Paradise Regained, by John Milton

The Fourth Book.

PERPLEX’D and troubl’d at his bad success

The Tempter stood, nor had what to reply,

Discover’d in his fraud, thrown from his hope,

So oft, and the perswasive Rhetoric

That sleek’t his tongue, and won so much on Eve,

So little here, nay lost; but Eve was Eve,

This far his over-match, who self deceiv’d

And rash, before-hand had no better weigh’d

The strength he was to cope with, or his own:

But as a man who had been matchless held 10

In cunning, over-reach’t where least he thought,

To salve his credit, and for very spight

Still will be tempting him who foyls him still,

And never cease, though to his shame the more;

Or as a swarm of flies in vintage time,

About the wine-press where sweet moust is powr’d,

Beat off; returns as oft with humming sound;

Or surging waves against a solid rock,

Though all to shivers dash’t, the assault renew,

Vain battry, and in froth or bubbles end: 20

So Satan, whom repulse upon repulse

Met ever; and to shameful silence brought,

Yet gives not o’re though desperate of success,

And his vain importunity pursues.

He brought our Saviour to the western side

Of that high mountain, whence he might behold

Another plain, long but in bredth not wide;

Wash’d by the Southern Sea, and on the North

To equal length back’d with a ridge of hills

That screen’d the fruits of the earth and seats of men 30

From cold Septentrion blasts, thence in the midst

Divided by a river, of whose banks

On each side an Imperial City stood,

With Towers and Temples proudly elevate

On seven small Hills, with Palaces adorn’d,

Porches and Theatres, Baths, Aqueducts,

Statues and Trophees, and Triumphal Arcs,

Gardens and Groves presented to his eyes,

Above the highth of Mountains interpos’d.

By what strange Parallax or Optic skill 40

Of vision multiplyed through air or glass

Of Telescope, were curious to enquire:

And now the Tempter thus his silence broke.

The City which thou seest no other deem

Then great and glorious Rome, Queen of the Earth

So far renown’d, and with the spoils enricht

Of Nations; there the Capitol thou seest

Above the rest lifting his stately head

On the Tarpeian rock, her Cittadel

Impregnable, and there Mount Palatine 50

The Imperial Palace, compass huge, and high

The Structure, skill of noblest Architects,

With gilded battlements, conspicuous far,

Turrets and Terrases, and glittering Spires.

Many a fair Edifice besides, more like

Houses of Gods (so well I have dispos’d

My Aerie Microscope) thou may’st behold

Outside and inside both, pillars and roofs

Carv’d work, the hand of fam’d Artificers

In Cedar, Marble, Ivory or Gold. 60

Thence to the gates cast round thine eye, and see

What conflux issuing forth, or entring in,

Pretors, Proconsuls to thir Provinces

Hasting or on return, in robes of State;

Lictors and rods the ensigns of thir power,

Legions and Cohorts, turmes of horse and wings:

Or Embassies from Regions far remote

In various habits on the Appian road,

Or on the Aemilian, some from farthest South,

Syene, and where the shadow both way falls, 70

Meroe, Nilotic Isle, and more to West,

The Realm of Bocchus to the Black-moor Sea;

From the Asian Kings and Parthian among these,

From India ‘and the golden Chersoness,

And utmost Indian Isle Taprobane,

Dusk faces with white silken Turbants wreath’d:

From Gallia, Gades, and the Brittish West,

Germans and Scythians, and Sarmatians North

Beyond Danubius to the Tauric Pool.

All Nations now to Rome obedience pay, 80

To Rome’s great Emperour, whose wide domain

In ample Territory, wealth and power,

Civility of Manners, Arts, and Arms,

And long Renown thou justly may’st prefer

Before the Parthian; these two Thrones except,

The rest are barbarous, and scarce worth the sight,

Shar’d among petty Kings too far remov’d;

These having shewn thee, I have shewn thee all

The Kingdoms of the world, and all thir glory.

