No More Learning

_ Bright minister of heaven, sent here below
To me, who but begin to think and know;
If such could fall from bliss, who knew and saw,
By near admission, their creator's law,
What hopes have I, from heaven remote so far,
To keep those laws, unknowing when I err?

_Raphael. _ Right reason's law to every human heart
The Eternal, as his image, will impart:
This teaches to adore heaven's Majesty;
In prayer and praise does all devotion lie:
So doing, thou and all thy race are blest.

_Adam. _ Of every creeping thing, of bird, and beast,
I see the kinds: In pairs distinct they go;
The males their loves, their lovers females know:
Thou nam'st a race which must proceed from me,
Yet my whole species in myself I see:
A barren sex, and single, of no use,
But full of forms which I can ne'er produce.

_Raphael. _ Think not the Power, who made thee thus, can find
No way like theirs to propagate thy kind:
Meantime, live happy in thyself alone;
Like him who, single, fills the etherial throne.
To study nature will thy time employ:
Knowledge and innocence are perfect joy.

_Adam. _ If solitude were best, the All-wise above
Had made no creature for himself to love.
I add not to the power he had before;
Yet to make me, extends his goodness more.
He would not be alone, who all things can;
But peopled heaven with angels, earth with man.

_Raphael. _ As man and angels to the Deity,
So all inferior creatures are to thee.
Heaven's greatness no society can bear;
Servants he made, and those thou want'st not here.

_Adam. _ Why did he reason in my soul implant,
And speech, the effect of reason? To the mute,
My speech is lost; my reason to the brute.
Love and society more blessings bring
To them, the slaves, than power to me, their king.

_Raphael. _ Thus far to try thee; but to heaven 'twas known,
It was not best for man to be alone;
An equal, yet thy subject, is designed,
For thy soft hours, and to unbend thy mind.
Thy stronger soul shall her weak reason sway;
And thou, through love, her beauty shalt obey;
Thou shalt secure her helpless sex from harms,
And she thy cares shall sweeten with her charms.

_Adam. _ What more can heaven bestow, or man require?

_Raphael. _ Yes, he can give beyond thy own desire.
A mansion is provided thee, more fair
Than this, and worthy heaven's peculiar care:
Not framed of common earth, nor fruits, nor flowers
Of vulgar growth, but like celestial bowers:
The soil luxuriant, and the fruit divine,
Where golden apples on green branches shine,
And purple grapes dissolve into immortal wine;
For noon-day's heat are closer arbours made,
And for fresh evening air the opener glade.
Ascend; and, as we go,
More wonders thou shalt know.

_Adam. _ And, as we go, let earth and heaven above
Sound our great Maker's power, and greater love.
[_They ascend to soft music, and a song is sung. _

_The Scene changes, and represents, above, a Sun gloriously rising
and moving orbicularly: at a distance, below, is the Moon; the part
next the Sun enlightened, the other dark. A black Cloud comes
whirling from the adverse part of the Heavens, bearing_ LUCIFER _in
it; at his nearer approach the body of the Sun is darkened. _

_Lucif. _ Am I become so monstrous, so disfigured,
That nature cannot suffer my approach,
Or look me in the face, but stands aghast;
And that fair light which gilds this new-made orb,
Shorn of his beams, shrinks in? accurst ambition!
And thou, black empire of the nether world,
How dearly have I bought you! But, 'tis past;
I have already gone too far to stop,
And must push on my dire revenge, in ruin
Of this gay frame, and man, my upstart rival,
In scorn of me created. Down, my pride,
And all my swelling thoughts! I must forget
Awhile I am a devil, and put on
A smooth submissive face; else I in vain
Have past through night and chaos, to discover
Those envied skies again, which I have lost.
But stay; far off I see a chariot driven,
Flaming with beams, and in it Uriel,
One of the seven, (I know his hated face)
Who stands in presence of the eternal throne,
And seems the regent of that glorious light.

_From that part of the Heavens where the Sun appears, a Chariot is
discovered drawn with white Horses, and in it_ URIEL, _the Regent of
the Sun. The Chariot moves swiftly towards_ LUCIFER, _and at_
URIEL'S _approach the Sun recovers his light. _

_Uriel. _ Spirit, who art thou, and from whence arrived?
(For I remember not thy face in heaven)
Or by command, or hither led by choice?
Or wander'st thou within this lucid orb,
And, strayed from those fair fields of light above,
Amidst this new creation want'st a guide,
To reconduct thy steps?

