Book Read Free

Paradise Lost

Page 14

by John Milton

“I should be much for open war, O peers,

  As not behind in hate, if what was urged

  Main reason to persuade immediate war,

  Did not dissuade me most, and seem to cast

  Ominous conjecture123 on the whole success:

  When he who most excels in fact124 of arms,

  In what he counsels and in what excels

  Mistrustful, grounds his courage on despair

  And utter dissolution, as the scope127

  Of all his aim, after some dire revenge.

  First, what revenge? The tow’rs of Heav’n are filled

  With armèd watch, that render all access

  Impregnable; oft on the bordering deep

  Encamp their legions, or with obscure wing

  Scout far and wide into the realm of Night,

  Scorning surprise. Or could we break our way

  By force, and at our heels all Hell should rise

  With blackest insurrection, to confound

  Heav’n’s purest light, yet our great enemy

  All incorruptible would on his throne

  Sit unpolluted, and th’ ethereal mold139

  Incapable of stain would soon expel

  Her mischief141, and purge off the baser fire

  Victorious. Thus repulsed, our final hope

  Is flat despair: we must exasperate

  Th’ almighty Victor to spend all his rage,

  And that must end us, that must be our cure,

  To be no more. Sad cure; for who would lose,

  Though full of pain, this intellectual being,

  Those thoughts that wander through eternity,

  To perish rather, swallowed up and lost

  In the wide womb of uncreated Night149,

  Devoid of sense and motion? And who knows,

  Let this be good152, whether our angry foe

  Can give it, or will ever? How he can

  Is doubtful; that he never will is sure.

  Will he, so wise, let loose at once his ire,

  Belike through impotence, or unaware,156

  To give his enemies their wish, and end

  Them in his anger, whom his anger saves

  To punish endless? ‘Wherefore cease we then?’

  Say they who160 counsel war, ‘we are decreed,

  Reserved and destined to eternal woe;

  Whatever doing, what can we suffer more,

  What can we suffer worse?’ Is this then worst,

  Thus sitting, thus consulting, thus in arms?

  What when we fled amain165, pursued and strook

  With Heav’n’s afflicting thunder, and besought

  The deep to shelter us? This Hell then seemed

  A refuge from those wounds. Or when we lay

  Chained on the burning lake? That sure was worse.

  What if170 the breath that kindled those grim fires

  Awaked should blow them into sevenfold rage

  And plunge us in the flames? Or from above

  Should intermitted173 vengeance arm again

  His red right hand174 to plague us? What if all

  Her175 stores were opened, and this firmament

  Of Hell should spout her cataracts176 of fire

  Impendent horrors, threat’ning hideous fall

  One day upon our heads; while we perhaps

  Designing or exhorting glorious war,

  Caught in a fiery tempest shall be hurled

  Each on his rock transfixed, the sport and prey

  Of racking whirlwinds180, or for ever sunk

  Under yon boiling ocean, wrapped in chains;

  There to converse with everlasting groans,

  Unrespited, unpitied, unreprieved,

  Ages of hopeless end. This would be worse.

  War therefore,187 open or concealed, alike

  My voice dissuades; for what can force or guile188

  With him, or who deceive his mind, whose eye

  Views all things at one view? He from Heav’n’s highth

  All these our motions vain, sees and derides;

  Not more almighty to resist our might

  Than wise to frustrate all our plots and wiles.

  Shall we then live thus vile, the race of Heav’n

  Thus trampled, thus expelled to suffer here

  Chains and these torments? Better these than worse

  By my advice; since fate inevitable197

  Subdues us, and omnipotent decree,

  The victor’s will. To suffer, as to do199,

  Our strength is equal200, nor the law unjust

  That so ordains: this was at first resolved,

  If we were wise, against so great a foe

  Contending, and so doubtful what might fall.

  I laugh, when those who at the spear are bold

  And vent’rous, if that fail them, shrink and fear

  What yet they know must follow, to endure

  Exile, or ignominy, or bonds, or pain,

  The sentence of their conqueror. This is now

  Our doom; which if we can sustain and bear,

  Our supreme foe in time may much remit

  His anger, and perhaps thus far removed

  Not mind us not offending, satisfied

  With what is punished213; whence these raging fires

  Will slacken, if his breath stir not their flames.

  Our purer essence then will overcome

  Their noxious vapor, or inured not feel,

  changed at length, and to the place conformed

  In temper and in nature, will receive

  Familiar the fierce heat, and void of pain;

  This horror will grow mild, this darkness light220,

  Besides what hope the never-ending flight

  Of future days may bring, what chance, what change

  Worth waiting, since our present lot appears

  For happy though but ill, for ill not worst223,

  If we procure not to ourselves more woe.”

  Thus Belial with words clothed in reason’s garb

  Counseled ignoble ease, and peaceful sloth,

  Not peace: and after him thus Mammon228 spake.

