Nor folid might refift that edge: it met
The fword of Satan with steep force to fmite
Defcending, and in half cut sheer; nor stay'd,
But with fwift wheel reverse, deep entring shar'd
All his right fide: then Satan first knew pain,
And writh'd him to and fro convolv'd; fo fore
The griding sword with discontinuous wound
Pass'd through him: but th' ethereal substance clos'd,
Not long divisible; and from the gash
A ftream of necta'rous humor iffuing flow'd
Sanguin, fuch as celestial Spirits may bleed,
And all his armour ftain'd ere while fo bright.
Forthwith on all fides to his aid was run
By Angels many and ftrong, who interpos'd
Defense, while others bore him on their fhields
Back to his chariot, where it stood retir'd
From off the files of war; there they him laid
Gnashing for anguish and despite and shame,
To find himself not matchlefs, and his pride
Humbled by fuch rebuke, fo far beneath
His confidence to equal God in power.
Yet foon he heal'd; for Spi'rits that live throughout Vital in every part, not as frail man
In entrails, heart or head, liver or reins,
Cannot but by annihilating die;
Nor in their liquid texture mortal wound
Receive, no more than can the fluid air!
All heart they live, all head, all eye, all ear,
All intellect, all fenfe; and as they please,
They limb themselves, and color, shape or fize
Affume, as likes them beft, condense or rare.
Mean while in other parts like deeds deferv'd
Memorial, where the might of Gabriel fought,
And with fierce enfigns pierc'd the deep array
Of Moloch furious king; who him defy'd,
And at his chariot wheels to drag him bound
Threaten'd, nor from the Holy One of Heaven
Refrain'd his tongue blasphémous; but anon
Down cloven to the wafte, with fhatter'd arms
And uncouth pain fled bellowing. On each wing
Uriel and Raphaël his vaunting foe,
Though huge, and in a rock of diamond arm'd,
Vanquish'd Adramelech, and Afmadai,
Two potent thrones, that to be less than Gods Difdain'd, but meaner thoughts learn'd in their flight, Mangled with ghastly wounds through plate and mail. Nor ftood unmindful Abdiel to annoy
The atheist crew, but with redoubled blow
Ariel and Arioch, and the violence
Of Ramiel fcorch'd and blafted overthrew.
I might relate of thousands, and their names
Eternize here on earth; but those elect
Angels, contented with their fame in Heaven,
Seek not the praise of men: the other fort,
In might though wondrous and in acts of war,
Nor of renown less eager, yet by doom
Cancel'd from Heav'n and facred memory,
Nameless in dark oblivion let them dwell.
For ftrength from truth divided and from juft,
Illaudable, nought merits but difpraise
And ignominy, yet to glory' aspires
Vain-glorious, and through infamy feeks fame:
Therefore eternal filence be their doom.
And now their mightiest quell'd, the battel fwerv'd,
With many an inroad gor'd; deformed rout
Enter'd, and foul diforder; all the ground
With shiver'd armour strown, and on a heap
Chariot and charioteer lay overturn'd,
And fiery foaming fteeds; what ftood, recoil'd
O'er-wearied, through the faint Satanic host
Defensive scarce, or with pale fear surpriz'd,
Then firft with fear furpriz'd and fenfe of pain,
Fled ignominious, to fuch evil brought
By fin of disobedience, till that hour
Not liable to fear or flight or pain.
Far otherwife th' inviolable Saints
In cubic phalanx firm advanc'd entire,
Invulnerable, impenetrably arm'd;
Such high advantages their innocence
Gave them above their foes; not to have finn'd,
Not to have difobey'd; in fight they stood
Unwearied, unobnoxious to be pain'd
By wound, though from their place by violence mov'd.
Now night her courfe began, and over Heaven
Inducing darkness, grateful truce impos'd,
And filence on the odious din of war:
Under her cloudy covert both retir'd,
Victor and vanquish'd: on the foughten field
Michaël and his Angels prevalent
Incamping, plac'd in guard their watches round,
Cherubic waving fires: on th' other part
Satan with his rebellious disappear'd,
Far in the dark diflodg'd: and void of reft,
His potentates to council call'd by night;
And in the midst thus undismay'd began.
O now in danger try'd, now known in arms
Not to be overpow'r'd, Companions dear,
Found worthy not of liberty alone,
Too mean pretence, but what we more affect,
Honor, dominion, glory and renown;
Who have sustain’d one day in doubtful fight
(And if one day, why not eternal days?)
What Heaven's Lord had pow'rfullest to send
Against us from about his throne, and judg'd
Sufficient to fubdue us to his will,
But proves not fo: then fallible, it seems,
Of future we may deem him, though till now
Omnifcient thought. True is, lefs firmly arm'd, 430
Some disadvantage we indur'd and pain,
Till now not known, but known as foon contemn'd;
Since now we find this our empyreal form
Incapable of mortal injury,
Imperishable, and though pierc'd with wound,
Soon clofing, and by native vigor heal'd.
Of evil then so small as cafy think
The remedy; perhaps more valid arms,
Weapons more violent, when next we meet,
May serve to better us, and worse our foes,
Or equal what between us made the odds,
In nature none: if other hidden caufe
Left them fuperior, while we can preferve
Unhurt our minds and understanding found,
Due fearch and confultation will difclofe.
He fat; and in th' affembly next upstood
Nifroch, of Principalities the prime;
As one he stood escap'd from cruel fight,
Sore toil'd, his riven arms to havoc hewn,
And cloudy in aspéct thus anfw'ring spake.
Deliverer from new Lords, leader to free
Enjoyment of our right as Gods; yet hard
For Gods, and too unequal work we find,
Against unequal arms to fight in pain,
Against unpain'd, impaffive; from which evil
Ruin muft needs enfue; for what avails
Valor or strength, though matchlefs, quell'd with pain"
Which all fubdues, and makes remifs the hands
Of mightieft? Senfe of pleasure we may well
Spare out of life perhaps, and not repine,
But live content, which is the calmest life:
But pain is perfect mifery, the worst
Of evils, and exceffive, overturns
All patience. He who therefore can invent
With what more forcible we may offend
Our yet unwounded enemies, or arm
Ourselves with like defenfe, to me deferves
No less than for deliverance what we owe.
Whereto with look compos'd Satan reply'd.
Not uninvented that, which thou aright
Believ'ft fo main to our fuccefs, I bring.
Which of us who beholds the bright furfáce
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