The state of innocence and fall of man an opera, written in heroique verse and dedicated to her Royal Highness, the Dutchess / by John Dryden ...

Scene 1. Paradise.

Adam and Eve.

Adam.

STrange was your dream, and full of sad portent; Avert it, Heav'n, (if it from Heav'n were sent:) Let on thy foes the dire presages fall; To us be good and easy, when we call.

Eve.

Behold, from far a breaking Cloud appears, Which, in it, many winged wariours bears. Their glory shoots upon my aking sense; Thou stronger may'st endure the floud of light, And while in shades I chear my fainting sight Encounter the descending excellence.

[Exit.

The Cloud descends with six Angels in it; and when it's near the ground, breaks; and on each side, discovers six more: they des∣cend out of the Cloud. Raphael and Gabriel discourse with Adam, the rest stand at distance.

Raphael.

First of mankind, that we, from Heav'n are sent Is from Heav'n's care thy ruine to prevent. Th'Apostate Angel has, by night, been here, And whisper'd through thy sleeping consorts ear Delusive dreams, thus warn'd by us, beware; And guide her frailty, by thy timely care.

Gabriel.

These, as thy guards from outward harms, are sent: Ills, from within, thy reason must prevent.

Adam.

Natives of Heav'n, who, in compassion deign To want that place where joyes immortal reign,

In care of me; what praises can I pay Defended in obedience; taught t'obey?

Raphael.

Praise him alone who, God-like, form'd thee free, With will unbounded, as a Diety; Who gave thee reason, as thy Aid, to chuse Apparent good, and evil to refuse. Obedience is that good; This Heav'n exacts And Heav'n, all just, from man requires not acts Which man wants pow'r to do: pow'r then is giv'n Of doing good; but not compell'd by Heav'n.

Gabriel.

Made good; that thou dost to thy Maker owe: But to thy self, if thou continu'st so.

Adam.

Freedome of will, of all good things is best; But can it be by finite man possest? I know not how Heav'n can communicate What equals man to his Creators state.

Raphael.

Heav'n cannot give his boundless pow'r away; But boundless libertie of choice he may. So Orbs, from the first mover, motion take; Yet each their proper revolutions make.

Adam.

Grant Heav'n could once have given us liberty; Are we not bounded, now, by firm decree, Since what so er'e is preordain'd, must be? Else Heav'n, for man, events might preordain, And man's free will might make those orders vain.

Gabriel.

Th'Eternal, when he did the world create, All other agents did necessitate: So, what he order'd, they by nature do; Thus light things mount, and heavy downward go. Man only boasts an arbitrary state.

Adam.

Yet causes their effects necessitate In willing agents: where is freedom then? Or who can break the chain which limits men To act what is unchangeably forecast. Since the first cause gives motion to the last?

Raphael.

Heav'n by fore-knowing what will surely be, Does only, first, effects in causes see; And finds, but does not make necessity.

Creation, is of pow'r and will th'effect, Foreknowledge only of his Intellect; His prescience makes not, but supposes things; Infers necessity to be; not brings. Thus thou art not constrain'd to good or ill; Causes which work th'effect, force not the will.

Adam.

The force unseen, and distant I confess; But the long chain makes not the bondage less. Ev'n Man himself may to himself seem free, And think that choice which is necessity.

Gabriel.

And who but man should judge of man's free state?

Adam.

I find that I can chuse to love, or hate; Obey, or disobey; do good, or ill: Yet such a choice is but consent; not will. I can but chuse what he has first design'd, For he before that choice, my will confin'd.

Gabriel.

Such impious fancies, where they entrance gain, Make Heav'n, all pure, thy crimes to preordain.

Adam.

Far, far from me be banish'd such a thought: I argue only to be better taught. Can there be freedom, when what now seems free Was founded on some first necessity? For what ere cause can move the will t'elect Must be sufficient to produce th'effect: And what's sufficient must effectual be; Then how is man, thus forc'd by causes free?

Raphael.

Sufficient causes, only work th'effect When necessary agents they respect. Such is not man; who, though the cause suffice, Yet often he his free assent denies.

Adam.

What causes not, is not sufficient still.

Gabriel.

Sufficient in it self; not in thy will.

Raphael.

When we see causes join'd t'effects at last, The chain but shows necessity that's past. That what's done, is: (ridiculous proof of fate!) Tell me which part it does necessitate? I'll chuse the other; there I'll link th'effect. O chain, which fools, to catch themselves, project!

Adam.

Though no constraint from Heav'n, or causes, be; Heav'n may prevent that ill he does foresee: And, not preventing, though he does not cause, He seems to will that man should break his laws.

Gabriel.

Heav'n may permit, but not to ill consent; For hind'ring ill, he would all choice prevent. 'Twere to unmake, to take away thy will.

Aaam.

Better constrain'd to good, than free to ill.

Raphael.

But what reward or punishment could be If man to neither good nor ill were free? Th'Eternal justice could decree no pain To him whose sins it self did first ordain; And good compell'd, could no reward exact: His pow'r would shine in goodness, not thy act. Our task is done: obey; and, in that choice, Thou shalt be blest, and Angels shall rejoyce.

