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And that must end us; that must be our cure,
To be no more. Sad cure! for who would lose,
Though full of pain, this intellectual being,
Those thoughts that wander through eternity,
To perish rather, swallowed up and lost
In the wide womb of uncreated night,
Devoid of sense and motion? And who knows,
Let this be good, whether our angry foe
Can give it, or will ever? How he can,
Is doubtful; that he never will, is sure.
.Will he, so wise, let loose at once his ire,

Belike through impotence or unaware,
To give his enemies their wish, and end

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150

155

Them in his anger, whom his anger saves
To punish endless? Wherefore cease we then?'

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Say they who counsel war; 'we are decreed,

Reserved, and destined to eternal woe :

Whatever doing, what can we suffer more ?
What can we suffer worse?' Is this then worst,
Thus sitting, thus consulting, thus in arms?
What! when we fled amain, pursued, and strook
With Heaven's afflicting thunder, and besought
The Deep to shelter us? This Hell then seemed
A refuge from those wounds. Or when we lay
Chained on the burning lake? That sure was worse.
What if the breath that kindled those grim fires,
Awaked, should blow them into sevenfold rage,
And plunge us in the flames? or, from above,
Should intermitted vengeance arm again
His red right hand to plague us? What if all
Her stores were opened, and this firmament
Of Hell should spout her cataracts of fire,
Impendent horrors, threatening hideous fall

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146-151. An idea which has doubtless tormented many who might

otherwise have argued themselves to self-destruction. 155. Belial is here keener than Moloch, 11. 96-101.

One day upon our heads? while we, perhaps,
Designing or exhorting glorious war,

Caught in a fiery tempest, shall be hurled,
Each on his rock transfixed, the sport and prey
Of racking whirlwinds, or for ever sunk
Under yon boiling ocean, wrapt in chains,
There to converse with everlasting groans,

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Unrespited, unpitied, unreprieved,

185

Ages of hopeless end! This would be worse.
War therefore, open or concealed, 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 highth

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 expelled, 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

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186. Belial is of that lower order of mind which thinks it best to get along on what is obviously practical. They get on excellently in this world, but rarely achieve great things.

188. What can force or guile with him? Something of a Latinism, quid possit. What can force do ? we should say.

208. There was a certain noble endurance in the preceding lines :

now Belial shows rather a cringing lowness of mind.

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 punished; whence these raging fires
Will slacken, if his breath stir not their flames.

210

Our purer essence then will overcome

215

Their noxious vapour; or, inured, not feel;
Or, changed at length, and to the place conformed

In temper and in nature, will receive

Familiar the fierce heat, and void of pain;

This horror will grow mild, this darkness light;

220

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."

225

Thus Belial, with words clothed in reason's garb,
Counselled 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

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224. For happy though but ill. When we regard our lot as happy it seems but ill, but when we regard it as ill, it seems not worst.

228. Mammon, although his advice runs along with that of Belial, offers a somewhat different argument, and shows a different temper, and, in fact, goes a step farther. Belial had been unable to arise to the fierce unrest of Moloch; in reality he hated the bother of making an effort. But Mammon is already more or less satisfied with Hell; he sees things (i. 678-688; ii. 270-273) that he really likes much better than he ever did the more spiritual delights of Heaven, of which he speaks with hardly veiled contempt (241-243).

234. The vanity of the former hope is evidence of the vanity of the latter.

The latter; for what place can be for us
Within Heaven's bound, unless Heaven's Lord supreme

235

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

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Forced Halleluiahs; while he lordly sits
Our envied sovran, and his altar breathes
Ambrosial odours and ambrosial flowers,
Our servile offerings? This must be our task
In Heaven, this our delight. How wearisome

245

Eternity so spent, in worship paid
To whom we hate! Let us not then pursue
By force impossible, by leave obtained

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Unacceptable, though in Heaven, our state

Of splendid vassalage; but rather seek
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

255

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

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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

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245. Ambrosial. Ambrosia was the food of the gods of the classics. The line is another reminiscence of Milton's traditions.

250. Here he gives his view of Belial's idea of possible forgiveness (209-220).

263, 264. A weak argument, not even specious.

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 finished, when such murmur filled

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'er-watched, 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 Michaël

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Wrought still within them; and no less desire
To found this nether empire, which might rise,
By policy and long procèss of time,

295

In emulation opposite to Heaven.

278. Sensible, sense or sensibility; the adjective used for the

noun.

294. Michaël means "the sword of God." The word must here be pronounced as a trisyllable. 296. Nether, lower.

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