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Paradise Lost Book IX

No more of talk where God or Angel guest With Man, as with his friend, familiar us'd,

To sit indulgent, and with him partake Rural repast; permitting him the while Venial discourse unblam'd.

I now must change Those notes to tragick; foul distrust, and breach Disloyal on the part of Man, revolt,

And disobedience: on the part of Heaven Now alienated, distance and distaste,

Anger and just rebuke, and judgement given,

That brought into this world a world of woe,

Sin and her shadow Death, and Misery Death's harbinger:

Sad talk!yet argument Not less but more heroick than the wrath Of stern Achilles on his foe pursued Thrice fugitive about Troy wall; or rage Of Turnus for Lavinia disespous'd;

Or Neptune's ire, or Juno's, that so long Perplexed the Greek, and Cytherea's son:

If answerable style I can obtain Of my celestial patroness, who deigns Her nightly visitation unimplor'd,

And dictates to me slumbering; or inspires Easy my unpremeditated verse:

Since first this subject for heroick song Pleas'd me long choosing, and beginning late;

Not sedulous by nature to indite Wars, hitherto the only argument Heroick deem'd chief mastery to dissect With long and tedious havock fabled knights In battles feign'd; the better fortitude Of patience and heroick martyrdom Unsung; or to describe races and games,

Or tilting furniture, imblazon'd shields,

Impresses quaint, caparisons and steeds,

Bases and tinsel trappings, gorgeous knights At joust and tournament; then marshall'd feast Serv'd up in hall with sewers and seneshals;

The skill of artifice or office mean,

Not that which justly gives heroick name To person, or to poem.  Me, of these Nor skill'd nor studious, higher argument Remains; sufficient of itself to raise That name, unless an age too late, or cold Climate, or years, damp my intended wing Depress'd; and much they may, if all be mine,

Not hers, who brings it nightly to my ear.

The sun was sunk, and after him the star Of Hesperus, whose office is to bring Twilight upon the earth, short arbiter 'Twixt day and night, and now from end to end Night's hemisphere had veil'd the horizon round:

When satan, who late fled before the threats Of Gabriel out of Eden, now improv'd In meditated fraud and malice, bent On Man's destruction, maugre what might hap Of heavier on himself, fearless returned By night he fled, and at midnight

From compassing the earth; cautious of day,

Since Uriel, regent of the sun, descried His entrance, and foreworned the Cherubim That kept their watch; thence full of anguish driven,

The space of seven continued nights he rode With darkness; thrice the equinoctial line He circled; four times crossed the car of night From pole to pole, traversing each colure;

On the eighth returned; and, on the coast averse From entrance or Cherubick watch, by stealth Found unsuspected way.  There was a place,

Now not, though sin, not time, first wrought the change,

Where Tigris, at the foot of Paradise,

Into a gulf shot under ground, till part Rose up a fountain by the tree of life:

In with the river sunk, and with it rose Satan, involved in rising mist; then sought Where to lie hid; sea he had searched, and land,

From Eden over Pontus and the pool Maeotis, up beyond the river Ob;

Downward as far antarctick; and in length,

West from Orontes to the ocean barred At Darien ; thence to the land where flows Ganges and Indus:

Thus the orb he roamed With narrow search; and with inspection deep Considered every creature, which of all Most opportune might serve his wiles; and found The Serpent subtlest beast of all the field.

Him after long debate, irresolute Of thoughts revolved, his final sentence chose Fit vessel, fittest imp of fraud, in whom To enter, and his dark suggestions hide From sharpest sight: for, in the wily snake Whatever sleights, none would suspicious mark,

As from his wit and native subtlety Proceeding; which, in other beasts observed,

Doubt might beget of diabolick power Active within, beyond the sense of brute.

Thus he resolved, but first from inward grief His bursting passion into plaints thus poured.

More justly, seat worthier of Gods, as built With second thoughts, reforming what was old!

O Earth, how like to Heaven, if not preferred For what God, after better, worse would build?

Terrestrial Heaven, danced round by other Heavens That shine, yet bear their bright officious lamps,

Light above light, for thee alone, as seems,

In thee concentring all their precious beams Of sacred influence!  As God in Heaven Is center, yet extends to all; so thou,

Centring, receivest from all those orbs: in thee,

Not in themselves, all their known virtue appears Productive in herb, plant, and nobler birth Of creatures animate with gradual life Of growth, sense, reason, all summed up in Man.

With what delight could I have walked thee round,

If I could joy in aught, sweet interchange Of hill, and valley, rivers, woods, and plains,

Now land, now sea and shores with forest crowned,

Rocks, dens, and caves!  But I in none of these Find place or refuge; and the more I see Pleasures about me, so much more I feel Torment within me, as from the hateful siege Of contraries: all good to me becomes Bane, and in Heaven much worse would be my state.

But neither here seek I, no nor in Heaven To dwell, unless by mastering Heaven's Supreme;

Nor hope to be myself less miserable By what I seek, but others to make such As I, though thereby worse to me redound:

For only in destroying I find ease To my relentless thoughts; and, him destroyed,

Or won to what may work his utter loss,

For whom all this was made, all this will soon Follow, as to him linked in weal or woe;

In woe then; that destruction wide may range:

To me shall be the glory sole among The infernal Powers, in one day to have marred What he,

Almighty styled, six nights and days Continued making; and who knows how long Before had been contriving? though perhaps Not longer than since I, in one night, freed From servitude inglorious well nigh half The angelick name, and thinner left the throng Of his adorers:

He, to be avenged,

And to repair his numbers thus impaired,

Whether such virtue spent of old now failed More Angels to create, if they at least Are his created, or, to spite us more,

Determined to advance into our room A creature formed of earth, and him endow,

Exalted from so base original,

With heavenly spoils, our spoils:

What he decreed,

He effected;

Man he made, and for him built Magnificent this world, and earth his seat,

Him lord pronounced; and,

O indignity!

Subjected to his service angel-wings,

And flaming ministers to watch and tend Their earthly charge:

Of these the vigilance I dread; and, to elude, thus wrapt in mist Of midnight vapour glide obscure, and pry In every bush and brake, where hap may find The serpent sleeping; in whose mazy folds To hide me, and the dark intent I bring.

O foul descent! that I, who erst contended With Gods to sit the highest, am now constrained Into a beast; and, mixed with bestial slime,

This essence to incarnate and imbrute,

That to the highth of Deity aspired!

