PARADISE LOST.

BOOK V.

THE ARGUMENT.

Morning approached, Eve relates to Adam her troublesome dream; he likes it not, yet comforts her: they come forth to their day-labours: their morning hymn at the door of their bower. God, to render man inexcusable, sends Raphael to admonish him of his obedience, of his free estate, of his enemy near at hand, who he is, and why his enemy, and whatever else may avail Adam to know. Raphael comes down to Paradise; his appearance described; his coming discerned by Adam afar off sitting at the door of his bower; he goes out to meet him, brings him to his lodge, entertains him with the choicest fruits of Paradise got together by Eve; their discourse at table: Raphael performs his message, minds Adam of his state and of his enemy; relates, at Adam's request, who that enemy is, and how he came to be so, beginning from his first revolt in Heaven, and the occasion thereof; how he drew his legions after him to the parts of the north, and there incited them to rebel with him, persuading all but only Abdiel a seraph, who in argument dissuades and opposes him, then forsakes him.

Now Morn, her rosy steps in the eastern clime
Advancing, sow'd the earth with orient pearl,
When Adam wak'd, so custom'd; for his sleep
Was aery-light, from pure digestion bred,
And temperate vapours bland, which the only

sound

eye

Knew never till this irksome night: methought Close at mine ear one call'd me forth to walk With gentle voice; I thought it thine: it said, 'Why sleep'st thou, Eve? now is the pleasant time,

The cool, the silent, save where silence yields
To the night-warbling bird, that now awake
Tunes sweetest his love-labour'd song; now
reigns
[light
Full-orb'd the Moon, and with more pleasing
Shadowy sets off the face of things; in vain,
If none regard; Heaven wakes with all his eyes,
Whom to behold but thee, Nature's desire?
In whose sight all things joy, with ravishment
Attracted by thy beauty still to gaze.'
I rose as at thy call, but found thee not;
To find thee I directed then my walk;
And on, methought, alone I pass'd through ways
That brought me on a sudden to the tree
Of interdicted knowledge: fair it seem'd,
Much fairer to my fancy than by day :
And, as I wondering look'd, beside it stood
One shap'd and wing'd like one of those from
Heaven

By us oft seen: his dewy locks distill'd
Ambrosia; on that tree he also gaz'd; [charg'd,
And O fair plant,' said he, with fruit sur-
Deigns none to ease thy load, and taste thy
sweet,

Nor God, nor Man? Is knowledge so despis'd?
Or envy, or what reserve forbids to taste?
Forbid who will, none shall from me withhold
Longer thy offer'd good; why else set here?'
This said, he paus'd not, but with venturous

arm

He pluck'd, he tasted; ine damp horrour chill'd
At such bold words vouch'd with a deed so bold :
But he thus, overjoy'd; 'O fruit divine,
Sweet of thyself, but much more sweet thus cropt,
Forbidden here, it seems, as only fit

For gods, yet able to make gods of men:
And why not gods of men; since, good, the

more

Communicated, more abundant grows,
The author not impair'd but honour'd more?
Here, happy creature, fair angelic Eve!
Partake thou also; happy though thou art,
Happier thou may'st be, worthier canst not be:
Taste this, and be henceforth among the gods
Thyself a goddess, not to Earth confin'd,
But sometimes in the air, as we, sometimes
Ascend to Heaven, by merit thine, and see
What life the gods live there, and such live
thou.'

So saying, he drew nigh, and to me held,
Even to my mouth of that same fruit held part
Which he had pluck'd: the pleasant savoury
smell

So quicken'd appetite, that I, methought,
Could not but taste. Forthwith up to the clouds
With him I flew, and underneath beheld
The Earth outstretch'd immense, a prospect wide
And various : wondering at my flight and
To this high exaltation; suddenly [change

My guide was gone, and I, methought, sunk down,

And fell asleep; but O, how glad I wak'd
To find this but a dream !" Thus Eve her night
Related, and thus Adam answer'd sad.