_Lucifer. _ Bright Uriel,
Chief of the seven! thou flaming minister,
Who guard'st this new-created orb of light,
(The world's eye that, and thou the eye of it)
Thy favour and high office make thee known:
An humble cherub I, and of less note,
Yet bold, by thy permission, hither come,
On high discoveries bent.

_Uriel. _ Speak thy design.

_Lucifer. _ Urged by renown of what I heard above,
Divulged by angels nearest heaven's high King,
Concerning this new world, I came to view
(If worthy such a favour) and admire
This last effect of our great Maker's power:
Thence to my wondering fellows I shall turn,
Full fraught with joyful tidings of these works,
New matter of his praise, and of our songs.

_Uriel. _ Thy business is not what deserves my blame,
Nor thou thyself unwelcome; see, fair spirit,
Below yon sphere (of matter not unlike it)
There hangs the ball of earth and water mixt,
Self-centered and unmoved.

_Lucifer. _ But where dwells man?

_Uriel. _ On yonder mount; thou see'st it fenced with rocks,
And round the ascent a theatre of trees,
A sylvan scene, which, rising by degrees,
Leads up the eye below, nor gluts the sight
With one full prospect, but invites by many,
To view at last the whole: There his abode,
Thither direct thy flight.

_Lucifer. _ O blest be thou,
Who to my low converse has lent thy ear,
And favoured my request! Hail, and farewell.
[_Flies downward out of sight. _

_Uriel. _ Not unobserved thou goest, whoe'er thou art;
Whether some spirit on holy purpose bent,
Or some fallen angel from below broke loose,
Who com'st, with envious eyes and curst intent,
To view this world and its created lord:
Here will I watch, and, while my orb rolls on,
Pursue from hence thy much suspected flight,
And, if disguised, pierce through with beams of light.
[_The Chariot drives forward out of sight. _


SCENE II. --_Paradise. _

_Trees cut out on each side, with several Fruits upon them; a
Fountain in the midst: At the far end the prospect terminates in
Walks. _

_Adam. _ If this be dreaming, let me never wake;
But still the joys of that sweet sleep partake.
Methought--but why do I my bliss delay,
By thinking what I thought? Fair vision, stay;
My better half, thou softer part of me,
To whom I yield my boasted sovereignty,
I seek myself, and find not, wanting thee. [_Exit. _

_Enter_ EVE.

_Eve. _ Tell me, ye hills and dales, and thou fair sun,
Who shin'st above, what am I? Whence begun?
Like myself, I see nothing: From each tree
The feathered kind peep down to look on me;
And beasts with up-cast eyes forsake their shade,
And gaze, as if I were to be obeyed.
Sure I am somewhat which they wish to be,
And cannot; I myself am proud of me.
What's here? another firmament below, [_Looks into a fountain. _
Spread wide, and other trees that downward grow!
And now a face peeps up, and now draws near,
With smiling looks, as pleased to see me here.
As I advance, so that advances too,
And seems to imitate whate'er I do:
When I begin to speak, the lips it moves;
Streams drown the voice, or it would say, it loves.
Yet when I would embrace, it will not stay: [_Stoops down to embrace. _
Lost ere 'tis held; when nearest, far away.
Ah, fair, yet false! ah, Being, formed to cheat,
By seeming kindness, mixt with deep deceit!

_Enter_ ADAM.

_Adam. _ O virgin, heaven-begot, and born of man,
Thou fairest of thy great Creator's works!
Thee, goddess, thee the Eternal did ordain,
His softer substitute on earth to reign;
And, wheresoe'er thy happy footsteps tread,
Nature in triumph after thee is led!
Angels with pleasure view thy matchless grace,
And love their Maker's image in thy face.

_Eve. _ O, only like myself,(for nothing here
So graceful, so majestic does appear:)
Art thou the form my longing eyes did see,
Loosed from thy fountain, and come out to me?
Yet sure thou art not, nor thy face the same,
Nor thy limbs moulded in so soft a frame;
Thou look'st more sternly, dost more strongly move,
And more of awe thou bear'st, and less of love.
Yet pleased I hear thee, and above the rest,
I, next myself, admire and love thee best.

