He trusted to have equal’d the most High,
   If he oppos’d; and with ambitious aim
   Against the Throne and Monarchy of God
   Rais’d impious War in Heav’n and Battel proud
   With vain attempt. Him the Almighty Power
   45
   Hurld headlong flaming from th’ Ethereal Skie
   With hideous ruin and combustion down
   To bottomless perdition, there to dwell
   In Adamantine Chains and penal Fire,
   Who durst defie th’ Omnipotent to Arms.
   50
   Nine times the Space that measures Day and Night16
   To mortal men, he with his horrid crew
   Lay vanquisht, rowling in the fiery Gulf
   Confounded though immortal: But his doom
   Reserv’d him to more wrath; for now the thought
   55
   Both of lost happiness and lasting pain
   Torments him; round he throws his baleful eyes
   That witness’d huge affliction and dismay
   Mixt with obdurate pride and stedfast hate:
   At once as far as Angels kenn17 he views
   60
   The dismal Situation waste and wild,
   A Dungeon horrible, on all sides round
   As one great Furnace flam’d, yet from those flames
   No light, but rather darkness visible
   Serv’d only to discover sights of woe,
   65
   Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace
   And rest can never dwell, hope never comes
   That comes to all; but torture without end
   Still urges, and a fiery Deluge, fed
   With ever-burning Sulphur unconsum’d:
   70
   Such place Eternal Justice had prepar’d
   For those rebellious, here thir Prison ordain’d
   In utter darkness, and thir portion set
   As far remov’d from God and light of Heav’n
   As from the Center thrice to th’ utmost Pole.18
   75
   O how unlike the place from whence they fell!
   There the companions of his fall, o’rewhelm’d
   With Floods and Whirlwinds of tempestuous fire,
   He soon discerns, and weltring by his side
   One next himself in power, and next in crime,
   80
   Long after known in Palestine, and nam’d
   Beëlzebub. To whom th’ Arch-Enemy,
   And thence in Heav’n call’d Satan,19 with bold words
   Breaking the horrid silence thus began.
   If thou beest he; but O how fall’n! how chang’d20
   85
   From him, who in the happy Realms of Light
   Cloth’d with transcendent brightness didst outshine
   Myriads though bright: If he whom mutual league,
   United thoughts and counsels, equal hope
   And hazard in the Glorious Enterprize,
   90
   Joynd with me once, now misery hath joynd
   In equal ruin: into what Pit thou seest
   From what highth fall’n, so much the stronger prov’d
   He with his Thunder: and till then who knew
   The force of those dire Arms? yet not for those,
   95
   Nor what the Potent Victor in his rage
   Can else inflict, do I repent or change,
   Though chang’d in outward lustre; that fixt mind
   And high disdain, from sence of injur’d merit,
   That with the mightiest rais’d me to contend,
   100
   And to the fierce contention brought along
   Innumerable force to Spirits arm’d
   That durst dislike his reign, and me preferring,
   His utmost power with adverse power oppos’d
   In dubious21 Battel on the Plains of Heav’n,
   105
   And shook his throne. What though the field be lost?
   All is not lost; th’ unconquerable Will,
   And study of revenge, immortal hate,
   And courage never to submit or yield:
   And what is else not to be overcome?
   110
   That Glory never shall his wrath or might
   Extort22 from me. To bow and sue for grace
   With suppliant knee, and deifie his power,
   Who from the terrour of this Arm so late
   Doubted23 his Empire, that were low indeed,
   115
   That were an ignominy and shame beneath
   This downfall; since by Fate the strength of Gods
   And this Empyreal substance cannot fail,
   Since through experience of this great event
   In Arms not worse, in foresight much advanc’t,
   120
   We may with more successful hope resolve
   To wage by force or guile eternal Warr
   Irreconcileable, to our grand Foe,
   Who now triumphs, and in th’ excess of joy
   Sole reigning holds the Tyranny of Heav’n.
   125
   So spake th’ Apostate Angel, though in pain,
   Vaunting aloud, but wrackt with deep despair:
   And him thus answer’d soon his bold Compeer.
   O Prince, O Chief of many Throned Powers,24
   That led th’ imbattell’d Seraphim to Warr
   130
   Under thy conduct, and in dreadful deeds
   Fearless, endanger’d Heav’ns perpetual King;
   And put to proof his high Supremacy,
   Whether upheld by strength, or Chance, or Fate,
   Too well I see and rue the dire event,
   135
   That with sad overthrow and foul defeat
   Hath lost us Heav’n, and all this mighty Host
   In horrible destruction laid thus low,
   As far as Gods and Heav’nly Essences
   Can perish: for the mind and spirit remains
   140
   Invincible, and vigour soon returns,
   Though all our Glory extinct, and happy state
   Here swallow’d up in endless misery.
