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    Chapter 2 - Page 2

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    and fury, all at once
    O'er Heaven's high towers to force resistless way,
    Turning our tortures into horrid arms
    Against the Torturer; when, to meet the noise
    Of his almighty engine, he shall hear
    Infernal thunder, and, for lightning, see
    Black fire and horror shot with equal rage
    Among his Angels, and his throne itself
    Mixed with Tartarean sulphur and strange fire,
    His own invented torments. But perhaps
    The way seems difficult, and steep to scale
    With upright wing against a higher foe!
    Let such bethink them, if the sleepy drench
    Of that forgetful lake benumb not still,
    That in our porper motion we ascend
    Up to our native seat; descent and fall
    To us is adverse. Who but felt of late,
    When the fierce foe hung on our broken rear
    Insulting, and pursued us through the Deep,
    With what compulsion and laborious flight
    We sunk thus low? Th' ascent is easy, then;
    Th' event is feared! Should we again provoke
    Our stronger, some worse way his wrath may find
    To our destruction, if there be in Hell
    Fear to be worse destroyed! What can be worse
    Than to dwell here, driven out from bliss, condemned
    In this abhorred deep to utter woe!
    Where pain of unextinguishable fire
    Must exercise us without hope of end
    The vassals of his anger, when the scourge
    Inexorably, and the torturing hour,
    Calls us to penance? More destroyed than thus,
    We should be quite abolished, and expire.
    What fear we then? what doubt we to incense
    His utmost ire? which, to the height enraged,
    Will either quite consume us, and reduce
    To nothing this essential--happier far
    Than miserable to have eternal being!--
    Or, if our substance be indeed divine,
    And cannot cease to be, we are at worst
    On this side nothing; and by proof we feel
    Our power sufficient to disturb his Heaven,
    And with perpetual inroads to alarm,
    Though inaccessible, his fatal throne:
    Which, if not victory, is yet revenge."
    He ended frowning, and his look denounced
    Desperate revenge, and battle dangerous
    To less than gods. On th' other side up rose
    Belial, in act more graceful and humane.
    A fairer person lost not Heaven; he seemed
    For dignity composed, and high exploit.
    But all was false and hollow; though his tongue

    Dropped manna, and could make the worse appear
    The better reason, to perplex and dash
    Maturest counsels: for his thoughts were low--
    To vice industrious, but to nobler deeds
    Timorous and slothful. Yet he pleased the ear,
    And with persuasive accent thus began:--
    "I should be much for open war, O Peers,
    As not behind in hate, if what was urged
    Main reason to persuade immediate war
    Did not dissuade me most, and seem to cast
    Ominous conjecture on the whole
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