Page:Paradise lost by Milton, John.djvu/344

338 And dungeon of our tyrant—now possess, As lords, a spacious world, to our native Heaven Little inferior, by my adventure hard With peril great achieved. Long were to tell What I have done, what suffered, with what pain Voyaged the unreal, vast, unbounded Deep Of horrible confusion, over which By Sin and Death a broad way now is paved, To expedite your glorious march; but I Toiled out my uncouth passage, forced to ride The untractable Abyss, plunged in the womb Of unoriginal Night and Chaos wild, That, jealous of their secrets, fiercely opposed My journey strange, with clamorous uproar, Protesting Fate supreme; thence how I found The new-created World, which fame in Heaven Long had foretold, a fabric wonderful, Of absolute perfection; therein Man Placed in a paradise, by our exile Made happy. Him by fraud I have seduced From his Creator, and, the more to increase Your wonder, with an apple! He thereat Offended—worth your laughter—hath given up Both his beloved Man and all his World To Sin and Death a prey, and so to us, Without our hazard, labor or alarm, To range in, and to dwell, and over Man