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

Creature so faire his reconcilement seeking,

His counsel whom she had displeas'd, his aide;

As one disarm'd, his anger all he lost,

And thus with peaceful words uprais'd her soon.

Unwarie, and too desirous, as before,

So now of what thou knowst not, who desir'st

The punishment all on thy self; alas,

Beare thine own first, ill able to sustaine

His full wrauth whose thou feelst as yet lest part,

And my displeasure bearst so ill. If Prayers

Could alter high Decrees, I to that place

Would speed before thee, and be louder heard,

That on my head all might be visited,

Thy frailtie and infirmer Sex forgiv'n,

To me committed and by me expos'd.

But rise, let us no more contend, nor blame

Each other, blam'd enough elsewhere, but strive

In offices of Love, how we may light'n

Each others burden in our share of woe;

Since this days Death denounc't, if ought I see,

Will prove no sudden, but a slow-pac't evill,

A long days dying to augment our paine,

And to our Seed (O hapless Seed!) deriv'd.

To whom thus EVE, recovering heart, repli'd.

ADAM, by sad experiment I know

How little weight my words with thee can finde,

Found so erroneous, thence by just event

Found so unfortunate; nevertheless,

Restor'd by thee, vile as I am, to place

Of new acceptance, hopeful to regaine

Thy Love, the sole contentment of my heart,

Living or dying from thee I will not hide

What thoughts in my unquiet brest are ris'n,

Tending to som relief of our extremes,

Or end, though sharp and sad, yet tolerable,

As in our evils, and of easier choice.

If care of our descent perplex us most,

Which must be born to certain woe, devourd

By Death at last, and miserable it is

To be to others cause of misery,

Our own begotten, and of our Loines to bring

Into this cursed World a woful Race,

That after wretched Life must be at last

Food for so foule a Monster, in thy power

It lies, yet ere Conception to prevent

The Race unblest, to being yet unbegot.

Childless thou art, Childless remaine:

So Death shall be deceav'd his glut, and with us two

Be forc'd to satisfie his Rav'nous Maw.

But if thou judge it hard and difficult,

Conversing, looking, loving, to abstain

From Loves due Rites, Nuptial embraces sweet,

And with desire to languish without hope,

Before the present object languishing

With like desire, which would be miserie

And torment less then none of what we dread,

Then both our selves and Seed at once to free

From what we fear for both, let us make short,

Let us seek Death, or hee not found, supply

With our own hands his Office on our selves;

Why stand we longer shivering under feares,

That shew no end but Death, and have the power,

Of many wayes to die the shortest choosing,

Destruction with destruction to destroy.

She ended heer, or vehement despaire

Broke off the rest; so much of Death her thoughts

Had entertaind, as di'd her Cheeks with pale.

But ADAM with such counsel nothing sway'd,

To better hopes his more attentive minde

Labouring had rais'd, and thus to EVE repli'd.

EVE, thy contempt of life and pleasure seems

To argue in thee somthing more sublime

And excellent then what thy minde contemnes;

But self-destruction therefore saught, refutes

That excellence thought in thee, and implies,

Not thy contempt, but anguish and regret

For loss of life and pleasure overlov'd.

Or if thou covet death, as utmost end

Of miserie, so thinking to evade

The penaltie pronounc't, doubt not but God

Hath wiselier arm'd his vengeful ire then so

To be forestall'd; much more I fear least Death

So snatcht will not exempt us from the paine

We are by doom to pay; rather such acts

Of contumacie will provoke the highest

To make death in us live: Then let us seek

Som safer resolution, which methinks

I have in view, calling to minde with heed

Part of our Sentence, that thy Seed shall bruise

The Serpents head; piteous amends, unless

Be meant, whom I conjecture, our grand Foe

SATAN, who in the Serpent hath contriv'd

Against us this deceit: to crush his head

Would be revenge indeed; which will be lost

By death brought on our selves, or childless days

Resolv'd, as thou proposest; so our Foe

Shall scape his punishment ordain'd, and wee

Instead shall double ours upon our heads.

No more be mention'd then of violence

Against our selves, and wilful barrenness,

That cuts us off from hope, and savours onely

Rancor and pride, impatience and despite,

Reluctance against God and his just yoke

Laid on our Necks. Remember with what mild

And gracious temper he both heard and judg'd

Without wrauth or reviling; wee expected

Immediate dissolution, which we thought

Was meant by Death that day, when lo, to thee

Pains onely in Child-bearing were foretold,

And bringing forth, soon recompenc't with joy,

Fruit of thy Womb: On mee the Curse aslope

Glanc'd on the ground, with labour I must earne

My bread; what harm? Idleness had bin worse;

My labour will sustain me; and least Cold

Or Heat should injure us, his timely care

Hath unbesaught provided, and his hands

Cloath'd us unworthie, pitying while he judg'd;

How much more, if we pray him, will his ear

Be open, and his heart to pitie incline,

And teach us further by what means to shun

Th' inclement Seasons, Rain, Ice, Hail and Snow,

Which now the Skie with various Face begins

To shew us in this Mountain, while the Winds

Blow moist and keen, shattering the graceful locks

Of these fair spreading Trees; which bids us seek

Som better shroud, som better warmth to cherish

Our Limbs benumm'd, ere this diurnal Starr

Leave cold the Night, how we his gather'd beams

Reflected, may with matter sere foment,

Or by collision of two bodies grinde

The Air attrite to Fire, as late the Clouds

Justling or pusht with Winds rude in thir shock

Tine the slant Lightning, whose thwart flame driv'n down

Kindles the gummie bark of Firr or Pine,

And sends a comfortable heat from farr,

Which might supplie the Sun: such Fire to use,

And what may else be remedie or cure

To evils which our own misdeeds have wrought,

Hee will instruct us praying, and of Grace

Beseeching him, so as we need not fear

To pass commodiously this life, sustain'd

By him with many comforts, till we end

In dust, our final rest and native home.

What better can we do, then to the place

Repairing where he judg'd us, prostrate fall

Before him reverent, and there confess

Humbly our faults, and pardon beg, with tears

VVatering the ground, and with our sighs the Air

Frequenting, sent from hearts contrite, in sign

Of sorrow unfeign'd, and humiliation meek.

Undoubtedly he will relent and turn

From his displeasure; in whose look serene,

VVhen angry most he seem'd and most severe,

VVhat else but favor, grace, and mercie shon?

So spake our Father penitent, nor EVE

Felt less remorse: they forthwith to the place

Repairing where he judg'd them prostrate fell

Before him reverent, and both confess'd

Humbly thir faults, and pardon beg'd, with tears

VVatering the ground, and with thir sighs the Air

Frequenting, sent from hearts contrite, in sign

Of sorrow unfeign'd, and humiliation meek.

BOOK X.

Thus they in lowliest plight repentant stood