Or end; though sharp and sad, yet tolerable As in our evils, and of easier choice.
If care of our descent perplex us most, Which must be born to certain woe, devour'd By death at last; and miserable it is, To be to others cause of misery,
Our own begotten, and of our loins to bring Into this cursed world a woeful race, That after wretched life must be at last Food for so foul a monster; in thy power It lies, yet ere conception to prevent The race unblest, to being yet unbegot. Childless thou art, childless remain: so Death Shall be deceived his glut, and with us two Be forced to satisfy his ravenous maw. But if thou judge it hard and difficult, Conversing, looking, loving, to abstain From love's due rites, nuptial embraces sweet; And with desire to languish without hope, Before the present object languishing With like desire; which would be misery And torment less than none of what we dread; Then, both ourselves and seed at once to free From what we fear for both, let us make short, Let us seek Death; or, he, not found, supply With our own hands his office on ourselves. Why stand we longer shivering under fears That shew no end but death, and have the power, Of many ways to die the shortest choosing, Destruction with destruction to destroy?"
She ended here, or vehement despair
Broke off the rest; so much of death her thoughts Had entertain❜d, as dyed her cheeks with pale. But Adam with such counsel nothing sway'd, To better hopes his more attentive mind Labouring had raised; and thus to Eve replied: 'Eve thy contempt of life and pleasure seems To argue in thee something more sublime And excellent, than what thy mind contemns; But self-destruction, therefore sought, refutes That excellence thought in thee; and implies Not thy contempt, but anguish and regret For loss of life and pleasure overloved. Or if thou covet death, as utmost end Of misery, so thinking to evade
The penalty pronounced; doubt not but God
Hath wiselier arm'd his vengeful ire, than so To be forestall'd; much more I fear lest death So snatch'd, will not exempt us from the pain We are by doom to pay; rather, such acts Of contumacy will provoke the Highest To make death in us live: then let us seek Some safer resolution, which methinks I have in view, calling to mind with heed Part of our sentence, that thy seed shall bruise The serpent's head: piteous amends! unless Be meant, whom I conjecture, our grand foe, Satan; who, in the serpent hath contrived Against us this deceit: to crush his head Would be revenge indeed! which will be lost By death brought on ourselves, or childless days Resolved, as thou proposest; so our foe Shall 'scape his punishment ordain'd, and we Instead shall double ours upon our heads. No more be mention then of violence Against ourselves; and wilful barrenness That cuts us off from hope; and savours only Rancour and pride, impatience and despite, Reluctance against God and his just yoke Laid on our necks. Remember with what mild And gracious temper he both heard and judged, Without wrath or reviling; we expected Immediate dissolution, which we thought Was meant by death that day; when, lo! to thee Pains only in childbearing were foretold,
And bringing forth; soon recompensed with joy Fruit of thy womb: on me the curse aslope Glanced on the ground; with labour I must earn My bread; what harm? Idleness had been worse; My labour will sustain me; and, lest cold Or heat should injure us, his timely care, Hath, unbesought, provided; and his hands Clothed us unworthy, pitying while he judged, How much more, if we pray him, will his ear Be open, and his heart to pity incline,
And teach us further by what means to shun The inclement seasons, rain, ice, hail, and snow? Which now the sky, with various face, begins To shew us in this mountain; while the winds Blow moist and keen, shattering the graceful locks Of these fair-spreading trees; which bids us seek Some better shroud, some better warmth to cherish
Our limbs benumb'd, ere this diurnal star
Leave cold the night, how we his gathered beams Reflected, may with matter sere foment Or, by collision of two bodies, grind
The air attrite to fire; as late the clouds
Justling, or push'd with winds, rude in their shock, Time the slant lightning; whose thwart flame driv'n Kindles the gummy bark of fir or pine, And sends a comfortable heat from far, Which might supply the sun; such fire to use, And what may else be remedy or cure
To evils which our own misdeeds have wrought, He will instruct us praying, and of grace Beseeching him; so as we need not fear To pass commodiously this life, sustain'd By him, with many comforts, till we end In dust, our final rest and native home. What better can we do, than, to the place Repairing where he judged us, prostrate fall Before him reverent; and there confess Humbly our faults, and pardon beg; with tears Watering the ground, and with our sighs the air Frequenting, sent from hearts contrite, in sign Of sorrow unfeign'd, and humiliation meek? Undoubtedly he will relent, and turn From his displeasure; in whose look serene, When angry most he seem'd and most severe, What else but favour, grace, and mercy, shone?
