صور الصفحة
PDF
النشر الإلكتروني

His lithe proboscis; close the serpent sly
Insinuating, wove with Gordian twine
His braided train, and of his fatal guile
Gave proof unheeded; others on the grass
Couch'd, and, now fill'd with pasture, gazing sat,
Or bedward ruminating; for the sun

Declin'd was hasting now with prone career
To th' ocean-isles, and in th' ascending scale
Of heav'n the stars, that usher ev'ning, rose:
When Satan still in gaze, as first he stood,
Scarce thus at length fail'd speech recover'd sad:

O hell! what do mine eyes with grief behold!
Into our room of bliss thus high advanc'd
Creatures of other mould, earth-born perhaps,
Not spirits, yet to heav'nly spirits bright
Little inferior; whom my thoughts pursue
With wonder, and could love, so lively shines
In them divine resemblance, and such grace

The hand that form'd them on their shape hath pour'd.

Ah, gentle pair! ye little think how nigh

Your change approaches, when all these delights
Will vanish, and deliver ye to woe;

More woe, the more your taste is now of joy;
Happy, but for so happy ill secur'd

Long to continue, and this high seat your heav'n,
Ill fenc❜d for heav'n to keep out such a foe
As now is enter'd; yet no purpos'd foe
To you, whom I could pity thus forlorn,
Though I unpitied: league with you I seek,
And mutual amity, so strait, so close,

That I with you must dwell, or you with me
Henceforth: my dwelling haply may not please,
Like this fair Paradise, your sense; yet such
Accept your Maker's work; he gave it me
Which I as freely give: hell shall unfold,
To entertain you two, her widest-gates,
And send forth all her kings; there will be room,
Not like these narrow limits, to receive
Your num'rous 'offspring; if no better place,
Thank him who puts me loath to this revenge

On you who wrong me not, for him who wrong'd,
And should I at your harmless innocence
Melt, as I do, yet public reason just,

Honour and empire with revenge enlarg'd,
By conqu❜ring this new world, compels me now
To do what else, though damn'd, I should abhor.
So spake the Fiend, and with necessity,
The tyrant's plea, excus'd his dev'lish deeds.
Then from his lofty stand on that high tree
Down he alights among the sportful herd
Of those four-footed kinds, himself now one,
Now other, as their shape serv'd best his end
Nearer to view his prey, and unespy'd

To mark what of their state he more might learn,
By word or action mark'd: about them round
A lion now he stalks with fiery glare;

Then as a tyger, who by chance hath spy'd
In some purlieu two gentle fawns at play,
Strait couches close, then rising changes, oft
His couchant watch, as one who chose his ground,
Whence rushing he might surest seize them both,
Grip'd in each paw: when Adam, first of men,
To first of women, Eve, thus moving speech,
Turn'd him, all ear to hear new utt'rance flow.

Sole partner, and sole part of all these joys,
Dearer thyself than all; needs must the power
That made us, and for us this ample world,
Be infinitely good, and of his good

As liberal and free as infinite;

That rais'd as from the dust, and plac'd us here
In all this happiness, who at his hand

Have nothing merited, nor can perform
Ought whereof he hath need; he who requires
From us no other service than to keep
This one, this easy charge, of all the trees
In Paradise that bear delicious fruit

So various, not to taste that only tree

Of knowledge, planted by the tree of life;

So near grows death to life, whate'er death is,

Some dreadful thing no doubt; for well thou know'st

God hath pronounc'd it death to taste that tree,
The only sign of our obedience left

Among so many signs of pow'r and rule

Conferr'd upon us, and dominion giv'n
Over all other creatures that possess

Earth, air, and sea. Then let us not think hard

One easy prohibition, who enjoy

Free leave so large to all things else, and choice
Unlimited of manifold delights:

But let us ever praise him, and extol

His bounty, foll'wing our delightful task,

To prune these growing plants and tend these flow'rs;
Which were it toilsome, yet with thee were sweet.

