THE ARGUMENT.
God sitting on his Throne sees Satan flying towards this world, then newly created; shews him to the Son who sat at his right hand; foretells the success of Satan in perverting mankind; clears his own Justice and Wisdom from all imputation, having created Man free and able enough to have withstood his Tempter; yet declares his purpose of grace towards him, in regard he fell not of his own malice; as did Satan, but by him seduc't. The Son of God renders praises to his Father for the manifestation of his gracious purpose towards Man; but God again declares, that Grace cannot be extended towards Man without the satisfaction of divine Justice; Man hath offended the majesty of God by aspiring to God-head, and therefore with all his Progeny devoted to death must dye, unless some one can be found sufficient to answer for his offence, and undergo his Punishment. The Son of God freely offers himself a Ransome for Man: the Father accepts him, ordains his incarnation, pronounces his exaltation above all Names in Heaven and Earth; commands all the Angels to adore him; they obey, and hymning to thir Harps in full Quire, celebrate the Father and the Son. Mean while Satan alights upon the bare Convex of this Worlds outermost Orb; where wandring he first finds a place since call'd The Lymbo of Vanity; what persons and things fly up thither; thence comes to the Gate of Heaven, describ'd ascending by staires, and the waters above the Firmament that flow about it: His passage thence to the Orb of the Sun; he finds there Uriel the Regient of that Orb, but first changes himself into the shape of a meaner Angel; and pretending a zealous desire to behold the new Creation and Man whom God had plac't here, inquires of him the place of his habitation, and is directed; alights first on Mount Niphates.
HAil holy Light, ofspring of Heav'n first-born,Or of th' Eternal Coeternal beamMay I express thee unblam'd? since God is light,And never but in unapproached lightDwelt from Eternitie, dwelt then in thee,Bright effluence of bright essence increate.Or hear'st thou rather pure Ethereal stream,Whose Fountain who shall tell? before the Sun,Before the Heavens thou wert, and at the voiceOf God, as with a Mantle didst investThe rising world of waters dark and deep,Won from the void and formless infinite.Thee I re-visit now with bolder wing,Escap't the Stygian Pool, though long detain'dIn that obscure sojourn, while in my flightThrough utter and through middle darkness borneWith other notes then to th' Orphean LyreI sung of Chaos and Eternal Night,Taught by the heav'nly Muse to venture downThe dark descent, and up to reascend,Though hard and rare: thee I revisit safe,And feel thy sovran vital Lamp; but thouRevisit'st not these eyes, that rowle in vainTo find thy piercing ray, and find no dawn;So thick a drop serene hath quencht thir Orbs,Or dim suffusion veild. Yet not the moreCease I to wander where the Muses hauntCleer Spring, or shadie Grove, or Sunnie Hill,Smit with the love of sacred Song; but chiefThee Sion and the flowrie Brooks beneathThat wash thy hallowd feet, and warbling flow,Nightly I visit: nor somtimes forgetThose other two equal'd with me in Fate,So were I equal'd with them in renown,Blind Thamyris and blind Maeonides,And Tiresias and Phineus Prophets old.Then feed on thoughts, that voluntarie moveHarmonious numbers; as the wakeful BirdSings darkling, and in shadiest Covert hidTunes her nocturnal Note. Thus with the YearSeasons return, but not to me returnsDay, or the sweet approach of Ev'n or Morn,Or sight of vernal bloom, or Summers Rose,Or flocks, or heards, or human face divine;But cloud in stead, and ever-during darkSurrounds me, from the chearful wayes of menCut off, and for the Book of knowledg fairPresented with a Universal blancOf Natures works to mee expung'd and ras'd,And wisdome at one entrance quite shut out.So much the rather thou Celestial lightShine inward, and the mind through all her powersIrradiate, there plant eyes, all mist from thencePurge and disperse, that I may see and tellOf things invisible to mortal sight.
