_Eve._ When your kind eyes looked languishing on mine, And wreathing arms did soft embraces join, A doubtful trembling seized me first all o'er; Then, wishes; and a warmth, unknown before: What followed was all ecstasy and trance; Immortal pleasures round my swimming eyes did dance, And speechless joys, in whose sweet tumult tost, I thought my breath and my new being lost. _Lucif._ O death to hear! and a worse hell on earth! [_Aside._ What mad profusion on this clod-born birth! Abyss of joys, as if heaven meant to shew What, in base matters, such a hand could do: Or was his virtue spent, and he no more With angels could supply the exhausted store, Of which I swept the sky? And wanting subjects to his haughty will, On this mean work employed his trifling skill? _Eve._ Blest in ourselves, all pleasures else abound; Without our care behold the unlaboured ground Bounteous of fruit; above our shady bowers The creeping jessamin thrusts her fragrant flowers; The myrtle, orange, and the blushing rose, With bending heaps so nigh their blooms disclose, Each seems to swell the flavour which the other blows: By these the peach, the guava, and the pine, And, creeping 'twixt them all, the mantling vine Does round their trunks her purple clusters twine. _Adam._ All these are ours, all nature's excellence, Whose taste or smell can bless the feasted sense; One only fruit, in the mid garden placed,-- The Tree of Knowledge,--is denied our taste; (Our proof of duty to our Maker's will:) Of disobedience, death's the threatened ill. _Eve._ Death is some harm, which, though we know not yet, Since threatened, we must needs imagine great: And sure he merits it, who disobeys That one command, and one of so much ease. _Lucif._ Must they then die, if they attempt to know? He sees they would rebel, and keeps them low. On this foundation I their ruin lay, Hope to know more shall tempt to disobey. I fell by this, and, since their strength is less, Why should not equal means give like success? _Adam._ Come, my fair love, our morning's task we lose; Some labour even the easiest life would chuse: Ours is not great: the dangling boughs to crop, Whose too luxuriant growth our alleys stop, And choke the paths: This our delight requires, And heaven no more of daily work desires. _Eve._ With thee to live, is paradise alone: Without the pleasure of thy sight, is none. I fear small progress will be made this day; So much our kisses will our task delay. [_Exeunt._ _Lucif._ Why have not I, like these, a body too, Formed for the same delights which they pursue! I could (so variously my passions move) Enjoy, and blast her in the act of love. Unwillingly I hate such excellence; She wronged me not; but I revenge the offence, Through her, on heaven, whose thunder took away My birth-right skies! Live happy whilst you may, Blest pair; y'are not allowed another day! [_Exit._