Next we take the poet's conception of Satan and his fall--
Of old The King eternal by His sovereign might Ordained ten Angel tribes, of equal rank, With beauty, power and wisdom richly dowered; And in the host Angelic, whom, in love, He moulded in His own similitude, He evermore reposed a holy trust To work His will in loving loyalty, And added by His grace, celestial wit And bliss unspeakable.
One of the host Angelic He endowed with peerless might And arch intelligence. To him alone The Lord of Hosts gave undisputed sway O'er all the Angel tribes, exalted high, Above all Principalities and Powers, That next to God omnipotent he stood O'er all created things, lone and supreme. So heavenly fair and beauteous was his form, Fashioned by God Himself, that by compare, Less glorious spirits grew dim; e'en as the stars In God's fixed belt, pale in the glowing light Of nine resplendent spheres.
Long had he reigned, August Vicegerent of the Heavenly King, But for presumptuous pride which filled the heart With dire ingratitude and hostile thoughts Against the eternal throne. Nor was it hid from God's omniscient eye That this archangel, though beloved still, Began to harbour dark presumptuous thoughts, And in rebellion rise against his God With words of pride and hate.
For thus he spake Within his traitorous heart:
"No longer I, With radiant form endowed and heavenly mien, Will brook subjection to a tyrant God, Or be His willing slave. Such power is mine, Such goodly fellowship, I well believe 'Tis greater e'en than God's own following." With many a word of bold defiance spake The Angel of Presumption; for he hoped In heaven to rear a more exalted throne And stronger, than the seats he now possessed. Then moved by traitorous guile he built in thought Vast palaces within the northern realm, And richer western plains of Paradise, And evermore he dwelled in doubtful mood Whether 'twere better in acknowledged war To risk his high estate, or prostrate fall Mock-loyal as his God's inferior.
When the All-Powerful in secret knew The great presumption of His Angel-chief,
Heavenly Justice hurled him from his throne, And cast him headlong down the burning gulf Which leads to deepest hell.
For three long days And three successive nights the apostate falls Forgotten with his lone rebellious tribe.