To that bad eminence: and from despair
Thus high uplifted beyond hope, afpires
Beyond thus high, infatiate to perfue
Vain war with Heav'n, and by fuccefs untaught
His proud imaginations thus display'd.
Powers and Dominions, Deities of Heav'n!
For fince no deep within her gulph can hold
Immortal vigor, though opprefs'd and fall'n,
I give not Heav'n for loft. From this defcent
Cœleftial virtues rifing, will appear
More glorious and more dread than from no fall,
And trust themselves to fear no fecond fate.
Me though juft right, and the fix'd laws of Heav'n
Did first create your Leader, next free choice,
With what befides, in council or in fight,
Hath been atchiev'd of merit, yet this lofs
Thus far at leaft recover'd, hath much more
Establish'd in a fafe unenvied throne,
Yielded with full confent. The happier ftate
In Heav'n, which follows dignity, might draw 25
Envy from each inferior; but who here
Will envy whom the highest place expofes
Foremost to ftand against the Thunderer's aim
Your bulwark, and condems to greatest share
Of endless pain? Where there is then no good
For which to ftrive, no ftrife can grow up there
From faction; for none fure will claim in Hell
Precedence; none, whofe portion is so small
Of prefent pain, that with ambitious mind
Will covet more! With this advantage then
To union, and firm faith, and firm accord,
More than can be in Heav'n, we now return
To claim our juft inheritance of old,
Surer to profper than profperity
Could have affur'd us; and by what beft way,
Whether of open war or covert guile,
We now debate; who can advife may speak.
He ceas'd; and next him Moroc, fceptred King, Stood up, the strongest and the fierceft fpirit That fought in Heav'n, now fiercer by despair: 45 His truft was with th' Eternal to be deem'd Equal in ftrength, and rather than be less Car'd not to be at all; with that care lost Went all his fear: of God, or Hell, or worse, He reck'd not; and these words thereafter spake: 50
My fentence is for open war: of wiles, More inexpert, I boaft not: them let those Contrive who need, or when they need, not now: For while they fit contriving, thall the reft, Millions that ftand in arms, and longing wait The tignal to afcend, fit ling'ring here Heav'n's fugitives, and for their dwelling place Accept this dark opprobrious den of fhame, The prifon of his tyranny who reigns By our delay? No! let us rather chufe, Arm'd with hell flames and fury, all at once O'er Heav'n's high towrs to force refiftless way, Turning our tortures into horrid arms Against the torturer; wheh to meet the noise Of his Almighty engin he shall hear Infernal thunder, and for lightning fee Black fire and horror fhot with equal rage Among his Angels; and his throne it felt
Mixt with TARTAREAN fulphur, and ftrange fire,
His own invented torments. But perhaps
The way feems difficult and fteep, to scale
With upright wing against a higher foe.
Let fuch bethink them, if the fleepy drench
Of that forgetful lake benumb not still,
That in our proper motion we afcend
Up to our native feat: defcent and fall
To us is adverfe. Who but felt of late
When the fierce foe hung on our broken reer
Infulting, and perfu'd us through the deep;
With what compulfion and laborious flight
We funk thus low? th' afcent is eafie then;
Th' event is fear'd; fhould we again provoke
Our stronger, fome worfe way his wrath may
To our deftruction: if there be in Hell
Fear to be worse destroy'd: what can be worse
Than to dwell here, driv'n out from blifs, condemn'd In this abhorred deep to utter woe;
Where pain of inextinguishable fire
Muft exercise us without hope of end,
The vaffals of his anger, when the fcourge
Inexorable and the torturing hour
Calls us to penance? more deftroy'd than thus,
We fhould be quite abolish'd and expire.
What fear we then? what doubt we to incenfe
His utmost ire? which to the height enrag'd,
Will either quite confume us, and reduce
To nothing this effential; happier far,
Than miferable to have eternal being.
Or if our fubftance be indeed divine,
And cannot cease to be, we are at worst
On this fide nothing; and by proof we feel
Our power fufficient to disturb his Heav'n,
And with perpetual inrodes to alarm,
Though inacceffible, his fatal throne:
Which, if not victory, is yet revenge.
He ended frowning, and his look denounc'd
Defperate revenge, and battel dangerous
To lefs than Gods. On th' other fide up rofe
BELIAL, in act more graceful and humane:
A fairer perfon loft not Heav'n; he feem'd
For dignity compos'd and high exploit:
But all was falfe and hollow; though his tongue
Dropt Manna, and could make the worfe appear
The better reafon, to perplex and dath
Matureft counfels, for his thoughts were low:
To vice induftrious, but to nobler deeds
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