Page:Paradise Lost (1667).djvu/57

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Paradiſe loſt.
Book 2.
One day upon our heads; while we perhaps Deſigning or exhorting glorious Warr, Caught in a fierie Tempeſt ſhall be hurl’d 180Each on his rock transfixt, the ſport and prey Of racking whirlwinds, or for ever ſunk Under yon boyling Ocean, wrapt in Chains; There to converſe with everlaſting groans, Unreſpited, unpitied, unrepreevd, Ages of hopeleſs end; this would be worſe. Warr therefore, open or conceal’d, alike My voice diſſwades; for what can force or guile With him, or who deceive his mind, whoſe eye Views all things at one view? he from heav’ns highth 190All theſe our motions vain, ſees and derides; Not more Almighty to reſiſt our might Then wiſe to fruſtrate all our plots and wiles. Shall we then live thus vile, the race of Heav’n Thus trampl’d, thus expell’d to ſuffer here Chains & theſe Torments? better theſe than worſe By my advice; ſince fate inevitable Subdues us, and Omnipotent Decree, The Victors will. To ſuffer, as to doe, Our ſtrength is equal, nor the Law unjuſt 200That ſo ordains: this was at firſt resolv’d, If we were wiſe, againſt ſo great a foe Contending, and ſo doubtful what might fall. I laugh, when thoſe who at the Spear are bold And vent’rous, if that fail them, ſhrink and fear What yet they know muſt follow, to endure Exile, or igominy, or bonds, or pain, The ſentence of thir Conquerour: This is now Our doom; which if we can ſuſtain and bear,

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