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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 burthen, in our share of woe ;
Since this day's death denounc't, if ought I see;
Will prove no sudden, but a now-pact evil;

A long days dying to augment our paine,
And to our seed (O hapless Seed) deriv’d.

To whom thus Eve, recovering heart, reply'd,
Adam, by fad experiment I know
How little weight my words with thee can find,
Found fo erroneous, thence by just event
Found so unfortunate ; nevertheless,
Restor'd by thee, vile as I am, to place
Of new acceptance, hopeful to regain
Thy love, the sole contentment of my heart
Living or dying, from thee I will not hide
What thoughts in my unquiet breast are ris'n,
Tending to some relief of our extreams,
Or end, though sharp and fad, 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, devour'd
By death at last, and miserable it is
To be to others cause of mifery.
Our own begotten, and of our loins to bring
Into this cursed world a rueful race,
That after wretched life must be at last
Food for fo foul a monster, in thy power
It lies, yet e'er conception to prevent

The race unbleft, 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 love's dưe rites, nuptial embraces sweet,
And with desire to languish without hope,
Before the present object languishing
With like defire, which would be miserie
And torment less than none of what we dread,
Then both ourselves and feed at once to free
From what we fear for both, let us make short,
Let us seek death, or he not found, supply
With our own hands his office on ourselves ;
Why stand we longer shivering, under fears,
That Thew no end but death, and have the power,
Of many wayes to die the shortest choofing;
Destruction with destruction to destroy.

She ended here, or vehement despair
Broke off the rest ; fo much of death her thoughts
Had entertain'd, as did her cheeks with pale.
But Adam with such counsel nothing sway'd,
To better hopes his more attentive mind
Labouring had rais’d, and thus to Eve repli’d.

Eve, thy contempt of life and pleasure feems
To argue in thee something more sublime
And excellent than what thy mind contemns ;
But self-destruction therefore fought, refutes
That excellence thought in thee, and implies,
Not thy contempt, but anguish and regret

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or loss of life and pleasure overlov’d. r if thou covet death, as utmost end f miserie, so thinking to evade he penaltie pronoune't, doubt not but. God lath wiselier arm'd his vengeful ire than fo o be forftall’d; much more I fear least death o snatcht will not exempt us from the pain We are by doom to pay ; rather such acts Of contumacie will provoke the Highest

To make death in us live: then let us seck Some safer resolution, which methinks I have in view, calling to mind with heed „Part of our sentence, that thy feed shall bruise

The serpent's head. ; piteous amends, unless Be meant, whom I conjecture, our grand foe

Satan, who in the ferpent hath contriv'd y Against us this deceit: to crush his head

Would be revenge indeed ; which will be lost
By death brought on ourselves, or childless days
Resolv'd, as thou proposest ; so our foe
Shall fcape his punishment ordain'd, and wc
Instead shall double ours upon our heads.
No more be mention'd then of violence
Against ourselves, and wilfull barrenness,
That cuts us off from hope, and favours only
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 judgid
Without wrauth or 'reviling; we expected
Immediate diffolution, which we thought

Was meant by death that day, when lo, to thee
Pains only in child-bearing were foretold,
And bringing forth, foon recompenc't with joy,
Fruit of thy womb : on me the curse allope
Glanc'd on the ground, with labour I malt earr
My bread; what harm? idleness had been worfe ;
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 judgid;
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 Thun
Th'inclement seasons, rain, ice, hail and snow,
Which now the fkie with various face begins
To Mew us in this mountain, while the winds
Blow moist and keen, shattering the graceful locks
Of these fair spreading trees; which bids us seek
Some better froud, some better warmth to cherish
Our limbs benumm’d, cre this diurnal star
Leave cold the night, how we his gather'd beams.
Reflected, may with matter fere foment,
Or by collision of two bodies grind
The air attrite to fire, as late the clouds.
Justling or pusht with winds rude in their shock
Tine the Nant lightning, whose thwart Aame driv’n dowa
Kindles the gummie bark of fir or pine,
And sends a comfortable heat from far;
Which might supply the sun : such fire to use,
And what may else be remedie or cure
To evils which our own misdeeds have wrought,

He will instruct us praying, and of grace
Beseeching him, so as we need not fear
To pass commodiously this life, fustain'd
By him with many comfort, till we end
In duft, our final rest and native home.
What better can we do, than to the place
Repairing where he judg’d us, proftrate fall
Before him reverent, and there confess
Humbly our faults, and pardon beg, with tears
Watering the ground, and with our fighs the air
Frequenting, fent from hearts contrite, in fign
Of sorrow unfeign'd, and humiliation meek,
Undoubtedly he will relent and turn
From his difpleasure; in whose look serene,
When angry moft he seem'd'and most severe,
What else but favour, grace, and mercie Thon?

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
Hümbly their faults, and pardon beg'd, with tears
Watering the ground, and with their fighs the air
Frequenting, sent from hearts contrite, in fign
Of sorrow unfeign'd; and humiliation meek,

The End of the Tenth Book

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