His red right hand to plague us? What if all

Her stores were opened, and this firmament Of Hell should spout her cataracts of fire, Impendent horrors, threatening hideous fall One day upon our heads; while we perhaps Designing or exhorting glorious war, Caught in a fiery tempest, shall be hurled, 180 Each on his rock transfixed, the sport and prey

Of racking whirlwinds, or forever sunk
Under yon boiling ocean, wrapt in chains;
There to converse with everlasting groans,
Unrespited, unpitied, unreprieved,

Ages of hopeless end! This would be worse.
War therefore, open or concealed, alike
My voice dissuades: for what can force or
guile

With him, or who deceive his mind, whose eye

Views all things at one view? He from Heaven's highth

190

All these our motions vain sees and derides;
Not more almighty to resist our might
Than wise to frustrate all our plots and
wiles.

Shall we then live thus vile, the race of

Heaven

Thus trampled, thus expelled to suffer here Chains and these torments? Better these

than worse,

By my advice; since fate inevitable
Subdues us, and omnipotent decree,
The Victor's will. To suffer, as to do,
Our strength is equal, nor the law unjust 200
That so ordains: this was at first resolved,
If we were wise, against so great a foe
Contending, and so doubtful what might
fall.

I laugh, when those who at the spear are bold

And venturous, if that fail them, shrink, and fear

What yet they know must follow-to endure Exile, or ignominy, or bonds, or pain,

The sentence of their conqueror. This is

now

Our doom; which if we can sustain and bear,
Our Supreme Foe in time may much remit 210
His anger, and perhaps, thus far removed,
Not mind us not offending, satisfied
With what is punished; whence these rag-
ing fires

Will slacken, if his breath stir not their flames.

Our purer essence then will overcome Their noxious vapor, or, inured, not feel;

Of servile pomp. pear

Our greatness will ap

Then most conspicuous, when great things of small,

260

Useful of hurtful, prosperous of adverse, We can create, and in what place soe'er Thrive under evil, and work ease out of pain Through labor and endurance. This deep world

Of darkness do we dread? How oft amidst Thick clouds and dark doth Heaven's allruling Sire

Choose to reside, his glory unobscured, And with the majesty of darkness round Covers his throne, from whence deep thunders roar,

Mustering their rage, and Heaven resembles Hell!

As he our darkness, cannot we his light Imitate when we please? This desert

soil

270

Wants not her hidden luster, gems, and gold;

Nor want we skill or art, from whence to raise

Magnificence; and what can Heaven show more?

Our torments also may in length of time
Become our elements, these piercing fires
As soft as now severe, our temper changed
Into their temper; which must needs re-

move

280

The sensible of pain. All things invite
To peaceful counsels, and the settled state
Of order, how in safety best we may
Compose our present evils, with regard
Of what we are and where, dismissing quite
All thoughts of war. Ye have what I ad-
vise."

He scarce had finished, when such murmur filled

The assembly, as when hollow rocks retain The sound of blustering winds, which all night long

Had roused the sea, now with hoarse cadence lull

Seafaring men o'erwatched, whose bark by chance,

Or pinnace, anchors in a craggy bay After the tempest: such applause was heard

290

As Mammon ended, and his sentence pleased,

Advising peace; for such another field They dreaded worse than Hell; so much the fear

Of thunder and the sword of Michaël

Wrought still within them; and no less desire

To found this nether empire, which might rise,

By policy, and long process of time,
In emulation opposite to Heaven.
Which when Beelzebub perceived, than
whom,

Satan except, none higher sat, with grave 300
Aspect he rose, and in his rising seemed
A pillar of state; deep on his front engraven
Deliberation sat and public care;

And princely counsel in his face yet shone.
Majestic, though in ruin. Sage he stood,
With Atlantean shoulders fit to bear

The weight of mightiest monarchies; his look

Drew audience and attention still as night Or summer's noontide air, while thus he spake:

"Thrones and Imperial Powers, Offspring of Heaven,

310

Ethereal Virtues! or these titles now Must we renounce, and changing style, be called

Princes of Hell? for so the popular vote Inclines-here to continue, and build up here

A growing empire; doubtless! while we dream,

And know not that the King of Heaven hath doomed

This place our dungeon-not our safe retreat

Beyond his potent arm, to live exempt From Heaven's high jurisdiction, in new league

Banded against his throne, but to remain 320 In strictest bondage, though thus far removed,

Under the inevitable curb, reserved
His captive multitude. For he, be sure,
In highth or depth, still first and last will
reign

Sole king, and of his kingdom lose no part
By our revolt, but over Hell extend
His empire, and with iron scepter rule
Us here, as with his golden those in Heaven.
What sit we then projecting peace and war?
War hath determined us, and foiled with
loss
Irreparable; terms of peace yet none
Vouchsafed or sought; for what peace will
be given

To us enslaved, but custody severe,
And stripes, and arbitrary punishment
Inflicted? and what peace can we return,

330

But, to our power, hostility, and hate, Untamed reluctance, and revenge, though slow,

Yet ever plotting how the Conqueror least May reap his conquest, and may least rejoice

In doing what we most in suffering feel? 340 Nor will occasion want, nor shall we need With dangerous expedition to invade. Heaven, whose high walls fear no assault or siege,

Or ambush from the Deep. What if we find

Some easier enterprise? There is a place (If ancient and prophetic fame in Heaven Err not), another World, the happy seat Of some new race called Man, about this time

To be created like to us, though less
In power and excellence, but favored

420

To second, or oppose, or undertake
The perilous attempt; but all sat mute,
Pondering the danger with deep thoughts;
and each

In other's countenance read his own dismay, Astonished. None among the choice and prime

Of those Heaven-warring champions could be found

So hardy as to proffer or accept,
Alone, the dreadful voyage; till at last
Satan, whom now transcendent glory raised
Above his fellows, with monarchal pride
Conscious of highest worth, unmoved thus
spake:-

"O Progeny of Heaven! Empyreal Thrones!

431