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 MILTON'S 
 
 PARADISE LOST 
 
 Books I and II 
 
 EDITED 
 
 WITH INTRODUCTION AND NOTES 
 
 BY 
 
 ALBERT S. COOK, 
 
 Professor of the English Language and Literature 
 in Yale University 
 
 LEACH, SHEWELL, & SANBORN, 
 
 BOSTON. NEW YORK. CHICAGO. 
 
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 Copyright, 1896, 
 By Leach, Sheavell, & Sanbokx. 
 
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 C. J. Peters & Son, Typographers. 
 
 Berwick & Smith, Printers. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 The purpose of this edition is to promote the enjoyment of 
 Milton's poetry through study of a selection which, by its 
 excellence of every sort, will reward prolonged attention. 
 Through study, not through mere reading ; for the editor does 
 not share the opinion of those who hold that the study of 
 the best literature is fatal to enjoyment. < All men,' says 
 Aristotle — and we shall hardly find a more competent 
 judge — ' all men by nature desire to know.' If the appe- 
 tite for knowledge is inborn in every human being, study, 
 which is the process of acquiring knowledge, can only be 
 distasteful when it has artificially been rendered so. There 
 are those who concede this in general, who yet make an 
 exception of literature ; but it is difficult to see why the 
 highest form of expression of which the human soul is capa- 
 ble should less repay study by enjoyment than the grass of 
 the field or the rocks of the mine. On this point I am glad 
 to find myself in substantial accord with that veteran and 
 universally respected teacher of English, Professor March, of 
 Lafayette College. He believes, as I also do, in the more 
 rapid reading of certain books, especially during the elemen- 
 tary stages of an English course, according to a method that 
 he suggests in The Independent for August 4, 1892. He 
 says, among oilier things : < The teacher may have select pas- 
 sages read in class, read them or have them read with care 
 
 iii 
 
IV PREFACE. 
 
 and expression, to bring out their thought and feeling. A 
 pupil who is a good reader will often stimulate a whole class 
 wonderfully. Comment and criticism should be used mainly 
 for pointing out beauties and exciting admiration ; passages 
 may be committed to memory. In this way fondness for 
 reading and for good books may be induced.' 
 
 All this is well, and most teachers would agree with him. 
 But he does not stop here, and proceeds to urge an advance 
 beyond such admirable beginnings. He would have great 
 literature more deeply understood than is possible through 
 such processes as have been sketched above. < We must 
 learn,' he says, 'to speak and write English; then we must 
 study it in the seats of its power, in the great English authors. 
 Early rapid reading gives us words without definition. We 
 get the denotation of names of common material objects and 
 acts somewhere near right, but without knowing their mean- 
 ing, their connotation. Abstract terms and names of com- 
 plex conceptions and idioms float vaguely through the mind. 
 There is no more delightful discipline than that of clearing 
 up these vague notions, defining them and nailing them down 
 with their words, so as to make the scholar confident master 
 of his thought. This is the preparation for all progress in 
 advanced thinking or for original writing. It is because stu- 
 dents of Latin and Greek are more thoroughly trained in this 
 discipline than others that they so often show superior com- 
 mand of thought and style to others.' 
 
 Again, he advocates the < study of English words in English 
 literature, just as the Greeks acquired their Greek by the 
 study of Greek. Demosthenes studied Thucydides. Johnson 
 tells the student of English style to spend his days and nights 
 upon Addison. Franklin formed his admirable style in that 
 way, reading good passages in the Spectator, then after a 
 
PREFACE. V 
 
 time writing out the thoughts as well as he could, and com- 
 paring his work with Addison's, word by word, and studying 
 all. John Bright formed his powerful oratory by English 
 studies. Thousands of lesser lights have trimmed their lamps, 
 such as Nature has furnished them, in the same fashion.' 
 
 He does not even shrink from employing the terms ' gram- 
 mar ' and < philology,' though it is clear that he does not be- 
 lieve that all teaching of grammar and philology is promotive 
 of literary enjoyment, since he speaks of a ' highest kind of 
 philological study,' and distinguishes this from lower kinds 
 by noting that its fruit is love for the thing studied : < It is a 
 matter of course that thorough grammatical and philological 
 study should be given to such a work if one finds it congenial. 
 " The Scripture cannot be understood theologically," says 
 Melanchthon, " unless it be first understood grammatically." 
 Men of one book, men who give much of their time to chew- 
 ing and digesting some favorite volumes, have always been 
 marked men. Genius broods ever. Luther called Galatians 
 his wife. What apparatus of grammars, dictionaries, concord- 
 ances, cyclopaedias, have those who love the Bible made for 
 the study of it, what commentaries of every kind, what long- 
 continued studies of supreme passages ! What mastery of 
 Bible English is obtained by this study, and what love of it! 
 And this is a type of the highest kind of philological study. 
 In this way Homer has been made near and dear to thousands, 
 and Socrates, and Dante, and Shakespeare. There must be a 
 great character behind the words of great literature. Then 
 for profound and worthy admiration we must have profound 
 study long continued and often repeated. Philological study 
 used as a means of clearing up, enriching, and impressing our 
 apprehension of the thought and style, makes the student 
 rejoice in them and remember them forever. The English 
 
VI PREFACE. 
 
 masters ought to he studied in the same way as the great 
 ancients.' 
 
 To the same effect is a recent utterance by Professor 
 Thomas R. Price, of Columbia College (Educational Review, 
 January, 1896) : ' And so, for the teaching of literature itself, 
 its separation from the teaching of language is altogether 
 pernicious. It leads to careless habits of reading, to false 
 thinking, to self-deception, to that bungling and smattering 
 which rob education of its real value. For the true study 
 of literature is the study, not of theories about relations of 
 history and philosophy and aesthetics, but of the meaning 
 and significance of the great works of literature themselves. 
 And the meaning of the text is so inwoven with the language 
 that expresses it, as to make all study of literature except 
 through knowledge of language delusive and fallacious.' 
 
 The present edition is an attempt to illustrate a method 
 of English study as applied to a literary masterpiece. A 
 method, not the method ; for the editor will readily concede 
 that the same result may be attained in a variety of ways. 
 Such as the book is, a few of its features may be pointed 
 out. 
 
 Milton has been made his own interpreter. With regard to 
 his theory of the poetic art, his own aim in writing, and the 
 preparation by which he qualified himself for his wonderful 
 achievement, he is allowed to speak for himself. The Intro- 
 duction contains the passages from his prose works which are 
 most constantly laid under tribute by editors and biographers 
 for the illustration of Milton's life and ideals ; but perhaps 
 they are most eloquent and convincing when freed from an- 
 cillary paraphrase and comment. For the interpretation of 
 individual words and phrases, Milton often furnishes enlight- 
 
PREFACE. Vll 
 
 ening parallels in other portions of his works; and in such 
 cases the student has been directed to draw his own inferences 
 from the passages cited in elucidatioa. 
 
 Milton has been interpreted by other poets. It is often asserted, 
 with considerable justice, that there is a class of pedantic 
 commentators who darken counsel by words without knowl- 
 edge ; and that, being intent on the mint, the anise, and 
 the cummin of scholarship, they have omitted the weightier 
 matters, insight and sympathy. How obvious is it, then, that 
 we should look to a poet's brethren in craftsmanship and soul 
 to supply interpretative comment, in cases where they have 
 shown themselves disposed to do so. Fortunately, there is 
 no lack of poetic exegetes upon Milton, and it has proved easy 
 to enrich the pages of this edition with opinions of the highest, 
 significance from artists and men like Landor, Lowell, Words- 
 worth, and Matthew Arnold. 
 
 The sources whence Milton derived inspiration or phraseology 
 have been exhibited somewhat more fully than usual. It is a com- 
 monplace that Milton was learned, and used his learning 
 freely in Paradise Lost. So fully has this been recognized, 
 that the greater part of the parallels, Biblical, classical, and 
 from earlier English poets, included in this edition, have been 
 indicated by previous commentators. The present editor, 
 however, has often quoted more extensively from standard 
 translations of the ancients than his predecessors, and in 
 several instances, as, for example, in the notes on I. 521, 550, 
 668, II. 302, 420, etc., has made contributions of his own. An 
 appendix contains Morley's translation (English Writers, vol. 
 II) of those portions of the Pseudo-Csedmonian Genesis which 
 are most strikingly similar to passages in Paradise Lost. 
 
 Besides the features just mentioned, there are others of a 
 subsidiary nature, such as the interruption of the continuity 
 
viii PREFACE. 
 
 of the text by typographical devices, and the provision of 
 marginal summaries. The latter may be welcome to those 
 who wish, before they have acquired a familiarity with the 
 poem, to gain a rapid survey of the course and argument of 
 the first two books. 
 
 The study of the text should involve substantial conformity 
 with the suggestions of the notes, and, in fact, a use of all 
 the illustrative matter provided. When reference is made 
 to the Bible, or to any other book, the reference should be 
 looked up. Nor should the labor end here. The matter of 
 the reference or the quotation is but a basis for more inter- 
 esting and profitable thought than would be possible without 
 it. The inferences and deductions to be drawn by the student 
 are, after all, the main thing, and what has been provided for 
 purposes of elucidation has been presented in strict subservi- 
 ence to this view. 
 
 The books accessible for consultation ought to comprise as 
 many as possible of those recommended on pp. 48, 49. There 
 should be a Bible ; a Globe edition (Masson's) of Milton ; a 
 Globe Spenser and a Globe Shakespeare (Macmillan) ; Lang, 
 Leaf, and Myers' translation of the Iliad ; Butcher and Lang's 
 Odyssey; the Globe translations of Virgil and Horace; the 
 Bohn translation of Ovid (at least the Metamorphoses) ; Mrs. 
 Browning's version of the Prometheus Bound, or Plumptre's 
 iEschylus (D. C. Heath & Co.) ; Longfellow's Dante (or Nor- 
 ton's, or Butler's) ; and Fairfax's Tasso (in the Carisbrooke 
 Library). Longinus on the Sublime might be added, in 
 Havell's translation (the best), or in the cheap edition pub- 
 lished, together with Aristotle's Poetics, by Cassell & Co. 
 
 Milton's employment of rhetorical figures has frequently 
 been remarked in the notes, so that the work is adapted for 
 
PREFACE. IX 
 
 use in conjunction with the teaching of rhetoric. For the 
 classification of figures, De Mille's Elements of Rhetoric is 
 the work which has been drawn upon. Compositions should 
 be written upon such themes as Milton's life, the principal 
 characters of the poem, etc. 
 
 The editor would acknowledge his obligations to the labors 
 of his predecessors, from Newton to the present. The prin- 
 cipal editions have been consulted, and something of value 
 obtained from each, the earlier ones, especially Newton's, 
 being richest in independent discoveries of literary parallels 
 and sources. A large number of these are recorded in Todd's 
 edition of Milton. 
 
 The text is substantially that of Masson, but this has some- 
 times been more strictly conformed to the first edition of 
 Paradise Lost, or changed in certain particulars of spelling or 
 punctuation to render it more consistent with itself, or more 
 clear to the reader. 
 
 The account of The Composition of Paradise Lost, in the 
 Introduction, is abridged, without further alteration, from that 
 given by Masson in the Globe edition of Milton, since there 
 was no possibility of improving upon it. Those interested in 
 the imaginative cosmogony of Paradise Lost are referred to 
 Masson's remarks on the subject in his Introduction. 
 
 The Sketch of Milton's Life, and the Chronological Table, 
 have been prepared by Mr. Frank H. Chase, Clark Scholar in 
 English in Yale University. 
 
 ALBERT S. COOK. 
 Yale University, 
 Jan. 20, 1896. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Preface ni 
 
 Introduction. 
 
 I. Sketch of Milton's Life 1 
 
 II. Milton's Early Life and Ideals as set forth in 
 
 His own Words 3 
 
 III. The Composition of Paradise Lost 18 
 
 IY. Milton as viewed by Other Poets 30 
 
 V. Chronological Table 44 
 
 VI. Aids to the Study of Milton 48 
 
 Milton's Remarks on 'The Yerse ' 51 
 
 Paradise Lost. 
 
 Book 1 52 
 
 Book II 82 
 
 Notes. 
 
 Book 1 11° 
 
 Book II 160 
 
 Appendix. 
 
 Extracts from the Genesis of the Pseudo-Casdmon, Mor- 
 
 ley's Translation 191 
 
 Index of Authors Quoted or Referred to . . . . 199 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 I. SKETCH OF MILTON'S LIFE. 
 
 John Milton was born Dec. 9, 1608, in London; and in 
 London his whole life, except the years from 1625 to 1639, 
 was passed. Of this period of fourteen years, the first seven 
 were spent at Christ's College, Cambridge, which he left as a 
 Master of Arts in 1632 ; he then retired to his father's home 
 at Horton, in Buckinghamshire, where he lived quietly, en- 
 gaged, for the most part, in the study of the Classics, until 
 1638. In April of that year he set out for a sixteen months' 
 journey in Italy, visiting Florence — where he saw the aged 
 Galileo in prison, and made many friends — Rome, Naples, 
 and other cities. In 1639 he returned to London, and opened 
 a little school in his house, having first his two nephews, and 
 later other boys, as pupils. In 1649, on the establishment of 
 the Commonwealth, he was appointed Latin Secretary to the 
 Council of State, a post which he retained under Cromwell 
 and his son. During this period he became totally blind. 
 After the Restoration, when he escaped the anger of Charles 
 II. against the regicides, he was compelled to a quiet life. 
 This he employed in literary works, dictating his poetry to his 
 daughters or other amanuenses. His death occurred Nov. 8, 
 1674. 
 
 The literary career of Milton naturally falls into three well- 
 1 
 
2 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 marked periods : the first and third, of approximately fifteen 
 years each, are distinguished by poetry ; the second by prose. 
 
 In the first of these periods, which coincides with Milton's 
 absence from London (1625-1639), he devoted himself to lyric 
 poetry. Previously to his departure for Cambridge he had 
 produced only the paraphrases of two Psalms. At college he 
 wrote some English poems, including the Hymn on the Morn- 
 ing of Christ's Nativity, and a number in Latin. At Christ's, 
 too, were written the first of the series of Sonnets, which form 
 a sort of glorified running-commentary on his life. But his 
 lyric powers found their highest expression during his six years 
 of retirement at Horton. Here he produced L' Allegro, II 
 Penseroso, Lycidas, and the Arcades, besides Comus, the 
 noblest of English masques, which was performed at Ludlow 
 Castle in 1634. On his return from Italy in 1639 he wrote 
 the Epitaphium Damonis, his best Latin poem, to the memory 
 of Charles Diodati, a college friend. During this period, 
 especially its later years, he had his epic much in mind ; but 
 for this he saw that he was not yet ripe. 
 
 With Milton's return to London, in 1640, begins his second 
 period, — that of controversial prose. During the twenty years 
 that followed he was the foremost writer on the Parliament 
 side — the man on whom the leaders depended for a telling- 
 stroke when it was most needed. He was a good fighter, and 
 stoutly defended in turn the Nonconformists against the 
 Church-party, the Independents against the Presbyterians, the 
 English people against attacks from abroad, and finally a 
 republican form of government against monarchy. Whatever 
 the question, he was on the side of freedom, and his lance was 
 as sharp as his aim was true. To his excessive application, 
 when he was writing the First Defence against Salmasius, 
 was due, at least proximately, the loss of his sight. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 3 
 
 On the restoration of the Stuarts, Milton was once more 
 free to devote himself to poetry. His third period, in which 
 his great epics were produced, extends from 1658 (thus lap- 
 ping slightly on the period of prose) until his death in 1674. 
 During the twenty years of controversy, his poetic gift had 
 not quite slumbered : the series of twenty-three sonnets, a 
 slender rill of pure poetry trickling down through the years, 
 unites the lyrics of his youth with the great works of his 
 maturity. In 1658, the year in which the last of these was 
 written, he first put his hand to Paradise Lost, the mighty 
 poem for which his whole life up to that time had been a 
 more or less conscious preparation. In his earlier days the 
 thought of it had helped to keep his ideals high, and in Italy, 
 twenty years before, he had reflected much upon it ; now, see- 
 ing that the great world had no use for him longer, he retired 
 within himself to fulfil his life-dream. In 1667 Paradise 
 Lost was published, in ten books ; in 1674 it appeared in 
 a second edition, this time in twelve books, as we now have 
 it. Paradise Regained, undertaken at the suggestion of 
 Thomas Ellwood, a young Quaker friend of the poet, and 
 Samson Agonistes, a lyric drama, were published in one 
 volume in 1671. A few months after the appearance of 
 Paradise Lost in its final form, his work done, John Milton, 
 by general consent the second name in English literature, 
 passed away. 
 
 II. MILTON'S EARLY LIFE AND IDEALS AS SET 
 FORTH IN HIS OWN WORDS. 
 
 [Translated from the Latin of the Defensio Secunda, 1654.] 
 
 I was born at London, of an honest family ; my father was 
 distinguished by the undeviating integrity of his life; my 
 
4 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 mother by the esteem in which she was held, and the alms 
 which she bestowed. My father destined me from a child to 
 the pursuits of literature ; and my appetite for knowledge was 
 so voracious, that, from twelve years of age, I hardly ever left 
 my studies, or went to bed before midnight. This primarily 
 led to my loss of sight. My eyes were naturally weak, and I 
 was subject to frequent headaches ; which, however, could not 
 chill the ardor of my curiosity, or retard the progress of my 
 improvement. My father had me daily instructed in the 
 grammar-school, and by other masters at home. He then, 
 after I had acquired a proficiency in various languages, and 
 had made a considerable progress in philosophy, sent me to 
 the University of Cambridge. Here I passed seven years in 
 the usual course of instruction and study, with the approba- 
 tion of the good, and without any stain upon my character, 
 till I took the degree of Master of Arts. 
 
 After this I did not, as the miscreant feigns, run away into 
 Italy, but of my own accord retired to my father's house, 
 whither I was accompanied by the regrets of most of the fel- 
 lows of the college, who showed me no common marks of 
 friendship and esteem. On my father's estate, where he *had 
 determined to pass the remainder of his days, I enjoyed an 
 interval of uninterrupted leisure, which I entirely devoted to 
 the perusal of the Greek and Latin classics ; though I occa- 
 sionally visited the metropolis, either for the sake of purchas- 
 ing books, or of learning something new in mathematics or in 
 music, in which I, at that time, found a source of pleasure 
 and amusement. In this manner I spent five years till my 
 mother's death. 
 
 I then became anxious to visit foreign parts, and particu- 
 larly Italy. My father gave me his permission, and I left 
 home with one servant. On my departure, the celebrated 
 
INTRODUCTION. 5 
 
 Henry Wotton, who had long been King James's Ambassador 
 at Venice, gave me a signal proof of his regard, in an elegant 
 letter which he wrote, breathing not only the warmest friend- 
 ship, but containing some maxims of conduct which I found 
 very useful in my travels. The noble Thomas Scudamore, 
 King Charles's ambassador, to whom I carried letters of recom- 
 mendation, received me most courteously at Paris. His lord- 
 ship gave me a card of introduction to the learned Hugo 
 Grotius, at that time Ambassador from the Queen of Sweden 
 to the French court ; whose acquaintance I anxiously desired, 
 and to whose house I was accompanied by some of his lord- 
 ship's friends. A few days after, when I set out for Italy, he 
 gave me letters to the English merchants on my route, that 
 they might show me any civilities in their power. Taking 
 ship at Nice, I arrived at Genoa, and afterwards visited Leg- 
 horn, Pisa, and Florence. In the latter city, which I have 
 always more particularly esteemed for the elegance of its dia- 
 lect, its genius, and its taste, I stayed about two months ; 
 when I contracted an intimacy with many persons of rank and 
 learning, and was a constant attendant at their literary par- 
 ties ; a practice which prevails there, and tends so much to 
 the diffusion of knowledge and the preservation of friendship. 
 No time will ever abolish the agreeable recollections which I 
 cherish of Jacopo Gaddi, Carlo Dati, Frescobaldi, Coltellini, 
 Buonmattei, Chimentelli, Francini, and many others. From 
 Florence I went to Siena, thence to Rome, where, after I had 
 spent about two months in viewing the antiquities of that 
 renowned city, where I experienced the most friendly atten- 
 tions from Lucas Holsten, and other learned and ingenious 
 men, I continued my route to Naples. There I was intro- 
 duced by a certain recluse, with whom I had traveled from 
 Rome, to Giovanni Battista Manso, Marquis of Villa, a noble- 
 
6 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 man of distinguished rank and authority, to whom Torquato 
 Tasso, the illustrious poet, inscribed his book on friendship. 
 During my stay he gave me singular proofs of his regard. He 
 himself conducted me round the city, and to the palace of the 
 viceroy, and more than once paid me a visit at my lodgings. 
 On my departure he gravely apologized for not having shown 
 me more civility, which he said he had been restrained from 
 doing, because I had spoken with so little reserve on matters 
 of religion. 
 
 When I was preparing to pass over into Sicily and Greece, 
 the melancholy intelligence which I received of the civil com- 
 motions in England made me alter my purpose ; for I thought 
 it base to be traveling for amusement abroad, while my fel- 
 low-citizens were fighting for liberty at home. While I was 
 on my way back to Home, some merchants informed me that 
 the English Jesuits had formed a plot against me if I returned 
 to Rome, because I had spoken too freely on religion ; for it 
 was a rule which I laid down to myself in these places, never 
 to be the first to begin any conversation on religion, but if 
 any questions were put to me concerning my faith, to declare 
 it without any reserve or fear. I nevertheless returned to 
 Rome. I took no steps to conceal either my person or my 
 character ; and for about the space of two months I again 
 openly defended, as I had done before, the reformed religion 
 in the very metropolis of Popery. By the favor of God, I got 
 safe back to Florence, where I was received with as much 
 affection as if I had returned to my native country. There 
 I stopped as many months as I had done before, except that I 
 made an excursion for a few days to Lucca ; and, crossing the 
 Apennines, passed through Bologna and Ferrara to Venice. 
 After I had spent a month in surveying the curiosities of this 
 city, and put on board a ship the books which I had collected 
 
INTRODUCTION. 7 
 
 in Italy, I proceeded through Verona and Milan, and along 
 the Leman Lake to Geneva. The mention of this city brings 
 to my recollection the slandering More, and makes me again 
 call the Deity to witness that in all those places in which 
 vice meets with so little discouragement, and is practised with 
 so little shame, I never once deviated from the paths of integ- 
 rity and virtue, and perpetually reflected that, though my con- 
 duct might escape the notice of men, it could not elude the 
 inspection of God. At Geneva I held daily conversations with 
 John Diodati, the learned Professor of Theology. Then, pur- 
 suing my former route through France, I returned to my 
 native country, after an absence of one year and about three 
 months ; at the time when Charles, having broken the peace, 
 was renewing what is called the Episcopal War with the Scots, 
 in which the Royalists being routed in the first encounter, and 
 the English being universally and justly disaffected, the neces- 
 sity of his affairs at last obliged him to convene a Parliament. 
 As soon as I was able, I hired a spacious house in the city for 
 myself and my books ; where I again with rapture renewed 
 my literary pursuits, and where I calmly awaited the issue of 
 the contest, which I trusted to the wise conduct of Providence, 
 and to the courage of the people. 
 
 [From the Apology for Smectymnuus, 1642.] 
 I had my time, readers, as others have, who have good 
 learning bestowed upon them, to be sent to those places where 
 the opinion was it might be soonest attained ; and, as the man- 
 ner is, was not unstudied in those authors which are most 
 commended. Whereof some were grave orators and histo- 
 rians, whose matter methought I loved indeed, but, as my 
 age then was, so I understood them ; others were the smooth 
 elegiac poets, whereof the schools are not scarce, whom both 
 
8 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 for the pleasing sound of their numerous writing, which in 
 imitation I found most easy, and most agreeable to nature's 
 part in me, and for their matter, which what it is there be 
 few who know not, I was so allured to read, that no recreation 
 came to me better welcome. For that it was then those years 
 with me which are excused, though they be least severe, I 
 may be saved the labor to remember ye. Whence having 
 observed them to account it the chief glory of their wit, in 
 that they were ablest to judge, to praise, and by that could 
 esteem themselves worthiest to love, those high perfections 
 which under one or other name they took to celebrate ; I 
 thought with myself by every instinct and presage of nature, 
 which is not wont to be false, that what emboldened them to 
 this task, might, with such diligence as they used, embolden 
 me ; and that what judgment, wit, or elegance was my share, 
 would herein best appear, and best value itself, by how much 
 more wisely, and with more love of virtue, 1 should choose 
 (let rude ears be absent) the object of not unlike praises. . . . 
 By the firm settling of these persuasions, I became, to my 
 best memory, so much a proficient, that if I found those 
 authors anywhere speaking unworthy tilings of themselves, or 
 unchaste of those names which before they had extolled, this 
 effect it wrought with me, — from that time forward their art 
 I still applauded, but the men I deplored, and above them all 
 preferred the two famous renowners of Beatrice and Laura, 
 who never write but honor of them to whom they devote their 
 verse, displaying sublime and pure thoughts without trans- 
 gression. And long it was not after, when I was confirmed in 
 this opinion, that he would not be frustrate of his hope to 
 write well hereafter in laudable things ought himself to be a 
 true poem — that is, a composition and pattern of the best 
 and honorablest things ; not presuming to sing high praises 
 
INTRODUCTION. 9 
 
 of heroic men or famous cities, unless he have in himself the 
 experience and the practice of all that which is praiseworthy. 
 These reasonings, together with a certain niceness of nature, 
 an honest haughtiness, and self-esteem either of what I was or 
 what I might be (which let envy call pride), and lastly that 
 modesty, whereof, though not in the title-page, yet here I may 
 be excused to make some beseeming profession ; all these 
 uniting the supply of their natural aid together, kept me still 
 above those low descents of mind, beneath which he must 
 deject and plunge himself, that can agree to salable and 
 unlawful prostitutions. 
 
 Next (for hear me out now, readers), that I may tell ye 
 whither my younger feet wandered, I betook me among those 
 lofty fables and romances which recount in solemn cantos the 
 deeds of knighthood founded by our victorious kings, and 
 from hence had in renown all over Christendom. There I 
 read it in the oath of every knight that he should defend, to 
 the expense of his best blood, or of his life if it so befell 
 him, the honor and chastity of virgin or matron ; from 
 whence even then I learned what a noble virtue chastity sure 
 must be, to be the defense of which so many worthies, by 
 such a dear adventure of themselves, had sworn. And if I 
 found in the story afterward, any of them, by word or deed, 
 breaking that oath, I judged it the same fault of the poet as 
 that which is attributed to Homer, to have written indecent 
 things of the gods. Only this my mind gave me, that every 
 free and gentle spirit, without that oath, ought to be born 
 a knight, nor needed to expect a gilt spur, or the laying of a 
 sword upon his shoulder, to stir him up both by his counsel 
 and his arms to secure and protect the weakness of any 
 attempted chastity. So that even these books, which to many 
 others have been the fuel of wantonness and loose living, I 
 
1 INTR OD UCTION. 
 
 cannot think how, unless by divine indulgence, proved to me 
 so many incitements, as you have heard, to the love and stead- 
 fast observation of that virtue which abhors the society of 
 bordelloes. 
 
 Thus, from the laureate fraternity of poets, riper years and 
 the ceaseless round of study and reading led me to the shady 
 spaces of philosophy, but chiefly to the divine volumes of 
 Plato, and his equal Xenophon ; where if I should tell ye what 
 I learnt of chastity and love — I mean that which is truly 
 so — whose charming cup is only virtue, which she bears in 
 her hand to those who are worthy (the rest are cheated with 
 a thick, intoxicating potion, which a certain sorceress, the 
 abuser of love's name, carries about) ; and how the first and 
 chiefest office of love begins and ends in the soul, producing 
 those happy twins of her divine generation, knowledge and 
 virtue ; with such abstracted sublimities as these, it might 
 be worth your listening, readers, as I may one day hope to 
 have ye in a still time, when there shall be no chiding. 
 
 [From The Reason of Church Government urged against Prelaty, 1641.] 
 
 Lastly, I should not choose this manner of 'writing, where- 
 in knowing myself inferior to myself, led by the genial power 
 of nature to another task, I have the use, as I may account, 
 but of my left hand. And though I shall be foolish in saying 
 more to this purpose, yet since it will be such a folly as wisest 
 men go about to commit, having only confessed and so com- 
 mitted, I may trust with more reason, because with more 
 folly, to have courteous pardon. For although a poet, soaring 
 in the high reason of his fancies, with his garland and singing- 
 robes about him, might without apology speak more of him- 
 self than I mean to do ; yet for me, sitting here below in the 
 cool element of prose, a mortal thing among many readers of 
 
INTIi OB UCTION. 11 
 
 no empyreal conceit, to venture and divulge unusual things 
 of myself, I shall petition to the gentler sort it may not be 
 envy to me. 
 
 I must say, therefore, that after I had for my first years, by 
 the ceaseless diligence and care of my father (whom God 
 recompense !) been exercised to the tongues and some sciences, 
 as my age would suffer, by sundry masters and teachers, both 
 at home and at the schools, it was found that whether aught 
 was imposed me by them that had the overlooking, or betaken 
 to of mine own choice in English or other tongue, prosing or 
 versing, but chiefly by this latter, the style, by certain vital 
 signs it had, was likely to live. But much latelier in the 
 private Academies of Italy, whither I was favored to resort, 
 perceiving that some trifles which I had in memory, composed 
 at under twenty or thereabout (for the manner is, that every 
 one must give some proof of his wit and reading there), met 
 with acceptance above what was looked for ; and other things, 
 which I had shifted in scarcity of books and conveniences to 
 patch up amongst them, were received with written encomiums, 
 which the Italian is not forward to bestow on men of this side 
 the Alps ; I began thus far to assent both to them and divers of 
 my friends here at home, and not less to an inward prompting 
 which now grew daily upon me, that by labor and intense 
 study (which I take to be my portion in this life), joined with 
 the strong propensity of nature, I might perhaps leave some- 
 thing so written to after-times, as they should not willingly 
 let it die. 
 
 These thoughts at once possessed me, and these other : that 
 if I were certain to write as men buy leases, for three lives 
 and downward, there ought no regard be sooner had than to 
 God's glory by the honor and instruction of my country. For 
 which cause, and not only for that I knew it would be hard to 
 
12 IB TR OB UCTION. 
 
 arrive at the second rank among the Latins, I applied myself 
 to that resolution which Ariosto followed against the per- 
 suasions of Bembo, to fix all the industry and art I could 
 unite to the adorning of my native tongue ; not to make 
 verbal curiosities the end — that were a toilsome vanity — but 
 to be an interpreter and relater of the best and sagest things 
 among mine own citizens throughout this island in the mother 
 dialect. That what the greatest and choicest wits of Athens, 
 Rome, or modern Italy, and those Hebrews of old, did for 
 their country, I, in my proportion, with this over and above 
 of being a Christian, might do for mine ; not caring to be 
 once named abroad, though perhaps I could attain to that, 
 but content with these British islands as my world; whose 
 fortune hath hitherto been, that if the Athenians, as some 
 say, made their small deeds great and renowned by their elo- 
 quent writers, England hath had her noble achievements made 
 small by the unskilful handling of monks and mechanics. 
 
 Time serves not now, and perhaps I might seem too pro- 
 fuse, to give any certain account of what the mind at home, 
 in the spacious circuits of her musing, hath liberty to propose 
 to herself, though of highest hope and hardest attempting ; 
 whether that epic form whereof the two poems of Homer, and 
 those other two of Virgil and Tasso, are a diffuse, and the 
 book of Job a brief model ; or whether the rules of Aristotle 
 herein are strictly to be kept, or nature to be followed, which 
 in them that know art and use judgment is no transgression, 
 but an enriching of art ; and, lastly, what king or knight 
 before the Conquest might be chosen, in whom to lay the 
 pattern of a Christian hero. And as Tasso gave to a prince 
 of Italy his choice whether he would command him to Avrite 
 of Godfrey's expedition against the Infidels, or Belisarius 
 against the Goths, or Charlemain against the Lombards ; if to 
 
INTRODUCTION. 13 
 
 the instinct of nature and the emboldening of art aught may 
 be trusted, and that there be nothing adverse in our climate 
 or the fate of this age, it haply would be no rashness, from 
 an equal diligence and inclination, to present the like offer in 
 our own ancient stories ; or whether those dramatic constitu- 
 tions, wherein Sophocles and Euripides reign, shall be found 
 more doctrinal and exemplary to a nation. The Scripture 
 also affords us a divine pastoral drama in the Song of Solo- 
 mon, consisting of two persons and a double chorus, as Ori- 
 gen rightly judges. And the Apocalypse of St. John is the 
 majestic image of a high and stately tragedy, shutting up and 
 intermingling her solemn scenes and acts with a sevenfold 
 chorus of hallelujahs and harping symphonies ; and this my 
 opinion the grave authority of Parseus, commenting that book, 
 is sufficient to confirm. Or, if occasion shall lead, to imitate 
 those magnific odes and hymns, wherein Pindarus and Callim- 
 achus are in most things worthy, some others in their frame 
 judicious, in their matter most an end faulty. But those fre- 
 quent songs throughout the law and prophets beyond all these, 
 not in their divine argument alone, but in the very critical art 
 of composition, may be easily made appear over all the kinds 
 of lyric poesy to be incomparable. 
 
 These abilities, wheresoever they be found, are the inspired 
 gift of God, rarely bestowed, but yet to some (though most 
 abuse) in every nation ; and are of power, beside the office of 
 a pulpit, to imbreed and cherish in a great people the seeds 
 of virtue and public civility, to allay the perturbations of the 
 mind, and set the affections in right tune ; to celebrate in 
 glorious and lofty hymns the throne and equipage of God's 
 almightiness, and what he works, and what he suffers to be 
 wrought with high providence in his Church ; to sing victori- 
 ous agonies of martyrs and saints, the deeds and triumphs of 
 
14 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 just and pious nations, doing valiantly through faith against 
 the enemies of Christ; to deplore the general relapses of 
 kingdoms and states from justice and God's true worship. 
 Lastly, whatsoever in religion is holy and sublime, in virtue 
 amiable or grave, whatsoever hath passion or admiration in 
 all the changes of that which is called fortune from without, 
 or the wily subtleties and refluxes of man's thoughts from 
 within ; all these things with a solid and treatable smoothness 
 to paint out and describe, teaching over the whole book of 
 sanctity and virtue, through all the instances of example, with 
 such delight to those especially of soft and delicious temper, 
 who will not so much as look upon truth herself unless they 
 see her elegantly dressed, that, whereas the paths of honesty 
 and good life appear now rugged and difficult, though they be 
 indeed easy and pleasant, they will then appear to all men 
 both easy and pleasant, though they were rugged and difficult 
 indeed. And what a benefit this would be to our youth and 
 gentry may be soon guessed by what we know of the corrup- 
 tion and bane which they suck in daily from the writings and 
 interludes of libidinous and ignorant poetasters, who, having 
 scarce ever heard of that which is the main consistence of 
 a true poem — the choice of such persons as they ought to 
 introduce, and what is moral and decent to each one — do 
 for the most part lay up vicious principles in sweet pills to 
 be swallowed down, and make the taste of virtuous docu- 
 ments harsh and sour. . . . 
 
 The thing which I had to say, and those intentions which 
 have lived within me ever since I could conceive myself any- 
 thing worth to my country, I return to crave excuse that 
 urgent reason hath plucked from me, by an abortive and fore- 
 dated discovery. And the accomplishment of them lies not 
 but in a power above man's to promise ; but that none hath 
 
INTRODUCTION. 15 
 
 by more studious ways endeavored, and with more unwearied 
 spirit that none shall, that I dare almost aver of myself, 
 as far as life and free leisure will extend, and that the land 
 had once enfranchised herself from this impertinent yoke of 
 prelaty, under whose inquisitorious and tyrannical duncery 
 no free and splendid wit can nourish. Neither do I think 
 it shame to covenant with any knowing reader that for some 
 few years yet I may go on trust with him toward the payment 
 of what I am now indebted, as being a work not to be raised 
 from the heat of youth, or the vapors of wine, — like that 
 which flows at waste from the pen of some vulgar amorist, 
 or the trencher fury of a riming parasite ; nor to be obtained 
 by the invocation of Dame Memory and her siren daughters, 
 but by devout prayer to that Eternal Spirit who can enrich 
 with all utterance and knowledge, and sends out his Seraphim 
 with the hallowed fire of his altar, to touch and purify the lips 
 of whom he pleases. To this must be added industrious and 
 select reading, steady observation, insight into all seemly and 
 generous arts and affairs ; till which in some measure be com- 
 passed, at mine own peril and cost I refuse not to sustain 
 this expectation from as many as are not loth to hazard so 
 much credulity upon the best pledges that I can give them. 
 Although it nothing content me to have disclosed thus much 
 beforehand, but that 1 trust hereby to make it manifest with 
 what small willingness I endure to interrupt the pursuit of no 
 less hopes than these, and leave a calm and pleasing solitari- 
 ness, fed with cheerful and confident thoughts, to embark in 
 a troubled sea of noises and hoarse disputes, put from behold- 
 ing the bright countenance of truth in the quiet and still air 
 of delightful studies. . . . But were it the meanest under- 
 service, if God by his secretary Conscience enjoin it, it were 
 sad for me if I should draw back ; for me especially, now 
 
16 IN TROD UCTION. 
 
 when all men offer their aid to help, ease, and lighten the 
 difficult labors of the Church, to whose service, by the inten- 
 tions of my parents and friends, I was destined of a child, 
 and in mine own resolutions ; till, coming to some maturity of 
 years, and perceiving what tyranny had invaded the Church, 
 that he who would take orders must subscribe slave, and take 
 an oath withal, which, unless he took with a conscience that 
 would retch, he must either straight perjure, or split his faith ; 
 I thought it better to prefer a blameless silence before the 
 sacred office of speaking, bought and begun with servitude 
 and forswearing. 
 
 [From the Tractate on Education, 1641.] 
 
 When all these employments are well conquered, then will 
 the choice histories, heroic poems, and Attic tragedies of state- 
 liest and most regal argument, with all the famous political 
 orations, offer themselves ; which, if they were not only read, 
 but some of them got by memory, and solemnly pronounced 
 with right accent and grace, as might be taught, would endue 
 them even with the spirit and vigor of Demosthenes or 
 Cicero, Euripides or Sophocles. 
 
 And now, lastly, will be the time to read with them those 
 organic arts, which enable men to discourse and write per- 
 spicuously, elegantly, and according to the fittest style of 
 lofty, mean, or lowly. Logic, therefore, so much as is useful, 
 is to be referred to this due place with all her well-couched 
 heads and topics, until it be time to open her contracted palm 
 into a graceful and ornate rhetoric, taught out of the rule 
 of Plato, Aristotle, Phalereus, Cicero, Hermogenes, Longinus. 
 To which poetry would be made subsequent, or indeed rather 
 precedent, as being less subtile and fine, but more simple, sen- 
 suous, and passionate. I mean not here the prosody of a verse, 
 
INTB OB UCTION. 1 7 
 
 which they could not but have hit on before among the rudi- 
 ments of grammar, but that sublime art which in Aristotle's 
 Poetics, in Horace, and the Italian commentaries of Castelve- 
 tro, Tasso, Mazzoni, and others, teaches what the laws are of 
 a true epic poem, what of a dramatic, what of a lyric, what 
 decorum is, which is the grand masterpiece to observe. This 
 would make them soon perceive what despicable creatures our 
 common rimers and play-writers be, and show them what 
 religious, what glorious and magnificent use might be made 
 of poetry, both in divine and human things. From hence, 
 and not till now, will be the right season of forming them to 
 be able writers and composers in every excellent matter, when 
 they shall be thus fraught with a universal insight into 
 things. 
 
 [From the Apology for Smectymnwts, 1642.] 
 
 True eloquence I find to be none but the serious and 
 hearty love of truth; and that whose mind soever is fully 
 possessed with a fervent desire to know good things, and 
 with the dearest charity to infuse the knowledge of them into 
 others, when such a man would speak, his words (by what I 
 can express), like so many nimble and airy servitors, trip about 
 him at command, and, in well-ordered files, as he would wish, 
 fall aptly into their own places. 
 
 [From the Defensio Secunda, 1654.] 
 
 He alone is worthy of the appellation [great] who either 
 does great things, or teaches how they may be done, or de- 
 scribes them with a suitable majesty when they have been 
 done ; but those only are great things which tend to render 
 life more happy, which increase the innocent enjoyments and 
 comforts of existence, or which pave the way to a state of 
 future bliss more permanent and more pure. 
 
18 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 III. THE COMPOSITION OF PARADISE LOST. 
 
 FROM MASSON'S INTRODUCTION TO PARADISE LOST. 
 
 It was in 1639, after his return from his Italian tour, in 
 his thirty-first year, that Milton, as he tells us, first bethought 
 himself seriously of some great literary work, on a scale com- 
 mensurate with his powers, and which posterity should not 
 willingly let die. He had resolved that it should be an Eng- 
 lish poem; he had resolved that it should be an epic; nay t 
 he had all but resolved — as is proved by his Latin poem to 
 Manso, and his Epitaphium Damonis — that his subject should 
 be taken from the legendary history of Britain, and should in- 
 clude the romance of Arthur and his Knights of the Round 
 Table. Suddenly, however, this decision was shaken. He 
 became uncertain whether the dramatic form might not be 
 fitter for his x purpose than the epic, and, letting go the subject 
 of Arthur, he began to look about for other subjects. The 
 proof exists in the form of a list — written by Milton's own 
 hand in 1640-1, or certainly not later than 1642, and pre- 
 served among the Milton MSS. in Trinity College, Cambridge 
 — of about one hundred subjects, many of them Scriptural, 
 and the rest from British History, which he had jotted down, 
 with the intention, apparently, of estimating their relative de- 
 grees of capability, and at last fixing on the one, or the one 
 or two, that should appear best. Now, at the head of this long- 
 list of subjects is Paradise Lost. There are no fewer than 
 four separate drafts of this subject as then meditated by Mil- 
 ton for dramatic treatment. The first draft consists merely of 
 a list of dramatis persona*, as follows : — 
 
 " The Persons : —Michael; Heavenly Love; Chorus of Angels; 
 Lucifer; Adam, Eve, with the Serpent; Conscience; Death; Labor, 
 Sickness, Discontent, Ignorance, with others, Mutes; Faith; Hope; 
 Charity." 
 
INTRODUCTION. 19 
 
 This draft having been cancelled, another is written parallel 
 with it, as follows : — 
 
 " The Persons : —Moses [originally written 'Michael or Moses,' 
 but the words 'Michael or' deleted, so as to leave 'Moses ' as prefer- 
 able for the drama] ; Justice, Mercy, Wisdom ; Heavenly Love ; the 
 Evening Star, Hesperus ; Lucifer ; Adam ; Eve ; Conscience ; Labor, 
 Sickness, Discontent, Ignorance, Fear, Death, [as] Mutes; Faith; 
 Hope; Charity." 
 
 This having also been scored out, there follows a third draft, 
 more complete, thus : — 
 
 "Paradise Lost: — The Persons: Moses Trpoloyi^u, recounting 
 how he assumed his true body ; that it corrupts not, because of his 
 [being] with God in the mount; declares the like of Enoch and Elian, 
 besides the purity of the place — that certain pure winds, dews, and 
 clouds preserve it from corruption; whence exhorts to the sight of 
 God ; tells them they cannot see Adam in the state of innocence by 
 reason of their sin. — [Act I.] : Justice, Mercy, Wisdom, debating 
 what should become of Man if he fall. Chorus of Angels sing a 
 hymn of the Creation. — Act II.: Heavenly Love; Evening Star. 
 Chorus sing the marriage song and describe Paradise. — Act III.: 
 Lucifer contriving Adam's ruin. Chorus fears for Adam and relates 
 Lucifer's rebellion and fall. — Act IV.: Adam, Eve, fallen; Con- 
 science cites them to God's examination. Chorus bewails and tells 
 the good Adam hath lost. — Act V.: Adam and Eve driven out of 
 Paradise, presented by an Angel with Labor, Grief, Hatred, Envy, 
 War, Famine, Pestilence, Sickness, Discontent, Ignorance, Fear, [as] 
 Mutes — to whom he gives their names — likewise Winter, Heat, 
 Tempest, &c. ; Death entered into the world ; Faith, Hope, Charity, 
 comfort and instruct him. Chorus briefly concludes." 
 
 This is left standing; but in another part of the IMS., 
 as if written at some interval of time, is a fourth draft, as 
 follows : — 
 
 "Adam Unparadised: — The Angel Gabriel, either descending 
 or entering — showing, since the globe is created, his frequency as 
 much on Earth as in Heaven — describes Paradise. Next the Chorus, 
 
20 INTB OB UCTION. 
 
 showing the reason of his coming — to keep his watch, after Lucifer's 
 rebellion, by the command of God — and withal expressing his desire 
 to see and know more concerning this excellent and new creature, 
 Man. The Angel Gabriel, as by his name signifying a Prince of 
 Power, passes by the station of the Chorus, and, desired by them, 
 relates what he knew of Man, as the creation of Eve, with their love 
 and marriage. — After this, Lucifer appears, after his overthrow; 
 bemoans himself; seeks revenge upon Man. The Chorus prepares 
 resistance at his first approach. At last, after discourse of enmity 
 on either side, he departs; whereat the Chorus sing of the battle and 
 victory in Heaven against him and his accomplices, as before, after 
 the first Act, was sung a hymn of the Creation. — Here again may 
 appear Lucifer, relating and consulting on what he had done to the 
 destruction of Man. Man next and Eve, having been by this time 
 seduced by the Serpent, appear confusedly, covered with leaves. 
 Conscience, in a shape, accuses him ; Justice cites him to the place 
 whither Jehovah called for him. In the meantime the Chorus enter- 
 tains the stage and is informed by some Angel of the manner of the 
 Fall. Here the Chorus bewails Adam's fall. — Adam and Eve return 
 and accuse one another; but especially Adam lays the blame to his 
 wife — is stubborn in his offence. Justice appears, reasons with him, 
 convinces him. The Chorus admonishes Adam, and bids him beware 
 Lucifer's example of impenitence. — The Angel is sent to banish them 
 out of Paradise ; but, before, causes to pass before his eyes, in shapes, 
 a masque of all the evils of this life and world. He is humbled, 
 relents, despairs. At last appears Mercy, comforts him, promises 
 him the Messiah ; then calls in Faith, Hope, Charity; instructs him. 
 He repents, gives God the glory, submits to his penalty. The Chorus 
 briefly concludes. — Compare this with the former Draft." 
 
