I. Book Nine At the beginning of Book Nine, Satan, having compassed the earth for the space of seven nights, returns on the eighth "as a mist by night into Paradise" (IX The Argument) and enters into a sleeping serpent, the "subtlest beast of all the field" (IX.86). He observes the beauty and majesty of earth, a seat perhaps "worthier of gods as built with second thoughts reforming what was old" (IX. 101-102), yet for him "all good ... becomes bane" (IX. 122-123). Where there is Satan, there is Hell, and "only in destroying" does he expect "to find ease to [his] relentless thoughts" (IX. 129-130). Again, Milton illustrates not only Satan's immeasurable pridefor Satan consoles himself with the thought of destroying in one day what God created in sixbut also his awareness of his own state: "But what will not ambition and revenge/ Descend to? ... Revenge at first though sweet/ Bitter ere long back on itself recoils./ Let it!" (IX. 168-173). Satan's distance from God is infinite, his descent into hatred and darkness total, and his intentions clear: "I seek but others to make such/ As I" (IX. 127-128). The balance of this part will consider: first, the separation of Eve from Adam; second, the Temptation and Eve's transgression; third, Adam's transgression; and, fourth, the consequencesfirst lust, then shame, and, finally, conflict and blame. In the first section it is argued that the reason for Eve's wish to separate from Adam is unclear; it is suggested that her departure is motivated by a desire to prove herself through "good works," a desire born of the feelings of inadequacy and guilt stirred up within her following the dream of disobedience in Book Four whose effects linger, Adam's consolation notwithstanding, until the very moment of the Fall. Arguably, this desire and attempt to earn what can never be earnedParadiseis arrogant and prideful, and leads directly to tragedy and sin, as pride always does. Thus, this episode may be viewed as Milton's commentary on the status and limits of good works. The second section argues that the case against Godthe case to which Paradise Lost is a response, i.e., the case that makes a justification of God's ways to Man an urgent necessity and not a mere vanity projectis more forceful than defenders of Milton realize, or readily admit. This section considers closely both the text of the Temptation episode as well as the theological response (or lack thereof) suggested by Milton. And then some more stuff in the other section! Let's Go!............i. The Separation of Adam and Eve After rising and offering worship to God, Adam and Eve discuss how the day may best be spent, for "much their work outgrew/ The hands' dispatch of two" (IX. 201-202). Eve suggests that they part and each work without the other's distraction lest "th' hour of supper come unearned" (IX. 225). Adam, responding, praises Eve for promoting good works, but reminds her, first, that labor has not been imposed by God so strictly as to debar refreshment whether in the form of food and drink or talk and sweet smiles (IX. 235-243) and, second, that danger lurks and thus they would be wise to remain each by the other's side. If Eve's suggestion is prompted by her accurate estimation of their labor and by her wish to earn the bounty given them, then Adam is right to praise her. Having gardened so wide (IX. 203), their task is greater than what they are able to handle. But, as Adam notes, that task is greater than what is demanded: "These paths and bow'rs doubt not our joint hands/ Will keep from wilderness with ease as wide/ as we need walk till younger hands ere long/ Assist us" (IX. 244-247). The disagreement appears to lie in Adam and Eve's divergent estimations of what is required of them. If Eve agrees with Adam that, in fact, they need do no more than keep clear the paths, then she is left with no reason to continue insisting on their separation. She responds, however, with offense taken at what she interprets as Adam's fear that her faith and love can "by [Satan's] fraud be shaken or seduced" (IX. 273-289). Adam assures her that his dissuasion is not to doubt her but, rather, to prevent any attempt by their foe, for such an attempt would "asperse the tempted with dishonor foul" and cause scorn, anger, and resentment at "the offered wrong/ Though ineffectual found" (IX. 296-301). If they remain together, then should Satan dare it he would assault Adam first, whose strength would only be bolstered by Eve's presence and, just the same, her strength by Adam's presence in turn. Yet Eve still doubts Adam's estimation of her "faith sincere" and points out that "harm precedes not sin," and their "happy state" could not have been "Left so imperfect by the Maker wise/ As not secure to single