Walking with uneasy steps the burning
marle, the lost Archangel made his way to the shore of "that inflamed
sea," and called aloud to his associates, to "Awake, arise, or be for
ever fallen!
marle, the lost Archangel made his way to the shore of "that inflamed
sea," and called aloud to his associates, to "Awake, arise, or be for
ever fallen!
World's Greatest Books - Volume 17 - Poetry and Drama
He also collaborated with other authors, particularly with
Fletcher (see Vol. XVI, p. 133) in whose grave he was buried on March
18, 1639. It is certain, however, that he wrote single-handed fifteen
plays, of which the best known is the masterly and satirical comedy,
"A New Way to Pay Old Debts. " Printed in 1633, but probably written
between 1625 and 1626, the piece retained its popularity longer than
any other of Massinger's plays. The construction is ingenious, the
dialogue witty, but the _dramatis personae_, with the exception of Sir
Giles Overreach, are feeble and without vitality.
JOHN MILTON[AA]
Paradise Lost
_I. --The Army of the Rebel Angels_
The poem opens with an invocation to the Heavenly Muse for
enlightenment and inspiration.
Of Man's first disobedience, and the fruit
Of that forbidden tree whose mortal taste
Brought death into the World, and all our woe,
With loss of Eden, till one greater Man
Restore us, and regain the blissful seat,
Sing, Heavenly Muse, that, on the secret top
Of Horeb, or of Sinai, didst inspire
That Shepherd who first taught the chosen seed
In the beginning how the heavens and earth
Rose out of Chaos; or, if Sion's hill
Delight thee more, and Siloa's brook that flowed
Fast by the oracle of God, I thence
Invoke thy aid to my adventurous song,
That with no middle flight intends to soar
Above the Aonian mount, while it pursues
Things unattempted yet in prose or rhyme.
And chiefly Thou, O Spirit, that dost prefer
Before all temples the upright heart and pure,
Instruct me, for Thou know'st; Thou from the first
Wast present, and, with mighty wings outspread,
Dove-like sat'st brooding on the vast Abyss,
And mad'st it pregnant: what in me is dark
Illumine, what is low raise and support;
That, to the highth of this great argument,
I may assert Eternal Providence,
And justify the ways of God to men.
Say first--for Heaven hides nothing from thy view,
Nor the deep tract of Hell--say first what cause
Moved our grand Parents, in that happy state,
Favoured of Heaven so highly, to fall off
From their Creator, and trangress his will.
The infernal serpent; he it was whose guile,
Stirred up with envy and revenge, deceived
The mother of mankind, what time his pride
Had cast him out from Heaven, with all his host
Of rebel angels. Him the Almighty Power
Hurled headlong flaming from the ethereal sky,
With hideous ruin and combustion, down
To bottomless perdition, there to dwell
In adamantine chains and penal fire,
Who durst defy the Omnipotent to arms.
For nine days and nights the apostate Angel lay silent, "rolling in
the fiery gulf," and then, looking round, he discerned by his side
Beelzebub, "one next himself in power and next in crime. " With him he
took counsel, and rearing themselves from off the pool of fire they
found footing on a dreary plain.
Walking with uneasy steps the burning
marle, the lost Archangel made his way to the shore of "that inflamed
sea," and called aloud to his associates, to "Awake, arise, or be for
ever fallen! " They heard, and gathered about him, all who were "known
to men by various names and various idols through the heathen world,"
but with looks "downcast and damp. " He--
Then straight commands that, at the warlike sound
Of trumpets loud and clarions, be upreared
His mighty standard. That proud honour claimed
Azazel as his right, a cherub tall,
Who forthwith from the glittering staff unfurled
The imperial ensign. . . .
At which the universal host up-sent
A shout that tore Hell's conclave, and beyond
Frighted the reign of Chaos and old Night.
The mighty host now circled in orderly array about "their dread
Commander. "
He, above the rest
In shape and gesture proudly eminent,
Stood like a tower. His form had not yet lost
All its original brightness, nor appeared
Less than an Archangel ruined, and the excess
Of glory obscured: as when the sun new-risen
Looks through the horizontal misty air
Shorn of his beams, or, from behind the moon,
In dim eclipse, disastrous twilight sheds
On half the nations, and with fear of change
Perplexes monarchs. Darkened so, yet shone
Above them all the Archangel. But his face
Deep scars of thunder had intrenched, and care
Sat on his faded cheek, but under brows
Of dauntless courage, and considerate pride,
Waiting revenge. . . .
