actions in his heaven.
By awing you he does possession keep,
And is too wise to hazard partnership.
_Eve._ Alas, who dares dispute with him that right?
The Power, which formed us, must be infinite.
_Luc._ Who told you how your form was first designed?
The sun and earth produce, of every kind,
Grass, flowers, and fruits; nay, living creatures too:
Their mould was base; 'twas more refined in you:
Where vital heat, in purer organs wrought,
Produced a nobler kind raised up to thought;
And that, perhaps, might his beginning be:
Something was first; I question if 'twere he.
But grant him first, yet still suppose him good,
Not envying those he made, immortal food.
_Eve._ But death our disobedience must pursue.
_Lucif._ Behold, in me, what shall arrive to you.
I tasted; yet I live: Nay, more; have got
A state more perfect than my native lot.
Nor fear this petty fault his wrath should raise:
Heaven rather will your dauntless virtue praise,
That sought, through threatened death, immortal good:
Gods are immortal only by their food.
Taste, and remove
What difference does 'twixt them and you remain;
As I gained reason, you shall godhead gain.
_Eve._ He eats, and lives, in knowledge greater grown: [_Aside._
Was death invented then for us alone?
Is intellectual food to man denied,
Which brutes have with so much advantage tried?
Nor only tried themselves, but frankly, more,
To me have offered their unenvied store?
_Lucif._ Behold, and all your needless doubts remove;
View well this tree, (the queen of all the grove)
How vast her hole, how wide her arms are spread,
How high above the rest she shoots her head,
Placed in the midst: would heaven his work disgrace,
By planting poison in the happiest place?
Haste; you lose time and godhead by delay. [_Plucking the fruit._
_Eve._ 'Tis done; I'll venture all, and disobey. [_Looking about her._
Perhaps, far hid in heaven, he does not spy,
And none of all his hymning guards are nigh.
To my dear lord the lovely fruit I'll bear;
He, to partake my bliss, my crime shall share. [_Exit hastily._
_Lucif._ She flew, and thanked me not, for haste: 'Twas hard,
With no return such counsel to reward.
My work is done, or much the greater part;
She's now the tempter to ensnare his heart.
He, whose firm faith no reason could remove,
Will melt before that soft seducer, love. [_Exit._
ACT V.
SCENE I.--_Paradise._
EVE, _with a bough
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