The Complete Poetry of John Milton (69 page)

   815  
      
       She finish’d, and the suttle Fiend his lore

               
Soon learnd, now milder, and thus answerd smooth.

               
Dear Daughter, since thou claim’st me for thy Sire,

               
And my fair Son here showst me, the dear pledge

               
Of dalliance had with thee in Heav’n, and joys

   820     
Then sweet, now sad to mention, through dire change

               
Befall’n us unforeseen, unthought of, know

               
I come no enemie, but to set free

               
From out this dark and dismal house of pain,

               
Both him and thee, and all the heav’nly Host

   825     
Of Spirits that in our just pretenses arm’d

               
Fell with us from on high: from them I go

               
This uncouth errand sole, and one for all

               
My self expose, with lonely steps to tread

               
Th’ unfounded deep, and through the void immense

   830     
To search with wandring quest a place foretold

               
Should be, and, by concurring signs, ere now

               
Created vast and round, a place of bliss

               
In the Pourlieues of Heav’n, and therein plac’t

               
A race of upstart Creatures, to supply

   835     
Perhaps our vacant room, though more remov’d,

               
Least Heav’n surcharg’d with potent multitude

               
Might hap to move new broils: Be this or aught

               
Then this more secret now design’d, I haste

               
To know, and this once known, shall soon return,

   840     
And bring ye to the place where Thou and Death

               
Shall dwell at ease, and up and down unseen

               
Wing silently the buxom
⁴¹
Air, imbalm’d

               
With odours; there ye shall be fed and fill’d

               
Immeasurably, all things shall be your prey.

   845     
He ceas’d, for both seemd highly pleas’d, and Death

               
Grinnd horrible a gastly smile, to hear

               
His famine should be fill’d, and blest his maw

               
Destin’d to that good hour: no less rejoyc’d

               
His mother bad, and thus bespake her Sire.

   850  
      
       The key of this infernal Pit by due,

               
And by command of Heav’ns all-powerful King

               
I keep, by him forbidden to unlock

               
These Adamantine Gates; against all force

               
Death ready stands to interpose his dart,

   855     
Fearless to be o’rematcht by living might.

               
But what ow I to his commands above

               
Who hates me, and hath hither thrust me down

               
Into this gloom of
Tartarus
profound,

               
To sit in hateful Office here confin’d,

   860     
Inhabitant of Heav’n, and heav’nlie-born,

               
Here in perpetual agonie and pain,

               
With terrors and with clamors compasst round

               
Of mine own brood, that on my bowels feed:

               
Thou art my Father, thou my Author, thou

   865     
My being gav’st me; whom should I obey

               
But thee, whom follow? thou wilt bring me soon

               
To that new world of light and bliss, among

               
The Gods who live at ease, where I shall Reign

               
At thy right hand voluptuous, as beseems

   870     
Thy daughter and thy darling, without end.

           
      
       Thus saying, from her side the fatal Key,

               
Sad instrument of all our woe, she took;

               
And towards the Gate rouling her bestial train,

               
Forthwith the huge Porcullis high up drew,

   875     
Which but her self not all the
Stygian
powers

               
Could once have mov’d; then in the key-hole turns

               
Th’ intricate wards, and every Bolt and Bar

               
Of massie Iron or sollid Rock with ease

               
Unfast’ns: on a sudden op’n flie

   880     
With impetuous recoil and jarring sound

               
Th’ infernal dores, and on thir hinges grate

               
Harsh Thunder, that the lowest bottom shook

               
Of
Erebus.
⁴²
She op’nd, but to shut

               
Excel’d her power;
⁴³
the Gates wide op’n stood,

   885     
That with extended wings a Bannerd Host

               
Under spread Ensigns marching might pass through

               
With Horse and Chariots rankt in loose array;

               
So wide they stood, and like a Furnace mouth

               
Cast forth redounding smoak and ruddy flame.

   890     
Before thir eyes in sudden view appear

               
The secrets of the hoarie deep, a dark

               
Illimitable Ocean without bound,

               
Without dimension, where length, breadth, and highth,

               
And time and place are lost; where eldest Night

   895     
And
Chaos
, Ancestors of Nature, hold

               
Eternal
Anarchie
, amidst the noise

               
Of endless Warrs, and by confusion stand.