But what will not ambition and revenge Descend to?  Who aspires, must down as low As high he soared; obnoxious, first or last,

To basest things.  Revenge, at first though sweet,

Bitter ere long, back on itself recoils:

Let it;

I reck not, so it light well aimed,

Since higher I fall short, on him who next Provokes my envy, this new favourite Of Heaven, this man of clay, son of despite,

Whom, us the more to spite, his Maker raised From dust:

Spite then with spite is best repaid.

So saying, through each thicket dank or dry,

Like a black mist low-creeping, he held on His midnight-search, where soonest he might find The serpent; him fast-sleeping soon he found In labyrinth of many a round self-rolled,

His head the midst, well stored with subtile wiles:

Not yet in horrid shade or dismal den,

Nor nocent yet; but, on the grassy herb,

Fearless unfeared he slept: in at his mouth The Devil entered; and his brutal sense,

In heart or head, possessing, soon inspired With act intelligential; but his sleep Disturbed not, waiting close the approach of morn.

Now, when as sacred light began to dawn In Eden on the humid flowers, that breathed Their morning incense, when all things, that breathe,

From the Earth's great altar send up silent praise To the Creator, and his nostrils fill With grateful smell, forth came the human pair,

And joined their vocal worship to the quire Of creatures wanting voice; that done, partake The season prime for sweetest scents and airs:

Then commune, how that day they best may ply Their growing work: for much their work out-grew The hands' dispatch of two gardening so wide,

And Eve first to her husband thus began.

Adam, well may we labour still to dress This garden, still to tend plant, herb, and flower,

Our pleasant task enjoined; but, till more hands Aid us, the work under our labour grows,

Luxurious by restraint; what we by day Lop overgrown, or prune, or prop, or bind,

One night or two with wanton growth derides Tending to wild.  Thou therefore now advise,

Or bear what to my mind first thoughts present:

Let us divide our labours; thou, where choice Leads thee, or where most needs, whether to wind The woodbine round this arbour, or direct The clasping ivy where to climb; while I,

In yonder spring of roses intermixed With myrtle, find what to redress till noon:

For, while so near each other thus all day Our task we choose, what wonder if so near Looks intervene and smiles, or object new Casual discourse draw on; which intermits Our day's work, brought to little, though begun Early, and the hour of supper comes unearned?

To whom mild answer Adam thus returned.

Sole Eve, associate sole, to me beyond Compare above all living creatures dear!

Well hast thou motioned, well thy thoughts employed,

How we might best fulfil the work which here God hath assigned us; nor of me shalt pass Unpraised: for nothing lovelier can be found In woman, than to study houshold good,

And good works in her husband to promote.

Yet not so strictly hath our Lord imposed Labour, as to debar us when we need Refreshment, whether food, or talk between,

Food of the mind, or this sweet intercourse Of looks and smiles; for smiles from reason flow,

To brute denied, and are of love the food;

Love, not the lowest end of human life.

For not to irksome toil, but to delight,

He made us, and delight to reason joined.

These paths and bowers doubt not but our joint hands Will keep from wilderness with ease, as wide As we need walk, till younger hands ere long Assist us;

But, if much converse perhaps Thee satiate, to short absence I could yield:

For solitude sometimes is best society,

And short retirement urges sweet return.

But other doubt possesses me, lest harm Befall thee severed from me; for thou knowest What hath been warned us, what malicious foe Envying our happiness, and of his own Despairing, seeks to work us woe and shame By sly assault; and somewhere nigh at hand Watches, no doubt, with greedy hope to find His wish and best advantage, us asunder;

Hopeless to circumvent us joined, where each To other speedy aid might lend at need:

Whether his first design be to withdraw Our fealty from God, or to disturb Conjugal love, than which perhaps no bliss Enjoyed by us excites his envy more;

Or this, or worse, leave not the faithful side That gave thee being, still shades thee, and protects.

The wife, where danger or dishonour lurks,

Safest and seemliest by her husband stays,

Who guards her, or with her the worst endures.

To whom the virgin majesty of Eve,

As one who loves, and some unkindness meets,

With sweet austere composure thus replied.

Offspring of Heaven and Earth, and all Earth's Lord!

That such an enemy we have, who seeks Our ruin, both by thee informed I learn,

And from the parting Angel over-heard,

As in a shady nook I stood behind,

Just then returned at shut of evening flowers.

But, that thou shouldst my firmness therefore doubt To God or thee, because we have a foe May tempt it,

I expected not to hear.

His violence thou fearest not, being such As we, not capable of death or pain,

Can either not receive, or can repel.

His fraud is then thy fear; which plain infers Thy equal fear, that my firm faith and love Can by his fraud be shaken or seduced;

Thoughts, which how found they harbour in thy breast,

Adam, mis-thought of her to thee so dear?

To whom with healing words Adam replied.

Daughter of God and Man, immortal Eve!

For such thou art; from sin and blame entire:

Not diffident of thee do I dissuade Thy absence from my sight, but to avoid The attempt itself, intended by our foe.

For he who tempts, though in vain, at least asperses The tempted with dishonour foul; supposed Not incorruptible of faith, not proof Against temptation:

Thou thyself with scorn And anger wouldst resent the offered wrong,

Though ineffectual found: misdeem not then,

If such affront I labour to avert From thee alone, which on us both at once The enemy, though bold, will hardly dare;

Or daring, first on me the assault shall light.

Nor thou his malice and false guile contemn;

Subtle he needs must be, who could seduce Angels; nor think superfluous other's aid.

I, from the influence of thy looks, receive Access in every virtue; in thy sight More wise, more watchful, stronger, if need were Of outward strength; while shame, thou looking on,

Shame to be overcome or over-reached,

Would utmost vigour raise, and raised unite.

Why shouldst not thou like sense within thee feel When I am present, and thy trial choose With me, best witness of thy virtue tried?

So spake domestick Adam in his care And matrimonial love; but Eve, who thought Less attributed to her faith sincere,

Thus her reply with accent sweet renewed.

If this be our condition, thus to dwell In narrow circuit straitened by a foe,

Subtle or violent, we not endued Single with like defence, wherever met;

How are we happy, still in fear of harm?

But harm precedes not sin: only our foe,

Tempting, affronts us with his foul esteem Of our integrity: his foul esteem Sticks no dishonour on our front, but turns Foul on himself; then wherefore shunned or feared By us? who rather double honour gain From his surmise proved false; find peace within,

Favour from Heaven, our witness, from the event.

And what is faith, love, virtue, unassayed Alone, without exteriour help sustained?

Let us not then suspect our happy state Left so imperfect by the Maker wise,

As not secure to single or combined.

Frail is our happiness, if this be so,

And Eden were no Eden, thus exposed.

To whom thus Adam fervently replied.