 These schemes of a possible drama on the subject of Para- 
 dise Lost were written out by Milton as early as between 1639 
 and 1642, or between his thirty-first and his thirty-fourth year, 
 as a portion of a list of about a hundred subjects which occurred 
 to him, in the course of his reading at that time, as worth con- 
 sidering for the great English Poem which he hoped to give to 
 the world. From the place and the proportion of space which 
 
INTRODUCTION. 21 
 
 they occupy in the list, it is apparent that the subject of Para- 
 dise Lost had then fascinated him more strongly than any of 
 the others, and that, if his notion of an epic on Arthur was 
 then given up, a drama on Paradise Lost had occurred to him 
 as the most likely substitute. It is also more probable than 
 not that he then knew of previous dramas that had been 
 written on the subject, and that, in writing out his own 
 schemes, he had the schemes of some of these dramas in his 
 mind. Vondel's play was not then in existence ; but An- 
 dreini's was. Farther, there is evidence in Milton's prose pam- 
 phlets published about this time that, if he did ultimately fix 
 on the subject he had so particularly been meditating, he was 
 likely enough to make himself acquainted with any previous 
 efforts on the same subject, and to turn them to account for 
 whatever they might be worth. Thus, in his Reason of Church 
 Government (1641), taking the public into his confidence in 
 various matters relating to himself, and informing them par- 
 ticularly how his mind had been recently occupied with thoughts 
 of a great English poem (whether an epic or a drama he had 
 not, he hints, quite determined), and with what reluctance he 
 felt himself drawn away from that design to engage in the 
 political controversies of the time, he thus pledges himself 
 that the design, though necessarily postponed, shall not be 
 abandoned : l Neither do I think it shame to covenant with 
 any knowing reader that for some few years yet I may go 
 on trust with him toward the payment of what I am now 
 indebted, as being a work not to be raised from the heat of 
 youth, or the vapors of wine, like that which flows at waste 
 from the pen of some vulgar amorist, or the trencher-fury of a 
 riming parasite, nor to be obtained by the invocation of Dame 
 Memory and her Siren daughters, but by devout prayer to that 
 Eternal Spirit who can enrich with all utterance and knowledge, 
 
oo 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 and sends out his Seraphim with the hallowed fire of his altar 
 to touch and purify the lips of whom he pleases. To this must 
 be added industrious and select reading, steady observation, 
 insight into all seemly and generous arts and affairs — till 
 which in some measure be compassed, at mine own peril and 
 cost I refuse not to sustain this expectation from as many as 
 are not loth to hazard so much credulity upon the best pledges 
 that I can give them.' 
 
 There is evidence that, about the time when Milton thus 
 announced to the public his design of some great English 
 poem, to be accomplished at leisure, and when he was pri- 
 vately considering with himself whether a tragedy on the 
 subject of Paradise Lost might not best fulfil the conditions 
 of such a design, he had actually gone so far as to write not 
 only the foregoing drafts of the tragedy, but even some lines 
 by way of opening. Speaking of Paradise Lost, and of the 
 author's original intention that it should be a tragedy, Milton's 
 nephew, Edward Phillips, tells us in his Memoir of his uncle 
 (1694) : ' In the Fourth Book of the Poem there are six [ten?] 
 verses, which, several years before the Poem was begun, were 
 shown to me, and some others, as designed for the very begin- 
 ning of the said tragedy.' The verses referred to by Phillips 
 are those (P. L. iv. 32-41) that now form part of Satan's speech 
 on first standing on the Earth, and beholding, among the 
 glories of the newly-created World, the Sun in his full splen- 
 dor in the Heavens : — 
 
 O thou that, Avith surpassing glory crowned, 
 Look'st from thy sole dominion like the god 
 Of this new World — at whose sight all the stars 
 Hide their diminished heads— to thee I call, 
 But with no friendly voice, and add thy name, 
 O Sun, to tell thee how I hate thy beams, 
 That bring to my remembrance from what state 
 
INTE OD UCTION. 23 
 
 I fell, how glorious once above thy sphere, 
 Till pride and worse ambition threw me down, 
 Warring in Heaven against Heaven's matchless King ! 
 
 Phillips's words * several years before the Poem was begun' 
 would not, by themselves, fix the date at which he had seen 
 these lines. But in Aubrey's earlier Memoir of Milton (1680), 
 containing information which Aubrey had derived from Phil- 
 lips, this passage occurs : i In the 4th book of Paradise Lost 
 there are about 6 verses of Satan's exclamation to the Sun 
 w ch Mr. E. Phi. remembers, about 15 or 16 years before ever 
 his poem was thought of; w ch verses were intended for the 
 beginning of a tragcedie, w ch he had design'd, but was diverted 
 from it by other besinesse.' Here we have indirectly Phil- 
 lips's own authority that he had read the verses in question 
 at a date which we shall presently see reason to fix at 1642. 
 He was then a pupil of his uncle, and living with him in his 
 house in Aldersgate Street. 
 
 Alas ! it was not < for some few years ' only, as Milton had 
 thought in 1641, that the execution of the great work so 
 solemnly then promised had to be postponed. For a longer 
 time than he had expected England remained in a condition 
 in which he did not think it right, even had it been possible, 
 that men like him should be writing poems. Only towards 
 the end of Cromwell's Protectorate, when Milton had reached 
 his fiftieth year, and had been for five or six years totally 
 blind, does he seem to have been in circumstances to resume 
 effectually the design to which he had pledged himself seven- 
 teen years before. By that time, however, there was no longer 
 any doubt as to the theme he would choose. All the other 
 themes once entertained had faded more or less into the back- 
 ground of memory, and paradise lost stood out, bold, clear, 
 and without competitor. Nay more, the dramatic form, for 
 
24 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 which, when the subject first occurred to him, -Milton had felt 
 a preference, had been now abandoned, and it had been re- 
 solved that the poem should be an epic. He began this epic 
 in earnest almost certainly before Cromwell was dead — 
 ' about 2 yeares before the K[ing] came in,' says Aubrey on 
 Phillips's authority; that is, in 1658, when, notwithstanding 
 his blindness, he was still in official attendance on Cromwell 
 at Whitehall as his Latin Secretary, and writing occasional 
 letters, in Cromwell's name, to foreign states and princes. . . . 
 
 As the Great Plague was then [1665] raging in London, 
 Milton had removed from his house in Artillery Walk to a 
 cottage at Chalfont-St.-Giles, in Buckinghamshire, which had 
 been taken for him, at his request, by Thomas Ellwood, a 
 young Quaker, whose acquaintance with him had begun a 
 year or two before in Jewin Street. Visiting Milton here as 
 soon as circumstances would permit, Ellwood was received in 
 a manner of which he has left an account in his Autobiog- 
 raphy. < After some common discourses,' he says, < had passed 
 between us, he called for a manuscript of his ; which, being 
 brought, he delivered to me, bidding me take it home with 
 me and read it at my leisure, and, when I had so done, return 
 it to him with my judgment thereupon. When I came home, 
 and had set myself to read it, I found it was that excellent 
 poem which he entituled Paradise Lost.' 
 
 The anecdote proves the existence of at least one, and most 
 probably of more than one, complete copy in the autumn of 
 1065 — which may, accordingly, be taken as the date when 
 the poem was considered ready for press. The delay of publi- 
 cation till two years after that date is easily accounted for. 
 It was not, says Ellwood, till ' the sickness was over, and the 
 city well cleansed, and become safely habitable again,' that 
 Milton returned to his house in Artillery Walk ; then, still 
 
INTR OD UCTION. 25 
 
 farther paralyzing business of all sorts, came the Great Fire 
 of September, 1666 ; and there were difficulties, as we have 
 seen, about the licensing of a poem by a person of Milton's 
 political antecedents and principles. 
 
 Whether the time spent by Milton in the composition of 
 Paradise Lost was five years (1658-1663), or seven or eight 
 years (1658-1665), it is certain that he bestowed on the work 
 all that care and labor which, on his first contemplation of 
 such a work in his earlier manhood, he had declared would be 
 necessary. The < industrious and select reading,' which he 
 had then spoken of as one of the many requisites, had not 
 been omitted. Whatever else Paradise Lost may be, it is 
 certainly one of the most learned poems in the world. In 
 thinking of it in this character we are to remember, first of 
 all, that, ere his blindness had befallen him (1652), Milton's 
 mind was stored with an amount of various and exact learn- 
 ing such as few other men of his age possessed ; so that, had 
 he ceased then to acquire more, he would have still carried in 
 his memory an enormous resource of material out of which to 
 build up the body of his poem. But he did not, after his 
 blindness, cease to add to his knowledge by reading. At the 
 very time when he was engaged on his Paradise Lost, he 
 had, as his nephew Phillips informs us, several other great 
 undertakings in progress of a different character, for which 
 daily reading and research were necessary, even if they could 
 have been dispensed with for the poem — to wit, the construc- 
 tion of a Body of Divinity from the Scriptures, the completion 
 of a History of England, and the collection of materials for a 
 Thesaurus, or Dictionary, of the Latin tongue. Laboriously 
 every day, with a due division of his time from early morning, 
 he pursued these tasks, by a systematic use of assistants whom 
 he kept about him. As at the time when the composition 
 
26 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 of Paradise Lost was begun the eldest daughter, Anne, was 
 but twelve years of age, the second, Mary, but ten, and the 
 youngest, Deborah, but six, and as when the poem was cer- 
 tainly finished their ages were about eighteen, sixteen, and 
 twelve respectively, their services as readers during its compo- 
 sition can have been but partial. But, whether with them as 
 his readers, or with young men and grown-up friends perform- 
 ing the part for hire or love, he was able to avail himself for 
 his poem, as well as for the drier works on which he was 
 simultaneously engaged, of any help which books could give. 
 He may, accordingly, at this time, if not before, have made 
 himself acquainted with some of those poems and other works, 
 Italian and Latin, in which his subject, or some portion of it, 
 had been previously treated. He was very likely to do so, and 
 to take any hint he could get. 
 
 It would not be difficult to prove, at any rate, that, among 
 the < select readings ' engaged in specially for the purposes 
 of Paradise Lost while it was in progress, must have been 
 readings in certain books of geography and Eastern travel, 
 and in certain Rabbinical, early Christian, and mediaeval com- 
 mentators on the subjects of Paradise, the Angels, and the 
 Fall. Nothing is more striking in the poem, nothing more 
 touching, than the frequency, and, on the whole, wonderful 
 accuracy, of its references to maps ; and, whatever wealth of 
 geographical information Milton may have carried with him 
 into his blindness, there are evidences, I think, that he must 
 have refreshed his recollections of this kind by the eyes of 
 others, and perhaps by their guidance of his finger, after his 
 sight was gone. In short, for the Paradise Lost, as well as 
 for the prose labors carried on along with it, there must have 
 been abundance of reading ; and, remembering to what a stock 
 of prior learning, possessed before his blindness, all such incre- 
 
INTR OB UCTION. 27 
 
 ments were added, we need have no wonder at the appearance 
 now presented by the poem. To say merely that it is a most 
 learned poem — the poem of a mind full of miscellaneous lore 
 wherewith its grand imagination might work — is not enough. 
 Original as it is, original in its entire conception, and in every 
 portion and passage, the poem is yet full of flakes — we can 
 express it no otherwise — full of flakes from all that is great- 
 est in preceding literature, ancient or modern. This is what 
 all the commentators have observed, and what their labors 
 in collecting parallel passages from other poets and prose- 
 writers have served more and more to illustrate. Such labors 
 have been overdone ; but they have proved incontestably the 
 tenacity of Milton's memory. In the first place, Paradise 
 Lost is permeated from beginning to end with citations from 
 the Bible. Milton must have almost had the Bible by heart ; 
 and, besides that some passages of his poem, where he is keep- 
 ing close to the Bible as his authority, are avowedly coagu- 
 lations of Scriptural texts, it is possible again and again, 
 throughout the rest, to detect the flash, through his noblest 
 language, of some suggestion from the Psalms, the Prophets, 
 the Gospels, or the Apocalypse. So, though in a less degree, 
 with Homer, the Greek tragedians (Euripides was a special 
 favorite of his), Plato, Demosthenes, and the Greek classics 
 generally, and with Lucretius, Cicero, Virgil, Horace, Ovid, 
 Juvenal, Persius, and the other Latins. So with the Italian 
 writers whom he knew so well — Dante, Petrarch, Ariosto, 
 Tasso, and others now less remembered. So with modern 
 Latinists of various European countries, still less recoverable. 
 Finally, so with the whole series of preceding English poets, 
 particularly Spenser, Shakespeare, and some of the minor 
 Spenserians of the reigns of James and Charles I., not forget- 
 ting that uncouth popular favorite of his boyhood, Sylvester's 
 
28 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Du Bartas. In connexion with all which, or with any particu- 
 larly striking instance of the use by Milton of a thought or a 
 phrase from previous authors, let the reader remember his 
 own definition of plagiarism, given in his EiKovoKAacn-tys. 
 1 Such kind of borrowing as this,' he there says, ' if it be not 
 bettered by the borrower, among good authors is accounted 
 plagiary.' And again, of quotations from the Bible, — < It 
 is not hard for any man who hath a Bible in his hands to 
 borrow good words and holy sayings in abundance ; but to 
 make them his own is a work of grace only from above.' 
 
 How was the poem, as it grew in Milton's mind, committed 
 to paper? It was dictated by parcels of ten, twenty, thirty, 
 or more lines at a time. Even before his blindness, Milton 
 had made use of amanuenses ; but, after his blindness, he 
 scarcely wrote at all with his own hand. It would be difficult 
 to produce a genuine autograph of his of later date than 1652. 
 On this matter Phillips is again our most precise authority. 
 1 There is another very remarkable passage,' he says, < in the 
 composure of this poem, which I have a particular occasion 
 to remember; for, whereas I had the perusal of it from the 
 very beginning, for some years as I went from time to time 
 to visit him, in a parcel of ten, twenty, or thirty verses at a 
 time — which, being written by whatever hand came next, 
 might possibly want correction as to the orthography and 
 pointing — having, as the summer came on, not been shewed 
 any for a considerable while, and desiring the reason thereof, 
 was answered, that his verse never happily flowed but from 
 the Autumnal Equinoctial to the Vernal [i.e. from the end 
 of September to the end of March], and that whatever he 
 attempted [at other times] was never to his satisfaction, 
 though he exerted his fancy never so much ; so that, in all 
 
INTRODUCTION. 29 
 
 the years he was about this poem, he may be said to have 
 spent but half his time therein.' The reader ought to correct 
 by this extract, taken in connexion with information already 
 given as to Milton's domestic circumstances, the impressions 
 he may have received from flummery pictures representing 
 the blind poet in a rapt attitude dictating Paradise Lost to his 
 attentive and revering daughters. His eldest daughter, Anne, 
 could not write ; and though the other two could write, and 
 may occasionally, when the poem was in progress, have acted 
 as his amanuenses, their ages exclude the idea of their having 
 been his chief assistants in this capacity — while w r e also know 
 that the poor motherless girls had grown up in circumstances 
 to make them regard the services they were required to per- 
 form for their father as less a duty than a trouble. On the 
 whole, Phillips's words suggest what is probably the right 
 notion — that Milton dictated his poem in small portions at 
 a time, chiefly within-doors, and more in winter than in 
 summer, to any one that chanced to be about him. Some- 
 times it may have been one of his daughters ; sometimes, 
 latterly, when the poem was nearly complete, it may have been 
 his third wife ; frequently it may have been one of the friends 
 or youths who statedly read to him. From Phillips's state- 
 ment it is also clear that he assisted Milton in revising the 
 gathered scraps of MS. from time to time. Finally, when 
 all was completed, a clean copy, or clean copies, must have 
 been made by some practised scribe. One such clean copy 
 was that sent to the licenser, a portion of which, as has been 
 mentioned, still exists. The hand in that manuscript has not 
 been identified. 
 
30 INTR OD UCTION. 
 
 IV. MILTON AS VIEWED BY OTHER POETS. 
 LONGFELLOW. 
 
 SONNET ON MILTON. 
 
 I pace the sounding sea-beach and behold 
 How the voluminous billows roll and run, 
 Upheaving and subsiding, while the sun 
 Shines through their sleeted emerald far unrolled, 
 And the ninth wave, slow gathering fold by fold 
 All its loose-flowing garments into one, 
 Plunges upon the shore, and floods the dun 
 Pale reach of sands, and changes them to gold. 
 So in majestic cadence rise and fall 
 The mighty undulations of thy song, 
 O sightless bard, England's Mseonides! 
 And ever and anon, high over all 
 Uplifted, a ninth wave superb and strong, 
 Floods all the soul with its melodious seas. 
 
 LOWELL. 
 
 FROM THE ESSAY ON MILTON. 
 
 The truth is, that Milton was a harmonist rather than a 
 melodist. There are, no doubt, some exquisite melodies (like 
 the Sabrina Fair) among his earlier poems, as could hardly 
 fail to be the case in an age which produced or trained the 
 authors of our best English glees, as ravishing in their in- 
 stinctive felicity as the songs of our dramatists, but he also 
 showed from the first that larger style which was to be his 
 peculiar distinction. The strain heard in the Nativity Ode, in 
 the Solemn Music, and in Lycidas, is of a higher mood, as 
 regards metrical construction, than anything that had thrilled 
 the English ear before, giving no uncertain augury of him 
 
INTRODUCTION. 31 
 
 who was to show what sonorous metal lay silent till he 
 touched the keys in the epical organ-pipes of our various lan- 
 guages, that have never since felt the strain of such prevail- 
 ing breath. It was in the larger movements of metre that 
 Milton was great and original. I have spoken elsewhere of 
 Spenser's fondness for dilation as respects thoughts and 
 images. In Milton it extends to the language also, and often 
 to the single words of which a period is composed. He loved 
 phrases of towering port, in which every member dilated 
 stands like Teneriffe or Atlas. In those poems and passages 
 that stamp him great, the verses do not dance interweaving 
 to soft Lydian airs, but march rather with resounding tread 
 and clang of martial music. . . . 
 
 In reading Paradise Lost one has a feeling of vastness. 
 You float under an illimitable sky, brimmed with sunshine or 
 hung with constellations ; the abysses of space are about you : 
 you hear the cadenced surges of an unseen ocean : thunders 
 mutter round the horizon : and if the scene change, it is with 
 an elemental movement like the shifting of mighty winds. 
 His imagination seldom condenses, like Shakespeare's, in the 
 kindling flash of a single epithet, but loves better to diffuse 
 itself. Witness his descriptions, wherein he seems to circle 
 like an eagle bathing in the blue streams of air, controlling 
 with his eye broad sweeps of champaign or of sea, and rarely 
 fulmining in the sudden swoop of intenser expression. He 
 was fonder of the vague, perhaps I should rather say the in- 
 definite, where more is meant than meets the ear, than any 
 other of our poets. He loved epithets (like old and far) that 
 suggest great reaches, whether of space or time. This bias 
 shows itself already in his earlier poems, as where he hears 
 
 The far-off curfew sound 
 Over some wide-watered shore, 
 
3 2 INTR 01) UCTION. 
 
 or where he fancies the shores and sounding seas washing 
 Lycidas far away; but it reaches its climax in the Paradise 
 Lost. He produces his effects by dilating our imaginations 
 with an impalpable hint rather than by concentrating them 
 upon too precise particulars. Thus in a famous comparison 
 of his, the fleet has no definite port, but plies stemming 
 nightly toward the pole in a wide ocean of conjecture. He 
 generalizes always instead of specifying, — the true secret of 
 the ideal treatment in which he is without peer, and, though 
 everywhere grandiose, he is never turgid. . . . Milton . . . 
 is too wise to hamper himself with any statement for which 
 he can be brought to book, but wraps himself in a mist of 
 looming indefiniteness : — 
 
 He called so loud that all the hollow deep 
 Of Hell resounded, 
 
 thus amplifying more nobly by abstention from his usual 
 method of prolonged evolution. No caverns, however spa- 
 cious, will serve his turn, because they have limits. He could 
 practise this self-denial when his artistic sense found it need- 
 ful, whether for variety of verse or for the greater intensity 
 of effect to be gained by abruptness. His more elaborate 
 passages have the multitudinous roll of thunder, dying away 
 to gather a sullen force again from its own reverberations, 
 but he knew that the attention is recalled and arrested by 
 those claps that stop short without echo and leave us listen- 
 ing. There are no such vistas and avenues of verse as his. 
 In reading the Paradise Lost one has a feeling of spaciousness 
 such as no other poet gives. Milton's respect for himself and 
 for his own mind rises well nigh to veneration. He prepares 
 the way for his thought, and spreads on the ground before 
 the sacred feet of his verse tapestries inwoven with figures of 
 
INTRODUCTION. 33 
 
 mythology and romance. There is no such unfailing dignity 
 as his. . . . His sustained strength is especially felt in his 
 beginnings. He seems always to start full-sail ; the wind and 
 tide always serve ; there is never any fluttering of the can- 
 vas. . . . And the poem never becomes incoherent ; we feel 
 all through it, as in the symphonies of Beethoven, a great con- 
 trolling reason in whose safe-conduct we trust implicitly. . . . 
 
 If there is one thing more striking than another in this 
 poet, it is that his great and original imagination was almost 
 wholly nourished by books, perhaps I should rather say set 
 in motion by them. It is wonderful how, from the most 
 withered and juiceless hint gathered in his reading, his grand 
 images rise like an exhalation ; how from the most battered 
 old lamp caught in that huge drag-net with which he swept 
 the waters of learning, he could conjure a tall genius to build 
 his palaces. Whatever he touches swells and towers. That 
 wonderful passage in Comus of the airy tongues, perhaps 
 the most imaginative in suggestion he ever wrote, was con- 
 jured out of a dry sentence in Purchas's abstract of Marco 
 Polo. Such examples help us to understand the poet. When 
 I find that Sir Thomas Browne had said before Milton, that 
 Adam ' was the wisest of all men since,'' I am glad to find 
 this link between the most profound and the most stately 
 imagination of that age. Such parallels sometimes give a 
 hint also of the historical development of our poetry, of its 
 apostolical succession, so to speak. Every one has noticed 
 Milton's fondness of sonorous proper names, which have not 
 only an acquired imaginative value by association, and so 
 serve to awaken our poetic sensibilities, but have likewise 
 a merely musical significance. This he probably caught from 
 Marlowe, traces of whom are frequent in him. . . . 
 
 Milton cannot certainly be taxed with any partiality for 
 
34 INTR OD UCTION. 
 
 low words. He rather loved them tall, as the Prussian King- 
 loved men to be six feet high in their stockings, and fit to 
 go into the grenadiers. He loved them as much for their 
 music as for their meaning, — perhaps more. His style, there- 
 fore, when it has to deal with commoner things, is apt to grow 
 a little cumbrous and unwieldy. A Persian poet says that 
 when the owl would boast, he boasts of catching mice at the 
 edge of a hole. Shakespeare would have understood this. 
 Milton would have made him talk like an eagle. His influence 
 is not to be left out of account as partially contributing to 
 that decline toward poetic diction which was already begin- 
 ning ere he died. If it would not be fair to say that he is 
 the most artistic, he may be called in the highest sense the 
 most scientific of our poets. If to Spenser younger poets 
 have gone to be sung-to, they have sat at the feet of Milton 
 to be taught. . . . 
 
 It results from the almost scornful withdrawal of Milton 
 into the fortress of his absolute personality that no great poet 
 is so uniformly self-conscious as he. We should say of Shake- 
 speare that he had the power of transforming himself into 
 everything ; of Milton, that he had that of transforming every- 
 thing into himself. 
 
 LAND OR. 
 
 FROM THE IMAGINARY CONVERSATIONS (SOUTHEY AND LANDOR). 
 
 Both in epic and dramatic poetry, it is action, and not 
 moral, that is first demanded. The feelings and exploits of 
 the principal agent should excite the principal interest. The 
 two greatest of human compositions are here defective — 
 I mean the Iliad and Paradise Lost. Agamemnon is leader 
 of the confederate Greeks before Troy, to avenge the cause 
 of Menelaus ; yet not only Achilles and Diomed on his 
 
IN TROD UCTION. 35 
 
 side, but Hector and Sarpedon on the opposite, interest us 
 more than the 'king of men,' the avenger, or than his 
 brother, the injured prince, about whom they all are fighting. 
 In the Paradise Lost no principal character seems to have 
 been intended. There is neither truth nor wit, however, in 
 saying that Satan is hero of the piece, unless, as is usually the 
 case in human life, he is the greatest hero who gives the 
 widest sway to the worst passions. It is Adam who acts and 
 suffers most, and on whom the consequences have most influ- 
 ence. This constitutes him the main character ; although Eve 
 is the more interesting, Satan the more energetic, and on 
 whom the greater force of poetry is displayed. The Creator 
 and his angels are quite secondary. . . . 
 
 Such stupendous genius, so much fancy, so much eloquence, 
 so much vigor of intellect, never were united as in Paradise 
 Lost. Yet it is neither so correct nor so varied as the 
 Iliad, nor, however important the action, so interesting. The 
 moral itself is the reason why it wearies even those who 
 insist on the necessity of it. Founded on an event believed 
 by nearly all nations, certainly by all who read the poem, 
 it lays down a principle which concerns every man's welfare, 
 and a fact which every man's experience confirms, - — that 
 great and irremediable misery may arise from apparently 
 small offences. But will any one say that, in a poetical view, 
 our certainty of moral truth in this position is an equivalent 
 for the uncertainty which of the agents is what critics call the 
 hero of the piece ? . . . 
 
 After I have been reading the Paradise Lost, I can take 
 up no other poet with satisfaction. I seem to have left the 
 music of Handel for the music of the streets, or at best for 
 drums and fifes. Although in Shakespeare there are occa- 
 sional bursts of harmony no less sublime, yet, if there were 
 
36 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 many such in continuation, it would be hurtful, not only in 
 comedy, but also in tragedy. The greater part should be equable 
 and conversational. For, if the excitement were the same at 
 the beginning, the middle, and the end; if consequently (as 
 must be the case) the language and versification were equally 
 elevated throughout ; any long poem would be a bad one, and 
 worst of all, a drama. In our English heroic verse, such as 
 Milton has composed it, there is a much greater variety of 
 feet, of movement, of musical notes and bars, than in the 
 Greek heroic ; and the final sounds are incomparably more 
 diversified. My predilection in youth was on the side of 
 Homer ; for I had read the Iliad twice, and the Odyssea 
 once, before the Paradise Lost. Averse as I am to every 
 thing relating to theology, and especially to the view of it 
 thrown open by this poem, I recur to it incessantly as the 
 noblest specimen in the world of eloquence, harmony, and 
 genius. . . . 
 
 A rib of Shakespeare would have made a Milton; the 
 same portion of Milton, all poets born ever since. 
 
 ARNOLD. 
 
 FROM THE ESSAY ON MILTON. 
 
 If to our English race an inadequate sense for perfection of 
 work is a real danger, if the discipline of respect for a high and 
 flawless excellence is peculiarly needed by us, Milton is of all 
 our gifted men the best lesson, the most salutary influence. 
 In the sure and flawless perfection of his rhythm and diction 
 he is as admirable as Virgil and Dante, and in this respect he 
 is unique amongst us. No one else in English literature and 
 art possesses the like distinction. 
 
 Thomson, Cowper, Wordsworth, all of them good poets who 
 
INTRODUCTION. 37 
 
 have studied Milton, followed Milton, adopted his form, fail in 
 their diction and rhythm if we try them by that high standard 
 of excellence maintained by Milton constantly. From style 
 really high and pure Milton never departs ; their departures 
 from it are frequent. 
 
 Shakespeare is divinely strong, rich, and attractive. But 
 sureness of perfect style Shakespeare himself does not possess. 
 I have heard a politician express wonder at the treasures of 
 political wisdom in a celebrated scene of Troilus and Cres- 
 sida ; for my part I am at least equally moved to wonder at 
 the fantastic and false diction in which Shakespeare has 
 in that scene clothed them. Milton, from one end of Para- 
 dise Lost to the other, is in his diction and rhythm constantly 
 a great artist in the great style. Whatever may be said as to 
 the subject of his poem, as to the conditions under which 
 he received his subject and treated it, that praise, at any rate, 
 is assured to him. 
 
 For the rest, justice is not at present done, in my opinion, 
 to Milton's management of the inevitable matter of a Puritan 
 epic, a matter full of difficulties for a poet. Justice is not 
 done to the architectonics, as Goethe would have called them, 
 of Paradise Lost ; in these, too, the power of Milton's art 
 is remarkable. But this may be a proposition which requires 
 discussion and development for establishing it, and they are 
 impossible on an occasion like the present. 
 
 That Milton, of all our English race, is by his diction and 
 rhythm the one artist in the great style whom we have ; this I 
 take as requiring no discussion, this I take as certain. 
 
 The mighty power of poetry and art is generally admitted. 
 But where the soul of this power, of this power at its best, 
 chiefly resides, very many of us fail to see. It resides chiefly 
 in the refining and elevation wrought in us by the high and 
 
38 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 rare excellence of the great style. We may feel the effect 
 without being able to give ourselves clear account of its cause, 
 but the thing is so. Now, no race needs the influences men- 
 tioned, the influences of refining and elevation, more than 
 ours ; and in poetry and art our grand source for them is 
 Milton. 
 
 To what does he owe this supreme distinction ? To nature 
 first and foremost, to that bent of nature for inequality which 
 to the worshippers of the average man is so unacceptable ; to 
 a gift, a divine favor. < The older one grows,' says Goethe, 
 'the more one prizes natural gifts, because by no possibility 
 can they be procured and stuck on.' Nature formed Milton 
 to be a great poet. But what other poet has shown so sincere 
 a sense of the grandeur of his vocation, and a moral effort so 
 constant and sublime to make and keep himself worthy of it ? 
 The Milton of religious and political controversy, and perhaps 
 of domestic life also, is not seldom disfigured by want of amen- 
 ity, by acerbity. The Milton of poetry, on the other hand, is 
 one of those great men < who are modest ' — to quote a fine re- 
 mark of Leopardi, that gifted and stricken young Italian, who 
 in his sense for poetic style is worthy to be named with Dante 
 and Milton — 'who are modest, because they continually com- 
 pare themselves, not with other men, but with that idea of the 
 perfect which they have before their mind.' The Milton of 
 poetry is the man, in his own magnificent phrase, of < devout 
 prayer to that Eternal Spirit that can enrich with all utter- 
 ance and knowledge, and sends out his Seraphim with the hal- 
 lowed fire of his altar, to touch and purify the lips of whom 
 he pleases.' And finally, the Milton of poetry is, in his own 
 words again, the man of < industrious and select reading.' 
 Continually he lived in companionship with high and rare ex- 
 cellence, with the great Hebrew poets and prophets, with the 
 
INTB OB UCTION. 39 
 
 great poets of Greece and Rome. The Hebrew compositions 
 were not in verse, and can be not inadequately represented by 
 the grand, measured prose of our English Bible. The verse of 
 the poets of Greece and Rome no translation can adequately 
 reproduce. Prose cannot have the power of verse ; verse-trans- 
 lation may give whatever of charm is in the soul and talent 
 of the translator himself, but never the specific charm of the 
 verse and poet translated. In our race are thousands of read- 
 ers, presently there will be millions, who know not a word of 
 Greek or Latin, and will never learn those languages. If this 
 host of readers are ever to gain any sense of the power and 
 charm of the great poets of antiquity, their way to gain it is 
 not through translations of the ancients, but through the ori- 
 ginal poetry of Milton, who has the like power and charm, 
 because he has the like great style. 
 
 Through Milton they may gain it, for, in conclusion, Milton 
 is English; this master in the great style of the ancients is 
 English. Virgil, whom Milton loved and honored, has at the 
 end of the iEneid a noble passage, where Juno, seeing the 
 defeat of Turnus and the Italians imminent, the victory of 
 the Trojan invaders assured, entreats Jupiter that Italy may 
 nevertheless survive and be herself still, may retain her own 
 mind, manners, and language, and not adopt those of the con- 
 queror. 
 
 Sit Latium, sint Albani per secula reges. 
 
 Jupiter grants the prayer; he promises perpetuity and the 
 future to Italy — Italy reinforced by whatever virtue the Tro- 
 jan race has, but Italy, not Troy. This we may take as a sort 
 of parable suiting ourselves. All the Anglo-Saxon contagion, 
 all the flood of Anglo-Saxon commonness, beats vainly against 
 the great style but cannot shake it, and has to accept its tri- 
 umph. But it triumphs in Milton, in one of our own race, 
 
40 INTR OD UCTION. 
 
 tongue, faith, and morals. Milton has made the great style no 
 longer an exotic here ; he has made it an inmate amongst us, 
 a leaven, and a power. Nevertheless he, and his hearers on 
 both sides of the Atlantic, are English, and will remain Eng- 
 lish— 
 
 Sermonem Ausonii patrium moresque tenetmnt. 
 
 The English race overspreads the world, and at the same 
 time the ideal of an excellence the most high and the most 
 rare abides a possession with it for ever. 
 
 EMERSOX. 
 FROM THE ESSAY ON MILTON. 
 
 It is the prerogative of this great man to stand at this hour 
 foremost of all men in literary history, and so (shall we not 
 say?) of all men, in the power to inspire. Virtue goes out of him 
 into others. Leaving out of view the pretensions of our contem- 
 poraries (always an incalculable influence), we think no man 
 can be named whose mind still acts on the cultivated intellect 
 of England and America with an energy comparable to that of 
 Milton. As a poet, Shakespeare undoubtedly transcends, and 
 far surpasses him in his popularity with foreign nations ; but 
 Shakespeare is a voice merely ; who and what he was that sang, 
 that sings, we know not. Milton stands erect, commanding, 
 still visible as a man among men, and reads the laws of the 
 moral sentiment to the new-born race. There is something 
 pleasing in the affection with which we can regard a man who 
 died a hundred and sixty [now, 1896, two hundred and twenty- 
 two] years ago in the other hemisphere, who, in respect to per- 
 sonal relations, is to us as the wind, yet by an influence purely 
 spiritual makes us jealous for his fame as for that of a near 
 friend. He is identified in the mind with all select and holy 
 
INTRODUCTION. 41 
 
 images, with the supreme interests of the human race. If 
 hereby we attain any more precision, we proceed to say that 
 we think no man in these later ages, and few men ever, pos- 
 sessed so great a conception of the manly character. Better 
 than any other he has discharged the office of every great man, 
 namely, to raise the idea of Man in the minds of his contem- 
 poraries and of posterity, — to draw after nature a life of man, 
 exhibiting such a composition of grace, of strength, and of 
 virtue, as poet had not described nor hero lived. Human na- 
 ture in these ages is indebted to him for its best portrait. 
 Many philosophers in England, France, and Germany have 
 formerly dedicated their study to this problem ; and we think 
 it impossible to recall one in those countries who communi- 
 cates the same vibration of hope, of self-reverence, of piety, of 
 delight in beauty, which the name of Milton awakens. . . . 
 
 His habits of living were austere. He was abstemious in 
 diet, chaste, an early riser, and industrious. He tells us, in 
 a Latin poem, that the lyrist may indulge in wine and in a 
 freer life ; but that he who would write an epic to the nations 
 must eat beans and drink water. Yet in his severity is no 
 grimace or effort. He serves from love, not from fear. He 
 is innocent and exact, because his taste was so pure and deli- 
 cate. He acknowledges to his friend Diodati, at the'age of 
 twenty-one, that he is enamored, if any was, of moral perfec- 
 tion : ' For, whatever the Deity may have bestowed upon me 
 in other respects, he has certainly inspired me, if any ever 
 were inspired, with a passion for the good and fair. Nor did 
 Ceres, according to the fable, ever seek her daughter Proser- 
 pine with such unceasing solicitude as I have sought this iov 
 xaXov ld£av, this perfect model of the beautiful in all the 
 forms and appearances of things.' . . . 
 
 Was there not a fitness in the undertaking of such a person 
 
42 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 to write a poem on the subject of Adam, the first man By 
 his sympathy with all nature ; by the proportion of his powers ; 
 by great knowledge, and by religion, he would reascend to the 
 height from which our nature is supposed to have descended. 
 From a just knowledge of what man should be, he described 
 what he was. He beheld him as he walked in Eden. . . . 
 And the soul of this divine creature is excellent as his form. 
 The tone of his thought and passion is as healthful, as even, 
 and as vigorous, as befits the new and perfect model of a race 
 of gods. 
 
 The perception we have attributed to Milton, of a purer 
 ideal of humanity, modifies his poetic genius. The man is 
 paramount to the poet. His fancy is never transcendent, ex- 
 travagant ; but, as Bacon's imagination was said to be < the 
 noblest that ever contented itself to minister to the under- 
 standing,' so Milton's ministers to the character. Milton's 
 sublimest song, bursting into heaven with its peals of melo- 
 dious thunder, is the voice of Milton still. Indeed, through- 
 out his poems, one may see under a thin veil, the opinions, the 
 feelings, even the incidents of the poet's life, still reappearing. 
 . . . The most affecting passages in Paradise Lost are personal 
 allusions ; and, when we are fairly in Eden, Adam and Milton 
 are often difficult to be separated. . . . The genius and office 
 of Milton were ... to ascend by the aids of his learning and 
 his religion — by an equal perception, that is, of the past and 
 the future — to a higher insight and more lively delineation 
 of the heroic life of man. This was his poem ; whereof all his 
 indignant pamphlets and all his soaring verses are only single 
 cantos or detached stanzas. 
 
INTR OD UCTION. 43 
 
 WORDSWORTH. 
 
 FROM THE PREFACE TO THE 1815 EDITION OF HIS POEMS. 
 
 The grand storehouses of enthusiastic and meditative im- 
 agination, as contradistinguished from human and dramatic 
 imagination, are the prophetic and lyrical parts of the Holy 
 Scriptures, and the works of Milton ; to which I cannot for- 
 bear to add those of Spenser. I select these writers in pref- 
 erence to those of ancient Greece and Rome, because the 
 anthropomorphism of the Pagan religion subjected the minds 
 of the greatest poets in those countries too much to the bon- 
 dage of definite form; from which the Hebrews were pre- 
 served by their abhorrence of idolatry. This abhorrence was 
 almost as strong in our great epic Poet, both from circum- 
 stances of his life, and from the constitution of his mind. 
 However indued the surface might be with classical literature, 
 he was a Hebrew in soul ; and all things tended in him toward 
 the sublime. 
 
 SONNET ON MILTON. 
 
 Milton! thou should' st be living at this hour ; 
 
 England hath need of thee ; she is a fen 
 
 Of stagnant waters ; altar, sword, and pen, 
 
 Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, 
 
 Have forfeited their ancient English dower 
 
 Of inward happiness. We are selfish men ; 
 
 Oh ! raise us up, return to us again ; 
 
 And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power. 
 
 Thy soul was like a Star, and dwelt apart ; 
 
 Thou hadst a voice whose sound was like the sea ; 
 
 Pure as the naked heavens, majestic, free, 
 
 So didst thou travel on life's common way, 
 
 In cheerful godliness ; and yet thy heart 
 
 The lowliest duties on herself did lay. 
 
44 
 
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48 INTR OD UCTION. 
 
 VI. AIDS TO THE STUDY OF MILTON. 
 
 Only a few of the more prominent books on Milton can 
 here be mentioned. 
 
 i. Lives. 
 
 Brooke, Milton, Classical Writers Series. (Appleton.) 
 Pattison, Milton, English Men of Letters Series. (Harper.) 
 Garnett, John Milton, Great Writers Series. (Scribner.) 
 Johnson, Life of Milton, with notes by C. H. Frith. (Mac- 
 
 millan.) 
 Masson, Life of John Milton, 6 vols. (Macmillan.) 
 
 The Lives by Brooke, Pattison, and Garnett are cheap and 
 excellent. That by Garnett contains an extensive bibliography. 
 Johnson's has chiefly an historical interest. Masson's is the 
 authoritative work ; notwithstanding the somewhat unfavor- 
 able review by Lowell, it is indispensable to the scholar, 
 though too diffuse and circumstantial for ordinary use. 
 
 2. Editions. 
 
 Poetical Works, edited by Masson. (Macmillan.) 
 Poetical Works, Globe edition, edited by Masson. (Mac- 
 millan.) 
 Prose Works, edited by St. John, Bohn edition. (Macmillan.) 
 Treasures from Milton's Prose. (Ticknor & Fields.) 
 English Prose Writings, edited by H. Morley. (Routledge.) 
 
 The Globe edition of the poetry should be in the hands of 
 every student, and the present work assumes that it is at least 
 accessible to all. The other editions by Masson are each in 
 three volumes, in two forms, at $5.00 and $10.00 respectively. 
 
 The Treasures from Milton's Prose may now be somewhat 
 difficult to obtain. It is an interesting book, and no student 
 of Milton can afford to be ignorant of so much of the author's 
 prose as it contains. Morley's selections will answer, if the 
 Treasures cannot be obtained. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 49 
 
 3. Essays. 
 
 Besides those from which extracts are made in the Intro- 
 duction, Addison's Spectator papers (edited by Cook; Ginn 
 & Co.) and Macaulay's essay may be read with advantage. 
 References to many others will be found in the Bibliography 
 appended to Garnett's Life. 
 
 4. Lexicon. 
 
 Lock wood, Lexicon to the Poetical Works. In prepai-ation. 
 (Macrnillan.) 
 
 5. Concordance. 
 
 Bradshaw, Concordance to the Poetical Works. (Macrnillan.) 
 
 6. History of the Times. 
 
 Green, Short History of the English People. 
 Gardiner, The Puritan Revolution, Epochs of Modern History 
 Series. (Longman.) 
 
THE VERSE. 
 
 The measure is English heroic verse without rime, as 
 that of Homer in Greek, and of Virgil in Latin — rime being 
 no necessary adjunct or true ornament of poem or good verse, 
 in longer works especially, but the invention of a barbarous 
 age to set off wretched matter and lame metre ; graced indeed 
 since by the use of some famous modern poets, carried away 
 by custom, but much .to their own vexation, hindrance, and 
 constraint, to express many things otherwise, and for the most 
 part worse, than else they would have expressed them. Not 
 without cause, therefore, some both Italian and Spanish poets 
 of prime note have rejected rime both in longer and shorter 
 works, as have also, long since, our best English tragedies, as 
 a thing of itself to all judicious ears trivial and of no true 
 musical delight ; which consists only in apt numbers, fit quan- 
 tity of syllables, and the sense variously drawn out from one 
 verse into another, not in the jingling sound of like endings — 
 a fault avoided by the learned ancients both in poetry and all 
 good oratory. This neglect then of rime so little is to be 
 taken for a defect, though it may seem so perhaps to vulgar 
 readers, that it rather is to be esteemed an example set, the 
 first in English, of ancient liberty recovered to heroic poem 
 from the troublesome and modern bondage of riming. 
 
THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 The First Book proposes first [1] in brief the whole subject — 
 Man's disobedience, and the loss thereupon of Paradise, wherein he 
 was placed ; then touches the prime cause [27] of his fall, the Ser- 
 pent, or rather Satan in the Serpent; who revolting [36] from God, 
 and drawing to his side many legions of Angels, was by the command 
 of God driven out of Heaven, with all his crew, into the great Deep. 
 Which action passed over, the poem hastes into the midst of things, 
 presenting Satan [50] with his Angels now fallen into Hell, described 
 here not in the Centre (for Heaven and Earth may be supposed as 
 yet not made, certainly not yet accursed), but in a place of utter dark- 
 ness, fitliest called Chaos. Here Satan with his Angels lying on the 
 burning lake, thunderstruck and astonished, after a certain space 
 recovers, as from confusion, calls up him [79] who next in order and 
 dignity lay by him ; they confer of their miserable fall. Satan awa- 
 kens all his legions [299] , who lay till then in the same manner con- 
 founded. They rise [331] ; their numbers [338] ; array of battle [347, 
 522] ; their chief leaders named [376], according to the idols known 
 afterwards in Canaan and the countries adjoining. To these Satan 
 [589] directs his speech [621], comforts them with hope yet of regain- 
 ing Heaven [637] , but tells them lastly of a new World and new kind 
 of creature to be created [651], according to an ancient prophecy or 
 report in Heaven ; for that Angels were long before this visible crea- 
 tion was the opinion of many ancient Fathers. To find out the truth 
 of this prophecy, and what to determine thereon, he refers to a full 
 council [660]. What his associates thence attempt [671]. Pandemo- 
 nium, the palace of Satan, rises [710], suddenly built out of the Deep; 
 the infernal Peers there sit [752] in council. 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 Of Man's first disobedience, and the fruit 
 Of that forbidden tree whose mortal taste vocation 
 
 Brought death into the World, and all our woe, 
 With loss of Eden, till one greater Man 
 Restore us, and regain the blissful seat, 5 
 
 Sing, Heavenly Muse, that, on the secret top 
 Of Oreb, or of Sinai, didst inspire 
 That shepherd who first taught the chosen seed 
 In the beginning how the Heavens and Earth 
 Rose out of Chaos ; or, if Sion hill 10 
 
 Delight thee more, and Siloa's brook that flowed 
 Fast by the oracle of God, I thence 
 Invoke thy aid to my adventurous song, 
 That with no middle flight intends to soar 
 Above the Aonian mount, while it pursues 15 
 
 Things unattempted yet in prose or rhyme. 
 And chiefly Thou, O Spirit, that dost prefer 
 Before all temples the upright heart and pure, 
 Instruct me, for Thou know'st ; Thou from the first 
 Wast present, and, with mighty wings outspread, 
 Dove-like sat'st brooding on the vast Abyss, 21 
 And mad'st it pregnant : what in me is dark, 
 Illumine ; what is low, raise and support ; 
 That, to the highth of this great argument, 
 
 53 
 
54 
 
 PARADISE LOST 
 
 I may assert Eternal Providence, 
 And justify the ways of God to men. 
 
 Fall 
 demanded 
 
 Say first — for Heaven hides nothing from thy 
 view, 
 
 Cause of the Nor the deep tract of Hell — say first what cause 
 Moved our grand Parents, in that happy state, 
 Favored of Heaven so highly, to fall off 30 
 
 From their Creator, and transgress His will 
 For one restraint, lords of the World besides. 
 Who first seduced them to that foul revolt ? 
 
 The infernal Serpent ; he it was whose guile, 
 Stirred up with envy and revenge, deceived 35 
 The mother of mankind, what time his pride 
 Had cast him out from Heaven, with all his host 
 Of rebel Angels, by whose aid aspiring 
 To set himself in glory above his peers, 
 He trusted to have equaled the Most High, 40 
 
 If He opposed, and, with ambitious aim 
 Against the throne and monarchy of God, 
 Raised impious war in Heaven and battle proud, 
 With vain attempt. Him the Almighty Power 
 Hurled headlong flaming from the ethereal sky, 45 
 With hideous ruin and combustion, down 
 To bottomless perdition, there to dwell 
 In adamantine chains and penal fire, 
 Who durst defy the Omnipotent to arms. 
 
 Satan ; his 
 overthrow 
 and its 
 result. 
 
 Nine times the space that measures day and 
 night 50 
 
 To mortal men, he, with his horrid crew, 
 Lay vanquished, rolling in the fiery gulf, 
 
BOOK I. 55 
 
 Confounded, though immortal. But his doom 
 
 Reserved him to more wrath ; for now the thought 
 
 Both of lost happiness and lasting pain 55 
 
 Torments him ; round he throws his baleful eyes, 
 
 That witnessed huge affliction and dismay, 
 
 Mixed with obdurate pride and steadfast hate. 
 