_Adam. _ Made to command, thus freely I obey,
And at thy feet the whole creation lay.
Pity that love thy beauty does beget;
What more I shall desire, I know not yet.
First let us locked in close embraces be,
Thence I, perhaps, may teach myself and thee.

_Eve. _ Somewhat forbids me, which I cannot name;
For, ignorant of guilt, I fear not shame:
But some restraining thought, I know not why,
Tells me, you long should beg, I long deny.

_Adam. _ In vain! my right to thee is sealed above;
Look round and see where thou canst place thy love:
All creatures else are much unworthy thee;
They matched, and thou alone art left for me.
If not to love, we both were made in vain;
I my new empire would resign again,
And change with my dumb slaves my nobler mind,
Who, void of reason, more of pleasure find.
Methinks, for me they beg; each silently
Demands thy grace, and seems to watch thy eye.

_Eve. _ I well foresee, whene'er thy suit I grant,
That I my much-loved sovereignty shall want:
Or like myself some other may be made,
And her new beauty may thy heart invade.

_Adam. _ Could heaven some greater master-piece devise,
Set out with all the glories of the skies,
That beauty yet in vain he should decree.
Unless he made another heart for me.

_Eve. _ With how much ease I, whom I love, believe!
Giving myself, my want of worth I grieve.
Here, my inviolable faith I plight,
So, thou be my defence, I, thy delight. [_Exeunt, he leading her. _


ACT III.

SCENE I. --_Paradise. _

LUCIFER.

_Lucif. _ Fair place! yet what is this to heaven, where I
Sat next, so almost equalled the Most High?
I doubted, measuring both, who was more strong;
Then, willing to forget time since so long,
Scarce thought I was created: Vain desire
Of empire in my thoughts still shot me higher,
To mount above his sacred head: Ah why,
When he so kind, was so ungrateful I?
He bounteously bestowed unenvied good
On me: In arbitrary grace I stood:
To acknowledge this, was all he did exact;
Small tribute, where the will to pay was act.
I mourn it now, unable to repent,
As he, who knows my hatred to relent,
Jealous of power once questioned: Hope, farewell;
And with hope, fear; no depth below my hell
Can be prepared: Then, Ill, be thou my good;
And, vast destruction, be my envy's food.
Thus I, with heaven, divided empire gain;
Seducing man, I make his project vain,
And in one hour destroy his six days pain.
They come again, I must retire.

_Enter_ ADAM _and_ EVE.

_Adam. _ Thus shall we live in perfect bliss, and see,
Deathless ourselves, our numerous progeny.
Thou young and beauteous, my desires to bless;
I, still desiring, what I still possess.

_Eve. _ Heaven, from whence love, our greatest blessing, came,
Can give no more, but still to be the same.
Thou more of pleasure may'st with me partake;
I, more of pride, because thy bliss I make.

_Adam. _ When to my arms thou brought'st thy virgin love,
Fair angels sung our bridal hymn above:
The Eternal, nodding, shook the firmament,
And conscious nature gave her glad consent.
Roses unbid, and every fragrant flower,
Flew from their stalks, to strew thy nuptial bower:
The furred and feathered kind the triumph did pursue,
And fishes leaped above the streams, the passing pomp to view.

_Eve. _ When your kind eyes looked languishing on mine,
And wreathing arms did soft embraces join,
A doubtful trembling seized me first all o'er;
Then, wishes; and a warmth, unknown before:
What followed was all ecstasy and trance;
Immortal pleasures round my swimming eyes did dance,
And speechless joys, in whose sweet tumult tost,
I thought my breath and my new being lost.

_Lucif. _ O death to hear! and a worse hell on earth! [_Aside. _
What mad profusion on this clod-born birth!
Abyss of joys, as if heaven meant to shew
What, in base matters, such a hand could do:
Or was his virtue spent, and he no more
With angels could supply the exhausted store,
Of which I swept the sky?
And wanting subjects to his haughty will,
On this mean work employed his trifling skill?

_Eve. _ Blest in ourselves, all pleasures else abound;
Without our care behold the unlaboured ground
Bounteous of fruit; above our shady bowers
The creeping jessamin thrusts her fragrant flowers;
The myrtle, orange, and the blushing rose,
With bending heaps so nigh their blooms disclose,
Each seems to swell the flavour which the other blows:
By these the peach, the guava, and the pine,
And, creeping 'twixt them all, the mantling vine
Does round their trunks her purple clusters twine.

