Chapter 11

ADAM, _as newly created, laid on a bed of moss and flowers, by a rock._

_Adam._ What am I? or from whence? For that I am [_Rising._ I know, because I think; but whence I came, Or how this frame of mine began to be, What other being can disclose to me? I move, I see, I speak, discourse, and know; Though now I am, I was not always so. Then that, from which I was, must be before, Whom, as my spring of being, I adore. How full of ornament is all I view, In all its parts! and seems as beautiful as new: O goodly-ordered work! O Power Divine, Of thee I am, and what I am is thine!

RAPHAEL _descends to_ ADAM, _in a cloud._

_Raphael._ First of mankind, made o'er the world to reign, Whose fruitful loins an unborn kind contain, Well hast thou reasoned: Of himself is none But that Eternal Infinite and One, Who never did begin, who ne'er can end; On Him all beings, as their source, depend. We first, who of his image most partake, Whom he all spirit, immortal, pure, did make; Man next; whose race, exalted, must supply The place of those, who, falling, lost the sky.

_Adam._ Bright minister of heaven, sent here below To me, who but begin to think and know; If such could fall from bliss, who knew and saw, By near admission, their creator's law, What hopes have I, from heaven remote so far, To keep those laws, unknowing when I err?

_Raphael._ Right reason's law to every human heart The Eternal, as his image, will impart: This teaches to adore heaven's Majesty; In prayer and praise does all devotion lie: So doing, thou and all thy race are blest.

_Adam._ Of every creeping thing, of bird, and beast, I see the kinds: In pairs distinct they go; The males their loves, their lovers females know: Thou nam'st a race which must proceed from me, Yet my whole species in myself I see: A barren sex, and single, of no use, But full of forms which I can ne'er produce.

_Raphael._ Think not the Power, who made thee thus, can find No way like theirs to propagate thy kind: Meantime, live happy in thyself alone; Like him who, single, fills the etherial throne. To study nature will thy time employ: Knowledge and innocence are perfect joy.

_Adam._ If solitude were best, the All-wise above Had made no creature for himself to love. I add not to the power he had before; Yet to make me, extends his goodness more. He would not be alone, who all things can; But peopled heaven with angels, earth with man.

_Raphael._ As man and angels to the Deity, So all inferior creatures are to thee. Heaven's greatness no society can bear; Servants he made, and those thou want'st not here.

_Adam._ Why did he reason in my soul implant, And speech, the effect of reason? To the mute, My speech is lost; my reason to the brute. Love and society more blessings bring To them, the slaves, than power to me, their king.

_Raphael._ Thus far to try thee; but to heaven 'twas known, It was not best for man to be alone; An equal, yet thy subject, is designed, For thy soft hours, and to unbend thy mind. Thy stronger soul shall her weak reason sway; And thou, through love, her beauty shalt obey; Thou shalt secure her helpless sex from harms, And she thy cares shall sweeten with her charms.

_Adam._ What more can heaven bestow, or man require?

_Raphael._ Yes, he can give beyond thy own desire. A mansion is provided thee, more fair Than this, and worthy heaven's peculiar care: Not framed of common earth, nor fruits, nor flowers Of vulgar growth, but like celestial bowers: The soil luxuriant, and the fruit divine, Where golden apples on green branches shine, And purple grapes dissolve into immortal wine; For noon-day's heat are closer arbours made, And for fresh evening air the opener glade. Ascend; and, as we go, More wonders thou shalt know.

_Adam._ And, as we go, let earth and heaven above Sound our great Maker's power, and greater love. [_They ascend to soft music, and a song is sung._

_The Scene changes, and represents, above, a Sun gloriously rising and moving orbicularly: at a distance, below, is the Moon; the part next the Sun enlightened, the other dark. A black Cloud comes whirling from the adverse part of the Heavens, bearing_ LUCIFER _in it; at his nearer approach the body of the Sun is darkened._

_Lucif._ Am I become so monstrous, so disfigured, That nature cannot suffer my approach, Or look me in the face, but stands aghast; And that fair light which gilds this new-made orb, Shorn of his beams, shrinks in? accurst ambition! And thou, black empire of the nether world, How dearly have I bought you! But, 'tis past; I have already gone too far to stop, And must push on my dire revenge, in ruin Of this gay frame, and man, my upstart rival, In scorn of me created. Down, my pride, And all my swelling thoughts! I must forget Awhile I am a devil, and put on A smooth submissive face; else I in vain Have past through night and chaos, to discover Those envied skies again, which I have lost. But stay; far off I see a chariot driven, Flaming with beams, and in it Uriel, One of the seven, (I know his hated face) Who stands in presence of the eternal throne, And seems the regent of that glorious light.

_From that part of the Heavens where the Sun appears, a Chariot is discovered drawn with white Horses, and in it_ URIEL, _the Regent of the Sun. The Chariot moves swiftly towards_ LUCIFER, _and at_ URIEL'S _approach the Sun recovers his light._

_Uriel._ Spirit, who art thou, and from whence arrived? (For I remember not thy face in heaven) Or by command, or hither led by choice? Or wander'st thou within this lucid orb, And, strayed from those fair fields of light above, Amidst this new creation want'st a guide, To reconduct thy steps?

_Lucifer._ Bright Uriel, Chief of the seven! thou flaming minister, Who guard'st this new-created orb of light, (The world's eye that, and thou the eye of it) Thy favour and high office make thee known: An humble cherub I, and of less note, Yet bold, by thy permission, hither come, On high discoveries bent.

_Uriel._ Speak thy design.

_Lucifer._ Urged by renown of what I heard above, Divulged by angels nearest heaven's high King, Concerning this new world, I came to view (If worthy such a favour) and admire This last effect of our great Maker's power: Thence to my wondering fellows I shall turn, Full fraught with joyful tidings of these works, New matter of his praise, and of our songs.

_Uriel._ Thy business is not what deserves my blame, Nor thou thyself unwelcome; see, fair spirit, Below yon sphere (of matter not unlike it) There hangs the ball of earth and water mixt, Self-centered and unmoved.

_Lucifer._ But where dwells man?

_Uriel._ On yonder mount; thou see'st it fenced with rocks, And round the ascent a theatre of trees, A sylvan scene, which, rising by degrees, Leads up the eye below, nor gluts the sight With one full prospect, but invites by many, To view at last the whole: There his abode, Thither direct thy flight.

_Lucifer._ O blest be thou, Who to my low converse has lent thy ear, And favoured my request! Hail, and farewell. [_Flies downward out of sight._

_Uriel._ Not unobserved thou goest, whoe'er thou art; Whether some spirit on holy purpose bent, Or some fallen angel from below broke loose, Who com'st, with envious eyes and curst intent, To view this world and its created lord: Here will I watch, and, while my orb rolls on, Pursue from hence thy much suspected flight, And, if disguised, pierce through with beams of light. [_The Chariot drives forward out of sight._