Read Paradise Lost (Modern Library Classics) Online
Authors: John Milton,William Kerrigan,John Rumrich,Stephen M. Fallon
797.
Frequent
: numerous.
798.
consult
: In seventeenth-century usage, the term is associated with secret meetings for plotting insurgency.
The consultation begun, Satan debates whether another battle be to be hazarded for the recovery of Heaven: some advise it; others dissuade. A third proposal is preferred, mentioned before by Satan: to search the truth of that prophecy or tradition in Heaven concerning another world and another kind of creature, equal or not much inferior to themselves, about this time to be created; their doubt who shall be sent on this difficult search. Satan their chief undertakes alone the voyage, is honored and applauded. The council thus ended, the rest betake them several ways and to several employments, as their inclinations lead them, to entertain the time till Satan return. He passes on his journey to Hell gates, finds them shut, and who sat there to guard them: by whom at length they are opened and discover to him the great gulf between Hell and Heaven; with what difficulty he passes through, directed by Chaos, the power of that place, to the sight of this new world which he sought.
High on a throne of royal state, which far
Outshone the wealth of Ormus
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and of Ind,
Or where the gorgeous East with richest hand
Show’rs on her kings barbaric
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pearl and gold,
“High on a throne of royal state …” (2.1).
(illustration credit 2.1)
Satan exalted sat, by merit
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raised
To that bad eminence; and from despair
Thus high uplifted beyond hope, aspires
Beyond thus high, insatiate to pursue
Vain war with Heav’n, and by success
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untaught
His proud imaginations thus displayed.
“Powers and Dominions
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, deities of Heav’n,
For since no deep within her gulf can hold
Immortal vigor, though oppressed and fall’n,
I give not Heav’n for lost
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. From this descent
Celestial Virtues
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rising, will appear
More glorious and more dread than from no fall,
And trust themselves to fear no second fate.
Me
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though just right, and the fixed laws of Heav’n
Did first create your leader, next, free choice,
With what besides, in counsel or in fight,
Hath been achieved of merit, yet this loss
Thus far at least recovered, hath much more
Established
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in a safe unenvied throne
Yielded with full consent. The happier state
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In Heav’n, which follows dignity
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, might draw
Envy from each inferior; but who here
Will envy whom the highest place exposes
Foremost to stand against the Thunderer
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’s aim
Your bulwark, and condemns to greatest share
Of endless pain? Where there is then no good
For which to strive, no strife can grow up there
From faction; for none sure will claim in Hell
Precedence, none, whose portion is so small
Of present pain, that with ambitious mind
Will covet more. With this advantage then
To union, and firm faith, and firm accord,
More than can be in Heav’n, we now return
To claim our just inheritance of old,
Surer to prosper than prosperity
Could have assured us; and by what best way,
Whether of open war or covert guile,
We now debate; who can advise, may speak.”
He ceased, and next him Moloch
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, sceptered king,
Stood up, the strongest and the fiercest spirit
That fought in Heav’n, now fiercer by despair.
His trust was with th’ Eternal to be deemed
Equal in strength, and rather than be less
Cared not to be at all; with that care lost
Went all his fear: of God, or Hell, or worse
He reck’d
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not, and these words thereafter spake.
“My sentence
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is for open war. Of wiles,
More unexpert
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, I boast not: them let those
Contrive who need, or when they need, not now.
For while they sit contriving, shall the rest,
Millions that stand in arms and longing wait
The signal to ascend, sit ling’ring here
Heav’n’s fugitives, and for their dwelling place
Accept this dark opprobrious den of shame,
The prison of his tyranny who reigns
By our delay? No, let us rather choose
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Armed with Hell flames and fury all at once
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O’er Heav’n’s high tow’rs to force resistless way,
Turning our tortures into horrid
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arms
Against the Torturer; when to meet the noise
Of his almighty engine
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he shall hear
Infernal thunder, and for lightning see
Black fire and horror shot with equal rage
Among his angels; and his throne itself
Mixed with Tartarean
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sulfur, and strange fire,
His own invented torments. But perhaps
The way seems difficult and steep to scale
With upright wing against a higher foe.
Let such bethink them, if the sleepy drench
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Of that forgetful
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lake benumb not still,
That in our proper motion we ascend
Up to our native seat: descent and fall
To us is adverse. Who but felt of late
When the fierce foe hung on our broken rear
Insulting
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, and pursu’d us through the deep,
With what compulsion and laborious flight
We sunk
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thus low? Th’ ascent is easy then;
Th’ event
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is feared. Should we again provoke
Our stronger, some worse way his wrath may find
To our destruction, if there be in Hell
Fear to be worse destroyed. What can be worse
Than to dwell here, driv’n out from bliss, condemned
In this abhorrèd deep to utter woe;
Where pain of unextinguishable fire
Must exercise us without hope of end
The vassals of his anger, when the scourge
Inexorably, and the torturing hour
Calls us to penance? More destroyed than thus
We should be quite abolished and expire.
What fear we then? What doubt we
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to incense
His utmost ire? Which to the highth enraged,
Will either quite consume us and reduce
To nothing this essential
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, happier far
Than miserable to have eternal being:
Or if our substance be indeed divine,
And cannot cease to be, we are at worst
On this side nothing
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; and by proof
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we feel
Our power sufficient to disturb his Heav’n,
And with perpetual inroads to alarm,
Though inaccessible, his fatal
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throne:
Which if not victory is yet revenge.”
He ended frowning, and his look denounced
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Desperate revenge, and battle dangerous
To less than gods. On th’ other side up rose
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Belial
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, in act more graceful and humane;
A fairer person lost not Heav’n; he seemed
For dignity composed and high exploit:
But all was false and hollow; though his tongue
Dropped manna
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, and could make the worse appear
The better reason, to perplex and dash
Maturest counsels: for his thoughts were low;
To vice industrious, but to nobler deeds
Timorous and slothful: yet he pleased the ear,
And with persuasive accent thus began.
