The Battle of Darkness and Light . Джон Мильтон

us seek Som safer resolution, which methinks I have in view, calling to minde with heed Part of our Sentence, that thy Seed shall bruise The Serpents head; piteous amends, unless Be meant, whom I conjecture, our grand Foe Satan, who in the Serpent hath contriv’d Against us this deceit: to crush his head Would be revenge indeed; which will be lost By death brought on our selves, or childless days Resolv’d, as thou proposest; so our Foe Shall scape his punishment ordain’d, and wee Instead shall double ours upon our heads. No more be mention’d then of violence Against our selves, and wilful barrenness, That cuts us off from hope, and savours onely Rancor and pride, impatience and despite, Reluctance against God and his just yoke Laid on our Necks. Remember with what mild And gracious temper he both heard and judg’d Without wrauth or reviling; wee expected Immediate dissolution, which we thought Was meant by Death that day, when lo, to thee Pains onely in Child-bearing were foretold, And bringing forth, soon recompenc’t with joy, Fruit of thy Womb: On mee the Curse aslope Glanc’d on the ground, with labour I must earne My bread; what harm? Idleness had bin worse; My labour will sustain me; and least Cold Or Heat should injure us, his timely care Hath unbesaught provided, and his hands Cloath’d us unworthie, pitying while he judg’d; How much more, if we pray him, will his ear Be open, and his heart to pitie incline, And teach us further by what means to shun Th’ inclement Seasons, Rain, Ice, Hail and Snow, Which now the Skie with various Face begins To shew us in this Mountain, while the Winds Blow moist and keen, shattering the graceful locks Of these fair spreading Trees; which bids us seek Som better shroud, som better warmth to cherish Our Limbs benumm’d, ere this diurnal Starr Leave cold the Night, how we his gather’d beams Reflected, may with matter sere foment, Or by collision of two bodies grinde The Air attrite to Fire, as late the Clouds Justling or pusht with Winds rude in thir shock Tine the slant Lightning, whose thwart flame driv’n down Kindles the gummie bark of Firr or Pine, And sends a comfortable heat from farr, Which might supplie the Sun: such Fire to use, And what may else be remedie or cure To evils which our own misdeeds have wrought, Hee will instruct us praying, and of Grace Beseeching him, so as we need not fear To pass commodiously this life, sustain’d By him with many comforts, till we end In dust, our final rest and native home. What better can we do, then to the place Repairing where he judg’d us, prostrate fall Before him reverent, and there confess Humbly our faults, and pardon beg, with tears VVatering the ground, and with our sighs the Air Frequenting, sent from hearts contrite, in sign Of sorrow unfeign’d, and humiliation meek. Undoubtedly he will relent and turn From his displeasure; in whose look serene, VVhen angry most he seem’d and most severe, VVhat else but favor, grace, and mercie shon?

      So spake our Father penitent, nor Eve Felt less remorse: they forthwith to the place Repairing where he judg’d them prostrate fell Before him reverent, and both confess’d Humbly thir faults, and pardon beg’d, with tears VVatering the ground, and with thir sighs the Air Frequenting, sent from hearts contrite, in sign Of sorrow unfeign’d, and humiliation meek.

      THE END OF THE NINTH BOOK.

      PARADISE LOST.

      BOOK X.

       Table of Contents

      Thus they in lowliest plight repentant stood

       Praying, for from the Mercie-seat above

       Prevenient Grace descending had remov’d

       The stonie from thir hearts, and made new flesh

       Regenerat grow instead, that sighs now breath’d

       Unutterable, which the Spirit of prayer

       Inspir’d, and wing’d for Heav’n with speedier flight

       Then loudest Oratorie: yet thir port

       Not of mean suiters, nor important less

       Seem’d thir Petition, then when th’ ancient Pair

       In Fables old, less ancient yet then these,

       Deucalion and chaste Pyrrha to restore The Race of Mankind drownd, before the Shrine Of Themis stood devout. To Heav’n thir prayers Flew up, nor missed the way, by envious windes Blow’n vagabond or frustrate: in they passd Dimentionless through Heav’nly dores; then clad With incense, where the Golden Altar fum’d, By thir great Intercessor, came in sight Before the Fathers Throne: Them the glad Son Presenting, thus to intercede began.

      See Father, what first fruits on Earth are sprung

       From thy implanted Grace in Man, these Sighs

       And Prayers, which in this Golden Censer, mixt

       With Incense, I thy Priest before thee bring,

       Fruits of more pleasing savour from thy seed

       Sow’n with contrition in his heart, then those

       Which his own hand manuring all the Trees

       Of Paradise could have produc’t, ere fall’n

       From innocence. Now therefore bend thine eare

       To supplication, heare his sighs though mute;

       Unskilful with what words to pray, let mee

       Interpret for him, mee his Advocate

       And propitiation, all his works on mee

       Good or not good ingraft, my Merit those

       Shall perfet, and for these my Death shall pay.

       Accept me, and in mee from these receave

       The smell of peace toward Mankinde, let him live

       Before thee reconcil’d, at least his days

       Numberd, though sad, till Death, his doom (which I

       To mitigate thus plead, not to reverse)

       To better life shall yeeld him, where with mee

       All my redeemd may dwell in joy and bliss,

       Made one with me as I with thee am one.

      To whom the Father, without Cloud, serene.

       All thy request for Man, accepted Son,

       Obtain, all thy request was my Decree:

       But longer in that Paradise to dwell,

       The Law I gave to Nature him forbids:

       Those pure immortal Elements that know

       No gross, no unharmoneous mixture foule,

       Eject him tainted now, and purge him off

       As a distemper, gross to aire as gross,

       And mortal food, as may dispose him best

       For dissolution wrought by Sin, that first

       Distemperd all things, and of incorrupt

       Corrupted. I at first with two fair gifts

       Created him endowd, with Happiness

       And Immortalitie: that fondly lost,

       This other serv’d but to eternize woe;

       Till I provided Death; so Death becomes

       His final remedie, and after Life

       Tri’d in sharp tribulation, and refin’d

       By Faith and faithful works, to second Life,

       Wak’t in the renovation of the just,

       Resignes him up with Heav’n and Earth renewd.

       But let us call to Synod all the Blest

       Through Heav’ns wide bounds; from them I will not hide

       My judgments, how with Mankind I proceed,

       As how with peccant Angels late they saw;

       And in thir state, though firm, stood more confirmd.

      He ended, and the Son gave signal high

       To the bright Minister that watchd,