Of rigid fpears, and helmets throng'd, and shields
Various, with boastful argument portray'd,
The banded Pow'rs of Satan hafting on
With furious expedition; for they ween'd
That felf-fame day by fight, or by furprife,
To win the mount of God, and on his throne
To fet the envier of his ftate, the proud
Afpirer, but their thoughts prov'd fond and vain
In the mid way: though strange to us it seem'd
At first, that Angel fhould with Angel war,
And in fierce hofting meet, who wont to meet
So oft in feftivals of joy and love
Unanimous, as fons of one great fire
Hymning th' eternal Father: but the shout
Of battel now began, and rushing found
Of onfet ended foon each milder thought.
High in the midft exalted as a God
Th' Apoftate in his fun-bright chariot fat,
Idol of majesty divine, inclos'd
With flaming Cherubim and golden shields;
Then lighted from his gorgeous throne, for now
"Twixt hoft and hoft but narrow space was left,
A dreadful interval, and front to front
Prefented stood in terrible array
Of hideous length: before the cloudy van,
On the rough edge of battel ere it join'd,
Satan with vast and haughty strides advanc'd
Came towring, arm'd in adamant and gold;
Abdiel that fight endur'd not, where he ftood
Among the mightiest, bent on highest deeds,
And thus his own undaunted heart explores.
O Heav'n! that fuch resemblance of the Highest Should yet remain, where faith and reälty
Remain not: wherefore should not strength and might
There fail where virtue fails, or weakest prove
Where boldeft, though to fight unconquerable?
His puiffance, trusting in th' Almighty's aid,
I mean to try, whose reason I have try'd
Unfound and falfe; nor is it ought but juft,
That he who in debate of truth hath won
Should win in arms, in both disputes alike
Victor; though brutish that contéft and foul,
When reason hath to deal with force, yet so
Moft reafon is that reafon overcome.
So pondering, and from his armed peers
Forth stepping oppofit, half way he met
His daring foe, at this prevention more
Incens'd, and thus fecurely him defy'd.
Proud, art thou met? thy hope was to have reach'd
The throne of God unguarded, and his fide
Abandon'd at the terror of thy power
Or potent tongue: fool, not to think how vain
Against th' Omnipotent to rife in arms;
Who out of smallest things could without end
Have rais'd inceffant armies to defeat
Thy folly; or with folitary hand
Reaching beyond all limit, at one blow
Unaided could have finish'd thee, and whelin'd
Thy legions under darknefs: but thou feeft
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All are not of thy train; there be who faith
Prefer, and piety to God, though then
To thee not visible, when I alone
Seem'd in thy world erroneous to diffent
From all my fect thou feeft; now learn too late
How few fometimes may know, when thousands err.
Whom the grand foe with fcornful eye askance
Thus anfwer'd. Ill for thee, but in wish'd hour 150
Of my revenge, first fought for thou return'ft
From flight, feditious Angel, to receive
Thy merited reward, the firft aflay
Of this right hand provok'd, fince first that tongue
Infpir'd with contradi&tion durft oppofe
A third part of the Gods, in fynod met
Their deities to affert, who while they feel
Vigor divine within them, can allow
Omnipotence to none. But well thou com'ft
Before thy fellows, ambitious to win
From me fome plume, that thy fuccefs may show
Destruction to the reft: this pause between
(Unanswer'd left thou boaft) to let thee know;
At first I thought that Liberty and Heaven
To heav'nly fouls had been all one; but now
I fee that most through floth had rather ferve,
Miniftring Spirits, train'd up in feaft and fong;
Such haft thou arm'd, the minstrelsy of Heaven,
Servility with freedom to contend,
As both their deeds compar'd this day fhall prove. 170
To whom in brief thus Abdiel ftern reply'd. Apoftate, ftill thou err'ft, nor end wilt find
Of erring, from the path of truth remote :
Unjustly thou deprav'ft it with the name
Of fervitude to ferve whom God ordains,
Or Nature: God and Nature bid the fame,
When he who rules is worthiest, and excels
Them whom he governs. This is fervitude,
To ferve th' unwife, or him who hath rebell'd
Against his worthier, as thine now ferve thee,
Thyfelf not free, but to thyfelf inthrall'd;
Yet lewdly dar'ft our ministring upbraid.
Reign thou in Hell thy kingdom; let me serve
In Heav'n God ever bleft, and his divine
Behefts obey, worthiest to be obey'd;
Yet chains in Hell, not realms expect: mean while
From me return'd, as erst thou faidft, from flight,
This greeting on thy impious crest receive.
So faying, a noble stroke he lifted high,
Which hung not, but so swift with tempest fell 190
On the proud crest of Satan, that no fight,
Nor motion of fwift thought, lefs could his fhield
Such ruin intercept: ten paces huge
He back recoil'd; the tenth on bended knee
His maffy fpear upftay'd; as if on earth
Winds under ground, or waters forcing way
Sidelong had push'd a mountain from his feat
Half sunk with all his pines. Amazement seiz'd
The rebel Thrones, but greater rage to fee
Thus foil'd their mightieft; ours joy fill'd, and shout, Prefage of victory, and fierce defire
Of battel whereat Michäel bid found
Th' Arch-Angel trumpet; through the vast of Heaven
It founded, and the faithful armies rung
Hofannah to the High'ft: nor stood at gaze
The adverse legions, nor lefs hideous join’d
The horrid fhock: now ftorming fury rose,
And clamor fuch as heard in Heav'n till now
Was never; arms on armour clashing bray'd
Horrible discord, and the madding wheels
Of brazen chariots rag'd; dire was the noise
Of conflict; over head the difmal hifs
Of fiery darts in flaming volies flew,
And flying vaulted either hoft with fire..
So under fiery cope together rush'd
Both battels main, with ruinous affault
And inextinguishable rage; all Heaven
Refounded, and had Earth been then, all Earth
Had to her center fhook. What wonder? when
Millions of fierce encountring Angels fought
On either fide, the leaft of whom could wield
These elements, and arm him with the force
Of all their regions: how much more of power
Army' against army numberless to raise
Dreadful combuftion warring, and disturb,
Though not destroy, their happy native feat;
Had not th' eternal King omnipotent
From his ftrong hold of Heav'n high over-rul'd
And limited their might; though number'd fuch
As each divided legion might have seem'd
A numerous hoft, in ftrength each armed hand
A legion, led in fight yet leader feem'd
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