United Public Domain Gold 2/United Public Domain Gold 2.iso/literature/lit013.dms/lit013.adf/PARADISE LOST Book 9

Text File | 1990-01-25 | 56KB | 1,220 lines

                       Book IX
                     The Argument

  Satan having compast the Earth, with meditated guile returns as a
mist by Night into Paradise, enters into the Serpent sleeping. Adam
and Eve in the Morning go forth to thir labours, which Eve proposes to
divide in several places, each labouring apart: Adam consents not,
alledging the danger, lest that Enemy, of whom they were forewarn'd,
should attempt her found alone: Eve loath to be thought not
circumspect or firm enough, urges her going apart, the rather desirous
to make tryal of her strength; Adam at last yields: The Serpent
finds her alone; his subtle approach, first gazing, then speaking,
with much flattery extolling Eve above all other Creatures. Eve
wondring to hear the Serpent speak, asks how he attain'd to human
speech and such understanding not till now; the Serpent answers,
that by tasting of a certain Tree in the Garden he attain'd both to
Speech and Reason, till then void of both: Eve requires him to bring
her to that Tree, and finds it to be the Tree of Knowledge
forbidden: The Serpent now grown bolder, with many wiles and arguments
induces her at length to eat; she pleas'd with the taste deliberates
awhile whether to impart thereof to Adam or not, at last brings him of
the Fruit, relates what persuaded her to eat thereof: Adam at first
amaz'd, but perceiving her lost, resolves through vehemence of love to
perish with her; and extenuating the trespass, eats also of the Fruit:
The effects thereof in them both; they seek to cover thir nakedness,
then fall to variance and accusation of one another.

  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 Tragic; foul distrust, and breach
  Disloyal on the part of Man, revolt,
  And disobedience: On the part of Heav'n
  Now alienated, distance and distaste,
  Anger and just rebuke, and judgement giv'n
  That brought into this World a world of woe,
  Sinne and her shadow Death, and Miserie
  Deaths Harbinger: Sad task, yet argument
  Not less but more Heroic then the wrauth
  Of stern Achilles on his Foe pursu'd
  Thrice Fugitive about Troy Wall; or rage
  Of Turnus for Lavinia disespous'd,
  Or Neptun's ire or Juno's, that so long
  Perplex'd the Greek and Cytherea's Son;
  If answerable style I can obtaine
  Of my Celestial Patroness, who deignes
  Her nightly visitation unimplor'd,
  And dictates to me slumbring, or inspires
  Easie my unpremeditated Verse:
  Since first this Subject for Heroic Song
  Pleas'd me long choosing, and beginning late
  Not sedulous by Nature to indite
  Warrs, hitherto the onely Argument
  Heroic deem'd, chief maistrie to dissect
  With long and tedious havoc fabl'd Knights
  In Battels feign'd; the better fortitude
  Of Patience and Heroic Martyrdom
  Unsung; or to describe Races and Games,
  Or tilting Furniture, emblazon'd Shields,
  Impreses quaint, Caparisons and Steeds
  Bases and tinsel Trappings, gorgious Knights
  At joust and Torneament; then marshal'd Feast
  Serv'd up in Hall with Sewers, and Seneshals;
  The skill of Artifice or Office mean,
  Not that which justly gives Heroic name
  To Person or to Poem. Mee of these
  Nor skilld nor studious, higher Argument
  Remaines, sufficient of it self to raise
  That name, unless an age too late, or cold
  Climat, or Years damp may intended wing
  Deprest, 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 Starr
  Of Hesperus, whose Office is to bring
  Twilight upon the Earth, short Arbiter
  Twixt Day and Night, and now from end to end
  Nights Hemisphere had veild 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 mans destruction, maugre what might hap
  Of heavier on himself, fearless return'd.
  By Night he fled, and at Midnight return'd
  From compassing the Earth, cautious of day,
  Since Uriel Regent of the Sun descri'd
  His entrance, and forewarnd the Cherubim
  That kept thir watch; thence full of anguish driv'n,
  The space of of seven continu'd Nights he rode
  With darkness, thrice the Equinoctial Line
  He circl'd, four times cross'd the Carr of Night
  From Pole to Pole, traversing each Colure;
  On the eighth return'd, and on the Coast averse
  From entrance or Cherubic Watch, by stealth
  Found unsuspected way. There was a place,
  Now not, though Sin, not Time, first wraught 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 involv'd in rising Mist, then sought
  Where to lie hid; Sea he had searcht and Land
  From Eden over Pontus, and the Poole
  Maeotis, up beyond the River Ob;
  Downward as farr Antartic; and in length
  West from Orontes to the Ocean barr'd
  At Darien, thence to the Land where flowes
  Ganges and Indus: thus the Orb he roam'd
  With narrow search; and with inspection deep
  Consider'd every Creature, which of all
  Most opportune might serve his Wiles, and found
  The Serpent suttlest Beast of all the Field.
  Him after long debate, irresolute.
  Of thoughts revolv'd, his final sentance chose
  Fit Vessel, fittest Imp of fraud, in whom
  To enter, and his dark suggestions hide
  From sharpest sight: for in the wilie Snake,
  Whatever sleights none would suspicious mark,
  As from his wit and native suttletie
  Proceeding, which in other Beasts observ'd
  Doubt might beget of Diabolic pow'r
  Active within beyond the sense of brute.
  Thus he resolv'd, but first from inward griefe
  His bursting passion into plaints thus pour'd:
    O Earth, how like to Heav'n, if not preferr'd
  More justly, Seat worthier of Gods, as built
  With second thoughts, reforming what was old!
  For what God after better worse would build?