"Best image of myself, and dearer half,

The trouble of thy thoughts this night in sleep
Affects me equally; nor can I like
This uncouth dream, of evil sprung, I fear;
Yet evil whence? in thee can harbour none,
Created pure.
But know, that in the soul

Are many lesser faculties, that serve
Reason as chief; among these Fancy next
Her office holds; of all external things,
Which the five watchful senses represent,
She forms imaginations, aery shapes,
Which Reason, joining or disjoining, frames
All what we affirm or what deny, and call
Our knowledge or opinion; then retires
Into her private cell, when nature rests.
Oft in her absence mimic Fancy wakes
To imitate her; but, misjoining shapes,
Wild work produces oft, and most in dreams;
Ill matching words and deeds long past or late.
Some such resemblances, methinks, I find
Of our last evening's talk, in this thy dream,
But with addition strange; yet be not sad.
Evil into the mind of God or Man

May come and go, so unapprov'd, and leave
No spot or blame behind: which gives me hope
That what in sleep thou didst abhor to dream,
Waking thou never wilt consent to do.
Be not dishearten'd then, nor cloud those looks,
That wont to be more cheerful and serene,
Than when fair morning first smiles on the world;
And let us to our fresh employments rise
Among the groves, the fountains, and the flowers
That open now their choicest bosom'd smells,
Reserv'd from night, and kept for thee in store."
So cheer'd he his fair spouse, and she was
But silently a gentle tear let fall [cheer'd;
From either eye, and wip'd them with her hair;
Two other precious drops that ready stood,
Each in their crystal sluice, he ere they fell
Kiss'd, as the gracious signs of sweet remorse
And pious awe, that fear'd to have offended.

So all was clear'd, and to the field they haste.
But first, from under shady arborous roof
Soon as they forth were come to open sight
Of day-spring, and the Sun, who, scarce up-risen,
With wheels yet hovering o'er the ocean brim,
Shot parallel to the Earth his dewy ray,
Discovering in wide landscape all the east
Of Paradise and Eden's happy plains,
Lowly they bow'd adoring, and began
Their orisons, each morning duly paid

In various style; for neither various style
Nor holy rapture wanted they to praise
Their Maker, in fit strains pronounc'd, or sung
Unmeditated; such prompt eloquence [verse,
Flow'd from their lips, in prose or numerous
More tuneable than needed lute or harp
To add more sweetness; and they thus began.
"These are thy glorious works, Parent of good,
Almighty! Thine this universal frame,
Thus wonderous fair; Thyself how wonderous
Unspeakable, who sitst above these heavens [then!
To us invisible, or dimly seen

In these thy lowest works; yet these declare
Thy goodness beyond thought, and power divine.
Speak, ye who best can tell, ye sons of light,
Angels; for ye behold him, and with songs
And choral symphonies, day without night,
Circle his throne rejoicing; ye in Heaven.
On Earth join all ye creatures to extol
Him first, him last, him midst, and without end.

Fairest of stars, last in the train of night,
If better thou belong not to the dawn,
Sure pledge of day, that crown'st the smiling morn
With thy bright circlet, praise him in thy sphere,
While day arises, that sweet hour of prime.
Thou Sun, of this great world both eye and soul,
Acknowledge him thy greater; sound his praise
In thy eternal course, both when thou climb'st,
And when high noon hast gain'd, and when thou
fall'st.

