Created thing not valued he nor shun'd; And with disdainful look thus first began.
Whence and what art thou, execrable shape, That dar'st, though grim and terrible, advance Thy miscreated front athwart my way To yonder gates? through them I mean to pass, That be affur'd, without leave ask'd of thee. 685 Retire, or taste thy folly, and learn by proof, Hell-born! not to contend with spirits of Heav'n.
To whom the Goblin full of wrath reply'd; Art thou that Traitor-Angel, art thou he, Who first broke peace in Heav'n, and faith, till then Unbroken; and in proud rebellious arms 691 Drew after him the third part of Heav'n's fons, Conjur'd against the Highest; for which both thou And they outcast from God, are here condemn'd To waste eternal days in woe and pain? And reckon'st thou thy felf with fpirits of Heav'n, Hell-doom'd! and breath'ft defiance here and scorn Where I reign King, and to enrage thee more, Thy King and Lord? Back to thy punishment, False fugitive! and to thy speed add wings; Left with a whip of scorpions I perfue Thy lingring; or with one stroke of this dart Strange horror feize thee, and pangs unfelt before.
So spake the griefly Terror, and in shape, So speaking and so threatning, grew tenfold More dreadful and deform. On th' other fide Incens'd with indignation SATAN stood Unterrify'd; and like a Comet burn'd, That fires the length of OPHIUCUS huge In th' arctic sky, and from his horrid hair Shakes peftilence and war. Each at the head Level'd his deadly aim; their fatal hands No second stroke intend; and such a frown
Each caft at th' other, as when two black clouds With Heav'n's artill'ry fraught, come rattling on 715 Over the CASPIAN; then stand front to front Hov'ring a space, till winds the fignal blow To join their dark encounter in mid air : So frown'd the mighty combatants, that Hell Grew darker at their frown: fo match'd they stood, 720 For never but once more was either like To meet so great a foe. And now great deeds Had been atchiev'd, whereof all Hell had rung, Had not the snaky forceress that fat East by hell-gate, and kept the fatal key, Ris'n, and with hideous outcry rush'd between.
O father! what intends thy hand, the cry'd, Against thy only fon? What fury, O fon, Poffeffes thee, to bend that mortal dart Against thy father's head? and know'st for whom; 730 For him who fits above, and laughs the while At thee ordain'd his drudge, to execute Whate'er his wrath, which he calls justice, bids, His wrath, which one day will destroy ye both.
She spake, and at her words the hellish pest 735 Forbore; then these to her SATAN return'd.
So strange thy outcry, and thy words so strange Thou interposest, that my sudden hand Prevented spares to tell thee yet by deeds What it intends; till first I know of thee, What thing thou art, thus double-form'd; and why, In this infernal vale first met, thou call'it Me father, and that phanta'm call'st my fon: I know thee not, nor ever saw till now Sight more detestable than him, and thee.
T' whom thus the portress of hell-gate reply'd; Haft thou forgot me then, and do I feem
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