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03 - Paradise Lost - John Milton · Sacred Texts Archive

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Book five, Part one. Now morn her rosy steps, the eastern clime
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advancing sowed the earth with orient pearl. What Adam waked so customed for his
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sleep was airy light from pure digestion, bred and temperate vapors bland, which
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the only sound of leaves and fuming rills, Aurora's fan lightly dispersed, and
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the shrill matten song of birds on every bough. So much the more his
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wonder was to find unwaken'd Eve, with tresses discomposed and glowing cheek as through
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unquiet rest. He on his side, leaning half raised, with looks of
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cordial love hung over her, enamor'd and beheld beauty, which, whether waking
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or asleep, shot forth peculiar graces. Then, with voice mild as when
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Zephyrus on Flora breathes her hand, soft touching, whisper'd. Thus awake,
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my fairest, my espous'd, my latest found, Heaven's last best gift,
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my ever new delight. Awake. The morning shines, and the fresh field
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calls us. We lose the prime to mark how spring our tended plans,
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how blows the citron grove? What drops the mirror? And what the balmy
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reed, how nature paints her colors, how the beast sits on the bloom,
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extracting liquid. Sweet. Such whispering waked her, but with startled eye
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on Adam, whom embracing thus she spake a soul in whom my thoughts find
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all repose, my glory, my perfection. Glad I see thy face and
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morn returned for I this night, such night till this I never passed,
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have dream'd, if dreamed, not as I oft am want of thee works
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of day past or Morrow's next design, but of offense and trouble, which
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my mind knew never till this irksome night. Methought close at mine, ear
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one call'd me forth to walk with gentle voice. I thought it thine,
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it said, why sleep'st thou eve? Now is the pleasant time, the
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cool, the silent save where silence yields to the night warbling bird that now
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awake, tuned sweetest his love labor'd song now reigns full orb'd the moon,
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and with more pleasing light, shadowy sets off the face of things in vain.
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If none regard, Heaven wakes with all his eyes whom to behold but
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thee Nature's desire in whose sight all things joy with ravishment, Attracted by thy
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beauty, still to gaze, I rose as at thy call, but found
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thee, not to find thee directed than my walk, And on me thought
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alone, I passed through ways that brought me on a sudden to the tree
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of interdicted knowledge. Fair it seem'd much fairer to my fancy than by day.
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And as I, wondering looked beside it stood one shaped and winged,
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like one of those from heaven. By us oft seen his dewy locks distilled
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ambrosia. On that tree. He also gazed, and o fair plants,
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said he, with fruits surcharged, deigns, no untease thy load and taste
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thy sweet. Nor God nor man is knowledge so despised or envy, or
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what reserve forbids to taste? Forbid? Who will none shall from me withhold
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longer thy offered good? Why else? Set here? Thus said he paused,
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not but with venturous arm he plucked. He tasted me damp horror,
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chilled at such bold words, vouched with a deed so bold. But he
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thus overjoyed, Oh fruit, divine sweet of thyself, but much more sweet,
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thus cropped forbidden here it seems as only fit for gods, yet able
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to make gods of men, And why not gods of men? Since good,
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the more communicated, more abundant, grows the author not impaired, but
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honored more. Here, happy creature, fair, angelic eve, partake thou
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also happy, Though thou art happier, thou mayst be worthier, canst not
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be taste this? And be henceforth among the gods, thyself a goddess,
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not to earth confined, but sometimes in the air, as we sometimes ascend
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to heaven. By merit thine, and see what life the gods live there,
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and such live thou so saying, he drew nigh and to me held
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even to my mouth of that same fruit, held part which he had plucked.
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The pleasant savory smell so quickened appetite that I methought could not but taste.
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Forthwith up to the clouds with him, I flew, and underneath beheld
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the earth outstretched, immense, a prospect, wide and various, wondering at
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my flight, and changed to this high exaltation. Suddenly my guide was gone,
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and I, methought sunk down and fell asleep. But ah, how
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glad I wake to find the but a dream, thus eve her night related,
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and thus Adam answered sap best image of myself and dearer half the trouble
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of thy thoughts this night and sleep affects me equally. Nor can I like
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this uncouth dream of evil sprung. I fear yet evil, whence indeed can
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harbor none created pure, But know that in the soul are many lesser faculties
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that serve reason, as chief among these fancy. Next, her office holds
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of all external things which the five watchful senses represent. She forms imagination's airy
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shapes, which reason joining or disjoining frames all what we affirm or what deny,
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and calls our knowledge or opinion. Then retires into her private cell.
