That with the Mightiest rais'd me to contend, And to the fierce contention brought along Innumerable force of Spirits arm'd,
That durst dislike his reign, and me preferring, His utmost power with adverse power oppos'd In dubious battle on the plains of Heaven, And shook his throne. What, though field be lost! All is not lost: th' unconquerable will, And study of revenge, immortal hate, And courage never to submit or yield, And what is else not to be overcome; That glory never shall his wrath or might Extort from me. To bow and sue for grace With suppliant knee, and deify his power, Who from the terror of this arm so late Doubted his empire; that were low indeed, That were an ignominy, and shame beneath This downfall: since, by fate, the strength of Gods And this empyreal substance cannot fail: Since through experience of this great event, In arms not worse, in foresight much advanc'd, We may with more successful hope resolve To wage by force or guile eternal war, Irreconcileable to our grand foe,
Who now triumphs, and, in th' excess of joy Sole reigning, holds the tyranny of Heaven. »
So spake the apostate Angel, though in pain, Vaunting aloud, but rack'd with deep despair: And him thus answer'd soon his bold compeer.
O Prince, O Chief of many throned Powers, That led th' embattled Seraphim to war Under thy conduct, and, in dreadful deeds
Che con l'Eccelso a battagliar mi spinse, Meco traendo alla crudel tenzone
Forza infinita di guerrieri spirti
Che osar spregiarne il regno, e me preferto, Sua possa estrema urtar con possa avversa In dubbia pugna ne' celesti piani
E il soglio ne crollar. Perduto è il campo? Tutto non si perdè: volere invitto
E studio di vendetta, odio immortale E coraggio a non mai piegare o cedere, O s'altro v'è che non domar si possa, Non mai il suo sdegno o il suo poter tal vanto Torrà da me. Che io bassi e umil prostrato Chiegga mercede ed al suo scettro adori Che dal terror di questo braccio or ora Temè al suo regno; inver ciò fia viltade Ciò fia grave onta e di peggior vergogna Che il mio cader. Poichè per fato il divo Vigor e questo esser celeste è eterno; Poiché per prova di tal grande evento Siam pari in armi, in preveder più accorti, Osar possiamo con miglior speranza Trattar per forza o inganno eterna guerra Sempre più acerba al nostro gran nemico, Che ora trionfa ed in sua gioia estrema Solo regnando fia tiranno in cielo. »
Cosi l'angel rubel sebben tra pene, Con baldo dir, ma in core disperato : E a lui di botto il prode suo compagno. « O prence o primo di cotanti eroi Che gli schierati serafini in guerra Guidar te duce, ed in tremendi fatti
Fearless, endanger'd Heaven's perpetual king, And put to proof his high supremacy, Whether upheld by strength, or chance, or fate; Too well I see, and rue the dire event, That with sad overthrow, and foul defeat, Hath lost us Heaven, and all this mighty host In horrible destruction laid thus low, As far as Gods and heavenly essences Can perish: for the mind and spirit remains Invincible, and vigour soon returns,
Though all our glory extinct, and happy state Here swallow'd up in endless misery.
But what if He, our conqueror (whom I now Of force believe Almighty, since no less
Than such could have o'erpower'd such force as ours), Have left us this our spirit and strength entire Strongly to suffer and support our pains, That we may so suffice his vengeful ire, Or do him mightier service as his thralls By right of war, whate'er his business be, Here in the heart of Hell to work in fire, Or do his errands in the gloomy deep? What can it in then avail, though yet we feel Strength undiminish'd, or eternal being
To undergo eternal punishment? >
Whereto with speedy words the'Arch-fiend replied. « Fall'n Cherub, to be weak is miserable,
Doing or suffering: but of this be sure,
To do aught good never will be our task; But ever to do ill our sole delight, As being the contrary to his high will Whom we resist. If then His providence
Impavidi assaliro il Rege eterno
E cimentaro l'alto suo primato
Se in valor poggi in fato od in fortuna; Ben troppo io veggo e esècro il diro caso Che con dolente sorte e rotta infame Rapinne il ciel, e si grand' oste tutta Precipitò in si orribile ruina,
Per quanto perir ponno e numi e essenze Celesti: chè la vita sta e lo spirto Invitto, e tosto la virtù ritorna;
Benchè ogni nostra spenta gloria e stato Felice assorban qui infiniti danni. Ma che, se ei nostro vincitor (quale io Sforzato or credo onnipossente, chè altri Non vinto avria cotanta nostra possa) Questo lasciocei spirto e forza intègra Forte a soffrir e tolerare affanni Acciò bastiam alla sua rabbia ultrice, O più serviggio gli prestiam quai schiavi A gius di guerra, in ogni suo talento, Nel cor d'inferno qui a stentar nel foco O far suoi messi per gli oscuri abissi? Dunque che può giovar benchè vigore Sentiamo ancor intègro, o eterna essenza A qui durar eterna pena? » A tanto Con pronto dir l' arcidemòn ripiglia.
« Caduto Cherubin, chi langue è misero Nell' oprar nel patir; ma intanto apprendi Che il ben mai più non fia la nostra parte; Ma il nostro sol piacer fia oprare il male Che avverso è all'alta volontà di lui Cui riluttiam. Se poi sua provvidenza
Out of our evil seek to bring forth good, Our labour must be to pervert that end, And out of good still to find means of evil, Which oft-times may succeed; so as perhaps Shall grieve him, if I fail not, and disturb His inmost counsels from their destin'd aim. But see, the angry victor hath recall'd
His ministers of vengeance and pursuit,
Back to the gates of Heaven: the sulphurous hail, Shot after us in storm, o'erblown, hath laid The fiery surge, that from the precipice
Of Heaven 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 slip th' occasion, whether scorn, Or satiate fury, yield it from our foe.
Seest thou yon dreary plain, forlorn and wild, The seat of desolation, void of light,
Save what the glimmering of these livid flames Casts pale and dreadful? Thither let us tend From off the tossing of these fiery waves; There rest, if any rest can harbour there, And re-assembling our afflicted Powers, Consult how we may henceforth most offend Our enemy; our own loss how repair; How overcome this dire calamity;
What reinforcement we may gain from hope; If not, what resolution 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,
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