Act 5 — ACT V. SCENE I.—Paradise.

Eve, with a bough in her hand.

Eve. Methinks I tread more lightly on the ground; My nimble feet from unhurt flowers rebound: I walk in air, and scorn this earthly seat; Heaven is my palace; this my base retreat. Take me not, heaven, too soon; 'twill be unkind To leave the partner of my bed behind. I love the wretch; but stay, shall I afford Him part? already he's too much my lord. 'Tis in my power to be a sovereign now; And, knowing more, to make his manhood bow. Empire is sweet; but how if heaven has spied? If I should die, and He above provide Some other Eve, and place her in my stead? Shall she possess his love, when I am dead? No; he shall eat, and die with me, or live: Our equal crimes shall equal fortune give.

Enter Adam.

Adam. What joy, without your sight, has earth, in store! While you were absent, Eden was no more. Winds murmured through the leaves your long delay, And fountains, o'er the pebbles, chid your stay: But with your presence cheered, they cease to mourn, And walks wear fresher green at your return.

Eve. Henceforth you never shall have cause to chide; No future absence shall our joys divide: 'Twas a short death my love ne'er tried before, And therefore strange; but yet the cause was more.

Adam. My trembling heart forebodes some ill; I fear To ask that cause which I desire to hear. What means that lovely fruit? what means, alas! That blood, which flushes guilty in your face? Speak—do not—yet, at last, I must be told.

Eve. Have courage, then: 'tis manly to be bold. This fruit—why dost thou shake? no death is nigh: 'Tis what I tasted first; yet do not die.

Adam. Is it—(I dare not ask it all at first; Doubt is some ease to those who fear the worst:) Say, 'tis not—

Eve. 'Tis not what thou needst to fear: What danger does in this fair fruit appear? We have been cozened; and had still been so, Had I not ventured boldly first to know. Yet, not I first; I almost blush to say, The serpent eating taught me first the way. The serpent tasted, and the godlike fruit Gave the dumb voice; gave reason to the brute.

Adam. O fairest of all creatures, last and best Of what heaven made, how art them dispossest Of all thy native glories! fallen! decayed! (Pity so rare a frame so frail was made) Now cause of thy own ruin; and with thine, (Ah, who can live without thee!) cause of mine.

Eve. Reserve thy pity till I want it more: I know myself much happier than before; More wise, more perfect, all I wish to be, Were I but sure, alas! of pleasing thee.

Adam. You've shown, how much you my content design: Yet, ah! would heaven's displeasure pass like mine! Must I without you, then, in wild woods dwell? Think, and but think, of what I loved so well? Condemned to live with subjects ever mute; A savage prince, unpleased, though absolute?

Eve. Please then yourself with me, and freely taste, Lest I, without you, should to godhead haste: Lest, differing in degree, you claim too late Unequal love, when 'tis denied by fate.

Adam. Cheat not yourself with dreams of deity; Too well, but yet too late, your crime I see: Nor think the fruit your knowledge does improve; But you have beauty still, and I have love. Not cozened, I with choice my life resign: Imprudence was your fault, but love was mine. [Takes the fruit and eats it.

Eve. O wondrous power of matchless love exprest! [Embracing him. Why was this trial thine, of loving best? I envy thee that lot; and could it be, Would venture something more than death for thee. Not that I fear, that death the event can prove; Ware both immortal, while so well we love.

Adam. Whate'er shall be the event, the lot is cast; Where appetites are given, what sin to taste? Or if a sin, 'tis but by precept such; The offence so small, the punishment's too much. To seek so soon his new-made world's decay: Nor we, nor that, were fashioned for a day.

Eve. Give to the winds thy fear of death, or ill; And think us made but for each other's will.

Adam. I will, at least, defer that anxious thought, And death, by fear, shall not be nigher brought: If he will come, let us to joys make haste; Then let him seize us when our pleasure's past. We'll take up all before; and death shall find We have drained life, and left a void behind.[Exeunt.

Enter Lucifer.

