825 But all corrupt, both mind and will depraved,

  Not to do only, but to will the same

  With me? how can they then acquitted stand

  In sight of God? Him after all disputes

  Forced I absolve: all my evasions vain

  830 And reasonings, though through mazes, lead me still

  But to my own conviction: first and last

  On me, me only, as the source and spring

  Of all corruption, all the blame lights due;

  So might the wrath. Fond wish! couldst thou support

  835 That burden heavier than the earth to bear,

  Than all the world much heavier, though divided

  With that bad woman? Thus what thou desir’st,

  And what thou fear’st, alike destroys all hope

  Of refuge, and concludes thee miserable

  840 Beyond all past example and futúre,

  To Satan only like both crime and doom.

  O conscience, into what abyss of fears

  And horrors hast thou driv’n me; out of which

  I find no way, from deep to deeper plunged!

  845 Thus Adam to himself lamented loud

  Through the still night, not now, as ere man fell,

  Wholesome and cool, and mild, but with black air

  Accompanied, with damps and dreadful gloom,

  Which to his evil conscience represented

  850 All things with double terror: on the ground

  Outstretched he lay, on the cold ground, and oft

  Cursed his creation, Death as oft accused

  Of tardy execution, since denounced

  The day of his offence. Why comes not Death,

  855 Said he, with one thrice ácceptáble stroke

  To end me? Shall Truth fail to keep her word,

  Justice divine not hasten to be just?

  But Death comes not at call, Justice divine

  Mends not her slowest pace for prayers or cries.

  860 O woods, O fountains, hillocks, dales and bow’rs,

  With other echo late I taught your shades

  To answer, and resound far other song.

  Whom thus afflicted when sad Eve beheld,

  Desolate where she sat, approaching nigh,

  865 Soft words to his fierce passion she assayed:

  But her with stern regard he thus repelled.

  Out of my sight, thou serpent, that name best

  Befits thee with him leagued, thyself as false

  And hateful; nothing wants, but that thy shape,

  870 Like his, and colour serpentine may show

  Thy inward fraud, to warn all creatures from thee

  Henceforth; lest that too Heav’nly form, pretended

  To Hellish falsehood, snare them. But for thee

  I had persisted happy, had not thy pride

  875 And wand’ring vanity, when least was safe,

  Rejected my forewarning, and disdained

  Not to be trusted, longing to be seen

  Though by the Devil himself, him overweening

  To overreach, but with the serpent meeting

  880 Fooled and beguiled; by him thou, I by thee,

  To trust thee from my side, imagined wise,

  Constant, mature, proof against all assaults,

  And understood not all was but a show

  Rather than solid virtue, all but a rib

  885 Crookèd by nature, bent, as now appears,

  More to the part siníster from me drawn,

  Well if thrown out, as supernumerary

  To my just number found. O why did God,

  Creator wise, that peopled highest Heav’n

  890 With Spirits masculine, create at last

  This novelty on earth, this fair defect

  Of nature, and not fill the world at once

  With men as angels without feminine,

  Or find some other way to generate

  895 Mankind? this mischief had not then befall’n,

  And more that shall befall, innumerable

  Disturbances on earth through female snares,

  And strait conjunction with this sex: for either

  He never shall find out fit mate, but such

  900 As some misfortune brings him, or mistake,

  Or whom he wishes most shall seldom gain

  Through her perverseness, but shall see her gained

  By a far worse, or if she love, withheld

  By parents, or his happiest choice too late

  905 Shall meet, already linked and wedlock-bound

  To a fell adversary, his hate or shame:

  Which infinite calamity shall cause

  To human life, and household peace confound.

  He added not, and from her turned, but Eve

  910 Not so repulsed, with tears that ceased not flowing,

  And tresses all disordered, at his feet

  Fell humble, and embracing them, besought

  His peace, and thus proceeded in her plaint.

  Forsake me not thus, Adam, witness Heav’n

  915 What love sincere, and reverence in my heart

  I bear thee, and unweeting have offended,

  Unhappily deceived; thy suppliant

  I beg, and clasp thy knees; bereave me not,

  Whereon I live, thy gentle looks, thy aid,

  920 Thy counsel in this uttermost distress,

  My only strength and stay: forlorn of thee,

  Whither shall I betake me, where subsist?

  While yet we live, scarce one short hour perhaps,

  Between us two let there be peace, both joining,

  925 As joined in injuries, one enmity

  Against a foe by doom express assigned us,

  That cruel serpent: on me exercise not

  Thy hatred for this misery befall’n,

  On me already lost, me than thyself

  930 More miserable; both have sinned, but thou

  Against God only, I against God and thee,

  And to the place of judgement will return,

  There with my cries importune Heaven, that all

  The sentence from thy head removed may light

  935 On me, sole cause to thee of all this woe,

  Me me only just object of his ire.

