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    Book IV

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    Perplexed and troubled at his bad success
    The Tempter stood, nor had what to reply,
    Discovered in his fraud, thrown from his hope
    So oft, and the persuasive rhetoric
    That sleeked his tongue, and won so much on Eve,
    So little here, nay lost. But Eve was Eve;
    This far his over-match, who, self-deceived
    And rash, beforehand had no better weighed
    The strength he was to cope with, or his own.
    But--as a man who had been matchless held
    In cunning, over-reached where least he thought,
    To salve his credit, and for very spite,
    Still will be tempting him who foils him still,
    And never cease, though to his shame the more;
    Or as a swarm of flies in vintage-time,
    About the wine-press where sweet must is poured,
    Beat off, returns as oft with humming sound;
    Or surging waves against a solid rock,
    Though all to shivers dashed, the assault renew,
    (Vain battery!) and in froth or bubbles end--
    So Satan, whom repulse upon repulse
    Met ever, and to shameful silence brought,
    Yet gives not o'er, though desperate of success,
    And his vain importunity pursues.
    He brought our Saviour to the western side
    Of that high mountain, whence he might behold
    Another plain, long, but in breadth not wide,
    Washed by the southern sea, and on the north
    To equal length backed with a ridge of hills
    That screened the fruits of the earth and seats of men
    From cold Septentrion blasts; thence in the midst
    Divided by a river, off whose banks
    On each side an Imperial City stood,
    With towers and temples proudly elevate
    On seven small hills, with palaces adorned,
    Porches and theatres, baths, aqueducts,
    Statues and trophies, and triumphal arcs,
    Gardens and groves, presented to his eyes
    Above the highth of mountains interposed--
    By what strange parallax, or optic skill
    Of vision, multiplied through air, or glass
    Of telescope, were curious to enquire.
    And now the Tempter thus his silence broke:--

    "The city which thou seest no other deem
    Than great and glorious Rome, Queen of the Earth
    So far renowned, and with the spoils enriched
    Of nations. There the Capitol thou seest,
    Above the rest lifting his stately head
    On the Tarpeian rock, her citadel
    Impregnable; and there Mount Palatine,

    The imperial palace, compass huge, and high
    The structure, skill of noblest architects,
    With gilded battlements, conspicuous far,
    Turrets, and terraces, and glittering spires.
    Many a fair edifice besides, more like
    Houses of gods--so well I have disposed
    My aerie microscope--thou may'st behold,
    Outside and inside both, pillars and roofs
    Carved work, the hand of famed artificers
    In cedar, marble, ivory, or gold.
    Thence to the gates cast round thine eye, and see
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