O Woman, best are all things as the will Of God ordained them:

His creating hand 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 mis-inform 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 suborned,

And fall into deception unaware,

Not keeping strictest watch, as she was warned.

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 warned thou seemest,

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 forewarned Chiefly by what thy own last reasoning words Touched 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 surpassed, and Goddess-like deport,

Though not as she with bow and quiver armed,

But with such gardening tools as Art yet rude,

Guiltless of fire, had formed, or Angels brought.

To Pales, or Pomona, thus adorned,

Likest she seemed,

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 returned 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 Foundst either sweet repast, or sound repose;

Such ambush, hid among sweet flowers and shades,

Waited with hellish rancour imminent To intercept thy way, or send thee back Despoiled 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 wished his hap might find Eve separate; he wished, but not with hope Of what so seldom chanced; when to his wish,

Beyond his hope,

Eve separate he spies,

Veiled in a cloud of fragrance, where she stood,

Half spied, so thick the roses blushing round About her glowed, oft stooping to support Each flower of slender stalk, whose head, though gay Carnation, purple, azure, or specked with gold,

Hung drooping unsustained; 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 Imbordered on each bank, the hand of Eve:

Spot more delicious than those gardens feigned Or of revived Adonis, or renowned Alcinous, host of old Laertes' son;

Or that, not mystick, 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 Adjoined, 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 seemed, 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 Angelick, 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 remained Stupidly good; of enmity disarmed,

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 ordained: then soon Fierce hate he recollects, and all his thoughts Of mischief, gratulating, thus excites.

Thoughts, whither have ye led me! with what sweet Compulsion thus transported, to forget 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 Heroick built, though of terrestrial mould;

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 terrour be in love And beauty, not approached by stronger hate,

Hate stronger, under show of love well feigned;

The way which to her ruin now I tend.

So spake the enemy of mankind, enclosed In serpent, inmate bad! and toward Eve Addressed his way: not with indented wave,

Prone on the ground, as since; but on his rear,

Circular base of rising folds, that towered Fold above fold, a surging maze! his head Crested aloft, and carbuncle his eyes;

With burnished 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 transformed 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 feared 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 Veers oft, as oft so steers, and shifts her sail:

So varied he, and of his tortuous train Curled many a wanton wreath in sight of Eve,

To lure her eye; she, busied, heard the sound Of rusling leaves, but minded not, as used To such disport before her through the field,

From every beast; more duteous at her call,

Than at Circean call the herd disguised.

He, bolder now, uncalled before her stood,

But as in gaze admiring: oft he bowed His turret crest, and sleek enamelled neck,

Fawning; and licked the ground whereon she trod.

His gentle dumb expression turned at length The eye of Eve to mark his play; he, glad Of her attention gained, with serpent-tongue Organick, or impulse of vocal air,

His fraudulent temptation thus began.

Wonder not, sovran Mistress, if perhaps Thou canst, who art sole wonder! much less arm Thy looks, the Heaven of mildness, with disdain,

Displeased that I approach thee thus, and gaze Insatiate;

I thus single;nor have feared Thy awful brow, more awful thus retired.

Fairest resemblance of thy Maker fair,

Thee all things living gaze on, all things thine By gift, and thy celestial beauty adore With ravishment beheld! there best beheld,

Where universally admired; but here In this enclosure wild, these beasts among,

Beholders rude, and shallow to discern Half what in thee is fair, one man except,

Who sees thee? and what is one? who should be seen A Goddess among Gods, adored and served By Angels numberless, thy daily train.

So glozed the Tempter, and his proem tuned:

Into the heart of Eve his words made way,

Though at the voice much marvelling; at length,

Not unamazed, she thus in answer spake.

What may this mean? language of man pronounced By tongue of brute, and human sense expressed?

The first, at least, of these I thought denied To beasts; whom God, on their creation-day,

Created mute to all articulate sound:

The latter I demur; for in their looks Much reason, and in their actions, oft appears.


Serpent, subtlest beast of all the field I knew, but not with human voice endued;

Redouble then this miracle, and say,

How camest thou speakable of mute, and how To me so friendly grown above the rest Of brutal kind, that daily are in sight?

Say, for such wonder claims attention due.

To whom the guileful Tempter thus replied.

Empress of this fair world, resplendent Eve!

Easy to me it is to tell thee all What thou commandest; and right thou shouldst be obeyed:

I was at first as other beasts that graze The trodden herb, of abject thoughts and low,

As was my food; nor aught but food discerned Or sex, and apprehended nothing high:

Till, on a day roving the field,

I chanced A goodly tree far distant to behold Loaden with fruit of fairest colours mixed,

Ruddy and gold:

I nearer drew to gaze;

When from the boughs a savoury odour blown,

Grateful to appetite, more pleased my sense Than smell of sweetest fennel, or the teats Of ewe or goat dropping with milk at even,

Unsucked of lamb or kid, that tend their play.

To satisfy the sharp desire I had Of tasting those fair apples,

I resolved Not to defer; hunger and thirst at once,

Powerful persuaders, quickened at the scent Of that alluring fruit, urged me so keen.

About the mossy trunk I wound me soon;

For, high from ground, the branches would require Thy utmost reach or Adam's:

Round the tree All other beasts that saw, with like desire Longing and envying stood, but could not reach.

Amid the tree now got, where plenty hung Tempting so nigh, to pluck and eat my fill I spared not; for, such pleasure till that hour,

At feed or fountain, never had I found.

Sated at length, ere long I might perceive Strange alteration in me, to degree Of reason in my inward powers; and speech Wanted not long; though to this shape retained.

Thenceforth to speculations high or deep I turned my thoughts, and with capacious mind Considered all things visible in Heaven,

Or Earth, or Middle; all things fair and good:

But all that fair and good in thy divine Semblance, and in thy beauty's heavenly ray,

United I beheld; no fair to thine Equivalent or second! which compelled Me thus, though importune perhaps, to come And gaze, and worship thee of right declared Sovran of creatures, universal Dame!

So talked the spirited sly Snake; and Eve,

Yet more amazed, unwary thus replied.

Serpent, thy overpraising leaves in doubt The virtue of that fruit, in thee first proved:

But say, where grows the tree? from hence how far?

For many are the trees of God that grow In Paradise, and various, yet unknown To us; in such abundance lies our choice,

As leaves a greater store of fruit untouched,

Still hanging incorruptible, till men Grow up to their provision, and more hands Help to disburden Nature of her birth.

To whom the wily Adder, blithe and glad.

