Discover'd in his fraud, thrown from his hope
So oft, and the persuasive rhetoric
That sleek't his tongue, and won so much on Eve,
So little here,-nay, lost: but Eve was Eve;
This, far his over-match, who, self-deceiv'd
And rash, before-hand had no better weigh'd
The strength he was to cope with, or his own.
But as a man who had been matchless held
In cunning, over-reach't where least he thought,
To salve his credit, and for very spite,
Still will be tempting him who foils him still,
And never cease, though to his shame the more;
Or as a swarm of flies in vintage time,
About the wine-press where sweet must is pour'd,
Beat off, returns as oft with humming sound;
Or surging waves against a solid rock,
Though all to shivers dash't, the assault renew,—
Vain batt'ry!-and in froth or bubbles end;—-
So Satan, whom repulse upon repulse
Met ever, and to shameful silence brought,
Yet gives not o'er, though desperate of success,
And his vain importunity pursues.
He brought our Saviour to the western side
Of that high mountain, whence he might behold
Another plain, long, but in breadth not wide,
Wash't by the southern sea; and, on the north,
To equal length back'd with a ridge of hills,
That screen'd the fruits of the earth and seats of men
From cold Septentrion blasts; thence in the midst
Divided by a river, of whose banks
On each side an imperial city stood,
With towrs and temples proudly elevate
On seven small hills, with palaces adorn'd,
Porches, and theatres, baths, aqueducts,
Statues, and trophies, and triumphal arcs,
Gardens, and groves,-presented to his eyes,
Above the highth of mountains interpos'd;--
By what strange parallax, or optic skill
Of vision, multipli'd through air, or glass
Of telescope, were curious to inquire.
And now the Tempter thus his silence broke: "The city which thou seest no other deem
Than great and glorious Rome, queen of the Earth,
So far renown'd, and with the spoils enricht
Of nations. There the Capitol thou seest,
Above the rest lifting his stately head
On the Tarpeian rock, her citadel
Impregnable; and there Mount Palatine,
The imperial palace, compass huge, and high
The structure, skill of noblest architects,
With gilded battlements conspicuous far,
Turrets, and terraces, and glittering spires:
Many a fair edifice besides, more like
Houses of gods, (so well I have dispos'd
My aery microscope,) thou may'st behold,
Outside and inside both, pillars and roofs,
Carv'd work, the hand of fam'd artificers,
In cedar, marble, ivory, or gold.
Thence to the gates cast round thine eye,
What conflux issuing forth, or entering in:
Prætors, pro-consuls, to their provinces
Hasting, or on return, in robes of state;
Lictors and rods, the ensigns of their power;
Legions and cohorts, turms of horse and wings:
Or embassies from regions far remote,
In various habits, on the Appian road,
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Or on the Emilian;-some from farthest south,
Syene, and, where the shadow both way falls,
Meroe, Nilotic ile; and, more to west,
The realm of Bocchus to the Black-moor sea ;
From the Asian kings, and Parthian among these ;-
From India and the golden Chersonese,
And utmost Indian ile Taprobane,
Dusk faces with white silken turbants wreath'd ;--
From Gallia, Gades, and the British west;-
Germans, and Scythians, and Sarmatians, north
Beyond Danubius to the Tauric pool.
All nations now to Rome obedience pay,
To Rome's great emperor, whose wide domain,
In ample territory, wealth, and power,
Civility of manners, arts, and arms,
And long renown, thou justly may'st prefer
Before the Parthian. These two thrones except,
The rest are barbarous, and scarce worth the sight,
Shar'd among petty kings too far remov'd:
These having shown thee, I have shown thee all
The kingdoms of the world, and all their glory.
This emperor hath no son, and now is old,—
Old and lascivious, and from Rome retir'd
To Capreæ, an island small, but strong,
On the Campanian shore, with purpose there
His horrid lusts in private to enjoy ;
Committing to a wicked favourite
All public cares, and yet of him suspicious,--
Hated of all, and hating. With what ease,
Endu'd with regal virtues as thou art,
Appearing, and beginning noble deeds,
Might'st thou expel this monster from his throne,
Now made a sty; and, in his place ascending,
A victor people free from servile yoke!
And with my help thou may'st; to me the power
Is given, and by that right I give it thee.
Aim therefore at no less than all the world;
Aim at the highest: without the highest attain'd,
Will be for thee no sitting, or not long,
On David's throne, be prophesi'd what will."
To whom the Son of God, unmov'd, repli'd:
"Nor doth this grandeur and majestic show
Of luxury, though call'd magnificence,
More than of arms before, allure mine eye,
Much less my mind; though thou should'st add to tell
Their sumptuous gluttonies, and gorgeous feasts
On citron tables or Atlantic stone,
(For I have also heard, perhaps have read);
Their wines of Setia, Cales, and Falerne,
Chios and Crete; and how they quaff in gold,
Crystal, and myrrhine cups, emboss'd with gems
And studs of pearl ;-to me should'st tell, who thirst
And hunger still. Then embassies thou show'st
From nations far and nigh: what honour that?
