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Book I
I,
WHO erewhile the happy Garden sung
By one man's
disobedience lost, now sing
Recovered Paradise to all
mankind,
By one man's firm obedience fully tried
Through all temptation, and the Tempter foiled
In all
his wiles, defeated and repulsed,
And Eden raised in
the waste Wilderness.
Thou Spirit, who led'st this
glorious Eremite
Into the desert, his victorious
field
Against the spiritual foe, and brought'st him
thence
By proof the undoubted Son of God, inspire,
As thou art wont, my prompted song, else mute,
And
bear through highth or depth of Nature's bounds,
With
prosperous wing full summed, to tell of deeds
Above
heroic, though in secret done,
And unrecorded left
through many an age:
Worthy to have not remained so
long unsung.
Now had the great Proclaimer, with a
voice
More awful than the sound of trumpet, cried
Repentance, and Heaven's kingdom nigh at hand
To all
baptized. To his great baptism flocked
With awe the
regions round, and with them came
From Nazareth the
son of Joseph deemed
To the flood Jordan--came as
then obscure,
Unmarked, unknown. But him the Baptist
soon
Descried, divinely warned, and witness bore
As to his worthier, and would have resigned
To him
his heavenly office. Nor was long
His witness
unconfirmed: on him baptized
Heaven opened, and in
likeness of a Dove
The Spirit descended, while the
Father's voice
From Heaven pronounced him his beloved
Son.
That heard the Adversary, who, roving still
About the world, at that assembly famed
Would not be
last, and, with the voice divine
Nigh thunder-struck,
the exalted man to whom
Such high attest was given a
while surveyed
With wonder; then, with envy fraught
and rage,
Flies to his place, nor rests, but in mid
air
To council summons all his mighty Peers,
Within thick clouds and dark tenfold involved,
A
gloomy consistory; and them amidst,
With looks aghast
and sad, he thus bespake:--
"O ancient Powers of Air
and this wide World
(For much more willingly I
mention Air,
This our old conquest, than remember
Hell,
Our hated habitation), well ye know
How many
ages, as the years of men,
This Universe we have
possessed, and ruled
In manner at our will the
affairs of Earth,
Since Adam and his facile consort
Eve
Lost Paradise, deceived by me, though since
With dread attending when that fatal wound
Shall be
inflicted by the seed of Eve
Upon my head. Long the
decrees of Heaven
Delay, for longest time to Him is
short;
And now, too soon for us, the circling hours
This dreaded time have compassed, wherein we
Must
bide the stroke of that long-threatened wound
(At
least, if so we can, and by the head
Broken be not
intended all our power
To be infringed, our freedom
and our being
In this fair empire won of Earth and
Air)--
For this ill news I bring: The Woman's Seed,
Destined to this, is late of woman born.
His birth to
our just fear gave no small cause;
But his growth now
to youth's full flower, displaying
All virtue, grace
and wisdom to achieve
Things highest, greatest,
multiplies my fear.
Before him a great Prophet, to
proclaim
His coming, is sent harbinger, who all
Invites, and in the consecrated stream
Pretends to
wash off sin, and fit them so
Purified to receive him
pure, or rather
To do him honour as their King. All
come,
And he himself among them was baptized--
Not
thence to be more pure, but to receive
The testimony
of Heaven, that who he is
Thenceforth the nations may
not doubt. I saw
The Prophet do him reverence; on
him, rising
Out of the water, Heaven above the clouds
Unfold her crystal doors; thence on his head
A perfet
Dove descend (whate'er it meant);
And out of Heaven
the sovraign voice I heard,
'This is my Son
beloved,--in him am pleased.'
His mother, than, is
mortal, but his Sire
He who obtains the monarchy of
Heaven;
And what will He not do to advance his Son?
His first-begot we know, and sore have felt,
When his
fierce thunder drove us to the Deep;
Who this is we
must learn, for Man he seems
In all his lineaments,
though in his face
The glimpses of his Father's glory
shine.
Ye see our danger on the utmost edge
Of
hazard, which admits no long debate,
But must with
something sudden be opposed
(Not force, but
well-couched fraud, well-woven snares),
Ere in the
head of nations he appear,
Their king, their leader,
and supreme on Earth.
