| So spake the Enemy of Mankind, enclosed | |
| In serpent, inmate bad, and toward Eve | 495 |
| Addressed his way—not with indented wave, | |
| Prone on the ground, as since, but on his rear, | |
| Circular base of rising folds, that towered | |
| Fold above fold, a surging maze; his head | |
| Crested aloft, and carbuncle his eyes; | 500 |
| With burnished neck of verdant gold, erect | |
| Amidst his circling spires, that on the grass | |
| Floated redundant. Pleasing was his shape | |
| And lovely; never since the serpent kind | |
| Lovelier—not those that in Illyria changed | 505 |
| Hermione and Cadmus, or the God | |
| In Epidaurus; nor to which transformed | |
| Ammonian Jove, or Capitoline, was seen, | |
| He with Olympias, this with her who bore | |
| Scipio, the highth of Rome. With tract oblique | 510 |
| At first, as one who sought access but feared | |
| To interrupt, sidelong he works his way. | |
| As when a ship, by skilful steersman wrought | |
| Nigh river’s mouth or foreland, where the wind | |
| Veers oft, as oft so steers, and shifts her sail, | 515 |
| So varied he, and of his tortuous train | |
| Curled many a wanton wreath in sight of Eve, | |
| To lure her eye. She, busied, heard the sound | |
| Of rustling leaves, but minded not, as used | |
| To such disport before her through the field | 520 |
| From every beast, more duteous at her call | |
| Than at Circean call the herd disguised. | |
| He, bolder now, uncalled before her stood, | |
| But as in gaze admiring. Oft he bowed | |
| His turret crest and sleek enamelled neck, | 525 |
| Fawning, and licked the ground whereon she trod. | |
| His gentle dumb expression turned at length | |
| The eye of Eve to mark his play; he, glad | |
| Of her attention gained, with serpent-tongue | |
| Organic, or impulse of vocal air, | 530 |
| His fraudulent temptation thus began:— | |
| “Wonder not, sovran mistress (if perhaps | |
| Thou canst who art sole wonder), much less arm | |
| Thy looks, the heaven of mildness, with disdain, | |
| Displeased that I approach thee thus, and gaze | 535 |
| Insatiate, I thus single, nor have feared | |
| Thy awful brow, more awful thus retired. | |
| Fairest resemblance of thy Maker fair, | |
| Thee all things living gaze on, all things thine | |
| By gift, and thy celestial beauty adore, | 540 |
| With ravishment beheld—there best beheld | |
| Where universally admired. But here, | |
| In this enclosure wild, these beasts among, | |
| Beholders rude, and shallow to discern | |
| Half what in thee is fair, one man except, | 545 |
| Who sees thee (and what is one?) who shouldst be seen | |
| A Goddess among Gods, adored and served | |
| By Angels numberless, thy daily train?” | |
| So glozed the Tempter, and his proem tuned. | |
| Into the heart of Eve his words made way, | 550 |
| Though at the voice much marvelling; at length, | |
| Not unamazed, she thus in answer spake:— | |
| “What may this mean? Language of Man pronounced | |
| By tongue of brute, and human sense expressed! | |
| The first at least of these I thought denied | 555 |
| To beasts, whom God on their creation-day | |
| Created mute to all articulate sound; | |
| The latter I demur, for in their looks | |
| Much reason, and in their actions, oft appears. | |
| Thee, Serpent, subtlest beast of all the field | 560 |
| I knew, but not with human voice endued; | |
| Redouble, then, this miracle, and say, | |
| How cam’st thou speakable of mute, and how | |
| To me so friendly grown above the rest | |
| Of brutal kind that daily are in sight: | 565 |
| Say, for such wonder claims attention due.” | |
| To whom the guileful Tempter thus replied:— | |
| “Empress of this fair World, resplendent Eve! | |
| Easy to me it is to tell thee all | |
| What thou command’st, and right thou shouldst be obeyed. | 570 |
| I was at first as other beasts that graze | |
| The trodden herb, of abject thoughts and low, | |
| As was my food, nor aught but food discerned | |
| Or sex, and apprehended nothing high: | |
| Till on a day, roving the field, I chanced | 575 |
| A goodly tree far distant to behold, | |
| Loaden with fruit of fairest colours mixed, | |
| Ruddy and gold. In nearer drew to gaze; | |
| When from the boughs a savoury odour blown, | |
| Grateful to appetite, more pleased my sense | 580 |
| Than smell of sweetest fennel, or the teats | |
| Of ewe or goat dropping with milk at even, | |
| Unsucked of lamb or kid, that tend their play. | |
| To satisfy the sharp desire I had | |
| Of tasting those fair Apples, I resolved | 585 |
| Not to defer; hunger and thirst at once, | |
| Powerful persuaders, quickened at the scent | |
| Of that alluring fruit, urged me so keen. | |
| About the mossy trunk I wound me soon; | |
| For, high from ground, the branches would require | 590 |
| Thy utmost reach, or Adam’s; round the Tree | |
