BOOK VIII.

THE ARGUMENT.

Adam inquires concerning celestial Motions, is doubtfully answer’d and exhorted to search rather things more worthy of knowledg: Adam assents, and still desirous to detain Raphael, relates to him what he remember’d since his own Creation, his placing in Paradise, his talk with God concerning solitude and fit society, his first meeting and Nuptials with Eve, his discourse with the Angel thereupon; who after admonitions repeated departs.

  [THE Angel ended, and in Adams Eare
  So Charming left his voice, that he a while
  Thought him still speaking, still stood fixt to hear;
  Then as new wak't thus gratefully repli'd.]
  What thanks sufficient, or what recompence
  Equal have I to render thee, Divine
  Hystorian, who thus largely hast allayd
  The thirst I had of knowledge, and voutsaf't
  This friendly condescention to relate
  Things else by me unsearchable, now heard                            10
  With wonder, but delight, and, as is due,
  With glorie attributed to the high
  Creator; some thing yet of doubt remaines,
  Which onely thy solution can resolve.
  When I behold this goodly Frame, this World
  Of Heav'n and Earth consisting, and compute,
  Thir magnitudes, this Earth a spot, a graine,
  An Atom, with the Firmament compar'd
  And all her numberd Starrs, that seem to rowle
  Spaces incomprehensible (for such                                    20
  Thir distance argues and thir swift return
  Diurnal) meerly to officiate light
  Round this opacous Earth, this punctual spot,
  One day and night; in all thir vast survey
  Useless besides, reasoning I oft admire,
  How Nature wise and frugal could commit
  Such disproportions, with superfluous hand
  So many nobler Bodies to create,
  Greater so manifold to this one use,
  For aught appeers, and on thir Orbs impose                           30
  Such restless revolution day by day
  Repeated, while the sedentarie Earth,
  That better might with farr less compass move,
  Serv'd by more noble then her self, attaines
  Her end without least motion, and receaves,
  As Tribute such a sumless journey brought
  Of incorporeal speed, her warmth and light;
  Speed, to describe whose swiftness Number failes.
  So spake our Sire, and by his count'nance seemd
  Entring on studious thoughts abstruse, which Eve                     40
  Perceaving where she sat retir'd in sight,
  With lowliness Majestic from her seat,
  And Grace that won who saw to wish her stay,
  Rose, and went forth among her Fruits and Flours,
  To visit how they prosper'd, bud and bloom,
  Her Nurserie; they at her coming sprung
  And toucht by her fair tendance gladlier grew.
  Yet went she not, as not with such discourse
  Delighted, or not capable her eare
  Of what was high: such pleasure she reserv'd,                        50
  Adam relating, she sole Auditress;
  Her Husband the Relater she preferr'd
  Before the Angel, and of him to ask
  Chose rather; hee, she knew would intermix
  Grateful digressions, and solve high dispute
  With conjugal Caresses, from his Lip
  Not Words alone pleas'd her. O when meet now
  Such pairs, in Love and mutual Honour joyn'd?
  With Goddess-like demeanour forth she went;
  Not unattended, for on her as Queen                                  60
  A pomp of winning Graces waited still,
  And from about her shot Darts of desire
  Into all Eyes to wish her still in sight.
  And Raphael now to Adam's doubt propos'd
  Benevolent and facil thus repli'd.
  To ask or search I blame thee not, for Heav'n
  Is as the Book of God before thee set,
  Wherein to read his wondrous Works, and learne
  His Seasons, Hours, or Days, or Months, or Yeares:
  This to attain, whether Heav'n move or Earth,                        70
  Imports not, if thou reck'n right, the rest
  From Man or Angel the great Architect
  Did wisely to conceal, and not divulge
  His secrets to be scann'd by them who ought
  Rather admire; or if they list to try
  Conjecture, he his Fabric of the Heav'ns
  Hath left to thir disputes, perhaps to move
  His laughter at thir quaint Opinions wide
  Hereafter, when they come to model Heav'n
  And calculate the Starrs, how they will weild                        80
  The mightie frame, how build, unbuild, contrive
  To save appeerances, how gird the Sphear
  With Centric and Eccentric scribl'd o're,
  Cycle and Epicycle, Orb in Orb:
  Alreadie by thy reasoning this I guess,
  Who art to lead thy ofspring, and supposest
  That Bodies bright and greater should not serve
  The less not bright, nor Heav'n such journies run,
  Earth sitting still, when she alone receaves
  The benefit: consider first, that Great                              90
  Or Bright inferrs not Excellence: the Earth
  Though, in comparison of Heav'n, so small,
  Nor glistering, may of solid good containe
  More plenty then the Sun that barren shines,
  Whose vertue on it self workes no effect,
  But in the fruitful Earth; there first receavd
  His beams, unactive else, thir vigor find.