Empress, the way is ready, and not long;

Beyond a row of myrtles, on a flat,

Fast by a fountain, one small thicket past Of blowing myrrh and balm: if thou accept My conduct,

I can bring thee thither soon Lead then, said Eve.  He, leading, swiftly rolled In tangles, and made intricate seem straight,

To mischief swift.  Hope elevates, and joy Brightens his crest; as when a wandering fire,

Compact of unctuous vapour, which the night Condenses, and the cold environs round,

Kindled through agitation to a flame,

Which oft, they say, some evil Spirit attends,

Hovering and blazing with delusive light,

Misleads the amazed night-wanderer from his way To bogs and mires, and oft through pond or pool;

There swallowed up and lost, from succour far.

So glistered the dire Snake, and into fraud Led Eve, our credulous mother, to the tree Of prohibition, root of all our woe;

Which when she saw, thus to her guide she spake.

Serpent, we might have spared our coming hither,

Fruitless to me, though fruit be here to excess,

The credit of whose virtue rest with thee;

Wonderous indeed, if cause of such effects.

But of this tree we may not taste nor touch;

God so commanded, and left that command Sole daughter of his voice; the rest, we live Law to ourselves; our reason is our law.

To whom the Tempter guilefully replied.

Indeed! hath God then said that of the fruit Of all these garden-trees ye shall not eat,

Yet Lords declared of all in earth or air$?

To whom thus Eve, yet sinless.  Of the fruit Of each tree in the garden we may eat;

But of the fruit of this fair tree amidst The garden,

God hath said,

Ye shall not eat Thereof, nor shall ye touch it, lest ye die.

She scarce had said, though brief, when now more bold The Tempter, but with show of zeal and love To Man, and indignation at his wrong,

New part puts on; and, as to passion moved,

Fluctuates disturbed, yet comely and in act Raised, as of some great matter to begin.

As when of old some orator renowned,

In Athens or free Rome, where eloquence Flourished, since mute! to some great cause addressed,

Stood in himself collected; while each part,

Motion, each act, won audience ere the tongue;

Sometimes in highth began, as no delay Of preface brooking, through his zeal of right:

So standing, moving, or to highth up grown,

The Tempter, all impassioned, thus began.

O sacred, wise, and wisdom-giving Plant,

Mother of science! now I feel thy power Within me clear; not only to discern Things in their causes, but to trace the ways Of highest agents, deemed however wise.

Queen of this universe! do not believe Those rigid threats of death: ye shall not die:

How should you? by the fruit? it gives you life To knowledge; by the threatener? look on me,

Me, who have touched and tasted; yet both live,

And life more perfect have attained than Fate Meant me, by venturing higher than my lot.

Shall that be shut to Man, which to the Beast Is open? or will God incense his ire For such a petty trespass? and not praise Rather your dauntless virtue, whom the pain Of death denounced, whatever thing death be,

Deterred not from achieving what might lead To happier life, knowledge of good and evil;

Of good, how just? of evil, if what is evil Be real, why not known, since easier shunned?

God therefore cannot hurt ye, and be just;

Not just, not God; not feared then, nor obeyed:

Your fear itself of death removes the fear.

Why then was this forbid?  Why, but to awe;

Why, but to keep ye low and ignorant,

His worshippers?  He knows that in the day Ye eat thereof, your eyes that seem so clear,

Yet are but dim, shall perfectly be then Opened and cleared, and ye shall be as Gods,

Knowing both good and evil, as they know.

That ye shall be as Gods, since I as Man,

Internal Man, is but proportion meet;

I, of brute, human; ye, of human,


So ye shall die perhaps, by putting off Human, to put on Gods; death to be wished,

Though threatened, which no worse than this can bring.

And what are Gods, that Man may not become As they, participating God-like food?

The Gods are first, and that advantage use On our belief, that all from them proceeds:

I question it; for this fair earth I see,

Warmed by the sun, producing every kind;

Them, nothing: if they all things, who enclosed Knowledge of good and evil in this tree,

That whoso eats thereof, forthwith attains Wisdom without their leave? and wherein lies The offence, that Man should thus attain to know?

What can your knowledge hurt him, or this tree Impart against his will, if all be his?

Or is it envy? and can envy dwell In heavenly breasts?  These, these, and many more Causes import your need of this fair fruit.

Goddess humane, reach then, and freely taste!

He ended; and his words, replete with guile,

Into her heart too easy entrance won:

Fixed on the fruit she gazed, which to behold Might tempt alone; and in her ears the sound Yet rung of his persuasive words, impregned With reason, to her seeming, and with truth:

Mean while the hour of noon drew on, and waked An eager appetite, raised by the smell So savoury of that fruit, which with desire,

Inclinable now grown to touch or taste,

Solicited her longing eye; yet first Pausing a while, thus to herself she mused.

Great are thy virtues, doubtless, best of fruits,

Though kept from man, and worthy to be admired;

Whose taste, too long forborn, at first assay Gave elocution to the mute, and taught The tongue not made for speech to speak thy praise:

Thy praise he also, who forbids thy use,

Conceals not from us, naming thee the tree Of knowledge, knowledge both of good and evil;

Forbids us then to taste! but his forbidding Commends thee more, while it infers the good By thee communicated, and our want:

For good unknown sure is not had; or, had And yet unknown, is as not had at all.

In plain then, what forbids he but to know,

Forbids us good, forbids us to be wise?

Such prohibitions bind not.  But, if death Bind us with after-bands, what profits then Our inward freedom?  In the day we eat Of this fair fruit, our doom is, we shall die!

How dies the Serpent? he hath eaten and lives,

And knows, and speaks, and reasons, and discerns,

Irrational till then.  For us alone Was death invented? or to us denied This intellectual food, for beasts reserved?

For beasts it seems: yet that one beast which first Hath tasted envies not, but brings with joy The good befallen him, author unsuspect,

Friendly to man, far from deceit or guile.

What fear I then? rather, what know to fear Under this ignorance of good and evil,

Of God or death, of law or penalty?

Here grows the cure of all, this fruit divine,

Fair to the eye, inviting to the taste,

Of virtue to make wise:  What hinders then To reach, and feed at once both body and mind?

So saying, her rash hand in evil hour Forth reaching to the fruit, she plucked, she eat!

Earth felt the wound; and Nature from her seat,

Sighing through all her works, gave signs of woe,

That all was lost.  Back to the thicket slunk The guilty Serpent; and well might;for Eve,

Intent now wholly on her taste, nought else Regarded; such delight till then, as seemed,

In fruit she never tasted, whether true Or fancied so, through expectation high Of knowledge; not was Godhead from her thought.