| All other beasts that saw, with like desire | |
| Longing and envying stood, but could not reach. | |
| Amid the tree now got, where plenty hung | |
| Tempting so nigh, to pluck and eat my fill | 595 |
| I spared not; for such pleasure till that hour | |
| At feed or fountain never had I found. | |
| Sated at length, ere long I might perceive | |
| Strange alteration in me, to degree | |
| Of Reason in my inward powers, and Speech | 600 |
| Wanted not long, though to this shape retained. | |
| Thenceforth to speculations high or deep | |
| I turned my thoughts, and with capacious mind | |
| Considered all things visible in Heaven, | |
| Or Earth, or Middle, all things fair and good. | 605 |
| But all that fair and good in thy Divine | |
| Semblance, and in thy beauty’s heavenly ray, | |
| United I beheld—no fair to thine | |
| Equivalent or second; which compelled | |
| Me thus, though importune perhaps, to come | 610 |
| And gaze, and worship thee of right declared | |
| Sovran of creatures, universal Dame!” | |
| So talked the spirited sly Snake; and Eve, | |
| Yet more amazed, unwary thus replied:— | |
| “Serpent, thy overpraising leaves in doubt | 615 |
| The virtue of that Fruit, in thee first proved. | |
| But say, where grows the Tree? from hence how far? | |
| For many are the trees of God that grow | |
| In Paradise, and various, yet unknown | |
| To us; in such abundance lies our choice | 620 |
| As leaves a greater store of fruit untouched, | |
| Still hanging incorruptible, till men | |
| Grow up to their provision, and more hands | |
| Help to disburden Nature of her bearth.” | |
| To whom the wily Adder, blithe and glad;— | 625 |
| “Empress, the way is ready, and not long— | |
| Beyond a row of myrtles, on a flat, | |
| Fast by a fountain, one small thicket past | |
| Of blowing myrrh and balm. If thou accept | |
| My conduct, I can bring thee thither soon.” | 630 |
| “Lead, then,” said Eve. He, leading, swiftly rowled | |
| In tangles, and made intricate seem straight, | |
| To mischief swift. Hope elevates, and joy | |
| Brightens his crest. As when a wandering fire, | |
| Compact of unctuous vapour, which the night | 635 |
| Condenses, and the cold invirons round, | |
| Kindled through agitation to a flame | |
| (Which oft, they say, some evil Spirit attends), | |
| Hovering and blazing with delusive light, | |
| Misleads the amazed night-wanderer from his way | 640 |
| To bogs and mires, and oft through pond or pool, | |
| There swallowed up and lost, from succour far: | |
| So glistered the dire Snake, and into fraud | |
| Led Eve, our credulous mother, to the Tree | |
| Of Prohibition, root of all our woe; | 645 |
| Which when she saw, thus to her guide she spake:— | |
| “Serpent, we might have spared our coming hither, | |
| Fruitless to me, though fruit be here to excess, | |
| The credit of whose virtue rest with thee— | |
| Wondrous, indeed, if cause of such effects! | 650 |
| But of this tree we may not taste nor touch; | |
| God so commanded, and left that command | |
| Sole daughter of his voice: the rest, we live | |
| Law to ourselves; our Reason is our Law.” | |
| To whom the Tempter guilefully replied:— | 655 |
| “Indeed! Hath God then said that of the fruit | |
| Of all these garden-trees ye shall not eat, | |
| Yet lords declared of all in Earth or Air?” | |
| To whom thus Eve, yet sinless:—“Of the fruit | |
| Of each tree in the garden we may eat; | 660 |
| But of the fruit of this fair Tree, amidst | |
| The Garden, God hath said, ‘Ye shall not eat | |
| Thereof, nor shall ye touch it, lest ye die.’“ | |
| She scarce had said, though brief, when now more bold | |
| The Tempter, but, with shew of zeal and love | 665 |
| To Man, and indignation at his wrong, | |
| New part puts on, and, as to passion moved, | |
| Fluctuates disturbed, yet comely, and in act | |
| Raised, as of some great matter to begin. | |
| As when of old some orator renowned | 670 |
| In Athens or free Rome, where eloquence | |
| Flourished, since mute, to some great cause addressed, | |
| Stood in himself collected, while each part, | |
| Motion, each act, won audience ere the tongue | |
| Sometimes in highth began, as no delay | 675 |
| Of preface brooking through his zeal of right: | |
| So standing, moving, or to highth upgrown, | |
| The Tempter, all impassioned, thus began:— | |
| “O sacred, wise, and wisdom-giving Plant, | |
| Mother of science! now I feel thy power | 680 |
| Within me clear, not only to discern | |
| Things in their causes, but to trace the ways | |
| Of highest agents, deemed however wise. | |
| Queen of this Universe! do not believe | |
| Those rigid threats of death. Ye shall not die. | 685 |
| How should ye? By the Fruit? it gives you life | |
| To knowledge. By the Threatener? look on me, | |