Lucif. 'Tis done: Sick Nature, at that instant, trembled round; And mother Earth sighed, as she felt the wound. Of how short durance was this new-made state! How far more mighty than heaven's love, hell's hate! His project ruined, and his king of clay: He formed an empire for his foe to sway. Heaven let him rule, which by his arms he got; I'm pleased to have obtained the second lot. This earth is mine; whose lord I made my thrall: Annexing to my crown his conquered ball. Loosed from the lakes my regions I will lead, And o'er the darkened air black banners spread: Contagious damps, from hence, shall mount above, And force him to his inmost heaven's remove. [A clap of thunder is heard. He hears already, and I boast too soon; I dread that engine which secured his throne. I'll dive below his wrath, into the deep, And waste that empire, which I cannot keep.[Sinks down.

Raphael and Gabriel descend.

Raph. As much of grief as happiness admits In heaven, on each celestial forehead sits: Kindness for man, and pity for his fate, May mix with bliss, and yet not violate. Their heavenly harps a lower strain began; And, in soft music, mourned the fall of man.

Gab. I saw the angelic guards from earth ascend, (Grieved they must now no longer man attend:) The beams about their temples dimly shone; One would have thought the crime had been their own. The etherial people flocked for news in haste, Whom they, with down-cast looks, and scarce saluting past: While each did, in his pensive breast, prepare A sad account of their successless care.

Raph. The Eternal yet, in majesty severe, And strictest justice, did mild pity bear: Their deaths deferred; and banishment, (their doom,) In penitence foreseen, leaves mercy room.

Gab. That message is thy charge: Mine leads me hence; Placed at the garden's gate, for its defence, Lest man, returning, the blest place pollute, And 'scape from death, by life's immortal fruit. [Another clap of thunder. Exeunt severally.

Enter Adam and Eve, affrighted.

Adam. In what dark cavern shall I hide my head? Where seek retreat, now innocence is fled? Safe in that guard, I durst even hell defy; Without it, tremble now, when heaven is nigh.

Eve. What shall we do? or where direct our flight? Eastward, as far as I could cast my sight, From opening heavens, I saw descending light. Its glittering through the trees I still behold; The cedar tops seem all to burn with gold.

Adam. Some shape divine, whose beams I cannot bear! Would I were hid, where light could not appear. Deep into some thick covert would I run, Impenetrable to the stars or sun, And fenced from day, by night's eternal skreen; Unknown to heaven, and to myself unseen.

Eve. In vain: What hope to shun his piercing sight, Who from dark chaos struck the sparks of light?

Adam. These should have been your thoughts, when, parting hence, You trusted to your guideless innocence. See now the effects of your own wilful mind: Guilt walks before us; death pursues behind. So fatal 'twas to seek temptations out: Most confidence has still most cause to doubt.

Eve. Such might have been thy hap, alone assailed; And so, together, might we both have failed. Cursed vassalage of all my future kind! First idolized, till love's hot fire be o'er, Then slaves to those who courted us before.

Adam. I counselled you to stay; your pride refused: By your own lawless will you stand accused.

Eve. Have you that privilege of only wise, And would you yield to her you so despise? You should have shown the authority you boast, And, sovereign-like, my headlong will have crost: Counsel was not enough to sway my heart; An absolute restraint had been your part.

Adam. Even such returns do they deserve to find, When force is lawful, who are fondly kind. Unlike my love; for when thy guilt I knew, I shared the curse which did that crime pursue. Hard fate of love! which rigour did forbear, And now 'tis taxed, because 'twas not severe.

Eve. You have yourself your kindness overpaid; He ceases to oblige, who can upbraid.

Adam. On women's virtue, who too much rely, To boundless will give boundless liberty. Restraint you will not brook; but think it hard Your prudence is not trusted as your guard: And, to yourselves so left, if ill ensues, You first our weak indulgence will accuse. Curst be that hour, When, sated with my single happiness, I chose a partner, to controul my bliss! Who wants that reason which her will should sway, And knows but just enough to disobey.

Eve. Better with brutes my humble lot had gone; Of reason void, accountable for none: The unhappiest of creation is a wife, Made lowest, in the highest rank of life: Her fellow's slave; to know, and not to chuse: Curst with that reason she must never use.

