John Milton - Paradise Lost and Its Sequel, Paradise Regained (Illustrated Edition)

Thrones and imperial Powers, off-spring of heav’n,

Ethereal Vertues; or these Titles now

Must we renounce, and changing stile be call’d

Princes of Hell? for so the popular vote

Inclines, here to continue, and build up here

A growing Empire; doubtless; while we dream,

And know not that the King of Heav’n hath doom’d

This place our dungeon, not our safe retreat

Beyond his Potent arm, to live exempt

From Heav’ns high jurisdiction, in new League

Banded against his Throne, but to remaine

In strictest bondage, though thus far remov’d,

Under th’ inevitable curb, reserv’d

His captive multitude: For he, be sure,

In highth or depth, still first and last will Reign

Sole King, and of his Kingdom loose no part

By our revolt, but over Hell extend

His Empire, and with Iron Scepter rule

Us here, as with his Golden those in Heav’n.

What sit we then projecting Peace and Warr?

Warr hath determin’d us, and foild with loss

Irreparable; tearms of peace yet none

Voutsaf’t or sought; for what peace will be giv’n

To us enslav’d, but custody severe,

And stripes, and arbitrary punishment

Inflicted? and what peace can we return,

But to our power hostility and hate,

Untam’d reluctance, and revenge though slow,

Yet ever plotting how the Conquerour least

May reap his conquest, and may least rejoyce

In doing what we most in suffering feel?

Nor will occasion want, nor shall we need

With dangerous expedition to invade

Heav’n, whose high walls fear no assault or Siege,

Or ambush from the Deep. What if we find

Some easier enterprize? There is a place

(If ancient and prophetic fame in Heav’n

Err not) another World, the happy seat

Of som new Race call’d Man, about this time

To be created like to us, though less

In power and excellence, but favour’d more

Of him who rules above; so was his will

Pronounc’d among the Gods, and by an Oath,

That shook Heav’ns whol circumference, confirm’d.

Thither let us bend all our thoughts, to learn

What creatures there inhabit, of what mould,

Or substance, how endu’d, and what thir Power,

And where thir weakness, how attempted best,

By force or suttlety: Though Heav’n be shut,

And Heav’ns high Arbitrator sit secure

In his own strength, this place may lye expos’d

The utmost border of his Kingdom, left

To their defence who hold it: here perhaps

Som advantagious act may be achiev’d

By sudden onset, either Hell fire

To waste his whole Creation, or posses

All as our own, and drive as we were driven,

The punie habitants, or if not drive,

Seduce them to our Party, that thir God

May prove thir foe, and with repenting hand

Abolish his own works. This would surpass

Common revenge, and interrupt his joy

In our Confusion, and our Joy upraise

In his disturbance; when his darling Sons

Hurl’d headlong to partake with us, shall curse

Thir frail Originals, and and faded bliss,

Faded so soon. Advise if this be worth

Attempting, or to sit in darkness here

Hatching or Empires. Thus Beelzebub

Pleaded his devilish Counsel, first devis’d

By Satan, and in part propos’d: for whence,

But from the Author of all ill could Spring

So deep a malice, to confound the race

Of mankind in one root, and Earth with Hell

To mingle and involve, done all to spite

The great Creatour? But thir spite still serves

His glory to augment. The bold design

Pleas’d highly those infernal States, and joy

Sparkl’d in all thir eyes; with full assent

They vote: whereat his speech he thus renews.

Well have ye judg’d, well ended long debate,

Synod of Gods, and like to what ye are,

Great things resolv’d; which from the lowest deep

Will once more lift us up, in spight of Fate,

Neerer our ancient Seat; perhaps in view

Of those bright confines, whence with neighbouring Arms

And opportune excursion we may chance

Re-enter Heav’n; or else in some milde Zone

Dwell not unvisited of Heav’ns fair Light

Secure, and at the brightning Orient beam

Purge off this gloom; the soft delicious Air,

To heal the scarr of these corrosive Fires

Shall breath her balme. But first whom shall we send

In search of this new world, whom shall we find

Sufficient? who shall tempt with wandring feet

The dark unbottom’d infinite Abyss

And through the palpable obscure find out

His uncouth way, or spread his aerie flight

Upborn with indefatigable wings

Over the vast abrupt, ere he arrive

The happy Ile; what strength, what art can then

Suffice, or what evasion bear him safe

Through the strict Senteries and Stations thick

Of Angels watching round? Here he had need

All circumspection, and wee now no less

Choice in our suffrage; for on whom we send,

The weight of all and our last hope relies.

This said, he sat; and expectation held

His look suspence, awaiting who appeer’d

To second, or oppose, or undertake

The perilous attempt; but all sat mute,

Pondering the danger with deep thoughts; and each

In others count’nance red his own dismay

Astonisht: none among the choice and prime

Of those Heav’n-warring Champions could be found

So hardie as to proffer or accept

Alone the dreadful voyage; till at last

Satan, whom now transcendent glory rais’d

Above his fellows, with Monarchal pride

Conscious of highest worth, unmov’d thus spake.

O Progeny of Heav’n, Empyreal Thrones,