 I, who ere while the happy garden sung, by one man's disobedience lost, now sing, recovered paradise to all mankind, by one man's firm obedience fully tried, through all temptation and the tempter foiled, in all his wiles, defeated and repulsed, and Eden raised in the waste wilderness. Thou, spirit, who ledst this glorious Aramite into the desert, his victorious field against the spiritual foe, and broughtst him thence by proof the undoubted Son of God, inspire, as thou art want, my prompted song, else mute, and bear through height or depth of nature's bounds, with prosperous wing fullsummed, to tell of deeds above heroic, though in secret done, and unrecorded, left through many an age, worthy to have not remained so long unsung. Now had the great proclaimer, with a voice more awful than the sound of trumpet, cried repentance, and heaven's kingdom nigh at hand to all baptized. To his great baptism flocked with awe the region's round, and with thee came from Nazareth the son of Joseph, deemed to the flood Jordan, came as then obscure, unmarked, unknown. But him the Baptist soon described, divinely warned, and witnessed bore, as to his worthier, and would have resigned, to him his heavenly office. Nor was long his witness unconfirmed, on him baptized heaven opened, and in likeness of a dove the spirit descended, while the Father's voice from heaven pronounced him his beloved son. That heard the adversary, who roving still about the world, at that assembly famed, would not be last, and with the voice divine nigh thunderstruck, the exalted man to whom such high a test was given a while surveyed with wonder, then, with envy fraught and rage, flies to his place, nor rests, but in mid-air to counsel summons all his mighty peers. Within thick clouds and dark tenfold involve, a gloomy consistory, and them amidst, with looks aghast and sad, he thus bespake, O ancient powers of air and this wide world, for much more willingly I mention air, this our old conquest, than remember hell, our hated habitation. Well, you know how many ages, as the years of men, this universe we have possessed, and ruled in manner at our will the affairs of earth, since Adam and his facile consort Eve lost paradise, deceived by me, though since with dread attending when that fatal wound shall be inflicted by the seat of Eve upon my head. Long the decrees of heaven delay, for longest time to him is short, and now, too soon for us, the circling hours, this dreaded time have compulsed, wherein we must bide the stroke of that long-threatened wound, at least, if so we can, and by the head, broken, be not intended all our power to be infringed, our freedom and our being in this fair empire, one of earth and air. For this ill news I bring the woman's seed, destined to this, is late of woman-born. His birth to our just fear gave no small cause, but his growth now to youth's full flower, displaying all virtue, grace, and wisdom to achieve things highest, greatest, multiplies my fear. Before him a great prophet, to proclaim his coming, is sent harbinger, to all invites, and in the consecrated stream pretends to wash off sin, and fit them so purified to receive him pure, or rather to do him honour as their king. All come, and he himself among them was baptised, not thence to be more pure, but to receive the testimony of heaven, that he who he is, thence forth the nations may not doubt. I saw the prophet to him reverence, on him, rising out of water, heaven above the clouds unfold her crystal doors, thence on his head a perfect dove descend, whatever it meant, and out of heaven the sovereign voice I heard, this is my son beloved, in him am pleased. His mother, then, is mortal, but his sire, he who obtains the monarchy of heaven, and what will he not do to advance his son? His first begot we know, and sore have felt, when his fierce thunder drove us to the deep. Who this is we must learn, for man he seems, in all his liniments, though in his face the glimpses of his father's glory shine. You see our danger on the utmost edge of hazard, which admits no long debate, but must, with something sudden be opposed, not force, but well couched fraud, well-woven snares, ere in the head of nations he appear, their king, their leader, and supreme on earth. I, when no other dearest soul undertook the dismal expedition to find out and ruin Adam, and the exploit performed successfully, a calmer voyage now will waft me, and the way found prosperous once induces best to hope of like success. He ended, and his words' impression left, of much amazement to the infernal crew, distracted and surprised with deep dismay at these sad tidings. But no time was then for long indulgence to their fears or grief. Unanimous they all commit the care and management of this man enterprise to him. Their great dictator, whose attempt at first against mankind so well had thrived in Adam's overthrow, and led their march from hell's deep vaulted den to dwell in light, regents and potentates, and kings, ye gods of many a pleasant realm and province wide. So to the coast of Jordan he directs his easy steps, girded with snaky wiles, where he might likely as find this new declared, this man of men, a tested son of God, temptation and all guile on him to try. So to subvert whom he suspected raised, to end his reign on earth so long enjoyed. But contrary, unwitting he fulfilled the purpose counsel, preordained and fixed of the most high, who in full frequency bright of angels, thus to Gabriel smiling spake, Gabriel, this day by proof, thou shalt behold, thou and all angels covenant on earth, with man or men's affairs, how I begin to verify that solemn message late, on which I sent thee to the virgin pure and gallally, that she should bear a son, great and renowned, and called the son of God, then toldst her, doubting how these things could be to her a virgin, that on her should come the Holy Ghost, and the power of the highest overshadow her. This man, born and now upgrown, to show himself worthy of his birth divine, and high prediction, thenceforth I expose to Satan, let him tempt, and now assay his utmost subtlety, because he boasts and vaunts of his great cunning to the throng of his apostasy. He might have learnt less overweening, since he failed in Job, whose constant perseverance overcame what ere his cruel malice could invent, he now shall know I can produce a man of female seed, far abler to resist all his solicitations, and at length all his vast force, and drive him back to hell, winning by conquest what the first man lost by fallacy surprised. But first I mean to exorcise him in the wilderness, there he shall first lay down the rudiments of his great warfare, ere I sent him forth to conquer sin and death the two grand foes. By humiliation and strong sufferance his weakness shall overcome satanic strength, and all the world, and mass of sinful flesh, that all the angels and ethereal powers, they now and men hereafter, may discern from what consummate virtue I have chose this perfect man, by merit called my son, to earn salvation for the sons of men. So spake the eternal Father, and all heaven admiring stood a space, then into hymns burst forth, and in celestial measures moved, circling the throne and singing, while the hand sung with the voice, and this the argument, victory and triumph to the Son of God, now entering his great duel not of arms, but to vanquish by wisdom hellish wiles. The Father knows the Son, therefore secure of ventures his filial virtue, though untried, against what air may tempt, what air seduce, allure, or terrify, or undermine, be frustrate, all ye stratagems of hell, and devilish machinations come to naught. So they in heaven their odes and vigils tuned. Meanwhile the Son of God, who yet some days lodged in Bethubara, where John baptized, musing and much revolving in his breast, of how best the mighty work he might begin of saviour to mankind, and which way first publishes Godlike office now mature, one day forth walked alone, the spirit leading, and his deep thoughts, the better to converse with solitude, till, far from track of man, thought followed thought, and step by step led on, he entered now the bordering desert wild, and with dark shades and rocks environed round, his holy meditations thus pursued, oh, what a multitude of thoughts at once awakened in me swarm, while I consider, what from within I feel myself, and hear, what from without comes often to my ears, ill sorting with my present state compared. When I was yet a child, no childish play to me was pleasing, all my mind was set serious to learn and know, and thence to do, what might be public good, myself I thought, born to that end, born to promote all truth, all righteous things. Therefore above my years, the law of God I read, and found it sweet, made it my whole delight, and in it grew to such perfection that ere my age had measured twice six years, at our great feast I went into the temple, there to hear the teachers of our law, and to propose what might improve my knowledge or their own, and was admired by all. Yet this not all to which my spirit aspired, victorious deeds flamed in my heart, heroic acts, one while to rescue Israel from the Roman yoke, then to subdue and quell, or all the earth, brute violence and proud tyrannic power, till truth were freed and equity restored. Yet held it more human, more heavenly, first by winning words to conquer willing hearts, and make persuasion to the work of fear, at last to try and teaching the airing soul, not willfully misdoing, but unaware, misled, the stubborn thoughts only to subdue those growing thoughts my mother soon perceiving, by words at times cast forth, kindly rejoiced, and said to me apart, High are thy thoughts, O Son, but nourish them, and let them soar to what height sacred virtue and true worth can raise them, though above example high by matchless deeds express thy matchless sire, for no thou art no son of mortal man, though men esteem thee low of parentage, thy father is the eternal king who rules all heaven and earth, angels and sons of men. A messenger from God foretold thy birth, conceived in me a virgin, he foretold thou shouldst be great, and sit on David's throne, and of thy kingdom there should be no end. At thy nativity a glorious squire of angels in the fields of Bethlehem sung to shepherds, watching at their folds by night, and told them the Messiah now was born, where they might see him, and to thee they came, directed to the manger where thou layest, for in the inn was left no better room. A star not seen before in heaven appearing guided the wise men thither from the east to honor thee with incense, myrrh, and gold. By whose bright course led on they found the place affirming at thy star, new graven in heaven, by which they knew thee, king of Israel born. Just Simeon and prophetic Anna, warned by vision, found thee in the temple, and spake, before the altar and the vested priest, like things of thee to all that present stood. This, having art, straight I again revolved the law and