I, when no other durst, sole
undertook
The dismal expedition to find out
And
ruin Adam, and the exploit performed
Successfully: a
calmer voyage now
Will waft me; and the way found
prosperous once
Induces best to hope of like
success."
He ended, and his words impression left
Of much amazement to the infernal crew,
Distracted
and surprised with deep dismay
At these sad tidings.
But no time was then
For long indulgence to their
fears or grief:
Unanimous they all commit the care
And management of this man enterprise
To him, their
great Dictator, whose attempt
At first against
mankind so well had thrived
In Adam's overthrow, and
led their march
From Hell's deep-vaulted den to dwell
in light,
Regents, and potentates, and kings, yea
gods,
Of many a pleasant realm and province wide.
So to the coast of Jordan he directs
His easy steps,
girded with snaky wiles,
Where he might likeliest
find this new-declared,
This man of men, attested Son
of God,
Temptation and all guile on him to try--
So to subvert whom he suspected raised
To end his
reign on Earth so long enjoyed:
But, contrary,
unweeting he fulfilled
The purposed counsel,
pre-ordained and fixed,
Of the Most High, who, in
full frequence bright
Of Angels, thus to Gabriel
smiling spake:--
"Gabriel, this day, by proof, thou
shalt behold,
Thou and all Angels conversant on Earth
With Man or men's affairs, how I begin
To verify that
solemn message late,
On which I sent thee to the
Virgin pure
In Galilee, that she should bear a son,
Great in renown, and called the Son of God.
Then
told'st her, doubting how these things could be
To
her a virgin, that on her should come
The Holy Ghost,
and the power of the Highest
O'ershadow her. This
Man, born and now upgrown,
To shew him worthy of his
birth divine
And high prediction, henceforth I expose
To Satan; let him tempt, and now assay
His utmost
subtlety, because he boasts
And vaunts of his great
cunning to the throng
Of his Apostasy. He might have
learnt
Less overweening, since he failed in Job,
Whose constant perseverance overcame
Whate'er his
cruel malice could invent.
He now shall know I can
produce a man,
Of female seed, far abler to resist
All his solicitations, and at length
All his vast
force, and drive him back to Hell--
Winning by
conquest what the first man lost
By fallacy
surprised. But first I mean
To exercise him in the
Wilderness;
There he shall first lay down the
rudiments
Of his great warfare, ere I send him forth
To conquer Sin and Death, the two grand foes.
By
humiliation and strong sufferance
His weakness shall
o'ercome Satanic strength,
And all the world, and
mass of sinful flesh;
That all the Angels and
aethereal Powers--
They now, and men hereafter--may
discern
From what consummate virtue I have chose
This perfet man, by merit called my Son,
To earn
salvation for the sons of men."
So spake the Eternal
Father, and all Heaven
Admiring stood a space; then
into hymns
Burst forth, and in celestial measures
moved,
Circling the throne and singing, while the
hand
Sung with the voice, and this the argument:--
"Victory and triumph to the Son of God,
Now entering
his great duel, not of arms,
But to vanquish by
wisdom hellish wiles!
The Father knows the Son;
therefore secure
Ventures his filial virtue, though
untried,
Against whate'er may tempt, whate'er seduce,
Allure, or terrify, or undermine.
Be frustrate, all
ye stratagems of Hell,
And, devilish machinations,
come to nought!"
So they in Heaven their odes and
vigils tuned.
Meanwhile the Son of God, who yet some
days
Lodged in Bethabara, where John baptized,
Musing and much revolving in his breast
How best the
mighty work he might begin
Of Saviour to mankind, and
which way first
Publish his godlike office now
mature,
One day forth walked alone, the Spirit
leading
And his deep thoughts, the better to converse
With solitude, till, far from track of men,
Thought
following thought, and step by step led on,
He
entered now the bordering Desert wild,
And, with dark
shades and rocks environed round,
His holy
meditations thus pursued:--
"O what a multitude of
thoughts at once
Awakened in me swarm, while I
consider
What from within I feel myself, and hear
What from without comes often to my ears,
Ill sorting
with my present state compared!
