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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 juft inheritance of old,
Surer to profper than profperity

Could have affur'd us; and by what best way,
Whether of open War or covert guile,

We now debate; who can advise may speak.

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He ceas'd; and next him Moloc, fceptred King, Stood up, the ftrongest and the fiercest Spirit That fought in Heav'n, now fiercer by defpair: 45 His truft was with th' Eternal to be deem'd Equal in ftrength, and rather than be lefs Car'd not to be at all; with that care loft Went all his fear: of God, or Hell, or worse, He reck'd not; and these words thereafter spake: 50

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My fentence is for open War: of Wiles, More unexpert, I boaft not: them let thofe Contrive who need, or when they need, not now: For while they fit contriving, fhall the reft, Millions that ftand in Arms, and longing wait The Signal to ascend, fit ling'ring here Heav'ns fugitives, and for their dwelling place Accept this dark opprobrious Den of shame, The Prifon of his Tyranny who reigns By our delay no, let us rather chufe, Arm'd with Hell flames and fury, all at once O'er Heav'ns high Towrs to force refiftless way, Turning our Tortures into horrid Arms Against the Torturer; when to meet the noise of his Almighty Engine he shall hear Infernal Thunder, and for Lightning fee Black fire and horrour fhot with equal rage Among his Angels; and his Throne it felf Mixt with Tartarean Sulphur, and strange fire, His own invented Torments. But perhaps

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The way feems difficult and fteep, to fcale
With upright wing against a higher foe.
bet fuch bethink them, if the fleepy drench
Of that forgetful Lake benumb not still,
That in our proper motion we afcend
Up to our native feat: defcent and fall
To us is adverfe. Who but felt of late
When the fierce Foe hung on our broken Rere
Infulting and purfu'd us through the Deep,
With what compulfion and laborious flight
We funk thus low! Th' afcent is eafie then;
Th' event is fear'd; fhould we again provoke
Our stronger, fome worfe way his wrath may find
To our deftru&tion: if there be in Hell
Fear to be worse destroy'd: what can be worfe
Than to dwell here, driv'n out from Blifs, condemn'd
In this abhorred Deep to utter woe;

Where pain of unextinguishable fire
Muft exercise us without hope of end
The Vaffals of his anger, when the Scourge
Inexorably, and the torturing hour

Calls us to Penance? More destroy'd than thus
We should be quite abolish'd and expire.
What fear we then? what doubt we to incenfe
His utmost Ire? which to the heighth enrag'd,
Will either quite confume us, and reduce
To nothing this effential, happier far
Than miferable to have eternal being:
Or if our fubftance be indeed Divine,
And cannot ceafe to be, we are at worst
On this fide nothing; and by proof we feel
Our power fufficient to disturb his Heav'n,
And with perpetual inrodes to allarm,
Though inacceffible, his fatal Throne:
Which, if not Victory, is yet Revenge.

He ended frowning, and his look denounc'd
Desperate revenge, and Battel dangerous

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To lefs than Gods. On th' other fide up rofe
Belial, in act more gracefull and humane;
A fairer perfon loft not Heav'n; he seem'd
For dignity compos'd and high exploit:
But all was falfe and hollow; though his Tongue
Dropt Manna, and could make the worse appear
The better Reafon, to perplex and dash

Matureft Counfels: for his Thoughts were low; 115
To Vice induftrious, but to Nobler deeds
Tim'rous and flothful: yet he pleas'd the Ear,
And with perfuafive accent thus began.

1 should be much for open War, O Peers,
As not behind in hate, if what was urg'd
Main reafon to pèrfuade immediate War,
Did not diffuade me moft, and seem to caft
Ominous conjecture on the whole fuccefs:
When he who most excells in fact of Arms,
In what he counfels and in what excells
Mistrustful, grounds his courage on despair
And utter diffolution, as the scope

Of all his aim, after fome dire revenge.