prophets, searching what was writ concerning the Messiah to our scribes, known partly, and soon of whom they spake I am. This, chiefly, that my way must lie, through many a hard essay, even to the death ere I the promised kingdom can attain, or work redemption for mankind, whose sins full weight must be transferred upon my head, yet neither thus disheartened or dismayed, the time prefixed I waited, when behold, the Baptist, of whose birth I oft had heard, not knew by sight, now come, who was to come before Messiah and his way prepare. I, as all others to his baptism came, which I believed was from above, but he straight knew me, and with loudest voice proclaimed me him, for it was shown him so from heaven, me, him whose harbinger he was, and first refused on me his baptism to confer, as much his greater, and was hardly one. But as I rose out of the laving stream, heaven opened her eternal doors, from whence the spirit descended on me like a dove, and last, the sum of all, my father's voice, audibly heard from heaven, pronounced me his, me, his beloved son, in whom alone he was well pleased, by which I knew the time now full, that I no more should live obscure, but openly begin, as best becomes the authority which I derived from heaven, and now, by some strong motion I am led into this wilderness, to what intent I learn not yet. Perhaps I need not know, for what concerns my knowledge God reveals. So spake our morning star, then in his rise, and looking round on every side beheld a pathless desert, dusk with horrid shades, the way he came not having marked return, was difficult, by human steps untrod, and he still, on, was led but with such thoughts accompanied of things past, and things to come, lodged in his breast as well might recommend such solitude, before choicest society. Full forty days he passed, whether on hills sometimes, a non in shady veil, each night under the covert of some ancient oak, or cedar, to defend him from the dew, or harbored in one cave, is not revealed, nor tasted human food, nor hunger felt, till those days ended, hungered then at last among the wild beast. They at his sight grew mild, nor sleeping him, nor waking harmed, his walk the fiery serpent fled in noxious worm, the lion and fierce tiger glared aloof, but now an aged man in rural weeds, following as seemed the quest of some stray you, or withered sticks to gather, which might serve against a winter's day. When winds blow keen to warn him, wet returned from field at eve, he saw approach, who first, with curious eye, persuaded him. Then with words thus uttered spake, Sir, what ill chance brought thee to this place, so far from path or road of men, who pass in troop or caravan, for single none durced ever who returned, and dropped not here his carcass, pined with hunger and with drought. I ask the rather, the more admire, for that to me thou seamest the man whom late our new baptized prophet at the Ford of Jordan honored so, and called thee, Son of God. I saw and heard, for we sometimes who dwell in this wild, constrained by want, come forth to town or village nigh, niest is far, where ought we hear and curious are to hear, what happens new, fame also finds us out. To whom the Son of God, who brought me hither, will bring me hence, no other guide I seek. By miracle he may, replied the swain, what other way I see not, for we here live on tough wreats and stubs, to thirst, unear'd, more than the camel, and to drink go far. Men to such misery and hardship borne, but if thou be the Son of God, command that out of these hard stones be made the bread, so shalt thou save thyself, and us relieve with food, whereof we wretched seldom taste. He ended, and the Son of God replied, Thinkest thou such force in bread? Is it not written, for I discern thee other than thou seamest? Man lives not by bread only, but each word proceeding from the mouth of God, who fed our fathers here with manna. In the Mount Moses was forty days, nor eat, nor drink, and forty days Elijah without food wandered this barren waste. The same I now. Why dost thou then suggest to me to distrust knowing who I am, as I know who thou art? Whom thus answered the Archfiend, now undisguised, Tis true, I am that spirit unfortunate, who, league'd with millions more in rash revolt, kept not my happy station, but was driven with them from bliss to the bottomless deep, yet to that hideous place not so confined, by rigor uncanniving, but that oft, leaving my Dolores prison, I enjoyed large liberty to round this globe of earth, or range in the air, nor from the heaven of heavens hath he excluded my resort sometimes. I came among the sons of God, when he gave up into my hands Eusean Job, to prove him, and illustrate his high worth. And when to all his angels he proposed to draw the proud king Ahab into fraud, that he might fall in remoth, they demurred. I undertook that office, and the tongues of all his flattering prophets glibbed with lies to his destruction, as I had in charge, for what he bids I do. Though I have lost much lustre of my native brightness, I lost to be beloved of God, I have not lost to love, at least contemplate and admire what I see excellent in good, or fair, or virtuous, I should so have lost all sense. What can be then less in me than desire to see thee and approach thee, whom I know declared the Son of God, to hear a tenth I wisdom, and behold thy God-like deeds? Men generally think me such a foe to all mankind, why should I? They to me never did wrong or violence. By them I lost not what I lost, rather by them I gained what I have gained, and with them dwell co-partner in these regions of the world. If not disposer, lend them off to my aid, of my advice by presages and signs and answers, oracles, portents and dreams, whereby they may direct their future life. Envy, they say, excites me, thus to gain companions of my misery and woe. At first it may be, but long since with woe nearer acquainted, now I feel by proof that fellowship in pain divides not smart, nor lightens ought each man's peculiar load. Small consolation, then, where man adjoined, this wounds me most. What can it less? That man, man fallen, should be restored, I never more. To whom our Saviour sternly thus replied, Deservedly thou grievousst, composed of lies from the beginning, and in lies will end, who boasted release from hell and leave to come into the heaven of heavens. Thou comest indeed, as a poor, miserable captive, thrall, comes to the place where he before had sat among the prime and splendor, now deposed, ejected, emptied, gazed, unpittied, shunned, a spectacle of ruin or scorn to all the host of heaven. The happy place imparts to thee no happiness, no joy. Rather inflames thy torment, representing lost bliss, to thee no more communicable, so never more in hell than when in heaven, but thou art serviceable to heaven's king. Will thou impute to obedience what thy fear extorts or pleasure to do ill excites? What but thy malice moved thee to misdeem of righteous Job, then cruelly to afflict him with all inflections, but his patience won? The other service was thy chosen task, to be a liar in four hundred mouths, for lying is thy sustenance, thy food, yet thou pretendest to truth. All oracles by thee are given, and what confessed more true among the nations? That hath been thy craft, by mixing somewhat true to vent more lies. But what hath been thy answers? What but dark, ambiguous, and with double sense diluting, which they who asked have seldom understood, and not well understood, as good not known? Whoever by consulting at thy shrine returned the wiser, or the more instruct to fly or follow what concerned him most, and run not sooner to his fatal snare. For God hath justly given the nations up to thy delusions, justly, since they fell idolatrous. But when his purpose is among them to declare his providence to thee not known, whence hast thou then thy truth but from him, or his angels' president in every province, who, themselves disaining to approach thy temples, give thee in command what to the smallest tittle thou shalt say to thy adorers? Thou with trembling fear, or like a fawning parasite, obeyest. Then to thyself ascribes the truth foretold. But this thy glory shall be soon retrenched. No more shalt thou by oracleing abuse the Gentiles. Henceforth oracles are ceased, and thou no more with pomp and sacrifice shalt be inquired at Delphos or elsewhere. At least in vain, for they shall find the mute. God hath now sent his living oracle into the world to teach his final will, and sends his spirit of truth henceforth to dwell in pious hearts, and inward oracle to all truth requisite for men to know. So spake our saviour, but the subtle fiend, though inly stung with anger and disdain, dissembled, and this answer smoothly returned. Sharply thou hast insisted on rebuke, and urged me hard with doings which not will, but misery hath rested from me. Where easily canst thou find one miserable, and not enforced off times depart from truth, if it may stand him more instead to lie, say and unsay, feign, flatter, or abjure. But thou art placed above me, thou art Lord, from thee I can and must submiss, endure, cheek or reproof, and glad to scape so quit. Hard are the ways of truth, and rough to walk, smooth on the tongue disgorced, pleasing to the ear, and tunable as silven pipe or song. What wonder, then, if I delight to hear her dictates from thy mouth? Most men admire virtue who follow not her lore. Permit me to hear thee when I come, since no man comes, and talk at least, though I despair to attain thy father, who is holy, wise, and pure. Suffers the hypocrite or atheist priest to tread his sacred courts, and minister about his altar, handling holy things, praying or vowing, and vouchsafed his voice to balum reprobate. A prophet yet inspired, disdain not such access to me. To whom our saviour with unaltered brow, thy coming hither, though I know thy scope, I bid not or forbid. Do as thou findest permission from above, thou canst not more. He added not, and Satan, bowing low, his gray dissimulation disappeared into thin air, diffused, for now began night with her sullen wing to double shade the desert, fowls and their clay nests were couched, and now wild beasts came forth the woods to roam. Meanwhile the new baptized, who yet remained at Jordan with the baptized, and had seen him whom they heard so late expressly called Jesus Messiah, son of God, declared, and on that high authority had believed, and with him talked, and with him lodged, I mean Andrew and Simon, famous after known, with others, though in holy writ not named, now missing him their joy so lately found, so lately found, and so abruptly gone began to doubt, and doubted many days, and as the days increased, increased their doubt. Sometimes they thought he might be only shown, and for a time caught up to God, as once Moses was in the mountain missing long, and the great Thisbite, who on fiery wheels rode up to heaven, yet once again to come, therefore as those young prophets then with care sought lost