Greedily she ingorged without restraint,

And knew not eating death:  Satiate at length,

And hightened as with wine, jocund and boon,

Thus to herself she pleasingly began.

O sovran, virtuous, precious of all trees In Paradise! of operation blest To sapience, hitherto obscured, infamed.

And thy fair fruit let hang, as to no end Created; but henceforth my early care,

Not without song, each morning, and due praise,

Shall tend thee, and the fertile burden ease Of thy full branches offered free to all;

Till, dieted by thee,

I grow mature In knowledge, as the Gods, who all things know;

Though others envy what they cannot give:

For, had the gift been theirs, it had not here Thus grown.  Experience, next, to thee I owe,

Best guide; not following thee,

I had remained In ignorance; thou openest wisdom's way,

And givest access, though secret she retire.

And I perhaps am secret:

Heaven is high,

High, and remote to see from thence distinct Each thing on Earth; and other care perhaps May have diverted from continual watch Our great Forbidder, safe with all his spies About him.  But to Adam in what sort Shall I appear? shall I to him make known As yet my change, and give him to partake Full happiness with me, or rather not,

But keeps the odds of knowledge in my power Without copartner? so to add what wants In female sex, the more to draw his love,

And render me more equal; and perhaps,

A thing not undesirable, sometime Superiour; for, inferiour, who is free This may be well:  But what if God have seen,

And death ensue? then I shall be no more!

And Adam, wedded to another Eve,

Shall live with her enjoying,

I extinct;

A death to think!  Confirmed then I resolve,

Adam shall share with me in bliss or woe:

So dear I love him, that with him all deaths I could endure, without him live no life.

So saying, from the tree her step she turned;

But first low reverence done, as to the Power That dwelt within, whose presence had infused Into the plant sciential sap, derived From nectar, drink of Gods.  Adam the while,

Waiting desirous her return, had wove Of choicest flowers a garland, to adorn Her tresses, and her rural labours crown;

As reapers oft are wont their harvest-queen.

Great joy he promised to his thoughts, and new Solace in her return, so long delayed:

Yet oft his heart, divine of something ill,

Misgave him; he the faltering measure felt;

And forth to meet her went, the way she took That morn when first they parted: by the tree Of knowledge he must pass; there he her met,

Scarce from the tree returning; in her hand A bough of fairest fruit, that downy smiled,

New gathered, and ambrosial smell diffused.

To him she hasted; in her face excuse Came prologue, and apology too prompt;

Which, with bland words at will, she thus addressed.

Hast thou not wondered,

Adam, at my stay?

Thee I have missed, and thought it long, deprived Thy presence; agony of love till now Not felt, nor shall be twice; for never more Mean I to try, what rash untried I sought,

The pain of absence from thy sight.  But strange Hath been the cause, and wonderful to hear:

This tree is not, as we are told, a tree Of danger tasted, nor to evil unknown Opening the way, but of divine effect To open eyes, and make them Gods who taste;

And hath been tasted such:  The serpent wise,

Or not restrained as we, or not obeying,

Hath eaten of the fruit; and is become,

Not dead, as we are threatened, but thenceforth Endued with human voice and human sense,

Reasoning to admiration; and with me Persuasively hath so prevailed, that I Have also tasted, and have also found The effects to correspond; opener mine eyes,

Dim erst, dilated spirits, ampler heart,

And growing up to Godhead; which for thee Chiefly I sought, without thee can despise.

For bliss, as thou hast part, to me is bliss;

Tedious, unshared with thee, and odious soon.

Thou therefore also taste, that equal lot May join us, equal joy, as equal love;

Lest, thou not tasting, different degree Disjoin us, and I then too late renounce Deity for thee, when Fate will not permit.

Thus Eve with countenance blithe her story told;

But in her cheek distemper flushing glowed.

On the other side Adam, soon as he heard The fatal trespass done by Eve, amazed,

Astonied stood and blank, while horrour chill Ran through his veins, and all his joints relaxed;

From his slack hand the garland wreathed for Eve Down dropt, and all the faded roses shed:

Speechless he stood and pale, till thus at length First to himself he inward silence broke.

O fairest of Creation, last and best Of all God's works,

Creature in whom excelled Whatever can to sight or thought be formed,

Holy, divine, good, amiable, or sweet!

How art thou lost! how on a sudden lost,

Defaced, deflowered, and now to death devote!

Rather, how hast thou yielded to transgress The strict forbiddance, how to violate The sacred fruit forbidden!  Some cursed fraud Of enemy hath beguiled thee, yet unknown,

And me with thee hath ruined; for with thee Certain my resolution is to die:

How can I live without thee! how forego Thy sweet converse, and love so dearly joined,

To live again in these wild woods forlorn!

Should God create another Eve, and I Another rib afford, yet loss of thee Would never from my heart: no, no!

I feel The link of Nature draw me: flesh of flesh,

Bone of my bone thou art, and from thy state Mine never shall be parted, bliss or woe.

So having said, as one from sad dismay Recomforted, and after thoughts disturbed Submitting to what seemed remediless,

Thus in calm mood his words to Eve he turned.

Bold deed thou hast presumed, adventurous Eve,

And peril great provoked, who thus hast dared,

Had it been only coveting to eye That sacred fruit, sacred to abstinence,

Much more to taste it under ban to touch.

But past who can recall, or done undo?

Not God Omnipotent, nor Fate; yet so Perhaps thou shalt not die, perhaps the fact Is not so heinous now, foretasted fruit,

Profaned first by the serpent, by him first Made common, and unhallowed, ere our taste;

Nor yet on him found deadly; yet he lives;

Lives, as thou saidst, and gains to live, as Man,

Higher degree of life; inducement strong To us, as likely tasting to attain Proportional ascent; which cannot be But to be Gods, or Angels, demi-Gods.

Nor can I think that God,

Creator wise,

Though threatening, will in earnest so destroy Us his prime creatures, dignified so high,

Set over all his works; which in our fall,

For us created, needs with us must fail,

Dependant made; so God shall uncreate,

Be frustrate, do, undo, and labour lose;

Not well conceived of God, who, though his power Creation could repeat, yet would be loth Us to abolish, lest the Adversary Triumph, and say; "Fickle their state whom God "Most favours; who can please him long?

Me first "He ruined, now Mankind; whom will he next?" Matter of scorn, not to be given the Foe.

However I with thee have fixed my lot,

Certain to undergo like doom:  If death Consort with thee, death is to me as life;

So forcible within my heart I feel The bond of Nature draw me to my own;

My own in thee, for what thou art is mine;

Our state cannot be severed; we are one,

One flesh; to lose thee were to lose myself.