  Terrestrial Heav'n, danc't round by other Heav'ns
  That shine, yet bear thir bright officious Lamps,
  Light above Light, for thee alone, as seems,
  In thee concentring all thir precious beams
  Of sacred influence: As God in Heav'n
  Is Center yet extends to all, so thou
  Centring receav'st from all those Orbs; in thee,
  Not in Themselves, all thir known vertue appeers
  Productive in Herb, Plant, and nobler birth
  Of Creatures animate with gradual life
  Of Growth, Sense, Reason, all summ'd up in Man.
  With what delight could I have walk't thee round
  If I could joy in aught, sweet interchange
  Of Hill and Vallie, Rivers, Woods and Plaines,
  Now Land, now Sea, & Shores with Forrest crownd,
  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 Heav'n much worse would be my state.
  But neither here seek I, no nor in Heav'n
  To dwell, unless by maistring Heav'ns Supreame;
  Nor hope to be my self less miserable
  By what I seek, but others to make such
  As I, though thereby worse to me redound:
  For onely in destroying I finde ease
  To my relentless thoughts; and him destroyd,
  Or won to what may work his utter loss,
  For whom all this was made, all this will soon
  Follow, as to him linkt in weal or woe,
  In wo then; that destruction wide may range:
  To mee shall be the glorie sole among
  The infernal Powers, in one day to have marr'd
  What he Almightie styl'd, six Nights and Days
  Continu'd making, and who knows how long
  Before had bin contriving, though perhaps
  Not longer then since I in one Night freed
  From servitude inglorious welnigh half
  Th' Angelic Name, and thinner left the throng
  Of his adorers: hee to be aveng'd,
  And to repaire his numbers thus impair'd,
  Whether such vertue spent of old now faild
  More Angels to Create, if they at least
  Are his Created or to spite us more,
  Determin'd to advance into our room
  A Creature form'd of Earth, and him endow,
  Exalted from so base original,
  With Heav'nly spoils, our spoils; What he decreed
  He effected; Man he made, and for him built
  Magnificent this World, and Earth his seat,
  Him Lord pronounc'd, and, O indignitie!
  Subjected to his service Angel wings,
  And flaming Ministers to watch and tend
  Thir earthie Charge: Of these the vigilance
  I dread, and to elude, thus wrapt in mist
  Of midnight vapor glide obscure, and prie
  In every Bush and Brake, where hap may finde
  The Serpent sleeping, in whose mazie foulds
  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 constraind
  Into a Beast, and mixt with bestial slime,
  This essence to incarnate and imbrute,
  That to the hight of Deitie aspir'd;
  But what will not Ambition and Revenge
  Descend to? who aspires must down as low
  As high he soard, obnoxious first or last
  To basest things. Revenge, at first though sweet,
  Bitter ere long back on it self recoiles;
  Let it; I reck not, so it light well aim'd,
  Since higher I fall short, on him who next
  Provokes my envie, this new Favorite
  Of Heav'n, this Man of Clay, Son of despite,
  Whom us the more to spite his Maker rais'd
  From dust: spite then with spite is best repaid.
    So saying, through each Thicket Danck or Drie,
  Like a black mist low creeping, he held on
  His midnight search, where soonest he might finde
  The Serpent: him fast sleeping soon he found
  In Labyrinth of many a round self-rowld,
  His head the midst, well stor'd with suttle wiles:
  Not yet in horrid Shade or dismal Den,
  Not nocent yet, but on the grassie Herbe
  Fearless unfeard he slept: in at his Mouth
  The Devil enterd, and his brutal sense,
  In heart or head, possessing soon inspir'd
  With act intelligential; but his sleep
  Disturb'd not, waiting close th' approach of Morn.
  Now whenas sacred Light began to dawne
  In Eden on the humid Flours, that breathd
  Thir morning Incense, when all things that breath,
  From th' Earths great Altar send up silent praise
  To the Creator, and his Nostrils fill
  With, gratefull Smell, forth came the human pair
  And joynd thir vocal Worship to the Quire
  Of Creatures wanting voice, that done, partake
  The season, prime for sweetest Sents and Aires:
  Then commune how that day they best may ply
  Thir growing work: for much thir work outgrew
  The hands dispatch of two Gardning 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 Flour.
  Our pleasant task enjoyn'd, 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 wilde. Thou therefore now advise
  Or hear 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 Ivie where to climb, while I
  In yonder Spring of Roses intermixt
  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 dayes work brought to little, though begun
  Early, and th' hour of Supper comes unearn'd.
    To whom mild answer Adam thus return'd.
  Sole Eve, Associate sole, to me beyond
  Compare above an living Creatures deare,
  Well hast thou motion'd, wel thy thoughts imployd
  How we might best fulfill the work which here
  God hath assign'd us, nor of me shalt pass
  Unprais'd: for nothing lovelier can be found
  In woman, then to studie houshold good,
  And good workes in her Husband to promote.
  Yet not so strictly hath our Lord impos'd
  Labour, as to debarr 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 deni'd, and are of Love the food,
  Love not the lowest end of human life.
  For not to irksom toile, but to delight
  He made us, and delight to Reason joyn'd.
  These paths and Bowers doubt not but our joynt 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 yeild.
  For solitude somtimes is best societie,
  And short retirement urges sweet returne.
  But other doubt possesses me, least harm
  Befall thee severd from me; for thou knowst
  What hath bin warn'd us, what malicious Foe
  Envying our happiness, and of his own
  Despairing, and to work us woe and shame
  By sly assault; and somwhere nigh at hand
  Watches, no doubt, with greedy hope to find
  His wish and best advantage, us asunder,
  Hopeless to circumvent us joynd, where each
  To other speedie aide might lend at need;
  Whether his first design be to withdraw
  Our fealtie from God, or to disturb
  Conjugal Love, then which perhaps no bliss
  Enjoy'd by us excites his envie more;
  Or this, or worse, leave not the faithful side
  That gave thee being, stil shades thee and protects.
