To us enslav'd, but custody severe,
And stripes, and arbitrary punishment Inflicted? and what peace can we return, But to our power hostility and hate, Untam❜d 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 Pronounc'd among the Gods, and by an oath, That shook Heaven's whole circumference, confirm'd. Thither let us bend all our thoughts, to learn What creatures there inhabit, of what mould,
Or substance, how indued, and what their power, And where their weakness, how attempted best, By force or subtlety: though Heaven be shut, And Heaven's high arbitrator sit secure
In his own strength, this place may lie expos'd The utmost border of his kingdom, left To their defence who hold it: here perhaps Some advantageous act may be atchiev'd By sudden onset, either with Hell-fire To waste his whole creation, or possess All as our own, and drive as we were driven, The puny habitants, or if not drive, Seduce them to our party, that their God May prove their foe, and with repenting hand Abolish his own works. This would surpass Common revenge, and interrupt his joy In our confusion, and our joy up-raise In his disturbance; when his darling sons Hurl'd headlong to partake with us, shall curse Their frail original, and faded bliss, Faded so soon. Advise if this be worth Attempting, or to sit in darkness here
Hatching vain empires. Thus Beelzebub
Pleaded his devilish counsel, first devis'd By Satan, and in part propos'd: for whence, But from the author of all ill could spring So deep a malice, to confound the race Of mankind in one root, and earth with hell To mingle and involve, done all to spite The great Creator? but their spite still serves His glory to augment. The bold design Pleas'd highly those infernal states, and joy Sparkled in all their eyes; with full assent They vote: whereat his speech he thus renews. Well have ye judg'd, well ended long debate, Synod of Gods, and like to what ye are, Great things resolv'd, which from the lowest deep Will once more lift us up, in spite of fate, Nearer our ancient seat; perhaps in view
Of those bright confines, whence with neighbouring arms And opportune excursion we may chance Re-enter Heaven; or else in some mild zone Dwell not unvisited of Heaven's fair light Secure, and at the brightning orient beam Purge off this gloom; the soft delicious air, To heal the scar of these corrosive fires,
Shall breathe her balm. But first whom shall we send In search of this new world? whom shall we find Sufficient? who shall tempt with wandering feet The dark unbottom'd infinite abyss,
And through the palpable obscure find out His uncouth way, or spread his aery flight Upborne with indefatigable wings
Over the vast abrupt, ere he arrive
The happy isle? what strength, what art can then Suffice, or what evasion bear him safe
Through the strict senteries and stations thick Of Angels watching round? here he had need All circumspection, and we now no less Choice in our suffrage; for on whom we send, The weight of all and our last hope relies. This said, he sat; and expectation held His look suspence, awaiting who appear'd To second, or oppose, or undertake
The perilous attempt: but all sate mute, Pondering the danger with deep thoughts; and each In others countenance read his own dismay Astonish'd: none among the choice and prime
Of those Heaven-warring champions could be found
So hardy as to proffer or accept
Alone the dreadful voyage; till at last
Satan, whom now transcendent glory rais'd Above his fellows, with monarchal pride, Conscious of highest worth, unmov'd thus spake. O progeny of Heaven, empyreal thrones, With reason hath deep silence and demur Seis'd us, though undismay'd: long is the way And hard, that out of Hell leads up to light; Our prison strong; this huge convex of fire, Outrageous to devour, immures us round Ninefold, and gates of burning adamant Barr'd over us prohibit all egress. These past, if any pass, the void profound Of unessential night receives him next Wide-gaping, and with utter loss of being Threatens him, plung'd in that abortive gulph. If thence he 'scape into whatever world, Or unknown region, what remains him less. Than unknown dangers and as hard escape? But I should ill become this throne, O peers, And this imperial sovranty, adorn'd
With splendor, arm'd with power, if aught propos'd
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