The Complete Poetry of John Milton (118 page)

   850     
All things with double terror: On the ground

               
Outstretcht he lay, on the cold ground, and oft

               
Curs’d his Creation, Death as oft accus’d

               
Of tardie execution, since denounc’t

               
The day of his offence. Why comes not Death,

   855     
Said hee, with one thrice acceptable stroke

               
To end me? Shall Truth fail to keep her word,

               
Justice Divine not hast’n to be just?

               
But Death comes not at call, Justice Divine

               
Mends not her slowest pace for prayers or cries.

   860     
O Woods, O Fountains, Hillocks, Dales and Bowrs,

               
With other echo late I taught your Shades

               
To answer, and resound farr other Song.

               
Whom thus afflicted when sad
Eve
beheld,

               
Desolate where she sate, approaching nigh,

   865     
Soft words to his fierce passion she assay’d:

               
But her with stern regard he thus repell’d.

           
      
       Out of my sight, thou Serpent,
⁸³
that name best

               
Befits thee with him leagu’d, thy self as false

               
And hateful; nothing wants, but that thy shape,

   870     
Like his, and colour Serpentine
⁸⁴
may shew

               
Thy inward fraud, to warn all Creatures from thee

               
Henceforth; least that too heav’nly form, pretended
⁸⁵

               
To hellish falshood, snare them. But for thee

               
I had persisted happie, had not thy pride

   875     
And wandring vanitie, when lest was safe,

               
Rejected my forewarning, and disdain’d

               
Not to be trusted, longing to be seen

               
Though by the Devil himself, him overweening

               
To over-reach, but with the Serpent meeting

   880     
Fool’d and beguil’d, by him thou, I by thee,

               
To trust thee from my side, imagin’d wise,

               
Constant, mature, proof against all assaults,

               
And understood not all was but a shew

               
Rather then solid vertu, all but a Rib

   885     
Crooked by nature, bent, as now appears,

               
More to the part sinister
⁸⁶
from me drawn,

               
Well if thrown out, as supernumerarie

               
To my just number found. O why did God,

               
Creator wise, that peopl’d highest Heav’n

   890     
With Spirits Masculine, create at last

               
This noveltie on Earth, this fair defect

               
Of Nature, and not fill the World at once

               
With Men as Angels without Feminine,

               
Or find some other way to generate

   895     
Mankind? this mischief had not then befall’n,

               
And more that shall befall, innumerable

               
Disturbances on Earth through Femal snares,

               
And straight conjunction with this Sex: for either

               
He never shall find out fit Mate, but such

   900     
As some misfortune brings him, or mistake,

               
Or whom he wishes most shall seldom gain

               
Through her perversness, but shall see her gaind

               
By a farr worse, or if she love, withheld

               
By Parents, or his happiest choice too late

   905     
Shall meet, alreadie linkt and Wedlock-bound

               
To a fell Adversarie, his hate or shame:

               
Which infinite calamitie shall cause

               
To Human life, and houshold peace confound.

           
      
       He added not, and from her turn’d, but
Eve

   910     
Not so repulst, with Tears that ceas’d not flowing,

               
And tresses all disorderd, at his feet

               
Fell humble, and imbracing them, besaught

               
His peace, and thus proceeded in her plaint.

           
      
       Forsake me not thus,
Adam
, witness Heav’n

   915     
What love sincere, and reverence in my heart

               
I bear thee, and unweeting have offended,

               
Unhappilie deceav’d; thy suppliant

               
I beg, and clasp thy knees; bereave me not,

               
Whereon I live, thy gentle looks, thy aid,

   920     
Thy counsel in this uttermost distress,

               
My onely strength and stay: forlorn of thee,

               
Whither shall I betake me, where subsist?