Adam. Add, that she's proud, fantastic, apt to change, Restless at home, and ever prone to range: With shows delighted, and so vain is she, She'll meet the devil, rather than not see. Our wise Creator, for his choirs divine, Peopled his heaven with souls all masculine.— Ah! why must man from woman take his birth? Why was this sin of nature made on earth? This fair defect, this helpless aid, called wife; The bending crutch of a decrepid life? Posterity no pairs from you shall find, But such as by mistake of love are joined: The worthiest men their wishes ne'er shall gain; But see the slaves they scorn their loves obtain. Blind appetite shall your wild fancies rule; False to desert, and faithful to a fool. [Turns in anger from her, and is going off.

Eve. Unkind! wilt thou forsake me, in distress, [Kneeling. For that which now is past me to redress? I have misdone, and I endure the smart, Loth to acknowledge, but more loth to part. The blame be mine; you warned, and I refused: What would you more? I have myself accused. Was plighted faith so weakly sealed above, That, for one error, I must lose your love? Had you so erred, I should have been more kind, Than to add pain to an afflicted mind.

Adam. You're grown much humbler than you were before; I pardon you; but see my face no more.

Eve. Vain pardon, which includes a greater ill; Be still displeased, but let me see you still. Without your much-loved sight I cannot live; You more than kill me, if you so forgive. The beasts, since we are fallen, their lords despise; And, passing, look at me with glaring eyes: Must I then wander helpless, and alone? You'll pity me, too late, when I am gone.

Adam. Your penitence does my compassion move; As you deserve it, I may give my love.

Eve. On me, alone, let heaven's displeasure fall; You merit none, and I deserve it all.

Adam. You all heaven's wrath! how could you bear a part, Who bore not mine, but with a bleeding heart? I was too stubborn, thus to make you sue; Forgive me—I am more in fault than you. Return to me, and to my love return; And, both offending, for each other mourn.

Enter Raphael.

Raph. Of sin to warn thee I before was sent; For sin, I now pronounce thy punishment: Yet that much lighter than thy crimes require; Th' All-good does not his creatures' death desire: Justice must punish the rebellious deed; Yet punish so, as pity shall exceed.

Adam. I neither can dispute his will, nor dare: Death will dismiss me from my future care, And lay me softly in my native dust, To pay the forfeit of ill-managed trust.

Eve. Why seek you death? consider, ere you speak, The laws were hard, the power to keep them, weak. Did we solicit heaven to mould our clay? From darkness to produce us to the day? Did we concur to life, or chuse to be? Was it our will which formed, or was it He? Since 'twas his choice, not ours, which placed us here, The laws we did not chuse why should we bear?

Adam. Seek not, in vain, our Maker to accuse; Terms were proposed; power left us to refuse. The good we have enjoyed from heaven's free will, And shall we murmur to endure the ill? Should we a rebel son's excuse receive, Because he was begot without his leave? Heaven's right in us is more: first, formed to serve; The good, we merit not; the ill, deserve.

Raph. Death is deferred, and penitence has room To mitigate, if not reverse the doom: But, for your crime, the Eternal does ordain In Eden you no longer shall remain. Hence, to the lower world, you are exiled; This place with crimes shall be no more defiled.

Eve. Must we this blissful paradise forego?

Raph. Your lot must be where thorns and thistles grow, Unhid, as balm and spices did at first; For man, the earth, of which he was, is cursed. By thy own toil procured, thou food shalt eat;[To Adam. And know no plenty, but from painful sweat. She, by a curse, of future wives abhorred, Shall pay obedience to her lawful lord; And he shall rule, and she in thraldom live, Desiring more of love than man can give.

Adam. Heaven is all mercy; labour I would chuse; And could sustain this paradise to lose: The bliss, but not the place: Here, could I say, Heaven's winged messenger did pass the day; Under this pine the glorious angel staid: Then, show my wondering progeny the shade. In woods and lawns, where-e'er thou didst appear, Each place some monument of thee should bear. I, with green turfs, would grateful altars raise, And heaven, with gums, and offered incense, praise.

Raph. Where-e'er thou art, He is; the Eternal Mind Acts through all places; is to none confined: Fills ocean, earth, and air, and all above, And through the universal mass does move. Thou canst be no where distant: Yet this place Had been thy kingly seat, and here thy race, From all the ends of peopled earth had come To reverence thee, and see their native home. Immortal, then; now sickness, care, and age, And war, and luxury's more direful rage, Thy crimes have brought, to shorten mortal breath, With all the numerous family of death.