Now had the Almighty Father from above,From the pure Empyrean where he sitsHigh Thron'd above all highth, bent down his eye,His own works and their works at once to view:About him all the Sanctities of HeavenStood thick as Starrs, and from his sight receiv'dBeatitude past utterance; on his rightThe radiant image of his Glory sat,His onely Son; On Earth he first beheldOur two first Parents, yet the onely twoOf mankind, in the happie Garden plac't,Reaping immortal fruits of joy and love,Uninterrupted joy, unrivald loveIn blissful solitude; he then survey'dHell and the Gulf between, and Satan thereCoasting the wall of Heav'n on this side NightIn the dun Air sublime, and ready nowTo stoop with wearied wings, and willing feetOn the bare outside of this World, that seem'dFirm land imbosom'd without Firmament,Uncertain which, in Ocean or in Air.Him God beholding from his prospect high,Wherein past, present, future he beholds,Thus to his onely Son foreseeing spake.
Onely begotten Son, seest thou what rageTransports our adversarie, whom no boundsPrescrib'd, no barrs of Hell, nor all the chainsHeapt on him there, nor yet the main AbyssWide interrupt can hold; so bent he seemsOn desparate reveng, that shall redoundUpon his own rebellious head. And nowThrough all restraint broke loose he wings his wayNot farr off Heav'n, in the Precincts of light,Directly towards the new created World,And Man there plac't, with purpose to assayIf him by force he can destroy, or worse,By some false guile pervert; and shall pervertFor man will hark'n to his glozing lyes,And easily transgress the sole Command,Sole pledge of his obedience: So will fall,Hee and his faithless Progenie: whose fault?Whose but his own? ingrate, he had of meeAll he could have; I made him just and right,Sufficient to have stood, though free to fall.Such I created all th' Ethereal PowersAnd Spirits, both them who stood and them who faild;Freely they stood who stood, and fell who fell.Not free, what proof could they have givn sincereOf true allegiance, constant Faith or Love,Where onely what they needs must do, appeard,Not what they would? what praise could they receive?What pleasure I from such obedience paid,When Will and Reason (Reason also is choice)Useless and vain, of freedom both despoild,Made passive both, had servd necessitie,Not mee. They therefore as to right belongd,So were created, nor can justly accuseThir maker, or thir making, or thir Fate,As if predestination over-rul'dThir will, dispos'd by absolute DecreeOr high foreknowledge; they themselves decreedThir own revolt, not I: if I foreknew,Foreknowledge had no influence on their fault,Which had no less prov'd certain unforeknown.So without least impulse or shadow of Fate,Or aught by me immutablie foreseen,They trespass, Authors to themselves in allBoth what they judge and what they choose; for soI formd them free, and free they must remain,Till they enthrall themselves: I else must changeThir nature, and revoke the high DecreeUnchangeable, Eternal, which ordain'dThir freedom, they themselves ordain'd thir fall.The first sort by thir own suggestion fell,Self-tempted, self-deprav'd: Man falls deceiv'dBy the other first: Man therefore shall find grace,The other none: in Mercy and Justice both,Through Heav'n and Earth, so shall my glorie excel,But Mercy first and last shall brightest shine.
Thus while God spake, ambrosial fragrance fill'dAll Heav'n, and in the blessed Spirits electSense of new joy ineffable diffus'd:Beyond compare the Son of God was seenMost glorious, in him all his Father shonSubstantially express'd, and in his faceDivine compassion visibly appeerd,Love without end, and without measure Grace,Which uttering thus he to his Father spake.
O Father, gracious was that word which clos'dThy sovran sentence, that Man should find grace;For which both Heav'n and Earth shall high extollThy praises, with th' innumerable soundOf Hymns and sacred Songs, wherewith thy ThroneEncompass'd shall resound thee ever blest.For should Man finally be lost, should ManThy creature late so lov'd, thy youngest SonFall circumvented thus by fraud, though joyndWith his own folly? that be from thee farr,That farr be from thee, Father, who art JudgOf all things made, and judgest onely right.Or shall the Adversarie thus obtainHis end, and frustrate thine, shall he fulfillHis malice, and thy goodness bring to naught,Or proud return though to his heavier doom,Yet with revenge accomplish't and to HellDraw after him the whole Race of mankind,By him corrupted? or wilt thou thy selfAbolish thy Creation, and unmake,For him, what for thy glorie thou hast made?So should thy goodness and thy greatness bothBe questiond and blaspheam'd without defence.
