And Eden were no Eden, thus exposed.

To whom thus Adam fervently replied:
O woman, best are all things as the will
Of God ordain'd them: his creating hand
Nothing imperfect or deficient left

Of all that he created: much less man,
Or aught that might his happy state secure,
Secure from outward force: within himself
The danger lies, yet lies within his power:
Against his will he can receive no harm:
But God left free the will; for what obeys
Reason, is free; and reason he made right,
But bid her well be ware, and still erect;
Lest, by some fair-appearing good surprised,
She dictate false, and misinform the will
To do what God expressly hath forbid.

Not then mistrust, but tender love, enjoins,

That I should mind thee oft: and mind thou me.

Firm we subsist, yet possible to swerve;

Since reason not impossibly may meet

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Some specious object by the foe suborn'd,
And fall into deception unaware,

Not keeping strictest watch, as she was warn'd.
Seek not temptation then, which to avoid
Were better, and most likely if from me
Thou sever not: trial will come unsought.
Wouldst thou approve thy constancy? approve
First thy obedience; the other who can know?
Not seeing thee attempted, who attest?
But if thou think trial unsought may find
Us both securer than thus warn'd thou seem'st,
Go; for thy stay, not free, absents thee more;

y Thus Adam fervently.

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What Eve had just now said required some reprimand from Adam, and it was necessary to describe him as in some degree displeased; but what extreme delicacy has our author shown in choosing the word fervently to express it by! A term, which, though it implies some emotion, yet carries nothing in its idea inconsistent with that subserviency of the passions which subsisted before the Fall. In the two foregoing speeches he had made Adam address himself to her in the affectionate terms of "sole Eve, associate sole," and "Daughter of God and man, immortal Eve;" but here with great judgment he changes those endearing words for these more authoritative,-" O woman!" I should think that Milton in this expression alluded to what our Saviour said to the Virgin Mary,-" Woman, what have I to do with thee?" were not I satisfied that he could not with his learning take these words in the vulgar mistaken sense, which our translation naturally leads ignorant readers into; and must very well know that Tuvi, amongst the Greeks, is a term of great respect. Indeed, throughout this whole conversation, which the poet has in every respect worked up to a faultless perfection, there is the most exact observance of justness and propriety of character. With what strength is the superior excellency of man's understanding here pointed out, and how nicely does our author here sketch out the defects peculiar in general to the female mind! and after all, what great art has he shown in making Adam, contrary to his better reason, grant his spouse's request, beautifully verifying what he had made our general ancestor a little before observe to the angel! b. viii. 546, &c.-THYER.

Go; for thy stay, not free, absents thee more.

It is related of Milton's first wife, that she had not cohabited with him above a

Go in thy native innocence, rely

On what thou hast of virtue; summon all:
For God towards thee hath done his part; do thine.
So spake the patriarch of mankind; but Eve
Persisted; yet submiss, though last, replied:

With thy permission then, and thus forwarn'd
Chiefly by what thy own last reasoning words
Touch'd only; that our trial, when least sought,
May find us both perhaps far less prepared;
The willinger I go, nor much expect

A foe so proud will first the weaker seek;
So bent, the more shall shame him his repulse.
Thus saying, from her husband's hand her hand
Soft she withdrew, and, like a wood-nymph light,
Oread or Dryad, or of Delia's train,
Betook her to the groves; but Delia's self
In gait surpass'd, and goddess-like deport,
Though not as she with bow and quiver arm'd,
But with such gardening-tools as art, yet rude,
Guiltless of fire, had form'd, or angels brought.
To Pales, or Pomona, thus adorn'd,
Likest she seem'd; Pomona, when she fled
Vertumnus; or to Ceres in her prime,
Yet virgin of Proserpina from Jove.
Her long with ardent look his eye pursued
Delighted, but desiring more her stay.
Oft he to her his charge of quick return
Repeated she to him as oft engaged
To be return'd by noon amid the bower,
And all things in best order to invite
Noontide repast, or afternoon's repose.

Oh, much deceived, much failing, hapless Eve,

Of thy presumed return! event perverse!

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Thou never from that hour in Paradise

Found'st either sweet repast or sound repose;

Such ambush, hid among sweet flowers and shades,
Waited with hellish rancour imminent

To intercept thy way, or send thee back

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month before she was very desirous of returning to her friends in the country, there to spend the remainder of the summer. We may suppose that, upon this occasion, their conversation was somewhat of the same nature as Adam and Eve's; and it was upon some such consideration as this, that, after much solicitation, he permitted her to go. It is the more probable that he alluded to his own case in this account of Adam and Eve's parting; as, in the account of their reconciliation, it will appear that he copied exactly what happened to himself.-Newton.

a Virgin of Proserpina from Jove.

A virgin, not having yet conceived Proserpina, who was begot by Jove.-WARBURTON. b Oh, much deceived.

That is, much failing of thy presumed return. These beautiful apostrophes and anticipations are frequent in the poets, who affect to speak in the character of prophets, and like men inspired with the knowledge of futurity. See Virg. Æn. x. 501, &c., and Homer, Il. xvii. 497.-NEWTON.

Despoil'd of innocence, of faith, of bliss!
For now, and since first break of dawn, the fiend,
Mere serpent in appearance, forth was come;
And on his quest, where likeliest he might find
The only two of mankind, but in them
The whole included race, his purposed prey.
In bower and field he sought, where any tuft
Of grove or garden-plot more pleasant lay,
Their tendance, or plantation for delight;
By fountain or by shady rivulet

He sought them both, but wish'd his hap might find

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Eve separate; he wish'd, but not with hope.