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Fir, what Revenge? the Towrs of Heav'n are fill'à
With armed 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 furprize. Or could we break our way
By force, and at our heels all Hell fhould rife 135
With blackeft Infurrection, to confound
Heav'ns pureft Light, yet our great Enemy
All incorruptible would on his Throne
Sit unpolluted, and th' Ethereal mould
Incapable of ftain would foon expell
Her mischief, and purge off the bafer fire
Victorious. Thus repuls'd, our final hope
Is flat defpair: we must exasperate

Th' Almighty Victor to spend all his rage,

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And that muft end us, that must be our cure
To be no more, fad cure; for who would lofe,
Though full of pain, this intellectual being,
Those thoughts that wander through Eternity;
To perish rather, fwallow'd up and loft

Ja the wide womb of uncreated night,

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Devoid of fenfe and motion? and who knows,
Let this be good, whether our angry Foc
Can give it, or will ever; how he can
Is doubtfull; that he never will is fure.
Will he, fo wife, let loofe at once his ire,
Belike through Impotence, or unaware,
To give his Enemies their with, and end
Them in his anger, whom his anger faves
To punish endlefs wherefore ceafe we then
Say they who counfel War, we are decreed,
Referv'd, and deftin'd to eternal woe;
Whatever doing, what can we fuffer more,
What can we fuffer worfe? is this then worst,
Thus fitting, thus confulting, thus in Arms?
What when we filed amain, purfu'd and ftrook
With Heav'ns afflicting Thunder, and befought
The Deep to fhefter us; this Hell then feem'd
A refuge from thofe wounds: or when we lay
Chain'd on the burning Lake? that fure was worse.
What if the breath that kindl'd thofe grim fires 170
Awak'd should blow them into fevenfold rage
And plunge us in the flames? or from above
Should intermitted Veng'ance arm again
His red right hand to plague us? what if all
Her ftores were open'd, and this Firmament
Of Hell fhould fpout her Cataracts of Fire,
Impendent horrours, threatning hideous fall
One day upon our heads; while we perhaps
Defigning or exhorting glorious war,
Caught in a fiery Tempeft fhall be hurl'd
Each on his Rock transfixt, the sport and prey
Of racking whirlwinds, or for ever funk

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Under yon boyling Ocean, wrapt in Chains;
There to converfe with everlafting groans,
Unrefpited, unpitied, unrepriev'd,

Ages of hopeless end? this would be worse.
War therefore, open or conceal'd, alike

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My voice diffuades; for what can force or guile
With him, or who deceive his mind, whose eye
Views all things at one view! he from Heav'ns height
All these our motions vain fees and derides;
Not more Almighty to refift our might

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Than wife to fruftrate all our plots and wiles.
Shall we then live thus vile, the race of Heav'n
Thus trampl'd, thus expell'd, to fuffer here
Chains and thefe Torments? better these than worse,
By my advice; fince fate inevitable
Subdues us, and omnipotent Decree,

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The Victor's Will. To fuffer, as to doe,
Our ftrength is equal, nor the Law unjuft
That fo ordains: This was at firft refolv'd
If we were wife, against fo great a foe
Contending, and fo doubtful what might fall.
I laugh, when those who at the Spear are bold
And vent'rous, if that fail them, fhrink and fear 205
What yet they know muft follow, to endure
Exile, or ignominy, or bonds, or pain,
The fentence of their Conqu'ror: This is now
Our doom; which if we can sustain and bear,
Our fupreme Foe, in time may much remit
His anger, and perhaps thus far remov'd
Not mind us not offending, fatisfi'd

With what is punish'd; whence these raging fires
Will flacken, if his breath ftir not their Flames.
Our purer effence then will overcome

Their noxious vopour, or enur'd not feel,

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Or chang'd at length, and to the place conform'd In temper and in nature, will receive

Familiar the fierce hear, and void of Pain;

This horrour will grow mild, this darknefs light, 220