Paradise Lost by John Milton (crime books to read .TXT) 📖

All night the dreadless Angel, unpursued, Through Heaven’s wide champain held his way; till Morn, Waked by the circling Hours, with rosy hand Unbarred the gates of light. There is a cave Within the mount of God, fast by his throne, Where light and darkness in perpetual round Lodge and dislodge by turns, which makes through Heaven Grateful vicissitude, like day and night; Light issues forth, and at the other door Obsequious darkness enters, till her hour To veil the Heaven, though darkness there might well Seem twilight here: And now went forth the Morn Such as in highest Heaven arrayed in gold Empyreal; from before her vanished Night, Shot through with orient beams; when all the plain Covered with thick embattled squadrons bright, Chariots, and flaming arms, and fiery steeds, Reflecting blaze on blaze, first met his view: War he perceived, war in procinct; and found Already known what he for news had thought To have reported: Gladly then he mixed Among those friendly Powers, who him received With joy and acclamations loud, that one, That of so many myriads fallen, yet one Returned not lost. On to the sacred hill They led him high applauded, and present Before the seat supreme; from whence a voice, From midst a golden cloud, thus mild was heard.

Servant of God. Well done; well hast thou fought The better fight, who single hast maintained Against revolted multitudes the cause Of truth, in word mightier than they in arms; And for the testimony of truth hast borne Universal reproach, far worse to bear Than violence; for this was all thy care To stand approved in sight of God, though worlds Judged thee perverse: The easier conquest now Remains thee, aided by this host of friends, Back on thy foes more glorious to return, Than scorned thou didst depart; and to subdue By force, who reason for their law refuse, Right reason for their law, and for their King Messiah, who by right of merit reigns.

Go, Michael, of celestial armies prince, And thou, in military prowess next,

Gabriel, lead forth to battle these my sons Invincible; lead forth my armed Saints, By thousands and by millions, ranged for fight, Equal in number to that Godless crew Rebellious: Them with fire and hostile arms Fearless assault; and, to the brow of Heaven Pursuing, drive them out from God and bliss, Into their place of punishment, the gulf Of Tartarus, which ready opens wide

His fiery Chaos to receive their fall.

So spake the Sovran Voice, and clouds began To darken all the hill, and smoke to roll In dusky wreaths, reluctant flames, the sign Of wrath awaked; nor with less dread the loud Ethereal trumpet from on high ‘gan blow: At which command the Powers militant, That stood for Heaven, in mighty quadrate joined Of union irresistible, moved on

In silence their bright legions, to the sound Of instrumental harmony, that breathed Heroick ardour to adventurous deeds

Under their Godlike leaders, in the cause Of God and his Messiah. On they move Indissolubly firm; nor obvious hill, Nor straitening vale, nor wood, nor stream, divides Their perfect ranks; for high above the ground Their march was, and the passive air upbore Their nimble tread; as when the total kind Of birds, in orderly array on wing,

Came summoned over Eden to receive

Their names of thee; so over many a tract Of Heaven they marched, and many a province wide, Tenfold the length of this terrene: At last, Far in the horizon to the north appeared From skirt to skirt a fiery region, stretched In battailous aspect, and nearer view Bristled with upright beams innumerable Of rigid spears, and helmets thronged, and shields Various, with boastful argument portrayed, The banded Powers of Satan hasting on With furious expedition; for they weened That self-same day, by fight or by surprise, To win the mount of God, and on his throne To set the Envier of his state, the proud Aspirer; but their thoughts proved fond and vain In the mid way: Though strange to us it seemed At first, that Angel should with Angel war, And in fierce hosting meet, who wont to meet So oft in festivals of joy and love

Unanimous, as sons of one great Sire, Hymning the Eternal Father: But the shout Of battle now began, and rushing sound Of onset ended soon each milder thought.

