The punishment all on thy self; alas,
   Beare thine own first, ill able to sustaine
   His full wrauth whose thou feelst as yet lest part,
   And my displeasure bearst so ill. If Prayers
   Could alter high Decrees, I to that place
   Would speed before thee, and be louder heard,
   That on my head all might be visited,
   Thy frailtie and infirmer Sex forgiv'n,
   To me committed and by me expos'd.
   But rise, let us no more contend, nor blame
   Each other, blam'd enough elsewhere, but strive
   In offices of Love, how we may light'n
   Each others burden in our share of woe;
   Since this days Death denounc't, if ought I see,
   Will prove no sudden, but a slow-pac't evill,
   A long days dying to augment our paine,
   And to our Seed (O hapless Seed!) deriv'd.
   To whom thus EVE, recovering heart, repli'd.
   ADAM, by sad experiment I know
   How little weight my words with thee can finde,
   Found so erroneous, thence by just event
   Found so unfortunate; nevertheless,
   Restor'd by thee, vile as I am, to place
   Of new acceptance, hopeful to regaine
   Thy Love, the sole contentment of my heart,
   Living or dying from thee I will not hide
   What thoughts in my unquiet brest are ris'n,
   Tending to som relief of our extremes,
   Or end, though sharp and sad, yet tolerable,
   As in our evils, and of easier choice.
   If care of our descent perplex us most,
   Which must be born to certain woe, devourd
   By Death at last, and miserable it is
   To be to others cause of misery,
   Our own begotten, and of our Loines to bring
   Into this cursed World a woful Race,
   That after wretched Life must be at last
   Food for so foule a Monster, in thy power
   It lies, yet ere Conception to prevent
   The Race unblest, to being yet unbegot.
   Childless thou art, Childless remaine:
   So Death shall be deceav'd his glut, and with us two
   Be forc'd to satisfie his Rav'nous Maw.
   But if thou judge it hard and difficult,
   Conversing, looking, loving, to abstain
   From Loves due Rites, Nuptial embraces sweet,
   And with desire to languish without hope,
   Before the present object languishing
   With like desire, which would be miserie
   And torment less then none of what we dread,
   Then both our selves and Seed at once to free
   From what we fear for both, let us make short,
   Let us seek Death, or hee not found, supply
   With our own hands his Office on our selves;
   Why stand we longer shivering under feares,
   That shew no end but Death, and have the power,
   Of many wayes to die the shortest choosing,
   Destruction with destruction to destroy.
   She ended heer, or vehement despaire
   Broke off the rest; so much of Death her thoughts
   Had entertaind, as di'd her Cheeks with pale.
   But ADAM with such counsel nothing sway'd,
   To better hopes his more attentive minde
   Labouring had rais'd, and thus to EVE repli'd.
   EVE, thy contempt of life and pleasure seems
   To argue in thee somthing more sublime
   And excellent then what thy minde contemnes;
   But self-destruction therefore saught, refutes
   That excellence thought in thee, and implies,
   Not thy contempt, but anguish and regret
   For loss of life and pleasure overlov'd.
   Or if thou covet death, as utmost end
   Of miserie, so thinking to evade
   The penaltie pronounc't, doubt not but God
   Hath wiselier arm'd his vengeful ire then so
   To be forestall'd; much more I fear least Death
   So snatcht will not exempt us from the paine
   We are by doom to pay; rather such acts
   Of contumacie will provoke the highest
   To make death in us live: Then let us seek
   Som safer resolution, which methinks
   I have in view, calling to minde with heed
   Part of our Sentence, that thy Seed shall bruise
   The Serpents head; piteous amends, unless
   Be meant, whom I conjecture, our grand Foe
   SATAN, who in the Serpent hath contriv'd
   Against us this deceit: to crush his head
   Would be revenge indeed; which will be lost
   By death brought on our selves, or childless days
   Resolv'd, as thou proposest; so our Foe
   Shall scape his punishment ordain'd, and wee
   Instead shall double ours upon our heads.
   No more be mention'd then of violence
   Against our selves, and wilful barrenness,
   That cuts us off from hope, and savours onely
   Rancor and pride, impatience and despite,
   Reluctance against God and his just yoke
   Laid on our Necks. Remember with what mild
   And gracious temper he both heard and judg'd
   Without wrauth or reviling; wee expected
   Immediate dissolution, which we thought
   Was meant by Death that day, when lo, to thee
   Pains onely in Child-bearing were foretold,
   And bringing forth, soon recompenc't with joy,
   Fruit of thy Womb: On mee the Curse aslope
   Glanc'd on the ground, with labour I must earne
   My bread; what harm? Idleness had bin worse;
   My labour will sustain me; and least Cold
   Or Heat should injure us, his timely care
   Hath unbesaught provided, and his hands
   Cloath'd us unworthie, pitying while he judg'd;
   How much more, if we pray him, will his ear
   Be open, and his heart to pitie incline,
   And teach us further by what means to shun
   Th' inclement Seasons, Rain, Ice, Hail and Snow,
   Which now the Skie with various Face begins
   To shew us in this Mountain, while the Winds
   Blow moist and keen, shattering the graceful locks
   Of these fair spreading Trees; which bids us seek
   Som better shroud, som better warmth to cherish
   Our Limbs benumm'd, ere this diurnal Starr
   Leave cold the Night, how we his gather'd beams
   Reflected, may with matter sere foment,
   Or by collision of two bodies grinde
   The Air attrite to Fire, as late the Clouds
   Justling or pusht with Winds rude in thir shock
   Tine the slant Lightning, whose thwart flame driv'n down
   Kindles the gummie bark of Firr or Pine,
   And sends a comfortable heat from farr,
   Which might supplie the Sun: such Fire to use,
   And what may else be remedie or cure
   To evils which our own misdeeds have wrought,
   Hee will instruct us praying, and of Grace
   Beseeching him, so as we need not fear
   To pass commodiously this life, sustain'd
   By him with many comforts, till we end
   In dust, our final rest and native home.