               
For hot, cold, moist, and dry,
⁴⁴
four Champions fierce

               
Strive here for Maistrie, and to Battel bring

   900     
Thir embryon Atoms; they around the flag

               
Of each his Faction, in thir several Clanns,

               
Light-arm’d or heavy, sharp, smooth, swift or slow,

               
Swarm populous, unnumber’d as the Sands

               
Of
Barca
or
Cyrene’s
⁴⁵
torrid soil,

   905     
Levied to side with warring Winds, and poise
⁴⁶

               
Thir lighter wings. To whom these most adhere,

               
Hee
⁴⁷
rules a moment;
Chaos
Umpire sits,

               
And by decision more imbroils the fray

               
By which he Reigns: next him high Arbiter

   910     
Chance
⁴⁸
governs all. Into this wild Abyss,

               
The Womb of nature and perhaps her Grave,

               
Of neither Sea, nor Shore, nor Air, nor Fire,

               
But all these in thir pregnant causes
⁴⁹
mixt

               
Confus’dly, and which thus must ever fight,

   915     
Unless th’ Almighty Maker them ordain

               
His dark materials to create more Worlds,

               
Into this wild Abyss the warie fiend

               
Stood on the brink of Hell and look’d a while,

               
Pondering his Voyage; for no narrow frith

   920     
He had to cross. Nor was his ear less peal’d

               
With noises loud and ruinous (to compare

               
Great things with small) then when
Bellona
⁵⁰
storms,

               
With all her battering Engines bent to rase

               
Som Capital City; or less then if this frame

   925     
Of Heav’n were falling, and these Elements

               
In mutinie had from her Axle torn

               
The stedfast Earth. At last his Sail-broad Vans

               
He spreads for flight, and in the surging smoak

               
Uplifted spurns the ground, thence many a League

   930     
As in a cloudy Chair ascending rides

               
Audacious, but that seat soon failing, meets

               
A vast vacuitie: all unawares

               
Fluttring his pennons vain plumb down he drops

               
Ten thousand fadom deep, and to this hour

   935     
Down had been falling, had not by ill chance

               
The strong rebuff of som tumultuous cloud

               
Instinct
⁵¹
with Fire and Nitre hurried him

               
As many miles aloft: that furie stay’d,

               
Quencht in a Boggie
Syrtis
,
⁵²
neither Sea,

   940     
Nor good dry Land: nigh founderd on he fares,

               
Treading the crude consistence, half on foot,

               
Half flying; behoves him now both Oar and Sail.

               
As when a Gryfon through the Wilderness

               
With winged course ore Hill or moarie Dale,

   945     
Pursues the
Arimaspian
,
⁵³
who by stelth

               
Had from his wakeful custody purloind

               
The guarded Gold: So eagerly the fiend

               
Ore bog or steep, through strait, rough, dense, or rare,

               
With head, hands, wings or feet pursues his way,

   950     
And swims or sinks, or wades, or creeps, or flyes:

               
At length a universal hubbub wild

               
Of stunning sounds and voices all confus’d

               
Born through the hollow dark assaults his ear

               
With loudest vehemence: thither he plyes,

   955     
Undaunted to meet there what ever power

               
Or Spirit of the nethermost Abyss

               
Might in that noise reside, of whom to ask

               
Which way the neerest coast of darkness lyes

               
Bordering on light; when strait behold the Throne

   960     
Of
Chaos
, and his dark Pavilion spread
⁵⁴

               
Wide on the wasteful Deep; with him Enthron’d

               
Sat Sable-vested
Night
, eldest of things,

               
The Consort of his Reign; and by them stood

               
Orcus
and
Ades
,
⁵⁵
and the dreaded name

   965     
Of
Demogorgon; Rumor
next and
Chance
,

               
And
Tumult
and
Confusion
all imbroild,

               
And
Discord
with a thousand various mouths.

           
      
       T’ whom
Satan
turning boldly, thus. Ye Powers

               
And Spirits of this nethermost Abyss,