But tedious waste of time, to sit and hear
So many hollow compliments and lies,
Outlandish flatteries? Then proceed'st to talk
Of the emperor, how easily subdu'd,
How gloriously: I shall, thou say'st, expel
A brutish monster;-what if I withal
Expel a Devil who first made him such?
Let his tormentor, conscience, find him out;
For him I was not sent: nor yet to free
That people, victor once, now vile and base
Deservedly made vassal; who, once just,
Frugal, and mild, and temperate, conquer'd well,
But govern ill the nations under yoke,
Peeling their provinces, exhausted all
By lust and rapine; first ambitious grown
Of triumph, that insulting vanity;
Then cruel, by their sports to blood inur'd
Of fighting beasts, and men to beasts expos'd;
Luxurious by their wealth, and greedier still,
And from the daily scene effeminate.
What wise and valiant man would seek to free
These, thus degenerate, by themselves enslav'd?
Or could of inward slaves make outward free?
Know, therefore, when my season comes to sit
On David's throne, it shall be like a tree
Spreading and overshadowing all the Earth;
Or as a stone that shall to pieces dash
All monarchies besides throughout the world;
And of my kingdom there shall be no end:
Is not for thee to know, nor me to tell."
Means there shall be to this; but what the means,
To whom the Tempter, impudent, repli'd :
"I see all offers made by me how slight
Thou valu'st, because offer'd, and reject'st:
Nothing will please the difficult and nice,
Or nothing more than still to contradict.
On the other side, know also thou, that I
On what I offer set as high esteem,
Nor what I part with mean to give for naught.
All these, which in a moment thou behold'st,
The kingdoms of the world, to thee I give,—
For, giv❜n to me, I give to whom I please,-
No trifle; yet with this reserve, not else,
On this condition,-if thou wilt fall down,
And worship me as thy superior lord,
(Easily done,) and hold them all of me;
For what can less so great a gift deserve!"
Whom thus our Saviour answer'd with disdain :
"I never lik'd thy talk, thy offers less;
Now both abhor, since thou hast dar'd to utter
The abominable terms,―impious condition :
But I endure the time, till which expir'd
Thou hast permission on me.
The first of all commandments, 'Thou shalt worship
The Lord thy God, and only him shalt serve;'
And dar'st thou to the Son of God propound
To worship thee accurst? now more accurst
For this attempt, bolder than that on Eve,
And more blasphemous; which expect to rue.-
The kingdoms of the world to thee were giv'n!
Permitted rather, and by thee usurp't;
Other donation none thou canst produce.
If given, by whom but by the King of kings,
God over all supreme? If giv'n to thee,
By thee how fairly is the Giver now
Repaid! But gratitude in thee is lost
Long since. Wert thou so void of fear or shame,
As offer them to me, the Son of God,
To me my own, on such abhorred pact,
That I fall down and worship thee as God?
Get thee behind me; plain thou now appear'st
That Evil one, Satan for ever damn'd."
To whom the Fiend, with fear abasht, repli'd :
"Be not so sore offended, Son of God!-
Though sons of God both angels are and men,--
If I, to try whether in higher sort
Than these thou bear'st that title, have propos'd
What both from men and angels I receive,-
Tetrarchs of fire, air, flood, and on the earth,-
Nations beside from all the quarter'd winds,--
God of this world invok't, and world beneath:
Who then thou art, whose coming is foretold
To me most fatal, me it most concerns:
The trial hath indamag'd thee no way,-
Rather more honour left, and more esteem;
Me nought advantag'd, missing what I aim'd.
Therefore let pass, as they are transitory,
The kingdoms of this world; I shall no more
Advise thee; gain them as thou canst, or not:
And thou thyself seem'st otherwise inclin'd
As by that early action may be judg'd,
When, slipping from thy mother's eye, thou went'st
Alone into the temple; there wast found
Among the gravest Rabbies, disputant
On points and questions fitting Moses' chair,—
Teaching, not taught. The childhood shews the man,
As morning shews the day: be famous then
By wisdom; as thy empire must extend,
So let extend thy mind o'er all the world
In knowledge, all things in it comprehend.
All knowledge is not couch't in Moses' Law,
The Pentateuch, or what the prophets wrote:
The Gentiles also know, and write, and teach
To admiration, led by Nature's light;
And with the Gentiles much thou must converse,
Ruling them by persuasion, as thou mean'st.
Without their learning, how wilt thou with them,
Or they with thee, hold conversation meet?
How wilt thou reason with them, how refute
Their idolisms, traditions, paradoxes?
Error by his own arms is best evinc't.--
Look once more, ere we leave this specular mount,
Westward, much nearer by south-west; behold!
Where on the Ægean shore a city stands,
Built nobly,-pure the air, and light the soil,—
Athens, the eye of Greece, mother of arts
And eloquence, native to famous wits,
Or hospitable, in her sweet recess,
City or suburban, studious walks and shades.
See there the olive grove of Academe,
Plato's retirement, where the Attic bird
Trills her thick-warbl'd notes the summer long;
There flowery hill Hymettus, with the sound
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