To whom thus Eve reply'd: O thou, for whom
And from whom I was form'd, flesh of thy flesh,
And without whom am to no end, my guide
And head, what thou hast said is just and right.
For we to him indeed all praises owe,
And daily thanks; I chiefly, who enjoy
So far the happier lot, enjoying thee
Pre-eminent by so much odds, while thou
Like consort to thyself canst no where find.
That day I oft remember, when from sleep
I first awak'd, and found myself repos'd

Under a shade on flow'rs, much wond'ring where
And what I was, whence thither brought, and how.
Not distant far from thence a murm❜ring sound
Of waters issu'd from a cave, and spread
Into a liquid plain, then stood unmov'd
Pure as th' expanse of heav'n; I thither went
With unexperienc'd thought and laid me down
On the green bank, to look into the clear
Smooth lake, that to me seem'd another sky.
As I bent down to look, just opposite
A shape within the wat❜ry gleam appear'd,
Bending to look on me: I started back,
It started back; but pleas'd I soon return'd,
Pleas'd it return'd as soon with answ'ring looks
Of sympathy and love, there I had fix'd

Mine eyes till now, and pin'd with vain desire,

Had not a voice thus warn'd me: What thou see'st,
What there thou see'st, fair creature, is thyself;
With thee it came and goes: but follow me,
And I will bring thee where no shadow stays
Thy coming, and thy soft embraces, he
Whose image thou art; him thou shalt enjoy
Inseparably thine, to him shall bear

Multitudes like thyself, and thence be call'd
Mother of human race. What could I do,
But follow strait, invisibly thus led?
Till I espy'd thee, fair indeed and tall,
Under a platan, yet methought less fair,
Less winning soft, less amiably mild,

Than that smooth wat'ry image: back I turn'd;
Thou following, cry'dst aloud, Return, fair Eve,
Whom fly'st thou? whom thou fly'st, of him thou art,
His flesh, his bone; to give thee being I lent
Out of my side to thee, nearest my heart,
Substantial life, to have thee by my side
Henceforth an individual solace dear;
Part of my soul, I seek thee, and thee claim
My other half. With that thy gentle hand
Seiz'd mine: I yielded; and from that time see
How beauty is excell'd by manly grace
And wisdom, which alone is truly fair.

So spake our gen`ral mother, and with eyes
Of conjugal attraction, unreprov'd,
And meek surrender, half embracing lean'd
On our first father; half her swelling breast
Naked met his, under the flowing gold
Of her loose tresses hid; he in delight,
Both of her beauty and submissive charms,
Smil'd with superior love, as Jupiter

On Juno smiles, when he impregns the clouds
That shed May flow'rs, and press'd her matron lip
With kisses pure. Aside the devil turn'd

For envy; yet with jealous leer malign

Ey'd them askance, and to himself thus 'plain'd

Sight hateful, sight tormenting! thus these two, Imparediş'd in one another's arms,

The happier Eden, shall enjoy their fill

Of bliss on bliss; while I to hell am thrust,
Where neither joy nor love, but fierce desire,
Amongst our other torments not the least,
Still unfulfil'd, with pain of longing pines.
Yet let me not forget what I have gain'd
From their own mouths: all is not theirs, it seems;
One fatal tree there stands, of knowledge call'd,
Forbidden them to taste. Knowledge forbidden?
Suspicious, reasonless. Why should their Lord
Envy them that? can it be sin to know?
Can it be death? and do they only stand
By ignorance? is that their happy state,
The proof of their obedience, and their faith?
O fair foundation laid whereon to build
Their ruin? Hence I will excite their minds
With more desire to know, and to reject
Envious commands, invented with design
To keep them low, whom knowledge might exalt
Equal with gods: aspiring to be such,

They taste, and die: what likelier can ensue?
But first with narrow search I must walk round
This garden, and no corner leave unspy'd;

A chance but chance may lead where I may meet
Some wand'ring spirit of heav'n, by fountain-side,
Or in thick shade retir'd, from him to draw

What further would be learn'd. Live while ye may, Yet happy pair; enjoy, till I return,

Short pleasures, for long woes are to succeed.

So saying, his proud step he scornful turn'd,

But with sly circumspection, and began

Through wood, through waste, o'er hill, o'er dale, his

roam.

Meanwhile in utmost longitude, where heav'n
With earth and ocean meets, the setting sun
Slowly descended, and with right aspect
Against the eastern gate of Paradise
Levell'd his evening-rays; it was a rock
Of alabaster, pil'd up to the clouds,
Conspicuous far, winding with one ascent

« السابقةمتابعة »