  The Wife, where danger or dishonour lurks,
  Safest and seemliest by her Husband staies,
  Who guards her, or with her the worst endures.
    To whom the Virgin Majestie of Eve,
  As one who loves, and some unkindness meets,
  With sweet austeer composure thus reply'd.
    Ofspring of Heav'n and Earth, and all Earths Lord,
  That such an Enemie we have, who seeks
  Our ruin, both by thee informd I learne,
  And from the parting Angel over-heard
  As in a shadie nook I stood behind,
  Just then return'd at shut of Evening Flours.
  But that thou shouldst my firmness therfore doubt
  To God or thee, because we have a foe
  May tempt it, I expected not to hear.
  His violence thou fearst not, being such,
  As wee, not capable of death or paine,
  Can either not receave, or can repell.
  His fraud is then thy fear, which-plain inferrs
  Thy equal fear that my firm Faith and Love
  Can by his fraud be shak'n or seduc't;
  Thoughts, which how found they harbour in thy brest,
  Adam, missthought of her to thee so dear?
    To whom with healing words Adam reply'd.
  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
  Th' attempt it self, intended by our Foe.
  For hee who tempts, though in vain, at least asperses
  The tempted with dishonour foul, suppos'd
  Not incorruptible of Faith, not prooff
  Against temptation: thou thy self with scorne
  And anger wouldst resent the offer'd wrong,
  Though ineffectual found: misdeem not then,
  If such affront I labour to avert
  From thee alone, which on us both at once
  The Enemie, though bold, will hardly dare,
  Or daring, first on mee th' assault shall light.
  Nor thou his malice and false guile contemn;
  Suttle he needs must be, who could seduce
  Angels, nor think superfluous others aid.
  I from the influence of thy looks receave
  Access in every Vertue, 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-reacht
  Would utmost vigor raise, and rais'd unite.
  Why shouldst not thou like sense within thee feel
  When I am present, and thy trial choose
  With me, best witness of thy Vertue tri'd.
    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 renewd.
    If this be our condition, thus to dwell
  In narrow circuit strait'nd by a Foe,
  Suttle or violent, we not endu'd
  Single with like defence, wherever met,
  How are we happie, still in fear of harm?
  But harm precedes not sin: onely our Foe
  Tempting affronts us with his foul esteem
  Of our integritie: his foul esteeme
  Sticks no dishonor on our Front, but turns
  Foul on himself; then wherfore shund or feard
  By us? who rather double honour gaine
  From his surmise prov'd false, finde peace within,
  Favour from Heav'n, our witness from th' event.
  And what is Faith, Love, Vertue unassaid
  Alone, without exterior help sustaind?
  Let us not then suspect our happie State
  Left so imperfet by the Maker wise,
  As not secure to single or combin'd.
  Fraile is our happiness, if this be so,
  And Eden were no Eden thus expos'd.
    To whom thus Adam fervently repli'd.
  O Woman, best are all things as the will
  Of God ordaind them, his creating hand
  Nothing imperfet or deficient left
  Of all that he Created, much less Man,
  Or ought that might his happie State secure,
  Secure from outward force; within himself
  The danger lies, yet lies within his power:
  Against his will he can receave no harme.
  But God left free the Will, for what obeyes
  Reason, is free, and Reason he made right
  But bid her well beware, and still erect,
  Least by some faire appeering good surpris'd
  She dictate false, and misinformed the Will
  To do what God expressly hath forbid.
  Not then mistrust, but tender love enjoynes,
  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 subornd,
  And fall into deception unaware,
  Not keeping strictest watch, as she was warnd
  Seek not temptation then, which to avoide
  Were better, and most likelie if from mee
  Thou sever not: Trial will come unsought.
  Wouldst thou approve thy constancie, approve
  First thy obedience; th' other who can know,
  Not seeing thee attempted, who attest?
  But if thou think, trial unsought may finde
  Us both securer then thus warnd thou seemst,
  Go; for thy stay, not free, absents thee more;
  Go in thy native innocence, relie
  On what thou hast of vertue, summon all,
  For God towards thee hath done his part, do thine.
    So spake the Patriarch of Mankinde, but Eve
  Persisted, yet submiss, though last, repli'd.
  With thy permission then, and thus forewarnd
  Chiefly by what thy own last reasoning words
  Touchd onely, that our trial, when least sought,
  May finde us both perhaps farr less prepar'd,
  The willinger I goe, nor much expect
  A Foe so will first the weaker seek;
  So bent, the more shall shame him his repulse.
  Thus saying, from her Husbands hand her hand
  Soft she withdrew, and like a Wood-Nymph light
  Oread or Dryad, or of Delia's Traine,
  Betook her to the Groves, but Delia's self
  In gate surpass'd and Goddess-like deport,
  Though not as shee with Bow and Quiver armd,
  But with such Gardning Tools as Art yet rude,
  Guiltless of fire had formd, or Angels brought.
  To Pales, or Pomona, thus adornd,
  Likest she seemd, Pomona when she fled
  Vertumnus, or to Ceres in her Prime,
  Yet Virgin of Proserpina from Jove.
  Her long with ardent look his Eye pursu'd
  Delighted, but desiring more her stay.
  Oft he to her his charge of quick returne
  Repeated, shee to him as oft engag'd
  To be returnd by Noon amid the Bowre,
  And all things in best order to invite
  Noontide repast, or Afternoons repose.
  O much deceav much failing, hapless Eve,
  Of thy presum'd return! event perverse!
  Thou never from that houre in Paradise
  Foundst either sweet repast, or sound repose;
  Such ambush hid among sweet Flours and Shades
  Waited with hellish rancor imminent
  To intercept thy way, or send thee back
  Despoild of Innocence, of Faith, of Bliss.
  For now, and since first break of dawne the Fiend.
  Meer Serpent in appearance, forth was come,
  And on his Quest, Where likeliest he might finde
  The onely two of Mankinde, but in them
  The whole included Race, his purposd prey.