To whom the great Creatour thus reply'd.O Son, in whom my Soul hath chief delight,Son of my bosom, Son who art aloneMy word, my wisdom, and effectual might,All hast thou spok'n as my thoughts are, allAs my Eternal purpose hath decreed:Man shall not quite be lost, but sav'd who will,Yet not of will in him, but grace in meFreely voutsaft; once more I will renewHis lapsed powers, though forfeit and enthrall'dBy sin to foul exorbitant desires;Upheld by me, yet once more he shall standOn even ground against his mortal foe,By me upheld, that he may know how frailHis fall'n condition is, and to me owAll his deliv'rance, and to none but me.Some I have chosen of peculiar graceElect above the rest; so is my will:The rest shall hear me call, and oft be warndThir sinful state, and to appease betimesTh' incensed Deitie, while offerd graceInvites; for I will cleer thir senses dark,What may sufflce, and soft'n stonie heartsTo pray, repent, and bring obedience due.To Prayer, repentance, and obedience due,Though but endevord with sincere intent,Mine ear shall not be slow, mine eye not shut.And I will place within them as a guideMy Umpire Conscience, whom if they will hear,Light after light well us'd they shall attain,And to the end persisting, safe arrive.This my long sufferance and my day of graceThey who neglect and scorn, shall never taste;But hard be hard'nd, blind be blinded more,That they may stumble on, and deeper fall;And none but such from mercy I exclude.But yet all is not don; Man disobeying,Disloyal breaks his fealtie, and sinnsAgainst the high Supremacie of Heav'n,Affecting God-head, and so loosing all,To expiate his Treason hath naught left,But to destruction sacred and devote,He with his whole posteritie must dye,Dye hee or Justice must; unless for himSom other able, and as willing, payThe rigid satisfaction, death for death.Say Heav'nly powers, where shall we find such love,Which of ye will be mortal to redeemMans mortal crime, and just th' unjust to save,Dwels in all Heaven charitie so deare?
He ask'd, but all the Heav'nly Quire stood mute,And silence was in Heav'n: on mans behalfPatron or Intercessor none appeerd,Much less that durst upon his own head drawThe deadly forfeiture, and ransom set.And now without redemption all mankindMust have bin lost, adjudg'd to Death and HellBy doom severe, had not the Son of God,In whom the fulness dwels of love divine,His dearest mediation thus renewd.
Father, thy word is past, man shall find grace;And shall grace not find means, that finds her way,The speediest of thy winged messengers,To visit all thy creatures, and to allComes unprevented, unimplor'd, unsought,Happie for man, so coming; he her aideCan never seek, once dead in sins and lost;Attonement for himself or offering meet,Indebted and undon, hath none to bring:Behold mee then, mee for him, life for lifeI offer, on mee let thine anger fall;Account mee man; I for his sake will leaveThy bosom, and this glorie next to theeFreely put off, and for him lastly dyeWell pleas'd, on me let Death wreck all his rage;Under his gloomie power I shall not longLie vanquisht; thou hast givn me to possessLife in my self for ever, by thee I live,Though now to Death I yield, and am his dueAll that of me can die, yet that debt paid,Thou wilt not leave me in the loathsom graveHis prey, nor suffer my unspotted SouleFor ever with corruption there to dwell;But I shall rise Victorious, and subdueMy vanquisher, spoild of his vanted spoile;Death his deaths wound shall then receive, and stoopInglorious, of his mortall sting disarm'd.I through the ample Air in Triumph highShall lead Hell Captive maugre Hell, and showThe powers of darkness bound. Thou at the sightPleas'd, out of Heaven shalt look down and smile,While by thee rais'd I ruin all my Foes,Death last, and with his Carcass glut the Grave:Then with the multitude of my redeemdShall enter Heaven long absent, and returne,Father, to see thy face, wherein no cloudOf anger shall remain, but peace assur'd,And reconcilement; wrauth shall be no moreThenceforth, but in thy presence joy entire.
