My being gav'st me; whom should I obey But thee? whom follow? thou wilt bring me soon To that new world of light and bliss, among The gods who live at ease, where I shall reign At thy right hand voluptuous, as beseems Thy daughter and thy darling, without end. Thus saying, from her side the fatal key, Sad instrument of all our woe, she took; And tow'rds the gate rolling her bestial train, Forthwith the huge portcullis high up drew; Which, but herself, not all the Stygian powers Could once have mov'd; then in the key-hole turns Th' intricate wards, and every bolt and bar
Of massy iron or solid rock with ease Unfastens; on a sudden open fly,
With impetuous recoil and jarring sound, Th' infernal doors, and on their hinges grate Harsh thunder, that the lowest bottom shook Of Erebus. She open'd, but to shut
Excell'd her pow'r; the gates wide open stood, That with extended wings a banner'd host Under spread ensigns marching, might pass through, With horse and chariots rank'd in loose array; So wide they stood, and like a furnace-mouth Cast forth redounding smoke and ruddy fame. Before their eyes in sudden view appear The secrets of the hoary deep, a dark
Illimitable ocean, without bound,
Without dimension, where length, breadth, and height, And time, and place are lost; where eldest Night And Chaos, ancestors of Nature, hold
Eternal anarchy, amidst the noise
Of endless wars, and by confusion stand.
For hot, cold, moist, and dry, four champions fierce Strive here for mast'ry, and to battle bring Their embryon atoms; they around the flag Of each his faction, in their several clans, Light arm'd or heavy, sharp, smooth, swift or slow, Swarm populous, unnumber'd as the sands
Of Barca or Cyrene's torrid soil,
Levied to side with warring winds, and poise
Their lighter wings. To whom these most adhere, He rules a moment: Chaos umpire sits,
And by decision more embroils the fray,
By which he reigns; Chance governs all. The womb of nature,
Into this wild abyss, and perhaps her grave, Of neither sea, nor shore, nor air, nor fire, But all these in their pregnant causes mix'd Confus'dly, and which thus must ever fight, Unless th' Almighty Maker them ordain Ilis dark materials to create more worlds; Into this wild abyss the wary fiend
Stood on the brink of hell, and look'd awhile, Pond'ring his voyage; for no narrow frith He had to cross. Nor was his ear less peal'd With noises loud and ruinous, (to compare Great things with small), than when Beliona storms, With all her battering engines bent to rase Some capital city; or less than if his frame Of heav'n were falling, and these elements In mutiny had from her axle torn
The stedfast earth. At last his sail-broad vans He spreads for flight, and in the surging smoke Uplifted spurns the ground; thence many a league, As in a cloudy chair, ascending, rides
Audacious; but that seat soon failing, meets A vast vacuity: all unawares,
Flutt'ring his pennons vain, plumb down he drops Ten thousand fathom deep; and to this hour Down had been falling, had not by ill chance The strong rebuff of some tumultuous cloud, Instinct with fire and nitre, hurried him As many miles aloft; that fury stay'd, Quench'd in a boggy Syrtis, neither sea,
Nor good dry land, nigh founder'd, on he fares, Treading the crude consistence, half on foot, Half flying; behoves him now both oar and sail
As when a gryphon, through the wilderness
With winged course, o'er hill or moory dale, Pursues the Arimaspian, who by stealth Had from his wakeful custody purloin'd
The guarded gold: so eagerly the fiend
O'er bog, or steep, through strait, rough, dense, or rare, With head, hands, wings, or feet, pursues his way, And swims, or sinks, or wades, or creeps, or flies. At length a universal hubbub wild
Of stunning sounds, and voices all confus'd, Borne through the hollow dark, assaults his car With loudest vehemence: thither he plies, Undaunted to meet there whatever power Or spirit of the nethermost abyss
Might in that noise reside, of whom to ask Which way the nearest coast of darkness lies Bord'ring on light; when strait behold the throne Of Chaos, and his dark pavilion spread