When I was yet a
child, no childish play
To me was pleasing; all my
mind was set
Serious to learn and know, and thence to
do,
What might be public good; myself I thought
Born to that end, born to promote all truth,
All
righteous things. Therefore, above my years,
The Law
of God I read, and found it sweet;
Made it my whole
delight, and in it grew
To such perfection that, ere
yet my age
Had measured twice six years, at our great
Feast
I went into the Temple, there to hear
The
teachers of our Law, and to propose
What might
improve my knowledge or their own,
And was admired by
all. Yet this not all
To which my spirit aspired.
Victorious deeds
Flamed in my heart, heroic acts--one
while
To rescue Israel from the Roman yoke;
Then
to subdue and quell, o'er all the earth,
Brute
violence and proud tyrannic power,
Till truth were
freed, and equity restored:
Yet held it more humane,
more heavenly, first
By winning words to conquer
willing hearts,
And make persuasion do the work of
fear;
At least to try, and teach the erring soul,
Not wilfully misdoing, but unware
Misled; the
stubborn only to subdue.
These growing thoughts my
mother soon perceiving,
By words at times cast forth,
inly rejoiced,
And said to me apart, 'High are thy
thoughts,
O Son! but nourish them, and let them soar
To what highth sacred virtue and true worth
Can raise
them, though above example high;
By matchless deeds
express thy matchless Sire.
For know, thou art no son
of mortal man;
Though men esteem thee low of
parentage,
Thy Father is the Eternal King who rules
All Heaven and Earth, Angels and sons of men.
A
messenger from God foretold thy birth
Conceived in me
a virgin; he foretold
Thou shouldst be great, and sit
on David's throne,
And of thy kingdom there should be
no end.
At thy nativity a glorious quire
Of
Angels, in the fields of Bethlehem, sung
To
shepherds, watching at their folds by night,
And told
them the Messiah now was born,
Where they might see
him; and to thee they came,
Directed to the manger
where thou lay'st;
For in the inn was left no better
room.
A Star, not seen before, in heaven appearing,
Guided the Wise Men thither from the East,
To honour
thee with incense, myrrh, and gold;
By whose bright
course led on they found the place,
Affirming it thy
star, new-graven in heaven,
By which they knew thee
King of Israel born.
Just Simeon and prophetic Anna,
warned
By vision, found thee in the Temple, and spake,
Before the altar and the vested priest,
Like things
of thee to all that present stood.'
This having
heart, straight I again revolved
The Law and
Prophets, searching what was writ
Concerning the
Messiah, to our scribes
Known partly, and soon found
of whom they spake
I am--this chiefly, that my way
must lie
Through many a hard assay, even to the
death,
Ere I the promised kingdom can attain,
Or
work redemption for mankind, whose sins'
Full weight
must be transferred upon my head.
Yet, neither thus
disheartened or dismayed,
The time prefixed I waited;
when behold
The Baptist (of whose birth I oft had
heard,
Not knew by sight) now come, who was to come
Before Messiah, and his way prepare!
I, as all
others, to his baptism came,
Which I believed was
from above; but he
Straight knew me, and with loudest
voice proclaimed
Me him (for it was shewn him so from
Heaven)--
Me him whose harbinger he was; and first
Refused on me his baptism to confer,
As much his
greater, and was hardly won.
But, as I rose out of
the laving stream,
Heaven opened her eternal doors,
from whence
The Spirit descended on me like a Dove;
And last, the sum of all, my Father's voice,
Audibly
heard from Heaven, pronounced me his,
Me his beloved
Son, in whom alone
He was well pleased: by which I
knew the time
Now full, that I no more should live
obscure,
But openly begin, as best becomes
The
authority which I derived from Heaven.
And now by
some strong motion I am led
Into this wilderness; to
what intent
I learn not yet. Perhaps I need not know;
For what concerns my knowledge God reveals."
So spake
our Morning Star, then in his rise,
And, looking
round, on every side beheld
A pathless desert, dusk
with horrid shades.
The way he came, not having
marked return,
Was difficult, by human steps untrod;
And he still on was led, but with such thoughts
Accompanied of things past and to come
Lodged in his
breast as well might recommend
Such solitude before
choicest society.