Eve. My spirits faint, while I these ills foreknow, And find myself the sad occasion too. But what is death?

Raph. In vision thou shalt see his griesly face, The king of terrors, raging in thy face. That, while in future fate thou shar'st thy part, A kind remorse, for sin, may seize thy heart.

The Scene shifts, and discovers deaths of several sorts. A Battle at Land, and a Naval Fight.

Adam. O wretched offspring! O unhappy state Of all mankind, by me betrayed to fate! Born, through my crime, to be offenders first; And, for those sins they could not shun, accurst.

Eve. Why is life forced on man, who, might he chuse, Would not accept what he with pain must lose? Unknowing, he receives it; and when, known, He thinks it his, and values it, 'tis gone.

Raph. Behold of every age; ripe manhood see, Decrepid years, and helpless infancy: Those who, by lingering sickness, lose their breath; And those who, by despair, suborn their death: See yon mad fools, who for some trivial right, For love, or for mistaken honour, fight: See those, more mad, who throw their lives away In needless wars; the stakes which monarchs lay, When for each other's provinces they play. Then, as if earth too narrow were for fate, On open seas their quarrels they debate: In hollow wood they floating armies bear; And force imprisoned winds to bring them near.

Eve. Who would the miseries of man foreknow? Not knowing, we but share our part of woe: Now, we the fate of future ages bear, And, ere their birth, behold our dead appear.

Adam. The deaths, thou show'st, are forced and full of strife, Cast headlong from the precipice of life. Is there no smooth descent? no painless way Of kindly mixing with our native clay?

Raph. There is; but rarely shall that path be trod, Which, without horror, leads to death's abode. Some few, by temperance taught, approaching slow, To distant fate by easy journies go: Gently they lay them down, as evening sheep On their own woolly fleeces softly sleep.

Adam. So noiseless would I live, such death to find; Like timely fruit, not shaken by the wind, But ripely dropping from the sapless bough, And, dying, nothing to myself would owe.

Eve. Thus, daily changing, with a duller taste Of lessening joys, I, by degrees, would waste: Still quitting ground, by unperceived decay, And steal myself from life, and melt away.

Raph. Death you have seen: Now see your race revive, How happy they in deathless pleasures live; Far more than I can show, or you can see, Shall crown the blest with immortality.

Here a Heaven descends, full of Angels, and blessed Spirits, with soft Music, a Song and Chorus.

Adam. O goodness infinite! whose heavenly will Can so much good produce from so much ill! Happy their state! Pure, and unchanged, and needing no defence From sins, as did my frailer innocence. Their joy sincere, and with no sorrow mixt: Eternity stands permanent and fixt, And wheels no longer on the poles of time; Secure from fate, and more secure from crime.

Eve. Ravished with joy, I can but half repent The sin, which heaven makes happy in the event.

Raph. Thus armed, meet firmly your approaching ill; For see, the guards, from yon' far eastern hill, Already move, nor longer stay afford; High in the air they wave the flaming sword, Your signal to depart; now down amain They drive, and glide, like meteors, through the plain.

Adam. Then farewell all; I will indulgent be To my own ease, and not look back to see. When what we love we ne'er must meet again, To lose the thought is to remove the pain.

Eve. Farewell, you happy shades! Where angels first should practise hymns, and string Their tuneful harps, when they to heaven would sing. Farewell, you flowers, whose buds, with early care, I watched, and to the chearful sun did rear: Who now shall bind your stems? or, when you fall, With fountain streams your fainting souls recal? A long farewell to thee, my nuptial bower, Adorned with every fair and fragrant flower! And last, farewell, farewell my place of birth! I go to wander in the lower earth, As distant as I can; for, dispossest, Farthest from what I once enjoyed, is best.

Raph. The rising winds urge the tempestuous air; And on their wings deformed winter bear: The beasts already feel the change; and hence They fly to deeper coverts, for defence: The feebler herd before the stronger run; For now the war of nature is begun: But, part you hence in peace, and, having mourned your sin, For outward Eden lost, find Paradise within.[Exeunt.