His words here ended, but his meek aspectSilent yet spake, and breath'd immortal loveTo mortal men, above which only shonFilial obedience: as a sacrificeGlad to be offer'd, he attends the willOf his great Father. Admiration seis'dAll Heav'n, what this might mean, and whither tendWondring; but soon th' Almighty thus reply'd:
O thou in Heav'n and Earth the only peaceFound out for mankind under wrauth, O thouMy sole complacence! well thou know'st how dear,To me are all my works, nor Man the leastThough last created, that for him I spareThee from my bosom and right hand, to save,By loosing thee a while, the whole Race lost.Thou therefore whom thou only canst redeem,Thir Nature also to thy Nature joyn;And be thy self Man among men on Earth,Made flesh, when time shall be, of Virgin seed,By wondrous birth: Be thou in Adams roomThe Head of all mankind, though Adams Son.As in him perish all men, so in theeAs from a second root shall be restor'd,As many as are restor'd, without thee none.His crime makes guiltie all his Sons, thy meritImputed shall absolve them who renounceThir own both righteous and unrighteous deeds,And live in thee transplanted, and from theeReceive new life. So Man, as is most just,Shall satisfie for Man, be judg'd and die,And dying rise, and rising with him raiseHis Brethren, ransomd with his own dear life.So Heav'nly love shall outdoo Hellish hateGiving to death, and dying to redeeme,So dearly to redeem what Hellish hateSo easily destroy'd, and still destroyesIn those who, when they may, accept not grace.Nor shalt thou by descending to assumeMans Nature, less'n or degrade thine owne.Because thou hast, though Thron'd in highest blissEqual to God, and equally enjoyingGod-like fruition, quitted all to saveA World from utter loss, and hast been foundBy Merit more then Birthright Son of God,Found worthiest to be so by being Good,Farr more then Great or High; because in theeLove hath abounded more then Glory abounds,Therefore thy Humiliation shall exaltWith thee thy Manhood also to this Throne;Here shalt thou sit incarnate, here shalt ReignBoth God and Man, Son both of God and Man,Anointed universal King, all PowerI give thee, reign for ever, and assumeThy Merits; under thee as Head SupreamThrones, Princedoms, Powers, Dominions I reduce:All knees to thee shall bow, of them that bideIn Heaven, or Earth, or under Earth in Hell;When thou attended gloriously from Heav'nShalt in the Sky appeer, and from thee sendThe summoning Arch-Angels to proclaimeThy dread Tribunal: forthwith from all WindesThe living, and forthwith the cited deadOf all past Ages to the general DoomShall hast'n, such a peal shall rouse thir sleep.Then all thy Saints assembl'd, thou shalt judgeBad men and Angels, they arraignd shall sinkBeneath thy Sentence; Hell, her numbers full,Thenceforth shall be for ever shut. Mean whileThe World shall burn, and from her ashes springNew Heav'n and Earth, wherein the just shall dwell,And after all thir tribulations longSee golden days, fruitful of golden deeds,With Joy and Love triumphing, and fair Truth.Then thou thy regal Scepter shalt lay by,For regal Scepter then no more shall need,God shall be All in All. But all ye Gods,Adore him, who to compass all this dies,Adore the Son, and honour him as mee.
