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Direct, or by occasion) hath presented
This happy trial of thy love, which else
So eminently never had been known.
Were it I thought death menac'd would ensue
This my attempt, I would sustain alone
The worst, and not persuade thee; rather die
Deserted, than oblige thee with a fact
Pernicious to thy peace; chiefly assur'd
Remarkably so late of thy so true,
So faithful love unequall'd; but I feel
Far otherwise th'event, not death, but life
Augmented, opend eyes, new hopes, new joys,
Taste so divine, that what of sweet before
Hath touch'd my sense, flat seems to this, and harsli.
On my experience, Adam, freely taste,
And fear of death deliver to the winds.
So saying, she embrac'd him, and for joy
Tenderly wept; much won, that he his love
Had so ennobled, as of choice to incur
Divine displeasure for her sake, or death.
In recompense (for such compliance bad
Such recompense best merits) for the bough
She gave him of that fair enticing fruit
With liberal hand: he scrupled not to eat,
Against his better knowledge; not deceiv'd,
But fondly overcome with feinale charm.
Earth trembled from her entrails, as again
In pangs; and Nature gave a second groan;
Sky lourd, and muttering thunder, some sad drops
Wept at completing of the mortal sin
Original; while Adam took no thought,
Eating his fill; nor Eve to iterate
Her foriner trespass fear'd, the more to soothe
Him with her lov'd society; that now,
As with new wine intoxicated both,
They swim in inirth, and fancy that they feel
Divinity within them breeding wings
Wherewith to scorn the earth. But that false fruit
Far other operation first display'd,
Carnal desire inflaming; he on Eve
Began to cast lascivious eyes, she hiin
As wantonly repaid; in lust they burnt,
Till Adam thusgan Eve to dalliance move:
Eve, now I see thou art exact of taste,
And elegant, of sapience no small part,
Since to each meaning savour we apply,
And palate call judicious: I the praise
Yield thee, so well this day thou hast purvey'd.
Much pleasure we have lost, while we abstain'd
From this delightful fruit, nor known till now
True relish, tasting; if such pleasure be
In things to us forbidd'n, it might be wish'd,
For this one tree had been forbidden ten.
But come, so well refresh'd, now let us play,
As ineet is, after such delicious fare;
For never did thy beauty since the day
I saw thee first, and wedded thee, adorn'd
With all perfections, so infiame my sense
With ardour to enjoy thee; fairer now
Chan ever, bounty of this virtuous tree.
So said he, and forebore not glance or toy Of amorous intent: well understood Of Eve, whose eye darted contagious fire: ler hand he seiz’d, and to a shady bank, 'hick overhead with verdant roof imbower'd, le led her nothing loath; How'rs were the couch, ansies, and violets, and asphodely nd hyacinth, earth's freshest softest lap, here they their fill of love, and love's disport 'ook largely, of their mutual guilt the seal, he solace of their sin; till dewy sleep ppress'd them, wearied with their amorous play. Soon as the force of that fallacious fruit, hat with exhilarating vapour bland bout their sp'rits had play'd, and inmost pow'rs ade err, was now exhald; and grosser sleep ed of unkindly fumes, with conscious dreams cumberd, now had left them; up they rose
As from unrest, and each the other viewings
Soon found their eyes how open'd, and their minds
How darken’d; innocence, that as a veil
Had shadow'd them from knowing ill, was gone,
Just confidence, and native righteousness,
And honour from about them, naked left
To guilty shame; he cover'd, but his robe
Uncover'd more. So rose the Danite strung,
Herculean Samson, froin the harlot-lap
Of Philistean Dalilah, and wak'd
Shorn of his streogth: they destitute and bare
Of all their virtue, silent, and in face
Confounded, long they sat, as strucken mute:
Till Adam, though not less than Eve abash'd,
At length gave utterance to these words constraind:
O Eve, in evil hour thou didst give car
To that false worm, of whomsoever taught
To counterfeit man's voice; true in our fall,
False in our promis'd rising: since our eyes
Open'd we find indeed, and find we know
Both good and evil, good lost, and evil got,
Bad fruit of knowledge, if this be to know,
Which leaves us naked thus, of honour void,
Of innocence, of faith, of purity,
Our wonted ornaments now soild and staind,
And in our faces evident the signs
of foul concupiscence; whence evil store;
Ev’n shame, the last of evils; of the first
Be sure then. How shall i behold the face
Henceforth of God or Angel, erst with joy
And rapture so oft beheld; those heav'nly shapes
Will dazzle now this earthly with their blaze
Insufferably bright. O might 1 here
In solitude live savage, in some glade
Obscurd, where highest woods, impenetrable
To star or sun-light, spread their umbrage broad
And brown as evening: cover me, ye pires, -
Ye cedars, with innumerable boughs
Hide me, where I may never sce them more.
