Vondel's Lucifer

 
I shall observe it well!
 

BELZEBUB. LUCIFER.

Belzebub:

 
The Stadtholder now hears the meaning of
This proclamation grave so proudly blown
By Gabriel's trumpet bold. How well he showed
Thee God's design! whose purpose thou may'st scent:
Thus shall he clip the wings of thy great power.
 

 
"But here hardby comes Heaven's interpreter."
 

Lucifer:

 
But not so easily: Ah! nay, forsooth;
I shall have care this purpose to prevent.
Let not a power inferior thus dream
To rule the Powers above.
 

Belzebub:

 
He maketh threat
Forthwith to crush Rebellion's head and crown.
 

Lucifer:

 
Now swear I by my crown, upon this chance
To venture all, to raise my seat amid
The firmament, the spheres, the splendor of
The stars above. The Heaven of Heavens shall then
My palace be, the rainbow be my throne,
The starry vast, my court, while, down beneath,
The Earth shall be my footstool and support.
I shall, then swiftly drawn through air and light,
High-seated on a chariot of cloud,
With lightning stroke and thunder grind to dust
Whate'er above, around, below, doth us
Oppose, were it God's Marshal grand himself.
Yea, e'er we yield, these empyrean vaults.
Proud in their towering masonry, shall burst
With all their airy arches and dissolve
Before our eyes: this huge and joint-racked Earth,
Like a misshapen monster, lifeless lie;
This wondrous universe to chaos fall.
And to its primal desolation change.
Who dares, who dares defy great Lucifer?
We cite Apollion.
 

Belzebub:

 
He is at hand.
 

APOLLION. LUCIFER. BELZEBUB.

Apollion:

 
O Stadtholder of God's unbounded Realm,
And Oracle within the Council of
The Gods subordinate, I offer thee
My service and await thy new commands.
What now the word—what of thy subject would
Thy Majesty?
 

Lucifer:

 
It pleaseth us to hear
Thy sense and thy opinion of a grave
And weighty plan that cannot fail to win.
Tis our intent to pluck the proudest plume
From Michael's wings, that our attempt upon
His mightiness shall not rebound as vain.
With his own arm as many oracles
He founds, as ever God Himself hath hewn
From deathless diamond with His hand. Behold
Now man exalted to the Heaven of Heavens,
Through all the circles of the spheres, then see
The Spirit world, so deep, so far below,
Even 'neath his footcloth there, like feeble worms
Already crawling in the dust. I joy
To storm this throne with violence, and thus
To hazard by one strong, opposing stroke
The glory of my state and star and crown.
 

Apollion:

 
An undertaking truly to be praised!
May it augment your crown and increase gain,
Based on such resolution: so I deem
It honors me thus to advise, 'neath thee,
The prosecution of a cause so bold.
Let this result for better or for worse,
The will is noble, even though it fail.
But lest we strive in vain and recklessly,
How best shall we begin so bold a plan?
How safest meet the point of that resolve?
 

Lucifer:

 
We subtly shall oppose our own resolve.
 

Apollion:

 
Sooth, there is pith in that. But what, pray, is
Our borrowed might, weighed in the scale against
The Power Omnipotent? Guard well thy crown;
For we fall far too light.
 

Belzebub:

 
Yet not so light,
But that the matter first shall hang in doubt.
 

Apollion:

 
By whom or how or where this plot begun?
Even such intent is treason 'gainst God's Throne.
 

Lucifer:

 
His Throne we'll not disturb; but cautiously
Mount up the steep incline, and those high peaks,
Ne'er blazed by path and ne'er ascended, climb.
Courage and prudence must, at length, o'ercome
And dare all dangers brave.
 

Apollion:

 
But not the Power
Omnipotent, nor yet His crown: approach
Thou not too near, or learn in sorrow that
Repentance comes too late. The lesser should
Submissively unto the greater yield.
 

Lucifer:

 
The great Omnipotent is far beyond
Our aim. Set forces like with like together.
Then learn whose sword is weightiest. I see
Our enemies in flight, the Heavens all ours
By one courageous stroke; our legions, too,
O'erladen with the spoil and glorious plunder.
Then let us further now deliberate.
 