No sooner had th' Almighty ceas't, but allThe multitude of Angels with a shoutLoud as from numbers without number, sweetAs from blest voices, uttering joy, Heav'n rungWith Jubilee, and loud Hosanna's filldTh' eternal Regions: lowly reverentTowards either Throne they bow, and to the groundWith solemn adoration down they castThir Crowns inwove with Amarant and Gold,Immortal Amarant, a Flour which onceIn Paradise, fast by the Tree of LifeBegan to bloom, but soon for mans offenceTo Heav'n remov'd where first it grew, there grows,And flours aloft shading the Fount of Life,And where the river of Bliss through midst of HeavnRowls o're Elisian Flours her Amber stream;With these that never fade the Spirits electBind thir resplendent locks inwreath'd with beams,Now in loose Garlands thick thrown off, the brightPavement that like a Sea of Jasper shonImpurpl'd with Celestial Roses smil'd.Then Crown'd again thir gold'n Harps they took,Harps ever tun'd, that glittering by thir sideLike Quivers hung, and with Praeamble sweetOf charming symphonie they introduceThir sacred Song, and waken raptures high;No voice exempt, no voice but well could joineMelodious part, such concord is in Heav'n.
Thee Father first they sung Omnipotent,Immutable, Immortal, Infinite,Eternal King; thee Author of all being,Fountain of Light, thy self invisibleAmidst the glorious brightness where thou sit'stThron'd inaccessible, but when thou shad'stThe full blaze of thy beams, and through a cloudDrawn round about thee like a radiant Shrine,Dark with excessive bright thy skirts appeer,Yet dazle Heav'n, that brightest SeraphimApproach not, but with both wings veil thir eyes.Thee next they sang of all Creation first,Begotten Son, Divine Similitude,In whose conspicuous count'nance, without cloudMade visible, th' Almighty Father shines,Whom else no Creature can behold; on theeImpresst the effulgence of his Glorie abides,Transfus'd on thee his ample Spirit rests.Hee Heav'n of Heavens and all the Powers thereinBy thee created, and by thee threw downTh' aspiring Dominations: thou that dayThy Fathers dreadful Thunder didst not spare,Nor stop thy flaming Chariot wheels, that shookHeav'ns everlasting Frame, while o're the necksThou drov'st of warring Angels disarraid.Back from pursuit thy Powers with loud acclaimeThee only extoll'd, Son of thy Fathers might,To execute fierce vengeance on his foes,Not so on Man; him through their malice fall'n,Father of Mercie and Grace, thou didst not doomeSo strictly, but much more to pitie encline:No sooner did thy dear and onely SonPerceive thee purpos'd not to doom frail ManSo strictly, but much more to pitie enclin'd,He to appease thy wrauth, and end the strifeOf Mercy and justice in thy face discern'd,Regardless of the Bliss wherein hee satSecond to thee, offerd himself to dieFor mans offence. O unexampl'd love,Love no where to be found less then Divine!Hail Son of God, Saviour of Men, thy NameShall be the copious matter of my SongHenceforth, and never shall my Harp thy praiseForget, nor from thy Fathers praise disjoine.
Thus they in Heav'n, above the starry Sphear,Thir happie hours in joy and hymning spent.Mean while upon the firm opacous GlobeOf this round World, whose first convex dividesThe luminous inferior Orbs, enclos'dFrom Chaos and th' inroad of Darkness old,Satan alighted walks: a Globe farr offIt seem'd, now seems a boundless ContinentDark, waste, and wild, under the frown of NightStarless expos'd, and ever-threatning stormsOf Chaos blustring round, inclement skie;Save on that side which from the wall of Heav'nThough distant farr som small reflection gainesOf glimmering air less vext with tempest loud:Here walk'd the Fiend at large in spacious field.As when a Vultur on Imaus bred,Whose snowie ridge the roving Tartar bounds,Dislodging from a Region scarce of preyTo gorge the flesh of Lambs or yeanling KidsOn Hills where Flocks are fed, flies toward the SpringsOf Ganges or Hydaspes, Indian streams;But in his way lights on the barren PlainesOf Sericana, where Chineses driveWith Sails and Wind thir canie Waggons light:So on this windie Sea of Land, the FiendWalk'd up and down alone