This Emperour hath no Son, and now is old, 90

Old, and lascivious, and from Rome retir’d

To Capreae an Island small but strong

On the Campanian shore, with purpose there

His horrid lusts in private to enjoy,

Committing to a wicked Favourite

All publick cares, and yet of him suspicious,

Hated of all, and hating; with what ease

Indu’d with Regal Vertues as thou art,

Appearing, and beginning noble deeds,

Might’st thou expel this monster from his Throne 100

Now made a stye, and in his place ascending

A victor people free from servile yoke?

And with my help thou may’st; to me the power

Is given, and by that right I give it thee.

Aim therefore at no less then all the world,

Aim at the highest, without the highest attain’d

Will be for thee no sitting, or not long

On Davids Throne, be propheci’d what will,

To whom the Son of God unmov’d reply’d.

Nor doth this grandeur and majestic show 110

Of luxury, though call’d magnificence,

More then of alms before, allure mine eye,

Much less my mind; though thou should’st add to tell

Thir sumptuous gluttonies, and gorgeous feasts

On Cittron tables or Atlantic stone;

(For I have also heard, perhaps have read)

Their wines of Setia, Cales, and Falerne,

Chios and Creet, and how they quaff in Gold,

Crystal and Myrrhine cups imboss’d with Gems

And studs of Pearl, to me should’st tell who thirst 120

And hunger still: then Embassies thou shew’st

From Nations far and nigh; what honour that,

But tedious wast of time to sit and hear

So many hollow complements and lies,

Outlandish flatteries? then proceed’st to talk

Of the Emperour, how easily subdu’d,

How gloriously; I shall, thou say’st, expel

A brutish monster: what if I withal

Expel a Devil who first made him such?

Let his tormenter Conscience find him out, 130

For him I was not sent, nor yet to free

That people victor once, now vile and base,

Deservedly made vassal, who once just,

Frugal, and mild, and temperate, conquer’d well,

But govern ill the Nations under yoke,

Peeling thir Provinces, exhausted all

By lust and rapine; first ambitious grown

Of triumph that insulting vanity;

Then cruel, by thir sports to blood enur’d

Of fighting beasts, and men to beasts expos’d, 140

Luxurious by thir wealth, and greedier still,

And from the daily Scene effeminate.

What wise and valiant man would seek to free

These thus degenerate, by themselves enslav’d,

Or could of inward slaves make outward free?

Know therefore when my season comes to sit

On David’s Throne, it shall be like a tree

Spreading and over-shadowing all the Earth,

Or as a stone that shall to pieces dash

All Monarchies besides throughout the world, 150

And of my Kingdom there shall be no end:

Means there shall be to this, but what the means,

Is not for thee to know, nor me to tell.

To whom the Tempter impudent repli’d.

I see all offers made by me how slight

Thou valu’st, because offer’d, and reject’st:

Nothing will please the difficult and nice,

Or nothing more then still to contradict:

On the other side know also thou, that I

On what I offer set as high esteem, 160

Nor what I part with mean to give for naught;

All these which in a moment thou behold’st,

The Kingdoms of the world to thee I give;

For giv’n to me, I give to whom I please,

No trifle; yet with this reserve, not else,

On this condition, if thou wilt fall down,

And worship me as thy superior Lord,

Easily done, and hold them all of me;

For what can less so great a gift deserve?

Whom thus our Saviour answer’d with disdain. 170

I never lik’d thy talk, thy offers less,

Now both abhor, since thou hast dar’d to utter

The abominable terms, impious condition;

But I endure the time, till which expir’d,

Thou hast permission on me. It is written

The first of all Commandments, Thou shalt worship

The Lord thy God, and only him shalt serve;

And dar’st thou to the Son of God propound

To worship thee accurst, now more accurst

For this attempt bolder then that on Eve, 180

And more blasphemous? which expect to rue.