Apollion.

 
Thou know'st what Michael, God's Field-marshal may:
'Neath his command are all God's legions placed.
He bears the key of the armoury here on high.
To him the watch is trusted, and he keeps
A faithful, sleepless eye on all the camps;
So that of all the galaxies of Heaven
Not even one star, in its celestial march,
Dare move itself the least, nor stir without
Its ranks. 'Tis easy to commence; but in
Such warfare to engage exceeds our might,
And drags a train of hardships in its wake.
"What ordnance and what martial enginery
Could e'er avail his legions proud to quell?
Should Heaven's castle ope its diamond port,
Nor stratagem, nor ambush, nor assault
Could bring it fear.
 

Belzebub:

 
But if our bold resolve
We strengthen with the sword, I see upon
Our standard, raised aloft, the morning-star
Defiance flashing till all Heaven's state
And rulership is changed.
 

Apollion:

 
The Fieldmarshal,
The valiant Michael, bears with no less fire
And pride God's wondrous name amid the field
Of his great banner, with the sun above.
 

Lucifer:

 
Though writ in lines of light, what boots a name?
Heroic deeds, as this, are ne'er achieved
With titles, nor with pomp; not by valor, spirit.
And subtle strokes in skill and cunning bred.
Thou art a master-wit with craftiness
The Spirits to seduce, them to ensnare,
To lead and to incite howe'er thou wilt.
Thou canst attaint even those among the watch
Of most integrity, and teach even those
To waver who had thought to waver never.
Begin, we see God's legions in two camps
Divided, lords and vassals roused to strife
And mutiny. The greatest part even now
Are blind and deaf, save to their own demands;
And one and all cry loudly for a chief.
If thou for us a fourth part canst allure,
"We'll crown thy craft and dexterous management
With place and honor. Go, this plot consider
With Belial, for it must be dark indeed,
Where he shall lose his way. His countenance,
Smooth-varnished with dissimulation's hue,
No master in such deep concealment owns.
My car I now ascend: think ye this over.
The Council hath convened, and now awaits
Our own attendance. We shall call you both
Within, as soon as ye shall come. And thou,
Chief Lord, guard with thy trusty followers
This mighty gate that to the palace leads.
 

BELIAL. APOLLION.

Belial:

 
God's Stadtholder doth serve himself with us
On high.
 

Apollion:

 
We fly together from his bow
Like speeding arrows.
 

Belial:

 
And both aimèd are
Even at one mark, though perilous to reach.
 

Apollion:

 
Ere long the Heavens shall crack 'neath our tempt.
 

Belial:

 
Let crack what will, the matter must proceed.
 

Apollion:

 
How then this cause to best advantage grasp?
 

Belial:

 
The weapons favor us: we first must gain
The guard.
 

Apollion:

 
The chieftains first, and with them we
The bravest troops must then succeed in winning.
 

Belial:

 
Through something specious, 'neath some seeming 'guised.
 

Apollion:

 
Name thou this thing. Come, say what thou shalt call it.
 

Belial:

 
Our Angel Realm must be maintained, its state,
Its honor, and its privilege, so choose
A chief, on whom each can reliance place.
 

Apollion:

 
Thou comprehendest well: no better cause
I wish as seed for mutiny, to set
The court against its subjects, throng 'gainst throng.
For each among us is inclined to guard
That honor, rank, and lawful privilege
Unto him given by the Omnipotent
Ere He created man, an after-thought.
The celestial palace is our heritage.
To the Spirits, who above float on their wings,
Who, incorporeal, therefore, ne'er can sink,
This place is more adapt than to the race
Of Earth, too sluggish far to choose against
Their nature these clear bows. Here shines the day
Too bright, too strong. Their eyes cannot endure
That splendid light, upon whose glow we gaze.
Then let man keep in his native element,
As other creatures do. Let him suffice
The bounds of his terrestrial Paradise,
Where the rising and the setting of the sun
And moon divide the months and form the year.
Let him observe, in their wide-circling round,
The crystal spheres. Let Eden's pleasant fruits
Content him, and its flowers that breathe perfume.
To range from East to West, from North to South:
Let this his pastime be. What needs he more?
We'll ne'er bring homage to an earthly lord.
Thus I resolve. Canst thou more briefly yet
This meaning state?
 