[Raphael and Gabriel fly up in the Cloud: the other Angels go off.

Adam.

Hard state of life! since Heav'n fore-knows my will, Why am I not ty'd up from doing ill? Why am I trusted with my self at large, When hee's more able to sustain the charge? Since Angels fell, whose strength was more than mine, 'Twould show more grace my frailty to confine. Fore-knowing the success, to leave me free, Excuses him, and yet supports not me.

[To him, Eve.

Eve.

Behold my heart's dear Lord, how high the Sun Is mounted, yet our labor not begun. The ground, unbid, gives more than we can ask; But work is pleasure when we chuse our task. Nature, not bounteous now, but lavish growes; Our paths with flow'rs, she prodigally strowes; With pain we lift up our intangled feet, While cross our walks the shooting branches meet.

Adam.

Well has thy care advis'd; 'tis fit we hast; Natur's too kind, and follows us too fast;

Leaves us no room her treasures to possess, But mocks our industry with her excess; And wildly wanton wears by night away The sign of all our labors done by day.

Eve.

Since, then, the work's so great, the hands so few, This day let each a several task pursue. By thee, my hands to labor will not move, But round thy neck, employ themselves in love. When thou would'st work, one tender touch, one smile (How can I hold?) will all thy task beguile.

Adam.

So hard we are not to our labor ty'd That smiles, and soft endearements, are deny'd. Smiles, not allow'd to Beasts, from reason move, And are the priviledge of humane love: And if, sometimes, each others eyes we meet, Those little vacancies, from toil, are sweet. But you, by absence, would refresh your joyes, Because perhaps my conversation cloyes. Yet this, would prudence grant, I could permit.

Eve.

What reason makes my small request unfit?

Adam.

The fall'n Archangel, envious of our state, Pursues our Beings with immortal hate. And hopeless to prevail by open force, Seeks hid advantage to betray us worse: Which when asunder, will not prove so hard; For both together are each others guard.

Eve.

Since he, by foree, is hopeless to prevail He can by fraud alone our minds assail: And to believe his wiles my truth can move Is to misdoubt my reason or my love.

Adam.

Call it my care, and not mistrust of thee; Yet thou art weak, and full of Art is he; Else how could he that Host seduce to sin Whose fall has left the Heav'nly nation thin?

Eve.

I grant him arm'd with subtilty, and hate; But why should we suspect our happy state? Is our perfection of so frail a make; As ev'ry plot can undermine or shake?

Think better both of Heav'n, thy self, and me: Who always fears, at ease can never be. Poor state of bliss, where so much care is shown As not to dare to trust our selves alone!

Adam.

Such is our state, as not exempt from fall; Yet firm, if reason to our ayd we call: And that, in both, is stronger than in one; I would not; why would'st thou, then, be alone?

Eve.

Because thus warn'd, I know my self secure, And long my little trial to endure: T'approve my faith; thy needless fears remove; Gain thy esteem, and so deserve thy love. If all this shake not thy obdurate will, Know that, ev'n present, I am absent still: And then what pleasure hop'st thou in my stay When I'm constrain'd, and wish my self away.

Adam.

Constraint does ill with love and beauty sute; I would persuade; but not be absolute. Better be much remiss than too severe; If pleas'd in absence, thou wilt still be here: Go; in thy native innocence proceed, And summon all thy reason at thy need.

Eve.

My Soul, my eyes delight; in this I find Thou lov'st; because to love is to be kind.

[Embracing him.

Seeking my trial, I am still on guard: Tryals less fought, would find us less prepar'd. Our foe's too proud the weaker to assail; Or doubles his dishonour if he fail.

Exit.

Adam.

In love, what use of prudence can there be? More perfect I, and yet more pow'rful she. Blame me not, Heav'n if thou love's pow'r had'st try'd, What could be so unjust to be deny'd? One look of hers my resolution breaks; Reason it self turns folly when she speaks: And aw'd by her whom it was made to sway, Flatters her pow'r, and does its own betray.

Exit.

The middle part of the Garden is represented, where four Ri∣vers meet: on the right side of the Scene, is plac'd the Tree of life, on the left, the Tree of Knowledge.

Enter Lucifer.

Lucifer.

Methinks the beauties of this place should mourn; Th'immortal fruits, and Flow'rs at my return Should hang their wither'd heads; for sure my breath Is now more poys'nous, and has gather'd death Enough, to blast the whole Creation's frame: Swoln with despite, with sorrow, and with shame, Thrice have I beat the wing, and rid with night About the world, behind the globe of light, To shun the watch of Heav'n; such care I use: (What pains will malice, rais'd like mine, refuse Not the most abject form of Brutes to take.) Hid in the spiry volumes of the snake, I lurk'd within the covert of a Brake; Not yet descry'd. But, see, the woman here Alone! beyond my hopes! no guardian near. Good Omen that: I must retire unseen, And, with my borrow'd shape, the work begin.

[Retires.

Enter Eve.

Eve.

Thus far, at least, with leave; nor can it be A sin to look on this Celestial tree: I would not more; to touch a crime may prove: Touching is a remoter tast in love. Death may be there, or poyson in the smell, (If death in any thing so fair can dwell:) But Heav'n forbids: I could be satisfy'd Were every tree but this, but this deny'd.

