by John Dryden
Angel. [Singing.]
Look up, look up, and see,
What heaven prepares for thee;
Look up, and this fair fruit behold,
Ruddy it smiles, and rich with streaks of gold.
The loaded branches downward bend,
Willing they stoop, and thy fair hand attend.
Fair mother of mankind, make haste
And bless, and bless thy senses with the taste.
Woman. No, ’tis forbidden; I
In tasting it shall die.
Angel. Say, who enjoined this harsh command?
Woman. ’Twas heaven; and who can heaven withstand?
Angel. Why was it made so fair, why placed in sight?
Heaven is too good to envy man’s delight.
See, we before thy face will try
What thou so fearest, and will not die. [The Angel takes the fruit, and gives to the Spirits who danced; they immediately put off their deformed shapes, and appear Angels.
Angel. [Singing.]
Behold what a change on a sudden is here!
How glorious in beauty, how bright they appear!
Prom spirits deformed they are deities made,
Their pinions at pleasure the clouds can invade, [The Angel gives to the Woman, who eats.
Till equal in honour they rise,
With him who commands in the skies;
Then taste without fear, and be happy and wise.
Woman. Ah, now I believe! such a pleasure I find,
As enlightens my eyes, and enlivens my mind. [The Spirits, who are turned Angels, fly up when they have tasted.
I only repent,
I deferred my content.
Angel. Now wiser experience has taught you to prove,
What a folly it is,
Out of fear to shun bliss.
To the joy that’s forbidden we eagerly move;
It inhances the price, and increases the love.
Chorus of both. To the joy, &c.
Two Angels descend; they take the Woman each by the hand, and fly up with her out of sight. The Angel who sung, and the Spirits who held the canopy, at the same instant sink down with the tree.
Enter Gabriel and Ithuriel to Lucifer, who remains.
Gab. What art thou? speak thy name and thy intent.
Why here alone? and on what errand sent?
Not from above; no, thy wan looks betray
Diminished light, and eyes unused to day.
Lucif. Not to know me, argues thyself unknown:
Time was, when, shining next the imperial throne,
I sat in awful state; while such as thou
Did in the ignoble crowd at distance bow.
Gab. Think’st thou, vain spirit, thy glories are the same?
And seest not sin obscures thy god-like frame?
I know thee now by thy ungrateful pride,
That shews me what thy faded looks did hide,
Traitor to Him who made and set thee high,
And fool, that Power which formed thee to defy.
Lucif. Go, slaves, return, and fawn in heaven again:
Seek thanks from him whose quarrel you maintain.
Vile wretches! of your servitude to boast;
You basely keep the place I bravely lost.
Ithu. Freedom is choice of what we will and do:
Then blame not servants, who are freely so.
’Tis base not to acknowledge what we owe.
Lucif. Thanks, howe’er due, proclaim subjection yet;
I fought for power to quit the upbraided debt.
Whoe’er expects our thanks, himself repays,
And seems but little, who can want our praise.
Gab. What in us duty, shews not want in him;
Blest in himself alone,
To whom no praise we, by good deeds, can add;
Nor can his glory suffer from our bad.
Made for his use; yet he has formed us so,
We, unconstrained, what he commands us do.
So praise we him, and serve him freely best;
Thus thou, by choice, art fallen, and we are blest.
Ithu. This, lest thou think thy plea, unanswered, good.
Our question thou evad’st: How didst thou dare
To break hell bounds, and near this human pair
In nightly ambush lie?
Lucif. Lives there, who would not seek to force his way,
From pain to ease, from darkness to the day?
Should I, who found the means to ‘scape, not dare
To change my sulphurous smoke for upper air?
When I, in fight, sustained your Thunderer,
And heaven on me alone spent half his war,
Think’st thou those wounds were light? Should I not seek
The clemency of some more temperate clime,
To purge my gloom; and, by the sun refined,
Bask in his beams, and bleach me in the wind?
Gab. If pain to shun be all thy business here,
Methinks thy fellows the same course should steer.
Is their pain less, who yet behind thee stay?
Or thou less hardy to endure than they?
Lucif. Nor one, nor t’other; but, as leaders ought,
I ventured first alone, first danger sought,
And first explored this new-created frame,
Which filled our dusky regions with its fame;
In hopes my fainting troops to settle here,
And to defend against your Thunderer,
This spot of earth; or nearer heaven repair,
And forage to his gates from middle air.
Ithu. Fool! to believe thou any part canst gain
From Him, who could’st not thy first ground maintain.
Gab. But whether that design, or one as vain,
To attempt the lives of these, first drew thee here,
Avoid the place, and never more appear
Upon this hallowed earth; else prove our might.
Lucif. Not that I fear, do I decline the fight:
You I disdain; let me with Him contend,
On whom your limitary powers depend.
