| |
| 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 sleeked his tongue, and won so much on Eve, | 5 |
| So little here, nay lost. But Eve was Eve; | |
| This far his over-match, who, self-deceived | |
| And rash, beforehand had no better weighed | |
| The strength he was to cope with, or his own. | |
| Butas a man who had been matchless held | 10 |
| In cunning, over-reached where least he thought, | |
| To salve his credit, and for very spite, | |
| Still will be tempting him who foils him still, | |
| And never cease, though to his shame the more; | |
| Or as a swarm of flies in vintage-time, | 15 |
| About the wine-press where sweet must 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 bubbles end | 20 |
| So Satan, whom repulse upon repulse | |
| Met ever, and to shameful silence brought, | |
| Yet gives not oer, though desperate of success, | |
| And his vain importunity pursues. | |
| He brought our Saviour to the western side | 25 |
| 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 screened the fruits of the earth and seats of men | 30 |
| From cold Septentrion 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, | 35 |
| Porches and theatres, baths, aqueducts, | |
| Statues and trophies, and triumphal arcs, | |
| Gardens and groves, presented to his eyes | |
| Above the highth of mountains interposed | |
| By what strange parallax, or optic skill | 40 |
| Of vision, multiplied through air, or glass | |
| Of telescope, were curious to enquire. | |
| And now the Tempter thus his silence broke: | |
| The city which thou seest no other deem | |
| Than great and glorious Rome, Queen of the Earth | 45 |
| So far renowned, and with the spoils enriched | |
| Of nations. There the Capitol thou seest, | |
| Above the rest lifting his stately head | |
| On the Tarpeian rock, her citadel | |
| Impregnable; and there Mount Palatine, | 50 |
| 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 | 55 |
| Houses of godsso well I have disposed | |
| My aerie microscopethou mayst behold, | |
| Outside and inside both, pillars and roofs | |
| Carved work, the hand of famed artificers | |
| In cedar, marble, ivory, or gold. | 60 |
| Thence to the gates cast round thine eye, and see | |
| What conflux issuing forth, or entering in: | |
| Praetors, proconsuls to their provinces | |
| Hasting, or on return, in robes of state; | |
| Lictors and rods, the ensigns of their power; | 65 |
| Legions and cohorts, turms of horse and wings; | |
| Or embassies from regions far remote, | |
| In various habits, on the Appian road, | |
| Or on the Æmiliansome from farthest south, | |
| Syene, and where the shadow both way falls, | 70 |
| Meroë, Nilotic isle, and, more to west, | |
| The realm of Bocchus to the Blackmoor sea; | |
| From the Asian kings (and Parthian among these), | |
| From India and the Golden Chersoness, | |
| And utmost Indian isle Taprobane, | 75 |
| Dusk faces with white silken turbants wreathed; | |
| From Gallia, Gades, and the British west; | |
| Germans, and Scythians, and Sarmatians north | |
| Beyond Danubius to the Tauric pool. | |
| All nations now to Rome obedience pay | 80 |
| To Romes great Emperor, whose wide domain, | |
| In ample territory, wealth and power, | |
| Civility of manners, arts and arms, | |
| And long renown, thou justly mayst prefer | |
| Before the Parthian. These two thrones except, | 85 |
| The rest are barbarous, and scarce worth the sight, | |
| Shared among petty kings too far removed; | |
| These having shewn thee, I have shewn thee all | |
| The kingdoms of the world, and all their glory. | |
| This Emperor hath no son, and now is old, | 90 |
| Old and lascivious, and from Rome retired | |
| To Capreæ, an island small but strong | |
| On the Campanian shore, with purpose there | |
| His horrid lusts in private to enjoy; | |
| Committing to a wicked favourite | 95 |
| 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, | |
| Mightst thou expel this monster from his throne, | 100 |
| Now made a sty, and, in his place ascending, | |
| A victor-people free from servile yoke! | |
| And with my help thou mayst; to me the power | |
| Is given, and by that right I give it thee. | |
