第60章 Book 8(8)

Were it I thought Death menac't would ensue This my attempt, I would sustain alone The worst, and not perswade thee, rather die Deserted, then oblige thee with a fact Pernicious to thy Peace, chiefly assur'd Remarkably so late of thy so true, So faithful Love unequald; but I feel Farr otherwise th' event, not Death, but Life Augmented, op'nd Eyes, new Hopes, new Joyes, Taste so Divine, that what of sweet before Hath toucht my sense, flat seems to this, and harsh.

On my experience, ADAM, freely taste, And fear of Death deliver to the Windes.

So saying, she embrac'd him, and for joy Tenderly wept, much won that he his Love Had so enobl'd, as of choice to incurr Divine displeasure for her sake, or Death.

In recompence (for such compliance bad Such recompence best merits) from the bough She gave him of that fair enticing Fruit With liberal hand: he scrupl'd not to eat Against his better knowledge, not deceav'd, But fondly overcome with Femal charm.

Earth trembl'd from her entrails, as again In pangs, and Nature gave a second groan, Skie lowr'd, and muttering Thunder, som sad drops Wept at compleating of the mortal Sin Original; while ADAM took no thought, Eating his fill, nor EVE to iterate Her former trespass fear'd, the more to soothe Him with her lov'd societie, that now As with new Wine intoxicated both They swim in mirth, and fansie that they feel Divinitie within them breeding wings Wherewith to scorn the Earth: but that false Fruit Farr other operation first displaid, Carnal desire enflaming, hee on EVE Began to cast lascivious Eyes, she him As wantonly repaid; in Lust they burne:

Till ADAM thus 'gan EVE to dalliance move.

EVE, now I see thou art exact of taste, And elegant, of Sapience no small part, Since to each meaning savour we apply, And Palate call judicious; I the praise Yeild thee, so well this day thou hast purvey'd.

Much pleasure we have lost, while we abstain'd From this delightful Fruit, nor known till now True relish, tasting; if such pleasure be In things to us forbidden, it might be wish'd, For this one Tree had bin forbidden ten.

But come, so well refresh't, now let us play, As meet is, after such delicious Fare;

For never did thy Beautie since the day I saw thee first and wedded thee, adorn'd With all perfections, so enflame my sense With ardor to enjoy thee, fairer now Then ever, bountie of this vertuous Tree.

So said he, and forbore not glance or toy Of amorous intent, well understood Of EVE, whose Eye darted contagious Fire.

Her hand he seis'd, and to a shadie bank, Thick overhead with verdant roof imbowr'd He led her nothing loath; Flours were the Couch, Pansies, and Violets, and Asphodel, And Hyacinth, Earths freshest softest lap.

There they thir fill of Love and Loves disport Took largely, of thir mutual guilt the Seale, The solace of thir sin, till dewie sleep Oppress'd them, wearied with thir amorous play.

Soon as the force of that fallacious Fruit, That with exhilerating vapour bland About thir spirits had plaid, and inmost powers Made erre, was now exhal'd, and grosser sleep Bred of unkindly fumes, with conscious dreams Encumberd, now had left them, up they rose As from unrest, and each the other viewing, Soon found thir Eyes how op'nd, and thir minds How dark'nd; innocence, that as a veile Had shadow'd them from knowing ill, was gon, Just confidence, and native righteousness, And honour from about them, naked left To guiltie shame hee cover'd, but his Robe Uncover'd more. So rose the DANITE strong HERCULEAN SAMSON from the Harlot-lap Of PHILISTEAN DALILAH, and wak'd Shorn of his strength, They destitute and bare Of all thir vertue: silent, and in face Confounded long they sate, as struck'n mute, Till ADAM, though not less then EVE abasht, At length gave utterance to these words constraind.

O EVE, in evil hour thou didst give care To that false Worm, of whomsoever taught To counterfet Mans voice, true in our Fall, False in our promis'd Rising; since our Eyes Op'nd we find indeed, and find we know Both Good and Evil, Good lost and Evil got, Bad Fruit of Knowledge, if this be to know, Which leaves us naked thus, of Honour void, Of Innocence, of Faith, of Puritie, Our wonted Ornaments now soild and staind, And in our Faces evident the signes Of foul concupiscence; whence evil store;