  In Bowre and Field he sought, where any tuft
  Of Grove or Garden-Plot more pleasant lay,
  Thir tendance or Plantation for delight,
  By Fountain or by shadie Rivulet
  He sought them both, but wish'd his hap might find
  Eve separate, he wish'd, but not with hope
  Of what so seldom chanc'd, when to his wish,
  Beyond his hope, Eve separate he spies,
  Veil'd in a Cloud of Fragrance, where she stood,
  Half spi'd, so thick the Roses bushing round
  About her glowd, oft stooping to support
  Each Flour slender stalk, whose head though gay
  Carnation, Purple, Azure, or spect with Gold,
  Hung drooping unsustained, them she upstaies
  Gently with Mirtle band, mindless the while,
  Her self, though fairest unsupported Flour,
  From her best prop so farr, and storm so nigh.
  Neerer he drew, and many a walk traversd
  Of stateliest Covert, Cedar, Pine, or Palme,
  Then voluble and bold, now hid, now seen
  Among thick-wov'n Arborets and Flours
  Imborderd on each Bank, the hand of Eve:
  Spot more delicious then those Gardens feign'd
  Or of reviv'd Adonis, or renownd
  Alcinous, host of old Laertes Son,
  Or that, not Mystic, where the Sapient King
  Held dalliance with his faire Egyptian Spouse.
  Much hee the Place admir'd, the Person more.
  As one who long in populous City pent,
  Where Houses thick and Sewers annoy the Aire,
  Forth issuing on a Summers Morn to breathe
  Among the pleasant Villages and Farmes
  Adjoynd, from each thing met conceaves delight,
  The smell of Grain, or tedded Grass, or Kine.
  Or Dairie, each rural sight, each rural sound;
  If chance with Nymphlike step fair Virgin pass,
  What pleasing seemd, for her now pleases more,
  She most, and her looks summs all Delight.
  Such Pleasure took the Serpent to behold
  This Flourie Plat, the sweet recess of Eve
  Thus earlie, thus alone; her Heav'nly forme
  Angelic, but more soft, and Feminine,
  Her graceful Innocence, her every Aire
  Of gesture or lest action overawd
  His Malice, and with rapine sweet bereav'd
  His fierceness of the fierce intent it brought:
  That space the Evil one abstracted stood
  From his own evil and for the time remaind
  Stupidly good, of enmitie disarm'd,
  Of guile, of hate, of envie, of revenge;
  But the hot Hell that alwayes in him burnes,
  Though in mid Heav'n, soon ended his delight,
  And tortures him now more, the more he sees
  Of pleasure not for him ordain'd: then soon
  Fierce hate he recollects, and all his thoughts
  Of mischief, gratulating, thus excites.
    Thoughts, whither have ye led me, with what sweet
  Compulsion thus transported to forget
  What hither brought us, hate, nor 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 hautie, and of limb
  Heroic built, though of terrestrial mould,
  Foe not informidable, exempt from wound,
  I not; so much hath Hell debas'd, and paine
  Infeebl'd me, to what I was in Heav'n.
  Shee fair, divinely fair, fit Love for Gods,
  Not terrible, though terrour be in Love
  And beautie, not approacht by stronger hate,
  Hate stronger, under shew of Love well feign'd,
  The way which to her ruin now I tend.
    So spake the Enemie of Mankind, enclos'd
  In Serpent, Inmate bad, and toward Eve
  Address'd his way, not with indented wave,
  Prone on the ground, as since, but on his reare,
  Circular base of rising foulds, that tour'd
  Fould above fould a surging Maze, his Head
  Crested aloft, and Carbuncle his Eyes;
  With burnisht Neck of verdant Gold, erect
  Amidst his circling Spires, that on the grass
  Floted redundant: pleasing was his shape,
  And lovely, never since of Serpent kind
  Lovelier, not those that in Illyria chang'd
  Hermione and Cadmus, or the God
  In Epidaurus; nor to which transformd
  Ammonian Jove, or Capitoline was seen,
  Hee with Olympias, this with her who bore
  Scipio the highth of Rome. With tract oblique
  At first, as one who sought access, but feard
  To interrupt, side-long he works his way.
  As when a Ship by skilful Stearsman wrought
  Nigh Rivers mouth or Foreland, where the Wind
  Veres oft, as oft so steers, and shifts her Saile;
  So varied hee, and of his tortuous Traine
  Curld many a wanton wreath in sight of Eve,
  To lure her Eye; shee busied heard the sound
  Of rusling Leaves, but minded not, as us'd
  To such disport before her through the Field,
  From every Beast, more duteous at her call,
  Then at Circean call the Herd disguis'd.
  Hee boulder now, uncall'd before her stood;
  But as in gaze admiring: Oft he bowd
  His turret Crest, and sleek enamel'd Neck,
  Fawning, and lick'd the ground whereon she trod.
  His gentle dumb expression turn'd at length
  The Eye of Eve to mark his play; he glad
  Of her attention gaind, with Serpent Tongue
  Organic, 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 Heav'n of mildness, with disdain,
  Displeas'd that I approach thee thus, and gaze
  Insatiate, I thus single, nor have feard
  Thy awful brow, more awful thus retir'd.
  Fairest resemblance of thy Maker faire,
  Thee all things living gaze on, all things thine
  By gift, and thy Celestial Beautie adore
  With ravishment beheld, there best beheld
  Where universally admir'd: but here
  In this enclosure wild, these Beasts among,
  Beholders rude, and shallow to discerne
  Half what in thee is fair, one man except,
  Who sees thee? (and what is one?) who shouldst be seen
  A Goddess among Gods, ador'd and serv'd
  By Angels numberless, thy daily Train.