The Kingdoms of the world to thee were giv’n,

Permitted rather, and by thee usurp’t,

Other donation none thou canst produce:

If given, by whom but by the King of Kings,

God over all supreme? if giv’n to thee,

By thee how fairly is the Giver now

Repaid? But gratitude in thee is lost

Long since. Wert thou so void of fear or shame,

As offer them to me the Son of God, 190

To me my own, on such abhorred pact,

That I fall down and worship thee as God?

Get thee behind me; plain thou now appear’st

That Evil one, Satan for ever damn’d.

To whom the Fiend with fear abasht reply’d.

Be not so sore offended, Son of God;

Though Sons of God both Angels are and Men,

If I to try whether in higher sort

Then these thou bear’st that title, have propos’d

What both from Men and Angels I receive, 200

Tetrarchs of fire, air, flood, and on the earth

Nations besides from all the quarter’d winds,

God of this world invok’t and world beneath;

Who then thou art, whose coming is foretold

To me so fatal, me it most concerns.

The tryal hath indamag’d thee no way,

Rather more honour left and more esteem;

Me naught advantag’d, missing what I aim’d.

Therefore let pass, as they are transitory,

The Kingdoms of this world; I shall no more 210

Advise thee, gain them as thou canst, or not.

And thou thy self seem’st otherwise inclin’d

Then to a worldly Crown, addicted more

To contemplation and profound dispute,

As by that early action may be judg’d,

When slipping from thy Mothers eye thou went’st

Alone into the Temple; there was found

Among the gravest Rabbies disputant

On points and questions fitting Moses Chair,

Teaching not taught; the childhood shews the man, 220

As morning shews the day. Be famous then

By wisdom; as thy Empire must extend,

So let extend thy mind o’re all the world,

In knowledge, all things in it comprehend,

All knowledge is not couch’t in Moses Law,

The Pentateuch or what the Prophets wrote,

The Gentiles also know, and write, and teach

To admiration, led by Natures light;

And with the Gentiles much thou must converse,

Ruling them by perswasion as thou mean’st, 230

Without thir learning how wilt thou with them,

Or they with thee hold conversation meet?

How wilt thou reason with them, how refute

Thir Idolisms, Traditions, Paradoxes?

Error by his own arms is best evinc’t.

Look once more e’re we leave this specular Mount

Westward, much nearer by Southwest, behold

Where on the Aegean shore a City stands

Built nobly, pure the air, and light the soil,

Athens the eye of Greece, Mother of Arts 240

And Eloquence, native to famous wits

Or hospitable, in her sweet recess,

City or Suburban, studious walks and shades;

See there the Olive Grove of Academe,

Plato’s retirement, where the Attic Bird

Trills her thick-warbl’d notes the summer long,

There flowrie hill Hymettus with the sound

Of Bees industrious murmur oft invites

To studious musing; there Ilissus rouls

His whispering stream; within the walls then view 250

The schools of antient Sages; his who bred

Great Alexander to subdue the world,

Lyceum there, and painted Stoa next:

There thou shalt hear and learn the secret power

Of harmony in tones and numbers hit

By voice or hand, and various-measur’d verse,

Aeolian charms and Dorian Lyric Odes,

And his who gave them breath, but higher sung,

Blind Melesigenes thence Homer call’d,

Whose Poem Phoebus challeng’d for his own. 260

Thence what the lofty grave Tragoedians taught

In Chorus or Iambic, teachers best

Of moral prudence, with delight receiv’d

In brief sententious precepts, while they treat

Of fate, and chance, and change in human life;

High actions, and high passions best describing;

Thence to the famous Orators repair,

Those antient, whose resistless eloquence

Wielded at will that fierce Democratie,

Shook the Arsenal and fulmin’d over Greece, 270

To Macedon, and Artaxerxes Throne;

To sage Philosophy next lend thine ear,

From Heaven descended to the low-rooft house

Of Socrates, see there his Tenement,

Whom well inspir’d the Oracle pronounc’d

Wisest of men; from whose mouth issu’d forth

Mellifluous streams that water’d all the schools

Of Academics old and new, with those

Sirnam’d Peripatetics, and the Sect

Epicurean, and the Stoic severe; 280

These here revolve, or, as thou lik’st, at home,

Till time mature thee to a Kingdom’s waight;

These rules will render thee a King compleat

Within thy self, much more with Empire joyn’d.