Full forty days he passed--whether
on hill
Sometimes, anon in shady vale, each night
Under the covert of some ancient oak
Or cedar to
defend him from the dew,
Or harboured in one cave, is
not revealed;
Nor tasted human food, nor hunger felt,
Till those days ended; hungered then at last
Among
wild beasts. They at his sight grew mild,
Nor
sleeping him nor waking harmed; his walk
The fiery
serpent fled and noxious worm;
The lion and fierce
tiger glared aloof.
But now an aged man in rural
weeds,
Following, as seemed, the quest of some stray
eye,
Or withered sticks to gather, which might serve
Against a winter's day, when winds blow keen,
To warm
him wet returned from field at eve,
He saw approach;
who first with curious eye
Perused him, then with
words thus uttered spake:--
"Sir, what ill chance
hath brought thee to this place,
So far from path or
road of men, who pass
In troop or caravan? for single
none
Durst ever, who returned, and dropt not here
His carcass, pined with hunger and with droughth.
I
ask the rather, and the more admire,
For that to me
thou seem'st the man whom late
Our new baptizing
Prophet at the ford
Of Jordan honoured so, and called
thee Son
Of God. I saw and heard, for we sometimes
Who dwell this wild, constrained by want, come forth
To town or village nigh (nighest is far),
Where aught
we hear, and curious are to hear,
What happens new;
fame also finds us out."
To whom the Son of
God:--"Who brought me hither
Will bring me hence; no
other guide I seek."
"By miracle he may," replied the
swain;
"What other way I see not; for we here
Live
on tough roots and stubs, to thirst inured
More than
the camel, and to drink go far--
Men to much misery
and hardship born.
But, if thou be the Son of God,
command
That out of these hard stones be made thee
bread;
So shalt thou save thyself, and us relieve
With food, whereof we wretched seldom taste."
He
ended, and the Son of God replied:--
"Think'st thou
such force in bread? Is it not written
(For I discern
thee other than thou seem'st),
Man lives not by bread
only, but each word
Proceeding from the mouth of God,
who fed
Our fathers here with manna? In the Mount
Moses was forty days, nor eat nor drank;
And forty
days Eliah without food
Wandered this barren waste;
the same I now.
Why dost thou, then, suggest to me
distrust
Knowing who I am, as I know who thou art?"
Whom thus answered the Arch-Fiend, now undisguised:--
"'Tis true, I am that Spirit unfortunate
Who, leagued
with millions more in rash revolt,
Kept not my happy
station, but was driven
With them from bliss to the
bottomless Deep--
Yet to that hideous place not so
confined
By rigour unconniving but that oft,
Leaving my dolorous prison, I enjoy
Large liberty to
round this globe of Earth,
Or range in the Air; nor
from the Heaven of Heavens
Hath he excluded my resort
sometimes.
I came, among the Sons of God, when he
Gave up into my hands Uzzean Job,
To prove him, and
illustrate his high worth;
And, when to all his
Angels he proposed
To draw the proud king Ahab into
fraud,
That he might fall in Ramoth, they demurring,
I undertook that office, and the tongues
Of all his
flattering prophets glibbed with lies
To his
destruction, as I had in charge:
For what he bids I
do. Though I have lost
Much lustre of my native
brightness, lost
To be beloved of God, I have not
lost
To love, at least contemplate and admire,
What I see excellent in good, or fair,
Or virtuous; I
should so have lost all sense.
What can be then less
in me than desire
To see thee and approach thee, whom
I know
Declared the Son of God, to hear attent
Thy
wisdom, and behold thy godlike deeds?
Men generally
think me much a foe
To all mankind. Why should I?
they to me
Never did wrong or violence. By them
I
lost not what I lost; rather by them
I gained what I
have gained, and with them dwell
Copartner in these
regions of the World,
If not disposer--lend them oft
my aid,
Oft my advice by presages and signs,
And
answers, oracles, portents, and dreams,
Whereby they
may direct their future life.
Envy, they say, excites
me, thus to gain
Companions of my misery and woe!
At first it may be; but, long since with woe
Nearer
acquainted, now I feel by proof
That fellowship in
pain divides not smart,
Nor lightens aught each man's
peculiar load;
Small consolation, then, were Man
adjoined.
This wounds me most (what can it less?)
that Man,
Man fallen, shall be restored, I never
more."