    So gloz'd the Tempter, and his Proem tun'd;
  Into the Heart of Eve his words made way,
  Though at the voice much marveling; at length
  Not unamaz'd she thus in answer spake.
  What may this mean? Language of Man pronounc't
  By Tongue of Brute, and human sense exprest?
  The first at lest of these I thought deni'd
  To Beasts, whom God on thir Creation-Day
  Created mute to all articulat sound;
  The latter I demurre, for in thir looks
  Much reason, and in thir actions oft appeers.
  Thee, Serpent, suttlest beast of all the field
  I knew, but not with human voice endu'd;
  Redouble then this miracle, and say,
  How cam'st 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 reply'd.
  Empress of this fair World, resplendent Eve,
  Easie to mee it is to tell thee all
  What thou commandst and right thou shouldst be obeyd:
  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 discern'd
  Or Sex, and apprehended nothing high:
  Till on a day roaving the field, I chanc'd
  A goodly Tree farr distant to behold
  Loaden with fruit of fairest colours mixt,
  Ruddie and Gold: I nearer drew to gaze;
  When from the boughes a savorie odour blow'n,
  Grateful to appetite, more pleas'd my sense
  Then smell of sweetest Fenel, or the Teats
  Of Ewe or Goat dropping with Milk at Eevn,
  Unsuckt of Lamb or Kid, that tend thir play.
  To satisfie the sharp desire I had
  Of tasting those fair Apples, I resolv'd
  Not to deferr; hunger and thirst at once,
  Powerful perswaders, quick'nd at the scent
  Of that alluring fruit, urg'd me so keene.
  About the Mossie Trunk I wound me soon,
  For high from ground the branches would require
  Thy utmost reach or Adams: 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 plentie hung
  Tempting eat my to pluck and eat my fill
  I spar'd not, for such pleasure till that hour
  At Feed or Fountain never had I found.
  Sated at length, ere long I might perceave
  Strange alteration in me, to degree
  Of Reason in my inward Powers, and Speech
  Wanted not long, though to this shape retaind.
  Thenceforth to Speculations high or deep
  I turnd my thoughts, and with capacious mind
  Considerd all things visible in Heav'n,
  Or Earth, or Middle, all things fair and good;
  But all that fair and good in thy Divine
  Semblance, and in thy Beauties heav'nly Ray
  United I beheld; no Fair to thine
  Equivalent or second, which compel'd
  Mee thus, though importune perhaps, to come
  And gaze, and worship thee of right declar'd
  Sovran of Creatures, universal Dame.
    So talk'd the spirited sly Snake; and Eve
  Yet more amaz'd unwarie thus reply'd.
    Serpent, thy overpraising leaves in doubt
  The vertue of that Fruit, in thee first prov'd:
  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 untoucht,
  Still more incorruptible, till men
  Grow up to thir provision, and more hands
  Help to disburden Nature of her Bearth.
    To whom the wilie Adder, blithe and glad.
  Empress, the way is readie, and not long,
  Beyond a row of Myrtles, on a Flat,
  Fast by a Fountain, one small Thicket past
  Of blowing Myrrh and Balme; if thou accept
  My conduct, I can bring thee thither soon.
    Lead then, said Eve. Hee leading swiftly rowld
  In tangles, and made intricate seem strait,
  To mischief swift. Hope elevates, and joy
  Bright'ns his Crest, as when a wandring Fire
  Compact of unctuous vapor, which the Night
  Condenses, and the cold invirons round,
  Kindl'd through agitation to a Flame,
  Which oft, they say, some evil Spirit attends,
  Hovering and blazing with delusive Light,
  Misleads th' amaz'd Night-wanderer from his way
  To Boggs and Mires, & oft through Pond or Poole,
  There swallow'd up and lost, from succour farr.
  So glister'd 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 spar'd our coming hither,
  Fruitless to me, though Fruit be here to excess,
  The credit of whose vertue rest with thee,
  Wondrous 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 our selves, our Reason is our Law.
    To whom the Tempter guilefully repli'd.
  Indeed? hath God then said that of the Fruit
  Of all these Garden Trees ye shall not eate,
  Yet Lords declar'd of all in Earth or Aire?
    To whom thus Eve yet sinless. Of the Fruit
  Of each Tree in the Garden we may eate,
  But of the Fruit of this fair Tree amidst
  The Garden, God hath said, Ye shall not eate
  Thereof, nor shall ye touch it, least ye die.
    She scarse had said, though brief, when now more bold
  The Tempter, but with shew of Zeale and Love
  To Man, and indignation at his wrong,
  New part puts on, and as to passion mov'd,
  Fluctuats disturbd, yet comely, and in act
  Rais'd, as of som great matter to begin.
  As when of old som Orator renound
  In Athens or free Rome, where Eloquence
  Flourishd, since mute, to som great cause addrest,
  Stood in himself collected, while each part,
  Motion, each act won audience ere the tongue,
  Somtimes in highth began, as no delay
  Of Preface brooking through his Zeal of Right.
  So standing, moving, or to highth upgrown
  The Tempter all impassiond thus began.
    O Sacred, Wise, and Wisdom-giving Plant,
  Mother of Science, Now I feel thy Power
  Within me cleere, not onely to discerne
  Things in thir Causes, but to trace the wayes
  Of highest Agents, deemd however wise.
  Queen of this Universe, doe not believe
  Those rigid threats of Death; ye shall not Die:
  How should ye? by the Fruit? it gives you Life
  To Knowledge: By the Threatner? look on mee,
  Mee who have touch'd and tasted, yet both live,
  And life more perfet have attaind then Fate
  Meant mee, by ventring higher then 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 vertue, whom the pain
  Of Death denounc't, whatever thing Death be,
  Deterrd not from atchieving what might leade
  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 shunnd?
  God therefore cannot hurt ye, and be just;
  Not just, not God; not feard then, nor obeid:
  Your feare it self of Death removes the feare.
