High on a Throne of Royal State, which far
Outshon the wealth of Ormus1 and of Ind,
Or where the gorgeous East with richest hand
Showrs on her Kings Barbaric Pearl and Gold,2
5
Satan exalted sat, by merit rais’d
To that bad eminence; and from despair
Thus high uplifted beyond hope, aspires
Beyond thus high, insatiate to pursue
Vain Warr with Heav’n, and by success untaught
10
His proud imaginations thus displaid.
Powers and Dominions, Deities of Heav’n,
For since no deep within her gulf can hold
Immortal vigor, though opprest and fall’n,
I give not Heav’n for lost. From this descent
15
Celestial vertues rising, will appear
More glorious and more dread then from no fall,
And trust themselves to fear no second fate:
Mee though just right, and the fixt Laws of Heav’n
Did first create your Leader, next, free choice,
20
With what besides, in Counsel or in Fight,
Hath bin achiev’d of merit, yet this loss
Thus farr at least recover’d, hath much more
Establisht in a safe unenvied Throne
Yeilded with full consent. The happier state
25
In Heav’n, which follows dignity, might draw
Envy from each inferior; but who here
Will envy whom the highest place exposes
Formost to stand against the Thunderers aim
Your bulwark, and condemns to greatest share
30
Of endless pain? where there is then no good
For which to strive, no strife can grow up there
From Faction; for none sure will claim in Hell
Precedence, none, whose portion is so small
Of present pain, that with ambitious mind
35
Will covet more. With this advantage then
To union, and firm Faith, and firm accord,
More then can be in Heav’n, we now return
To claim our just inheritance of old,
Surer to prosper then prosperity
40
Could have assur’d us; and by what best way,
Whether of open Warr or covert guile,
We now debate; who can advise, may speak.
He ceas’d, and next him Moloc, Scepter’d King
Stood up, the strongest and the fiercest Spirit
45
That fought in Heav’n; now fiercer by despair:
His trust was with th’ Eternal to be deem’d
Equal in strength, and rather then be less
Car’d not to be at all; with that care lost
Went all his fear: of God, or Hell, or worse
50
He reck’d not, and these words thereafter spake.
My sentence is for open Warr: Of Wiles,
More unexpert, I boast not: them let those
Contrive who need, or when they need, not now.
For while they sit contriving, shall the rest,
55
Millions that stand in Arms, and longing wait
The Signal to ascend, sit lingring here
Heav’ns fugitives, and for thir dwelling place
Accept this dark opprobrious Den of shame,
The Prison of his Tyranny who Reigns
60
By our delay? no, let us rather choose
Arm’d with Hell flames and fury all at once
O’re Heav’ns high Towrs to force resistless way,
Turning our Tortures into horrid Arms
Against the Torturer; when to meet the noise
65
Of his Almighty Engin he shall hear
Infernal Thunder, and for Lightning see
Black fire and horror shot with equal rage
Among his Angels; and his Throne it self
Mixt with Tartarean Sulphur, and strange fire,
70
His own invented Torments. But perhaps
The way seems difficult and steep to scale
With upright wing against a higher foe.
Let such bethink them, if the sleepy drench
Of that forgetful Lake benumm not still,
75
That in our proper motion we ascend
To us is adverse.3 Who but felt of late
When the fierce Foe hung on our brok’n Rear
Insulting, and pursu’d us through the Deep,
80
With what compulsion and laborious flight
We sunk thus low? Th’ ascent is easie then;
Th’ event is fear’d; should we again provoke
Our stronger, some worse way his wrath may find
To our destruction: if there be in Hell
85
Fear to be worse destroy’d: what can be worse
Then to dwell here, driv’n out from bliss, condemn’d
In this abhorred deep to utter woe;
Where pain of unextinguishable fire
Must exercise us without hope of end
90
The Vassals of his anger, when the Scourge
Inexorably, and the torturing hour
Calls us to Penance? More destroy’d then thus
We should be quite abolisht and expire.
