Paradise Lost
Mistrust, Suspicion, Discord, and shook sore
Thir inward State of Mind, calme Region once
And full of Peace, now tost and turbulent:
For Understanding rul’d not, and the Will
Heard not her lore, both in subjection now
To sensual Appetite, who from beneathe
Usurping over sovran Reason claimd
Superior sway: From thus distemperd brest,
_Adam_, estrang’d in look and alterd stile,
Speech intermitted thus to _Eve_ renewd.
Would thou hadst heark’nd to my words, & stai’d
With me, as I besought thee, when that strange
Desire of wandring this unhappie Morn,
I know not whence possessd thee; we had then
Remaind still happie, not as now, despoild
Of all our good, sham’d, naked, miserable.
Let none henceforth seek needless cause to approve
The Faith they owe; when earnestly they seek
Such proof, conclude, they then begin to faile.
To whom soon mov’d with touch of blame thus _Eve_.
What words have past thy Lips, _Adam_ severe,
Imput’st thou that to my default, or will
Of wandering, as thou call’st it, which who knows
But might as ill have happ’nd thou being by,
Or to thy self perhaps: hadst thou bin there,
Or bere th’ attempt, thou couldst not have discernd
Fraud in the Serpent, speaking as he spake;
No ground of enmitie between us known,
Why hee should mean me ill, or seek to harme.
Was I to have never parted from thy side?
As good have grown there still a liveless Rib.
Being as I am, why didst not thou the Head
Command me absolutely not to go,
Going into such danger as thou saidst?
Too facil then thou didst not much gainsay,
Nay, didst permit, approve, and fair dismiss.
Hadst thou bin firm and fixt in thy dissent,
Neither had I transgress’d, nor thou with mee.
To whom then first incenst _Adam_ repli’d.
Is this the Love, is the recompence
Of mine to thee, ingrateful _Eve_, exprest
Immutable when thou wert lost, not I,
Who might have liv’d and joyd immortal bliss,
Yet willingly chose rather Death with thee:
And am I now upbraided, as the cause
Of thy transgressing? not enough severe,
It seems, in thy restraint: what could I more?
I warn’d thee, I admonish’d thee, foretold
The danger, and the lurking Enemie
That lay in wait; beyond this had bin force,
And force upon free Will hath here no place.
But confidence then bore thee on, secure
Either to meet no danger, or to finde
Matter of glorious trial; and perhaps
I also err’d in overmuch admiring
What seemd in thee so perfet, that I thought
No evil durst attempt thee, but I rue
That errour now, which is become my crime,
And thou th’ accuser. Thus it shall befall
Him who to worth in Women overtrusting
Lets her Will rule; restraint she will not brook,
And left to her self, if evil thence ensue,
Shee first his weak indulgence will accuse.
Thus they in mutual accusation spent
The fruitless hours, but neither self-condemning
And of thir vain contest appeer’d no end.
THE END OF THE EIGHTH BOOK.
PARADISE LOST
BOOK IX.
Meanwhile the hainous and despightfull act
Of _Satan_ done in Paradise, and how
Hee in the Serpent had perverted _Eve_,
Her Husband shee, to taste the fatall fruit,
Was known in Heav’n; for what can scape the Eye
Of God All-seeing, or deceave his Heart
Omniscient, who in all things wise and just,
Hinder’d not _Satan_ to attempt the minde
Of Man, with strength entire, and free Will arm’d,
Complete to have discover’d and repulst
Whatever wiles of Foe or seeming Friend.
For still they knew, and ought to have still remember’d
The high Injunction not to taste that Fruit,
Whoever tempted; which they not obeying,
Incurr’d, what could they less, the penaltie,
And manifold in sin, deserv’d to fall.
Up into Heav’n from Paradise in hast
Th’ Angelic Guards ascended, mute and sad
For Man, for of his state by this they knew,
Much wondring how the suttle Fiend had stoln
Entrance unseen. Soon as th’ unwelcome news
From Earth arriv’d at Heaven Gate, displeas’d
All were who heard, dim sadness did not spare
That time Celestial visages, yet mixt
With pitie, violated not thir bliss.
