John Milton

Paradise Regain'd: Book I

I who e’re while the happy Garden sung,
By one mans disobedience lost, now sing
Recover’d Paradise to all mankind,
By one mans firm obedience fully tri’d
Through all temptation, and the Tempter foil’d
In all his wiles, defeated and repuls’t,
And Eden rais’d in the wast Wilderness.
  Thou Spirit who ledst this glorious Eremite
Into the Desert, his Victorious Field
Against the Spiritual Foe, and broughtst him thence
By proof the undoubted Son of God, inspire,
As thou art wont, my prompted Song else mute,
And bear through highth or depth of natures bounds
With prosperous wing full summ’d to tell of deeds
Above Heroic, though in secret done,
And unrecorded left through many an Age,
Worthy t’have not remain’d so long unsung.
  Now had the great Proclaimer with a voice
More awful then the sound of Trumpet, cri’d
Repentance, and Heavens Kingdom nigh at hand
To all Baptiz’d: to his great Baptism flock’d
With aw the Regions round, and with them came
From Nazareth the Son of Joseph deem’d
To the flood Jordan, came as then obscure,
Unmarkt, unknown; but him the Baptist soon
Descri’d, divinely warn’d, and witness bore
As to his worthier, and would have resign’d
To him his Heavenly Office, nor was long
His witness unconfirm’d: on him baptiz’d
Heaven open’d, and in likeness of a Dove
The Spirit descended, while the Fathers voice
From Heav’n pronounc’d him his beloved Son.
That heard the Adversary, who roving still
About the world, at that assembly fam’d
Would not be last, and with the voice divine
Nigh Thunder—struck, th’ exalted man, to whom
Such high attest was giv’n, a while survey’d
With wonder, then with envy fraught and rage
Flies to his place, nor rests, but in mid air
To Councel summons all his mighty Peers,
Within thick Clouds and dark ten—fold involv’d,
A gloomy Consistory; and them amidst
With looks agast and sad he thus bespake.
  O ancient Powers of Air and this wide world,
For much more willingly I mention Air,
This our old Conquest, then remember Hell
Our hated habitation; well ye know
How many Ages, as the years of men,
This Universe we have possest, and rul’d
In manner at our will th’ affairs of Earth,
Since Adam and his facil consort Eve
Lost Paradise deceiv’d by me, though since
With dread attending when that fatal wound
Shall be inflicted by the Seed of Eve
Upon my head, long the decrees of Heav’n
Delay, for longest time to him is short;
And now too soon for us the circling hours
This dreaded time have compast, wherein we
Must bide the stroak of that long threatn’d wound,
At least if so we can, and by the head
Broken be not intended all our power
To be infring’d, our freedom and our being.
In this fair Empire won of Earth and Air;
For this ill news I bring, the Womans seed
Destin’d to this, is late of woman born,
His birth to our just fear gave no small cause,
But his growth now to youths full flowr, displaying
All vertue, grace and wisdom to atchieve
Things highest, greatest, multiplies my fear.
Before him a great Prophet, to proclaim
His coming, is sent Harbinger, who all
Invites, and in the Consecrated stream
Pretends to wash off sin, and fit them so
Purified to receive him pure, or rather
To do him honour as their King; all come,
And he himself among them was baptiz’d,
Not thence to be more pure, but to receive
The testimony of Heaven, that who he is
Thenceforth the Nations may not doubt; I saw
The Prophet do him reverence, on him rising
Out of the water, Heav’n above the Clouds
Unfold her Crystal Dores, thence on his head
A perfect Dove descend, what e’re it meant,
And out of Heav’n the Sov’raign voice I heard,
This is my Son belov’d, in him am pleas’d.
His Mother then is mortal, but his Sire,
He who obtains the Monarchy of Heav’n,
And what will he not do to advance his Son?
His first—begot we know, and sore have felt,
When his fierce thunder drove us to the deep;
Who this is we must learn, for man he seems
In all his lineaments, though in his face
The glimpses of his Fathers glory shine.
Ye see our danger on the utmost edge
Of hazard, which admits no long debate,
But must with something sudden be oppos’d,
Not force, but well couch’t fraud, well woven snares,
E’re in the head of Nations he appear
Their King, their Leader, and Supream on Earth.