_Adam. _ All these are ours, all nature's excellence,
Whose taste or smell can bless the feasted sense;
One only fruit, in the mid garden placed,--
The Tree of Knowledge,--is denied our taste;
(Our proof of duty to our Maker's will:)
Of disobedience, death's the threatened ill.

_Eve. _ Death is some harm, which, though we know not yet,
Since threatened, we must needs imagine great:
And sure he merits it, who disobeys
That one command, and one of so much ease.

_Lucif. _ Must they then die, if they attempt to know?
He sees they would rebel, and keeps them low.
On this foundation I their ruin lay,
Hope to know more shall tempt to disobey.
I fell by this, and, since their strength is less,
Why should not equal means give like success?

_Adam. _ Come, my fair love, our morning's task we lose;
Some labour even the easiest life would chuse:
Ours is not great: the dangling boughs to crop,
Whose too luxuriant growth our alleys stop,
And choke the paths: This our delight requires,
And heaven no more of daily work desires.

_Eve. _ With thee to live, is paradise alone:
Without the pleasure of thy sight, is none.
I fear small progress will be made this day;
So much our kisses will our task delay. [_Exeunt. _

_Lucif. _ Why have not I, like these, a body too,
Formed for the same delights which they pursue!
I could (so variously my passions move)
Enjoy, and blast her in the act of love.
Unwillingly I hate such excellence;
She wronged me not; but I revenge the offence,
Through her, on heaven, whose thunder took away
My birth-right skies! Live happy whilst you may,
Blest pair; y'are not allowed another day! [_Exit. _

GABRIEL _and_ ITHURIEL _descend, carried on bright clouds, and
flying cross each other, then light on the ground. _

_Gab. _ Ithuriel, since we two commissioned are
From heaven the guardians of this new made pair,
Each mind his charge; for, see, the night draws on,
And rising mists pursue the setting sun.

_Ithu. _ Blest is our lot to serve; our task we know:
To watch, lest any, from the abyss below
Broke loose, disturb their sleep with dreams; or worse,
Assault their beings with superior force.
[URIEL _flies down from the Sun. _

_Uriel. _ Gabriel, if now the watch be set, prepare,
With strictest guard, to shew thy utmost care.
This morning came a spirit, fair he seemed,
Whom, by his face, I some young cherub deemed;
Of man he much inquired, and where his place,
With shews of zeal to praise his Maker's grace;
But I, with watchful eyes, observed his flight,
And saw him on yon steepy mount alight;
There, as he thought, unseen, he laid aside
His borrowed mask, and re-assumed his pride:
I marked his looks, averse to heaven and good;
Dusky he grew, and long revolving stood
On some deep, dark design; thence shot with haste,
And o'er the mounds of Paradise he past:
By his proud port, he seemed the Prince of Hell;
And here he lurks in shades 'till night: Search well
Each grove and thicket, pry in every shape,
Lest, hid in some, the arch hypocrite escape.

_Gab. _ If any spirit come to invade, or scout
From hell, what earthy fence can keep him out?
But rest secure of this, he shall be found,
And taken, or proscribed this happy ground.

_Ithu. _ Thou to the east, I westward walk the round,
And meet we in the midst.

_Uriel. _ Heaven your design
Succeed; your charge requires you, and me mine.
[URIEL _flies forward out of sight; the two Angels
exeunt severally. _

_A Night-piece of a pleasant Bower:_ ADAM _and_ EVE _asleep in it. _

_Enter_ LUCIFER.

_Lucif. _ So, now they lie secure in love, and steep
Their sated senses in full draughts of sleep.
By what sure means can I their bliss invade?
By violence? No, for they are immortal made.
Their reason sleeps, but mimic fancy wakes,
Supplies her part, and wild ideas takes,
From words and things, ill sorted and misjoined;
The anarchy of thought, and chaos of the mind:
Hence dreams, confused and various, may arise;
These will I set before the woman's eyes;
The weaker she, and made my easier prey;
Vain shows and pomp the softer sex betray.
[LUCIFER _sits down by_ EVE, _and seems to whisper
in her ear.
_

_A Vision, where a tree rises loaden with fruit; four Spirits rise
with it, and draw a canopy out of the tree; other Spirits dance
about the tree in deformed shapes; after the dance an Angel enters,
with a Woman, habited like_ EVE.

