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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several Clanns,

       Light-arm'd or heavy, sharp, smooth, swift or slow, Swarm populous, unnumber'd as the Sands

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       Of BARCA or CYRENE'S torrid soil,

       Levied to side with warring Winds, and poise Thir lighter wings. To whom these most adhere, Hee rules a moment; CHAOS Umpire sits,

       And by decision more imbroiles the fray

       By which he Reigns: next him high Arbiter CHANCE governs all. Into this wilde Abyss, The Womb of nature and perhaps her Grave, Of neither Sea, nor Shore, nor Air, nor Fire, But all these in thir pregnant causes mixt Confus'dly, and which thus must ever fight, Unless th' Almighty Maker them ordain

       His dark materials to create more Worlds,

       Into this wilde Abyss the warie fiend

       Stood on the brink of Hell and look'd a while, Pondering his Voyage; for no narrow frith

       He had to cross. Nor was his eare less peal'd

       With noises loud and ruinous (to compare

       Great things with small) then when BELLONA storms, With all her battering Engines bent to rase

       Som Capital City, or less then if this frame Of Heav'n were falling, and these Elements In mutinie had from her Axle torn

       The stedfast Earth. At last his Sail-broad Vannes He spreads for flight, and in the surging smoak Uplifted spurns the ground, thence many a League As in a cloudy Chair ascending rides

       Audacious, but that seat soon failing, meets

       A vast vacuitie: all unawares

       Fluttring his pennons vain plumb down he drops Ten thousand fadom deep, and to this hour Down had been falling, had not by ill chance

       The strong rebuff of som tumultuous cloud

       Instinct with Fire and Nitre hurried him As many miles aloft: that furie stay'd, Quencht in a Boggie SYRTIS, neither Sea,

       Nor good dry Land: nigh founderd on he fares, Treading the crude consistence, half on foot,

       Half flying; behoves him now both Oare and Saile.

       As when a Gryfon through the Wilderness With winged course ore Hill or moarie Dale, Pursues the ARIMASPIAN, who by stelth Had from his wakeful custody purloind

       The guarded Gold: So eagerly the fiend

       Ore bog or steep, through strait, rough, dense, or rare, With head, hands, wings, or feet pursues his way,

       And swims or sinks, or wades, or creeps, or flyes:

       At length a universal hubbub wilde

       Of stunning sounds and voices all confus'd Born through the hollow dark assaults his eare With loudest vehemence: thither he plyes, Undaunted to meet there what ever power

       Or Spirit of the nethermost Abyss

       Might in that noise reside, of whom to ask Which way the neerest coast of darkness lyes Bordering on light; when strait behold the Throne Of CHAOS, and his dark Pavilion spread

       Wide on the wasteful Deep; with him Enthron'd

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       Sat Sable-vested Night, eldest of things,

       The consort of his Reign; and by them stood

       ORCUS and ADES, and the dreaded name

       Of DEMOGORGON; Rumor next and Chance, And Tumult and Confusion all imbroild,

       And Discord with a thousand various mouths.

       T' whom SATAN turning boldly, thus. Ye Powers

       And Spirits of this nethermost Abyss,

       CHAOS and ANCIENT NIGHT, I come no Spie, With purpose to explore or to disturb

       The secrets of your Realm, but by constraint

       Wandring this darksome desart, as my way

       Lies through your spacious Empire up to light, Alone, and without guide, half lost, I seek

       What readiest path leads where your gloomie bounds

       Confine with Heav'n; or if som other place From your Dominion won, th' Ethereal King Possesses lately, thither to arrive

       I travel this profound, direct my course; Directed, no mean recompence it brings To your behoof, if I that Region lost,

       All usurpation thence expell'd, reduce To her original darkness and your sway (Which is my present journey) and once more

       Erect the Standerd there of ANCIENT NIGHT; Yours be th' advantage all, mine the revenge.

       Thus SATAN; and him thus the Anarch old With faultring speech and visage incompos'd Answer'd. I know thee, stranger, who thou art, That mighty leading Angel, who of late

       Made head against Heav'ns King, though overthrown. I saw and heard, for such a numerous host

       Fled not in silence through the frighted deep

       With ruin upon ruin, rout on rout,

       Confusion worse confounded; and Heav'n Gates Pourd out by millions her victorious Bands Pursuing. I upon my Frontieres here

       Keep residence; if all I can will serve, That little which is left so to defend

       Encroacht on still through our intestine broiles Weakning the Scepter of old Night: first Hell Your dungeon stretching far and wide beneath; Now lately Heaven and Earth, another World Hung ore my Realm, link'd in a golden Chain

       To that side Heav'n from whence your Legions fell: If that way be your walk, you have not farr;

       So much the neerer danger; goe and speed; Havock and spoil and ruin are my gain.

       He ceas'd; and SATAN staid not to reply,

       But glad that now his Sea should find a shore,

       With fresh alacritie and force renew'd

       Springs upward like a Pyramid of fire

       Into the wilde expanse, and through the shock Of fighting Elements, on all sides round Environ'd wins his way; harder beset

       And more endanger'd, then when ARGO pass'd Through BOSPORUS betwixt the justling Rocks: Or when ULYSSES on the Larbord shunnd

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       CHARYBDIS, and by th' other whirlpool steard.

       So he with difficulty and labour hard

       Mov'd on, with difficulty and labour hee;

       But hee once past, soon after when man fell, Strange alteration! Sin and Death amain Following his track, such was the will of Heav'n, Pav'd after him a broad and beat'n way

       Over the dark Abyss, whose boiling Gulf Tamely endur'd a Bridge of wondrous length From Hell continu'd reaching th' utmost Orbe

       Of this frail World; by which the Spirits perverse

       With easie intercourse pass to and fro

       To tempt or punish mortals, except whom God and good Angels guard by special grace. But now at last the sacred influence

       Of light appears, and from the walls of Heav'n

       Shoots farr into the bosom of dim Night

       A glimmering dawn; here Nature first begins

       Her fardest verge, and CHAOS to retire As from her outmost works a brok'n foe With tumult less and with less hostile din,

       That SATAN with less toil, and now with ease

       Wafts on the calmer wave by dubious light

       And like a weather-beaten Vessel holds

       Gladly the Port, though Shrouds and Tackle torn; Or in the emptier waste, resembling Air,

       Weighs his spread wings, at leasure to behold Farr off th' Empyreal Heav'n, extended wide In circuit, undetermind square or round,

       With Opal Towrs and Battlements adorn'd Of living Saphire, once his native Seat; And fast by hanging in a golden Chain This pendant world, in bigness as a Starr

       Of