Belial:

 
For all eternity,
Mankind to lock without the gate of Heaven.
 

Apollion:

 
That tinkles well in the Angelic ear.
That flashes like a flame from choir to choir
Through Orders nine and all the Hierarchies.
 

Belial:

 
So shall we best a pining slowness feign;
Though all our bliss and our deliverance
On speed and expedition hang.
 

Apollion:

 
Not less
On dexterous management depends, nor less
On courage and on bravery.
 

Belial:

 
That shall
Increase, as countless bannered bands accede.
 

Apollion:

 
They even now are murmuring: then we
Should act with secrecy, share in their hopes,
And nourish their complaints.
 

Belial:

 
And then it were
Most opportune that Belzebub, a chief
Of power and eminence, should tender them
His seal, to force their vested Rights and gain
Redress of grievances.
 

Apollion:

 
Not all at once,
But gradually, as if by by-paths won.
 

Belial:

 
Then let the Stadtholder himself approach,
And in support of such a proud resolve
Offer his mighty arm.
 

Apollion:

 
We soon shall hear,
When in the Council, his opinion
And his intent: then let him for a while
His thoughts dissemble and, at last, spur on
The maddened throng, embarrassed for a head.
 

Belial:

 
Upon the head depends the whole affair.
Whatever thy promises, without a chief
They'll ne'er commence so hazardous a cause.
 

Apollion:

 
What hath been wonk no need to win again!
Who most hath lost in glory and in state,
Him doth it most concern. Let him precede,
And beat the measure for a myriad feet.
 

Belial:

 
Both equity and reason would demand
He wear the crown; though, ere we deeper go,
Let us all dangers weigh and nothing do
Unless all Councillors affix their seals.
 

Chorus of Angels:

Strophe.

 
How glares the noble front of Heaven!
Why streams the holy light so red
Upon our face, overspread
With mournful mists from darkness driven?
What sad cloud hath profaned
That pure and never-stained
Clear sapphire, wondrous bright.
The fire, the flame, the light
Of the resplendent Power,
Omnipotence? Why doth that glow
Of God as black as blood thus grow
That in our aery bower
So pleased our eyes? O Angels, say
The cause of this deep gloom now dimming
Your radiance? O'er Adam's sway
On choral raptures ye were swimming,
On Spirit breath, amid a glow
That vault and choir and court below
And towers and battlements o'erflooded
With showers of gold, while joys unclouded
Smiled from the brows of all that live:
Who is it can the reason give?
 

Chorus of Angels.

Antistrophe.

 
When Gabriel's trumpet, richly sounding,
Inflamed our souls till a new song
Of praise burst forth among
Those dales, with roses fair abounding,
'Mid the celestial bowers
Of Paradise, whose flowers
Did ope, joyed by such dew
Of praise, then upwards through
The vast seemed Envy stealing.
A countless host of Spirits dumb.
And wan and pale and sad and grum,
In crowds, dire woe revealing,
Crept slowly past, with drooping eye,
And forehead smooth now frowning rimple.
The doves of Heaven here on high,
Once innocent and pure and simple,
Began to sigh, and seemed to grieve
As if e'en Heaven they did believe
Too small since Adam was created,
And man for such a crown was fated.
This stain offends the Eye of Light:
It flames the face of the Infinite.
In love we would yet mingle in their ranks:
Again to calm this restless discontent.
 

ACT III

LUCIFERIANS. CHORUS OF ANGELS.

