Act ii. sc. 6.

In evil hour her rash hand plucks the fruit; and the act closes with the exulting gratulations of the Deceiver and Vainglory.

In the succeeding interview with Adam, in Act iii., the intoxicated Eve has not begun to taste the consequences of her crime; she comes to persuade her companion to partake her guilt.

"_Eve._ How I rejoice, not only to behold These flowers, these verdant meads with waving trees, But thee, my Adam! 'Tis thou alone in whose blest presence seems This scene more fraught with ever new delight, More bright the fruits, and every fount more clear!

_Adam._ No blossom that adorns this blissful plain Such beauty can unfold to greet mine eyes As those sweet flowers whose charms I gaze upon In the fair garden of thy beauteous face! Be calm, ye plants of earth; nor deem my words False to your loveliness! Ye, with the silvery dews of evening sprinkled, When the sun sends his ardent glance abroad, Make glad the bosom of the grassy earth; But droop ye also with declining day. While the fair living flowers that on the cheek Of my loved Eve are cherished--watered ever By the sweet dews of joy that o'er them flow When to her God she bends in grateful praise-- Warmed into life by the twin radiant suns That light the heaven of her face--there live In grace and bloom perennial, and adorn Their own unrivalled paradise."

Death, in the eyes of Adam, is more welcome than separation from his beloved; as in _Paradise Lost_, he rushes on his fate voluntarily, without partaking in any of those dreams of greatness which had beguiled his frail consort. When the mortal sin is completed by his participation, Volano with his trumpet summons the infernal spirits, who crowd the scene with shouts of exultation expressed in lyrical measures. The Serpent and Vainglory are worshipped for their success. The evil spirits vanish before the voice of the Eternal, who descends with his angels to pronounce sentence upon the guilty pair. The solemn account to which the Judge calls them, their guilty evasion and detection, and the stern malediction on the earth cursed for man's sake, with the punishment denounced on the human offenders and on the serpent, are described in the scriptural language, and with a simplicity which is in itself sublime. No _concetti_ are here allowed to mar the impressive greatness of the scene. An angel remains after the departure of the Almighty, and clothes the shivering pair with the skins of wild beasts, reminding them that the roughness of their new raiment signifies the suffering they are to sustain in the journey of life. Then the stern Archangel Michael, the minister of divine vengeance, appears and commands them to leave paradise, while the cherubic host, who had hitherto hovered round them, forsake their accustomed charge and reascend to heaven. The flaming sword of Michael chases the unhappy fugitives from their lost home, and his lips confirm their own apprehensions:

"_Michael._ These stony fields your naked feet shall press, In place of flowery turf, since fatal sin Forbids you longer to inhabit here. Know me the minister of wrath to those Who have rebelled against their God. For this Wear I the armor of almighty power, Dazzling and terrible. Yes, I am he Who, in the conflict of immortal hosts, Dragged captive from the north the haughty chief Of rebel spirits, and to hell's abyss Hurled them in mighty ruin. Now to the Eternal King it seemeth good That man, rebellious to his sovereign will, I should drive forth from his fair paradise With sword of fire. Hence, angels, and with me Speed back to heaven your flight! Even as like me ye have been wont to joy On earth with Adam--once a demi-god, Now feeble clay. Then, armed with fiery sword, A cherub guardian of this gate of bliss Shall take your place."