So Adam; and thus Eve to him replied.

O glorious trial of exceeding love,

Illustrious evidence, example high!

Engaging me to emulate; but, short Of thy perfection, how shall I attain,

Adam, from whose dear side I boast me sprung,

And gladly of our union hear thee speak,

One heart, one soul in both; whereof good proof This day affords, declaring thee resolved,

Rather than death, or aught than death more dread,

Shall separate us, linked in love so dear,

To undergo with me one guilt, one crime,

If any be, of tasting this fair fruit;

Whose virtue for of good still good proceeds,

Direct, or by occasion, hath presented This happy trial of thy love, which else So eminently never had been known?

Were it I thought death menaced would ensue This my attempt,

I would sustain alone The worst, and not persuade thee, rather die Deserted, than oblige thee with a fact Pernicious to thy peace; chiefly assured Remarkably so late of thy so true,

So faithful, love unequalled: but I feel Far otherwise the event; not death, but life Augmented, opened eyes, new hopes, new joys,

Taste so divine, that what of sweet before Hath touched my sense, flat seems to this, and harsh.

On my experience,

Adam, freely taste,

And fear of death deliver to the winds.

So saying, she embraced him, and for joy Tenderly wept; much won, that he his love Had so ennobled, as of choice to incur Divine displeasure for her sake, or death.

In recompence for such compliance bad Such recompence best merits from the bough She gave him of that fair enticing fruit With liberal hand: he scrupled not to eat,

Against his better knowledge; not deceived,

But fondly overcome with female charm.

Earth trembled from her entrails, as again In pangs; and Nature gave a second groan;

Sky loured; and, muttering thunder, some sad drops Wept at completing of the mortal sin Original: while Adam took no thought,

Eating his fill; nor Eve to iterate Her former trespass feared, the more to sooth Him with her loved society; that now,

As with new wine intoxicated both,

They swim in mirth, and fancy that they feel Divinity within them breeding wings,

Wherewith to scorn the earth:  But that false fruit Far other operation first displayed,

Carnal desire inflaming; he on Eve Began to cast lascivious eyes; she him As wantonly repaid; in lust they burn:

Till Adam thus 'gan Eve to dalliance move.

Eve, now I see thou art exact of taste,

And elegant, of sapience no small part;

Since to each meaning savour we apply,

And palate call judicious;

I the praise Yield thee, so well this day thou hast purveyed.

Much pleasure we have lost, while we abstained From this delightful fruit, nor known till now True relish, tasting; if such pleasure be In things to us forbidden, it might be wished,

For this one tree had been forbidden ten.

But come, so well refreshed, now let us play,

As meet is, after such delicious fare;

For never did thy beauty, since the day I saw thee first and wedded thee, adorned With all perfections, so inflame my sense With ardour to enjoy thee, fairer now Than ever; bounty of this virtuous tree!

So said he, and forbore not glance or toy Of amorous intent; well understood Of Eve, whose eye darted contagious fire.

Her hand he seised; and to a shady bank,

Thick over-head with verdant roof imbowered,

He led her nothing loth; flowers were the couch,

Pansies, and violets, and asphodel,

And hyacinth;  Earth's freshest softest lap.

There they their fill of love and love's disport Took largely, of their mutual guilt the seal,

The solace of their sin; till dewy sleep Oppressed them, wearied with their amorous play,

Soon as the force of that fallacious fruit,

That with exhilarating vapour bland About their spirits had played, and inmost powers Made err, was now exhaled; and grosser sleep,

Bred of unkindly fumes, with conscious dreams Incumbered, now had left them; up they rose As from unrest; and, each the other viewing,

Soon found their eyes how opened, and their minds How darkened; innocence, that as a veil Had shadowed them from knowing ill, was gone;

Just confidence, and native righteousness,

And honour, from about them, naked left To guilty Shame; he covered, but his robe Uncovered more.  So rose the Danite strong,

Herculean Samson, from the harlot-lap Of Philistean Dalilah, and waked Shorn of his strength.  They destitute and bare Of all their virtue:  Silent, and in face Confounded, long they sat, as strucken mute:

Till Adam, though not less than Eve abashed,

At length gave utterance to these words constrained.

O Eve, in evil hour thou didst give ear To that false worm, of whomsoever taught To counterfeit Man's voice; true in our fall,

False in our promised rising; since our eyes Opened we find indeed, and find we know Both good and evil; good lost, and evil got;

Bad fruit of knowledge, if this be to know;

Which leaves us naked thus, of honour void,

Of innocence, of faith, of purity,

Our wonted ornaments now soiled and stained,

And in our faces evident the signs Of foul concupiscence; whence evil store;

Even shame, the last of evils; of the first Be sure then.—How shall I behold the face Henceforth of God or Angel, erst with joy And rapture so oft beheld?  Those heavenly shapes Will dazzle now this earthly with their blaze Insufferably bright.  O! might I here In solitude live savage; in some glade Obscured, where highest woods, impenetrable To star or sun-light, spread their umbrage broad And brown as evening:  Cover me, ye Pines!

Ye Cedars, with innumerable boughs Hide me, where I may never see them more!— But let us now, as in bad plight, devise What best may for the present serve to hide The parts of each from other, that seem most To shame obnoxious, and unseemliest seen;

Some tree, whose broad smooth leaves together sewed,

And girded on our loins, may cover round Those middle parts; that this new comer,


There sit not, and reproach us as unclean.

So counselled he, and both together went Into the thickest wood; there soon they chose The fig-tree; not that kind for fruit renowned,

But such as at this day, to Indians known,

In Malabar or Decan spreads her arms Branching so broad and long, that in the ground The bended twigs take root, and daughters grow About the mother tree, a pillared shade High over-arched, and echoing walks between:

There oft the Indian herdsman, shunning heat,

Shelters in cool, and tends his pasturing herds At loop-holes cut through thickest shade:  Those leaves They gathered, broad as Amazonian targe;

And, with what skill they had, together sewed,

To gird their waist; vain covering, if to hide Their guilt and dreaded shame!  O, how unlike To that first naked glory!  Such of late Columbus found the American, so girt With feathered cincture; naked else, and wild Among the trees on isles and woody shores.

Thus fenced, and, as they thought, their shame in part Covered, but not at rest or ease of mind,

They sat them down to weep; nor only tears Rained at their eyes, but high winds worse within Began to rise, high passions, anger, hate,

Mistrust, suspicion, discord; and shook sore Their inward state of mind, calm region once And full of peace, now tost and turbulent:

For Understanding ruled not, and the Will Heard not her lore; both in subjection now To sensual Appetite, who from beneath Usurping over sovran Reason claimed Superiour sway:

From thus distempered breast,

Adam, estranged in look and altered style,

Speech intermitted thus to Eve renewed.