Of what so seldom chanced; when to his wish,

Beyond his hope, Eve separate he spies,

Veil'd in a cloud of fragrance, where she stood,
Half spied, so thick the roses blushing round
About her glow'd, oft stooping to support

Each flower of tender stalk, whose head, though gay
Carnation, purple, azure, or speck'd with gold,
Hung drooping unsustain'd; them she upstays
Gently with myrtle band, mindless the while
Herself, though fairest unsupported flower,
From her best prop so far, and storm so nigh.
Nearer he drew, and many a walk traversed
Of stateliest covert, cedar, pine, or palm;
Then voluble and bold, now hid, now seen,
Among thick-woven arborets, and flowers
Imborder'd on each bank, the hand of Eve:
Spot more delicious than those gardens feign'd
Or of revived Adonis, or renown'd
Alcinous, host of old Laertes' son;

Or that, not mystic, where the sapient king
Held dalliance with his fair Egyptian spouse.
Much he the place admired, the person more.
As one who, long in populous city pent,
Where houses thick and sewers annoy the air,
Forth issuing on a summer's morn, to breathe
Among the pleasant villages and farms
Adjoin'd, from each thing met conceives delight,
The smell of grain, or tedded grass, or kine,
Or dairy, each rural sight, each rural sound;
If chance, with nymph-like step, fair virgin pass,
What pleasing seem'd, for her now pleases more;
She most, and in her look sums all delight:
Such pleasure took the serpent to behold
This flowery plat, the sweet recess of Eve
Thus early, thus alone: her heavenly form
Angelic, but more soft, and feminine,

The garden of Solomon.-TODD.

e Or that, not mystic.

Her graceful innocence, her every air
Of gesture, or least action, overawed

His malice, and with rapine sweet bereaved
His fierceness of the fierce intent it brought :
That space the evil one abstracted stood
From his own evil, and for the time remain'd
Stupidly good; of enmity disarm'd,
Of guile, of hate, of envy, of revenge :
But the hot hell that always in him burns,
Though in mid heaven, soon ended his delight,
And tortures him now more, the more he sees
Of pleasure, not for him ordain'd: then soon
Fierce hate he recollects; and all his thoughts
Of mischief, gratulating, thus excites :

Thoughts, whither have ye led me? with what sweet
Compulsion thus transported, to forget

What hither brought us? hate, not love; nor hope
Of Paradise for hell, hope here to taste
Of pleasure; but all pleasure to destroy,
Save what is in destroying: other joy
To me is lost. Then, let me not let pass
Occasion which now smiles; behold alone
The woman, opportune to all attempts,
Her husband (for I view far round) not nigh,
Whose higher intellectual more I shun,
And strength, of courage haughty, and of limb
Heroic built, though of terrestrial mould;
Foe not informidable! exempt from wound,
I not; so much hath hell debased, and pain
Enfeebled me, to what I was in heaven.
She fair, divinely fair, fit love for gods!
Not terrible, though terrour be in love
And beauty, not approach'd by stronger hate,
Hate stronger, under show of love well feign'd;
The way which to her ruin now I tend.

So spake the enemy of mankind, enclosed

In serpent, inmate bad! and toward Eve

Address'd his way: not with indented wave,
Prone on the ground, as since; but on his rear,
Circular base of rising folds, that tower'd
Fold above fold, a surging maze! his head
Crested aloft, and carbuncle his eyes;

d From his own evil.

This passage is pre-eminently beautiful, and of extraordinary originality.

e Fold above fold.

We have the description of such a sort of serpent in Ovid, Met. iii. 32:

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With burnish'd neck of verdant gold, erect
Amidst his circling spires, that on the grass
Floated redundant: pleasing was his shape
And lovely; never since of serpent-kind
Lovelier, not those that in Illyria changed
Hermione and Cadmus, or the god
In Epidaurus; nor to which transform'd
Ammonian Jove or Capitoline was seen;
He with Olympius; this with her who bore
Scipio, the highth of Rome. With tract oblique
At first, as one who sought access, but fear'd
To interrupt, sidelong he works his way.
As when a ship, by skilful steersman wrought
Nigh river's mouth or foreland, where the wind
Veers oft, as oft so steers, and shifts her sail:
So varied he, and of his tortuous train
Curl'd many a wanton wreath in sight of Eve,
To lure her eye; she, busied, heard the sound
Of rustling leaves, but minded not, as used
To such disport before her through the field,
From every beast; more duteous at her call,
Than at Circean call the herd disguised.
He, bolder now, uncall'd before her stood,
But as in gaze admiring: oft he bow'd
His turret crest, and sleek enamel'd neck,
Fawning; and lick'd the ground whereon she trod.
His gentle dumb expression turn'd at length

The eye of Eve, to mark his play; he, glad

Of her attention gain'd, with serpent-tongue
Organic, or impulse of vocal air,s
His fraudulent temptation thus began:

Wonder not, sovran mistress, if perhaps
Thou canst, who art sole wonder! much less arm
Thy looks, the heaven of mildness, with disdain,
Displeased that I approach thee thus, and gaze
Insatiate; I thus single; nor have fear'd
Thy awful brow, more awful thus retired.
Fairest resemblance of thy Maker fair,
Thee all things living gaze on, all things thine
By gift, and thy celestial beauty adore
With ravishment beheld! there best beheld,
Where universally admired; but here
In this enclosure wild, these beasts among,
Beholders rude, and shallow to discern

! Hermione and Cadmus.

The serpents that changed Hermione and Cadmus into themselves.

Organic, or impulse of vocal air.

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That the devil moved the serpent's tongue and used it as an instrument to form that tempting speech he made to Eve, is the opinion of some; that he formed a voice by impression of the sounding air, distant from the serpent, is that of others; of which Milton has left the curious to their choice.-HUME.