Elyah. So in each place these Nigh to Bethabara, and Jericho, the city of Palms, Anon and Salem old, Makyrus, and each town or city walled on this side, the broad lake in Eseret, or in Perea, but returned in vain, then on the bank of Jordan by a creek, where winds with reeds and ossears whispering play, plain fishermen, no greater men than call, close in a cottage low together got, their unexpected loss and plaince outbreath. Alas! from what high hope to what relapse, unlooked for are we fallen, our eyes beheld Messiah certainly now come, so long expected of our fathers, we have heard his words, his wisdom full of grace and truth, now now for sure deliverance is at hand, the kingdom shall to Israel be restored, thus we rejoice, but soon our joy is turned into perplexity and new amaze, for whither is he gone, what accident hath wrapped him from us, will he now retire after appearance, and again prolong our expectation? God of Israel, send thy Messiah forth, the time is come. Behold, the kings of the earth, how they oppress the chosen, to what height their power unjust they have exalted, and behind them cast all fear of thee. Arise and vindicate thy glory, free thy people from their yoke, but let us wait. Thus far he hath performed, sent his anointed, and to us revealed him by his great prophet pointed at and shown in public, and with him we have conversed. Let us be glad of this, and all our fears lay on his providence. He will not fail, nor will withdraw him now, nor will recall. Mock us with his blessed sight, then snatch him hence, soon we shall see our hope, our joy return. Thus they out of their plaints new hope resumed, to find whom at the first they found unsought. But to his mother Mary, when she saw others return from baptism, not her son, nor left at Jordan tidings of him none, within her breast though calm, her breast though pure, motherly cares and fears got head, and raised some troubled thoughts, which she incised thus clad. Oh, what avails me now that honour high to have conceived of God or that salute, hail highly favoured among women blessed, while I to sorrows am no less advanced, and fears is imminent above the lot of other women, by the birth I bore. In such a season born when scarce a shed could be obtained to shelter him or me from the bleak air. A stable was our warmth, a manger his, yet soon enforced to fly, thence into Egypt, till the murderous king were dead, who sought his life, and missing, filled with infant blood the streets of Bethlehem. From Egypt home returned and Nazareth hath been our dwelling many years, his life private, unactive, calm, contemplative, little suspicious to any king. But now full grown to man, acknowledged as I hear by John the Baptist and in public shone, son owned from heaven by his father's voice, I looked for some great change, to honour, no, but trouble, as old Simeon plain foretold that to the fall and rising he should be of many in Israel, and to a sign spoken against, that through my very soul a sword shall pierce. This is my favoured lot, my exaltation to affliction's high. Afflicted I may be, it seems, and blessed, I will not argue that, nor repine, but where delays he now? Some great intent conceals him. When twelve years he scarce had seen I lost him, but so found as well I saw he could not lose himself, but when about his father's business? What he meant I mused, as understand, much more his absence now thus long to some great purpose he obscures, but I to wait with patience and amnured. My heart hath been a storehouse long of things, and sayings laid up, pretending strange events. Thus, Mary, pondering off, an off to mind recalling what remarkably had passed since first her salutation heard, with thoughts meekly composed awaited the fulfilling, the while her son tracing the desert wild soul, but with holiest meditations fed into himself descended, and at once all his great work to come before him set, how to begin, how to accomplish best his end of being on earth, and mission high. For Satan, with sly preface to return, had left him vacant, and with speed was gone up to the middle region of thick air, where all his potentates and councils sate. There without sign of boast or sign of joy, solicitous and blank he thus began. Princes, heaven's ancient sun, ethereal thrones, demonian spirits now, from the element each of his reign allotted, rightlier called powers of fire, air, water, and earth beneath, so may we hold our place in these mild seats without new trouble. Such an enemy is risen to invade us, who no less threatens than our expulsion down to hell. I, as I undertook, and with the vote consenting in full, was empowered, have found him, viewed him, tasted him, but find far other labour to be undergone than when I dealt with Adam, first of men, though Adam by his wife's allurement fell. However, to this man inferior far, if he be man by mother's side, at least with more than human gifts from heaven adorned, perfections absolute, graces divine, and amplitude of mind to greatest deeds. For I am returned, lest confidence of my success with even paradise deceive you to persuasion over-sure of like succeeding here. I summon all rather to be in readiness with hand or counsel to assist, lest I, who erst thought none my equal, now be overmatched. So spake the old serpent, doubting and from all with clamour was assured their utmost aid at his command, when from amidst them rose Belial, the disilutous spirit that fell, the sensualist, and after Asmodai, the fleshliest incubus, and thus advised. Set woman in his eye, and in his walk, among daughters of men the fairest found. Many are in each region passing fair as the noon sky, more like to goodness than mortal creatures graceful and discreet, expert in amorous arts, enchanting tongues, persuasive, virgin majesty with mild and sweet allade, yet terrible to approach, skilled to retire, and in retiring draw hearts after them tangled in amorous nets. Such object hath the power to soften and tame severous temper, smooth the ruggedest brow, in nerve and with voluptuous hope dissolve, draw out with credulous desire and lead at will the manliest resolutous breasts, as the magnetic hardest iron draws. Women when nothing else beguiled the heart of wisest Solomon, and made him build, and made him bow to the gods of his wives. To whom quick answer Satan thus returned, Belial and much uneven scale thou weightest all others by thyself. Because of old thou thyself dotest on womankind admiring their shape, their color, and attractive grace. None are thou thinkest but taken with such toys. Before the flood thou with thy lusty crew, false titled sons of God, roaming the earth, cast wanton eyes on the daughters of men, and coupled with them, and begot a race. Have we not seen, or by relation heard, in courts and regal chambers, how thou lurkest in wood or grove, by mossy fountain side, in valley or green meadow to way lay some beauty rare? Callisto, climbing, Daphne or Semile, Antiopa, or Amemony, Srinx, many more too long, than lay as thy scapes on names adored, Apollo, Neptune, Jupiter, or Pan, Seder or Faun or Sylvan. But these haunts delight not all. Amongst the son of men, how many have with a smile made small account of beauty and her lures, easily scorned all her assaults on worthier things intent. Remember that palaeon conqueror, a youth, how all the beauties of the east he slightly viewed and slightly overpassed, how he surnamed of Africa dismissed, in his prime youth the fair Iberian maid for Solomon, he lived at ease, and full of honor, wealth, high, fair, aimed not beyond higher design than to enjoy his state, thence to the bait of women lay exposed, but he whom we attempt is wiser far than Solomon, of more exalted mind made and set wholly on the accomplishment of greatest things. What woman will you find, though of this age the wonder and the fame on whom his leisure will vouch safe an eye of fond desire? Or should she, confident as sitting queen adored on beauty's throne, descend with all her winning charms begirt to enname her, as the zone of Venus once wroth that effect on Jove, so fables tell? How would one look from his majestic brow, seated as on top of virtue's hill, discountenance her despised, and put to rout all her array, her female pride deject, or turn to reverent awe? For beauty stands in the admiration only of weak minds led captive, cease to admire in all her plumes fall flat and shrink into a trivial toy at every sudden sliding quite abashed. Therefore with manlier objects we must try his constancy, with such as have more show of worth, of honor, glory, and popular praise, rocks whereon greatest men have often wrecked, or that which only seems to satisfy lawful desires of nature not beyond. And now I know he hungers where no food is to be found in the wide wilderness the rest commit to me. I shall let pass no advantage and his strength as oft assay. He ceased, and heard their grand and loud acclaim, then forthwith to him takes a chosen band of spirits, likeest to himself and Gile, to be at hand and at his beck appear, if cause were to unfold some active scene of various persons each to know his part. Then to the desert takes with these his flight, where still from shade to shade the Son of God after forty days fasting had remained, now hungering first and to himself thus said, Where will this end? Four times ten days I have passed wondering this woody maze, and human food nor tasted, nor had appetite. That fast to virtue I impute not, or count part of what I suffer here. If nature need not, or gods support nature without repast, though needing, what praise is it to endure? But now I feel I hunger, which declares nature hath need of what she asks. Yet God can satisfy that need some other way, though hunger still remain. So it remain without this body's wasting I content me, and from the sting of famine fear no harm nor mind it, fed with better thoughts that feed me hungering more to do my father's will. It was the hour of night when thus the Son communed in silent walk, then laid him down under the hospitable, covert night of trees thick interwoven. There he slept and dreamed as appetite is want to dream of meats and drinks, nature's refreshment sweet. Him thought he by the brook of charrith stood, and saw the ravens with their horny beaks food to Elijah bringing even and mourn, the ravenous taught to abstain from what they brought. He saw the prophet also, how he fled into the desert, and how there he slept under a juniper. Then how, awaked, he found his supper on the coals prepared, and by the angel was bid rise and eat, and eat the second time after repose, the strength whereof sufficed him forty days, sometimes that with Elijah he partook, or as a guest with Daniel at his pulse. Thus wore out the night, and now the herald lark left his ground nest, high towering to describe the mourn's approach, and greet her with his song. As lightly from his grassy couch up rose our savior, and found all was but a dream, fasting he went to sleep, and fasting