| . . . . . . . . Into the groves she walked, surpassing even Diana of the hunt in her goddess-like deportment, though without bow and quiver, armed instead with such gardening tools as rudimentary art had formed or angels brought. With ardent look Adam's delighted eye pursued her long, but desired more her stay. He sent after her more than one plea for her quick return, and she promised to have noon meal prepared and waiting for him in the bower, leaving afternoon's sweet repose theirs to share. . . . . . Alas, never from that hour in Paradise was found either sweet repast or sound repose! Ambush hid among the flowers to intercept her way and send her back despoiled of innocence. For now, and since first break of dawn, had the fiend, mere serpent in appearance, pursued his quest in field and grove, by fountain or by shady stream, wherever some pleasant garden plot might invite the master and mistress of the land to pass their hours. He sought them both, but wished luck might find them separate, though little hoped, when to his wish, beyond hope, he spied her alone, veiled in a cloud of fragrance where she stood, so thick the roses glowed around her. Each gay flower of slender drooping stalk she gently uplifted and tied with a band of myrtle. Carnation, purple, azure, and gold they were—herself the fairest unsupported flower, so far from her own best support and mindless of the storm so near. . . . . . Nearer he drew, now boldly crossing walks sheltered by stately cedar and pine, now disappearing among the thick woven shrubs and flowers bordering each path, the handiwork of Eve. Such pleasure took the serpent to behold her heavenly form among the flowery plot—angelic, but more soft in graceful innocence—that her every gesture or least action subdued his malice and robbed his fierceness of the fierce intent it brought. Thus transported in that space, the evil one stood abstracted from his own evil, and for a time remained entranced, disarmed of enmity, of guile, hate, envy, or revenge. But the hot hell that always in him burns, even in mid-Heaven, soon ended his delight and brought back his torture, the more he saw of pleasure not intended for his taste. Fierce hate regrew and returned all thoughts of mischief, to destroy all pleasure save that which is had in destroying. Alone, the woman, vulnerable to all attempts, now offered him opportunity that must not pass, for nowhere in view was her more formidable partner, endowed with strength and proud courage, built of heroic limb and exempt from wound—not unlike Satan once was in Heaven, though now enfeebled by Hell's pain. . . . . . Across the ground, towards Eve, he wound his way with indented waves, not prone as his kind now moves, debased by his act, but rising in circular folds that towered fold above fold in a surging maze, his head crested high aloft, with jeweled eyes on burnished neck of green and gold, erect amidst his circling spirals. Never since has serpent kind more dazzling slid the earth. With oblique approach at first, as one who seeks access but hesitates to interrupt, sidelong he worked his varied way and curled many a wanton wreath in his tortuous train in sight of Eve, to lure her eye. Preoccupied, she heard the sound of rustling leaves, but took no mind, as she was used to the playful movements of animals in the garden. Bolder now, he stood before her, bowing his sleek enameled neck as if in admiring gaze, fawning, and licking the ground on which she trod. His gentle expression at length turned the eye of Eve . . . 
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