As this place testifies, and this dire change Hateful to utter: but what power of mind, Foreseeing or presaging, from the depth
Of knowledge past or present, could have fear'd, How such united force of Gods, how such As stood like these, could ever know repulse ? For who can yet believe, though after loss, That all these puissant legions, whose exile Hath emptied heav'n,' shall fail to reascend Self-raised, and repossess their native seat? For me, be witness all the host of heav'n, If counsels different or danger shunn'd By me have lost our hopes: but he, who reigns Monarch in heav'n, till then as one secure Sat on his throne, upheld by old repute, Consent, or custom, and his regal state
Put forth at full, but still his strength conceal'd, Which tempted our attempt, and wrought our fall. Henceforth his might we know, and know our own, So as not either to provoke, or dread
New war, provoked; our better part remains To work in close design, by fraud or guile, What force effected not; that he no less At length from us may find, who overcomes By force, hath overcome but half his foe. Space may produce new worlds, whereof so rife There went a fame in heav'n, that he ere long Intended to create, and therein plant A generation, whom his choice regard Should favour equal to the sons of heaven: Thither, if but to pry, shall be perhaps Our first eruption, thither or elsewhere; For this infernal pit shall never hold Celestial spirits in bondage, nor th' Abyss Long under darkness cover. But these thoughts Full counsel must mature: peace is despair'd; For who can think submission ? war then, war Open or understood, must be resolved.
He spake and to confirm his words outflew Millions of flaming swords, drawn from the thighs Of mighty Cherubim; the sudden blaze
Far round illumined hell: highly they raged Against the highest, and fierce with graspèd arms Clash'd on their sounding shields the din of war, Hurling defiance toward the vault of heav'n. There stood a hill not far, whose grisly top Belch'd fire and rolling smoke; the rest entire Shone with a glossy scurf, undoubted sign That in his womb was hid metallic ore,
The work of sulphur. Thither, wing'd with speed, A numerous brigade hasten'd; as when bands Of pioneers, with spade and pickaxe arm'd, Forerun the royal camp, to trench a field, Or cast a rampart. Mammon1 led them on, Mammon, the least erected spirit that fell
From heav'n; for ev'n in heav'n his looks and thoughts Were always downward bent, admiring more The riches of heav'n's pavement, trodden gold, Than aught divine or holy else enjoy'd
In vision beatific. By him first
Men also, and by his suggestion taught,
Ransack'd the centre, and with impious hands Rifled the bowels of their mother earth For treasures better hid. Soon had his crew Open'd into the hill a spacious wound,
And digg'd out ribs of gold. Let none admire That riches grow in hell; that soil may best Deserve the precious bane. And here let those Who boast in mortal things, and wond'ring tell Of Babel and the works of Memphian kings, Learn how their greatest monuments of fame And strength and art are easily outdone By spirits reprobate, and in an hour What in an age they with incessant toil And hands innumerable scarce perform.
1 The word Mammon is Syriac for riches (Matt. vi. 24); personified also by Spenser.
Nigh on the plain in many cells prepared, That underneath had veins of liquid fire Sluiced from the lake, a second multitude With wond'rous art founded the massy ore, Severing each kind, and scumm'd the bullion dross. A third as soon had formed within the ground A various mould, and from the boiling cells By strange conveyance fill'd each hollow nook: As in an organ from one blast of wind
To many a row of pipes the sound-board breathes. Anon out of the earth a fabric huge Rose, like an exhalation, with the sound Of dulcet symphonies and voices sweet, Built like a temple, where pilasters round Were set, and Doric pillars overlaid With golden architrave; nor did there want Cornice or frieze with bossy sculptures graven; The roof was fretted gold. Not Babylon, Nor great Alcairo1 such magnificence Equall'd in all their glories, to inshrine Belus or Serapis their Gods, or seat
Their kings, when Egypt with Assyria strove In wealth and luxury. Th' ascending pile
Stood fixt her stately highth, and straight the doors,
Op'ning their brazen folds, discover, wide Within, her ample spaces, o'er the smooth And level pavement: from the arched roof, Pendant by subtle magic, many a row Of starry lamps and blazing cressets, fed With Naphtha and Asphaltus, yielded light As from a sky. The hasty multitude Admiring enter'd, and the work some praise, And some the architect: his hand was known In heav'n by many a towered structure high, Where sceptred angels held their residence, And sat as princes; whom the supreme King Exalted to such power, and gave to rule,
Each in his hierarchy, the orders bright. Nor was his name unheard or unadored In ancient Greece; and in Ausonian land Men call'd him Mulciber;' and how he fell From heav'n they fabled, thrown by angry Jove Sheer o'er the crystal battlements; from morn To noon he fell, from noon to dewy eve, A summer's day; and with the setting sun Dropt from the Zenith like a falling star, On Lemnos th' Egean isle; thus they relate, Erring; for he with this rebellious rout
Fell long before; nor aught avail'd him now To have built in heav'n high towers; nor did he 'scape
By all his engines, but was headlong sent With his industrious crew to build in hell.
Meanwhile the winged heralds by command
Of sov'reign power, with awful ceremony
And tri mpets sound, throughout the host proclaim A solemn council forthwith to be held
At Pandæmonium, the high capital
Of Satan and his peers: their summons call'd From every band and squared regiment
By place or choice the worthiest; they anon With hundreds and with thousands trooping came Attended: all access was throng'd, the gates And porches wide, but chief the spacious hall, Though like a cover'd field, where champions bold Wont ride in arm'd, and at the Soldan's chair Defied the best of Panim chivalry
To mortal combat or career with lance, Thick swarm'd, both on the ground and in the air, Brush'd with the hiss of rustling wings. As bees In spring time, when the sun with Taurus rides, Pour forth their populous youth about the hive In clusters; they among fresh dews and flowers Fly to and fro, or on the smoothèd plank, The suburb of their straw-built citadel,
Vulcan. See Homer, "Iliad," "1-590.
New rubb'd with balm, expatiate, and confer Their state affairs: So thick the aery crowd Swarm'd and were straiten'd; till, the signal giv'n, Behold a wonder! they, but now who seem'd In bigness to surpass earth's giant sons, Now less than smallest dwarfs, in narrow room Throng numberless, like that Pygmean race Beyond the Indian mount, or Fairy Elves, Whose midnight reve's, by a forest side, Or fountain, some belated peasant sees, Or dreams he sees, while over head the moon
Sits arbitress,' and nearer to the earth
Wheels her pale course; they, on their mirth and dance Intent, with jocund music charm his ear;
At once with joy and fear his heart rebounds. Thus incorporeal spirits to smallest forms.
Reduced their shapes immense, and were at large, Though without number still, amidst the hall Of that infernal court. But far within, And in their own dimensions like themselves, The great Seraphic lords and Cherubim In close recess and secret conclavé sat, A thousand Demi-gods on golden seats, Frequent and full. After short silence then And summons read, the great consult began.
Spectatress.-HOR. Ep. V. 49.
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