In emulation opposite to Heav’n. Which when Beelzebub perceiv’d, then whom, Satan except, none higher sat, with grave Aspect he rose, and in his rising seem’d A Pillar of State; deep on his Front engraven Deliberation sat and publick care; And Princely counsel in his face yet shon, Majestick though in ruin: sage he stood With Atlantean shoulders fit to bear The weight of mightiest Monarchies; his look Drew audience and attention still as Night Or Summers Noon-tide air, while thus he spake.
Thrones and imperial Powers, off-spring of heav’n,
Ethereal Vertues; or these Titles now
Must we renounce, and changing stile be call’d
Princes of Hell? for so the popular vote
Inclines, here to continue, and build up here
A growing Empire; doubtless; while we dream,
And know not that the King of Heav’n hath doom’d
This place our dungeon, not our safe retreat
Beyond his Potent arm, to live exempt
From Heav’ns high jurisdiction, in new League
Banded against his Throne, but to remaine
In strictest bondage, though thus far remov’d,
Under th’ inevitable curb, reserv’d
His captive multitude: For he, be sure,
In highth or depth, still first and last will Reign
Sole King, and of his Kingdom loose no part
By our revolt, but over Hell extend
His Empire, and with Iron Scepter rule
Us here, as with his Golden those in Heav’n.
What sit we then projecting Peace and Warr?
Warr hath determin’d us, and foild with loss
Irreparable; tearms of peace yet none
Voutsaf’t or sought; for what peace will be giv’n
To us enslav’d, but custody severe,
And stripes, and arbitrary punishment
Inflicted? and what peace can we return,
But to our power hostility and hate,
Untam’d reluctance, and revenge though slow,
Yet ever plotting how the Conquerour least
May reap his conquest, and may least rejoyce
In doing what we most in suffering feel?
Nor will occasion want, nor shall we need
With dangerous expedition to invade
Heav’n, whose high walls fear no assault or Siege,
Or ambush from the Deep. What if we find
Some easier enterprize? There is a place
(If ancient and prophetic fame in Heav’n
Err 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 with Hell fire To waste his whole Creation, or possess 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 faded bliss, Faded so soon. Advise if this be worth Attempting, or to sit in darkness here Hatching vain 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 we 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