A Serpent enters on the Stage, and makes directly to the Tree of Knowledge, on which winding himself, he plucks an apple; then descends and carries it away.

Strange sight! did then our great Creator grant That priviledge, which we their Masters want, To these inferiour beings? or was it chance? And was he blest with bolder ignorance? I saw his curling crest the trunk infold: The ruddy fruit, distinguish'd ore with gold, And smiling in its native wealth, was torn From the rich bough, and then in triumph born: The vent'rous victor march'd unpunish'd hence, And seem'd to boast his fortunate offence.

To her Lucifer in a humane shape.

Lucifer.

Hail, Soveraign of this Orb! form'd to possess The world, and, with one look, all nature bless. Nature is thine; thou, Empress, dost bestow On fruits, to blossom; and on flowers, to blow. They happy, yet insensible to boast Their bliss: more happy they who know thee most. Then happiest I, to humane reason rais'd, And voice, with whose first accents thou art prais'd.

Eve.

What art thou, or from whence? for on this ground, Beside my Lord's, ne're heard I humane sound. Art thou some other Adam, form'd from Earth, And com'st to claim an equal share, by birth, In this fair field? or sprung of Heav'nly race?

Lucifer.

An humble native of this happy place, Thy vassal born, and late of lowest kind, Whom Heav'n neglecting made, and scarce design'd But threw me in, for number to the rest, Below the mounting bird, and grazing beast; By chance not prudence, now superior grown.

Eve.

To make thee such, what miracle was shown:

Lucifer.

Who would not tell what thou vouchsaf'st to hear: Saw'st thou not late a speckled serpent rear His gilded spires to climb on yon'fair tree? Before this happy minute I was he.

Eve.

Thou speak'st of wonders: make thy story plain.

Lucifer.

Not wishing then, and thoughtless to obtain, So great a bliss; but, led by sence of good, Inborn to all, I sought my needful food: Then, on that Heav'nly tree, my sight I cast; The colour urg'd my eye, the scent my tast. Not to detain thee long; I took, did eat: Scarce had my palate touch'd th'immortal meat, But on a sudden, turn'd to what I am: God-like, and, next to thee, I fair became: Thought, spake, and reason'd; and, by reason found Thee, Nature's Queen, with all her graces crown'd.

Eve.

Happy thy lot; but far unlike is mine: Forbidd to eat, not daring to repine. 'Twas Heav'n's command; and should we disobey, What rais'd thy Being, ours must take away.

Lucifer.

Sure you mistake the precept, or the tree: Heav'n cannot envious of his blessings be. Some chance-born plant he might forbid your use, As wild, or guilty of a deadly juice: Not this, whose colour, scent divine, and tast, Proclaim the thoughtful Maker not in hast.

Eve.

By all these signs, too well I know the fruit, And dread a pow'r severe, and absolute.

Lucifer.

Severe, indeed; ev'n to injustice hard; If death, for knowing more, be your reward: Knowledge of good, is good; and therefore fit; And to know ill, is good; for shunning it.

Eve.

What, but our good, could he design in this, Who gave us all, and plac'd in perfect bliss?

Lucifer.

Excuse my zeal, fair Soveraign in your cause, Which dares to tax his arbitrary laws.

Tis all his aym to keep you blindly low, That servile fear from ignorance may flow: We scorn to worship whom too well we know. He knows that eating you shall god-like be; As wife, as fit to be ador'd, as he. For his own int'rest he this Law has giv'n; Such Beauty may raise factions in his Heav'n. By awing you, he does possession keep, And is too wise to hazard partnership.

Eve.

Alass who dares dispute with him that right? The power which form'd us must be infinite.

Lucifer.

Who told you how your form was first design'd? The Sun and Earth, produce of every kind; Grass, Flow'rs, and Fruits; nay, living creatures too: Their mould was base; 'twas more refin'd in you: Where vital heat, in purer Organs wrought, Produc'd a nobler kind rais'd up to thought; And that perhaps, might his begining 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.

Lucifer.

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: Heav'n rather will your dauntless virtue praise, That sought, through threat'ned death, immortal good: Gods are immortal only by their food. Tast and remove What diff'rence does 'twixt them and you remain: As I gain'd reason, you shall God-head gain.

Eve,

aside.

He eats, and lives, in knowledge greater grown: Was death invented then for us alone? Is intellectual food to man deny'd Which Brutes have, with so much advantage try'd? Nor only try'd themselves, but frankly, more, To me have offer'd their unenvi'd store?

Lucifer.

Be bold, and all your needless doubts remove: View well this Tree, (the Queen of all the grove,) How vast her bole, how wide her arms are spread, How high above the rest she shoots her head, Plac'd in the mid'st; would Heav'n his works disgrace, By planting poyson in the happiest place? Hast; you lose time and God-head by delay.

Plucking the Fruit.

Eve looking about her.

Tis done; I'll venture all and disobey. Perhaps, far hid in Heav'n, 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.

Lucifer.

She flew, and thank'd me not, for hast: t'was 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.