               
While yet we live, scarse one short hour perhaps,

               
Between us two let there be peace, both joyning,

   925     
As joyn’d in injuries, one enmitie

               
Against a Foe by doom express assign’d us,

               
That cruel Serpent: On me exercise not

               
Thy hatred for this miserie befall’n,

               
On me already lost, mee then thy self

   930     
More miserable; both have sin’d, but thou

               
Against God onely, I against God and thee,
⁸⁷

               
And to the place of judgment will return,

               
There with my cries importune Heav’n, that all

               
The sentence from thy head remov’d may light

   935     
On me, sole cause to thee of all this woe,

               
Mee mee onely just object of his ire.

           
      
       She ended weeping, and her lowlie plight,

               
Immoveable till peace obtain’d from fault

               
Acknowledg’d and deplor’d, in
Adam
wraught

   940     
Commiseration; soon his heart relented

               
Towards her, his life so late and sole delight,

               
Now at his feet submissive in distress,

               
Creature so fair his reconcilement seeking,

               
His counsel whom she had displeas’d, his aid;

   945     
As one disarm’d, his anger all he lost,

               
And thus with peaceful words uprais’d her soon.

           
      
       Unwarie, and too desirous, as before,

               
So now of what thou knowst not, who desir’st

               
The punishment all on thy self; alas,

   950     
Bear thine own first, ill able to sustain

               
His full wrauth whose thou feelst as yet lest part,

               
And my displeasure bearst so ill. If Prayers

               
Could alter high Decrees, I to that place

               
Would speed before thee, and be louder heard,

   955     
That on my head all might be visited,

               
Thy frailtie and infirmer Sex forgiv’n,

               
To me committed and by me expos’d.

               
But rise, let us no more contend, nor blame

               
Each other, blam’d enough elsewhere, but strive

   960     
In offices of Love, how we may light’n

               
Each others burden in our share of woe;

               
Since this days Death denounc’t, if ought I see,

               
Will prove no sudden, but a slow-pac’t evill,

               
A long days dying to augment our pain,

   965     
And to our Seed (O hapless Seed!) deriv’d.

           
      
       To whom thus
Eve
, recovering heart, repli’d.

               
Adam
, by sad experiment I know

               
How little weight my words with thee can find,

               
Found so erroneous, thence by just event

   970     
Found so unfortunate; nevertheless,

               
Restor’d by thee, vile as I am, to place

               
Of new acceptance, hopeful to regain

               
Thy Love, the sole contentment of my heart,

               
Living or dying, from thee I will not hide

   975     
What thoughts in my unquiet brest are ris’n,

               
Tending to som relief of our extremes,

               
Or end, though sharp and sad, yet tolerable,

               
As in our evils,
⁸⁸
and of easier choice.

               
If care of our descent perplex us most,

   980     
Which must be born to certain woe, devourd

               
By Death at last, and miserable it is

               
To be to others cause of misery,

               
Our own begotten, and of our Loins to bring

               
Into this cursed World a woful Race,

   985     
That after wretched Life must be at last

               
Food for so foul a Monster, in thy power

               
It lies, yet ere Conception to prevent

               
The Race unblest, to being yet unbegot.

               
Childless thou art, Childless remain: so Death

   990     
Shall be deceav’d his glut, and with us two

               
Be forc’d to satisfie his Rav’nous Maw.

               
But if thou judge it hard and difficult,

               
Conversing, looking, loving, to abstain

               
From Loves due Rites, Nuptial imbraces sweet,

   995     
And with desire to languish without hope,

               
Before the present object
⁸⁹
languishing

               
With like desire, which would be miserie

               
And torment less then none of what we dread,

               
Then both our selves and Seed at once to free

   1000   
From what we fear for both, let us make short,

               
Let us seek Death, or he not found, supply

               
With our own hands his Office on our selves;

               
Why stand we longer shivering under feares,

               
That shew no end but Death, and have the power,

   1005   
Of many ways to die the shortest choosing,

               
Destruction with destruction to destroy.

            
      
       She ended heer, or vehement despair

               
Broke off the rest; so much of Death her thoughts

               
Had entertaind, as di’d her Cheeks with pale.