Blackwood's Magazine/Volume 1/Issue 2/On the Original of Milton's Satan
on the original of milton's satan, with extracts from crashaw's "suspicion of herod."
mr editor,
In the learned and elegant dissertation, in your last number, on the Prometheus of Æschylus, an old opinion has been revived, that Milton took the character of his Satan from the Prometheus of the Athenian poet. Both personages are stern and unbending, and so far, certainly, the resemblance holds good ; but such a Satan as Milton had to delineate was already sketched with a masterly hand by the Italian poet, Marino, in his poem on "The Slaughter of the Innocents," one book of which, "The Suspicion of Herod," was translated into English by Crashaw, and given to the public long before Paradise Lost was written. The poem of Marino I have never been able to procure even a sight of; but I have sent you some extracts from the translation, which, owing to the general bad taste of Crashaw, it is probable few of your readers are acquainted with; and those who are, will readily pardon you for reprinting some of the finest lines our poetry can boast of. The suggestion, that Milton has borrowed from them, is not new, but has been little attended to.
From "The Suspicion of Herod," translated by Crashaw, from Marino, beginning at stanza 5.
Below the bottom of the great abyss,
There, where one centre reconciles all things.
The world's profound heart pants; there
placed is Mischief's old Master; close about him clings
A curl'd knot of embracing snakes, &c.
The Judge of Torments, and the King of Tears,
He fills a burnish'd throne of quenchless fire;
And for his old fair robes of light, he wears
A gloomy mantle of dark flames; the tire
That crowns his hated head on high appears.
Where seven tall horns (his empire's pride) aspire;
And, to make up Hell's majesty, each horn
Seven crested Hydras horribly adorn.
His eyes, the sullen dens of Death and Night,
Startle the dull air with a dismal red:
Such his fell glances as the fatal light
Of staring comets, that look kingdomes dead.—
His breath Hell's lightning is, and each deep groan
Disdains to think that Heaven thunders alone!
Three rigorous virgins, waiting still behind,
Assist the throne of the iron-scepter'd King;
With whips, of thorns and knotty vipers twin'd,
They rouse him, when his rank thoughts need a sting.
Thus reigns the wrathful King, and while he reigns,
His sceptre and himself both he disdains.
Disdainful wretch! how hath one bold sin cost
Thee all the beauties of thy once bright eyes?
How hath one black eclipse cancell'd and crost
The glories that did gild thee in thy rise?
Proud morning of a perverse day! how lost
Art thou unto thyself!———
****From Death's sad shades, to the life-breathing air,
This mortal enemy to mankind's good
Lifts his malignant eyes, wasted with care, &c.
He calls to mind the old quarrel, and what spark
Set the contending sons of Heaven on fire:
Oft in his deep thought he revolves the dark
Sybil's divining leaves; he does inquire
Into the old prophecies, trembling to mark
How many present prodigies conspire
To crown their past predictions, &c.
Heaven's golden-winged herald late he saw
To a poor Galilean virgin sent:
How low the bright youth bowed, and with what awe
Immortal flowers to her fair hand present
He saw, how in that blest day-bearing night
The Heaven-rebuked shades made haste away;
How bright a dawn of angels with new light
Amaz'd the midnight world, and made a day
Of which the morning knew not———
He saw a threefold sun, with rich increase
Make proud the ruby portals of the East.
He saw the temple sacred to sweet Peace
Adore her Prince's birth———
He saw the falling Idols all confess
The coming Deity.———
He saw Heaven blossom with a new-born light,
On which, as on a glorious stranger, gazed
The golden eyes of Night, whose beam made bright
The way to Bethlem, and as boldly blazed
(Nor asked leave of the sun) by day as night.
Struck with these great concurrences of things,
Symptoms so deadly unto Death and him,
Fain would he have forget what fatal strings
Eternally bind each rebellious limb.