  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 Eate thereof, your Eyes that seem so cleere,
  Yet are but dim, shall perfetly be then
  Op'nd and cleerd, and ye shall be as Gods,
  Knowing both Good and Evil as they know.
  That ye should be as Gods, since I as Man,
  Internal Man, is but proportion meet,
  I of brute human, yee of human Gods.
  So ye shall die perhaps, by putting off
  Human, to put on Gods, death to be wisht,
  Though threat'nd, which no worse then 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,
  Warm'd by the Sun, producing every kind,
  Them nothing: If they all things, who enclos'd
  Knowledge of Good and Evil in this Tree,
  That whoso eats thereof, forthwith attains
  Wisdom without their leave? and wherein lies
  Th' 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 envie, and can envie dwell
  In heav'nly brests? 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 easie entrance won:
  Fixt on the Fruit she gaz'd, which to behold
  Might tempt alone, and in her ears the sound
  Yet rung of his perswasive words, impregn'd
  With Reason, to her seeming, and with Truth;
  Meanwhile the hour of Noon drew on, and wak'd
  An eager appetite, rais'd by the smell
  So savorie of that Fruit, which with desire,
  Inclinable now grown to touch or taste,
  Sollicited her longing eye; yet first
  Pausing a while, thus to her self she mus'd.
    Great are thy Vertues, doubtless, best of Fruits,
  Though kept from Man, & worthy to be admir'd,
  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 hee also who forbids thy use,
  Conceales 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 inferrs 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 binde not. But if Death
  Bind us with after-bands, what profits then
  Our inward freedom? In the day we eate
  Of this fair Fruit, our doom is, shall die.
  How dies the Serpent? hee hath eat'n and lives,
  And knows, and speaks, and reasons, and discernes,
  Irrational till then. For us alone
  Was death invented? or to us deni'd
  This intellectual food, for beasts reserv'd?
  For Beasts it seems: yet that one Beast which first
  Hath tasted, envies not, but brings with joy
  The good befall'n him, Author unsuspect,
  Friendly to man, farr from deceit or guile.
  What fear I then, rather what know to feare
  Under this ignorance of Good and Evil,
  Of God or Death, of Law or Penaltie?
  Here grows the Cure of all, this Fruit Divine,
  Fair to the Eye, inviting to the Taste,
  Of vertue to make wise: what hinders then
  To reach, and feed at once both Bodie and Mind?
    So saying, her rash hand in evil hour
  Forth reaching to the Fruit, she pluck'd, 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 guiltie Serpent, and well might, for Eve
  Intent now wholly on her taste, naught else
  Regarded, such dilight till then, as seemd,
  In Fruit she never tasted, whether true
  Or fansied so, through expectation high
  Of knowledge, nor was God-head from her thought.
  Greedily she ingore'd without restraint,
  And knew not eating Death: Satiate at length,
  And hight'nd as with Wine, jocond'and boon,
  Thus to her self she pleasingly began.
    O Sovran, vertuous, precious of all Trees
  In Paradise, of operation blest
  To Sapience, hitherto obscur'd, infam'd,
  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 fertil burden ease
  Of thy full branches offer'd free to all;
  Till dieted by thee I grow mature
  In knowledge, as the Gods who all things know;
  Though others envie what they cannot give;
  For had the gift bin theirs, it had not here
  Thus grown. Experience, next to thee I owe,
  Best guide; not following thee, I had remaind
  In ignorance, thou op'nst Wisdoms way,
  And giv'st access, though secret she retire.
  And I perhaps am secret; Heav'n 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 appeer? shall I to him make known
  As yet my change, and give him to partake
  Full happiness with mee, or rather not,
  But keep the odds of Knowledge in my power
  Without Copartner? so to add what wants
  In Femal Sex, the more to draw his Love,
  And render me more equal, and perhaps,
  A thing not undesirable, somtime
  Superior: for inferior 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. Confirm'd 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 turnd,
  But first low Reverence don, as to the power
  That dwelt within, whose presence had infus'd
  Into the plant sciential sap, deriv'd
  From Nectar, drink of Gods. Adam the while
  Waiting desirous her return, had wove
  Of choicest Flours a Garland to adorne
  Her Tresses, and her rural labours crown
  As Reapers oft are wont thir Harvest Queen.
  Great joy he promis'd to his thoughts, and new
  Solace in her return, so long delay'd;
  Yet oft his heart, divine of somthing ill,
  Misgave him; hee the faultring 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,
  Scarse from the Tree returning; in her hand
  A bough of fairest fruit that downie smil'd,
  New gatherd, and ambrosial smell diffus'd.
  To him she hasted, in her face excuse
  Came Prologue, and Apologie to prompt,
  Which with bland words at will she thus addrest.
    Hast thou not wonderd, Adam, at my stay?
  Thee I have misst, and thought it long, depriv'd
  Thy presence, agonie of love till now
  Not felt, nor shall be twice, for never more
  Mean I to trie, what rash untri'd I sought,
  The paine of absence from thy sight. But strange
  Hath the cause, and wonderful to heare:
  This Tree is not as we are told, a Tree
  Of danger tasted, nor to evil unknown
  Op'ning the way, but of Divine effect
  To open Eyes, and make them Gods who taste;
  And hath bin tasted such: the Serpent wise,
  Or not restraind as wee, or not obeying,
  Hath eat'n of the fruit, and is become,
  Not dead, as we are threatn'd, but thenceforth
  Endu'd with human voice and human sense,
  Reasoning to admiration, and with me
  Perswasively hath so prevaild, that I
  Have also tasted, and have also found
  Th' effects to correspond, opener mine Eyes
  Dimm 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, unshar'd with thee, and odious soon.
  Thou therfore also taste, that equal Lot
  May joyne us, equal Joy, as equal Love;
  Least thou not tasting, different degree
  Disjoyne us, and I then too late renounce
  Deitie for thee, when Fate will not permit.
