#if i fail then ill relapse as a punishment and if i pass then ill relapse as a reward

[mifink]

"sometimes you have to be a little mentally ill to get mentally well" so i'm going to speedrun (stu)dying for my math exam tomorrow by ignoring my mental state, urge to relapse and simply telling myself "this too shall pass" and "i have miles to go (a hell ton of planimetry to understand) before i sleep"

[statticscribbles]

Stone Snake

Summary: My take on Kurtz’s backstory

It’s Fangs who brings up Kurtz’s behavior, how they’d been talking, Kurtz antagonizing them before he’d just stopped for thirty seconds, frozen before he continued, his words slurred slightly. Jughead brushes it off as a slightly too much Fizzle Rocks, but when Sweet Pea says the same thing twice later that week he makes a point of confronting Kurtz; well trying to but he finds Kurtz out for the next two days.

When he shows back up he looks worryingly sick to Jughead. The normally wide alert eyes he has are half closed and glassy. His entire body looks like he’s about to fall over, partially from his own weight and the overall exhaustion that causes him to drag himself into the chair and close his eyes leaning back. Even when Fangs quips how he looks like he’s going to be dragged to hell with all his slouching he doesn’t do more that offer a sleepy chuckle. When he gets up to change classes and his arm jerks outward almost hitting Toni; the rest of the Serpents tense waiting for a fight.

“I’m sorry.” Is all he mumbles before he slips out into the rushing hallway. The Serpents are left confused and Toni doesn’t say anything when he asks if she said something to bother Kurtz.

Jughead watches him at lunch, how his head droops against his shoulder as he curls into the armchair, folding over himself and wincing as he digs through his bag, pulling out a pair of dark sunglasses to cover his eyes. “Kurtz.” He tilts his head up to Jughead who stands over him. “Yes?” Jughead sighs nervous at the lack of fight in Kurtz for the past few days. “You okay?” Kurtz lowers the sunglasses; Jughead notes he looks confused chewing his lip before nodding. “Yes, just stress.” He states, almost questioning himself but Jughead lets it go for as long as it takes Kurtz to stand. It’s no longer let go when Kurtz is walking from the student lounge and his leg gives out from under him. Jughead hears the gasp he sucks in as he falls, stumbling up as if nothing happened, hand digging into the back of his head as he steady’s himself.

“Betty.” Jughead speaks to get her attention and she watches as he sits down next to her. “What’s in Kurtz’s file?” Betty shoots him a confused look. “Besides the criminal activity? I’d assume not much, why?” Jughead shakes his head. “Something’s wrong with him, besides the Fizzle Rocks and G&G issues. I need to know what it is, despite everything he’s still a Serpent.” Betty nods retreating from the student lounge. It takes her fifteen minutes before she returns holding a thin file. “This is it?” She nods scowling as he flicks it open. “C. Kurtz Walters.” Betty speaks but Jughead’s already read down the page scowling. “Of course he’s from there.” Betty skims the rest of the page to find what’s annoyed Jughead, at the bottom of the page written almost as a footnote.

-Request records from the Sisters of Quiet Mercy. - They both look at each other and they know exactly where they’ll be spending their weekend. “You can’t just ask him?” Betty questions in their last class. Jughead shakes his head. “I don’t even know if he’s ever given me a straight answer, better to gather more information before asking.” He shrugs as he tugs his jacket on after the bell rings.

They call on Sister Woodhouse directly, she does little to hide her disgust and annoyance at them showing up. “What do you two want now?” “Our friend, Kurtz. He grew up here, we wanted to get his records for the school to have.” Sister Woodhouse raises an eyebrow as she sits behind her desk. “Why can’t the school request it then? And why you two?” Betty smiles tightly and hands over a folded piece of paper. They wait as she reads it, Sister Woodhouse passing it back to Betty nodding.

“Follow me.” She leads them down a corridor and into a small room filled with filing cabinets. “His name?” “Kurtz, Walters.” Jughead states. “Kurtz?” Sister Woodhouse frowns eyes darting back and forth as if searching for something. “Oh you mean Conrad, such a good boy.” Betty’s eyes dart to Jughead who rolls his, before pulling a half blurred photo he’d manage to get of Kurtz. He shows it to Sister Woodhouse, and she smiles.

“Oh that’s definitely Conrad, wild little boy he was, always wanted to play. Hated camera’s; still does if that’s the best photo you have of him, still unmistakable.” “He hates camera’s?” Betty probes and Sister Woodhouse nods holding the identification photo up, one of the other boy’s is holding Kurtz back, his arms restrained and his eyes wide and fearful. “It was really the flash he hated. Something about those bright lights scared him.” Betty nods hovering her phone to take photos of his files. Sister Woodhouse retreats from watching them to scold one of the children who are peeking in the door. Betty frowns putting her phone away and sliding the file between two of the books in her bag next to the letter her mother forged. Her and Jughead are in his trailer reading over the file.

Name: Conrad Kurtz Walters. Gender: Male Age Admitted: Four D.O.B: October 2002 Reason for Admission: Orphan, untreated illness specified as abandonment reason. Symptoms: Hallucinations, nightmares, tremors, anxiety, loss of appetite, crying spells, violent outbursts. “Jug look at this.” He frowns at the paper Betty pulls out. He notes the dates have changed, it seems to make Kurtz around seven when the second half of the page was written. Therapeutic treatments: Grief counseling, aversion correction. Bereavement and CBT therapies considered. Betty shakes her head as he reads. “Not that, this.” She points to the bottom of the page, her body tensing as her eyebrows furrow. Grief counseling: Failed. Aversion Correction: partial success. ECT advised. Jughead turns the page. ECT approved. ECT administered daily. ECT Successful. Patient reports no negative behaviors or coping mechanisms used three days post ECT. Jughead flips through the rest of the file, wincing as he reads out. Patient reported relapse, staff confirmed, resume ECT. ECT administered daily. ECT successful. Patient reports negative coping mechanisms. ECT rescheduled. ECT administered daily for two additional weeks. ECT successful. Treatment concluded. “ECT?” “Electroconvulsive Therapy. Where they shock you, it’s proven useful for treating depression as well as more serious mood disorders when done right.” Jughead reads. “Why would he need- Jug, oh my god.” Betty pulls out more papers, old notes it looks like and her and Jughead read over them.

Conrad was found at four years old, on the Blossom’s grounds. He was unable to say where he came from, or who his family was, traces of sedative were found in his system. It was likely he was being moved from one area to the other. Potentially part of a human trafficking scheme. She flips the page scanning down the next one. Age ten, Conrad reports nightmares of “where dead people live” he refuses to play Gryphons and Gargoyles with the other children. Sister Lila found him in the ‘king chamber’ he refused to leave. Two of the orderlies had to sedate him. He returned to the “king chamber” despite warnings and punishment’s against it. He appears to return after unsuccessful ECT sessions. When questioned about why he was there, he stated he was talking to his father. Conrad refuses to speak during his allotted therapy sessions preferring to draw. He would often draw pictures of the Gargoyle king, these only increased after successful ECT sessions. He would occasionally draw a figure in all black and gray assumed to be his father.

“His father?” Jughead questions and Betty skims the rest of the report. Conrad reports his father lives ‘where the dead people live’ we can assume his father was abusive or neglectful as the nightmares he reports often have him being locked in a closet like room or chained outside. ECT administered daily to correct the negative thoughts. Aversion to bright lights and flashes still present. Conrad shows improvement and a willingness to socialize through G&G. Betty turns.

“Look a medical report.” Conrad experienced a seizure like episode during picture day. He reported waking with a headache, a common excuse to try to stay in bed. After breakfast where he flung his oatmeal across the room twice he reported the headache having gotten worse. After his usually ECT session his speech was slurred and he had trouble standing. He was brought to picture day covering his eyes when he entered the room crying about the flashes hurting him. Two minutes of waiting in line and being exposed to the flashes of the bulbs caused him to loose consciousness and begin mild convulsions that lasted for fifty-seven seconds. When Conrad regained consciousness he was crying apologizing and asking us not to tell his father or to chain him outside. “Chained? Christ no wonder Kurtz is so fucked- Betty.” Jughead’s eyes widen. “What? Jug What?” “Who do we know that lives ‘where dead people do? And has a place to chain someone outside?” Jughead swallows. “Like hot dog.” He prompts at Betty gasps when she connects his prompting.

“Malachai? You think-” Jughead shrugs, before pulling the file back over. “Disregarding that for the moment, he had a seizure, could it be a reoccurring problem? Maybe why he wasn’t adopted out?” Jughead questions and Betty nods in agreement. “Either way you have a lot more facts to go talk to him about.” She kisses his cheek as she leaves and Jughead groans dreading school.

He’s walking through the hallway, noticing Kurtz slumped in one of the chairs again, it’s closest to the door and he doesn’t move when Jughead calls out to him. “Conrad.” Kurtz head whips up and he jerks from the chair huffing as he glares at Jughead. “I have a couple questions for you.” Kurtz nods. “Fire away then.” “I know you were at the Sister’s for years and-“ “From when I was about five till fifteen. You running a story on the ‘therapy’ they do there?” “Why do you say it like-“ Kurtz snorts. “You really think they know what they were doing when they shocked a seven year old with epilepsy?” “Epilepsy?”

