In vain, though, by their powerful art, they bind
Volatile Hermes, and call up unbound,
In various shapes, old Proteus from the sea,
Drain'd through a limbec to his native form.
What wonder then, if fields and regions here
Breathe forth elixir pure, and rivers run
Potable gold, when, with one virtuous touch,
The arch-chemic sun, so far from us remote,
Produces, with terrestrial humour mix'd,
Here in the dark, so many precious things,
Of colour glorious, and effect so rare?
Here, matter new to gaze the Devil met,
Undazzled far and wide his eye commands;
For sight no obstacle found here, nor shade,
But all sunshine: as when his beams at noon
Culminate from the equator; as they now
Shot upward, still direct, whence no way round,
Shadow from body opaque can fall; and the air
No where so clear, sharpen'd his visual ray,
To objects distant far; whereby he soon
Saw within ken, a glorious angel stand,
The same, whom John saw also in the sun.
His back was turn'd, but not his brightness hid :
Of beaming sunny rays, a golden tiar
Circled his head; nor less his locks behind,
Illustrious on his shoulders, fledge with wings,
Lay waving round: on some great charge employ'd
He seem'd, or fix'd in cogitation deep.
Glad was the Spirit impure; as now in hope
To find, who might direct his wandering flight
To Paradise, the happy seat of man,
His journey's end, and our beginning woe.
But first he casts to change his proper shape,
Which else might work him danger or delay:
And now, a stripling-cherub he appears,
Not of the prime, yet such, as in his face
Youth smiled celestial, and, to every limb,
Suitable grace diffused; so well he feign'd.
Under a coronet, his flowing hair,
In curls on either cheek, play'd; wings he wore,
Of many a colour'd plume, sprinkled with gold;
His habit fit for speed succinct, and held
Before his decent steps, a silver wand.
He drew not nigh unheard; the angel bright,
Ere he drew nigh, his radiant visage turn'd,
Admonish'd by his ear; and straight was known
The arch-angel Uriel, one of the seven
Who in God's presence, nearest to his throne,
Stand ready at command; and are his eyes,
That run through all the Heavens, or, down to the
Bear his swift errands, over moist and dry, [Earth
O'er sea and land: him Satan thus accosts.
"Uriel, for thou, of those seven Spirits, that stand
In sight of God's high throne, gloriously bright,
The first art wont his great authentic will,
Interpreter through highest Heaven, to bring,
Where all his sons thy embassy attend;
And here art likeliest, by supreme decree,
Like honour to obtain, and, as his eye,
To visit oft this new creation round.
Unspeakable desire to see, and know,
All these his wondrous works, but chiefly man,
His chief delight and favour, him, for whom
All these his works so wondrous he ordain'd,
Hath brought me from the quires of cherubim,
Alone, thus wandering. Brightest seraph, tell,
In which of all these shining orbs hath man
His fixed seat, or fixed seat hath none,
But all these shining orbs his choice to dwell;
That I may find him, and with secret gaze,
Or open admiration, him behold,
On whom the great Creator hath bestow'd
Worlds, and on whom hath all these graces pour'd ;
That both in him, and all things, as is meet,
The universal Maker we may praise;
Who justly hath driven out his rebel foes,
To deepest Hell; and, to repair that loss,
Created this new happy race of men,
To serve him better: wise are all his ways!"
So spake the false dissembler unperceived;
For neither man nor angel can discern
Hypocrisy, the only evil that walks
Invisible, except to God alone,
By his permissive will, through heaven and earth:
And oft, though wisdom wake, suspicion sleeps
At wisdom's gate, and to simplicity
Resigns her charge, while goodness thinks no ill,
Where no ill seems: which now, for once, beguiled,
Uriel, though regent of the sun, and held
The sharpest-sighted spirit of all in heaven;
Who, to the fraudulent impostor foul,
In his uprightness, answer thus return'd:
"Fair angel! thy desire, which tends to know
The works of God, thereby to glorify
The great Work-Master, leads to no excess,
That reaches blame, but rather merits praise,
The more it seems excess, that led thee hither,
From thy empyreal mansion, thus alone;
To witness with thine eyes, what some perhaps
Contented with report, hear only in heaven:
For wonderful indeed are all his works,
Pleasant to know, and worthiest to be all
Had in remembrance, always with delight.
But what created mind can comprehend
Their number, or the wisdom infinite
That brought them forth, but hid their causes deep?
I saw, when at his word, the formless mass,
This world's material mold, came to a heap.
Confusion heard his voice, and wild uproar
Stood ruled; stood vast infinitude confined:
Till, at his second bidding, darkness fled,
Light shone, and order from disorder sprung.
Swift, to their several quarters, hasted then
The cumbrous elements, earth, flood, air, fire;
And this etherial quintessence of heaven
Flew upward, spirited with various forms,
That roll'd orbicular, and turn'd to stars
Numberless, as thou seest, and how they move;
Each had his place appointed, each his course:
The rest in circuit walls this universe.
Look downward on that globe, whose hither side,
With light froin hence, though but reflected, shines;
That place is earth, the seat of man; that light
His day; which else, as the other hemisphere,
Night would invade: but there the neighbouring
So call that opposite fair star her aid [moon,
Timely interposes; and her monthly round
Still ending, still renewing through mid Heaven,
With borrow'd light, her countenance triform,
Hence fills and empties, to enlighten the earth;
And, in her pale dominion, checks the night.
That spot, to which I point, is Paradise,
Adam's abode; those lofty shades, his bower.
Thy way thou canst not miss, me mine requires."
Thus said, he turn'd; and Satan, bowing low,
As to superior spirits is wont in Heaven,
Where honour due and reverence none neglects,
Took leave; and, toward the coast of earth beneath,
Down from the ecliptic, sped with hoped success,
Throws his steep flight in many an airy wheel,
Nor staid, till on Niphates top he lights.
Satan, now in prospect of Eden, and nigh the place where he must now attempt the bold enterprise which he undertook alone, against God and man, falls into many doubts with himself, and many passions, fear, envy, and despair: but at length confirms himself in evil; journeys on to Paradise, whose outward prospect and situation are described; overleaps the bounds; sits in the shape of a cormorant on the tree of life, as highest in the garden, to look about him. The garden described: Satan's first sight of Adam and Eve; his wonder at their excellent form and happy state, but with resolution to work their fall; overhears their discourse, thence gathers that the tree of knowledge was forbidden them to eat of, under penalty of death; and thereon intends to found his temptation by seducing them to transgress: then leaves them a while to know further of their state by some other means. Meanwhile Uriel, descending on a sunbeam, warns Gabriel, who had in charge the gate of Paradise, that some evil spirit had escaped the deep, and passed at noon by his sphere in the shape of a good angel down to Paradise, discovered after by his furious gestures on the mount. Gabriel promises to find him ere morning. Night coming on, Adam and Eve discourse of going to their rest; their bower described; their evening-worship. Gabriel, drawing forth his bands of night-watch to walk the round of Paradise, appoints two strong angels to Adam's bower, lest the evil spirit should be there doing some harm to Adam or Eve sleeping, there they find him at the ear of Eve, tempting her in a dream, and bring him, though unwilling, to Gabriel: by whom questioned, he scornfully answers; prepares resistance: but, hindered by a sign from heaven, flies out of Paradise.
|