   But what if he our Conquerour (whom I now
   Of force believe Almighty, since no less
   145
   Then such could have orepow’rd such force as ours),
   Have left us this our spirit and strength intire
   Strongly to suffer and support our pains,
   That we may so suffice his vengeful ire,
   Or do him mightier service as his thralls
   150
   By right of Warr, what e’re his business be
   Here in the heart of Hell to work in Fire,
   Or do his Errands in the gloomy Deep;
   What can it then avail though yet we feel
   Strength undiminisht, or eternal being
   155
   To undergo eternal punishment?
   Whereto with speedy words th’ Arch-fiend reply’d.
   Fall’n Cherub, to be weak is miserable
   Doing or Suffering: but of this be sure,
   To do aught good never will be our task,
   160
   But ever to do ill our sole delight,
   As being the contrary to his high will
   Whom we resist. If then his Providence
   Out of our evil seek to bring forth good,
   Our labour must be to pervert that end,
   165
   And out of good still to find means of evil;
   Which oft times may succeed, so as perhaps
   Shall grieve him, if I fail not, and disturb
   His inmost counsels from thir destind aim.
   But see the angry Victor hath recall’d
   170
   His Ministers of vengeance and pursuit
   Back to the Gates of Heav’n: the Sulphurous Hail
   Shot after us in storm, oreblown hath laid
   The fiery Surge, that from the Precipice
   Of Heav’n receiv’d us  
					     					 			falling, and the Thunder,
   175
   Wing’d with red Lightning and impetuous rage,
   Perhaps hath spent his shafts, and ceases now
   To bellow through the vast and boundless Deep.
   Let us not slip th’ occasion, whether scorn,
   Or satiate fury yield it from our Foe.
   180
   Seest thou yon dreary Plain, forlorn and wild,
   The seat of desolation, voyd of light,
   Save what the glimmering of these livid flames
   Casts pale and dreadful? Thither let us tend
   From off the tossing of these fiery waves,
   185
   There rest, if any rest can harbour there,
   And reassembling our afflicted25 Powers,
   Consult how we may henceforth most offend
   Our Enemy, our own loss how repair,
   How overcome this dire Calamity,
   190
   What reinforcement we may gain from Hope,
   If not what resolution from despair.
   Thus Satan talking to his neerest Mate
   With Head up-lift above the wave, and Eyes
   That sparkling blaz’d, his other Parts besides
   195
   Prone on the Flood, extended long and large
   Lay floating many a rood, in bulk as huge
   As whom the Fables name of monstrous size,
   Titanian,26 or Earth-born, that warr’d on Jove,
   Briareos or Typhon, whom the Den
   200
   By ancient Tarsus held, or that Sea-beast
   Leviathan,27 which God of all his works
   Created hugest that swim th’ Ocean stream:
   Him haply slumbring on the Norway foam
   The Pilot of some small night-founder’d Skiff,
   205
   Deeming some Island, oft, as Sea-men tell,
   With fixed Anchor in his skaly rind
   Moors by his side under the Lee, while Night
   Invests the Sea, and wished Morn delayes:
   So stretcht out huge in length the Arch-fiend lay
   210
   Chain’d on the burning Lake, nor ever thence
   Had ris’n or heav’d his head, but that the will
   And high permission of all-ruling Heav’n
   Left him at large to his own dark designs,
   That with reiterated crimes he might
   215
   Heap on himself damnation, while he sought
   Evil to others, and enrag’d might see
   How all his malice serv’d but to bring forth
   Infinite goodness, grace and mercy shewn
   On Man by him seduc’t, but on himself
   220
   Treble confusion, wrath and vengeance28 pour’d.
   Forthwith upright he rears from off the Pool
   His mighty Stature; on each hand the flames
   Drivn backward slope thir pointing spires, and rowl’d
   In billows, leave i’ th’ midst a horrid Vale.
   225
   Then with expanded wings he stears his flight
   Aloft, incumbent on the dusky Air
   That felt unusual weight, till on dry Land
   He lights, if it were Land that ever burn’d
   With solid, as the Lake with liquid fire;
   230
   And such appear’d in hue,29 as when the force
   Of subterranean wind transports a Hill
   Torn from Pelorus,30 or the shatter’d side
   Of thundring Ætna, whose combustible
   And fewel’d entrails thence conceiving Fire,
   235
   Sublim’d31 with Mineral fury, aid the Winds,
   And leave a singed bottom all involv’d
   With stench and smoak: Such resting found the sole
   Of unblest feet. Him followed his next Mate,
   Both glorying to have scap’t the Stygian flood
   240
   As Gods, and by thir own recover’d strength,
   Not by the sufferance of supernal Power.
