Paradise Lost + Paradise Regained (2 Unabridged Classics + Original Illustrations by Gustave Doré). Джон Мильтон

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Paradise Lost + Paradise Regained (2 Unabridged Classics + Original  Illustrations by Gustave Doré) - Джон Мильтон

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confus’d march forlorn, th’ adventrous Bands

      With shuddring horror pale, and eyes agast

      View’d first thir lamentable lot, and found

      No rest: through many a dark and drearie Vaile

      They pass’d, and many a Region dolorous,

      O’re many a Frozen, many a Fierie Alpe,

      Rocks, Caves, Lakes, Fens, Bogs, Dens, and shades of death,

      A Universe of death, which God by curse

      Created evil, for evil only good,

      Where all life dies, death lives, and nature breeds,

      Perverse, all monstrous, all prodigious things,

      Abominable, inutterable, and worse

      Then Fables yet have feign’d, or fear conceiv’d,

      Gorgons and Hydra’s, and Chimera’s dire.

      plate07 Gorgons and Hydra’s, and Chimera’s dire.

      plate08 Before the Gates there sat On either side a formidable shape;

      Mean while the Adversary of God and Man,

      Satan with thoughts inflam’d of highest design,

      Puts on swift wings, and toward the Gates of Hell

      Explores his solitary flight; som times

      He scours the right hand coast, som times the left,

      Now shaves with level wing the Deep, then soares

      Up to the fiery concave touring high.

      As when farr off at Sea a Fleet descri’d

      Hangs in the Clouds, by AEquinoctial Winds

      Close sailing from Bengala, or the Iles

      Of Ternate and Tidore, whence Merchants bring

      Thir spicie Drugs: they on the trading Flood

      Through the wide Ethiopian to the Cape

      Ply stemming nightly toward the Pole. So seem’d

      Farr off the flying Fiend: at last appeer

      Hell bounds high reaching to the horrid Roof,

      And thrice threefold the Gates; three folds were Brass,

      Three Iron, three of Adamantine Rock,

      Impenitrable, impal’d with circling fire,

      Yet unconsum’d. Before the Gates there sat

      On either side a formidable shape;

      The one seem’d Woman to the waste, and fair,

      But ended foul in many a scaly fould

      Voluminous and vast, a Serpent arm’d

      With mortal sting: about her middle round

      A cry of Hell Hounds never ceasing bark’d

      With wide Cerberean mouths full loud, and rung

      A hideous Peal: yet, when they list, would creep,

      If aught disturb’d thir noyse, into her woomb,

      And kennel there, yet there still bark’d and howl’d

      Within unseen. Farr less abhorrd then these

      Vex’d Scylla bathing in the Sea that

      Calabria from the hoarce Trinacrian shore:

      Nor uglier follow the Night-Hag, when call’d

      In secret, riding through the Air she comes

      Lur’d with the smell of infant blood, to dance

      With Lapland Witches, while the labouring Moon

      Eclipses at thir charms. The other shape,

      If shape it might be call’d that shape had none

      Distinguishable in member, joynt, or limb,

      Or substance might be call’d that shadow seem’d,

      For each seem’d either; black it stood as Night,

      Fierce as ten Furies, terrible as Hell,

      And shook a dreadful Dart; what seem’d his head

      The likeness of a Kingly Crown had on.

      Satan was now at hand, and from his seat

      The Monster moving onward came as fast,

      With horrid strides, 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 naught vallu’d he nor shun’d

      And with disdainful look thus first began.

      Whence and what art thou, execrable shape,

      That dar’st, though grim and terrible, advance

      Thy miscreated Front athwart my way

      To yonder Gates? through them I mean to pass,

      That be assured, without leave askt of thee:

      Retire, or taste thy folly, and learn by proof,

      Hell-born, not to contend with of Heav’n.

      To whom the Goblin full of wrauth reply’d,

      Art thou that Traitor Angel, art thou hee,

      Who first broke peace in Heav’n and Faith, till then

      Unbrok’n, and in proud rebellious Arms

      Drew after him the third part of Heav’ns Sons

      Conjur’d against the highest, for which both Thou

      And they outcast from God, are here condemn’d

      To waste Eternal daies in woe and pain?

      And

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