bent on his prey,Alone, for other Creature in this placeLiving or liveless to be found was none,None yet, but store hereafter from the earthUp hither like Aereal vapours flewOf all things transitorie and vain, when SinWith vanity had filld the works of men:Both all things vain, and all who in vain thingsBuilt thir fond hopes of Glorie or lasting fame,Or happiness in this or th' other life;All who have thir reward on Earth, the fruitsOf painful Superstition and blind Zeal,Naught seeking but the praise of men, here findFit retribution, emptie as thir deeds;All th, unaccomplisht works of Natures hand,Abortive, monstrous, or unkindly mixt,Dissolvd on Earth, fleet hither, and in vain,Till final dissolution, wander here,Not in the neighbouring Moon, as some have dreamd;Those argent Fields more likely habitants,Translated Saints, or middle Spirits holdBetwixt th' Angelical and Human kinde:Hither of ill-joynd Sons and Daughters bornFirst from the ancient World those Giants cameWith many a vain exploit, though then renownd:The builders next of Babel on the PlainOf Sennaar, and still with vain designeNew Babels, had they wherewithall, would build:Others came single; he who to be deemdA God, leap'd fondly into Aetna flames,Empedocles, and hee who to enjoyPlato's Elysium, leap'd into the Sea,Cleombrotus, and many more too long,Embryo's and Idiots, Eremits and FriersWhite, Black and Grey, with all thir trumperie.Here Pilgrims roam, that stray'd so farr to seekIn Golgotha him dead, who lives in Heav'n;And they who to be sure of ParadiseDying put on the weeds of Dominic,Or in Franciscan think to pass disguis'd;They pass the Planets seven, and pass the fixt,And that Crystalline Sphear whose ballance weighsThe Trepidation talkt, and that first mov'd;And now Saint Peter at Heav'ns Wicket seemsTo wait them with his Keys, and now at footOf Heav'ns ascent they lift thir Feet, when loeA violent cross wind from either CoastBlows them transverse ten thousand Leagues awryInto the devious Air; then might ye seeCowles, Hoods and Habits with thir wearers tostAnd flutterd into Raggs, then Reliques, Beads,Indulgences, Dispenses, Pardons, Bulls,The sport of Winds: all these upwhirld aloftFly o're the backside of the World farr offInto a Limbo large and broad, since calldThe Paradise of Fools, to few unknownLong after, now unpeopl'd, and untrod;All this dark Globe the Fiend found as he pass'd,And long he wanderd, till at last a gleameOf dawning light turnd thither-ward in hasteHis travell'd steps; farr distant he descriesAscending by degrees magnificentUp to the wall of Heaven a Structure high,At top whereof, but farr more rich appeerdThe work as of a Kingly Palace GateWith Frontispice of Diamond and GoldImbellisht, thick with sparkling orient GemmesThe Portal shon, inimitable on EarthBy Model, or by shading Pencil drawn.The Stairs were such as whereon Jacob sawAngels ascending and descending, bandsOf Guardians bright, when he from Esau fledTo Padan-Aram in the field of Luz,Dreaming by night under the open Skie,And waking cri'd, This is the Gate of Heav'n.Each Stair mysteriously was meant, nor stoodThere alwayes, but drawn up to Heav'n somtimesViewless, and underneath a bright Sea flow'dOf Jasper, or of liquid Pearle, whereonWho after came from Earth, sayling arriv'd,Wafted by Angels, or flew o're the LakeRapt in a Chariot drawn by fiery Steeds.The Stairs were then let down, whether to dareThe Fiend by easie ascent, or aggravateHis sad exclusion from the dores of Bliss.Direct against which op'nd from beneath,Just o're the blissful seat of Paradise,A passage down to th' Earth, a passage wide,Wider by farr then that of after-timesOver Mount Sion, and, though that were large,Over the Promis'd Land to God so dear,By which, to visit oft those happy Tribes,On high behests his Angels to and froPass'd frequent, and his eye with choice regardFrom Paneas the fount of Jordans floodTo Beersaba, where the Holy LandBorders on Aegypt and the Arabian shoare;So wide the op'ning seemd, where bounds were setTo darkness, such as bound the Ocean wave.Satan from hence now on the lower stairThat scal'd by steps of Gold to Heav'n