I, when no other durst, sole undertook
The dismal expedition to find out
And ruine Adam, and the exploit perform’d
Successfully; a calmer voyage now
Will waft me; and the way found prosperous once
Induces best to hope of like success.
  He ended, and his words impression left
Of much amazement to th’ infernal Crew,
Distracted and surpriz’d with deep dismay
At these sad tidings; but no time was then
For long indulgence to their fears or grief:
Unanimous they all commit the care
And management of this main enterprize
To him their great Dictator, whose attempt
At first against mankind so well had thriv’d
In Adam’s overthrow, and led thir march
From Hell’s deep—vaulted Den to dwell in light,
Regents and Potentates, and Kings, yea gods
Of many a pleasant Realm and Province wide.
So to the Coast of Jordan he directs
His easie steps; girded with snaky wiles,
Where he might likeliest find this new—declar’d,
This man of men, attested Son of God,
Temptation and all guile on him to try;
So to subvert whom he suspected rais’d
To end his Raign on Earth so long enjoy’d:
But contrary unweeting he fulfill’d
The purpos’d Counsel pre—ordain’d and fixt
Of the most High, who in full frequence bright
Of Angels, thus to Gabriel smiling spake.
  Gabriel this day by proof thou shalt behold,
Thou and all Angels conversant on Earth
With man or mens affairs, how I begin
To verifie that solemn message late,
On which I sent thee to the Virgin pure
In Galilee, that she should bear a Son
Great in Renown, and call’d the Son of God;
Then toldst her doubting how these things could be
To her a Virgin, that on her should come
The Holy Ghost, and the power of the highest
O’re—shadow her: this man born and now up—grown,
To shew him worthy of his birth divine
And high prediction, henceforth I expose
To Satan; let him tempt and now assay
His utmost subtilty, because he boasts
And vaunts of his great cunning to the throng
Of his Apostasie; he might have learnt
Less over—weening, since he fail’d in Job,
Whose constant perseverance overcame
Whate’re his cruel malice could invent.
He now shall know I can produce a man
Of female Seed, far abler to resist
All his sollicitations, and at length
All his vast force, and drive him back to Hell,
Winning by Conquest what the first man lost
By fallacy surpriz’d.   But first I mean
To exercise him in the Wilderness,
There he shall first lay down the rudiments
Of his great warfare, e’re I send him forth
To conquer Sin and Death the two grand foes,
By Humiliation and strong Sufferance:
His weakness shall o’recome Satanic strength
And all the world, and mass of sinful flesh;
That all the Angels and Ætherial Powers,
They now, and men hereafter may discern,
From what consummate vertue I have chose
This perfect Man, by merit call’d my Son,
To earn Salvation for the Sons of men.
  So spake the Eternal Father, and all Heaven
Admiring stood a space, then into Hymns
Burst forth, and in Celestial measures mov’d,
Circling the Throne and Singing, while the hand
Sung with the voice, and this the argument.
  Victory and Triumph to the Son of God
Now entring his great duel, not of arms,
But to vanquish by wisdom hellish wiles.
The Father knows the Son; therefore secure
Ventures his filial Vertue, though untri’d,
Against whate’re may tempt, whate’re seduce,
Allure, or terrifie, or undermine.
Be frustrate all ye stratagems of Hell,
And devilish machinations come to nought.
  So they in Heav’n their Odes and Vigils tun’d:
Mean while the Son of God, who yet some days
Lodg’d in Bethabara where John baptiz’d,
Musing and much revolving in his brest,
How best the mighty work he might begin
Of Saviour to mankind, and which way first
Publish his God—like office now mature,
One day forth walk’d alone, the Spirit leading;
And his deep thoughts, the better to converse
With solitude, till far from track of men,
Thought following thought, and step by step led on,
He entred now the bordering Desert wild,
And with dark shades and rocks environ’d round,
His holy Meditations thus persu’d.
  O what a multitude of thoughts at once
Awakn’d in me swarm, while I consider
What from within I feel my self, and hear
What from without comes often to my ears,
Ill sorting with my present state compar’d.
