Had bred; then purged with euphrasy and rue
The visual nerve, for he had much to see;
And from the well of life three drops instill'd.
So deep the power of these ingredients pierced
E'en to the inmost seat of mental sight,
That Adam, now enforced to close his eyes,
Sunk down, & all his spirits became entranced:
But him the gentle Angel by the hand
Soon raised, and his attention thus recall'd.
"Adam, now ope thine eyes; and first, behold
The effects, which thy original crime hath wrought
In
some, to spring from thee, who never touch'd
The excepted tree, nor with the snake conspir'd,
Nor sinn'd thy sin; yet from that sin derive
Corruption, to bring forth more violent deeds.'

His eyes he open'd, and beheld a field, Part arable and tilth, whereon where sheaves New reap'd; the other part sheepwalks & folds; In the midst an altar, as the landmark, stood, Rustic, of grassy sod: thither anon A sweaty reaper, from his tillage, brought First fruits, the green ear, and the yellow sheaf, Uncull'd, as came to hand; a shepherd next, More meek, came with the firstlings of his flock, Choicest and best; then sacrificing, laid The inwards and their fat, with incense strow'd, On the cleft wood, and all due rites perform'd. His offering soon propitious fire from Heaven Consumed with nimble glance, & grateful steam: The other's not; for his was not sincere; Whereat he inly raged; and, as they talk'd, Smote him into the midriff with a stone That beat out life; he fell and, deadly pale, Groan'd out his soul, with gushing blood effused. Much, at the sight, was Adam in his heart Dismay'd, & thus in haste to the Angel cried.

"O teacher, some great mischief hath befallen To that meek man, who well had sacrificed; Is piety thus, and pure devotion, paid?"

To whom Michael thus, he also moved, replied. "These two are brethren, Adam, and to come Out of thy loins; the unjust the just hath slain, For envy that his brother's offering found From Heaven acceptance: but the bloody fact Will be avenged, and the other's faith, approved, Lose no reward, though here thou see him die, Rolling in dust and gore." To which our sire.

"Alas! both for the deed and for the cause! But have I now seen death? Is this the way, I must return to native dust? O sight Of terror, foul and ugly to behold, Horrid to think, how horrible to feel!" To whom thus Michael. "Death thou hast seen, In his first shape, on man: but many shapes Of death, and many are the ways that lead To his grim cave, all dismal; yet, to sense, More terrible at the entrance than within. Some, as thou saw'st, by violent stroke shall die, By fire, flood, famine, by intemperance more In meats & drinks, which on the earth shall bring Diseases dire, of which a monstrous crew Before thee shall appear; that thou mayst know What misery the inabstinence of Eve Shall bring on men. Immediately a place Before his eyes appear'd, sad, noisome, dark, A lazar-house it seem'd, wherein were laid Numbers of all diseased; all maladies Of ghastly spasm, or racking torture, qualms Of heart-sick agony, all feverous kinds, Convulsions, epilepsies, fierce catarrhs, Intestine stone and ulcer, cholic pangs, Demoniac frenzy, moping melancholy, And moon-struck madness, pining atrophy, Merasmus, and wide-wasting pestilence, Dropsies, & asthmas, & joint-racking rheums. Dire was the tossing, deep the groans; Despair Tended the sick, busiest from couch to couch; And over them triumphant Death his dart Shook; but delay'd to strike, though oft invok'd With vows, as their chief good, and final hope. Sight so deform, what heart of rock could long Dry-eyed behold? Adam could not; but wept, Though not of woman born: compassion quell'd His best of man, and gave him up to tears space, till firmer thoughts restrain'd excess; And, scarce recovering words, his plaint renew'd. "O miserable mankind, to what fall Degraded, to what wretched state reserved! Better end here, unborn. Why is life given, To be thus wrested from us? rather, why Obtruded on us thus? who, if we knew What we receive would either not accept Life offer'd, or soon beg to lay it down; Glad to be so dismiss'd in peace. Can thus

A

The image of God, in man created once
So goodly and erect, though faulty since,
To such unsightly sufferings be debased
Under inhuman pains? why should not man,
Retaining still divine similitude

In part, from such deformities be free,
And for his Maker's image-sake exempt?"

"Their Maker's image," answer'd Michael," then
Forsook them, when themselves they vilified,
To serve ungovern'd appetite, and took
His image whom they serv'd, a brutish vice,
Inductive mainly to the sin of Eve.
Therefore so abject is their punishment,
Disfiguring not God's likeness, but their own;
Or if his likeness, by themselves defaced,
While they pervert pure nature's healthful rules
To loathsome sickness; worthily, since they
God's image did not reverence in themselves."
"I yield it just," said Adam, "and submit.
But is there yet no other way besides
These painful passages, how we may come
To death, and mix with our connatural dust ?"