“I should be much for open war, O peers,
As not behind in hate, if what was urged
Main reason to persuade immediate war,
Did not dissuade me most, and seem to cast
Ominous conjecture
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on the whole success:
When he who most excels in fact
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of arms,
In what he counsels and in what excels
Mistrustful, grounds his courage on despair
And utter dissolution, as the scope
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Of all his aim, after some dire revenge.
First, what revenge? The tow’rs of Heav’n are filled
With armèd watch, that render all access
Impregnable; oft on the bordering deep
Encamp their legions, or with obscure wing
Scout far and wide into the realm of Night,
Scorning surprise. Or could we break our way
By force, and at our heels all Hell should rise
With blackest insurrection, to confound
Heav’n’s purest light, yet our great enemy
All incorruptible would on his throne
Sit unpolluted, and th’ ethereal mold
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Incapable of stain would soon expel
Her mischief
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, and purge off the baser fire
Victorious. Thus repulsed, our final hope
Is flat despair: we must exasperate
Th’ almighty Victor to spend all his rage,
And that must end us, that must be our cure,
To be no more. Sad cure; for who would lose,
Though full of pain, this intellectual being,
Those thoughts that wander through eternity,
To perish rather, swallowed up and lost
In the wide womb of uncreated Night
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,
Devoid of sense and motion? And who knows,
Let this be good
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, whether our angry foe
Can give it, or will ever? How he can
Is doubtful; that he never will is sure.
Will he, so wise, let loose at once his ire,
Belike through impotence, or unaware,
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To give his enemies their wish, and end
Them in his anger, whom his anger saves
To punish endless? ‘Wherefore cease we then?’
Say they who
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counsel war, ‘we are decreed,
Reserved and destined to eternal woe;
Whatever doing, what can we suffer more,
What can we suffer worse?’ Is this then worst,
Thus sitting, thus consulting, thus in arms?
What when we fled amain
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, pursued and strook
With Heav’n’s afflicting thunder, and besought
The deep to shelter us? This Hell then seemed
A refuge from those wounds. Or when we lay
Chained on the burning lake? That sure was worse.
What if
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the breath that kindled those grim fires
Awaked should blow them into sevenfold rage
And plunge us in the flames? Or from above
Should intermitted
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vengeance arm again
His red right hand
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to plague us? What if all
Her
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stores were opened, and this firmament
Of Hell should spout her cataracts
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of fire
Impendent horrors, threat’ning hideous fall
One day upon our heads; while we perhaps
Designing or exhorting glorious war,
Caught in a fiery tempest shall be hurled
Each on his rock transfixed, the sport and prey
Of racking whirlwinds
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, or for ever sunk
Under yon boiling ocean, wrapped in chains;
There to converse with everlasting groans,
Unrespited, unpitied, unreprieved,
Ages of hopeless end. This would be worse.
War therefore,
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open or concealed, alike
My voice dissuades; for what can force or guile
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With him, or who deceive his mind, whose eye
Views all things at one view? He from Heav’n’s highth
All these our motions vain, sees and derides;
Not more almighty to resist our might
Than wise to frustrate all our plots and wiles.
Shall we then live thus vile, the race of Heav’n
Thus trampled, thus expelled to suffer here
Chains and these torments? Better these than worse
By my advice; since fate inevitable
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Subdues us, and omnipotent decree,
The victor’s will. To suffer, as to do
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,
Our strength is equal
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, nor the law unjust
That so ordains: this was at first resolved,
If we were wise, against so great a foe
Contending, and so doubtful what might fall.
I laugh, when those who at the spear are bold
And vent’rous, if that fail them, shrink and fear
What yet they know must follow, to endure
Exile, or ignominy, or bonds, or pain,
The sentence of their conqueror. This is now
Our doom; which if we can sustain and bear,
Our supreme foe in time may much remit
His anger, and perhaps thus far removed
Not mind us not offending, satisfied
With what is punished
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; whence these raging fires
Will slacken, if his breath stir not their flames.
Our purer essence then will overcome
Their noxious vapor, or inured not feel,
changed at length, and to the place conformed
In temper and in nature, will receive
Familiar the fierce heat, and void of pain;
This horror will grow mild, this darkness light
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,
Besides what hope the never-ending flight
Of future days may bring, what chance, what change
Worth waiting, since our present lot appears
For happy though but ill, for ill not worst
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,
If we procure not to ourselves more woe.”
Thus Belial with words clothed in reason’s garb
Counseled ignoble ease, and peaceful sloth,
Not peace: and after him thus Mammon
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spake.
“Either to disenthrone the King of Heav’n
We war, if war be best, or to regain
Our own right lost: him to unthrone we then
May hope when everlasting Fate shall yield
To fickle Chance, and Chaos judge the strife:
The former vain to hope argues as vain
The latter: for what place can be for us
Within Heav’n’s bound, unless Heav’n’s Lord supreme
We overpower? Suppose he should relent
And publish grace to all, on promise made
Of new subjection; with what eyes could we
Stand in his presence humble, and receive
Strict laws imposed, to celebrate his throne
With warbled hymns, and to his Godhead sing
Forced hallelujahs; while he lordly sits
Our envied Sov’reign, and his altar breathes
Ambrosial
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odors and ambrosial flowers,
Our servile offerings. This must be our task
In Heav’n, this our delight; how wearisome
Eternity so spent in worship paid
To whom we hate. Let us not then pursue
By force impossible, by leave obtained
Unacceptable, though in Heav’n, our state
Of splendid vassalage, but rather seek