So spake our father penitent; nor Eve Felt less romorse: they, forthwith to the place Repairing where he judged them, prostrate fell Before him reverent; and both confess'd
Humbly their faults, and pardon begg'd; with tears Watering the ground, and with their sighs the air Frequenting, sent from hearts contrite, in sign Of sorrow unfeign'd, and humiliation meek
The Son of God presents to his Father the prayers of our first parents now repenting, and intercedes for them: God accepts them, but declares that they must no longer abide in Paradise; send Michael with a band of cherubim to dispossess them; but first to reveal to Adam future things: Michael's coming down. Adam shews to Eve certain ominous signs; he discerns Michael's approach; goes out to meet him: the angel denounces their departure. Eve lamentation. Adam pleads, but submits: the angel leads him up to a high hill; sets before him in vision what shall happen till the flood.
THUS they, in lowliest plight, repentant stood Praying; for, from the mercy-seat above Prevenient grace descending had removed The stony from their hearts, and made new flesh Regenerate grow instead; that sighs now breathed Unutterable; which the Spirit of prayer
Inspired, and wing'd for heaven with speedier flight Than loudest oratory: yet their port
Not of mean suitors; nor important less Seem'd their petition, than when the ancient pair In fables old, less ancient yet than these, Deucalion and chaste Pyrrha, to restore
The race of mankind drown'd, before the shrine Of Themis stood devout. To heaven their prayers Flew up, nor miss'd the way, by envious winds Blown vagabond or frustrate: in they pass'd Dimensionless through heavenly doors; then clad With incense, where the golden altar fumed, By their great intercessor, came in sight Before the Father's throne: them the glad Son Presenting, thus to intercede began:
'See, Father, what first-fruits on earth are sprung From thy implanted grace in man; these signs And prayers, which in this golden censer, mix'd With incense, I thy priest before thee bring;
Fruits of more pleasing savour, from thy secd Sown with contrition in his heart, than those Which, his own hand manuring, all the trees Of Paradise could have produced ere fallen From innocence. Now therefore, bend thine ear To supplication; hear his sighs, though mute Unskilful with what words to pray, let me Interpret for him; me, his advocate And propitiation; all is works on me, Good, or not good, ingraft; my merit those Shall perfect, and for these my death shall pay. Accept me; and, in me, from these receive The smell of peace toward mankind: let him live Before thee reconciled, at least his days
Number'd though sad; till death, his doom (which I To mitigate thus plead, not to reverse,)
To better life shall yield him; where with me All my redeem'd may dwell in joy and bliss ; Made one with me, as I with thee am one.' To whom the Father, without cloud, serene: All thy request for man, accepted Son, Obtain; all thy request was my decree; But, longer in that Paradise to dwell, The law I gave to nature him forbids: Those pure immortal elements that know No gross, no unharmonious mixture foul, Eject him, tainted now; and purge him off, As a distemper, gross, to air as gross, And mortal food; as may dispose him best For dissolution wrought by sin, that first Distemper'd all things, and of incorrupt Corrupted. I at first, with two fair gifts Created him endow'd; with happiness, And immortality: that fondly lost, This other served but to eternize woe; Till I provided death: so death becomes His final remedy; and, after life, Tried in sharp tribulation, and refined, By faith and faithful works, to second life, Waked in the renovation of the just,
Resigns him up with heaven and earth renew'd.
But let us call to synod all the blest,
Through heaven's wide bounds: from them I will not
My judgments; how with mankind I proceed, As how with peccant angels late they saw,
And in their own, though firm, stood more confirm'd.'
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