“Yeah, the seizures? I’m sure you read about those in my files, not to mention the ones I’ve had earlier in the week. Running low on my meds, and with you throwing out drug runnin’ I’m out a job.” Jughead frowns. “You can’t pay for-“ “You really think I could anyways? You think Mrs. Fogarty can pay for her treatments too? We’re from the Southside Jones, everyone, even the government want us dead; we’re the dog shit on their new shoes. The reminder of mistakes and something taking up space for the nice prison they want to build. It’ll have wonderful windows, I swear.” Kurtz mocks sneering at Jughead. “You want to play havoc in my brain you’ve already been beaten, you’re years late on that one snake, not even my own parents wanted to deal with me or the hallucinations, bet that was in my file to yeah?”

“Yeah it-“ “You wanna know what fucked up my dad so bad he left me in the middle of the forest?” Kurtz snaps squaring up to Jughead. “I had an episode in front of Fred Andrews. I was going to meet my dad for lunch at Pop’s. We were getting burgers it was our thing. Andrews was on lunch break. I don’t know what it was but one second I’m eating the next I’m on the floor screaming. He freaked and my dad, he just sat back and laughed, said for him not to worry. He tried to drive me to the hospital. That idiot he should’a known better than to take somethin’ belonging to my dad. So after Andrews calmed down, he got me a shake, my dad put something in it. I was half awake drugged and out of it from the seizure and he drove me out into the forest and said if I ever came back to him or told anyone he’d keep me out back all the time, not just when I had episodes.” Kurtz sighs letting his head drop as he stares at the floor. “Kurtz.”

“Don’t go saying you’re sorry for me or ‘I didn’t know I wouldn’t’ve-‘ There’s a reason I didn’t let anyone know, reason I didn’t bother anybody. I’m crazy enough most people stay away from that. Guessin’ snakes don’t have that much brain power.” He half laughs as his breathing hitches his leg going out from under him. Jughead automatically wraps an arm around him hoisting him up.

“Come on Kurtz, you’re a snake too, you’re just as dumb as all of us.” Kurtz laughs shaking his head. “That’s where you’re wrong, I have an excuse, I may be dumb as a pile of bricks but it’s cause my brain is fucked up, you’re just dumb.” Jughead huffs. “Oh really, prove it.” He knows its childish, but he’s surprised at how human Kurtz is acting, he justifies his relief as Kurtz being a Serpent, nothing more. “Well you let me join up didn’t you? Point proven.” Jughead laughs shoving him towards the chair he’d stood from before sitting in the chair next to it.

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[ljfeed-spn-j2-bigbang]

2020 Master List

Here is the 2020 masterlist. If you see any errors, please let me know.

Extreme thanks to

firesign10 for coding the list again this year! We all owe them a huge debt of gratitude!

Jared/Jensen

Stacks of Green Paper in His Red Right Hand

Link to Art: Here

Author: zara_zee

Artist: bluefire986

Pairing(s): Jared/Jensen

Genre: SPN RPF - Slash, Dark Romance, Action-thriller. Crime.

Word Count: 30K

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: References to child abuse. Organized crime. BDSM. Kink. Violence. Part of the Hellspawn 'verse

Summary: Life has never been better for Jared and Jensen. Business is booming. The challenges for control of the Californian underworld appear to have stopped. They have an awesome new house and an ever growing family of misfits and outlaws. Jensen’s even trying to quit smoking.

And then Jensen’s father drops a bombshell that makes Jared bench Jensen from everything but their ‘honest’ earnings. Jensen hates his new restrictions, but with so much on the line, he can’t argue with them—not until a friend of the Club is in danger and Jensen’s the only one who can help. And then he can’t just sit it out. Right?

Headstrong

Link to Art:Here

Author: fufuraw

Artist: yanyan

Pairing(s): Jared and Jensen

Genre: Gen

Word Count: 21,228

Rating: PG

Warnings: Were transformations

Summary: Jared learns about his family and his background. Jensen and the Bell Creek Pack are there to support him as he learns to navigate a world he never expected to have to live in.

On Your Way

Link to Art: Here

Author: zubeneschamali

Artist: quickreaver

Pairing(s): Jared/Jensen

Genre: SPN RPS

Word Count: 47,391

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: none

Summary: Jared's got a YouTube channel where he chronicles his attempt to run a half marathon in every U.S. state and all of the sights he sees along the way. Jensen's got a YouTube channel where he records his adventures in minimalist backpacking, taking to the most scenic places he can find with the least equipment he can carry. When both of them enter a competition for the best travel video blog—where the winner gets their own Netflix show—they'll have to decide if the growing attraction between them is more important than who wins the competition…

The Prophecy

Link to Art: Here

Author: tammyrenh

Artist: tx_dora

Pairing(s): Jared/Jensen

Genre: SPN RPS

Word Count: 25174

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: none

Summary: There is an old prophecy that involves an omega with magic ability far greater than has ever been seen before. Jared, a royal omega about to be given away to a very not-nice prince, decides to choose one thing for himself - who to give his virginity to. This act results in major consequences for both Jared and Jensen - including a pregnancy that shouldn’t be possible, magic that saves them and places them in danger, a voyage across the sea, sword fights, an evil prince, and, above all, the fierce love that binds Jared, Jensen and their unborn child together.

Freedom

Link to Art: Here

Author: sanshal

Artist: cherie_morte

Pairing(s): Jared/Jensen

Genre: SPN RPS

Word Count: 30,853

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: Dystopian AU, Slave!Jared, Master!Jensen, Nudity, Collar, Sexual training- (prostate milking, object insertion, chastity, Punishment/spanking etc.), Brain-washing, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Kids, Divorce, Mentions of depression, Crying, Alcohol abuse. Protective Jensen. The story is not as dark as the warning make it appear, however, please do read them carefully (as there are instances of them in the fic) and if you feel that you may be triggered, please be careful.

Summary: A new law comes into play which calculates an individual’s income and expenditure and if one fails to meet a particular ‘standard’, they are indentured till they can work off the difference by working for ‘sponsors’.

Jared fails to meet the ‘standard’.

Metaphysical Inc

Link to Art: Here

Author: blackrabbit42

Artist: beelikej

Pairing(s): Jared/Jensen

Genre: SPN RPF AU

Word Count: 21K

Rating: R

Warnings:

Summary: Loosely inspired by Monsters, Inc. Jensen works for the Life Department, Jared works for the Death Division. When they accidentally bring a live human baby into the metaphysical world, they need to work against the forces of Time and Fate, as well as that little shit from Chaos, Misha, to return baby Bee to her rightful place in the human world. Doing so might involve sacrifices and changes neither of them ever imagined.

The Rose Hidden Among the Thorns

Link to Art: Here

Author: backrose_17

Artist: 2blueshoes

Pairing(s): Jared/Jensen

Genre: SPN RPF AU

Word Count: 22,110

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: A/B/O, mpreg and cheating

Summary: Mob Boss Jensen Ackles is done with the thorn in his side FBI Agent Stephen Amell and he goes after Stephen's one true weakness, his loyal boyfriend Jared Padalecki. Jared has always known that Stephen's life is a dangerous one but he never expected to be drawn into a web of seduction and danger or learn secrets that Stephen has been keeping from him.

Master, Be My Slave

Link to Art: jdl71 Here

Link to Art: dun Here

Author: wincestwhore (Hunter King)

Artist: jdl71 and dun

Pairing(s): Jared/Jensen

Genre: SPF AU

meus_venator

phoenix1966

paleogymnast

aggiedoll

cherie_morte

bostonleigh (velvet-impala)

tcs1121

bluefire986

dwimpala21

candygramme and

spoonlessone

emmatheslayer

jdl71

dwimpala21

anniespinkhouse

amberdreams

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emmatheslayer

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smalltrolven

kaelysta

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nyxocity

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paperbackwriter

kelios

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ameraleigh

amberdreams

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liliaeth

raving_liberal

m14mouse

[one-abuse-survivor]

(TW for eating disorders.) First of all, I just want to say thank you for creating this blog as a safe space. You’ve given folk who more often than not have had their voices taken away a place of validation, comfort, and love. I wish you love, healing, and safety, especially with the times we live in now. (I also hope you don’t mind if I also come back sometime because there’s a lot more I’d like to talk about, but I feel like we’d be here all day if I’d unpack everything all in one go.) (1/16)

I’ve had an on-and-off eating disorder for the last 2 or 3 years, solely prompted by my dad offhandedly commenting about my weight. I don’t even remember what he even told me specifically, but ever since then, I’ve been torturing myself with starvation, purging, and over-exercising to compensate for a relatively minor incident I don’t think my dad even remembers happened. (2/16)

My dad has been emotionally and verbally abusive to me since I was young. Because of his abuse, I suffer from severe depression (though I believe I might have other mental illnesses due to some of my behaviors being similar to other disorders). And because of my depression, I’ve lost so much. (3/16)  

I’ve lost a fair amount of my childhood memories to memory loss (the ones I can primarily remember are traumatic incidents with him), lost any consistent feeling of stability and hope for the future, and nearly lost my life to a suicide attempt that he prompted & was actually there to witness – it’s been 3 years since then and I don’t think he’ll ever take the blame or even acknowledge it happened. (4/16)

What I hate him the most for though is the fact that he took away my ability to feel truly confident in myself, culminating in my eating disorder. I don’t remember it clearly, but I remember it all started when we were sitting at the dinner table with the rest of my family. (5/16)

He asked me, “Anon, what’s your height and weight?” I told him, and when he did, he pulled out his phone, calculated my BMI, read it out loud, and said something along the lines of “You’re overweight. You need to exercise more.” He said that in front of my other family members. I felt absolutely humiliated. (6/16)