When I was yet a child, no childish play
To me was pleasing, all my mind was set
Serious to learn and know, and thence to do
What might be publick good; my self I thought
Born to that end, born to promote all truth,
All righteous things: therefore above my years,
The Law of God I read, and found it sweet,
Made it my whole delight, and in it grew
To such perfection, that e’re yet my age
Had measur’d twice six years, at our great Feast
I went into the Temple, there to hear
The Teachers of our Law, and to propose
What might improve my knowledge or their own;
And was admir’d by all, yet this not all
To which my Spirit aspir’d, victorious deeds
Flam’d in my heart, heroic acts, one while
To rescue Israel from the Roman yoke,
Then to subdue and quell o’re all the earth
Brute violence and proud Tyrannick pow’r,
Till truth were freed, and equity restor’d:
Yet held it more humane, more heavenly first
By winning words to conquer willing hearts,
And make perswasion do the work of fear;
At least to try, and teach the erring Soul
Not wilfully mis—doing, but unware
Misled; the stubborn only to destroy.
These growing thoughts my Mother soon perceiving
By words at times cast forth inly rejoyc’d,
And said to me apart, high are thy thoughts
O Son, but nourish them and let them soar
To what highth sacred vertue and true worth
Can raise them, though above example high;
By matchless Deeds express thy matchless Sire.
For know, thou art no Son of mortal man,
Though men esteem thee low of Parentage,
Thy Father is the Eternal King, who rules
All Heaven and Earth, Angels and Sons of men,
A messenger from God fore—told thy birth
Conceiv’d in me a Virgin, he fore—told
Thou shouldst be great and sit on David’s Throne,
And of thy Kingdom there should be no end.
At thy Nativity a glorious Quire
Of Angels in the fields of Bethlehem sung
To Shepherds watching at their folds by night,
And told them the Messiah now was born,
Where they might see him, and to thee they came;
Directed to the Manger where thou lais’t,
For in the Inn was left no better room:
A Star, not seen before in Heaven appearing
Guided the Wise Men thither from the East,
To honour thee with Incense, Myrrh, and Gold,
By whose bright course led on they found the place,
Affirming it thy Star new grav’n in Heaven,
By which they knew thee King of Israel born.
Just Simeon and Prophetic Anna, warn’d
By Vision, found thee in the Temple, and spake
Before the Altar and the vested Priest,
Like things of thee to all that present stood.
This having heard, strait I again revolv’d
The Law and Prophets, searching what was writ
Concerning the Messiah, to our Scribes
Known partly, and soon found of whom they spake
I am; this chiefly, that my way must lie
Through many a hard assay even to the death,
E’re I the promis’d Kingdom can attain,
Or work Redemption for mankind, whose sins
Full weight must be transferr’d upon my head.
Yet neither thus disheartn’d or dismay’d,
The time prefixt I waited, when behold
The Baptist, (of whose birth I oft had heard,
Not knew by sight) now come, who was to come
Before Messiah and his way prepare.
I as all others to his Baptism came,
Which I believ’d was from above; but he
Strait knew me, and with loudest voice proclaim’d
Me him (for it was shew’n him so from Heaven)
Me him whose Harbinger he was; and first
Refus’d on me his Baptism to confer,
As much his greater, and was hardly won;
But as I rose out of the laving stream,
Heaven open’d her eternal doors, from whence
The Spirit descended on me like a Dove,
And last the sum of all, my Father’s voice,
Audibly heard from Heav’n, pronounc’d me his,
Me his beloved Son, in whom alone
He was well pleas’d; by which I knew the time
Now full, that I no more should live obscure,
But openly begin, as best becomes
The Authority which I deriv’d from Heaven.
And now by some strong motion I am led
Into this Wilderness, to what intent
I learn not yet, perhaps I need not know;
For what concerns my knowledge God reveals.
  So spake our Morning Star then in his rise,
And looking round on every side beheld
A pathless Desert, dusk with horrid shades;
The way he came not having mark’d, return
Was difficult, by humane steps untrod;
And he still on was led, but with such thoughts
Accompanied of things past and to come
Lodg’d in his breast, as well might recommend
Such Solitude before choicest Society.