| Aim, therefore, at no less than all the world; | 105 |
| Aim at the highest; without the highest attained, | |
| Will be for thee no sitting, or not long, | |
| On Davids throne, be prophesied what will. | |
| To whom the Son of God, unmoved, replied: | |
| Nor doth this grandeur and majestic shew | 110 |
| Of luxury, though called magnificence, | |
| More than of arms before, allure mine eye, | |
| Much less my mind; though thou shouldst add to tell | |
| Their sumptuous gluttonies, and gorgeous feasts | |
| On citron tables or Atlantic stone | 115 |
| (For I have also heard, perhaps have read), | |
| Their wines of Setia, Cales, and Falerne, | |
| Chios and Crete, and how they quaff in gold, | |
| Crystal, and myrrhine cups, imbossed with gems | |
| And studs of pearlto me shouldst tell, who thirst | 120 |
| And hunger still. Then embassies thou shewst | |
| From nations 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 | 125 |
| Of the Emperor, how easily subdued, | |
| How gloriously. I shall, thou sayst, expel | |
| A brutish monster: what if I withal | |
| Expel a Devil who first made him such? | |
| Let his tormentor, Conscience, find him out; | 130 |
| For him I was not sent, nor yet to free | |
| That people, victor once, now vile and base, | |
| Deservedly made vassalwho, once just, | |
| Frugal and mild, and temperate, conquered well, | |
| But govern ill the nations under yoke, | 135 |
| Peeling their provinces, exhausted all | |
| By lust and rapine; first ambitious grown | |
| Of triumph, that insulting vanity; | |
| Then cruel, by their sports to blood inured | |
| Of fighting beasts, and men to beasts exposed; | 140 |
| Luxurious by their wealth, and greedier still, | |
| And from the daily Scene effeminate. | |
| What wise and valiant man would seek to free | |
| These, thus degenerate, by themselves enslaved, | |
| Or could of inward slaves make outward free? | 145 |
| Know, therefore, when my season comes to sit | |
| On Davids 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; | 150 |
| 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 | 155 |
| Thou valuest, because offered, and rejectst. | |
| 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, | 160 |
| Nor what I part with mean to give for naught. | |
| All these, which in a moment thou beholdst, | |
| The kingdoms of the world, to thee I give | |
| (For, given to me, I give to whom I please), | |
| No trifle; yet with this reserve, not else | 165 |
| 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: | 170 |
| I never liked thy talk, thy offers less; | |
| Now both abhor, since thou hast dared to utter | |
| The abominable terms, impious condition. | |
| But I endure the time, till which expired | |
| Thou hast permission on me. It is written, | 175 |
| The first of all commandments, Thou shalt worship | |
| The Lord thy God, and only Him shalt serve; | |
| And darst thou to the Son of God propound | |
| To worship thee, accursed? now more accursed | |
| For this attempt, bolder than that on Eve, | 180 |
| And more blasphémous; 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, | 185 |
| God over all supreme? If given to thee, | |
| By thee how fairly is the Giver now | |
| Repaid! But gratitude in thee is lost | |
| Long since. Wert thou so void of fear or shame | |
| As offer them to me, the Son of God | 190 |
| To me my own, on such abhorred pact, | |
| That I fall down and worship thee as God? | |
| Get thee behind me! Plain thou now appearst | |
| That Evil One, Satan for ever damned. | |
| To whom the Fiend, with fear abashed, replied: | 195 |
| Be not so sore offended, Son of God | |
| Though Sons of God both Angels are and Men | |
| If I, to try whether in higher sort | |
| Than these thou bearst that title, have proposed | |
| What both from Men and Angels I receive, | 200 |
| Tetrarchs 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 it most concerns. | 205 |
| The trial hath indamaged thee no way, | |
| Rather more honour left and more esteem; | |
| Me naught advantaged, missing what I aimed. | |
| Therefore let pass, as they are transitory, | |
| The kingdoms of this world; I shall nor more | 210 |
| Advise thee; gain them as thou canst, or not. | |