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When nature rests, Often her absence, mimic fancy wakes to imitate her,
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but misjoy shapes, wild work produces oft, and most in dreams ill matching
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words and deeds long past or late. Some such resemblances. Methinks, I
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find of our last evening's talk in this thy dream. But with addition strange,
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Yet be not sad. Evil into the mind of God or man may
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come and go so unapprov'd and leave no spot or blame behind which gives me
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hope that what in sleep thou didst abhor to dream, waking thou never wilt
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consent to do. Be not disheartened then, nor cloud those looks that wont
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to be more cheerful and serene than when fair morning first smiles on the world
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and let us to our fresh employments. Rise among the groves, the fountains,
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and the flowers that open now their choicest bosomed smells, reserved from night
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and kept for thee in store. So cheered he his fair spouse, and
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she was cheered but silently. A gentle tear let fall from either eye and
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wipe them with their hair. Two other precious drops that ready stood, each
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in their crystal sluice. He ere they fell, kissed as the gracious signs
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of sweet or remorse and pious awe that feared to have offended. So all
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was cleared, and to the field they haste, but first from under shady
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arborous roof. Soon as they forth were come to open sight of day spring,
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and the sun, who scarce uprisen with wheels, yet hovering o'er the
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ocean brim shot parallel to the earth, his dewy ray, discovering in wide
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landscape, all the east of Paradise and Eden's happy plains. Lowly, they
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bowed, adoring and began their orizons each morning, duly paid in various style.
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For neither various style nor holy rapture wanted they to praise their maker in
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fit strains pronounced or sung unmeditated. Such prompt eloquence flowed from their lips in
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prose or numerous verse, more tuneable than needed lute or harp to add more
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sweetness, And they thus began. These are thy glorious works, Parent of
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good, Almighty Thine, this universal frame thus wondrous, fair thy self,
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how wondrous then unspeakable, who sitst above these heavens to us invisible or dimly
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seen in these thy lowest works. Yet these declare thy goodness beyond thought and
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power. Divine speak Ye who best can tell ye, sons of light angels,
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for ye behold him, and with songs and choral symphonies day without night,
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circle his throne, rejoicing ye in heaven on earth, joy all ye
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creatures, to extol him, first him last, him mits and without end
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bairest of stars, last in the train of night. If better thou belong
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not to the dawn sure pledge of day, that crown'st the smiling morn with
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thy bright Circlet praise him in thy sphere while day arises that sweet hour of
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prime. Thou Sun of this great world, Both eye and soul acknowledge him,
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thy greater sound his praise in thy eternal course, both when thou climb'st
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and when high noon hast gained, and when thou fall'st Moon, that thou
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meet'st. The orient sun now fliest, with the fixed stars fixed in their
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orb that flies, and ye five other wandering fires that move in mystic dance,
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not without song, resound his praise, who out of darkness call'd up
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light ere and ye elements, the eldest birth of Nature's womb, that in
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quaternion run perpetual circle, aultiform and mix and nourish all things. Let your
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ceaseless change vary to our great makers still new. Praise ye mists and exhalations
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that now rise from hill or streaming lake, dusky or gray, till the
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sun paints your fleecy skirts with gold in honor to the world's great author.
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Rise, whether to deck with clouds the uncolored sky, or wet the thirsty
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earth, with falling showers, rising or falling still advance his praise, his
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praise, Ye winds that from four quarters blow, breathe soft or loud,
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and wave your tops, ye pines, with every plant and sign of worship,
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Wave fountains, and ye that warble as ye flow melodious murmurs, warbling
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tune his praise. Join voices, all, ye living souls, Ye birds
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that sing up to heaven gate, ascend, bear on your wings and in
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your notes his praise, Ye that in waters glide, and knee that walk
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the earth, and stately tread or lowly creep, Witness, if I be
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silent morn, or even to hill or valley, fountain or fresh shade,
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made vocal by my song, and taught his praise, Hail Universal Lord,
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be bounteous still to give us only good. And if the night have gathered
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aught of evil or concealed, disperse it as now light dispels the dark.
