Paradise Lost | Page 9

may produce new Worlds; whereof so rife?There went a fame in Heaven that he ere long?Intended to create, and therein plant?A generation whom his choice regard?Should favour equal to the Sons of Heaven.?Thither, if but to pry, shall be perhaps?Our first eruption--thither, or elsewhere;?For this infernal pit shall never hold?Celestial Spirits in bondage, nor th' Abyss?Long under darkness cover. But these thoughts?Full counsel must mature. Peace is despaired;?For who can think submission? War, then, war?Open or understood, must be resolved."?He spake; and, to confirm his words, outflew?Millions of flaming swords, drawn from the thighs?Of mighty Cherubim; the sudden blaze?Far round illumined Hell. Highly they raged?Against the Highest, and fierce with grasped arms?Clashed on their sounding shields the din of war,?Hurling defiance toward the vault of Heaven.?There stood a hill not far, whose grisly top?Belched fire and rolling smoke; the rest entire?Shone with a glossy scurf--undoubted sign?That in his womb was hid metallic ore,?The work of sulphur. Thither, winged with speed,?A numerous brigade hastened: as when bands?Of pioneers, with spade and pickaxe armed,?Forerun the royal camp, to trench a field,?Or cast a rampart. Mammon led them on--?Mammon, the least erected Spirit that fell?From Heaven; for even in Heaven his looks and thoughts?Were always downward bent, admiring more?The riches of heaven's pavement, trodden gold,?Than aught divine or holy else enjoyed?In vision beatific. By him first?Men also, and by his suggestion taught,?Ransacked the centre, and with impious hands?Rifled the bowels of their mother Earth?For treasures better hid. Soon had his crew?Opened into the hill a spacious wound,?And digged out ribs of gold. Let none admire?That riches grow in Hell; that soil may best?Deserve the precious bane. And here let those?Who boast in mortal things, and wondering tell?Of Babel, and the works of Memphian kings,?Learn how their greatest monuments of fame?And strength, and art, are easily outdone?By Spirits reprobate, and in an hour?What in an age they, with incessant toil?And hands innumerable, scarce perform.?Nigh on the plain, in many cells prepared,?That underneath had veins of liquid fire?Sluiced from the lake, a second multitude?With wondrous art founded the massy ore,?Severing each kind, and scummed the bullion-dross.?A third as soon had formed within the ground?A various mould, and from the boiling cells?By strange conveyance filled each hollow nook;?As in an organ, from one blast of wind,?To many a row of pipes the sound-board breathes.?Anon out of the earth a fabric huge?Rose like an exhalation, with the sound?Of dulcet symphonies and voices sweet--?Built like a temple, where pilasters round?Were set, and Doric pillars overlaid?With golden architrave; nor did there want?Cornice or frieze, with bossy sculptures graven;?The roof was fretted gold. Not Babylon?Nor great Alcairo such magnificence?Equalled in all their glories, to enshrine?Belus or Serapis their gods, or seat?Their kings, when Egypt with Assyria strove?In wealth and luxury. Th' ascending pile?Stood fixed her stately height, and straight the doors,?Opening their brazen folds, discover, wide?Within, her ample spaces o'er the smooth?And level pavement: from the arched roof,?Pendent by subtle magic, many a row?Of starry lamps and blazing cressets, fed?With naptha and asphaltus, yielded light?As from a sky. The hasty multitude?Admiring entered; and the work some praise,?And some the architect. His hand was known?In Heaven by many a towered structure high,?Where sceptred Angels held their residence,?And sat as Princes, whom the supreme King?Exalted to such power, and gave to rule,?Each in his Hierarchy, the Orders bright.?Nor was his name unheard or unadored?In ancient Greece; and in Ausonian land?Men called him Mulciber; and how he fell?From Heaven they fabled, thrown by angry Jove?Sheer o'er the crystal battlements: from morn?To noon he fell, from noon to dewy eve,?A summer's day, and with the setting sun?Dropt from the zenith, like a falling star,?On Lemnos, th' Aegaean isle. Thus they relate,?Erring; for he with this rebellious rout?Fell long before; nor aught aviled him now?To have built in Heaven high towers; nor did he scape?By all his engines, but was headlong sent,?With his industrious crew, to build in Hell.?Meanwhile the winged Heralds, by command?Of sovereign power, with awful ceremony?And trumpet's sound, throughout the host proclaim?A solemn council forthwith to be held?At Pandemonium, the high capital?Of Satan and his peers. Their summons called?From every band and squared regiment?By place or choice the worthiest: they anon?With hundreds and with thousands trooping came?Attended. All access was thronged; the gates?And porches wide, but chief the spacious hall?(Though like a covered field, where champions bold?Wont ride in armed, and at the Soldan's chair?Defied the best of Paynim chivalry?To mortal combat, or career with lance),?Thick swarmed, both on the ground and in the air,?Brushed with the hiss of rustling wings. As bees?In spring-time, when the Sun with Taurus rides.?Pour forth their populous youth about the hive?In clusters; they among fresh dews and flowers?Fly to and fro, or on the smoothed plank,?The suburb of their straw-built citadel,?New rubbed with balm, expatiate, and