To whom our Saviour sagely thus repli’d.

Think not but that I know these things, or think

I know them not; not therefore am I short

Of knowing what I aught: he who receives

Light from above, from the fountain of light,

No other doctrine needs, though granted true; 290

But these are false, or little else but dreams,

Conjectures, fancies, built on nothing firm.

The first and wisest of them all profess’d

To know this only, that he nothing knew;

The next to fabling fell and smooth conceits,

A third sort doubted all things, though plain sence;

Others in vertue plac’d felicity,

But vertue joyn’d with riches and long life,

In corporal pleasure he, and careless ease,

The Stoic last in Philosophic pride, 300

By him call’d vertue; and his vertuous man,

Wise, perfect in himself, and all possessing

Equal to God, oft shames not to prefer,

As fearing God nor man, contemning all

Wealth, pleasure, pain or torment, death and life,

Which when he lists, he leaves, or boasts he can,

For all his tedious talk is but vain boast,

Or subtle shifts conviction to evade.

Alas what can they teach, and not mislead;

Ignorant of themselves, of God much more, 310

And how the world began, and how man fell

Degraded by himself, on grace depending?

Much of the Soul they talk, but all awrie,

And in themselves seek vertue, and to themselves

All glory arrogate, to God give none,

Rather accuse him under usual names,

Fortune and Fate, as one regardless quite

Of mortal things. Who therefore seeks in these

True wisdom, finds her not, or by delusion

Far worse, her false resemblance only meets, 320

An empty cloud. However many books

Wise men have said are wearisom; who reads

Incessantly, and to his reading brings not

A spirit and judgment equal or superior,

(And what he brings, what needs he elsewhere seek)

Uncertain and unsettl’d still remains

Deep verst in books and shallow in himself;

Crude or intoxicate, collecting toys,

And trifles for choice matters, worth a spunge;

As Children gathering pibles on the shore. 330

Or if I would delight my private hours

With Music or with Poem, where so soon

As in our native Language can I find

That solace? All our Law and Story strew’d

With Hymns, our Psalms with artful terms inscrib’d,

Our Hebrew Songs and Harps in Babylon,

That pleas’d so well our Victors ear, declare

That rather Greece from us these Arts deriv’d;

Ill imitated, while they loudest sing

The vices of thir Deities, and thir own 340

In Fable, Hymn, or Song, so personating

Thir Gods ridiculous, and themselves past shame.

Remove their swelling Epithetes thick laid

As varnish on a Harlots cheek, the rest,

Thin sown with aught of profit or delight,

Will far be found unworthy to compare

With Sion’s songs, to all true tasts excelling,

Where God is prais’d aright, and Godlike men,

The Holiest of Holies, and his Saints;

Such are from God inspir’d, not such from thee; 350

Unless where moral vertue is express’t

By light of Nature not in all quite lost.

Thir Orators thou then extoll’st, as those

The top of Eloquence, Statists indeed,

And lovers of thir Country, as may seem;

But herein to our Prophets far beneath,

As men divinely taught, and better teaching

The solid rules of Civil Government

In thir majestic unaffected stile

Then all the Oratory of Greece and Rome. 360

In them is plainest taught, and easiest learnt,

What makes a Nation happy, and keeps it so,

What ruins Kingdoms, and lays Cities flat;

These only with our Law best form a King.

So spake the Son of God; but Satan now

Quite at a loss, for all his darts were spent,

Thus to our Saviour with stern brow reply’d.