_Angel. _ [_Singing. _]
Look up, look up, and see,
What heaven prepares for thee;
Look up, and this fair fruit behold,
Ruddy it smiles, and rich with streaks of gold.
The loaded branches downward bend,
Willing they stoop, and thy fair hand attend.
Fair mother of mankind, make haste
And bless, and bless thy senses with the taste.

_Woman. _ No, 'tis forbidden; I
In tasting it shall die.

_Angel. _ Say, who enjoined this harsh command?

_Woman. _ 'Twas heaven; and who can heaven withstand?

_Angel. _ Why was it made so fair, why placed in sight?
Heaven is too good to envy man's delight.
See, we before thy face will try
What thou so fearest, and will not die.
[_The Angel takes the fruit, and gives to the Spirits
who danced; they immediately put off their deformed
shapes, and appear Angels. _

_Angel. _ [_Singing. _]
Behold what a change on a sudden is here!
How glorious in beauty, how bright they appear!
Prom spirits deformed they are deities made,
Their pinions at pleasure the clouds can invade,
[_The Angel gives to the Woman, who eats. _
Till equal in honour they rise,
With him who commands in the skies;
Then taste without fear, and be happy and wise.

_Woman. _ Ah, now I believe! such a pleasure I find,
As enlightens my eyes, and enlivens my mind.
[_The Spirits, who are turned Angels, fly up when
they have tasted. _
I only repent,
I deferred my content.

_Angel. _ Now wiser experience has taught you to prove,
What a folly it is,
Out of fear to shun bliss.
To the joy that's forbidden we eagerly move;
It inhances the price, and increases the love.

_Chorus of both. _ To the joy, &c.

_Two Angels descend; they take the Woman each by the hand, and fly
up with her out of sight. The Angel who sung, and the Spirits who
held the canopy, at the same instant sink down with the tree. _

_Enter_ GABRIEL _and_ ITHURIEL _to_ LUCIFER, _who remains. _

_Gab. _ What art thou? speak thy name and thy intent.
Why here alone? and on what errand sent?
Not from above; no, thy wan looks betray
Diminished light, and eyes unused to day.

_Lucif. _ Not to know me, argues thyself unknown:
Time was, when, shining next the imperial throne,
I sat in awful state; while such as thou
Did in the ignoble crowd at distance bow.

_Gab. _ Think'st thou, vain spirit, thy glories are the same?
And seest not sin obscures thy god-like frame?
I know thee now by thy ungrateful pride,
That shews me what thy faded looks did hide,
Traitor to Him who made and set thee high,
And fool, that Power which formed thee to defy.

_Lucif. _ Go, slaves, return, and fawn in heaven again:
Seek thanks from him whose quarrel you maintain.
Vile wretches! of your servitude to boast;
You basely keep the place I bravely lost.

_Ithu. _ Freedom is choice of what we will and do:
Then blame not servants, who are freely so.
'Tis base not to acknowledge what we owe.

_Lucif. _ Thanks, howe'er due, proclaim subjection yet;
I fought for power to quit the upbraided debt.
Whoe'er expects our thanks, himself repays,
And seems but little, who can want our praise.

_Gab. _ What in us duty, shews not want in him;
Blest in himself alone,
To whom no praise we, by good deeds, can add;
Nor can his glory suffer from our bad.
Made for his use; yet he has formed us so,
We, unconstrained, what he commands us do.
So praise we him, and serve him freely best;
Thus thou, by choice, art fallen, and we are blest.

_Ithu. _ This, lest thou think thy plea, unanswered, good.
Our question thou evad'st: How didst thou dare
To break hell bounds, and near this human pair
In nightly ambush lie?

_Lucif. _ Lives there, who would not seek to force his way,
From pain to ease, from darkness to the day?
Should I, who found the means to 'scape, not dare
To change my sulphurous smoke for upper air?
When I, in fight, sustained your Thunderer,
And heaven on me alone spent half his war,
Think'st thou those wounds were light? Should I not seek
The clemency of some more temperate clime,
To purge my gloom; and, by the sun refined,
Bask in his beams, and bleach me in the wind?

_Gab. _ If pain to shun be all thy business here,
Methinks thy fellows the same course should steer.
Is their pain less, who yet behind thee stay?
Or thou less hardy to endure than they?

