Fool'd and beguil'd; by him thou, I by thee, To trust thee from my side, imagin'd wise, Constant, mature, proof against all assaults; And understood not all was but a show, Rather than solid virtue; all but a rib, Crooked by nature, bent, as now appears, More to the part sinister, from me drawn, Well if thrown out as supernumerary To my just number found. O why did God, Creator wise, that peopled highest heav'n With spirits masculine, create at last This novelty on earth, this fair defect Of nature; and not fill the world at once With Men as Angels without feminine, Or find some other way to generate Mankind? This mischief had not then befall'n, And more that shall befal; innumerable Disturbances on earth through female snares, And strait conjunction with the sex: for either He never shall find out fit mate, but such As some misfortune brings him, or mistake; Or whom he wishes most shall seldom gain Through her perverseness; but shall see her gain'd By a far worse; or if she love, with-held By parents; or his happiest choice too late Shall meet already link'd and wedlock-bound To a fell adversary, his hate or shame: Which infinite calamity shall cause
To human life, and household peace confound. He added not, and from her turn'd; but Eve Not so repuls'd, with tears that ceas'd not flowing, And tresses all disorder'd, at his feet
Fell humble, and embracing them, besought His peace, and thus proceeded in her plaint:
Forsake me not thus, Adam, witness Heav'n What love sincere, and reverence in my heart I bear thee, and unweeting have offended, Unhappily deceiv'd; thy suppliant I beg, and clasp thy knees; bereave me not, Whereon I live, thy gentle looks, thy aid,
Thy counsel, in this uttermost distress, My only strength and stay: forlorn of thee, Whither shall I betake me, where subsist?
While yet we live, scarce one short hour perhaps, Between us two let there be peace, both joining, As join'd in injuries, one enmity
Against a foe by doom express assign'd us, That cruel serpent. On me exercise not Thy hatred for this misery befall'n, On me already lost, me than thyself More miserable; both have sinn'd, but thou Against God only, I against God and thee; And to the place of judgment will return, There with my cries importune Heav'n, that all. The sentence from thy head remov'd may light On me, sole cause to thee of all this woe, Me, me only, just object of his ire.
She ended weeping; and her lowly plight, Immoveable till peace obtain'd, from fault Acknowledg'd and deplor'd, in Adam wrought Commiseration; soon his heart relented Tow'rds her, his life so late and sole delight, Now at his feet submissive in distress, Creature so fair his reconcilement seeking, His counsel, whom she had displeas'd, his aid; As one disarm'd, his anger all he lost,
And thus with peaceful words uprais'd her soon: Unwary, and too desirous, as before,
So now of what thou know'st not, who desir'st The punishment all on thyself; alas,
Bear thine own first, ill able to sustain
His full wrath, whose thou feel'st as yet least part, And my displeasure bear'st so ill. If prayers
Could alter high decrees, I to that place
Would speed before thee, and be louder heard, That on my head all might be visited, Thy frailty and infirmer sex forgiv❜n, To me committed, and by me expos'd. But rise, let us no more contend, nor blame
Each other, blam'd enough elsewhere; but strive In offices of love, how we may lighten
Each other's burden, in our share of woe; Since this day's death denounc'd, if ought I see, Will prove no sudden, but a slow-pac'd evil, A long day's dying, to augment our pain,' And to our seed (O hapless seed!) deriv'd. To whom thus Eve, recov'ring heart, reply'd: Adam, by sad experiment I know
How little weight my words with thee can find, Found so erroneous, thence by just event Found so unfortunate: nevertheless, Restor'd by thee, vile as I am, to place Of new acceptance, hopeful to regain Thy love, the sole contentment of my heart, Living or dying from thee I will not hide What thoughts in my unquiet breast are risen, Tending to some relief of our extremes, Or end, though sharp and sad, yet tolerable, As in our evils, and of easier choice.
If care of our descent perplex us most, Which must be born to certain woe, devour'd By death at last; and miserable it is
To be to others cause of misery,
Our own begott❜n, and of our loins to bring Into this cursed world a woeful race, That after wretched life must be at last Food for so foul a monster; in thy pow'r It lies, yet ere conception, to prevent The race unbless'd, to being yet unbegot. Childless thou art, childless remain: so Death Shall be deceiv'd his glut, and with us two Be forc'd to satisfy his ravenous maw. But if thou judge it hard and difficult, Conversing, looking; loving, to abstain From love's due rites, nuptial einbraces sweet, And with desire to languish without hope, Before the present object languishing With like desire, which would be misery
And torment less than none of what we dread; Then both ourselves and seed at once to free From what we fear for both, let us make short, Let us seek Death; or he not found, supply With our own hands his office on ourselves; Why stand we longer shivering under fears, That show no end but death, and have the pow'r Of many ways to die the shortest chusing, Destruction with destruction to destroy?
She ended here, or vehement despair Broke off the rest; so much of death her thoughts Had entertain'd, as dy'd her cheeks with pale. But Adam with such counsel nothing sway'd, To better hopes his more attentive mind Lab'ring had rais'd, and thus to Eve reply'd: Eve, thy contempt of life and pleasure, seems To argue in thee something more sublime And excellent than what thy mind contemns; But self-destruction therefore sought, refutes That excellence thought in thee, and implies, Not thy contempt, but anguish and regret For loss of life and pleasure overlov'd. Or if thou covet death as utmost end Of misery, so thinking to evade The penalty pronounc'd, doubt not but God Hath wiselier arm'd his vengeful ire than so To be forestall'd; much more I fear, lest death So snatch'd will not exempt us from the pain We are by doom to pay; rather such acts Of contumacy will provoke the Highest To make death in us live: then let us seek Some safer resolution, which methinks I have in view, calling to mind with heed Part of our sentence, that thy seed shall bruise The serpent's head; piteous amends, unless Be meant, whom I conjecture, our grand foe Satan, who in the serpent hath contriv'd Against us this deceit: to crush his head Would be revenge indeed; which will be lost
By death brought on ourselves, or childless days Resolv'd, as thou proposest; so our foe shall 'scape his punishment ordain'd, and we Instead shall double ours upon our heads. No more.be mention'd then of violence Against ourselves, and wilful barrenness, That cuts us off from hope, and savours only Rancour and pride, impatience and despite, Reluctance against God, and his just yoke Laid on our necks. Remember with what mild And gracious temper he both heard and judg'd, Without wrath or reviling: we expected Immediate dissolution, which we thought Was meant by death that day; when lo, to thee Fains only in child-bearing were foretold, And bringing forth, soon recompens'd with joy, Fruit of thy womb: on me the curse aslope Glanc'd on the ground: with labour I must earn My bread: what harm? Idleness had been worse; My labour will sustain me: and lest cold Or heat should injure us, his timely care Hath unbesought provided, and his hands Cloth'd us unworthy, pitying while he judg'd: How much more, if we pray him, will his ear Be open, and his heart to pity incline, And teach us further by what means to shun Th' inclement seasons, rain, ice, hail and snow? Which now the sky with various face begins To shew us in this mountain, while the winds Blow moist and keen, shattering the graceful locks Of these fair spreading trees; which bid us seek Some better shroud, some better warmth, to cherish Our limbs benumb'd, ere this diurnal star Leave cold the night, how we his gather'd beams Reflected, may with matter sere foment,
Or by collision of two bodies grind The air attrite to fire, as late the clouds
Justling or push'd with winds, rude in their shock
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