But let us now, as in bad plight, deyise
What best may for the present serve to hide
The parts of each from other, that seem most
To shame obnoxious, and unseemliest seen;
Some tree, whose broad smooth leaves together sow'd
And girded on our loins, inay cover round
Those middle parts, that this new comer, shame,
There sit not, and reproach us as unclean,
So counsel'd he, and both together went
Into the thickest wood; there soon they chose
The fig-tree; not that kind for fruit renown'd:
But such as at this day to Indians known
In Malabar or Decan, spreads her arins,
Branching so broad and long, that in the ground
The bended twigs take root, and daughters grow
About their mother-tree, a pillar'd shade
High overarch'd, and echoing walks between;
There oft the Indian herdsman, shunning heat,
Shelters iu cool, and tends his pasturing herds
At loup-holes cut through thickest shade: those leaves
They gather'd, broad as Amazonian targe;
And with what skill they had, together sow'd,
To gird their waist; vain covering, if to hide
Their guilt and dreaded shame: o how unlike
To that first naked glory! Such of late
Columbus found the American, so girt
With feather'd cincture, naked else and wild
Among the trees on isles and woody shores.
Thus fenc'd, and as they thought, their shame in part
Cover'd, but not at rest or ease of mind,
They sat them down to weep; nor only tears
Raiu'd at their eyes, but high winds worse within
Began to rise, high passions, anger, hate,
Mistrust, suspicion, discord, and shook sore
Their inward state of mind; calm region once,
And full of peace, now tost and turbulent:
For understanding rul'd not, and the will
Heard not her lore, both in subjection now.
To sensual appetite, who from beneath
Usurping, over sovoreign reason claim'd
Superior sway: from his distemper'd breast,
Adam, estrang'd in look and alter'd stile,
Speech intermitted, thus to Eve renew'd:
Would thou hadsthearken'd to my words, and stay'd
With me, as I besought thee, when that strange
Desire of wand'ring this unhappy morn,
I know not whence possess'd thee; we had then
Remain'd still happy, not as now, despoil'd
Of all our goud, sham'd, naked, miserable.
Let none henceforth seek needless cause l'approve
The faith they owe; when earnestly they seek
Such proof, conclude, they then begin to fail.
To whom soon mov'd with touch of blame thus
What words have pass’d thy lips, Adam, severe!
linput'st thou that to my default, or will
Of wanitoring, as thou call'st it, which who knowst
But might as ill have happen'd thou being by,
Or to thyself perhaps, Hadst thou been there?
Or here th'atteinpt, thou could'st not have discernd
Fraud in the serpent, speaking as he spake;
No ground of enmity between us known,
Why he should inean me ill, or seek to harm.
Was I to have never parted from thy side?
As good have grown there still a lifeless rib.
Being as I am, why didst not thou the head
Comminand ine absolutely not to go,
Going into sucli danger as thou saidst!
Too facile then thou didst not much gainsay,
Nay, didst permit, approve, and fair dismiss.
Hadst thou been tirm and fix'd in thy dissent
Neither had I transgress”d, nor thou with ine.
To whom, then first incens’d, Adam reply'd:
Is this tie love, is this the recompense
Of mine to thee, ingrateful Eve, express’ul
Immutable, when thou were lost, not );
Who might have liv'd, and joy'd immortal bliss,
Yet willingly chose rather death with thee?