Side 100 af 239

A faithful leader, not to hazard all

Through ways of danger by himself untried.

I therefore, I alone first undertook

To wing the desolate abyss and spy

This new-created world, whereof in hell

Fame is not silent, here in hope to find

Better abode, and my afflicted powers

To settle here on earth, or in mid air;

Though for possession put to try once more

What thou and thy gay legions dare against;

Whose easier business were to serve their Lord

High up in heaven, with songs to hymn his throne,

And practised distances to cringe, not fight.

To whom the warrior Angel soon replied: To say and straight unsay, pretending first Wise to fly pain, professing next the spy, Argues no leader, but a liar traced, Satan: and couldst thou faithful add? O name, O sacred name of faithfulness profaned! Faithful to whom? To thy rebellious crew? Army of fiends, fit body to fit head. Was this your discipline and faith engaged, Your military obedience, to dissolve Allegiance to the acknowledged Power Supreme? And thou, sly hypocrite, who now wouldst seem Patron of liberty, who more than thou Once fawned, and cringed, and servilely adored Heaven's awful monarch? wherefore, but in hope To dispossess him, and thyself to reign? But mark what I areed thee now: Avaunt! Fly thither whence thou fledd'st! If from this hour Within these hallowed limits thou appear, Back to the infernal pit I drag thee chained, And seal thee so, as henceforth not to scorn The facile gates of hell too slightly barred.

' Areed thee.—Anglo-Saxon, for counsel—admonish.

So threatened he; but Satan to no threats

Gave heed, but, waxing more in rage, replied:

Then, when I am thy captive, talk of chains,

Proud limitary cherub! but ere then

Far heavier load thyself expect to feel

From my prevailing arm, though heaven's king

Ride on thy wings, and thou with thy compeers,

Used to the yoke, draw'st his triumphant wheels

In progress through the road of Heaven star-paved.

PARADISE LOST.

While thus he spake, the angelic squadron bright Turned fiery red, sharpening in mooned horns Their phalanx, and began to hem him round With ported spears, as thick as when a field Of Ceres, ripe for harvest, waving bends Her bearded grove of ears, which way the wind Sways them; the careful ploughman doubting stands, Lest on the threshing-floor his hopeful sheaves Prove chaff. On the other side, Satan, alarmed, Collecting all his might, dilated stood, Like Teneriff or Atlas, unremoved: His stature reached the sky, and on his crest Sat horror plumed; nor wanted in his grasp What seemed both spear and shield. Now dreadful deeds Might have ensued; nor only Paradise, In this commotion, but the starry cope Of heaven perhaps, or all the elements At least had gone to wrack, disturbed and torn With violence of this conflict, had not soon The Eternal, to prevent such horrid fray, Hung forth in heaven his golden scales, yet seen Betwixt Astrea and the Scorpion² sign, Wherein all things created first He weighed, The pendulous round earth with balanced air In counterpoise; now ponders all events,

Proud limitary cherub.—One set to watch limits—to guard boundaries.

Betwixt Astrea and the Scorpion.—Signs in the Zodiac.