Moon, that now meet'st the orient Sun, now fly'st,
With the fix'd stars, fix'd in their orb that flies;
And ye five other wandering fires, that move
In mystic dance not without song, resound
His praise, who out of darkness call'd up light.
Air, and ye elements, the eldest birth
Of Nature's womb, that in quaternion run
Perpetual circle, multiform; and mix
And nourish all things; let your ceaseless change
Vary to our great Maker still new praise.
Ye mists and exhalations, that now rise
From hill or steaming lake, dusky, or gray,
Till the Sun paint your fleecy skirts with gold,
In honour to the World's great Author rise;
Whether to deck with clouds the uncolour'd sky,
Or wet the thirsty Earth with falling showers,
Rising or falling still advance his praise.
His praise, ye winds, that from four quarters
blow,
[pines,
Breathe soft or loud; and wave your tops, ye
With every plant, in sign of worship wave.
Fountains, and ye that warble, as ye flow,
Melodious murmurs, warbling tune his praise.
Join voices, all ye living souls: ye birds,
That singing up to Heaven-gate ascend,
Bear on your wings and in your notes his praise.
Ye that in waters glide, and ye that walk
The earth, and stately tread, or lowly creep ;
Witness if I be silent, morn or even,
To hill, or valley, fountain, or fresh shade,
Made vocal by my song, and taught his praise.
Hail, universal Lord, be bounteous still
To give us only good; and if the night
Have gather'd aught of evil or conceal'd,
Disperse it, as now light dispels the dark!"

So pray'd they innocent, and to their thoughts
Firm peace recover'd soon, and wonted calm.
On to their morning's rural work they haste,
Among sweet dews and flowers; where any row
Of fruit-trees over-woody reach'd too far (check
Their pamper'd boughs, and needed hands to
Fruitless embraces: or they led the vine

To wed her elm; she, spous'd, about him twines
Her marriageable arms, and with her brings
Her dower, the adopted clusters, to adorn
His barren leaves. Them thus employ'd beheld
With pity Heaven's high King, and to him call'd
Raphael, the sociable spirit, that deign'd
To travel with Tobias, and secur'd
His marriage with the seventimes-wedded maid.
"Raphael," said he," thou bear'st what stir on

Earth

[gulf, Satan, from Hell 'scap'd through the darksome Hath rais'd in Paradise; and how disturb'd This night the human pair; how he designs In them at once to ruin all mankind.

Go therefore, half this day as friend with friend Converse with Adam, in what bower or shade Thou find'st him from the heat of noon retir'd, To respite his day-labour with repast,

Or with repose; and such discourse bring on,
As may advise him of his happy state,
Happiness in his power left free to will,
Left to his own free will, his will though free,
Yet mutable; whence warn him to beware
He swerve not, too secure: tell him withal
His danger, and from whom; what enemy,
Late fall'n himself from Heaven, is plotting now
The fall of others from like state of bliss ;
By violence? no, for that shall be withstood;
But by deceit and lies: this let him know,
Lest, wilfully transgressing, he pretend
Surprisal, unadmonish'd, unforewarn'd."

So spake the Eternal Father, and fulfill'd
All justice: nor delay'd the winged saint
After his charge receiv'd; but from among
Thousand celestial ardours, where he stood
Veil'd with his gorgeous wings, up springing
light
[quires,
Flew through the midst of Heaven; the angelic
On each hand parting, to his speed gave way
Through all the empyreal road; till, at the gate
Of Heaven arriv'd, the gate self-open'd wide
On golden hinges turning, as by work
Divine the sovran Architect had fram'd.
From hence no cloud, or, to obstruct his sight,
Star interpos'd, however small he sees,
Not unconform to other shining globes,
Earth, and the garden of God, with cedars
crown'd

Above all hills. As when by night the glass
Of Galileo, less assur'd, observes
Imagin'd lands and regions in the Moon :
Or pilot, from amidst the Cyclades
Delos or Samos first appearing, kens
A cloudy spot. Down thither prone in flight
He speeds, and through the vast ethereal sky
Sails between worlds and worlds, with steady
wing