 At once, as far as Angel's ken, he views „ . , 
 
 ' ° Satan in the 
 
 The dismal situation waste and wild. 60 fi ery pr i S on of 
 
 A dungeon horrible on all sides round Hel1 - 
 
 As one great furnace flamed ; yet from those 
 
 flames 
 No light ; 'but rather darkness visible 
 Served only to discover sights of woe, 
 Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace 65 
 And rest can never dwell, hope never comes 
 That comes to all, but torture without end 
 Still urges, and a fiery deluge, fed 
 With ever-burning sulphur unconsumed. 
 Such place Eternal Justice had prepared 70 
 
 For those rebellious ; here their prison ordained 
 In utter darkness, and their portion set, 
 As far removed from God and light of Heaven, 
 As from the centre thrice to the utmost pole. 74 
 Oh how unlike the place from whence they fell ! 
 There the companions of his fall, o'erwhelmed 
 With floods and whirlwinds of tempestuous fire, 
 He soon discerns ; and, weltering by his side, 
 One next himself in power, and next in crime, 
 Long after known in Palestine, and named 80 
 
 Beelzebub. To whom the Arch-Enemy, Beelzebub, 
 
 And thence in Heaven called Satan, with bold Satan's near- 
 words est mate ' 
 
56 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Breaking the horrid silence, thus began : — 
 
 < If thou beest he — but oh how fallen ! how 
 
 changed 
 From him who, in the happy realms of light, & 
 Clothed with transcendent brightness, didst out- 
 shine 
 Myriads, though bright ! — if he, whom mutual 
 
 league, 
 United thoughts and counsels, equal hope 
 And hazard in the glorious enterprise, 
 Joined with me once, now misery hath joined 90 
 In equal ruin — into what pit thou seest 
 From what highth fallen — so much the stronger 
 
 proved 
 He with His thunder ; and till then who knew 
 The force of those dire arms? Yet not for 
 
 those, 
 Satan reveals Nor what the potent Victor in His rage 95 
 
 his character. Q an e i se inflict, do I repent, or change, 
 
 Though changed in outward lustre, that fixed 
 
 mind, 
 And high disdain from sense of injured merit 
 That with the Mightiest raised me to contend, 
 And to the fierce contention brought along 100 
 Innumerable force of spirits armed, 
 That durst dislike His reign, and, me preferring, 
 His utmost power with adverse power opposed 
 In dubious battle on the plains of Heaven, 
 And shook His throne. What though the field 
 
 be lost ? 105 
 
 All is not lost — the unconquerable will, 
 And study of revenge, immortal hate, 
 
BOOK I. 57 
 
 And courage never to submit or yield, 
 And what is else not to be overcome ; 
 That glory never shall His wrath or might no 
 
 Extort from me. To bow and sue for grace 
 With suppliant knee, and deify His power 
 Who, from the terror of this arm, so late 
 Doubted His empire — that were low indeed ; 
 That were an ignominy and shame beneath 115 
 This downfall ; since, by fate, the strength of Gods, 
 And this empyreal substance, cannot fail ; 
 Since, through experience of this great event, 
 In arms not worse, in foresight much advanced, 
 We may with more successful hope resolve 120 
 To wage by force or guile eternal war, 
 Irreconcilable to our grand Foe, 
 Who now triumphs, and in the excess of joy 
 Sole reigning holds the tyranny of Heaven.' 
 
 So spake the apostate Angel, though in pain, 125 
 Vaunting aloud, but racked with deep despair ; 
 And him thus answered soon his bold compeer : — 
 
 1 O Prince, O Chief of many throned Powers 
 That led the embattled Seraphim to war 
 Under thy conduct, and, in dreadful deeds 130 
 
 Fearless, endangered Heaven's perpetual King, 
 And put to proof His high supremacy, 
 Whether upheld by strength, or chance, or fate ! 
 Too well I see and rue the dire event 
 That, with sad overthrow and foul defeat, 135 
 
 Hath lost us Heaven, and all this mighty host 
 In horrible destruction laid thus low, 
 As far as Gods and Heavenly Essences 
 Can perish — for the mind and spirit remains 
 
 Beelzebub's 
 gloomy ques- 
 tioning. 
 
58 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Invincible, and vigor soon returns, 140 
 
 Though all our glory extinct, and happy state 
 Here swallowed up in endless misery. 
 But what if He our Conqueror (whom I now 
 Of force believe almighty, since no less 
 Than such could have o'erpowered such force as 
 ours) 145 
 
 Have left us this our spirit and strength entire, 
 Strongly to suffer and support our pains, 
 That we may so suffice His vengeful ire, 
 Or do him mightier service as His thralls 
 By right of war, whate'er His business be, 150 
 
 Here in the heart of Hell to work in fire, 
 Or do His errands in the gloomy Deep ? 
 What can it then avail, though yet we feel 
 Strength undiminished, or eternal being 
 To undergo eternal punishment ? ' 155 
 
 Whereto with speedy words the Arch-Fiend 
 replied : — 
 ' Fallen Cherub, to be weak is miserable, 
 Doing or suffering ; but of this be sure — 
 To do aught good never will be our task, 
 But ever to do ill our sole delight, 16 ° 
 
 As being the contrary to His high will 
 Whom we resist. If then His providence 
 Out of our evil seek to bring forth good, 
 s . , Our labor must be to pervert that end, 
 
 indomitable And out of good still to find means of evil ; 165 
 purpose. Which ofttimes may succeed so as perhaps 
 
 Shall grieve Him, if I fail not, and disturb 
 His inmost counsels from their destined aim. 
 But see ! the angry Victor hath recalled 
 
BOOK I. 59 
 
 His ministers of vengeance and pursuit 1TO 
 
 Back to the gates of Heaven ; the sulphurous hail, 
 
 Shot after us in storm, o'erblown hath laid 
 
 The fiery surge that from the precipice 
 
 Of Heaven received us falling ; and the thunder, 
 
 Winged with red lightning and impetuous rage, 175 
 
 Perhaps hath spent his shafts, and ceases now 
 
 To bellow through the vast and boundless Deep. 
 
 Let us not slip the occasion, whether scorn 
 
 Or satiate fury yield it from our Foe. 
 
 Seest thou yon dreary plain, forlorn and wild, 18 ° 
 
 The seat of desolation, void of light, 
 
 Save what the glimmering of these livid flames 
 
 Casts pale and dreadful ? Thither let us tend 
 
 From off the tossing of these fiery waves ; 
 
 There rest, if any rest can harbor there ; 185 
 
 And, reassembling our afflicted powers, 
 
 Consult how we may henceforth most offend 
 
 Our Enemy, our own loss how repair, 
 
 How overcome this dire calamity, 
 
 What reinforcement we may gain from hope, 19 ° 
 
 If not, what resolution from despair.' 
 
 Thus Satan, talking to his nearest mate, 
 With head uplift above the wave, and eyes 
 That sparkling blazed ; his other parts besides 
 Prone on the flood, extended long and large, 195 
 Lay floating many a rood, in bulk as huge His huge 
 
 As whom the fables name of monstrous size, bulk. 
 
 Titanian, or Earth-born, that warred on Jove, 
 Briareos, or Typhon, whom the den 
 By ancient Tarsus held ; or that sea-beast 200 
 
 Leviathan, which God of all his works 
 
60 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Created hugest that swim the ocean stream. 
 
 Him, haply slumbering on the Norway foam, 
 
 The pilot of some small night-foundered skiff, 
 
 Deeming some island, oft, as seamen tell, 205 
 
 AYith fixed anchor in his scaly rind, 
 
 Moors by his side under the lee, while night 
 
 Invests the sea, and wished morn delays. 
 
 So stretched out huge in length the Arch-Fiend 
 
 lay, 
 Chained on the burning lake ; nor ever thence 21 ° 
 Had risen, or heaved his head, but that the will 
 And high permission of all-ruling Heaven 
 Left him at large to his own dark designs, 
 That with reiterated crimes he might 
 Heap on himself damnation, while he sought 215 
 Evil to others, and enraged might see 
 How all his malice served but to bring forth 
 Infinite goodness, grace, and mercy, shown 
 On man by him seduced, but on himself 
 Treble confusion, wrath, and vengeance poured. 220 
 
 Forthwith upright he rears from off the pool 
 His mighty stature ; on each hand the flames 
 Driven backward slope their pointing spires, and, 
 
 rolled 
 
 In billows, leave i' the midst a horrid vale. 
 
 Then with expanded wings he steers his flight 225 
 
 Aloft, incumbent on the dusky air, 
 
 That felt unusual weight ; till on dry land 
 
 He lights — if it were land that ever burned 
 
 With solid, as the lake with liquid fire, 
 
 The burning ^nd guc ] 1 a pp eare d in hue as when the force 230 
 land on which _„ . . , , .,, 
 
 they alight, O f subterranean wind transports a hill 
 
BOOK I. 61 
 
 Torn from Pelorus, or the shattered side 
 
 Of thundering iEtna, whose combustible 
 
 And fueled entrails thence conceiving fire, 
 
 Sublimed with mineral fury, aid the winds, 235 
 
 And leave a singed bottom, all involved 
 
 With stench and smoke. Such resting found the 
 
 sole 
 Of unblest feet. Him followed his next mate ; 
 Both glorying to have scaped the Stygian flood 
 As gods, and by their own recovered strength, 240 
 Not by the sufferance of supernal power. 
 
 ' Is this the region, this the soil, the clime,' 
 Said then the lost Archangel, ' this the seat 
 That we must change for Heaven ? — this mourn- 
 ful gloom 
 For that celestial light ? Be it so, since He 245 
 Who now is sovran can dispose and bid 
 What shall be right ; farthest from Him is best, 
 Whom reason hath equaled, force hath made 
 
 supreme 
 Above His equals. Farewell, happy fields, 
 Where joy for ever dwells ! Hail, horrors ! hail, 250 
 
 Infernal World ! and thou, profoundest Hell, Satan's 
 
 acceptance of 
 Receive thy new possessor — one who brings circum- 
 
 A mind not to be changed by place or time ; stances. 
 
 The mind is its own place, and in itself 
 
 Can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven. 255 
 
 What matter where, if I be still the same, 
 
 And what I should be, all but less than He 
 
 Whom thunder hath made greater ? Here at least 
 
 We shall be free ; the Almighty hath not built 
 
 Here for His envy, will not drive us hence ; 260 
 
62 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Beelzebub's 
 confidence in 
 Satan's power 
 to inspire. 
 
 Satan's spear 
 and shield. 
 
 Here we may reign secure ; and, in my choice, 
 To reign is worth ambition, though in Hell ; 
 Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven. 
 But wherefore let we then our faithful friends, 
 The associates and copartners of our loss, 265 
 
 Lie thus astonished on the oblivious pool, 
 And call them not to share with us their part 
 In this unhappy mansion, or once more 
 With rallied arms to try what may be yet 
 Regained in Heaven, or w T hat more lost in Hell ? ' 
 
 So Satan spake ; and him Beelzebub 271 
 
 Thus answered : — ' Leader of those armies bright 
 Which, but the Omnipotent, none could have 
 
 foiled ! 
 If once they hear that voice, their liveliest pledge 
 Of hope in fears and dangers — heard so oft 275 
 In worst extremes, and on the perilous edge 
 Of battle, when it raged, in all assaults 
 Their surest signal — they will soon resume 
 New courage and revive, though now they lie 
 Groveling and prostrate on yon lake of fire, 280 
 As we erewhile, astounded and amazed ; 
 No wonder, fallen such a pernicious highth.' 
 
 He scarce had ceased when the superior Fiend 
 Was moving toward the shore ; his ponderous 
 
 shield, 
 Ethereal temper, massy, large, and round, 285 
 
 Behind him cast. The broad circumference 
 Hung on his shoulders like the moon, w 7 hose orb 
 Through optic glass the Tuscan artist views 
 At evening, from the top of Fesole, 
 Or in Valdarno, to descry new lands, 290 
 
BOOK I. 63 
 
 Rivers, or mountains, in her spotty globe. 
 His spear — to equal which the tallest pine 
 Hewn on Norwegian hills, to be the mast 
 Of some great ammiral, were but a wand — 
 He walked with, to support uneasy steps 295 
 
 Over the burning marl, — not like those steps 
 On Heaven's azure ; and the torrid clime 
 Smote on him sore besides, vaulted with fire. 
 
 iSTathless he so endured, till on the beach 
 Of that inflamed sea he stood, and called 300 
 
 His legions — Angel Forms, who lay entranced _,, 
 Thick as autumnal leaves that strow the brooks G f his reclin- 
 In Vallombrosa, where the Etrurian shades ing host. 
 
 High overarched embower ; or scattered sedge 
 Afloat, when with fierce winds Orion armed 305 
 Hath vexed the Red Sea coast, whose waves 
 
 o'erthrew 
 Busiris and his Memphian chivalry, 
 While with perfidious hatred they pursued 
 The sojourners of Goshen, who beheld 
 From the safe shore their floating carcasses 310 
 And broken chariot-wheels. So thick bestrown, 
 Abject and lost, lay these, covering the flood, 
 Under amazement of their hideous change. 
 
 He called so loud that all the hollow deep 
 Of Hell resounded : — * Princes, Potentates, 315 
 Warriors, the Flower of Heaven — once yours, 
 
 now lost, 
 If such astonishment as this can seize 
 Eternal Spirits I Or have ye chosen this place 
 After the toil of battle to repose 
 Your wearied virtue, for the ease you find 320 
 
64 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Satan rouses 
 Ms followers 
 with taunts. 
 
 The numbers 
 of his flying 
 host. 
 
 To slumber here, as in the vales of Heaven ? 
 Or in this abject posture have ye sworn 
 To adore the Conqueror, who now beholds 
 Cherub and Seraph rolling in the flood 
 With scattered arms and ensigns, till anon 325 
 His swift pursuers from Heaven-gates discern 
 The advantage, and, descending, tread us down 
 Thus drooping, or with linked thunderbolts 
 Transfix us to the bottom of this gulf ? — 
 Awake, arise, or be for ever fallen ! ' 330 
 
 They heard, and were abashed, and up they 
 sprung 
 Upon the wing, as when men wont to watch, 
 On duty sleeping found by whom they dread, 
 Rouse and bestir themselves ere well awake. 
 Nor did they not perceive the evil plight 335 
 
 In which they were, or the fierce pains not feel ; 
 Yet to their General's voice they soon obeyed 
 Innumerable. As when the potent rod 
 Of Amram's son, in Egypt's evil day, 
 Waved round the coast, upcalled a pitchy cloud 
 Of locusts, warping on the eastern wind, 341 
 
 That o'er the realm of impious Pharaoh hung 
 Like Night, and darkened all the land of Nile : 
 So numberless were those bad Angels seen 
 Hovering on wing under the cope of Hell, 345 
 
 'Twixt upper, nether, and surrounding fires ; 
 Till, as a signal given, the uplifted spear 
 Of their great Sultan waving to direct 
 Their course, in even balance down they light 
 On the firm brimstone, and fill all the plain, — 350 
 A multitude like which the populous North 
 
BOOK I. 65 
 
 Poured never from her frozen loins to pass 
 Rhene or the Danaw, when her barbarous sons 
 Came like a deluge on the South, and spread 
 Beneath Gibraltar to the Libyan sands. 355 
 
 Forthwith from every squadron and each band, 
 
 The heads and leaders thither haste where stood 
 
 Their great Commander — Godlike Shapes, and 
 
 Forms 
 
 Excelling human ; Princely Dignities ; 359 
 
 And Powers that erst in Heaven sat on thrones, 
 
 Though of their names in Heavenly records now 
 
 Be no memorial, blotted out and rased ™ . <. 
 
 The infernal 
 By their rebellion from the Books of Life. leaders. 
 
 Nor had they yet among the sons of Eve 
 
 Got them new names, till, wandering o'er the 
 
 earth, 365 
 
 Through God's high sufferance for the trial of 
 
 man, 
 
 By falsities and lies the greatest part 
 
 Of mankind they corrupted to forsake 
 
 God their Creator, <and the invisible 
 
 Glory of Him that made them to transform 370 
 
 Oft to the image of a brute, adorned 
 
 With gay religions full of pomp and gold, — 
 
 And devils to adore for deities ; 
 
 Then were they known to men by various names 
 
 And various idols, through the heathen world. 375 
 
 Say, Muse, their names then known, who first, 
 
 who last, Th * f use in " 
 
 voked. 
 
 Roused from the slumber on that fiery couch, 
 At their great Emperor's call, as next in worth 
 
66 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Came singly where he stood on the bare strand, 
 While the promiscuous crowd stood yet aloof. 380 
 
 The chief 
 leaders, after- 
 wards gods 
 of the 
 heathen. 
 
 Moloch. 
 
 The chief were those who, from the pit of Hell 
 Roaming to seek their prey on Earth, durst fix 
 Their seats, long after, next the seat of God, 
 Their altars by His altar, gods adored 
 Among the nations round, and durst abide 385 
 Jehovah thundering out of Sion, throned 
 Between the Cherubim ; yea, often placed 
 Within His sanctuary itself their shrines, 
 Abominations ; and with cursed things 
 His holy rites and solemn feasts profaned, 39 ° 
 
 And with their darkness durst affront His light. 
 
 First, Moloch, horrid king, besmeared with 
 blood 
 Of human sacrifice, and parents' tears — 
 Though, for the noise of drums and timbrels loud, 
 Their children's cries unheard that passed through 
 fire 3 95 
 
 To his grim idol. Him the Ammonite 
 Worshiped in Rabba and her watery plain, 
 In Argob and in Basan, to the stream 
 Of utmost Anion. Xor content with such 
 Audacious neighborhood, the wisest heart m 
 
 Of Solomon he led by fraud to build 
 His temple right against the temple of God 
 On that opprobrious hill, and made his grove 
 The pleasant valley of Hinnom, Tophet thence 
 And black Gehenna called, the type of Hell. 4 °5 
 
 Next, Chemos, the obscene dread of Moab's 
 sons, 
 
BOOK L 67 
 
 From Aroar to Nebo and the wild 
 
 Of southmost Abarim; in Hesebon 
 
 And Horonaim, Seon's realm, beyond Cliemos, or 
 
 The flowery dale of Sibma clad with vines, *io Peor - 
 
 And Eleale to the Asphaltic Pool — 
 
 Peor his other name, when he "enticed 
 
 Israel in Sittim, on their march from Nile, 
 
 To do him wanton rites, which cost them woe — 
 
 Yet thence his lustful orgies he enlarged 415 
 
 Even to that hill of scandal, by the grove 
 
 Of Moloch homicide — lust hard by hate — 
 
 Till good Josiah drove them thence to Hell. 
 
 With these came they who, from the bordering 
 
 flood 
 Of old Euphrates to the brook that parts 420 
 
 Egypt from Syrian ground, had general names 
 Of Baalim and Ashtaroth — those male, 
 These feminine. For Spirits, when they please, 
 Can either sex assume, or both ; so soft 
 
 And uncompounded is their essence pure, 425 Ashtarothf 
 
 Not tied or manacled with joint or limb, 
 Nor founded on the brittle strength of bones, 
 Like cumbrous flesh; but, in what shape they 
 
 choose, 
 Dilated or condensed, bright or obscure, 
 Can execute their aery purposes, 430 
 
 And works of love or enmity fulfil. 
 For those the race of Israel oft forsook 
 Their Living Strength, and unfrequented left 
 His righteous altar, bowing lowly down 
 To bestial gods ; for which their heads, as low 435 
 Bowed down in battle, sunk before the spear 
 Of despicable foes. 
 
Adonis. 
 
 68 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 With these in troop 
 Came Astoreth, whom the Phoenicians called 
 Astarte, queen of heaven, with crescent horns ; 
 To whose bright image nightly by the moon *«> 
 
 Astoreth. Sidonian virgins paid their vows and songs ; 
 
 In Sion also not unsung, where stood 
 Her temple on the offensive mountain, built 
 By that uxorious king whose heart, though large, 
 Beguiled by fair idolatresses, fell **5 
 
 To idols foul. 
 
 Thammuz came next behind, 
 Whose annual wound in Lebanon allured 
 
 Thammuz, or The Syrian damsels to lament his fate 
 In amorous ditties all a summer's day, 
 While smooth Adonis from his native rock 450 
 Ran purple to the sea, supposed with blood 
 Of Thammuz yearly wounded ; the love-tale 
 Infected Sion's daughters with like heat, 
 Whose wanton passions in the sacred porch 
 Ezekiel saw, when, by the vision led, 455 
 
 His eye surveyed the dark idolatries 
 Of alienated Judah. 
 
 Next came one 
 Who mourned in earnest, when the captive ark 
 Maimed his brute image, head and hands lopped 
 
 off 
 In his own temple, on the grunsel edge, 46 ° 
 
 Where he fell flat, and shamed his worshipers ; 
 Dagon his name, sea-monster, upward man 
 And downward fish ; yet had his temple high 
 Reared in Azotus, dreaded through the coast 
 Of Palestine, in Gath and Ascalon, 465 
 
 Dagon. 
 
BOOK I. 69 
 
 And Accaron and Gaza's frontier bounds. 
 
 Him followed Bimmon, whose delightful seat 
 Was fair Damascus, on the fertile banks 
 Of Abbana and Pharphar, lucid streams. 
 He also against the house of God was bold ; 470 
 A leper once he lost, and gained a king — Rimmon. 
 
 Ahaz, his sottish conqueror, whom he drew 
 God's altar to disparage and displace 
 For one of Syrian mode, whereon to burn 
 His odious offerings, and adore the gods 475 
 
 Whom he had vanquished. 
 
 After these appeared 
 A crew who, under names of old renown — Osiris, Isis, 
 
 Osiris, Isis, Orus, and their train — 0rus - 
 
 With monstrous shapes and sorceries abused 
 Fanatic Egypt and her priests to seek 480 
 
 Their wandering gods disguised in brutish forms 
 Rather than human. Nor did Israel scape 
 The infection, when their borrowed gold composed 
 The calf in Oreb ; and the rebel king 
 Doubled that sin in Bethel and in Dan, 485 
 
 Likening his Maker to the grazed ox — 
 Jehovah, who, in one night, when he passed 
 From Egypt marching, equaled with one stroke 
 Both her first-born and all her bleating gods. 
 
 Belial came last, than whom a Spirit more 
 lewd 490 
 
 Fell not from heaven, or more gross to love 
 Vice for itself. To him no temple stood, 
 Or altar smoked ; yet who more oft than he 
 In temples and at altars, when the priest Belial 
 
 Turns atheist, as did Eli's sons, who filled 495 
 
70 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 With lust and violence the house of God ? 
 
 In courts and palaces he also reigns, 
 
 And in luxurious cities, where the noise 
 
 Of riot ascends above their loftiest towers, 
 
 And injury and outrage ; and, when night 500 
 
 Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons 
 
 Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine — 
 
 Witness the streets of Sodom, and that night 
 
 In Gibeah, when the hospitable door 
 
 Exposed a matron, to avoid worse rape. 505 
 
 These were the prime in order and in might ; 
 The rest were long to tell, though far renowned 
 The Ionian gods — of Javan's issue held 
 Gods, yet confessed later than Heaven and Earth, 
 Their boasted parents ; — Titan, Heaven's first- 
 born, 510 
 Greece. With his enormous brood, and birthright seized 
 By younger Saturn ; he from mightier Jove, 
 His own and Rhea's son, like measure found ; 
 So Jove usurping reigned. These, first in Crete 
 And Ida known, thence on the snowy top 515 
 Of cold Olympus ruled the middle air, 
 Their highest heaven ; or on the Delphian cliff, 
 Or in Dodona, and through all the bounds 
 Of Doric land ; or who with Saturn old 
 Fled over Adria to the Hesperian fields, 520 
 And o'er the Celtic roamed the utmost isles. 
 All these and more came flocking, but with 
 looks 
 Downcast and damp ; yet such wherein appeared 
 Obscure some glimpse of joy to have found their 
 Chief 
 
BOOK I. 71 / 
 
 Not in despair, to have found themselves not 
 
 lost 525 
 
 In loss itself ; which on his countenance cast 
 
 Like doubtful hue. But he, his wonted pride 
 
 Soon re-collecting, with high words, that bore 
 
 Semblance of worth, not substance, gently raised 
 
 Their fainting courage, and dispelled their fears, 530 
 
 Then straight commands that, at the warlike sound 
 
 _ •,,,,. i i The array of 
 
 Of trumpets loud and clarions, be upreared battle. 
 
 His mighty standard. That proud honor claimed 
 
 Azazel as his right, a Cherub tall, 
 
 Who forthwith from the glittering staff unfurled 535 
 
 The imperial ensign ; which, full high advanced, 
 
 Shone like a meteor streaming to the wind, 
 
 With gems and golden lustre rich emblazed, 
 
 Seraphic arms and trophies — all the while 
 
 Sonorous metal blowing martial sounds — 540 
 
 At which the universal host up-sent 
 
 A shout that tore Hell's concave, and beyond 
 
 Frighted the reign of Chaos and old Night. 
 
 All in a moment through the gloom were seen 
 
 Ten thousand banners rise into the air, 545 
 
 With orient colors waving ; with them rose 
 
 A forest huge of spears ; and thronging helms 
 
 Appeared, and serried shields in thick array 
 
 Of depth immeasurable. 
 
 Anon they move 
 
 In perfect phalanx to the Dorian mood 550 
 
 Of flutes and soft recorders — such as raised 
 
 To highth of noblest temper heroes old 
 
 Arming to battle, and instead of rage 
 
 Deliberate valor breathed, firm, and unmoved 
 
72 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Their Dorian With dread of death to flight or foul retreat ; 555 
 martial -^ or wan ti n g power to mitigate and swage 
 
 With solemn touches troubled thoughts, and chase 
 Anguish and doubt and fear and sorrow and 
 
 pain 
 From mortal or immortal minds. Thus they, 
 Breathing united force with fixed thought, 560 
 
 Moved on in silence to soft pipes that charmed 
 Their painful steps o'er the burnt soil. 
 
 And now 
 Advanced in view they stand, a horrid front 
 Of dreadful length and dazzling arms, in guise 
 Of warriors old, with ordered spear and shield, 565 
 The review of Awaiting what command their mighty Chief 
 the infernal Had to impose. He through the armed files 
 Darts his experienced eye, and soon traverse 
 The whole battalion views, their order due, 
 Their visages and stature as of gods ; 570 
 
 Their number last he sums. And now his heart 
 Distends with pride, and, hardening in his strength, 
 Glories ; for never, since created Man, 
 Met such embodied force as, named with these, 
 Could merit more than that small infantry 575 
 
 Warred on by cranes — though all the giant brood 
 Of Phlegra with the heroic race were joined 
 That fought at Thebes and Ilium, on each side 
 
 Their 
 
 superiority to -^ xe d with auxiliar gods ; and what resounds 
 all human In fable or romance of Uther's son, 580 
 
 armies. Begirt with British and Armoric knights ; 
 
 And all who since, baptized or infidel, 
 Jousted in Aspramont, or Montalban, 
 Damasco, or Marocco, or Trebisond, 
 
BOOK I. 73 
 
 Or whom Biserta sent from Afric shore 585 
 
 When Charlemain with all his peerage fell 
 
 By Fontarabiba. 
 
 Thus far these beyond 
 
 >mpare of mortal prowess, yet observed 
 
 lieir dread Commander. He, above the rest 
 
 In shape and gesture proudly eminent, 590 
 
 Stood like a tower. His form had yet not lost 
 
 All her original brightness, nor appeared 
 
 iess than Archangel ruined, and the excess 
 
 glory obscured — as when the sun new-risen 
 
 Looks through the horizontal misty air 595 The ruined 
 
 i i • i i g lor T of their 
 
 Shorn of his beams, or, from behind the moon, commander. 
 
 In dim eclipse, disastrous twilight sheds 
 
 On half the nations, and with fear of change 
 
 Perplexes monarchs. Darkened so, yet shone 
 
 Above them all the Archangel ; but his face 600 
 
 Deep scars of thunder had intrenched, and care 
 
 Sat on his faded cheek, but under brows 
 
 Of dauntless courage, and considerate pride 
 
 Waiting revenge. Cruel his eye, but cast 
 
 Signs of remorse and passion, to behold 605 
 
 The fellows of his crime, the followers rather 
 
 (Far other once beheld in bliss), condemned 
 
 For ever now to have their lot in pain — 
 
 Millions of Spirits for his fault amerced 
 
 Of Heaven, and from eternal splendors flung 610 
 
 For his revolt — yet faithful how they stood, 
 
 Their glory withered ; as when heaven's fire 
 
 Hath scathed the forest oaks or mountain pines, 
 
 With singed top their stately growth, though bare, 
 
 Stands on the blasted heath. 
 
74 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 He prepares 
 to speak. 
 
 Their strife 
 was glorious. 
 
 The issue was 
 uuexpected. 
 
 They may yet 
 return. 
 
 Fraud must 
 effect what 
 force could 
 not. 
 
 He now prepared 615 
 To speak ; whereat their doubled ranks they bend 
 From wing to wing, and half enclose him round 
 With all his peers ; attention held them mute. 
 Thrice he essayed, and thrice, in spite of scorn, 
 Tears, such as Angels weep, burst forth ; at last 620 
 Words interwove with sighs found out their way: — 
 
 1 O myriads of immortal Spirits ! O Powers 
 Matchless, but with the Almighty ! — and that 
 
 strife 
 Was not inglorious, though the event was dire, 
 As this place testifies, and this dire change 625 
 Hateful to utter. But what power of mind, 
 Foreseeing or presaging, from the depth 
 Of knowledge past or present, could have feared 
 How such united force of gods, how such 
 As stood like these, could ever know repulse ? 630 
 For who can yet believe, though after loss, 
 That all these puissant legions, whose exile 
 Hath emptied Heaven, shall fail to reascend 
 Self -raised, and repossess their native seat? 
 For me, be witness all the host of Heaven, 635 
 
 If counsels different, or danger shunned 
 By me, have lost our hopes. But He who reigns 
 Monarch in Heaven, till then as one secure 
 Sat on His throne, upheld by old repute, 
 Consent, or custom, and His regal state 640 
 
 Put forth at full, but still His strength concealed — 
 Which tempted our attempt, and wrought our fall. 
 Henceforth His might we know, and know our 
 
 own, 
 So as not either to provoke, or dread 
 
BOOK I. 75 
 
 New war provoked ; our better part remains 645 
 To work in close design, by fraud or guile, 
 What force effected not ; that He no less 
 At length from us may find, who overcomes 
 By force hath overcome but half his foe. 
 Space may produce new worlds ; whereof so 
 
 rife 650 
 
 There went a fame in Heaven that He ere long The new 
 
 world 
 
 Intended to create, and therein plant mentioned. 
 
 A generation whom his choice regard 
 
 Should favor equal to the Sons of Heaven. 
 
 Thither, if but to pry, shall be perhaps 655 
 
 Our first eruption — thither, or elsewhere ; 
 
 For this infernal pit shall never hold They must 
 
 Celestial Spirits in bondage, nor the Abyss escape. 
 
 Long under darkness cover. But these thoughts 
 
 & & No thought of 
 
 1 ull counsel must mature. Peace is despaired ; 660 su braission. 
 
 For who can think submission ? War, then, war 
 
 Open or understood, must be resolved.' 
 
 He spake ; and, to confirm his words, outflew 
 
 Millions of flaming swords, drawn from the thighs The flash of 
 
 Of mighty Cherubim ; the sudden blaze 665 sword s and 
 
 ° J smiting of 
 
 Far round illumined Hell. Highly they raged shields. 
 
 Against the Highest, and fierce with grasped arms 
 
 Clashed on their sounding shields the din of war, 
 
 Hurling defiance toward the vault of Heaven. 
 
 There stood a hill not far, whose grisly top 670 
 Belched fire and rolling smoke ; the rest entire 
 Shone with a glossy scurf — undoubted sign 
 That in his womb was hid metallic ore, 
 The work of sulphur. Thither, winged with speed, pr0 jected. 
 
76 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Mammon. 
 
 They mine, 
 and smelt, 
 and cast. 
 
 A numerous brigade hastened, as when bands 675 
 Of pioneers, with spade and pickaxe armed, 
 Forerun the royal camp, to trench a field, 
 Or cast a rampart. 
 
 Mammon led them on — 
 Mammon, the least erected spirit that fell 
 From Heaven ; for even in Heaven his looks and 
 thoughts 680 
 
 Were always downward bent, admiring more 
 The riches of Heaven's pavement, trodden gold, 
 Than aught divine or holy else enjoyed 
 In vision beatific. By him first 
 Men also, and by his suggestion taught, Q85 
 
 Ransacked the Centre, and with impious hands 
 Rifled the bowels of their mother Earth 
 For treasures better hid. 
 
 Soon had his crew 
 Opened into the hill a spacious wound, 
 And digged out ribs of gold. Let none admire 600 
 That riches grow in Hell ; that soil may best 
 Deserve the precious bane. And here let those 
 Who boast in mortal things, and wondering tell 
 Of Babel, and the works of Memphian kings, 
 Learn how their greatest monuments of fame, 695 
 And strength, and art, are easily outdone 
 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 prepared, 
 That underneath had veins of liquid fire 
 Sluiced from the lake, a second multitude 
 With wondrous art founded the massy ore, 
 
 700 
 
BOOK L 77 
 
 Severing each kind, and scummed the bullion 
 
 dross. 
 A third as soon had formed within the ground 705 
 A various mold, and from the boiling cells 
 By strange conveyance filled each hollow nook ; 
 As in an organ, from one blast of wind, 
 To many a row of pipes the soundboard breathes. 
 Anon out of the earth a fabric huge 710 
 
 Rose like an exhalation, with the sound 
 Of dulcet symphonies and voices sweet — 
 Built like a temple, where pilasters round 
 Were set, and Doric pillars overlaid 
 With golden architrave ; nor did there want 715 
 Cornice or frieze, with bossy sculptures graven ; The al f 
 The roof was fretted gold. Not Babylon Pandemon- 
 
 Nor great Alcairo such magnificence lum nses - 
 
 Equaled in all their glories, to enshrine 
 Belus or Serapis their gods, or seat 720 
 
 Their kings, when Egypt with Assyria strove 
 In wealth and luxury. The ascending pile 
 Stood fixed her stately highth ; and straight the 
 
 doors, 
 Opening their brazen folds, discover, wide 
 Within, her ample spaces, o'er the smooth 725 
 
 And level pavement ; from the arched roof 
 Pendent by subtle magic, many a row 
 Of starry lamps and blazing cressets, fed 
 With naphtha and asphaltus, yielded light 
 As from a sky. 
 
 The hasty multitude 730 
 
 Admiring entered ; and the work some praise, 
 And some the architect. His hand was known 
 
78 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 In Heaven by many a towered structure high, 
 
 Where sceptred Angels held their residence, 
 
 And sat as Princes, whom the Supreme King 735 
 
 Exalted to such power, and gave to rule, 
 
 Each in his hierarchy, the Orders bright. 
 The architect , J ' & 
 
 was Mulciber, Nor was his name unheard or unadored 
 
 otherwise J n ancient Greece ; and in Ausonian land 
 Vulcan* S ° r ^ en ca ^ e( ^ n ^ m Mulciber ; and how he fell 740 
 From heaven 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 
 Dropped from the zenith, like a falling star, 745 
 On Lemnos, the iEgaean isle. Thus they relate, 
 Erring; for he with this rebellious rout 
 Fell long before ; nor aught availed him now 
 To have built in Heaven high towers ; nor did he 
 
 scape 
 By all his engines, but was headlong sent, 750 
 
 With his industrious crew, to build in Hell. 
 
 Meanwhile the winged Heralds, by command 
 Of sovran power, with awful ceremony 
 And trumpet's sound, throughout the host pro- 
 claim 
 A solemn council forthwith to be held 755 
 
 At Pandemonium, the high capital 
 Of Satan and his peers. Their summons called 
 From every band and squared regiment 
 By place or choice the worthiest ; they, anon, 
 With hundreds and with thousands trooping 
 
 The summons 
 to the council. 
 
 The infernal 
 estates con- 
 vene, came 
 
BOOK I. 79 
 
 Attended. All access was thronged ; the gates 
 And porches wide, but chief the spacious hall 
 (Though like a covered field, where champions 
 
 bold 
 Wont ride in armed, and at the Soldan's chair 
 Defied the best of Paynim chivalry 765 
 
 To mortal combat, or career with lance), 
 Thick swarmed, both on the ground and in the air, 
 Brushed 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 77 ° The swarms 
 In clusters ; they among fresh dews and flowers of lesser 
 Fly to and fro, or on the smoothed plank, 
 The suburb of their straw-built citadel, 
 New rubbed with balm, expatiate, and confer 
 Their state affairs ; so thick the aery crowd 775 
 Swarmed and were straitened ; till, the signal 
 
 given, 
 Behold a wonder ! They but now who seemed 
 In bigness to surpass Earth's giant sons, 
 Now less than smallest dwarfs, in narrow room 
 Throng numberless — like that pygmean race 780 Their tran& . 
 Beyond the Indian mount ; or faery elves, formation. 
 
 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 785 
 
 Wheels her pale course ; 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 
 
80 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Reduced their shapes immense, and were at 
 
 large, 790 
 
 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 — 795 The inner 
 
 A thousand demigods on golden seats — 
 Frequent and full. After short silence then, 
 And summons read, the great consult began. 
 
 conclave. 
 
THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 The consultation begun, Satan debates [11] wbether another battle 
 be to be hazarded for the recovery of Heaven ; some advise it [42] , 
 others dissuade [108]. A third proposal [299] is preferred [386], men- 
 tioned before by Satan — to search the truth of that prophecy or 
 tradition in Heaven concerning another world, and another kind 
 of creature, equal, or not much inferior, to themselves, about this 
 time to be created. Their doubt who shall be sent on this difficult 
 search [417] ; Satan, their chief, undertakes alone [426] the voyage ; 
 is honored and applauded [477]. The council thus ended [506], the 
 rest betake them several ways, and to several employments, as their 
 inclinations lead them [523], to entertain the time till Satan return. 
 He passes on his journey [629] to Hell-gates; finds them shut, and 
 who sat there to guard them [648] ; by whom at length they are 
 opened [831], and discover to him the great Gulf between Hell and 
 Heaven [890]. With what difficulty he passes through [927], directed 
 by Chaos, the Power of that place, to the sight of this new World 
 [1051] which he sought. 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 High on a throne of royal state, which far 
 
 Outshone the wealth of Ormus and of Ind, 
 
 Or where the gorgeous East with richest hand 
 
 Showers on her kings barbaric pearl and gold, 
 
 Satan exalted sat, by merit raised 5 Satan's royal 
 
 To that bad eminence ; and, from despair 
 
 Thus high uplifted beyond hope, aspires 
 
 Beyond thus high, insatiate to pursue 
 
 Vain war with Heaven ; and, by success untaught, 
 
 His proud imaginations thus displayed : — 10 
 
 'Powers and Dominions, Deities of Heaven! — 
 For, since no deep within her gulf can hold 
 Immortal vigor, though oppressed and fallen, 
 I give not Heaven for lost ; from this descent 
 Celestial Virtues rising will appear 15 
 
 More glorious and more dread than from no fall, 
 And trust themselves to fear no second fate ! — 
 Me though just right and the fixed laws of Heaven 
 Did first create your leader — next, free choice, 
 With what besides in council or in fight 20 
 
 Hath been achieved of merit — yet this loss, 
 Thus far at least recovered, hath much more 
 Established in a safe, unenvied throne, 
 Yielded with full consent. The happier state 
 
 83 
 
84 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Satan, as- 
 sured of 
 eminence in 
 danger and 
 suffering, in- 
 vites counsel 
 from his 
 associates. 
 
 Moloch's 
 fierceness. 
 
 Moloch 
 advises open 
 war. 
 
 In Heaven, which follows dignity, might draw 25 
 
 Envy from each inferior ; but who here 
 
 Will envy whom the highest place exposes 
 
 Foremost to stand against the Thunderer's aim 
 
 Your bulwark, and condemns to greatest share 
 
 Of endless pain ? Where there is, then, no good 30 
 
 For which to strive, no strife can grow up there 
 
 From faction ; for none sure will claim in Hell 
 
 Precedence ; none whose portion is so small 
 
 Of present pain that with ambitious mind 
 
 Will covet more. With this advantage, then, 35 
 
 To union and firm faith and firm accord, 
 
 More than can be in Heaven, we now return 
 
 To claim our just inheritance of old, 
 
 Surer to prosper than prosperity 
 
 Could have assured us ; and by what best way, 40 
 
 Whether of open war or covert guile, 
 
 We now debate. Who can advise may speak.' 
 
 He ceased ; and next him Moloch, sceptred king, 
 Stood up — the strongest and the fiercest spirit 
 That fought in Heaven, now fiercer by despair. 45 
 His trust was with the Eternal to be deemed 
 Equal in strength, and, rather than be less, 
 Cared not to be at all ; with that care lost 
 Went all his fear ; of God, or Hell, or worse, 
 He recked not, and these words thereafter 
 
 spake : — 50 
 
 « My sentence is for open war. Of wiles, 
 More unexpert, I boast not ; them let those 
 Contrive who need, or when they need, not now. 
 For, while they sit contriving, shall the rest — 
 Millions that stand in arms, and longing wait 55 
 
BOOK II. 85 
 
 The signal to ascend — sit lingering here 
 Heaven's fugitives, and for their dwelling-place 
 Accept this dark opprobrious den of shame, 
 The prison of His tyranny who reigns 
 By our delay ? No, let us rather choose, 60 
 
 Armed with Hell-flames and fury, all at once 
 O'er Heaven's high towers to force resistless way, 
 Turning our tortures into horrid arms 
 Against the Torturer ; when, to meet the noise 
 Of His almighty engine, He shall hear 65 
 
 Infernal thunder, and, for lightning, see 
 Black fire and horror shot with equal rage 
 Among His Angels, and His throne itself 
 Mixed with Tartarean sulphur and strange fire, 
 His own invented torments. But perhaps 70 
 
 The way seems difficult, and steep to scale 
 With upright wing against a higher Foe ! 
 Let such bethink them, if the sleepy drench 
 Of that forgetful lake benumb not still, 
 That in our proper motion we ascend 75 
 
 Up to our native seat ; descent and fall 
 To us is adverse. Who but felt of late, 
 When the fierce Foe hung on our broken rear 
 Insulting, and pursued us through the Deep, 
 With what compulsion and laborious flight 80 
 
 We sunk thus low ? The ascent is easy, then ; 
 The event is feared ! Should we again provoke 
 Our Stronger, some worse way His wrath may find 
 To our destruction, if there be in Hell 
 Fear to be worse destroyed ! What can be worse 85 
 Than to dwell here, driven out from bliss, con- 
 demned 
 
86 PABADISE LOST. 
 
 In this abhorred Deep to utter woe — 
 
 Where pain of unextinguishable fire 
 
 Must exercise us without hope of end, 
 
 The vassals of His anger, when the scourge 90 
 
 Inexorably, and the torturing hour, 
 
 Calls us to penance ? More destroyed than thus, 
 
 We should be quite abolished, and expire. 
 
 What fear we then ? what doubt we to incense 
 
 His utmost ire ? which, to the highth enraged, 95 
 
 Will either quite consume us, and reduce 
 
 To nothing this essential — happier far 
 
 Than miserable to have eternal being ! — 
 
 Or, if our substance be indeed divine, 
 
 And cannot cease to be, we are at worst 100 
 
 On this side nothing ; and by proof we feel 
 
 Our power sufficient to disturb His Heaven, 
 
 And with perpetual inroads to alarm, 
 
 Though inaccessible, His fatal throne ; 
 
 Which, if not victory, is yet revenge.' 105 
 
 He ended frowning, and his look denounced 
 
 Desperate revenge, and battle dangerous 
 
 „ ,. , To less than gods. On the other side uprose 
 
 Belial's ° r 
 
 suavity and Belial, in act more graceful and humane. 
 
 duplicity. a fairer person lost not Heaven ; he seemed no 
 
 For dignity composed, and high exploit, 
 
 But all was false and hollow, though his tongue 
 
 Dropped manna, and could make the worse appear 
 
 The better reason, to perplex and dash 
 
 Maturest counsels ; for his thoughts were low — 115 
 
 To vice industrious, but to nobler deeds 
 
 Timorous and slothful ; yet he pleased the ear, 
 
 And with persuasive accent thus began : — 
 
BOOK II. 87 
 
 < I should be much for open war, O Peers, 
 As not behind in hate, if what was urged 120 
 
 Main reason to persuade immediate war 
 Did not dissuade me most, and seem to cast 
 Ominous conjecture on the whole success — 
 When he who most excels in fact of arms, 
 In what he counsels and in what excels 125 
 
 Mistrustful, grounds his courage on despair 
 And utter dissolution, as the scope 
 Of all his aim, after some dire revenge. 
 First, what revenge ? The towers of Heaven are 
 
 filled 
 With armed watch, that render all access 130 
 
 Impregnable ; oft on the bordering Deep 
 Encamp their legions, or with obscure wing- 
 Scout far and wide into the realm of Night, 
 Scorning surprise. Or could we break our way 
 By force, and at our heels all Hell should rise 135 
 With blackest insurrection, to confound 
 Heaven's purest light, yet our great Enemy, 
 All incorruptible, would on His throne 
 Sit unpolluted, and the ethereal mold, 
 Incapable of stain, would soon expel 140 
 
 Her mischief, and purge off the baser fire, 
 Victorious. Thus repulsed, our final hope 
 Is flat despair ; we must exasperate 
 The Almighty Victor to spend all His rage, 
 And that must end us ; that must be our cure — 145 
 To be no more. Sad cure ! for who would lose, 
 Though full of pain, this intellectual being, 
 Those thoughts that wander through eternity, 
 To perish rather, swallowed up and lost 
 
88 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 In the wide womb of uncreated Night, 150 
 
 Devoid of sense and motion ? And who knows, 
 Let this be good, whether our angry Foe 
 Can give it, or will ever? How He can 
 Is doubtful ; that He never will is sure. 
 Will He, so wise, let loose at once His ire, 155 
 
 Belike through impotence, or unaware, 
 To give His enemies their wish, and end 
 Them in His anger whom His anger saves 
 To punish endless ? " Wherefore cease we then ? " 
 Say they who counsel war ; " we are decreed, igo 
 Eeserved, and destined to eternal woe ; 
 Whatever doing, what can we suffer more, 
 What can we suffer worse ? " Is this then worst — 
 Thus sitting, thus consulting, thus in arms ? 
 What when we fled amain, pursued and struck 165 
 With Heaven's afflicting thunder, and besought 
 The Deep to shelter us '. 5?his Hell then seemed 
 A refuge from those wounds. Or when we lay 
 Chained on the burning lake ? That sure was 
 
 worse. 
 What if the breath that kindled those grim 
 
 fires, 170 
 
 Awaked, should blow them into sevenfold rage, 
 And plunge us in the flames ? or from above 
 Should intermitted vengeance arm again 
 His red right hand to plague us ? What if all 
 Her stores were opened, and this firmament 175 
 Of Hell should spout her cataracts of fire, 
 Impendent horrors, threatening hideous fall 
 One day upon our heads ; while we perhaps, 
 Designing or exhorting glorious war, 
 
BOOK II. 89 
 
 Caught in a fiery tempest, shall be hurled iso 
 
 Each on his rock transfixed, the sport and prey 
 
 Of racking whirlwinds, or for ever sunk tbe omnipo . 
 