    Thus Eve with Countnance blithe her storie told;
  But in her Cheek distemper flushing glowd.
  On th' other side, Adam, soon as he heard
  The fatal Trespass done by Eve, amaz'd,
  Astonied stood and Blank, while horror chill
  Ran through his veins, and all his joynts relax'd;
  From his slack hand the Garland wreath' d for Eve
  Down drop'd, 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 Gods Works, Creature in whom excell'd
  Whatever can to sight or thought be formd,
  Holy, divine, good, amiable, or sweet!
  How art thou lost, how on a sudden lost,
  Defac't, deflourd, and now to Death devote?
  Rather how hast thou yeelded to transgress
  The strict forbiddance, how to violate
  The sacred Fruit forbidd'n! som cursed fraud
  Of Enemie hath beguil'd thee, yet unknown,
  And mee with thee hath ruind, for with thee
  Certain my resolution is to Die;
  How can I live without thee, how forgoe
  Thy sweet Converse and Love so dearly joyn'd,
  To live again in these wilde 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 disturbd
  Submitting to what seemd remediless,
  Thus in calme mood his Words to Eve he turnd.
    Bold deed thou hast presum'd, adventrous Eve
  And peril great provok't, who thus hast dar'd
  Had it bin onely coveting to Eye
  That sacred Fruit, sacred to abstinence,
  Much more to taste it under banne to touch.
  But past who can recall, or don undoe?
  Not God Omnipotent, nor Fate, yet so
  Perhaps thou shalt not Die, perhaps the Fact
  Is not so hainous now, foretasted Fruit,
  Profan'd first by the Serpent, by him first
  Made common and unhallowd ere our taste;
  Nor yet on him found deadly, he yet lives,
  Lives, as thou saidst, and gaines to live as Man
  Higher degree of Life, inducement strong
  To us, as likely tasting to attaine
  Proportional ascent, which cannot be
  But to be Gods, or Angels Demi-gods.
  Nor can I think that God, Creator wise,
  Though threatning, will in earnest so destroy
  Us his prime Creatures, dignifi'd so high,
  Set over all his Works, which in our Fall,
  For us created, needs with us must faile,
  Dependent made; so God shall uncreate,
  Be frustrate, do, undo, and labour loose,
  Not well conceav'd of God, who though his Power
  Creation could repeate, yet would be loath
  Us to abolish, least the Adversary
  Triumph and say; Fickle their State whom God
  Most Favors, who can please him long? Mee first
  He ruind, now Mankind; whom will he next?
  Matter of scorne, not to be given the Foe.
  However I with thee have fixt my Lot,
  Certain to undergoe like doom, if Death
  Consort with thee, Death is to mee as Life;
  So forcible within my heart I feel
  The Bond of Nature draw me to my owne,
  My own in thee, for what thou art is mine;
  Our State cannot be severd, we are one,
  One Flesh; to loose thee were to loose my self.
    So Adam, and thus Eve to him repli'd.
  O glorious trial of exceeding Love,
  Illustrious evidence, example high!
  Ingaging me to emulate, but short
  Of thy perfection, how shall I attaine,
  Adam, from whose deare side I boast me sprung,
  And gladly of our Union heare thee speak,
  One Heart, one Soul in both; whereof good proof
  This day affords, declaring thee resolvd,
  Rather then Death or aught then Death more dread
  Shall separate us, linkt in Love so deare,
  To undergoe with mee one Guilt, one Crime,
  If any be, of tasting this fair Fruit,
  Whose vertue, for of good still good proceeds,
  Direct, or by occasion hath presented
  This happie trial of thy Love, which else
  So eminently never had bin known.
  Were it I thought Death menac't would ensue
  This my attempt, I would sustain alone
  The worst, and not perswade thee, rather die
  Deserted, then oblige thee with a fact
  Pernicious to thy Peace, chiefly assur'd
  Remarkably so late of thy so true,
  So faithful Love unequald; but feel
  Farr otherwise th' event, not Death, but Life
  Augmented, op'nd Eyes, new Hopes, new Joyes,
  Taste so Divine, that what of sweet before
  Hath toucht my sense, flat seems to this, and harsh.
  On my experience, Adam, freely taste,
  And fear of Death deliver to the Windes.
    So saying, she embrac'd him, and for joy
  Tenderly wept, much won that he his Love
  Had so enobl'd, 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 scrupl'd not to eat
  Against his better knowledge, not deceav'd,
  But fondly overcome with Femal charm.
  Earth trembl'd from her entrails, as again
  In pangs, and Nature gave a second groan,
  Skie lowr'd, and muttering Thunder, som sad drops
  Wept at compleating of the mortal Sin
  Original; while Adam took no thought,
  Eating his fill, nor Eve to iterate
  Her former trespass fear'd, the more to soothe
  Him with her lov'd societie, that now
  As with new Wine intoxicated both
  They swim in mirth, and fansie that they feel
  Divinitie within them breeding wings
  Wherewith to scorn the Earth: but that false Fruit
  Farr other operation first displaid,
  Carnal desire enflaming, hee on Eve
  Began to cast lascivious Eyes, she him
  As wantonly repaid; in Lust they burne:
  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
  Yeild thee, so well this day thou hast purvey'd.
  Much pleasure we have lost, while we abstain'd
  From this delightful Fruit, nor known till now
  True relish, tasting; if such pleasure be
  In things to us forbidden, it might be wish'd,
  For this one Tree had bin forbidden ten.
  But come, so well refresh't, now let us play,
  As meet is, after such delicious Fare;
  For never did thy Beautie since the day
  I saw thee first and wedded thee, adorn'd
  With all perfections, so enflame my sense
  With ardor to enjoy thee, fairer now
  Than ever, bountie of this vertuous 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 seis'd, and to a shadie bank,
  Thick overhead with verdant roof imbowr'd
  He led her nothing loath; Flours were the Couch,
  Pansies, and Violets, and Asphodel,
  And Hyacinth, Earths freshest softest lap.
