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 dy'd her cheeks with pale. But Adam with such counsel nothing sway'd To better hopes his more attentive mind Lab'ring had rais'd, and thus to Eve reply'd. 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 overlov'd. Or if thou covet death, as utmost end
Of misery, so thinking to evade
The penalty pronounc'd, doubt not but Cod
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 contriv'd Against us this deceit: to crush his head Would be revenge indeed; which will be lost By death brought on ourselves, or childless days Resolv'd 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'd 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 judg'd Without wrath or reviling; we expected Immediate dissolution, which we thought
Was meant by death that day, when lo, to thee Pains only in child-bearing were foretold, And bringing forth, soon recompens’d with joy,
Fruit of thy womb: on me the curse aslope
Glanc'd 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 Cloth'd us unworthy, pitying while he judg'd; 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 Th' 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 gather'd 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, 1080
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 judg'd 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 1090 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 remorse: they forthwith to the place Repairing where he judg'd 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 END OF THE TENTH BOOK.
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; sends 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's lamentation. Admit 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 remov'd The stony from their hearts, and made new flesh Regenerate grow instead, that sighs now breath'd Unutterable, which the Spi'rit of prayer
Inspir'd, and wing'd for Heav'n with speedier flight Than loudest oratory: yet their port
Not of mean suitors, nor important less
Seem'd their petition, than when th' 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 Heav'n their prayers Flew up, nor miss'd the way, by envious winds Blown vagabond or frustrate: in they pass'd Dimensionless through heav'nly doors; then clad With incense, where the golden altar fum'd,
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