And thou fly hypocrite, who now wouldst feem
Patron of liberty, who more than thou

Once fawn'd, and cring'd: and fervilly ador'd'
Heav'n's awful monarch? wherefore but in hope
To difpoffefs him, and thyself to reigne?
But mark what I arreede thee now, avaunt;
Flie thither whence thou fledft: if from this houre
Within these hallow'd limits thou appeer,
Back to th'infernal pit I drag thee chain'd,
And feale thee fo, as henceforth not to scorne
The facil gates of hell too flightly barr'd.
So threatn'd he, but Satan to no threats
Gave heed, but waxing more in rage repli'd.
Then when I am thy captive talk of chains,
Proud limitarie cherube but ere then
Far heavier load thyfelf expect to feel
From my prevailing arm, though heaven's king
Ride on thy wings, and thou with thy compeers,
Us'd to the yoak, draw'ft his triumphant wheels
In progrefs through the road of heav'n star-pav'd.
While thus he fpake, th'angelic squadron bright
Turn'd fierie red, fharpning in mooned hornes
Their phalanx, and began to hemm him round
With ported spears, as thick as when a field
Of Ceres ripe for harvest waving bends
Her bearded grove of ears, which way the wind
Sways them; the careful plowman doubting stands
Left on the threshing floore his hopeful shaves
Prove chaff. On th'other fide Satan alarm'd
Collecting all his might dilated stood,
Like Teneriff or Atlas unremov'd :

His ftature reacht the fkie, and on his creft

Sat horror plum'd; nor wanted in his grafpe
What feem'd both spear and shield: now dreadful deeds
Might have enfu'd, nor onely Paradise

In this commotion, but the starrie cope
Of heav'n perhaps, or all the elements
At least had gone to rack, disturb'd and torn
With violence of this conflict, had not foon
Th'Eternal to prevent such horrid fray

Hung forth in heav'n his golden scales, yet seen
Betwixt Aftrea and the Scorpion fign,

Wherein all things created first he weigh'd,
The pendulous round earth with ballanc't aire
In counterpoife, now ponders all events,
Battles and realms: in these he put two weights,
The fequel each of parting and of fight;
The latter quick up flew, and kickt the beam;
Which Gabriel fpying, thus bespake the fiend.

Satan, I know thy strength, and thou knowst mine,
Neither our own but giv'n; what follie then
To boast what arms can do, fince thine no more
Then heav'n permits, nor mine, though doubl'd now
To trample thee as mire: for proof look up,
And read thy lot in yon celestial sign

Where thou art weigh'd, and shown how light,how weak,
If thou refift. The fiend lookt up and knew 14
His mounted scale aloft: nor more; but fled
Murmuring, and with him fled the shades of night.

The End of the Fourth Book.

N°

[OW Morn her rofie steps in th'eaftern clime Advancing, fow'd the earth with orient pearle, When Adam wak't, fo cuftom'd, for his sleep Was aerie light, from pure digestion bred, And temperat vapours bland, which th' only found Of leaves and fuming rills, Aurora's fan, Lightly difpers'd, and the shrill matin song Of birds on every bough; so much the more His wonder was to find unwak'nd Eve With treffes discompos'd, and glowing cheek, As through unquiet rest: he on his fide Leaning half rais'd, with looks of cordial love Hung over her enamour'd, and beheld Beautie, which whether waking or asleep, Shot forth peculiar graces; then with voice Milde, as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes, Her hand soft touching, whisper'd thus. Awake My faireft, my efpous'd, my latest found, Heav'n's laft heft gift, my ever new delight, Awake, the morning fhines, and the fresh field Calls us, we lose the prime, to mark how spring Our tended plants, how blows the citron grove, What drops the myrrhe, and what the balmie reed, How nature paints her colours, how the bee Sits on the bloom extracting liquid fweet.

Such whifp'ring wak'd her, but with startl'd eye On Adam, whom imbracing, thus she spake.

O fole in whom my thoughts find all repose,
My glorie, my perfection, glad I fee

Thy face, and morn return'd, for I this night,
Such night till this I never pafs'd, have dream'd,
If dream'd, not as I oft am wont, of thee,
Works of day páft, or morrow's next defign,
But of offence and trouble, which my mind.
Knew never till this irksome night; methought
Close at mine ear one call'd me forth to walk
With gentle voice, 'I thought it thine; it said,
Why fleepft thou Eve? now is the, pleasant time,
The cool, the filent, fave where filence yields
To the night-warbling bird, that now awake
Tunes sweetest his love-labor'd fong; now reignes
Full orb'd the moon, and with more pleafing light
Shadowie fets off the face of things; in vain,
If none regard; "Heav'n wakes with all his eyes,
Whom to behold but thee, nature's defire,
In whofe fight all things joy, with ravishment
Attracted by thy beauty ftill to gaze.

I rofe as at thy call, but found thee not;
To find thee I directed then my walk

And on, methought, alone I pafs'd through wayes
That brought me on a fudden to the tree
Of interdicted knowledge; fair it seem'd,
Much fairer to my fancie then by day:
And as I wondring lookt, befide it stood

One fhap'd and wing'd like one of those from heav'n

By us oft feen; his dewie locks diftill'd

Ambrofia; on that tree' he also gaz'd ;

And O fair plant, faid he, with fruit furcharg'd,

F

Deigns none to ease thy load and tafte thy fweet,
Nor God, nor man; is knowledge fo defpis'd?

Or envie, or what reserve forbids to tafte?

Forbid who will, none fhall from me withhold
Longer thy offer'd good, why else set here?
This faid he paus'd not, but with ventrous arm
He pluckt, he tafted; mee damp horror chill'd
At fuch bold words voucht with a deed fo bold:
But he thus overjoy'd, o fruit divine,

Sweet of thyfelf but much more sweet thus cropt,
Forbidd'n here, it seems, as onely fit

For Gods, yet able to make Gods of men:
And why not Gods of men, fince good, the more
Communicated, more abundunt growes,

The author not impair'd, but honour'd more?
Here, happie creature, fair angelic Eve,
Partake thou also; happie though thou art,
Happier thou mayst be, worthier canst not be:
Taste this, and be henceforth among the gods
Thyself a goddess, not to earth confin'd,

But fometimes in the air, as we, fometimes
Afcend to heav'n, by merit thine, and fee
What life the gods live there, and fuch live thou.
So faying, he drew nigh, and to me held,
Even to my mouth of that same fruit held part
Which he had pluckt; the pleasant favourie smell
So quick'n'd appetite, that I, methought,
Could not but tafte. Forthwith up to the clouds
With him I flew, and underneath beheld
The earth outstretcht immense, a profpect wide
And various; wondring at my flight and change