Paradise Lost, John Milton [bts book recommendations .txt] 📗

servitude inglorious well nigh half The angelick name, and thinner left the throng Of his adorers: He, to be avenged,

And to repair his numbers thus impaired, Whether such virtue spent of old now failed More Angels to create, if they at least Are his created, or, to spite us more, Determined to advance into our room

A creature formed of earth, and him endow, Exalted from so base original,

With heavenly spoils, our spoils: What he decreed, He effected; Man he made, and for him built Magnificent this world, and earth his seat, Him lord pronounced; and, O indignity!

Subjected to his service angel-wings, And flaming ministers to watch and tend Their earthly charge: Of these the vigilance I dread; and, to elude, thus wrapt in mist Of midnight vapour glide obscure, and pry In every bush and brake, where hap may find The serpent sleeping; in whose mazy folds To hide me, and the dark intent I bring.

O foul descent! that I, who erst contended With Gods to sit the highest, am now constrained Into a beast; and, mixed with bestial slime, This essence to incarnate and imbrute, That to the highth of Deity aspired!

But what will not ambition and revenge Descend to? Who aspires, must down as low As high he soared; obnoxious, first or last, To basest things. Revenge, at first though sweet, Bitter ere long, back on itself recoils: Let it; I reck not, so it light well aimed, Since higher I fall short, on him who next Provokes my envy, this new favourite Of Heaven, this man of clay, son of despite, Whom, us the more to spite, his Maker raised From dust: Spite then with spite is best repaid.

So saying, through each thicket dank or dry, Like a black mist low-creeping, he held on His midnight-search, where soonest he might find The serpent; him fast-sleeping soon he found In labyrinth of many a round self-rolled, His head the midst, well stored with subtile wiles: Not yet in horrid shade or dismal den, Nor nocent yet; but, on the grassy herb, Fearless unfeared he slept: in at his mouth The Devil entered; and his brutal sense, In heart or head, possessing, soon inspired With act intelligential; but his sleep Disturbed not, waiting close the approach of morn.

Now, when as sacred light began to dawn In Eden on the humid flowers, that breathed Their morning incense, when all things, that breathe, From the Earth’s great altar send up silent praise To the Creator, and his nostrils fill With grateful smell, forth came the human pair, And joined their vocal worship to the quire Of creatures wanting voice; that done, partake The season prime for sweetest scents and airs: Then commune, how that day they best may ply Their growing work: for much their work out-grew The hands’ dispatch of two gardening so wide, And Eve first to her husband thus began.

Adam, well may we labour still to dress This garden, still to tend plant, herb, and flower, Our pleasant task enjoined; but, till more hands Aid us, the work under our labour grows, Luxurious by restraint; what we by day Lop overgrown, or prune, or prop, or bind, One night or two with wanton growth derides Tending to wild. Thou therefore now advise, Or bear what to my mind first thoughts present: Let us divide our labours; thou, where choice Leads thee, or where most needs, whether to wind The woodbine round this arbour, or direct The clasping ivy where to climb; while I, In yonder spring of roses intermixed With myrtle, find what to redress till noon: For, while so near each other thus all day Our task we choose, what wonder if so near Looks intervene and smiles, or object new Casual discourse draw on; which intermits Our day’s work, brought to little, though begun Early, and the hour of supper comes unearned?

To whom mild answer Adam thus returned.

Sole Eve, associate sole, to me beyond Compare above all living creatures dear!

Well hast thou motioned, well thy thoughts employed, How we might best fulfil the work which here God hath assigned us; nor of me shalt pass Unpraised: for nothing lovelier can be found In woman, than to study houshold good, And good works in her husband to promote.

Yet not so strictly hath our Lord imposed Labour, as to debar us when we need

Refreshment, whether food, or talk between, Food of the mind, or this sweet intercourse Of looks and smiles; for smiles from reason flow, To brute denied, and are of love the food; Love, not the lowest end of human life.

For not to irksome toil, but to delight, He made us, and delight to reason joined.

These paths and bowers doubt not but our joint hands Will keep from wilderness with ease, as wide As we need walk, till younger hands ere long Assist us; But, if much converse perhaps Thee satiate, to short absence I could yield: For solitude sometimes is best society, And short retirement urges sweet return.

But other doubt possesses me, lest harm Befall thee severed from me; for thou knowest What hath been warned us, what malicious foe Envying our happiness, and of his own Despairing, seeks to work us woe and shame By sly assault; and somewhere nigh at hand Watches, no doubt, with greedy hope to find His wish and best advantage, us asunder; Hopeless to circumvent us joined, where each To other speedy aid might lend at need: Whether his first design be to withdraw Our fealty from God, or to disturb

Conjugal love, than which perhaps no bliss Enjoyed by us excites his envy more; Or this, or worse, leave not the faithful side That gave thee being, still shades thee, and protects.

The wife, where danger or dishonour lurks, Safest and seemliest by her husband stays, Who guards her, or with her the worst endures.

To whom the virgin majesty of Eve,

As one who loves, and some unkindness meets, With sweet austere composure thus replied.