  She ended weeping, and her lowly plight,

  Immovable till peace obtained from fault

  Acknowledged and deplored, in Adam wrought

  940 Commiseration; soon his heart relented

  Towards her, his life so late and sole delight,

  Now at his feet submissive in distress,

  Creature so fair his reconcilement seeking,

  His counsel whom she had displeased, his aid;

  945 As one disarmed, his anger all he lost,

  And thus with peaceful words upraised her soon.

  Unwary, and too desirous, as before,

  So now of what thou know’st not, who desir’st

  The punishment all on thyself; alas,

  950 Bear thine own first, ill able to sustain

  His full wrath whose thou feel’st as yet least part,

  And my displeasure bear’st so ill. If prayers

  Could alter high decrees, I to that place

  Would speed before thee, and be louder heard,

  955 That on my head all might be visited,

  Thy frailty and infirmer sex forgiv’n,

  To me committed and by me exposed.

  But rise, let us no more contend, nor blame

  Each other, blamed enough elsewhere, but strive

  960 In offices of love, how we may light’n

  Each other’s burden in our share of woe;

  Since this day’s death denounced, if aught I see,

  Will prove no sudden, but a slow-paced evil,

  A long day’s dying to augment our pain,

  965 And to our seed (O hapless seed!) derived.

  To whom thus Eve, recovering heart, replied.

  Adam, by sad experiment I know
br />
  How little weight my words with thee can find,

  Found so erroneous, thence by just event

  970 Found so unfortunate; nevertheless,

  Restored by thee, vile as I am, to place

  Of new acceptance, hopeful to regain

  Thy love, the sole contentment of my heart,

  Living or dying, from thee I will not hide

  975 What thoughts in my unquiet breast are ris’n,

  Tending to some relief of our extremes,

  Or end, though sharp and sad, yet tolerable,

  As in our evils, and of easier choice.

  If care of our descent perplex us most,

  980 Which must be born to certain woe, devoured

  By Death at last, and miserable it is

  To be to others cause of misery,

  Our own begotten, and of our loins to bring

  Into this cursèd world a woeful race,

  985 That after wretched life must be at last

  Food for so foul a monster, in thy power

  It lies, yet ere conception to prevent

  The race unblest, to being yet unbegot.

  Childless thou art, childless remain:

  990 So Death shall be deceived his glut, and with us two

  Be forced to satisfy his rav’nous maw.

  But if thou judge it hard and difficult,

  Conversing, looking, loving, to abstain

  From love’s due rites, nuptial embraces sweet,

  995 And with desire to languish without hope,

  Before the present object languishing

  With like desire, which would be misery

  And torment less than none of what we dread,

  Then both ourselves and seed at once to free

  1000 From what we fear for both, let us make short,

  Let us seek Death, or he not found, supply

  With our own hands his office on ourselves;

  Why stand we longer shivering under fears,

  That show no end but death, and have the power,

  1005 Of many ways to die the shortest choosing,

  Destruction with destruction to destroy.

  She ended here, or vehement despair

  Broke off the rest; so much of death her thoughts

  Had entertained, as dyed her cheeks with pale.

  1010 But Adam with such counsel nothing swayed,

  To better hopes his more attentive mind

  Labouring had raised, and thus to Eve replied.

  Eve, thy contempt of life and pleasure seems

  To argue in thee something more sublime

  1015 And excellent than what thy mind contemns;

  But self-destruction therefore sought, refutes

  That excellence thought in thee, and implies,

  Not thy contempt, but anguish and regret

  For loss of life and pleasure overloved.

  1020 Or if thou covet death, as utmost end

  Of misery, so thinking to evade

  The penalty pronounced, doubt not but God

  Hath wiselier armed his vengeful ire than so

  To be forestalled; much more I fear lest death

  1025 So snatched will not exempt us from the pain

  We are by doom to pay; rather such acts

  Of contumácy will provoke the Highest

  To make death in us live: then let us seek

  Some safer resolution, which methinks

  1030 I have in view, calling to mind with heed

  Part of our sentence, that thy seed shall bruise

  The serpent’s head; piteous amends, unless

  Be meant, whom I conjecture, our grand Foe

  Satan, who in the serpent hath contrived

  1035 Against us this deceit: to crush his head

  Would be revenge indeed; which will be lost

  By death brought on ourselves, or childless days

  Resolved, as thou proposest; so our Foe

  Shall ’scape his punishment ordained, and we

  1040 Instead shall double ours upon our heads.

  No more be mentioned then of violence

  Against ourselves, and wilful barrenness,

  That cuts us off from hope, and savours only

  Rancour and pride, impatience and despite,

  1045 Reluctance against God and his just yoke

  Laid on our necks. Remember with what mild

  And gracious temper he both heard and judged

  Without wrath or reviling; we expected

  Immediate dissolution, which we thought

  1050 Was meant by death that day, when lo, to thee

  Pains only in child-bearing were foretold,

  And bringing forth, soon recompensed with joy,

  Fruit of thy womb: on me the curse aslope

  Glanced on the ground; with labour I must earn

  1055 My bread; what harm? Idleness had been worse;

  My labour will sustain me; and lest cold

  Or heat should injure us, his timely care

  Hath unbesought provided, and his hands

  Clothed us unworthy, pitying while he judged;

