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Paradise Lost - Milton John - Страница 10


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Created thing naught vallu'd he nor shun'd;

And with disdainful look thus first began.

Whence and what art thou, execrable shape,

That dar'st, though grim and terrible, advance

Thy miscreated Front athwart my way

To yonder Gates? through them I mean to pass,

That be assur'd, without leave askt of thee:

Retire, or taste thy folly, and learn by proof,

Hell-born, not to contend with Spirits of Heav'n.

To whom the Goblin full of wrauth reply'd,

Art thou that Traitor Angel, art thou hee,

Who first broke peace in Heav'n and Faith, till then

Unbrok'n, and in proud rebellious Arms

Drew after him the third part of Heav'ns Sons

Conjur'd against the highest, for which both Thou

And they outcast from God, are here condemn'd

To waste Eternal daies in woe and pain?

And reck'n'st thou thy self with Spirits of Heav'n,

Hell-doomd, and breath'st defiance here and scorn,

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,

Least with a whip of Scorpions I pursue

Thy lingring, or with one stroke of this Dart

Strange horror seise thee, and pangs unfelt before.

So spake the grieslie terrour, and in shape,

So speaking and so threatning, grew ten fold

More dreadful and deform: on th' other side

Incenc't with indignation SATAN stood

Unterrifi'd, and like a Comet burn'd,

That fires the length of OPHIUCUS huge

In th' Artick Sky, and from his horrid hair

Shakes Pestilence and Warr. Each at the Head

Level'd his deadly aime; thir fatall hands

No second stroke intend, and such a frown

Each cast at th' other, as when two black Clouds

With Heav'ns Artillery fraught, come rattling on

Over the CASPIAN, then stand front to front

Hov'ring a space, till Winds the signal blow

To joyn thir dark Encounter in mid air:

So frownd the mighty Combatants, that Hell

Grew darker at thir frown, so matcht they stood;

For never but once more was either like

To meet so great a foe: and now great deeds

Had been achiev'd, whereof all Hell had rung,

Had not the Snakie Sorceress that sat

Fast by Hell Gate, and kept the fatal Key,

Ris'n, and with hideous outcry rush'd between.

O Father, what intends thy hand, she cry'd,

Against thy only Son? What fury O Son,

Possesses thee to bend that mortal Dart

Against thy Fathers head? and know'st for whom;

For him who sits above and laughs the while

At thee ordain'd his drudge, to execute

What e're 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

Forbore, then these to her SATAN return'd:

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,

What thing thou art, thus double-form'd, and why

In this infernal Vaile first met thou call'st

Me Father, and that Fantasm call'st my Son?

I know thee not, nor ever saw till now

Sight more detestable then him and thee.

T' whom thus the Portress of Hell Gate reply'd;

Hast thou forgot me then, and do I seem

Now in thine eye so foul, once deemd so fair

In Heav'n, when at th' Assembly, and in sight

Of all the Seraphim with thee combin'd

In bold conspiracy against Heav'ns King,

All on a sudden miserable pain

Surpris'd thee, dim thine eyes, and dizzie swumm

In darkness, while thy head flames thick and fast

Threw forth, till on the left side op'ning wide,

Likest to thee in shape and count'nance bright,

Then shining heav'nly fair, a Goddess arm'd

Out of thy head I sprung: amazement seis'd

All th' Host of Heav'n; back they recoild affraid

At first, and call'd me SIN, and for a Sign

Portentous held me; but familiar grown,

I pleas'd, and with attractive graces won

The most averse, thee chiefly, who full oft

Thy self in me thy perfect image viewing

Becam'st enamour'd, and such joy thou took'st

With me in secret, that my womb conceiv'd

A growing burden. Mean while Warr arose,

And fields were fought in Heav'n; wherein remaind

(For what could else) to our Almighty Foe

Cleer Victory, to our part loss and rout

Through all the Empyrean: down they fell

Driv'n 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 giv'n, with charge to keep

These Gates for ever shut, which none can pass

Without my op'ning. 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.

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

Transform'd: but he my inbred enemie

Forth issu'd, brandishing his fatal Dart

Made to destroy: I fled, and cry'd out DEATH;

Hell trembl'd at the hideous Name, and sigh'd

From all her Caves, and back resounded DEATH.

I fled, but he pursu'd (though more, it seems,

Inflam'd with lust then rage) and swifter far,

Me overtook his mother all dismaid,

And in embraces forcible and foule

Ingendring with me, of that rape begot

These yelling Monsters that with ceasless cry

Surround me, as thou sawst, hourly conceiv'd

And hourly born, with sorrow infinite

To me, for when they list into the womb

That bred them they return, and howle and gnaw

My Bowels, their repast; then bursting forth

Afresh with conscious terrours 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

For want of other prey, but that he knows

His end with mine involvd; and knows that I

Should prove a bitter Morsel, and his bane,

When ever that shall be; so Fate pronounc'd.

But thou O Father, I forewarn thee, shun

His deadly arrow; neither vainly hope

To be invulnerable in those bright Arms,

Though temper'd heav'nly, for that mortal dint,

Save he who reigns above, none can resist.

She finish'd, and the suttle Fiend his lore

Soon learnd, now milder, and thus answerd smooth.

Dear Daughter, since thou claim'st me for thy Sire,

And my fair Son here showst me, the dear pledge

Of dalliance had with thee in Heav'n, and joys

Then sweet, now sad to mention, through dire change

Befalln us unforeseen, unthought of, know

I come no enemie, but to set free

From out this dark and dismal house of pain,

Both him and thee, and all the heav'nly Host

Of Spirits that in our just pretenses arm'd

Fell with us from on high: from them I go

This uncouth errand sole, and one for all

My self expose, with lonely steps to tread

Th' unfounded deep, & through the void immense

To search with wandring quest a place foretold

Should be, and, by concurring signs, ere now

Created vast and round, a place of bliss

In the Pourlieues of Heav'n, and therein plac't

A race of upstart Creatures, to supply

Perhaps our vacant room, though more remov'd,

Least Heav'n surcharg'd with potent multitude

Might hap to move new broiles: Be this or aught

Then this more secret now design'd, I haste

To know, and this once known, shall soon return,

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Milton John - Paradise Lost Paradise Lost
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