| Me who have touched and tasted, yet both live, | |
| And life more perfect have attained than Fate | |
| Meant me, by venturing higher than my lot. | 690 |
| Shall that be shut to Man which to the Beast | |
| Is open? or will God incense his ire | |
| For such a petty trespass, and not praise | |
| Rather your dauntless virtue, whom the pain | |
| Of death denounced, whatever thing Death be, | 695 |
| Deterred not from achieving what might lead | |
| To happier life, knowledge of Good and Evil? | |
| Of good, how just! of evil—if what is evil | |
| Be real, why not known, since easier shunned? | |
| God, therefore, cannot hurt ye and be just; | 700 |
| Not just, not God; not feared then, nor obeyed: | |
| Your fear itself of death removes the fear. | |
| Why, then, was this forbid? Why but to awe, | |
| Why but to keep ye low and ignorant, | |
| His worshipers? He knows that in the day | 705 |
| Ye eat thereof your eyes, that seem so clear, | |
| Yet are but dim, shall perfectly be then | |
| Opened and cleared, and ye shall be as Gods, | |
| Knowing both good and evil, as they know. | |
| That ye should be as Gods, since I as Man, | 710 |
| Internal Man, is but proportion meet— | |
| I, of brute, human; ye, of human, Gods. | |
| So ye shall die perhaps, by putting off | |
| Human, to put on Gods—death to be wished, | |
| Though threatened, which no worse than this can bring! | 715 |
| And what are Gods, that Man may not become | |
| As they, participating godlike food? | |
| The Gods are first, and that advantage use | |
| On our belief, that all from them proceeds. | |
| I question it; for this fair Earth I see, | 720 |
| Warmed by the Sun, producing every kind; | |
| Them nothing. If they all things, who enclosed | |
| Knowledge of Good and Evil in this Tree, | |
| That whoso eats thereof forthwith attains | |
| Wisdom without their leave? and wherein lies | 725 |
| The offence, that Man should thus attain to know? | |
| What can your knowledge hurt him, or this Tree | |
| Impart against his will, if all be his? | |
| Or is it envy? and can envy dwell | |
| In Heavenly breasts? These, these and many more | 730 |
| Causes import your need of this fair Fruit. | |
| Goddess humane, reach, then, and freely taste!” | |
| He ended; and his words, replete with guile, | |
| Into her heart too easy entrance won. | |
| Fixed on the Fruit she gazed, which to behold | 735 |
| Might tempt alone; and in her ears the sound | |
| Yet rung of his persuasive words, impregned | |
| With reason, to her seeming, and with truth. | |
| Meanwhile the hour of noon drew on, and waked | |
| An eager appetite, raised by the smell | 740 |
| So savoury of that Fruit, which with desire, | |
| Inclinable now grown to touch or taste, | |
| Solicited her longing eye; yet first, | |
| Pausing a while, thus to herself she mused:— | |
| “Great are thy virtues, doubtless, best of Fruits, | 745 |
| Though kept from Man, and worthy to be admired, | |
| Whose taste, too long forborne, at first assay | |
| Gave elocution to the mute, and taught | |
| The tongue not made for speech to speak thy praise. | |
| Thy praise he also who forbids thy use | 750 |
| Conceals not from us, naming thee the Tree | |
| Of Knowledge, knowledge both of Good and Evil; | |
| Forbids us then to taste. But his forbidding | |
| Commends thee more, while it infers the good | |
| By thee communicated, and our want; | 755 |
| For good unknown sure is not bad, or, had | |
| And yet unknown, is as not had at all. | |
| In plain, then, what forbids he but to know? | |
| Forbids us good, forbids us to be wise! | |
| Such prohibitions bind not. But, if Death | 760 |
| Bind us with after-bands, what profits then | |
| Our inward freedom? In the day we eat | |
| Of this fair Fruit, our doom is we shall die! | |
| How dies the Serpent? He hath eaten, and lives, | |
| And knows, and speaks, and reasons, and discerns, | 765 |
| Irrational till then. For us alone | |
| Was death invented? or to us denied | |
| This intellectual food, for beasts reserved? | |
| For beasts it seems; yet that one beast which first | |
| Hath tasted envies not, but brings with joy | 770 |
| The good befallen him, author unsuspect, | |
| Friendly to Man, far from deceit or guile. | |
| What fear I, then? rather, what know to fear | |
| Under this ignorance of Good and Evil, | |
| Of God or Death, of law or penalty? | 775 |
| Here grows the cure of all, this fruit divine, | |
| Fair to the eye, inviting to the taste, | |
| Of virtue to make wise. What hinders, then, | |
| To reach, and feed at once both body and mind?” | |
| So saying, her rash hand in evil hour | 780 |
| Forth-reaching to the Fruit, she plucked, she eat. | |
| Earth felt the wound, and Nature from her seat, | |
| Sighing through all her works, gave signs of woe | |
| That all was lost. |