 Under yon boiling ocean, wrapped in chains, tence of God, 
 
 There to converse with everlasting groans, and advocates 
 
 submission 
 Unrespited, unpitied, unreprieved, 185 and hopeful 
 
 Ages of hopeless end ? This would be worse. waiting. 
 
 War, therefore, open or concealed, alike 
 
 My voice dissuades ; for what can force or guile 
 
 With Him, or who deceive His mind, whose eye 
 
 Views all things at one view ! He from Heaven's 
 
 highth 190 
 
 All these our motions vain sees and derides, 
 Not more almighty to resist our might 
 Than wise to frustrate all our plots and wiles. 
 Shall we then live thus vile, the race of Heaven 
 Thus trampled, thus expelled, to suffer here 195 
 Chains and these torments? Better these than 
 
 worse, 
 By my advice ; since fate inevitable 
 Subdues us, and omnipotent decree, 
 The Victor's will. To suffer, as to do, 
 Our strength is equal ; nor the law unjust 200 
 
 That so ordains. This w r as at first resolved, 
 If we were wise, against so great a Foe 
 Contending, and so doubtful what might fall. 
 I laugh, when those who at the spear are bold 
 And venturous, if that fail them, shrink, and 
 
 fear 205 
 
 What yet they know must follow — to endure 
 Exile, or ignominy, or bonds, or pain, 
 The sentence of their Conqueror. This is now 
 
90 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Our doom ; which if we can sustain and bear, 
 
 Our Supreme Foe in time may much remit 210 
 
 His anger, and perhaps, thus far removed, 
 
 Not mind us not offending, satisfied 
 
 With what is punished ; whence these raging fires 
 
 Will slacken, if his breath stir not their flames. 
 
 Our purer essence then will overcome 215 
 
 Their noxious vapor ; or, inured, not feel ; 
 
 Or, changed at length, and to the place conformed 
 
 In temper and in nature, will receive 
 
 Familiar the fierce heat, and void of pain ; 
 
 This horror will grow mild, this darkness light ; 220 
 
 Besides what hope the never-ending flight 
 
 Of future days may bring, what chance, what 
 
 change 
 Worth waiting — 'since our present lot appears 
 For happy though but ill, for ill not worst, 
 If we procure not to ourselves more woe.' 225 
 
 Thus Belial, with words clothed in reason's 
 garb, 
 Counseled ignoble ease and peaceful sloth, 
 Not peace ; and after him thus Mammon spake : — 
 
 « Either to disenthrone the King of Heaven 
 We war, if war be best, or to regain 230 
 
 Our own right lost. Him to unthrone we then 
 May hope, when everlasting Fate shall yield 
 To fickle Chance, and Chaos judge the strife. 
 The former, vain to hope, argues as vain 
 The latter ; for what place can be for us 235 
 
 Within Heaven's bound, unless Heaven's Lord 
 
 Supreme 
 We overpower? Suppose He should relent, 
 
BOOK II. 91 
 
 And publish grace to all, on promise made 
 
 Of new subjection ; with what eyes could we 
 
 Stand in His presence humble, and receive 240 
 
 Strict laws imposed, to celebrate His throne 
 
 With warbled hymns, and to His Godhead sing 
 
 Forced halleluiahs, while He lordly sits 
 
 Our envied Sovran, and His altar breathes 
 
 Ambrosial odors and ambrosial flowers, 245 
 
 Our servile offerings ? This must be our task 
 
 In Heaven, this our delight. How wearisome 
 
 Eternity so spent, in worship paid 
 
 To whom we hate ! Let us not then pursue — 
 
 By force impossible, by leave obtained 250 
 
 Unacceptable — though in Heaven, our state 
 
 Of splendid vassalage ; but rather seek 
 
 Our own good from ourselves, and from our own 
 
 Live to ourselves, though in this vast recess, 
 
 Free, and to none accountable, preferring 255 
 
 Hard liberty before the easy yoke 
 
 Of servile pomp. Our greatness will appear 
 
 Then most conspicuous, when great things of small, 
 
 Useful of hurtful, prosperous of adverse, 
 
 We can create, and in what place soe'er 260 Mammon 
 
 , . counsels in- 
 
 Thrive under evil, and work ease out of pain, dependence, 
 
 Through labor and endurance. This deep world organization, 
 
 Of darkness do we dread ? How oft amidst on en - 
 
 ment with 
 
 Thick clouds and dark doth Heaven's all-ruling their lot. 
 
 Sire 
 Choose to reside, His glory unobscured, 265 
 
 And with the majesty of darkness round 
 Covers His throne, from whence deep thunders 
 
 roar, 
 
92 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Mammon's 
 
 speech 
 
 applauded. 
 
 Mustering their rage, and Heaven resembles Hell ! 
 As He our darkness, cannot we His light 
 Imitate when we please ? This desert soil 270 
 
 Wants not her hidden lustre, gems and gold ; 
 Nor want we skill or art from whence to raise 
 Magnificence ; and what can Heaven show more ? 
 Our torments also may in length of time 
 Become our elements, these piercing fires 275 
 
 As soft as now severe, our temper changed 
 Into their temper ; which must needs remove 
 The sensible of pain. All things invite 
 To peaceful counsels, and the settled state 
 Of order, how in safety best we may 280 
 
 Compose our present evils, with regard 
 Of what we are, and where, dismissing quite 
 All thoughts of war. Ye have what I advise.' 
 He scarce had finished, when such murmur 
 filled 
 The assembly, as when hollow rocks retain 285 
 The sound of blustering winds, which all night long 
 Had roused the sea, now with hoarse cadence lull 
 Seafaring men o'erwatched, whose bark by chance, 
 Or pinnace, anchors in a craggy bay 
 After the tempest. Such applause was heard 290 
 As Mammon ended, and his sentence pleased, 
 Advising peace : for such another field 
 They dreaded worse than Hell ; so much the fear 
 Of thunder and the sword of Michael 
 Wrought still within them ; and no less desire 295 
 To found this nether empire, which might rise, 
 By policy and long process of time, 
 In emulation opposite to Heaven. 
 
BOOK II. 93 
 
 Which when Beelzebub perceived — than whom, 
 Satan except, none higher sat — with grave 300 
 Aspect he rose, and in his rising seemed 
 A pillar of state. Deep on his front engraven 
 Deliberation sat, and public care ; 
 
 And princely counsel in his face yet shone, Description of 
 
 Majestic, though in ruin. Sage he stood, 305 Beelzebub. 
 
 With Atlantean shoulders fit to bear 
 The weight of mightiest monarchies ; his look 
 Drew audience and attention still as night 
 Or summer's noontide air, while thus he spake : — 
 
 1 Thrones and Imperial Powers, Offspring of 
 Heaven, 310 
 
 Ethereal Virtues ! or these titles now 
 Must we renounce, and, changing style, be called 
 Princes of Hell ? for so the popular vote 
 Inclines, here to continue, and build up here 
 A growing empire ; doubtless ! while we dream, 315 
 And know not that the King of Heaven hath 
 
 doomed 
 This place our dungeon — not our safe retreat 
 Beyond His potent arm, to live exempt 
 From Heaven's high jurisdiction, in new league 
 Banded against His throne, but to remain 320 
 
 In strictest bondage, though thus far removed, 
 Under the inevitable curb reserved 
 His captive multitude. For He, be sure, 
 In highth or depth, still first and last will reign 
 Sole King, and of His kingdom lose no part 325 
 By our revolt, but over Hell extend 
 His empire, and with iron sceptre rule 
 Us here, as with His golden those in Heaven. 
 
94 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Beelzebub 
 suggests 
 the invasion 
 of Man's 
 world. 
 
 330 
 
 will be 
 
 335 
 
 What sit we then projecting peace and war? 
 War hath determined us, and foiled with loss 
 Irreparable ; terms of peace yet none 
 Vouchsafed or sought ; for what peace 
 
 given 
 To us enslaved, but custody severe, 
 And stripes, and arbitrary punishment 
 Inflicted ? and what peace can we return, 
 But, to our power, hostility and hate, 
 Untamed reluctance, and revenge, though slow, 
 Yet ever plotting how the Conqueror least 
 May reap His conquest, and may least rejoice 
 In doing what we most in suffering feel ? 340 
 
 Nor will occasion want, nor shall we need 
 With dangerous expedition to invade 
 Heaven, whose high walls fear no assault or siege, 
 Or ambush from the Deep. What if we find 
 Some easier enterprise ? There is a place 345 
 
 (If ancient and prophetic fame in Heaven 
 Err not) — another World, the happy seat 
 Of some new race called Man, about this time 
 To be created like to us, though less 
 In power and excellence, but favored more 
 Of Him who rules above ; so was His will 
 Pronounced among the gods, and by an oath, 
 That shook Heaven's whole circumference, 
 
 firmed. 
 Thither let us bend all our thoughts, to learn 
 What creatures there inhabit, of what mold 
 Or substance, how endued, and what their power, 
 And where their weakness, how attempted best, 
 By force or subtlety. Though Heaven be shut, 
 
 350 
 
 355 
 
BOOK II. 95 
 
 And Heaven's high Arbitrator sit secure 
 
 In His own strength, this place may lie exposed, 360 
 
 The utmost border of His kingdom, left 
 
 To their defense who hold it. Here perhaps 
 
 Some advantageous act may be achieved 
 
 By sudden onset — either with Hell-fire 
 
 To waste His whole creation, or possess 365 
 
 All as our own, and drive, as we were driven, 
 
 The puny habitants ; or, if not drive, 
 
 Seduce them to our party, that their God 
 
 May prove their Foe, and with repenting hand 
 
 Abolish His own works. This would surpass 370 
 
 Common revenge, and interrupt His joy 
 
 In our confusion, and our joy upraise 
 
 In His disturbance, when His darling sons, 
 
 Hurled headlong to partake with us, shall curse 
 
 Their frail original, and faded bliss — 375 
 
 Faded so soon. Advise if this be worth 
 
 Attempting, or to sit in darkness here 
 
 Hatching vain empires.' 
 
 Thus Beelzebub Beelzebub's 
 
 Pleaded his devilish counsel — first devised plan, devised 
 
 By Satan, and in part proposed ; for whence, 380 by Satan, is 
 
 RpplcHldCQ. 
 
 But from the author of all ill, could spring 
 
 So deep a malice, to confound the race 
 
 Of mankind in one root, and Earth with Hell 
 
 To mingle and involve, done all to spite 
 
 The great Creator ? But their spite still serves 385 
 
 His glory to augment. The bold design 
 
 Pleased highly those Infernal States, and joy 
 
 Sparkled in all their eyes ; with full assent 
 
 They vote ; whereat his speech he thus renews : — 
 
96 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 ' Well have ye judged, well ended long de- 
 bate, 390 
 Synod of gods, and, like to what ye are, 
 Great things resolved, which from the lowest deep 
 Will once more lift us up, in spite of fate, 
 Nearer our ancient seat — perhaps in view 
 Of those bright confines, whence, with neighbor- 
 ing arms, 395 
 And opportune excursion, we may chance 
 Reenter Heaven ; or else in some mild zone 
 Dwell, not unvisited of Heaven's fair light, 
 Secure, and at the brightening orient beam 
 puts question Purge off this gloom ; the soft delicious air, 400 
 who shall first To heal the scar of these corrosive fires, 
 world Shall breathe her balm. But first, whom shall we 
 send 
 In search of this new World ? whom shall we find 
 Sufficient ? who shall tempt with wandering feet 
 The dark, unbottomed, infinite Abyss, 405 ( 
 And through the palpable obscure find out 
 His uncouth way, or spread his aery flight, 
 Upborne with indefatigable wings, 
 Over the vast Abrupt, ere he arrive 
 The happy Isle ? What strength, what art, can then 
 Suffice, or what evasion bear him safe 411 
 Through the strict senteries and stations thick 
 Of Angels watching round ? Here he had need 
 All circumspection, and we now no less 
 Choice in our suffrage ; for on whom we send, 415 
 The weight of all, and our last hope, relies.' 
 
 This said, he sat ; and expectation held 
 His look suspense, awaiting who appeared 
 
BOOK II. 97 
 
 To second, or oppose, or undertake A11 are silent, 
 
 The perilous attempt — but all sat mute, 420 begin g ^ 
 
 Pondering the danger with deep thoughts ; and each speak. 
 In other's countenance read his own dismay, 
 Astonished. None among the choice and prime 
 Of those Heaven-warring champions could be found 
 So hardy as to proffer or accept, 425 
 
 Alone, the dreadful voyage — till at last 
 Satan, whom now transcendent glory raised 
 Above his fellows, with monarchal pride, 
 Conscious of highest worth, unmoved thus spake : — 
 ' O Progeny of Heaven ! Empyreal Thrones ! 430 
 AVith reason hath deep silence and demur 
 Seized us, though undismayed. Long is the way 
 And hard, that out of Hell leads up to light. 
 Our prison strong, this huge convex of fire 
 Outrageous to devour, immures us round 435 
 
 Ninefold ; and gates of burning adamant, 
 Barred over us, prohibit all egress. 
 These passed, if any pass, the void profound 
 Of unessential Night receives him next, 
 Wide-gaping, and with utter loss of being 440 
 
 Threatens him, plunged in that abortive Gulf. H ... 
 
 If thence he scape, into whatever world upon the 
 
 Or unknown region, what remains him less danger, but 
 
 Than unknown dangers, and as hard escape? brave it alone. 
 
 But I should ill become this throne, O Peers, 445 
 And this imperial sovranty, adorned 
 With splendor, armed with power, if aught proposed 
 And judged of public moment, in the shape 
 Of difficulty or danger, could deter 
 Me from attempting. Wherefore do I assume 450 
 
98 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 These royalties, and not refuse to reign, 
 Refusing to accept as great a share 
 Of hazard as of honor, due alike 
 To him who reigns, and so much to him due 
 Of hazard more, as he above the rest 455 
 
 High honored sits ? Go, therefore, mighty Powers, 
 Terror of Heaven, though fallen ; intend at home — 
 While here shall be our home — what best may ease 
 The present misery, and render Hell 
 More tolerable, — if there be cure or charm 460 
 To respite, or deceive, or slack the pain 
 Of this ill mansion ; intermit no watch 
 Against a wakeful Foe, while I abroad 
 Through all the coasts of dark destruction seek 
 Deliverance for us all. This enterprise 465 
 
 None shall partake with me.' 
 The assembly Thus saying, rose 
 
 rises, and all Th Monarch and prev ented all reply; 
 extol their ' r . . ' 
 
 leader. Prudent lest, from his resolution raised, 
 
 Others among the chief might offer now — 
 Certain to be refused — what erst they feared ; 470 
 And, so refused, might in opinion stand 
 His rivals, winning cheap the high repute 
 Which he through hazard huge must earn. But they 
 Dreaded not more the adventure than his voice 
 Forbidding ; and at once with him they rose. 475 
 Their rising all at once was as the sound 
 Of thunder heard remote. Towards him they bend 
 With awful reverence prone ; and as a god 
 Extol him equal to the Highest in Heaven. 
 Nor failed they to express how much they praised 
 That for the general safety he despised 481 
 
concord of 
 devils shames 
 
 book ii. y- 
 
 His own ; for neither do the Spirits damned 
 Lose all their virtue, — lest bad men should boast 
 Their specious deeds on earth, which glory excites, 
 Or close ambition varnished o'er with zeal. 485 
 
 Thus they their doubtful consultations dark 
 Ended, rejoicing in their matchless Chief : 
 As when from mountain-tops the dusky clouds 
 Ascending, while the north wind sleeps, o'erspread 
 Heaven's cheerful face, the lowering element 490 
 Scowls o'er the darkened landscape snow or shower; get after 
 If chance the radiant sun, with farewell sweet, storm ; the 
 Extend his evening beam, the fields revive, 
 The birds their notes renew, and bleating herds the dissen 
 Attest their joy, that hill and valley rings. 495 sions of men. 
 
 O shame to men ! devil with devil damned 
 Firm concord holds ; men only disagree 
 Of creatures rational, though under hope 
 Of heavenly grace, and, God proclaiming peace, 
 Yet live in hatred, enmity, and strife 500 
 
 Among themselves, and levy cruel wars 
 Wasting the earth, each other to destroy ; 
 As if — which might induce us to accord — 
 Man had not hellish foes enow besides, 
 That day and night for his destruction wait ! 505 
 
 The Stygian council thus dissolved, and forth 
 
 In order came the grand Infernal Peers; 
 
 Midst came their mighty Paramount, and seemed 
 
 Alone the antagonist of Heaven, nor less 
 
 Than Hell's dread Emperor, with pomp supreme, 
 
 And godlike imitated state ; him round 511 
 
 A globe of fiery Seraphim enclosed 
 
 ° J Proclamation 
 
 With bright emblazonry and horrent arms. f t he result 
 
100 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 The diver- 
 sions of the 
 fallen Angels. 
 
 Then of their session ended they bid cry 
 With trumpet's regal sound the great result ; 515 
 Toward the four winds four speedy Cherubim 
 Put to their mouths the sounding alchemy, 
 By herald's voice explained ; the hollow Abyss 
 Heard far and wide, and all the host of Hell 
 With deafening shout returned them loud acclaim. 
 Thence more at ease their minds, and somewhat 
 raised 521 
 
 By false presumptuous hope, the ranged Powers 
 Disband, and, wandering, each his several way 
 Pursues, as inclination or sad choice 
 Leads him perplexed, where he may likeliest find 
 Truce to his restless thoughts, and entertain 526 
 The irksome hours till his great Chief return. 
 Part on the plain, or in the air sublime, 
 Upon the wing or in swift race contend, 
 As at the Olympian games or Pythian fields ; 530 
 Part curb their fiery steeds, or shun the goal 
 With rapid wheels, or fronted brigades form. 
 As when, to warn proud cities, war appears 
 Waged in the troubled sky, and armies rush 
 To battle in the clouds, before each van 535 
 
 Prick forth the aery knights, and couch their spears, 
 Till thickest legions close ; with feats of arms 
 From either end of Heaven the welkin burns. 
 Others, with vast Typhcean rage, more fell, 
 Rend up both rocks and hills, and ride the air 540 
 In whirlwind ; Hell scarce holds the wild uproar ; — 
 As when Alcides from (Echalia crowned 
 With conquest, felt the envenomed robe, and tore, 
 Through pain, up by the roots Thessalian pines, 
 
BOOK II. 101 
 
 And Lichas from the top of (Eta threw 545 
 
 Into the Euboic sea. 
 
 Others, more mild, 
 Retreated in a silent valley, sing 
 With notes angelical to many a harp 
 Their own heroic deeds, and hapless fall 
 By doom of battle ; and complain that Fate 550 
 Free virtue should enthral to Force or Chance. 
 Their song was partial ; but the harmony 
 (What could it less when Spirits immortal sing ?) 
 Suspended Hell, and took with ravishment 
 The thronging audience. In discourse more sweet 
 (For eloquence the soul, song charms the sense) 556 
 Others apart sat on a hill retired, 
 In thoughts more elevate, and reasoned high 
 Of providence, foreknowledge, will, and fate — 
 Fixed fate, free will, foreknowledge absolute — 560 
 And found no end, in wandering mazes lost. 
 Of good and evil much they argued then, 
 Of happiness and final misery, 
 Passion and apathy, and glory and shame — 
 Vain wisdom all, and false philosophy ; 565 
 
 Yet, with a pleasing sorcery, could charm 
 Pain for awhile or anguish, and excite 
 Fallacious hope, or arm the obdured breast 
 With stubborn patience as with triple steel. 
 
 Another part, in squadrons and gross bands, 570 
 On bold adventure to discover wide 
 That dismal world, if any clime perhaps 
 Might yield them easier habitation, bend 
 Four ways their flying march, along the banks 
 Of four infernal rivers, that disgorge 575 
 
102 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Into the burning lake their baleful streams — 
 
 Abhorred Styx, the flood of deadly hate ; 
 
 Sad Acheron, of sorrow, black and deep ; 
 
 Cocytus, named of lamentation loud 
 
 Heard on the rueful stream ; fierce Phlegethon, 580 
 
 The explora- wh f torrent fi re inflame with rage, 
 
 tion of the in- ° 
 
 fernal regions. Far off from these, a slow and silent stream, 
 
 Lethe, the river of oblivion, rolls 
 
 Her watery labyrinth, whereof who drinks 
 
 Forthwith his former state and being forgets, 585 
 
 Forgets both joy and grief, pleasure and pain. 
 
 Beyond this flood a frozen continent 
 
 Lies dark and wild, beat with perpetual storms 
 
 Of whirlwind and dire hail, which on firm land 
 
 Thaws not, but gathers heap, and ruin seems 590 
 
 Of ancient pile ; all else deep snow and ice, 
 
 A gulf profound as that Serbonian bog 
 
 Betwixt Damiata and Mount Casius old, 
 
 Where armies whole have sunk ; the parching air 
 
 Burns f rore, and cold performs the effect of fire. 595 
 
 Thither, by harpy-footed Furies haled, 
 
 At certain revolutions all the damned 
 
 Are brought, and feel by turns the bitter change 
 
 Of fierce extremes, extremes by change more fierce : 
 
 From beds of raging fire to starve in ice 600 
 
 Their soft ethereal warmth, and there to pine 
 
 Immovable, infixed, and frozen round, 
 
 Periods of time, — thence hurried back to fire. 
 
 They ferry over this Lethean sound 
 
 Both to and fro, their sorrow to augment, 605 
 
 And wish and struggle, as they pass, to reach 
 
 The tempting stream, with one small drop to lose 
 
BOOK II. 103 
 
 In sweet forgetfulness all pain and woe, 
 
 All in one moment, and so near the brink ; 
 
 But Fate withstands, and to oppose the attempt 610 
 
 Medusa with Gorgonian terror guards 
 
 The ford, and of itself the water flies 
 
 All taste of living wight, as once it fled 
 
 The lip of Tantalus. Thus roving on 
 
 In confused march forlorn, the adventurous bands 
 
 With shuddering horror pale, and eyes aghast, gig 
 
 Viewed first their lamentable lot, and found 
 
 No rest. Through many a dark and dreary vale 
 
 They passed, and many a region dolorous, 
 
 O'er many a frozen, many a fiery Alp, 620 
 
 Rocks, caves, lakes, fens, bogs, dens, and shades of 
 
 death, — 
 A universe of death, which God by curse 
 Created evil, for evil only good, 
 Where all life dies, death lives, and Nature breeds, 
 Perverse, all monstrous, all prodigious things, 625 
 Abominable, inutterable, and worse 
 Than fables yet have feigned, or fear conceived, 
 Gorgons, and Hydras, and Chimaeras dire. 
 
 Meanwhile, the Adversary of God and Man, 629 
 Satan, with thoughts inflamed of highest design, 
 Puts on swift wings, and toward the gates of Hell Satan's flight. 
 Explores his solitary flight ; sometimes 
 He scours the right-hand coast, sometimes the left ; 
 Now shaves with level wing the deep, then soars 
 Up to the fiery concave towering high. 635 
 
 As when far off at sea a fleet descried 
 Hangs in the clouds, by equinoctial winds 
 
104 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Close sailing from Bengala, or the isles 
 Of Ternate and Tidore, whence merchants bring 
 Their spicy drugs ; they on the trading flood, 640 
 Through the wide Ethiopian to the Cape, 
 Ply stemming nightly toward the pole ; so seemed 
 Far off the flying fiend. At last appear 
 Hell-bounds, high reaching to the horrid roof, 
 And thrice threefold the gates ; three folds were 
 brass, 645 
 
 Three iron, three of adamantine rock, 
 Impenetrable, impaled with circling fire, 
 Yet unconsumed. 
 
 Before the gates there sat 
 On either side a formidable Shape. 
 The one seemed woman to the waist, and fair, 650 
 But ended foul in many a scaly fold 
 Voluminous and vast — a serpent armed 
 With mortal sting. About her middle round 
 A cry of Hell-hounds never-ceasing barked 654 
 
 With wide Cerberean mouths full loud, and rung 
 A hideous peal ; yet, when they list, would creep, 
 The serpent- Jf ht disturbed their noise, into her womb, 
 
 woman at the ° 
 
 gates. And kennel there ; yet there still barked and howled, 
 
 Within unseen. Far less abhorred than these 
 
 Vexed Scylla, bathing in the sea that parts 660 
 
 Calabria from the hoarse Trinacrian shore ; 
 
 Nor uglier follow the night-hag, when, called 
 
 In secret, riding through the air she conies, 
 
 Lured with the smell of infant blood, to dance 
 
 With Lapland witches, while the laboring moon 665 
 
 Eclipses at their charms. 
 
 The other Shape — 
 
BOOK II. 105 
 
 If shape it might be called that shape had none 
 
 Distinguishable in member, joint, or limb ; 
 
 Or substance might be called that shadow seemed, 
 
 For each seemed either — black it stood as Night, 
 
 Fierce as ten Furies, terrible as Hell, 671 
 
 And shook a dreadful dart ; what seemed his head 
 
 The likeness of a kingly crown had on. 
 
 Satan was now at hand, and from his seat 
 
 The monster moving onward came as fast 675 „ 
 
 ° Her com- 
 
 With horrid strides ; Hell trembled as he strode, panion, the 
 
 The undaunted Fiend what this might be ad- shadowy 
 . , king, 
 
 mired — 
 
 Admired, not feared (God and his Son except, 
 
 Created thing naught valued he, nor shunned), 
 
 And with disdainful look thus first began : — 680 
 
 - Whence and what art thou, execrable Shape, 
 
 That dar'st, though grim and terrible, advance 
 
 Th}* miscreated front athwart my way 
 
 To yonder gates ? Through them I mean to pass, 
 
 That be assured, without leave asked of thee ; 685 
 
 Retire, or taste thy folly, and learn by proof, 
 
 Hell-born, not to contend with Spirits of Heaven.' 
 
 Satan's de- 
 To whom the Goblin, full of wrath, replied : — fiance of the 
 
 « Art thou that Traitor Angel, art thou he 689 phantom. 
 
 Who first broke peace in Heaven and faith, till then 
 
 Unbroken, and in proud rebellious arms 
 
 Drew after him the third part of Heaven's Sons 
 
 Conjured against the Highest — for which both thou 
 
 And they, outcast from God, are here condemned 
 
 To waste eternal days in woe and pain ? 695 gC0 rjf f ul 
 
 And reckon'st thou thyself with Spirits of Heaven, retort. 
 
 Hell-doomed, and breath'st defiance here and scorn, 
 
106 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Where I reign king, and, to enrage thee more, 
 Thy king and lord ? Back to thy punishment, 
 False fugitive, and to thy speed add wings, too 
 
 Lest with a whip of scorpions I pursue 
 Thy lingering, or with one stroke of this dart 
 Strange horror seize thee, and pangs unf elt before ! ' 
 
 So spake the grisly Terror, and in shape, 
 So speaking and so threatening, grew tenfold 705 
 More dreadful and deform. On the other side, 
 Incensed with indignation, Satan stood 
 Unterrified, and like a comet burned, 
 That fires the length of Ophiuchus huge 
 
 They prepare I n the Arctic sky, and from his horrid hair 710 
 Shakes pestilence and war. Each at the head 
 Leveled his deadly aim ; their fatal hands 
 No second stroke intend ; and such a frown 
 Each cast at the other, as when two black clouds, 
 With Heaven's artillery fraught, come rattling on 
 Over the Caspian, then stand front to front, 716 
 Hovering a space, till winds the signal blow 
 To join their dark encounter in mid-air. 
 So frowned the mighty combatants, that Hell 
 Grew darker at their frown ; so matched they stood ; 
 For never but once more was either like 721 
 
 To meet so great a foe. 
 
 And now great deeds 
 Had been achieved, whereof all Hell had rung, 
 Had not the snaky sorceress, that sat 
 Fast by Hell-gate and kept the fatal key, 725 
 
 The snaky Risen, and with hideous outcry rushed between. 
 
 1 father, what intends thy hand,' she cried, 
 interposes. J 
 
 < Against thy only son ? What fury, O son, 
 
BOOK II. 107 
 
 Possesses thee to bend that mortal dart 
 Against thy father's head ? And know'st for whom ? 
 For Him who sits above, and laughs the while 731 
 At thee, ordained His drudge, to execute 
 Whate'er His wrath, which He calls justice, bids — 
 His wrath, which one day will destroy ye both.' 
 
 She spake, and at her words the hellish Pest 735 
 Forbore ; then these to her Satan returned : — 
 < So strange thy outcry, and thy words so strange 
 Thou interposest, that my sudden hand, 
 Prevented, spares to tell thee yet by deeds 
 What it intends, till first I know of thee, 740 t ^ ^ h ^ eS ' 
 
 What thing thou art, thus double-formed, and why, 
 In this infernal vale first met, thou call'st 
 Me father, and that phantasm call'st my son. 
 I know thee not, nor ever saw till now 
 Sight more detestable than him and thee.' 745 
 
 To whom thus the Portress of Hell-gate replied : 
 1 Hast thou forgot me, then, and do I seem 
 Now in thine eye so foul ? — once deemed so fair 
 In Heaven, when at the assembly, and in sight 
 Of all the Seraphim with thee combined 750 
 
 In bold conspiracy against Heaven's King, 
 All on a sudden miserable pain 
 Surprised thee, dim thine eyes and dizzy swum 
 In darkness, while thy head flames thick and fast 
 Threw forth ; till, on the left side opening wide, 755 
 Likest to thee in shape and countenance bright, Sin recounts 
 Then shining heavenly fair, a goddess armed, W ith Satan 
 
 Out of thy head I sprung. Amazement seized and the origin 
 All the host of Heaven ; back they recoiled afraid of Deatu - 
 At first, and called me Sin, and for a sign 760 
 
108 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Portentous held me ; but, familiar grown, 
 I pleased, and with attractive graces won 
 The most averse — thee chiefly, who, full oft 
 Thyself in me thy perfect image viewing, 
 Becam'st enamored ; and such joy thou took'st 765 
 With me in secret, that my womb conceived 
 A growing burden. Meanwhile war arose, 
 And fields were fought in Heaven ; wherein re- 
 mained 
 (For what could else ? ) to our Almighty Foe 
 Clear victory, to our part loss and rout 770 
 
 Through all the Empyrean. Down they fell, 
 Driven headlong from the pitch of Heaven, down 
 Into this Deep ; and in the general fall 
 I also ; at which time this powerful key 
 Into my hand was given, with charge to keep 775 
 These gates for ever shut, which none can pass 
 Without my opening. Pensive here I sat 
 Alone ; but long I sat not, till my womb, 
 Pregnant by thee, and now excessive grown, 
 Prodigious motion felt, and rueful throes. 780 
 
 At last this odious offspring whom thou seest, 
 Thine own begotten, breaking violent way, 
 Tore through my entrails, that, with fear and pain 
 Distorted, all my nether shape thus grew 
 Transformed ; but he, my inbred enemy, 785 
 
 Forth issued, brandishing his fatal dart, 
 Made to destroy. I fled, and cried out, < Death ! ' 
 Hell trembled at the hideous name, and sighed 
 From all her caves, and back resounded, ' Death ! ' 
 I fled ; but he pursued (though more, it seems, 790 
 Inflamed with lust than rage), and, swifter far, 
 
BOOK II. 109 
 
 Me overtook, his mother, all dismayed, 
 
 And in embraces forcible and foul 
 
 Engendering with me, of that rape begot 
 
 These yelling monsters, that with ceaseless cry 795 
 
 Surround me, as thou saw'st — hourly conceived 
 
 And hourly born, with sorrow infinite 
 
 To me ; for, when they list, into the womb 
 
 That bred them they return, and howl, and gnaw 
 
 My bowels, their repast ; then, bursting forth 800 
 
 Afresh, with conscious terrors vex me round, 
 
 That rest or intermission none I find. 
 
 Before mine eyes in opposition sits 
 
 Grim Death, my son and foe, who sets them on, 
 
 And me his parent would full soon devour 805 
 
 For want of other prey, but that he knows 
 
 His end with mine involved, and knows that I 
 
 Should prove a bitter morsel, and his bane, 
 
 Whenever that shall be ; so Fate pronounced. 
 
 But thou, O father, I forewarn thee, shun 810 
 
 His deadly arrow ; neither vainly hope 
 
 To be invulnerable in those bright arms, 
 
 Though tempered heavenly ; for that mortal dint, 
 
 Save He who reigns above, none can resist.' 
 
 She finished ; and the subtle Fiend his lore 815 
 Soon learned, now milder, and thus answered 
 
 smooth : — 
 ' Dear daughter — since thou claim'st me for thy 
 
 sire, 
 
 And my fair son here show'st me, the dear pledge 
 
 Of dalliance had with thee in Heaven, and joys * a c ™ p ^" 
 
 ' J J suades Sin 
 
 Then sweet, now sad to mention, through dire and Death to 
 change 820 allow his exit. 
 
110 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Befallen us unforeseen, unthought-of — know 
 I come no enemy, but to set free 
 From out this dark and dismal house of pain 
 Both him and thee, and all the heavenly host 
 Of Spirits, that, in our just pretences armed, 825 
 Fell with us from on high. From them I go 
 This uncouth errand sole, and, one for all, 
 Myself expose, with lonely steps to tread 
 The unfounded Deep, and through the void im- 
 mense 
 To search, with wandering quest, a place foretold 
 Should be — and, by concurring signs, ere now 831 
 Created vast and round — a place of bliss 
 In the purlieus of Heaven ; and, therein placed, 
 A race of upstart creatures, to supply 834 
 
 Perhaps our vacant room, — though more removed, 
 Lest Heaven, surcharged with potent multitude, 
 Might hap to move new broils. Be this, or aught 
 Than this more secret, now designed, I haste 
 To know ; and, this-once known, shall soon return 
 And bring ye to the place where thou and Death 
 Shall dwell at ease, and up and down unseen 841 
 Wing silently the buxom air, embalmed 
 With odors. There ye shall be fed and filled 
 Immeasurably; all things shall be your prey.' 
 He ceased, for both seemed highly pleased, and 
 Death 845 
 
 Grinned horrible a ghastly smile, to hear 
 His famine should be filled, and blessed his maw 
 Destined to that good hour. No less rejoiced 
 His mother bad, and thus bespake her sire : — 
 i The key of this infernal Pit, by due 850 
 
BOOK II. Ill 
 
 And by command of Heaven's all-powerful King, Sin owns her 
 
 I keep, by Him forbidden to unlock the author of 
 
 These adamantine gates ; against all force her heing. 
 
 Death ready stands to interpose his dart, 
 
 Fearless to be o'ermatched by living might. 855 
 
 But what owe I to His commands above 
 
 Who hates me, and hath hither thrust me down 
 
 Into this gloom of Tartarus profound, 
 
 To sit in hateful office here confined, 
 
 Inhabitant of Heaven, and heavenly-born — 860 
 
 Here, in perpetual agony and pain, 
 
 With terrors and with clamors compassed round 
 
 Of mine own brood, that on my bowels feed ? 
 
 Thou art my father, thou my author, thou 
 
 My being gav'st me ; whom should I obey 865 
 
 But thee ? whom follow ? Thou wilt bring me soon 
 
 To that new world of light and bliss, among 
 
 The gods who live at ease, where I shall reign 
 
 At thy right hand voluptuous, as beseems 
 
 Thy daughter and thy darling, without end.' 870 
 
 Thus saying, from her side the fatal key, ga tes of Hell. 
 
 Sad instrument of all our woe, she took ; 
 And, towards the gate rolling her bestial train, 
 Forthwith the huge portcullis high updrew, 
 Which, but herself, not all the Stygian Powers 875 
 Could once have moved ; then in the keyhole turns 
 The intricate wards, and every bolt and bar 
 Of massy iron or solid rock with ease 
 Unfastens. On a sudden open fly, 
 With impetuous recoil and jarring sound, 880 
 
 The infernal doors, and on their hinges grate 
 Harsh thunder, that the lowest bottom shook 
 
112 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Of Erebus. She opened ; but to shut 
 Excelled her power. The gates wide open stood, 
 That with extended wings a bannered host, 885 
 Under spread ensigns marching, might pass 
 
 through, 
 With horse and chariots ranked in loose array ; 
 So wide they stood, and like a furnace-mouth 
 Cast forth redounding smoke and ruddy flame. 
 Before their eyes in sudden view appear 890 
 
 The secrets of the hoary Deep — a dark 
 Illimitable ocean, without bound, 
 Without dimension, where length, breadth, and 
 
 highth, 
 
 And time, and place, are lost ; where eldest Night 
 
 And Chaos, ancestors of Nature, hold 895 
 
 The ocean of 
 Chaos. Eternal anarchy, amidst the noise 
 
 Of endless wars, and by confusion stand. 
 
 For Hot, Cold, Moist, and Dry, four champions 
 
 fierce, 
 
 Strive here for mastery, and to battle bring 
 
 Their embryon atoms ; they around the flag 900 
 
 Of each his faction, in their several clans, 
 
 Light-armed or heavy, sharp, smooth, swift, or slow, 
 
 Swarm populous, unnumbered as the sands 
 
 Of Barca or Cyrene's torrid soil, 
 
 Levied to side with warring winds, and poise 905 
 
 Their lighter wings. To whom these most adhere, 
 
 He rules a moment ; Chaos umpire sits, 
 
 And by decision more embroils the fray 
 
 By which he reigns ; next him high arbiter, 
 
 Chance governs all. 
 
 Into this wild Abyss — 910 
 
BOOK II. 113 
 
 The womb of Nature, and perhaps her grave — 
 
 Of neither sea, nor shore, nor air, nor fire, 
 
 But all these in their pregnant causes mixed 
 
 Confusedly, and which thus must ever fight, 
 
 Unless the Almighty Maker them ordain 915 The terrors of 
 
 His dark materials to create more worlds, — 
 
 Into this wild Abyss the wary Fiend 
 
 Stood on the brink of Hell and looked a while, 
 
 Pondering his voyage ; for no narrow frith 
 
 He had to cross. Nor was his ear less pealed 920 
 
 With noises loud and ruinous — to compare 
 
 Great things with small — than when Bellona 
 
 storms 
 With all her battering engines, bent to raze 
 Some capital city ; or less than if this frame 
 Of Heaven were falling, and these elements 925 
 In mutiny had from her axle torn 
 The steadfast Earth. 
 
 At last his sail-broad vans 
 He spreads for flight, and, in the surging smoke 
 Uplifted, spurns the ground ; thence many a league, 
 As in a cloudy chair ascending rides 930 
 
 Audacious ; but, that seat soon failing, meets 
 A vast vacuity. All unawares, 
 Fluttering his pennons vain, plumb down he drops 
 Ten thousand fathom deep ; and to this hour 
 Down had been falling, had not, by ill chance, 935 some ancl 
 The strong rebuff of some tumultuous cloud, perilous 
 
 Instinct with fire and nitre, hurried him journey. 
 
 As many miles aloft. That fury stayed — 
 Quenched in a boggy Syrtis, neither sea 
 Nor good dry land — nigh foundered on he fares 
 
114 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Treading the crude consistence, half on foot, 941 
 Half flying ; behoves him now both oar and sail. 
 As when a griffin through the wilderness 
 With winged course, o'er hill or moory dale, 
 Pursues the Arimaspian, who by stealth 945 
 
 Had from his wakeful custody purloined 
 The guarded gold ; so eagerly the Fiend 
 O'er bog or steep, through straight, rough, dense, 
 
 or rare, 
 With head, hands, wings, or feet, pursues his way, 
 And swims, or sinks, or wades, or creeps, or flies. 
 At length a universal hubbub wild 951 
 
 Of stunning sounds, and voices all confused, 
 Borne through the hollow dark, assaults his ear 
 With loudest vehemence. Thither he plies 
 Undaunted, to meet there whatever Power 955 
 
 Or Spirit of the nethermost Abyss 
 Might in that noise reside, of whom to ask 
 Which way the nearest coast of darkness lies 
 Bordering on light — when straight behold the 
 
 throne 
 Of Chaos, and his dark pavilion spread 960 
 
 He arrives at Wide on the wasteful Deep ! With him enthroned 
 the throne of g t sable . vested Night eldest of things 
 Chaos and ° ° 
 
 Night. The consort of his reign ; and by them stood 
 
 Orcus and Ades, and the dreaded name 
 Of Demogorgon ; Rumor next, and Chance, 965 
 And Tumult, and Confusion, all embroiled, 
 And Discord with a thousand various mouths. 
 To whom Satan, turning boldly, thus : — 'Ye 
 Powers 
 And Spirits of this nethermost Abyss, 
 
BOOK II. 115 
 
 Chaos and ancient Night, I come no spy, 970 
 
 With purpose to explore or to disturb 
 
 The secrets of your realm ; but, by constraint 
 
 Wandering this darksome desert, as my way 
 
 Lies through your spacious empire up to light, 
 
 Alone and without guide, half lost, I seek 975 Satan offers 
 
 What readiest path leads where your gloomy bounds to brin s the 
 
 Confine with Heaven ; or, if some other place, un der their 
 
 From your dominion won, the Ethereal King dominion. 
 
 Possesses lately, thither to arrive 
 
 I travel this profound. Direct my course ; 980 
 
 Directed, no mean recompense it brings 
 
 To your behoof, if I that region lost, 
 
 All usurpation thence expelled, reduce 
 
 To her original darkness and your sway 
 
 (Which is my present journey), and once more 985 
 
 Erect the standard there of ancient Night. 
 
 Yours be the advantage all, mine the revenge.' 
 
 Thus Satan ; and him thus the Anarch old, 
 With faltering speech and visage incomposed, 
 Answered : ' I know thee, stranger, who thou art — 
 That mighty leading Angel, who of late 991 
 
 Made head against Heaven's King, though over- 
 thrown. 
 I saw and heard, for such a numerous host 
 Fled not in silence through the frighted Deep 
 With ruin upon ruin, rout on rout, 995 
 
 Confusion worse confounded ; and Heaven-gates 
 Poured out by millions her victorious bands, 
 Pursuing. I upon my frontiers here 
 Keep residence — if all I can will serve 
 That little which is left so to defend, 1000 
 
116 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Chaos directs Encroached on 
 
 his further 
 
 course. 
 
 Satan 
 
 resumes his 
 journey. 
 
 till through our intestine broils 
 Weak'ning the sceptre of old Night : — first. Hell, 
 Your dungeon, stretching far and wide beneath : 
 Now lately. Heaven and Earth, another "World. 
 Hung o'er my realm, linked in a golden chain 1005 
 To that side Heaven from whence your legions fell. 
 If that way be your walk, you have not far ; 
 So much the nearer danger. Go, and speed ; 
 Havoc, and spoil, and ruin are my gain.' 
 
 He ceased ; and Satan stayed not to reply, 1010 
 But. glad that now his sea should find a shore, 
 With fresh alacrity, and force renewed. 
 Springs upward like a pyramid of fire 
 Into the wild expanse, and. through the shock 
 Of fighting elements, on all sides round 1015 
 
 Environed, wins his way ; harder beset 
 And more endangered than when Argo passed 
 Through Bosporus, betwixt the jostling rocks. 
 Or when Ulysses on the larboard shunned 
 Charybdis. and by the other whirlpool steered. 1020 
 So he with difficulty and labor hard 
 Moved on, with difficulty and labor he : 
 But. he once passed, soon after, when man fell. 
 Strange alteration ! Sin and Death amain 
 Following his track (such was the will of Heaven), 
 Paved after him a broad and beaten way mbg 
 
 Over the dark Abyss, whose boiling gulf 
 Tamely endured a bridge of wondrous length. 
 From Hell continued, reaching the utmost orb 
 Of this frail World : by which the Spirits perverse 
 With easy intercourse pass to and fro 1031 
 
 To tempt or punish mortals, except whom 
 
BOOK II. 117 
 
 God and good Angels guard by special grace. 
 
 But now at last the sacred influence 
 Of light appears, and from the walls of Heaven 
 Shoots far into the bosom of dim Night 1036 
 
 A glimmering dawn. Here Xature first begins 
 Her farthest verge, and Chaos to retire, 
 As from her outmost works, a broken foe, 
 With tumult less, and with less hostile din ; 1040 
 That Satan with less toil, and now with ease, 
 Wafts on the calmer wave by dubious light, He at length 
 
 And, like a weather-beaten vessel, holds pauses, and 
 
 Gladly the port, though shrouds and tackle torn ; tnTn^ 1 *** 8 
 Or in the emptier waste, resembling air, 1045 world. 
 
 AVeighs his spread wings, at leisure to behold 
 Far off the empyreal Heaven, extended wide 
 In circuit, undetermined square or round, 
 AVith opal towers and battlements adorned 
 Of living sapphire, once his native seat ; 1050 
 
 And, fast by, hanging in a golden chain, 
 This pendent World, in bigness as a star 
 Of smallest magnitude close by the moon. 
 Thither, full fraught with mischievous revenge, 
 Accursed, and in a cursed hour, he hies. 1055 
 
NOTES. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 The Verse. Perhaps the hest illustration of Milton's meaning 
 may be found in a comparison of a passage from Paradise Lost with 
 Dryden's imitation of it in The Fall of Man. The lines are, P. L. 
 1 : 315-325: — 
 
 Princes, Potentates, 
 
 Warriors, the Flower of Heaven — once yours, now lost, 
 
 If such astonishment as this can seize 
 
 Eternal Spirits ! Or have ye chosen this place 
 
 After the toil of battle to repose 
 
 Your wearied virtue, for the ease you find 
 
 To slumber here, as in the vales of Heaven? 
 
 Or in this abject posture have ye sworn 
 
 To adore the Conqueror, who now beholds 
 
 Cherub and Seraph rolling in the flood 
 
 With scattered arms and ensigns ? 
 
 The passage from Dryden is : — 
 
 Dominions, Powers, ye chiefs of Heaven's bright host 
 (Of Heaven, once yours ; but now in battle lost), 
 Wake from your slumber ! Are your beds of down ? 
 Sleep you so easy there ? Or fear the frown 
 Of Him who threw you hence, and joys to see 
 Your abject state confess His victory? 
 
 One should especially note whether Dryden has here expressed 
 anything 'otherwise, and for the most part worse,' than else he 
 would have expressed it ; whether Dryden's rime is ' trivial and 
 of no true musical delight ; ' and whether Milton has, in addition to 
 ' apt numbers,' and ' fit quantity of syllables,' ' the sense variously 
 drawn out from one verse into another.' 
 
 Note the caesuras of the successive Miltonic lines, then of those 
 by Dryden. 
 
 119 
 
120 NOTES. 
 
 What sort of readers did Milton expect and desire? See P. L.li 
 23-39. 
 
 6. For the beginning cf. Homer, II. 1 : 1-9: 'Sing, goddess, the 
 wrath of Achilles, Peleus' son, the ruinous wrath that brought on 
 the Achaians woes innumerable, and hurled down into Hades many 
 strong souls of heroes, and gave their bodies to be a prey to dogs and 
 all winged fowls ; and so the counsel of Zeus wrought out its accom- 
 plishment from the day when first strife parted Atreides, king of 
 men, and noble Achilles. Who then among the gods set the twain 
 at strife and variance? Even the son of Leto and of Zeus; for he,' 
 etc. Milton may also have had in mind Tasso's Jerusalem Deliv- 
 ered, Book I, stanza 2, which runs thus in Fairfax's translation: — 
 
 O Heavenly Muse, that not with fading bays 
 Deckest thy brow by the Heliconian spring, 
 But sittest crowned with stars' immortal rays 
 In Heaven, where legions of bright angels sing ; 
 Inspire life in my wit, my thoughts upraise, 
 My verse ennoble. 
 