More honour from the sender than the sent:
Till then, I have accomplished my intent;
And leave this place, which but augments my pain,
Gazing to wish, yet hopeless to obtain. [Exit, they following him.
ACT IV.
SCENE I. — Paradise.
Adam and Eve.
Adam. Strange was your dream, and full of sad portent;
Avert it, heaven, if it from heaven were sent!
Let on thy foes the dire presages fall;
To us be good and easy, when we call.
Eve. Behold from far a breaking cloud appears,
Which in it many winged warriors bears:
Their glory shoots upon my aching sense;
Thou, stronger, mayest endure the flood of light,
And while in shades I chear my fainting sight,
Encounter the descending Excellence.[Exit.
The Cloud descends with six Angels in it, and when it is near the ground, breaks, and on each side discovers six more: They descend out of the Cloud. Raphael and Gabriel discourse with Adam, the rest stand at a distance.
Raph. First of mankind, that we from heaven are sent,
Is from heaven’s care thy ruin to prevent.
The Apostate Angel has by night been here,
And whispered through thy sleeping consort’s ear
Delusive dreams. Thus warned by us, beware,
And guide her frailty by thy timely care.
Gab. These, as thy guards from outward harms, are sent;
Ills from within thy reason must prevent.
Adam. Natives of heaven, who in compassion deign
To want that place where joys immortal reign,
In care of me; what praises can I pay,
Descended in obedience; taught to obey?
Raph. Praise Him alone, who god-l
ike formed thee free,
With will unbounded as a deity;
Who gave thee reason, as thy aid, to chuse
Apparent good, and evil to refuse.
Obedience is that good; this heaven exacts,
And heaven, all-just, from man requires not acts,
Which man wants power to do: Power then is given
Of doing good, but not compelled by heaven.
Gab. Made good, that thou dost to thy Maker owe;
But to thyself, if thou continuest so.
Adam. Freedom of will of all good things is best;
But can it be by finite man possest?
I know not how heaven can communicate
What equals man to his Creator’s state.
Raph. Heaven cannot give his boundless power away,
But boundless liberty of choice he may;
So orbs from the first Mover motion take,
Yet each their proper revolutions make.
Adam. Grant heaven could once have given us liberty;
Are we not bounded now, by firm decree,
Since whatsoe’er is pre-ordained must be?
Else heaven for man events might pre-ordain,
And man’s free will might make those orders vain.
Gab. The Eternal, when he did the world create,
All other agents did necessitate:
So what he ordered, they by nature do;
Thus light things mount, and heavy downward go.
Man only boasts an arbitrary state.
Adam. Yet causes their effects necessitate
In willing agents: Where is freedom then?
Or who can break the chain which limits men
To act what is unchangeably forecast,
Since the first cause gives motion to the last?
Raph. Heaven, by fore-knowing what will surely be,
Does only, first, effects in causes see,
And finds, but does not make, necessity.
Creation is of power and will the effect,
Foreknowledge only of his intellect.
His prescience makes not, but supposes things;
Infers necessity to be, not brings.
Thus thou art not constrained to good or ill;
Causes, which work the effect, force not the will.
Adam. The force unseen, and distant, I confess;
But the long chain makes not the bondage less.
Even man himself may to himself seem free;
And think that choice, which is necessity.
Gab. And who but man should judge of man’s free state?
Adam. I find that I can chuse to love or hate,
Obey or disobey, do good or ill;
Yet such a choice is but consent, not will.
I can but chuse what he at first designed,
For he, before that choice, my will confined.
Gab. Such impious fancies, where they entrance gain,
Make heaven, all-pure, thy crimes to pre-ordain.
Adam. Far, far from me be banished such a thought,
I argue only to be better taught.
Can there be freedom, when what now seems free
Was founded on some first necessity?
For whate’er cause can move the will t’elect,
Must be sufficient to produce the effect;
And what’s sufficient must effectual be:
Then how is man, thus forced by causes, free?
Raph. Sufficient causes only work the effect,
When necessary agents they respect.
Such is not man; who, though the cause suffice,
Yet often he his free assent denies.
Adam. What causes not, is not sufficient still.
Gab. Sufficient in itself; not in thy will.
Raph. When we see causes joined to effects at last,
The chain but shews necessity that’s past.
That what’s done is: (ridiculous proof of fate!)
Tell me which part it does necessitate?
I’ll cruise the other; there I’ll link the effect.
O chain, which fools, to catch themselves, project!
Adam. Though no constraint from heaven, or causes, be,
Heaven may prevent that ill he does foresee;
And, not preventing, though he does not cause,
He seems to will that men should break his laws.
Gab. Heaven may permit, but not to ill consent;
For, hindering ill, he would all choice prevent.