   What better can we do, then to the place
   Repairing where he judg'd us, prostrate fall
   Before him reverent, and there confess
   Humbly our faults, and pardon beg, with tears
   VVatering the ground, and with our sighs the Air
   Frequenting, sent from hearts contrite, in sign
   Of sorrow unfeign'd, and humiliation meek.
   Undoubtedly he will relent and turn
   From his displeasure; in whose look serene,
   VVhen angry most he seem'd and most severe,
   VVhat else but favor, grace, and mercie shon?
   So spake our Father penitent, nor EVE
   Felt less remorse: they forthwith to the place
   Repairing where he judg'd them prostrate fell
   Before him reverent, and both confess'd
   Humbly thir faults, and pardon beg'd, with tears
   VVatering the ground, and with thir sighs the Air
   Frequenting, sent from hearts contrite, in sign
   Of sorrow unfeign'd, and humiliation meek.

BOOK X.

   Thus they in lowliest plight repentant stood
   Praying, for from the Mercie-seat above
   Prevenient Grace descending had remov'd
   The stonie from thir hearts, and made new flesh
   Regenerat grow instead, that sighs now breath'd
   Unutterable, which the Spirit of prayer
   Inspir'd, and wing'd for Heav'n with speedier flight
   Then loudest Oratorie: yet thir port
   Not of mean suiters, nor important less
   Seem'd thir Petition, then when th' ancient Pair
   In Fables old, less ancient yet then these,
   DEUCALION and chaste PYRRHA to restore
   The Race of Mankind drownd, before the Shrine
   Of THEMIS stood devout. To Heav'n thir prayers
   Flew up, nor missed the way, by envious windes
   Blow'n vagabond or frustrate: in they passd
   Dimentionless through Heav'nly dores; then clad
   With incense, where the Golden Altar fum'd,
   By thir great Intercessor, came in sight
   Before the Fathers Throne: Them the glad Son
   Presenting, thus to intercede began.
   See Father, what first fruits on Earth are sprung
   From thy implanted Grace in Man, these Sighs
   And Prayers, which in this Golden Censer, mixt
   With Incense, I thy Priest before thee bring,
   Fruits of more pleasing savour from thy seed
   Sow'n with contrition in his heart, then those
   Which his own hand manuring all the Trees
   Of Paradise could have produc't, ere fall'n
   From innocence. Now therefore bend thine eare
   To supplication, heare his sighs though mute;
   Unskilful with what words to pray, let mee
   Interpret for him, mee his Advocate
   And propitiation, all his works on mee
   Good or not good ingraft, my Merit those
   Shall perfet, and for these my Death shall pay.
   Accept me, and in mee from these receave
   The smell of peace toward Mankinde, let him live
   Before thee reconcil'd, at least his days
   Numberd, though sad, till Death, his doom (which I
   To mitigate thus plead, not to reverse)
   To better life shall yeeld him, where with mee
   All my redeemd may dwell in joy and bliss,
   Made one with me as I with thee am one.
   To whom the Father, without Cloud, serene.
   All thy request for Man, accepted Son,
   Obtain, all thy request was my Decree:
   But longer in that Paradise to dwell,
   The Law I gave to Nature him forbids:
   Those pure immortal Elements that know
   No gross, no unharmoneous mixture foule,
   Eject him tainted now, and purge him off
   As a distemper, gross to aire as gross,
   And mortal food, as may dispose him best
   For dissolution wrought by Sin, that first
   Distemperd all things, and of incorrupt
   Corrupted. I at first with two fair gifts
   Created him endowd, with Happiness
   And Immortalitie: that fondly lost,
   This other serv'd but to eternize woe;
   Till I provided Death; so Death becomes
   His final remedie, and after Life
   Tri'd in sharp tribulation, and refin'd
   By Faith and faithful works, to second Life,
   Wak't in the renovation of the just,
   Resignes him up with Heav'n and Earth renewd.
   But let us call to Synod all the Blest
   Through Heav'ns wide bounds; from them I will not hide
   My judgments, how with Mankind I proceed,
   As how with peccant Angels late they saw;
   And in thir state, though firm, stood more confirmd.