| And thou thyself seemst otherwise inclined | |
| Than to a worldly crown, addicted more | |
| To contemplation and profound dispute; | |
| As by that early action may be judged, | 215 |
| When, slipping from thy mothers eye, thou wentst | |
| Alone into the Temple, there wast found | |
| Among the gravest Rabbies, disputant | |
| On points and questions fitting Moses chair, | |
| Teaching, not taught. The childhood shews the man, | 220 |
| As morning shews the day. Be famous, then, | |
| By wisdom; as thy empire must extend, | |
| So let extend thy mind oer all the world | |
| In knowledge; all things in it comprehend. | |
| All knowledge is not couched in Moses law, | 225 |
| The Pentateuch, or what the Prophets wrote; | |
| The Gentiles also know, and write, and teach | |
| To admiration, led by Natures light; | |
| And with the Gentiles much thou must converse, | |
| Ruling them by persuasion, as thou meanst. | 230 |
| Without their learning, how wilt thou with them, | |
| Or they with thee, hold conversation meet? | |
| How wilt thou reason with them, how refute | |
| Their idolisms, traditions, paradoxes? | |
| Error by his own arms is best evinced. | 235 |
| Look once more, ere we leave this specular mount, | |
| Westward, much nearer by south-west; behold | |
| Where on the Ægean shore a city stands, | |
| Built nobly, pure the air and light the soil | |
| Athens, the eye of Greece, mother of arts | 240 |
| And eloquence, native to famous wits | |
| Or hospitable, in her sweet recess, | |
| City of suburban, studious walks and shades. | |
| See there the olive-grove of Academe, | |
| Platos retirement, where the Attic bird | 245 |
| Trills her thick-warbled notes the summer long; | |
| There, flowery hill, Hymettus, with the sound | |
| Of bees industrious murmur, oft invites | |
| To studious musing; there Ilissus rowls | |
| His whispering stream. Within the walls then view | 250 |
| The schools of ancient sageshis 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 | 255 |
| By voice or hand, and various-measured verse, | |
| Æolian charms and Dorian lyric odes, | |
| And his who gave them breath, but higher sung, | |
| Blind Melesigenes, thence Homer called, | |
| Whose poem Phbus challenged for his own. | 260 |
| Thence what the lofty grave Tragedians taught | |
| In chorus or iambic, teachers best | |
| Of moral prudence, with delight received | |
| In brief sententious precepts, while they treat | |
| Of fate, and chance, and change in human life, | 265 |
| High actions and high passions best describing. | |
| Thence to the famous Orators repair, | |
| Those ancient whose resistless eloquence | |
| Wielded at will that fierce democraty, | |
| Shook the Arsenal, and fulmined over Greece | 270 |
| To Macedon and Artaxerxes throne. | |
| To sage Philosophy next lend thine ear, | |
| From heaven descended to the low-roofed house | |
| Of Socratessee there his tenement | |
| Whom, well inspired, the Oracle pronounced | 275 |
| Wisest of men; from whose mouth issued forth | |
| Mellifluous streams, that watered all the schools | |
| Of Academics old and new, with those | |
| Surnamed Peripatetics, and the sect | |
| Epicurean, and the Stoic severe. | 280 |
| These here revolve, or, as thou likest, at home, | |
| Till time mature thee to a kingdoms weight; | |
| These rules will render thee a king complete | |
| Within thyself, much more with empire joined. | |
| To whom our Saviour sagely thus replied: | 285 |
| Think not but that I know these things; or, think | |
| I know them not, 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; | 290 |
| But these are false, or little else but dreams, | |
| Conjectures, fancies, built on nothing firm. | |
| The first and wisest of them all professed | |
| To know this only, that he nothing knew; | |
| The next to fabling fell and smooth conceits; | 295 |
| A third sort doubted all things, though plain sense; | |
| Others in virtue placed felicity, | |
| But virtue joined with riches and long life; | |
| In corporal pleasure he, and careless ease; | |
| The Stoic last in philosophic pride, | 300 |
| By him called virtue, and his virtuous man, | |
| Wise, perfect in himself, and all possessing, | |
