I need not observe how properly this Author, who always suits his Parts to the Actors whom he introduces, has employed Michael in the Expulsion of our first Parents from Paradise. The Archangel on this Occasion neither appears in his proper Shape, nor in that familiar Manner with which Raphael the sociable Spirit entertained the Father of Mankind before the Fall. His Person, his Port, and Behaviour, are suitable to a Spirit of the highest Rank, and exquisitely describd in the following Passage.
—Th’ Archangel soon drew nigh,
Not in his Shape Celestial; but as Man
Clad to meet Man: over his lucid
Arms
A Military Vest of Purple flow’d,
Livelier than Meliboean, or the Grain
Of Sarra, worn by Kings and Heroes old,
In time of Truce: Iris had dipt the
Wooff:
His starry Helm, unbuckled, shew’d
him prime
In Manhood where Youth ended; by his side,
As in a glistring Zodiack, hung the Sword,
Satan’s dire dread, and in his Hand
the Spear.
Adam bow’d low, he Kingly from his
State
Inclined not, but his coming thus declared.
Eve’s Complaint upon hearing that she was to be removed from the Garden of Paradise, is wonderfully beautiful: The Sentiments are not only proper to the Subject, but have something in them particularly soft and womanish.
Must I then leave thee, Paradise?
Thus leave
Thee, native Soil, these happy Walks and
Shades,
Fit haunt of Gods? Where I had hope
to spend
Quiet, though sad, the respite of that
Day
That must be mortal to us both. O
Flowrs,
That never will in other Climate grow,
My early Visitation, and my last
At Even, which I bred up with tender Hand
From the first opening Bud, and gave you
Names;
Who now shall rear you to the Sun, or
rank
Your Tribes, and water from th’
ambrosial Fount?
Thee, lastly, nuptial Bower, by me adorn’d
With what to Sight or Smell was sweet;
from thee
How shall I part, and whither wander down
Into a lower World, to this obscure
And wild? how shall we breathe in other
Air
Less pure, accustomd to immortal Fruits?
Adam’s Speech abounds with Thoughts which are equally moving, but of a more masculine and elevated Turn. Nothing can be conceived more Sublime and Poetical than the following Passage in it.
This most afflicts me, that departing
hence
As from his Face I shall be hid, deprived
His blessed Countnance: here I could
frequent,
With Worship, place by place where he
vouchsaf’d
Presence Divine; and to my Sons relate,
On this Mount he appear’d, under
this Tree
Stood visible, among these Pines his Voice
I heard, here with him at this Fountain
talk’d;
So many grateful Altars I would rear
Of grassy Turf, and pile up every Stone
Of lustre from the Brook, in memory
Or monument to Ages, and thereon
Offer sweet-smelling Gums and Fruits and