About the new-arriv’d, in multitudes
Th’ ethereal People ran, to hear and know
How all befell: they towards the Throne Supream
Accountable made haste to make appear
With righteous plea, thir utmost vigilance,
And easily approv’d; when the most High
Eternal Father from his secret Cloud,
Amidst in Thunder utter’d thus his voice.
Assembl’d Angels, and ye Powers return’d
From unsuccessful charge, be not dismaid,
Nor troubl’d at these tidings from the Earth,
Which your sincerest care could not prevent,
Foretold so lately what would come to pass,
When first this Tempter cross’d the Gulf from Hell.
I told ye then he should prevail and speed
On his bad Errand, Man should be seduc’t
And flatter’d out of all, believing lies
Against his Maker; no Decree of mine
Concurring to necessitate his Fall,
Or touch with lightest moment of impulse
His free Will, to her own inclining left
In eevn scale. But fall’n he is, and now
What rests, but that the mortal Sentence pass
On his transgression, Death denounc’t that day,
Which he presumes already vain and void,
Because not yet inflicted, as he fear’d,
By some immediate stroak; but soon shall find
Forbearance no acquittance ere day end.
Justice shall not return as bountie scorn’d.
But whom send I to judge them? whom but thee
Vicegerent Son, to thee I have transferr’d
All Judgement, whether in Heav’n, or Earth; or Hell.
Easie it may be seen that I intend
Mercie collegue with Justice, sending thee
Mans Friend, his Mediator, his design’d
Both Ransom and Redeemer voluntarie,
And destin’d Man himself to judge Man fall’n.
So spake the Father, and unfoulding bright
Toward the right hand his Glorie, on the Son
Blaz’d forth unclouded Deitie; he full
Resplendent all his Father manifest
Express’d, and thus divinely answer’d milde.
Father Eternal, thine is to decree,
Mine both in Heav’n and Earth to do thy will
Supream, that thou in mee thy Son belov’d
Mayst ever rest well pleas’d. I go to judge
On Earth these thy transgressors, but thou knowst,
Whoever judg’d, the worst on mee must light,
When time shall be, for so I undertook
Before thee; and not repenting, this obtaine
Of right, that I may mitigate thir doom
On me deriv’d, yet I shall temper so
Justice with Mercie, as may illustrate most
Them fully satisfied, and thee appease.
Attendance none shall need, nor Train, where none
Are to behold the Judgement, but the judg’d,
Those two; the third best absent is condemn’d,
Convict by flight, and Rebel to all Law
Conviction to the Serpent none belongs.
Thus saying, from his radiant Seat he rose
Of high collateral glorie: him Thrones and Powers,
Princedoms, and Dominations ministrant
Accompanied to Heaven Gate, from whence
_Eden_ and all the Coast in prospect lay.
Down he descended strait; the speed of Gods
Time counts not, though with swiftest minutes wing’d.
Now was the Sun in Western cadence low
From Noon, and gentle Aires due at thir hour
To fan the Earth now wak’d, and usher in
The Eevning coole when he from wrauth more coole
Came the mild Judge and Intercessor both
To sentence Man: the voice of God they heard
Now walking in the Garden, by soft windes
Brought to thir Ears, while day declin’d, they heard
And from his presence hid themselves among
The thickest Trees, both Man and Wife, till God
Approaching, thus to _Adam_ call’d aloud.
Where art thou _Adam_, wont with joy to meet
My coming seen far off? I miss thee here,
Not pleas’d, thus entertaind with solitude,
Where obvious dutie erewhile appear’d unsaught:
Or come I less conspicuous, or what change
Absents thee, or what chance detains? Come forth.
He came, and with him _Eve_, more loth, though first
To offend, discount’nanc’t both, and discompos’d;
Love was not in thir looks, either to God
Or to each other, but apparent guilt,
And shame, and perturbation, and despaire,
Anger, and obstinacie, and hate, and guile.
