Space may produce new worlds; whereof so rife There went a fame in Heav'n that he ere long Intended to create and therein plant
A generation, whom his choice regard Should favour equal to the sons of Heaven: Thither, if but to pry, shall be perhaps. Our first eruption, thither or elsewhere; For this infernal pit shall never hold Celestial Spirits in bondage, nor th' abyss Long under darkness cover. But these thoughts Full counsel must mature: Peace is despair'd, For who can think submission? War then, War Open or understood, must be resolv'd."
He spake and, to confirm his words, out flew Millions of flaming swords, drawn from the thighs Of mighty Cherubim; the sudden blaze Far round illumin'd Hell: highly they rag'd Against the High'est, and fierce with grasped arms Clash'd on their sounding shields the din of war, Hurling defiance toward the vault of Heav'n. There stood a hill not far, whose grisly top
Belch'd fire and roling smoke; the rest entire Shone with a glossy scurf, undoubted sign That in his womb was hid metallic ore,
The work of sulphur. Thither, wing'd with speed,
A numerous brigade hasten'd: as when bands
Of pioneers, with spade and pickax arm'd,
Forerun the royal camp, to trench a field,
Or cast a rampart. Mammon led them on;
Mammon, the last erected Spirit that fell
From Heav'n; for e'en in Heav'n his looks and thought
For freasures better hid.
Soon had his crew Open'd into the hill a spacious wound, And digg'd out ribs of gold. Let none admire That riches grow in hell; that soil may best Reserve the precious bane. And here let those, Who boast in mortal things, and, wond'ring, tell Of Babel and the works of Memphian kings, Learn how their greatest monuments of fame, And strength and art, are easily out-done By Spirits reprobate, and in an hour What in an age they, with incessant toil And hands innumerable, scarce perform Nigh on the plain, in many cells prepar'd, That underneath had veins of liquid fire Sluic'd from the lake, a second multitude With wondrous art founded the massy ore,
Severing each kind, and scumm'd the bullion dross
A third as soon had form'd within the ground
À various mould, and from the boiling cells,
By strange conveyance, fill'd each hollow nook;
As in an organ from one blast of wind.
To many a row of pipes the sound-board breathes.
The roof was fretted gold. Not Babylon,
Nor great Alcairo, such magnificence Equall'd in all their glories, to inshrine Belus or Serapis their Gods, or seat
Their kings, when Egypt with Assyria strove In wealth and luxury. Th' ascending pile
Stood fix'd her stately height; and straight the doors, Op'ning their brazen folds, discover wide Within her ample spaces o'er the smooth And level pavement; from the arched roof,
Pendent by subtle magic, many a row Of starry lamps and blazing cressets, fed With Naptha and Asphaltus, yielded light As from a sky. The hasty multitude, Admiring, enter'd; and the work some praise, And some the architect; his hand was known In Heav'n by many a tow'red structure high, Where scepter'd angels held their residence, And sat as princes, whom the supreme King Exalted to such pow'r, and gave to rule, Each in his hierarchy, the orders bright. Nor was his name unheard or unador'd In ancient Greece; and in Ausonian land Men call'd him Mulciber; and how he fell From Heav'n they fabled, thrown by angry Jove Sheer o'er the crystal battlements; from morn To noon he fell, from noon to dewy eve, A summer's day; and with the setting sun Dropt from the zenith like a falling star, On Lemnos th' Egean isle; thus they relate, Erring; for he with this rebellious rout
Fell long before; nor aught avail'd him now
T have built in Heav'n high tow's; nor did he 'scape By all his engines, but was headlong sent
With his industrious crew to build in Hell.
By place or choice, the worthiest; they anon
With hundreds and with thousands trooping came Attended; all access was throng'd, the gates And porches wide, but chief the spacious hall (Though like a cover'd field, where champions bold Wont ride in arm'd, and at the Soldan's chair Defy'd the best of Panim chivalry
To mortal combat, or career with lance)
Thick swarm'd, both on the ground and in the air, Brush'd with the hiss of rustling wings. As bees In spring time, when the sun with Taurus rides, Pour forth their populous youth about the hive In clusters; they among fresh dews and flowers Fly to and fro, or on the smoothed plank, The suburb of their straw built citadel, New rubb'd with balm, expatiate and confer Their state affairs; so thick the airy crowd Swarm'd and were straiten'd; till the signal giv'n Behold a wonder! they, but now who seem'd In bigness to surpass earth's giant sons,
Now less than smallest dwarfs, in narrow room Throng'd numberless; like that pygmean race Beyond the Indian mount, or fairy elves, Whose midnight revels, by a forest side Or fountain, some belated peasant sees, Or dreams he sees, while overhead the moon Sits arbitress, and nearer to the earth
Wheels her pale corse, they, on their mirth and dance Intent, with jocund music charm his ear;
At once with joy and fear his heart rebounds.
Thus incorporeal Spirits to smallest forms
Reduc'd their shapes immense, and were at large, Though without number, still amidst the hall Of that infernal court. But far within,
And in their own dimensions like themselves, The great Seraphic Lords and Cherubim In close recess and secret conclave sat, A thousand Demi-gods on golden seats, Frequent and full. After short silence then, And summons read, the great consult began.
END OF THE FIRST BOOK.
« ПредыдущаяПродолжить » |