  “Either to disenthrone the King of Heav’n

  We war, if war be best, or to regain

  Our own right lost: him to unthrone we then

  May hope when everlasting Fate shall yield

  To fickle Chance, and Chaos judge the strife:

  The former vain to hope argues as vain

  The latter: for what place can be for us

  Within Heav’n’s bound, unless Heav’n’s Lord supreme

  We overpower? Suppose he should relent

  And publish grace to all, on promise made

  Of new subjection; with what eyes could we

  Stand in his presence humble, and receive

  Strict laws imposed, to celebrate his throne

  With warbled hymns, and to his Godhead sing

  Forced hallelujahs; while he lordly sits

  Our envied Sov’reign, and his altar breathes

  Ambrosial245 odors and ambrosial flowers,

  Our servile offerings. This must be our task

  In Heav’n, this our delight; how wearisome

  Eternity so spent in worship paid

  To whom we hate. Let us not then pursue

  By force impossible, by leave obtained

  Unacceptable, though in Heav’n, our state

  Of splendid vassalage, but rather seek

  Our own good from our selves, and from our own

  Live to our selves, though in this vast recess,

  Free, and to none accountable, preferring

  Hard liberty before the easy yoke256

  Of servile pomp. Our greatness will appear

  Then most conspicuous, when great things of small,

  Useful of hurtful, prosperous of adverse

  We can create, and in what place soe’er

  Thrive under evil, and work ease out of pain

  Through labor and endura
nce. This deep world

  Of darkness do we dread? How oft amidst263

  Thick clouds and dark doth Heav’n’s all-ruling Sire

  Choose to reside, his glory unobscured,

  And with the majesty of darkness round

  Covers his throne; from whence deep thunders roar

  Must’ring their rage, and Heav’n resembles Hell?

  As he our darkness, cannot we his light

  Imitate when we please? This desert soil

  Wants not271 her hidden luster, gems and gold;

  Nor want we skill or art, from whence to raise

  Magnificence; and what can Heav’n show more?

  Our torments also may in length of time

  Become our elements275, these piercing fires

  As soft as now severe, our temper changed

  Into their temper; which must needs remove

  The sensible278 of pain. All things invite

  To peaceful counsels, and the settled state

  Of order, how in safety best we may

  Compose281 our present evils, with regard

  Of what we are and where282, dismissing quite

  All thoughts of war: ye have what I advise.”

  He scarce had finished, when such murmur filled

  Th’ assembly, as when hollow rocks retain

  The sound of blust’ring winds, which all night long

  Had roused the sea, now with hoarse cadence lull

  Seafaring men o’erwatched288, whose bark by chance

  Or pinnace anchors in a craggy bay

  After the tempest: such applause was heard

  As Mammon ended, and his sentence pleased,

  Advising peace: for such another field292

  They dreaded worse than Hell: so much the fear

  Of thunder and the sword of Michael

  Wrought still within them; and no less desire

  To found this nether empire, which might rise

  By policy297, and long process of time,

  In emulation opposite to Heav’n.

  Which when Beëlzebub perceived, than whom,

  Satan except, none higher sat, with grave

  Aspect he rose, and in his rising seemed

  A pillar of state; deep on his front302 engraven

  Deliberation sat and public care;

  And princely counsel in his face yet shone,

  Majestic though in ruin: sage he stood

  With Atlantean306 shoulders fit to bear

  The weight of mightiest monarchies; his look

  Drew audience and attention still as night

  Or summer’s noontide air, while thus he spake.

  “Thrones and imperial Powers, offspring of Heav’n,

  Ethereal Virtues; or these titles now

  Must we renounce, and changing style312 be called

  Princes of Hell? For so the popular vote

  Inclines, here to continue, and build up here

  A growing empire; doubtless315; while we dream,

  And know not that the King of Heav’n hath doomed

  This place our dungeon, not our safe retreat

  Beyond his potent arm, to live exempt

  From Heav’n’s high jurisdiction, in new league

  Banded against his throne, but to remain

  In strictest321 bondage, though thus far removed,

  Under th’ inevitable curb, reserved

  His captive multitude: for he, be sure

  In highth or depth, still first and last324 will reign

  Sole king, and of his kingdom lose no part

  By our revolt, but over Hell extend

  His empire, and with iron scepter rule327

  Us here, as with his golden those in Heav’n.

  What329 sit we then projecting peace and war?

  War hath determined us330, and foiled with loss

  Irreparable; terms of peace yet none

  Vouchsafed or sought; for what peace will be giv’n

  To us enslaved, but custody severe,

  And stripes334, and arbitrary punishment

  Inflicted? And what peace can we return,

  But to our power hostility and hate,

  Untamed reluctance337, and revenge though slow,

  Yet ever plotting how the Conqueror least338

  May reap his conquest, and may least rejoice

  In doing what we most in suffering feel?