(I know he said something more about my weight and that I argued with him about it a little, but my memory fails me. It sucks when my brain involuntarily decides to suppress and blur memories just to save me from the pain and trauma of remembering them again.) (7/16)

Looking back, it was extremely petty to the point I’m ashamed of it, but as revenge, I started indirectly and directly calling him a “fat pig”. (My father’s actually overweight as well.) I remember when he asked me if I wanted to eat a plate full of bacon with eggs for breakfast, I told him “That much bacon? You’re such a pig!” The satisfaction and petty happiness I got every time I called him out and insulted him only lasted in those moments, though. (8/16)

Now, for context, I’ve always been overweight since childhood – and still am to this day. I mostly pass it off in the form of jokes to my friends and never tell my family about it (except for my brother), but I’ve always had a deep-seated hatred for how I look and how fat I am. I don’t think it would be out of bounds to say that my negative obsession with my weight and appearance has controlled and borderline ruined my life. (9/16)

But that incident at the dinner table, eating as normal with my family, was what really tipped me off the edge. While it only started small, my eating disorder has gradually grown worse since then – and now it’s come back at its absolute worst. (10/16)

Today has been the first day in at least a week (if not longer) that I’ve eaten anything close to a solid meal, and with the relapse of my eating disorder I think it might stay the only real meal I’ll eat for a long while. I’ve taken up exercising for two hours a day to burn off the extra calories, to the point I actually end up burning what little food I ate & suffer through the pain of an empty stomach after just to feel the satisfaction of my body eating away at itself. (11/16)

My brother (who I’ve told about my eating disorder in the past) has become suspicious and concerned about my weird eating patterns and constant exercise, but I’ve managed to pass it off as my depression screwing with my appetite and my simple want to just exercise since I’ve had nothing much to do in quarantine. I’ve said the same to the rest of my family. (12/16)

To my family, I’m on the right track. I’m getting better. I’m healthier. I’m happier. But I’m far from it. I claw at my bulging stomach and stretch marks until my skin goes red because it isn’t flat. I’ve pushed my legs to the point they cramp, ache, and tremble almost daily from my rigorous exercising. Every time I eat a solid meal and feel full, I beat myself up for eating too much when that hardly is (or just isn’t) the case. (13/16)

What I hate the most is that I’m actually happy I’m suffering, because at least through my pain I’ve begun to see results. My arms and wrists seem unbelievably thin, to the point I have to look at them and marvel at them sometimes at how they seem so skinny. Same goes for my legs and chest. But not my stomach. I absolutely loathe my stomach and wish for nothing more than for it to be flat. (14/16)

I know I’m sick. I know I’m in pain. I know I need help. But I don’t want to get help because my abusive household is hardly a place to get actual help, and aside from that, I’ve told myself “Why do I need help when this is already working? I’m finally getting thinner and prettier, I’m helping myself! Why do I need help for the help I’m already giving myself?” (15/16) 

Once again, thank you so so much for listening. My best wishes for you, and for any person that reads this. (16/16)

-----

Hi! Thank you so much for your kind words ❤ it makes me really happy to be able to help others, and this blog has helped me immensely as well. I absolutely do not mind if you send me more asks in the future!

As you can imagine, I’m not qualified to help with something as complex as this at all, and I agree that you need (and deserve!) professional help. But I also agree that your abusive household is hardly a place where you can get better even with help, and even though I’ve never had an eating disorder, I resonate a some of your experiences, especially with the feeling of wanting to punish yourself because of your parents’ comments about you. And I also resonate with the whole rationally knowing that you’re not okay and that there’s an explanation for everything you feel, but not wanting to fix any of it because hurting brings comfort and you feel like you deserve the pain you’re going through anyway. 

I’m sending you all the hugs and strength I have to spare, and a reminder that none of what’s happening is your fault. So even if your ED makes you feel guilt, I really hope you don’t feel any extra guilt for the fact that you’re struggling with it; that’s on your dad and his abuse toward you. You’re doing the best you can in the traumatising situation that you’re in.

Oh, and about calling your dad a pig: I think we’ve all had these kinds of petty moments growing up, especially if we were being bullied or abused and hadn’t learned any other ways of defending/standing for ourselves. You grow out of these things; it’s okay. Don’t beat yourself too much for it. ❤

[whyyallsweatin]

If you hate your job so much, just quit.

Psychiatric Emergency Services at Victoria’s Royal Jubilee Hospital is a department that is run like no other medical department in the world. The treatments used in first-line mental health crisis were not designed to address the neurological functions associated with mental distress outside of psychosis. Additionally, the hostile environment created by staff serves no purpose in the treatment of mental distress.

I’ve been there countless times. I have witnessed the procedures and noticed alarming patterns in procedures were applied not to chemically subdue patients experiencing a wide range of psychiatric ailments.

When you first walk in, you are asked to hand over your bag and cell phone by a nurse. You are then directed to sit down in one of the chairs in the waiting room. Assessment usually begins with a nurse who asks you a service of questions in order to relay that information to the psychiatrist. You are then asked to go back and wait to see the next doctor, usually a medical doctor. Following that, you will be given the opportunity to speak to a psychiatrist. The psychiatrist will recommend medication or hospitalization based on what they observe.

Patients who suffer from psychiatric problems like psychosis are often unmanageable, hostile and may be physically violent. Anti-psychotics are the first line medications used to treat drug-induced or schizophrenic episodes of psychosis by correcting the irregular dopamine functions associated with the ailment.

These seem like standard, reasonable procedures, but what makes PES unique is the unexplainable logic used to validate the administration of psychiatric drugs and execute deplorable personal treatment of patients by support staff. Unlike people suffering from physical pain, people who suffer from mental illness are vilified for questioning procedures that include detaining people isolation if they were forced to go to the hospital by family members, friends or law enforcement after showing signs that their mental health was a threat to their welfare, or the welfare of those around them.

Distressed people who do not want to go to the hospital usually become aggressive and demand to let out. In my case, a friend overreacted to something I said online and provoked a team of law enforcement and an ambulance to raid my home, handcuff me and deliver me to psychiatric emergency services. After hours of trying to get out, worrying about the welfare of my pets after the dramatic scene the RCMP and ambulance had created, I became hostile. I used the phone in the waiting area to call 911 and try and get out. Having previous experience with psychiatry, I knew I would likely be forced to take the magic bullet of psychiatric medicine: Seroquel.

I’ve taken Seroquel before, naively after my psychiatrist recommended it for insomnia. After taking it, I passed out cold and woke up with a terrible feeling of depression, dread, anxiety and depression. I immediately made the connection between the drug and these symptoms but did not realize that all anti-psychotics by their very mode of action are directly responsible for chemically inducing these kinds of mental disturbances.

Anyways, I asked for a piece of paper and wrote down a lengthy satire targeting the over prescription of Seroquel. I was then guided to a private observation room where several doctors and a psychiatrists who did not ask questions about my well-being but addressed the very behaviour I was displaying as a result of being detailed against my will, and the audacity I had in ridiculing the well-known practice of prescribing Seroquel for psychiatric disorders where no evidence existed to support the administration of the drug. She called me a psychopath and then used the opportunity to impress the room by listing the qualifications she had acquired various certificates and degrees. No explanation of why anti-psychotics were being administered for psychiatric ailments outside of psychosis was provided and the illogical argument that a variety of vague academic achievements somehow qualified the psychiatrist’s relentless devotion to this magical drug.

The very logic behind administering these drugs for a rainbow unrelated mental conditions is an unexplainable practice that is incomparable to any other medical practice in the world. The assumption that one drug can treat the extraordinarily complex functions associated with multiple mental illnesses seems so obviously faulty. In no other medical practice can a drug be used without any scientific proof to treat illnesses by chemically inducing the blockade of the very neurostransmitter responsible for creating positive emotional responses. The very neurotransmitter that upon release is scientifically proven to be the reason why people feel happy is chemically supressed by anti-psychotics and by removing the ability to experience the ‘happy’ emotion, these drugs treat depression. Depression is unhappiness. So by eliminating the ability to be happy, people who experience chronic unhappiness will benefit from a drug that by its very mode of action chemically castrates the brains ability to make happiness. What in the actual fuck is going on? Imagine a doctor prescribing smoking to cure lung cancer. That’s the same thing as treating depressive mood disorders by administering medication that restrains the ability to make happiness. Happiness is the opposite of depression, no? Am I missing something?

After that productive discussion, the psychiatrist used her power ‘punish’ me by committing me to the isolation room where I violently banged on the door for hours until guards came in to restrain and inject me with anti-psychotics.

I woke up on the cement floor to see that one of the nurses had thrown a plate of food into the isolation room. Most of the food had fallen off the plate and were on the cement, but by all accounts the nurse fulfilled the requirement of providing a psychiatric detainee with food. I did not eat the food. Additionally, the anti-psychotic administered created an overwhelming sense of depression, anxiety and dread. Extreme mental distressed, faced with the realization that my freedoms and psychiatric well being were at the mercy of psychiatric decisioning was incredibly traumatic. I was then escorted to another unit in the hospital and put in another isolation room. I passed out again and woke up startled, not knowing where I was.

I got up and knocked on the window and was met by a nurse who let me out. The ward was a small, windowless set of rooms and a common area for eating. The medication I took both suppressed my cognitive functions, and chemically induced a state of dysphoria and dread.

Several days past, and I was not considered well enough to join the adjacent ward where more freedoms were awarded to patients. The continued administration of anti-psychotics caused insomnia and ruminating thoughts throughout several nights and after about seven sleepless nights, my cognitive abilities were so limited that I failed to recognize where I was when the doctor asked me. By some miracle, I was able to string together the words required to ask the doctor to review the records the nurse had kept about my sleep. She had lied on her report and indicated that my sleep was excellent.

