The Complete Poetry of John Milton (123 page)

   425     
In some to spring from thee, who never touch’d

               
Th’ excepted Tree, nor with the Snake conspir’d,

               
Nor sinn’d thy sin, yet from that sin derive

               
Corruption to bring forth more violent deeds.

           
      
       His eyes he op’n’d, and beheld a field,

   430     
Part arable and tilth, whereon were Sheaves

               
New reapt, the other part sheep-walks and foulds;

               
Ith’ midst an Altar as the Land-mark stood

               
Rustic, of grassie sord;
³⁷
thither anon

               
A sweatie Reaper
³⁸
from his Tillage brought

   435     
First Fruits, the green Ear, and the yellow Sheaf,

               
Uncull’d,
³⁹
as came to hand; a Shepherd next

               
More meek came with the Firstlings of his Flock

               
Choicest and best; then sacrificing, laid

               
The Inwards and thir Fat, with Incense strew’d,

   440     
On the cleft Wood, and all due Rites perform’d.

               
His Offring soon propitious Fire from Heav’n

               
Consum’d with nimble glance, and grateful steam;

               
The others not, for his was not sincere;

               
Whereat hee inlie rag’d, and as they talk’d,

   445     
Smote him into the Midriff with a stone

               
That beat out life; he fell, and deadly pale

               
Groand out his Soul with gushing bloud effus’d.

               
Much at that sight was
Adam
in his heart

               
Dismai’d, and thus in haste to th’ Angel cri’d.

   450  
      
       O Teacher, some great mischief hath befall’n

               
To that meek man, who well had sacrific’d;

               
Is Pietie thus and pure Devotion paid?

           
      
       T’ whom
Michael
thus, hee also mov’d, repli’d.

               
These two are Brethren,
Adam
, and to come

   455     
Out of thy loyns; th’ unjust the just hath slain,

               
For envie that his Brothers Offering found

               
From Heav’n acceptance; but the bloodie Fact

               
Will be aveng’d, and th’ others Faith approv’d

               
Loose no reward, though here thou see him die,

   460     
Rowling in dust and gore. To which our Sire.

           
      
       Alas, both for the deed and for the cause!

               
But have I now seen Death? Is this the way

               
I must return to native dust? O sight

               
Of terrour, foul and ugly to behold,

   465     
Horrid to think, how horrible to feel!

           
      
       To whom thus
Michael.
Death thou hast seen

               
In his first shape on man; but many shapes

               
Of Death, and many are the wayes that lead

               
To his grim Cave, all dismal; yet to sense

   470     
More terrible at th’ entrance then within.

               
Some, as thou saw’st, by violent stroke shall die,

               
By Fire, Flood, Famin, by Intemperance more

               
In Meats and Drinks, which on the Earth shall bring

               
Diseases dire, of which a monstrous crew

   475     
Before thee shall appear; that thou mayst know

               
What miserie th’ inabstinence of
Eve

               
Shall bring on men. Immediately a place

               
Before his eyes appeard, sad, noysom, dark,

               
A Lazar-house it seemd, wherein were laid

   480     
Numbers of all diseas’d, all maladies

               
Of gastly Spasm, or racking torture, qualmes

               
Of heart-sick Agonie, all feavourous kinds,

               
Convulsions, Epilepsies, fierce Catarrhs,

               
Intestin Stone and Ulcer, Colic pangs,

   485     
Dæmoniac Phrenzie, moaping Melancholie

               
And Moon-struck madness, pining Atrophie,

               
Marasmus,
⁴⁰
and wide-wasting Pestilence,

               
Dropsies, and Asthmas, and Joint-racking Rheums.

               
Dire was the tossing, deep the groans, despair

   490     
Tended the sick busiest from Couch to Couch;

               
And over them triumphant Death his Dart

               
Shook, but delaid to strike, though oft invok’t

               
With vows, as thir chief good, and final hope.

               
Sight so deform what heart of Rock could long

   495     
Drie-ey’d behold?
Adam
could not, but wept,

               
Though not of Woman born; compassion quell’d

               
His best of Man, and gave him up to tears

               
A space, till firmer thoughts restraind excess,

               
And scarce recovering words his plaint renew’d.

