Paradise Lost - The Original Classic Edition. Milton Niles John. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Milton Niles John
Издательство: Ingram
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isbn: 9781486410675
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Of fierce extreams, extreams by change more fierce,

       From Beds of raging Fire to starve in Ice Thir soft Ethereal warmth, and there to pine Immovable, infixt, and frozen round,

       Periods of time, thence hurried back to fire. They ferry over this LETHEAN Sound Both to and fro, thir sorrow to augment,

       And wish and struggle, as they pass, to reach

       The tempting stream, with one small drop to loose

       In sweet forgetfulness all pain and woe,

       All in one moment, and so neer the brink;

       But fate withstands, and to oppose th' attempt MEDUSA with GORGONIAN terror guards The Ford, and of it self the water flies

       All taste of living wight, as once it fled

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       The lip of TANTALUS. Thus roving on

       In confus'd march forlorn, th' adventrous Bands With shuddring horror pale, and eyes agast View'd first thir lamentable lot, and found

       No rest: through many a dark and drearie Vaile

       They pass'd, and many a Region dolorous, O're many a Frozen, many a Fierie Alpe,

       Rocks, Caves, Lakes, Fens, Bogs, Dens, and shades of death, A Universe of death, which God by curse

       Created evil, for evil only good,

       Where all life dies, death lives, and nature breeds, Perverse, all monstrous, all prodigious things, Abominable, inutterable, and worse

       Then Fables yet have feign'd, or fear conceiv'd, GORGONS and HYDRA'S, and CHIMERA'S dire. Mean while the Adversary of God and Man, SATAN with thoughts inflam'd of highest design, Puts on swift wings, and toward the Gates of Hell Explores his solitary flight; som times

       He scours the right hand coast, som times the left, Now shaves with level wing the Deep, then soares Up to the fiery concave touring high.

       As when farr off at Sea a Fleet descri'd

       Hangs in the Clouds, by AEQUINOCTIAL Winds

       Close sailing from BENGALA, or the Iles

       Of TERNATE and TIDORE, whence Merchants bring

       Thir spicie Drugs: they on the trading Flood

       Through the wide ETHIOPIAN to the Cape

       Ply stemming nightly toward the Pole. So seem'd

       Farr off the flying Fiend: at last appeer

       Hell bounds high reaching to the horrid Roof,

       And thrice threefold the Gates; three folds were Brass

       Three Iron, three of Adamantine Rock,

       Impenitrable, impal'd with circling fire,

       Yet unconsum'd. Before the Gates there sat

       On either side a formidable shape;

       The one seem'd Woman to the waste, and fair, But ended foul in many a scaly fould Voluminous and vast, a Serpent arm'd

       With mortal sting: about her middle round

       A cry of Hell Hounds never ceasing bark'd

       With wide CERBEREAN mouths full loud, and rung

       A hideous Peal: yet, when they list, would creep, If aught disturb'd thir noyse, into her woomb, And kennel there, yet there still bark'd and howl'd Within unseen. Farr less abhorrd then these

       Vex'd SCYLLA bathing in the Sea that parts CALABRIA from the hoarce TRINACRIAN shore: Nor uglier follow the Night-Hag, when call'd

       In secret, riding through the Air she comes

       Lur'd with the smell of infant blood, to dance

       With LAPLAND Witches, while the labouring Moon

       Eclipses at thir charms. The other shape,

       If shape it might be call'd that shape had none

       Distinguishable in member, joynt, or limb,

       Or substance might be call'd that shadow seem'd, For each seem'd either; black it stood as Night, Fierce as ten Furies, terrible as Hell,

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       And shook a dreadful Dart; what seem'd his head

       The likeness of a Kingly Crown had on. SATAN was now at hand, and from his seat The Monster moving onward came as fast, With horrid strides, Hell trembled as he strode.

       Th' undaunted Fiend what this might be admir'd, Admir'd, not fear'd; God and his Son except, Created thing naught vallu'd he nor shun'd;

       And with disdainful look thus first began. Whence and what art thou, execrable shape, That dar'st, though grim and terrible, advance Thy miscreated Front athwart my way

       To yonder Gates? through them I mean to pass, That be assur'd, without leave askt of thee: Retire, or taste thy folly, and learn by proof,

       Hell-born, not to contend with Spirits of Heav'n. To whom the Goblin full of wrauth reply'd,

       Art thou that Traitor Angel, art thou hee,

       Who first broke peace in Heav'n and Faith, till then

       Unbrok'n, and in proud rebellious Arms

       Drew after him the third part of Heav'ns Sons Conjur'd against the highest, for which both Thou And they outcast from God, are here condemn'd To waste Eternal daies in woe and pain?

       And reck'n'st thou thy self with Spirits of Heav'n, Hell-doomd, and breath'st defiance here and scorn, Where I reign King, and to enrage thee more,

       Thy King and Lord? Back to thy punishment, False fugitive, and to thy speed add wings, Least with a whip of Scorpions I pursue

       Thy lingring, or with one stroke of this Dart Strange horror seise thee, and pangs unfelt before. So spake the grieslie terrour, and in shape,

       So speaking and so threatning, grew ten fold More dreadful and deform: on th' other side Incenc't with indignation SATAN stood Unterrifi'd, and like a Comet burn'd,

       That fires the length of OPHIUCUS huge In th' Artick Sky, and from his horrid hair Shakes Pestilence and Warr. Each at the Head Level'd his deadly aime; thir fatall hands

       No second stroke intend, and such a frown

       Each cast at th' other, as when two black Clouds With Heav'ns Artillery fraught, come rattling on Over the CASPIAN, then stand front to front Hov'ring a space, till Winds the signal blow

       To joyn thir dark Encounter in mid air:

       So frownd the mighty Combatants, that Hell Grew darker at thir frown, so matcht they stood; For never but once more was either like

       To meet so great a foe: and now great deeds Had been achiev'd, whereof all Hell had rung, Had not the Snakie Sorceress that sat

       Fast by Hell Gate, and kept the fatal Key,

       Ris'n, and with hideous outcry rush'd between. O Father, what intends thy hand, she cry'd, Against thy only Son? What fury O Son, Possesses thee to bend that mortal Dart

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       Against thy Fathers head? and know'st for whom; For him who sits above and laughs the while

       At thee ordain'd his drudge, to execute

       What e're his wrath, which he calls Justice, bids, His wrath which one day will destroy ye both. She spake, and at her words the hellish Pest Forbore, then these to her SATAN return'd:

       So strange thy outcry, and thy words so strange Thou interposest, that my sudden hand Prevented spares to tell thee yet by deeds

       What it intends; till first I know of thee,

       What thing thou art, thus double-form'd, and why

       In this infernal Vaile first met thou call'st

       Me Father, and that Fantasm call'st my Son? I know thee not, nor ever saw till now

       Sight more detestable then him and thee.

       T' whom thus the Portress of Hell Gate reply'd; Hast thou forgot me then, and do I seem