‘Twere to unmake, to take away the will.
Adam. Better constrained to good, than free to ill.
Raph. But what reward or punishment could be,
If man to neither good nor ill were free?
The eternal justice could decree no pain
To him whose sins itself did first ordain;
And good, compelled, could no reward exact:
His power would shine in goodness, not thy act.
Our task is done: Obey; and, in that choice,
Thou shalt be blest, and angels shall rejoice. [Raphael and Gabriel fly up in the Cloud: the other Angels go off.
Adam. Hard state of life! since heaven foreknows my will,
Why am I not tied up from doing ill?
Why am I trusted with myself at large,
When he’s more able to sustain the charge?
Since angels fell, whose strength was more than mine,
‘Twould show more grace my frailty to confine.
Fore-knowing the success, to leave me free,
Excuses him, and yet supports not me.
To him Eve.
Eve. Behold, my heart’s dear lord, how high the sun
Is mounted, yet our labour not begun.
The ground, unhid, gives more than we can ask;
But work is pleasure when we chuse our task.
Nature, not bounteous now, but lavish grows;
Our paths with flowers she prodigally strows;
With pain we lift up our entangled feet,
While cross our walks the shooting branches meet.
Adam. Well has thy care advised; ’tis fit we haste;
Nature’s too kind, and follows us too fast;
Leaves us no room her treasures to possess,
But mocks our industry with her excess;
And, wildly wanton, wears by night away
The sign of all our labours done by day.
Eve. Since, then, the work’s so great, the hands so few,
This day let each a several task pursue.
By thee, my hands to labour will not move,
But, round thy neck, employ themselves in love.
When thou would’st work, one tender touch, one smile
(How can I hold?) will all thy task beguile.
Adam. So hard we are not to our labour tied,
That smiles, and soft endearments are denied;
Smiles, not allowed to beasts, from reason move,
And are the privilege of human love:
And if, sometimes, each others eyes we meet,
Those little vacancies from toil are sweet.
But you, by absence, would refresh your joys,
Because perhaps my conversation cloys.
Yet this, would prudence grant, I could permit.
Eve. What reason makes my small request unfit?
Adam. The fallen archangel, envious of our state,
Pursues our beings with immortal hate;
And, hopeless to prevail by open force,
Seeks hid advantage to betray us worse;
Which when asunder will not prove so hard;
For both together are each other’s guard.
Eve. Since he, by force, is hopeless to prevail,
He can by fraud alone our minds assail:
And to believe his wiles my truth can move,
Is to misdoubt my reason, or my love.
Adam. Call it my care, and not mistrust of thee;
Yet thou art weak, and full of art is he;
; Else how could he that host seduce to sin,
Whose fall has left the heavenly nation thin?
Eve. I grant him armed with subtilty and hate;
But why should we suspect our happy state?
Is our perfection of so frail a make,
As every plot can undermine or shake?
Think better both of heaven, thyself, and me:
Who always fears, at ease can never be.
Poor state of bliss, where so much care is shown,
As not to dare to trust ourselves alone!
Adam. Such is our state, as not exempt from fall;
Yet firm, if reason to our aid we call:
And that, in both, is stronger than in one;
I would not, — why would’st thou, then, be alone?
Eve. Because, thus warned, I know myself secure,
And long my little trial to endure,
To approve my faith, thy needless fears remove,
Gain thy esteem, and so deserve thy love.
If all this shake not thy obdurate will,
Know that, even present, I am absent still:
And then what pleasure hop’st thou in my stay,
When I’m constrained, and wish myself away?
Adam. Constraint does ill with love and beauty suit;
I would persuade, but not be absolute.
Better be much remiss, than too severe;
If pleased in absence thou wilt still be here.
Go; in thy native innocence proceed,
And summon all thy reason at thy need.
Eve. My soul, my eyes delight! in this I find
Thou lov’st; because to love is to be kind.[Embracing him.
Seeking my trial, I am still on guard:
Trials, less sought, would find us less prepared.
Our foe’s too proud the weaker to assail,
Or doubles his dishonour if he fail.[Exit.
Adam. In love, what use of prudence can there be?
More perfect I, and yet more powerful she.
Blame me not, heaven; if thou love’s power hast tried,
What could be so unjust to be denied?
One look of hers my resolution breaks;
Reason itself turns folly when she speaks:
And awed by her, whom it was made to sway,
Flatters her power, and does its own betray.[Exit.
The middle part of the Garden is represented, where four Rivers meet: On the right side of the Scene is placed the Tree of Life; on the left, the Tree of Knowledge.
Enter Lucifer.
Lucif. Methinks the beauties of this place should mourn;
The immortal fruits and flowers, at my return,
Should hang their withered heads; for sure my breath
Is now more poisonous, and has gathered death