"There is," said Michael, “if thou well observe
The rule of not too much, by temperance taught
In what thou eatest and drinkest, seeking from
Due nourishment, no gluttonous delight [thence
Till many years over thy head return: [drop
So mayest thou live, till, like ripe fruit, thou
Into thy mother's lap, or be with ease
Gather'd, not harshly pluck'd, for death mature:
This is old age; but then thou must outlive
Thy youth, thy strength, thy beauty, which will change
To wither'd, weak, and gray; thy senses, then
Obtuse, all taste of pleasure must forego,
To what thou hast; and for the air of youth,
Hopeful and cheerful, in thy blood will reign
A melancholy damp of cold and dry,

To weigh thy spirits down; and last, consume
The balm of life." To whom our ancestor.

"Henceforth I fly not death, nor would prolong
Life much; bent rather how I may be quit,
Fairest and easiest, of this cumbrous charge;
Which I must keep, till my appointed day
Of rendering up, and patiently attend
My dissolution.' Michael replied. [livest,
"Nor love thy life, nor hate; but what thou
Live well; how long, or short, permit to Heaven:

And now prepare thee for another sight."
He look'd, and saw a spacious plain, whereon
Were tents of various hue; by some were herds
Of cattle grazing; others whence the sound
Of instruments, that made melodious chime,
Was heard, of harp and organ, and who moved
Their stops & chords, were seen; his volant touch,
Instinct, through all proportions low and high,
Fled and pursued transverse the resonant fugue.
In other part stood one, who, at the forge
Labouring, two massy clods of iron and brass
Had melted; whether found, where casual fire
Had wasted woods on mountain or in vale,
Down to the veins of earth, thence gliding hot
To some cave's mouth; or whether wash'd by stream
From under ground, the liquid ore he drain'd
Into fit moulds prepared: from which he form'd,
First, his own tools; then, what might else be
Fusil, or graven in metal. After these, [wrought,
But on the hither side, a different sort [seat,
From the high neighbouring hills, which was their
Down to the plain descended: by their guise
Just men they seem'd, and all their study bent
To worship God aright, and know his works
Not hid, nor those things last which might preserve
Freedom and peace to men; they on the plain
Long had not walk'd, when from the tents, behold
A bevy of fair women richly gay

In gems & wanton dress; to the harp they sung
Soft amorous ditties, and in dance came on;
The men, though grave, eyed them, and let their
Rove without rein, till in the amorous net [eyes
Fast caught, they liked, and each his liking chose :
And now of love they treat, till the evening star,
Love's harbinger, appear'd; then, all in heat,
They light the nuptial torch, and bid invoke
Hymen, then first to marriage rites invoked:
With feast and music all the tents resound.
Such happy interview, and fair event,
Of love & youth not lost, songs, garlands, flowers,
And charming symphonies, attach'd the heart
Of Adam, soon inclined to admit delight,
The bent of nature; which he thus expressed.
"True opener of mine eyes, prime Angel bless'd,
Much better seems this vision, and more hope
Of peaceful days portends, than those two past;
Those were of hate, & death, or pain, much worse,

Here nature seems fulfill'd in all her ends."

To whom thus Michael. "Judge not what is best
By pleasure, though to nature seeming meet,
Created, as thou art, to nobler end,
Holy and pure, conformity divine.

Those tents thou saw'st so pleasant, were the tents
Of wickedness, wherein shall dwell his race
Who slew his brother; studious they appear
Of arts that polish life, inventors rare,
Unmindful of their Maker, though his Spirit
Taught them; but they his gifts acknowledg'd none.
Yet they a beauteous offspring shall beget;
For that fair female troop thou saw'st, that seem'd
Of goddesses, so blithe, so smooth, so gay,
Yet empty of all good wherein consists
Woman's domestic honour and chief praise;
Bred only and completed to the taste
Of lustful appetance; to sing, to dance,
To dress, & troll the tongue, & roll the eye.
To these, that sober race of men, whose lives
Religious, titled them the sons of God,
Shall yield up all their virtue, all their fame,
Ignobly, to the trains and to the smiles
Of these fair atheists, and now swim in joy,
Ere long to swim at large; and laugh, for which
The world ere long a world of tears must weep."

To whom thus Adam, of short. joy bereft.
"O pity & shame, that they, who to live well
Enter'd so fair should turn aside to tread
Paths indirect, or in the midway faint!
But still I see the tenor of man's wo
Hold on the same, from woman to begin."

"From man's effeminate slackness it begins," Said the Angel," who should better hold his place, By wisdom, and superior gifts received. But now prepare thee for another scene."

He look'd, and saw wide territory spread Before him, towns, and rural works between, Cities of men, with lofty gates and towers, Concourse in arms, fierce faces threatening war, Giants of mighty bone, and bold emprise; Part wield their arms, part curb the foaming steed, Single, or in array of battle ranged, Both horse and foot: nor idly mustering stood: One way a band select from forage drives A herd of beeves, fair oxen and fair kine, From a fat meadow ground; or fleecy flock