_Lucif. _ Nor one, nor t'other; but, as leaders ought,
I ventured first alone, first danger sought,
And first explored this new-created frame,
Which filled our dusky regions with its fame;
In hopes my fainting troops to settle here,
And to defend against your Thunderer,
This spot of earth; or nearer heaven repair,
And forage to his gates from middle air.

_Ithu. _ Fool! to believe thou any part canst gain
From Him, who could'st not thy first ground maintain.

_Gab. _ But whether that design, or one as vain,
To attempt the lives of these, first drew thee here,
Avoid the place, and never more appear
Upon this hallowed earth; else prove our might.

_Lucif. _ Not that I fear, do I decline the fight:
You I disdain; let me with Him contend,
On whom your limitary powers depend.
More honour from the sender than the sent:
Till then, I have accomplished my intent;
And leave this place, which but augments my pain,
Gazing to wish, yet hopeless to obtain. [_Exit, they following him. _


ACT IV.

SCENE I. --_Paradise. _

ADAM _and_ EVE.

_Adam. _ Strange was your dream, and full of sad portent;
Avert it, heaven, if it from heaven were sent!
Let on thy foes the dire presages fall;
To us be good and easy, when we call.

_Eve. _ Behold from far a breaking cloud appears,
Which in it many winged warriors bears:
Their glory shoots upon my aching sense;
Thou, stronger, mayest endure the flood of light,
And while in shades I chear my fainting sight,
Encounter the descending Excellence. [_Exit. _

_The Cloud descends with six Angels in it, and when it is near the
ground, breaks, and on each side discovers six more: They descend
out of the Cloud. _ RAPHAEL _and_ GABRIEL _discourse with_ ADAM, _the
rest stand at a distance. _

_Raph. _ First of mankind, that we from heaven are sent,
Is from heaven's care thy ruin to prevent.
The Apostate Angel has by night been here,
And whispered through thy sleeping consort's ear
Delusive dreams. Thus warned by us, beware,
And guide her frailty by thy timely care.

_Gab. _ These, as thy guards from outward harms, are sent;
Ills from within thy reason must prevent.

_Adam. _ Natives of heaven, who in compassion deign
To want that place where joys immortal reign,
In care of me; what praises can I pay,
Descended in obedience; taught to obey?

_Raph. _ Praise Him alone, who god-like formed thee free,
With will unbounded as a deity;
Who gave thee reason, as thy aid, to chuse
Apparent good, and evil to refuse.
Obedience is that good; this heaven exacts,
And heaven, all-just, from man requires not acts,
Which man wants power to do: Power then is given
Of doing good, but not compelled by heaven.

_Gab. _ Made good, that thou dost to thy Maker owe;
But to thyself, if thou continuest so.

_Adam. _ Freedom of will of all good things is best;
But can it be by finite man possest?
I know not how heaven can communicate
What equals man to his Creator's state.

_Raph. _ Heaven cannot give his boundless power away,
But boundless liberty of choice he may;
So orbs from the first Mover motion take,
Yet each their proper revolutions make.

_Adam. _ Grant heaven could once have given us liberty;
Are we not bounded now, by firm decree,
Since whatsoe'er is pre-ordained must be?
Else heaven for man events might pre-ordain,
And man's free will might make those orders vain.

_Gab. _ The Eternal, when he did the world create,
All other agents did necessitate:
So what he ordered, they by nature do;
Thus light things mount, and heavy downward go.
Man only boasts an arbitrary state.

_Adam. _ Yet causes their effects necessitate
In willing agents: Where is freedom then?
Or who can break the chain which limits men
To act what is unchangeably forecast,
Since the first cause gives motion to the last?

_Raph. _ Heaven, by fore-knowing what will surely be,
Does only, first, effects in causes see,
And finds, but does not make, necessity.
Creation is of power and will the effect,
Foreknowledge only of his intellect.
His prescience makes not, but supposes things;
Infers necessity to be, not brings.
Thus thou art not constrained to good or ill;
Causes, which work the effect, force not the will.

_Adam. _ The force unseen, and distant, I confess;
But the long chain makes not the bondage less.
Even man himself may to himself seem free;
And think that choice, which is necessity.

_Gab. _ And who but man should judge of man's free state?

