第27章 Book 4(7)

Him thus intent ITHURIEL with his Spear Touch'd lightly; for no falshood can endure Touch of Celestial temper, but returns Of force to its own likeness: up he starts Discoverd and surpriz'd. As when a spark Lights on a heap of nitrous Powder, laid Fit for the Tun som Magazin to store Against a rumord Warr, the Smuttie graine With sudden blaze diffus'd, inflames the Aire:

So started up in his own shape the Fiend.

Back stept those two fair Angels half amaz'd So sudden to behold the grieslie King;

Yet thus, unmovd with fear, accost him soon.

Which of those rebell Spirits adjudg'd to Hell Com'st thou, escap'd thy prison, and transform'd, Why satst thou like an enemie in waite Here watching at the head of these that sleep?

Know ye not then said SATAN, filld with scorn, Know ye not me? ye knew me once no mate For you, there sitting where ye durst not soare;

Not to know mee argues your selves unknown, The lowest of your throng; or if ye know, Why ask ye, and superfluous begin Your message, like to end as much in vain?

To whom thus ZEPHON, answering scorn with scorn.

Think not, revolted Spirit, thy shape the same, Or undiminisht brightness, to be known As when thou stoodst in Heav'n upright and pure;

That Glorie then, when thou no more wast good, Departed from thee, and thou resembl'st now Thy sin and place of doom obscure and foule.

But come, for thou, be sure, shalt give account To him who sent us, whose charge is to keep This place inviolable, and these from harm.

So spake the Cherube, and his grave rebuke Severe in youthful beautie, added grace Invincible: abasht the Devil stood, And felt how awful goodness is, and saw Vertue in her shape how lovly, saw, and pin'd His loss; but chiefly to find here observd His lustre visibly impar'd; yet seemd Undaunted. If I must contend, said he, Best with the best, the Sender not the sent, Or all at once; more glorie will be wonn, Or less be lost. Thy fear, said ZEPHON bold, Will save us trial what the least can doe Single against thee wicked, and thence weak.

The Fiend repli'd not, overcome with rage;

But like a proud Steed reind, went hautie on, Chaumping his iron curb: to strive or flie He held it vain; awe from above had quelld His heart, not else dismai'd. Now drew they nigh The western point, where those half-rounding guards Just met, & closing stood in squadron joind Awaiting next command. To whom thir Chief GABRIEL from the Front thus calld aloud.

O friends, I hear the tread of nimble feet Hasting this way, and now by glimps discerne ITHURIEL and ZEPHON through the shade, And with them comes a third of Regal port, But faded splendor wan; who by his gate And fierce demeanour seems the Prince of Hell, Not likely to part hence without contest;

Stand firm, for in his look defiance lours.

He scarce had ended, when those two approachd And brief related whom they brought, wher found, How busied, in what form and posture coucht.

To whom with stern regard thus GABRIEL spake.

Why hast thou, SATAN, broke the bounds prescrib'd To thy transgressions, and disturbd the charge Of others, who approve not to transgress By thy example, but have power and right To question thy bold entrance on this place;

Imploi'd it seems to violate sleep, and those Whose dwelling God hath planted here in bliss?

To whom thus SATAN with contemptuous brow.

GABRIEL, thou hadst in Heav'n th' esteem of wise, And such I held thee; but this question askt Puts me in doubt. Lives ther who loves his pain?

Who would not, finding way, break loose from Hell, Though thither doomd? Thou wouldst thy self, no doubt, And boldly venture to whatever place Farthest from pain, where thou mightst hope to change Torment with ease, & soonest recompence Dole with delight, which in this place I sought;

To thee no reason; who knowst only good, But evil hast not tri'd: and wilt object His will who bound us? let him surer barr His Iron Gates, if he intends our stay In that dark durance: thus much what was askt.

The rest is true, they found me where they say;

But that implies not violence or harme.

Thus hee in scorn. The warlike Angel mov'd, Disdainfully half smiling thus repli'd.

O loss of one in Heav'n to judge of wise, Since SATAN fell, whom follie overthrew, And now returns him from his prison scap't, Gravely in doubt whether to hold them wise Or not, who ask what boldness brought him hither Unlicenc't from his bounds in Hell prescrib'd;

So wise he judges it to fly from pain However, and to scape his punishment.