 Why should the theme be announced at the beginning? Why, 
 (a) according to ancient ideas, (b) according to modern ideas, should 
 a muse or a goddess be invoked? What, if anything, would be 
 gained by abandoning the formula? 
 
 What is here effected by inversion ? 
 
 Where in the Bible is this theme treated? Transcribe the verses 
 which relate to it. Is there any distinction between Eden and 
 Paradise ? 
 
 2. Mortal. See P. L. 2 : 653, 729, 813. 
 
 4. Who is this ' greater Man ' ? See 1 Cor. 15 : 21, 22, 45, 47. 
 
 4-5. Landor would omit these (and so vv. 14-10), 'as incum- 
 brances, and deadeners of the harmony.' Is there any reason why 
 they should be retained? 
 
 5. Restore. Why subjunctive? Blissful seat. Ci. P.L.I: 
 467; 2 : 347; 3 : 527; Virgil, ^En. 6 : 639, 'secies beatas.' 
 
 6. Secret. What is the meaning of the Latin verb secernere ? 
 Ovid has {Met. 11 : 765) ' secretos montes colebat ; ' how should this 
 be translated? 
 
 Top. Milton is here speaking of mountains and brooks. What 
 reason might he have for introducing them? Cf. note on v. 15. 
 
BOOK I. 121 
 
 7. Oreb. For Horeb; see Exod. 3:1; Deut. 4 : 10-14. Sinai. 
 SeeExod. 19: 16-23. 
 
 8. Chosen seed. Deut. 10 : 15 ; 1 Chron. 16 : 13. 
 
 9. What verb is modified by in the beginning? Prove. 
 
 10. Define Chaos. Cf. P.L.I : 210-242. 
 
 11. Siloa's brook. Isa. 8 : 6. Pronounce Siloa. 
 
 12. Fast by. Define. Oracle of God ; cf . 1 Kings 6 : 16. 
 
 14. Middle. Define. Cf. v. 516. 
 
 14-16. ' Supposing the fact to be true,' says Landor, ' the mention 
 of it is unnecessary and unpoetical. Little does it become Milton to 
 run in debt with Ariosto for his 
 
 Cose non dette rnai ne in prose o in rima.' 
 
 Cf . note on 4-5. 
 
 15. Aonian. Define. Aonian mount = Parnassus, a high 
 mountain in Phocis, with two peaks, sacred to Apollo and the 
 Muses, at whose foot was the city of Delphi and the Castalian spring. 
 Aonian mount is a figurative expression ; what does it signify ? 
 
 Pursues. A Latinism ; so in Virgil, Georg. 3 : 339-340, ' Quid 
 pascua versu prosequar?' 
 
 16. Rhyme. Perhaps not to be confounded with rime. The lat- 
 ter is O E. rim, but this etymology was obscured by the Greek l>vd/x6s, 
 from which the rh seems to have come. Hence two senses, as well 
 
 . as two forms. See my edition of Sidney's Defense of Poesy, note on 
 56 17 . Is it true that this theme had never been attempted before? 
 
 17. For the divine mission of the poet, see Sidney, Defense of 
 Poesy, 5 8 -6 26 . 
 
 18. Heart. 1 Cor. 3 : 16. 
 
 19. Thou know'st. So Theocritus, Idyls 22 : 116. 
 
 21. Dove-like. Luke 3 : 22. Brooding. This is the meaning 
 of the Hebrew word rendered moved in Gen. 1 : 2. See P. L. 7 : 
 235; Hymn on Nativity 68. Abyss. See P. L.2: 910-916. 
 
 22-26. What . . . men. Landor would omit these lines; but 
 memorize, for they are famous. 
 
 24. Highth. Milton's spelling, and so better : OE. hiehthu. Ar- 
 gument. Theme. 
 
 25. Assert. Defend, champion ; a Latinism. 
 
 26. See note on vv. 214-215. 
 
 27. Cf . II. 2 : 484-487 : ' Tell me now, ye Muses that dwell in the 
 
122 NOTES. 
 
 mansions of Olympus — seeing that ye are goddesses and are at hand 
 and know all things, but we hear only a rumor and know not any- 
 thing, who were the captains of the Danaans and their lords.' Cf. 
 Ps. 139 : 7, 8. 
 
 28. Cause. So jEn. 1:8: 'O Muse, relate to me the causes, tell 
 me in what had her will been thwarted,' etc. 
 
 29. Meaning of grand ? 
 
 34. ' I am sorry that Milton did not always keep separate the 
 sublime Satan and " the infernal serpent." ' — Landor. But see Rev. 
 12 :9; 20 : 2. 
 
 35. Envy. See P. L. 9 : 466; p. 191, v. 2 ff. Revenge. This 
 word occurs ten times more in the first two books. 
 
 36. What is the meaning of the word Eve ? See Gen. 3 : 20. 
 What time. This seems to be of Northern origin. It is found in 
 
 the Ormulum (ca. 1200), and in Coverdale's Bible. It has been 
 retained in the Bible, as, e.g., Ps. 56 : 3. 
 
 37. Cast out. See note on v. 34. 
 
 38. Cf. p. 192, v. 45. Metrically considered, how does this line 
 differ from any which have preceded it ? Landor says: ' It is much 
 to be regretted, I think, that he admits this metre into epic poetry. 
 It is often very efficient in the dramatic, at least in Shakespeare, but 
 hardly ever in Milton. He indulges in it much less fluently in Para- 
 dise Lost than in the Paradise Regained.'' 
 
 39. Cf. P. L. 5 : 725 ; 6 : 88 ; 7 : 140. 
 
 40. Isa. 14 : 14. To have equaled; is this grammatically cor- 
 rect ? 
 
 43. Cf. p. 193, v. 60. 
 
 •44. Why the inversion ? For the thought cf. p. 193, v. 62 ff. 
 44-49. Him . . . arms. Memorize. 
 
 45. See Isa. 14 : 12, 15; Luke 10 : 18; and cf. P. L. 6 : 824-874, 
 and note on v. 745. Define ethereal; cf. P. L. 3 : 716 ff . ; 5 : 267. 
 
 47. Bottomless. Inexhaustible ; with a suggestion of ' bottom- 
 less pit,' P. L.6 : 866 (from Rev. 20 : 3). 
 
 48. Adamantine chains. From the Prometheus Bound of ^s- 
 chylus, v. 6. Meaning ? Cf. P. L. 2 : 646, 853. 
 
 49. Durst. The invariable preterit in Milton; OE. dorste. 
 What is the modern preterit ? 
 
 51. Crew. See vv. 477, 688, 751. 
 
 52. Gulf. Define. 
 
BOOK I. 123 
 
 53. Confounded. May there not be two or three meanings 
 blended in this word ? Study it in a good dictionary. 
 
 56. Define baleful ; cf. P. L.2 : 576; Comus 255. 
 
 57. Witnessed. Bore witness to. 
 
 58. Pronounce obdurate. On Satan as the hero of Paradise Lost, 
 see Introduction, p. 35. 
 
 59. Define ken. 
 
 60. Waste and wild. Note the alliteration, and cf. P. I. 3 : 424. 
 
 61. Dungeon. So P. L. 2 : 317, 1003. 
 61-67. A dungeon ... to all. Memorize. 
 
 62. Great furnace. See Rev. 9 : 2. 
 
 63. Cf. p. 194, v. 96. Darkness visible. The ultimate source of 
 this thought may be Job 10 : 22 : ' A land of darkness, as darkness 
 itself; and of the shadow of death, without any order, and where the 
 light is as darkness.' Upon this is based the Chaucerian passage in 
 the Parson's Tale : ' The derke light that shal come out of the fyr 
 that evere shal brenne shal turne hym al to peyne.' Milton may 
 have had Spenser in mind, as frequently (F. Q. I. i. 14) : — 
 
 His glistring armor made 
 A little glooming light, much like a shade. 
 
 Cf. also II Pens. 79-80: — 
 
 Where glowing embers through the room 
 Teach light to counterfeit a gloom. 
 
 Sallust, Jugurtha 21 : 2, has ' obscuro lumine.' Lucan, too, has 
 a striking passage concerning a stormy night, which Milton may have 
 noted (5 : 630-631) : — 
 
 Nee fulgura currunt 
 Clara, sed obscurum nimbosus dissilit aer. 
 
 ' (The lightnings run without flame, and, though the cloud bursts, it 
 remains dark '). 
 
 64. Discover. Cf. v. 724. 
 
 66. Hope never comes. What are the famous words of Dante 
 {Inf. 3:9)? Was Milton a student of Dante ? Cf. Introduction, 
 p. 27. 
 
 68. Urges. A Latinism. Define. 
 
 69. Sulphur. See Rev. 19 : 20; 20 : 10. 
 
 70. Prepared. See Matt. 25 : 41. 
 
124 NOTES. 
 
 72. Utter darkness. So P. L. 3 : 16 ; 5 : 614 ; and Shakespeare, 
 1 Hen. IV. III. iii. 42. See Matt. 8 : 12 ; 22 : 13 ; 25 : 30 ; Jude 6. For 
 the equivalence of outer and utter see Ezek. 10 : 5 ; 42 : 1. Portion. 
 See Matt. 24 : 51. 
 
 74. ' Not very far for creatures who could have measured all that 
 distance, and a much greater, hy a single act of the will.' — Landor. 
 Is this a just criticism? How long had it taken them to fall (P. L. 
 6 : 871; cf. 8 : 113-114)? Cf. the Genesis of the Pseudo-Csedmon, p. 
 193, v. 71. 
 
 In II. 8 : 13-16, Zeus threatens: ' I will take and cast him into 
 misty Tartaros, right far away, where is the deepest gulf heneath 
 the earth, . . . as far beneath Hades as Heaven is high above the 
 earth.' In ^En. 6 : 577-579, the Sibyl speaks: 'Then Tartarus itself 
 yawns with sheer descent, and stretches down through the darkness 
 twice as far as the eye travels upward to the firmament of heaven.' 
 
 78. Weltering. Define. See Lye. 13. 
 
 81. Beelzebub. See 2 Kings 1:2 ff . ; Matt. 12 : 24. See Mil- 
 ton's description of him, P. L. 2 : 299-309. What indications of his 
 character are given in P. L. 1 : 128-155, 271-282; 2 : 299-380? In 
 what respect, if any, does he appear inferior to Satan ? 
 
 Arch-Enemy. How does this term differ in meaning from the 
 Arch-Fiend of P. L. 1 : 156, 209 (cf. Arch-Foe, P. L. 6 : 259) ? 
 What is the etymology of fiend ? What the meaning of the word 
 Satan? 
 
 With 81 ff. cf. p. 194, v. 108 ff. 
 
 83. Horrid. Why horrid? Has the word occurred before in 
 this Book ? 
 
 84. Beest. Is this the usual word ? 
 
 But oh, etc. Note the anacoluthon in this speech. What is 
 anacoluthon ? What does this figure suggest on the part of the 
 speaker ? 
 
 How fallen! how changed. An allusion to Scripture and to 
 Virgil. See Isa. 14 : 12, and jEn. 2 : 274. 
 
 What expressions in this speech are complimentary ? Could 
 Satan have any reason for using compliment ? Are there any ex- 
 pressions denoting superiority ? Why would not monologue have 
 served as well in this place ? 
 
 84-94. Mark the caesural pauses, and note the number of syllables 
 which precede the pause in the successive lines. Would uniformity 
 
BOOK I. 125 
 
 iu this respect be preferable ? Compare, in this respect, vv. 59-69. 
 See, on the subject of Milton's rhythm, Introduction, pp. 30-31, 36-37. 
 
 86. Cf. p. 193, v. 54. 
 
 86-87. Didst . . . bright. Cf . Odys. 6 : 107-8 : ' High over all 
 she [Artemis] rears her head and brows, and easily may she be 
 known, — but all are fair ! ' 
 
 93. Thunder. A consultation of the following passages ought to 
 be interesting : P. L. 1 : 174, 258, 601 ; 2 : 66, 166, 294. From a com- 
 parison of these with Shakespeare, King Lear II. iv. 230; Troil. II. 
 iii. 11 ; Cymb. IV. ii. 271; V. iv. 30, 95, should you judge this to be 
 a Christian or a pagan conception ? See note on v. 199. 
 
 94. Dire. Define. See P. L. 2 : 589. 
 
 Yet not for those, etc. Cf . Prometheus Bound 1013-1016 : — 
 
 Let him now hurl his blanching lightnings down, 
 And with his white-winged snows, and mutterings deep 
 Of subterraneous thunders, mix all things, 
 Confound them in disorder ! None of this 
 Shall bend my sturdy will. 
 
 97. Changed. Modifies what word ? 
 
 98. Lowell says {Shakespeare Once More) : ' Milton is saved from 
 making total shipwreck of his large-utteranced genius on the desolate 
 Noman's Land of a religious epic only by the lucky help of Satan 
 and his colleagues, with whom, as foiled rebels and republicans, he 
 cannot conceal his sympathy.' 
 
 101. Innumerable'foree. Define. 
 
 105-106. What though . . . not lost. Cf. Fairfax's Tasso 4 : 15:— 
 
 We lost the field, yet lost we not our heart. 
 
 105-109. What though . . . overcome. Memorize. 
 
 107. Study. What is the primary meaning of the Latin studium ? 
 
 108-109. Note the following by Matthew Arnold, The Study of 
 Poetry : — 
 
 ' There can be no more useful help for discovering what poetry belongs to 
 the class of tbe truly excellent, and can therefore do us most good, than to 
 have always in one's mind lines and expressions of the great masters, and 
 to apply them as a touchstone to other poetry. Of course we are not to 
 require this other poetry to resemble tbem ; it maybe very dissimilar. But 
 if we have any tact we shall find them, when we have lodged them well in 
 our minds, an infallible touchstone for detecting the presence or absence of 
 
126 NOTES. 
 
 high poetic quality, and also the degree of this quality, in all other poetry 
 which we may place beside them. Short passages, even single lines, Avill 
 serve our turn quite sufficiently.' 
 
 The author then quotes Homer, II. 3 : 243, 244 ; 17 : 443-445 : 24 : 
 543 ; Dante, Inf. 33 : 49-50 ; 2 : 91-93 ; Par. 3 : 85 ; Shakespeare, 
 2 Henry IF. III. i. 20-22; Hamlet V. ii. 354-357, and adds: - 
 
 ' Take of Milton that Miltonic passage : — 
 
 Darkened so, yet shone 
 Above them all the Archangel ; but his face 
 Deep scars of thunder had intrenched, and care 
 Sat on his faded cheek . . . 
 
 P. L. 1 : 599-602. 
 add two such lines as : — 
 
 And courage never to submit or yield; 
 And what is else not to be overcome . . . 
 
 P. L.l: 108-109. 
 
 and finish with the exquisite close to the loss of Proserpine, the loss — 
 
 . . . which cost Ceres all that pain 
 To seek her through the world. 
 
 P. L.A: 270-271. 
 
 These few lines, if we have tact and can use them, are enough even of 
 themselves to keep clear and sound our judgments about poetry, to save us 
 from fallacious estimates of it, to conduct us to a real estimate.' 
 
 111. To bow, etc. Cf. Prometheus Bound 1023-1027 : — 
 
 Oh ! think jio more 
 That I, fear-struck by Zeus to a woman's mind, 
 Will supplicate him, loathed as he is, 
 With feminine upliftings of my hands, 
 To break these chains ! Far from me be the thought ! 
 
 114. Empire. Define. Cf. Lat. imperium. 
 
 115. Scan the line. 
 
 116. By fate. Is this a Biblical conception ? Why put into the 
 mouth of Satan ? Gods. See P. L.l: 138, 570; 2 : 391. 
 
 117. Empyreal substance. Cf . heavenly essences, v. 138 ; fiery 
 essence, Hymn on the Circumcision 7. Cf. P. L. 6 : 433-435: — 
 
 Since now we find this our empyreal form 
 Incapable of mortal injury, 
 Imperishable. 
 
BOOK I. 127 
 
 For the Scriptural warrant of this view, see Ps. 104 : 4. What is the 
 etymology of empyreal ? 
 
 123. Scan the line. 
 
 124. What is the usual Greek meaning of tyrant, and tyranny ? 
 126. Cf. .En. 1:208-209: 'Such were his words; sick at heart 
 
 with a weight of care, hope in his looks he feigns, deep in his soul 
 his grief he stifles.' 
 
 129. That. What is its antecedent ? Define embattled. 
 
 Seraphim. The modern conceptions of the Seraphim and Cheru- 
 bim are not directly derived from the Bible, hut owe much to the 
 treatise on the Celestial Hierarchies by the Pseudo-Dionysius the 
 Areopagite, of the fourth century, from which modern poets have 
 freely drawn. Thomas Aquinas, in his Summa Theologica, thus 
 treats the subject (Qusest. 108): — 
 
 4 The name of Seraphim is not given from love alone, but from excess of 
 love, which the name of heat or burning implies. Hence Dionysius inter- 
 prets the name Seraphim according to the properties of fire, in which is 
 excess of heat. In fire, however, we may consider three things. First, a 
 certain motion which is upward, and which is continuous ; by which is sig- 
 nified, that they are unchangingly moving towards God. Secondly, its active 
 power, which is heat ; . . . and by this is signified the influence of this kind 
 of Angels, which they exercise powerfully on those beneath them, exciting 
 them to a sublime fervor, and thoroughly purifying them by burning. 
 Thirdly, in fire its brightness must be considered ; and this signifies that 
 such angels have within themselves an inextinguishable light, and that they 
 perfectly illuminate others. 
 
 In the same way the name of Cherubim is given from a certain excess of 
 knowledge ; hence it is interpreted plenitudo scientise, which Dionysius ex- 
 plains in four ways : first, as perfect vision of God ; secondly, full reception 
 of divine light ; thirdly, that in God himself they contemplate the beauty of 
 the order of things emanating from God ; fourthly, that, being themselves 
 full of this kind of knowledge, they copiously pour it out upon others.' 
 
 So Bacon, in his Advancement of Learning, Bk. I: — 
 1 To proceed to that which is next in order from God to spirits, we find, as 
 far as credit is to be given to the celestial hierarchy of that supposed Dio- 
 nysius the senator of Athens, the first place or degree is given to the angels 
 of love, which are termed seraphim, the second to the angels of light, which 
 are termed cherubim.' 
 
 To these add Byron, Cain I. i. 418 : — 
 
 I have heard it said, 
 The seraphs love most — cherubim know most. 
 
128 NOTES. 
 
 130. Conduct. A sense now somewhat rare. See P. L. 6 : 777; 
 9 : (530; so Shak., King John TV. ii. 129: ' Under whose conduct came 
 those powers of France ? ' Is the meaning merely guidance ? 
 
 134. Rue. Define. 
 
 135. Foul. Define. See v. 555. 
 137. Laid. Construction? 
 
 139. Remains. Account for the singular. 
 
 141. What word is to he understood hefore extinct and swal- 
 lowed ? 
 
 144. Of force. Cf. Shak., 1 Hen. IV. II. iii. 120, where Hotspur's 
 wife replies to his question, ' Will this content you, Kate ? ' in the 
 words, 'It must of force.' Meaning? 
 
 145. Than such. Meaning of such ? Is the repetition of force, 
 in a different sense, felicitous ? 
 
 147. Strongly. Meaning? 
 
 148. Suffice. Satisfy. The Latin sufficere would here require a 
 dative. Ire. Etymology ? Synonyms ? AYould it be better to 
 avoid the rime it causes ? 
 
 149. Thralls. One of the very few old English words borrowed 
 from Scandinavian; see Emerson, History of the English Language, 
 p. 155. 
 
 150. By right of war. Modifies what word ? His business. 
 Meaning of his? Cf. Luke 2 : 49: 'Wist ye not that I must be 
 about my Father's business? ' 
 
 154. Being. Cf. P. L. 2 : 98. 
 
 156. Speedy words. Like the Homeric 'winged words,' as, for 
 example, in Odys. 1 : 122, and often. 
 
 157. To be . . . suffering. Memorize this apothegm. To what is 
 it a reply ? Why Cherub, instead of Seraph? See note on v. 129. 
 
 158. Doing or suffering. Milton has in mind the antithesis em- 
 ployed by iEschylus and Sophocles, as in ^Eschylus, Eum. 868 ; Soph. 
 0. C. 267 ; consult the Greek Lexicon s. v. <5pdw, and see also P. L. 2 : 
 162, 199, 340. The Latin thus uses facere et pati, Liv. 2 : 12; Hor., 
 Od. III. xxiv. 43. 
 
 166. Which. What is its antecedent ? 
 
 167. Fail. Err. A Latinism, nisi (m) fallor ; so sEn. 5 : 49. 
 170. Is there a contradiction between this and P. L. 6 : 800-823, 
 
 880 ? If so, how is it to be solved ? May ministers here refer to 
 hail, v. 171, and thunder, v. 174 ? Cf. P. L. 6 : 836. 
 
BOOK I. 129 
 
 172. O'erblown. The meaning may be illustrated by Sluik., 
 Temp. II. ii. 114: 'Is the storm overblown ?' The sense appears to 
 be, ' The cessation of the hail hath calmed, stilled, the fiery surge.' 
 If this is the meaning, it is an example of a past participle being used, 
 as in Latin, for a verbal noun with a dependent genitive, — in this 
 case the genitive being hail. But the syntax is not perfectly clear. 
 
 173. Surge. Image taken from what? Cf. P. L. 7 : 214; 10: 
 417. What Latin verb underlies the word ? 
 
 176. Spent. Define. See P. E. 4 : 366, 443; Sams. Agon. 1758. 
 Shafts. Cf . P. R. 3 : 305 : ' They issue forth, steel bows and shafts 
 their arms,' referring to the Parthians. Here shafts evidently = ar- 
 rows. Shaft may therefore be regarded as equivalent to bolt, which 
 originally meant the same thing. The missiles or projectiles of 
 the thunder are compared to arrows, as in Tennyson's sonnet, 
 To J. M. K. : — 
 
 Thou from a throne 
 Mounted in heaven wilt shoot into the dark 
 Arroivs of lightnings. 
 
 See also P. L. 6 : 546, 845. 
 182. Livid. What color, and from what cause ? See vv. 69, 350. 
 
 185. There rest. Ellipsis of what ? 
 
 185-190. Landor and Lowell observe that Milton here uses rime, 
 Lowell thinks intentionally. What are the riming words ? 
 
 186. Afflicted. A Latinism. Define. See P. L. 2 : 166; 4 : 939; 
 6 : 849-852. 
 
 187. Offend. Is this equivalent to displease ? See P. L. 6 : 465. 
 
 193. Uplift. Why is the form different from that in P. L. 1 : 347 ; 
 2:7? 
 
 194. Sparkling blazed. So Spenser, F. Q. I. xi. 14: — 
 
 His blazing eyes, like two bright shining shields, 
 Did burne with wrath, and sparkled living fyre. 
 
 May Milton have derived any suggestions for this picture from 
 Virgil's account of the serpents that destroy Laocoon and his sons, 
 s£n. 2 : 203-210? 
 
 195. Prone. Define. Large. Apparently a Gallicism. Meaning? 
 
 196. Rood. How much space is covered by Tityus, JEn. 6 : 595- 
 597 ? How much in Odys. 11 : 577 ? 
 
 198. Titanian. Who were the Titans, and for what were they 
 
130 NOTES. 
 
 famous ? Earth-born. See P. L. 4 : 360 ; Fac. Exercise 93. It is 
 the Greek ynyivfc, an epithet used in the Prometheus Bound (see 
 note on next line). 
 
 199. Briareos. Virgil makes Briareus war on Jove, sEn. 10 : 565- 
 568 : ' ^Ega3on [another name for Briareus] was such as this, of whom 
 they tell that he had a hundred arms and a hundred hands, fifty 
 mouths and fifty chests, from which flames blazed, in the day when 
 he fought against the thunderbolts of Jove.' But in II. 1 : 401^06 
 he is an ally of Zeus. 
 
 Typhon. Prom. Bound 351-372 : — 
 
 I have also seen, 
 And pitied as I saw, the earth-horn one, 
 The inhabitant of old Cilician caves, 
 The great war-monster of the hundred heads 
 (All taken and bowed beneath the violent band), 
 Typhon tbe fierce, who did resist the gods, 
 And, bissing slaughter from bis dreadful jaws, 
 Flash out ferocious glory from bis eyes, 
 As if to storm tbe tbrone of Zeus ! Wbereat, 
 Tbe sleepless arrow of Zeus flew straight at him, — 
 Tbe headlong bolt of thunder breathing flame, 
 And struck him doAvnward from his eminence 
 Of exultation ! Through tbe very soul 
 It struck him, and his strength was withered up 
 To ashes, thunder-blasted. Now be lies 
 A helpless trunk supinely, at full length 
 Beside the strait of ocean, spurred into 
 By roots of Etna, — high upon whose tops 
 Hephaestus sits and strikes the flashing ore. 
 From thence the rivers of fire shall burst away 
 Hereafter, and devour with savage jaws 
 The equal plains of fruitful Sicily ! 
 Such passion he shall boil back in hot darts 
 Of an insatiate fury and sough of flame, 
 Fallen Typhon ;— howsoever struck and charred 
 By Zeus's bolted thunder ! 
 
 Cf. Pindar, Pyth. 1 : 16-17: ' Typhon of the hundred heads, whom 
 erst the den Kilikian of many names did breed.' 
 
 200. In what province was Tarsus? 
 
 201. Leviathan. Cf. P.L.I : 412-^15. Perhaps referring to Ps. 
 
BOOK L 131 
 
 104 : 26. The leviathan of Job 41 is generally understood to be a 
 crocodile, and not a whale. 
 
 202. Ocean stream. The ocean is called a stream by Homer 
 (II. 14 : 245). 
 
 202. Lowell, Milton: 'When Mr. Masson tells us that . . . "either 
 the third foot must be read as an anapsest or the word hugest must 
 be pronounced as one syllable, hug'st," I think Milton would have 
 invoked the soul of Sir John Cheek. Of course Milton read it — 
 
 Created hugest tliat swim th' ocean stream. 
 
 So Milton wrote it, in fact, or at least so the first edition had it.' 
 
 203 ff. The story is an old one. It is told in the fabulous medi- 
 aeval zoologies (Physiologi), in the Old English poem entitled The 
 Whale, in the Arabian Mights, and in Olaus Magnus' (1490-1568) His- 
 tory of the Northern Nations (tr. into English in 1(558). See also 
 Ariosto, Orl. Fur. 6 : 37, Hakluyt's Voyages, and my comparison of 
 the different versions in Modern Language Notes for March, 1894. 
 
 204. Night-foundered. Does this mean benighted, lost in the 
 darkness, as in Comus 483? Nothing better suggests itself, but this 
 meaning of founder seems to be peculiar to Milton. 
 
 206. Scaly. Perhaps from Job 41, but some of the writers men- 
 tioned above use terms which likewise suggest the crocodile or a 
 huge turtle. Milton did not invent the confusion. 
 
 207. Lee. Define. 
 
 208. Invests. See P. L. 3 : 10. Wished morn. See Comus 574, 
 950; P. L. 6 : 150. 
 
 209. Garnett calls attention to the ' sequence of monosyllables 
 that paints the enormous bulk of the prostrate Satan.' 
 
 210. Chained. See 2 Pet. 2:4; Jude 6 ; Rev. 20 : 1. 2 Pet. 2 : 4 
 is now translated ' pits of darkness ; ' the former reading is explained 
 as ' to darkness as if to chains,' which would make the Miltonic con- 
 text easier of explanation (but see v. 48). 
 
 211. Had. Parse. 
 
 214-215. Garnett, Milton, pp. 153, 154 : — 
 
 'It is easy to represent Paradise Lost as obsolete by pointing out 
 that its demonology and angelology have for us become mere mythology. 
 This criticism is more formidable in appearance than in reality. The vital 
 question for the poet is his own belief, not the belief of his readers. If the 
 Iliad has survived not merely the decay of faith in the Olympian divinities, 
 
132 NOTES. 
 
 but the criticism which has pulverized Achilles as a historical personage, 
 Paradise Lost need not he much affected by general disbelief in the per- 
 sonality of Satan, and universal disbelief in that of Gabriel, Raphael, and 
 Uriel. A far more vulnerable point is the failure of the purpose so osten- 
 tatiously proclaimed, " To justify the ways of God to men." This problem 
 was absolutely insoluble on Milton's data, except by denying the divine 
 foreknowledge, a course not open to him. The conduct of the Deity who 
 allows his adversary to ruin his innocent creature from the purely malig- 
 nant motive — 
 
 That with reiterated crimes he might 
 
 Heap on himself damnation, 
 
 without further interposition than a warning which he foresees will be 
 fruitless, implies a grievous deficiency either in wisdom or in goodness, or 
 at best falsifies the declaration : — 
 
 Necessity and chance 
 Approach me not, and what I will is fate.' 
 
 220. Treble. Name two synonyms. This use of treble in the 
 sense of ' very great ' suggests the use of Greek rplg, English thrice, 
 in such words as ' thrice-blessed.' Cf. P. L. 2 : 569; 7 : 631. Poured. 
 Parse. 
 
 221. Pool. Is the word here used in its ordinary sense? Cf. 
 P. L. 1 : 411 ; 9 : 77 ; P. P. 4 : 79. If Milton sometimes used it to 
 translate the Lat. palus, how might that modify the customary 
 sense ? The Bible sometimes has it with nearly the Miltonic mean- 
 ing, thus Isa. 14 : 23 ; cf . 41 : 18. 
 
 222-224. Describe this scene as it appears to the eye of your im- 
 agination. 
 
 224. Cf. p. 193, v. 69. 
 
 225. Expanded wings. Cf. P. L. 2 : 927. 
 
 226. Incumbent. So the winds are incumbent on the sea in J£n. 
 1 : 84. Dusky air. Cf . P. L. 3 : 72 ; 10 : 280. 
 
 227. Unusual weight. Spenser, F. Q. I. xi. 18 : — 
 
 And with strong flight did forcibly divide 
 The yielding aire, which nigh too feeble found 
 Her flitting parts and element unsound, 
 To beare so great a weight. 
 
 228. Lights. Milton uses alight only twice, P. L. 3 : 422 ; 4 : 396. 
 
 229. Liquid fire. So liquidis ignis in Virgil, Eel. 6 : 33, from 
 Lucr. 6 : 205, 349. 
 
BOOK I. 133 
 
 230. Hue. What color would this he ? 
 
 231. Transports. Carries away. 
 
 232. Pelorus. Cape Faro in Sicily, opposite the Italian main- 
 land, and near ./Etna. Ovid, Met. 5 : 346-355 : ' The vast island of 
 Trinacria is heaped up on the limhs of the Giant, and keeps down 
 Typhoeus, that dared to hope for the abodes of Heaven, placed be- 
 neath its heavy mass. He indeed struggles, and attempts often to 
 rise, but his right hand is placed beneath the Ausonian Pelorus, his 
 left under thee, Pachynus; his legs are pressed down by Lilyboeum ; 
 JEtna bears down his head ; under it Typhoeus, on his back, casts 
 forth sand, and vomits flame from his raging mouth; often does he 
 struggle to throw off the load of earth, and to roll away cities and 
 huge mountains from his body.' Cf. /En. 3 : 571-582 (whence ' thun- 
 dering ^Etna '), and Longfellow's poem of Enceladus. Parse side. 
 
 234. Fueled. Define. Entrails. See P. L. 0:517; 9:1000; 
 and cf. viscera, jEn. 3 : 575. Conceiving. A Latinism, concipere 
 ignem, as in Ovid, Met. 7 : 108. 
 
 235. Sublimed. See P. L. 5 : 483. Define and parse. Mineral 
 fury. Like the furor sequinoctialis of Catullus 46 : 2. 
 
 236. Involved. See P. R. 1 : 41. 
 
 238. Unblest feet. Do you know Ruskin's comment on this pas- 
 sage, Mod. Painters, Part 3, Sec. 2, Chap. 3? Next mate. See v. 192. 
 
 241. Not. So Aias [Ajax] in Odys. 4 : 502-504: 'And so would he 
 have fled his doom, albeit hated by Athene, had he not let a proud 
 word fall in the fatal darkening of his heart. He said that in the 
 gods' despite he had escaped the great gulf of the sea.' 
 
 243. See note on v. 5. 
 
 244. Change. Take in exchange. A classic idiom. Thus mutare, 
 permutare in Virg., Georg. 1:8; Hor., Od. I. xvii. 1; III. i. 47; 
 dUaaaav, tLfiti^dv are similarly used in Greek. Cf. Ben Jonson, Drink 
 to me only with thine eyes : — 
 
 But might I of Jove's nectar sup, 
 v I would not change for thine. 
 
 246. Sovran. From the Ital. sovrano. Account for the usual 
 spelling. Dispose. See P. L. 3 : 115 ; 4 : 635 ; S. A. 210, 506. 
 
 247. Shall. Is this a mere future, equivalent to will ? 
 
 248. Equaled. What words to be supplied ? 
 249-255. Farewell . . . Heaven. Memorize. 
 
134 NOTES. 
 
 251. So the hero of Sophocles' Ajax, vv. 395-397. 
 
 254. See Comus 381-385 ; P. L. 4 : 20-23, 75 ; Hor., Ep. I. xi. 27 
 (a sentiment which Milton once applied to himself, and wrote in an 
 album) ; Lovelace, To Altheafrom Prison; and cf. Marlowe's Faus- 
 tus, Scene 3: — 
 
 Faust. How comes it then that thou art out of hell ? 
 
 Mepli. Why this is hell, nor am I out of it ; 
 Think'st thou that I, who saw the face of God, 
 And tasted the eternal joys of Heaven, 
 Am not tormented with ten thousand hells, 
 In heing deprived of everlasting bliss ? 
 
 257. But. Perhaps = except that I am. If not, we should expect 
 equal to Him instead of less than He. 
 
 258. Thunder. Cf. vv. 93, 174. 
 
 259. Built. But there was as yet no building; see vv. 710-717. 
 
 260. For His envy. An obscure phrase ; the general sense is no 
 doubt expressed by the critic Newton : ' This is not a place that God 
 should envy us, or think it too good for us.' 
 
 262-263. Memorize. There are several parallels. Plutarch tells 
 us that Caesar, passing a small town with some friends, remarked, 
 'I had rather be the first man here than the second man in Rome.' 
 But Milton seems to have followed very closely the lines in the 
 Adamus Exul (1610) of Grotius : — 
 
 Nam, me judice, 
 Kegnare dignum est ambitu, etsi in Tartaro ; 
 Alto prseesse Tartaro siquidem jurat, 
 Coelis quam in ipsis servi ohire munia. 
 
 Cf . Prom. Bound 966-967. 
 
 266. Astonished. Either ' bewildered ' or ' dismayed ; ' perhaps 
 literally ' thunderstruck,' like Lat. attonitus. See P. L. 1 : 317; 2 : 
 423; 6 : 838. Oblivious. Causing forgetfulness, as in Macb. V. iii. 
 43, ' oblivious antidote.' Cf. ' unexpressive ' for ' inexpressible,' Lye. 
 176 ; and Abbott's Shale. Gram. § 3. 
 
 268. Mansion. Not 'building,' but 'dwelling-place ;' so P. L. 
 8 : 296. 
 
 269. Rallied. Define. 
 
 274-277. Lowell notes a rime here, and also an assonance. 
 
 276. Edge. See P. Z. : 108; P. R. 1 : 94; prob. from Lat. acies, 
 
BOOK I. 135 
 
 the front of an army, conceived of as the edge of a sword. Murray, 
 New Eng. Diet., assigns to it a different sense. 
 
 New. Almost = anew ? 
 
 280. Groveling and prostrate. See prone, v. 195. 
 
 282. Such a pernicious highth. An accusative of extent of 
 time, like 'spaces incomprehensible,' P. L. 8:20; 'many a dark 
 league,' P. L. 10 : 438. Pernicious. Ruinous, fatal; see P. L. (i : 
 840. 
 
 284-285. It has been said of Milton's epithets that they are ' pre- 
 eminent for perfect music, beauty, and grandeur.' Do these lines 
 furnish any illustration of the statement? 
 
 284-291. Gamett says (Milton pp. 104, 165) : — 
 
 ' His diction, the delight of the educated, is the despair of the ignorant 
 man. Not that this diction is in any respect affected or pedantic. Milton 
 was the darling poet of our greatest modern master of unadorned Saxon 
 speech, John Bright. But it is freighted with classic allusion — not alone 
 from the ancient classics — and comes to lis rich with gathered sweets, like 
 a wind laden with the scent of many flowers. " It is," says Pattison, " the 
 elaborated outcome of all the best words of all antecedent poetry — the 
 language of one who lives in the companionship of the great and the wise of 
 past time." " Words," the same writer reminds us, " over and above their 
 dictionary signification, connote all the feeling which has gathered round 
 them by reason of their employment through a hundred generations of 
 song." So it is, every word seems instinct with its own peculiar beauty, and 
 fraught with its own peculiar association, and yet each detail is strictly 
 subordinate to the general effect. No poet of Milton's rank, probably, has 
 been equally indebted to his predecessors, not only for his vocabulary, but 
 for his thoughts. Reminiscences throng upon him, and he takes all that 
 comes, knowing that he can make it lawfully his own. The comparison of 
 Satan's shield to the moon, for instance, is borrowed from the similar com- 
 parison of the shield of Achilles in the Iliad, but what goes in Homer comes 
 out Milton. Homer merely says that the huge and massy shield emitted 
 a lustre like that of the moon in heaven. Milton heightens the resemblance 
 by giving the shield shape, calls in the telescope to endow it with what 
 would seem preternatural dimensions to the naked eye, and enlarges even 
 these by the suggestion of more than the telescope can disclose.' 
 
 Cf. Introduction, pp. 27, 28. 
 
 285. Ethereal temper. This looks like a sort of accusative of 
 characteristic, though perhaps we may conceive of the preposition's 
 being omitted, as in Abbott, Shak. Gram. §202. Massy. Milton 
 
136 NOTES. 
 
 does not use ' massive;' massy usually of metals, as in P. L. 1 : 703; 
 2 : 878. 
 
 286. Cast. Parse. Circumference. By what figure of speech ? 
 
 287. Like the moon. So II. 19 : 373-374: ' Then lastly he [Ach- 
 illes] took the great and strong shield, and its brightness shone afar 
 off as the moon's.' 
 
 288. Tuscan artist. His name in P. L. 5 : 202 ; cf . 3 : 590. In his 
 Areopagitica Milton says : ' There I found and visited the famous 
 Galileo, grown old, a prisoner to the Inquisition.' 
 
 289. Fesole. A town on the crest of a hill, 3 miles N. E. of 
 Florence. 
 
 290. Valdarno. Valley of the Arno. 
 
 292. To equal. In comparison with. Pine. Hints for this, and 
 the mast of the next line, may he found in Odys. 9 : 322 ; JEn. 3 : 
 659; Ovid, Met. 13 : 782; Tasso, Jer. Del. 6 : 40; Spenser, F. Q. III. 
 vii. 40, etc. Cowley (flourished when ?) says of Goliath : - 
 
 His spear the trunk was of a lofty tree, 
 
 Which Nature meant some tall ship's mast should be. 
 
 292-296. His spear . . . marl. Memorize. 
 
 294. Ammiral. Flag-ship, admiral's ship. From Ital. ammi- 
 raglia. 
 
 296. Marl. Cf. v. 562. Steps. Cf. P. L. 6 : 71-73. 
 
 297. Clime. Is it easy to determine just what the word here 
 means ? 
 
 298. Sore. OE. scwe, grievously; cf. Ger. seh?\ Vaulted with 
 fire. See P. L. 6 : 214 ; P. R. 1 : 116. 
 
 299. Nathless, OE. net thy lees ; older word for nevertheless. 
 
 302. Leaves. The simile is a very old one, and was used by 
 several poets before Milton. Can you mention any ? Merrill, on 
 Catullus 7 : 3, remarks: 'The sands of the seashore, the leaves of 
 the forest, and the stars of the heavens, are the first types of infinite 
 number that occurred to early man.' Cf. Gen. 22 : 17; P. L. 2 : 903; 
 5 ; 745. 
 
 302-304. Thick . . . embower. Memorize. 
 
 303. Vallombrosa. Ital. Yalle ombrosa, shady valley. It is 
 about eighteen miles from Florence, and nearly 3000 feet above the 
 sea. The monastery was founded about 1050, and suppressed in 1869 ; 
 the present buildings were quite new when Milton visited the spot in 
 
BOOK I. 137 
 
 Sept., 1638. The poet Wordsworth says: 'The trees planted near 
 the convent are mostly pines, but the natural woods are deciduous, 
 and spread to a great extent.' 
 
 304. Sedge. The Hebrew name of the Red Sea is Reed Sea, or 
 Sea of Rushes. Our term is derived from the Greek and Latin. 
 
 305. Fierce winds. Orion's rising and setting are accompanied 
 by storms, according to the ancients ; see /En. 1 : 535-537 ; 7 : 719 ; 
 Hor., Od. I. xxviii. 21; III. xxvii. 17; Epod. 15:7. Orion. See 
 Longfellow, Occultation of Orion. 
 
 306. Waves o'erthrew. See Exod. 14 : 23-28. 
 
 307. Busiris. The name of an Egyptian king, according to Greek 
 legend. Pharaoh being an official title, Milton^ following Raleigh, 
 here appropriates an individual name for his poetical purpose. 31 em- 
 phian. Memphis was the ancient capital of Egypt, the Noph and 
 Memphis of the Bible. The Sphinx and the great pyramids are near 
 Memphis. Chivalry. There were horsemen in Pharaoh's host 
 (Exod. 14 : 28), but Milton extends the word chivalry to cover the 
 whole army, and thus gives a mediaeval tone to the passage. 
 
 309. Sojourners. See Exod. 12 : 40. Goshen. See Gen. 45 : 
 10 ; 47 : 27; Exod. 9 : 26. 
 
 310. Safe. Transferred epithet. 
 
 311. Chariot-wheels. Exod. 14 : 25. So thick. How thick ? 
 Is the reference to remote or near objects ? 
 
 314. Cf. note on P. L.I: 406. 
 
 314-315. See Lowell's comment, Introduction, p. 32. 
 
 315. Resounded. Cf. P. L. 6 : 218. 
 
 316. Flower. So Lat. flos, Gr. avOo S . 
 
 317. If. That is, ' Heaven is now lost, if,' etc. 
 318 ff. Sarcasm. 
 
 320. Virtue. Cf. P. L. 11 : 690. What is the meaning of Lat. 
 
 See v. 170. 
 See P. L. 6 : 589. Thunderbolts. See P. L. 6 : 
 
 Perhaps a reminiscence of /En. 1 : 44, transfixo 
 
 Not strictly logical, but imitated from Homer 
 and Virgil, as in II 2 : 147; /En. 1 : 148. 
 
 virtus? 
 
 
 326. 
 
 Pursuers. 
 
 328. 
 
 Linked. { 
 
 836. 
 
 
 329. 
 
 Transfix. 
 
 pectore. 
 330. 
 
 Memorize. 
 
 332. 
 
 As when. 
 
138 NOTES. 
 
 335. Not. Fail to. 
 
 336. Landor criticises In which they were as prosaic. 
 
 337. To. Milton, save here, always employs the direct object 
 with obey ; so Shakespeare, with but two exceptions ; the Bible has 
 to in one place, Rom. 6 : 16. This construction is like that with 
 Lat. obozdire. General's. As frequently in Shakespeare ; not else- 
 where in Milton. 
 
 338. Potent rod. See Exod. 4 : 2, 17 ; 8:5, etc. 
 
 339. Amram's son. Exod. 6 : 20. 
 
 340. Coast. See Exod. 10 : 4. Does it mean ' sea-shore ' ? 
 340-343. Exod. 10 : 12-15 ; cf . Rev. 9 : 3-10. 
 
 341. Warping. Define. 
 
 345. Cope. See P. L. 4 : 992 ; 6 : 215. ' Cope of heaven ' is used 
 as early as by Chaucer and Wyclif. What is the figure ? 
 
 347. Uplifted spear. Cf. Josh. 8 : 18, 19, 26. 
 
 348. Sultan. What other titles does Milton employ for Satan ? 
 351. A multitude. What triple comparison is introduced by 
 
 thick, v. 302 ? What one gives the measure of numberless, v. 344 ? 
 In what three different situations and postures were the evil spirits? 
 Populous North. Scandinavia was anciently known as 'officina 
 gentium.' 
 
 353. Rhene. Rhine; from Lat. Rhenus. Danaw. Danube; 
 from Lat. Danuvius, through the German Danau, Donau. When. 
 When did this migration of the peoples (Ger. Volkerwanderung) take 
 place? Who were the Goths, the Vandals, and the Lombards? 
 Who were their chief leaders, and what countries did they overrun ? 
 
 354. Deluge. Cf. Isa. 59 : 19; Spenser, F. Q. II. x. 15. 
 
 355. Libyan sands. Catullus 7 : 3, Libyssse harense. 
 
 357. Heads and leaders. Have there been any previous in- 
 stances of synonymous terms used in couples ? Can you suggest any 
 reason for it ? 
 
 359. Dignities. The abstract for the concrete ; so 2 Pet. 2 : 10 ; 
 Jude 8; cf. Lat. dignitates, Liv. XXII. xl. 4. 
 
 360. Thrones. See v. 128. 
 
 361-363. Ps. 9 : 5, 6 ; 69 : 28 ; Rev. 3:5; P. L. 5 : 658-659. 
 
 365. Got them. Reflexive. 
 
 366. Sufferance. See v. 241. 
 369-371. Ps. 106 : 20 ; Rom. 1 : 23. 
 
 372. Religions. Ceremonies, rites, like Lat. religiones. 
 
BOOK I. 139 
 
 373. Devils. Deut. 32 : 17; Ps. 106 : 37 ; 1 Cor. 10 : 20; Rev. 
 9 : 20. To adore. Dependent on what verb ? 
 
 375. Idols. In its etymological or primitive sense. 
 
 376. Say, Muse. So Homer, II. -2: 484, 487 : ' Tell me now, ye 
 Muses . . . who were the captains of the Danaans and their lords.' 
 Cf. Mn. 7 : 641. 
 
 Who first, who last. II. 5 : 703: 'And now who first was 
 slaughtered, and who last.' So 16 : 692, and /En. 11 : 664. 
 
 378. Wherein did the Emperor, in Milton's time, differ from a 
 king, as of France or England ? 
 
 381. Pit. See v. 91. 
 
 382. Roaming-. 1 Pet. 5 : 8. 
 
 384. Their altars. 2 Kings 21 : 3-7. 
 
 387. Between the Cherubim. Exod. 25 : 22; Ps. 80 : 1. 
 
 389. Abominations. Jer. 7 : 30. 
 
 390. Solemn feasts. Lam. 2 : 6. 
 
 391. Affront. Confront ? or insult ? 
 
 392. Moloch. Properly Molech. 1 Kings 11 : 7 ; 2 Kings 23 : 10. 
 Cf. P. L. 2 : 43-108 ; Od. Nat. 205-210. The word Molech means 
 ' king.' Besmeared with blood . . . and . . . tears. Zeugma. 
 