waked. Up to a hillanon his steps he reared, from whose high top to ken the prospect round, if cottage were in view sheepcoat or herd. The cottage heard or sheepcoat none he saw. Only in a bottom saw a pleasant grove with shant of tuneful birds resounding loud. Thither he bent his way, determined there to rest at noon, and entered soon the shade high roofed, and walks beneath an alley's brown, that opened in the midst a woody scene, nature's own work it seemed, nature taught art, and to a superstitious eye the haunt of wood-guards and wood-nymphs. He viewed it round when suddenly a man before him stood, not rustic as before, but seemlier clad, as one in city or court or palace bred, and with fair speech these words to him addressed. With granted leave a vicious eye returned but much more wonder that the Son of God in this wild solitude so long should bide of all things destitute, and well I know not without hunger. Others of some note, as story tells, have trod this wilderness the fugitive bond woman with her son outcast Nabaioth, yet found here relief by providing angel. All the race of Israel here had famished, had not God reigned from heaven menna, and that prophet bold native of Thebes wondering here was fed, twice by a voice inviting him to eat. Of thee those forty days none hath regard, forty and more deserted here indeed. To whom thus Jesus? What conclutus thou hence? They all had need. I, as thou seest, have none. How hast thou hunger, then? Satan replied. Tell me, if food were now before thee set, wouldst thou not eat? Thereafter as I like the giver, answered Jesus. Why should that cause thy refusal? said the subtle fiend. Hast thou not right to all created things? O not all creatures by just right to thee duty and service, nor to stay till bid, but tender all their power? Nor mention I meets by the law unclean, or offered first to idols, those young Daniel could refuse, nor proffered by an enemy. Though who would scruple that with want oppressed? Behold, nature ashamed, or better to express troubled, that thou shalt hunger hath pervade from all the elements her choices store, to treat thee as beseems, and as her lord with honour, only dain to sit and eat. He spake no dream, for as his words had end, our Saviour lifting up his eyes beheld in ample space under the broadest shade, a table richly spread in regal mode, with dishes piled and meats of noblest sort, and savor beasts of chase, or foul of game, and pastry-built, or from the spit, or boiled, grisember steamed, all fish from sea or shore, freshet, or purling brook, of shell or fin, an exquisitous name, for which was drained Pontus, and Lucrine Bay, and Afric coast. Alas, how simple to these Cates compared was that crude apple that diverted Eve, and at a stately sideboard by the wine that fragrant smell diffused in order stood tall stripling youth's rich clad of fairer hue than Ganymede or Hylis, distant more under the trees now tripped, now solemn, stewed nymphs of Diana's train, and niads with fruits and flowers from Amothea's horn, and ladies of the Hesperides that seemed fairer than feigned of old, or fabled scents of fairy damsels met and forest wide by knights of Logres, or of Lyonese, Lensalot, or Peleus, or Pelinor, and all the while harmonious heirs were heard of chiming strings, or charming pipes, and winds of gentlest scale Arabian odors fanned from their soft wings, and flora's earliest smells such was the splendor, and the tempter now his invitation earnestly renewed. What doubts the Son of God to sit and eat? These are not fruits forbidden, no interdict defends the touching of these vians pure, their taste no knowledge works at least of evil, but life preserves, destroys life's enemy hunger with sweet restorative delight. All these are spirits of air and woods and springs, thy gentle ministers who come to pay the homage, and acknowledge thee their Lord. What doubt is thou, Son of God, sit down and eat? To whom thus Jesus temperately replied, saidst thou not, that to all things I had right? And who withholds my power that right to use? Shall I receive by gift what of my own, when and where likes me best I can command? I can at will, doubt not, as soon as thou command a table in this wilderness, and call swift flights of angels, ministrant, arrayed in glory on my cup to attend. Why shouldst thou then obtrude this diligence in vain where no acceptance it can find? And with my hunger what hast thou to do? Thy pompous delicacies I contend, and count thy specious gifts no gifts but guiles? To whom thus answered Satan, malcontent, that I have also power to give thou seeest. If of that power I bring thee voluntary what I might have bestowed on whom I please, and rather opportunity in this place chose to impart to thy apparent need, why shouldst thou not accept it? But I see what I can do or offer as suspect. Of these things others quickly will dispose, whose pains have earned the far-fetched spoil. With that both table and provision vanish quite, with sound of harpy's wings and talons heard, only the impotuned tempter still remained, and with these words his temptation pursued. By hunger that each other creature tames, thou art not to be harmed, therefore not moved. Thy temperance invincible besides, for no allurement yields to appetite, and all thy heart is set on high designs, high actions. But wherewith to be achieved? Great acts require great means of enterprise. Thou art unknown, unfriended, low of birth, a carpenter, thy father known, thyself, bred up in poverty and straights at home, lost in a desert here in hunger-bit. Which way, or from what hope, dost thou aspire to greatness? Whence authority derivest? What followers? What retinue canst thou gain, or at thy heels the dizzy multitude longer than thou canst feed them on thy cost? Money brings honour, friends, conquests, and realms. What raised Antipater, the Edomite, and his son Herod, placed on Judah's throne, thy throne, but gold, that got him peace on friends. Therefore, if at great things thou wouldst arrive, get riches first, get wealth, and treasure heap, not difficult if thou harken to me. Riches are mine, fortune is in my hand, they who my favour thrive in wealth amane, while virtue, valor, wisdom, sit and want. To whom thus Jesus patiently replied. Yet wealth, without these three, is impotent to gain dominion, or to keep it gained. Witness those ancient empires of the earth, in height of all their flowing wealth dissolved, but men endued with these have oft attained, in lowest poverty, to highest deeds, Gideon and Jephthah, and the shepherd lad, whose offspring on the throne of Judah sate so many ages, and shall yet regain that seat, and reign in Israel without end. Among the heathen, for throughout the world to me is not unknown what hath been done worthy of memorial, canst thou not remember quantius, fabricius, curious, regulus? For I esteem those names of men so poor, who could do mighty things, and could contend riches, though offered from the hand of kings, and what in me seems wanting, but that I may also in this poverty as soon as accomplish what they did, perhaps and more. Extol not riches, then, the toil of fools, the wise man's cumbrance, if not snare, more apt to slacken virtue, and abate her edge, than prompt her to do ought may merit praise. What, if with like aversion, I reject riches and realms? Yet not for that a crown, golden in show, is but a wreath of thorns, brings dangers, troubles, cares, and sleepless nights, to him who wears the regal diadem, when on his shoulders each man's burden lies, for therein stands the office of a king, his honor, virtue, merit, and chief praise, that for the public all this weight he bears. Yet he who reigns within himself, and rules, passions, desires, and fears is more a king, which every wise and virtuous man attains, and who attains not, ill aspires to rule cities of men, or headstrong multitudes, subject himself to anarchy within, or lawless passions in him which he serves. But to guide nations in the way of truth by saving doctrine, and from error led to know, and knowing worship God aright is yet more kingly. This attracts the soul, governs the inner man, the nobler part, that other or the body only reigns, and off by force, which to a generous mind so reigning can be no sincere delight. Besides, to give a kingdom hath been thought greater and nobler done, and to lay down far more magnanimous than to assume. Riches are needless, then, both for themselves, and for thy reason why they should be sought to gain a scepter, oftest better missed. End of Book Two, recorded by Greg Hartley on June 26, 2008. Book Three of Paradise Regained. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Michael Sample, Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada. Paradise Regained, by John Milton. Book Three. So spake the Son of God, and Satan stood a while as mute, confounded what to say, what to reply, confuted and convinced of his weak arguing and fallacious drift, at length, collecting all his serpent wiles, with soothing words renewed, him thus accosts. I see thou, noists, what is of use to know, what best to say can't say, to do can'ts do. Thy actions to thy words accord, thy words to thy large heart give utterance do. Thy heart contains of good, wise, just, the perfect shape. Should kings and nations from thy mouth consult, thy counsel would be as the oracle, urim and thumim, those oraculous gems on erin's breast, or tongue of seers old infallible, or word thou sought to deeds that might require the array of war, thy skill of conduct would be such that all the world could not sustain thy prowess, or subsist in battle, though against thy few in arms. These godlike virtues wherefore dost thou hide, affecting private life or more obscure, in savage wilderness wherefore deprive, all earth her wonder at thy acts, thy self, the fame and glory, glory the reward, that soul excites to high attempts the flame of most erected spirits, most tempered pure ethereal, who all pleasures else despise, all treasures and all gain esteem as dross, all dignities and powers, all but the highest? Thy years are ripe and overripe, the son of Macedonian Philip had heir these one Asia, and the throne of Cyrus held at his dispose, young Scipio had brought down the Carthaginian pride, young Pompey quelled the Pontic king and in triumph had rode. Yet years and to ripe years, judgment mature, quench not the thirst of glory, but augment, great Julius, whom now all the world admires, the more he grew in years the more inflamed with glory, wept that he had lived so long inglorious. But thou art yet not too late. To whom our Saviour calmly thus replied, Thou neither dost persuade me to seek wealth for empire's sake, nor empire to effect, for glory's sake by all thy argument. For what is glory but the blaze of fame? The people's praise, if always praise unmixed, and what the people but a herd confused, a miscellaneous rabble who extol things vulgar, and, well weighed, scarce worth the praise. They praise and they admire