Here at least

We shall be free; th' Almighty hath not built
Here for his envy; will not drive us hence:
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,
Th' associates and co-partners of our loss,
Lie thus astonish'd on th' 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
Regain'd in Heaven, or what more lost in Hell? »
So Satan spake, and him Beelzebub

Thus answer'd: « Leader of those armies bright,
Which but the' Omnipotent none could have foil'd,
If once they hear that voice, their liveliest pledge
Of hope in fears and dangers, heard so oft
In worst extremes, and on the perilous edge
Of battle when it rag'd, 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,
As we erewhile, astounded and amaz'd;
No wonder, fall'n such a pernicious height! >>

He scarce had ceas'd, when the superior Fiend Was moving toward the shore: his ponderous shield, Ethereal temper, massy, large and round,

Behind him cast; the broad circumference

Hung on his shoulders like the Moon, whose orb Through optic glass the Tuscan artist views.

At evening from the top of Fesolé,

Franchi sarem; qui nulla oprò quel grande Da invidiar, nè cen vorrà cacciati : Regniam securi qui; bella è, cred' io, Ambizion, regnar, benchè in inferno: Meglio in inferno re che servo in cielo ! Ma perchè dunque i nostri fidi amici Soci e consorti di ruina nostra Lasciam confusi in l'obbliato stagno, Ne li appelliam pigliar con noi lor parte In questa mansion misera, o di nuovo Con raccolte armi osar se nulla in cielo Più aver si può o più perder in inferno? » Parlò Satan, e Belzebube a lui Così: « Duce di queste schiere illustri, Cui vincer sol potea l'onnipossente, Se odon tua voce ancor, lor vivo pegno Di speme in rischi e ambasce, in casi estremi Sì spesso udita, e nel dubbiar tremendo Quando fervea la pugna, in ogni assalto Loro certo segnal, novel coraggio Piglieran tosto e vita benchè or giacciano Là rovescioni e stesi in l' igneo gorgo Qual noi testè insensati: e maraviglia Non fia, da tal caduti altezza orrenda! » Finiva appena e già il demonio primo Ver la spiaggia movea: gittossi indietro Lo scudo ponderoso, eterea tempra, Massiccio, ampio, rotondo; a tergo il vasto Orbe pendea, qual luna a cui la sfera Di lenti armato il Toscan sofo a notte Studia del colle fiesolano in cima

Or in Valdarno, to descry new lands,
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 walk'd with, to support uneasy steps
Over the burning marle (not like those steps
On Heaven's azure); and the torrid clime
Smote on him sore besides, vaulted with fire.
Nathless he so endur'd, till on the beach
Of that inflamed sea he stood, and call'd
His legions, angel-forms, who lay intranc'd,
Thick as autumnal leaves that strow the brooks
In Vallombrosa, where th' Etrurian shades,
High over-arch'd, imbower; or scatter'd sedge
Afloat, when with fierce winds Orion arm'd

Hath vex'd 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 carcases
And broken chariot-wheels: so thick bestrown,
Abject and lost, lay these, covering the flood,
Under amazement of their hideous change.
He call'd so loud, that all the hollow deep
Of Hell resounded. « 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?

Od in Valdarno a scorger nuove terre Nel maculato disco o laghi o monti. Sua lancia, al cui pareggio altero pino Sulle norvegie alture anciso a antenna Di almirante vascel, fia verga esile, L'aiuta ad ir mutando inquieti passi Sulla rovente mota, (ben diversi Dai passi fatti in ciel) e l'aer torrido Che fier percote in lui gli è ignita volta. Tutto sostiene intanto finchè al margo D'esto fiammante mar sostò e chiamava Sue schiere, forme angeliche, ammontate Quali in autunno foglie spesse coprono Di Vallombrosa i rivi, ù l'ombre etrusche In alte volte archeggian; o alga ondante Quando di feri venti Orione armato Batte le spiagge all' Eritreo che everse Busir co' flutti ed i cavai di Memfi, Mentre incalzavan con odiar fellone Di Goshen lo stranier che le lor salme Vide dal salvo lido errar per l'onde Tra rotti carri. Elli così prostesi Vili e perduti stean negl' ignei gorghi Stupiti in se mirar sì guasti e orrendi. Si alto chiamò che tutto il cavo abisso D'inferno rimbombò. « Prenci, potenti, Guerrieri, onor del ciel, già vostro or perso, E stupor tanto può colpire eterni Spirti, od avete questo loco eletto A riposar dopo il sudor di pugna Vostra stanca virtù, a trovar piacente Sonno qui, come in le vallée del cielo?

Or in this abject posture have ye sworn
T'adore the conqueror? who now beholds
Cherub and Seraph rolling in the flood
With scatter'd arms and ensigns, till anon
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 fall'n! >>

They heard, and were abash'd, 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

In which they were, or the fierce pains not feel;
Yet to their general's voice they soon obey'd
Innumerable. As when the potent rod

Of Amram's son, in Egypt's evil day,
Wav'd round the coast, up call'd a pitchy cloud
Of locusts, warping on the eastern wind,
That o'er the realm of impious Pharaon hung
Like night, and darken'd all the land of Nile:
So numberless were those bad Angels seen
Hovering on wing under the cope of Hell,
Twixt upper, nether, and surrounding fires;
Till, as a signal given, the' up-lifted 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;
A multitude, like which the populous North
Pour'd never from her frozen loins, to pass
Rhene or the Danaw, when her barbarous sons