Full forty days he pass’d, whether on hill
Sometimes, anon in shady vale, each night
Under the covert of some ancient Oak,
Or Cedar, to defend him from the dew,
Or harbour’d in one Cave, is not reveal’d;
Nor tasted humane food, nor hunger felt
Till those days ended, hunger’d then at last
Among wild Beasts: they at his sight grew mild,
Nor sleeping him nor waking harm’d, his walk
The fiery Serpent fled, and noxious Worm,
The Lion and fierce Tiger glar’d aloof.
But now an aged man in Rural weeds,
Following, as seem’d, the quest of some stray Ewe,
Or wither’d sticks to gather; which might serve
Against a Winters day when winds blow keen,
To warm him wet return’d from field at Eve,
He saw approach, who first with curious eye
Perus’d him, then with words thus utt’red spake.
  Sir, what ill chance hath brought thee to this place
So far from path or road of men, who pass
In Troop or Caravan, for single none
Durst ever, who return’d, and dropt not here
His Carcass, pin’d with hunger and with droughth?
I ask the rather, and the more admire,
For that to me thou seem’st the man, whom late
Our new baptizing Prophet at the Ford
Of Jordan honour’d so, and call’d thee Son
Of God; I saw and heard, for we sometimes
Who dwell this wild, constrain’d by want, come forth
To Town or Village nigh (nighest is far)
Where ought we hear, and curious are to hear,
What happ’ns new; Fame also finds us out.
  To whom the Son of God. Who brought me hither
Will bring me hence, no other Guide I seek.
  By Miracle he may, reply’d the Swain,
What other way I see not, for we here
Live on tough roots and stubs, to thirst inur’d
More then the Camel, and to drink go far,
Men to much misery and hardship born;
But if thou be the Son of God, Command
That out of these hard stones be made thee bread;
So shalt thou save thy self and us relieve
With Food, whereof we wretched seldom taste.
  He ended, and the Son of God reply’d.
Think’st thou such force in Bread? is it not written
(For I discern thee other then thou seem’st)
Man lives not by Bread only, but each Word
Proceeding from the mouth of God; who fed
Our Fathers here with Manna; in the Mount
Moses was forty days, nor eat nor drank,
And forty days Eliah without food
Wandred this barren waste, the same I now.
Why dost thou then suggest to me distrust,
Knowing who I am, as I know who thou art?
  Whom thus answer’d th’ Arch Fiend now undisguis’d.
'Tis true, I am that Spirit unfortunate,
Who leagu’d with millions more in rash revolt
Kept not my happy Station, but was driv’n
With them from bliss to the bottomless deep,
Yet to that hideous place not so confin’d
By rigour unconniving, but that oft
Leaving my dolorous Prison I enjoy
Large liberty to round this Globe of Earth,
Or range in th’ Air, nor from the Heav’n of Heav’ns
Hath he excluded my resort sometimes.
I came among the Sons of God, when he
Gave up into my hands Uzzean Job
To prove him, and illustrate his high worth;
And when to all his Angels he propos’d
To draw the proud King Ahab into fraud
That he might fall in Ramoth, they demuring,
I undertook that office, and the tongues
Of all his flattering Prophets glibb’d with lyes
To his destruction, as I had in charge.
For what he bids I do; though I have lost
Much lustre of my native brightness, lost
To be belov’d of God, I have not lost
To love, at least contemplate and admire
What I see excellent in good, or fair,
Or vertuous, I should so have lost all sense.
What can be then less in me then desire
To see thee and approach thee, whom I know
Declar’d the Son of God, to hear attent
Thy wisdom, and behold thy God—like deeds?
Men generally think me much a foe
To all mankind: why should I? they to me
Never did wrong or violence, by them
I lost not what I lost, rather by them
I gain’d what I have gain’d, and with them dwell
Copartner in these Regions of the World,
If not disposer; lend them oft my aid,
Oft my advice by presages and signs,
And answers, oracles, portents and dreams,
Whereby they may direct their future life.
Envy they say excites me, thus to gain
Companions of my misery and wo.
At first it may be; but long since with wo
Nearer acquainted, now I feel by proof,
That fellowship in pain divides not smart,
Nor lightens aught each mans peculiar load.
Small consolation then, were Man adjoyn’d:
This wounds me most (what can it less) that Man,
Man fall’n shall be restor’d, I never more.