   He ended, and the Son gave signal high
   To the bright Minister that watchd, hee blew
   His Trumpet, heard in OREB since perhaps
   When God descended, and perhaps once more
   To sound at general Doom. Th' Angelic blast
   Filld all the Regions: from thir blissful Bowrs
   Of AMARANTIN Shade, Fountain or Spring,
   By the waters of Life, where ere they sate
   In fellowships of joy: the Sons of Light
   Hasted, resorting to the Summons high,
   And took thir Seats; till from his Throne supream
   Th' Almighty thus pronounced his sovran Will.
   O Sons, like one of us Man is become
   To know both Good and Evil, since his taste
   Of that defended Fruit; but let him boast
   His knowledge of Good lost, and Evil got,
   Happier, had it suffic'd him to have known
   Good by it self, and Evil not at all.
   He sorrows now, repents, and prayes contrite,
   My motions in him, longer then they move,
   His heart I know, how variable and vain
   Self-left. Least therefore his now bolder hand
   Reach also of the Tree of Life, and eat,
   And live for ever, dream at least to live
   Forever, to remove him I decree,
   And send him from the Garden forth to Till
   The Ground whence he was taken, fitter soile.
   MICHAEL, this my behest have thou in charge,
   Take to thee from among the Cherubim
   Thy choice of flaming Warriours, least the Fiend
   Or in behalf of Man, or to invade
   Vacant possession som new trouble raise:
   Hast thee, and from the Paradise of God
   Without remorse drive out the sinful Pair,
   From hallowd ground th' unholie, and denounce
   To them and to thir Progenie from thence
   Perpetual banishment. Yet least they faint
   At the sad Sentence rigorously urg'd,
   For I behold them soft'nd and with tears
   Bewailing thir excess, all terror hide.
   If patiently thy bidding they obey,
   Dismiss them not disconsolate; reveale
   To ADAM what shall come in future dayes,
   As I shall thee enlighten, intermix
   My Cov'nant in the Womans seed renewd;
   So send them forth, though sorrowing, yet in peace:
   And on the East side of the Garden place,
   Where entrance up from EDEN easiest climbes,
   Cherubic watch, and of a Sword the flame
   Wide waving, all approach farr off to fright,
   And guard all passage to the Tree of Life:
   Least Paradise a receptacle prove
   To Spirits foule, and all my Trees thir prey,
   With whose stol'n Fruit Man once more to delude.
   He ceas'd; and th' Archangelic Power prepar'd
   For swift descent, with him the Cohort bright
   Of watchful Cherubim; four faces each
   Had, like a double JANUS, all thir shape
   Spangl'd with eyes more numerous then those
   Of ARGUS, and more wakeful then to drouze,
   Charm'd with ARCADIAN Pipe, the Pastoral Reed
   Of HERMES, or his opiate Rod. Meanwhile
   To resalute the World with sacred Light
   LEUCOTHEA wak'd, and with fresh dews imbalmd
   The Earth, when ADAM and first Matron EVE
   Had ended now thir Orisons, and found,
   Strength added from above, new hope to spring
   Out of despaire, joy, but with fear yet linkt;
   Which thus to EVE his welcome words renewd.
   EVE, easily may Faith admit, that all
   The good which we enjoy, from Heav'n descends
   But that from us ought should ascend to Heav'n
   So prevalent as to concerne the mind
   Of God high blest, or to incline his will,
   Hard to belief may seem; yet this will Prayer,
   Or one short sigh of humane breath, up-borne
   Ev'n to the Seat of God. For since I saught
   By Prayer th' offended Deitie to appease,
   Kneel'd and before him humbl'd all my heart,
   Methought I saw him placable and mild,
   Bending his eare; perswasion in me grew
   That I was heard with favour; peace returnd
   Home to my brest, and to my memorie
   His promise, that thy Seed shall bruise our Foe;
   Which then not minded in dismay, yet now
   Assures me that the bitterness of death
   Is past, and we shall live. Whence Haile to thee,
   EVE rightly call'd, Mother of all Mankind,
   Mother of all things living, since by thee
   Man is to live, and all things live for Man.
   To whom thus EVE with sad demeanour meek.
   Ill worthie I such title should belong
   To me transgressour, who for thee ordaind
   A help, became thy snare; to mee reproach
   Rather belongs, distrust and all dispraise:
   But infinite in pardon was my Judge,
   That I who first brought Death on all, am grac't
   The sourse of life; next favourable thou,
   Who highly thus to entitle me voutsaf't,
   Farr other name deserving. But the Field
   To labour calls us now with sweat impos'd,
   Though after sleepless Night; for see the Morn,
   All unconcern'd with our unrest, begins
   Her rosie progress smiling; let us forth,
   I never from thy side henceforth to stray,
   Wherere our days work lies, though now enjoind
   Laborious, till day droop; while here we dwell,
   What can be toilsom in these pleasant Walkes?
   Here let us live, though in fall'n state, content.
