lines 930–34.

  958–60. Gabriel’s reply allows that Heaven is a realm of groveling toadies (Empson 1965, 111). Fowler counters that the response simply conforms to Satan’s insulting tenor (ll. 942–45). Cp. Prometheus’ scornful words to Zeus’s followers: “Worship, adore, and fawn upon … thy lord” (Aeschylus, Prom. 937).

  962. aread: advise, order; avaunt: begone; diction used especially for expulsion of evil spirits.

  965–67. With Gabriel’s threat to drag a chained Satan to the pit and seal him there (note the emphatic present tense), Milton returns to the apocalyptic context evoked at lines 1–12 (Rev. 20.1–3).

  967. facile: easily negotiated; the diction implies negligence, as does too slightly barred, though again Gabriel may only be responding in Satan’s scornful terms (ll. 898–99).

  971. limitary: stationed at a border or boundary; of limited authority (in reply to l. 964).

  974. Ride on thy wings: “He rode upon a Cherub and did fly” (Ps. 18.10).

  975–76. Satan refers to God’s chariot (6.750ff); cp. Ezek. 1, 10, 11.22.

  976. progress: royal tour.

  980–83. With … them: The comparison of a group of warriors to a windswept field of grain is common in epic, beginning with Homer (Il. 2.147–50). Leonard argues that the simile, commonly used of demoralized troops (like a field of grain flattened by wind), implies the good angels’ weakness. Milton’s simile departs from its precedents, however. Gabriel’s troops, spears ported, form a thick semicircle around Satan. Viewed together, the shafts of their spears would appear to slant in several directions, like stalks in a field of grain waving in the uncertain wind that precedes a storm.

  978–80. sharp’ning … spears: Taken in their most specific military senses, phalanx and ported are inconsistent. Troops in a classical Greek phalanx interlock shields in a square formation and carry their spears projecting forward. Ported spears are held diagonally, across the body, spearhead at the left shoulder. The movement into a crescent shape (sharp’ning in moonèd horns) suggests that phalanx here is used in its more general sense of a group moving closely together.

  981. Ceres: goddess of grain, mother of Proserpine (cp. 268–72n).

  983–85. the careful plowman … chaff: The subject conveyed by the careful plowman is not clear. Satan seems an unlikely candidate in light of line 985. The identification of God as the plowman is more likely in light of literary precedent, the designation of God in this book as the planter of the Garden, and the scriptural imagery of sheaves and chaff, which fits the apocalyptic role of God. The choice attributed to the plowman is also consistent with subsequent imagery of God’s scales.

  986. dilated: enlarged, owing to spirits’ ability to shrink or swell at will (cp. 1.428–29).

  987. Teneriffe or Atlas unremoved: The summit of Mount Teneriffe (two miles high, in the Canary Islands) was in Milton’s century estimated at “fifteen miles” (Hume). Atlas: cloud-capped mountain in Libya on which the sky was imagined to rest, per the myth of Atlas. unremoved: Latinate past participle meaning immovable (cp. l. 493). The usage is likely ironic. Faith can move mountains (1 Cor. 13.2), as angels provoked by Satan amply demonstrate (6.645–49).

  988. His stature reached the sky: Homer’s description of Discord and Vergil’s of Rumor are usually adduced (Il. 4.443; Aen. 4.177), but the rendition of Passover night in the apocryphal Wisdom of Solomon is a more apt precedent for the configuration of the scene: “Night in her swift course was half spent, when thy almighty Word leapt from thy royal throne in heaven into the midst of that doomed land like a relentless warrior … and stood and filled it all with death, his head touching the heavens, his feet on earth” (14–16).

  992. cope: vault; see 776–77n. The threat seems overstated given God’s authority over creatures: he curbs angelic muscle to preserve the landscape during the War in Heaven (6.225–29), and Gabriel will soon claim that his strength has been doubled (ll. 1006–10).

  997. golden scales: translates Homer’s phrase for the balance in which Zeus weighs destinies of opposed armies or warriors (Il. 8.69, 22.209). Here it refers to the constellation Libra (the scales) between Astrea and the Scorpion sign.

  998. Astrea: the constellation of Virgo (the Virgin). Astrea, goddess of justice, resided on earth during the Golden Age, but human iniquity drove her up to heaven, where she became this constellation (Ovid, Met. 1.149ff).

  999–1001. Wherein … counterpoise: Weight is a crucial quality in Scripture, where God as creator and judge is repeatedly depicted as using a scale (Job 28.24ff, Isa. 40.12, 1 Sam. 2.3).

  1001. ponders: weighs, deliberates.

  1012. In Homer and Vergil, the loser’s balance sinks; the victor’s ascends. But Milton follows scriptural precedent: “Thou art weighed in the balances and art found wanting” (Dan. 5.27). Gabriel’s reading seems inconsistent with the claim that God weighs the sequel each of parting and of fight (l. 1003). The outcome is nevertheless consistent with Gabriel’s threat to apprehend Satan only if he refused to depart (ll. 965–67).