or combined." Happiness is not happiness if lived in constant fear, and Eden no Eden; "faith, love, [and] virtue unassayed ... without exterior help sustained," she suggests, are less than they would be tested (IX. 322-341). Adam denies that the shortcoming is God's; rather, within Man "The danger lies, yet lies within his power:/ Against his will he can receive no harm./ But God left free the will, for what obeys/ Reason is free, and reason he made right/ But bid her well beware and still erect/ Lest by some fair appearing good surprised/ She dictate false and misinform the will/ To do what God expressly hath forbid." Indeed, reason may meet "some specious object by the foe suborned/ And fall into deception unaware" (IX. 348-355). It is better, then, not to seek temptation for it will come unsought. The warning contained in Adam's response could not be clearer: you might come across a deceptive "object by the foe suborned" that presents a merely apparent good and that misguides reason, leading to violation of "what God expressly hath forbidden." In short: you may be deceived, by what seems both good and rational, into eating from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. Even so: "Go, for thy stay, not free, absents thee more" (IX. 372). And so she goeshe imploring her to quick return, and she promising to return, all things in best order, by noon. Eve's purpose in leaving is not clear. Either she persists in her belief, after Adam has told her otherwise, that the work they ought to do is more than what they would accomplish side by side, or there is some other reason. Given the conversation that preceded, perhaps she welcomes the opportunity to be tested. But that must not be it, for she does not "much expect/ A foe so proud will first the weaker seek" (IX. 382-383). Even so, it can be noted that, if her reason was either of the two mentioned here, this arguably expresses pride and arrogance on Eve's part. In the latter case, this is obvious: the self-estimation required to wander off confident in her ability to resist the great Liar is not modest, especially given the terror provoked by Eve's nightmare in Book Four. In the former case, it is less obvious. There the arrogance consists in the assumption, on Eve's part, that Paradise could ever be earned, through any amount of "good works." The reference to "good works" would have stood out to Milton's readers, and Milton no doubt knew this, for he was, of course, fully aware of the theological open questions of his time, namely, that of works vs. grace. But, on the other hand, it stands to reason that, in the absence of sin, neither Adam nor Eve could have had any notion of a moral insufficiency such that would render them unworthy or undeserving. If so, Eve's wish to labor is a genuine wish to please Godthough on this view her comment regarding the earning of supper seems strange, and, more importantly, it seems impossible that Milton was not fully aware of how and in what context such a comment would be understood by his audience, and certainly by the more educated among them. Perhaps, then, Eve (as opposed to Adam) did indeed feel that she had something to prove. After all, she (and not Adam) had already been tempted and succumbed, had already experienced the euphoria of disobedience, though in a dream, prompting the first tears cried by humankind. Although comforting her in that moment, perhaps Adam's rehearsal of faculty psychology, upon Eve's relating of the dream to him, failed to undo the damage done. Such a reading would render the dream episode more intelligible, as a matter of structure, although its function would remain clear enough otherwise: to prime Eve for seductionSatan could have had no other purpose but this, as no dream solely in itself, and certainly no dream caused so insidiously by the Archfiend, would on its own, then and there, bring about the Fall of Man. If this reading is granted, however, then it is also thereby admitted that the dream's effects persisted long after Adam's consolation the morning after. There are at least three other possible explanations for Eve's leaving Adam's side. First, she might have agreed with Adam's own point, that some time apart would only bring sweet reunion. This, however, is not supported by anything in the text. Second, if Eve agrees with Adam that, however safe she thinks they may be apart, they are nonetheless safer and stronger together, and she believes that Satan would not assault her first, then it follows that she also believes that Satan would strike Adam first. The only immediately obvious reason that she might wish this is that, as she herself noted, "what are faith, love, and virtue unassayed?" If she wanted Adam to prove himself and his love for