What fear we then? what doubt we to incense
95
His utmost ire? which to the highth enrag’d,
Will either quite consume us, and reduce
To nothing this essential, happier farr
Then miserable to have eternal being:
Or if our substance be indeed Divine,
100
And cannot cease to be, we are at worst
On this side nothing; and by proof we feel
Our power sufficient to disturb his Heav’n,
And with perpetual inrodes to Allarm,
Though inaccessible, his fatal Throne:
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Which if not Victory is yet Revenge.
He ended frowning, and his look denounc’d4
Desperate revenge, and Battel dangerous
To less then Gods. On th’ other side up rose
Belial, in act more graceful and humane;
110
A fairer person lost not Heav’n; he seemd
For dignity compos’d and high exploit:
But all was false and hollow; though his Tongue
Dropt Manna, and could make the worse appear
The better reason, to perplex and dash
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Maturest Counsels: for his thoughts were low;
To vice industrious, but to Nobler deeds
Timorous and slothful: yet he pleas’d the ear,
And with perswasive accent thus began.
I should be much for open Warr, O Peers,
120
As not behind in hate; if what was urg’d
Main reason to perswade immediate Warr,
Did not disswade me most, and seem to cast
Ominous conjecture on the whole success:
When he who most excels in fact of Arms,
125
In what he counsels and in what excels
Mistrustful, grounds his courage on despair
And utter dissolution, as the scope
Of all his aim, after some dire revenge.
First, what Revenge? the Towrs of Heav’n are fill’d
130
With Armed watch, that render all access
Impregnable; oft on the bordering Deep
Encamp thir Legions, or with obscure wing
Scout farr and wide into the Realm of night,
Scorning surprize. Or could we break our way
135
By force, and at our heels all Hell should rise
With blackest Insurrection, to confound
Heav’ns purest Light, yet our great Enemy
All incorruptible would on his Throne
Sit unpolluted, and th’ Ethereal mould
140
Incapable of stain would soon expel
Her mischief, and purge off the baser fire
Victorious. Thus repuls’d, our final hope
Is flat despair: we must exasperate
Th’ Almighty Victor to spend all his rage,
145
And that must end us, that must be our cure,
To be no more; sad cure; for who would loose,
Though full of pain, this intellectual being,
Those thoughts that wander through Eternity,
To perish rather, swallowd up and lost
150
In the wide womb of uncreated night,
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.
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Will he, so wise, let loose at once his ire,
Belike through impotence, or unaware,
To give his Enemies thir wish, and end
Them in his anger, whom his anger saves
To punish endless? wherefore cease we then?
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Say they who counsel Warr, we are decreed,
Reserv’d and destin’d to Eternal woe;
Whatever doing, what can we suffer more,
What can we suffer worse? is this then worst,
Thus sitting, thus consulting, thus in Arms?
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What when we fled amain, pursu’d and strook
With Heav’ns 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.
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What if the breath that kindl’d those grim fires
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?5 what if all
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Her stores were open’d, and this Firmament
Of Hell should spout her Cataracts of Fire,
Impendent horrors, threatning hideous fall
One day upon our heads; while we perhaps
Designing or exhorting glorious warr,
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Caught in a fierie Tempest shall be hurl’d
Each on his rock transfixt,6 the sport and prey
Of racking whirlwinds, or for ever sunk
Under yon boyling Ocean, wrapt in Chains;
There to converse with everlasting groans,
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Unrespited, unpitied, unrepreev’d,
Ages of hopeless end; this would be worse.
Warr therefore, open or conceal’d, alike
My voice disswades; for what can force or guile
With him, or who deceive his mind, whose eye
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Views all things at one view? he from heav’ns highth
All these our motions vain, sees and derides;7
Not more Almighty to resist our might
Then wise to frustrate all our plots and wiles.