_Adam. _ I find that I can chuse to love or hate,
Obey or disobey, do good or ill;
Yet such a choice is but consent, not will.
I can but chuse what he at first designed,
For he, before that choice, my will confined.

_Gab. _ Such impious fancies, where they entrance gain,
Make heaven, all-pure, thy crimes to pre-ordain.

_Adam. _ Far, far from me be banished such a thought,
I argue only to be better taught.
Can there be freedom, when what now seems free
Was founded on some first necessity?
For whate'er cause can move the will t'elect,
Must be sufficient to produce the effect;
And what's sufficient must effectual be:
Then how is man, thus forced by causes, free?

_Raph. _ Sufficient causes only work the effect,
When necessary agents they respect.
Such is not man; who, though the cause suffice,
Yet often he his free assent denies.

_Adam. _ What causes not, is not sufficient still.

_Gab. _ Sufficient in itself; not in thy will.

_Raph. _ When we see causes joined to effects at last,
The chain but shews necessity that's past.
That what's done is: (ridiculous proof of fate! )
Tell me which part it does necessitate?
I'll cruise the other; there I'll link the effect.
O chain, which fools, to catch themselves, project!

_Adam. _ Though no constraint from heaven, or causes, be,
Heaven may prevent that ill he does foresee;
And, not preventing, though he does not cause,
He seems to will that men should break his laws.

_Gab. _ Heaven may permit, but not to ill consent;
For, hindering ill, he would all choice prevent.
'Twere to unmake, to take away the will.

_Adam. _ Better constrained to good, than free to ill.

_Raph. _ But what reward or punishment could be,
If man to neither good nor ill were free?
The eternal justice could decree no pain
To him whose sins itself did first ordain;
And good, compelled, could no reward exact:
His power would shine in goodness, not thy act.
Our task is done: Obey; and, in that choice,
Thou shalt be blest, and angels shall rejoice.
[RAPHAEL _and_ GABRIEL _fly up in the Cloud:
the other Angels go off. _

_Adam. _ Hard state of life! since heaven foreknows my will,
Why am I not tied up from doing ill?
Why am I trusted with myself at large,
When he's more able to sustain the charge?
Since angels fell, whose strength was more than mine,
'Twould show more grace my frailty to confine.
Fore-knowing the success, to leave me free,
Excuses him, and yet supports not me.

_To him_ EVE.

_Eve. _ Behold, my heart's dear lord, how high the sun
Is mounted, yet our labour not begun.
The ground, unhid, gives more than we can ask;
But work is pleasure when we chuse our task.
Nature, not bounteous now, but lavish grows;
Our paths with flowers she prodigally strows;
With pain we lift up our entangled feet,
While cross our walks the shooting branches meet.

_Adam. _ Well has thy care advised; 'tis fit we haste;
Nature's too kind, and follows us too fast;
Leaves us no room her treasures to possess,
But mocks our industry with her excess;
And, wildly wanton, wears by night away
The sign of all our labours done by day.

_Eve. _ Since, then, the work's so great, the hands so few,
This day let each a several task pursue.
By thee, my hands to labour will not move,
But, round thy neck, employ themselves in love.
When thou would'st work, one tender touch, one smile
(How can I hold? ) will all thy task beguile.

_Adam. _ So hard we are not to our labour tied,
That smiles, and soft endearments are denied;
Smiles, not allowed to beasts, from reason move,
And are the privilege of human love:
And if, sometimes, each others eyes we meet,
Those little vacancies from toil are sweet.
But you, by absence, would refresh your joys,
Because perhaps my conversation cloys.
Yet this, would prudence grant, I could permit.

_Eve. _ What reason makes my small request unfit?

_Adam. _ The fallen archangel, envious of our state,
Pursues our beings with immortal hate;
And, hopeless to prevail by open force,
Seeks hid advantage to betray us worse;
Which when asunder will not prove so hard;
For both together are each other's guard.

_Eve. _ Since he, by force, is hopeless to prevail,
He can by fraud alone our minds assail:
And to believe his wiles my truth can move,
Is to misdoubt my reason, or my love.

_Adam. _ Call it my care, and not mistrust of thee;
Yet thou art weak, and full of art is he;
Else how could he that host seduce to sin,
Whose fall has left the heavenly nation thin?

_Eve. _ I grant him armed with subtilty and hate;
But why should we suspect our happy state?
Is our perfection of so frail a make,
As every plot can undermine or shake?