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If thou beest he; but oh, how fallen! how changed From him, who, in the happy realms of light, Clothed with transcendent brightness, didst outshine Myriads, though bright! If he, whom mutual league, United thoughts and counsels, equal hope And hazard in the glorious enterprise, Joined with me once, now misery hath joined In equal ruin; into what pit thou seest From what height fallen, so much the stronger proved He with his thunder. And till then who knew The force of those dire arms? Yet not for those, Nor what the potent Victor in his rage Can else inflict, do I repent or change, Though changed in outward lustre, that fixed mind, And high disdain from sense of injured merit, That with the Mightiest raised me to contend, And to the fierce contention brought along Innumerable force of Spirits armed, That durst dislike his reign, and, me preferring, His utmost power with adverse power opposed In dubious battle on the plains of Heaven, And shook his throne. What though the field be lost? All is not lost; the unconquerable will, And study of revenge, immortal hate,

Long after known in Palastine.—Milton often speaks of the heathen gods as being the fallen angels, practically their frauds in that form upon their victims. ³ Satan. - Enemy, in Hebrew.

PARADISE LOST. Воок І.—108-143]

> And courage never to submit or yield, And what is else not to be overcome; That glory never shall his wrath or might Extort from me. To bow and sue for grace With suppliant knee, and deify His power Who from the terror of this arm so late Doubted his empire—that were low indeed, That were an ignominy, and shame beneath This downfall. Since, by fate, the strength of gods, And this empyreal substance, cannot fail; Since, through experience of this great event, In arms not worse, in foresight much advanced, We may with more successful hope resolve To wage, by force or guile, eternal war, Irreconcilable to our grand Foe, Who now triumphs, and, in the excess of joy Sole reigning, holds the tyranny of Heaven.

So spake the apostate angel, though in pain, Vaunting aloud, but racked with deep despair; And him thus answered soon his bold compeer:

O prince, O chief of many-throned powers, That led the embattled seraphim to war Under thy conduct, and, in dreadful deeds Fearless, endanger'd heaven's perpetual King, And put to proof His high supremacy, Whether upheld by strength, or chance, or fate; Too well I see and rue the dire event, That with sad overthrow and foul defeat, Hath lost us Heaven, and all this mighty host In horrible destruction laid thus low, As far as gods and heavenly essences Can perish: for the mind and spirit remain Invincible, and vigour soon returns, Though all our glory extinct, and happy state Here swallowed up in endless misery. But what if He our Conqueror—whom I now