GateLooks down with wonder at the sudden viewOf all this World at once. As when a ScoutThrough dark and desart wayes with peril goneAll night; at last by break of chearful dawneObtains the brow of some high-climbing Hill,Which to his eye discovers unawareThe goodly prospect of some forein landFirst-seen, or some renown'd MetropolisWith glistering Spires and Pinnacles adornd,Which now the Rising Sun guilds with his beams.Such wonder seis'd, though after Heaven seen,The Spirit maligne, but much more envy seis'dAt sight of all this World beheld so faire.Round he surveys, and well might, where he stoodSo high above the circling CanopieOf Nights extended shade; from Eastern PointOf Libra to the fleecie Starr that bearsAndromeda farr off Atlantic SeasBeyond th' Horizon; then from Pole to PoleHe views in bredth, and without longer pauseDown right into the Worlds first Region throwsHis flight precipitant, and windes with easeThrough the pure marble Air his oblique wayAmongst innumerable Starrs, that shonStars distant, but nigh hand seemd other Worlds,Or other Worlds they seemd, or happy Iles,Like those Hesperian Gardens fam'd of old,Fortunate Fields, and Groves and flourie Vales,Thrice happy Iles, but who dwelt happy thereHe stayd not to enquire: above them allThe golden Sun in splendor likest HeavenAllur'd his eye: Thither his course he bendsThrough the calm Firmament; but up or downeBy center, or eccentric, hard to tell,Or Longitude, where the great LuminarieAlooff the vulgar Constellations thick,That from his Lordly eye keep distance due,Dispenses Light from farr; they as they moveThir Starry dance in numbers that computeDays, months, & years, towards his all-chearing LampTurn swift thir various motions, or are turndBy his Magnetic beam, that gently warmsThe Univers, and to each inward partWith gentle penetration, though unseen,Shoots invisible vertue even to the deep:So wondrously was set his Station bright.There lands the Fiend, a spot like which perhapsAstronomer in the Sun's lucent OrbeThrough his glaz'd Optic Tube yet never saw.The place he found beyond expression bright,Compar'd with aught on Earth, Medal or Stone;Not all parts like, but all alike informdWith radiant light, as glowing Iron with fire;If mettal, part seemd Gold, part Silver cleer;If stone, Carbuncle most or Chrysolite,Rubie or Topaz, to the Twelve that shonIn Aarons Brest-plate, and a stone besidesImagind rather oft then elsewhere seen,That stone, or like to that which here belowPhilosophers in vain so long have sought,In vain, though by thir powerful Art they bindeVolatil Hermes, and call up unboundIn various shapes old Proteus from the Sea,Draind through a Limbec to his Native forme.What wonder then if fields and regions hereBreathe forth Elixir pure, and Rivers runPotable Gold, when with one vertuous touchTh' Arch-chimic Sun so farr from us remoteProduces with Terrestrial Humor mixtHere in the dark so many precious thingsOf colour glorious and effect so rare?Here matter new to gaze the Devil metUndazl'd, farr and wide his eye commands,For sight no obstacle found here, nor shade,But all Sun-shine, as when his Beams at NoonCulminate from th' Aequator, as they nowShot upward still direct, whence no way roundShadow from body opaque can fall, and the Aire,No where so cleer, sharp'nd his visual rayTo objects distant farr, whereby he soonSaw within kenn a glorious Angel stand,The same whom John saw also in the Sun:His back was turnd, but not his brightness hid;Of beaming sunnie Raies, a golden tiarCircl'd his Head, nor less his Locks behindIllustrious on his Shoulders fledge with wingsLay waving round; on som great charge imploy'dHe seemd, or fixt in cogitation deep.Glad was the Spirit impure as now in hopeTo find who might direct his wandring flightTo Paradise the happie seat of Man,His journies 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 Cherube he appeers,Not of the prime, yet such as in his faceYouth smil'd Celestial, and to every LimbSutable grace diffus'd, so well he feignd;Under a Coronet his flowing haireIn curles on either cheek plaid, wings he woreOf many a colourd plume sprinkl'd with Gold,His habit fit for speed succinct, and heldBefore his decent steps a Silver wand.He drew not nigh unheard, the Angel bright,Ere he drew nigh, his radiant visage turnd,Admonisht by his ear, and strait was knownTh' Arch-Angel Uriel, one of the seav'nWho in Gods presence, neerest to his ThroneStand ready at command, and are his EyesThat run through all the Heav'ns, or down to th' EarthBear his swift errands over moist and dry,O're Sea and Land: him Satan thus accostes;