| Equal to God, oft shames not to prefer, | |
| As fearing God nor man, contemning all | |
| Wealth, pleasure, pain or torment, death and life | 305 |
| 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, | 310 |
| And how the World began, and how Man fell, | |
| Degraded by himself, on grace depending? | |
| Much of the Soul they talk, but all awry; | |
| And in themselves seek virtue; and to themselves | |
| All glory arrogate, to God give none; | 315 |
| Rather accuse him under usual names, | |
| Fortune and Fate, as one regardless quite | |
| Of mortal things. Who, therefore, seeks in these | |
| True wisdom finds her not, or by delusion | |
| Far worse, her false resemblance only meets, | 320 |
| 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?) | 325 |
| Uncertain and unsettled still remains, | |
| Deep-versed 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. | 330 |
| Or, if I would delight my private hours | |
| With music or with poem, where so soon | |
| As in our native language can I find | |
| That solace? All our Law and Story strewed | |
| With hymns, our Psalms with artful terms inscribed, | 335 |
| Our Hebrew songs and harps, in Babylon | |
| That pleased so well our victors ear, declare | |
| That rather Greece from us there arts derived | |
| Ill imitated while they loudest sing | |
| The vices of their deities, and their own, | 340 |
| In fable, hymn, or song, so personating | |
| Their gods ridiculous, and themselves past shame. | |
| Remove their swelling epithetes, thick-laid | |
| As varnish on a harlots cheek, the rest | |
| Thin-sown with aught of profit or delight, | 345 |
| Will far be found unworthy to compare | |
| With Sions songs, to all true tastes excelling, | |
| Where God is praised aright and godlike men, | |
| The Holiest of Holies and his Saints | |
| (Such are from God inspired, not such from thee); | 350 |
| Unless where moral virtue is expressed | |
| By light of Nature, not in all quite lost. | |
| Their orators thou then extollst as those | |
| The top of eloquencestatists indeed, | |
| And lovers of their country, as may seem; | 355 |
| 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. | 360 |
| In them is plainest taught, and easiest learnt, | |
| 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 | 365 |
| Quite 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 aught | |
| By me proposed in life contemplative | 370 |
| 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 cause | 375 |
| To wish thou never hadst rejected, thus | |
| Nicely or cautiously, my offered aid, | |
| Which would have set thee in short time with ease | |
| On Davids throne, or throne of all the world, | |
| Now at full age, fulness of time, thy season, | 380 |
| When prophecies of thee are best fulfilled. | |
| Now, contraryif I read aught in heaven, | |
| Or heaven write aught of fateby what the stars | |
| Voluminous, or single characters | |
| In their conjunction met, give me to spell, | 385 |
| Sorrows and labours, opposition, hate, | |
| Attend thee; scorns, reproaches, injuries, | |
| Violence and stripes, and, lastly, cruel death. | |
| A kingdom they portend thee, but what kingdom, | |
| Real or allegoric, I discern not; | 390 |
| Nor when: eternal sureas 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 | 395 |
| Brought back, the Son of God, and left him there, | |
| Feigning to disappear. Darkness now rose, | |
| As daylight sunk, and brought in louring Night, | |
| Her shadowy offspring, unsubstantial both, | |
| Privation mere of light and absent day. | 400 |
| Our Saviour, meek, and with untroubled mind | |
| After his aerie 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 | 405 |
| From dews 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 | 410 |
| 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 | 415 |
| 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 | 420 |
| Unshaken! Nor yet staid the terror there: | |
| Infernal ghosts and hellish furies round | |
| Environed thee; some howled, some yelled, some shrieked, | |
| Some bent at thee their fiery darts, while thou | |
| Satst unappalled in calm and sinless peace. | 425 |