 394. Drums. Kimchi, the Jewish commentator, says : ' They 
 used to make a noise with drums, that the father might not hear the 
 cry of his child and have pity on him.' 
 
 395. Passed through fire. Lev. 18 : 21 ; Ps. 106 : 37, 38 ; Jer. 
 32 : 35. 
 
 397. Rabba. 2 Sam. 12 : 26, 27. 
 
 398. Argob, Basan. Deut. 3 : 13. 
 
 399. Arnon. Deut. 3 : 12, 16. The Arnon was the boundary 
 between Moab and Israel. 
 
 400. Wisest heart. Transferred epithet ? 
 
 401. Build. 1 Kings 11 : 7 ; 2 Kings 23 : 13. 
 
 403. Grove. Deut 16 : 21 ; 1 Kings 15 : 13 ; Exod. 34 : 13, 14. 
 
 404. Hinnom, Tophet. Jer. 7 : 31 ; 2 Chr. 28 : 31. 
 
 405. Gehenna. A Greek word derived from Hinnom, and in the 
 New Testament translated ' hell ; ' so in Matt. 5 : 29, etc. 
 
 406. Chemos. 2 Kings 23 : 13. 
 
 407. Aroar. 1 Chr. 5 : 8. Nebo. Deut. 34 : 1. 
 
 408. Abarim. Num. 33 : 47; Deut. 32 : 49. Hesebon. Milton 
 frequently uses the Vulgate forms in s, instead of s7i. Num. 21 : 26. 
 
140 NOTES. 
 
 409. Horonaim. Jer. 48 : 1-3. Seon. Vulg. Sehou, Auth. Vers. 
 Sihon. Num. 21 : 26. 
 
 410. Sibma. Isa. 16 : 9 ; Jer. 48 : 32. 
 
 411. Eleale. Isa. 16 : 9; Jer. 48:34. Asphaltic Pool. The 
 Greek and Latin name for the Dead Sea. Were the places named to 
 the east or to the west of the Dead Sea and the Jordan ? 
 
 412. Peor. This is Jerome's identification. Num. 25 : 1-3, 9, 
 18. See Od, Nat. 197. 
 
 416. Hill of scandal. See v. 403. 
 
 417. Lust hard by hate. Cf. P. L. 9 : 1121-1131, and 2 Sam. 
 13 : 15. 
 
 418. Drove. 2 Kings 23. 
 
 419. Bordering. Geii. 15 : 18. 
 
 420. Old. Because noticed in Gen. 2 : 14. Brook. Newton 
 suggests Besor, 1 Sam. 30 : 9. 
 
 422. Baalim and Ashtaroth. Judg. 2 : 11-13; 10 : 6. Both 
 words are plurals. Baal was the supreme male divinity of the 
 Phoenician and Canaanitish peoples, As(h)toreth (Greek Astarte) 
 their supreme female divinity. Cf. Od. Nat. 197 ; P. R. 3 : 117. 
 
 426. Cf. P.L.8: 624-625. 
 
 433. Living Strength. 1 Sam. 15 : 29. 
 
 436. Bowed down. Judg. 2 : 14, 15; Ps. 106 : 40-42. 
 
 438. Astoreth. Singular of Ashtaroth. See Od. Nat. 200. Gay- 
 ley, Classic Myths, p. 424: ' All Semitic nations, except the Hebrews, 
 worshiped a supreme goddess who presided over the moon (or the Star 
 of Love), and over all animal and vegetable life and growth. She 
 was the Istar of the Assyrians, the Astarte of the Phoenicians, and 
 is the analogue of the Greek Aphrodite and the Latin Venus.' 
 
 441. Zeugma. 
 
 443. Offensive mountain. See v. 403. 
 
 444. Large. 1 Kings 4 : 29. 
 
 445. Idolatresses. 1 Kings 11 : 1-5. 
 
 446. Thammuz. Ezek. 8 : 13, 14. See Od. Nat. 204. Gayley, 
 Classic Myths, pp. 450-451 : ' Adonis ... is the Phoenician Adon, or 
 the Hebrew Adonai, "Lord." The myth derives its origin from the 
 Babylonian worship of Thammuz or Adon, who represents the ver- 
 dure of spring, and whom his mistress, the goddess of fertility, seeks, 
 after his death, in the lower regions. With their departure all birth 
 and fruitage cease on the earth. . . . His burial is attended with 
 
BOOK I. 141 
 
 lamentations. . . . The beautiful loth Idyl of Theocritus contains a 
 typical Psalm of Adonis, sung at Alexandria, for his resurrection.' 
 See Comus 998-1002, and my edition of Addison's Criticisms on Para- 
 dise Lost, p. 47. 
 
 447. Annual wound. Cf. Ovid, Met. 10 : 727. 
 
 449. Amorous ditties. See P. L. 11 : 584. 
 
 450. Smooth. See Vac. Ex. 100; Comus 825; P. L. 4 : 459. 
 45(5. Dark idolatries. Ezek. 8 : 12. 
 
 459. Maimed. 1 Sam. 5:1-5. 
 
 460. Grunsel. For groundsill, threshold. 
 
 462. Dagon. Cf. S. A., passim, hut especially vv. 437-478. 
 
 463. Pish. In 1 Sam. 5 : 4, the marginal reading for ' stump ' is 
 ' fishy part ; ' the stem dag means ' fish.' The fish-like form was a 
 natural emblem of fruitfulness. Were the Philistines a sea-faring 
 people ? 
 
 464. Azotus. N. T. name for Ashdod (Acts 8 : 40). 
 
 465. Ascalon. For these cities see 1 Sam. 6 : 17. 
 
 466. Accaron. Vulgate form of Ekron. 
 
 467. 2 Kings 5 : 18. 
 
 469. Abbana and Pharphar. 2 Kings 5 : 12. Milton's spelling 
 Abbana has no authority. The Authorized and Revised Versions 
 have Pharpar. Lucid streams. Quintilian, X. xii. 60, ' amnis luci- 
 dus; ' so Ovid, Met. 2 : 365, ' lueidus amnis.' 
 
 471. Leper. 2 Kings 5 : 1-14. 
 
 472. Ahaz. 2 Kings 16 ; 2 Chron. 28 : 20-24. 
 
 477. Crew. See v. 51. 
 
 478. What can you discover about these divinities ? See Od. Nat. 
 211-220. 
 
 479. Abused. See P. P. 1 : 455. Define. 
 
 481. See Ovid, Met. 5 : 321-331: ' Typhosus, sent forth from the 
 lowest realms of the earth, had struck terror into the inhabitants of 
 Heaven, and they had all turned their backs in flight, until the 
 land of Egypt had received them in their weariness. . . . The gods 
 above had concealed themselves under assumed shapes, . . . the sis- 
 ter of Phoebus as a cat, Juno, the daughter of Saturn, as a snow-white 
 cow, . . . Mercury, the Cyllenian god, beneath the wings of an ibis.' 
 So Apollodorus, I. vi. 3. 
 
 482. Scape. Not 'scape; cf. scapegrace. 
 
 483. Borrowed. Exod. 12 : 35. 
 
142 NOTES. 
 
 484. Calf. Exod. 32 : 4; Ps. 106 : 19. King. 1 Kings 12 : 28, 29. 
 
 486. Likening. Ps. 106 : 20. 
 
 487. Passed. Exod. 12 : 42. 
 
 488. Equaled. Exod. 12 : 29. 
 
 489. Bleating. Cf. Shak., W. T. IV. iv. 29. 
 
 490. Belial. 2 Cor. 6 : 15. In the O. T., Belial is not to be re- 
 garded as a proper name, nor as standing for a deity, but as meaning 
 ' worthlessness,' 'wickedness,' almost in the abstract. See P. I. 
 2 : 108-228. 
 
 495. Eli's sons. 1 Sam. 2 : 12, 22. 
 
 497-502. Cf. P. L. 11 : 714-718. Was Milton thinking of any 
 contemporaries ? 
 
 502. Flown. The participle oiflij, confused with that of flow, as 
 occasionally in Spenser and Shakespeare. The word here seems to 
 mean 'debauched,' like the Lat. fluens ; cf. Liv. VII. xxix. 5, 
 ' Campani fluentes luxu.' For such a use of the past participle in 
 the sense of the present, cf. 'fair-spoken,' Shak., Hen. VIII. IV. ii. 
 52; 'moulten,' 1 Hen. IV. III. i. 152; and ' forgotten ' = forgetful, 
 Ant. I. iii. 91; Abbott, Shak. Gram., § 374. 
 
 503. Sodom. Gen. 19 : 4-8. 
 
 504. Gibeah. Judges 19 : 16-25. The hospitable doors. The 
 first edition has hospitable doors. 
 
 505. Exposed a matron. The first edition has yielded their 
 matrons. 
 
 506. Prime. Chief. 
 
 508. Ionian. This word is etymologically akin to Javan, and the 
 Ionians were descended from Javan. Javan's. Gen. 10 : 2. Held. 
 Accounted, considered. 
 
 510. Titan. Meaning Oceanus. So in Hesiod, Theog. 133. 
 
 511. Brood. The Oceanids, Hes., Theog. 337 ff. 
 
 512. Saturn. Rather, Cronos. See Hes., Theog. 168 ff. 
 
 513. Son. Hes., Theog. 453 ff. 
 
 514. Crete. Hes., Theog. 477 ff. 
 
 515. Ida. In Crete ; see Pausanias V. vii. 6. Thence. Leaving 
 that place. Snowy. So II. 1 : 420 ; 18 : 615. 
 
 517. Delphian cliff. Parnassus. So called by Sophocles, O. T. 
 463 ; cf. Od. Nat. 178. 
 
 518. Dodona. Ochjs. 14 : 327 : ' He had gone, he said, to Dodona, 
 to hear the counsel of Zeus from the high leafy oak tree of the god.' 
 
BOOK I. 143 
 
 519. Saturn. j£n. 8 : 319-325. But Saturn is not there repre- 
 sented as having companions. 
 
 520. Adria. The Adriatic Sea. Hesperian. Italian, or, per- 
 haps, Italian and Spanish. 
 
 521. Celtic. Used as a noun, as in Latin and Greek. N. W. 
 Europe is meant. Roamed. With direct object ; cf. P. L. 9 : 82 ; 
 P. R. 1 : 502. Utmost. British. Cf. Plutarch (Cessation of Oracles 
 18) : ' Demetrius said, that of the islands lying about Britain there 
 were many desert. ... In that region also, they said, Saturn was 
 confined in one of the islands by Briareus, and lay asleep.' To the 
 same effect he says (Apparent Face in the 3Ioon's Orb 2G) : ' In one 
 of which [islands] the barbarians fable that Saturn is imprisoned by 
 Jupiter, while his son lies by his side, as though keeping guard over 
 those islands and the sea.' 
 
 523. Damp. Cf. P. L. 10 : 848 ; 11 : 293, 544. 
 
 528. Cf. P. L. 9 : 471. 
 
 529. Worth, not substance. Cf. Spenser, F. Q. II. ix. 2. 9. 
 
 530. First edition, fainted, which would then have been good 
 English, since faint is used as a transitive verb by Chaucer and 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 531. Straight. Define. 
 
 532. Clarions. A clarion is a shrill-sounding trumpet with a 
 narrow tube. Cf. Fairfax's Tasso 1 : 74. Note the imitative sound. 
 
 533. Claimed. So in Piers Plowman, C. 23 : 95-96 : — 
 
 Elde the hore was in the vauntwarde 
 
 And bar the baner byfore Deth ; by right he hit claymede. 
 
 534. Azazel. This is the Hebrew word rendered ' scapegoat ' in 
 Lev. 16, but it has also been rendered ' strong in retreating,' and used 
 as a proper name ' for some demon or devil by several ancient authors, 
 Jewish and Christian.' 
 
 536. Imperial. Cf. P. L. 1 : 378 ; 2 : 446 ; 5 : 801. Ensign. Cf. 
 P. L. 6 : 775-776. In the following extract from Webster's Reply to 
 Hayne, point out the words taken from this passage : 'Let their last 
 feeble and lingering glance rather behold the gorgeous ensign of the 
 Republic, now known and honored throughout the earth, still full high 
 advanced, its arms and trophies streaming in their original lustre.' 
 
 Advanced. Not ' carried forward ,' as is shown by P. L. 5 : 588-590, 
 but 'uplifted,' or perhaps 'waved,' as frequently in Shakespeare. 
 
144 NOTES. 
 
 537-543. Memorize. 
 
 538. Emblazed. See P. L. 5 : 592. The New Eng. Diet, distin- 
 guishes the senses in these two instances. 
 
 540. Leigh Hunt, What is Poetry, remarks : ' Strength is the 
 muscle of verse, and shows itself in the number and force of the 
 marked syllables ; as, 
 
 Sonorous metal blowing martial sounds. 
 
 Unexpected locations of the accent double this force, and render it 
 characteristic of passion and abruptness. And here comes into play 
 the reader's corresponding fineness of ear, and his retardations and 
 accelerations in accordance with those of the poet : — 
 
 Then in the keyhole turns 
 The intricate wards, and every bolt and bar 
 [Of massy iron or solid rock with ease] 
 Unfastens. On a sudden open fly 
 With impetuous recoil and jarring sound 
 The infernal doors, and on their hinges grate 
 Harsh thunder. 
 
 Ab6minable, iniitterable, and worse 
 Than fables yet have feigned. 
 
 Wallowing unwieldy, enormous in their gait.' 
 
 How many words of Latin origin are there in this line? 
 
 543. Reign. Kingdom; Lat. regnum. Chaos and old Night. 
 Frequently associated by Milton, as in P. L. 2 : 895, 970 ; 3 : 18 ; 10 : 
 477. Night is the daughter of Chaos, according toHesiod, Theog. 123. 
 
 545. Ten thousand. How does this compare with the number 
 in P. L. 5 : 588? What is the Greek word for ten thousand, and 
 what English word is derived from it? 
 
 546. Orient. Bright. Is this the usual modem sense ? What is 
 the meaning of the Latin verb from which it is derived ? 
 
 547. Forest. A poetical image for spears, used by Virgil, Lucan, 
 Statius, Tasso, and Scott, and in the poem of Beowulf. Thronging. 
 See P. L.G : 83. 
 
 548. Serried. Define. See P. L. 6 : 599. 
 
BOOK I. 145 
 
 550. Landor objects : ' Thousands of years before there were phal- 
 anxes, schools of music, or Dorians.' Is this a valid criticism? If 
 not, why not ? 
 
 Dorian mood. The two great passages of ancient writers on the 
 Dorian mood, or harmony, are from Thucydides and Plato. De- 
 scribing the battle of Mantinea, b.c. 418, Thucydides says (5 : 70) : 
 ' The Argives and their allies advanced to the charge with great 
 fury and determination. The Lacedaemonians moved slowly and to 
 the music of many flute-players, who were stationed in their ranks, 
 and played, not as an act of religion, but in order that the army 
 might march evenly and in true measure, and that the line might 
 not break, as often happens in great armies when they go into 
 battle.' 
 
 Plato, in discussing the different kinds of music, makes Socrates 
 say (Rep. 3 : 399) : — 
 
 ' Of the harmonies I know nothing, but I want to have one war- 
 like, which will sound the word or note which a brave man utters in 
 the hour of danger and stern resolve, or when his cause is failing, 
 and he is going to wounds or death or is overtaken by some other 
 evil, and at every such crisis meets fortune with calmness and 
 endurance.' Then, after describing the Phrygian harmony, Socrates 
 adds : ' These two harmonies I ask you to leave : the strain of neces- 
 sity and the strain of freedom, the strain of the unfortunate and the 
 strain of the fortunate, the strain of courage and the strain of tem- 
 perance; these, I say, leave.' 
 
 Professor Gildersleeve says {Pindar, p. lxxv) : ' The Dorian mood 
 was manly and imposing, like the Dorians themselves; not expan- 
 sive nor lively, but grave and strong. What it lacked in liveliness 
 and variety, it made up by steadiness and impressiveness. ... It is 
 the mood for the tug of war, where the staying quality is priceless.' 
 
 551. Recorders. A kind of flageolet. The word occurs in 
 Shakespeare, Haml. III. ii. 303, 360; M. N. D. V. 123. On the latter 
 Rolfe has: ' Nares says the instrument was so called because birds 
 were taught to record by it; one of the meanings of record being "to 
 worble." Cf. Browne, Brit. Past. 2:4: — 
 
 The nymph did earnestly contest 
 Whether the hirds or she recorded best.' 
 
 556. Swage. See S. A. 184. 
 
146 NOTES. 
 
 560. Breathing united force. From II. 3 : 8 : ' But on the other 
 side marched the Achaians in silence breathing courage, eager at 
 heart to give succor man to man.' 
 
 561. Charmed. Two things should be remembered about this 
 word — its connection with music and with magic, both through 
 Lat. carmen. See P. L. 2 : 566. 
 
 563. Horrid. What is the primary sense of this word in Latin ? 
 Cf. P. L.2 : 710, and ' bristled,' P. L. 6 : 82. 
 
 568. Traverse. Pronounce. 
 
 569. Battalion. See P. L. 6 : 534. 
 571. Sums. Cf. 1 Chr. 21 : 1-5. 
 
 Landor says: 'I wish he had not ended one verse with "his 
 heart," and the next with " his strength." ' One might add that the 
 collocation of ' heart ' and ' hardened ' in successive lines is not musi- 
 cal; but cf. Exod. 8 : 15; Dan. 5 : 20. 
 
 571-587. Jebb {Homer, pp. 16-17) has the following interesting 
 remarks : — 
 
 ' It is . . . important ... to perceive the broad difference between the 
 Homeric epic and the literary epic of later ages. The literary epic is com- 
 posed, in an age of advanced civilization, by a learned poet. His taste and 
 style have been influenced by the writings of many poets before him. He 
 commands the historical and antiquarian literature suitable to bis design. 
 He composes with a view to cultivated readers, wbo will feel the more 
 recondite charms of style, and will understand the literary allusions. The 
 general character of the literary epic is well illustrated by the great passage 
 of Paradise Lost where Milton is saying how far " beyond compare of mor- 
 tal prowess " were the legions of the fallen Archangel. . . . 
 
 It is a single and a simple thought — the exceeding might of Satan's 
 followers — that Milton here enforces by example after example. A large 
 range of literature is laid under contribution, — the classical poets, the 
 Arthurian cycle, the Italian romances of chivalry, the French legends of 
 Charlemagne. The lost angels are measured against the Giants, the Greek 
 heroes, the Knights of the Round Table, the champions of the Cross or the 
 Crescent, and the paladins slain at Roncesvalles. Every name is a literary 
 reminiscence. By the time that " Aspramont " is reached, we begin to feel 
 that the progress of the enumeration is no longer adding anything to our 
 conception of prowess ; we begin to be aware that, in those splendid verses, 
 the poet is exhibiting his erudition. But this characteristic of the literary 
 epic — its proneness to employ the resources of learning for the production 
 of a cumulative effect — is only one of the traits which are exemplified by 
 this passage. Homer Mould not have said, as Milton does, that, in compar- 
 
BOOK I. 147 
 
 ison with the exiled Spirits, all the chivalry of human story was no better 
 than, " that small infantry warred on by cranes ;" Homer would have said 
 that it was no better than the Pygmies. Homer says plainly and directly 
 what he means ; the literary epic likes to say it allusively ; and observe the 
 turn of Milton's expression, — " that small infantry ; " i.e., " the small infan- 
 try which, of course, you remember in the third book of the Iliad." Lastly, 
 remark Milton's phrase, " since created Man," meaning, " since the creation 
 of Man." Tbe idiom, so familiar in Greek and Latin, is not English, and so 
 it gives a learned air to the style ; the poet is at once felt to be a scholar, 
 and the poem to be a work of the study. Homer's language is everywhere 
 noble, but then it is also natural. So, within the compass of these few 
 lines, three characteristics may be seen which broadly distinguish the liter- 
 ary epic from Homer. It is learnedly elaborate, while Homer is spontane- 
 ous ; it is apt to be allusive, while Homer is direct ; in language it is often 
 artificially subtle, while Homer, though noble, is plain.* 
 
 Cf. Garnett, Milton, p. 152. 
 
 572. In his strength. Modifies what? 
 
 573. ' What an admirable pause is here [after glories]! ' — Lan- 
 dor. 
 
 Since created man. A Latinism, for ' since the creation of 
 man.' Cf. Comus 48; P. L. 5 : 247; 10 : 332, 687; and the common 
 phrase ab urbe condita = 'after the foundation of the City.' 
 
 574-576. Landor would omit the words between force and 
 though, together with the word giant. 
 
 575. Addison censures this as a pun (p. 39 of my edition). Cf. 
 Jebb, supra. 
 
 576. Warred on by cranes. Cf. II. 3 : 3-6. 
 
 577. Phlegra. In Pindar's (522?-443? B.C.) first Nemean ode, 
 Teiresias prophesies of Herakles, ' saying that when on Phlegra's 
 plain the gods should meet the giants in battle, beneath the rush 
 of his arrows their bright hair should be soiled with earth.' Ovid 
 (43 b.c-17 a.d.) represents Apollo as declaring {Met. 10: 150-151): 
 ' In loftier strains have I sung of the Giants, and the victorious 
 thunderbolts scattered over the Phlegr&an plains.' Phlegra was in 
 Thrace. 
 
 578. Name some of those that fought at Thebes and Ilium. 
 
 579. Anxiliar. Rare in this form. 
 
 580. Uther's son. King Arthur. See Tennyson, Palace of Art 
 105, and The Coming of Arthur. 
 
 581. Modern name of Armorica? 
 
148 NOTES. 
 
 583. Jousted. Define and pronounce. 
 
 Aspramont, 3Iontalban. ' Romantic names of places mentioned 
 in Orlando Furioso.' — Newton. 
 
 584. ' All these places are famous in romances for joustings be- 
 tween the baptized and infidels.' — Newton. Landor objects to 
 Damasco as being un-English, and as causing hiatus with the next 
 word. The form is Italian ; see Ariosto, Orl. Fur. 17 : 18 ; 18 : 3 ff . 
 
 For Milton's 'muster-rolls of names,' cf. P.L. 4:268-283; 11: 
 388-411; Introduction, p. 33; and especially Macaulay's Essay on 
 Milton. Authors like Coleridge and Longfellow often excel in this 
 particular. 
 
 585. ' That is, the Saracens who passed from Biserta in Africa to 
 Spain.' — Newton. 
 
 586. ' Mariana and the Spanish historians are Milton's authors for 
 saying that he and his army were routed in this manner at Fonta- 
 rabbia, which is a strong town in Biscay at the very entrance into 
 Spain, and esteemed the key of the kingdom.' — Newton. Cf. Mar- 
 mion 6 : 33. Was Charlemagne slain on that occasion ? 
 
 588. Compare. See P. L. 3 : 138 ; 6 : 705 ; 9 : 228 ; S. A. 556. Per- 
 haps originally compeer (so New Eng. Diet. s. v.). 
 
 Observed. Cf. Virgil, Georg. 4:210-212: 'Neither Egypt, nor 
 mighty Lydia, nor the Parthian tribes, nor Median Hydaspes, so 
 deeply reverence (observant) their king.' For a similar, but not 
 identical use, see P. L. 10 : 430. 
 
 589-599. Cf. Lewes, Principles of Success in Literature: ' Burke, 
 in his Essay on the Sublime and Beautiful, lays down the proposition 
 that distinctness of imagery is often injurious to the effect of art. 
 " It is one thing," he says, " to make an idea clear, another to make it 
 affecting to the imagination. If I make a drawing of a palace or a 
 temple or a landscape, I present a very clear idea of those objects ; 
 but then (allowing for the effect of imitation, which is something) 
 my picture can at most affect only as the palace, temple, or land- 
 scape would have affected in reality. On the other hand, the most 
 lively and spirited verbal description 1 can give raises a very obscure 
 and imperfect idea of such objects ; but then it is in my power to 
 raise a stronger emotion by the description than I can do by the best 
 painting. This experience constantly evinces. The proper'manner 
 of conveying the affections of the mind from one to the other is by 
 words; there is great insufficiency in all other method of communi- 
 
BOOK I. 149 
 
 cation ; and so far is a clearness of imagery from being absolutely- 
 necessary to an influence upon the passions, that they may be con- 
 siderably operated upon without presenting any image at all, by 
 certain sounds adapted to that purpose." If by image is meant only 
 what the eye can see, Burke is undoubtedly right. But this is obvi- 
 ously not our restricted meaning of the word when we speak of 
 poetic imagery; and Burke's error becomes apparent when he pro- 
 ceeds to show that there " are reasons in nature why an obscure idea, 
 when properly conveyed, should be more affecting than the clear." 
 He does not seem to have considered that the idea of an indefinite 
 object can only be properly conveyed by indefinite images; any 
 image of Eternity or Death that pretended to visual distinctness 
 would be false. Having overlooked this, he says, " We do not any- 
 where meet a more sublime description than this justly celebrated 
 one of Milton, wherein he gives the portrait of Satan with a dignity 
 so suitable to the subject. . . . Here is a very noble picture," adds 
 Burke, " and in what does this poetical picture consist? In images 
 of a tower, an archangel, the sun rising through mists, or an eclipse, 
 the ruin of monarchs, and the revolution of kingdoms." Instead of 
 recognising the imagery here as the source of the power, he says, 
 "The mind is hurried out of itself [rather a strange result!] by a 
 crowd of great and confused images ; which affect because they are 
 crowded and confused. For, separate them, and you lose much of 
 the greatness; and join them, and you infallibly lose the clearness." 
 This is altogether a mistake. The images are vivid enough to make 
 us feel the hovering presence of an awe-inspiring figure having the 
 height and firmness of a tower, and the dusky splendour of a ruined 
 archangel. The poet indicates only that amount of concreteness 
 which is necessary for the clearness of the picture, — only the height 
 and firmness of the tower and the brightness of the sun in eclipse. 
 More concreteness would disturb the clearness by calling attention to 
 irrelevant details. To suppose that these images produce the effect 
 because they are crowded and confused (they are crowded and not 
 confused) is to imply that any other images would do equally well, 
 if they were equally crowded. " Separate them, and you lose much 
 of the greatness." Quite true; the image of the tower would want 
 the splendor of the sun. But this much may be said of all descrip- 
 tions which proceed upon details. And so far from the impressive 
 clearness of the picture vanishing in the crowd of images, it is by 
 
150 NOTES. 
 
 these images that the clearness is produced; the details make it 
 impressive, and affect our imagination.' 
 
 589-602. He . . . faded cheek. Memorize. 
 
 589-620. ' Where, in poetry or painting, shall we find anything 
 that approaches the suhlimity of that description ? ' — Landor. 
 
 590. Eminent. Etymological meaning ? 
 
 591. Stood like a tower. Probahly from Dante, Purg. 5 : 14, 
 'Sta come torre ferma,' who may have had in mind Statius or Sen- 
 eca. Cf., however, 2 Sam. 22 : 3; Ps. 18 : 2; 144 : 2; Jer. 6 : 27. 
 
 591-593. Matthew Arnold, On Translating Homer, says: 'I may 
 discuss what, in the abstract, constitutes the grand style ; hut that 
 sort of general discussion never much helps our judgment of particu- 
 lar instances. I may say that the presence or absence of the grand 
 style can only be spiritually discerned ; and this is true, but to plead 
 this looks like evading the difficulty. My best way is to take emi- 
 nent specimens of the grand style. . . . For example, when Homer 
 says : — 
 
 d\kd, 4>i\o<;, Gave /cat <rv' tit) a\v(/>vpeai oiirtos ; 
 Kardave kou IIaTpoKA.o?, onep aeo ttoAAoj' a^eivtav, 
 
 (Be content, good friend, die also thou ! why lamentest thou thyself on 
 this wise? Patroclus, too, died, who was a far better than thou.) — Iliad 
 21 : 106-107. 
 
 that is in the grand style. When Virgil says : — 
 
 Disce, puer, virtutem ex me verumque laborem, 
 Fortunam ex aliis, 
 
 (From me, young man, learn nobleness of soul and true effort : learn suc- 
 cess from others.) — JEneid 12 : 435-436. 
 
 that is in the grand style. When Dante says : — 
 
 Lascio lo fele, et vo pei dolci pomi 
 Promessi a me per lo verace Duca ; 
 Ma fino al centro pria convien ch' io tomi, 
 
 (I leave the gall of bitterness, and I go for the apples of sweetness prom- 
 ised unto me by my faithful Guide ; but far as the centre it behoves me first 
 to fall.) —Inferno 16 : 61-63. 
 
 that is jn the grand style. When Milton says : — 
 
BOOK I. 151 
 
 His form had yet not lost 
 All her original brightness, nor appeared 
 Less than Archangel ruined, and the excess 
 Of glory obscured, 
 
 — P.L.I: 591-593. 
 that, finally, is in the grand style.' 
 
 592. Her. Cf. Ps. 137 : 5. What is the gender of Lat. forma? 
 594. Sun. Cf. Rich. II. III. iii. 62-67. 
 
 597. Disastrous. There is a latent astrological sense in this word, 
 as in disaster, Haml. I. i. 118. Explain. See Trench, Study of 
 Words, Lect. IV. Were eclipses formerly regarded as portentous ? 
 
 598-599. With fear, etc. ' It is said that this noble poem was in 
 danger of being suppressed by the licenser on account of this simile.' 
 — Newton. 
 
 599-602. See note on vv. 108-109. 
 
 601. Intrenched. So Shakespeare, A. W. II. i. 45. 
 
 603. Considerate. Cf. Rich. III. IV. ii. 30. 
 
 604. Revenge. Cf. v. 107. 
 
 605. Remorse and passion. Define. Is this perhaps an instance 
 of hendiadys, as in Virgil, Georg. 2 : 192 ? 
 
 609. Amerced. Deprived. The word carries with it the sugges- 
 tion of a penalty or fine. Cf. Rom. and Jul. III. i. 195. 
 
 611. How. Follows behold, v. 605. 
 
 612. Heaven's fire. Old English has heofonfyr for lightning ; 
 see my First Book in Old English, Selection VIII. 
 
 613. Scathed. Define. 
 
 614. Growth. Cf. Comus 270 ; P. L. 4 : 629. 
 
 615. Blasted heath. From Macb. I. iii. 77. 
 
 616. Bend. So in P. L. 4 : 978-980. 
 
 619. Thrice. Imitated from Ovid, Met. 11 : 419-421 : ' Three times 
 attempting to speak, three times she moistens her face with tears, 
 and sobs interrupting her affectionate complaints, she says.' Cf. 
 Spenser, F. Q. I. ii. 41. 7-8. 
 
 620. ' What an admirable pause [after forth] ! ' — Landor. 
 
 624. Not inglorious. So Ovid, Met. 9 : 5-6: ' JSFor was it so dis- 
 graceful to be overcome, as it is glorious to have engaged.' Event. 
 Issue, result. Cf. v. 134. 
 
 625. Does not the repetition of dire look like an inadvertence ? 
 627. Foreseeing or presaging. How are these two verbs to be 
 
 discriminated ? 
 
152 NOTES. 
 
 629. How. How is sometimes used at the beginning of object 
 clauses, in the sense of that, with an added connotation of manner. 
 Cf. vv. 217, 611, 695, 740. United force. Cf. v. 560. 
 
 632. Puissant. Define. 
 
 633. Emptied Heaven. Cf. Rev. 12 : 4; P. L. 2 : 692; 5 : 710; 
 6 : 156. Gregory the Great makes the number of fallen angels one- 
 half of the whole. In the Pseudo-Caedmon the number is not made 
 specific. The phrase here is rhetorical exaggeration. 
 
 634. Self-raised. Cf. P. L. 2 : 75-81. Do not neglect the expla- 
 nation given by Dante, Par. 1 : 82-142. 
 
 636. Host of Heaven. Cf . P. P. 1 : 416 ; 1 Kings 22 : 19. For 
 another sense see Deut. 4 : 19 ; 2 Kings 17 : 16. 
 
 642. 'But tempted our attempt. Such a play on words would be 
 unbecoming in the poet's own person, and even on the lightest sub- 
 ject, but is most injudicious and intolerable in the mouth of Satan, 
 about to assail the Almighty.' — Landor. 
 
 Cicero has statuam statuerunt, cursus cucurrerunt, and similar 
 phrases. Addison (p. 40 of my edition) allows that ' some of the 
 greatest ancients have been guilty ' of this kind of speech, but calls 
 it 'poor and trifling.' 
 
 645. Provoked. When once it has been provoked. A use of 
 the participle common in Greek and Latin. 
 
 650. Space. Why not God ? 
 
 651. Fame. Rumor, report. So in Latin. 
 656. Eruption. See P. L. 8 : 235. 
 
 660-662. Despaired. Like Latin desperatus. So think (cf. P. L. 
 9 : 830). 
 
 662. Understood. Cf . P. L. 1 : 121 ; 2 : 187. How has Satan 
 brought them to this resolve? What objections would they have 
 made at first ? 
 
 664. Millions of flaming swords. So Fairfax's Tasso, 5 : 28 : — 
 
 With that a thousand blades of burnished steel 
 Glistered on heaps like flames of fire in sight. 
 
 This may have been suggested by Silius Italicus 1 : 500. 
 664. Thighs. A Homeric expression ; thus II. 1 : 194. 
 666-668. Highly . . . war. Onomatopoetic. Highly . . . 
 Highest. Another etymological paronomasia, as in v. 642. 
 
 668. Milton may have had in mind Ammianus Marcellinus 
 
BOOK I. 153 
 
 (XXV. iii. 10), speaking, under date of a.d. 363, of Julian the Apos- 
 tate: 'When he was brought back to his tent, the soldiers flew to 
 avenge him, agitated with anger and sorrow; and, striking their 
 spears against their shields, determined to die if Fate so ordered it.' 
 According to the same author (XV. viii. 15), applause was indicated 
 by the rattling of shields against the knees, while striking the shield 
 with the spear was a token of anger and indignation. This was with 
 reference to the applause following Constantius' speech to Julian, on 
 giving him the title of Caesar, a.d. 355. Bentley, therefore, would 
 seem to have been in error, when, in his comment on the Miltonic 
 line, he said : ' The known custom of the Roman soldiers, when they 
 applauded a speech of their general, was to smite their shields with 
 their swords.' If he has in mind Scipio Africanus' address (b.o. 207) 
 to the mutineers in Spain (Liv. 28 : 29), at which the loyal troops 
 clashed their swords upon their shields, this is expressly stated to 
 have been for the purpose of inspiring terror in the others. Other- 
 wise the custom of applauding by the rattling of weapons was Celtic 
 (Caesar, B. G. VII. xxi. 1.) or Germanic (Tacitus, Germ. 11 ; Hist. 
 V. xvii. 4). 
 
 670. Grisly. Cf . P. L. 2 : 701 ; 4 : 821 ; P. R. 4 : 430. Define. 
 
 671. Belched. Like Lat. eructare, as in Mn. 3 : 576. 
 
 672-673. Landor remarks : ' It was hardly worth his while to 
 display in this place his knowledge of mineralogy, or his recollection 
 that Virgil, in the wooden horse before Troy, had said, 
 
 Uterumque armato rnilite complent ; 
 
 and that some modern poets had followed him.' But cf. Haml. 
 
 I. i. 136-137: — 
 
 Or if thou hast uphoarded in thy life 
 Extorted treasure in the womb of earth. 
 
 674. Cf. Jonson, Alchemist, Act 2, Sc. 1: 
 
 It turns to sulphur, or to quicksilver, 
 Who are the parents of all other metals. 
 
 Special appropriateness of sulphur here ? 
 
 Winged with speed. For this and similar collocations of winged 
 and speed, see P. L. 2 : 700 ; 4 : 788 ; 5 : 744. So ' winged haste,' 
 Shakespeare, 1 Hen. IV. IV. iv. 2. 
 
154 NOTES. 
 
 675. Brigade. Milton's spelling is brigad. The stress is of 
 course on the first syllable. 
 
 675-678. ' Nothing is gained to the celestial host by comparing it 
 with the terrestrial. Angels are not promoted by brigading with 
 sappers and miners.' — Landor. 
 
 676. Pioneers. Milton spells, pioners. 
 
 677. Camp. Perbaps nearly = army, as in Sams. Agon. 1497. 
 
 678. Cast. Cf. Od. Nat. 123. Mammon. ' This name is Syriac, 
 and signifies riches. Ye cannot serve God and Mammon, says our 
 Saviour, Matt. 6 : 24. . . •. Some look upon Mammon as the God of 
 riches, and Mammon is accordingly made a person by our poet, and 
 was so by Spenser before him, whose description of Mammon and 
 his cave our poet seems to have had his eye upon in several places.' 
 — Newton. 
 
 For Spenser's Mammon see F. Q. Bk. 2, Canto 7, the whole of 
 which is well worth reading with care. For Milton's view of riches 
 see P. R.I: 426-456. For Mammon's speech see P. L.I: 229-283. 
 
 679. Erected. Not only 'erect,' 'upright,' but also 'aspiring,' 
 'high-souled,' as in P. R. 3 : 27; a sense of Lat. erectus. So Cicero 
 couples celsus and erectus, now in the literal, now in the figurative 
 sense. 
 
 679-684. Mammon . . . beatific. Memorize. 
 682. Heaven's pavement. Rev. 21 : 21 ; cf . 11. 4:2,' golden floor.' 
 684. Vision beatific. Cf . On Time 18 ; P. L. 3 : 62. The beatific 
 vision is the direct vision of God, as described by Dante in the last 
 canto of the Divine Comedy. Cf. vv. 97-105 (Cary's trans.) : — 
 
 With fixed heed, suspense and motionless, 
 
 Wondering I gazed ; and admiration still 
 
 Was kindled, as I gazed. It may not be 
 
 That one who looks upon that light can turn 
 
 To other object, willingly, his view. 
 
 For all the good that will may covet, there 
 
 Is summed ; and all, elsewhere defective found, 
 
 Complete. 
 
 685-687. So Ovid, Met. 138-140: 'Men even descended into the 
 entrails of the earth ; and riches were dug up, the incentives to vice, 
 which the earth had hidden.' 
 
 688. Treasures better hid. From Horace, Od. III. iii. 49-50: 
 ' Undiscovered gold, then better placed when earth conceals it still.' 
 
BOOK I. 155 
 
 689. Wound. Cf. Ovid, Met. 1:101-102: 'The earth . . . 
 wounded by no ploughshares.' Again, in Met. 2 : 286-287, the Earth 
 speaks: ' I endure toounds from the crooked plough.' 
 
 690. Digged. Why not dug? Admire. Wonder. So P. L. 
 2 : 677. A Latinism. 
 
 690-692. Let none . . . bane. Memorize. 
 
 692. Precious bane. An oxymoron, like ' pious fraud,' or Shake- 
 speare's (Rom. I. i. 186) ' Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, 
 sick health.' 
 
 693. Boast in. The in, for of, is possibly a Latinism. Cf. Ps. 
 44 : 8 ; also Ps. 34 : 2. 
 
 694. Babel. Cf. P. L. 3 : 466-468. Others explain it as Babylon, 
 or the temple of Belus in that city. Works. Probably the Pyra- 
 mids. Ancient authors relate that 360,000 men were employed for 
 nearly twenty years on one of the Pyramids. Memphian. See note 
 on v. 307. 
 
 696. Newton explains strength and art as nominatives. 
 700. Cells. Furnaces; see v.' 706. 
 
 703. Founded. Fused, melted; so Lat. fundare. Cf. Eng. 
 foundry. 
 
 704. Bullion. Impure gold or silver. Here used as an adjec- 
 tive. Milton, in his Church Government, speaks of ' extracting gold 
 and silver out of the drossy bullion of the people's sins.' 
 
 707. Hollow nook. When an iron furnace is tapped, the molten 
 iron flows in a glowing stream down long channels in a bed of sand. 
 Side channels branch out on each side of the main channels, as near 
 to each other as possible, and these are filled with the iron. These 
 smaller channels, called ' pigs,' are what Milton evidently means by 
 1 hollow nooks.' 
 
 708. Organ. ' This simile is as exact as it is new. . . . Milton 
 frequently fetches his images from music, ... as he was very fond 
 of it, and was himself a performer upon the organ and other instru- 
 ments.' — Newton. 
 
 710-712. Memorize. 
 
 711. Like an exhalation. See II. 1 : 359, 'rose like a mist;' 
 Tennyson, Tithonus 63, ' While Ilion like a mist rose into towers.' 
 Thus buildings rose in some of the masques of the period, to the 
 sound of music. At the Twelfth Night masque of 1637, at White- 
 hall, ' in the further part of the scene the earth opened, and there 
 
156 NOTES. 
 
 rose up a richly adorned palace, seeming all of goldsmith's work, 
 with porticoes vaulted on pillars of rustic work. . . . Above these 
 ran an architrave, frieze, and cornice.' 
 
 712. Symphonies. Harmonies. See P. L. 3 : 368; 5 : 162; 11 : 
 595 ; Od. Nat. 132. 
 
 713. Pilasters. Define this, Doric pillars, architrave, cornice, 
 and frieze. See Addison's criticism of these terms at p. 41 of 
 my edition. 
 
 711. Doric. Cf . v. 550. Why not Corinthian ? 
 
 716. Bossy. In high relief, embossed. 
 
 717. Roof was fretted gold. ' Fretwork is fillets interwoven at 
 parallel distances. This kind of work has usually flowers in the 
 spaces, and must glitter much, especially by lamplight.' — Newton. 
 Roof may be taken in the sense of ' ceiling,' and, since fretted, may 
 translate Lat. laquear. Laquear aureum, as in sEn. 1 : 726, would 
 thus be exactly 'roof of fretted gold.' 
 
 718. Alcairo. El-Kahirah, the city of victory, now known as 
 Cairo. The city was built, after the capture of Memphis by the 
 Arabians in 638, about six miles distant from the latter. 
 
 720. Belus. The temple of Belus is described by Herodotus, 
 1 : 181-183. 
 
 723. Her stately highth. An accusative of extent. Define 
 straight. 
 
 721. So Ovid, Met. 4 : 762-763: 'The folding doors thrown open, 
 the entire gilded halls are displayed.' 
 
 725. Ample spaces. Ampla spatia is found in Seneca, Here. Fur. 
 673. 
 
 726-730. From . . . sky. Cf . ^En. 1 : 726-727 : ' From the fretted 
 roof of gold hang down the burning lamps, and night gives place to 
 flaming torches.' 
 
 728. Cressets. Define. 
 
 729. Asphaltus. Define. Why are these substances used, instead 
 of other illuminating oils? 
 
 730. Hasty. Adjective used almost as an adverb, somewhat as 
 horizontal, v. 595. 
 
 734. Sceptred angels. Like the ' sceptred chiefs ' of II. 2 : 86. 
 
 736. Gave to rule. Like Lat. mulcere cledit, jEn. 1 : 66. Cf. 
 P. L. 3 : 243; 9 : 818; P. R. 4 : 385. 
 
 737. Hierarchy. The nine orders of the hierarchy are, according 
 
BOOK I. 157 
 
 to the Pseudo-Dionysius (see note on v. 129), (1) Seraphim, (2) Cher- 
 ubim, (3) Thrones, (4) Dominions, (5) Virtues, (6) Powers, (7) Prin- 
 cipalities, (8) Archangels, (9) Angels. 
 
 740. Mulciber. Another name for Hephaistos, or Vulcan, from 
 Lat. mulcere, to soften, in allusion to this property of fire. See Ov. 
 Met. 2 : 5. 
 
 Fell. Homer puts into the mouth of Hephaistos the account of 
 his own fall. Speaking to his mother Hera, he says (II. 1 : 590-593) : 
 ' Yea, once ere this, when I was fain to save tliee, he [Zeus] caught 
 me by my foot and hurled me from the heavenly threshold ; all day 
 I flew, and at the set of sun I fell in Lemnos, and little life was in 
 me.' 
 
 742. Sheer. Define. Crystal battlements. Cf . P. L. 2 : 1049 ; 
 6 : 860. 
 
 Daniel Webster, in a letter to Rev. Mr. Brazer (Nov. 10, 1828), 
 makes the following comment on this passage: 'What art is man- 
 ifest in these few lines! The object is to express great distance 
 and great velocity, neither of which is capable of very easy sugges- 
 tion to the human mind. We are told that the angel fell a day, a 
 long summer's day; the day is broken into forenoon and afternoon, 
 that the time may seem to be protracted. He does not reach the 
 earth till sunset; and then, to represent the velocity, he " drops," one 
 of the very best words in the language to signify sudden and rapid 
 fall, and then comes a simile, " like a falling star." ' 
 
 745. Landor calls this a noble line, but insists that ' the six fol- 
 lowing are quite superfluous,' and are 'insufferable stuff.' 
 
 For the simile, cf. II. 4 : 75-78 : ' Even as the son of Kronos the 
 crooked counsellor sendeth a star, a portent for mariners or a wide 
 host of men, bright shining, and therefrom are scattered sparks in 
 multitude; even in such guise sped Pallos Athene to earth.' Cf. 
 P. R. 4 : 619-620; Comus 80-81. 
 
 746. Find Lemnos on the map. iEgaean. The stress on the first 
 syllable. 
 
 748. Availed. Cf. the similar use of xpatanuv, as in II. 5 : 53, and 
 of prodesse, AZn. 11 : 843. 
 
 750. Engines. Contrivances, devices, inventions, like Lat. in- 
 genia. 
 
 751. Sarcasm. 
 
 753. Awful. Cf. P. L. 4 : 847. Define. 
 
158 TB8. 
 
 Pandemonium. I: has been remarked that several features 
 of the building erected by Muleiber (cf. especially - " -~ | ~ J23 ff.) 
 suggest the Pantheon. This view was no doubt suggested by the 
 fact that Milton coined the word Pandemonium on the evident 
 analogy of Pantheon. The hint had been found in 
 Sonc 1 - . 40). where we read: — 
 
 On Ida hill there stands a castle strong ; 
 They that it huilt call it Pantkeothe*. 
 
 _er resort a rascal rahble throng 
 Of miscreant wights. But if that wiser men 
 May name that sort, PandemoHiathe* 
 would it clepe. 
 
 758 Sqasred. I I I 1 3 2 _ S pi u- 1 rag iment = ^quad- 
 lee the etymol _ Ethe latter word. 
 
 With this assembly of the fallen angels ci*. Fairfax - T 
 Bk. IV. Which is the more impress: 
 
 A' seeas. Entrance- way. channel of approach. So ^£n. 
 I 22 
 
 C overed field. What notion does this give us 
 of the hall? What wasl of the lists described in the seventh 
 
 chapter of Iran i 
 
 Wont ride. -eldoni used with the simple infini- 
 
 I iSh -speare the only instance is Oth. 
 II. iii. 190 (Abbott's ShaJ: ind here the folio editions 
 
 have to. In OE.. reunion sometimes had the prepositional, some- 
 times the simple infinitive. How is icont related to tm n iant 
 8 ol dan's. Soldan for Sultan, Ital. Soldano. 
 