her in this way, it would not be wildly out of character. This is a fairly speculative reading. Third, she may have been led away by a wish, though unconscious, that the dream be fulfilled. It cannot be objected that "she would never" because, of course, ultimately she does. But, again, this psychoanalytic theorizing does not find strong textual support. The last thing to be noted is that, after Adam offers his absolutely prophetic warningessentially, "beware of an encounter with something that looks good and sounds reasonable but tells you to break the one rule we have, the one against eating from the Tree"he bids Eve to prove first her obedience (IX. 368). She leavesan act of minor disobedience (for a kind of permission was, in fact, granted) and some pride and arrogance, as argued above. She then fails to heed Adam's warning as its every detail transpires in her encounter with Satan disguised as a serpent, leading to that far greater disobedience to which this essay now turns. i. The Temptation and Eve's Transgression It can be, and has been, argued that God is culpable in the Fall of Man. If Eve (and then Adam) succumbs to temptation then, given God's omniscience, it follows, first, that she was not created capable of resisting Satan's temptation, second, that God must have known this, and third, that He nonetheless created her that way, placed a source of temptation in Eden, and permitted the Tempter to penetrate its walls and accost the mother of humankind. Milton makes clear, however, that God has left the will free. Moreover, the thorough forewarning of Adam and Eve renders God blameless, which warning is repeated to Eve by Adam just prior to her departure. Milton's project is essentially a theodicy, however, and as such requires more than a mere assertion in the face of a difficulty as profound as that of squaring the free will of Man with the omniscience of God, and the existence of evil in Man's world with the goodness of God, its Creator. If mere assertion were sufficient, then Paradise Lost would have been an epic poem in one line: God is perfectly good and totally blameless. A theological resolution may be available to Milton, but the situation does not look promising. "Some specious object by the foe suborned/ And fall into deception unaware" Satan, in the form of the serpent, catches the attention of busy Eve and speaks, heaping upon her great praise, which words "Into the heart of Eve ... made way" (IX. 550). She, amazed, inquires as to the source of the serpent's ability to "speak the language" of man and "human sense express" (IX. 553-554). "Lest by some fair appearing good surprised/ She dictate false and misinform the will" The serpent relates that his abilities are consequent upon eating of a fruit, and Eve requests that he take her to the miraculous tree. "He leading swiftly rolled/ In tangles and made intricate seem straight to mischief swift." "Glistened the dire snake," and like "a wand'ring fire ... kindled through agitation to a flame/ Which oft, they say, some evil spirit attends,/ Hovering and blazing with delusive light,/ Misleads th' amazed night-wanderer from his way/ To bogs and mires and oft through pond or pool,/ There swallowed up and lost from succor far," so he led "Eve our credulous mother" "into fraud" (IX. 631-644). "But God left free the will, for what obeys/ Reason is free, and reason he made right/ But bid her well beware and still erect" Thus the serpent brings Eve to the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, whereupon she tells him that the journey was in vain, for "God hath said, 'Ye shall not eat/ Thereof nor shall ye touch it, lest ye die," repeating herself after only just relating that "of this tree we may not taste nor touch" (IX. 663-664, 652). Eve twice demonstrates her knowledge of the prohibition but, strangely, she also twice expands it, for no previous mention of the Tree indicates that it is forbidden to touch its fruit. Moreover, this surely could not have been an error on Milton's part, as he certainly knew that there was no such prohibition, neither in his own text nor in Genesis. Eve misquotes God and again burdens herself with more than what God demanded of her, the first instance being her resolve to garden beyond what was requireda resolve which, as is presently evident, has led her to no good. It is absolutely clear, then, that Eve, who recently argued that faith, love, and virtue must be tried by fire and proven, believes that she has something to prove. The source of this belief is either her acknowledged inferiority to Adam, the dream in Book Four, or both. It must not be first of these, for then it could be said that it was a catastrophic design flaw on God's part that left Eve so incredibly