they know not what, and know not whom but as one leads the other, and what delight to be by such extolled, to live upon their tongues and be their talk. Of whom to be despraised were no small praise, his lot who dares by singularly good, the intelligent among them and the wise are few, and glory's scarce of few is raised. This is true glory and renown, when God, looking on the earth with appropriation, marks the just man, and divulges him through heaven to all his angels, who with true applause recount his praises. Thus he did to Job, when to extend his fame through heaven and earth, as thou to thy reproachest well remember, he asked thee, hast thou seen my servant Job? Famous he was in heaven, on earth less known, where glory is false glory, attributed to things not glorious, men not worthy of fame. They ere who counted glorious to subdue by conquest far and wide, to overrun large countries and in fields great battles win, great cities by assault. What do these worthy's but rob and spoil, burn, slaughter and enslave, peaceable nations, neighbouring or remote, made captive yet deserving freedom more than those their conquerors, who leave behind nothing but ruin, where so ever they rove. And all the flourishing works of peace destroy, then swell with pride, and must be titled gods, great benefactors of mankind, deliverers worshiped with temple priest and sacrifice. One is the son of Job of Mars the other, till conqueror death discover them scarce men, rowling in brutish vices, then deformed, violent or shameful death their due reward. But if there be in glory ought of good, it may be means far different be attained. Without ambition war or violence, by deeds of peace, by wisdom eminent, by patience temperance, I mention still him whom thy wrongs with saintly patience borne, made famous in a land in times obscure. Who names not now with honour patient Job? Porsocrates, who next more memorable. By what he taught and suffered for so doing, for truth's sake suffering death unjust, lives now equal in fame to proudest conquerors. Yet if for fame and glory ought to be done, ought suffered, if young African for fame his wasted country freed from punic rage, the deed becomes unpraised, the man at least, and loses, though but verbal, his reward. Shall I seek glory, then, as vain men seek oft not deserved? I seek not mine, but his, who sent me, and thereby witness whence I am. To whom the tempter murmuring, thus replied, Think not so slight of glory, therein least resembling thy great father. He seeks glory, and for his glory all things made, all things orders and governs, nor content in heaven, by all his angels glorified, requires glory from men, from all men, good or bad, wise or unwise, no difference, no exception. Above all sacrifice or hallowed gift, glory he requires, and glory he receives, promiscuous from all nations, Jew or Greek or barbarous, no, or exception hath declared, from us his foes pronounced, glory he expects. To whom our Saviour fervently replied, And reason, since his word all things produced, though chiefly not for glory as prime end, but to shoo forth his goodness, and impart his good communicables to every soul freely. Of whom what could he less expect than glory and benediction, that is, thanks, the slightest, easiest, readiest recompense from them who could return him nothing else, and not returning that would likelyest render contempt instead, dishonor, obliquy, hard recompense, unsuitable return for so much good, so much beneficence. But why should man seek glory, who of his own hath nothing, and to whom nothing belongs, but condemnation, ignominy, and shame, who for so many benefits received, turned requerient to God in great and false, and so of all true good himself despoiled, yet sacrilegious to himself would take that which God alone of right belongs, yet so much bounty is in God such grace that who advances his glory not their own, them he himself to glory will advance. So spake the Son of God, and here again Satan had not to answer, but stood struck with guilt of his own sin, for he himself, insatiable of glory, had lost all. Yet of another plea bethought him soon, of glory as thou wilt, said he, so deem worth or not worth the seeking, let it pass, but to a kingdom thou art born, ordained to sit upon thy father David's throne, by mother's side thy father, though thy right be now in powerful hands, that will not part easily from possession one with arms. Judea now in all the promised land reduced a province under Roman yoke, obeys Tiberius, nor is always ruled with temperate sway, oft they have violated the temple, oft the law with fowl, fronts, abominations rather, as did once Antiochus, and thinkest thou to regain thy right by sitting still or thus retiring? So did not Maccabeus, he indeed retired unto the desert, but with arms, and o'er many kings so oft prevailed, that by strong hand his family obtained, through priests the crown, and David's throne usurped. With modan and her suburbs once content, if kingdom move thee not, let move thee zeal and duty. Zeal and duty are not slow, but on occasions forelock watchful wait. They themselves rather are occasion best, zeal of thy father's house, duty to free thy country from her heathen servitude. So shalt thou best fulfill, best verify, the prophet's old, who sung thy endless reign, the happier reign the sooner it begins, reign then, what canst thou do better the while? To whom, our Saviour, answer thus returned, all things are best fulfilled in their due time, and time there is for all things, truth has said. If of my reign prophetic writ hath told, that it shall never end, so when begin the father in his purpose hath decreed, he in whose hand all times and seasons roll. What if he hath decreed that I shall first be tried in humble state, and things adverse by tribulations, injuries, insults, contempts and scorns, and snares, and violence, suffering, abstaining, quietly expecting, without distrust or doubt, that he may know what I can suffer how obey. Who best can suffer best can do, best reign who first well hath obeyed, just trial ere I merit, my exaltation without charger end. But what concerns it thee when I begin my everlasting kingdom? Why art thou solicitous? What moves thy inquisition? Knowest thou not that my rising is thy fall, and my promotion will be thy destruction? To whom the tempter, inly wracked, replied, Let that come when it comes. All hope is lost of my reception into grace, what worse? For where no hope is left is left no fear. If there be worse the expectation more of worse torments me than the feeling can, I would be at the worst. Worst is my port, my harbour, and my ultimate repose, the end I would attain, my final good. My error was my error, and my crime my crime, whatever, for itself condemned, and will alike be punished, whether thou reign or reign not. Though to that gentle brow willingly I could fly, and hope thy reign, from that placid aspect and meek regard, rather than aggravate my evil state, would stand between me and thy father's ire, whose ire I dread more than the fire of hell. A shelter and a kind of shading cool, interposition as a summer's cloud. If I then, to the worst that can be haste, why move thy feet so slow to what is best? Happiness both to thyself and all the world. That thou, who worthiest art, shouldst be their king, perhaps thou lingrest in deep thoughts detained of the enterprise so hazardous and high. No wonder, for though in thee be united what of perfection can in man be found, or human nature can receive, consider thy life hath yet been private. Most parts spent at home, scarce viewed by Galilean crowds, and once a year in Jerusalem, few days short sojourn, and what thence couldst thou observe? The world thou hast not seen, much less her glory, empires and monarchs and their radiant courts, best school of best experience, quickest in sight, in all things that to greatest action lead. The wisest, unexperienced will ever be timorous and loth, with nervous modesty, as he who, seeking asses, found a kingdom, irresolute, unhardy, unadventures. But I will bring thee where thou soon shalt quit those rudiments, and see before thine eyes the monarchies of the earth, their pomp and state, sufficient introduction to inform thee of thyself so apt in regal arts and regal mysteries, that thou mayst know how best their opposition to withstand. With that, such power as was given him then, he took the Son of God up to a mountain high. It was a mountain at whose verdant feet a spacious plain outstretched and circuit wide lay pleasant from his side to rivers flowed, the one winding the other straight, and left between fair Champagne, with less rivers intervened, then meeting joined their tribute to the sea, fertile of corn the gleam of oil and wine, with herds of pasture thronged, with flocks the hills, huge cities and high towered that well might seem the seats of mightiest monarchs, and so large the prospect was that here and there was room for barren desert, fountainless and dry. To this high mountaintop the tempter brought our saviour, and new train of words began. While we have speeded, and over hill and dale, forest and field and flood, and temples and towers cut shorter many a league. Here thou beholdest Assyria, and her empire's ancient bounds, Araxes and the Caspian lake, then sawn as far as Indus East, Euphrates West, and oft beyond, to south the Persian bay and inaccessible the Arabian drowth, here Nineveh, of length within her wall several days journey, built by Ninus old, and of that first golden monarchy the seat, and seat of Salmanasar, whose success Israel in long captivity still mourns, their Babylon the wonder of all tongues, as ancient but rebuilt by him who twice Judah and all thy father David's hosts led captive, and Jerusalem laid waste till Cyrus set them free, Persepolis his city, there thou seest, and Bactra there, Ekbatana her structure vast, their shoes, and Hecatompilos her hundred gates, their Suza by Shoapses, Amber stream, the drink of none but kings, of later fame built by Amethion, or by Parthian hands, the great Seleucia, Nisibis, and there are Taksata, Teradon, Stestiphon, turning with easy eye thou mayst behold all these Parthian, now some ages past by great Arsaceis, led, who founded first that empire, under his dominion holds, from the luxurious kings of Antioch one, and just in time now comets to have a view of his great power, for now the Parthian king in Stestiphon hath gathered all his host against the Scythian, whose incursions wild have wasted Sogdiana, to her aid he marches now in haste, see though from far his thousands, in what marshal equipage they issue forth, steal bows and shafts their arms of equal dread in flight or in pursuit, all horsemen in which fight they most excel, see how in warlike mustard they appear, in roms and wedges and half-moons and wings, he looked, and saw what numbers numberless, the city gates outpoured, light-armed troops in coats of mail and military pride, in mail their horses clad yet