Luciferians:

 
How oft belief proves but delusive hope!
Alas! how things have changed. We deemed no rank
Than ours more happy in this rising Realm,—
Yea, thought our state even like unto God's own,
More blessed than Earth and e'er unchangeable.—
Till Gabriel met us with his trumpet bold,
And from the golden port the hosts astounded
With this new-made decree, that shall deprive
The Angels of the good, the highest good,
First from the Godhead's breast to them outpoured.
How is our glory dimmed! We now behold
The beauty and the dazzling radiance
That streamed so proudly from our ancient splendor
In darkness quenched. We see the Hierarchies
Of Heaven thrown into confusion strange,
And man to such a rank, to such proud height
Exalted, that we tremble even as slaves
Beneath his sway. O unexpected blow
And change of lot! Ah! comrades in one grief.
Ah! come and gather round in groups and sigh
And weep with us together here. Tis time
To rend this shining raiment, meet for feasts,
To voice our plaints; for none can this forbid.
Our gladness fades and our first sorrow dawns.
Alas! alas! ye choristers of Heaven,
O brothers, tear those garlands from your brows
And change the blithesome livery of joy
For sorrow's gruesome garb. Oh! droop your eyes.
Seek shadows even as we; for sorrow shuns
The light. Let each one raise his voice to ours
And utter fearful plaints. Drown in your grief;
Sink down in mournful thought. To voice your woe,
The burdened heart relieves. Now joy to groan:
For groaning heals the smart. Now shout aloud,
As with one voice, and follow these our woes:
Alas! alas! where is our bliss departed?
 

Chorus of Angels.

 
What plaint arises here, unpleasant sound?
The Heavens shrink back in fright. This air on high
Hath not been wont to hear the wail of woe
On sad notes sobbing through these joyful vaults.
Nay, wreaths and palms and loud triumphal song
And tuneful harps are far more meet for us.
What can this be? Who crouches here with head
Down-hanging, sad, forlorn, and needlessly
Oppressed? Who gave them food for grief? Who can
The reason guess? O fellow choristers,
Come then, 'tis needful that we ask the cause
Of their lament and this dark cloud of woe,
That robs our splendor of its radiance
And dims and dulls the bright translucent glow
Of the eternal feast. Heaven is a court
Where joy and peace and all delights abound.
Grief never nestled 'neath these lucid eaves,
Nor woeful pain. Ah! fellow choristers.
Oh! come, console them in their heaviness.
 

Luciferian:

 
Alas! alas! where is our bliss departed?
 

Chorus:

 
Companions dear in our high happiness.
Oh! brothers, why? Oh! sons of the glad Light,
Why thus depressed at heart? Who gave you cause
Thus to complain and thus to mourn? Ye had
Begun to lift your heads aloft to Heaven,
To bloom amid the day, whose lustre streams
From God's deep glow. The Heavens brought you forth
To mount in rapid flight from firmament
To firmament beyond, from court to court;
To flit amid the shadeless light content,
In one delightful life, an endless feast;
And e'er to taste the heavenly manna sweet
Of God's eternity, among your friends
In peaceful joys. Oh! why? This is not meet
For dwellers of the Spirit world. Oh! nay.
Nor meet for Dominations, Powers, and Thrones,
Nor for the ruling Heavens. Ye gorge your grief,
And sit perplexed and dumb. Give voice to your
Necessity: reveal it to your friends.
Reveal your heart-sore, that we may relieve.
 

 
"Alas! alas! where is our bliss departed?"
 

Luciferians:

 
O brothers, can ye ask with earnestness
Why we thus grieve? Did ye also not hear
What Gabriel's trump revealed: how we through this
New-given command, down from our state are thrust
Into a slavery of Earth and of
As many souls as from a little blood
And seed may haply spring? What have we done
Amiss? how erred, that God a water-bubble,
Blown full of vapid air, exalts. His sons,
The Angels, to abase?—a bastardy
Exalts, formed out of clay and dust? But now
We stood as trusty pillars, consecrate
Unto His court, adorned our various place
As faithful members of His Realm; and now,
In one brief hour, we are expelled and shorn
Of all our dignity,—oppressed, alas!
Too sternly and with too much heaviness.
The charter and the primal privilege
Received from God are now by Him repealed.
And there where we had thought to rule with God
And under God, shall now this Adam reign,
Triumphant in his seed and blood forever.
The sun of Spirits hath set for them too soon.
Ah I comrades, hear our sorrow and our woes.
Alas! alas! where is our bliss departed?
 

