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Paradise Lost

John Milton

Sanguin, such as Celestial Spirits may bleed, And all his Armour staind ere while so bright. Forthwith on all sides to his aide was run By Angels many and strong, who interpos’d Defence, while others bore him on thir Shields Back to his Chariot; where it stood retir’d From off the files of warr; there they him laid Gnashing for anguish and despite and shame To find himself not matchless, and his pride Humbl’d by such rebuke, so farr beneath His confidence to equal God in power. Yet soon he heal’d; for Spirits that live throughout Vital in every part, not as frail man In Entrailes, Heart or Head, Liver or Reines, Cannot but by annihilating die; Nor in thir liquid texture mortal wound Receive, no more then can the fluid Aire: All Heart they live, all Head, all Eye, all Eare, All Intellect, all Sense, and as they please, They Limb themselves, and colour, shape or size Assume, as likes them best, condense or rare. Mean while in other parts like deeds deservd Memorial, where the might of _Gabriel_ fought, And with fierce Ensignes pierc’d the deep array Of _Moloc_ furious King, who him defi’d, And at his Chariot wheeles to drag him bound Threatn’d, nor from the Holie One of Heav’n Refrein’d his tongue blasphemous; but anon Down clov’n to the waste, with shatterd Armes And uncouth paine fled bellowing. On each wing _Uriel_ and _Raphael_ his vaunting foe, Though huge, and in a Rock of Diamond Armd, Vanquish’d _Adramelec_, and _Asmadai_, Two potent Thrones, that to be less then Gods Disdain’d, but meaner thoughts learnd in thir flight, Mangl’d with gastly wounds through Plate and Maile. Nor stood unmindful _Abdiel_ to annoy The Atheist crew, but with redoubl’d blow _Ariel_ and _Arioc_, and the violence Of _Ramiel_ scorcht and blasted overthrew. I might relate of thousands, and thir names Eternize here on Earth; but those elect Angels contented with thir fame in Heav’n Seek not the praise of men: the other sort In might though wondrous and in Acts of Warr, Nor of Renown less eager, yet by doome Canceld from Heav’n and sacred memorie, Nameless in dark oblivion let them dwell. For strength from Truth divided and from Just, Illaudable, naught merits but dispraise And ignominie, yet to glorie aspires Vain glorious, and through infamie seeks fame: Therfore Eternal silence be thir doome. And now thir mightiest quelld, the battel swerv’d, With many an inrode gor’d; deformed rout Enter’d, and foul disorder; all the ground With shiverd armour strow’n, and on a heap Chariot and Charioter lay overturnd And fierie foaming Steeds; what stood, recoyld Orewearied, through the faint Satanic Host Defensive scarse, or with pale fear surpris’d, Then first with fear surpris’d and sense of paine Fled ignominious, to such evil brought By sinne of disobedience, till that hour Not liable to fear or flight or paine. Far otherwise th’ inviolable Saints In Cubic Phalanx firm advanc’t entire, Invulnerable, impenitrably arm’d: Such high advantages thir innocence Gave them above thir foes, not to have sinnd, Not to have disobei’d; in fight they stood Unwearied, unobnoxious to be pain’d By wound, though from thir place by violence mov’d. Now Night her course began, and over Heav’n Inducing darkness, grateful truce impos’d, And silence on the odious dinn of Warr: Under her Cloudie covert both retir’d, Victor and Vanquisht: on the foughten field _Michael_ and his Angels prevalent Encamping, plac’d in Guard thir Watches round, Cherubic waving fires: on th’ other part _Satan_ with his rebellious disappeerd, Far in the dark dislodg’d, and void of rest, His Potentates to Councel call’d by night; And in the midst thus undismai’d began. O now in danger tri’d, now known in Armes Not to be overpowerd, Companions deare, Found worthy not of Libertie alone, Too mean pretense, but what we more affect, Honour, Dominion, Glorie, and renowne, Who have sustaind one day in doubtful fight, (And if one day, why not Eternal dayes?) What Heavens Lord had powerfullest to send Against us from about his Throne, and judg’d Sufficient to subdue us to his will, But proves not so: then fallible, it seems, Of future we may deem him, though till now Omniscient thought. True is, less firmly arm’d, Some disadvantage we endur’d and paine, Till now not known, but known as soon contemnd, Since now we find this our Empyreal forme Incapable of mortal injurie Imperishable, and though peirc’d with wound, Soon closing, and by native vigour heal’d. Of evil then so small as easie think The remedie; perhaps more valid Armes, Weapons more violent, when next we meet, May serve to better us, and worse our foes, Or equal what between us made the odds, In Nature none: if other hidden cause Left them Superiour, while we can preserve Unhurt our mindes, and understanding sound, Due search and consultation will disclose. He sat; and in th’ assembly next upstood _Nisroc_, of Principalities the prime; As one he stood escap’t from cruel fight, Sore toild, his riv’n Armes to havoc hewn, And cloudie in aspect thus answering spake. Deliverer from new Lords, leader to free Enjoyment of our right as Gods; yet hard For Gods, and too unequal work we find Against unequal armes to fight in paine, Against unpaind, impassive; from which evil Ruin must needs ensue; for what availes Valour or strength, though matchless, quelld with pain Which all subdues, and makes remiss the hands Of Mightiest. Sense of pleasure we may well Spare out of life perhaps, and not repine, But live content, which is the calmest life: But pain is perfet miserie, the worst Of evils, and excessive, overturnes All patience. He who therefore can invent With what more forcible we may offend Our yet unwounded Enemies, or arme Our selves with like defence, to mee deserves No less then for deliverance what we owe. Whereto with