Shall we then live thus vile, the Race of Heav’n
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Thus trampl’d, thus expell’d to suffer here
Chains and these Torments? better these then worse
By my advice; since fate inevitable
Subdues us, and Omnipotent Decree,
The Victors will. To suffer, as to doe,
200
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
205
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,
The sentence of thir Conquerour: This is now
Our doom; which if we can sustain and bear,
210
Our Supream Foe in time may much remit
His anger, and perhaps thus farr remov’d
Not mind us not offending, satisfi’d
With what is punish’t; whence these raging fires
Will slack’n, if his breath stir not thir flames.
215
Our purer essence then will overcome
Thir noxious vapour, or enur’d not feel,
Or chang’d at length, and to the place conformd
In temper and in nature, will receive
Familiar the fierce heat, and void of pain;
220
This horror will grow mild, this darkness light,
Besides what hope the never-ending flight
Of future dayes may bring, what chance, what change
Worth waiting, since our present lot appeers
For happy though but ill, for ill not worst,
225
If we procure not to our selves more woe.
Thus Belial with words cloath’d in reasons garb
Counsel’d ignoble ease, and peaceful sloath,
Not peace: and after him thus Mammon spake.
Either to disinthrone the King of Heav’n
230
We warr, if warr be best, or to regain
Our own right lost: him to unthrone we then
May hope, when everlasting Fate shall yeild
To fickle Chance, and Chaos judge the strife:
The former vain to hope argues as vain
235
The latter: for what place can be for us
Within Heav’ns bound, unless Heav’ns Lord supream
We overpower? Suppose he should relent
And publish Grace to all, on promise made
Of new Subjection; with what eyes could we
240
Stand in his presence humble, and receive
Strict Laws impos’d, to celebrate his Throne
With warbl’d Hymns, and to his Godhead sing
Forc’t Halleluiahs; while he Lordly sits
Our envied Sovran, and his Altar breathes
245
Ambrosial Odours and Ambrosial Flowers,
Our servile offerings. This must be our task
In Heav’n, this our delight; how wearisom
Eternity so spent in worship paid
To whom we hate. Let us not then pursue
250
By force impossible, by leave obtain’d
Unacceptable, though in Heav’n, our state
Of splendid vassalage, but rather seek
Our own good from our selves, and from our own
Live to our selves, though in this vast recess,
255
Free, and to none accountable, preferring
Hard liberty before the easie yoke8
Of servile Pomp. Our greatness will appear
Then most conspicuous, when great things of small,
Useful of hurtful, prosperous of adverse
260
We can create, and in what place so e’re
Thrive under evil, and work ease out of pain
Through labour and indurance. This deep world
Of darkness do we dread? How oft amidst
Thick clouds and dark doth Heav’ns all-ruling Sire
265
Choose to reside, his Glory unobscur’d,
And with the Majesty of darkness round
Covers his Throne; from whence deep thunders roar
Must’ring thir rage, and Heav’n resembles Hell?
As he our darkness, cannot we his Light
270
&
nbsp; Imitate when we please? This Desart soil
Wants not her hidden lustre, Gemms and Gold;
Nor want we skill or Art, from whence to raise
Magnificence; and what can Heav’n shew more?
Our torments also may in length of time
275
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 settl’d State
280
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 warr: ye have what I advise.
He scarce had finisht, when such murmur filld
285
Th’ Assembly, as when hollow Rocks retain
The sound of blustring winds, which all night long
Had rous’d the Sea, now with hoarse cadence lull
Sea-faring men orewatcht, whose Bark by chance
Or Pinnace anchors in a craggy Bay
290
After the Tempest: Such applause was heard
As Mammon ended, and his Sentence pleas’d,
Advising peace: for such another Field
They dreaded worse then Hell: so much the fear
Of Thunder and the Sword of Michael
295
Wrought still within them; and no less desire
To found this nether Empire, which might rise
By pollicy, and long process of time,
In emulation opposite to Heav’n.
Which when Beëlzebub perceiv’d, then whom,