fleet and strong, prancing their riders bore, the flower and choice of many provinces from bound to bound, from Aracosia, from Candauer east, from Margeana to the Hercanean cliffs of Caucasus, of dark Iberian dales, from Atropatia and the neighbouring plains of Adiabane, Medea and the south of Susiana to Balsara's heaven. He saw them in their forms of battle ranged, how quick they wheeled and flying behind them shot, sharp sleet of Aeroe's showers against the face of their pursuers and overcame by flight the field all iron cast a gleaming brown, nor wanted clouds of foot nor on each horn curatiers, all in steel for standing fight chariots or elephants endorsed with towers of archers, nor of labouring pioneers, a multitude with spades and axes armed. To lay hills plain fell woods or valleys fill, or where plain was raised hill or overlay. With bridges rivers proud, as with a yoke, mules after these, camels and dromedaries, and wagons fraught with utensils of war. Such forces met not, nor so wide a camp, when Agrican, with all his northern powers besieged Albrecia, as romances tell, the city of Gallifron, from thence to win the fairest of her sex Angelica, his daughter, sought by many prowess knights, both Paynham and the peers of Charlemagne. Such and so numerous was their chivalry at sight whereof the fiend yet more presumed, and to our saviour thus his words renewed. That thou mayest know I seek not to engage thy virtue, and not every way secure on no slight grounds thy safety herein mark, to what end I have brought thee hither, and shoe all this fair sight. Thy kingdom, though foretold by prophet or by angel, unless thou endeavor as thy father David did, thou never shalt obtain. Prediction still in all things as all men supposes means, without means used, what it predicts revokes. But say thou word possessed of David's throne, by free consent of all, none opposite, Samaritan or Jew, how couldst thou hope long to enjoy it quiet and secure between such enclosing enemies, Roman and Parthian? Therefore one of these thou must make sure thy own, the Parthian first, by my advice as nearer and of late, found able by invasion to annoy thy country and captive lead away her kings, Antigonus and old Hercanus bound, Moger the Roman. It shall be my task to render thee the Parthian at dispose. Choose which thou wilt, by conquest or by league, by him thou shalt regain without him not, that with alone can truly reinstall thee in David's royal seat his true successor. Deliverance of thy brethren, those ten tribes whose offspring in this territory yet serve in Haber, and among the Maydays dispersed the sons of Jacob, two of Joseph, lost thus long from Israel, serving as of old their fathers in the land of Egypt served. This offer sets before thee to deliver. These if from servitude thou shalt restore to their inheritance, then, not till then, thou on the throne of David in full glory, from Egypt to Euphrates and beyond shalt reign, and Rome or Caesar need not fear. To whom our Saviour answered thus, unmoved. Much ostentation, vain of fleshly arm and fragile arm, much instrument of war, long in preparing soon to nothing brought. Before mine eyes thou hast set, and in mine ear vented much policy and projects deep of enemies of aides, battles and leagues. Plausible to the world, to me worth not. Means I must use thou, sayest. Prediction elst will unpredict and fail me of the throne. By time I told thee, and that time for thee were better farthest off, is not yet come. When that comes. Think not thou to find me slack, on my part ought endeavouring, or to need thy politic maxims, or that cumbersome luggage of war there shone me. Argument of human weakness rather than of strength. My brethren, as thou called them, those ten tribes I must deliver, if I mean to reign David's true heir, and his full scepter sway to just extend over all Israel's sons. But whence to thee this zeal? Where was it then for Israel, or for David, or his throne when thou stoodst up to his temper, to the pride of numbering Israel, which cost the lives of three score and ten thousand Israelites by three days pestilence? Such was thy zeal to Israel's then, the same that now to me. As for those captive tribes, themselves were they who wrought their own captivity, fell off from God to worship calves, the deities of Egypt bail next and Ashtaroth, and all the idolatries of heathen round, besides their other worse than heathenish crimes. Nor in the land of their captivity, humbled themselves, or penitent besought the God of their forefathers, but so died, impenitent, and left a race behind like to themselves, distinguishable scarce from Gentiles, but by circumcision vain, and God with idols in their worship joined. Should I of these, the liberty regard, who freed, as to their ancient patrimony, unhumbled, unrepentant, unreformed, headlong would follow, and to their gods, perhaps of Bethel and of Dan? No. Let them serve their enemies who serve idols with God, yet he at length, time himself to know, remembering Abraham by some wondrous call may bring them back, repentant and sincere, and at their passing cleave the Assyrian flood, while to their native land, with joy they haste, as the Red Sea and Jordan once he cleft, when to the promised land their fathers passed. To his due time and providence I leave them. So spake Israel's true king, and to the fiend made answer meet, that made void all his wiles, so fares it when with truth falsehood contends. End of Book 3, read by Michael Sample. Paradise Regained Book 4 This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. This reading by Anna Roberts. Paradise Regained by John Milton Book 4 Perplexed and troubled at his bad success, the tempter stood, nor had what to reply, discovered in his fraud, thrown from his hope so oft, and the persuasive rhetoric that sleaked his tongue, and won so much on Eve, so little here Nay lost. But Eve was Eve, this far his overmatch, who, self-deceived and rash, beforehand, had no better way the strength that he was to cope with, or his own. But, as a man who had been matchless held in cunning, overreached where least he ought, to salve his credit, and for very spite, still will be tempting to him who foils him still, and never cease, though to his shame the more. Or, as a swarm of flies and vintage-time, about the wine-press where sweet musts is poured, beat off, returns as oft with humming-sound, or surging waves against a solid rock, though all to shivers dashed, the assault renew, vain battery, and in froth or bubble's end, so Satan, whom repulse upon repulse met ever, and to shameful silence brought, yet gives not or, though desperate of success, and his vain importunity pursues. He brought our saviour to the western side of that high mountain, whence he might behold another plain, long, but in breadth not wide, washed by the southern sea, and on the north, to equal length backed with a ridge of hills, that screen the fruits of the earth, and seats of men, from cold subtentry and blasts. Thence, in the midst divided by a river, off whose banks on each side an imperial city stood, with towers and temples proudly elevate, on seven small hills, with palaces adorned, porches and theatres, baths, aqueducts, statues and trophies, and triumphal arcs, gardens and groves, presented to his eyes above the height of mountains interposed, by what strange parallax, or optic skill of vision, multiplied through air or glass of telescope, were curious to inquire, and now the tempter thus his silence broke. The city which thou seest, no other deem than great and glorious brome, queen of the earth so far renowned, and with the spoils enriched of nations, there the capital thou seest, above the rest lifting his stately head on the Tarpeyn rock, her citadel impregnable, and there Mount Palatine, the imperial palace, compass huge and high the structure, skill of noblest architects, with gilded battlements, conspicuous far, turrets and terraces and glittering spires. Many a fair edifice besides, more like houses of gods, so well I have disposed my airy microscope, thou mayest behold, outside and inside both, pillars and roofs carved work, the hand of famed artificers, in cedar, marble, ivory or gold. Thence to the gates cast round thine eye, and see what conflicts issuing forth or entering in, praetors, pro-consoles to their provinces hasting, or on return in robes of state, lictors and rods, the incense of their power, legions and cohorts, terms of horse and wings, or embassies from regions far remote, in various habits, on the Appian road, or on the Emillian, some from farthest south, Sain, and where the shadow both way falls, Mero, Nalotic Isle, and, more to west, the realm of Bacchus to the Blackmore Sea, from the Asian kings and Parthian among these, from India and the Golden Chersonesse, and utmost Indian Isle Taprobane, dusk faces with white silken turban's wreath, from Galea, Gades, and the British west, Germans and Scythians, and Sarmatians north beyond Danubias to the Tauric pool, all nations now to Rome obedience pay, to Rome's great emperor, whose wide domain in ample territory, wealth and power, civility of manners, arts and arms, and long renown, thou justly mace prefer before the Parthian. These two thrones, except the rest are barbarous, and scarce worth the sight, shared among petty kings too far removed, these having shun thee, I have shun thee all, the kingdoms of the world and all their glory. This emperor hath no son, and now is old, old and the civius, and from Rome retired to Caprae, an island small but strong on the companion shore, with purpose there his horrid lusts in private to enjoy, committing to a wicked favorite all public cares, and yet of him suspicious, hated of all, and hating. With what ease, endued with regal virtues as thou art, appearing, and beginning noble deeds, mightest thou expel this monster from his throne, now made a sty, and, in his place ascending, a victor people free from servile yoke, and with my help thou mayest, to me the power is given, and by that right I give it thee. Aim therefore at no less than all the world, aim at the highest, without the highest attained, will be for thee no sitting or not long on David's throne be prophesied what will. To whom the Son of God unmoved replied, nor doth this grandeur and majesty shoe of luxury, though called magnificence, more than of arms before, allure mine I, much less my mind, though thou shouldst add to tell their sumptuous gluttonies and gorgeous feasts on citron tables, or atlantic stone, for I have also heard, perhaps have read, their wines of sedia, kales, and falern, chios, and crete, and how they quaff in gold, crystal, and marine cups, embossed with gems and studs of pearl, to me shouldst tell, who thirst and hunger still. Then embassies thou showst from far and nigh, what honour that, but tedious waste of time, to sit and hear so many hollow compliments and lies, outlandish flatteries, then proceedst to talk of the Emperor, how easily subdued, how gloriously. I