Chorus:

 
And doth the charge that Gabriel brought from God
You thus disturb? This but a frenzy seems.
Who dares to reprehend the high command?
Who so presumptuous himself against
The Godhead to oppose? To give to God
His honor and His Right, to rest upon
His law, this is our bounden charge. Who dares
To enter here with God's Omnipotence
In such dispute? His word and nod and will
Serve as our law and pace and precept firm.
Who contradiction breathes doth break the seal
Of the Most High. Obedience doth please
The Ruler of this Realm far more than smell
Of incense or divinest harmonies.
Ye are (oh! be ye not so vain, we pray,
Of boasted lineage) created more
For such subjection than for rulership.
O brothers, cease this wailing and lament.
And bow beneath the yoke of the Power Supreme.
 

Luciferians:

 
Say rather 'neath the yoke of swarming ants.
 

Chorus:

 
Whene'er it pleases Him, ye should submit.
 

Luciferians:

 
What have we done amiss? The reasons tell.
 

Chorus:

 
Amiss? Impatience doth God's crown offend.
 

Luciferians:

 
Through sorrow we complain, through discontent.
 

Chorus:

 
Ye should instead your will resign to God.
 

Luciferians:

 
We rest upon the Rights given us by law.
 

Chorus:

 
Subject to God your Rights and law remain.
 

Luciferians:

 
How can the greater to the lesser yield?
 

Chorus:

 
Who is resigned—to serve God is to rule.
 

Luciferians:

 
Most freely, let but man rule there below.
 

Chorus:

 
Though small his lot, man lives in sweet content.
 

Luciferians:

 
But man is destined for a higher lot.
 

Chorus:

 
Ages shall come and go ere this shall be.
 

Luciferians:

 
An age below is but an instant here.
 

Chorus:

 
Thus be it, if it be command supreme.
 

Luciferians:

 
Far better were this mystery ne'er disclosed.
 

Chorus:

 
God in His kindness thus reveals His heart.
 

Luciferians:

 
Yet kinder towards mankind, now placed above.
 

Chorus:

 
Allied with God's own nature, wonderful!
 

Luciferians:

 
O Angels, would that God did pair with you!
 

Chorus:

 
What pleases God is ever rightly praised.
 

Luciferians:

 
How could He thus exalt mankind so high?
 

Chorus:

 
Whatever God does, or yet may do, is well.
 

Luciferians:

 
How man shall dim the crown the Angels wear!
 

Chorus:

 
All Angels shall the God incarnate praise.
 

Luciferians:

 
And worship clay and dust down in the dust?
 

Chorus:

 
And praise God's name with odors and with song.
 

Luciferians:

 
And praise mankind, constrained by higher Powers?
 

APOLLION. BELIAL. CHORUS.

Apollion:

 
What murmur this? Dost hear a strife of tongues?
 

Belial:

 
What throngs lament here, plunged in sable hue.
With veils girt round the breast and loins? None would
Believe that one among the Spirits, amid
The joys unending and the feast eterne,
Could mourn, did we not see this wretched throng
Cast down in woeful grief. What great misfortune,
What dire disaster them disturbs? Oh! how?
O brothers, what doth cause this sad lament?
Who hath offended you? Your Rights we'll guard.
O brothers, speak. Why miserable? the cause?
 

Chorus:

 
They make complaint of man's approaching state
And triumph, as proclaimed by Gabriel's trumpet;
That he outranks the Angels and that God
Shall join His Being to Adam's—all the Spirits
Thus made subordinate unto man's sway.
This briefly, clearly, states their sorrow's cause.
 

Apollion:

 
'Tis hard such inequality to bear.
 

Belial:

 
It almost goes beyond our utmost strength.
 

Chorus:

 
We pray your aid this difference to compose.
 