  Yet not to Earth are those bright Luminaries
  Officious, but to thee Earths habitant.
  And for the Heav'ns wide Circuit, let it speak                      100
  The Makers high magnificence, who built
  So spacious, and his Line stretcht out so farr;
  That Man may know he dwells not in his own;
  An Edifice too large for him to fill,
  Lodg'd in a small partition, and the rest
  Ordain'd for uses to his Lord best known.
  The swiftness of those Circles attribute,
  Though numberless, to his Omnipotence,
  That to corporeal substances could adde
  Speed almost Spiritual; mee thou thinkst not slow,                  110
  Who since the Morning hour set out from Heav'n
  Where God resides, and ere mid-day arriv'd
  In Eden, distance inexpressible
  By Numbers that have name. But this I urge,
  Admitting Motion in the Heav'ns, to shew
  Invalid that which thee to doubt it mov'd;
  Not that I so affirm, though so it seem
  To thee who hast thy dwelling here on Earth.
  God to remove his wayes from human sense,
  Plac'd Heav'n from Earth so farr, that earthly sight,               120
  If it presume, might erre in things too high,
  And no advantage gaine. What if the Sun
  Be Center to the World, and other Starrs
  By his attractive vertue and thir own
  Incited, dance about him various rounds?
  Thir wandring course now high, now low, then hid,
  Progressive, retrograde, or standing still,
  In six thou seest, and what if sev'nth to these
  The Planet Earth, so stedfast though she seem,
  Insensibly three different Motions move?                            130
  Which else to several Sphears thou must ascribe,
  Mov'd contrarie with thwart obliquities,
  Or save the Sun his labour, and that swift
  Nocturnal and Diurnal rhomb suppos'd,
  Invisible else above all Starrs, the Wheele
  Of Day and Night; which needs not thy beleefe,
  If Earth industrious of her self fetch Day
  Travelling East, and with her part averse
  From the Suns beam meet Night, her other part
  Still luminous by his ray. What if that light                       140
  Sent from her through the wide transpicuous aire,
  To the terrestrial Moon be as a Starr
  Enlightning her by Day, as she by Night
  This Earth? reciprocal, if Land be there,
  Feilds and Inhabitants: Her spots thou seest
  As Clouds, and Clouds may rain, and Rain produce
  Fruits in her soft'nd Soile, for some to eate
  Allotted there; and other Suns perhaps
  With thir attendant Moons thou wilt descrie
  Communicating Male and Femal Light,                                 150
  Which two great Sexes animate the World,
  Stor'd in each Orb perhaps with some that live.
  For such vast room in Nature unpossest
  By living Soule, desert and desolate,
  Onely to shine, yet scarce to contribute
  Each Orb a glimps of Light, conveyd so farr
  Down to this habitable, which returnes
  Light back to them, is obvious to dispute.
  But whether thus these things, or whether not,
  Whether the Sun predominant in Heav'n                               160
  Rise on the Earth, or Earth rise on the Sun,
  Hee from the East his flaming rode begin,
  Or Shee from West her silent course advance
  With inoffensive pace that spinning sleeps
  On her soft Axle, while she paces Eev'n,
  And bears thee soft with the smooth Air along,
  Sollicit not thy thoughts with matters hid,
  Leave them to God above, him serve and feare;
  Of other Creatures, as him pleases best,
  Wherever plac't, let him dispose: joy thou                          170
  In what he gives to thee, this Paradise
  And thy faire Eve; Heav'n is for thee too high
  To know what passes there; be lowlie wise:
  Think onely what concernes thee and thy being;
  Dream not of other Worlds, what Creatures there
  Live, in what state, condition or degree,
  Contented that thus farr hath been reveal'd
  Not of Earth onely but of highest Heav'n.
  To whom thus Adam cleerd of doubt, repli'd.