Would thou hadst hearkened to my words, and staid With me, as I besought thee, when that strange Desire of wandering, this unhappy morn,

I know not whence possessed thee; we had then Remained still happy; not, as now, despoiled Of all our good; shamed, naked, miserable!

Let none henceforth seek needless cause to approve The faith they owe; when earnestly they seek Such proof, conclude, they then begin to fail.

To whom, soon moved with touch of blame, thus Eve.

What words have passed thy lips,

Adam severe!

Imputest thou that to my default, or will Of wandering, as thou callest it, which who knows But might as ill have happened thou being by,

Or to thyself perhaps?  Hadst thou been there,

Or here the attempt, thou couldst not have discerned Fraud in the Serpent, speaking as he spake;

No ground of enmity between us known,

Why he should mean me ill, or seek to harm.

Was I to have never parted from thy side?

As good have grown there still a lifeless rib.

Being as I am, why didst not thou, the head,

Command me absolutely not to go,

Going into such danger, as thou saidst?

Too facile then, thou didst not much gainsay;

Nay, didst permit, approve, and fair dismiss.

Hadst thou been firm and fixed in thy dissent,

Neither had I transgressed, nor thou with me.

To whom, then first incensed,

Adam replied.

Is this the love, is this the recompence Of mine to thee, ingrateful Eve! expressed Immutable, when thou wert lost, not I;

Who might have lived, and joyed immortal bliss,

Yet willingly chose rather death with thee?

And am I now upbraided as the cause Of thy transgressing?  Not enough severe,

It seems, in thy restraint:  What could I more I warned thee,

I admonished thee, foretold The danger, and the lurking enemy That lay in wait; beyond this, had been force;

And force upon free will hath here no place.

But confidence then bore thee on; secure Either to meet no danger, or to find Matter of glorious trial; and perhaps I also erred, in overmuch admiring What seemed in thee so perfect, that I thought No evil durst attempt thee; but I rue The errour now, which is become my crime,

And thou the accuser.  Thus it shall befall Him, who, to worth in women overtrusting,

Lets her will rule: restraint she will not brook;

And, left to herself, if evil thence ensue,

She first his weak indulgence will accuse.

Thus they in mutual accusation spent The fruitless hours, but neither self-condemning;

And of their vain contest appeared no end.'(line 21: -- my celestial patroness,...):

His heavenly Muse, his Urania, whom he had invoked I. 6.,

II. 1, 31.

And he boasts of "her nightly visitation," as he was not unaccustomed to study and compose his verses by night; as he intimates himself at the beginning of book the third. ...

And it is probable that in both these passages he alludes to the beginning of Hesiod's Theogony, where he mentions likewise the Muses "walking by night," ver. 10. (line 26: --- long choosing, and beginning late;...):

Our author intended pretty early to write an epic poem, and proposed the story of king Arthur for the subject of it: but that was laid aside probably for the reasons here intimated.

The Paradise Lost he designed at first as a tragedy; it was not till long after that he began to form it into an epic poem: and indeed for several years he was so hotly engaged in the controversies of the times, that he was not at leisure to think of a work of this nature, and did not begin to fashion it in its present form till after the Salmasian controversy which ended in 1655, and probably did not set about the work in earnest till after the Restoration, so that he was "long choosing and beginning late."(line 77:

From Eden over Pontus,...&c.):

As we had before an astronomical, so her we have a geographical, account of Satan's peregrinations. "He search'd" both "sea and land," northward "from Eden over Pontus," Pontus Euxinus, the Euxine Sea, now the Black Sea, above Constantinople, "and the pool Maeotis," Palus Maeotis above the Black Sea, "up beyond the river Ob",

Ob or Oby a great river of Muscovy near the northern pole. "Downward as far antarctic," as far southward; the northern hemisphere being elevated on our globes, the north is called "up" and the south 'downward'; "antarctic" south the contrary to "arctic" north from the Bear, the most conspicuous constellation near the north pole; but no particular place is mention'd near the south pole, there being all sea or land unknown. "And in length," as north is up and south is down, so in length is east or west; "west from Orontes," a river of Syria, westward of Eden, running into the Mediterranean, "to the ocean barr'd at Darien," the isthmus of Darien in the West Indies, a neck of land that joins North and South America together, and hinders the ocean as it were with a bar from flowing between them; and the metaphor of "the ocean barr'd" is in allusion to Job

II. 10. "and set bars to the sea.

Thence to the land where flows Ganges and Indus, thence to the East Indies: thus the orb he roam'd."(line 89: --- fittest imp of fraud,...):

Fittest stock to graft his devilish fraud upon. "Imp" of the Saxon 'impan', to put into, to graft upon.

Thus children are called "little imps," from their imitating all they see and hear. --Hume. (line 270: --- the virgin majesty of Eve,...):

The Ancients us'd the word "virgin" with more latitude than we, as Virgil Eclog.

VI. 47 calls Pasiphae virgin after she had three children, and Ovid calls Medea Adultera virgo.





It is put here to denote beauty, bloom, sweetness, modesty, and all the amiable characters which are usually found in a virgin, and these with matron majesty. --Richardson.(line 291:

Daughter of God and Man, immortal Eve,...):

As Eve had called Adam "Offspring of Heav'n and Earth," as made by god out of the dust of the Earth; so Adam calls Eve "Daughter of God and Man," as made by God out of Man; and acknowledges her to be 'immortal', as she had said of herself, ver. 283. that they were not "capable of death or pain;" but only so long as she was "entire from sin and blame": integer vitae, scelerisque purus.




II.1.(line 372:

Go; for thy stay, not free, absents the more;...):

It is related in the Life of Milton, that he went into the country in the Whitsuntide vacation, and married his first wife Mary the daughter of Justice Powell of Oxfordshire.

She had not cohabited with him above a month, before she was very desirous of returning to her friends in the country, there to spend the remainder of the summer.

We may suppose, that upon this occasion their conversation was somewhat of the same nature as Adam and Eve's; and it was upon some such considerations as this, that after much solicitation he permitted her to go. ...

It is the more probable, that he alluded to his own case in this account of Adam and Eve's parting, as in the account of their reconciliation it will appear that he copied exactly what happen'd to himself. (line 450: ---- tedded grass,....):

Grass just mowed and spread for drying. --Richardson.(line 496: --- not with indented wave,....):

Indented is of the same derivation as 'indenture', notched and going in and out like the teeth of a saw: and Shakespear applies it likewise to the motions of a snake in As You Like It,

Act IV. "And with indented glides did slip away." (line 522:

Than at Circean call the herd disguised...):

All beasts of the field used to play and sport before her, more obedient to her voice, than men turn'd into beasts by the famous inchantress Circe were at her beck.