Whence _Adam_ faultring long, thus answer’d brief.
I heard thee in the Garden, and of thy voice
Affraid, being naked, hid my self. To whom
The gracious Judge without revile repli’d.
My voice thou oft hast heard, and hast not fear’d,
But still rejoyc’t, how is it now become
So dreadful to thee? that thou art naked, who
Hath told thee? hast thou eaten of the Tree
Whereof I gave thee charge thou shouldst not eat?
To whom thus _Adam_ sore beset repli’d.
O Heav’n! in evil strait this day I stand
Before my Judge, either to undergoe
My self the total Crime, or to accuse
My other self, the partner of my life;
Whose failing, while her Faith to me remaines,
I should conceal, and not expose to blame
By my complaint; but strict necessitie
Subdues me, and calamitous constraint,
Least on my head both sin and punishment,
However insupportable, be all
Devolv’d; though should I hold my peace, yet thou
Wouldst easily detect what I conceale.
This Woman whom thou mad’st to be my help,
And gav’st me as thy perfet gift, so good,
So fit, so acceptable, so Divine,
That from her hand I could suspect no ill,
And what she did, whatever in it self,
Her doing seem’d to justifie the deed;
Shee gave me of the Tree, and I did eate.
To whom the sovran Presence thus repli’d.
Was shee thy God, that her thou didst obey
Before his voice, or was shee made thy guide,
Superior, or but equal, that to her
Thou did’st resigne thy Manhood, and the Place
Wherein God set thee above her made of thee,
And for thee, whose perfection farr excell’d
Hers in all real dignitie: Adornd
She was indeed, and lovely to attract
Thy Love, not thy Subjection, and her Gifts
Were such as under Government well seem’d,
Unseemly to beare rule, which was thy part
And person, had’st thou known thy self aright.
So having said, he thus to _Eve_ in few:
Say Woman, what is this which thou hast done?
To whom sad _Eve_ with shame nigh overwhelm’d,
Confessing soon, yet not before her Judge
Bold or loquacious, thus abasht repli’d.
The Serpent me beguil’d and I did eate.
Which when the Lord God heard, without delay
To Judgement he proceeded on th’ accus’d
Serpent though brute, unable to transferre
The Guilt on him who made him instrument
Of mischief, and polluted from the end
Of his Creation; justly then accurst,
As vitiated in Nature: more to know
Concern’d not Man (since he no further knew)
Nor alter’d his offence; yet God at last
To Satan first in sin his doom apply’d,
Though in mysterious terms, judg’d as then best:
And on the Serpent thus his curse let fall.
Because thou hast done this, thou art accurst
Above all Cattel, each Beast of the Field;
Upon thy Belly groveling thou shalt goe,
And dust shalt eat all the days of thy Life.
Between Thee and the Woman I will put
Enmitie, and between thine and her Seed;
Her Seed shall bruise thy head, thou bruise his heel.
So spake this Oracle, then verifi’d
When _Jesus_ son of _Mary_ second _Eve_,
Saw Satan fall like Lightning down from Heav’n,
Prince of the Aire; then rising from his Grave
Spoild Principalities and Powers, triumpht
In open shew, and with ascention bright
Captivity led captive through the Aire,
The Realme it self of Satan long usurpt,
Whom he shall tread at last under our feet;
Eevn hee who now foretold his fatal bruise,
And to the Woman thus his Sentence turn’d.
Thy sorrow I will greatly multiplie
By thy Conception; Children thou shalt bring
In sorrow forth, and to thy Husbands will
Thine shall submit, hee over thee shall rule.
On _Adam_ last thus judgement he pronounc’d.
Because thou hast heark’nd to the voice of thy Wife,
And eaten of the Tree concerning which
I charg’d thee, saying: Thou shalt not eate thereof,
Curs’d is the ground for thy sake, thou in sorrow
Shalt eate thereof all the days of thy Life;
Thornes also and Thistles it shall bring thee forth