  How fully hast thou satisfi'd mee, pure                             180
  Intelligence of Heav'n, Angel serene,
  And freed from intricacies, taught to live,
  The easiest way, nor with perplexing thoughts
  To interrupt the sweet of Life, from which
  God hath bid dwell farr off all anxious cares,
  And not molest us, unless we our selves
  Seek them with wandring thoughts, and notions vaine.
  But apt the Mind or Fancie is to roave
  Uncheckt, and of her roaving is no end;
  Till warn'd, or by experience taught, she learne,                   190
  That not to know at large of things remote
  From use, obscure and suttle, but to know
  That which before us lies in daily life,
  Is the prime Wisdom, what is more, is fume,
  Or emptiness, or fond impertinence,
  And renders us in things that most concerne
  Unpractis'd, unprepar'd, and still to seek.
  Therefore from this high pitch let us descend
  A lower flight, and speak of things at hand
  Useful, whence haply mention may arise                              200
  Of somthing not unseasonable to ask
  By sufferance, and thy wonted favour deign'd.
  Thee I have heard relating what was don
  Ere my remembrance: now hear mee relate
  My Storie, which perhaps thou hast not heard;
  And Day is yet not spent; till then thou seest
  How suttly to detaine thee I devise,
  Inviting thee to hear while I relate,
  Fond, were it not in hope of thy reply:
  For while I sit with thee, I seem in Heav'n,                        210
  And sweeter thy discourse is to my eare
  Then Fruits of Palm-tree pleasantest to thirst
  And hunger both, from labour, at the houre
  Of sweet repast; they satiate, and soon fill,
  Though pleasant, but thy words with Grace Divine
  Imbu'd, bring to thir sweetness no satietie.
  To whom thus Raphael answer'd heav'nly meek.
  Nor are thy lips ungraceful, Sire of men,
  Nor tongue ineloquent; for God on thee
  Abundantly his gifts hath also pour'd,                              220
  Inward and outward both, his image faire:
  Speaking or mute all comliness and grace
  Attends thee, and each word, each motion formes.
  Nor less think wee in Heav'n of thee on Earth
  Then of our fellow servant, and inquire
  Gladly into the wayes of God with Man:
  For God we see hath honour'd thee, and set
  On Man his equal Love: say therefore on;
  For I that Day was absent, as befell,
  Bound on a voyage uncouth and obscure,                              230
  Farr on excursion toward the Gates of Hell;
  Squar'd in full Legion (such command we had)
  To see that none thence issu'd forth a spie,
  Or enemie, while God was in his work,
  Least hee incenst at such eruption bold,
  Destruction with Creation might have mixt.
  Not that they durst without his leave attempt,
  But us he sends upon his high behests
  For state, as Sovran King, and to enure
  Our prompt obedience. Fast we found, fast shut                      240
  The dismal Gates, and barricado'd strong;
  But long ere our approaching heard within
  Noise, other then the sound of Dance or Song,
  Torment, and lowd lament, and furious rage.
  Glad we return'd up to the coasts of Light
  Ere Sabbath Eev'ning: so we had in charge.
  But thy relation now; for I attend,
  Pleas'd with thy words no less then thou with mine.
  So spake the Godlike Power, and thus our Sire.
  For Man to tell how human Life began                                250
  Is hard; for who himself beginning knew?
  Desire with thee still longer to converse
  Induc'd me. As new wak't from soundest sleep
  Soft on the flourie herb I found me laid
  In Balmie Sweat, which with his Beames the Sun
  Soon dri'd, and on the reaking moisture fed.
  Strait toward Heav'n my wondring Eyes I turnd,
  And gaz'd a while the ample Skie, till rais'd
  By quick instinctive motion up I sprung,
  As thitherward endevoring, and upright                              260
  Stood on my feet; about me round I saw
  Hill, Dale, and shadie Woods, and sunnie Plaines,
  And liquid Lapse of murmuring Streams; by these,
  Creatures that livd, and movd, and walk'd, or flew,
  Birds on the branches warbling; all things smil'd,
  With fragrance and with joy my heart oreflow'd.
