The first, at least, of these I thought denied To beasts, whom God, on their creation-day, Created mute to all articulate sound: The latter I demur; for in their looks Much reason, & in their actions, oft appears. Thee, Serpent, subtlest beast of all the field I knew, but not with human voice endued; Redouble then this miracle, and say How camest thou speakable of mute; and how To me so friendly grown, above the rest Of brutal kind, that daily are in sight: Say, for such wonder claims attention due."
To whom the guileful tempter thus replied. "Empress of this fair world, resplendent Eve, Easy to me it is to tell thee all [obeyed. What thou commandst, & right thou shouldst be I was, at first, as other beasts that graze The trodden herb, of abject thoughts, and low As was my food; nor ought but food discern'd, Or sex, and apprehended nothing high: Till on a day, roving the field, I chanced A goodly tree, far distant, to behold. Loaden with fruit of fairest colours, mix'd Ruddy and gold: I nearer drew to gaze, When from the boughs a savoury odour blown, Grateful to appetite, more pleased my sense Than smell of sweetest fennel, or the teats Of ewe or goat, dropping with milk at even, Unsuck'd of lamb or kid, that tend their play, To satisfy the sharp desire I had Of tasting those fair apples, I resolved Not to defer; hunger and thirst at once, Powerful persuaders, quicken'd at the scent Of that alluring fruit, urged me so keen. About the mossy trunk I wound me soon; For, high from ground, the branches would require Thy utmost reach, or Adam's: round the tree, All other beasts that saw, with like desire, Longing & envying stood, but could not reach. Amid the tree now got, where plenty hung, Tempting so nigh, to pluck and eat my fill I spared not; for such pleasure, till that hour, At feed or fountain never had I found. Sated at length; ere long I might perceive Strange alteration in me, to degree Of reason, in my inward powers; & speech Wanted not long, tho' to this shape retain'd.
Thenceforth, to speculations high or deep I turn'd my thoughts, & with capacious mind, Consider'd all things visible in Heaven, Or earth, or middle, all things fair and good; But all that fair and good, in thy divine Semblance, & in thy beauty's heavenly ray, United I beheld; no fair to thine Equivalent, or second; which compell'd Me thus, though importune perhaps, to come And gaze, and worship thee, of right declar'd Sovereign of creatures, universal dame."
So talk'd the spirited sly Snake: and Eve, Yet more amazed, unwary thus replied. "Serpent, thy overpraising leaves in doubt The virtue of that fruit, in thee first proved:
But say, where grows the tree, from hence how far?
For many are the trees of God, that grow
In Paradise, and various, yet unknown To us; in such abundance lies our choice, As leaves a greater store of fruit untouch'd, Still hanging incorruptible, till men Grow up to their provision, and more hands Help to disburden nature of her birth."
To whom the wily Adder, blythe and glad. "Empress, the way is ready, and not long, Beyond a row of myrtles, on a flat, Fast by a fountain, one small thicket passed Of blowing myrrh and balm; if thou accept My conduct, I can bring thee thither soon." "Lead then," said Eve. He, leading, swiftly roll'd In tangles and made intricate seem straight, To mischief swift. Hope elevates, and joy Brightens his crest; as when a wandering fire, Compact of unctuous vapour, which the night Condenses, and the cold environs round, Kindled, through agitation, to a flame; Which oft, they say, some evil spirit attends, Hovering and blazing with delusive light, Misleads the amaz'd night-wanderer from his way, Through bogs & mires, & oft through pond or pool, There swallowed up and lost, from succour far: So glistered the dire Snake, and into fraud Led Eve, our credulous mother, to the tree Of prohibition, root of all our woe: Which when she saw, thus to her guide she spake. "Serpent, we might have spared our coming hither, Fruitless to me, though fruit be here to excess;
The credit of whose virtue rests with thee, Wonderous indeed, if cause of such effects. But of this tree we may not taste, nor touch; God so commanded; and left that command Sole daughter of his voice; the rest, we live Law to ourselves; our reason is our law." To whom the Tempter guilefully replied. "Indeed? hath God then said, of the fruit Of all these garden trees ye shall not eat, Yet Lords declared of all in earth or air?”
To whom thus Eve, yet sinless. "Of the fruit Of each tree in the garden we may eat; But of the fruit of this fair tree, amidst The garden, God hath said, 'Ye shall not eat Thereof, nor shall ye touch it, lest ye die.""
