第7章 6
He ended; and th Arch-Angel soon drew nigh,
Not in his shape Celestial, but as Man
Clad to meet Man; over his lucid Armes [ 240 ]
A militarie Vest of purple flowd
Livelier then Melibœan, or the graine
Of Sarra, worn by Kings and Heros old
In time of Truce; Iris had dipt the wooff;
His starrie Helme unbuckld shewd him prime [ 245 ]
In Manhood where Youth ended; by his side
As in a glistering Zodiac hung the Sword,
Satans dire dread, and in his hand the Spear.
Adam bowd low, hee Kingly from his State
Inclind not, but his coming thus declard. [ 250 ]
Adam, Heavns high behest no Preface needs:
Sufficient that thy Prayers are heard, and Death,
Then due by sentence when thou didst transgress,
Defeated of his seisure many dayes
Givn thee of Grace, wherein thou mayst repent, [ 255 ]
And one bad act with many deeds well done
Mayst cover: well may then thy Lord appeasd
Redeem thee quite from Deaths rapacious claime;
But longer in this Paradise to dwell
Permits not; to remove thee I am come, [ 260 ]
And send thee from the Garden forth to till
The ground whence thou wast takn, fitter Soile.
He added not, for Adam at the newes
Heart-strook with chilling gripe of sorrow stood,
That all his senses bound; Eve, who unseen [ 265 ]
Yet all had heard, with audible lament
Discoverd soon the place of her retire.
O unexpected stroke, worse then of Death!
Must I thus leave thee Paradise? thus leave
Thee Native Soile, these happie Walks and Shades, [ 270 ]
Fit haunt of Gods? where I had hope to spend,
Quiet though sad, the respit of that day
That must be mortal to us both. O flours,
That never will in other Climate grow,
My early visitation, and my last [ 275 ]
At Eevn, which I bred up with tender hand
From the first opning bud, and gave ye Names,
Who now shall reare ye to the Sun, or ranke
Your Tribes, and water from th ambrosial Fount?
Thee lastly nuptial Bowre, by mee adornd [ 280 ]
With what to sight or smell was sweet; from thee
How shall I part, and whither wander down
Into a lower World, to this obscure
And wilde, how shall we breath in other Aire
Less pure, accustomd to immortal Fruits? [ 285 ]
Whom thus the Angel interrupted milde.