  My self I then perus'd, and Limb by Limb
  Survey'd, and sometimes went, and sometimes ran
  With supple joints, as lively vigour led:
  But who I was, or where, or from what cause,                        270
  Knew not; to speak I tri'd, and forthwith spake,
  My Tongue obey'd and readily could name
  What e're I saw. Thou Sun, said I, faire Light,
  And thou enlight'nd Earth, so fresh and gay,
  Ye Hills and Dales, ye Rivers, Woods, and Plaines,
  And ye that live and move, fair Creatures, tell,
  Tell, if ye saw, how came I thus, how here?
  Not of my self; by some great Maker then,
  In goodness and in power praeeminent;
  Tell me, how may I know him, how adore,                             280
  From whom I have that thus I move and live,
  And feel that I am happier then I know.
  While thus I call'd, and stray'd I knew not whither,
  From where I first drew Aire, and first beheld
  This happie Light, when answer none return'd,
  On a green shadie Bank profuse of Flours
  Pensive I sate me down; there gentle sleep
  First found me, and with soft oppression seis'd
  My droused sense, untroubl'd, though I thought
  I then was passing to my former state                               290
  Insensible, and forthwith to dissolve:
  When suddenly stood at my Head a dream,
  Whose inward apparition gently mov'd
  My Fancy to believe I yet had being,
  And livd: One came, methought, of shape Divine,
  And said, thy Mansion wants thee, Adam, rise,
  First Man, of Men innumerable ordain'd
  First Father, call'd by thee I come thy Guide
  To the Garden of bliss, thy seat prepar'd.
  So saying, by the hand he took me rais'd,                           300
  And over Fields and Waters, as in Aire
  Smooth sliding without step, last led me up
  A woodie Mountain; whose high top was plaine,
  A Circuit wide, enclos'd, with goodliest Trees
  Planted, with Walks, and Bowers, that what I saw
  Of Earth before scarse pleasant seemd. Each Tree
  Load'n with fairest Fruit, that hung to the Eye
  Tempting, stirr'd in me sudden appetite
  To pluck and eate; whereat I wak'd, and found
  Before mine Eyes all real, as the dream                             310
  Had lively shadowd: Here had new begun
  My wandring, had not hee who was my Guide
  Up hither, from among the Trees appeer'd,
  Presence Divine. Rejoycing, but with aw
  In adoration at his feet I fell
  Submiss: he rear'd me, & Whom thou soughtst I am,
  Said mildely, Author of all this thou seest
  Above, or round about thee or beneath.
  This Paradise I give thee, count it thine
  To Till and keep, and of the Fruit to eate:                         320
  Of every Tree that in the Garden growes
  Eate freely with glad heart; fear here no dearth:
  But of the Tree whose operation brings
  Knowledg of good and ill, which I have set
  The Pledge of thy Obedience and thy Faith,
  Amid the Garden by the Tree of Life,
  Remember what I warne thee, shun to taste,
  And shun the bitter consequence: for know,
  The day thou eat'st thereof, my sole command
  Transgrest, inevitably thou shalt dye;                              330
  From that day mortal, and this happie State
  Shalt loose, expell'd from hence into a World
  Of woe and sorrow. Sternly he pronounc'd
  The rigid interdiction, which resounds
  Yet dreadful in mine eare, though in my choice
  Not to incur; but soon his cleer aspect
  Return'd and gratious purpose thus renew'd.
  Not onely these fair bounds, but all the Earth
  To thee and to thy Race I give; as Lords
  Possess it, and all things that therein live,                       340
  Or live in Sea, or Aire, Beast, Fish, and Fowle.
  In signe whereof each Bird and Beast behold
  After thir kindes; I bring them to receave
  From thee thir Names, and pay thee fealtie
  With low subjection; understand the same
  Of Fish within thir watry residence,
  Not hither summond, since they cannot change
  Thir Element to draw the thinner Aire.
  As thus he spake, each Bird and Beast behold
  Approaching two and two, These cowring low                          350
  With blandishment, each Bird stoop'd on his wing.
  I nam'd them, as they pass'd, and understood
  Thir Nature, with such knowledg God endu'd
  My sudden apprehension: but in these
  I found not what me thought I wanted still;
  And to the Heav'nly vision thus presum'd.
  O by what Name, for thou above all these,
  Above mankinde, or aught then mankinde higher,
  Surpassest farr my naming, how may I
  Adore thee, Author of this Universe,                                360
  And all this good to man, for whose well being
  So amply, and with hands so liberal
  Thou hast provided all things: but with mee
  I see not who partakes. In solitude
  What happiness, who can enjoy alone,
  Or all enjoying, what contentment find?