shall, thou sayest, expel a brutish monster, what if I, with all, expel a devil who first made him such? Let his tormentor conscience find him out, for I was not sent, nor yet to free that people, Victor once, now vile in base, deservedly made vassal, who, once just, frugal, and mild, and temperate, conquered well, but govern ill the nations under yoke, peeling their provinces, exhausted all by lusts and repine, first ambitious groan of triumph, that insulting vanity, then cruel, by their sports to blood and oard, of fighting beasts, and men to beasts exposed, luxurious by their wealth, and greedier still, and from the daily seen effeminate. What wise and valiant man would seek to free these, thus degenerate, by themselves enslaved, or could of inward slaves make outward free? No, therefore, when my season comes to sit on David's throne, it shall be like a tree, spreading and overshadowing all the earth, or as a stone, that shall to pieces dash all monarchies besides, throughout the world, and of my kingdom there shall be no end. Means there shall be to this, but what the means is not for thee to know, nor me to tell. To whom the tempter, impudent, replied, I see all offers made by me how slight thou valuest, because offered and rejectest. Nothing will please the difficult and nice, or nothing more than still to contradict. On the other side know also thou, that I, on what I offer, set as high esteem, nor what I part with mean to give for not, all these, which in a moment thou beholdest, the kingdoms of the world, to thee I give, forgiven to me, I give to whom I please, no trifle. Yet with this reserve, not else, on this condition, if thou wilt fall down and worship me as thy superior Lord, easily done, and hold them all of me, for what can less so great a gift deserve? Whom thus our Saviour answered with disdain, I never like thy talk, thy offers less, now both abhor, since thou hast dared to utter the abominable terms in pious condition. But I endure the time till which expired thou hast permission on me. It is written, the first of all commandments, Thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, and only him shalt serve, and darest thou, to the Son of God, propound to worship thee accursed, now more accursed for this attempt, bolder than that on Eve, and more blasphemous, which expect to rue, the kingdoms of the world to thee were given, permitted rather, and by thee usurped, other donation none thou canst produce. If given, by whom, but by the king of kings, God overall supreme, if given to thee, by thee how fairly is the giver now repaid, but gratitude in thee is lost long since. Worth thou so void of fear or shame as offer them to me, the Son of God, to me my own, on such abhorred pact, that I fall down and worship thee as God? Get thee behind me, plain thou now appears to that evil one, Satan forever damned. To whom the fiend, with fear abashed, replied, Be not so sore offended, Son of God, though sons of God both angels are and men, if I, to try weather and hire sort, than these thou bearest that title, have proposed, what both for men and angels I receive, tetrocs of fire, air, flood, and on the earth, nations besides from all the quartered winds, God of this world invoked and world beneath. Who then, thou art, whose coming is foretold to me most fatal, me at most concerns? The trial hath in damage thee no way, rather, more honor left and more esteem, me not advantaged, missing what I aimed. Therefore let pass, as they are transitory the kingdoms of this world, I shall no more advise thee, gain them as thou canst or not. And thou thyself seemest otherwise inclined, than to a worldly crown, addicted more to contemplation and profound dispute, as by that early action may be gained. When, slipping from thy mother's eye, thou wentest alone into the temple, there was found among the gravest rabbis, disputant on points and questions, fitting Moses' chair, teaching not taught. The childhood shows the man, as morning shows the day. Be famous, then, by wisdom, as thy empire must extend, so that extend thy mind or all the world in knowledge, all things in it comprehend. All knowledge is not couched in Moses' law, the Pentateuch or what the prophets wrote, the Gentiles also know and write and teach to admiration, led by nature's light, and with the Gentiles much thou must converse, ruling them by persuasion as thou meanest. Without their learning, how wilt thou with them, or they with thee hold conversation meet? How wilt thou reason with them, how refute their idolism's traditions, paradoxes? Error by his own arms is best evinced. Look once more ere we leave this specular mount, westward, much nearer by southwest. Behold, where on the Aegean shore a city stands, built nobly, pure the air, and light the soil. Athens, the eye of Greece, mother of arts and eloquence, native to famous wits or hospitable in her sweet recess, city or suburban, studious walks and shades. See there the olive grove of Akademe, Plato's retirement, where the attic bird trills her thick warbled notes the summer long. There, flowery hill, Hymetis, with the sound of bee's industrious murmur, often vise to studious musing. There Elysis rouse his whispering stream. Within the walls then view the schools of ancient sages, his who bred great Alexander to subdue the world, Lyceum there, and painted Stoa next. There thou shalt hear and learn the secret power of harmony, in tones and numbers hit by voice or hand, and various measured verse, Aeolian charms and Dorian lyric odes, and his who gave them breath but higher sung, blind Melisigenes, thence Homer called, whose poem Phoebus challenged for his own. Thence what the lofty grave tragedians taught in Chorus Oriambic, teachers best of moral prudence, with delight received in brief sententious precepts, while they treat a fate and chance and change in human life, high actions and high passions best describing. Thence to the famous orator's repair, those ancient whose resistless eloquence wielded at will that fierce democracy shook the arsenal and full mind over Greece to Macedon and Artaxerxes throne. To sage philosophy next lend thine ear, from heaven descended to the low-roofed house of Socrates, see there his tenement, whom, well inspired, the oracle pronounced wisest of men, from whose mouth issued forth millifluous streams, that watered all the schools of academics old and new, with those surnamed parapetetics, and the sect Epicurean, and the Stoic Severe. These here revolve, or as thou likest, at home, till time mature thee to a kingdom's weight, these rules will render thee a king complete within thyself, much more with empire joined, to whom our Savior sagely thus replied, Think not but that I know these things, or think I know them not, therefore am I short of knowing what I ought. He who receives light from above, from the fountain of light, no other doctrine needs, though granted true, but these are false, or little else but dreams, conjectures, fancies, built on nothing firm. The first and wisest of them all profess to know this only, that he nothing knew, the next, to fabling fell, and smooth conceits. A third sort doubted all things, though plain sense. Others in virtue placed felicity, but virtue joined with riches and long life. In corporeal pleasure he, and careless ease. The Stoic lasts in philosophic pride, by him called virtue, and his virtuous man, wise, perfect in himself, and all possessing, equal to God, offshames not to prefer, as fearing God nor man, condemning all wealth, pleasure, pain, or torment, death, and life, which, when he lists, he leaves, or boasts he can. For all his tedious talk is but vain boast, or subtle shifts conviction to evade. Alas, what can they teach and not mislead, ignorant of themselves, of God much more, and how the world began, and how men fell, degraded by himself, on grace, depending. Much of the soul they talk, but all arrive, and in themselves seek virtue, and to themselves all glory irrigate, to God give none, rather accuse him under usual names, fortune, and fate, as one regardless quite of moral things. Who therefore seeks in these true wisdom finds her not, or, by delusion far worse, her false resemblance only meets, an empty cloud. However, many books, wise men have said, are wearisome, who reads incessantly, and to his reading brings not a spirit and judgment equal or superior, and what he brings, what needs he elsewhere seek, uncertain and unsettled still remains, deep first in books, and shallow in himself, crude or intoxicate, collecting toys and trifles for choice matters, worth a sponge, as children gathering pebbles on the shore. Or if I would delight my private hours with music or with poem, wear so soon as in our native language can I find that solace. All our law and story, strewed with hymns, our songs with artful terms inscribed, our Hebrew songs and harps, in Babylon that please so well our victor's ear, declare that rather Greece from us these arts derived, ill-imitated, while they loudest sing the vices of their deities, and their own in fable hymn or song, so personating their God's ridiculous and themselves past shame. Remove their swelling epithets, thick laid as varnish on a harlot's cheek, the rest, thin sown with awe of prophet or delight, will far be found unworthy to compare with Zion's songs to all true tastes excelling, where God has praised the right and God like men, the holiest of holies and his saints, such are from God inspired, not such from thee, unless, where moral virtue is expressed by light of nature, not in all quite lost. Their orators thou then extolest as those the top of eloquence, statists indeed and lovers of their country as may seem, but herein to our prophets far beneath, as men divinely taught and better teaching the solid rules of civil government in their majestic unaffected style than all the oratory of Greece and Rome. In them is plainest taught and easiest learned what makes a nation happy and keeps it so, what ruins kingdoms and lays cities flat, these only with our law, best form a king. So spake the Son of God, but Satan, now quiet at a loss, for all his darts were spent, thus to our Saviour with stern brow replied, Since neither wealth nor honour, arms nor arts, kingdom nor empire pleases thee, Nor art by me proposed in life contemplative or active, tended on by glory or fame, What dost thou in this world? The wilderness for thee is fittest place, I found thee there, and thither will return thee. Yet remember what I foretell thee. Soon thou shalt have caused to wish thou never haths rejected, thus nicely or cautiously, my offered aid, which would have set thee in short time with ease on David's throne, or throne of all the world, now at full age, fullness of time, thy season, when prophecies of thee are best fulfilled. Now contrary, if I read odd in heaven, or heaven write odd of fate, by what the stars voluminous or single characters in their conjunction met, give me to spell, sorrows and labours, opposition hate attends thee, scorns