vulnerable to insecurity, self-doubt, and praise. This would be a terrible oversight even if there were no Tempter and no prohibition. It is concluded that the source of her desire to prove herself is not the first listed and, therefore, it is either the second or third. Either way, the dream is crucially involved. What remains unclear, however, is whether she is seeking to prove her virtue to God, to Adam, or to herself. The latter is not implausible, as a strong work ethic was seen, in Milton's time, as a sign of membership in the Elect. Now the serpent feigns concern for Eve and, like a well-trained orator, a sophist, presents his argument: What but an envious God, bent on keeping Man in ignorance of the good and the just, would set off limits this incredible fruit, which by its consumption makes beasts as though human and hence must have the power to make gods of Man? No just God could condemn such an act; in fact, it would be praiseworthy, demonstrating a will toward self-betterment. This God is suspicious indeed. The gods were here first, and intend to take advantage and dupe you, attributing to themselves all creation. If that were so, how did this forbidden tree get here? Besides, you won't die. Look at me. I ate from the tree and I'm still here, all the better for it, "a life more perfect have attained than fate/ Meant me by vent'ring higher than my lot" (IX. 689-690). So eat, goddess humane. Eat. Eat. Eat. "His words replete with guile/ Into her heart too easy entrance won" (IX. 733). The hour of noon drew on and, instead of making her promised return to Adam, she stood before the Tree, her "eager appetite raised" as her ears "rung of his persuasive words impregned/ With reason (to her seeming) and with truth" (IX 737-738). "Yet first/ Pausing a while thus to herself she mused:" (IX. 743-744)No doubt this glorious fruit is worthy of admiration: one taste has given speech to a serpent. Even God, who forbids it to us, doesn't hide its praise from us, naming it the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. In forbidding it He only recommends it all the more. If we do not know good, we cannot have goodand if we have good but do not know it, then that's the same as not having good at all. What are we forbidden then, but the good? But wisdom? Such prohibitions are not binding. But what use is this fruit and good and wisdom if the day we eat of it be the day we die? But the serpent ate of the Tree and lives, so was death invented for us alone? Is this Tree and its fruit, knowledge and intelligence, reserved only for the beasts? But this first beast to have eaten of it is a nice, friendly and honest fellow. What do I have to be afraid of? I wouldn't know, I suppose, what, with this imposed ignorance. The solution is right before me: this fruit of virtue to make wise. What's stopping me, then, from feeding both my body and my mind? (paraphrase of IX. 745-779)

"So saying, her rash hand in evil hour/ Forth reaching to the fruit, she plucked, she eat" (IX. 780-781).

There is no doubt that Eve is aware of the prohibition against eating from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. Yet she is led to do so by desire, which was primed in her, and by a logic that seems to her reasonable and true. Arguably, if the reasoning is sound, then her blameworthiness is substantially mitigated, if not totally nonexistent, for then the only tool available to her with which to guard against deception was not up to the task, a flaw for which she cannot be blamed. Thus it is necessary to reconstruct the chain of reasoning and to determine first where, if at all, her reason was led astray, and second, whether that deception was preventable or inevitable. The serpent's arguments boil down to the following. 1) "I ate of the Tree and I'm not only alive but better by far than I was beforetherefore, if you eat of the Tree you will not only live but will become as a God." This is clearly pure nonsense. First, if the Tree was not forbidden to the serpent on pain of death, then the serpent should not be expected to die upon eating its fruit. Second, that the fruit gave speech and sense to the serpent does not imply that it will give anything comparable to Eve. Third, she was just warned of an encounter with a specious object, appearing good, but suborned by the foe, which will confuse reason and implore her to break the one rule given by God, namely, the prohibition against eating from the Tree. A smooth-talking serpent that suggests lunchtime at the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil fits that bill. This sophistry and false reasoning alone should have been sufficient to raise an eyebrow. 