Though thither doom'd? Thou wouldft thyself, no Dole with delight, which in this place I sought; 895 In that dark durance: thus much what was ask’d. The rest is true, they found me where they fay; 900 But that implies not violence or harm. Thus he in scorn. The warlike Angel mov'd, Difdainfully half smiling thus reply'd. 905 O lofs of one in Heav'n to judge of wise, 910. So judge thou ftill, prefumptuous, till the wrath, Which thou incurr'ft by flying, meet thy flight Sev'nfold, and fcourge that wisdom back to Hell, Which taught thee yet no better, that no pain 915 Can equal anger infinite provok'd. But wherefore thou alone? wherefore with thee Came 920 Came not all Hell broke loofe? is pain to them 925 To which the Fiend thus answer'd, frowning ftern. Not that I less indure, or shrink from pain, Infulting Angel; well thou know'ft I stood Thy fierceft, when in battel to thy aid The blafting volied thunder made all speed, And feconded thy else not dreaded spear. But ftill thy words at random, as before, Argue thy inexperience what behoves, From hard assays and ill fucceffes past, 930 Fame is not filent; here in hope to find 940 Though for poffeffion put to try once more 945 Το To whom the warrior Angel foon reply'd. To fay, and strait unfay, pretending first Wife to fly pain, profeffing next the spy, Argues no leader but a liar trac'd, Satan, and couldft thou faithful add? O name, 950 955 O facred name of faithfulness profan'd! Fly thither whence thou fledst: if from this hour 965 So threaten'd he; but Satan to no threats Gave heed; but waxing more in rage reply'd. Then when I am thy captive talk of chains, 970 Proud, limitary Cherub, but ere then Far heavier load thy felf expect to feel From my prevailing arm, though Heaven's king Ride on thy wings, and thou,with thy compeers, Us'd to the yoke, draw'ft his triumphant wheels 975 In progress through the road of Heav'n star-pav'd. While thus he spake, th'angelic squadron bright Turn'd fiery red, fharp'ning in mooned horns Their phalanx, and began to hem him round With ported spears, as thick as when a field 980 Of Ceres, ripe for harvest,waving bends Her bearded grove of ears, which way the wind Sways them; the careful plowman doubting stands, Lest on the threshing floor his hopeful sheaves Prove chaff. On th'other fide Satan,alarm'd, 985 Collecting all his might,dilated flood, Like Teneriff or Atlas unremov'd: His ftature reach'd the sky, and on his crest What feem'd both spear and fhield: now dreadful deeds Of Heav'n perhaps, or all the elements At least had gone to wrack, diflurb'd and torn 991 995 Hung forth in Heav'n his golden fcales, yet seen Betwixt Aftrea and the Scorpion sign, Wherein all things created firft he weigh'd, The pendulous round earth,with balanc'd air 1000 In counterpoife, now ponders all events, Battels Battels and realms: in these he put two weights, The latter quick up flew, and kick'd the beam; The end of the Fourth Book. T |