Paradise Lost and Paradise Regained. Джон Мильтон

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      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 availed 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 confer

      Their state-affairs: so thick the airy crowd

      Swarmed and were straitened; till, the signal given,

      Behold a wonder! They but now who seemed

      In bigness to surpass Earth’s giant sons,

      Now less than smallest dwarfs, in narrow room

      Throng numberless—like that pygmean race

      Beyond the Indian mount; or faery elves,

      Whose midnight revels, by a forest-side

      Or fountain, some belated peasant sees,

      Or dreams he sees, while overhead the Moon

      Sits arbitress, and nearer to the Earth

      Wheels her pale course: they, on their mirth and dance

      Intent, with jocund music charm his ear;

      At once with joy and fear his heart rebounds.

      Thus incorporeal Spirits to smallest forms

      Reduced their shapes immense, and were at large,

      Though without number still, amidst the hall

      Of that infernal court. But far within,

      And in their own dimensions like themselves,

      The great Seraphic Lords and Cherubim

      In close recess and secret conclave sat,

      A thousand demi-gods on golden seats,

      Frequent and full. After short silence then,

      And summons read, the great consult began.

BOOK II

      High on a throne of royal state, which far

      Outshone the wealth or Ormus and of Ind,

      Or where the gorgeous East with richest hand

      Showers on her kings barbaric pearl and gold,

      Satan exalted sat, by merit raised

      To that bad eminence; and, from despair

      Thus high uplifted beyond hope, aspires

      Beyond thus high, insatiate to pursue

      Vain war with Heaven; and, by success untaught,

      His proud imaginations thus displayed:—

      “Powers and Dominions, Deities of Heaven!—

      For, since no deep within her gulf can hold

      Immortal vigour, though oppressed and fallen,

      I give not Heaven for lost: from this descent

      Celestial Virtues rising will appear

      More glorious and more dread than from no fall,

      And trust themselves to fear no second fate!—

      Me though just right, and the fixed laws of Heaven,

      Did first create your leader—next, free choice

      With what besides in council or in fight

      Hath been achieved of merit—yet this loss,

      Thus far at least recovered, hath much more

      Established in a safe, unenvied throne,

      Yielded with full consent. The happier state

      In Heaven, which follows dignity, might draw

      Envy from each inferior; but who here

      Will envy whom the highest place exposes

      Foremost to stand against the Thunderer’s aim

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