2) "If God forbids you knowledge of good and evil, then there must be a good reason for it. But there is no good reason for it, therefore God must want to prevent you from attaining equal glory out of envy." This argument is not in itself terrible. The reason why something so apparently good should be forbidden to Man must have been mysterious to Eve. However, Eve's ignorance of any such reason does not imply that there is no such reason. The rational option is not to eat the fruit, but to bring her confusion either to Adam, whom she knows to be the brains of this operation, or to God, who surely must know His own purpose in setting the prohibition. 3) The previous is also the rational reaction to the serpent's argument that the presence of such a Tree, containing knowledge of good and evil, in Eden is inexplicable, since it isn't clear who put that knowledge into it. Besides, the obvious answer is simply that God put it there. If his purpose in doing so is mysterious, again, see Adam for elaboration or appeal to God. 4) "You see the earth bearing fruit with your own eyes, but do you see God creating all the stuff He claims responsibility for?" This idiocy is familiar from Satan's denial of his own creation by God as he prepared for the war in Heaven. A created being does not participate as an observer in his own creation and was obviously not around to witness the creation of what came before him. Moreover, since God has thus far given Eve nothing but Paradise, asked for nothing much in return, and provided no reason for her to doubt Him, she is not reasonable when she entertains the notion that there may be a celestial conspiracy against her and Adam. In summary, everything Satan says is either total nonsense, or warrants at most a discussion with Adam, not outright and immediate disobedience of God. Eve's musings to herself are equally dubious. First, if God wanted to prevent Adam and Eve from eating the fruit of the Tree out of envy, then he would have been wiser to lie and tell them that it was called the Tree of You're Going To Die if You Eat Me and I Taste Like Crap. Second, if Eve has a hundred questions, as she does, the rational thing for her to do, again, is to 1) observe her own ignorance, 2) acknowledge that no decision based on ignorance is rational, and 3) then ask those questions, instead of risking certain death through disobedience to God at the behest of a talking snake. Each of these lapses could have been prevented if Eve had heeded Adam's warning. That is, she is not let off the hook by any argument that claims reason was not up to the task of repelling and revealing Satan's deception for the gibberish it was. Eve's only hope for complete exhoneration now lies in the claim that this admitted failure of reason was inevitable for some other reason. The temptation would have had to be so strong that it rendered her incapable of saying "I hear what you're saying, but you're a talking serpent who came out of nowhere when I was alone, immediately after I was warned to be on the lookout for specious objects, such as talking serpents, because Satan is lurking about trying to kill me and my husband." As unlikely as that seems, the difficulty here is that she was, evidently, rendered incapable of saying so. Milton would deny this by reaffirming that the will is always free, unless God makes it otherwise, which he has not done in this case. There is no temptation so strong that it obliterates the ability to choose. But a philosophical difficulty persists. If there is an explanation, in terms of Eve's psychological set-up, for why desire triumphed over reason, then God is implicated because He was responsible for her psychological calibration and, being omniscient, must have known that, in the face of a temptation great enough, her reason would fail. If, however, there is not an explanation in terms of Eve's psychological set-up for why desire triumphed over reason, then perhaps God is not implicated, but neither is Eve, since the failure cannot be imputed to any faculty of hers. It just happened. Free will does not seem compatible with God's total foreknowledge. This puzzle could have been left open as a metaphysical mystery if it weren't at the very heart of Milton's justification of the ways of God to men. The problem demands treatmentthe contradiction involved can hardly be tolerated and, if unresolved, either implicates God in all evil and renders free will an illusion, or, if free will is to be saved, precludes the attribution of omniscience to God. Milton wants to have it both ways without providing any clear account of how the two horns of the dilemma are reconciled. Perhaps, just as Satan could never hope to win Heaven by his futile war, and even could never hope to earn the bounty of paradise by good works, so too we can never hope ?????????