Unrespited, unpitied, unreprieved,

Ages of hopeless end? This would be worse.
War, therefore, open or conceal'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,

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

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 resolved,
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 venturous, 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 their Conqueror: this is now
Our doom; which, if we can sustain and bear,
Our supreme foe, in time, may much remit
His anger; and, perhaps, thus far removed,
Not mind us not offending, satisfied

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

Their noxious vapour; or, inured, not feel;
Or, changed at length, and to the place conform'd
In temper and in nature, will receive

Familiar the fierce heat, and void of pain;

This horror will grow mild, this darkness, light;
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 ill; for ill, not worst,
If we procure not to ourselves more woe."

Thus Belial, with words clothed in reason's garb,
Counsell'd ignoble ease, and peaceful sloth,
Not peace; and after him thus Mammon spake :
"Either to disenthrone the King of heaven

We war, if war be best, or to regain

Our own right lost: him to unthrone we then
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
Forced hallelujahs; 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
By force impossible, by leave obtain'd
Unacceptable, though in heaven, our state
Of splendid vassalage; but rather seek

pursue

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

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 unobscured,

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?
Our torments also may, in length of time,
Become our elements, these piercing fires,
As soft as now severe, our temper changed
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 where; dismissing quite

All thoughts of war.

Ye have what I advise."

He scarce had finish'd, when such murmur fill'd

The assembly, as when hollow rocks retain

The sound of blustering winds, which all night long

Had roused the sea, now with hoarse cadence lull
Seafaring 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 pleased,
Advising peace for such another field

They dreaded worse than hell: 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 perceived, 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 noontide air, while thus he spake :

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

Must we renounce, and, changing style, be call'd
Princes of hell? for so the popular vote

Inclines here to continue, and build up here

A growing empire; doubtless, while we dream,
And know not 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 high jurisdiction, in new league
Banded against his throne, but to remain

In strictest bondage, though thus far removed
Under the inevitable curb, reserved

His captive multitude; for he, be sure,

In height or depth, still first and last will reign
Sole king, and of his kingdom lose no part
By our revolt; but over hell extend

His empire, and with iron sceptre rule

Us here, as with his golden those in heaven.
What sit we then projecting?-peace and war?
War hath determined us, and foil'd with loss
Irreparable; terms of peace yet none

Vouchsafed or sought; for what peace will be given
To us enslaved, but custody severe,

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

Heaven, whose high walls fear no assault, or siege,
Or ambush from the deep. What, if we find
Some easier enterprise? There is a place
(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

Of him who rules above; so was his will
Pronounced among the gods; and by an oath,
That shook heaven's whole circumference, confirm'd.
Thither let us bend all our thoughts, to learn