My Bowels, their repast; then bursting forthAfresh with conscious terrours vex me round,That rest or intermission none I find.Before mine eyes in opposition sitsGrim Death my Son and foe, who sets them on,And me his Parent would full soon devourFor want of other prey, but that he knowsHis end with mine involvd; and knows that IShould prove a bitter Morsel, and his bane,When ever that shall be; so Fate pronounc'd.
[810]
But thou O Father, I forewarn thee, shunHis deadly arrow; neither vainly hopeTo be invulnerable in those bright Arms,Though temper'd heav'nly, for that mortal dint,Save he who reigns above, none can resist.She finish'd, and the suttle Fiend his loreSoon learnd, now milder, and thus answerd smooth.Dear Daughter, since thou claim'st me for thy Sire,And my fair Son here showst me, the dear pledgeOf dalliance had with thee in Heav'n, and joys
[820]
Then sweet, now sad to mention, through dire changeBefalln us unforeseen, unthought of, knowI come no enemie, but to set freeFrom out this dark and dismal house of pain,Both him and thee, and all the heav'nly HostOf Spirits that in our just pretenses arm'dFell with us from on high: from them I goThis uncouth errand sole, and one for allMy self expose, with lonely steps to treadTh' unfounded deep, & through the void immense
[830]
To search with wandring quest a place foretoldShould be, and, by concurring signs, ere nowCreated vast and round, a place of blissIn the Pourlieues of Heav'n, and therein plac'tA race of upstart Creatures, to supplyPerhaps our vacant room, though more remov'd,Least Heav'n surcharg'd with potent multitudeMight hap to move new broiles: Be this or aughtThen this more secret now design'd, I hasteTo know, and this once known, shall soon return,
[840]
And bring ye to the place where Thou and DeathShall dwell at ease, and up and down unseenWing silently the buxom Air, imbalm'dWith odours; there ye shall be fed and fill'dImmeasurably, all things shall be your prey.He ceas'd, for both seemd highly pleasd, and DeathGrinnd horrible a gastly smile, to hearHis famine should be fill'd, and blest his maweDestin'd to that good hour: no less rejoyc'dHis mother bad, and thus bespake her Sire.
[850]
The key of this infernal Pit by due,And by command of Heav'ns all-powerful KingI keep, by him forbidden to unlockThese Adamantine Gates; against all forceDeath ready stands to interpose his dart,Fearless to be o'rematcht by living might.But what ow I to his commands aboveWho hates me, and hath hither thrust me downInto this gloom of Tartarus profound,To sit in hateful Office here confin'd,
[860]
Inhabitant of Heav'n, and heav'nlie-born,Here in perpetual agonie and pain,