Uriel, for thou of those seav'n Spirits that standIn sight of God's high Throne, gloriously bright,The first art wont his great authentic willInterpreter through highest Heav'n to bring,Where all his Sons thy Embassie attend;And here art likeliest by supream decreeLike honour to obtain, and as his EyeTo visit oft this new Creation round;Unspeakable desire to see, and knowAll these his wondrous works, but chiefly Man,His chief delight and favour, him for whomAll these his works so wondrous he ordaind,Hath brought me from the Quires of CherubimAlone thus wandring. Brightest Seraph tellIn which of all these shining Orbes hath ManHis fixed seat, or fixed seat hath none,But all these shining Orbes his choice to dwell;That I may find him, and with secret gaze,Or open admiration him beholdOn whom the great Creator hath bestowdWorlds, and on whom hath all these graces powrd;That both in him and all things, as is meet,The Universal Maker we may praise;Who justly hath drivn out his Rebell FoesTo deepest Hell, and to repair that lossCreated this new happie Race of MenTo serve him better: wise are all his wayes.
So spake the false dissembler unperceivd;For neither Man nor Angel can discernHypocrisie, the onely evil that walksInvisible, except to God alone,By his permissive will, through Heav'n and Earth:And oft though wisdom wake, suspicion sleepsAt wisdoms Gate, and to simplicitieResigns her charge, while goodness thinks no illWhere no ill seems: Which now for once beguil'dUriel, though Regent of the Sun, and heldThe sharpest sighted Spirit of all in Heav'n;Who to the fraudulent Impostor fouleIn his uprightness answer thus returnd.Fair Angel, thy desire which tends to knowThe works of God, thereby to glorifieThe great Work-Maister, leads to no excessThat reaches blame, but rather merits praiseThe more it seems excess, that led thee hitherFrom thy Empyreal Mansion thus alone,To witness with thine eyes what some perhapsContented with report hear onely in heav'n:For wonderful indeed are all his works,Pleasant to know, and worthiest to be allHad in remembrance alwayes with delight;But what created mind can comprehendThir number, or the wisdom infiniteThat brought them forth, but hid thir causes deep.I saw when at his Word the formless Mass,This worlds material mould, came to a heap:Confusion heard his voice, and wilde uproarStood rul'd, stood vast infinitude confin'd;Till at his second bidding darkness fled,Light shon, and order from disorder sprung:Swift to thir several Quarters hasted thenThe cumbrous Elements, Earth, Flood, Aire, Fire,And this Ethereal quintessence of Heav'nFlew upward, spirited with various forms,That rowld orbicular, and turnd to StarrsNumberless, as thou seest, and how they move;Each had his place appointed, each his course,The rest in circuit walles this Universe.Look downward on that Globe whose hither sideWith light from hence, though but reflected, shines;That place is Earth the seat of Man, that lightHis day, which else as th' other HemisphereNight would invade, but there the neighbouring Moon(So call that opposite fair Starr) her aideTimely interposes, and her monthly roundStill ending, still renewing, through mid Heav'n;With borrowd light her countenance triformHence fills and empties to enlighten th' Earth,And in her pale dominion checks the night.That spot to which I point is Paradise,Adams abode, those loftie shades his Bowre.Thy way thou canst not miss, me mine requires.
Thus said, he turnd, 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 th' Ecliptic, sped with hop'd success,Throws his steep flight in many an Aerie wheele,Nor staid, till on Niphates top he lights.
The End of the Third Book.