   So spake, so wish'd much-humbl'd EVE, but Fate
   Subscrib'd not; Nature first gave Signs, imprest
   On Bird, Beast, Aire, Aire suddenly eclips'd
   After short blush of Morn; nigh in her sight
   The Bird of JOVE, stoopt from his aerie tour,
   Two Birds of gayest plume before him drove:
   Down from a Hill the Beast that reigns in Woods,
   First Hunter then, pursu'd a gentle brace,
   Goodliest of all the Forrest, Hart and Hinde;
   Direct to th' Eastern Gate was bent thir flight.
   ADAM observ'd, and with his Eye the chase
   Pursuing, not unmov'd to EVE thus spake.
   O EVE, some furder change awaits us nigh,
   Which Heav'n by these mute signs in Nature shews
   Forerunners of his purpose, or to warn
   Us haply too secure of our discharge
   From penaltie, because from death releast
   Some days; how long, and what till then our life,
   Who knows, or more then this, that we are dust,
   And thither must return and be no more.
   VVhy else this double object in our sight
   Of flight pursu'd in th' Air and ore the ground
   One way the self-same hour? why in the East
   Darkness ere Dayes mid-course, and Morning light
   More orient in yon VVestern Cloud that draws
   O're the blew Firmament a radiant white,
   And slow descends, with somthing heav'nly fraught.
   He err'd not, for by this the heav'nly Bands
   Down from a Skie of Jasper lighted now
   In Paradise, and on a Hill made alt,
   A glorious Apparition, had not doubt
   And carnal fear that day dimm'd ADAMS eye.
   Not that more glorious, when the Angels met
   JACOB in MAHANAIM, where he saw
   The field Pavilion'd with his Guardians bright;
   Nor that which on the flaming Mount appeerd
   In DOTHAN, cover'd with a Camp of Fire,
   Against the SYRIAN King, who to surprize
   One man, Assassin-like had levied Warr,
   Warr unproclam'd. The Princely Hierarch
   In thir bright stand, there left his Powers to seise
   Possession of the Garden; hee alone,
   To finde where ADAM shelterd, took his way,
   Not unperceav'd of ADAM, who to EVE,
   While the great Visitant approachd, thus spake.
   EVE, now expect great tidings, which perhaps
   Of us will soon determin, or impose
   New Laws to be observ'd; for I descrie
   From yonder blazing Cloud that veils the Hill
   One of the heav'nly Host, and by his Gate
   None of the meanest, some great Potentate
   Or of the Thrones above, such Majestie
   Invests him coming; yet not terrible,
   That I should fear, nor sociably mild,
   As RAPHAEL, that I should much confide,
   But solemn and sublime, whom not to offend,
   With reverence I must meet, and thou retire.
   He ended; and th' Arch-Angel soon drew nigh,
   Not in his shape Celestial, but as Man
   Clad to meet Man; over his lucid Armes
   A militarie Vest of purple flowd
   Livelier then MELIBOEAN, or the graine
   Of SARRA, worn by Kings and Hero's old
   In time of Truce; IRIS had dipt the wooff;
   His starrie Helme unbuckl'd shew'd him prime
   In Manhood where Youth ended; by his side
   As in a glistering ZODIAC hung the Sword,
   Satans dire dread, and in his hand the Spear.
   ADAM bowd low, hee Kingly from his State
   Inclin'd not, but his coming thus declar'd.
   ADAM, Heav'ns high behest no Preface needs:
   Sufficient that thy Prayers are heard, and Death,
   Then due by sentence when thou didst transgress,
   Defeated of his seisure many dayes
   Giv'n thee of Grace, wherein thou may'st repent,
   And one bad act with many deeds well done
   Mayst cover: well may then thy Lord appeas'd
   Redeem thee quite from Deaths rapacious claimes;
   But longer in this Paradise to dwell
   Permits not; to remove thee I am come,
   And send thee from the Garden forth to till
   The ground whence thou wast tak'n, fitter Soile.
   He added not, for ADAM at the newes
   Heart-strook with chilling gripe of sorrow stood,
   That all his senses bound; EVE, who unseen
   Yet all had heard, with audible lament
   Discover'd soon the place of her retire.
   O unexpected stroke, worse then of Death!
   Must I thus leave thee Paradise? thus leave
   Thee Native Soile, these happie Walks and Shades,
   Fit haunt of Gods? where I had hope to spend,
   Quiet though sad, the respit of that day
   That must be mortal to us both. O flours,
   That never will in other Climate grow,
   My early visitation, and my last
   At Eev'n, which I bred up with tender hand
   From the first op'ning bud, and gave ye Names,
   Who now shall reare ye to the Sun, or ranke
   Your Tribes, and water from th' ambrosial Fount?
   Thee lastly nuptial Bowre, by mee adornd
   With what to sight or smell was sweet; from thee
   How shall I part, and whither wander down
   Into a lower World, to this obscure
   And wilde, how shall we breath in other Aire
   Less pure, accustomd to immortal Fruits?
   Whom thus the Angel interrupted milde.
   Lament not EVE, but patiently resigne
   What justly thou hast lost; nor set thy heart,
   Thus over fond, on that which is not thine;
   Thy going is not lonely, with thee goes
   Thy Husband, him to follow thou art bound;
   Where he abides, think there thy native soile.