  Thus I presumptuous; and the vision bright,
  As with a smile more bright'nd, thus repli'd.
  What call'st thou solitude, is not the Earth
  With various living creatures, and the Aire                         370
  Replenisht, and all these at thy command
  To come and play before thee, know'st thou not
  Thir language and thir wayes, they also know,
  And reason not contemptibly; with these
  Find pastime, and beare rule; thy Realm is large.
  So spake the Universal Lord, and seem'd
  So ordering. I with leave of speech implor'd,
  And humble deprecation thus repli'd.
  Let not my words offend thee, Heav'nly Power,
  My Maker, be propitious while I speak.                              380
  Hast thou not made me here thy substitute,
  And these inferiour farr beneath me set?
  Among unequals what societie
  Can sort, what harmonie or true delight?
  Which must be mutual, in proportion due
  Giv'n and receiv'd; but in disparitie
  The one intense, the other still remiss
  Cannot well suite with either, but soon prove
  Tedious alike: Of fellowship I speak
  Such as I seek, fit to participate                                  390
  All rational delight, wherein the brute
  Cannot be human consort; they rejoyce
  Each with thir kinde, Lion with Lioness;
  So fitly them in pairs thou hast combin'd;
  Much less can Bird with Beast, or Fish with Fowle
  So well converse, nor with the Ox the Ape;
  Wors then can Man with Beast, and least of all.
  Whereto th' Almighty answer'd, not displeas'd.
  A nice and suttle happiness I see
  Thou to thy self proposest, in the choice                           400
  Of thy Associates, Adam, and wilt taste
  No pleasure, though in pleasure, solitarie.
  What thinkst thou then of mee, and this my State,
  Seem I to thee sufficiently possest
  Of happiness, or not? who am alone
  From all Eternitie, for none I know
  Second to mee or like, equal much less.
  How have I then with whom to hold converse
  Save with the Creatures which I made, and those
  To me inferiour, infinite descents                                  410
  Beneath what other Creatures are to thee?
  He ceas'd, I lowly answer'd. To attaine
  The highth and depth of thy Eternal wayes
  All human thoughts come short, Supream of things;
  Thou in thy self art perfet, and in thee
  Is no deficience found; not so is Man,
  But in degree, the cause of his desire
  By conversation with his like to help,
  Or solace his defects. No need that thou
  Shouldst propagat, already infinite;                                420
  And through all numbers absolute, though One;
  But Man by number is to manifest
  His single imperfection, and beget
  Like of his like, his Image multipli'd,
  In unitie defective, which requires
  Collateral love, and deerest amitie.
  Thou in thy secresie although alone,
  Best with thy self accompanied, seek'st not
  Social communication, yet so pleas'd,
  Canst raise thy Creature to what highth thou wilt                   430
  Of Union or Communion, deifi'd;
  I by conversing cannot these erect
  From prone, nor in thir wayes complacence find.
  Thus I embold'nd spake, and freedom us'd
  Permissive, and acceptance found, which gain'd
  This answer from the gratious voice Divine.
  Thus farr to try thee, Adam, I was pleas'd,
  And finde thee knowing not of Beasts alone,
  Which thou hast rightly nam'd, but of thy self,
  Expressing well the spirit within thee free,                        440
  My Image, not imparted to the Brute,
  Whose fellowship therefore unmeet for thee
  Good reason was thou freely shouldst dislike,
  And be so minded still; I, ere thou spak'st,
  Knew it not good for Man to be alone,
  And no such companie as then thou saw'st
  Intended thee, for trial onely brought,
  To see how thou could'st judge of fit and meet:
  What next I bring shall please thee, be assur'd,
  Thy likeness, thy fit help, thy other self,                         450
  Thy wish, exactly to thy hearts desire.
  Hee ended, or I heard no more, for now
  My earthly by his Heav'nly overpowerd,
  Which it had long stood under, streind to the highth
  In that celestial Colloquie sublime,
  As with an object that excels the sense,
  Dazl'd and spent, sunk down, and sought repair
  Of sleep, which instantly fell on me, call'd
  By Nature as in aide, and clos'd mine eyes.