She scarce had said, though brief, when now more bold,
The Tempter, but with show of zeal and love To man, and indignation at his wrong, New part puts on; and as to passion moved, Fluctuates disturb'd, yet comely, and in act Raised, as of some great matter to begin. As when of old some orator renowned, In Athens or free Rome, where eloquence. Flourish'd, since mute, to some great cause address'd, Stood in himself collected; while each part, Motion, each act won audience ere the tongue, Sometimes in height began, as no delay Of preface brooking, through his zeal of right : So standing, moving, or to height upgrown, The Tempter, all impassion'd, thus began.
"O sacred, wise, and wisdom-giving Plant! Mother of science! now I feel thy power Within me clear, not only to discern Things in their causes, but to trace the ways Of highest agents, deem'd however wise. Queen of this universe, do not believe Those rigid threats of death: ye shall not die. How should ye? by the fruit? it gives you life To knowledge: by the threatener? look on me, Me, who have touch'd and tasted; yet both live, And life more perfect have attain'd than fate Meant me, by venturing higher than my lot. Shall that be shut to Man which to the Beast Is open? or will God incense his ire For such a petty trespass, and not praise Rather your dauntless virtue, whom the pain Of death denounced, whatever thing death be,
Deterr'd not from achieving what might lead To happier life, knowledge of good and evil? Of good, how just? of evil, if what is evil Be real, why not known, since easier shunn'd? God therefore cannot hurt ye, and be just: Not just, not God; not fear'd then, nor obey'd Your fear itself of death removes the fear. Why then was this forbid? Why, but to awe, Why, but to keep you low and ignorant, His worshippers. He knows that in the day You eat thereof, your eyes, that seem so clear, Yet are but dim, shall perfectly be then Open'd and clear'd; and ye shall be as gods, Knowing both good and evil, as they know. That ye shall be as gods, since I as man, Internal man, is but proportion meet; I of brute, human, ye of human, gods, So ye shall die, perhaps, by putting off Human, to put on gods; death to be wish'd,
Tho' threaten'd, which no worse than this can bring.
And what are gods, that man may not become As they, participating god-like food? The gods are first, and that advantage use, On our belief that all from them proceeds: I question it, for this fair earth I see, Warm'd by the sun, producing every kind, Them nothing if they all things, who enclosed Knowledge of good and evil in this tree, That whoso eats thereof, forthwith attains Wisdom without their leave? and wherein lies
The offence, that man should thus attain to know?
What can your knowledge hurt him, or this tree Impart against his will, if all be his? Or is it envy, and can envy dwell
In heavenly breasts? These, these, & many more Causes, import your need of this fair fruit. Goddess humane, reach then, and freely taste."
He ended, and his words, replete with guile, In to her heart too easy entrance won. Fix'd on the fruit she gazed, which to behold Might tempt alone; and in her ears the sound Yet rung of his persuasive words, impregn'd With reason, to her seeming, and with truth. Meanwhile the hour of noon drew on, & waked An eager appetite, raised by the smell So savoury of that fruit, which with desire, Inclinable now grown to touch or taste,
Solicited her longing eye; yet first, Pausing awhile, thus to herself she mused.
"Great are thy virtues, doubtless, best of fruits, Though kept from man, & worthy to be admired; Whose taste, too long forborne, at first essay, Gave elocution to the mute, and taught
The tongue, not made for speech, to speak thy praise : Thy praise He also, who forbids thy use, Conceals not from us, naming thee the tree
Of knowledge, knowledge both of good & evil: Forbids us then to taste; but his forbidding Commends thee more, while it infers the good By thee communicated, and our want: For good unknown, sure, is not had; or had, And yet unknown, is as not had at all. In plain then, what forbids he, but to know, Forbids us good, forbids us to be wise? Such prohibitions bind not. But if death Bind us with after-bands, what profits then Our inward freedom? In the day we eat Of this fair fruit, our doom is, we shall die. How dies the serpent? he hath eaten and lives, And knows, & speaks, & reasons, & discerns, Irrational till then. For us alone
Was death invented? or to us denied
This intellectual food, for beasts reserved?
For beasts it seems: yet that one beast, which first
Hath tasted, envies not, but brings with joy The good befallen him, author unsuspect, Friendly to man, far from deceit or guile. What fear I then? rather, what know to fear, Under this ignorance of good and evil, Of God or death, of law or penalty? Here grows the cure of all, this fruit divine, Fair to the eye, inviting to the taste, Of virtue to make wise: what hinders then To reach, and feed at once both body & mind?" So saying, her rash hand, in evil hour, Forth reaching to the fruit, she pluck'd, she eat: Earth felt the wound, & nature from her seat, Sighing through all her works, gave signs of woe, That all was lost. Back to the thicket slunk The guilty serpent; and well might, for Eve, Intent now wholly on her taste, nought else Regarded, such delight till then, as seem'd, In fruit she never tasted, whether true Or fancied so, through expectation high
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