And my fair son here show'st me, the dear pledge Of dalliance had with thee in Heaven, and joys Then sweet, now sad to mention, through dire change. Befallen us unforeseen, unthought-of,-know,
I come no enemy, but to set free
From out this dark and dismal house of pain Both him and thee, and all the Heavenly host Of Spirits that, in our just pretences armed, Fell with us from on high. From them I go This uncouth errand sole, and one for all Myself expose, with lonely steps to tread
The unfounded Deep, and through the void immense To search, with wandering quest, a place foretold Should be and, by concurring signs, ere now Created vast and round,-a place of bliss
In the purlieus of Heaven; and therein placed A race of upstart creatures, to supply Perhaps our vacant room, though more removed, Lest Heaven, surcharged with potent multitude, Might hap to move new broils. Be this, or aught Than this more secret, now designed, I haste To know; and, this once known, shall soon return, And bring ye to the place where thou and Death Shall dwell at ease, and up and down unseen Wing silently the buxom air, embalmed
With odours. There ye shall be fed and filled Immeasurably; all things shall be your prey."
He ceased; for both seemed highly pleased, and Death Grinned horrible a ghastly smile, to hear
His famine should be filled, and blessed his maw Destined to that good hour. No less rejoiced His mother bad, and thus bespake her sire :- "The key of this infernal Pit, by due And by command of Heaven's all-powerful King, I keep, by Him forbidden to unlock
These adamantine gates; against all force Death ready stands to interpose his dart, Fearless to be o'ermatched by living might. But what owe I to His commands above, Who hates me, and hath hither thrust me down Into this gloom of Tartarus profound,
To sit in hateful office here confined,
Inhabitant of Heaven and heavenly-born- Here in perpetual agony and pain,
With terrors and with clamours compassed round Of mine own brood, that on my bowels feed?
Thou art my father, thou my author, thou My being gav'st me; whom should I obey
But thee? whom follow? Thou wilt bring me soon To that new world of light and bliss, among The gods who live at ease, where I shall reign At thy right hand voluptuous, as beseems Thy daughter and thy darling, without end." Thus saying, from her side the fatal key, Sad instrument of all our woe, she took; And, towards the gate rolling her bestial train, Forthwith the huge portcullis high up-drew, Which, but herself, not all the Stygian Powers Could once have moved; then in the key-hole turns The intricate wards, and every bolt and bar
Of massy iron or solid rock with ease Unfastens. On a sudden open fly,
With impetuous recoil and jarring sound, The infernal doors, and on their hinges grate Harsh thunder, that the lowest bottom shook Of Erebus. She opened; but to shut
Excelled her power: the gates wide open stood, That with extended wings a bannered host, Under spread ensigns marching, might pass through With horse and chariots ranked in loose array;
So wide they stood, and like a furnace-mouth
Cast forth redounding smoke and ruddy flame. Before their eyes in sudden view appear
The secrets of the hoary Deep, a dark
Illimitable ocean, without bound,
Without dimension; where length, breadth, and highth, And time, and place, are lost; where eldest Night And Chaos, ancestors of Nature, hold
Eternal anarchy, amidst the noise
Of endless wars, and by confusion stand.
For Hot, Cold, Moist, and Dry, four champions fierce, Strive here for mastery, and to battle bring
Their embryon atoms: they around the flag
Of each his faction, in their several clans, Light-armed or heavy, sharp, smooth, swift, or slow, Swarm populous, unnumbered as the sands
Of Barca or Cyrene's torrid soil,
Levied to side with warring winds, and poise
Their lighter wings. To whom these most adhere He rules a moment: Chaos umpire sits,
And by decision more embroils the fray
next him, high arbiter,
Into this wild Abyss,
By which he reigns: Chance governs all. The womb of Nature, and perhaps her grave, Of neither Sea, nor Shore, nor Air, nor Fire, But all these in their pregnant causes mixed Confusedly, and which thus must ever fight, Unless the Almighty Maker them ordain His dark materials to create more worlds— Into this wild Abyss the wary Fiend Stood on the brink of Hell and looked a while, Pondering his voyage; for no narrow frith He had to cross. Nor was his ear less pealed With noises loud and ruinous (to compare Great things with small) than when Bellona storms
With all her battering engines, bent to rase Some capital city; or less than if this frame Of heaven were falling, and these elements In mutiny had from her axle torn.
The steadfast Earth. At last his sail-broad vans
He spreads for flight, and, in the surging smoke Uplifted, spurns the ground; thence many a league, As in a cloudy chair, ascending rides
Audacious; but, that seat soon failing, meets
A vast vacuity. All unawares,
Fluttering his pennons vain, plumb-down he drops Ten thousand fathom deep, and to this hour Down had been falling, had not, by ill chance, The strong rebuff of some tumultuous cloud, Instinct with fire and nitre, hurried him.
Quenched in a boggy Syrtis, neither sea, Nor good dry land-nigh foundered, on he fares, Treading the crude consistence, half on foot, Half flying; behoves him now both oar and sail. As when a gryphon through the wilderness With winged course, o'er hill or moory dale, Pursues the Arimaspian, who by stealth Had from his wakeful custody purloined
The guarded gold; so eagerly the Fiend
O'er bog or steep, through strait, rough, dense, or rare, With head, hands, wings, or feet, pursues his way, And swims, or sinks, or wades, or creeps, or flies. At length a universal hubbub wild
Of stunning sounds, and voices all confused, Borne through the hollow dark, assaults his ear With loudest vehemence. Thither he plies Undaunted, to meet there whatever Power Or Spirit of the nethermost Abyss Might in that noise reside, of whom to ask
Which way the nearest coast of darkness lies Bordering on light; when straight behold the throne Of Chaos, and his dark pavilion spread
Wide on the wasteful Deep! With him enthroned Sat sable-vested Night, eldest of things,
The consort of his reign; and by them stood Orcus and Ades, and the dreaded name
Of Demogorgon; Rumour next, and Chance, And Tumult, and Confusion, all embroiled, And Discord with a thousand various mouths.
To whom Satan, turning boldly, thus :-" Ye Powers And Spirits of this nethermost Abyss,
Chaos and ancient Night, I come no spy With purpose to explore or to disturb
The secrets of your realm; but, by constraint Wandering this darksome desert, as my way Lies through your spacious empire up to light, Alone and without guide, half lost, I seek
What readiest path leads where your gloomy bounds Confine with Heaven; or, if some other place,
From your dominion won, the Ethereal King Possesses lately, thither to arrive
I travel this profound. Direct my course: Directed, no mean recompense it brings To your behoof, if I that region lost,
All usurpation thence expelled, reduce
To her original darkness and your sway (Which is my present journey), and once more Erect the standard there of ancient Night. Yours be the advantage all, mine the revenge!"
Thus Satan; and him thus the Anarch old, With faltering speech and visage incomposed, Answered:" I know thee, stranger, who thou art-990 That mighty leading Angel, who of late
Made head against Heaven's King, though overthrown.
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