LITMIR.BIZ

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now ope thine eyes, and first behold Th’ effects which thy original crime hath wrought In some to spring from thee, who never touch’d Th’ excepted Tree, nor with the Snake conspir’d, Nor sinn’d thy sin, yet from that sin derive Corruption to bring forth more violent deeds.

      His eyes he op’nd, and beheld a field,

       Part arable and tilth, whereon were Sheaves

       New reapt, the other part sheep-walks and foulds;

       Ith’ midst an Altar as the Land-mark stood

       Rustic, of grassie sord; thither anon

       A sweatie Reaper from his Tillage brought

       First Fruits, the green Eare, and the yellow Sheaf,

       Uncull’d, as came to hand; a Shepherd next

       More meek came with the Firstlings of his Flock

       Choicest and best; then sacrificing, laid

       The Inwards and thir Fat, with Incense strew’d,

       On the cleft Wood, and all due Rites perform’d.

       His Offring soon propitious Fire from Heav’n

       Consum’d with nimble glance, and grateful steame;

       The others not, for his was not sincere;

       Whereat hee inlie rag’d, and as they talk’d,

       Smote him into the Midriff with a stone

       That beat out life; he fell, and deadly pale

       Groand out his Soul with gushing bloud effus’d.

       Much at that sight was Adam in his heart Dismai’d, and thus in haste to th’ Angel cri’d.

      O Teacher, some great mischief hath befall’n

       To that meek man, who well had sacrific’d;

       Is Pietie thus and pure Devotion paid?

      T’ whom Michael thus, hee also mov’d, repli’d. These two are Brethren, Adam, and to come Out of thy loyns; th’ unjust the just hath slain, For envie that his Brothers Offering found From Heav’n acceptance; but the bloodie Fact Will be aveng’d, and th’ others Faith approv’d Loose no reward, though here thou see him die, Rowling in dust and gore. To which our Sire.

      Alas, both for the deed and for the cause!

       But have I now seen Death? Is this the way

       I must return to native dust? O sight

       Of terrour, foul and ugly to behold,

       Horrid to think, how horrible to feel!

      To whom thus Michael. Death thou hast seen In his first shape on man; but many shapes Of Death, and many are the wayes that lead To his grim Cave, all dismal; yet to sense More terrible at th’ entrance then within. Some, as thou saw’st, by violent stroke shall die, By Fire, Flood, Famin, by Intemperance more In Meats and Drinks, which on the Earth shal bring Diseases dire, of which a monstrous crew Before thee shall appear; that thou mayst know What miserie th’ inabstinence of Eve Shall bring on men. Immediately a place Before his eyes appeard, sad, noysom, dark, A Lazar-house it seemd, wherein were laid Numbers of all diseas’d, all maladies Of gastly Spasm, or racking torture, qualmes Of heart-sick Agonie, all feavorous kinds, Convulsions, Epilepsies, fierce Catarrhs, Intestin Stone and Ulcer, Colic pangs, Dropsies, and Asthma’s, and Joint-racking Rheums. Dire was the tossing, deep the groans, despair Tended the sick busiest from Couch to Couch; And over them triumphant Death his Dart Shook, but delaid to strike, though oft invok’t With vows, as thir chief good, and final hope. Sight so deform what heart of Rock could long Drie-ey’d behold? Adam could not, but wept, Though not of Woman born; compassion quell’d His best of Man, and gave him up to tears A space, till firmer thoughts restraind excess, And scarce recovering words his plaint renew’d.

      O miserable Mankind, to what fall

       Degraded, to what wretched state reserv’d?

       Better end heer unborn. Why is life giv’n

       To be thus wrested from us? rather why

       Obtruded on us thus? who if we knew

       What we receive, would either not accept

       Life offer’d, or soon beg to lay it down,

       Glad to be so dismist in peace. Can thus

       Th’ Image of God in man created once

       So goodly and erect, though faultie since,

       To such unsightly sufferings be debas’t

       Under inhuman pains? Why should not Man,

       Retaining still Divine similitude

       In part, from such deformities be free,

       And for his Makers Image sake exempt?

      Thir Makers Image, answerd Michael, then Forsook them, when themselves they villifi’d To serve ungovern’d appetite, and took His Image whom they serv’d, a brutish vice, Inductive mainly to the sin of Eve. Therefore so abject is thir punishment, Disfiguring not Gods likeness, but thir own, Or if his likeness, by themselves defac’t While they pervert pure Natures healthful rules To loathsom sickness, worthily, since they Gods Image did not reverence in themselves.

      I yeild it just, said Adam, and submit. But is there yet no other way, besides These painful passages, how we may come To Death, and mix with our connatural dust?

      There is, said Michael, if thou well observe The rule of not too much, by temperance taught In what thou eatst and drinkst, seeking from thence Due nourishment, not gluttonous delight, Till many years over thy head return: So maist thou live, till like ripe Fruit thou drop Into thy Mothers lap, or be with ease Gatherd, not harshly pluckt, for death mature: This is old age; but then thou must outlive Thy youth, thy strength, thy beauty, which will change To witherd weak & gray; thy Senses then Obtuse, all taste of pleasure must forgoe, To what thou hast, and for the Aire of youth Hopeful and cheerful, in thy blood will reigne A melancholly damp of cold and dry To waigh thy spirits down, and last consume The Balme of Life. To whom our Ancestor.

      Henceforth I flie not Death, nor would prolong

       Life much, bent rather how I may be quit

       Fairest and easiest of this combrous charge,

       Which I must keep till my appointed day

       Of rendring up. Michael to him repli’d.

      Nor love thy Life, nor hate; but what thou livst

       Live well, how long or short permit to Heav’n:

       And now prepare thee for another sight.

      He lookd and saw a spacious Plaine, whereon

       Were Tents of various hue; by some were herds

       Of Cattel grazing: others, whence the sound

       Of Instruments that made melodious chime

       Was heard, of Harp and Organ; and who moovd

       Thir stops and chords was seen: his volant touch

       Instinct through all proportions low and high

       Fled and pursu’d transverse the resonant fugue.

       In other part stood one who at the Forge

       Labouring, two massie clods of Iron and Brass

       Had melted (whether found where casual fire

       Had wasted woods on Mountain or in Vale,

       Down to the veins of Earth, thence gliding hot

       To som Caves mouth, or whether washt by stream

       From underground) the liquid Ore he dreind

       Into fit moulds prepar’d; from which he formd

       First his own Tooles; then, what might else be wrought

      

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