Page:Paradise Lost (1667).djvu/74

Book 2.  To meet o great a foe: and now great deeds Had been achiev'd, whereof all Hell had rung, Had not the Snakie Sorceres that at Fat by Hell Gate, and kept the fatal Key, Ris'n, and with hideous outcry ruh'd between. O Father, what intends thy hand, he cry'd, 730 Againt thy only Son? What fury O Son, Poees thee to bend that mortal Dart Againt thy Fathers head? and know’t for whom; For him who its above and laughs the while At thee ordain'd his drudge, to execute What e’re his wrath, which he calls Jutice, bids, His wrath which one day will detroy ye both. She pake, and at her words the hellih Pet Forbore, then thee to her Satan return'd:  So trange thy outcry, and thy words o trange Thou interpoet, that my udden hand Prevented pares to tell thee yet by deeds 740 What it intends; till firt I know of thee, What thing thou art, thus double-form'd, and why In this infernal Vaile firt met thou call’t Me Father, and that Fantam call’t my Son? I know thee not, nor ever aw till now Sight more detetable then him and thee. T' whom thus the Portres of Hell Gate reply'd; Hat thou forgot me then, and do I eem Now in thine eye o foul, once deemed o fair In Heav’n, when at th' Aembly, and in ight 750 Of all the Seraphim with thee combin'd In bold conpiracy againt Heav’ns King, All on a udden mierable pain Surpris'd thee, dim thine eyes, and dizzie wumm