  Mine eyes he clos'd, but op'n left the Cell                         460
  Of Fancie my internal sight, by which
  Abstract as in a transe methought I saw,
  Though sleeping, where I lay, and saw the shape
  Still glorious before whom awake I stood;
  Who stooping op'nd my left side, and took
  From thence a Rib, with cordial spirits warme,
  And Life-blood streaming fresh; wide was the wound,
  But suddenly with flesh fill'd up & heal'd:
  The Rib he formd and fashond with his hands;
  Under his forming hands a Creature grew,                            470
  Manlike, but different sex, so lovly faire,
  That what seemd fair in all the World, seemd now
  Mean, or in her summd up, in her containd
  And in her looks, which from that time infus'd
  Sweetness into my heart, unfelt before,
  And into all things from her Aire inspir'd
  The spirit of love and amorous delight.
  She disappeerd, and left me dark, I wak'd
  To find her, or for ever to deplore
  Her loss, and other pleasures all abjure:                           480
  When out of hope, behold her, not farr off,
  Such as I saw her in my dream, adornd
  With what all Earth or Heaven could bestow
  To make her amiable: On she came,
  Led by her Heav'nly Maker, though unseen,
  And guided by his voice, nor uninformd
  Of nuptial Sanctitie and marriage Rites:
  Grace was in all her steps, Heav'n in her Eye,
  In every gesture dignitie and love.
  I overjoyd could not forbear aloud.                                 490
  This turn hath made amends; thou hast fulfill'd
  Thy words, Creator bounteous and benigne,
  Giver of all things faire, but fairest this
  Of all thy gifts, nor enviest. I now see
  Bone of my Bone, Flesh of my Flesh, my Self
  Before me; Woman is her Name, of Man
  Extracted; for this cause he shall forgoe
  Father and Mother, and to his Wife adhere;
  And they shall be one Flesh, one Heart, one Soule.
  She heard me thus, and though divinely brought,                     500
  Yet Innocence and Virgin Modestie,
  Her vertue and the conscience of her worth,
  That would be woo'd, and not unsought be won,
  Not obvious, not obtrusive, but retir'd,
  The more desirable, or to say all,
  Nature her self, though pure of sinful thought,
  Wrought in her so, that seeing me, she turn'd;
  I follow'd her, she what was Honour knew,
  And with obsequious Majestie approv'd
  My pleaded reason. To the Nuptial Bowre                             510
  I led her blushing like the Morn: all Heav'n,
  And happie Constellations on that houre
  Shed thir selectest influence; the Earth
  Gave sign of gratulation, and each Hill;
  Joyous the Birds; fresh Gales and gentle Aires
  Whisper'd it to the Woods, and from thir wings
  Flung Rose, flung Odours from the spicie Shrub,
  Disporting, till the amorous Bird of Night
  Sung Spousal, and bid haste the Eevning Starr
  On his Hill top, to light the bridal Lamp.                          520
  Thus I have told thee all my State, and brought
  My Storie to the sum of earthly bliss
  Which I enjoy, and must confess to find
  In all things else delight indeed, but such
  As us'd or not, works in the mind no change,
  Nor vehement desire, these delicacies
  I mean of Taste, Sight, Smell, Herbs, Fruits, & Flours,
  Walks, and the melodie of Birds; but here
  Farr otherwise, transported I behold,
  Transported touch; here passion first I felt,                       530
  Commotion strange, in all enjoyments else
  Superiour and unmov'd, here onely weake
  Against the charm of Beauties powerful glance.
  Or Nature faild in mee, and left some part
  Not proof enough such Object to sustain,
  Or from my side subducting, took perhaps
  More then enough; at least on her bestow'd
  Too much of Ornament, in outward shew
  Elaborate, of inward less exact.
  For well I understand in the prime end                              540
  Of Nature her th' inferiour, in the mind
  And inward Faculties, which most excell,
  In outward also her resembling less
  His Image who made both, and less expressing
  The character of that Dominion giv'n
  O're other Creatures; yet when I approach
  Her loveliness, so absolute she seems
  And in her self compleat, so well to know
  Her own, that what she wills to do or say,
  Seems wisest, vertuousest, discreetest, best;                       550
  All higher knowledge in her presence falls
  Degraded, Wisdom in discourse with her
  Looses discount'nanc't, and like folly shewes;
  Authoritie and Reason on her waite,
  As one intended first, not after made
  Occasionally; and to consummate all,
  Greatness of mind and nobleness thir seat
  Build in her loveliest, and create an awe
  About her, as a guard Angelic plac't.