He shook himself, and spread his spacious wings,
Which, like two bosom'd sails, embraced the dim air
With a dismal shade, &c.———
He tossed his troubled eyes, embers that glow
Now with new rage, and wax too hot for Hell.
With his foul claws he fenced his furrowed brow,
And gave a ghastly shriek, whose horrid yell
Ran trembling through the hollow vaults of Night.
Yet, on the other side, he fain would start
Above his fears, and think it cannot be, &c.
*****While new thoughts boil'd in his enraged breast,
His gloomy bosom's darkest character
Was in his shady forehead seen exprest.
The forehead's shade in grief's expression there,
Is what in sign of joy among the blest
The face's lightning, or a smile, is here.
These stings of care that his strong heart opprest,
A desperate "Oh me!" drew from his deep breast.
"Oh me!" thus bellowed he; "oh me! what great
Portents before mine eyes their powers advance?
And serves my purer sight only to beat
Down my proud thought, and leave it in a trance?
Frown I, and can great Nature keep her seat,
And the gay stars lead on their golden dance?
Can His attempts above still prosperous be,
Auspicious still, in spite of Hell and Me?
"He has my Heaven, (what would he more ?) whose bright
And radiant sceptre this bold hand should bear;
And, for the never-fading fields of light,
My fair inheritance, he confines me here
To this dark house of shades, horrour and night,
To draw a long-lived death, where all my cheer
Is the solemnity my sorrow wears,
That mankind's torment waits upon my tears.
"Dark dusky man, he needs would single forth,
To make the partner of his own pure ray:
And should we Powers of Heaven, spirits of worth,
Bow our bright heads before a king of clay?
It shall not be! said I; and clomb the north.
Where never wing of Angel yet made way.
What though I mist my blow?—yet I struck high,
And to dare something, is some victory.
"Is He not satisfied? means He to wrest
Hell from me too, and sack my territories?
Vile human nature, means he not t'invest
(O my despite!) with his divinest glories?
And rising with rich spoils upon his breast,
With his fair triumphs fill all future stories!
Must the bright arms of Heaven rebuke these eyes.
Mock me, and dazzle my dark mysteries?
"Art thou not Lucifer? he to whom the droves
Of stars that gild the morn in charge were given?
The nimblest of the lightning-winged loves,
The fairest and the first-born smile of heaven?
****Ah wretch! what boots thee to cast back thy eyes
Where dawning Hope no beam of comfort shews?
While the reflection of thy forepast joys
Renders thee double to thy present woes!—
Rather make up to thy new miseries,
And meet the mischief that upon thee grows.
If Hell must mourn, Heaven sure shall sympathise:
What force cannot effect, fraud shall devise.
"And yet whose force fear I?—Have I so lost
Myself?—my strength too, with ray innocence?
Come, try who dares, Heaven, Earth, whate'er dost boast
A borrowed being, make thy bold defence!
Come thy Creator too!—what though it cost
Me yet another fall?—we'd try our strengths.
Heaven saw us struggle once; as brave a fight
Earth now should see, and tremble at the sight!"
Thus spoke th' impatient prince, and made a pause.
His foul hags rais'd their heads, and clapp'd their hands,
And all the Powers of Hell, in full applause,
Flourish'd their snakes, and toss'd their flaming brands.
****"I thank you all, but one must single out."
****Thrice howl'd the caves of night, and thrice the sound,
Thund'ring upon the banks of those black lakes,
Hung through the hollow vaults of Hell profound:
At last her list'ning ears the noise o'ertakes,
She lifts her sooty lamps, and looking round,
A general hiss from the whole tire of snakes
Rebounding, through Hell's inmost caverns came,
In answer to her formidable name!
****Scarce to this monster could the shady King
The horrid sum of his intentions tell;
But she (swift as the momentary wing
Of lightning, or the words he spoke) left Hell.
She rose, and with her to our world did bring
Pale proof of her fell presence.———
****Heaven saw her rise, and saw Hell in the sight.
****