IV. 45.(line 530:

Organic, or impulse of vocal air,...):

That the Devil moved the serpent's tongue, and used it as an instrument to form that tempting speech he made to Eve, is the opinion of some; that he form'd a voice by impression of the sounding air, distant from the serpent, is that of others: of which our author has left the curious to their choice.

In considering this note on 530, one should remember the story related in the book of Numbers xxii. 2. &c., "Then the Lord allowed the ass to speak; and the ass said to Balaam, 'What have I done that you have struck me these three times?' And Balaam was so angry that he never thought how strange it was for an animal to talk; and he said: 'I struck you because you will not walk as you should.

I wish that I had a sword in my hand; then I would kill you.' And the ass spoke again to Balaam, 'Am I not your ass, the one that has always carried you?

Did I ever disobey you before?

Why do you treat me so cruelly?'"&c.(line 605:

Or Earth, or Middle,.....):

Middle - In the air, the element placed between, and as our author says "spun out between Heaven and Earth"

II. 241. --Hume.(line 612: ---- universal Dame...):

The word "dame" conveys a low idea at present: but formerly it was an appellation of respect and honor, and signified mistress or lady, and was probably derived from the French 'dame' and the Latin 'domina', "Universal Dame," Domina universi.(line 643: --- and into fraud...):

Fraud signifies hurt and damage, as well as deceit and delusion.(line 644: --------- the tree / Of prohibition...):

An Hebraism for the prohibited or forbidden tree.(653:

Sole daughter of his voice;...):

Another Hebraism. "Bath Kol,

The daughter of a voice" is a noted phrase among the Jews, and they understand by it a voice from Heaven; and this command is call'd the "sole daughter", as it is the only command that we read of, that was given to our first parents in Paradise.(line 653: ---- the rest, we live / Law to ourselves,...):

The rest, as for what remains, in all things else.

A Grecism, and common in Latin.

Romans II.14. "These having not the law, are a law unto themselves." --Richardson.(line 823: ------ and perhaps / A thing not undesirable, sometime / Superior; for inferior who is free?):

There is a very humorous tale in Chaucer, which is also verify'd by Dryden, wherein the question is propos'd, what it is that women most affect and desire?

Some say wealth, some beauty, some flattery, some in short one thing, and some another; but the true answer is sovranty.

And the thought of attaining the superiority over her husband is very artfully made one of the first, that Eve entertains after her eating of the forbidden fruit: but still her love of Adam and jealousy of another Eve prevail even over that; so just is the observation of Solomon,


II. 6. "Love is strong as death, jealousy is cruel as the grave."(line 838: ---- Adam the while / Waiting,...&c):

Andromache is thus described as amusing herself, and preparing for the return of Hector, not knowing that he was already slain by Achilles.

Homer Iliad.

II. 440.(line 845: ---- divine of something ill,...):

Foreboding something ill; a Latin phrase, as in Horace Od.


II. 10.(line 846: --- he the faltring measure felt);

He found his heart kept not true time, he felt the false and intermitting measure; the natural description of our minds foreboding ill, by the unequal beatings of the heart and pulse. --Hume.(line 1000:

Earth trembled from her entrails,...):

When Dido in the fourth

Eneid yielded to that fatal temptation which ruin'd her,

Virgil tells us that the Earth trembled, the Heavens were filled with flashes of lightning, and the Nymphs howled upon the mountain tops.

Milton, in the same poetical spirit, has described all Nature as disturb'd upon Eve's eating the forbidden fruit, ...

Upon Adam's falling into the same guilt, the whole creation appears a second time in convulsions.

As all Nature suffer'd by the guilt of our first parents, these symptoms of trouble and consternation are wonderfully imagin'd, not only as prodigies, but as marks of her sympathizing in the fall of Man. --Addison.(line 1029:

For never did thy beauty....&c.):

Adam's converse with Eve, after having eaten the forbidden fruit, is an exact copy of that between Jupiter and Juno in the fourteenth Iliad.

Juno there approaches Jupiter with the girdle which she had received from Venus; upon which he tells her, that she appear'd more charming and desirable than she had ever done before, even when their loves were at the highest. The poet afterwards describes them as reposing on a summet of mount Ida, which produced under them a bed of flowers, the lotos, the crocus and the hyacinth; and concludes his description with their falling asleep.

Let the reader compare this with the following passage in Milton, which begins with Adam's speech to Eve. --Addison.

Our author had in mind the conversation between Paris and Helen in the third Iliad, as well as that between Jupiter and Juno on the mount Ida.

And as Mr.

Pope observes, it is with wonderful judgement and decency that Milton has used that exceptionable passage of the dalliance, ardor, and enjoyment of Jupiter and Juno.

That which seems in Homer an impious fiction, becomes a moral lesson in Milton; since he makes that lascivious rage of the passion the immediate effect of the sin of our first parents after the fall.(line 1067:

O Eve, in evil hour....&c.):

As this whole transaction between Adam and Even is manifestly copied from the episode of Jupiter and Juno on mount Ida, has many of the same circumstances, and often the very words translated, so it concludes exactly after the same manner in a quarrel.

Adam awakes much in the same humor as Jupiter, and their cases are somewhat parallel; they are both overcome by their fondness to their wives, and are sensible of their error too late, and then their love turns to resentment, and they grow angry with their wives, when they should rather have been angry with themselves for their weakness in hearkening to them. (line 1068:

To that false worm.....):

That is serpent.

This is a general name for the reptile kind; as in

II. 476.

And thus a serpent is call'd in Shakespear, "the mortal worm," 2 Henry VI.


II.(line 1103:

In Malabar or Decan....):

Malabar is a vast peninsula or promontary of the East Indies, of which Decan is a considerable kingdom. --Hume.(line 1115: ---- Such of late / Columbus found the American, &c...):

Columbus, who discovered America in 1492, found the Americans so girt about the waste with feathers, as Adam and Eve were with fig-leaves.(line 1162:

To whom then first incens'd Adam reply'd...):

As Adam is now first angry, his speech is abrupt and his sentences broken.'~ Th.


Paradise Lost, 2nd edition, 1750.


John Milton

John Milton (9 December 1608 – 8 November 1674) was an English poet and intellectual who served as a civil servant for the Commonwealth of Engla…

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