  There they thir fill of Love and Loves disport
  Took largely, of thir mutual guilt the Seale,
  The solace of thir sin, till dewie sleep
  Oppress'd them, wearied with thir amorous play.
  Soon as the force of that fallacious Fruit,
  That with exhilerating vapour bland
  About thir spirits had plaid, and inmost powers
  Made erre, was now exhal'd, and grosser sleep
  Bred of unkindly fumes, with conscious dreams
  Encumberd, now had left them, up they rose
  As from unrest, and each the other viewing,
  Soon found thir Eyes how op'nd, and thir minds
  How dark'nd; innocence, that as a veile
  Had shadow'd them from knowing ill, was gon,
  Just confidence, and native righteousness,
  And honour from about them, naked left
  To guiltie shame hee cover'd, but his Robe
  Uncover'd more. So rose the Danite strong
  Herculean Samson from the Harlot-lap
  Of Philistean Dalilah, and wak'd
  Shorn of his strength, They destitute and bare
  Of all thir vertue: silent, and in face
  Confounded long they sate, as struck'n mute,
  Till Adam, though not less then Eve abasht,
  At length gave utterance to these words constraind.
    O Eve, in evil hour thou didst give eare
  To that false Worm, of whomsoever taught
  To counterfet Mans voice, true in our Fall,
  False in our promis'd Rising; since our Eyes
  Op'nd 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 Puritie,
  Our wonted Ornaments now soild and staind,
  And in our Faces evident the signes
  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, earst with joy
  And rapture so oft beheld? those heav'nly shapes
  Will dazle now this earthly, with thir blaze
  Insufferably bright. O might I here
  In solitude live, savage, in some glade
  Obscur'd, where highest Woods impenetrable
  To Starr or Sun-light, spread thir 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 sowd,
  And girded on our loyns, may cover round
  Those midde parts, that this new commer, Shame,
  There sit not and reproach us as unclean.
    So counsel'd hee, and both together went
  Into the thickest Wood, there soon they chose
  The Figtree, not that kind for Fruit renown'd,
  But such as at this day to Indians known
  In Malabar or Decan spreds her Armes
  Braunching so broad and long, that in the ground
  The bended Twigs take root, and Daughters grow
  About the Mother Tree, a Pillard shade
  High overarch't, and echoing Walks between;
  There oft the Indian Herdsman shunning heate
  Shelters in coole, and tends his pasturing Herds
  At Loopholes cut through thickest shade: Those Leaves
  They gatherd, broad as Amazonian Targe,
  And with what skill they had, together sowd,
  To gird thir waste, vain Covering if to hide
  Thir guilt and dreaded shame; O how unlike
  To that first naked Glorie. Such of late
  Columbus found th' American so girt
  With featherd Cincture, naked else and wilde
  Among the Trees on Iles and woodie Shores.
  Thus fenc't, and as they thought, thir shame in part
  Coverd, but not at rest or ease of Mind,
  They sate them down to weep, nor onely Teares
  Raind at thir Eyes, but high Winds worse within
  Began to rise, high Passions, Anger, Hate,
  Mistrust, Suspicion, Discord, and shook sore
  Thir inward State of Mind, calme Region once
  And full of Peace, now tost and turbulent:
  For Understanding rul'd not, and the Will
  Heard not her lore, both in subjection now
  To sensual Appetite, who from beneathe
  Usurping over sovran Reason claimd
  Superior sway: From thus distemperd brest,
  Adam, estrang'd in look and alterd stile,
  Speech intermitted thus to Eve renewd.
    Would thou hadst heark'nd to my words, & stai'd
  With me, as I besought thee, when that strange
  Desire of wandring this unhappie Morn,
  I know not whence possessd thee; we had then
  Remaind still happie, not as now, despoild
  Of all our good, sham'd, 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 faile.
    To whom soon mov'd with touch of blame thus Eve.
  What words have past thy Lips, Adam severe,
  Imput'st thou that to my default, or will
  Of wandering, as thou call'st it, which who knows
  But might as ill have happ'nd thou being by,
  Or to thy self perhaps: hadst thou bin there,
  Or here th' attempt, thou could'st not have discernd
  Fraud in the Serpent, speaking as he spake;
  No ground of enmitie between us known,
  Why hee should mean me ill, or seek to harme.
  Was I to have never parted from thy side?
  As good have grown there still a liveless 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 facil then thou didst not much gainsay,
  Nay, didst permit, approve, and fair dismiss.
  Hadst thou bin firm and fixt in thy dissent,
  Neither had I transgress'd, nor thou with mee.
    To whom then first incenst Adam repli'd.
  Is this the Love, is this the recompence
  Of mine to thee, ingrateful Eve, exprest
  Immutable when thou wert lost, not I,
  Who might have liv'd and joyd 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 warn'd thee, I admonish'd thee, foretold
  The danger, and the lurking Enemie
  That had in wait; beyond this had bin force,
  And force upon free Will hath here no place.
  But confidence then bore thee on, secure
  Either to meet no danger, or to finde
  Matter of glorious trial; and perhaps
  I also err'd in overmuch admiring
  What seemd in thee so perfet, that I thought
  No evil durst attempt thee, but I rue
  That errour now, which is become my crime,
  And thou th' accuser. Thus it shall befall
  Him who to worth in Women overtrusting
  Lets her Will rule; restraint she will not brook,
  And left to her self, if evil thence ensue,
  Shee first his weak indulgence will accuse.
    Thus they in mutual accusation spent
  The fruitless hours, but neither self-condemning,
  And of thir vain contest appeer'd no end.