  1014. nor more: nor (said) more.

  1015. Cp. the final lines of Vergil’s Aen.

  BOOK V

  THE ARGUMENT

  Morning approached, Eve relates to Adam her troublesome dream; he likes it not, yet comforts her. They come forth to their day labors. Their morning hymn at the door of their bower. God to render man inexcusable sends Raphael to admonish him of his obedience, of his free estate, of his enemy near at hand; who he is, and why his enemy, and whatever else may avail Adam to know. Raphael comes down to Paradise, his appearance described, his coming discerned by Adam afar off sitting at the door of his bower. He goes out to meet him, brings him to his lodge, entertains him with the choicest fruits of Paradise got together by Eve; their discourse at table. Raphael performs his message, minds Adam of his state and of his enemy; relates at Adam’s request who that enemy is, and how he came to be so, beginning from his first revolt in Heaven, and the occasion thereof; how he drew his legions after him to the parts of the north, and there incited them to rebel with him, persuading all but only Abdiel, a Seraph, who in argument dissuades and opposes him, then forsakes him.

  Now Morn her rosy steps in th’ eastern clime

  Advancing, sowed the earth with orient pearl,

  When Adam waked, so customed, for his sleep

  Was airy light, from pure digestion bred,

  And temperate vapors bland5, which th’ only sound

  Of leaves and fuming rills6, Aurora’s fan,

  Lightly dispersed, and the shrill matin song

  Of birds on every bough; so much the more
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br />   His wonder was to find unwakened Eve

  With tresses discomposed, and glowing cheek,

  As through unquiet rest: he on his side

  Leaning half-raised, with looks of cordial love

  Hung over her enamored, and beheld

  Beauty, which whether waking or asleep,

  Shot forth peculiar15 graces; then with voice

  Mild, as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes16,

  Her hand soft touching, whispered thus. “Awake17

  My fairest, my espoused, my latest found,

  Heav’n’s last best gift, my ever new delight,

  Awake, the morning shines, and the fresh field

  Calls us; we lose the prime21, to mark how spring

  Our tended plants, how blows22 the citron grove,

  What drops the myrrh, and what the balmy reed23,

  How nature paints her colors, how the bee

  Sits on the bloom extracting liquid sweet.”

  Such whispering waked her, but with startled eye

  On Adam, whom embracing, thus she spoke.

  “O sole in whom my thoughts find all repose,

  My glory, my perfection, glad I see

  Thy face, and morn returned, for I this night,

  Such night till this I never passed, have dreamed,

  If dreamed, not as I oft am wont, of thee,

  Works of day past, or morrow’s next design,

  But of offense and trouble, which my mind

  Knew never till this irksome night; methought

  Close at mine ear one called me forth to walk

  With gentle voice, I thought it thine; it said,

  ‘Why sleep’st thou Eve?38 Now is the pleasant time,

  The cool, the silent, save where silence yields

  To the night-warbling bird, that now awake

  Tunes sweetest his love-labored song; now reigns

  Full orbed the moon, and with more pleasing light

  Shadowy sets off the face of things; in vain,

  If none regard; heav’n wakes with all his eyes44,

  Whom to behold but thee, nature’s desire,

  In whose sight all things joy, with ravishment

  Attracted by thy beauty still47 to gaze.’

  I rose as at thy call, but found thee not;

  To find thee I directed then my walk;

  And on, methought, alone I passed through ways

  That brought me on a sudden to the tree

  Of interdicted knowledge: fair it seemed,

  Much fairer to my fancy than by day:

  And as I wond’ring looked, beside it stood

  One shaped and winged like one of those from Heav’n

  By us oft seen; his dewy locks distilled

  Ambrosia; on that tree he also gazed;

  And ‘O fair plant,’ said he, ‘with fruit surcharged,

  Deigns none to ease thy load and taste thy sweet,

  Nor god60, nor man; is knowledge so despised?

  Or envy, or what reserve61 forbids to taste?

  Forbid who will, none shall from me withhold

  Longer thy offered good, why else set here?’

  This said he paused not, but with vent’rous arm

  He plucked, he tasted; me damp horror chilled65

  At such bold words vouched with66 a deed so bold:

  But he thus overjoyed, ‘O fruit divine,

  Sweet of thyself, but much more sweet thus cropped,

  Forbidden here, it seems, as only fit

  For gods, yet able to make gods of men:

  And why not gods of men, since good, the more

  Communicated, more abundant grows,

  The author not impaired, but honored more?

  Here, happy creature, fair angelic Eve,

  Partake thou also; happy though thou art,

  Happier thou may’st be, worthier canst not be:

  Taste this, and be henceforth among the gods

  Thyself a goddess, not to Earth confined,

  But sometimes79 in the air, as we, sometimes

  Ascend to Heav’n, by merit thine, and see

  What life the gods live there, and such live thou.’

