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Paradise Lost - Milton John - Страница 22


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22

Thy sin and place of doom obscure and foule.

But come, for thou, be sure, shalt give account

To him who sent us, whose charge is to keep

This place inviolable, and these from harm.

So spake the Cherube, and his grave rebuke

Severe in youthful beautie, added grace

Invincible: abasht the Devil stood,

And felt how awful goodness is, and saw

Vertue in her shape how lovly, saw, and pin'd

His loss; but chiefly to find here observd

His lustre visibly impar'd; yet seemd

Undaunted. If I must contend, said he,

Best with the best, the Sender not the sent,

Or all at once; more glorie will be wonn,

Or less be lost. Thy fear, said ZEPHON bold,

Will save us trial what the least can doe

Single against thee wicked, and thence weak.

The Fiend repli'd not, overcome with rage;

But like a proud Steed reind, went hautie on,

Chaumping his iron curb: to strive or flie

He held it vain; awe from above had quelld

His heart, not else dismai'd. Now drew they nigh

The western point, where those half-rounding guards

Just met, & closing stood in squadron joind

Awaiting next command. To whom thir Chief

GABRIEL from the Front thus calld aloud.

O friends, I hear the tread of nimble feet

Hasting this way, and now by glimps discerne

ITHURIEL and ZEPHON through the shade,

And with them comes a third of Regal port,

But faded splendor wan; who by his gate

And fierce demeanour seems the Prince of Hell,

Not likely to part hence without contest;

Stand firm, for in his look defiance lours.

He scarce had ended, when those two approachd

And brief related whom they brought, wher found,

How busied, in what form and posture coucht.

To whom with stern regard thus GABRIEL spake.

Why hast thou, SATAN, broke the bounds prescrib'd

To thy transgressions, and disturbd the charge

Of others, who approve not to transgress

By thy example, but have power and right

To question thy bold entrance on this place;

Imploi'd it seems to violate sleep, and those

Whose dwelling God hath planted here in bliss?

To whom thus SATAN with contemptuous brow.

GABRIEL, thou hadst in Heav'n th' esteem of wise,

And such I held thee; but this question askt

Puts me in doubt. Lives ther who loves his pain?

Who would not, finding way, break loose from Hell,

Though thither doomd? Thou wouldst thy self, no doubt,

And boldly venture to whatever place

Farthest from pain, where thou mightst hope to change

Torment with ease, & soonest recompence

Dole with delight, which in this place I sought;

To thee no reason; who knowst only good,

But evil hast not tri'd: and wilt object

His will who bound us? let him surer barr

His Iron Gates, if he intends our stay

In that dark durance: thus much what was askt.

The rest is true, they found me where they say;

But that implies not violence or harme.

Thus hee in scorn. The warlike Angel mov'd,

Disdainfully half smiling thus repli'd.

O loss of one in Heav'n to judge of wise,

Since SATAN fell, whom follie overthrew,

And now returns him from his prison scap't,

Gravely in doubt whether to hold them wise

Or not, who ask what boldness brought him hither

Unlicenc't from his bounds in Hell prescrib'd;

So wise he judges it to fly from pain

However, and to scape his punishment.

So judge thou still, presumptuous, till the wrauth,

Which thou incurr'st by flying, meet thy flight

Seavenfold, and scourge that wisdom back to Hell,

Which taught thee yet no better, that no pain

Can equal anger infinite provok't.

But wherefore thou alone? wherefore with thee

Came not all Hell broke loose? is pain to them

Less pain, less to be fled, or thou then they

Less hardie to endure? courageous Chief,

The first in flight from pain, had'st thou alleg'd

To thy deserted host this cause of flight,

Thou surely hadst not come sole fugitive.

To which the Fiend thus answerd frowning stern.

Not that I less endure, or shrink from pain,

Insulting Angel, well thou knowst I stood

Thy fiercest, when in Battel to thy aide

The blasting volied Thunder made all speed

And seconded thy else not dreaded Spear.

But still thy words at random, as before,

Argue thy inexperience what behooves

From hard assaies and ill successes past

A faithful Leader, not to hazard all

Through wayes of danger by himself untri'd.

I therefore, I alone first undertook

To wing the desolate Abyss, and spie

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 Aire;

Though for possession put to try once more

What thou and thy gay Legions dare against;

Whose easier business were to serve thir Lord

High up in Heav'n, with songs to hymne his Throne,

And practis'd distances to cringe, not fight.

To whom the warriour Angel soon repli'd.

To say and strait unsay, pretending first

Wise to flie pain, professing next the Spie,

Argues no Leader, but a lyar trac't,

SATAN, and couldst thou faithful add? O name,

O sacred name of faithfulness profan'd!

Faithful to whom? to thy rebellious crew?

Armie of Fiends, fit body to fit head;

Was this your discipline and faith ingag'd,

Your military obedience, to dissolve

Allegeance to th' acknowledg'd Power supream?

And thou sly hypocrite, who now wouldst seem

Patron of liberty, who more then thou

Once fawn'd, and cring'd, and servilly ador'd

Heav'ns awful Monarch? wherefore but in hope

To dispossess him, and thy self to reigne?

But mark what I arreede thee now, avant;

Flie thither whence thou fledst: if from this houre

Within these hallowd limits thou appeer,

Back to th' infernal pit I drag thee chaind,

And Seale thee so, as henceforth not to scorne

The facil gates of hell too slightly barrd.

So threatn'd hee, but SATAN to no threats

Gave heed, but waxing more in rage repli'd.

Then when I am thy captive talk of chaines,

Proud limitarie Cherube, but ere then

Farr heavier load thy self expect to feel

From my prevailing arme, though Heavens King

Ride on thy wings, and thou with thy Compeers,

Us'd to the yoak, draw'st his triumphant wheels

In progress through the rode of Heav'n Star-pav'd.

While thus he spake, th' Angelic Squadron bright

Turnd fierie red, sharpning in mooned hornes

Thir Phalanx, and began to hemm 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

Swayes them; the careful Plowman doubting stands

Least on the threshing floore his hopeful sheaves

Prove chaff. On th' other side SATAN allarm'd

Collecting all his might dilated stood,

Like TENERIFF or ATLAS unremov'd:

His stature reacht the Skie, and on his Crest

Sat horror Plum'd; nor wanted in his graspe

What seemd both Spear and Shield: now dreadful deeds

Might have ensu'd, nor onely Paradise

In this commotion, but the Starrie Cope

Of Heav'n perhaps, or all the Elements

At least had gon to rack, disturbd and torne

With violence of this conflict, had not soon

Th' Eternal to prevent such horrid fray

Hung forth in Heav'n his golden Scales, yet seen

Betwixt ASTREA and the SCORPION signe,

Wherein all things created first he weighd,

The pendulous round Earth with ballanc't Aire

22

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Milton John - Paradise Lost Paradise Lost
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