Fell humble; and, embracing them, besought
His peace, and thus proceeded in her plaint:
Forsake me not thus, Adam! witness, Heaven,
What love sincere and reverence in my heart
I bear thee, and unweeting haye offended,
Unhappily deceived! Thy suppliant

I beg, and clasp thy knees; bereave me not,
Whereon I live, thy gentle looks, thy aid,
Thy counsel, in this uttermost distress,
My only strength and stay: forlorn of thee,
Whither shall I betake me, where subsist?

915

920

While yet we live, scarce one short hour perhaps,

Between us two let there be peace; both joining,

More miserable! Both have sinn'd; but thou
Against God only; I against God and thee;
And to the place of judgment will return,
There with my cries impórtune Heaven, that all
The sentence, from thy head removed, may light

930

On me,

sole cause to thee of all this woe;

Me, me only, just object of his ire!

935

She ended weeping; and her lowly plight, Immovable, till peace obtain'd from fault

Acknowledged and deplored, in Adam wrought
Commiseration: soon his heart relented

940

Towards her, his life so late, and sole delight,

Now at his feet submissive in distress;

Creature so fair his reconcilement seeking,

His counsel, whom she had displeased, his aid:
As one disarm'd, his anger all he lost,

945

And thus with peaceful words upraised her soon:
Unwary, and too desirous, as before,

So now of what thou know'st not, who desirest

The punishment all on thyself; alas!

Bear thine own first, ill able to sustain

950

His full wrath, whose thou feel'st as yet least part,

And my displeasure bear'st so ill. If prayers

Could alter high decrees, I to that place

Would speed before thee, and be louder heard,

That on my head all might be visited;

955

Thy frailty and infirmer sex forgiven,

To me committed, and by me exposed.

But rise; let us no more contend, nor blame

Each other, blamed enough elsewhere; but strive

In offices of love, how we may lighten

эсо

Each other's burden, in our share of woe;

Since this day's death denounced, if aught I see,

Will prove no sudden, but a slow-paced evil;
A long day's dying, to augment our pain;
And to our seed (O hapless seed!) derived.

965

To whom thus Eve, recovering heart, replied: Adam, by sad experiment I know

How little weight my words with thee can find,

Found so erroneous; thence by just event

Found so unfortunate: nevertheless,

970

Restored by thee, vile as I am, to place

Of new acceptance, hopeful to regain

Thy love, the sole contentment of my heart
Living or dying, from thee I will not hide
What thoughts in my unquiet breast are risen,
Tending to some relief of our extremes,
Or end; though sharp and sad, yet tolerable,
As in our evils, and of easier choice.
If care of our descent perplex us most,

975

Which must be born to certain woe, devour'd

980

By Death at last; and miserable it is

To be to others cause of misery,

Our own begotten, and of our loins to bring
Into this cursed world a woful race,

That after wretched life must be at last

985

Food for so foul a monster; in thy power

It lies, yet ere conception to prevent

The race unbless'd, to being yet unbegot.

Childless thou art, childless remain: so Death

Shall be deceived his glut, and with us two

990

And torment less than none of what we dread;

Then, both ourselves and seed at once to free

From what we fear for both, let us make short, 1000 Let us seek Death;-or, he not found, supply

With our own hands his office on ourselves:

Why stand we longer shivering under fears,

That show no end but death, and have the power,

Of many ways to die the shortest choosing,
Destruction with destruction to destroy?-

She ended here, or vehement despair

1005

1010

Broke off the rest; so much of death her thoughts
Had entertain'd, as dyed her cheeks with pale.
But Adam, with such counsel nothing sway'd,
To better hopes his more attentive mind
Labouring had raised; and thus to Eve replied.
Eve, thy contempt of life and pleasure seems
To argue in thee something more sublime
And excellent, than what thy mind contemns;
But self-destruction therefore sought refutes
That excellent thought in thee; and implies,
Not thy contempt, but anguish and regret
For loss of life and pleasure overloved.
Or if thou covet death, as utmost end
Of misery, so thinking to evade

The penalty pronounced; doubt not but God
Hath wiselier arm'd his vengeful ire than so
To be forestall'd much more I fear lest death,

1015

1020

So snatch'd, will not exempt us from the pain
We are by doom to pay; rather, such acts
Of contumacy will provoke the Highest
To make death in us live: then let us seek
Some safer resolution, which methinks
I have in view, calling to mind with heed
Part of our sentence, that thy seed shall bruis
The Serpent's head; piteous amends! unless
Be meant, whom I conjecture, our grand foe,
Satan; who, in the serpent, hath contrived
Against us this deceit: to crush his head
Would be revenge indeed! which will be lost
By death brought on ourselves, or childless days
Resolved, as thou proposest; so our foe

1025

1030

1035

Shall scape his punishment ordain'd, and we
Instead shall double ours upon our heads.
No more be mention'd then of violence
Against ourselves; and wilful barrenness,
That cuts us off from hope; and savours only
Rancour and pride, impatience and despite,
Reluctance against God and his just yoke
Laid on our necks. Remember with what mild
And gracious temper he both heard, and judged,
Without wrath or reviling; we expected

1040

1045

Immediate dissolution, which we thought

Was meant by death that day: when lo! to thee 1050 Pains only in childbearing were foretold,

And bringing forth; soon recompensed with joy,

Fruit of thy womb: on me the curse aslope

Glanced on the ground; with labour I must earn

My bread; what harm? Idleness had been worse. 1055
My labour will sustain me; and, lest cold
Or heat should injure us, his timely care
Hath, unbesought, provided; and his hands
Clothed us unworthy, pitying while he judged;
How much more, if we pray him, will his ear
Be open, and his heart to pity incline,
And teach us further by what means to shun

1060

1065

The inclement seasons, rain, ice, hail, and snow!
Which now the sky, with various face, begins
To show us in this mountain; while the winds
Blow moist and keen, shattering the graceful locks
Of these fair spreading trees; which bids us seek
Some better shroud, some better warmth to cherish
Our limbs benumb'd, ere this diurnal star

Leave cold the night, how we his gather'd beams 1070
Reflected may with matter sere foment;

Or, by collision of two bodies, grind

T'he air attrite to fire; as late the clouds

Justling, or push'd with winds, rude in their shock,

Tine the slant lightning; whose thwart flame, driven

down,

Kindles the gummy bark of fir or pine;

And sends a comfortable heat from far,

Which might supply the sun : such fire to use,

And what may else be remedy or cure

1076

To evils which our own misdeeds have wrought, 1080
He will instruct us praying, and of

grace
Beseeching him; so as we need not fear
To pass commodiously this life, sustain'd
By him with many comforts, till we end
In dust, our final rest and native home.
What better can we do than, to the place
Repairing where he judged us, prostrate fall
Before him reverent; and there confess

1085

Humbly our faults, and pardon beg; with tears
Watering the ground, and with our sighs the air 1090
Frequenting, sent from hearts contrite, in sign
Of sorrow unfeign'd, and humiliation meek?

Undoubtedly he will relent, and turn

From his displeasure; in whose look serene,
When angry most he seem'd and most severe,
What else but favour, grace, and mercy, shone?

So spake our father penitent; nor Eve
Felt less remorse: they, forthwith to the place
Repairing where he judged them, prostrate fell

1095