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Paradise Lost(Excerpt)
John Milton

Nine times the space that measures day and night

To mortal men, he with his horrid crew,

Lay vanquished, rolling in the fiery gulf,

Confounded though immortal. But his doom

Reserved him to more wrath; for now the thought

Both of lost happiness and lasting pain

Torments him; round he throws his baleful eyes,

That witnessed huge affliction and dismay,

Mixed with obdurate pride and steadfast hate.

At once, as far as angels ken, he views

The dismal situation waste and wild;

A dungeon horrible, on all sides round,

As one great furnace flamed; yet from those flames

No light, but rather darkness visible

Served only to discover sights of woe,

Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace

And rest can never dwell, hope never comes

That comes to all, but torture without end

Still urges, and a fiery deluge, fed

With ever-burning sulphur unconsumed.

Such place Eternal Justice had prepared

For those rebellious; here their prison ordained

In utter darkness, and their portion set,

As far removed from God and light of Heaven

As from the center thrice to th' utmost pole.

O how unlike the place from whence they fell!

There the companions of his fall, o'erwhelmed

With floods and whirlwinds of tempestuous fire,

He soon discerns; and, weltering by his side,

One next himself in power, and next in crime,

Long after know in Palestine, and named

Beelzebub. To whom th' arch-enemy,

And thence in Heaven called Satan, with bold words

Breaking the horrid silence, thus began:

"If thou beest he--but O how fallen! how changed

From him who, in the happy realms of light"

Clothed with transcendent brightness, didst outshine

Myriads, though bright! if he whom mutual league,

United thoughts and counsels, equal hope

And hazard in the glorious enterprise,

Joined with me once, now misery hath joined

In equal ruin; into what pit thou seest

From what height fallen, so much the stronger proved

He with his thunder; and till then who knew

The force of those dire arms? Yet not for those,

Nor what the potent Victor in his rage

Can else inflict, do I repent, or change,

Though changed in outward luster, that fixed mind,

And high disdain from sense of injured merit,

That with the mightiest raised me to contend,

And to the fierce contentions brought along

Innumerable force of spirits armed,

That durst dislike his reign, and, me preferring,

His utmost power with adverse power opposed

In dubious battle on the plains of Heaven,

And shook his throne. What thought the field be lost?

All is not lost: the unconquerable will,

And study of revenge, immortal hate,

And courage never to submit or yield:

And what is else not to be overcome?

That glory never shall his wrath or might

Extort from me. To bow and sue for grace

With suppliant knee, and deify his power

Who, from the terror of this arm, so late

Doubted his empire-- that were low indeed;

That were an ignominy and shame beneath

This downfall; since, by fate, the strength of gods

And this empyreal substance, cannot fail;

Since, through experience of this great event,

In arms not worse, in foresight much advanced,

We may with more successful hope resolve

To wage by force or guile eternal war,

Irreconcilable to our grand Foe,

Who now triumphs, and in th' excess of joy

Sole reigning holds the tyranny of Heaven.

So spake th' Apostate Angel, though in pain,
Vaunting aloud, but rackt with deep despare: