To me committed, and by me expos'd, But rife, 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 fee, Will prove no fudden, but a slow-pac't evil, A long days dying to augment our paine, And to our feed (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 fo unfortunate; nevertheless, Reftor'd by thee, vile as I am, to place Of new acceptance, hopeful to regain Thy love, the fole 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 eafier choice. If care of our descent perplex us most, Which must be born to certain woe, devour'd By death at laft, and miserable it is
To be to others caufe of mifery.
Our own begotten, and of our loins to bring Into this curfed 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 wo Be forc'd to satisfie his rav'nous maw.
But if thou judge it hard and difficult, Converfing, looking, loving, to abstain From love's due rites, nuptial embraces sweet, And with defire to languish without hope, Before the prefent 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 feek death, or he not found, fupply With our own hands his office on ourselves; Why stand we longer shivering, under fears, That shew no end but death, and have the power, Of many wayes to die the shortest choofing, Deftruction with destruction to destroy.
She ended here, or vehement despair
Broke off the reft; fo much of death her thoughts Had entertain'd, as di'd her cheeks with pale. But Adam with fuch counsel nothing fway'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 fomething more fublime And excellent than what thy mind contemns ; But felf-deftruction therefore fought, refutes That excellence thought in thee, and implies, Not thy contempt, but anguish and regret
xr lofs of life and pleasure overlov'd. r if thou covet death, as utmost end f miferie, fo thinking to evade
he penaltie pronounc't, doubt not but. God (ath wifelier arm'd his vengeful.ire than fo To be forftall'd; much more I fear least death ● 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 feck Some fafer refolution, which methinks I have in view, calling to mind with heed Part of our fentence, that thy feed shall bruife The ferpent's 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 loft By death brought on ourselves, or childless days Resolv'd, as thou proposest; so our foe Shall scape his punishment ordain'd, and we Instead shall double ours upon our heads. No more be mention'd then of violence Against ourselves, and wilfull barrennefs, 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 judg'd 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, soon recompenc't with joy, Fruit of thy womb : on me the curse aslope Glanc'd on the ground, with labour I must earr My bread; what harm? idleness had been worfe; My labour will sustain me and leaft cold Or heat should injure us, his timely care Hath unbefaught 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 fnow, Which now the fkie with various face begins To fhew us in this mountain, while the winds Blow moist and keen, fhattering the graceful locks Of these fair spreading trees; which bids us seek Some better shroud, some better warmth to cherish Our limbs benumm'd, ere this diurnal star Leave cold the night, how we his gather'd beams. Reflected, may with matter fere foment,
Or by collifion of two bodies grind
The air attrite to fire, as late the clouds.
Juftling or pusht with winds rude in their shock
Tine the flant lightning, whofe thwart flame driv'n down Kindles the gummie bark of fir or pine,
And fends a comfortable heat from far,
Which might fupply the fun : fuch 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 Befeeching him, so as we need not fear To país commodiously this life, fuftain'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 förrow unfeign'd, and humiliation meek. Undoubtedly he will relent and turn
From his displeasure; in whofe look ferene, When angry moft he feem'd and most severe, What else but favour, grace, and mercie shon? So fpake our father penitent, nor Eve Felt lefs remorfe: they forthwith to the place Repairing where he judg'd them prostrate fell Before him reverent, and both confefs'd Humbly their faults, and pardon beg'd, with tears Watering the ground, and with their fighs the air Frequenting, fent from hearts contrite, in fign Of forrow unfeign'd, and humiliation meek.
The End of the Tenth Book.
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