   Is this the Region, this the Soil, the Clime,
   Said then the lost Arch-Angel, this the seat
   That we must change for Heav’n, this mournful gloom
   245
   For that celestial light? Be it so, since he
   Who now is Sovran can dispose and bid
   What shall be right: fardest from him is best
   Whom reason hath equald, force hath made supream
   Above his equals. Farewel happy Fields
   250
   Where Joy for ever dwells: Hail horrours, hail
   Infernal world, and thou profoundest Hell
   Receive thy new Possessor: One who brings
   A mind not to be chang’d by Place or Time.
   The mind is its own place, and in it self
   255
   Can make a Heav’n of Hell, a Hell of Heav’n.
   What matter where, if I be still the same,
   And what I should be, all but less than he
   Whom Thunder hath made greater? Here at least
   We shall be free; th’ Almighty hath not built
   260
   Here for his envy, will not drive us hence:
   Here we may reign secure, and in my choyce
   To reign is worth ambition though in Hell:
   Better to reign in Hell, then serve in Heav’n.
   But wherefore let we then our faithful friends,
   265
   Th’ associates and copartners of our loss
   Lye thus astonisht on th’ oblivious Pool,32
   And call them not to share with us their part
   In this unhappy Mansion, or once more
   With rallied Arms to try what may be yet
   270
   Regaind in Heav’n, or what more lost in Hell?
   So Satan spake, and him Beëlzebub
   Thus answer’d. Leader of those Armies bright,
   Which but th’ Omnipotent none could have foyl’d,
   If once they hear that voyce, thir liveliest pledge
   275
   Of hope in fears and dangers, heard so oft
   In worst extreams, and on the perilous edge
   Of battel when it rag’d, in all assaults
   Thir surest signal, they will soon resume
   New courage and revive, though now they lye
   280
   Groveling and prostrate on yon Lake of Fire,
   As we erewhile, astounded and amaz’d,
   No wonder, fall’n such a pernicious highth.
   He scarce had ceas’t when the superiour Fiend
   Was moving toward the shoar; his ponderous shield
   285
   Ethereal temper, massy, large and round,
   Behind him cast; the broad circumference
   Hung on his shoulders like the Moon, whose Orb
   Through Optic Glass the Tuscan Artist33 views
   At Ev’ning from the top of Fesole,
   290
   Or in Valdarno, to descry new Lands,
   Rivers or Mountains in her spotty Globe.
   His Spear, to equal which the tallest Pine
   Hewn on Norwegian hills, to be the Mast
   Of some great Ammiral,34 were but a wand,
   295
   He walkt with to support uneasie steps
   Over the burning Marl, not like those steps
   On Heavens Azure, and the torrid Clime
   Smote on him sore besides, vaulted with Fire;
   Nathless he so endur’d, till on the Beach
   300
   Of that inflamed Sea, he stood and call’d
   His Legions, Angel Forms, who lay intrans’t
   Thick as Autumnal Leaves that strow the Brooks
   In Vallombrosa,35 where th’ Etrurian shades
   High overarch’t imbowr; or scatterd sedge
   305
   Afloat, when with fierce Winds Orion36 arm’d
   Hath vext the Red-Sea Coast, whose waves orethrew
   Busiris and his Memp 
					     					 			hian Chivalry,
   While with perfidious hatred they pursu’d
   The Sojourners of Goshen, who beheld
   310
   From the safe shore thir floating Carkases
   And broken Chariot Wheels, so thick bestrown
   Abject and lost lay these, covering the Flood,
   Under amazement of thir hideous change.
   He call’d so loud, that all the hollow Deep
   315
   Of Hell resounded. Princes, Potentates,
   Warriers, the Flowr of Heav’n, once yours, now lost,
   If such astonishment as this can sieze
   Eternal spirits; or have ye chos’n this place
   After the toyl of Battel to repose
   320
   Your wearied vertue, for the ease you find
   To slumber here, as in the Vales of Heav’n?
   Or in this abject posture have ye sworn
   T’ adore the Conquerour? who now beholds
   Cherub and Seraph rowling in the Flood
   325
   With scatter’d Arms and Ensigns, till anon
   His swift pursuers from Heav’n Gates discern
   Th’ advantage, and descending tread us down
   Thus drooping, or with linked Thunderbolts
   Transfix us to the bottom of this Gulf.
   330
   Awake, arise, or be for ever fall’n.
   They heard, and were abasht, and up they sprung
   Upon the wing, as when men wont to watch
   On duty, sleeping found by whom they dread,
   Rouse and bestir themselves ere well awake.
   335
   Nor did they not perceave the evil plight
   In which they were, or the fierce pains not feel;
   Yet to thir Generals Voyce they soon obeyd
   Innumerable. As when the potent Rod
   Of Amrams Son37 in Egypts evill day
   340
   Wav’d round the Coast, up call’d a pitchy cloud
   Of Locusts, warping38 on the Eastern Wind,
   That ore the Realm of impious Pharaoh hung
   Like Night, and darken’d all the Land of Nile:
   So numberless were those bad Angels seen