To whom our Saviour sternly thus replied:--
"Deservedly thou griev'st, composed of lies
From the
beginning, and in lies wilt end,
Who boast'st release
from Hell, and leave to come
Into the Heaven of
Heavens. Thou com'st, indeed,
As a poor miserable
captive thrall
Comes to the place where he before had
sat
Among the prime in splendour, now deposed,
Ejected, emptied, gazed, unpitied, shunned,
A
spectacle of ruin, or of scorn,
To all the host of
Heaven. The happy place
Imparts to thee no happiness,
no joy--
Rather inflames thy torment, representing
Lost bliss, to thee no more communicable;
So never
more in Hell than when in Heaven.
But thou art
serviceable to Heaven's King!
Wilt thou impute to
obedience what thy fear
Extorts, or pleasure to do
ill excites?
What but thy malice moved thee to
misdeem
Of righteous Job, then cruelly to afflict him
With all inflictions? but his patience won.
The other
service was thy chosen task,
To be a liar in four
hundred mouths;
For lying is thy sustenance, thy
food.
Yet thou pretend'st to truth! all oracles
By
thee are given, and what confessed more true
Among
the nations? That hath been thy craft,
By mixing
somewhat true to vent more lies.
But what have been
thy answers? what but dark,
Ambiguous, and with
double sense deluding,
Which they who asked have
seldom understood,
And, not well understood, as good
not known?
Who ever, by consulting at thy shrine,
Returned the wiser, or the more instruct
To fly or
follow what concerned him most,
And run not sooner to
his fatal snare?
For God hath justly given the
nations up
To thy delusions; justly, since they fell
Idolatrous. But, when his purpose is
Among them to
declare his providence,
To thee not known, whence
hast thou then thy truth,
But from him, or his Angels
president
In every province, who, themselves
disdaining
To approach thy temples, give thee in
command
What, to the smallest tittle, thou shalt say
To thy adorers? Thou, with trembling fear,
Or like a
fawning parasite, obey'st;
Then to thyself ascrib'st
the truth foretold.
But this thy glory shall be soon
retrenched;
No more shalt thou by oracling abuse
The Gentiles; henceforth oracles are ceased,
And thou
no more with pomp and sacrifice
Shalt be enquired at
Delphos or elsewhere--
At least in vain, for they
shall find thee mute.
God hath now sent his living
Oracle
Into the world to teach his final will,
And
sends his Spirit of Truth henceforth to dwell
In
pious hearts, an inward oracle
To all truth requisite
for men to know."
So spake our Saviour; but the
subtle Fiend,
Though inly stung with anger and
disdain,
Dissembled, and this answer smooth
returned:--
"Sharply thou hast insisted on rebuke,
And urged me hard with doings which not will,
But
misery, hath wrested from me. Where
Easily canst thou
find one miserable,
And not inforced oft-times to
part from truth,
If it may stand him more in stead to
lie,
Say and unsay, feign, flatter, or abjure?
But
thou art placed above me; thou art Lord;
From thee I
can, and must, submiss, endure
Cheek or reproof, and
glad to scape so quit.
Hard are the ways of truth,
and rough to walk,
Smooth on the tongue discoursed,
pleasing to the ear,
And tunable as sylvan pipe or
song;
What wonder, then, if I delight to hear
Her
dictates from thy mouth? most men admire
Virtue who
follow not her lore. Permit me
To hear thee when I
come (since no man comes),
And talk at least, though
I despair to attain.
Thy Father, who is holy, wise,
and pure,
Suffers the hypocrite or atheous priest
To tread his sacred courts, and minister
About his
altar, handling holy things,
Praying or vowing, and
voutsafed his voice
To Balaam reprobate, a prophet
yet
Inspired: disdain not such access to me."
To
whom our Saviour, with unaltered brow:--
"Thy coming
hither, though I know thy scope,
I bid not, or
forbid. Do as thou find'st
Permission from above;
thou canst not more."
He added not; and Satan,
bowling low
His gray dissimulation, disappeared,
Into thin air diffused: for now began
Night with her
sullen wing to double-shade
The desert; fowls in
their clay nests were couched;
And now wild beasts
came forth the woods to roam.
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