The fiery furge, that from the precipice
Of Heav'n receiv'd us falling; and the thunder,
Wing'd with red lightning and impetuous rage,
Perhaps hath spent his shafts, and ceases now
To bellow through the vast and boundless deep.
Let us not flip th' occafion, whether scorn,
Or fatiate fury yield it from our foe.
Seeft thou yon dreary plain, forlorn and wild,
The feat of defolation, void of light,
Save what the glimmering of these livid flames
Cafts pale and dreadful? Thither let us tend
From off the toffing of these fiery waves,
There reft, if any rest can harbour there,
And re-affembling our afflicted Powers,
Confult how we may henceforth most offend
Our enemy, our own lofs how repair,
How overcome this dire calamity,
What reinforcement we may gain from hope,
If not what refolution from despair.
Thus Satan talking to his nearest mate
With head up-lift above the wave, and eyes
That sparkling blaz'd, his other parts besides
Prone on the flood, extended long and large
Lay floting many a rood, in bulk as huge
As whom the fables name of monstrous fize,
Titanian, or Earth-born, that warr'd on Jove,
Briareos or Typhon, whom the den
By ancient Tarfus held, or that fea-beast
Leviathan, which God of all his works
Created hugeft that fwim th' ocean stream;
Him haply flumb'ring on the Norway foam
The pilot of fome fmall night-founder'd skiff
Deeming fome iland, oft, as fea-men tell,
With fixed anchor in his skaly rind
Moors by his fide under the lee, while night
Invests the fea, and wished morn delays:
So ftretch'd out huge in length the Arch-Fiend lay
Chain'd on the burning lake, nor ever thence
Had ris'n or heav'd his head, but that the will
And high permiffion of all-ruling Heaven
Left him at large to his own dark designs,
That with reiterated crimes he might
Heap on himself damnation, while he fought
Evil to others, and enrag'd might fee
How all his malice ferv'd but to bring forth
Infinite goodness, grace and mercy shown
On Man by him seduc'd, but on himself
Treble confusion, wrath and vengeance pour'd.
Forthwith upright he rears from off the pool
His mighty ftature; on each hand the flames
Driv'n backward slope their pointing spires, and roll'd
In billows, leave i'th' midst a horrid vale.
Then with expanded wings he steers his flight
Aloft, incumbent on the dusky air
That felt unusual weight, till on dry land
He lights, if it were land that ever burn'd
With folid, as the lake with liquid fire;
And fuch appear'd in hue, as when the force
Of fubterranean wind transports a hill
Torn from Pelorus, or the fhatter'd fide
Of thund'ring Etna, whofe combustible
And fuel'd entrails thence conceiving fire,
Sublim'd with mineral fury, aid the winds,
And leave a finged bottom all involv'd
With stench and smoke: Such resting found the fole
Of unbleft feet. Him follow'd his next mate,
Both glorying to have 'fcap'd the Stygian flood
As Gods, and by their own recover'd strength,
Not by the sufferance of fupernal Power.
Is this the region, this the foil, the clime, Said then the loft Arch-Angel, this the feat That we must change for Heav'n, this mournful gloom For that celestial light? Be' it so, since he
Who now is Sovran can dispose and bid
What shall be right: farthest from him is best,
Whom reas'on hath equal'd, force hath made fupreme
Above his equals. Farewell happy fields,
Where joy for ever dwells: Hail horrors, hail
Infernal world, and thou profoundest Hell
Receive thy new poffeffor; one who brings
A mind not to be chang'd by place or time.
The mind is its own place, and in itself
Can make a Heav'n of Hell, a Hell of Heaven.
What matter where, if I be still the fame,
And what I fhould be, all but less than he
Whom thunder hath made greater? Here at least
We shall be free; th' Almighty hath not built
Here for his envy, will not drive us hence:
Here we may reign fecure, and in my choice
To reign is worth ambition though in Hell;
Better to reign in Hell, than serve in Heaven.
But wherefore let we then our faithful friends,
Th' afsociates and copartners of our loss,
Lie thus astonish'd on th' oblivious pool,
And call them not to share with us their part
In this unhappy mansion, or once more
With rallied arms to try what may be yet
Regain'd in Heav'n, or what more lost in Hell?
So Satan spake, and him Beëlzebub
Thus answer'd. Leader of thofe armies bright,
Which but th' Omnipotent none could have foil'd,
If once they hear that voice, their liveliest pledge
Of hope in fears and dangers, heard so oft
In worst extremes, and on the perilous edge
Of battel when it rag'd, in all assaults
Their fureft fignal, they will foon refume
New courage
and revive, though now they lie
Groveling and proftrate on yon lake of fire,
As we ere while, astounded and amaz’d,
No wonder, fall'n fuch a pernicious highth.
He scarce had ceas'd when the superior Fiend
Was moving toward the shore; his pond'rous shield,
Ethereal temper, maffy, large and round,
Behind him caft; the broad circumference
Hung on his shoulders like the moon, whose orb
Through optic glass the Tuscan artist views
At evening from the top of Fefolé,
Or in Valdarno, to defcry new lands,
Rivers or mountains in her spotty globe.
His fpear, to equal which the tallest pine
Hewn on Norwegian hills, to be the mast
Of some great ammiral, were but a wand,
He walk'd with to support uneasy steps
Over the burning marle, not like those steps
On Heaven's azure, and the torrid clime
Smote on him fore befides, vaulted with fire:
Nathlefs he fo indur'd, till on the beach
Of that inflamed fea he stood, and call'd
His legions, Angel forms, who lay intranc'd
Thick as autumnal leaves that ftrow the brooks
In Vallombrofa, where th' Etrurian fhades
High over-arch'd imbow'r; or scatter'd fedge
Aflote, when with fierce winds Orion arm'd
Hath vex'd the Red-Sea coaft, whofe waves o'erthrew
Bufiris and his Memphian chivalry,
While with perfidious hatred they pursued
The fojourners of Goshen, who beheld
From the safe shore their floting carcafes
And broken chariot wheels: fo thick beftrown
Abject and loft lay thefe, covering the flood,
Under amazement of their hideous change.
He call'd fo loud, that all the hollow deep
Of Hell refounded. Princes, Potentates,
Warriors, the flow'r of Heav'n, once your's, now lofts
If such astonishment as this can seise
Eternal Spi'rits; or have ye chos'n this place
After the toil of battel to repofe
Your wearied virtue, for the ease you find
To flumber here, as in the vales of Heaven?
Or in this abject pofture have ye fworn
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