—­Hide me from the Face
  Of God, whom to behold was then my heighth
  Of Happiness! yet well, if here would end
  The Misery, I deserved it, and would bear
  My own Deservings:  but this will not serve;
  All that I eat, or drink, or shall beget
  Is propagated Curse.  O Voice once heard
  Delightfully, Increase and Multiply;
  Now Death to hear!—­

 —­In me all
  Posterity stands curst!  Fair Patrimony,
  That I must leave ye, Sons!  O were I able
  To waste it all my self, and leave you none! 
  So disinherited, how would you bless
  Me, now your Curse!  Ah, why should all Mankind,
  For one Man’s Fault, thus guiltless be condemn’d,
  If guiltless?  But from me what can proceed
  But all corrupt—­

Who can afterwards behold the Father of Mankind extended upon the Earth, uttering his midnight Complaints, bewailing his Existence, and wishing for Death, without sympathizing with him in his Distress?

  Thus Adam to himself lamented loud,
  Thro the still Night; not now, (as ere Man fell)
  Wholesome, and cool, and mild, but with black Air
  Accompanied, with Damps and dreadful Gloom;
  Which to his evil Conscience represented
  All things with double Terror.  On the Ground
  Outstretched he lay; on the cold Ground! and oft
  Curs’d his Creation; Death as oft accusd
  Of tardy Execution—­

The Part of Eve in this Book is no less passionate, and apt to sway the Reader in her Favour.  She is represented with great Tenderness as approaching Adam, but is spurn d from him with a Spirit of Upbraiding and Indignation, conformable to the Nature of Man, whose Passions had now gained the Dominion over him.  The following Passage, wherein she is described as renewing her Addresses to him, with the whole Speech that follows it, have something in them exquisitely moving and pathetick.

  He added not, and from her turned:  But Eve
  Not so repulst, with Tears that ceas’d not flowing,
  And Tresses all disorderd, at his feet
  Fell humble; and embracing them, besought
  His Peace, and thus proceeding in her Plaint. 
    Forsake me not thus, Adam!  Witness Heav’n
  What Love sincere, and Reverence in my Heart
  I bear thee, and unweeting have offended,
  Unhappily deceived!  Thy Suppliant
  I beg, and clasp thy Knees; bereave me not
  (Whereon I live!) thy gentle Looks, thy Aid,
  Thy Counsel, in this uttermost Distress,
  My only Strength, and Stay!  Forlorn of thee,
  Whither shall I betake me, where subsist? 
  While yet we live, (scarce one short Hour perhaps)
  Between us two let there be Peace, &c.