   ADAM by this from the cold sudden damp
   Recovering, and his scatterd spirits returnd,
   To MICHAEL thus his humble words addressd.
   Celestial, whether among the Thrones, or nam'd
   Of them the Highest, for such of shape may seem
   Prince above Princes, gently hast thou tould
   Thy message, which might else in telling wound,
   And in performing end us; what besides
   Of sorrow and dejection and despair
   Our frailtie can sustain, thy tidings bring,
   Departure from this happy place, our sweet
   Recess, and onely consolation left
   Familiar to our eyes, all places else
   Inhospitable appeer and desolate,
   Nor knowing us nor known: and if by prayer
   Incessant I could hope to change the will
   Of him who all things can, I would not cease
   To wearie him with my assiduous cries:
   But prayer against his absolute Decree
   No more availes then breath against the winde,
   Blown stifling back on him that breaths it forth:
   Therefore to his great bidding I submit.
   This most afflicts me, that departing hence,
   As from his face I shall be hid, deprivd
   His blessed count'nance; here I could frequent,
   With worship, place by place where he voutsaf'd
   Presence Divine, and to my Sons relate;
   On this Mount he appeerd, under this Tree
   Stood visible, among these Pines his voice
   I heard, here with him at this Fountain talk'd:
   So many grateful Altars I would reare
   Of grassie Terfe, and pile up every Stone
   Of lustre from the brook, in memorie,
   Or monument to Ages, and thereon
   Offer sweet smelling Gumms & Fruits and Flours:
   In yonder nether World where shall I seek
   His bright appearances, or footstep trace?
   For though I fled him angrie, yet recall'd
   To life prolongd and promisd Race, I now
   Gladly behold though but his utmost skirts
   Of glory, and farr off his steps adore.
   To whom thus MICHAEL with regard benigne.
   ADAM, thou know'st Heav'n his, and all the Earth
   Not this Rock onely; his Omnipresence fills
   Land, Sea, and Aire, and every kinde that lives,
   Fomented by his virtual power and warmd:
   All th' Earth he gave thee to possess and rule,
   No despicable gift; surmise not then
   His presence to these narrow bounds confin'd
   Of Paradise or EDEN: this had been
   Perhaps thy Capital Seate, from whence had spred
   All generations, and had hither come
   From all the ends of th' Earth, to celebrate
   And reverence thee thir great Progenitor.
   But this praeeminence thou hast lost, brought down
   To dwell on eeven ground now with thy Sons:
   Yet doubt not but in Vallie and in Plaine
   God is as here, and will be found alike
   Present, and of his presence many a signe
   Still following thee, still compassing thee round
   With goodness and paternal Love, his Face
   Express, and of his steps the track Divine.
   Which that thou mayst beleeve, and be confirmd,
   Ere thou from hence depart, know I am sent
   To shew thee what shall come in future dayes
   To thee and to thy Ofspring; good with bad
   Expect to hear, supernal Grace contending
   With sinfulness of Men; thereby to learn
   True patience, and to temper joy with fear
   And pious sorrow, equally enur'd
   By moderation either state to beare,
   Prosperous or adverse: so shalt thou lead
   Safest thy life, and best prepar'd endure
   Thy mortal passage when it comes. Ascend
   This Hill; let EVE (for I have drencht her eyes)
   Here sleep below while thou to foresight wak'st,
   As once thou slepst, while Shee to life was formd.
   To whom thus ADAM gratefully repli'd.
   Ascend, I follow thee, safe Guide, the path
   Thou lead'st me, and to the hand of Heav'n submit,
   However chast'ning, to the evil turne
   My obvious breast, arming to overcom
   By suffering, and earne rest from labour won,
   If so I may attain. So both ascend
   In the Visions of God: It was a Hill
   Of Paradise the highest, from whose top
   The Hemisphere of Earth in cleerest Ken
   Stretcht out to amplest reach of prospect lay.
   Not higher that Hill nor wider looking round,
   Whereon for different cause the Tempter set
   Our second ADAM in the Wilderness,
   To shew him all Earths Kingdomes and thir Glory.
   His Eye might there command wherever stood
   City of old or modern Fame, the Seat
   Of mightiest Empire, from the destind Walls
   Of CAMBALU, seat of CATHAIAN CAN
   And SAMARCHAND by OXUS, TEMIRS Throne,
   To PAQUIN of SINAEAN Kings, and thence
   To AGRA and LAHOR of great MOGUL
   Down to the golden CHERSONESE, or where
   The PERSIAN in ECBATAN sate, or since
   In HISPAHAN, or where the RUSSIAN KSAR
   In MOSCO, or the Sultan in BIZANCE,
   TURCHESTAN-born; nor could his eye not ken
   Th' Empire of NEGUS to his utmost Port
   ERCOCO and the less Maritine Kings
   MOMBAZA, and QUILOA, and MELIND,
   And SOFALA thought OPHIR, to the Realme
   Of CONGO, and ANGOLA fardest South;
   Or thence from NIGER Flood to ATLAS Mount
   The Kingdoms of ALMANSOR, FEZ, and SUS,
   MAROCCO and ALGIERS, and TREMISEN;
   On EUROPE thence, and where ROME was to sway
   The VVorld: in Spirit perhaps he also saw
   Rich MEXICO the seat of MOTEZUME,
   And CUSCO in PERU, the richer seat
   Of ATABALIPA, and yet unspoil'd
   GUIANA, whose great Citie GERYONS Sons
   Call EL DORADO: but to nobler sights
   MICHAEL from ADAMS eyes the Filme remov'd
   VVhich that false Fruit that promis'd clearer sight
   Had bred; then purg'd with Euphrasie and Rue
   The visual Nerve, for he had much to see;
   And from the VVell of Life three drops instill'd.