look compos’d _Satan_ repli’d. Not uninvented that, which thou aright Beleivst so main to our success, I bring; Which of us who beholds the bright surface Of this Ethereous mould whereon we stand, This continent of spacious Heav’n, adornd With Plant, Fruit, Flour Ambrosial, Gemms & Gold, Whose Eye so superficially surveyes These things, as not to mind from whence they grow Deep under ground, materials dark and crude, Of spiritous and fierie spume, till toucht With Heav’ns ray, and temperd they shoot forth So beauteous, op’ning to the ambient light. These in thir dark Nativitie the Deep Shall yeild us, pregnant with infernal flame, Which into hallow Engins long and round Thick-rammd, at th’ other bore with touch of fire Dilated and infuriate shall send forth From far with thundring noise among our foes Such implements of mischief as shall dash To pieces, and orewhelm whatever stands Adverse, that they shall fear we have disarmd The Thunderer of his only dreaded bolt. Nor long shall be our labour, yet ere dawne, Effect shall end our wish. Mean while revive; Abandon fear; to strength and counsel joind Think nothing hard, much less to be despaird. He ended, and his words thir drooping chere Enlightn’d, and thir languisht hope reviv’d. Th’ invention all admir’d, and each, how hee To be th’ inventer miss’d, so easie it seemd Once found, which yet unfound most would have thought Impossible: yet haply of thy Race In future dayes, if Malice should abound, Some one intent on mischief, or inspir’d With dev’lish machination might devise Like instrument to plague the Sons of men For sin, on warr and mutual slaughter bent. Forthwith from Councel to the work they flew, None arguing stood, innumerable hands Were ready, in a moment up they turnd Wide the Celestial soile, and saw beneath Th’ originals of Nature in thir crude Conception; Sulphurous and Nitrous Foame They found, they mingl’d, and with suttle Art, Concocted and adusted they reduc’d To blackest grain, and into store conveyd: Part hidd’n veins diggd up (nor hath this Earth Entrails unlike) of Mineral and Stone, Whereof to found thir Engins and thir Balls Of missive ruin; part incentive reed Provide, pernicious with one touch to fire. So all ere day spring, under conscious Night Secret they finish’d, and in order set, With silent circumspection unespi’d. Now when fair Morn Orient in Heav’n appeerd Up rose the Victor Angels, and to Arms The matin Trumpet Sung: in Arms they stood Of Golden Panoplie, refulgent Host, Soon banded; others from the dawning Hills Lookd round, and Scouts each Coast light-armed scoure, Each quarter, to descrie the distant foe, Where lodg’d, or whither fled, or if for fight, In motion or in alt: him soon they met Under spred Ensignes moving nigh, in slow But firm Battalion; back with speediest Sail _Zephiel_, of Cherubim the swiftest wing, Came flying, and in mid Aire aloud thus cri’d. Arme, Warriours, Arme for fight, the foe at hand, Whom fled we thought, will save us long pursuit This day, fear not his flight; so thick a Cloud He comes, and settl’d in his face I see Sad resolution and secure: let each His Adamantine coat gird well, and each Fit well his Helme, gripe fast his orbed Shield, Born eevn or high, for this day will pour down, If I conjecture aught, no drizling showr, But ratling storm of Arrows barbd with fire. So warnd he them aware themselves, and soon In order, quit of all impediment; Instant without disturb they took Allarm, And onward move Embattelld; when behold Not distant far with heavie pace the Foe Approaching gross and huge; in hollow Cube Training his devilish Enginrie, impal’d On every side with shaddowing Squadrons Deep, To hide the fraud. At interview both stood A while, but suddenly at head appeerd _Satan_: And thus was heard Commanding loud. Vangard, to Right and Left the Front unfould; That all may see who hate us, how we seek Peace and composure, and with open brest Stand readie to receive them, if they like Our overture, and turn not back perverse; But that I doubt, however witness Heaven, Heav’n witness thou anon, while we discharge Freely our part: yee who appointed stand Do as you have in charge, and briefly touch What we propound, and loud that all may hear. So scoffing in ambiguous words, he scarce Had ended; when to Right and Left the Front Divided, and to either Flank retir’d. Which to our eyes discoverd new and strange, A triple-mounted row of Pillars laid On Wheels (for like to Pillars most they seem’d Or hollow’d bodies made of Oak or Firr With branches lopt, in Wood or Mountain fell’d) Brass, Iron, Stonie mould, had not thir mouthes With hideous orifice gap’t on us wide, Portending hollow truce; at each behind A Seraph stood, and in his hand a Reed Stood waving tipt with fire; while we suspense, Collected stood within our thoughts amus’d, Not long, for sudden all at once thir Reeds Put forth, and to a narrow vent appli’d With nicest touch. Immediate in a flame, But soon obscur’d with smoak, all Heav’n appeerd, From those deep-throated Engins belcht, whose roar Emboweld with outragious noise the Air, And all her entrails tore, disgorging foule Thir devillish glut, chaind Thunderbolts and Hail Of Iron Globes, which on the Victor Host Level’d, with such impetuous furie smote, That whom they hit, none on thir feet might stand, Though standing else as Rocks, but down they fell By thousands, Angel on Arch-Angel rowl’d; The sooner for thir Arms, unarm’d they might Have easily as Spirits evaded swift By quick contraction or remove; but now Foule dissipation follow’d and forc’t rout; Nor serv’d it to relax thir serried files. What should they do? if on they rusht, repulse Repeated, and indecent overthrow Doubl’d, would render them yet more despis’d, And to thir foes a laughter; for in view Stood rankt of Seraphim another row In posture to displode thir second tire