Fletcher (see Vol. XVI, p. 133) in whose grave he was buried on March
18, 1639. It is certain, however, that he wrote single-handed fifteen
plays, of which the best known is the masterly and satirical comedy,
"A New Way to Pay Old Debts. " Printed in 1633, but probably written
between 1625 and 1626, the piece retained its popularity longer than
any other of Massinger's plays. The construction is ingenious, the
dialogue witty, but the _dramatis personae_, with the exception of Sir
Giles Overreach, are feeble and without vitality.
JOHN MILTON[AA]
Paradise Lost
_I. --The Army of the Rebel Angels_
The poem opens with an invocation to the Heavenly Muse for
enlightenment and inspiration.
Of Man's first disobedience, and the fruit
Of that forbidden tree whose mortal taste
Brought death into the World, and all our woe,
With loss of Eden, till one greater Man
Restore us, and regain the blissful seat,
Sing, Heavenly Muse, that, on the secret top
Of Horeb, or of Sinai, didst inspire
That Shepherd who first taught the chosen seed
In the beginning how the heavens and earth
Rose out of Chaos; or, if Sion's hill
Delight thee more, and Siloa's brook that flowed
Fast by the oracle of God, I thence
Invoke thy aid to my adventurous song,
That with no middle flight intends to soar
Above the Aonian mount, while it pursues
Things unattempted yet in prose or rhyme.
And chiefly Thou, O Spirit, that dost prefer
Before all temples the upright heart and pure,
Instruct me, for Thou know'st; Thou from the first
Wast present, and, with mighty wings outspread,
Dove-like sat'st brooding on the vast Abyss,
And mad'st it pregnant: what in me is dark
Illumine, what is low raise and support;
That, to the highth of this great argument,
I may assert Eternal Providence,
And justify the ways of God to men.
Say first--for Heaven hides nothing from thy view,
Nor the deep tract of Hell--say first what cause
Moved our grand Parents, in that happy state,
Favoured of Heaven so highly, to fall off
From their Creator, and trangress his will.
The infernal serpent; he it was whose guile,
Stirred up with envy and revenge, deceived
The mother of mankind, what time his pride
Had cast him out from Heaven, with all his host
Of rebel angels. Him the Almighty Power
Hurled headlong flaming from the ethereal sky,
With hideous ruin and combustion, down
To bottomless perdition, there to dwell
In adamantine chains and penal fire,
Who durst defy the Omnipotent to arms.
For nine days and nights the apostate Angel lay silent, "rolling in
the fiery gulf," and then, looking round, he discerned by his side
Beelzebub, "one next himself in power and next in crime. " With him he
took counsel, and rearing themselves from off the pool of fire they
found footing on a dreary plain.
Walking with uneasy steps the burning
marle, the lost Archangel made his way to the shore of "that inflamed
sea," and called aloud to his associates, to "Awake, arise, or be for
ever fallen! " They heard, and gathered about him, all who were "known
to men by various names and various idols through the heathen world,"
but with looks "downcast and damp. " He--
Then straight commands that, at the warlike sound
Of trumpets loud and clarions, be upreared
His mighty standard. That proud honour claimed
Azazel as his right, a cherub tall,
Who forthwith from the glittering staff unfurled
The imperial ensign. . . .
At which the universal host up-sent
A shout that tore Hell's conclave, and beyond
Frighted the reign of Chaos and old Night.
The mighty host now circled in orderly array about "their dread
Commander. "
He, above the rest
In shape and gesture proudly eminent,
Stood like a tower. His form had not yet lost
All its original brightness, nor appeared
Less than an Archangel ruined, and the excess
Of glory obscured: as when the sun new-risen
Looks through the horizontal misty air
Shorn of his beams, or, from behind the moon,
In dim eclipse, disastrous twilight sheds
On half the nations, and with fear of change
Perplexes monarchs. Darkened so, yet shone
Above them all the Archangel. But his face
Deep scars of thunder had intrenched, and care
Sat on his faded cheek, but under brows
Of dauntless courage, and considerate pride,
Waiting revenge. . . .