  So saying, he drew nigh, and to me held,

  Even to my mouth of that same fruit held part

  Which he had plucked; the pleasant savory smell

  So quickened appetite, that I, methought,

  Could not but taste. Forthwith up to the clouds

  With him I flew, and underneath beheld

  The Earth outstretched immense, a prospect wide

  And various: wond’ring at my flight and change

  To this high exaltation; suddenly

  My guide was gone, and I, methought, sunk down,

  And fell asleep; but O how glad I waked

  To find this but a dream!” Thus Eve her night

  Related, and thus Adam answered sad94.

  “Best image of myself and dearer half,

  The trouble of thy thoughts this night in sleep

  Affects me equally; nor can I like

  This uncouth98 dream, of evil sprung I fear;

  Yet evil whence? In thee can harbor none,

  Created pure. But100 know that in the soul

  Are many lesser faculties that serve

  Reason as chief; among these Fancy next

  Her office holds; of all external things,

  Which the five watchful senses represent,

  She forms imaginations, airy shapes,

  Which reason joining or disjoining, frames

  All what we affirm or what deny, and call

  Our knowledge or opinion; then retires

  Into her private cell109 when nature rests,

  Oft in her absence mimic Fancy wakes

  To imitate her; but misjoining shapes,

  Wild work produces oft, and most in dreams,

  Ill matching words and deeds long past or late.

  Some such resemblances methinks I find

  Of our last evening’s talk115, in this thy dream,

  But with addition strange; yet be not sad.

  Evil into the mind of god or man

  May come118 or go, so unapproved, and leave

  No spot or blame behind: Which gives me hope

  That what in sleep thou didst abhor to dream,

  Waking thou never wilt consent to do.

  Be not disheartened then, nor cloud those looks

  That wont to be123 more cheerful and serene

  Than when fair morning first smiles on the world,

  And let us to our fresh employments rise

  Among the groves, the fountains, and the flow’rs

  That open now their choicest bosomed smells

  Reserved from night, and kept for thee in store.”

  So cheered he his fair spouse, and she was cheered,

  But silently a gentle tear let fall

  From either eye, and wiped them with her hair;

  Two other precious drops that ready stood,

  Each in their crystal sluice, he ere they fell133

  Kissed as the gracious signs of sweet remorse

  And pious awe, that feared to have offended.

  So all was cleared, and to the field they haste.

  But first from under shady arborous roof,

  Soon as they forth were come to open sight

  Of day-spring, and the sun, who scarce up risen

  With wheels yet hov’ring o’er the ocean brim,

  Shot parallel to the Earth his dewy ray,

  Discovering in wide landscape all the east

  Of Paradise and Eden’s happy plains,

  Lowly they bowed adoring, and began

  Their orisons, each morning duly paid

  In various146 style, for neither various style

  Nor holy rapture wanted147 they to praise

  Their Maker, in fit strains pronounced or sung

  Unmeditated, such prompt eloquence

  Flowed from their lips, in prose or numerous150 verse, />
  More tuneable than needed lute or harp

  To add more sweetness, and they thus began.

  “These are153 thy glorious works, parent of good,

  Almighty, thine this universal frame,

  Thus wondrous fair; thyself how wondrous then!

  Unspeakable, who sit’st above these heavens

  To us invisible or dimly seen

  In these thy lowest works, yet these declare

  Thy goodness beyond thought, and power divine:

  Speak ye who best can tell, ye sons of light,

  Angels, for ye behold him, and with songs

  And choral symphonies, day without night,

  Circle his throne rejoicing, ye in Heav’n,

  On Earth join all ye creatures to extol

  Him first,165 him last, him midst, and without end.

  Fairest of stars166, last in the train of night,

  If better thou belong not to the dawn,

  Sure pledge of day, that crown’st the smiling morn

  With thy bright circlet, praise him in thy sphere

  While day arises, that sweet hour of prime.

  Thou sun, of this great world both eye and soul,

  Acknowledge him thy greater, sound his praise

  In thy eternal course, both when thou climb’st,

  And when high noon hast gained, and when thou fall’st.

  Moon, that now meet’st the orient sun, now fli’st

  With the fixed stars, fixed in their orb that flies,

  And ye five other wand’ring fires that move

  In mystic dance not without song178, resound

  His praise, who out of darkness called up light.

  Air, and ye elements the eldest birth

  Of nature’s womb, that in quaternion181 run

  Perpetual circle, multiform, and mix

  And nourish all things, let your ceaseless change

  Vary to our great Maker still new praise.

  Ye mists and exhalations that now rise

  From hill or steaming lake, dusky or gray,

  Till the sun paint your fleecy skirts with gold,

  In honor to the world’s great author rise;

  Whether to deck with clouds the uncolored sky,

  Or wet the thirsty earth with falling showers,

  Rising or falling still advance his praise.

  His praise ye winds, that from four quarters blow,

  Breathe soft or loud; and wave your tops, ye pines,