   So deep the power of these Ingredients pierc'd,
   Eevn to the inmost seat of mental sight,
   That ADAM now enforc't to close his eyes,
   Sunk down and all his Spirits became intranst:
   But him the gentle Angel by the hand
   Soon rais'd, and his attention thus recall'd.
   ADAM, now ope thine eyes, and first behold
   Th' effects which thy original crime hath wrought
   In some to spring from thee, who never touch'd
   Th' excepted Tree, nor with the Snake conspir'd,
   Nor sinn'd thy sin, yet from that sin derive
   Corruption to bring forth more violent deeds.
   His eyes he op'nd, and beheld a field,
   Part arable and tilth, whereon were Sheaves
   New reapt, the other part sheep-walks and foulds;
   Ith' midst an Altar as the Land-mark stood
   Rustic, of grassie sord; thither anon
   A sweatie Reaper from his Tillage brought
   First Fruits, the green Eare, and the yellow Sheaf,
   Uncull'd, as came to hand; a Shepherd next
   More meek came with the Firstlings of his Flock
   Choicest and best; then sacrificing, laid
   The Inwards and thir Fat, with Incense strew'd,
   On the cleft Wood, and all due Rites perform'd.
   His Offring soon propitious Fire from Heav'n
   Consum'd with nimble glance, and grateful steame;
   The others not, for his was not sincere;
   Whereat hee inlie rag'd, and as they talk'd,
   Smote him into the Midriff with a stone
   That beat out life; he fell, and deadly pale
   Groand out his Soul with gushing bloud effus'd.
   Much at that sight was ADAM in his heart
   Dismai'd, and thus in haste to th' Angel cri'd.
   O Teacher, some great mischief hath befall'n
   To that meek man, who well had sacrific'd;
   Is Pietie thus and pure Devotion paid?
   T' whom MICHAEL thus, hee also mov'd, repli'd.
   These two are Brethren, ADAM, and to come
   Out of thy loyns; th' unjust the just hath slain,
   For envie that his Brothers Offering found
   From Heav'n acceptance; but the bloodie Fact
   Will be aveng'd, and th' others Faith approv'd
   Loose no reward, though here thou see him die,
   Rowling in dust and gore. To which our Sire.
   Alas, both for the deed and for the cause!
   But have I now seen Death? Is this the way
   I must return to native dust? O sight
   Of terrour, foul and ugly to behold,
   Horrid to think, how horrible to feel!
   To whom thus MICHAEL. Death thou hast seen
   In his first shape on man; but many shapes
   Of Death, and many are the wayes that lead
   To his grim Cave, all dismal; yet to sense
   More terrible at th' entrance then within.
   Some, as thou saw'st, by violent stroke shall die,
   By Fire, Flood, Famin, by Intemperance more
   In Meats and Drinks, which on the Earth shal bring
   Diseases dire, of which a monstrous crew
   Before thee shall appear; that thou mayst know
   What miserie th' inabstinence of EVE
   Shall bring on men. Immediately a place
   Before his eyes appeard, sad, noysom, dark,
   A Lazar-house it seemd, wherein were laid
   Numbers of all diseas'd, all maladies
   Of gastly Spasm, or racking torture, qualmes
   Of heart-sick Agonie, all feavorous kinds,
   Convulsions, Epilepsies, fierce Catarrhs,
   Intestin Stone and Ulcer, Colic pangs,
   Dropsies, and Asthma's, and Joint-racking Rheums.
   Dire was the tossing, deep the groans, despair
   Tended the sick busiest from Couch to Couch;
   And over them triumphant Death his Dart
   Shook, but delaid to strike, though oft invok't
   With vows, as thir chief good, and final hope.
   Sight so deform what heart of Rock could long
   Drie-ey'd behold? ADAM could not, but wept,
   Though not of Woman born; compassion quell'd
   His best of Man, and gave him up to tears
   A space, till firmer thoughts restraind excess,
   And scarce recovering words his plaint renew'd.
   O miserable Mankind, to what fall
   Degraded, to what wretched state reserv'd?
   Better end heer unborn. Why is life giv'n
   To be thus wrested from us? rather why
   Obtruded on us thus? who if we knew
   What we receive, would either not accept
   Life offer'd, or soon beg to lay it down,
   Glad to be so dismist in peace. Can thus
   Th' Image of God in man created once
   So goodly and erect, though faultie since,
   To such unsightly sufferings be debas't
   Under inhuman pains? Why should not Man,
   Retaining still Divine similitude
   In part, from such deformities be free,
   And for his Makers Image sake exempt?