Now on the polar winds, then with quick fan
Winnows the buxom air; till, within soar
Of towering eagles, to all the fowls he seems
A phenix, gaz'd by all, as that sole bird,
When, to enshrine his reliques in the Sun's
Bright temple, to Egyptian Thebes he flies.
At once on the eastern cliff of Paradise
He lights, and to his proper shape returns
A seraph wing'd: six wings he wore, to shade
His lineaments divine; the pair that clad
Fach shoulder broad, came mantling o'er his
With regal ornament; the middle pair [breast
Girt like a starry zone his waist, and round
Skirted his loins and thighs with downy gold
And colours dipt in Heaven; the third his feet
Shadow'd from either heel with feather'd mail,
Sky-tinetur'd grain. Like Maia's son he stood,
And shook his plumes, that heavenly fragrance
fill'd
[bands
The circuit wide. Straight knew him all the
Of angels under watch; and to his state,
And to his message high, in honour rise; [bound,
For on some message high they guess'd him
Their glittering tents he pass'd, and now is come
Into the blissful field, through groves of myrrh,
And flowering odours, cassia, nard, and balm;
A wilderness of sweets; for Nature here
Wanton'd as in her prime, and play'd at will
Her virgin fancies, pouring forth more sweet,
Wild above rule or art, enormous bliss,

mould,

[store,
Of God inspir'd! small store will serve, where
All seasons, ripe for use hangs on the stalk;
Save what by frugal storing firmness gains
To nourish, and superfluous moist consumes:
But I will haste, and from each bough and brake,
Each plant and juiciest gourd, will pluck such
choice

To entertain our angel-guest, as he
Beholding shall confess, that here on Earth
God hath dispens'd his bounties as in Heaven."

So saying, with dispatchful looks in haste
She turns, on hospitable thoughts intent
What choice to choose for delicacy best,
What order so contriv'd as not to mix
Tastes, not well join'd, inelegant, but bring
Taste after taste upheld with kindliest change:
Bestirs her then, and from each tender stalk
Whatever Earth, all-bearing mother, yields
In India East or West, or middle shore
In Pontus or the Punic coast, or where
Alcinous reign'd, fruit of all kinds, in coat
Rough, or smooth rind, or bearded husk, or shell,
She gathers, tribute large, and on the board
Heaps with unsparing hand; for drink the

grape

She crushes, inoffensive must, and meaths From many a berry, and from sweet kernels press'd

She tempers dulcet creams; nor these to hold Wants her fit vessels pure; then strows the ground

With rose and odours from the shrub unfum'd. Mean while our primitive great sire, to meet His God-like guest, walks forth, without more train

Accompanied than with his own complete Perfections; in himself was all his state, More solemn than the tedious pomp that waits On princes when their rich retinue long

Of horses led, and grooms besmear'd with gold,

Dazzles the croud, and sets them all agape.
Nearer his presence Adam, though not aw'd,
Yet with submiss approach and reverence meek,
As to a superior nature bowing low,

Thus said. "Native of Heaven, for other place None can than Heaven such glorious shape contain;

Since, by descending from the thrones above,
Those happy places thou hast deign'd a while
To want, and honour these, vouchsafe with us
Two only, who yet by sovran gift possess
This spacious ground, in yonder shady bower
To rest, and what the garden choicest bears
To sit and taste, till this meridian heat
Be over, and the Sun more cool decline."

Whom thus the angelic virtue answer'd mild.

"Adam, I therefore came; nor art thou such
Created, or such place hast here to dwell,
As may not oft invite, though spirits of Heaven,
To visit thee; lead on then where thy bower
O'ershades; for these mid-hours, till evening
rise,

I have at will." So to the sylvan lodge
They came, that like Pomona's arbour smil'd,
With flowerets deck'd, and fragrant smells; but
Eve,

Undeck'd save with herself, more lovely fair Than wood-nymph, or the fairest goddess feign'd

Of three that in mount Ida naked strove, [veil
Stood to entertain her guest from Heaven; no
She needed, virtue proof; no thought infirm
Alter'd her cheek. On whom the angel Hail
Bestow'd, the holy salutation us'd
Long after to blest Mary, second Eve.

