Paffion and apathy, and glory' and shame,
Vain wisdom all, and false philosophy :
Yet with a pleafing forcery could charm
Pain for a while or anguish, and excite
Fallacious hope, or arin th' obdured breaft
With stubborn patience as with triple steel.
Another part in fquadrons and grofs bands,
On bold adventure to discover wide
That difmal world, if any clime perhaps
Might yield them easier habitation, bend
Four ways their flying march, along the bank
Of four infernal rivers, that disgorge
Into the burning lake their baleful streams;
Abhorred Styx, the flood of deadly hate ;
Sad Acheron of forrow, black and deep;
Cocytus, nam'd of lamentation loud
Heard on the rueful ftream; fierce Phlegethon
Whofe waves of torrent fire inflame with rage
Far off from these a flow and filent ftream,
Lethe the river of oblivion rolls
Her watry labyrinth, whereof who drinks,
Forthwith his former state and be'ing forgets,
Forgets both joy and grief, pleasure and pain.
Beyond this flood a frozen continent
Lies dark and wild, beat with perpetual ftorm
Of whirlwind and dire hail, which on firm lar
Thaws not, but gathers heap, and ruin feems
Of ancient pile; or elfe deep fnow and ice,
A gulf profound as that Serbonian bog
Betwixt Damiata and Mount Cafius old,
Where armies whole have funk: the parching air
Burns frore, and cold performs th' effect of fire.
Thither by harpy-footed furies hal'd
At certain révolutions all the damn'd
Are brought; and feel by turns the bitter change
of fierce extremes, extremes by change more fierce,
From beds of raging fire to starve in ice
Their foft ethereal warmth, and there to pine
Immoveable, infix'd, and frozen round,
Periods of time, thence hurried back to fire.
They ferry over this Lethéan found
Both to and fro, their forrow to augment,
And wish and struggle, as they pass, to reach
The tempting stream, with one small drop to lose
In Tweet forgetfulness all pain and woe,
All in one moment, and fo near the brink;
But fate withstands, and to oppose th' attempt
Medufa with Gorgonian terror guards
The ford, and of itfelf the water flies
All taste of living wight, as once it fled
The lip of Tantalus. Thus roving on
In cónfus'd march forlorn, th' adventrous bands 615
With fhudd'ring horror pale, and eyes aghast,
View'd firft their lamentable lot, and found
No reft: through many a dark and dreary vale
They pafs'd, and many a region dolorous,
O'er many a frozen, many a fiery Alp,
Rocks, caves, lakes, fens, bogs, dens, and fhades of death, A universe of death, which God by curfe
Created ev'il, for evil only good,
Where all life dies, death lives, and nature breeds,
Perverse, all monftrous, all prodigious things,
Abominable, inutterable, and worse
Than fables yet have feign'd, or fear conceiv'd,
Gorgons, and Hydra's, and Chimera's dire.
Mean while the Adversary' of God and Man, Satan with thoughts inflam'd of highest design, Puts on swift wings, and tow'ards the gates of Hell Explores his folitary flight; fometimes
He fcours the right hand coaft, fometimes the left,
Now fhaves with level wing the deep, then foars
Up to the fiery concave towring high.
Through the wide Ethiopian to the Cape
Ply stemming nightly tow'ard the pole. So feem'd
Far off the flying Fiend: at last appear
Hell bounds high reaching to the horrid roof,
And thrice three-fold the gates; three folds were brafs, Three iron, three of adamantin rock,
Impenetrable, impal'd with circling fire,
Yet unconfum'd. Before the gates there fat
On either fide a formidable shape;
The one feem'd woman to the waste, and fair,
But ended foul in many a scaly fold
Voluminous and vaft, a ferpent arm'd
With mortal fting: about her middle round
A cry of Hell hounds never ceafing bark'd
With wide Cerberean mouths full loud, and rung
A hideous peal; yet, when they lift, would creep,
If ought disturb'd their noise, into her womb,
And kennel there, yet there still bark`d and howl`d,
Within unfeen. Far lefs abhorr'd than thefe
Vex'd Scylla bathing in the sea that parts
Calabria from the hoarfe Trinacrian fhere:
Nor uglier follow the night-hag, when, call'd
In fecret, riding through the air she comes,
Lur'd with the fmell of infant blood, to dance
With Lapland witches, while the lab'ring moon
Eclipfes at their charms. The other shape,
If fhape it might be call'd that shape had none
Diftinguishable in member, joint, or limb,
Or fubftance might be call'd that shadow seem'd,
For each feem'd either; black it ftood as Night, 670
Fierce as ten Furies, terrible as Hell,
And shook a dreadful dart; what feem'd his head
The likeness of a kingly crown had on:
Satan was now at hand, and from his feat
The monster moving onward came as fast
With horrid ftrides, Hell trembled as he strode.
Th' undaunted Fiend what this might be admir'd,
Admir'd, not fear'd; God and his Son except,
Created thing nought valued he nor fhunn'd;
And with difdainful look thus first began.
Whence and what art thou, execrable shape,
That dar'ft, though grim and terrible, advance
Thy mifcreated front athwart my way
To yonder gates? through them I mean to pafs,
That be affur'd, without leave ask'd of thee:
Retire, or taste thy folly', and learn by proof,
Hell-born, not to contend with Spi'rits of Heave
To whom the goblin full of wrath reply'd.
Art thou that traitor Angel, art thou He,
Who first broke peace in Heav'n and faith, till t
Unbroken, and in proud rebellious arms
Drew after him the third part of Heav'n's fons
Conjúr'd against the Hig'heft, for which both the
And they, outcaft from God, are here condemn'
To wafte eternal days in woe and pain?
And reckon'st thou thyfelf with Spirits of Heave
Hell-doom'd, and breath'ft defiance here and fco
Where I reign king, and, to enrage thee more,
Thy king and lord? Back to thy punishment,
Falfe fugitive, and to thy speed add wings,
Left with a whip of fcorpions I pursue
Thy lingring, or with one stroke of this dart
Strange horror feife thee', and pangs unfelt befor
So fpake the grifly terror, and in shape,
So fpeaking and fo threatning, grew ten-fold
More dreadful and deform: on th' other fide
Incens'd with indignation Satan stood
Unterrify'd, and like a comet burn'd,
That fires the length of Ophiuchus huge
In th' arctic fky, and from his horrid hair
Shakes peftilence and war. Each at the head
Level'd his deadly aim; their fatal hands
No fecond stroke intend, and fuch a frown
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