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Book the fourth.
THE ARGUMENT. Satan, now in prospect of Eden, and nigh the place
where he must now attempt the bold enterprize 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 is 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 tomptation, by seducing them to transgress: then leaves them awhile, to know further of their state by some other means. Meanwhile Uriel, descending on a sun-beam, 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 Paradi se, 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 12 sign from heaven, fiies out of Paradise.
FOR that warning voice, which he who saw
Th’ Apocalyps heard cry in heav'n aloud, Then when the Dragon put to second rout, Came furious down to be reveng'd ou men, Woe to th' inabitants on earth! that now, While time was, our first parents had been warn'd The coming of their sacred fue, and scap'd, Haply so scap'd, liis mortal snare: for now Satan, now first inflam'd with rage, came down, The tempter ere the accuser of mankind, To wreak on innocent frail man his loss Of that first batile, and his flight to hell: Yet not rejoicing in his speed, though bold, Far oft, and fearless, nor with cause to boast, Begins his dire atteinpt; which nigh the birth Now rolling boils in his tumultuous breast, And like a dev'lish engine back recoils Upon himself; horror and doubt distract His troubled thoughts, and from the bottom stir The hell within him ; for within him hell He brings, and round about him, nor from hell One step, no inore than from himself, can fly By change of place: now conscience wakes despair, That slamber'd; wakes the bitter meinory Of what he was, what is, and what must be Worse; of worse deeds worse sufl'rings inust ensue. Sometimes tow'rds Eden, which now in his view, Lay pleasant, his griev'd look he fixes sad; Sometimes tow'rds heav'n, and the full-blazing sun, Which now sat high in his meridian tow'r; Then much revolving, thus in sighs began:
O thou, that with surpassing glory crown'd, Look 'st from thy sole dominion like the god of this new world; at whose sight all the stars Hide their diminish'd heads: to thee I call, But with no friendly voice, and add thy name, O Sun, to tell thee how I hate thy beams, That bring to my remembrance from what state I fell, how glorious once above thy sphere; Till pride, and worse ambition, threw me down, Warring in heav'n against heav'n's matchless King. Ah, wherefore! he deserv'd no such return From me, whom he created what I was In that bright eminence, and with his good Upbraided none; nor was his service hard. What could be less than to afford him praise, The easiest recompense, and pay him thanks, How due! yet all his good prov'd ill in me, And wrought but malice; lifted up so high I 'sdain'd subjection, and thought one step higher Would set me high'st, and in a moinent quit The debt immense of endless gratitude, So burdensome still paying, still to owe, Forgetful what from him I still receiv'd; And understood not that a grateful mind By owing owes not, but still pays, at once Indebted and discharg'd; what burden then! O had his pow'rful destiny ordain'd Me some inferior angel! I had stood Then happy; no unbounded hope had rais'd Ambition. Yet why not? some other pow'r A$ great might have aspir'd, and me, though mean, Drawn to his part; but other pow'rs as great Fell not, but stand unshaken, from within Or froin without, to all temptations arm'd. Hadst thou the same free-will and pow'r to stand? Thou hadst. Whom bast thou then, or what, t'accue, But heav'n's free love, dealt equally to all? Be then his love accurs'd, since love, or bate,
To me alike, it deals eternal woe.
Th’Omnipotent. Ay me, they little know.
Farewell remorse: all good to me is lost;
Thus wbile he spake, each passion diinm'd his face,