Wide on the wasteful deep; with him enthron'd, Sat sable-vested Night, eldest of things, The consort of his reign; and by them stood Orcus and Ades, and the dreaded name Of Demogorgon; Rumor next, and Chance, And Tumult, and Confusion, all embroil'd, And Discord with a thousand various mouths. T' whom Satan, turning boldly, thus: Ye pow'rs And spirits of this nethermost abyss,
Chaos and ancient Night, I come no spy, With purpose to explore or to disturb The secrets of your realm; but by constraint Wand'ring this darksome desert, as my way Lies through your spacious empire up to light, Alone, and without guide, half lost, I seck What readiest path leads where your gloomy bounds Confine with heav'n; or if some other place, From your dominion won, th' ethereal King Possesses lately, thither to arrive
I travel this profound; direct my course: Directed, no mean recompence it brings
To your behoof; if I that region lost, All usurpation thence expell'd, reduce To her original darkness, and your sway, (Which is my present journey,) and once more Erect the standard there of ancient Night; Yours be th' advantage all, mine the revenge. Thus Satan; and him thus the Anarch old, With falt'ring speech and visage incompos'd, Answer'd: I know thee, stranger, who thou art, That mighty leading angel, who of late
Made head against heav'n's King, though overthrown. I saw, and heard; for such a numerous host Fled not in silence through the frighted deep, With ruin upon ruin, rout on rout,
Confusion worse confounded; and heav'n-gates Pour'd out by millions her victorious bands, Pursuing. I upon my frontiers here Keep residence; if all I can will serve That little which is left so to defend,
Encroach'd on still through your intestine broils Weak'ning the sceptre of old Night: first hell, Your dungeon, stretching far and wide beneath; Now lately heav'n and earth, another world, Hung o'er my realm, link'd in a golden chain To that side heav'n from whence your legions fell: If that way be your walk, you have not far; ; So much the nearer danger; go, and speed; Havoc, and spoil, and ruin, are my gain.
He ceas'd; and Satan stay'd not to reply, But, glad that now his sea should find a shore, With fresh alacrity, and force renew'd, Springs upward, like a pyramid of fire, Into the wild expanse; and through the shock Of fighting elements, on all sides round Environ'd, wings his way; harder beset And more endanger'd, than when Argo pass'd Through Bosporus, betwixt the justling rocks: Or when Ulysses on the larboard shunn'd Charybdis, and by th' other whirlpool steer'd.
So he with difficulty and labour hard
Mov'd on; with difficulty and labour he;. But, he once pass'd, soon after, when man fell, Strange alteration! Sin and Death amain, Following his track, such was the will of heav'n, Pav'd after him a broad and beaten way Over the dark abyss, whose boiling gulf Tamely endur'd a bridge of wondrous length, From hell continu'd, reaching th' utmost orb Of this frail world; by which th' spirits perverse With easy intercourse pass to and fro,
To tempt or punish mortals, except whom God and good angels guard by special grace. But now at last the sacred influence
Of light appears, and from the walls of heav'n Shoots far into the bosom of dim Night- A glimmering dawn: here Nature first begins Her farthest verge, and Chaos to retire, As from her outmost works a broken foe, With tumult less, and with less hostile din; That Satan with less toil, and now with ease, Wafts on the calmer wave by dubious light, And, like a weather-beaten vessel, holds Gladly the port, though shrouds and tackle torn; Or in the emptier waste, resembling air, Weighs his spread wings, at leisure to behold Far off th' empyreal heav'n, extended wide In circuit, undetermin'd square or round, With opal tow'rs and battlements adorn'd Of living sapphire, once his native seat; And fast by, hanging in a golden chain, This pendent world, in bigness as a star Of smallest magnitude, close by the moon. Thither, full fraught with mischievous revenge, Accurs'd, and in a cursed hour, he hies.
« PoprzedniaDalej » |