| Thus passed the night so foul, till Morning fair | |
| Came forth with pilgrim steps, in amice grey, | |
| Who with her radiant finger stilled the roar | |
| Of thunder, chased the clouds, and laid the winds, | |
| And griesly spectres, which the Fiend had raised | 430 |
| To tempt the Son of God with terrors dire. | |
| And now the sun with more effectual beams | |
| Had cheered the face of earth, and dried the wet | |
| From drooping plant, or dropping tree; the birds, | |
| Who all things now behold more fresh and green, | 435 |
| After a night of storm so ruinous, | |
| Cleared up their choicest notes in bush and spray, | |
| To gratulate the sweet return of morn. | |
| Nor yet, amidst this joy and brightest morn, | |
| Was absent, after all his mischief done, | 440 |
| The Prince of Darkness; glad would also seem | |
| Of this fair change, and to our Saviour 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 | 445 |
| And mad despite to be so oft repelled. | |
| Him walking on a sunny hill he found, | |
| Backed on the north and west by a thick wood; | |
| Out of the wood he starts in wonted shape, | |
| And in a careless mood thus to him said: | 450 |
| Fair morning yet betides thee, Son of God, | |
| After a dismal night. I heard the wrack, | |
| 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, | 455 |
| Or to the Earths dark basis underneath, | |
| Are to the main as inconsiderable | |
| And harmless, if not wholesome, as a sneeze | |
| To mans less universe, and soon are gone. | |
| Yet, as being ofttimes noxious where they light | 460 |
| On man, beast, plant, wasteful and turbulent, | |
| Like turbulencies in the affairs of men, | |
| Over whose heads they roar, and seem to point, | |
| They oft fore-signify and threaten ill. | |
| This tempest at this desert most was bent; | 465 |
| Of men at thee, for only thou here dwellst. | |
| 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 | 470 |
| Of gaining Davids throne no man knows when | |
| (For both the when and 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 rightliest done | 475 |
| Not when it must, but when it may be best. | |
| If thou observe not this, be sure to find | |
| What I foretold theemany a hard assay | |
| Of dangers, and adversities, and pains, | |
| Ere thou of Israels sceptre get fast hold; | 480 |
| Whereof this ominous night that closed thee round, | |
| So many terrors, voices, prodigies, | |
| May warn thee, as a sure foregoing sign. | |
| So talked he, while the Son of God went on, | |
| And staid not, but in brief him answered thus: | 485 |
| Me worse than wet thou findst not; other harm | |
| Those terrors which thou speakst of did me none | |
| , never feared they could, though noising loud | |
| And threatening nigh: what they can do as signs | |
| Betokening or ill-boding I contemn | 490 |
| As false portents, not sent from God, but thee; | |
| Who, knowing I shall reign past thy preventing, | |
| Obtrudst thy offered aid, that I, accepting, | |
| At least might seem to hold all power of thee, | |
| Ambitious Spirit! and wouldst be thought my God; | 495 |
| And stormst, refused, thinking to terrify | |
| Me to thy will! Desist (thou art discerned, | |
| And toilst in vain), nor me in vain molest. | |
| To whom the Fiend, now swoln with rage, replied: | |
| Then hear, O Son of David, virgin-born! | 500 |
| 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, | 505 |
| 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 bred; | |
| Till, at the ford of Jordan, whither all | 510 |
| Flocked to the Baptist, I among the rest | |
| (Though not to be baptized), by voice from Heaven | |
| Heard thee pronounced the Son of God beloved. | |
| Thenceforth I thought thee worth my nearer view | |
| And narrower scrutiny, that I might learn | 515 |
| 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; relation stands: | |
| All men are Sons of God; yet thee I thought | 520 |
| 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. | 525 |
| Good reason, then, if I beforehand seek | |
| To understand my adversary, who | |
| And what he is; his wisdom, power, intent; | |
| By parle or composition, truce or league, | |
| To win him, or win from him what I can. | 530 |
