Nothing imperfect or deficient left
Of all that he created, much less man: Or aught that might his happy state secure, Secure from outward force: within himself The danger lies, yet lies within his power: Against his will he can receive no harm. But God left free the will; for what obeys Reason, is free: and reason he made right; But bid her well be ware, and still erect; Lest, by some fair-appearing good surprised, She dictate false; and misinform the will To do what God expressly hath forbid. Not then mistrust, but tender love, enjoins, That I should mind thee oft; and mind thou me. Firm we subsist, yet possible to swerve; Since reason not impossibly may meet Some specious object by the foe suborn'd; And fall into deception unaware,
Not keeping strictest watch, as she was warn'd. Seek not temptation then, which to avoid Were better, and most likely if from me Thou sever not: trial will come unsought. Wouldst thou approve thy constancy, approve First thy obedience: the' other who can know, Not seeing thee attempted, who attest? But, if thou think, trial unsought may find Us both securer than thus warn'd thou seem'st, Go! for thy stay, not free, absents thee more: Go in thy native innocence! rely
On what thou hast of virtue: summon all! For God towards thee hath done his part: do thine." So spake the patriarch of mankind; but Eve Persisted; yet submiss, though last, replied: "With thy permission then, and thus forewarn'd
Chiefly by what thy own last reasoning words Touch'd only; that our trial, when least sought, May find us both perhaps far less prepared, The willinger I go; nor much expect A foe so proud will first the weaker seek ; So bent, the more shall shame him his repulse." Thus saying, from her husband's hand her hand Soft she withdrew; and, like a wood-nymph light, Oread or Dryad, or of Delia's train,
Betook her to the groves; but Delia's self In gait surpass'd, and goddess-like deport; Though not as she with bow and quiver arm'd, But with such gardening tools as art yet rude, Guiltless of fire, had form'd, or angels brought. To Pales, or Pomona, thus adorn'd,
Likest she seem'd, Pomona when she fled Vertumnus; or to Ceres in her prime, Yet virgin of Proserpina from Jove. Her long with ardent look his eye pursued Delighted, but desiring more her stay. Oft he to her his charge of quick return Repeated; she to him as oft engaged To be return'd by noon amid the bower, And all things in best order to invite Noontide repast, or afternoon's repose. O much deceived, much failing, hapless Eve, Of thy presumed return! event perverse! Thou never from that hour in Paradise Found'st either sweet repast, or sound repose: Such ambush, hid among sweet flowers and shades, Waited with hellish rancor imminent
To intercept thy way, or send thee back Despoil'd of innocence, of faith, of bliss!
For now, and since first break of dawn, the Fiend,
Mere serpent in appearance, forth was come; And on his quest, where likeliest he might find The only two of mankind, but in them
The whole included race, his purposed prey. In bower and field he sought, where any tuft Of grove or garden-plot more pleasant lay, Their tendance, or plantation for delight; By fountain or by shady rivulet
He sought them both; but wish'd his hap might find Eve separate he wish'd, but not with hope Of what so seldom chanced; when to his wish, Beyond his hope, Eve separate he spies,
Veil'd in a cloud of fragrance, where she stood Half spied, so thick the roses blushing round About her glow'd, oft stooping to support [gay Each flower of slender stalk, whose head, though Carnation, purple, azure, or speck'd with gold, Hung drooping unsustain'd: them she upstays Gently with myrtle band, mindless the while Herself, though fairest unsupported flower, From her best prop so far, and storm so nigh. Nearer he drew, and many a walk traversed Of stateliest covert, cedar, pine, or palm; Then voluble and bold, now hid, now seen, Among thick-woven arborets, and flowers Embroider'd on each bank, the hand of Eve: Spot more delicious than those gardens feign'd Or of revived Adonis, or renown'd
Alcinous, host of old Laertes' son;
Or that, not mystic, where the sapient king Held dalliance with his fair Egyptian spouse. Much he the place admired, the person more. As one, who long in populous city pent, Where houses thick and sewers annoy the air,
Forth issuing on a summer's morn, to breathe Among the pleasant villages and farms Adjoin'd, from each thing met conceives delight; The smell of grain, or tedded grass, or kine, Or dairy, each rural sight, each rural sound: If chance, with nymph-like step, fair virgin pass, What pleasing seem'd, for her now pleases more; She most, and in her look sums all delight. Such pleasure took the serpent to behold This flowery plat, the sweet recess of Eve, Thus early, thus alone. Her heavenly form. Angelic, but more soft, and feminine, Her graceful innocence, her every air Of gesture or least action overawed
His malice, and with rapine sweet bereaved His fierceness of the fierce intent it brought: That space the Evil-one abstracted stood From his own evil, and for the time remain'd Stupidly good; of enmity disarm'd, Of guile, of hate, of envy, of revenge. But the hot hell that always in him burns, Though in mid heaven, soon ended his delight, And tortures him now more, the more he sees Of pleasure, not for him ordain'd: then soon Fierce hate he recollects, and all his thoughts Of mischief, gratulating, thus excites: "Thoughts, whither have ye Compulsion thus transported, to forget
[sweet What hither brought us! hate, not love; nor hope Of Paradise for hell, hope here to taste Of pleasure; but all pleasure to destroy, Save what is in destroying: other joy To me is lost. Then, let me not let pass Occasion which now smiles: behold alone
The woman, opportune to all attempts; Her husband, for I view far round, not nigh, Whose higher intellectual more I shun, And strength, of courage haughty, and of limb Heroic built; though of terrestrial mold, Foe not informidable! exempt from wound, I not; so much hath hell debased, and pain Enfeebled me, to what I was in heaven. She fair, divinely fair, fit love for gods! Not terrible, though terror be in love
And beauty, not approach'd by stronger hate; Hate stronger, under show of love well feign'd; The way which to her ruin now I tend."
So spake the enemy of mankind, enclosed In serpent, inmate bad! and toward Eve Address'd his way: not with indented wave, Prone on the ground, as since; but on his rear, Circular base of rising folds, that tower'd Fold above fold, a surging maze: his head Crested aloft, and carbuncle his eyes; With burnish'd neck of verdant gold, erect Amidst his circling spires, that on the grass Floated redundant. Pleasing was his shape And lovely; never since of serpent-kind Lovelier, not those that in Illyria changed, Hermione and Cadmus, or the god In Epidaurus; nor to which transform'd Ammonian Jove, or Capitoline, was seen; He with Olympias; this with her who bore Scipio, the highth of Rome. With tract oblique At first, as one who sought access, but fear'd To interrupt, side-long he works his way. As when a ship, by skilful steersmen wrought Nigh river's mouth or foreland, where the wind
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