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So prayed they innocent, and to their thoughts firm peace recovered soon and wonted
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calm on to their morning's rural work. They haste among sweet dews and flowers,
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where any row of fruit trees over woody reached too far their pampered boughs
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and needed hands to check fruitless embraces, or they led the vine to wet
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her elm. She spoused about him twines her marriageable arms, and with her
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brings her dower. The adopted clusters to adorn his barren leaves. Them thus
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employ'd beheld with pity Heaven's high king, and to him called Raphael, the
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sociable spirit that deigned to travel with Tobias and secured his marriage with the seven
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times wedded maid. Raphael said, he thou hearest what stir on earth,
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Satan from Hell escap'd through the darksome gulf, hath raised in paradise, And
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how disturb'd this night the human pair, how he designs in them at once
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to ruin all mankind. Go Therefore half this day, as friend with friend,
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converse with Adam in what bower or shade thou find'st him from the heat
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of noon, retir'd to respit his day, labor with repast or with repose,
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and such discourse bring on as may advise him of his happy state,
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happiness, and his power left free to will, left to his own free
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will. His will, though free yet mutable, whence warn him to beware,
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he swerved, not too secure. Tell him withal his danger, and
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from whom what enemy late fallen himself from heaven is plotting now the fall of
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others from like state of bliss by violence, No, for that shall be
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withstood but by deceit and lies. This let him know, least wilfully transgressing,
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he pretended surprisal, unadmonished, unforewarned. So spake the Eternal Father,
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and fulfill'd all justice, Nor delayed the winged saint, after his charge received,
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But from among thousand celestial ardors, where he stood, veil'd with his
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gorgeous wings up springing light flew through the midst of Heaven. Angelic choirs on
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each hand, parting to his speed, gave way through all the imperial road,
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till at the Gate of Heaven arrived. The gates self opened wide on
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golden hinges, turning as by work divine, the sovereign architect had framed from
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hints no cloud or to obstruct his sight. Star interposed, however small,
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he sees, not unconformed to other shining globes Earth and the Garden of God,
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with cedars crowned above all hills, as when by night the glass of
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Galileo less assured observes imagine lands and relics in the moon or pilot from amidst
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the cyclodes, Dilo Sir Samos, first appearing kins a cloudy spot down thither
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prone in flight, he speeds and through the vast ethereal sky sails between worlds
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and worlds with steady wing, now on the polar winds, then with quick
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fan winnows the buxom air till within soar of towering eagles. To all the
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fowls, he seems a phoenix, gazed by all, as that soul bird.
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When to enshrine his relics in the sun's bright temple, to Egyptian thebes,
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he flies at once. On the eastern cliff of Paradise, he lights,
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and to his proper shape returns a seraph, winged six wings, he
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war to shade his lineaments divine. The pair that clad each shoulder broad came
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mantling o'er his breast with regal ornament. The middle pair girt like a starry
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zone his waste and round skirted his loins and thighs with downy gold and colors
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dipp'd in heaven. The third, his feet shadowed from either heel, with
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feathered mail sky tinctured grain. Like Maya's son, he stood and shook his
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plumes. That heavenly fragrance filled the circuit wide straight knew him all the bands
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of angels under watch, and to his state, and to his message high
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in honor rise, For on some message high they guessed him bound their glittering
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tints, he passed, And now as come into the blissful field, through
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groves of myrrh and flowering odors, cassia, nard and balm, a wilderness
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of sweets, for nature here wantoned as in her prime, and played at
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will her virgin fancies, pouring forth more sweet wild above rule or art enormous
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bliss him through the spicy forest. Onward come Adam, discerned, as in
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the door he sat of his cool bower, while now the mounted sun shot
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down, direct his fervid rays to warm Earth's inmost womb, more warmth than
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Adam need, and Eve within do at her hour, prepared for dinner,
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savory fruits of taste, please true appetite, and not disrelish thirst of nectrous
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drafts between from milky stream, berry or grape, to whom thus Adam call'd
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haste hither, Eve and worth thy sight behold eastward among those trees. What
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glorious shape comes this way? Moving seems another morn risen on mid noon,
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some great behest from Heaven to us. Perhaps he brings and will vouchsafe this
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day to be our guest. But go with speed, and what thy stores
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contain, bring forth and pour abundance fit to honor and receive our heavenly stranger.
