Lucif. She flew, and thanked me not, for haste: 'Twas 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.
ACT V.
SCENE I.—Paradise.
Eve, with a bough in her hand.
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—