  Nor will occasion want, nor shall we need

  With dangerous expedition to invade

  Heav’n, whose high walls fear no assault or siege,

  Or ambush from the deep. What if we find

  Some easier enterprise? There is a place

  (If ancient and prophetic fame in Heav’n

  Err not) another world, the happy seat

  Of some new race called Man, about this time

  To be created349 like to us, though less

  In power and excellence, but favored more

  Of him who rules above; so was his will

  Pronounced among352 the gods, and by an oath,

  That shook Heav’n’s whole circumference, confirmed.

  Thither let us bend all our thoughts, to learn

  What creatures there inhabit, of what mold355,

  Or substance, how endued, and what their power,

  And where their weakness, how attempted357 best,

  By force or subtlety: though Heav’n be shut,

  And Heav’n’s high arbitrator sit secure

  In his own strength, this place may lie exposed

  The utmost border of his kingdom, left

  To their defense who hold it: here perhaps

  Some advantageous act may be achieved

  By sudden onset, either with Hell fire

  To waste his whole creation, or possess

  All as our own, and drive as we were driven,

  The puny367 habitants, or if not drive,

  Seduce them to our party, that their God368

  May prove their foe, and with repenting hand

  Abolish his own works369. This would surpass

  Common revenge, and interrupt his joy

  In our confusion, and our joy upraise

  In his disturbance, when his darling sons

  Hurled headlong374 to partake with us, shall curse

  Their frail original375, and faded bliss,

  Faded so soon. Advise if this be worth

  Attempting, or to sit in darkness here377

  Hatching vain empires.” Thus Beëlzebub

  Pleaded his devilish counsel, first devised379

  By Satan, and in part proposed: for whence,

  But from the author of all ill could spring

  So deep a malice, to confound the race

  Of mankind in one root383, and Earth with Hell

  To mingle and involve, done all to spite

  The great Creator? But their spite still serves

  His glory to augment. The bold design

  Pleased highly those infernal States387, and joy

  Sparkled in all their eyes; with full assent

  They vote: whereat his speech he thus renews.

  “Well have ye judged, well ended long debate,

  Synod391 of gods, and like to what ye are,

  Great things resolved, which from the lowest deep

  Will once more lift us up, in spite of fate,

  Nearer our ancient seat; perhaps in view

  Of those bright confines, whence with neighboring arms

  And opportune excursion we may chance

  Re-enter Heav’n; or else in some mild zone

  Dwell not unvisited of Heav’n’s fair light

  Secure, and at the bright’ning orient beam

  Purge off this gloom; the soft delicious air,

  To heal the scar of these corrosive fires

  Shall breathe her balm. But first whom shall we send

  In search of this new world, whom shall we find

  Sufficient? Who shall tempt404 with wand’ring feet

&
nbsp; The dark unbottomed infinite abyss405

  And through the palpable obscure406 find out

  His uncouth407 way, or spread his airy flight

  Upborne with indefatigable wings

  Over the vast abrupt409, ere he arrive

  The happy isle410; what strength, what art can then

  Suffice, or what evasion bear him safe

  Through the strict senteries and stations thick

  Of angels watching round? Here he had413 need

  All circumspection, and we now no less

  Choice in our suffrage415; for on whom we send,

  The weight of all and our last hope relies.”

  This said, he sat; and expectation held

  His look suspense418, awaiting who appeared

  To second, or oppose, or undertake

  The perilous attempt: but all sat mute,

  Pondering the danger with deep thoughts; and each

  In other’s count’nance read his own dismay

  Astonished: none among the choice and prime

  Of those Heav’n-warring champions could be found

  So hardy as to proffer or accept

  Alone the dreadful voyage; till at last

  Satan, whom now transcendent glory raised

  Above his fellows, with monarchal pride

  Conscious of highest worth, unmoved thus spake.

  “O pr430ogeny of Heav’n, empyreal Thrones,

  With reason hath deep silence and demur

  Seized us, though undismayed: long is the way432

  And hard, that out of Hell leads up to light;

  Our prison strong, this huge convex434 of fire,

  Outrageous to devour435, immures us round

  Ninefold, and gates of burning adamant436

  Barred over us prohibit all egress.

  These past, if any pass, the void profound438

  Of unessential439 night receives him next

  Wide gaping, and with utter loss of being

  Threatens him, plunged in that abortive441 gulf.

  If thence he scape into whatever world,

  Or unknown region, what remains443 him less

  Than unknown444 dangers and as hard escape.

  But I should ill become this throne, O Peers,

  And this imperial sov’reignty, adorned

  With splendor, armed with power, if aught proposed

  And judged of public moment448, in the shape

  Of difficulty or danger could deter

  Me from attempting. Wherefore do I assume

  These royalties, and not refuse to reign,

  Refusing452 to accept as great a share

  Of hazard as of honor, due alike

  To him who reigns, and so much to him due

  Of hazard more, as he above the rest

  High honored sits? Go therefore mighty Powers,

  Terror of Heav’n, though fall’n; intend at457 home,

  While here shall be our home, what best may ease

 

‹ Prev