[womb

"Hail, Mother of Mankind, whose fruitful Shall fill the world more numerous with thy sons, 'Than with these various fruits the trees of God Have heap'd this table."-Rais'd of grassy turf Their table was, and mossy seats had round, And on her ample square from side to side All autumn pil'd, though Spring and Autumn here [hold; Danc'd hand in hand. A while discourse they No fear lest dinner cool; when thus began Our author. "Heavenly stranger, please to taste These bounties, which our Nourisher, from whom

Allperfect good, unmeasur'd out, descends,
To us for food and for delight hath caus'd
The Earth to yield; unsavoury food perhaps
To spiritual natures; only this I know,
That one celestial Father gives to all.”

[gives

To whom the angel. "Therefore what he
(Whose praise be ever sung) to Man in part
Spiritual, may of purest spirits be found
No ingrateful food: and food alike those pure
Intelligential substances require,

As doth your rational; and both contain
Within them every lower faculty

[taste,

Of sense, whereby they hear, see, smell, touch,
Tasting concoct, digest, assimilate,
And corporeal to incorporeal turn.
For know, whatever was created, needs
To be sustain'd and fed: of elements
The grosser feeds the purer, earth the sea,.
Earth and the sea feed air, the air those fires

Ethereal, and as lowest first the Moon; Whence in her visage round those spots, un purg'd

Vapours not yet into her substance turn'd,
Nor doth the Moon no nourishment exhale
From her moist continent to higher orbs.
The Sun, that light imparts to all, receives
From all his alimental recompense
In humid exhalations, and at even [trees
Sups with the Ocean. Though in Heaven the
Of life ambrosial fruitage bear, and vines
Yield nectar; though from off the boughs each

morn

We brush mellifluous dews, and find the ground Cover'd with pearly grain: yet God hath here

Varied his bounty so with new delights,
As may compare with Heaven; and to taste
Think not I shall be nice." So down they sat,
And to their viands fell; nor seemingly
The angel, nor in mist, the common gloss
Of theologians; but with keen dispatch
Of real hunger, and concoctive heat
To transubstantiate: what redounds, transpires
Through spirits with ease; nor wonder; if by fire
Of sooty coal the empiric alchymist
Can turn, or holds it possible to turn,
Metals of drossiest ore to perfect gold,
As from the mine. Mean while at table Eve
Minister'd naked, and their flowing cups
With pleasant liquors crown'd: O innocence
Deserving Paradise! if ever, then,

Then had the sons of God excuse to have been
Enamour'd at that sight; but in those hearts
Love unlibidinous reign'd, nor jealousy
Was understood, the injur'd lover's Hell.

Thus when with meats and drinks they had suffic'd,

Not burthen'd nature, sudden mind arose
In Adam, not to let the occasion pass
Given him by this great conference to know
Of things above his world, and of their being
Who dwell in Heaven, whose excellence he saw
Transcend his own so far; whose radiant forms,
Divine effulgence, whose high power, so far
Exceeded human : and his wary speech
Thus to the empyrcal minister he fram'd.

"Inhabitant with God, now know I well Thy favour, in this honour done to man; Under whose lowly roof thou hast vouchsaf'd To enter, and these earthly fruits to taste, Food not of angels, yet accepted so,

As that more willingly thou couldst not seem At Heaven's high feasts to have fed: yet what compare?"

To whom the winged hierarch replied. "O Adam, one Almighty is, from whom All things proceed, and up to him return, If not deprav'd from good, created all Such to perfection, one first matter all, Endued with various forms, various degree Of substance, and, in things that live, of life; But more refin'd, more spiritous, and pure, As nearer to him plac'd, or nearer tending Each in their several active spheres assign'd, Till body up to spirit work, in bounds Proportion'd to each kind. So from the root Springs lighter the green stalk, from thence the

leaves

More aery, last the bright consummate flower