   Thir Makers Image, answerd MICHAEL, then
   Forsook them, when themselves they villifi'd
   To serve ungovern'd appetite, and took
   His Image whom they serv'd, a brutish vice,
   Inductive mainly to the sin of EVE.
   Therefore so abject is thir punishment,
   Disfiguring not Gods likeness, but thir own,
   Or if his likeness, by themselves defac't
   While they pervert pure Natures healthful rules
   To loathsom sickness, worthily, since they
   Gods Image did not reverence in themselves.
   I yeild it just, said ADAM, and submit.
   But is there yet no other way, besides
   These painful passages, how we may come
   To Death, and mix with our connatural dust?
   There is, said MICHAEL, if thou well observe
   The rule of not too much, by temperance taught
   In what thou eatst and drinkst, seeking from thence
   Due nourishment, not gluttonous delight,
   Till many years over thy head return:
   So maist thou live, till like ripe Fruit thou drop
   Into thy Mothers lap, or be with ease
   Gatherd, not harshly pluckt, for death mature:
   This is old age; but then thou must outlive
   Thy youth, thy strength, thy beauty, which will change
   To witherd weak & gray; thy Senses then
   Obtuse, all taste of pleasure must forgoe,
   To what thou hast, and for the Aire of youth
   Hopeful and cheerful, in thy blood will reigne
   A melancholly damp of cold and dry
   To waigh thy spirits down, and last consume
   The Balme of Life. To whom our Ancestor.
   Henceforth I flie not Death, nor would prolong
   Life much, bent rather how I may be quit
   Fairest and easiest of this combrous charge,
   Which I must keep till my appointed day
   Of rendring up. MICHAEL to him repli'd.
   Nor love thy Life, nor hate; but what thou livst
   Live well, how long or short permit to Heav'n:
   And now prepare thee for another sight.
   He lookd and saw a spacious Plaine, whereon
   Were Tents of various hue; by some were herds
   Of Cattel grazing: others, whence the sound
   Of Instruments that made melodious chime
   Was heard, of Harp and Organ; and who moovd
   Thir stops and chords was seen: his volant touch
   Instinct through all proportions low and high
   Fled and pursu'd transverse the resonant fugue.
   In other part stood one who at the Forge
   Labouring, two massie clods of Iron and Brass
   Had melted (whether found where casual fire
   Had wasted woods on Mountain or in Vale,
   Down to the veins of Earth, thence gliding hot
   To som Caves mouth, or whether washt by stream
   From underground) the liquid Ore he dreind
   Into fit moulds prepar'd; from which he formd
   First his own Tooles; then, what might else be wrought
   Fulfil or grav'n in mettle. After these,
   But on the hether side a different sort
   From the high neighbouring Hills, which was thir Seat,
   Down to the Plain descended: by thir guise
   Just men they seemd, and all thir study bent
   To worship God aright, and know his works
   Not hid, nor those things lost which might preserve
   Freedom and Peace to men: they on the Plain
   Long had not walkt, when from the Tents behold
   A Beavie of fair Women, richly gay
   In Gems and wanton dress; to the Harp they sung
   Soft amorous Ditties, and in dance came on:
   The Men though grave, ey'd them, and let thir eyes
   Rove without rein, till in the amorous Net
   Fast caught, they lik'd, and each his liking chose;
   And now of love they treat till th' Eevning Star
   Loves Harbinger appeerd; then all in heat
   They light the Nuptial Torch, and bid invoke
   Hymen, then first to marriage Rites invok't;
   With Feast and Musick all the Tents resound.
   Such happy interview and fair event
   Of love & youth not lost, Songs, Garlands, Flours,
   And charming Symphonies attach'd the heart
   Of ADAM, soon enclin'd to admit delight,
   The bent of Nature; which he thus express'd.
   True opener of mine eyes, prime Angel blest,
   Much better seems this Vision, and more hope
   Of peaceful dayes portends, then those two past;
   Those were of hate and death, or pain much worse,
   Here Nature seems fulfilld in all her ends.
   To whom thus MICHAEL. Judg not what is best
   By pleasure, though to Nature seeming meet,
   Created, as thou art, to nobler end
   Holie and pure, conformitie divine.
   Those Tents thou sawst so pleasant, were the Tents
   Of wickedness, wherein shall dwell his Race
   Who slew his Brother; studious they appere
   Of Arts that polish Life, Inventers rare,
   Unmindful of thir Maker, though his Spirit
   Taught them, but they his gifts acknowledg'd none.
   Yet they a beauteous ofspring shall beget;
   For that fair femal Troop thou sawst, that seemd
   Of Goddesses, so blithe, so smooth, so gay,
   Yet empty of all good wherein consists
   Womans domestic honour and chief praise;
   Bred onely and completed to the taste
   Of lustful apperence, to sing, to dance,
   To dress, and troule the Tongue, and roule the Eye.