   500  
      
       O miserable Mankind, to what fall

               
Degraded, to what wretched state reserv’d!

               
Better end heer unborn. Why is life giv’n

               
To be thus wrested from us? rather why

               
Obtruded on us thus? who if we knew

   505     
What we receive, would either not accept

               
Life offer’d, or soon beg to lay it down,

               
Glad to be so dismist in peace. Can thus

               
Th’ Image of God in man created once

               
So goodly and erect, though faultie since,

   510     
To such unsightly sufferings be debas’t

               
Under inhuman pains? Why should not Man,

               
Retaining still Divine similitude

               
In part, from such deformities be free,

               
And for his Makers Image sake exempt?

   515  
      
       Thir Makers Image, answerd
Michael
, then

               
Forsook them, when themselves they villifi’d

               
To serve ungovern’d appetite, and took

               
His Image
⁴¹
whom they serv’d, a brutish vice,

               
Inductive mainly to the sin of
Eve.

   520     
Therefore so abject is thir punishment,

               
Disfiguring not Gods likeness, but thir own,

               
Or if his likeness, by themselves defac’t

               
While they pervert pure Natures healthful rules

               
To loathsom sickness, worthily, since they

   525     
Gods Image did not reverence in themselves.

           
      
       I yeild it just, said
Adam
, and submit.

               
But is there yet no other way, besides

               
These painful passages, how we may come

               
To Death, and mix with our connatural dust?

   530  
      
       There is, said
Michael
, if thou well observe

               
The rule of not too much, by temperance taught

               
In what thou eatst and drinkst, seeking from thence

               
Due nourishment, not gluttonous delight,

               
Till many years over thy head return:

   535     
So maist thou live, till like ripe Fruit thou drop

               
Into thy Mothers lap, or be with ease

               
Gatherd, not harshly pluckt, for death mature:

               
This is old age; but then thou must outlive

               
Thy youth, thy strength, thy beauty, which will change

   540     
To witherd weak and gray; thy Senses then

               
Obtuse, all taste of pleasure must forgoe,

               
To what thou hast, and for the Air of youth

               
Hopeful and cheerful, in thy blood will reigne

               
A melancholly damp of cold and dry
⁴²

   545     
To waigh thy spirits down, and last consume

               
The Balm of Life. To whom our Ancestor.

           
      
       Henceforth I flie not Death, nor would prolong

               
Life much, bent rather how I may be quit

               
Fairest and easiest of this combrous charge,

   550     
Which I must keep till my appointed day

               
Of rendring up, and patiently attend
⁴³

               
My dissolution.
Michael
repli’d,

           
      
       Nor love thy Life, nor hate; but what thou liv’st

               
Live well, how long or short permit to Heav’n:

   555     
And now prepare thee for another sight.

           
      
       He look’d and saw a spacious Plain,
⁴⁴
whereon

               
Were Tents of various hue; by some were herds

               
Of Cattel grazing: others, whence the sound

               
Of Instruments that made melodious chime

   560     
Was heard, of Harp and Organ; and who moov’d

               
Thir stops and chords was seen: his volant touch

               
Instinct
⁴⁵
through all proportions low and high

               
Fled and pursu’d transverse the resonant fugue.

               
In other part stood one who at the Forge

   565     
Labouring, two massie clods of Iron and Brass

               
Had melted (whether found where casual fire

               
Had wasted woods on Mountain or in Vale,

               
Down to the veins of Earth, thence gliding hot

               
To som Caves mouth, or whether washt by stream

   570     
From underground) the liquid Ore he dreind

               
Into fit moulds prepar’d; from which he formd

               
First his own Tools; then, what might else be wrought

               
Fusil
⁴⁶
or grav’n in mettle. After these,

               
But on the hether side a different sort
⁴⁷

   575     
From the high neighbouring Hills, which was thir Seat,

               
Down to the Plain descended: by thir guise

               
Just men they seemd, and all thir study bent

               
To worship God aright, and know his works

               
Not hid, nor those things last which might preserve