  To whom our Saviour sternly thus reply’d.
Deservedly thou griev’st, compos’d of lyes
From the beginning, and in lies wilt end;
Who boast’st release from Hell, and leave to come
Into the Heav’n of Heavens; thou com’st indeed,
As a poor miserable captive thrall,
Comes to the place where he before had sat
Among the Prime in Splendour, now depos’d,
Ejected, emptyed, gaz’d, unpityed, shun’d,
A spectacle of ruin or of scorn
To all the Host of Heaven; the happy place
Imparts to thee no happiness, no joy,
Rather inflames thy torment, representing
Lost bliss, to thee no more communicable,
So never more in Hell then when in Heaven.
But thou art serviceable to Heaven’s King.
Wilt thou impute to obedience what thy fear
Extorts, or pleasure to do ill excites?
What but thy malice mov’d thee to misdeem
Of righteous Job, then cruelly to afflict him
With all inflictions, but his patience won?
The other service was thy chosen task,
To be a lyer in four hundred mouths;
For lying is thy sustenance, thy food.
Yet thou pretend’st to truth; all Oracles
By thee are giv’n, and what confest more true
Among the Nations? that hath been thy craft,
By mixing somewhat true to vent more lyes.
But what have been thy answers, what but dark
Ambiguous and with double sense deluding,
Which they who ask’d have seldom understood,
And not well understood as good not known?
Who ever by consulting at thy shrine
Return’d the wiser, or the more instruct
To flye or follow what concern’d him most,
And run not sooner to his fatal snare?
For God hath justly giv’n the Nations up
To thy Delusions; justly, since they fell
Idolatrous, but when his purpose is
Among them to declare his Providence
To thee not known, whence hast thou then thy truth,
But from him or his Angels President
In every Province, who themselves disdaining
To approach thy Temples, give thee in command
What to the smallest tittle thou shalt say
To thy Adorers; thou with trembling fear,
Or like a Fawning Parasite obey’st;
Then to thy self ascrib’st the truth fore—told.
But this thy glory shall be soon retrench’d;
No more shalt thou by oracling abuse
The Gentiles; henceforth Oracles are ceast,
And thou no more with Pomp and Sacrifice
Shalt be enquir’d at Delphos or elsewhere,
At least in vain, for they shall find thee mute.
God hath now sent his living Oracle
Into the World, to teach his final will,
And sends his Spirit of Truth henceforth to dwell
In pious Hearts, an inward Oracle
To all truth requisite for men to know.
  So spake our Saviour; but the subtle Fiend,
Though inly stung with anger and disdain,
Dissembl’d, and this Answer smooth return’d.
  Sharply thou hast insisted on rebuke,
And urg’d me hard with doings, which not will
But misery hath rested from me; where
Easily canst thou find one miserable,
And not inforc’d oft—times to part from truth;
If it may stand him more in stead to lye,
Say and unsay, feign, flatter, or abjure?
But thou art plac’t above me, thou art Lord;
From thee I can and must submiss endure
Check or reproof, and glad to scape so quit.
Hard are the ways of truth, and rough to walk,
Smooth on the tongue discourst, pleasing to th’ ear,
And tuneable as Silvan Pipe or Song;
What wonder then if I delight to hear
Her dictates from thy mouth? most men admire
Vertue, who follow not her lore: permit me
To hear thee when I come (since no man comes)
And talk at least, though I despair to attain.
Thy Father, who is holy, wise and pure,
Suffers the Hypocrite or Atheous Priest
To tread his Sacred Courts, and minister
About his Altar, handling holy things,
Praying or vowing, and vouchsaf’d his voice
To Balaam Reprobate, a Prophet yet
Inspir’d; disdain not such access to me.
  To whom our Saviour with unalter’d brow.
Thy coming hither, though I know thy scope,
I bid not or forbid; do as thou find’st
Permission from above; thou canst not more.
  He added not; and Satan bowing low
His gray dissimulation, disappear’d
Into thin Air diffus’d: for now began
Night with her sullen wing to double—shade
The Desert, Fowls in thir clay nests were couch’t;
And now wild Beasts came forth the woods to roam.
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