  1060 How much more, if we pray him, will his ear

  Be open, and his heart to pity incline,

  And teach us further by what means to shun

  Th’ inclement seasons, rain, ice, hail and snow,

  Which now the sky with various face begins

  1065 To show us in this mountain, while the winds

  Blow moist and keen, shattering the graceful locks

  Of these fair spreading trees; which bids us seek

  Some better shroud, some better warmth to cherish

  Our limbs benumbed, ere this diurnal star

  1070 Leave cold the night, how we his gathered beams

  Reflected, may with matter sere foment,

  Or by collision of two bodies grind

  The air attrite to fire, as late the clouds

  Justling or pushed with winds rude in their shock

  1075 Tine the slant lightning, whose thwart flame driv’n down

  Kindles the gummy bark of fir or pine,

  And sends a comfortable heat from far,

  Which might supply the sun: such fire to use,

  And what may else be remedy or cure

  1080 To evils which our own misdeeds have wrought,

  He will instruct us praying, and of grace

  Beseeching him, so as we need not fear

  To pass commodiously this life, sustained

  By him with many comforts, till we end

  1085 In dust, our final rest and native home.

  What better can we do, than to the place

  Repairing where he judged us, prostrate fall

  Before him reverent, and there confess

  Humbly our faults, and pardon beg, with tears

  1090 Watering the ground, and with our sighs the air

  Frequenting, sent from hearts contrite, in sign

  Of sorrow unfeigned, and humiliation meek.

  Undoubtedly he will relent and turn

  From his displeasure; in whose look serene,

  1095 When angry most he seemed and most severe,

  What else but favour, grace, and mercy shone?

  So spake our father penitent, nor Eve

  Felt less remorse: they forthwith to the place

  Repairing where he judged them prostrate fell

  1100 Before him reverent, and both confessed

  Humbly their faults, and pardon begged, with tears

  Watering the ground, and with their sighs the air

  Frequenting, sent from hearts contrite, in sign

  Of sorrow unfeigned, and humiliation meek.

  BOOK XI

  The Argument

  The Son of God presents to his Father the prayers of our

  first parents now repenting, and intercedes for them: God

  accepts them, but declares that they must no longer abide in

  Paradise; sends Michael with a band of Cherubim to dis
possess

  5 them; but first to reveal to Adam future things: Michael’s

  coming down. Adam shows to Eve certain ominous signs; he

  discerns Michael’s approach, goes out to meet him: the angel

  denounces their departure. Eve’s lamentation. Adam pleads,

  but submits: the angel leads him up to a high hill, sets before

  10 him in vision what shall happen till the Flood.

  Thus they in lowliest plight repentant stood

  Praying, for from the mercy-seat above

  Prevenient grace descending had removed

  The stony from their hearts, and made new flesh

  5 Regenerate grow instead, that sighs now breathed

  Unutterable, which the spirit of prayer

  Inspired, and winged for Heav’n with speedier flight

  Than loudest oratory: yet their port

  Not of mean suitors, nor important less

  10 Seemed their petition, than when th’ ancient pair

  In fables old, less ancient yet than these,

  Deucalion and chaste Pyrrha to restore

  The race of mankind drowned, before the shrine

  Of Themis stood devout. To Heav’n their prayers

  15 Flew up, nor missed the way, by envious winds

  Blown vagabond or frustrate: in they passed

  Dimensionless through Heav’nly doors; then clad

  With incense, where the golden altar fumed,

  By their great Intercessor, came in sight

  20 Before the Father’s throne: them the glad Son

  Presenting, thus to intercede began.

  See Father, what first fruits on earth are sprung

  From thy implanted grace in man, these sighs

  And prayers, which in this golden censer, mixed

  25 With incense, I thy priest before thee bring.

  Fruits of more pleasing savour from thy seed

  Sown with contrition in his heart, than those

  Which his own hand manuring all the trees

  Of Paradise could have produced, ere fall’n

  30 From innocence. Now therefore bend thine ear

  To supplication, hear his sighs though mute;

  Unskilful with what words to pray, let me

  Interpret for him, me his advocate

  And propitiation, all his works on me

  35 Good or not good ingraft; my merit those

  Shall perfect, and for these my death shall pay.

  Accept me, and in me from these receive

  The smell of peace toward mankind, let him live

  Before thee reconciled, at least his days

  40 Numbered, though sad, till death, his doom (which I

  To mitigate thus plead, not to reverse)

  To better life shall yield him, where with me

  All my redeemed may dwell in joy and bliss,

  Made one with me as I with thee am one.