Each warrior single as in chief, expert
When to advance, or stand, or turn the sway Of battle; open when, and when to close The ridges of grim war: no thought of flight, None of retreat, no unbecoming deed That argued fear; each on himself relied, As only in his arm the moment lay Of victory deeds of eternal fame
Were done, but infinite; for wide was spread That war, and various; sometimes on firm ground A standing fight, then, soaring on main wing, Tormented all the air; all air seem'd then Conflicting fire. Long time in even scale.
The battle hung, till Satan, who that day Prodigious power had shown, and met in arms No equal, ranging through the dire attack Of fighting seraphim confus'd, at length
Saw where the sword of Michael smote, and fell'd Squadrons at once; with huge two-handed sway Brandish'd aloft, the horrid edge came down Wide-wasting; such destruction to withstand
He hasted, and oppos'd the rocky orb Of tenfold adamant, his ample shield,
A vast circumference. At his approach The great arch-angel from his warlike toil Surceas'd, and glad, as hoping here to end Intestine war in heaven, the arch-foe subdued Or captive dragg'd in chains, with hostile frown And visage all inflam'd, first thus began:
« Author of evil, unknown till thy revolt,
Unnam'd in heaven, now plenteous, as thou seest
These acts of hateful strife, hateful to all,
Guerrier si pare un condottiero, un duce Sperto a inoltrar, a star, tornar lo sforzo Della battaglia, aprir, serrare i passi Di cruda pugna: niun pensier di fuga, Niun di ritratta, ned un fatto indegno Che tema accenni; ognuno in se s'affida, Come in sua mano il gran momento posi Della vittoria: opre d'eterna fama Compiérsi ed infinite; ampia si spande La pugna e varia; ora sul fermo suolo Lottaro immoti, ora a gran vol spiegando Tempestan l' aria, e l'aria sembra allora Turbin di foco. In lance ugual la pugna Molto pendè, finchè Satan che possa
Quel dì avea mostra ingente, e niuno in armi Trovato egual, entrato ú più la lotta Fervea di serafin commisti, alfine
Vide ù la spada di Michel percote,
E squadre a un colpo atterra; alto brandito Con lena ad ambe man l'orrendo acciaro Cadea sterminator; ruina tanta
Vold a cessar, ed orbe alpestre oppose Di decuplo adamante, il suo gran scudo Vasto e rotondo. Al suo venire il magno Arcangelo arrestò l'oprar guerriero, E lieto, omai finir l' interna guerra Sperando in cielo, vinto o catenato Il rubel duce, con nemico ciglio, E volto acceso a dir così comincia:
« Autor di mal, pria di tua colpa ignoto Nome nel cielo, ed or si atroce a queste Prove di odiosa guerra, odiosa a tutti,
Though heaviest by just measure on thyself, And thy adherents: how hast thou disturb'd Heaven's blessed peace, and into nature brought Misery uncreated till the crime
Of thy rebellion! how hast thou instill'd
Thy malice into thousands, once upright
And faithful, now prov'd false but think not here To trouble holy rest; heaven, the seat of bliss, From all her confines: heaven, the seat of bliss, Brooks not the works of violence and war. Hence then, and evil go with thee along,
Thy offspring, to the place of evil, Hell;
Thou and thy wicked crew! there mingle broils,
Ere this avenging sword begin thy doom,
Or some more sudden vengeance, wing'd from God, Precipitate the with augmented pain. »
So spake the prince of angels; to whom thus The adversary:
« Nor think thou with wind
Of airy threats to awe, whom yet with deeds Thou canst not. Hast thou turn'd the least of these To flight, or if to fall, but that they rise
Unvanquish'd, easier to transact with me
That thou shouldst hope, imperious, and with threats To chase me hence? err not, that so shall end The strife which thou call'st evil, but we style The strife of glory; which we mean to win, Or turn this heaven itself into the hell Thou fablest; here however to dwell free, If not to reign: meanwhile thy utmost force, And join him nam'd Almighty to thy aid, I fly not, but have sought thee far and nigh. »
Ma grave più per te e pei tuoi seguaci Con giusto pondo; a che turbar tu pace Si bella in cielo, ed in natura addurre Danuaggi non creati fino al crime
Di tua ribellion? A che il veleno Tuo reo spirare in tanti un dì si giusti E fidi, or traditori? L'alma pace Non creder qui turbare; il ciel ti caccia Da suoi confini: il ciel di gioia ostello Opre non vuol di violenza e guerra. Quinci va dunque e teco vada il male Tua prole, alla region del male, a inferno; Tu e tua rea ciurma! ribellion la trama
Pria che il mio ferro ultor la tua condanna Imprenda, o ratto più il furor di Dio Tosto ti piombi fra più crudi affanni. » Si disse il prence angelico; e il nemico A lui così:
«Non creder tu con vane
Minacce d'atterrir chi ancor con l' opre Non potesti. De' miei il men prode hai forse Fugato tu o prostrato, ch' egli invitto
Non risorgesse, e me trattar confidi Più facile, imperando, e con minacce Da qui cacciarmi? oh! si, tal fin la pugna Avrà che tu di male, e noi di gloria Pugna chiamiam: vincer vogliamo, o questo Cielo stesso mutare in quello inferno Che vaneggi; pur qui abitar francati Se non regnar. Tue forze estreme e il tuo Onnipossente or chiama a tua difesa ;
Non fuggo io già, te ormai di falda in falda. »
They ended parle, and both address'd for fight Unspeakable; for who, though with the tongue Of angels, can relate, or to what things Liken on earth conspicuous, that may lift Human imagination to such height
Of godlike power? for likest Gods they seem'd, Stood they or mov'd, in stature, motion, arms, Fit to decide the empire of great heaven.
Now way'd their fiery swords, and in the air Made horrid circles; two broad suns their shields Blaz'd opposite, while expectation stood
In horror; from each hand with speed retir'd, Where erst was thickest fight, the angelic throng, And left large field, unsafe within the wind
Of such commotion; such as (to set forth
Great things by small) if nature's concord broke, Among the constellations war were sprung, Two planets, rushing from aspect malign Of fiercest opposition, in mid sky
Should combat, and their jarring spheres confound. Together both with next to almigty arm Uplifted imminent, one stroke they aim'd That might determine, and not need repeat, As not of power at once; nor odds appear'd In might or swift prevention: but the sword Of Michael from the armoury of God
Was given him temper'd so, that neither keen Nor solid might resist that edge, it met
The sword of Satan, with steep force to smite Descending, and in half cut sheer; nor staid,
But with swift wheel reverse deep entering, shar'd
All his right side: then Satan first knew pain,
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