  To whom the Angel with contracted brow.                             560
  Accuse not Nature, she hath don her part;
  Do thou but thine, and be not diffident
  Of Wisdom, she deserts thee not, if thou
  Dismiss not her, when most thou needst her nigh,
  By attributing overmuch to things
  Less excellent, as thou thy self perceav'st.
  For what admir'st thou, what transports thee so,
  An outside? fair no doubt, and worthy well
  Thy cherishing, thy honouring, and thy love,
  Not thy subjection: weigh with her thy self;                        570
  Then value: Oft times nothing profits more
  Then self-esteem, grounded on just and right
  Well manag'd; of that skill the more thou know'st,
  The more she will acknowledge thee her Head,
  And to realities yeild all her shows;
  Made so adorn for thy delight the more,
  So awful, that with honour thou maist love
  Thy mate, who sees when thou art seen least wise.
  But if the sense of touch whereby mankind
  Is propagated seem such dear delight                                580
  Beyond all other, think the same voutsaf't
  To Cattel and each Beast; which would not be
  To them made common & divulg'd, if aught
  Therein enjoy'd were worthy to subdue
  The Soule of Man, or passion in him move.
  What higher in her societie thou findst
  Attractive, human, rational, love still;
  In loving thou dost well, in passion not,
  Wherein true Love consists not; love refines
  The thoughts, and heart enlarges, hath his seat                     590
  In Reason, and is judicious, is the scale
  By which to heav'nly Love thou maist ascend,
  Not sunk in carnal pleasure, for which cause
  Among the Beasts no Mate for thee was found.
  To whom thus half abash't Adam repli'd.
  Neither her out-side formd so fair, nor aught
  In procreation common to all kindes
  (Though higher of the genial Bed by far,
  And with mysterious reverence I deem)
  So much delights me, as those graceful acts,                        600
  Those thousand decencies that daily flow
  From all her words and actions, mixt with Love
  And sweet compliance, which declare unfeign'd
  Union of Mind, or in us both one Soule;
  Harmonie to behold in wedded pair
  More grateful then harmonious sound to the eare.
  Yet these subject not; I to thee disclose
  What inward thence I feel, not therefore foild,
  Who meet with various objects, from the sense
  Variously representing; yet still free                              610
  Approve the best, and follow what I approve.
  To love thou blam'st me not, for love thou saist
  Leads up to Heav'n, is both the way and guide;
  Bear with me then, if lawful what I ask;
  Love not the heav'nly Spirits, and how thir Love
  Express they, by looks onely, or do they mix
  Irradiance, virtual or immediate touch?
  To whom the Angel with a smile that glow'd
  Celestial rosie red, Loves proper hue,
  Answer'd. Let it suffice thee that thou know'st                     620
  Us happie, and without Love no happiness.
  Whatever pure thou in the body enjoy'st
  (And pure thou wert created) we enjoy
  In eminence, and obstacle find none
  Of membrane, joynt, or limb, exclusive barrs:
  Easier then Air with Air, if Spirits embrace,
  Total they mix, Union of Pure with Pure
  Desiring; nor restrain'd conveyance need
  As Flesh to mix with Flesh, or Soul with Soul.
  But I can now no more; the parting Sun                              630
  Beyond the Earths green Cape and verdant Isles
  Hesperean sets, my Signal to depart.
  Be strong, live happie, and love, but first of all
  Him whom to love is to obey, and keep
  His great command; take heed least Passion sway
  Thy Judgement to do aught, which else free Will
  Would not admit; thine and of all thy Sons
  The weal or woe in thee is plac't; beware.
  I in thy persevering shall rejoyce,
  And all the Blest: stand fast; to stand or fall                     640
  Free in thine own Arbitrement it lies.
  Perfet within, no outward aid require;
  And all temptation to transgress repel.
  So saying, he arose; whom Adam thus
  Follow'd with benediction. Since to part,
  Go heavenly Guest, Ethereal Messenger,
  Sent from whose sovran goodness I adore.
  Gentle to me and affable hath been
  Thy condescension, and shall be honour'd ever
  With grateful Memorie: thou to mankind                              650
  Be good and friendly still, and oft return.
  So parted they, the Angel up to Heav'n
  From the thick shade, and Adam to his Bowre.

  The End Of The Eighth Book.