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Well we may afford our givers their own gifts and large bess stove from
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large bestowed, where nature multiplies her fertile growth, and by disburdening grows more
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fruitful, which instructs us not to spare to whom, Thus Eve Adam,
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Earth's hallowed mold of God inspired small store will serve where store all seasons ripe
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for use, hangs on the stalk, save what by frugal storing firmness gains
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to nourish and superfluous moist consumes. But I will haste, and from each
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bow and break each plant and juiciest gourd will pluck such choice to entertain our
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angel guest, as he beholding, shall confess that here on earth, God
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hath dispensed his bounties as in heaven. So saying, with dispatchful looks and
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haste, she turns on hospitable thoughts intent, What choice to choose for delicacy
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best? What order so contrived as not to mix tastes not well joined,
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inelegant, but bring taste after taste upheld with kindliest change bestirs her then,
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and from each tender stalk, whatever earth, all bearing mother yields in India
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east or west, or middle shore, in Pontus or the Punic coast,
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or where alcinous reigned, fruit of all kinds, in coat rough or smooth
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rind or bearded husk or shell, she gathers tribute large and on the board
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heaps with unsparing hand for drink. The grape she crushes inoffensive most, and
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meathes from many a berry and from sweet kernels presst She tempers dulcet creams nor
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the ease to hold, wants her fit vessels pure, then strews the ground
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with rose and odors from the shrub unfumed. Meanwhile, our primitive great sire
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to meet his godlike guest, walks forth without more train, accompanied than with
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his own complete perfections, and himself was all his state, more solemn than
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the tedious pomp that waits on princes when their rich retinue, long of horses,
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lead and grooms besmeared with gold, dazzles the crowd and sets them all
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agape nearer his presence. Adam, though not awed yet with submiss approach and
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reverence meek as to a superior nature. Bowing low, thus said native of
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heav'n. For other place none can than Heaven such glorious shape contain, Since
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by descending from the thrones above those happy places, thou hast deign'd awhile to
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want and honor these boutsafe with us too. Only who, yet, by
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sovereign gift, possess this spacious ground in yonder shady bower to rest, and
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what the garden choicest bears to sit and taste, till this meridian heat be
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over and the sun more cool decline whom, thus the angelic virtue answered mild
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Adam. I therefore came, nor art thou such created, or such place
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hast here to dwell as may not oft invite, though spirits of heaven to
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visit thee lead on. Then where thy bower or shades for these mid hours
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till evening rise. I have it well, So to the Sylvan lodge.
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They came that like Pomona's arbor, smil'd with florets decked and fragrant smells.
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But Eve undecked, save with herself more lovely fair than wood Nymph, or
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the fairest goddess feigned of three that in Mount Ida, naked strove stood to
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entertain her guest from heaven. No veil, she needed, virtue proof,
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no thought infirm alter'd her cheek, on whom the angel Hail bestowed. The
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holy salutation used long after to blest Mary. Second Eve, Hail, mother
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of mankind, whose fruitful womb shall fill the world more numerous with thy sons
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than with these various fruits. The trees of God have heaped this table rais'd
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of grassy turf. Their table was, and mossy seats had round, and
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on her ample square from side to side, all autumn pil'd. Though spring
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and autumn danced hand in hand a while discourse they hold no fear lest dinner
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cool. When thus began our author, heavenly stranger, please to taste these
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bounties which our nourisher, from whom all perfect good, unmeasured out, descends
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to us for food and for delight. Hath caused the earth to yield unsavory
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food, perhaps to spiritual natures. Only this I know that one celestial Father
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gives to all. End of Book five, Part one,