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And breast,—what could we more?—propounded terms Of composition, straight they changed their minds, Flew off, and into strange vagaries fell, As they would dance. Yet for a dance they seemed Somewhat extravagant and wild; perhaps, For joy of offered peace. But I suppose, If our proposals once again were heard, We should compel them to a quick result.

To whom thus Belial, in like gamesome mood:

Leader, the terms we sent were terms of weight,

Of hard contents, and full of force urged home;

Such as we might perceive amused them all,

And stumbled many. Who receives them right,

Had need from head to foot well understand;

Not understood, this gift they have besides,

They show us when our foes walk not upright.

So they among themselves in pleasant vein Stood scoffing, heightened in their thoughts beyond All doubt of victory; Eternal Might To match with their inventions they presumed So easy, and of his thunder made a scorn, And all his host derided, while they stood Awhile in trouble. But they stood not long. Rage prompted them at length, and found them arms Against such hellish mischief fit to oppose. Forthwith—behold the excellence, the power, Which God hath in his mighty angels placed! Their arms away they threw, and to the hills-For earth hath this variety from heaven Of pleasure situate in hill and dale,-Light as the lightening glimpse, they ran, they flew; From their foundations loosening to and fro, They plucked the seated hills, with all their load, Rocks, waters, woods, and by the shaggy tops Uplifting, bore them in their hands. Amaze, Be sure, and terror, seized the rebel host,

When coming towards them so dread they saw The bottom of the mountains upward turned, Till on those cursed engines' triple row They saw them whelmed, and all their confidence Under the weight of mountains buried deep; Themselves invaded next, and on their heads Main promontories flung, which in the air Came shadowing, and oppressed whole legions armed. Their armour helped their harm, crushed in and bruised Into their substance pent, which wrought them pain Implacable, and many a dolorous groan, Long struggling underneath, ere they could wind Out of such prison, though spirits of purest light, Purest at first, now gross by sinning grown. The rest, in imitation, to like arms Betook them, and the neighbouring hills uptore: So hills amid the air encountered hills, Hurled to and fro with jaculation dire, That under ground they fought in dismal shade. Infernal noise! war seemed a civil game To this uproar: horrid confusion heaped Upon confusion rose. And now all heaven Had gone to wrack, with ruin overspread, Had not the Almighty Father, where He sits Shrined in his sanctuary of heaven secure, Consulting on the sum of things, foreseen This tumult, and permitted all, advised; That his great purpose he might so fulfil, To honour his anointed Son avenged Upon his enemies, and to declare All power on Him transferred. Whence to his Son, The assessor of his throne, he thus began: Effulgence of my glory, Son beloved, Son, in whose face invisible is beheld

Implacable.—Not to be assuaged