reproaches, injuries, violence and stripes, and lastly, cruel death. A kingdom they portend thee, but what kingdom, real or allegoric I cannot discern, nor when, eternal sure as without end, without beginning, for no date prefixed, directs me in the starry rubric set. So saying, he took, for still he knew his power not yet expired, and to the wilderness brought back the Son of God and left him there, feigning to disappear. Darkness now rose as daylight sunk, and brought in luring night, her shadowy offspring, unsubstantial both, probation mere of light and absent day. Our Saviour, meek, and with untroubled mind after his airy jaunt, though hurried sore, hungry and cold, betook him to his rest, wherever under some concourse of shades, whose branching arms thick intertwined might shield from doos and damps of night his sheltered head. But sheltered slept in vain, for at his head the tempter watched, and soon with ugly dreams disturbed his sleep. And either tropic now gan thunder, and both ends of heaven, the clouds from many a horrid rift abortive poured fierce rain with lightning mixed, water with fire in ruin reconciled. Nor slept the winds within their stony caves, but rushed abroad from the four hinges of the world, and fell on the vexed wilderness, whose tallest pines, though rooted deep as high, and sturdiest oaks, bowed their stiff necks, loaden with stormy blasts, or torn up sheer. Ill was thou shrouded then, O patient son of God, yet only stoodst unshaken. Nor yet stayed the terror there, infernal ghosts and hellish furies round and virundy. Some howled, some yelled, some shrieked, some mentethy their fiery darts, while thou saddest unappalled in calm and sinless peace. Thus passed the night so foul, till morning fair came forth with pilgrim steps, in Amos Gray, who with her radiant finger still the roar of thunder chased the clouds, and laid the winds, and greasely specters, which the fiend had raised to tempt the son of God with terror's dire. And now the sun, with more effectual beams, had cheered the face of the earth, and dried the wet from drooping plant, or dropping tree. The birds, who all things now behold more fresh and green, after a night of storm so ruinous, cleared up their choices notes, in bush and in spray, to gratulate the sweet return of mourn. Nor yet, amidst this joy and brightest mourn, was absent after all his mischief done, the Prince of Darkness. Glad would also seem of this fair change, and to our Savior came. Yet with no new device, they all were spent. Rather, by this his last affront resolved, desperate of better course to vent his rage and mad despite to be so off-repelled. Him walking on a sunny hill he found, backed on the north and west by thick wood, and out of the wood he starts in wanted shape, and in a careless mood thus to him said, Fair morning yet betides thee, son of God, after a dismal night. I heard the rack, as earth and sky would mingle, but myself was distant. And these flaws, though mortals fear them, as dangerous to the pillared frame of heaven or to the earth's dark basis underneath, are to the main as inconsiderable and harmless, if not wholesome as a sneeze to man's less universe, and soon are gone. Yet, as being off-times noxious where they light on man, beast, plant, wasteful and turbulent, like turbulences in the affairs of men, over whose heads they roar and seem to point, they oft force signify and threaten ill. This tempest at this desert most was bent, of men at thee, for only thou here dwellest. Did I not tell thee, if thou didst reject the perfect season offered with my aid, to win thy destined seat, but wilt prolong all to the push of fate? Pursue thy way of gaining David's throne no man knows when, for both the when and the how is nowhere told. Thou shalt be what thou art ordained, no doubt, for angels have proclaimed it, but concealing the time and means. Each act is rightly as done, not when it must, but when it may be best. If thou observe not this, be sure to find what I foretold thee. Many a hard assay of dangers and adversities and pains, ere thou of Israel's scepter get fast hold, whereof this ominous night that close thee round, so many terrors, voices, prodigies, may warn thee, as a sure for a going sign. So talk thee, while the Son of God went on, and stayed not, but in brief him answered thus. Me worse than wet thou findest not, other harm those terrors which thou speakest of did me none. I never feared they could, though noising loud and threatening nigh. What they can do is signs betokening or ill boating, I condemn as false portents, not sent from God but thee, who, knowing I shall reign past thy preventing, obtrudest thy offered aid. That I, accepting, at least, might seem to hold all power of thee, ambitious spirit, and wouldst be thought my God, and stormest refused, thinking to terrify me to thy will. Desist, thou art discerned, and toilest in vain, nor me in vain molest, to whom the fiend, now swollen with rage, replied, Then hero, son of David, virgin born, for son of God to me is yet in doubt. Of the Messiah I have heard foretold by all the prophets, of thy birth at length announced by Gabriel, with the first I knew, and of the angelic song in Bethlehem field, on thy birth night, that sung thee, saviour born. From that time seldom have I ceased to eye thy infancy, thy childhood, and thy youth, thy manhood last, though yet in private bread, till at the fort of Jordan, wither all flocked to see the Baptist, I among the rest, though not to be baptized. By voice from heaven heard thee pronounce the Son of God beloved. Thenceforth I thought thee worth my nearer view, and narrower scrutiny, that I might learn in what degree or meaning thou art called the Son of God, which bears no single sense. The Son of God I also am, or was, and if I was I am. Relations stands. All men are sons of God, yet thee I thought in some respect far higher so declared. Therefore I watched thy footsteps from that hour, and followed thee still on to this waste wild, where by all best conjectures I collect thou art to be my fatal enemy. Good reason, then, if I beforehand seek to understand my adversary, who and what he is, his wisdom, power, intent, by parlay or composition, truce or league, to win him, or win from him what I can. And opportunity I here have had to try thee, sift thee, and confess have found thee proof against all temptation, as a rock of adamant, and as a center, firm to the utmost of mere man, both wise and good, not more, for honors, riches, kingdoms, glory, have been before condemned, and may again. Therefore, to know what more thou art than man, worth naming the Son of God by voice from heaven, another method I must now begin. So saying, he caught him up, and without wing of Hippogriff, bore through the air sublime, over the wilderness and o'er the plain, till underneath him fair Jerusalem the holy city lifted high her towers, and higher yet the glorious temple reared her pile, far off appearing like a mount of alabaster, topped with golden spires. There, on the highest pinnacle, he set the Son of God, and added thus in scorn. There stand, if thou wilt stand, to stand upright will ask thee skill. I to thy father's house have brought thee, and highest placed, highest is best. Now shoo thy progeny, if not to stand, cast thyself down. Safely, if Son of God, for it is written, he will give command concerning thee to his angels, in their hands they shall uplift thee, lest at any time thou chance to dash thy foot against a stone. To whom, thus Jesus, also it is written, Tempt not the Lord thy God, he said and stood, but Satan, smitten with amazement, fell. As when earth's son Antaeus, to compare small things with greatest, in Eras a strove with Joe's alcides, and off foiled still rose, receiving from his mother earth new strength, fresh from his fall, and fiercer grapple joined, throttled at length, and the air expired and fell. So, after many a foil, the tempter proud, renewing fresh assaults amidst his pride, fell, whence he stood to see his victor fall. And, as that Theban monster that proposed her riddle, and him who solved it not devoured, that once found out and solved, for grief and spite cast herself headlong from the Ismanian steep, so, struck with dread and anguish, fell the fiend. And to his crew, that sat consulting, brought joyless triumphals of his hoped success, ruin and desperation, and dismay, who durst so proudly tempt the Son of God. So Satan fell, and straight, a fiery globe of angels on full sail of wing flew nigh, who on their plumey vans received him soft from his uneasy station, and up-bore, as on a floating couch, through the blithe air. Then, in a flowery valley, sat him down on green bank, and set before him spread a table of celestial food, divine and brogial fruits fetched from the tree of life, and from the fount of life and brogial drink, that soon refreshed him wearied, and repaired what hunger, if ought hunger, had impaired or thirst. And, as he fed, angelic queries, sung heavenly anthems of his victory, over temptation and the tempter proud. True image of the Father, whether thrown in the bosom of bliss, and light of light conceiving, or remote from heaven, and shrined in fleshly tabernacle and human form, wandering the wilderness, whatever place, habit, or state, or motion, still expressing the Son of God, with God-like force, and due to the attempt of thy Father's throne and thief of Paradise. Him long of old thou didst debel, and down from heaven cast with all his army. Now thou hast avenged, supplanted Adam, and, by vanquishing temptation, hast regained lost Paradise, and frustrated the conquest fraudulent. He nevermore henceforth will dare set foot in Paradise to tempt, his snares are broke. For, though that seat of earthly bliss be failed, a fairer Paradise is founded now for Adam and his chosen sons, whom thou, a Saviour, art come down to reinstall, where they shall dwell secure when time shall be of tempter and temptation without fear. But thou, infernal serpent, shalt not long rule in the clouds. Like an autumnal star, or lightning, thou shalt fall from heaven, trod down under his feet. For proof ere this thou feelest thy wound, yet not thy last and deadliest wound. By this repulse received, and holdest in hell no triumph. In all her gates Abaddon ruse thy bold attempt. Hereafter learn with awe to dread the Son of God. He, all unarmed, shall chase thee, with the terror of his voice. From thy demonic holds, possession foul, thee and thy legions, yelling they shall fly, and beg to hide them in a herd of swine, lest he command them down into the deep, bound, and to torment sent before their time. Hail, son of the Most High, heir of both worlds, Queller of Satan! On thy glorious work now enter, and begin to save mankind. Thus they, the Son of God, our Saviour meek, sung victor, and from heavenly feast refreshed, brought on his way with joy. He, unobserved, home to his mother's house, private, returned. End of Book Four. End of Paradise Regained by John Milton.