   To these that sober Race of Men, whose lives
   Religious titl'd them the Sons of God,
   Shall yeild up all thir vertue, all thir fame
   Ignobly, to the trains and to the smiles
   Of these fair Atheists, and now swim in joy,
   (Erelong to swim at larg) and laugh; for which
   The world erelong a world of tears must weepe.
   To whom thus ADAM of short joy bereft.
   O pittie and shame, that they who to live well
   Enterd so faire, should turn aside to tread
   Paths indirect, or in the mid way faint!
   But still I see the tenor of Mans woe
   Holds on the same, from Woman to begin.
   From Mans effeminate slackness it begins,
   Said th' Angel, who should better hold his place
   By wisdome, and superiour gifts receavd.
   But now prepare thee for another Scene.
   He lookd and saw wide Territorie spred
   Before him, Towns, and rural works between,
   Cities of Men with lofty Gates and Towrs,
   Concours in Arms, fierce Faces threatning Warr,
   Giants of mightie Bone, and bould emprise;
   Part wield thir Arms, part courb the foaming Steed,
   Single or in Array of Battel rang'd
   Both Horse and Foot, nor idely mustring stood;
   One way a Band select from forage drives
   A herd of Beeves, faire Oxen and faire Kine
   From a fat Meddow ground; or fleecy Flock,
   Ewes and thir bleating Lambs over the Plaine,
   Thir Bootie; scarce with Life the Shepherds flye,
   But call in aide, which tacks a bloody Fray;
   With cruel Tournament the Squadrons joine;
   Where Cattel pastur'd late, now scatterd lies
   With Carcasses and Arms th' ensanguind Field
   Deserted: Others to a Citie strong
   Lay Siege, encampt; by Batterie, Scale, and Mine,
   Assaulting; others from the Wall defend
   With Dart and Jav'lin, Stones and sulfurous Fire;
   On each hand slaughter and gigantic deeds.
   In other part the scepter'd Haralds call
   To Council in the Citie Gates: anon
   Grey-headed men and grave, with Warriours mixt,
   Assemble, and Harangues are heard, but soon
   In factious opposition, till at last
   Of middle Age one rising, eminent
   In wise deport, spake much of Right and Wrong,
   Of Justice, of Religion, Truth and Peace,
   And Judgement from above: him old and young
   Exploded, and had seiz'd with violent hands,
   Had not a Cloud descending snatch'd him thence
   Unseen amid the throng: so violence
   Proceeded, and Oppression, and Sword-Law
   Through all the Plain, and refuge none was found.
   ADAM was all in tears, and to his guide
   Lamenting turnd full sad; O what are these,
   Deaths Ministers, not Men, who thus deal Death
   Inhumanly to men, and multiply
   Ten thousand fould the sin of him who slew
   His Brother; for of whom such massacher
   Make they but of thir Brethren, men of men?
   But who was that Just Man, whom had not Heav'n
   Rescu'd, had in his Righteousness bin lost?
   To whom thus MICHAEL; These are the product
   Of those ill-mated Marriages thou saw'st;
   Where good with bad were matcht, who of themselves
   Abhor to joyn; and by imprudence mixt,
   Produce prodigious Births of bodie or mind.
   Such were these Giants, men of high renown;
   For in those dayes Might onely shall be admir'd,
   And Valour and Heroic Vertu call'd;
   To overcome in Battel, and subdue
   Nations, and bring home spoils with infinite
   Man-slaughter, shall be held the highest pitch
   Of human Glorie, and for Glorie done
   Of triumph, to be styl'd great Conquerours,
   Patrons of Mankind, Gods, and Sons of Gods,
   Destroyers rightlier call'd and Plagues of men.
   Thus Fame shall be achiev'd, renown on Earth,
   And what most merits fame in silence hid.
   But hee the seventh from thee, whom thou beheldst
   The onely righteous in a World perverse,
   And therefore hated, therefore so beset
   With Foes for daring single to be just,
   And utter odious Truth, that God would come
   To judge them with his Saints: Him the most High
   Rapt in a balmie Cloud with winged Steeds
   Did, as thou sawst, receave, to walk with God
   High in Salvation and the Climes of bliss,
   Exempt from Death; to shew thee what reward
   Awaits the good, the rest what punishment;
   Which now direct thine eyes and soon behold.
   He look'd, & saw the face of things quite chang'd;
   The brazen Throat of Warr had ceast to roar,
   All now was turn'd to jollitie and game,
   To luxurie and riot, feast and dance,
   Marrying or prostituting, as befell,
   Rape or Adulterie, where passing faire
   Allurd them; thence from Cups to civil Broiles.
   At length a Reverend Sire among them came,
   And of thir doings great dislike declar'd,
   And testifi'd against thir wayes; hee oft
   Frequented thir Assemblies, whereso met,
   Triumphs or Festivals, and to them preachd
   Conversion and Repentance, as to Souls
   In prison under Judgements imminent:
   But all in vain: which when he saw, he ceas'd
   Contending, and remov'd his Tents farr off;
   Then from the Mountain hewing Timber tall,
   Began to build a Vessel of huge bulk,
   Measur'd by Cubit, length, & breadth, and highth,
   Smeard round with Pitch, and in the side a dore