_Eve._ Methinks I tread more lightly on the ground; My nimble feet from unhurt flowers rebound: I walk in air, and scorn this earthly seat; Heaven is my palace; this my base retreat. Take me not, heaven, too soon; 'twill be unkind To leave the partner of my bed behind. I love the wretch; but stay, shall I afford Him part? already he's too much my lord. 'Tis in my power to be a sovereign now; And, knowing more, to make his manhood bow. Empire is sweet; but how if heaven has spied? If I should die, and He above provide Some other Eve, and place her in my stead? Shall she possess his love, when I am dead? No; he shall eat, and die with me, or live: Our equal crimes shall equal fortune give. _Enter_ ADAM. _Adam._ What joy, without your sight, has earth, in store! While you were absent, Eden was no more. Winds murmured through the leaves your long delay, And fountains, o'er the pebbles, chid your stay: But with your presence cheered, they cease to mourn, And walks wear fresher green at your return. _Eve._ Henceforth you never shall have cause to chide; No future absence shall our joys divide: 'Twas a short death my love ne'er tried before, And therefore strange; but yet the cause was more. _Adam._ My trembling heart forebodes some ill; I fear To ask that cause which I desire to hear. What means that lovely fruit? what means, alas! That blood, which flushes guilty in your face? Speak--do not--yet, at last, I must be told. _Eve._ Have courage, then: 'tis manly to be bold. This fruit--why dost thou shake? no death is nigh: 'Tis what I tasted first; yet do not die. _Adam._ Is it--(I dare not ask it all at first; Doubt is some ease to those who fear the worst:) Say, 'tis not-- _Eve._ 'Tis not what thou needst to fear: What danger does in this fair fruit appear? We have been cozened; and had still been so, Had I not ventured boldly first to know. Yet, not I first; I almost blush to say, The serpent eating taught me first the way. The serpent tasted, and the godlike fruit Gave the dumb voice; gave reason to the brute. _Adam._ O fairest of all creatures, last and best Of what heaven made, how art them dispossest Of all thy native glories! fallen! decayed! (Pity so rare a frame so frail was made) Now cause of thy own ruin; and with thine, (Ah, who can live without thee!) cause of mine. _Eve._ Reserve thy pity till I want it more: I know myself much happier than before; More wise, more perfect, all I wish to be, Were I but sure, alas! of pleasing thee. _Adam._ You've shown, how much you my content design: Yet, ah! would heaven's displeasure pass like mine! Must I without you, then, in wild woods dwell? Think, and but think, of what I loved so well? Condemned to live with subjects ever mute; A savage prince, unpleased, though absolute? _Eve._ Please then yourself with me, and freely taste, Lest I, without you, should to godhead haste: Lest, differing in degree, you claim too late Unequal love, when 'tis denied by fate.