 Paynim is i doublet of paganism, derived through the 
 Old French. It was early used in OF. itself, however, and then in 
 English, to denote " pagan : - ii. 26. etc. 
 
 What difference between these two kinds of jousting ? Cf. 
 Icanhoe, chap. viii. 
 
 " " Swarmed. C: J .1 : 
 
 768. Hiss of rustling wings. >~ lace the sibilancy. Milton 
 perhaps had in mind the Prom. Bound 124-126: — 
 
 4la.« me ! What a murmur and motion Inear 
 
 As : ": :r i- ~; : 
 
 And the air undersings 
 
 The light stroke of their wings. 
 
BOOK I. 159 
 
 As bees. II. 2 : 87-91 : ' Even as when the tribes of thronging bees 
 issue from some hollow rock, ever in fresh procession, and fly clus- 
 tering among the flowers of spring, and some on this hand and some 
 on that fly thick: even so, 5 etc. Imitated in .En. 6 : 706-709. 
 
 768-788. Landor thinks the ' poem is much better without th< 
 and in any case would retrench, in lines 772-775, or on . . . affairs. 
 
 769. Cf. Virgil, Georg. 1 : 217. 
 
 770. See Georg. 4 : 21-22. 
 
 771. Fresh dews. So Ovid, Fasti 3 : 880, 'rore recente.' See 
 also Lye. 29. 
 
 773. Straw-built. Gray has borrowed this epithet for his Elegy. 
 
 771. Balm. The melisphyllum of Georg. -4 : 63. Expatiate. 
 Wander at will; so Ovid, Met. 2 : 202, ' exspatiuntur equi.' Con- 
 fer. Talk over, discuss. A Latinism. 
 
 776. Straitened. Cf. P. L. 9 : 323. Signal given. /En. 12 : 129, 
 'dato signo.' 
 
 777. Cf . P. L. 6 : 351-353. ' I wish I had not been called upon to 
 " Behold a wonder." '—Landor. 
 
 778. Cf. v. 576. 
 
 780. Pygmean. Cf. v. 575. 
 
 781. Beyond the Indian mount. According to Pliny, Xat. 
 Hist. VII. ii. 19. 
 
 783-784. Sees,, or dreams he sees. So Mn. 6 : 454, ' Aut videt, 
 ant vidisse putat.' 
 
 785. Arbitress. Spectator. Night and Diana are called arbitrx 
 in Hor. Ep. 5 : 50. 
 
 786. Pale course. An instance of transferred epithet. sEn. 
 7 : 8-9, ' Xec Candida cursus Luna negat.' Milton may also have 
 had in mind Hor., Epist. I. iv. 5-7. 
 
 795. Recess. Retreat. Cf. P. L. 4 : 708. 
 
 796. A thousand. A round number, as often in poetry : cf . note 
 on v. 545. Golden. Inlaid with gold, probably ; so the xpvo-eio? epovos 
 of II. 8 : 442. 
 
 797. Frequent. Crowded. Apparently limits conclave, since 
 full could hardly modify a plural. May conclave be therefore used 
 in its Latin sense of ' chamber,' ' locked room ' ? This sense was then 
 current in English, and seems to agree better with recess. Or may 
 frequent and full possibly limit seats? If so. why full? Several 
 critics have here supposed that conclave alluded to the assembly 
 
160 NOTES. 
 
 of Cardinals met for the election of a Pope. See consistory, P. R. 
 1 :42. 
 
 798. Summons read. See note on v. 573. Consult. Meeting 
 
 for consultation. TheAew Eng. Diet, has: 'in 17th century often 
 specifically a secret meeting for purposes of sedition or intrigue ; a 
 cahal.' 
 
 At this point, if not before, the Introduction should he carefully 
 perused, and the views of the poet-critics in Part IV. compared with 
 those which the student himself has formed. 
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 1. High, etc. Why the inversion? The beginning may have 
 been suggested by Ovid, Met. 2:1-2: 'The palace of the Sun was 
 raised high, on stately columns, bright with radiant gold, and car- 
 buncle that rivals the flames.' See also F. Q. I. iv. 8. 
 
 1-6. High . . . eminence. Memorize. 
 
 2. Wealth of Ormus and of Ind. 'That is, diamonds, a 
 principal part of the wealth of India, where they are found, and 
 of the island Ormus, in the Persian gulf, which is [was] the mart for 
 them.' — Pearce. Perhaps Milton may have heard of the Koh-i-nur, 
 in the possession of Aurungzebe. To Ben Jonson, Ormus was the 
 island from which ■ drugs were brought. Abel Drugger, who deals 
 in tobacco and minerals used in alchemy, is indirectly promised by 
 Subtle : — 
 
 There is a ship now, coming from Ormus, 
 That shall yield him such a commodity 
 Of drugs . 
 
 Considering the relations between Andrew Marvell and Milton, it is 
 interesting to find the former writing, in his So?ig of the Emigrants 
 in Bermuda : — 
 
 He hangs in shades the orange bright 
 
 Like golden lamps in a green night, 
 
 And does in the pomegranates close 
 
 Jewels more rich than Ormus shoivs. 
 
BOOK II. 161 
 
 3. Landor suggests there for or, saying, ' Are not Ormus and 
 Ind within the gorgeous East ? ' 
 
 4. It is said that this was done at the coronation of .Tamerlane. 
 Barbaric . . . gold. From Mn. 2 : 504, 'barbarico . . . auro,' where 
 it means Phrygian or perhaps other Asiatic gold. See Shak., Ant. 
 
 II. v. 45-46: — 
 
 I'll set thee in a shower of gold, and hail 
 Rich pearls upon- thee. 
 
 Pearl. Plural. So Sonn. 12 : 8, and often in Shakespeare. 
 
 5. By merit. Like Lat. merito, deservedly, justly. 
 
 6. Eminence. Twofold sense ? Despair. See P. L. 1 : 126. 
 9. Success. Issue, result; a Shakespearian sense. 
 
 10. Proud imaginations. Cf. Luke 1 : 51 ; Jer. 3 : 17 ; Rom. 
 1 : 21 ; 2 Cor. 10 : 5. 
 
 11. Powers and Dominions. See note on 1 : 737. 
 
 14. Give. Esteem, as in Shak., W. T. III. ii. 96 : 'Your favor I 
 do give lost.' It is difficult to decide between this sense and that 
 of ' give up,' or, on the other hand, that of ' admit,' ' allow.' 
 
 18. Me though, etc. Why the inversion ? What is the last 
 verb which governs me? Cf. Hor., Od. I. v. 13. 
 
 Note that Satan will allow nothing to the election of God. 
 
 32. None, etc. Yet cf. P. L. 1 : 262-263. 
 
 33. Precedence. Pronounce. 
 
 34. That. What part of speech ? 
 
 35. With this advantage, etc. Is it true that adversity often 
 establishes closer confederations than prosperity ? 
 
 40-42. By . . . speak. Cf. P. L. 1 : 662 ; F. Q. VII. vi. 21 : — 
 
 Wherefore it now behoves us to advise 
 What way is best to drive her to retire, • 
 Whether by open force or counsell wise ; 
 Areed, ye sonnes of God, as best ye can devise. 
 
 See also II. xi. 7 : — 
 
 T" assayle with open force or hidden guyle. 
 
 43. Moloch. Cf. P. L. 1 : 392-405. Macaulay, in his Essay on 
 Milton, compares James II. to Moloch. What renders this plausible ? 
 Sceptred king. As in II. 1 : 279. 
 
 45. Fiercer by despair. Cf. P. L. 1 : 191 ; 2 : 107, 126. 
 
162 NOTES. 
 
 46. Trust. Cf. P. L. 1 : 40; Job 40 : 23; Luke 24 : 21. 
 
 50. Recked. Define. 
 
 51. Sentence. Judgment, vote. Open war. "What is finally 
 decided upon? By whom devised? How many opinions have first 
 been expressed, by whom, and to what purport? 
 
 55. Millions. Cf. P. L. 1 : 664. 
 
 57. Heaven's fugitives. Fugitivus with the genitive is a Latin 
 construction. 
 
 58. Opprobrious. Cf. P. L. 1 : 403. 
 
 61. All at once. When the celebrated Edmund Burke was 
 about eighteen years of age, he was a member of a debating club in 
 Dublin. From the minutes of this club we learn (Todd's edition of 
 Milton, vol. I. p. 156) : ' Friday, June 5, 1747, Mr. Burke, being or- 
 dered to speak the speech of Moloch, receives applause for the deliv- 
 ery, it being in character. Then the speech was read and criticized 
 upon; its many beauties illustrated; the chief judged to be its con- 
 formity with the character of Moloch : — 
 
 No, let us rather choose, 
 Armed with Hell-flames and fury, all at once 
 O'er Heaven's high towers to force resistless way. 
 
 The words "all at once" (the metre not considered) seemed to the 
 whole assembly to hurt the sentence by stopping the rapidity and 
 checking the fierceness of it, making it too long and tedious. Then 
 was Belial's speech read, to the great delight of the hearers.' 
 
 62. Towers. Cf. vv. 129, 1049. 
 
 64 ff. Cf. Prom. Bound 920-923: — 
 
 Such a foe 
 He doth himself prepare against himself, 
 A wonder of unconquerable hate, 
 An organizer of sublimer fire 
 Than glares in lightnings, and of grander sound 
 Than aught the thunder rolls,— outthundering it. 
 
 65. Almighty engine. See P. L.6: 749-766, 844-852. 
 
 67. Black fire. Cf. P.L.I: 63, 182. 
 
 69. Mixed. Disturbed, convulsed. Imitated from the poetical 
 sense of Lat. miscere, as in JEn. 1 : 124 ; 2 : 487. Tartarean. In- 
 fernal. 
 
BOOK II. 163 
 
 70. His own invented torments. Torments invented by him- 
 self. 
 
 72. Upright. Meaning here ? 
 
 73. Bethink. Cf. Comus 820. Them. Define. ' Drench. 
 Draught. 
 
 74. Forgetful lake. Cf . P. L. 1 : 266, and note. 
 
 75. Proper. Define. Cf. P.L.3 : 634; 8 : 619. So Lat. proprius. 
 
 76. Native seat. Cf. P. L. 1 : 633-634. 
 
 77. Adverse. Contrary, unnatural. 
 
 82. Event. See P. L. 1 : 624. 
 
 83. Our Stronger. Cf. 'our betters.' 
 
 88. Unextinguishable fire. II. 16 : 132, der/fcVn; 0*d£. 
 
 89. Exercise. Plague, afflict. So the Lat. exercere, in sEn. 
 6 : 739. 
 
 90. Vassals. Cf. v. 252. 
 
 91. Torturing hour. Cf. Haml. I. v. 2; M. N. D. V. i. 37. 
 
 92. Calls. Why not call? Penance. Cf. P. L. 10 : 550. 
 
 94. What. Like Lat. quid. Define. Incense. Kindle, inflame. 
 A Latinism. Cf. Ps. 2 : 12; Isa. 5 : 25. 
 97. Essential. Existence, being. 
 
 104. Fatal. Ordained by fate. A Latinism. Cf. P. L. 1 : 133. 
 
 106. Denounced; Announced, menaced. A Latinism. Cf. 
 P. L. 11 : 815. 
 
 109. Belial. Cf . P. L. 1 : 490-505 ; 6 : 620-627. Macaulay compares 
 Charles II. to him ; see note on v. 43. Act. Action accompanying 
 the delivery of a speech. A Latinism, as in Quintilian IX. ii. 4. So 
 action in Haml. I. ii. 84. Humane. Polite; as in Latin. Note 
 the effect of contrast in this succession of speeches, as in II. 1 : 223- 
 249. 
 
 113. Manna. A sweet sirup or gum exuded from certain plants. 
 Not the manna of the Bible. Here almost = ' honey.' 
 
 113-114. Make the worse appear The better reason. Literally 
 from the Greek; see Plato, Apol. 18 B, and cf. Aristophanes, Clouds 
 114. 
 
 114. Dash. Frustrate ; so in Shak. 3 Hen. VI. II. i. 118, ' to dash 
 our late decree.' 
 
 123. Conjecture. Interpretation (of omens), augury, foreboding. 
 An obsolete sense. 
 
 124. Feat of arms. French, fait d' amies. 
 
164 NOTES. 
 
 127. Utter dissolution. Cf. vv. 93-98. 
 
 130. Access. See P. L. 1 : 761. 
 
 131. Bordering Deep. Cf. v. 890 ff. 
 
 132. Obscure. Define. 
 134-141. Cf. vv. 60-70. 
 
 142-143. Our final hope Is flat despair. Cf . 3 Hen. VI. II. iii. 9. 
 146 ff. Cf. Shak., Meas. III. i. 118-132. 
 
 147. Intellectual being. Cf. vv. 557-569. 
 
 148. Cf. P. L. 8: 188 ff. ; Sams. Agon. 302-306. 
 150. Landor would omit. 
 
 152. Let. Supposing. So in Shak., Rich. II. I. i. 59; Hen. VIII. 
 IV. ii. 146. 
 
 156. Belike. Define. Impotence. Ungovernableness, want of 
 self-restraint. Horace, Epod. 16:62, uses impotentia in the sense 
 of ' fiery violence.' 
 
 159. Endless. Adjective used as adverb. 
 
 163 ff. Note the succession of questions. What effect do they 
 produce? There is a suggestive parallel in the second speech of 
 Oceanus in the Prometheus Bound. 
 
 165. Amain* Define. 
 
 166. Afflicting. See P. L. 1 : 186. 
 
 169. Chained on the burning lake. Cf . P. L. 1 : 210. 
 
 170. Cf . Isa. 30 : 33. 
 
 171. Sevenfold. Cf. Gen. 4:15. 
 
 174. Red right hand. The rubente dextera of Hor. Od. I. ii. 2-3. 
 
 176. Cf. King Lear III. ii. 2. 
 
 180-182. Cf . uEn. 1 : 44-46 : ' As he [Ajax] gasped out flames from 
 his transfixed breast, she caught him in the whirlwind, and impaled 
 him on a jagged rock.' Also jEn. 6:75: 'The sport of rushing 
 winds.' 
 
 182. Racking. Cf . P. L. 1 : 126 ; 3: 203 ; 11 : 481. 
 
 184. Converse. Consort, keep company. 
 
 185. Lowell (Shakespeare Once More) observes: ' The Greek dram- 
 atists were somewhat fond of a trick of words in which there is a 
 reduplication of sense as well as of assonance, as in the Electra : — 
 
 "AAe/crpa y^paanova-af avvfievaid Te 
 
 So Shakespeare : — 
 
 Unhouseled, disappointed, unaneled; 
 
BOOK II. 165 
 
 And Milton after him, or, more likely, after the Greek : — 
 
 Unrespited, unpitied, unreprieved.' 
 
 186. Hopeless. Like despaired, P. L. 1 : 660. 
 188. Dissuades. Thus Livy speaks of ' dissuading peace ' 
 (30: 37). Force or guile. Cf . P. L. 1 : 121. 
 
 191. Cf. Ps. 2:4. 
 
 195. Trampled. Cf . Ps. 91 : 13 ; Isa. 63 : 3. 
 
 196. Better these than worse. Cf. v. 163 ff. What similar 
 thought is there in Hamlet's soliloquy? 
 
 199. To suffer, as to do. See P. L. 1 : 158. 
 
 209. Sustain and bear. Have there "been any previous instances 
 of coupled synonyms ? Why may they have "been employed ? 
 
 210. Supreme. Pronounce. Is it pronounced the same in v. 
 236? 
 
 213. Punished. Inflicted as punishment. 
 
 214. Cf. v. 170. 
 
 216. Vapor. Perhaps ' heat ' (a Latinism) ; or in the twofold sense. 
 219. Familiar. As familiar. 
 220-221. Notice the rime. 
 
 222. What chance, what change. Cf . P. R. 4 : 625. 
 
 223. Waiting. See P. L. 1 : 604. 
 
 224. For happy. In respect to happiness, to a happy lot. 
 
 225. Make an analysis of Moloch's and Belial's speeches, and show 
 what arguments of the former are replied to by the latter, and with 
 what force. 
 
 227. Ignoble ease. The ignobile otium of Virgil, Georg. 4 : 764. 
 227-228. 'These words [ignoble ease and peaceful sloth, Not 
 
 peace] are spoken by the poet in his own person, very improperly ; 
 they would have suited the character of any fallen angel, but the 
 reporter of the occurrence ought not to have delivered such a sen- 
 tence.' — Landor. 
 
 228. Mammon. Cf. P. L. 1 : 678 ff. 
 
 234. Argues. Shows, proves. So P. L. 4 : 830. 
 
 243. Halleluiahs. Literal meaning 1 ? Cf. Rev. 19:1-6; P. I. 
 6 : 744; 7 : 634; 10 : 642. Lordly. Adjective or adverb? 
 
 244. Breathes. Exhales, emits the smell of. 
 
 245. Odors. Cf. Od. Va*.23; P L. 4 : 162; P.R.I: 364; Sams. 
 Agon. 987. Do these passages suggest any relations to spice or gums ? 
 
166 NOTES. 
 
 250. Impossible. Limits what? 
 
 254. Live to ourselves. Cf. Hor., Epist. I. xviii. 107, ' ut mihi 
 vivam.' 
 
 256. Prom. Bound. 966-967 : — 
 
 I would not barter — learn thou soothly that — 
 
 My suffering for thy service. 
 
 261. Scan the line. 
 
 264. Ps. 18 : 11 ; 97 : 2. 
 
 271. Wants. Lacks. 
 
 273. What light does this shed upon the character of Mammon ? 
 In what work have we already seen him engaged? 
 
 275. Elements. Surroundings in which one feels at home; cf. 
 ' to be in one's element.' See King Lear II. iv. 58. For the general 
 thought, see vv. 217-220. 
 
 278. Sensible. Sense. Adjective for noun. 
 
 282. Dismissing. How does this, and vv. 187 ff., agree with 
 P. L.\ : 661-669? What is the relation of Mammon's speech to that 
 of Belial? 
 
 285 ff. This simile seems to owe something to reminiscences of 
 sEn. 3 : 554 ff., as the mariners sail past Charybdis: 'From afar we 
 hear the moaning of the main, . . . and the breakers roaring to the 
 shore. . . . Thrice did the cliffs roar amidst the rocky caverns (cava 
 saxa, hollow rocks), thrice did we see the foam dashing up, and the 
 starry skies dripping. Meanwhile, the wind and sun leave us weary 
 mariners at once, and ignorant of our course we drift to the coast of 
 the Cyclops. The harbor is sheltered from the approach of winds.' 
 The critics generally refer to sE?i. 10 : 96-99, which should be com- 
 pared. 
 
 289. Craggy bay. Perhaps suggested by jEn. 2 : 157 ff., espe- 
 cially 162-163 : ' The toil-worn crew of iEneas . . . turn towards the 
 coast of Africa. . . . An island forms a harbor. . . . On either side 
 are huge rocks, and twin cliffs which tower frowning towards the 
 sky.' This, it will be remembered, is after a great storm. 
 
 294. Sword of Michael. P. L.G : 250 ff. 
 
 297. Process. Pronounce. 
 
 299-307. How are ' Atlantean shoulders' fitter than any other 
 ' to bear the weight of mightiest monarchies ' ? Such is the tenor of 
 Landor's comment, who also objects that a pillar of state is not aptly 
 represented as rising, in this sense. 
 
BOOK II. 167 
 
 299. Than. What part of speech ? 
 
 300. None higher sat. Cf. P. L. 1 : 79. 
 
 302. Pillar of state. So Lat. columen reipublicse, as in Cicero, 
 Sest. 8 : 19. Deep on his front engraven. Cf., from the same 
 chapter of the oration : ' Such a contraction was there of his forehead 
 that the whole republic appeared to be resting on that brow.' The 
 whole chapter should be read, since Milton evidently had it in mind 
 when writing this passage. 
 
 306. Atlantean shoulders. In his oration for Flaccus (37 : 94) 
 Cicero appeals to the judges as bearing the whole state upon their 
 shoulders. 
 
 310. Cf. v. 11. 
 
 312. Style. Cf. P. L. 11 : 695. Define. 
 
 313. Popular vote. How many times had the popular vote been 
 indicated by applause ? Had the vote always been the same ? 
 
 317. Dungeon. Cf. P.L.I: 61. 
 
 322. Reserved. An imitation of the Lat. construction of re- 
 servare with the dative. Not so in P. L. 9 : 768. 
 
 327. Iron sceptre. See Ps. 2 : 9. 
 
 328. Golden. We find the golden sceptre in classical and in 
 Biblical literature, e.g., II. 1 : 15; Esther 1 : 11. 
 
 329. What. Landor says, 'To my ear What sit sounds less 
 pleasingly than Why sit.' 
 
 330. Determined. Define. 
 
 336. To. To the extent of. 
 
 337. Reluctance. Resistance. The primary sense of the Latin 
 verb. Cf. P. L. 10 : 1045. 
 
 345 ff. Cf. p. 192, v. 29 ff. ; p. 195, v. 129; p. 196, v. 156 ff. 
 
 346. Fame. Cf. P. L. 1 : 650-654. 
 
 349. Less. Cf. Ps. 8 : 5. 
 
 353. Imitated from II. 1 : 528-530 : ' Kronion spake, and nodded 
 his dark brow; . . . and he made great Olympus quake.' So JSn. 
 9 : 104. Cf. Heb. 6 : 13, 17. 
 
 Landor wishes ' that Cicero, who so delighted in harmonious sen- 
 tences, and was so studious of the closes,' could have heard this. He 
 criticizes the two preceding lines, however, for the identical cadence 
 of the last four words. 
 
 358. Force or subtlety. Cf. P.L.I: 121. 
 
 359. Arbitrator. In Judges 11 : 27, where the A. V. has ' judge,' 
 
168 NOTES. 
 
 the Vulgate has arbiter. Ovid (Tr. V. ii. 47) calls Augustus ' arbiter 
 imperii.' 
 
 367. Puny. Etymology ? Habitants. Elsewhere iu Milton. 
 Lat. habitantes. 
 
 369. Repenting. Gen. 6 : 6. 
 
 373 ff . Cf . p. 19G, v. 166 ff. 
 
 375. Frail original. Adam. 
 
 376. Advise. Possibly = consider. 
 
 379. Pleaded. What form is sometimes ignorantly substituted 
 for this ? 
 
 384. Mingle. As if a translation of the Lat. miscere. An ex- 
 ample is Juv. 2 : 25. 
 
 387. States. Persons representing a body politic. So Shak., 
 King John II. i. 395 : ' How like you this wild counsel, mighty 
 states ? ' 
 
 388. All. Modifies eyes, or their? Sparkled in all their 
 eyes. Cf. Shak., Much Ado III. i. 51. 
 
 389. He. Who ? 
 
 391. Synod. Cf. P.L.6: 156 ; 10 : 661 ; 11 : 67. Why preferable 
 to such a word as ' senate ' ? Gods. Cf . P. L. 3 : 341 ; in Ps. 8 : 5, 
 where the A. V. has ' angels,' the Hebrew has 'gods; ' see also Ps. 
 97 : 7. 
 
 393. Fate. Cf. v. 197. 
 
 394. Seat. Cf. P. L. 1 : 634. 
 396. Chance. Part of speech ? 
 
 398. Not vmvisited. Cf. V All. 57; P. L. 1 : 442; 8 : 503. 
 
 400. Cf. v. 141. 
 
 402. Balm. Not as in 1 : 774; here figurative, 'soothing influ- 
 ence.' 
 
 Landor's opinion is that here bursts forth 'such a torrent of elo- 
 quence as there is nowhere else in the regions of poetry, although 
 strict and thick, in v. 412, sound unpleasantly.' With 402 ff. cf. p. 
 196, v. 175 ff . 
 
 404. Wandering. Cf. v. 830. 
 
 406. Palpable obscure. Tenebrse palpabiles is found in ecclesi- 
 astical Latinity: Oros. 1 : 10; Jerome on Isa. 10. 32. 14. The expres- 
 sion doubtless comes from Exod. 10 : 21, ' darkness which may be felt ' 
 ('tenebrse, . . . ut palpari queant' ). Obscure. Obscurum is a noun 
 in Latin; so in Virgil, Georg. 1 : 478. Cf. P. L.\: 314. 
 
BOOK II. 169 
 
 407. Uncouth. OE uncuth. Meaning? 
 
 408. Indefatigable. So Tasso calls Gabriel's wings in Jer. Del. 
 1 : 14. 
 
 409. Vast Abrupt. Perhaps a reminiscence of Virg., JEn. 3. 
 421-122 : — Ter gurgite vast0 s 
 
 Sorbet in abruptum fluctus. 
 
 Abruptum is here a nonn, like obscurum above. 
 
 409. Arrive. Without the preposition, as in Shak., 3 Hen. VI. 
 V. iii. 8; J. Q. I. ii. 110. 
 
 410. Happy Isle. Cicero {Nat. Deor. 2: 66) likens the earth to 
 a great island — 'quasi magnam quandam insulam.' By a some- 
 what similar figure, Lucretius (5 : 276) uses the term mare aeris, ' sea 
 of air' (and so Shak., Timon IV. ii. 21). 
 
 412. Senteries. What is the usual spelling ? Stations. Posts, 
 guards; a Latinism. 
 
 413. Had need. Had is here an imperfect subjunctive. Had 
 need is a translation from the Latin, as if haberet necesse ; thus the 
 Vulgate rendering of 1 Sam. 10 : 25 has, ' Non habet rex sponsalia 
 necesse.' In Mark 2 : 17 the following noun is in the ablative, 
 ' Non necesse habent sani medico.' 
 
 418. Look suspense. So Cicero has (Clu. 19 : 54), 'suspensus 
 incertusque voltus.' 
 
 420. All sat mute. So II. 7 : 92. It is more instructive to read, 
 as a parallel, Livy 26 : 18. Who was finally selected in the latter 
 case, and what was the danger to be incurred ? 
 
 422. In other's countenance read. So Shak., Macb. I. v. 63-64 ; 
 Hen. VIII. I. i. 125; Troll. IV. v. 239; Rom. I. iii. 81; V. iii. 74; 
 Haml. II. i. 90. Cicero (Pis. 1 : 1) calls the countenance 'the silent 
 speech of the mind.' For the suggestion to Milton, we must again 
 refer to Livy, as above. 
 
 428. Above. Cf. P. L. 1 : 39. What « transcendent glory'? 
 
 429. Unmoved. Cf. P. L. 4 : 822; 8 : 532; P. R. 3 : 386; 4 : 109. 
 
 430. Progeny of Heaven. Cf. Virgil, Eel. 4 : 7. 
 
 431. Demur. Delay. 
 
 432. Long, etc. Mn. 6 : 126-129; Dante, Inf. 34 : 95. 
 
 435. Outrageous. Furious. 
 
 436. Ninefold. Cf. JEn. 6 : 439. Gates . . . adamant. Cf. 
 Mn. 6 : 552. 
 
170 NOTES. 
 
 438. Void profound. Which is the noun ? Cf . vv. 406, 409, 829, 
 and Lucr. 1 : 1108, inane profundum. 
 
 439. Unessential. Unsubstantial. 
 
 440. Wide-gaping. Can you connect this "with the etymology 
 of Chaos ? 
 
 441. Abortive. In active or causative sense. Cf. P. R. 4 : 411. 
 443. Remains him. Cf. P. L. 6 : 38. 
 
 445 ff. There is an interesting parallel in Sarpedon's speech to 
 Glaucus, II. 12 : 310 ff. See also P. R.2 : 463-465. It is in the spirit 
 of noblesse oblige. 
 
 452. Refusing. If I refuse. 
 
 457. Intend. Endeavor, essay. A Latinism. 
 
 458. What best may ease. Cf. vv. 280-281. 
 466. Effect of the pause ? 
 
 482. For neither, etc. Cf. P. R. 1 : 377-382. Would or would 
 not the character of Satan have been more interesting had it been 
 painted in darker colors ? 
 
 489. While the north wind sleeps. From II. 5 : 524, ' while 
 the might of the north wind sleepeth.' For the general simile see 
 Spenser, Sonn. 40. 
 
 490. Heaven's cheerful face. From Spenser, F. Q. II. xii. 34. 
 Element. Cf. Comus 299. Define. 
 
 491. What is the object of scowls? 
 495. Rings. Why singular in form? 
 
 496-505. Would Homer thus have moralized in his own person? 
 
 504. Enow. Properly the plural of enough. 
 
 508. Paramount. A rare use. Generally lord paramount. 
 
 512. Globe. Tacitus, speaking of the German chiefs, says 
 (Germ. 13) : ' It is an honor, as well as a source of strength, to be 
 thus always surrounded by a large body (globo) of picked youths; 
 it is an ornament in peace and a defence in war.' Cf. P. R. 4 : 581. 
 Fiery. Why especially applicable to seraphim ? 
 
 513. Horrent. Bristling. Spears are called 'horrent' in ^En. 
 10 : 178. 
 
 514. Bid. Present or past? See P. L. 6 : 202. 
 
 515. Trumpet's regal sound. Cf. 1 : 532, 754. 
 
 517. Alchemy. A metallic composition resembling gold ; hence, 
 the trumpet made of it. White alchemy, according to Bacon, was 
 an alloy of brass or copper with arsenic. 
 
BOOK II. 171 
 
 518. Scan the line. 
 
 526. Entertain. Beguile. 
 
 528. Sublime. Probably modifies part. For a similar construc- 
 tion, see Virgil, Georg. 1 : 404, 'Apparet liquido subllmls in aere 
 Nisus.' 
 
 530. Games. Cf. P. L. 4 : 551-552. Are there any notices of 
 games in the Iliad or the sEneid? "What Greek author was most 
 distinguished for celebrating victories at Olympian games and Pyth- 
 ian fields? 
 
 531-532. Shun the goal with rapid wheels. "Why not 'fervid 
 wheels,' as in Hor., Od. I. i. 4? 
 
 534. Troubled sky. So 'troubled heaven,' 1 Hen. IV. I. i. 10. 
 Armies. Cf. Shak., J. C II. ii. 19-20. 
 
 536. Cf. 1 : 763 ff. 
 
 538. Welkin. Sky. Derived (by irregular vowel-change) from 
 OE. wolcen, cloud. 
 
 539. Typhoean. Cf. note on 1 : 199. 
 
 540. Rend up. So in Claudian, Gigantomachia 66-71 : — 
 
 Hie rotas Haemonium praeduris viribus CEten, 
 Hie iuga conixus manibus Pangaea coruscat. 
 Hunc armat glacialis Atbos, boc Ossa movente 
 Tollitur, bic Rhodopen Hebri cum fonte revellit, 
 Et socias truncavit aquas summaque levatus 
 Rupe Giganteos umeros irrorat Enipeus. 
 
 A more general indication of the same sort is found as early as Plato, 
 Soph. 246 A. Ride the air. See v. 663. 
 
 542 ff. Milton has followed Ovid, Met. 9 : 136, 152 ff., 204-218. 
 CEchalia. Met. 9 : 136. 
 
 544. Thessalian pines. Met. 9 : 209, ' sternentemque trabes.' 
 
 545. (Eta. Met. 9 : 204. 
 
 546. Euboic sea. Met. 9 : 218. 
 
 547. Sing. Thus Achilles took ' his pleasure of a loud lyre, . . . 
 and sang of the glories of heroes' (II. 9 : 186-189). Here, it is to 
 be noticed, they celebrate their own exploits. 
 
 550-551. Complain . . . Chance. Bentleysays: 'This is taken 
 from the famous distich of Euripides, which Brutus used when 
 he slew himself. In some places for /? , force, it is quoted tC^i, 
 fortune. Milton has well comprehended both.' 
 
172 NOTES. 
 
 554. Suspended Hell. Such is the effect of the music of Orpheus 
 in Virgil, Georg. 4 : 481-484. Took. Charmed, captivated. Cf . Od. 
 Nat. 98; Comus 558. Also a Shakespearian sense, as in W. T. IV. 
 iv. 119. 
 
 556. Milton was fond of music. Here he seems, however, to 
 assign it a comparatively low rank; is there any evidence as to 
 whether this was his settled conviction? Cf. the passages in which 
 he uses such words as ' music ' and ' song.' 
 
 559-560. Note the chiastic repetition ; what is its purpose? 
 
 561. Wandering mazes. Cf. v. 148, and P. L. 5 : 622. 
 
 564. Passion. In what sense of the word is it antithetical with 
 apathy ? 
 
 565. So Carlyle (Characteristics) : ' In the perfect state, all 
 Thought were hut the picture and inspiring symhol of Action ; Phi- 
 losophy, except as Poetry and Religion, would have no heing. . . . 
 The disease of Metaphysics, accordingly, is a perennial one. In all 
 ages, those questions of Death and Immortality, Origin of Evil, Free- 
 dom and Necessity, must, under new forms, anew make their ap- 
 pearance; ever, from time to time, must the attempt to shape for 
 ourselves some Theorem of the Universe he repeated. And ever 
 unsuccessfully: for what Theorem of the Infinite can the Finite 
 render complete? ' Cf. P. L. 3 : 102-128. 
 
 569. Triple steel. Imitated from Horace, Od. I. iii. 9-10: ' Heart 
 of oak and triple hrass (ses triplex) lay around the hreast of him,' 
 etc. Cf. Comus 421. 
 
 570. Gross. Large ; cf . P. L.6 : 552. 
 
 575. Four infernal rivers. All these are named in Homer, 
 Od. 10 : 51 : ' Therehy into Acheron flows Pyriphlegethon, and Cocy- 
 tus, a branch of the water of the Styx.' Dante (Inf. 14 : 115-120) 
 arranges them differently : — 
 
 They [tears] in their course 
 Thus far precipitated down the rock 
 Form Acheron, and Styx, and Phlegethon ; 
 Then by this straitened channel passing hence 
 Beneath, e'en to the lowest depth of all, 
 Form there Cocytus, of whose lake (thyself 
 Shall see it) I here give thee no account. 
 
 The characterization of the rivers is derived from their etymology. 
 582. Far off. So in Mn. 6 : 705, and in Dante, Inf. 14 : 136. 
 
BOOK II. 173 
 
 583. Lethe. Plato (Rep. 10 : 621) is perhaps the first to mention 
 Lethe. Cf. vv. 607-608. 
 
 584. Labyrinth. Cf. P. L.9: 183. 
 
 587. Continent. Connected or continuous tract of land; an 
 obsolete sense. 
 
 589. Dire hail. From Horace, Ocl. I. ii. 1-2. 
 
 590. Gathers heap. Cf. P. L. 12 : 631. 
 
 592. Serboiiian bog - . First mentioned by Herodotus (2:6; 3:5). 
 
 593. Damiata. In Egypt; now Damietta. Mount Casius. 
 Between Lower Egypt and Arabia. 
 
 591. Sunk. Diodorus Siculus (1 : 35) mentions this peculiarity. 
 
 595. Landor says: 'The latter part of this verse is redundant, 
 and ruinous to the former.' Burns. Cold is said to burn by Virgil 
 (Georg. 1 : 93), Ovid (Met. 14 : 763), Tacitus (Ann. 13 : 35), and 
 others; the Latin verbs urere, amburere, adurere, and torrere, are all 
 used in this way, and so Gr. naleiv and a-rroKateiv. With the line cf. p. 
 191, v. 13, and p. 193, v. 79. 
 
 Frore. Frozen, apparently used in the sense of 'freezing.' Frore 
 is the old past participle of the verb freeze, by contraction from 
 froren. Similarly, forlorn is the past part, of forleese (= modern 
 -lose), which occurs yet in Chaucer. The form fro re, without final 
 n, is as old as the beginning of the fourteenth century. For frore in 
 the sense of ' freezing,' cf. Spenser's expression, ' frozen cold,' F. Q. 
 III. viii. 34; in III. viii. 30 and 35, Spenser uses the adjective frory. 
 
 596. Harpy-footed. The Sirens are called ' harpy-legged ' by 
 the obscure Greek poet Lycophron. The original Greek conception 
 of the Harpies was that of whirlwinds, or spirits of the storm ; thus, 
 Od. 1: 241, 'But now the spirits of the storm have swept him 
 away inglorious.' Milton may possibly have in mind the Virgilian 
 description also, sEn. 3 : 212 ff. Haled. See Lk. 12 : 58; Acts 8 : 3. 
 Frequently used by Shakespeare. 
 
 597. Revolutions. Vicissitudes. 
 
 600. ' It appears to me that his imitation of Shakespeare [in this 
 line] is feeble.' — Landor. Cf. Meas. for Meas. III. i. 123; and see 
 Dante, Inf. 3 : 86; Purg. 3 : 31. Starve. Pinch, nip. So in Shak., 
 T. G. IV. iv. 159, ' The air hath starved the roses in her cheeks; ' cf. 
 2 Hen. VI. III. i. 343, ' You but warm the starved snake.' From OE. 
 steorfan, die, akin to Ger. sterben. 
 
 603. Periods. In its etymological sense; how related to the 
 
174 NOTES. 
 
 primitive meaning of revolutions, v. 597? Todd says: 'This cir- 
 cumstance of the damned's suffering the extremes of heat and cold 
 by turns seems to be founded on Job 24 : 19, not as it is in the English 
 translation, but in the vulgar Latin version, which Milton often used : 
 "Ad nimium calorem transeat ab aquis nivium. Let him pass to 
 excessive heat from waters o/snoio." 
 
 604. Lethean sound. Perhaps suggested by the Lethtea stayna 
 of Propertius IV (V). vii. 91. 
 
 604-610. 'Milton, like Dante, has mixed the Greek mythology 
 with the Oriental. To hinder the damned from tasting a single 
 drop of the Lethe they are ferried over. 
 
 Medusa with Gorgonian terror guards 
 The ford. 
 
 It is strange that until now they never had explored the banks of the 
 other four infernal rivers.' — Landor. 
 
 609. Brink. Surface; like brim in Scott, Marmion 6 : 15: — 
 
 Not lighter does the swallow skim 
 Along the smooth lake's level brim. 
 
 610. Fate withstands. Probably a reminiscence of sEn. 4 : 440, 
 Fata obstant. 
 
 611. Medusa. Cf. Ovid, Met. 4 : 779-781: 'He [Perseus] arrived 
 at the abodes of the Gorgons, and saw everywhere, along the fields 
 and the roads, statues of men and wild beasts turned into stone from 
 their natural form, at the sight of Medusa.' And so Pindar, Nem. 
 10 : 6-7 : ' Long is the tale of Perseus, that telleth of the Gorgon 
 Medusa.' 
 
 613. Can you discover any flaw in the following criticism of Lan- 
 dor's? — 'No living wight had ever attempted to taste it, nor was it 
 this water that fled the lips of Tantalus at any time ; least of all can 
 we imagine that it had already fled it.' 
 
 614. Tantalus. Ocl. 11 : 582-587: 'Moreover I beheld Tantalos 
 in grievous torment, standing in a mere, and the water came nigh 
 unto his chin. And he stood straining as one athirst, but he might 
 not attain to the water to drink of it. For often as that old man 
 stooped down in his eagerness to drink, so often the water was swal- 
 lowed up and it vanished away, and the black earth still showed at 
 his feet, for some god parched it evermore.' 
 
BOOK II. 175 
 
 614-622. Landor says: 'It is impossible to refuse the ear its sat- 
 isfaction at [these lines];' hut adds: 'Now who would not rather 
 have forfeited an estate than that Milton should have ended so 
 
 deplorably, 
 
 Wliicli God by curse 
 Created evil, /or evil only good, 
 Where all life dies, death lives. 
 
 How Ovidian! This book would be greatly improved, not merely by 
 the rejection of a couple such as these, but by the whole from verse 
 647 to verse 1007. The number would still be 705; fewer by only 
 sixty-four than the first would be after its reduction.' 
 
 615. Confused. Pronounce. 
 
 616. Pale. Modifies what noun? 
 
 618. Cf. p. 193, v. 69. No rest. Cf. Matt. 12 : 43. 
 
 621. Lowell comments: 'Milton, like other great poets, wrote 
 some bad verses, and it is wiser to confess that they are so than to 
 conjure up some unimaginable reason why the reader should accept 
 them as the better for their badness. Such a bad verse is 
 
 Bocks, caves, lakes, fens, bogs, dens and shapes .of death, 
 
 which might be cited to illustrate Pope's 
 
 And ten low words oft creep in one dull line.' 
 
 But Burke says (Sublime and Beautiful, Part 5, Sec. 7) : ' Here is 
 displayed the force of union, . . . which yet would lose the greatest 
 part of the effect if they were not the 
 
 Rocks, caves, lakes, fens, bogs, dens, and shades — of Death. 
 
 This . . . raises a very great degree of the sublime ; and this sublime 
 is raised yet higher by what follows, a "universe of death."' In 
 Sidney's Arcadia there is a somewhat similar line: — 
 
 Rocks, woods, hills, caves, dales, meads, brooks, answer me. 
 
 626-627. See note on 1 : 540. 
 
 628. Gorgons, and Hydras. Define. Cf. Virgil, jEn. 6 : 287- 
 
 288: — 
 
 Chimsera, 
 Gorgones Harpyireque. 
 
176 NOTES. 
 
 And again 6 : 576-577 : — 
 
 Quinquaginta atris inmanis liiatibus Hydra 
 Ssevior iutus habet sedem. 
 
 Chimaeras dire. II. 6 : 180-182 : ' Of divine birth was she and 
 not of men, in front a lion, and behind a serpent, and in the midst 
 a goat; and she breathed dread fierceness of blazing fire.' 
 
 629 ff . Cf. p. 197, v. 201 ff. 
 
 631. Puts on swift wings. Cf. P.L.5 : 276-277. 
 
 632. Explores . . . flight. Explore hexe means 'try,' a Latin 
 meaning. Cicero has the expression, ' explore flight ' (explorare fa- 
 gam, Terr. II. v. 17. 44), bnt not in the same sense. 
 
 634. Virgil has (sEn. 5 : 217), 'Skims on (radit, grazes) her liquid 
 way, nor so much as moves her swift wings.' Level. Corresponds 
 to Gr. tvKijXos, even, steady, applied to wings by Apollonius Rhodius 
 2 : 935; similarly, paribus alls, JEn. 4 : 252; 5 : 657 ; 9 : 14. 
 
 635. Fiery concave. Cf. 1 : 298. 
 
 636-643. In his Preface of 1815-1845, Wordsworth writes: 'Im- 
 agination, in the sense of the word as giving title to a class of the 
 following poems, has no reference to images that are merely a faith- 
 ful copy, existing in the mind, of absent external objects; but is a 
 word of higher import, denoting operations of the mind upon those 
 objects and processes of creation or of composition, governed by 
 certain fixed laws. I proceed to illustrate my meaning by instances. 
 A parrot hangs from the wires of his cage by his beak or by his claws ; 
 or a monkey from the bough of a tree by his paws or his tail. Each 
 creature does so literally and actually. In the first Eclogue of Virgil, 
 the shepherd, thinking of the time when he is to take leave of his 
 farm, thus addresses his goats : — 
 
 Non ego vos posthac viridi projectus in antro 
 Dumosa _pe«rfere procul de rupe videbo. 
 
 half way down 
 
 Hangs one who gathers samphire, 
 
 is the well-known expression of Shakespeare, delineating an ordinary 
 image upon the cliffs of Dover. In these two instances is a slight 
 exertion of the faculty which I denominate imagination, in the use 
 of one word : neither the goats nor the samphire-gatherer do literally 
 hang, as does the parrot or the monkey ; but, presenting to the senses 
 
BOOK II. 177 
 
 something of such an appearance, the mind in its activity, for its 
 own gratification, contemplates them as hanging.' 
 
 He then quotes our lines, and adds : ' Here is the full strength of 
 the imagination involved in the word hangs, and exerted upon the 
 whole image : First, the fleet, an aggregate of many ships, is repre- 
 sented as one mighty person, whose track, we know and feel, is upon 
 the waters; hut, taking advantage of its appearance to the senses, 
 the Poet dares to represent it as hanging in the clouds, hoth for the 
 gratification of the mind in contemplating the image itself, and in 
 reference to the motion and appearance of the sublime objects to 
 which it is compared. . . . 
 
 ' When the compact fleet, as one person, has been introduced " Sail- 
 ing from Bengala," " they," i.e., the " merchants," representing the 
 fleet, resolved into a multitude of ships, " ply " their voyage towards 
 the extremities of the earth : " So " (referring to the word " As " in the 
 commencement) " seemed the flying Fiend ; " the image of his person 
 acting to recombine the multitude of ships into one body, — the 
 point from which the comparison set out. "So seemed," and to 
 whom seemed? To the heavenly Muse who dictates the poem, to 
 the eye of the Poet's mind, and to that of the Reader, present at one 
 moment in the wide Ethiopian, and the next in the solitudes, then 
 first broken in upon, of the infernal regions!' 
 
 Leigh Hunt, 'What is Poetry,' has: 'Shakespeare and Milton 
 abound in the very grandest [similes] ; such as Antony's likening his 
 changing fortunes to the cloud-rack; Lear's appeal to the old age 
 of the heavens; Satan's appearance in the horizon, like a fleet 
 "hanging in the clouds;" and the comparisons of him with the 
 comet and the eclipse. Nor unworthy of this glorious company, for 
 its extraordinary combination of delicacy and vastness, is that en- 
 chanting one of Shelley's in the Adonais: — 
 
 Life, like a dome of many-colored glass, 
 Stains the white radiance of eternity. 
 
 Cf. Garnett (Milton, pp. 160-161) : ' When such a being voyages 
 through space it is no hyperbole to compare him to a whole fleet, 
 judiciously shown at such distance as to suppress every minute detail 
 that could diminish the grandeur of the image. . . . These similes, 
 and an infinity of others, are grander than anything in Homer, who 
 would, however, have equaled them with an equal subject. Dante's 
 
178 NOTES. 
 
 treatment is altogether different; the microscopic intensity of per- 
 ception in which he. so far surpasses Homer and Milton affords, in 
 our opinion, no adequate compensation for his inferiority in magnifi- 
 cence.' 
 
 638. Ternate and Tidore. Two of the Molucca islands in the 
 East Indies. Pronounce. 
 
 640. Trading. What figure of speech ? 
 
 641. Ethiopian. Indian Ocean. Cape. Of Good Hope. 
 
 642. Cf. Introduction, p. 32. Ply. Define. Stemming. Define. 
 Nightly. By night. The pole. Which? 
 
 645. Thrice threefold. Cf. v. 436. Threefold is the wall in 
 Virgil's hell, ;En. 6 : 549, but ninefold the flowing of Styx, 6 : 439. 
 Folds. Cf. P. L. 1 : 724. Brass. The wall in Hesiod, Theog. 726, 
 is of brass. 
 
 646. Iron. So appeared the walls in Dante, Inf. 8 : 78, and so 
 was the gate of Tartarus in II. 8 : 15. Adamantine. Cf. v. 436. So 
 sEn. 6 : 552, 'pillars of solid adamant.' 
 
 647. Impaled with circling fire. So in JEn. 6 : 550, ' encircled 
 by a rushing river with waves of torrent fire ; ' this is Phlegethon, 
 however. Impaled. Cf. P. L. 6 : 553 ; also the only Shakespearian 
 sense. 
 
