Paradise Lost + Paradise Regained (2 Unabridged Classics + Original Illustrations by Gustave Doré). Джон Мильтон

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      Hell-doomd, and breath’st defiance here and scorn,

      Where I reign King, and to enrage thee more,

      Thy King and Lord? Back to thy punishment,

      False fugitive, and to thy speed add wings,

      Least with a whip of Scorpions I pursue

      Thy lingring, or with one stroke of this Dart

      Strange horror seise thee, and pangs unfelt before.

      So spake the grieslie terrour, and in shape,

      So speaking and so threatning, grew ten fold

      More dreadful and deform: on th’ other side

      Incenc’t with indignation Satan stood

      Unterrifi’d, and like a Comet burn’d,

      That fires the length of Ophiucus huge

      In th’ Artick Sky, and from his horrid hair

      Shakes Pestilence and Warr. Each at the Head

      Level’d his deadly aime; thir fatall hands

      No second stroke intend, and such a frown

      Each cast at th’ other, as when two black Clouds

      With Heav’ns Artillery fraught, come rattling on

      Over the Caspian, then stand front to front

      Hov’ring a space, till Winds the signal blow

      To joyn thir dark Encounter in mid air:

      So frownd the mighty Combatants, that Hell

      Grew darker at thir frown, so matcht they stood;

      For never but once more was either like

      To meet so great a foe: and now great deeds

      Had been achiev’d, whereof all Hell had rung,

      Had not the Snakie Sorceress that sat

      Fast by Hell Gate, and kept the fatal Key,

      Ris’n, and with hideous outcry rush’d between.

      O Father, what intends thy hand, she cry’d,

      Against thy only Son? What fury O Son,

      Possesses thee to bend that mortal Dart

      Against thy Fathers head? and know’st for whom;

      For him who sits above and laughs the while

      At thee ordain’d his drudge, to execute

      What e’re his wrath, which he calls Justice, bids,

      His wrath which one day will destroy ye both.

      She spake, and at her words the hellish Pest

      Forbore, then these to her Satan return’d:

      So strange thy outcry, and thy words so strange

      Thou interposest, that my sudden hand

      Prevented spares to tell thee yet by deeds

      What it intends; till first know of thee,

      What thing thou art, thus double-form’d, and why

      In this infernal Vaile first met thou call’st

      Me Father, and that Fantasm call’st my Son?

      I know thee not, nor ever saw till now

      Sight more detestable then him and thee.

      T’whom thus the Portress of Hell Gate reply’d;

      Hast thou forgot me then, and do I seem

      Now in thine eye so foul, once deemd so fair

      In Heav’n, when at th’ Assembly, and in sight

      Of all the Seraphim with thee combin’d

      In bold conspiracy against Heav’ns King,

      All on a sudden miserable pain

      Surpris’d thee, dim thine eyes, and dizzie swum

      In darkness, while thy head flames thick and fast

      Threw forth, till on the left side op’ning wide,

      Likest to thee in shape and count’nance bright,

      Then shining heav’nly fair, a Goddess arm’d

      Out of thy head I sprung; amazement seis’d

      All th’ Host of Heav’n; back they recoild affraid

      At first, and call’d me Sin, and for a Sign

      Portentous held me; but familiar grown,

      I pleas’d, and with attractive graces won

      The most averse, thee chiefly, who full oft

      Thy self in me thy perfect image viewing

      Becam’st enamour’d, and such joy thou took’st

      With me in secret, that my womb conceiv’d

      A growing burden. Mean while Warr arose,

      And fields were fought in Heav’n; wherein remaind

      (For what could else) to our Almighty Foe

      Cleer Victory, to our part loss and rout

      Through all the Empyrean: down they fell

      Driv’n headlong from the Pitch of Heaven, down

      Into this Deep, and in the general fall

      I also; at which time this powerful Key

      Into my hand was giv’n, with charge to keep

      These Gates for ever shut, which none can pass

      Without my op’ning. Pensive here I sat

      Alone, but long I sat not, till my womb

      Pregnant by thee, and now excessive grown

      Prodigious motion felt and rueful throes.

      At last this odious offspring whom thou seest

      Thine СКАЧАТЬ