not) another World, the happy seat
Of som new Race call’d Man, about this time
To be created like to us, though less
In power and excellence, but favour’d more
Of him who rules above; so was his will
Pronounc’d among the Gods, and by an Oath,
That shook Heav’ns whol circumference, confirm’d.
Thither let us bend all our thoughts, to learn
What creatures there inhabit, of what mould,
Or substance, how endu’d, and what thir Power,
And where thir weakness, how attempted best,
By force or suttlety: Though Heav’n be shut,
And Heav’ns high Arbitrator sit secure
In his own strength, this place may lye expos’d
The utmost border of his Kingdom, left
To their defence who hold it: here perhaps
Som advantagious act may be achiev’d
By sudden onset, either Hell fire
To waste his whole Creation, or posses
All as our own, and drive as we were driven,
The punie habitants, or if not drive,
Seduce them to our Party, that thir God
May prove thir foe, and with repenting hand
Abolish his own works. This would surpass
Common revenge, and interrupt his joy
In our Confusion, and our Joy upraise
In his disturbance; when his darling Sons
Hurl’d headlong to partake with us, shall curse
Thir frail Originals, and and faded bliss,
Faded so soon. Advise if this be worth
Attempting, or to sit in darkness here
Hatching or Empires. Thus Beelzebub
Pleaded his devilish Counsel, first devis’d
By Satan, and in part propos’d: for whence,
But from the Author of all ill could Spring
So deep a malice, to confound the race
Of mankind in one root, and Earth with Hell
To mingle and involve, done all to spite
The great Creatour? But thir spite still serves
His glory to augment. The bold design
Pleas’d highly those infernal States, and joy
Sparkl’d in all thir eyes; with full assent
They vote: whereat his speech he thus renews.
Well have ye judg’d, well ended long debate,
Synod of Gods, and like to what ye are,
Great things resolv’d; which from the lowest deep
Will once more lift us up, in spight of Fate,
Neerer our ancient Seat; perhaps in view
Of those bright confines, whence with neighbouring Arms
And opportune excursion we may chance
Re-enter Heav’n; or else in some milde Zone
Dwell not unvisited of Heav’ns fair Light
Secure, and at the brightning Orient beam
Purge off this gloom; the soft delicious Air,
To heal the scarr of these corrosive Fires
Shall breath her balme. But first whom shall we send
In search of this new world, whom shall we find
Sufficient? who shall tempt with wandring feet
The dark unbottom’d infinite Abyss
And through the palpable obscure find out
His uncouth way, or spread his aerie flight
Upborn with indefatigable wings
Over the vast abrupt, ere he arrive
The happy Ile; what strength, what art can then
Suffice, or what evasion bear him safe
Through the strict Senteries and Stations thick
Of Angels watching round? Here he had need
All circumspection, and wee now no less
Choice in our suffrage; for on whom we send,
The weight of all and our last hope relies.
This said, he sat; and expectation held
His look suspence, awaiting who appeer’d
To second, or oppose, or undertake
The perilous attempt; but all sat mute,
Pondering the danger with deep thoughts; and each
In others count’nance red his own dismay
Astonisht: none among the choice and prime
Of those Heav’n-warring Champions could be found
So hardie as to proffer or accept
Alone the dreadful voyage; till at last
Satan, whom now transcendent glory rais’d
Above his fellows, with Monarchal pride
Conscious of highest worth, unmov’d thus spake.
O Progeny of Heav’n, Empyreal Thrones,
With reason hath deep silence and demur
Seis’d us, though undismaid: long is the way
And hard, that out of Hell leads up to Light;
Our prison