 648. Before the gates. Cf. Mn. 6 : 574-575: * See you the form 
 of the watcher that sits in the porch? the shape that guards the 
 threshold ? ' 
 
 Garnett says (Milton, p. 155) : — 
 
 ' If anything more infatuated can be imagined, it is the simplicity 
 of the All-Wise Himself in entrusting the wardership of the gate of 
 Hell, and consequently the charge of keeping Satan in, to the beings 
 in the universe most interested in letting him out. The sole but 
 sufficient excuse is that these faults are inherent in the subject. If 
 Milton had not thought that he could justify the ways of Jehovah 
 to man he would not have written at all ; common sense on the part 
 of the angels would have paralyzed the action of the poem; we 
 should, if conscious of our loss, have lamented the irrefragable 
 criticism that should have stifled the magnificent allegory of Sin 
 and Death.' 
 
 648 ff. 'In the description of Sin and Death, and Satan's inter- 
 view with them, there is a wonderful vigor of imagination and of 
 thought, with such sonorous verse as Milton alone was capable of 
 
BOOK II. 179 
 
 composing. But there is also much of what is odious and intolerable. 
 The terrific is then sublime, and then only, when it fixes you in the 
 midst of all your energies, and not when it weakens, nauseates, and 
 repels you.' — Landor. 
 
 651. Ended. Thus Hesiod's Echidna (Theog. 298-299) was half 
 a beautiful woman, half a prodigious and dreadful serpent. 
 
 654 ff . Milton seems to have had Ovid in mind {Met. 14 : 60-61, 
 64-65) : ' She beholds her loins grow hideous with barking monsters ; 
 ... as she examines the substance of her thighs, her legs, and her 
 feet, she meets with Cerberean jaws in place of those parts.' Cf. 
 also Spenser, F.Q. I. i. 15. Cry. Pack. 
 
 655. Cerberean. Who was Cerberus? 
 
 660. Vexed. What is its subject ? Sea. Strait of Messina. 
 According to Ovid (Met. 13 : 730) and Virgil (JEn. 3 : 420) Scylla was 
 on the Italian side. 
 
 661. Trinacrian. Sicilian; so named from its three promonto- 
 ries. Cf. Ovid, Met. 13 : 724, 'With three points this projects into 
 the sea.' Hoarse shore is from Statius, Theb. 5 : 291; Trinacrian 
 shore from sEn. 1 : 196. 
 
 665. Lapland. Like Thessaly, famous for sorcery. Laboring. 
 Suffering (eclipse). ' Laboring moon' is found in Juvenal, 6 : 443. 
 
 666. Eclipses. An obsolete sense. 
 
 666-673. The other . . . had on. Burke says (Sublime and 
 Beautiful, Part 2, Sec. 3) : ' In this description all is dark, uncer- 
 tain, confused, terrible, and sublime to the last degree.' 
 
 670. As Night. Od. 11 : 606, 'He [Heracles], like black Night.' 
 
 676. So (II. 7 : 213, 215), as Ajax 'went with long strides, . . . 
 sore trembling came upon the Trojans.' 
 
 677. Admired. Wondered, marvelled. An archaic sense. 
 
 681. An epic formula ; bo II. 21 :150, ' Who and whence art thou? ' 
 etc. Cf. Od. 1 : 170; &n. 8 : 114. 
 678-679. 
 
 ' God and his Son except, 
 Created thing naught valued he. 
 
 This is not the only time when he has used such language, evi- 
 dently with no other view than to defend it by his scholarship. But 
 no authority can vindicate what is false, and no ingenuity can ex- 
 plain what is absurd.' — Landor. But cf. Lowell, Introduction, 
 p. 33. 
 
180 NOTES. 
 
 685. So Spenser, F. Q. III. iv. 15. 
 
 687. Metre ? 
 
 688. Goblin. Scarcely conveys a sufficiently elevated notion 
 here ; cf . Comus 436, L'Al. 105. 
 
 689. In the vein of Spenser's apostrophe, F. Q. VI. vi. 25. 
 692. Third part. Suggested by Rev. 12 : 4. 
 
 696. Spirits of Heaven. Cf . v. 687. 
 
 697. Hell-doomed. Cf. v. 687. 
 
 700. To thy speed add wings. Suggested hy JEn. 8:223: 
 ' pedihus timor addidit alas,' ' fear added wings to his feet.' 
 
 701. "Whip of scorpions. Cf. 1 Kings 12 : 11. 
 
 702. This dart. Cf. v. 672. 
 
 704. Grisly. Define. Cf. 1 : 670. 
 
 706. Deform. Cf. P. L. 11 : 494. Browning uses the word in 
 Fifine at the Fair. 
 
 707. Incensed. Two meanings here ? 
 
 708. Comet. Cf. Mn. 10:270-273: 'The crest of the prince's 
 helmet blazes, and a flame seems to pour forth from the plume at its 
 top, and the golden boss vomits forth mighty fires, like as when some- 
 times on a clear night blood-red comets blush with baleful light.' 
 
 709. Ophiuchns. A constellation forty degrees long. 
 
 710. Hair. What is the etymology of 'comet'? Cf. Shak., 
 1 Hen. VI. I. i. 1-3: — 
 
 Comets, importing change of time and states, 
 Brandish your crystal tresses in the sky. 
 
 712. Fatal. Cf. v. 786. What difference between the meaning 
 here and in v. 104? 
 
 713. Intend. For this verb with an accusative, see v. 457 ; P. L. 
 5 : 867 ; 10 : 58. 
 
 714. Clouds. Thus Amphiarus is called by Pindar (Nem. 10 : 12), 
 ' the storm-cloud of war.' In Boiardo's Orlando Innamorato (1 : 16; 
 cf. 2 : 4) Milton is anticipated in the elaboration of this simile. 
 
 715. Heaven's artillery. A Shakespearian phrase, T. Shr. I. ii. 
 205. Fraught. From what infinitive ? 
 
 Caspian. Cf. Horace, Od. II. ix. 1-3; 'Not for ever do showers 
 pour from the clouds upon the squalid plains, or fitful blasts trouble 
 the Caspian sea unceasingly.' 
 
 722. So great a foe. See 1 Cor. 15 : 26 ; Heb. 2 : 14. 
 
BOOK II. 181 
 
 722-724. And now . . . had not. Cf. II. 7 : 273-274: ' And now 
 had they been smiting hand to hand with swords, hut that,' etc. 
 
 724. Snaky. Cf. v. 651. 
 
 729. Bend. Direct, aim. How does the word come to have this 
 meaning? Cf. Ps. 11 : 2; P. L.2: 923; P. R. 4 : 424. 
 
 731. Laughs. Cf. Ps. 2 : 4. 
 
 735. Pest. Used like the Lat. pestis. 
 
 736. These. What? 
 
 741. Double-formed. So Scylla (pluralized) is called (biformis) 
 in JEn. 6 : 286. 
 
 743. Phantasm. Cf. v. 667. 
 
 745. Thau. What part of speech here? 
 
 748. Foul . . . fair. Thus antithetically employed by Shak.> 
 Macb. I. i. 11. 
 
 752 ff. Cf. Homer's Hymn to Pallas (Chapman's trans.) : — 
 
 His [Zeus's] unbounded brows 
 Could not contain lier ; such impetuous tbroes 
 Her birth gave way to, that abroad she flew, 
 And stood, in gold armed, in her Father's view, 
 Shaking her sharp lance. All Olympus shook 
 So terribly beneath her, that it took 
 Up in amazes all the Deities there. 
 
 759. Scan the line. 
 
 761. Familiar grown. Cf. Pope, Essay on Man 2 ■ 217-220. 
 
 Vice is a monster of so frightful mien 
 As, to be hated, needs but to be seen ; 
 Yet, seen too oft, familiar with her face, 
 We first endure, then pity, then embrace. 
 
 768. Fields. Battles. How does the word come to this mean- 
 ing ? How is Ger. Kampf related to Lat. campus? 
 
 771. Empyrean. Define. 
 
 772. Pitch. Cf. P. L. 8 : 198; 11 : 693; Sams. Agon. 169. 
 
 786. Brandishing his fatal dart. From JEn. 12 : 919, ' Telum 
 fatale coruscat.' 
 
 787. Death. Cf . James 1 : 15 : ' Sin, when it is finished, bringeth 
 forth death.' 
 
 789. So Virgil, jEn. 2 : 53: 'The caverns sounded hollow and 
 
182 NOTES. 
 
 uttered a groan.' Death. The repetition as in Virgil, Georg. 4 : 
 525-527 : ' The voice and chilled tongue of themselves called " Eu- 
 rydice, ah, hapless Eurydice! " as the spirit ebbed away; all along 
 the stream the banks replied "Eurydice!"' 
 
 798. List. Cf. v. 656. 
 
 800-803. Lowell criticizes the sibilancy of these lines. In what 
 words does it occur ? 
 
 808. Bane. Define. 
 
 809. Fate. Newton observes : ' Milton with great propriety 
 makes the fallen Angels, and Sin here, attribute events to Fate, 
 without any mention of the Supreme Being.' Where has this been 
 done before in the poem ? 
 
 810 ff. Cf. Od. 12 : 117-120: 'Wilt thou not yield thee even to 
 the deathless gods ? As for her [Scylla], she is no mortal, but an 
 immortal plague, dread, grievous, and fierce, and not to be fought 
 with; and against her there is no defence.' 
 
 813. Heavenly. What part of speech ? Cf. P.L.8: 217. From 
 OE. heofenlice, while in the more usual sense it is from heofenlic. 
 
 814. Save. What part of speech ? Does the use of nisi, in such 
 a sentence as the following, throw any light upon it ? ' Dicere nemo 
 potest, nisi qui prudenter intellegit.' 
 
 815. Lore. Define. 
 
 816. Cf. v. 745. Smooth. What part of speech ? 
 823. House of pain. So Spenser, F. Q. I. v. 34. 
 
 826. Go. Note the idiom, ' to go an errand.' 
 
 827. Uncouth. Cf. note on v. 407. 
 
 829. Void immense. Cf. v. 438. 
 
 830. Wandering. Cf. v. 404. 
 
 832. Place of bliss. Cf. v. 347. 
 
 833. Purlieus. Define. 
 
 834. Race. Cf. 1 : 653. 
 
 842. Buxom air. A Spenserian phrase, F. Q. I. xi. 37, like 
 Horace's ceclentem aera, Sat. II. ii. 13. Hence, buxom = unresisting, 
 from the sense ' flexible,' ' pliant.' The word is first found in Middle 
 English, ca. 1175, in the sentence, ' Beo biihsum toward Gode,' 
 where biihsum means 'pliant,' ' obedient.' The word has the same 
 root as OE. biigan, to bow, bend. 
 
 846. Ghastly smile. So Ajax, It. 7 : 212, rose up, ' with a smile 
 on his grim face ; ' Inf. 5:4: — 
 
BOOK II. 183 
 
 There Minos stands 
 Grinning with ghastly feature. 
 
 Drummoiid of Hawthornden (lived when?), in a madrigal, calls 
 Death, 'grim grinning king.' Spenser has 'grinning griesly' (F. Q. 
 V. xii. 16), like Statius' (Theb. 8 : 582) 'formidable ridens.' In the 
 Odyssey (20 : 347) the wooers ' were laughing with alien lips ' (cf . 
 Hor., Sat. II. iii. 72; Oct. III. xi. 21). See also Shak., Rich. II. III. 
 ii. 162-163. 
 
 817. His famine. Cf. Hab. 2:5; Prov. 30 : 15, 16; and P. L 
 10 : 601, 991. 
 
 849. Bespake. Cf. P. L. 4 : 1005. 
 
 850. Infernal pit. Cf. 1 : 657. 
 
 856 ff. Cf. Garnett's remarks in note on v. 648. 
 
 858. Gloom. Tartarus is 'black' (.En. 6 : 134), 'darkly deep' 
 (Prom. Bound 219), ' murky ' (ib. 1050), etc. Tartarus. II. 8 : 13-14, 
 'misty Tartarus, where is the deepest gulf beneath the earth;' 
 Plato, Gorgias 523, ' he who has lived unjustly and impiously shall 
 go to the house of vengeance and punishment, which is called 
 Tartarus.' 
 
 860. Heavenly-born. Cf. v. 749 ff. 
 
 868. The gods who live at ease. So exactly in II. 6 : 138 ; Od. 
 4 : 805, etc. 
 
 869. Right. Cf. P. L. 3 : 62-64. 
 
 872. All our woe. Cf . 1 : 3. 
 
 873. Would the rhythm be improved by making rolling the 
 second word in the line ? 
 
 876-882. See note on 1 : 540. 
 877. Wards. Define. 
 879 ff. Cf. p. 198, v. 209. 
 
 879-882. A remarkable instance of imitative sound (onomato- 
 poeia), modelled after /En. 6 : 573-574 (cf. 1 : 449) : — 
 
 Turn demum horrisono stridentes cardine sacra? 
 Panduntur porta?. 
 
 Contrast with this P. L. 7 : 205-207. 
 
 883. Erebus. Suggested by Virgil, Georg. 4 : 471, ' Stirred from 
 the lowest abodes of Erebus.' 
 
 885. Wings. Cf. P. R. 3 : 309; 4 : 06. 
 
18-4 NOTES. 
 
 885-886. Bannered . . . ensigns. Can any explanation be 
 given of this apparent redundancy? 
 889. Redounding. Define. 
 891. Hoary Deep. See Job 41 : 32. 
 
 894. Night. According to Hesiod (Theog. 123), 'black Night 
 was bom of Chaos and Erebus.' According to the Orphic Hymn to 
 Night, she was mother of gods and men, and the original of all things 
 
 (ye'eecri? ndvTioi'}, 
 
 895. Chaos. Cf. F. Q. III. vi. 36. 
 
 896. Anarchy. Ovid (Met. 1 : 7-9) : ' Chaos, a rude and undi- 
 gested mass, . . . the discordant atoms of things not harmonizing.' 
 So Lucretius (5 : 439-445) : ' A strange, stormy crisis and medley, 
 gathered together out of first-beginnings of every kind, whose state 
 of discord, joining battle, disordered their interspaces, . . . because 
 by reason of their unlike forms and varied shapes, they could not all 
 remain thus joined together, nor fall into mutually harmonious mo- 
 tions.' Cf. P. L. 10 : 293. 
 
 898. Hot, Cold, 3Ioist, and Dry. Ovid (Met. 1 : 18-19) : ' And 
 one was ever obstructing the other; because in the same body the 
 cold was striving with the hot, the moist with the dry.' 
 
 900. Embryon. Immature, undeveloped. Cf. P. L.l : 277. 
 
 903. Sands. Cf . note on 1 : 302. 
 
 904. Barca and Cyrene were in Northern Africa. 
 
 905. Warring winds. Horace's 'ventos deprceliantes ' (Od. I. 
 ix. 10-11). So Ovid (Met. 11 : 491) says, 'The fierce winds wage war 
 on every side; ' and Virgil (^En. 2 : 416), 'Opposing winds meet in 
 conflict.' 
 
 907. He. Who ? 
 
 908. Like some modern umpires ? 
 
 910. Chance. Cf. v. 233. 
 
 911. The thought is an old one. It is ascribed to Xenophanes 
 and Euripides, among the Greeks. Besides Ennius, Lucretius has it 
 (5:260):- 
 
 / Omniparens, eadera rerum commune sepulchruru. 
 
 So Shakespeare, Rom. II. iii. 9-10 (cf. Per. II. iii. 45): — 
 
 The earth, that's nature's mother, is her tomb ; 
 What is her burying grave, that is her womb. 
 
book II. 185 
 
 917. Into this wild Abyss. Observe that we have already had 
 these words, v. 910. The poet has lingered and ' looked a while,' like 
 his Satan. 
 
 919. Frith. Define. 
 
 920. Pealed. Is this verb usually transitive ? 
 
 922. Great things with small. From Virgil (Eel. 1 : 24) : ' Par- 
 vis componere magna.' Bellona. Goddess of war. 
 
 927. Sail-broad. Lucretius, speaking of birds, says (6 : 743), 
 'They forget to row with their wings, they drop their sails. 9 Cf. 
 F. Q. I. xi. 10. The attribution of sail-broad wings to Satan is from 
 the Italian of Marino. Vans. Cf. P. R. 4 : 583. The word is from 
 the Italian, where it is in poetical use. 
 
 930. Cloudy chair. Cf. Comus 134. Chair. Chariot. 
 
 932. Note the alliteration. 
 
 934. Fathom. What other words of this kind may lack the 
 plural sign ? 
 
 937. Nitre. Cf. P. L. 4 : 815. 
 
 939. Syrtis. The ancients so called two different gulfs off the 
 north coast of Africa. Milton's characterization seems to be from 
 Lucan, Phars. 9 : 304. Cf. Virgil's description (.En. 1 : 110-112) : 
 ' Three ships the East wind forces into the shallows and quicksands 
 [Syrtis], . . . and shuts them in with a bank of sand.' 
 
 941. Half. Cf. F. Q. I. xi. 8. 
 
 942. Both oar and sail. Might and main. A Latin proverbial 
 expression; so in Cic, Tusc. III. xi. 25. 
 
 943. Griffin. Conceived of as a lion, with the head and wings of 
 an eagle. 
 
 945. Arimaspian. Cf. Herodotus 3 : 116: " Toward the north of 
 Europe there is evidently a very great quantity of gold, but how pro- 
 cured I am unable to say with certainty, though it is said that the 
 Arimaspians, a one-eyed people, steal it from the griffins." 
 
 948-950. Note the confused and disorderly manner in which 
 these disconnected particulars are set forth. For the name of this 
 rhetorical figure see De Mille's Elements of Rhetoric, § 151, and 
 cf. § 221. 
 
 953. Hollow dark. Cf. Mn. 2 : 760, cava umbra. 
 
 954. Plies. Cf. v. 642. 
 
 960. Pavilion. Cf. 2 Sam. 22 : 12; Ps. 18 : 11. 
 
 962. Sable-vested Night. From Euripides, Ion 1150, iitMnnntXos 
 
186 NOTES. 
 
 N(>f. Eldest. Because Chaos, of which she was horn, could hardly 
 be described as a (definite) thing ? 
 
 964. Orcus. From Virgil, Georg. 1 : 277, ' pallidus Orcus.' 
 Ades. Hades. Hesiod, Theog. 455: 'Mighty Hades, who inhabits 
 the abode beneath the earth.' Name. ' By a usage chiefly Hebra- 
 istic, the name is used for everything which the name covers.' 
 
 965. Demogorgon. Cf. F. Q. IV. ii. 47. 6-9: — 
 
 Downe in tlie bottome of the deepe Abysse, 
 "Where Demogorgon in dull darknesse pent 
 Farre from the view of Gods and heavens bliss, 
 The hideous Chaos keepes, their dreadful dwelling is. 
 
 Shelley thus describes Demogorgon (Prom. Unbound 2:4): — 
 
 I see a mighty darkness 
 Filling the seat of power, and rays of gloom 
 Dart round, as light from the meridian sun, 
 Ungazed upon and shapeless ; neither limb 
 Nor form, nor outline ; yet we feel it is 
 A living spirit. 
 
 Ben Jonson speaks of ' Boccace his Demogorgon' (Alchemist 2 : 1), 
 but the name is much earlier. 
 
 965 ff. Thus in .En. 6 : 274-280 we have Grief, Cares, Diseases, 
 Age, Fear, Hunger, Want, Death, Toil, Sleep, Evil Delights, War, 
 and Discord. Lowell says of Wordsworth (Essay on Dry den) : ' He 
 indulged in that alphabetical personification which enlivens all such 
 words as Hunger, Solitude, Freedom, by the easy magic of an initial 
 capital.' But it is not easy to distinguish between such personifica- 
 tions and those of Orcus and Hades, Night and Chaos. Anything 
 capable of being generalized, and which has a constant and profound 
 influence on human life and destiny, is susceptible of personification ; 
 and the personification is most conveniently denoted by the use of 
 a capital. On the other hand, there is no doubt that this liberty has 
 often been abused by poets. 
 
 973. Wandering. Transitive, as in P. L. 4 : 234; 11 : 779; P. R. 
 1 : 354 ; 2 : 246 ; 4 : 600. So err, P. L. 10 : 266. 
 
 977. Confine with. Border upon. Some other place. Cf. v. 
 345. 
 
 979. Thither. This adverb is strictly used only with verbs of 
 motion. By using it with arrive the latter word is made to express 
 
BOOK II. 187 
 
 both motion and the following state of rest. This is an imitation of 
 a Latinism: hue ades, Virg. Eel. 2 : 45; Cf. Hor. Sat. II. iii. 80. 
 
 980. Profound. A noun, like Lat. prqfundum. 
 
 982. Behoof. Define. Lost. Adjective. 
 
 985. Journey. Almost in the sense of 'mission,' 'undertaking.' 
 
 987. Yours . . . mine. A similar antithesis in Mn. 1 : 76-77. 
 
 988. Anarch. Who? The word was first used in English by- 
 Milton. 
 
 989. Incomposed. Discomposed ; Lat. ineompositus. 
 
 990. I know thee . . . who thou art. Mk. 1 : 24 ; Lk. 4 : 34. 
 994. Frighted Deep. Virgil (.En. 6 : 800) speaks of the ' af- 
 frighted mouths (trepida ostia) of Nile.' 
 
 997. Millions. What reason is there for thinking this hyper- 
 bolical ? 
 
 999. Can. What verb is to be supplied ? 
 1001. Intestine broils. Cf. P. L. 6 : 259. 
 
 1005. Golden chain. The ultimate source of the phrase is II. 8 : 
 19-22, where Zeus exclaims, ' Fasten ye a rope of gold from heaven, 
 and all ye gods lay hold thereof and all goddesses ; yet could ye not 
 drag from heaven to earth Zeus.' 
 
 Of the Homeric figure various allegorical interpretations have 
 been made. Thus Plato, Thesetetus 153 D : ' . . . The golden chain 
 in Homer, by which he meant the sun, thus indicating that while 
 the sun and the heavens go round, all things human and divine are 
 and are preserved, but if the sun were to be arrested in his course, 
 then all things would be destroyed, and, as the saying is, Chaos 
 would come again.' Macrobius (on the Somnium Scipionis 1 : 14) 
 has another interpretation, which Ben Jonson follows in his Hy- 
 mensei, and again in his Epode (Forest 11). I quote from the latter : — 
 
 Now, true Love 
 
 No such effects doth prove ; 
 That is an essence far more gentle, fine ; 
 
 Pui'e, perfect, nay divine ; 
 It is a golden chain let down from heaven 
 
 Whose links are bright and even, 
 That falls like sleep on lovers, and combines 
 
 The soft and sweetest minds 
 In equal knots. 
 
 See also Tennyson, Morte d' Arthur 255. 
 
188 NOTES 
 
 1008-1009. "What is the mistake made by Landor in the follow- 
 ing? — ' [These verses] could be spared. Satan but little encouraged 
 his followers by reminding them that, if they took the course he 
 pointed out, they were 
 
 So much the nearer danger, 
 
 nor was it necessary to remind them of the obvious fact by saying, 
 
 Havoc, and spoil, and ruin are ray gain.' 
 
 1011. Sea. Cf. vv. 939, 961. 
 
 1015. Fighting elements. Cf. v. 896 ff. " 
 
 1018. Justling rocks. Apollonius Rhodius tells the story of the 
 Argonauts, or voyagers in the ship Argo. The prophet Phineus, 
 foretelling what should befall them, remarks {Arg. 2 : 286 ff .) : ' First 
 of all . . . ye shall see the two Cyanean rocks [known as the Sym- 
 plegades] at the place where two seas meet. Through these, I trow, 
 none can win a passage. For they are not fixed on foundations be- 
 low, but oft they clash together upon each other.' He instructs 
 them how to escape the danger, and they follow his directions: ' On 
 they went in grievous fear, and already on their ears the thud of 
 clashing rocks smote unceasingly, and the dripping cliffs roared. . . . 
 The eddying current stayed the ship in the midst of " the Clashers," 
 and they quaked on either side, and thundered, and the ship-timbers 
 throbbed. Then did Athene with her left hand hold the stubborn 
 rock apart, while with her right she thrust them through upon their 
 course ; and the ship shot through the air like a winged arrow. Yet 
 the rocks, ceaselessly dashing together, crushed off, in passing, the 
 tip of the carved stern.' 
 
 1019. Ulysses. As described in the Odyssey, Bk. 12. 
 
 1020. Whirlpool. Scylla is usually described as a rock, but in 
 Ovid, Met. 14 : 51, Scylla, before her transformation into a rock, was 
 wont to retreat to a ' small whirlpool ' (parvus gurges), in which she 
 was afterward fixed. 
 
 1021-1022. Purpose of the repetition ? 
 1024. Amain. Cf. v. 165. 
 
 1028. Bridge. Cf . P. L. 10 : 282-305, especially 293-305. 
 
 1029. Orb. Cf. the ' wall immovable ' of P. LAO: 302-303, which 
 may perhaps mean the Empyrean Heaven, motionless while all its 
 
BOOK II. 189 
 
 inner concentric spheres, at whose centre is the earth, are revolving. 
 For this theory of the universe see Longfellow's translation of the 
 Divine Comedy, note on Paradiso 1:1. Orb might mean orbit, as 
 sometimes in Latin; or, conceiving the earth, with the ancients, 
 to be a flat disk, it might mean the rim of this disk. 
 
 1033. God and good Angels. So in Shak. Rich. III. v. 3. 
 
 1034. Sacred. Sophocles (Electra 86) calls light 'holy' (ipaos 
 a-yyov). But see particularly P. L. 3 : 1-6. 
 
 Note the exceeding beauty of this passage to the end. 
 
 1035. Walls. See v. 343. 
 
 1037. Dawn. Cf. P. L. 3 : 499-500. 
 
 1041. That. So that. 
 
 1043. Vessel. Cf . Browning, Flight of the Duchess : 
 
 And at last, as its haven some buffeted ship sees, 
 (Come all the way from the north-parts with sperm oil) 
 I hope to get safely out of the turmoil. 
 
 Holds. Makes for. A Latinism ; so portum tenet, sEn. 1 : 400. 
 Some translate the Latin verb by ' reach,' in such phrases as this; but 
 the context seems to favor the other meaning here. 
 
 1046. Weighs. Balances; see poise, v. 906. 
 
 1047. Empyreal Heaven. Cf. P. L. 3 : 56-62. 
 1049-1050. Cf. P. L. 3 : 504-509. 
 
 1050. Sapphire. See Isa. 54:11; Rev. 21:19. Native seat. 
 Cf. P. L. 1 : 85-87. 
 
 1052. Pendent world. Used by Shakespeare (Meas. III. i. 126) 
 but perhaps originally from Ovid, Met. 1 : 12 ' nee circumf uso pende- 
 bat in aere tellus ponderibus librata suis' (the earth did not as yet 
 hang in the surrounding air, balanced by its own weight) ; cf. P. L. 
 7 : 242. Milton, in adopting the phrase, seems to have construed 
 pendent more liberally, in connection with chain. Cf. Garnett, Mil- 
 ton, p. 158: 'This pendant world, observe, is not the earth, as Addison 
 understood it, but the entire sidereal universe, depicted not as the 
 infinity we now know it to be, but as a definite object, so insulated in 
 the vastness of space as to be perceptible to the distant Fiend as a 
 minute star, and no larger in comparison with the courts of Heaven 
 — themselves not wholly seen — than such a twinkler matched with 
 the full-orbed moon. Such a representation, if it diminishes the 
 grandeur of the universe accessible to sense, exalts that of the super- 
 
190 NOTES. 
 
 sensual and extramundane regions where the action takes its "birth, 
 and where Milton's gigantic imagination is most perfectly at home.' 
 
 1052. Star. Perhaps suggested by Hor., Epoch 15 : 1-2, 'The 
 moon was shining amid the lesser stars ; ' perhaps rather by Hor., Od. 
 I. xii. 46-48 : ' Shines among all the Julian star, like the moon among 
 the lesser fires.' 
 
 1054. Revenge. Earlier occurrences of this word in P. L.? 
 What ground for revenge had Satan ? 
 
 1055. Cursed hour. Why? 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 Extracts from the Genesis of the Pseudo-C.edmon, Morley's 
 Translation. 
 
 (W. 20-45, 78-111, 246-260, 299-438, 442-457.) 
 
 Even there 
 Pain came to them, Envy and Pride began 
 There first to weave ill counsel and to stir 
 The minds of angels. Then, athirst for strife, 
 He said that northward he would own in Heaven 5 
 
 A home and a high throne. Then God was wroth, 
 And for the host He had made glorious, 
 For those pledge-breakers, our souls' guardians, 
 The Lord made anguish a reward, a home 
 In banishment, hell-groans, hard pain, and bade 10 
 
 That torture-house abide their joyless fall. 
 When with eternal night and sulphur pains, 
 Fulness of fire, dread cold, reek and red flames, 
 He knew it filled, then through that hopeless home 
 He bade the woful horror to increase. 15 
 
 But after as before was peace in Heaven, 
 Fair rule of love ; dear unto all the Lord 
 Of Lords, the King of Hosts, to all His own, 
 And glories of the good who possessed joy 
 In Heaven the Almighty Father still increased. 20 
 
 191 
 
192 APPENDIX. 
 
 Then peace was among dwellers in the sky, 
 
 Blaming and lawless malice were gone out, 
 
 And angels feared no more, since plotting foes 
 
 Who cast off Heaven were bereft of light. 
 
 Their glory-seats behind them in God's realm, 25 
 
 Enlarged with gifts, stood happy, bright with bloom, 
 
 But ownerless since the curst spirits went 
 
 Wretched to exile within bars of Hell. 
 
 Then thought within His mind the Lord of Hosts 
 
 How He again might fix within His rule 30 
 
 The great creation, thrones of heavenly light 
 
 High in the Heavens for a better band, 
 
 Since the proud scathers had relinquished them. 
 
 The holy God, therefore, in His great might 
 
 Willed that there should be set beneath Heaven's span 35 
 
 Earth, firmament, wide waves, created world, 
 
 Replacing foes cast headlong from their home. 
 
 Here yet was naught save darkness of the cave, 
 
 The broad abyss, whereon the steadfast King 
 
 Looked with His eyes and saw that space of gloom, 40 
 
 Saw the dark cloud lower in lasting night, 
 
 Was deep and dim, vain, useless, strange to God, 
 
 Black under Heaven, wan, waste, till through His word 
 
 The King of Glory had created life. 
 
 The Almighty had disposed ten angel-tribes, 45 
 
 The holy Father by His strength of hand, 
 
 That they whom He well trusted should serve Him 
 
 And work His will. For that the holy God 
 
 Gave intellect, and shaped them with His hands. 
 
 In happiness He placed them, and to one 50 
 
 He added prevalence and might of thought, 
 
APPENDIX. 193 
 
 Sway over much, next highest to Himself 
 
 In Heaven's realm. Him He had wrought so bright 
 
 That pure as starlight was in Heaven the form 
 
 Which God the Lord of Hosts had given him. 55 
 
 Praise to the Lord his work, and cherishing 
 
 Of heavenly joy, and thankfulness to God 
 
 For his share of that gift of light, which then 
 
 Had long been his. But he perverted it, 
 
 Against Heaven's highest Lord he lifted war, 60 
 
 Against the Most High in*His sanctuary. 
 
 Then was the Mighty wroth, Heaven's highest Lord 
 
 Cast him from his high seat, for he had brought 
 
 His Master's hate on him. His favor lost, 
 
 The Good was angered against him, and he 65 
 
 Must therefore seek the depth of Hell's fierce pains, 
 
 Because he strove against Heaven's highest Lord, 
 
 Who shook him from His favor, cast him down 
 
 To the deep dales of Hell, where he became 
 
 Devil. The Fiend with all his comrades fell 70 
 
 From Heaven, angels, for three nights and days, 
 
 From Heaven to Hell, where the Lord changed them all 
 
 To devils, because they His Deed and Word 
 
 Refused to worship. Therefore in worse light 
 
 Under the earth beneath, Almighty God 75 
 
 Had placed them triumphless in the swart Hell. 
 
 There evening, immeasurably long, 
 
 Brings to each fiend renewal of the fire ; 
 
 Then comes, at dawn, the east wind keen with frost ; 
 
 Its dart, or fire continual, torment sharp, 80 
 
 The punishment wrought for them, they must bear. 
 
 Their world was changed, and those first times filled Hell 
 
194 APPENDIX. 
 
 With the detriers. Still the angels held, 
 
 They who fulfilled God's pleasure, Heaven's heights ; 
 
 Those others, hostile, who such strife had raised 85 
 
 Against their Lord, lie in the fire, bear pangs, 
 
 Fierce burning heat in midst of Hell, broad flames, 
 
 Fire and therewith also the bitter reek 
 
 Of smoke and darkness ; for they paid no heed 
 
 To service of their God ; their wantonness 
 
 Of angel's pride deceived them, who refused 
 
 To worship the Almighty Word. Their pain 
 
 Was great. Then were they fallen to the depth 
 
 Of fire in the hot Hell for their loose thought 
 
 And pride unmeasured, sought another land 95 
 
 That was without light and was full of flame, 
 
 Terror immense of fire. Then the fiends felt 
 
 That they unnumbered pains had in return, 
 
 Through might of God, for their great violence, 
 
 But most for pride. Then spoke the haughty king, 100 
 
 Once brightest among angels, in the heavens 
 
 Whitest, and to his Master dear, beloved 
 
 Of God, until they lightly went astray, 
 
 And for that madness the Almighty God 
 
 Was wroth with him, and into ruin cast 105 
 
 Him down to his new bed, and shaped him then 
 
 A name, said that the highest should be called 
 
 Satan thenceforth, and o'er Hell's swart abyss 
 
 Bade him have rule and avoid strife with God. 
 
 Satan discoursed, he who henceforth ruled Hell no 
 
 Spake sorrowing. 
 
 God's angel erst, he had shone white in Heaven, 
 
 Till his soul urged, and most of all its pride, 
 
 That of the Lord of Hosts he should no more 
 
APPENDIX. 195 
 
 Bend to the word. About his heart his soul 115 
 
 Tumultuously heaved, hot pains of wrath 
 
 Without him. 
 
 Then said he, < Most unlike this narrow place 
 
 To that which once we knew, high in Heaven's realm, 
 
 Which my Lord gave me, though therein no more 120 
 
 For the Almighty we hold royalties. 
 
 Yet right hath He not done in striking us 
 
 Down to the fiery bottom of hot Hell, 
 
 Banished from Heaven's kingdom with decree 
 
 That He will set in it the race of Man. 125 
 
 Worst of my sorrows this, that, wrought of earth, 
 
 Adam shall sit in bliss on my strong throne, 
 
 Whilst we these pangs endure, this grief in Hell. 
 
 Woe ! Woe ! had I the power of my hands, 
 
 And for a season, for one winter's space, 130 
 
 Might be without ; then with this host I — 
 
 But iron binds me round ; this coil of chains 
 
 Rides me ; I rule no more ; close bonds of Hell 
 
 Hem me their prisoner. Above, below, 
 
 Here is vast fire, and never have I seen 
 
 More loathly landscape ; never fade the flames 
 
 Hot over Hell. Rings clasp me, smooth hard bands 
 
 Mar motion, stay my wandering, feet bound, 
 
 Hands fastened, and the ways of these Hell-gates 
 
 Accurst so that I cannot free my limbs ; 
 
 Great lattice bars, hard iron hammered hot, 
 
 Lie round me, wherewith God hath bound me down 
 
 Fast by the neck. 
 
 So know I that He knew 
 My mind, and that the Lord of Hosts perceived 
 That if between us two by Adam came 145 
 
 135 
 
 140 
 
196 APPENDIX. 
 
 Evil towards that royalty of Heaven, 
 
 I having power of my hands — 
 
 But now we suffer throes in Hell, gloom, heat, 
 
 Grim, bottomless ; us God Himself hath swept 
 
 Into these mists of darkness, wherefore sin 150 
 
 Can He not lay against us that we planned 
 
 Evil against Him in the land. Of light 
 
 He hath shorn us, cast us into utmost pain. 
 
 May we not then plan vengeance, pay Him back 
 
 With any hurt, since shorn by Him of light ? 155 
 
 Now He hath set the bounds of a mid-earth 
 
 Where after His own image He hath wrought 
 
 Man, by whom He will people once again 
 
 Heaven's kingdom with pure souls. Therefore intent 
 
 Must be our thought that, if we ever may, 160 
 
 On Adam and his offspring we may wreak 
 
 Kevenge, and, if we can devise a way, 
 
 Pervert His will. I trust no more the light 
 
 Which he thinks long to enjoy with angel power. 
 
 Bliss we obtain no more, nor can attain 165 
 
 To weaken God's strong will ; but let us now 
 
 Turn from the race of Man that heavenly realm 
 
 Which may no more be ours, contrive that they 
 
 Forfeit His favor, undo what His Word 
 
 Ordained : then, wroth of mind, He from His grace 170 
 
 Will cast them, then shall they too seek this Hell 
 
 And these grim depths. Then may we for ourselves 
 
 Have them in this strong durance, sons of men 
 
 For servants. Of the warfare let us now 
 
 Begin to take thought. If of old I gave 175 
 
 To any thane, while we in that good realm 
 
 Sat happy and had power of our thrones, 
 
APPENDIX. 197 
 
 Gifts of a Prince, then at no dearer time 
 
 Could he reward my gift, if any now 
 
 Among my followers would be my friend, tso 
 
 That he might pass forth upward from these bounds, 
 
 Had power with him that, winged, he might fly, 
 
 Borne on the clouds, to where stand Adam and Eve 
 
 Wrought on earth's kingdom, girt with happiness, 
 
 While we are cast down into this deep dale. 185 
 
 Now these are worthier to the Lord, may own 
 
 The blessing rightly ours in Heaven's realm, 
 
 This the design apportioned to mankind. 
 
 Sore is my mind and rue is in my thought 
 
 That ever henceforth they should possess Heaven. 190 
 
 H ever any of you in any way 
 
 May turn them from the teaching of God's word 
 
 They shall be evil to Him, and if they 
 
 Break His commandment, then will He be wroth 
 
 Against them, then will be withdrawn from them 195 
 
 Their happiness, and punishment prepared, 
 
 Some grievous share of harm. Think all of this, 
 
 How to deceive them. In these fetters then 
 
 I can take rest, if they that kingdom lose. 
 
 He who shall do this hath prompt recompense 200 
 
 Henceforth for ever of what may be won 
 
 Of gain within these fires. I let him sit 
 
 Beside myself.' 
 
 Then God's antagonist arrayed himself 
 
 Swift in rich arms. He had a guileful mind. 205 
 
 The hero set the helmet on his head 
 
 And bound it fast, fixed it with clasps. He knew 
 
 Many a speech deceitful, turned him thence, 
 
198 APPENDIX. 
 
 Hardy of mind, departed through Hell's doors, 
 
 Striking the flames in two with a fiend's power; 210 
 
 Would secretly deceive with wicked deed 
 
 Men, the Lord's subjects, that misled, forlorn, 
 
 To God they became evil. So he fared, 
 
 Through his fiend's power, till on earth he found 
 
 Adam, God's handiwork, with him his wife, 215 
 
 The fairest woman. 
 
INDEX OF AUTHORS 
 
 Quoted or Referred to. 
 
 (The numbers refer to pages. Biblical references are not listed.) 
 
 Abbott, 134, 135, 142, 158. 
 Addison, 141, 147, 152, 156. 
 JEschylus, 27, 122, 125, 126, 128, 130, 
 
 158, 162, 164, 166, 183. 
 Ammianus Marcellinus, 152-153. 
 Apollodorus, 141. 
 Apollonius Rhodius, 170, 188. 
 Aquinas, 127. 
 
 Ariosto, 12, 27, 121, 131, 148. 
 Aristophanes, 163. 
 Aristotle, 12, 16, 17. 
 Arnold, 36-40, 125-126, 150-151. 
 
 Bacon, 42, 127. 
 Bentley, 153, 171. 
 Beowulf, 144. 
 Boiardo, 180. 
 Bright, John, 135. 
 Browne, Sir Thomas, 33. 
 Browne, William, 145. 
 Browning, 180, 189. 
 Burke, 148-150, 162, 175, 179. 
 Byron, 127. 
 
 Csedmon (Pseudo-), 122, 123, 124, 125, 
 132, 152, 167, 168, 173, 175, 176, 183, 
 191-198. 
 
 Cresar, 134, 153. 
 
 Callimachus, 13. 
 
 Carlyle, 172. 
 
 Gary, 154. 
 
 Castelvetro, 17. 
 
 Catullus, 133, 136, 138. 
 
 Chaucer, 123, 138, 173. 
 
 Cicero, 16, 27, 152, 154, 167, 169, 176, 
 
 185, 187. 
 Claudian, 171. 
 Coleridge, 148. 
 Coverdale, 122. 
 Cowley, 136. 
 Cowper, 36. 
 
 Dante, 8, 27, 36, 123, 126, 150, 152, 154, 
 169, 172, 173, 174, 177, 178, 182, 189. 
 
 Be Mille, 185. 
 
 Demosthenes, 16, 27. 
 
 Diodorus Siculus, 173. 
 
 Dionysius the Areopagite (Pseudo-), 
 127, 157. 
 
 Drummond, 183. 
 
 Dryden, 119. 
 
 Du Bartas, 28. 
 
 Emerson, R. W., 40-42. 
 Emerson, O. F., 128. 
 Ennius, 184. 
 
 Euripides, 13, 16, 27, 184, 185. 
 Fairfax, 120, 125, 143, 152, 158. 
 
 199 
 
200 
 
 IXDEX OF AUTHORS. 
 
 Garnett, 131-132, 135, 147, 177, 178, 
 
 183, 189. 
 Gayley, 140. 
 Gildersleeve, 145. 
 Goethe, 38. 
 Gray, 159. 
 
 Gregory (the Great), 152. 
 Grotius, 5, 134. 
 
 Hakluyt, 131. 
 
 Hermogenes, 16. 
 
 Herodotus, 156, 173, 185. 
 
 Hesiod, 142, 144, 178, 179, 184, 186. 
 
 Homer, 9, 12, 27, 34-36, 120, 121, 124, 
 125, 126, 128, 129, 130, 131, 133, 135, 
 136, 137, 139, 142, 146, 147, 150, 152, 
 154, 155, 156, 157, 159, 161, 163, 167, 
 169, 170, 171, 172, 173, 174, 176, 177, 
 178, 179, 181, 182, 183, 187, 188. 
 
 Horace, 17, 27, 128, 133, 134, 137, 154, 
 159, 161, 164, 166, 171, 172, 173, 180, 
 182, 183, 184, 187, 190. 
 
 Hunt, Leigh, 144, 177. 
 
 Jebb, 146-147. 
 
 Jerome, 140, 168. 
 
 Jonson, 133, 153, 160, 186, 187. 
 
 Juvenal, 27, 168, 179. 
 
 Kimchi, 139. 
 
 Landor, 34-36, 121, 122, 124, 129, 138, 
 145, 146, 147, 148, 150, 151, 152, 153, 
 154, 157, 159, 161, 164, 166, 167, 168, 
 173, 174, 175, 178-179, 188. 
 
 Langland, 143. 
 
 Leopardi, 38. 
 
 Lewes, 148-150. 
 
 Livy, 128, 138, 142, 153, 165, 169. 
 
 Longfellow, 30, 133, 137, 148, 189. 
 
 Longinus, 16. 
 
 Lovelace, 134. 
 
 Lowell, 30-34, 125, 129, 131, 134, 137, 
 164, 175, 179, 1S2, 186. 
 
 Lucan, 123, 144, 185. 
 
 Lucretius, 27, 132, 169, 170, 184, 185. 
 
 Lycophron, 173. 
 
 Macaulay, 148, 161, 163. 
 
 Macrobius, 187. 
 
 Magnus, Olaus, 131. 
 
 Marino, 185. 
 
 Marlowe, 33, 134. 
 
 Marvell, 160. 
 
 Masson, 18-29, 131. 
 
 Mazzoni, 17. 
 
 Merrill, 136. 
 
 More, Henry, 158. 
 
 Murray, J. A. H., 135, 144, 148, 160. 
 
 Nares, 145. 
 
 Newton, Thomas, 134, 140, 118, 151, 
 154, 155, 156, 182. 
 
 Orm, 122. 
 
 Orosius, 168. 
 
 Orphica, 184. 
 
 Ovid, 27, 120, 133, 136, 141, 147, 151, 
 154, 155, 156, 157, 159, 160, 168, 171, 
 173, 174, 175, 179, 184, 188, 189. 
 
 Pattison, 135. 
 
 Pausanias, 142. 
 
 Pearce, 160. 
 
 Persius, 27. 
 
 Petrarch, 8, 27. 
 
 Phalereus, 16. 
 
 Pindar, 13, 130, 147, 171, 174, 180. 
 
 Plato, 10, 16, 27, 145, 163, 171, 173, 183, 
 
 187. 
 Pliny, 159. 
 Plutarch, 134, 143. 
 Pope, 175, 181. 
 Propertius, 174. 
 
 Quintilian, 141, 163. 
 
 Raleigh, 137. 
 
INDEX OF AUTHORS. 
 
 201 
 
 Rolfe, 145. 
 Ruskin, 133. 
 
 Sallust, 123. 
 
 Scott, 144, 148, 158, 174. 
 
 Seneca, 150, 156. 
 
 Shakespeare, 27, 31, 34, 36, 37, 40, 122, 
 124, 125, 126, 128, 129, 134, 138, 142, 
 143, 145, 151, 153, 155, 158, 161, 163, 
 164, 166, 168, 169, 171, 172, 173, 176, 
 177, 178, 180, 181, 183, 184, 189. 
 
 Shelley, 177, 186. 
 
 Sidney, 121, 175. 
 
 Silius Italicus, 152. 
 
 Sophocles, 13, 16, 27, 128, 134, 142, 189. 
 
 Spenser, 27, 31, 34, 43, 123, 129, 132, 
 136, 138, 142, 143, 151, 154, 158, 160, 
 161, 170, 173, 179, 180, 182, 183, 184, 
 185, 186. 
 
 Statins, 144, 150, 179, 183. 
 
 Sylvester, 27. 
 
 Tacitus, 153, 170, 173. 
 
 Tasso, 12, 17, 27, 120, 125, 136, 143, 144, 
 
 152, 158, 169. 
 Tennyson, 129, 147, 155, 187. 
 Theocritus, 121, 141. 
 Thomson, 36. 
 Thucydides, 145. 
 Todd, 162, 174. 
 Trench, 151. 
 
 Virgil, 12, 27, 36, 39, 120, 121, 122, 124, 
 
 127, 128, 129, 130, 132, 133, 136, 137, 
 
 139, 143, 144, 148, 150, 151, 153, 156, 
 
 157, 158, 159, 161, 162, 163, 164, 165, 
 
 166, 167, 168, 169, 170, 171, 172, 173, 
 
 174, 175, 176, 178, 179, 180, 181, 182, 
 183, 184, 185, 186, 187, 189. 
 
 Webster, Daniel, 143, 157. 
 Wordsworth, 36, 43, 137, 176-177, 186. 
 Wyclif , 138. 
 
 Xenophanes, 184. 
 Xenophon, 10. 
 
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