Paradise Lost. John Milton

      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 we 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; & 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,

      With reason hath deep silence and demurr

      Seis’d us, though undismaid: long is the way

      And hard, that out of Hell leads up to Light;

      Our prison strong, this huge convex of Fire,

      Outrageous to devour, immures us round

      Ninefold, and gates of burning Adamant

      Barr’d over us prohibit all egress.

      These past, if any pass, the void profound

      Of unessential Night receives him next

      Wide gaping, and with utter loss of being

      Threatens him, plung’d in that abortive gulf.

      If thence he scape into what ever world,

      Or unknown Region, what remains him less

      Then unknown dangers and as hard escape.

      But I should ill become this Throne, O Peers,

      And this Imperial Sov’ranty, adorn’d

      With splendor, arm’d with power, if aught propos’d

      And judg’d of public moment, in the shape

      Of difficulty or danger could deterre

      Me from attempting. Wherefore do I assume

      These Royalties, and not refuse to Reign,

      Refusing to accept as great a share

      Of hazard as of honour, due alike

      To him who Reigns, and so much to him due

      Of hazard more, as he above the rest

      High honourd sits? Go therfore mighty powers,

      Terror of Heav’n, though fall’n; intend at home,

      While here shall be our home, what best may ease

      The present misery, and render Hell

      More tollerable; if there be cure or charm

      To respite or deceive, or slack the pain

      Of this ill Mansion: intermit no watch

      Against a wakeful Foe, while I abroad

      Through all the coasts of dark destruction seek

      Deliverance for us all: this enterprize

      None shall partake with me. Thus saying rose

      The Monarch, and prevented all reply,

      Prudent, least from his resolution rais’d

      Others among the chief might offer now

      (Certain to be refus’d) what erst they feard;

      And so refus’d might in opinion stand

      His rivals, winning cheap the high repute

      Which he through hazard huge must earn. But they

      Dreaded not more th’ adventure then his voice

      Forbidding; and at once with him they rose;

      Thir rising all at once was as the sound

      Of Thunder heard remote. Towards him they bend

      With awful reverence prone; and as a God

      Extoll him equal to the highest in Heav’n:

      Nor fail’d they to express how much they prais’d,

      That for the general safety he despis’d

      His own: for neither do the Spirits damn’d

      Loose all thir vertue; least bad men should boast

      Thir specious deeds on earth, which glory excites,

      Or close ambition varnisht o’re with zeal.

      Thus they thir doubtful consultations dark

      Ended rejoycing in thir matchless Chief:

      As when from mountain tops the dusky clouds

      Ascending, while the North wind sleeps, o’respread

      Heav’ns chearful face, the lowring Element

      Scowls ore the dark’nd lantskip Snow, or showre;

      If chance the radiant Sun with farewell sweet

      Extend his ev’ning beam, the fields revive,

      The birds thir notes renew, and bleating herds

      Attest thir joy, that hill and valley rings.

      O shame to men! Devil with Devil damn’d

      Firm concord holds, men onely disagree

      Of Creatures rational, though under hope

      Of heavenly Grace: and God proclaiming peace,

      Yet live in hatred, enmitie, and strife

      Among themselves, and levie cruel warres,

      Wasting the Earth, each other to destroy:

      As if (which might induce us to accord)

      Man had not hellish foes anow besides,

      That day and night for his destruction waite.

      The STYGIAN Councel thus dissolv’d; and forth

      In order came the grand infernal Peers,

      Midst came thir mighty Paramount, and seemd

      Alone th’ Antagonist of Heav’n, nor less

      Then Hells dread Emperour