Apollion:

 
What remedy? How can we them appease?
They rest secure upon their lawful Rights.
 

Chorus:

 
What Rights? The same power that ordaineth laws
Hath might to abrogate those laws as well.
 

Apollion:

 
How thus can Justice unjust verdicts speak?
 

Chorus:

 
Correct God's verdicts, thou! Write thou His laws!
 

Belial:

 
The child doth follow in his father's steps.
 

Chorus:

 
To walk where He hath trod is Him to heed.
 

Apollion:

 
The change in God's own will doth cause this strife.
 

Chorus:

 
While one He setteth on a throne. He casts
Another down: the one least worthy must
Unto the son more favored then submit.
 

Belial:

 
Equality of grace would best become
The Godhead. Now the darkness dares to dim
The light celestial, while the sons of night
Defy the day itself.
 

Chorus:

 
Whatever doth breathe
May rightly the Creator praises bring,
Who each his being gave and unto each
Gave his degree. Whene'er it pleaseth Him,
The element of earth shall change to air,
To water, or to fire; the Heaven itself,
To Earth; an Angel, to a beast; mankind,
To Angels or to something new and strange.
One Power rules over all, and thus can make
The proudest tower become the humblest base.
The least received is in pure money given.
Here is no choice. Here wit and knowledge fail.
In such unlikeness doth God's glory lie.
So see we with things lightest weighed those things
Of greatest weight, which thus e'en heavier grow:
Thus beauty fairer glows o'er beauty glossed,
Hue cast o'er hue, the diamond splendor over
The blue turquoise; so see 'gainst odors odors,
The light intense against the glimmer dim,
The galaxies unto the stars opposed.
Our place within the universal plan
Thus to disturb, into confusion all
Things throwing that once God did there dispose
And place; and all the creature may arrange:
This is mis-shapen to the inmost joint.
Cease, then, this murmuring. The Godhead can
The state of Angels miss; nor aided is
By others' service; for the glorious Realm
Eterne nor music needs, nor incense, nor
These odors swung, nor harmonies of praise.
Ungrateful Spirits, be still: your base tongues curb.
Ye know not God's design. Be ye content
With your established lot, and unto God
And Gabriel's decree yourselves submit.
 

Apollion:

 
Is then the high state of the ruling Spirits
So changeable? They stand on slippery ground,
How pitiable their lot! how miserable!
 

Chorus:

 
Because a lesser in this Realm shall reign?
We shall remain as now: how are we wronged?
 

Belial:

 
They are the nighest God, their refuge sure
And Father: they upon His breast have lain:
Now lies a lesser one more close than they.
 

Chorus:

 
For one to grieve o'er others' bliss shows lack
Of love, and scents of envy and of pride.
Let not this stain upon the purity
And brightness of the Angels thus remain.
To strive in concord, love, and faithfulness.
The one against the other here, doth please
The Father, who all things in ranks ordained.
 

Belial:

 
So they maintain the rank the Heavens them gave;
But hardly can endure man's slave to be.
 

Chorus:

 
That's disobedience, and from their rank
They thus shall fall away. Thou seest how, too,
The hosts of Heaven, in golden armor clad
And in appointed ranks arrayed, keep watch,
Each in his turn; how this star sets and that
Ascends; and how not one of all on high
The lustre dulls of others there more clear,
Nor yet of those more dim; how some stars, too,
A greater, others lesser orbits trace:
Those nearest to Heaven most swift and those beyond
More slowly turn: yet midst this all, among
These inequalities of light, degree,
And rank, of orbit, kind, and pace, thou seest
No discord, envy, strife. The Voice of Him
Who ruleth all this measured cadence leads,
That listens and Him faithfully obeys.
 

Belial:

 
The firmament remains, as God decreed.
Had it not pleased Him thus to disarrange
The state of Angels, they would not, as now,
Awake the stars from their harmonious peace,
Nor thus disturb with plaints these quiet courts,
 

Chorus:

 
Beware lest thou this discontent shouldst flame.
 