Since neither wealth, nor honour, arms nor arts,

Kingdom nor Empire pleases thee, nor aught

By me propos’d in life contemplative,

Or active, tended on by glory, or fame, 370

What dost thou in this World? the Wilderness

For thee is fittest place, I found thee there,

And thither will return thee, yet remember

What I foretell thee, soon thou shalt have cause

To wish thou never hadst rejected thus

Nicely or cautiously my offer’d aid,

Which would have set thee in short time with ease

On David’s Throne; or Throne of all the world,

Now at full age, fulness of time, thy season, 380

When Prophesies of thee are best fullfill’d.

Now contrary, if I read aught in Heaven,

Or Heav’n write aught of Fate, by what the Stars

Voluminous, or single characters,

In thir conjunction met, give me to spell,

Sorrows, and labours, Opposition, bate,

Attends thee, scorns, reproaches, injuries,

Violence and stripes, and lastly cruel death,

A Kingdom they portend thee, but what Kingdom,

Real or Allegoric I discern not, 390

Nor when, eternal sure, as without end,

Without beginning; for no date prefixt

Directs me in the Starry Rubric set.

So saying he took (for still he knew his power

Not yet expir’d) and to the Wilderness

Brought back the Son of God, and left him there,

Feigning to disappear. Darkness now rose,

As day-light sunk, and brought in lowring night

Her shadowy off-spring unsubstantial both,

Privation meer of light and absent day. 400

Our Saviour meek and with untroubl’d mind

After his aerie jaunt, though hurried sore,

Hungry and cold betook him to his rest,

Wherever, under some concourse of shades

Whose branching arms thick intertwind might shield

From dews and damps of night his shelter’d head,

But shelter’d slept in vain, for at his head

The Tempter watch’d, and soon with ugly dreams

Disturb’d his sleep; and either Tropic now

‘Gan thunder, and both ends of Heav’n, the Clouds 410

From many a horrid rift abortive pour’d

Fierce rain with lightning mixt, water with fire

In ruine reconcil’d: nor slept the winds

Within thir stony caves, but rush’d abroad

From the four hinges of the world, and fell

On the vext Wilderness, whose tallest Pines,

Though rooted deep as high, and sturdiest Oaks

Bow’d thir Stiff necks, loaden with stormy blasts,

Or torn up sheer: ill wast thou shrouded then,

O patient Son of God, yet only stoodst 420

Unshaken; nor yet staid the terror there,

Infernal Ghosts, and Hellish Furies, round

Environ’d thee, some howl’d, some yell’d, some shriek’d,

Some bent at thee thir fiery darts, while thou

Sat’st unappall’d in calm and sinless peace.

Thus pass’d the night so foul till morning fair

Came forth with Pilgrim steps in amice gray;

Who with her radiant finger still’d the roar

Of thunder, chas’d the clouds, and laid the winds,

And grisly Spectres, which the Fiend had rais’d 430

To tempt the Son of God with terrors dire.

And now the Sun with more effectual beams

Had chear’d the face of Earth, and dry’d the wet

From drooping plant, or dropping tree; the birds

Who all things now behold more fresh and green,

After a night of storm so ruinous,

Clear’d up their choicest notes in bush and spray

To gratulate the sweet return of morn;

Nor yet amidst this joy and brightest morn

Was absent, after all his mischief done, 440

The Prince of darkness, glad would also seem

Of this fair change, and to our Saviour came,

Yet with no new device, they all were spent,

Rather by this his last affront resolv’d,

Desperate of better course, to vent his rage,

And mad despight to be so oft repell’d.

Him walking on a Sunny hill he found,

Back’d on the North and West by a thick wood,

Out of the wood he starts in wonted shape;

And in a careless mood thus to him said. 450

Fair morning yet betides thee Son of God,

After a dismal night; I heard the rack

As Earth and Skie would mingle; but my self

Was distant; and these flaws, though mortals fear them

As dangerous to the pillard frame of Heaven,

Or to the Earths dark basis underneath,

Are to the main as inconsiderable,

And harmless, if not wholsom, as a sneeze

To mans less universe, and soon are gone;

Yet as being oft times noxious where they light 460

On man, beast, plant, wastful and turbulent,

Like turbulencies in the affairs of men,

Over whose heads they rore, and seem to point,

They oft fore-signifie and threaten ill:

This Tempest at this Desert most was bent;

Of men at thee, for only thou here dwell’st.

Did I not tell thee, if thou didst reject

The perfet season offer’d with my aid

To win thy destin’d seat, but wilt prolong

All to the push of Fate, persue thy way 470

Of gaining David’s Throne no man knows when,

For both the when and how is no where told,

Thou shalt be what thou art ordain’d, no doubt;

For Angels have proclaim’d it, but concealing

The time and means: each act is rightliest done,

Not when it must, but when it may be best.

If thou observe not this, be sure to find,

What I foretold thee, many a hard assay

Of dangers, and adversities and pains,

E’re thou of Israel’s Scepter get fast hold; 480

Whereof this ominous night that clos’d thee round,

So many terrors, voices, prodigies

May warn thee, as a sure fore-going sign.

So talk’d he, while the Son of God went on

And staid not, but in brief him answer’d thus.

Mee worse then wet thou find’st not; other harm

Those terrors which thou speak’st of did me none;

I never fear’d they could, though noising loud

And threatning nigh; what they can do as signs

Betok’ning, or ill boding, I contemn 490

As false portents, not sent from God, but thee;

Who knowing I shall raign past thy preventing.

Obtrud’st thy offer’d aid, that I accepting

At least might seem to hold all power of thee,

Ambitious spirit, and wouldst be thought my God,

And storm’st refus’d, thinking to terrifie

Mee to thy will; desist, thou art discern’d

And toil’st in vain, nor me in vain molest.

To whom the Fiend now swoln with rage reply’d:

Then hear, O Son of David, Virgin-born; 500

For Son of God to me is yet in doubt,

Of the Messiah I have heard foretold

By all the Prophets; of thy birth at length

Announc’t by Gabriel with the first I knew,

And of the Angelic Song in Bethlehem field,

On thy birth-night, that sung thee Saviour born.

From that time seldom have I ceas’d to eye

Thy infancy, thy childhood, and thy youth,

Thy manhood last, though yet in private bred;

Till at the Ford of Jordan whither all 510

Flock’d to the Baptist, I among the rest,

Though not to be Baptiz’d, by voice from Heav’n

Heard thee pronounc’d the Son of God belov’d.

Thenceforth I thought thee worth my nearer view

And narrower Scrutiny, that I might learn

In what degree or meaning thou art call’d

The Son of God, which bears no single sence;

The Son of God I also am, or was,

And if I was, I am; relation stands;

All men are Sons of God; yet thee I thought 520

In some respect far higher so declar’d.

Therefore I watch’d thy footsteps from that hour,

And follow’d thee still on to this wast wild;

Where by all best conjectures I collect

Thou art to be my fatal enemy.

Good reason then, if I before-hand seek

To understand my Adversary, who

And what he is; his wisdom, power, intent,

By parl, or composition, truce, or league

To win him, or win from him what I can. 530

And opportunity I here have had

To try thee, sift thee, and confess have found thee

Proof against all temptation as a rock

Of Adamant, and as a Center, firm

To the utmost of meer man both wise and good,

Not more; for Honours, Riches, Kingdoms, Glory

Have been before contemn’d, and may agen:

Therefore to know what more thou art then man,

Worth naming Son of God by voice from Heav’n,

Another method I must now begin. 540

So saying he caught him up, and without wing

Of Hippogrif bore through the Air sublime

Over the Wilderness and o’re the Plain;

Till underneath them fair Jerusalem,

The holy City lifted high her Towers,

And higher yet the glorious Temple rear’d

Her pile, far off appearing like a Mount

Of Alabaster, top’t with golden Spires:

There on the highest Pinacle he set

The Son of God; and added thus in scorn: 550

There stand, if thou wilt stand; to stand upright

Will ask thee skill; I to thy Fathers house

Have brought thee, and highest plac’t, highest is best,

Now shew thy Progeny; if not to stand,

Cast thy self down; safely if Son of God:

For it is written, He will give command

Concerning thee to his Angels, in thir hands

They shall up lift thee, lest at any time

Thou chance to dash thy foot against a stone.

To whom thus Jesus: also it is written, 560

Tempt not the Lord thy God, he said and stood.

But Satan smitten with amazement fell

As when Earths Son Antaeus (to compare

Small things with greatest) in Irassa strove

With Joves Alcides and oft foil’d still rose,

Receiving from his mother Earth new strength,

Fresh from his fall, and fiercer grapple joyn’d,

Throttl’d at length in the Air, expir’d and fell;

So after many a foil the Tempter proud,

Renewing fresh assaults, amidst his pride 570

Fell whence he stood to see his Victor fall.

And as that Theban Monster that propos’d

Her riddle, and him, who solv’d it not, devour’d;

That once found out and solv’d, for grief and spight

Cast her self headlong from th’ Ismenian steep,

So strook with dread and anguish fell the Fiend,

And to his crew, that sat consulting, brought

Joyless triumphals of his hop’t success,

Ruin, and desperation, and dismay,

Who durst so proudly tempt the Son of God. 580

So Satan fell and strait a fiery Globe

Of Angels on full sail of wing flew nigh,

Who on their plumy Vans receiv’d him soft

From his uneasie station, and upbore

As on a floating couch through the blithe Air,

Then in a flowry valley set him down

On a green bank, and set before him spred

A table of Celestial Food, Divine,

Ambrosial, Fruits fetcht from the tree of life,

And from the fount of life Ambrosial drink, 590

That soon refresh’d him wearied, and repair’d

What hunger, if aught hunger had impair’d,

Or thirst, and as he fed, Angelic Quires

Sung Heavenly Anthems of his victory

Over temptation, and the Tempter proud.

True Image of the Father whether thron’d

In the bosom of bliss, and light of light

Conceiving, or remote from Heaven, enshrin’d

In fleshly Tabernacle, and human form,

Wandring the Wilderness, whatever place, 600

Habit, or state, or motion, still expressing

The Son of God, with Godlike force indu’d

Against th’ Attempter of thy Fathers Throne,

And Thief of Paradise; him long of old

Thou didst debel, and down from Heav’n cast

With all his Army, now thou hast aveng’d

Supplanted Adam, and by vanquishing

Temptation, hast regain’d lost Paradise,

And frustrated the conquest fraudulent:

He never more henceforth will dare set foot 610

In Paradise to tempt; his snares are broke:

For though that seat of earthly bliss be fail’d,

A fairer Paradise is founded now

For Adam and his chosen Sons, whom thou

A Saviour art come down to reinstall.

Where they shall dwell secure, when time shall be

Of Tempter and Temptation without fear.

But thou, Infernal Serpent, shalt not long

Rule in the Clouds; like an Autumnal Star

Or Lightning thou shalt fall from Heav’n trod down 620

Under his feet: for proof, e’re this thou feel’st

Thy wound, yet not thy last and deadliest wound

By this repulse receiv’d, and hold’st in Hell

No triumph; in all her gates Abaddon rues

Thy bold attempt; hereafter learn with awe

To dread the Son of God: he all unarm’d

Shall chase thee with the terror of his voice

From thy Demoniac holds, possession foul,

Thee and thy Legions, yelling they shall flye,

And beg to hide them in a herd of Swine, 630

Lest he command them down into the deep

Bound, and to torment sent before thir time.

Hail Son of the most High, heir of both worlds,

Queller of Satan, on thy glorious work

Now enter, and begin to save mankind.

Thus they the Son of God our Saviour meek

Sling Victor, and from Heavenly Feast refresht

Brought on his way with joy; hee unobserv’d

Home to his Mothers house private return’d.

The End.

This web edition published by:

The University of Adelaide Library
University of Adelaide
South Australia 5005

Last updated Sunday, March 27, 2016 at 11:58