Thir penance, laden with fair Fruit, like thatWhich grew in Paradise, the bait of EveUs'd by the Tempter: on that prospect strangeThir earnest eyes they fix'd, imaginingFor one forbidden Tree a multitudeNow ris'n, to work them furder woe or shame;Yet parcht with scalding thurst and hunger fierce,Though to delude them sent, could not abstain,But on they rould in heaps, and up the TreesClimbing, sat thicker then the snakie locks
[560]
That curld Megæra: greedily they pluck'dThe Frutage fair to sight, like that which grewNeer that bituminous Lake where Sodom flam'd;This more delusive, not the touch, but tasteDeceav'd; they fondly thinking to allayThir appetite with gust, instead of FruitChewd bitter Ashes, which th' offended tasteWith spattering noise rejected: oft they assayd,Hunger and thirst constraining, drugd as oft,With hatefullest disrelish writh'd thir jaws
[570]
With foot and cinders fill'd; so oft they fellInto the same illusion, not as ManWhom they triumph'd once lapst. Thus were they plagu'dAnd worn with Famin, long and ceasless hiss,Till thir lost shape, permitted, they resum'd,Yearly enjoynd, some say, to undergoThis annual humbling certain number'd days,To dash thir pride, and joy for Man seduc't.However some tradition they dispers'dAmong the Heathen of thir purchase got,
[580]
And Fabl'd how the Serpent, whom they calldOphion with Eurynome, the wide —Encroaching Eve perhaps, had first the ruleOf high Olympus, thence by Saturn driv'nAnd Ops, ere yet Dictæan Jove was born.Mean while in Paradise the hellish pairToo soon arriv'd, Sin there in power before,Once actual, now in body, and to dwellHabitual habitant; behind her DeathClose following pace for pace, not mounted yet
[590]
On his pale Horse: to whom Sin thus began.Second of Satan sprung, all conquering Death,What thinkst thou of our Empire now, though earndWith travail difficult, not better farrThen stil at Hels dark threshold to have sate watch,Unnam'd, undreaded, and thy self half starv'd?Whom thus the Sin-born Monster answerd soon.To mee, who with eternal Famin pine,Alike is Hell, or Paradise, or Heaven,There best, where most with ravin I may meet;
[600]
Which here, though plenteous, all too little seemsTo stuff this Maw, this vast unhide-bound Corps.To whom th' incestuous Mother thus repli'd.Thou therefore on these Herbs, and Fruits, & FloursFeed first, on each Beast next, and Fish, and Fowle,No homely morsels, and whatever thingThe Sithe of Time mowes down, devour unspar'd,Till I in Man residing through the Race,His thoughts, his looks, words, actions all infect,And season him thy last and sweetest prey.
[610]
This said, they both betook them several wayes,Both to destroy, or unimmortal make