18

类别:文学名著 作者:约翰·弥尔顿 本章:18

    to emptuous brow. [ 885 ]

    Gabriel, t in eem of wise,

    And suc tion askt

    Puts me in doubt. Lives ther who loves his pain?

    , finding way, break loose from hell,

    t t, [ 890 ]

    And boldly venture to wever place

    Fart from pain,  o change

    torment  recompence

    Dole , w;

    to t only good, [ 895 ]

    But evil  not trid: and  object

    him surer barr

    es, if ends our stay

    In t dark durance: t .

    t is true, they say; [ 900 ]

    But t implies not violence or harme.

    the warlike Angel movd,

    Disdainfully hus replid.

    O loss of one in o judge of wise,

    Since Satan fell, whrew, [ 905 ]

    And nourns ,

    Gravely in doubt wo hem wise

    Or not, w boldness brougher

    Unlicenct from his bounds in hell prescribd;

    So o fly from pain [ 910 ]

    o scape .

    So judge till, presumptuous, till th,

    by flying, meet t

    Seavenfold, and scourge t o hell,

    aug no better, t no pain [ 915 ]

    Can equal anger infinite provokt.

    But whee

    Came not all o them

    Less pain, less to be fled, or they

    Less o endure? courageous Chief, [ 920 ]

    t in flig thou allegd

    to ted  t,

    t not come sole fugitive.

    to wern.

    Not t I less endure, or shrink from pain, [ 925 ]

    Insulting Angel,  I stood

    t, o thy aide

    ting volied thunder made all speed

    And seconded t dreaded Spear.


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