Victorious. Thus repuls'd, our final hope
Is flat despair: we must exasperate
Th' Almighty Victor to spend all his rage,
And that must end us; that must be our cure
To be no more.-Sad cure! for who would lose,
Though full of pain, this intellectual being;
Those thoughts, that wander through eternity
To perish rather, swallow'd up and lost
In the wide womb of uncreated night,

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Devoid of sense and motion? And who knows, (Let this be good,) whether our angry foe Can give it, or will ever? how he can, Is doubtful; that he never will, is sure. Will he, so wise, let loose at once his ire, Belike through impotence, or unaware, To give his enemies their wish, and end Them in his anger, whom his anger saves To punish endless?-Wherefore cease we then? Say they who counsel war; we are decreed, Reserv'd, and destin'd to eternal wo: Whatever doing, what can we suffer more; What can we suffer worse?-Is this then worst, Thus sitting, thus consulting, thus in arms? What! when we fled amain, pursu'd, and struck With heaven's afflicting thunder, and besought The deep to shelter us? This hell then seem'd A refuge from those wounds. Or, when we lay Chain'd on the burning lake? That sure was worse! What if the breath that kindled those grim fires, 170 Awak'd, should blow them into sevenfold rage, And plunge us in the flames? Or, from above, Should intermitted vengeance arm again His red right hand to plague us? What if all Her stores were open'd, and this firmament Of hell should spout her cataracts of fire? Impendent horrors! threat'ning hideous fall One day upon our heads: while we perhaps Designing or exhorting glorious war, Caught in a fiery tempest shall be hurl'd Each on his rock transfix'd, the sport and prey Of racking whirlwinds: or for ever sunk Under yon boiling ocean, wrapp'd in chains; There to converse with everlasting groans, Unrespited, unpitied, unrepriev'd,

Ages of hopeless end? This would be worse.

4

"

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War, therefore, open or concear'd, 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 height

All these our motions vain sees and derides:
Not more almighty to resist our might,

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Than wise to frustrate all our plots and wiles.

Shall we then live thus vile, the race of heaven

Thus trampled, thus expell'd, to suffer here

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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
That so ordains: this was at first resolv'd
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 vent'rous, if that fail them, shrink, and fear
What yet they know must follow, to endure
Exile or ignominy, or bonds, or pain,

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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

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His anger: and, perhaps, thus far remov'd,
Not mind us, not offending, satisfied

With what is punished: whence these raging fires Will slacken, if his breath stir not their flames. Our purer essence then will overcome

Their noxious vapour; or inur'd, not feel;

Or chang'd at length, and to the place conform'd

In temper, and in nature, will receive
Familiar the fierce heat, and void of pain,

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This horror will grow mild, this darkness, light: 220
Besides what hope the never-ending flight

Of future days may bring, what chance, what change
Worth waiting, since our present lot appears
For happy, though but il; for ill, not worst;
If we procure not to ourselves more wo."

Thus Belial with words cloth'd in reason's garb
Counsell'd ignoble ease, and peaceful sloth,
Not peace and af er him thus Mammon spake.

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"Either to disenthrone the King of heaven We war, if war be best, or to regain

:

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Our own right, lost: Him to unthrone we the
May hope, when everlasting Fate shall yield
To fickle Chance, and Chaos judge the strife:
The former vain to hope, argues as vain
The latter for what place can be for us
Within heaven's bound, unless heaven's Lord supreme
We overpower? Suppose he should relent
And publish grace to all, on promise made
Of new subjection; with what eyes could we
Stand in his presence humble, and receive
Strict laws imposed to celebrate his throne
With warbled hymns, and to his Godhead sing
Forc'd hallelujahis? while he lordly sits
Our envied Sovereign, and his altar breathes
Ambrosial odours and ambrosial flowers,
Our servile offerings! This must be our task
In heaven, this our delight; how wearisome
Eternity so spent, in worship paid

To whom we hate Let us not then pursue
By force impossible, by leave obtain'd
Unacceptable, though in heaven, our state
Of splendid vassalage: but rather scek
Our own good from ourselves, and from our own
Live to ourselves; though in this vast recess,
Free, and to none accountable; preferring
Hard liberty before the easy yoke

Of servile pomp. Our greatness will appear

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Then most conspicuous, when great things of smail, Useful of hurtful, prosperous of adverse

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We can create; and in what place soe'er
Thrive under evil, and work ease out of pain,
Through labour and endurance. This deep world
Of darkness do we dread? How oft amidst
Thick clouds and dark, doth heaven's all-ruling Sire
Choose to reside, his glory unobscur'd
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
Wants not her hidden lustre, gems, and gold:
Nor want we skill or art, from whence to raise
Magnificence; and what can heaven show more?,

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Our torments also may, in length of time,
Become our elements; these piercing fires
As soft as now severe, our temper chang'd
Into their temper; which must needs remove
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 were; dismising quite
All thought of war.-Ye have what I advise."

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He scarce nad finish'd, when such murmur fill'd Th' assembly, as when hollow rocks retain 275 The sound of blustering winds, which all night long Had rous'd the sea, now with hoarse cadence full Sea-faring men o'erwatch'd, whose bark by chance, Or pinnace, anchors in a craggy bay After the tempest: such applause was heard As Mammon ended, and his sentence pleas'd, Advising peace. For, such another field They dreaded worse than nell: so much the fear Of thunder, and the sword of Michael, 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 perceiv'd (than whom,
Satan except, none higher sat) with grave
Aspect he rose, and in his rising seem'd

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 noon-tide air; while thus he spake :

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"Thrones and imperial powers, offspring of heaven, Ethereal virtues! or these titles now

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Must we renounce, and, changing style, be call'd
Princes of hell? For, so the popular vote
Inclines, nere to continue, and build up here
A growing empire: doubtless! while we dream, 315
And know that the King of heaven hath doom'd

This place our dungeon; not our safe retreat
Beyond his potent arm, to live exempt

From Heaven's nigh jurisdiction, in new league
Banded against his throne: but to remain

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In strictest bondage, though thus far remov'd,
Under th' inevitable curb, reserv'd

His captive multitude: for he, be sure,

In height, or depth, still first and last will reign

Solc king, and of his kingdom lose no part
By our revolt; but over hell extend

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His empire, and with iron sceptre rule

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Us nere, as with his golden those in heaven.
What sit we then projecting peace and war?
War hath determin'd us, and foil'd with loss
In parable; terms of peace yet none
Vouchsafd, or sought for what peace will be given
To us enslav'd, but custody severe,

:

And stripes, and arbitrary punishment
Inflicted? and what peace can we return?
But, to our power, hostility and hate,

Untam'd 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?
Nor will occasion want, nor shall we need
With dangerous expedition, to invade

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Heaven, whose high walls fear no assault or siege,

Or ambush from the deep: what if we find

Some easier enterprize? There's a place,

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(If ancient and prophetic fame in heaven

Err not,) another world, the happy seat

Of some new race call'd Man; about this time
To be created like to us, though less

In power and excellence, but favour'd more

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Of him who rules above: so was his will

Pronounc'd among the gods, and by an oath,

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That shook heaven's whole circumference, confirm'd.
Thither let us bend all our thoughts, to learn
What creatures there inhabit, of what mould,
Or substance, how endued, and what their power,
And where their wealness, how attempted best
By force, or subtilty. Though heaven be shut,
And heaver's high arbitrator sit secure

In his own strength, this place may lie expos'd 360
The atmost border of his kingdom, lett