High in the midst, exalted as a God, The Apostate in his sun-bright chariot sat, Idol of majesty divine, enclosed

With flaming Cherubim, and golden shields; Then lighted from his gorgeous throne, for now “twixt host and host but narrow space was left, A dreadful interval, and front to front Presented stood in terrible array

Of hideous length: Before the cloudy van, On the rough edge of battle ere it joined, Satan, with vast and haughty strides advanced, Came towering, armed in adamant and gold; Abdiel that sight endured not, where he stood Among the mightiest, bent on highest deeds, And thus his own undaunted heart explores.

O Heaven! that such resemblance of the Highest Should yet remain, where faith and realty Remain not: Wherefore should not strength and might There fail where virtue fails, or weakest prove Where boldest, though to fight unconquerable?

His puissance, trusting in the Almighty’s aid, I mean to try, whose reason I have tried Unsound and false; nor is it aught but just, That he, who in debate of truth hath won, Should win in arms, in both disputes alike Victor; though brutish that contest and foul, When reason hath to deal with force, yet so Most reason is that reason overcome.

So pondering, and from his armed peers Forth stepping opposite, half-way he met His daring foe, at this prevention more Incensed, and thus securely him defied.

Proud, art thou met? thy hope was to have reached The highth of thy aspiring unopposed, The throne of God unguarded, and his side Abandoned, at the terrour of thy power Or potent tongue: Fool!not to think how vain Against the Omnipotent to rise in arms; Who out of smallest things could, without end, Have raised incessant armies to defeat Thy folly; or with solitary hand

Reaching beyond all limit, at one blow, Unaided, could have finished thee, and whelmed Thy legions under darkness: But thou seest All are not of thy train; there be, who faith Prefer, and piety to God, though then To thee not visible, when I alone

Seemed in thy world erroneous to dissent From all: My sect thou seest;now learn too late How few sometimes may know, when thousands err.

Whom the grand foe, with scornful eye askance, Thus answered. Ill for thee, but in wished hour Of my revenge, first sought for, thou returnest From flight, seditious Angel! to receive Thy merited reward, the first assay

Of this right hand provoked, since first that tongue, Inspired with contradiction, durst oppose A third part of the Gods, in synod met Their deities to assert; who, while they feel Vigour divine within them, can allow Omnipotence to none. But well thou comest Before thy fellows, ambitious to win From me some plume, that thy success may show Destruction to the rest: This pause between, (Unanswered lest thou boast) to let thee know, At first I thought that Liberty and Heaven To heavenly souls had been all one; but now I see that most through sloth had rather serve, Ministring Spirits, trained up in feast and song!

Such hast thou armed, the minstrelsy of Heaven, Servility with freedom to contend,

As both their deeds compared this day shall prove.

To whom in brief thus Abdiel stern replied.

Apostate! still thou errest, nor end wilt find Of erring, from the path of truth remote: Unjustly thou depravest it with the name Of servitude, to serve whom God ordains, Or Nature: God and Nature bid the same, When he who rules is worthiest, and excels Them whom he governs. This is servitude, To serve the unwise, or him who hath rebelled Against his worthier, as thine now serve thee, Thyself not free, but to thyself enthralled; Yet lewdly darest our ministring upbraid.

Reign thou in Hell, thy kingdom; let me serve In Heaven God ever blest, and his divine Behests obey, worthiest to be obeyed; Yet chains in Hell, not realms, expect: Mean while From me returned, as erst thou saidst, from flight, This greeting on thy impious crest receive.

So saying, a noble stroke he lifted high, Which hung not, but so swift with tempest fell On the proud crest of Satan, that no sight, Nor motion of swift thought, less could his shield, Such ruin intercept: Ten paces huge He back recoiled; the tenth on bended knee His massy spear upstaid; as if on earth Winds under ground, or waters forcing way, Sidelong had pushed a mountain from his seat, Half sunk with all his pines. Amazement seised The rebel Thrones, but greater rage, to see Thus foiled their mightiest; ours joy filled, and shout, Presage of victory, and fierce desire Of