Paradise Lost - Milton John (читать книги полностью TXT) 📗

But might as ill have happ'nd thou being by,

Or to thy self perhaps: hadst thou bin there,

Or bere th' attempt, thou couldst not have discernd

Fraud in the Serpent, speaking as he spake;

No ground of enmitie between us known,

Why hee should mean me ill, or seek to harme.

Was I to have never parted from thy side?

As good have grown there still a liveless Rib.

Being as I am, why didst not thou the Head

Command me absolutely not to go,

Going into such danger as thou saidst?

Too facil then thou didst not much gainsay,

Nay, didst permit, approve, and fair dismiss.

Hadst thou bin firm and fixt in thy dissent,

Neither had I transgress'd, nor thou with mee.

To whom then first incenst ADAM repli'd.

Is this the Love, is the recompence

Of mine to thee, ingrateful EVE, exprest

Immutable when thou wert lost, not I,

Who might have liv'd and joyd immortal bliss,

Yet willingly chose rather Death with thee:

And am I now upbraided, as the cause

Of thy transgressing? not enough severe,

It seems, in thy restraint: what could I more?

I warn'd thee, I admonish'd thee, foretold

The danger, and the lurking Enemie

That lay in wait; beyond this had bin force,

And force upon free Will hath here no place.

But confidence then bore thee on, secure

Either to meet no danger, or to finde

Matter of glorious trial; and perhaps

I also err'd in overmuch admiring

What seemd in thee so perfet, that I thought

No evil durst attempt thee, but I rue

That errour now, which is become my crime,

And thou th' accuser. Thus it shall befall

Him who to worth in Women overtrusting

Lets her Will rule; restraint she will not brook,

And left to her self, if evil thence ensue,

Shee first his weak indulgence will accuse.

Thus they in mutual accusation spent

The fruitless hours, but neither self-condemning

And of thir vain contest appeer'd no end.

BOOK IX.

Meanwhile the hainous and despightfull act

Of SATAN done in Paradise, and how

Hee in the Serpent had perverted EVE,

Her Husband shee, to taste the fatall fruit,

Was known in Heav'n; for what can scape the Eye

Of God All-seeing, or deceave his Heart

Omniscient, who in all things wise and just,

Hinder'd not SATAN to attempt the minde

Of Man, with strength entire, and free Will arm'd,

Complete to have discover'd and repulst

Whatever wiles of Foe or seeming Friend.

For still they knew, and ought to have still remember'd

The high Injunction not to taste that Fruit,

Whoever tempted; which they not obeying,

Incurr'd, what could they less, the penaltie,

And manifold in sin, deserv'd to fall.

Up into Heav'n from Paradise in hast

Th' Angelic Guards ascended, mute and sad

For Man, for of his state by this they knew,

Much wondring how the suttle Fiend had stoln

Entrance unseen. Soon as th' unwelcome news

From Earth arriv'd at Heaven Gate, displeas'd

All were who heard, dim sadness did not spare

That time Celestial visages, yet mixt

With pitie, violated not thir bliss.

About the new-arriv'd, in multitudes

Th' ethereal People ran, to hear and know

How all befell: they towards the Throne Supream

Accountable made haste to make appear

With righteous plea, thir utmost vigilance,

And easily approv'd; when the most High

Eternal Father from his secret Cloud,

Amidst in Thunder utter'd thus his voice.

Assembl'd Angels, and ye Powers return'd

From unsuccessful charge, be not dismaid,

Nor troubl'd at these tidings from the Earth,

Which your sincerest care could not prevent,

Foretold so lately what would come to pass,

When first this Tempter cross'd the Gulf from Hell.

I told ye then he should prevail and speed

On his bad Errand, Man should be seduc't

And flatter'd out of all, believing lies

Against his Maker; no Decree of mine

Concurring to necessitate his Fall,

Or touch with lightest moment of impulse

His free Will, to her own inclining left

In eevn scale. But fall'n he is, and now

What rests, but that the mortal Sentence pass

On his transgression, Death denounc't that day,

Which he presumes already vain and void,

Because not yet inflicted, as he fear'd,

By some immediate stroak; but soon shall find

Forbearance no acquittance ere day end.

Justice shall not return as bountie scorn'd.

But whom send I to judge them? whom but thee

Vicegerent Son, to thee I have transferr'd

All Judgement, whether in Heav'n, or Earth; or Hell.

Easie it may be seen that I intend

Mercie collegue with Justice, sending thee

Mans Friend, his Mediator, his design'd

Both Ransom and Redeemer voluntarie,

And destin'd Man himself to judge Man fall'n.

So spake the Father, and unfoulding bright

Toward the right hand his Glorie, on the Son

Blaz'd forth unclouded Deitie; he full

Resplendent all his Father manifest

Express'd, and thus divinely answer'd milde.

Father Eternal, thine is to decree,

Mine both in Heav'n and Earth to do thy will

Supream, that thou in mee thy Son belov'd

Mayst ever rest well pleas'd. I go to judge

On Earth these thy transgressors, but thou knowst,

Whoever judg'd, the worst on mee must light,

When time shall be, for so I undertook

Before thee; and not repenting, this obtaine

Of right, that I may mitigate thir doom

On me deriv'd, yet I shall temper so

Justice with Mercie, as may illustrate most

Them fully satisfied, and thee appease.

Attendance none shall need, nor Train, where none

Are to behold the Judgement, but the judg'd,

Those two; the third best absent is condemn'd,

Convict by flight, and Rebel to all Law

Conviction to the Serpent none belongs.

Thus saying, from his radiant Seat he rose

Of high collateral glorie: him Thrones and Powers,

Princedoms, and Dominations ministrant

Accompanied to Heaven Gate, from whence

EDEN and all the Coast in prospect lay.

Down he descended strait; the speed of Gods

Time counts not, though with swiftest minutes wing'd.

Now was the Sun in Western cadence low

From Noon, and gentle Aires due at thir hour

To fan the Earth now wak'd, and usher in

The Eevning coole when he from wrauth more coole

Came the mild Judge and Intercessor both

To sentence Man: the voice of God they heard

Now walking in the Garden, by soft windes

Brought to thir Ears, while day declin'd, they heard

And from his presence hid themselves among

The thickest Trees, both Man and Wife, till God

Approaching, thus to ADAM call'd aloud.

Where art thou ADAM, wont with joy to meet

My coming seen far off? I miss thee here,

Not pleas'd, thus entertaind with solitude,

Where obvious dutie erewhile appear'd unsaught:

Or come I less conspicuous, or what change

Absents thee, or what chance detains? Come forth.

He came, and with him EVE, more loth, though first

To offend, discount'nanc't both, and discompos'd;

Love was not in thir looks, either to God

Or to each other, but apparent guilt,

And shame, and perturbation, and despaire,

Anger, and obstinacie, and hate, and guile.

Whence ADAM faultring long, thus answer'd brief.

I heard thee in the Garden, and of thy voice

Affraid, being naked, hid my self. To whom

The gracious Judge without revile repli'd.

My voice thou oft hast heard, and hast not fear'd,

But still rejoyc't, how is it now become