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Book 2.
Paradiſe loſt.
Th’ event is fear’d; ſhould we again provoke
Our ſtronger, ſome worſe way his wrath may find
To our deſtruction: if there be in Hell
Fear to be worſe deſtroy’d: what can be worſe
Than to dwell here, driv’n out from bliſs, condemnſd
In this abhorred deep to utter woe;
Where pain of unextinguiſhable fire
Must exerciſe us without hope of end
The Vaſſals of his anger, when the Scourge 90
Inexorably, and the torturing houre
Calls us to Penance? More destroſ’d than thus
We ſhould be quite aboliſht and expire.
What fear we then? what doubt we to incenſe
His utmoſt ire? which to the highth enrag’d,
Will either quite conſume us, and reduce
To nothing this eſſential, happier farr
Than miſerable to have eternal being:
Or if our ſubſtance be indeed Divine,
And cannot ceaſe to be, we are at worſt 100
On this ſide nothing; and by proof we feel
Our power ſufficient to diſturb his Heav’n,
And with perpetual inroads to Allarme,
Though inacceſſible, his fatal Throne:
Which if not Victory is yet Revenge.
He ended frowning, and his look denounc’d
Deſperate revenge, and Battel dangerous
To leſs than Gods. On th’ other ſide up roſe
Belial, in act more graceful and humane;
A fairer perſon loſt not Heav’n; he ſeemed 110
For dignity compos’d and high exploit:
But all was falſe and hollow; though his Tongue
Dropt Manna, and could make the worſe appear
Our ſtronger, ſome worſe way his wrath may find
To our deſtruction: if there be in Hell
Fear to be worſe deſtroy’d: what can be worſe
Than to dwell here, driv’n out from bliſs, condemnſd
In this abhorred deep to utter woe;
Where pain of unextinguiſhable fire
Must exerciſe us without hope of end
The Vaſſals of his anger, when the Scourge 90
Inexorably, and the torturing houre
Calls us to Penance? More destroſ’d than thus
We ſhould be quite aboliſht and expire.
What fear we then? what doubt we to incenſe
His utmoſt ire? which to the highth enrag’d,
Will either quite conſume us, and reduce
To nothing this eſſential, happier farr
Than miſerable to have eternal being:
Or if our ſubſtance be indeed Divine,
And cannot ceaſe to be, we are at worſt 100
On this ſide nothing; and by proof we feel
Our power ſufficient to diſturb his Heav’n,
And with perpetual inroads to Allarme,
Though inacceſſible, his fatal Throne:
Which if not Victory is yet Revenge.
He ended frowning, and his look denounc’d
Deſperate revenge, and Battel dangerous
To leſs than Gods. On th’ other ſide up roſe
Belial, in act more graceful and humane;
A fairer perſon loſt not Heav’n; he ſeemed 110
For dignity compos’d and high exploit:
But all was falſe and hollow; though his Tongue
Dropt Manna, and could make the worſe appear
The