Offspring of Heaven and Earth, and all Earth’s Lord!

That such an enemy we have, who seeks Our ruin, both by thee informed I learn, And from the parting Angel over-heard, As in a shady nook I stood behind,

Just then returned at shut of evening flowers.

But, that thou shouldst my firmness therefore doubt To God or thee, because we have a foe May tempt it, I expected not to hear.

His violence thou fearest not, being such As we, not capable of death or pain, Can either not receive, or can repel.

His fraud is then thy fear; which plain infers Thy equal fear, that my firm faith and love Can by his fraud be shaken or seduced; Thoughts, which how found they harbour in thy breast, Adam, mis-thought of her to thee so dear?

To whom with healing words Adam replied.

Daughter of God and Man, immortal Eve!

For such thou art; from sin and blame entire: Not diffident of thee do I dissuade

Thy absence from my sight, but to avoid The attempt itself, intended by our foe.

For he who tempts, though in vain, at least asperses The tempted with dishonour foul; supposed Not incorruptible of faith, not proof Against temptation: Thou thyself with scorn And anger wouldst resent the offered wrong, Though ineffectual found: misdeem not then, If such affront I labour to avert

From thee alone, which on us both at once The enemy, though bold, will hardly dare; Or daring, first on me the assault shall light.

Nor thou his malice and false guile contemn; Subtle he needs must be, who could seduce Angels; nor think superfluous other’s aid.

I, from the influence of thy looks, receive Access in every virtue; in thy sight More wise, more watchful, stronger, if need were Of outward strength; while shame, thou looking on, Shame to be overcome or over-reached, Would utmost vigour raise, and raised unite.

Why shouldst not thou like sense within thee feel When I am present, and thy trial choose With me, best witness of thy virtue tried?

So spake domestick Adam in his care

And matrimonial love; but Eve, who thought Less attributed to her faith sincere, Thus her reply with accent sweet renewed.

If this be our condition, thus to dwell In narrow circuit straitened by a foe, Subtle or violent, we not endued

Single with like defence, wherever met; How are we happy, still in fear of harm?

But harm precedes not sin: only our foe, Tempting, affronts us with his foul esteem Of our integrity: his foul esteem

Sticks no dishonour on our front, but turns Foul on himself; then wherefore shunned or feared By us? who rather double honour gain From his surmise proved false; find peace within, Favour from Heaven, our witness, from the event.

And what is faith, love, virtue, unassayed Alone, without exteriour help sustained?

Let us not then suspect our happy state Left so imperfect by the Maker wise, As not secure to single or combined.

Frail is our happiness, if this be so, And Eden were no Eden, thus exposed.

To whom thus Adam fervently replied.

O Woman, best are all things as the will Of God ordained them: His creating hand Nothing imperfect or deficient left

Of all that he created, much less Man, Or aught that might his happy state secure, Secure from outward force; within himself The danger lies, yet lies within his power: Against his will he can receive no harm.

But God left free the will; for what obeys Reason, is free; and Reason he made right, But bid her well be ware, and still erect; Lest, by some fair-appearing good surprised, She dictate false; and mis-inform the will To do what God expressly hath forbid.

Not then mistrust, but tender love, enjoins, That I should mind thee oft; and mind thou me.

Firm we subsist, yet possible to swerve; Since Reason not impossibly may meet Some specious object by the foe suborned, And fall into deception unaware,

Not keeping strictest watch, as she was warned.

Seek not temptation then, which to avoid Were better, and most likely if from me Thou sever not: Trial will come unsought.

Wouldst thou approve thy constancy, approve First thy obedience; the other who can know, Not seeing thee attempted, who attest?

But, if thou think, trial unsought may find Us both securer than thus warned thou seemest, Go; for thy stay, not free, absents thee more; Go in thy native innocence, rely

On what thou hast of virtue; summon all!

For God towards thee hath done his part, do thine.

So spake the patriarch of mankind; but Eve Persisted; yet submiss, though last, replied.

With thy permission then, and thus forewarned Chiefly by what thy own last reasoning words Touched only; that our trial, when least sought, May find us both perhaps far less prepared, The willinger I go, nor much expect

A foe so proud will first the weaker seek; So bent, the more shall shame him his repulse.

Thus saying, from her husband’s hand her hand Soft she withdrew; and, like a Wood-Nymph light, Oread or Dryad, or of Delia’s train, Betook her to the groves; but Delia’s self In gait surpassed, and Goddess-like deport, Though not as she with bow and quiver armed, But with such gardening tools as Art yet rude, Guiltless of fire, had formed, or Angels brought.

To Pales, or Pomona, thus adorned,

Likest she seemed, Pomona when she fled Vertumnus, or to Ceres in her prime, Yet virgin of Proserpina from Jove.

Her long with ardent look his eye pursued Delighted, but desiring more her stay.

Oft he to her his charge of quick return Repeated; she to him as oft engaged

To be returned by noon amid the bower, And all things in best order to invite Noontide repast, or afternoon’s repose.

O much deceived, much failing,