Apollion:

 
We would this low'ring cloud might leave our sky
Before it bursts and sets the vast expanse
Of Heaven in flames. They grow in numbers.
Who
Shall them appease? Who cometh hitherward?
 

LUCIFERIANS. BELZEBUB. CHORUS.

Luciferians:

 
Alas! alas! where is our bliss departed?
 

Belzebub:

 
All goeth well: we gain increase. In grief
The Angels now assemble, and in woe
Their heads they droop together. What doth move
You. Angel hosts, with sighs and groans to mourn?
Can, then, the bloom of happiness thus fade?
In peace all to possess that Spirit can wish
From God, the Giver—doth even this content
You not? Ye therefore stand in your own light.
And cherish mournfulness, whose cause I can
Nor fathom nor discern. Come, cease your groans,
Nor longer tear your standards and your robes
Without a cause; but clear your clouded face
And darkened forehead with new radiance,
O children of the Light! The voices shrill.
Whose deep-resounding songs the Godhead praise,
Grow faint, displeased that ye should mingle with
Their godlike melody such spurious sounds
And bastard tones. Your bitter moan doth mar
The rhythm of the celestial palace till
These vaults re-echo with your woe. The wail
Of sorrow through the highest arches rolls.
From sphere to sphere: nor without crime can ye
By such sad discord thus the growth disturb
Of God's great name and glorious majesty.
 

Luciferians:

 
Chief Lord, whose potent word unnumbered bands
Would call to arms, thou comest most opportune
To soothe our misery and to prevent
By thy great power this threatened injury
And undeserved disgrace. Shall Gabriel
The sacred crown of the holy Angels place
On Adam's head: through Adam's son and heir
Crush God's first-born? 'Twere better far had we
Not been made ere the splendor-dazzling sun
His chariot mounted and in Heaven shone.
The Godhead chose in vain the Spirits as guards
Of these immobile courts, if thus He shall.
Against their vested Rights, Himself oppose;
Who guiltless to resistance are provoked
By dire impatience and necessity.
We were rejoicing here, enraptured with
The praise to God outpoured, were bowing low
In deep humility, and worshipping
'Mid burning censers with devotion flamed:—
All-quivering with the rippling notes, the Heavens,
From choir to choir, unto the sound gave ear—
Yea, melted slowly in delicious joy,
With song and harp enchanted—when the trump
Of Gabriel 'mid the rising harmony
Blew that decree, and midst the glory fell
This sudden thunderbolt of night. There lay
We all amazed, dispersed, with gloom depressed.
The gladness died away. Hushed were the throats
Pregnant with praise. The youngest son was given
The crown, the sceptre, and the blessing, while
The eldest-born, thus disinherited,
By Majesty Supreme, marked as a slave
Remains. That is the part obedience,
Devotion, love, and faithfulness receive
From God's rich treasury, that mourning brings;
That wrath enkindles, and thoughts of revenge,
Grown out of righteous hate, to smother in
His blood this upstart man, ere he shall crush
The Angels in their state; and they be forced,
As base and craven slaves, with fetters bound,
To run before his lash and at his will,
Even as he keeps the beasts beneath in awe.
Chief Lord, thou canst prevent our fall, and by
Our charter yet preserve our Rights: protect
Us by thy power. We are prepared even now
To follow 'neath thy standard and command,
To be thy troops. Lead on. 'Tis glorious
To battle for one's honor, crown, and Right.
 

Belzebub:

 
Methinks that thou art wrong. O King of Lords,
'Twere better to avert this. Give no cause
For mutiny or discord: give no cause
Whereby Rebellion grows. What remedy?
How reconcile you with the Majesty
Supreme?
 

Luciferians:

 
He doth transgress the holy Right
Once to the Angels given.
 

Belzebub:

 
The lawful Rights
Of subjects to transgress can them inflame,
And fires enkindle that the very air
Would soon consume. How poor a recompense
For stainless faith! How shall we best conduct
Ourselves amid this mournful hopelessness?
 

Luciferians:

 
'Twill comfort us one bold attempt to make.
 