| 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 centre, firm | |
| To the utmost of mere man both wise and good, | 535 |
| Not more; for honours, riches, kingdoms, glory, | |
| Have been before contemned, and may again. | |
| Therefore, to know what more thou art than man, | |
| Worth naming Son of God by voice from Heaven, | |
| Another method I must now begin. | 540 |
| So saying, he caught him up, and, without wing | |
| Of hippogrif, bore through the air sublime, | |
| Over the wilderness and oer the plain, | |
| Till underneath them fair Jerusalem, | |
| The Holy City, lifted high her towers, | 545 |
| And higher yet the glorious Temple reared | |
| Her pile, far off appearing like a mount | |
| Of alabaster, topt with golden spires: | |
| There, on the highest pinnacle, he set | |
| The Son of God, and added thus in scorn: | 550 |
| There stand, if thou wilt stand; to stand upright | |
| Will ask thee skill. I to thy Fathers house | |
| Have brought thee, and highest placed: highest is best. | |
| Now shew thy progeny; if not to stand, | |
| Cast thyself down. Safely, if Son of God; | 555 |
| 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, | 560 |
| Tempt not the Lord thy God. He said, and stood; | |
| But Satan, smitten with amazement, fell. | |
| As when Earths son, Antæus (to compare | |
| Small things with greatest), in Irassa strove | |
| With Joves Alcides, and, oft foiled, still rose, | 565 |
| Receiving from his mother Earth new strength, | |
| Fresh from his fall, and fiercer grapple joined, | |
| Throttled at length in the air expired and fell, | |
| So, after many a foil, the Tempter proud, | |
| Renewing fresh assaults, amidst his pride | 570 |
| 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 Ismenian steep, | 575 |
| So, strook 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. | 580 |
| So Satan fell; and straight a fiery globe | |
| Of Angels on full sail of wing flew nigh, | |
| Who on their plumy vans received Him soft | |
| From his uneasy station, and upbore, | |
| As on a floating couch, through the blithe air; | 585 |
| Then, in a flowery valley, set him down | |
| On a green bank, and set before him spread | |
| A table of celestial food, divine | |
| Ambrosial fruits fetched from the Tree of Life, | |
| And from the Fount of Life ambrosial drink, | 590 |
| That soon refreshed him wearied, and repaired | |
| What hunger, if aught hunger, had impaired, | |
| Or thirst; and, as he fed, Angelic quires | |
| Sung heavenly anthems of his victory | |
| Over temptation and the Tempter proud: | 595 |
| True Image of the Father, whether throned | |
| In the bosom of bliss, and light of light | |
| Conceiving, or, remote from Heaven, enshrined | |
| In fleshly tabernacle and human form, | |
| Wandering the wildernesswhatever place, | 600 |
| Habit, or state, or motion, still expressing | |
| The Son of God, with Godlike force endued | |
| Against the attempter of thy Fathers throne | |
| And thief of Paradise! Him long of old | |
| Thou didst debel, and down from Heaven cast | 605 |
| With all his army; now thou hast avenged | |
| Supplanted Adam, and, by vanquishing | |
| Temptation, hast regained lost Paradise, | |
| And frustrated the conquest fraudulent. | |
| He never more henceforth will dare set foot | 610 |
| 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; | 615 |
| 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 lighting, thou shalt fall from Heaven, trod down | 620 |
| Under his feet. For proof, ere this thou fellst | |
| Thy wound (yet not thy last and deadliest wound) | |
| By this repulse received, and holdst in Hell | |
| No triumph; in all her gates Abaddon rues | |
| Thy bold attempt. Hereafter learn with awe | 625 |
| To dread the Son of God. He, all unarmed, | |
| Shall chase thee, with the terror of his voice, | |
| From thy demoniac holds, possession foul | |
| Thee and thy legions; yelling they shall fly, | |
| And beg to hide them in a herd of swine, | 630 |
| 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. | 635 |
| 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 mothers house private returned. | |
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