I still have vague memories of countless nights where I pled for help at the window that surrounded the nurse’s station. If she even ever paid attention to me, she would do so by opening the window and yelling the word, “no.”

There are no words I can use to try and describe the dysphoria that anti-psychotics produce. There is nothing that I can compare to the anguish of chemically induced states of mental distress that they cause by their very mode of neurological action in blockading dopamine, the chemical responsible for mental well-being. There is no way out and no relief.

Patients in the psychiatric ward at RJH are treated with palpable disrespect. The chemical restraints forced upon patients do not treat symptoms of mental illness outside psychosis. They subdue patients in order to make them manageable and ensure the safety of medical staff if they display warranted frustration with being locked away against their will. Nothing more.

After weeks of forced medication, the psychiatrist started to put me back on the medications I was used to taking before being admitted to the hospital. My mental health quickly improved after anti-psychotics were removed from the schedule. Eventually I was released, only to relapse into psychosis again after months of isolating and self-medicating the trauma induced anxiety brought on by my incarceration in the psych ward.

I’ll never forget how I helplessly pled for relief of the anxiety produced by anti-psychotics. The prolonged insomnia had profound impacts on my cognitive functioning were so frightening. After seven days of sleeplessness, the doctor finally administered a drug to put me to sleep. There are no words I have to express the utter lack of confidence in psychiatry that I have after being submitted to the abuses of medical professionals responsible for psychiatric patient care.  This was only the first, and not even the worst.

I can’t help but continuously think about the unrelenting desire support staff at the psych ward have to execute punitive actions on patients there, may they be the denial of medications they need to alleviate the unbearable stresses of forced incarceration or the overwhelmingly disdainful way in which they treat patients. I can only compare it to the way overworked parents abruptly address the frivolous demands of a fussy toddler. Only replace toddlers with adults and frivolous demands with helpless pleas for their lives. 

The logic in which drugs that produce unhappiness are used to create happiness in psychiatry is also prevalent in the way in which patients are subjected to treatment that would cause emotional distress in facilities believed to treat them.

These kinds of absurd realities in healthcare are far too unreal for people to believe. 

I can’t help but wonder why nurses who work there do work there. If you hate your job so much, do the world a favour and quit.

[stattic-writes]

Stone Snake

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[ms-marmar]

quarantine relapse

hey y’all! i hope you’re safe and healthy. with the state of things around the world, it’s hard not to feel distress, hopelessness, anxiety, pain, and a whole lot of other negative feelings. 

for one thing, quarantine has been difficult, to say the least. ive come to notice that many (myself included) have created expectations for themselves to practice certain behaviors during this pandemic in efforts to try to carry on as if things were normal, minimize the effects that this shift in environment has on us, and prevent ourselves from becoming “lazy.” ppl have set out to try to be more productive (from home), follow a schedule, dabble into new hobbies, work out from home, try new recipes and diets, etc. 

unfortunately, many face even more struggles with this pandemic than just a shift from their daily routine. many of you are facing insecurities regarding your health, employment, finances, and much more. such pressures can trigger increased anxieties and lead to the unhealthy coping mechanisms (ie. self harm, restricting, binging, purging, etc) that you’ve built up over time.

i struggled (and still struggle) to commit to a routine, often feeling guilty for failing to do so. i thought about how i was lucky to be in the comfort of my financially stable household, seemingly separated from the outside world and personally unaffected by the coronavirus. i have so much privilege in this moment that i shouldn’t be feeling such despair and instability. im stuck at home, with nothing to do but sit around on my laptop to attend online classes and try to find some hobbies to pass the time. even though everything else going in the world hangs in my mind like a grey cloud of concern, the biggest worry constantly invading my mind was just about what i had to eat. im sure youve heard ppl despair over the possibility of gaining weight by staying cooped up at home, unable to go outside or to the gym. in a house full of food, many of which are “fear foods” with long shelf lives, ive been battling the temptation to mindlessly binge on snacks all day. it’s also easy to opt out for restricting. for instance, when supplies are low at the store, you decide NOT to get that last loaf of bread, thinking someone else could use it more than you. by justifying that you dont need that food, it can become a cycle of justifying that you dont need any food. there’s also that feeling of guilt that arises when you do get the food, knowing full well it’s something that’ll just get purged. there are numerous experiences y’all have gone through and are (re)facing right now as a result of our present day. the pandemic has created circumstances in which new thoughts and anxieties provide a gateway to practicing disordered eating behaviors as a source of relief.

as a result of this quarantine climate, all these thoughts and expectations, many of which have resurfaced from the shame and guilt ive already felt for years, continued to build up. my concern over weight gain turned into fear, and i fell back into the vicious cycle of binging and purging. 

thing is, nothing right now is normal. the moment we’re living in is beyond control. it’s natural to feel helpless. however, we can’t let that take over our lives. the “little” things we can contribute every day to help the cause (ie. social distancing, limiting going outside, being hygienic, showing appreciation to essential workers, keeping yourself and others informed, donating to groups, etc) can go a long way. you’re not helpless if you can do something to show your support. additionally, we don’t need to punish ourselves for the changes we’re experiencing. staying at home might mean we don’t move around as often, and that’s okay. you being hungry after sitting all day? also okay! all these are natural as we adjust to these lifestyle changes. 

apologies i am late with this. for some, quarantine restrictions are easing up. however, pls continue to limit your outside excursions,practice social distancing and hygiene, and wear masks. times are ambiguous and cases are still very much present (and numbers continue to rise). in addition, social justice movements have experienced a recent surge. pls be safe and support your families, friends, and communities. we all deserve to be treated equally and need to stand up to oppressive systems in whatever ways we can. take time to educate yourselves and others, while maintaining a balance in order to not overwhelm yourselves and create more stress/anxiety. i know these ideas seem contradictory, but i know each of us have different thresholds for stress. find yours and develop healthy mechanisms to cope with them. reaching out is always the best option. 

takeaways n important things to keep in mind or try (some of which you may have already heard before; however, sometimes we need a reminder):

-its okay to relapse. recovery is full of ups n downs, its not linear

-u dont have to earn the right to eat. ur body is communicating to you what it needs. if you’re confused over your hunger and satiety levels, which often happens due to changes in brain chemistry, maybe this guideline is helpful. it’s from one of my lectures in an eating disorders class i took last quarter. act according to your body’s physiological responses. if you’re hungry, please eat. if you’re about to go over your fullness levels, please stop yourself and do something else to distract you. maybe call a friend to hold yourself accountable. ik everything is easier said than done, and i struggle with this myself, but every thought and effort counts:

-limit your media use. sometimes watching the news all day or watching how others seem to be doing great in quarantine can trigger anxiety and disappointment. opt for enjoyable activities, learn something new, or meditate. 

-try to eat regularly. 2-3 meals a day, with some snacks between. do not ignore your hunger cues. you might then become very hungry, which increases the likelihood of binging then purging. 

-you’re not alone. many articles have been written about how quarantine has made a hard blow to everyone, especially those with need insecurities and/or mental illness. i encourage you to please reach out to any trusted individual in some way if you’re experiencing any challenges. refer to the bottom of this post for some links about having ed’s during the pandemic. seek covid relief and emergency funds if you are in need (here’s an informational website with grant resources in the US link)

-having said that, seek out a support system. therapists, support groups, etc have moved online. now is the time to join them, especially if you haven’t had time in the past. talk to friends and/or family when you can. be transparent with your needs. 

-feel free to reblog with or comment any resources you may find helpful for others

there are definitely some viewpoints that i’ve missed, and i apologize if through this post i haven’t made you feel a part of this struggle when it’s something you also experience. i just want to say that every experience is valid, and they vary widely. eating disorders affect ANYONE. i wrote this mainly with my own experiences and observations in mind, and i’d love for you all to share your own stories. i want you to keep fighting through. i want you to see the end of this pandemic, to be able to go outside again and experience life to its fullest. all those plans you had but were forced to cancel? you can do them when things have become okay again. didnt have plans? make some so you have something to look forward to when this is over. you have to conquer this battle by putting your health first and realizing the danger you’re putting your body in when you engage in disordered eating. there’s so much waiting for you in the future. recovery is a long, hard journey that we’re reluctant to embark on at first. but i promise that nothing will feel as beautiful and relieving than when you live free from this toxic mindset. pls stay safe everyone. my heart goes out to you and all the different struggles you’re facing. we’re in this together. 

thank you if you’ve read this and made it this far. 

articles about ed’s during quarantine:

1 2 3 4 5 

ms-marmar xx

[readbookywooks]

O, for that warning voice, which he, who saw The Apocalypse, heard cry in Heaven aloud, Then when the Dragon, put to second rout, Came furious down to be revenged on men, Woe to the inhabitants on earth! that now, While time was, our first parents had been warned The coming of their secret foe, and 'scaped, Haply so 'scaped his mortal snare:  For now Satan, now first inflamed with rage, came down, The tempter ere the accuser of mankind, To wreak on innocent frail Man his loss Of that first battle, and his flight to Hell: Yet, not rejoicing in his speed, though bold Far off and fearless, nor with cause to boast, Begins his dire attempt; which nigh the birth Now rolling boils in his tumultuous breast, And like a devilish engine back recoils Upon himself; horrour and doubt distract His troubled thoughts, and from the bottom stir The Hell within him; for within him Hell He brings, and round about him, nor from Hell One step, no more than from himself, can fly By change of place:  Now conscience wakes despair, That slumbered; wakes the bitter memory Of what he was, what is, and what must be Worse; of worse deeds worse sufferings must ensue. Sometimes towards Eden, which now in his view Lay pleasant, his grieved look he fixes sad; Sometimes towards Heaven, and the full-blazing sun, Which now sat high in his meridian tower: Then, much revolving, thus in sighs began. O thou, that, with surpassing glory crowned, Lookest from thy sole dominion like the God Of this new world; at whose sight all the stars Hide their diminished heads; to thee I call, But with no friendly voice, and add thy name, Of Sun! to tell thee how I hate thy beams, That bring to my remembrance from what state I fell, how glorious once above thy sphere; Till pride and worse ambition threw me down Warring in Heaven against Heaven's matchless King: Ah, wherefore! he deserved no such return From me, whom he created what I was In that bright eminence, and with his good Upbraided none; nor was his service hard. What could be less than to afford him praise, The easiest recompence, and pay him thanks, How due! yet all his good proved ill in me, And wrought but malice; lifted up so high I sdeined subjection, and thought one step higher Would set me highest, and in a moment quit The debt immense of endless gratitude, So burdensome still paying, still to owe, Forgetful what from him I still received, And understood not that a grateful mind By owing owes not, but still pays, at once Indebted and discharged; what burden then O, had his powerful destiny ordained Me some inferiour Angel, I had stood Then happy; no unbounded hope had raised Ambition!  Yet why not some other Power As great might have aspired, and me, though mean, Drawn to his part; but other Powers as great Fell not, but stand unshaken, from within Or from without, to all temptations armed. Hadst thou the same free will and power to stand? Thou hadst: whom hast thou then or what to accuse, But Heaven's free love dealt equally to all? Be then his love accursed, since love or hate, To me alike, it deals eternal woe. Nay, cursed be thou; since against his thy will Chose freely what it now so justly rues. Me miserable! which way shall I fly Infinite wrath, and infinite despair? Which way I fly is Hell; myself am Hell; And, in the lowest deep, a lower deep Still threatening to devour me opens wide, To which the Hell I suffer seems a Heaven. O, then, at last relent:  Is there no place Left for repentance, none for pardon left? None left but by submission; and that word Disdain forbids me, and my dread of shame Among the Spirits beneath, whom I seduced With other promises and other vaunts Than to submit, boasting I could subdue The Omnipotent.  Ay me! they little know How dearly I abide that boast so vain, Under what torments inwardly I groan, While they adore me on the throne of Hell. With diadem and scepter high advanced, The lower still I fall, only supreme In misery:  Such joy ambition finds. But say I could repent, and could obtain, By act of grace, my former state; how soon Would highth recall high thoughts, how soon unsay What feigned submission swore?  Ease would recant Vows made in pain, as violent and void. For never can true reconcilement grow, Where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep: Which would but lead me to a worse relapse And heavier fall:  so should I purchase dear Short intermission bought with double smart. This knows my Punisher; therefore as far From granting he, as I from begging, peace; All hope excluded thus, behold, in stead Mankind created, and for him this world. So farewell, hope; and with hope farewell, fear; Farewell, remorse! all good to me is lost; Evil, be thou my good; by thee at least Divided empire with Heaven's King I hold, By thee, and more than half perhaps will reign; As Man ere long, and this new world, shall know. Thus while he spake, each passion dimmed his face Thrice changed with pale, ire, envy, and despair; Which marred his borrowed visage, and betrayed Him counterfeit, if any eye beheld. For heavenly minds from such distempers foul Are ever clear.  Whereof he soon aware, Each perturbation smoothed with outward calm, Artificer of fraud; and was the first That practised falsehood under saintly show, Deep malice to conceal, couched with revenge: Yet not enough had practised to deceive Uriel once warned; whose eye pursued him down The way he went, and on the Assyrian mount Saw him disfigured, more than could befall Spirit of happy sort; his gestures fierce He marked and mad demeanour, then alone, As he supposed, all unobserved, unseen. So on he fares, and to the border comes Of Eden, where delicious Paradise, Now nearer, crowns with her enclosure green, As with a rural mound, the champaign head Of a steep wilderness, whose hairy sides Access denied; and overhead upgrew Insuperable height of loftiest shade, Cedar, and pine, and fir, and branching palm, A sylvan scene, and, as the ranks ascend, Shade above shade, a woody theatre Of stateliest view. Yet higher than their tops The verdurous wall of Paradise upsprung;                          00081429 Which to our general sire gave prospect large Into his nether empire neighbouring round. And higher than that wall a circling row Of goodliest trees, loaden with fairest fruit, Blossoms and fruits at once of golden hue, Appeared, with gay enamelled colours mixed: On which the sun more glad impressed his beams Than in fair evening cloud, or humid bow, When God hath showered the earth; so lovely seemed That landskip:  And of pure now purer air Meets his approach, and to the heart inspires Vernal delight and joy, able to drive All sadness but despair:  Now gentle gales, Fanning their odoriferous wings, dispense Native perfumes, and whisper whence they stole Those balmy spoils.  As when to them who fail Beyond the Cape of Hope, and now are past Mozambick, off at sea north-east winds blow Sabean odours from the spicy shore Of Araby the blest; with such delay Well pleased they slack their course, and many a league Cheered with the grateful smell old Ocean smiles: So entertained those odorous sweets the Fiend, Who came their bane; though with them better pleased Than Asmodeus with the fishy fume That drove him, though enamoured, from the spouse Of Tobit's son, and with a vengeance sent From Media post to Egypt, there fast bound. Now to the ascent of that steep savage hill Satan had journeyed on, pensive and slow; But further way found none, so thick entwined, As one continued brake, the undergrowth Of shrubs and tangling bushes had perplexed All path of man or beast that passed that way. One gate there only was, and that looked east On the other side: which when the arch-felon saw, Due entrance he disdained; and, in contempt, At one flight bound high over-leaped all bound Of hill or highest wall, and sheer within Lights on his feet.  As when a prowling wolf, Whom hunger drives to seek new haunt for prey, Watching where shepherds pen their flocks at eve In hurdled cotes amid the field secure, Leaps o'er the fence with ease into the fold: Or as a thief, bent to unhoard the cash Of some rich burgher, whose substantial doors, Cross-barred and bolted fast, fear no assault, In at the window climbs, or o'er the tiles: So clomb this first grand thief into God's fold; So since into his church lewd hirelings climb. Thence up he flew, and on the tree of life, The middle tree and highest there that grew, Sat like a cormorant; yet not true life Thereby regained, but sat devising death To them who lived; nor on the virtue thought Of that life-giving plant, but only used For prospect, what well used had been the pledge Of immortality.  So little knows Any, but God alone, to value right The good before him, but perverts best things To worst abuse, or to their meanest use. Beneath him with new wonder now he views, To all delight of human sense exposed, In narrow room, Nature's whole wealth, yea more, A Heaven on Earth:  For blissful Paradise Of God the garden was, by him in the east Of Eden planted; Eden stretched her line From Auran eastward to the royal towers Of great Seleucia, built by Grecian kings, Of where the sons of Eden long before Dwelt in Telassar:  In this pleasant soil His far more pleasant garden God ordained; Out of the fertile ground he caused to grow All trees of noblest kind for sight, smell, taste; And all amid them stood the tree of life, High eminent, blooming ambrosial fruit Of vegetable gold; and next to life, Our death, the tree of knowledge, grew fast by, Knowledge of good bought dear by knowing ill. Southward through Eden went a river large, Nor changed his course, but through the shaggy hill Passed underneath ingulfed; for God had thrown That mountain as his garden-mould high raised Upon the rapid current, which, through veins Of porous earth with kindly thirst up-drawn, Rose a fresh fountain, and with many a rill Watered the garden; thence united fell Down the steep glade, and met the nether flood, Which from his darksome passage now appears, And now, divided into four main streams, Runs diverse, wandering many a famous realm And country, whereof here needs no account; But rather to tell how, if Art could tell, How from that sapphire fount the crisped brooks, Rolling on orient pearl and sands of gold, With mazy errour under pendant shades Ran nectar, visiting each plant, and fed Flowers worthy of Paradise, which not nice Art In beds and curious knots, but Nature boon Poured forth profuse on hill, and dale, and plain, Both where the morning sun first warmly smote The open field, and where the unpierced shade Imbrowned the noontide bowers:  Thus was this place A happy rural seat of various view; Groves whose rich trees wept odorous gums and balm, Others whose fruit, burnished with golden rind, Hung amiable, Hesperian fables true, If true, here only, and of delicious taste: Betwixt them lawns, or level downs, and flocks Grazing the tender herb, were interposed, Or palmy hillock; or the flowery lap Of some irriguous valley spread her store, Flowers of all hue, and without thorn the rose: Another side, umbrageous grots and caves Of cool recess, o'er which the mantling vine Lays forth her purple grape, and gently creeps Luxuriant; mean while murmuring waters fall Down the slope hills, dispersed, or in a lake, That to the fringed bank with myrtle crowned Her crystal mirrour holds, unite their streams. The birds their quire apply; airs, vernal airs, Breathing the smell of field and grove, attune The trembling leaves, while universal Pan, Knit with the Graces and the Hours in dance, Led on the eternal Spring.  Not that fair field Of Enna, where Proserpine gathering flowers, Herself a fairer flower by gloomy Dis Was gathered, which cost Ceres all that pain To seek her through the world; nor that sweet grove Of Daphne by Orontes, and the inspired Castalian spring, might with this Paradise Of Eden strive; nor that Nyseian isle Girt with the river Triton, where old Cham, Whom Gentiles Ammon call and Libyan Jove, Hid Amalthea, and her florid son Young Bacchus, from his stepdame Rhea's eye; Nor where Abassin kings their issue guard, Mount Amara, though this by some supposed True Paradise under the Ethiop line By Nilus' head, enclosed with shining rock, A whole day's journey high, but wide remote From this Assyrian garden, where the Fiend Saw, undelighted, all delight, all kind Of living creatures, new to sight, and strange Two of far nobler shape, erect and tall, Godlike erect, with native honour clad In naked majesty seemed lords of all: And worthy seemed; for in their looks divine The image of their glorious Maker shone, Truth, wisdom, sanctitude severe and pure, (Severe, but in true filial freedom placed,) Whence true authority in men; though both Not equal, as their sex not equal seemed; For contemplation he and valour formed; For softness she and sweet attractive grace; He for God only, she for God in him: His fair large front and eye sublime declared Absolute rule; and hyacinthine locks Round from his parted forelock manly hung Clustering, but not beneath his shoulders broad: She, as a veil, down to the slender waist Her unadorned golden tresses wore Dishevelled, but in wanton ringlets waved As the vine curls her tendrils, which implied Subjection, but required with gentle sway, And by her yielded, by him best received, Yielded with coy submission, modest pride, And sweet, reluctant, amorous delay. Nor those mysterious parts were then concealed; Then was not guilty shame, dishonest shame Of nature's works, honour dishonourable, Sin-bred, how have ye troubled all mankind With shows instead, mere shows of seeming pure, And banished from man's life his happiest life, Simplicity and spotless innocence! So passed they naked on, nor shunned the sight Of God or Angel; for they thought no ill: So hand in hand they passed, the loveliest pair, That ever since in love's embraces met; Adam the goodliest man of men since born His sons, the fairest of her daughters Eve. Under a tuft of shade that on a green Stood whispering soft, by a fresh fountain side They sat them down; and, after no more toil Of their sweet gardening labour than sufficed To recommend cool Zephyr, and made ease More easy, wholesome thirst and appetite More grateful, to their supper-fruits they fell, Nectarine fruits which the compliant boughs Yielded them, side-long as they sat recline On the soft downy bank damasked with flowers: The savoury pulp they chew, and in the rind, Still as they thirsted, scoop the brimming stream; Nor gentle purpose, nor endearing smiles Wanted, nor youthful dalliance, as beseems Fair couple, linked in happy nuptial league, Alone as they.  About them frisking played All beasts of the earth, since wild, and of all chase In wood or wilderness, forest or den; Sporting the lion ramped, and in his paw Dandled the kid; bears, tigers, ounces, pards, Gambolled before them; the unwieldy elephant, To make them mirth, used all his might, and wreathed His?kithetmroboscis; close the serpent sly, Insinuating, wove with Gordian twine His braided train, and of his fatal guile Gave proof unheeded; others on the grass Couched, and now filled with pasture gazing sat, Or bedward ruminating; for the sun, Declined, was hasting now with prone career To the ocean isles, and in the ascending scale Of Heaven the stars that usher evening rose: When Satan still in gaze, as first he stood, Scarce thus at length failed speech recovered sad. O Hell! what do mine eyes with grief behold! Into our room of bliss thus high advanced Creatures of other mould, earth-born perhaps, Not Spirits, yet to heavenly Spirits bright Little inferiour; whom my thoughts pursue With wonder, and could love, so lively shines In them divine resemblance, and such grace The hand that formed them on their shape hath poured. Ah! gentle pair, ye little think how nigh Your change approaches, when all these delights Will vanish, and deliver ye to woe; More woe, the more your taste is now of joy; Happy, but for so happy ill secured Long to continue, and this high seat your Heaven Ill fenced for Heaven to keep out such a foe As now is entered; yet no purposed foe To you, whom I could pity thus forlorn, Though I unpitied:  League with you I seek, And mutual amity, so strait, so close, That I with you must dwell, or you with me Henceforth; my dwelling haply may not please, Like this fair Paradise, your sense; yet such Accept your Maker's work; he gave it me, Which I as freely give:  Hell shall unfold, To entertain you two, her widest gates, And send forth all her kings; there will be room, Not like these narrow limits, to receive Your numerous offspring; if no better place, Thank him who puts me loth to this revenge On you who wrong me not for him who wronged. And should I at your harmless innocence Melt, as I do, yet publick reason just, Honour and empire with revenge enlarged, By conquering this new world, compels me now To do what else, though damned, I should abhor. So spake the Fiend, and with necessity, The tyrant's plea, excused his devilish deeds. Then from his lofty stand on that high tree Down he alights among the sportful herd Of those four-footed kinds, himself now one, Now other, as their shape served best his end Nearer to view his prey, and, unespied, To mark what of their state he more might learn, By word or action marked. About them round A lion now he stalks with fiery glare; Then as a tiger, who by chance hath spied In some purlieu two gentle fawns at play, Straight couches close, then, rising, changes oft His couchant watch, as one who chose his ground, Whence rushing, he might surest seize them both, Griped in each paw: when, Adam first of men To first of women Eve thus moving speech, Turned him, all ear to hear new utterance flow. Sole partner, and sole part, of all these joys, Dearer thyself than all; needs must the Power That made us, and for us this ample world, Be infinitely good, and of his good As liberal and free as infinite; That raised us from the dust, and placed us here In all this happiness, who at his hand Have nothing merited, nor can perform Aught whereof he hath need; he who requires From us no other service than to keep This one, this easy charge, of all the trees In Paradise that bear delicious fruit So various, not to taste that only tree Of knowledge, planted by the tree of life; So near grows death to life, whate'er death is, Some dreadful thing no doubt; for well thou knowest God hath pronounced it death to taste that tree, The only sign of our obedience left, Among so many signs of power and rule Conferred upon us, and dominion given Over all other creatures that possess Earth, air, and sea.  Then let us not think hard One easy prohibition, who enjoy Free leave so large to all things else, and choice Unlimited of manifold delights: But let us ever praise him, and extol His bounty, following our delightful task, To prune these growing plants, and tend these flowers, Which were it toilsome, yet with thee were sweet. To whom thus Eve replied.  O thou for whom And from whom I was formed, flesh of thy flesh, And without whom am to no end, my guide And head! what thou hast said is just and right. For we to him indeed all praises owe, And daily thanks; I chiefly, who enjoy So far the happier lot, enjoying thee Pre-eminent by so much odds, while thou Like consort to thyself canst no where find. That day I oft remember, when from sleep I first awaked, and found myself reposed Under a shade on flowers, much wondering where And what I was, whence thither brought, and how. Not distant far from thence a murmuring sound Of waters issued from a cave, and spread Into a liquid plain, then stood unmoved Pure as the expanse of Heaven; I thither went With unexperienced thought, and laid me down On the green bank, to look into the clear Smooth lake, that to me seemed another sky. As I bent down to look, just opposite A shape within the watery gleam appeared, Bending to look on me:  I started back, It started back; but pleased I soon returned, Pleased it returned as soon with answering looks Of sympathy and love:  There I had fixed Mine eyes till now, and pined with vain desire, Had not a voice thus warned me;  'What thou seest, 'What there thou seest, fair Creature, is thyself; 'With thee it came and goes: but follow me, 'And I will bring thee where no shadow stays 'Thy coming, and thy soft embraces, he 'Whose image thou art; him thou shalt enjoy 'Inseparably thine, to him shalt bear 'Multitudes like thyself, and thence be called 'Mother of human race.'  What could I do, But follow straight, invisibly thus led? Till I espied thee, fair indeed and tall, Under a platane; yet methought less fair, Less winning soft, less amiably mild, Than that smooth watery image:  Back I turned; Thou following cryedst aloud, 'Return, fair Eve; 'Whom flyest thou?  whom thou flyest, of him thou art, 'His flesh, his bone; to give thee being I lent 'Out of my side to thee, nearest my heart, 'Substantial life, to have thee by my side 'Henceforth an individual solace dear; 'Part of my soul I seek thee, and thee claim 'My other half:'  With that thy gentle hand Seised mine:  I yielded;and from that time see How beauty is excelled by manly grace, And wisdom, which alone is truly fair. So spake our general mother, and with eyes Of conjugal attraction unreproved, And meek surrender, half-embracing leaned On our first father; half her swelling breast Naked met his, under the flowing gold Of her loose tresses hid: he in delight Both of her beauty, and submissive charms, Smiled with superiour love, as Jupiter On Juno smiles, when he impregns the clouds That shed Mayflowers; and pressed her matron lip With kisses pure:  Aside the Devil turned For envy; yet with jealous leer malign Eyed them askance, and to himself thus plained. Sight hateful, sight tormenting! thus these two, Imparadised in one another's arms, The happier Eden, shall enjoy their fill Of bliss on bliss; while I to Hell am thrust, Where neither joy nor love, but fierce desire, Among our other torments not the least, Still unfulfilled with pain of longing pines. Yet let me not forget what I have gained From their own mouths:  All is not theirs, it seems; One fatal tree there stands, of knowledge called, Forbidden them to taste:  Knowledge forbidden Suspicious, reasonless.  Why should their Lord Envy them that?  Can it be sin to know? Can it be death?  And do they only stand By ignorance?  Is that their happy state, The proof of their obedience and their faith? O fair foundation laid whereon to build Their ruin! hence I will excite their minds With more desire to know, and to reject Envious commands, invented with design To keep them low, whom knowledge might exalt Equal with Gods: aspiring to be such, They taste and die:  What likelier can ensue But first with narrow search I must walk round This garden, and no corner leave unspied; A chance but chance may lead where I may meet Some wandering Spirit of Heaven by fountain side, Or in thick shade retired, from him to draw What further would be learned.  Live while ye may, Yet happy pair; enjoy, till I return, Short pleasures, for long woes are to succeed! So saying, his proud step he scornful turned, But with sly circumspection, and began Through wood, through waste, o'er hill, o'er dale, his roam Mean while in utmost longitude, where Heaven With earth and ocean meets, the setting sun Slowly descended, and with right aspect Against the eastern gate of Paradise Levelled his evening rays:  It was a rock Of alabaster, piled up to the clouds, Conspicuous far, winding with one ascent Accessible from earth, one entrance high; The rest was craggy cliff, that overhung Still as it rose, impossible to climb. Betwixt these rocky pillars Gabriel sat, Chief of the angelick guards, awaiting night; About him exercised heroick games The unarmed youth of Heaven, but nigh at hand Celestial armoury, shields, helms, and spears, Hung high with diamond flaming, and with gold. Thither came Uriel, gliding through the even On a sun-beam, swift as a shooting star In autumn thwarts the night, when vapours fired Impress the air, and shows the mariner From what point of his compass to beware Impetuous winds:  He thus began in haste. Gabriel, to thee thy course by lot hath given Charge and strict watch, that to this happy place No evil thing approach or enter in. This day at highth of noon came to my sphere A Spirit, zealous, as he seemed, to know More of the Almighty's works, and chiefly Man, God's latest image:  I described his way Bent all on speed, and marked his aery gait; But in the mount that lies from Eden north, Where he first lighted, soon discerned his looks Alien from Heaven, with passions foul obscured: Mine eye pursued him still, but under shade Lost sight of him:  One of the banished crew, I fear, hath ventured from the deep, to raise New troubles; him thy care must be to find. To whom the winged warriour thus returned. Uriel, no wonder if thy perfect sight, Amid the sun's bright circle where thou sitst, See far and wide:  In at this gate none pass The vigilance here placed, but such as come Well known from Heaven; and since meridian hour No creature thence:  If Spirit of other sort, So minded, have o'er-leaped these earthly bounds On purpose, hard thou knowest it to exclude Spiritual substance with corporeal bar. But if within the circuit of these walks, In whatsoever shape he lurk, of whom Thou tellest, by morrow dawning I shall know. So promised he; and Uriel to his charge Returned on that bright beam, whose point now raised Bore him slope downward to the sun now fallen Beneath the Azores; whether the prime orb, Incredible how swift, had thither rolled Diurnal, or this less volubil earth, By shorter flight to the east, had left him there Arraying with reflected purple and gold The clouds that on his western throne attend. Now came still Evening on, and Twilight gray Had in her sober livery all things clad; Silence accompanied; for beast and bird, They to their grassy couch, these to their nests Were slunk, all but the wakeful nightingale; She all night long her amorous descant sung; Silence was pleased:  Now glowed the firmament With living sapphires:  Hesperus, that led The starry host, rode brightest, till the moon, Rising in clouded majesty, at length Apparent queen unveiled her peerless light, And o'er the dark her silver mantle threw. When Adam thus to Eve.  Fair Consort, the hour Of night, and all things now retired to rest, Mind us of like repose; since God hath set Labour and rest, as day and night, to men Successive; and the timely dew of sleep, Now falling with soft slumbrous weight, inclines Our eye-lids:  Other creatures all day long Rove idle, unemployed, and less need rest; Man hath his daily work of body or mind Appointed, which declares his dignity, And the regard of Heaven on all his ways; While other animals unactive range, And of their doings God takes no account. To-morrow, ere fresh morning streak the east With first approach of light, we must be risen, And at our pleasant labour, to reform Yon flowery arbours, yonder alleys green, Our walk at noon, with branches overgrown, That mock our scant manuring, and require More hands than ours to lop their wanton growth: Those blossoms also, and those dropping gums, That lie bestrown, unsightly and unsmooth, Ask riddance, if we mean to tread with ease; Mean while, as Nature wills, night bids us rest. To whom thus Eve, with perfect beauty adorned My Author and Disposer, what thou bidst Unargued I obey:  So God ordains; God is thy law, thou mine:  To know no more Is woman's happiest knowledge, and her praise. With thee conversing I forget all time; All seasons, and their change, all please alike. Sweet is the breath of Morn, her rising sweet, With charm of earliest birds:  pleasant the sun, When first on this delightful land he spreads His orient beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and flower, Glistering with dew; fragrant the fertile earth After soft showers; and sweet the coming on Of grateful Evening mild; then silent Night, With this her solemn bird, and this fair moon, And these the gems of Heaven, her starry train: But neither breath of Morn, when she ascends With charm of earliest birds; nor rising sun On this delightful land; nor herb, fruit, flower, Glistering with dew; nor fragrance after showers; Nor grateful Evening mild; nor silent Night, With this her solemn bird, nor walk by moon, Or glittering star-light, without thee is sweet. But wherefore all night long shine these? for whom This glorious sight, when sleep hath shut all eyes? To whom our general ancestor replied. Daughter of God and Man, accomplished Eve, These have their course to finish round the earth, By morrow evening, and from land to land In order, though to nations yet unborn, Ministring light prepared, they set and rise; Lest total Darkness should by night regain Her old possession, and extinguish life In Nature and all things; which these soft fires Not only enlighten, but with kindly heat Of various influence foment and warm, Temper or nourish, or in part shed down Their stellar virtue on all kinds that grow On earth, made hereby apter to receive Perfection from the sun's more potent ray. These then, though unbeheld in deep of night, Shine not in vain; nor think, though men were none, That Heaven would want spectators, God want praise: Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth Unseen, both when we wake, and when we sleep: All these with ceaseless praise his works behold Both day and night:  How often from the steep Of echoing hill or thicket have we heard Celestial voices to the midnight air, Sole, or responsive each to others note, Singing their great Creator? oft in bands While they keep watch, or nightly rounding walk, With heavenly touch of instrumental sounds In full harmonick number joined, their songs Divide the night, and lift our thoughts to Heaven. Thus talking, hand in hand alone they passed On to their blissful bower: it was a place Chosen by the sovran Planter, when he framed All things to Man's delightful use; the roof Of thickest covert was inwoven shade Laurel and myrtle, and what higher grew Of firm and fragrant leaf; on either side Acanthus, and each odorous bushy shrub, Fenced up the verdant wall; each beauteous flower, Iris all hues, roses, and jessamin, Reared high their flourished heads between, and wrought Mosaick; underfoot the violet, Crocus, and hyacinth, with rich inlay Broidered the ground, more coloured than with stone Of costliest emblem:  Other creature here, Bird, beast, insect, or worm, durst enter none, Such was their awe of Man.  In shadier bower More sacred and sequestered, though but feigned, Pan or Sylvanus never slept, nor Nymph Nor Faunus haunted.  Here, in close recess, With flowers, garlands, and sweet-smelling herbs, Espoused Eve decked first her nuptial bed; And heavenly quires the hymenaean sung, What day the genial Angel to our sire Brought her in naked beauty more adorned, More lovely, than Pandora, whom the Gods Endowed with all their gifts, and O! too like In sad event, when to the unwiser son Of Japhet brought by Hermes, she ensnared Mankind with her fair looks, to be avenged On him who had stole Jove's authentick fire. Thus, at their shady lodge arrived, both stood, Both turned, and under open sky adored The God that made both sky, air, earth, and heaven, Which they beheld, the moon's resplendent globe, And starry pole:  Thou also madest the night, Maker Omnipotent, and thou the day, Which we, in our appointed work employed, Have finished, happy in our mutual help And mutual love, the crown of all our bliss Ordained by thee; and this delicious place For us too large, where thy abundance wants Partakers, and uncropt falls to the ground. But thou hast promised from us two a race To fill the earth, who shall with us extol Thy goodness infinite, both when we wake, And when we seek, as now, thy gift of sleep. This said unanimous, and other rites Observing none, but adoration pure Which God likes best, into their inmost bower Handed they went; and, eased the putting off These troublesome disguises which we wear, Straight side by side were laid; nor turned, I ween, Adam from his fair spouse, nor Eve the rites Mysterious of connubial love refused: Whatever hypocrites austerely talk Of purity, and place, and innocence, Defaming as impure what God declares Pure, and commands to some, leaves free to all. Our Maker bids encrease; who bids abstain But our Destroyer, foe to God and Man? Hail, wedded Love, mysterious law, true source Of human offspring, sole propriety In Paradise of all things common else! By thee adulterous Lust was driven from men Among the bestial herds to range; by thee Founded in reason, loyal, just, and pure, Relations dear, and all the charities Of father, son, and brother, first were known. Far be it, that I should write thee sin or blame, Or think thee unbefitting holiest place, Perpetual fountain of domestick sweets, Whose bed is undefiled and chaste pronounced, Present, or past, as saints and patriarchs used. Here Love his golden shafts employs, here lights His constant lamp, and waves his purple wings, Reigns here and revels; not in the bought smile Of harlots, loveless, joyless, unendeared, Casual fruition; nor in court-amours, Mixed dance, or wanton mask, or midnight ball, Or serenate, which the starved lover sings To his proud fair, best quitted with disdain. These, lulled by nightingales, embracing slept, And on their naked limbs the flowery roof Showered roses, which the morn repaired.  Sleep on, Blest pair; and O!yet happiest, if ye seek No happier state, and know to know no more. Now had night measured with her shadowy cone Half way up hill this vast sublunar vault, And from their ivory port the Cherubim, Forth issuing at the accustomed hour, stood armed To their night watches in warlike parade; When Gabriel to his next in power thus spake. Uzziel, half these draw off, and coast the south With strictest watch; these other wheel the north; Our circuit meets full west.  As flame they part, Half wheeling to the shield, half to the spear. From these, two strong and subtle Spirits he called That near him stood, and gave them thus in charge. Ithuriel and Zephon, with winged speed Search through this garden, leave unsearched no nook; But chiefly where those two fair creatures lodge, Now laid perhaps asleep, secure of harm. This evening from the sun's decline arrived, Who tells of some infernal Spirit seen Hitherward bent (who could have thought?) escaped The bars of Hell, on errand bad no doubt: Such, where ye find, seise fast, and hither bring. So saying, on he led his radiant files, Dazzling the moon; these to the bower direct In search of whom they sought:  Him there they found Squat like a toad, close at the ear of Eve, Assaying by his devilish art to reach The organs of her fancy, and with them forge Illusions, as he list, phantasms and dreams; Or if, inspiring venom, he might taint The animal spirits, that from pure blood arise Like gentle breaths from rivers pure, thence raise At least distempered, discontented thoughts, Vain hopes, vain aims, inordinate desires, Blown up with high conceits ingendering pride. Him thus intent Ithuriel with his spear Touched lightly; for no falshood can endure Touch of celestial temper, but returns Of force to its own likeness:  Up he starts Discovered and surprised.  As when a spark Lights on a heap of nitrous powder, laid Fit for the tun some magazine to store Against a rumoured war, the smutty grain, With sudden blaze diffused, inflames the air; So started up in his own shape the Fiend. Back stept those two fair Angels, half amazed So sudden to behold the grisly king; Yet thus, unmoved with fear, accost him soon. Which of those rebel Spirits adjudged to Hell Comest thou, escaped thy prison? and, transformed, Why sat'st thou like an enemy in wait, Here watching at the head of these that sleep? Know ye not then said Satan, filled with scorn, Know ye not me? ye knew me once no mate For you, there sitting where ye durst not soar: Not to know me argues yourselves unknown, The lowest of your throng; or, if ye know, Why ask ye, and superfluous begin Your message, like to end as much in vain? To whom thus Zephon, answering scorn with scorn. Think not, revolted Spirit, thy shape the same, Or undiminished brightness to be known, As when thou stoodest in Heaven upright and pure; That glory then, when thou no more wast good, Departed from thee; and thou resemblest now Thy sin and place of doom obscure and foul. But come, for thou, be sure, shalt give account To him who sent us, whose charge is to keep This place inviolable, and these from harm. So spake the Cherub; and his grave rebuke, Severe in youthful beauty, added grace Invincible:  Abashed the Devil stood, And felt how awful goodness is, and saw Virtue in her shape how lovely; saw, and pined His loss; but chiefly to find here observed His lustre visibly impaired; yet seemed Undaunted.  If I must contend, said he, Best with the best, the sender, not the sent, Or all at once; more glory will be won, Or less be lost.  Thy fear, said Zephon bold, Will save us trial what the least can do Single against thee wicked, and thence weak. The Fiend replied not, overcome with rage; But, like a proud steed reined, went haughty on, Champing his iron curb:  To strive or fly He held it vain; awe from above had quelled His heart, not else dismayed.  Now drew they nigh The western point, where those half-rounding guards Just met, and closing stood in squadron joined, A waiting next command.  To whom their Chief, Gabriel, from the front thus called aloud. O friends!  I hear the tread of nimble feet Hasting this way, and now by glimpse discern Ithuriel and Zephon through the shade; And with them comes a third of regal port, But faded splendour wan; who by his gait And fierce demeanour seems the Prince of Hell, Not likely to part hence without contest; Stand firm, for in his look defiance lours. He scarce had ended, when those two approached, And brief related whom they brought, where found, How busied, in what form and posture couched. To whom with stern regard thus Gabriel spake. Why hast thou, Satan, broke the bounds prescribed To thy transgressions, and disturbed the charge Of others, who approve not to transgress By thy example, but have power and right To question thy bold entrance on this place; Employed, it seems, to violate sleep, and those Whose dwelling God hath planted here in bliss! To whom thus Satan with contemptuous brow. Gabriel? thou hadst in Heaven the esteem of wise, And such I held thee; but this question asked Puts me in doubt.  Lives there who loves his pain! Who would not, finding way, break loose from Hell, Though thither doomed!  Thou wouldst thyself, no doubt And boldly venture to whatever place Farthest from pain, where thou mightst hope to change Torment with ease, and soonest recompense Dole with delight, which in this place I sought; To thee no reason, who knowest only good, But evil hast not tried: and wilt object His will who bounds us!  Let him surer bar His iron gates, if he intends our stay In that dark durance:  Thus much what was asked. The rest is true, they found me where they say; But that implies not violence or harm. Thus he in scorn.  The warlike Angel moved, Disdainfully half smiling, thus replied. O loss of one in Heaven to judge of wise Since Satan fell, whom folly overthrew, And now returns him from his prison 'scaped, Gravely in doubt whether to hold them wise Or not, who ask what boldness brought him hither Unlicensed from his bounds in Hell prescribed; So wise he judges it to fly from pain However, and to 'scape his punishment! So judge thou still, presumptuous! till the wrath, Which thou incurrest by flying, meet thy flight Sevenfold, and scourge that wisdom back to Hell, Which taught thee yet no better, that no pain Can equal anger infinite provoked. But wherefore thou alone? wherefore with thee Came not all hell broke loose? or thou than they Less hardy to endure?  Courageous Chief! The first in flight from pain! hadst thou alleged To thy deserted host this cause of flight, Thou surely hadst not come sole fugitive. To which the Fiend thus answered, frowning stern. Not that I less endure, or shrink from pain, Insulting Angel! well thou knowest I stood Thy fiercest, when in battle to thy aid The blasting vollied thunder made all speed, And seconded thy else not dreaded spear. But still thy words at random, as before, Argue thy inexperience what behoves From hard assays and ill successes past A faithful leader, not to hazard all Through ways of danger by himself untried: I, therefore, I alone first undertook To wing the desolate abyss, and spy This new created world, whereof in Hell Fame is not silent, here in hope to find Better abode, and my afflicted Powers To settle here on earth, or in mid air; Though for possession put to try once more What thou and thy gay legions dare against; Whose easier business were to serve their Lord High up in Heaven, with songs to hymn his throne, And practised distances to cringe, not fight, To whom the warriour Angel soon replied. To say and straight unsay, pretending first Wise to fly pain, professing next the spy, Argues no leader but a liear traced, Satan, and couldst thou faithful add?  O name, O sacred name of faithfulness profaned! Faithful to whom? to thy rebellious crew? Army of Fiends, fit body to fit head. Was this your discipline and faith engaged, Your military obedience, to dissolve Allegiance to the acknowledged Power supreme? And thou, sly hypocrite, who now wouldst seem Patron of liberty, who more than thou Once fawned, and cringed, and servily adored Heaven's awful Monarch? wherefore, but in hope To dispossess him, and thyself to reign? But mark what I arreed thee now, Avant; Fly neither whence thou fledst!  If from this hour Within these hallowed limits thou appear, Back to the infernal pit I drag thee chained, And seal thee so, as henceforth not to scorn The facile gates of Hell too slightly barred. So threatened he; but Satan to no threats Gave heed, but waxing more in rage replied. Then when I am thy captive talk of chains, Proud limitary Cherub! but ere then Far heavier load thyself expect to feel From my prevailing arm, though Heaven's King Ride on thy wings, and thou with thy compeers, Us'd to the yoke, drawest his triumphant wheels In progress through the road of Heaven star-paved. While thus he spake, the angelick squadron bright Turned fiery red, sharpening in mooned horns Their phalanx, and began to hem him round With ported spears, as thick as when a field Of Ceres ripe for harvest waving bends Her bearded grove of ears, which way the wind Sways them; the careful plowman doubting stands, Left on the threshing floor his hopeless sheaves Prove chaff.  On the other side, Satan, alarmed, Collecting all his might, dilated stood, Like Teneriff or Atlas, unremoved: His stature reached the sky, and on his crest Sat Horrour plumed; nor wanted in his grasp What seemed both spear and shield:  Now dreadful deeds Might have ensued, nor only Paradise In this commotion, but the starry cope Of Heaven perhaps, or all the elements At least had gone to wrack, disturbed and torn With violence of this conflict, had not soon The Eternal, to prevent such horrid fray, Hung forth in Heaven his golden scales, yet seen Betwixt Astrea and the Scorpion sign, Wherein all things created first he weighed, The pendulous round earth with balanced air In counterpoise, now ponders all events, Battles and realms:  In these he put two weights, The sequel each of parting and of fight: The latter quick up flew, and kicked the beam, Which Gabriel spying, thus bespake the Fiend. Satan, I know thy strength, and thou knowest mine; Neither our own, but given:  What folly then To boast what arms can do? since thine no more Than Heaven permits, nor mine, though doubled now To trample thee as mire:  For proof look up, And read thy lot in yon celestial sign; Where thou art weighed, and shown how light, how weak, If thou resist.  The Fiend looked up, and knew His mounted scale aloft:  Nor more;but fled Murmuring, and with him fled the shades of night.