Belzebub:

 
What venture this? Adopt a softer pace.
 

Luciferians:

 
This violence needs, compulsion, and revenge.
 

Belzebub:

 
We might, mayhap, a safer method choose.
 

Luciferians:

 
Delay would bring us here not gain, but loss.
 

Belzebub:

 
One should his wrong with reason understand.
 

Luciferians:

 
Reason doth publish here: we are oppressed.
 

Belzebub:

 
With prayers ye first and best might gain your end.
 

Luciferians:

 
This plot to bare would foil its execution.
 

Belzebub:

 
Scarce can such plot be hidden from the light.
 

Luciferians:

 
We're gaining fast, and stand in equipoise.
 

Belzebub:

 
Their chance is best who with God's Marshal fight.
 

Luciferians:

 
This can be righted ne'er by fright nor moan.
 

Belzebub:

 
But what say Belial and Apollion?
 

Luciferians:

 
Both are with us, and strengthen our array.
 

Belzebub:

 
How gained ye them? 'Tis far, indeed, progressed.
 

Luciferians:

 
The Heavens flow toward us now with teeming floods.
 

Belzebub:

 
Trust not in armies formed of wavering throngs.
 

Luciferians:

 
Even now advantage towers, and danger flees.
 

Belzebub:

 
Who rashly dares should not advantage claim.
 

Luciferians:

 
All on the issue hangs. Before the event
All judgment errs. The gathered hosts demand
Thee as their leader and their sovran chief
In this our expedition.
 

Belzebub:

 
But who could
Be so bereft of wit as to defend
Your righteous cause, and by such course provoke
The battled hosts of Heaven? Aye, to yourselves
Be ye more merciful. Exempt me from
This charge. I choose to hold a neutral place.
Deliberation will yet make things right.
 

Chorus:

 
O! brothers, hear. Through mediators take
Unto God's Throne your supplications sad.
More ground is won by mediation than
Rebellion's steep ascent. With coolness act:
With reason and deliberation weigh.
We will on high your Rights defend. Be calm
Ye offend the crown of God, the Lord of Lords.
 

Luciferians:

 
And ye, our vested Right: be ye less bold.
Lord Belzebub, advance our lawful claim.
Place all the legions now in battle line.
We'll follow thee together.
 

Belzebub:

 
Stay, O think,
Ye flaming zealots, think, I pray you, farther.
I will precede you to the palace grand,
Unto the Throne, and there our Rights obtain
Through peaceful means and mutual covenants,
Made voluntarily and uncompelled.
 

Chorus:

 
Be still! be still! thou art by Michael spied.
 

 
"Be still! Be still! thou art by Michael spied!"
 

MICHAEL. BELZEBUB. LUCIFERIANS.

Michael:

 
Where are we? What great noise arises here?
This seems a court of tumult and dispute,
Instead of peace, obedience, and faith.
Prince Belzebub, what reasons move thee thus,
Head of rebellious hordes, to aid a cause
So pregnant with such godless treachery,
Against that God the refuge of us all?
 

Belzebub:

 
Mercy, O Michael! Deem us worthy words
Explanatory, ere in zealous wrath
Thou dost thy sentence for God's honor pass.
Impute to us no guilt.
 

Michael:

 
Your innocence
Establish. I shall patiently attend.
 

Belzebub:

 
The assemblage of so many thousand troops,
Disturbed by God's command, through Gabriel's trumpet
From out the Throne of Thrones proclaimed, demands
Some mediation that shall quench this flame;
Wherefore I came to gain a better sense
Of the ground of their complaints, to quell as best
I could this mutiny. But they began
With frantic haste and raving recklessness
To force their clamorous claims upon me. I
Then made attempt their forces to disperse
(Let to my faith these faithful choristers
Their witness bear), to counsel that they pour
Their grievances before God's Throne; but 'mid
This tumult and this clamor, vain my zeal,
As if to calm a sea swollen to the skies.
Let now the Field-marshal lead on; we are
Prepared to follow, if he see a way
To smooth this difference.
 

Michael: