Vondel's Lucifer

He maketh threatForthwith to crush Rebellion's head and crown.

Lucifer:

Now swear I by my crown, upon this chanceTo venture all, to raise my seat amidThe firmament, the spheres, the splendor ofThe stars above. The Heaven of Heavens shall thenMy 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 dustWhate'er above, around, below, doth usOppose, were it God's Marshal grand himself.Yea, e'er we yield, these empyrean vaults.Proud in their towering masonry, shall burstWith all their airy arches and dissolveBefore 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 ofThe Gods subordinate, I offer theeMy service and await thy new commands.What now the word—what of thy subject wouldThy Majesty?

Lucifer:

It pleaseth us to hearThy sense and thy opinion of a graveAnd weighty plan that cannot fail to win.Tis our intent to pluck the proudest plumeFrom Michael's wings, that our attempt uponHis mightiness shall not rebound as vain.With his own arm as many oraclesHe founds, as ever God Himself hath hewnFrom deathless diamond with His hand. BeholdNow man exalted to the Heaven of Heavens,Through all the circles of the spheres, then seeThe Spirit world, so deep, so far below,Even 'neath his footcloth there, like feeble wormsAlready crawling in the dust. I joyTo storm this throne with violence, and thusTo hazard by one strong, opposing strokeThe 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 deemIt 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, isOur borrowed might, weighed in the scale againstThe 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 cautiouslyMount 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'ercomeAnd dare all dangers brave.

Apollion:

But not the PowerOmnipotent, nor yet His crown: approachThou not too near, or learn in sorrow thatRepentance comes too late. The lesser shouldSubmissively unto the greater yield.

Lucifer:

The great Omnipotent is far beyondOur aim. Set forces like with like together.Then learn whose sword is weightiest. I seeOur enemies in flight, the Heavens all oursBy 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 keepsA faithful, sleepless eye on all the camps;So that of all the galaxies of HeavenNot even one star, in its celestial march,Dare move itself the least, nor stir withoutIts ranks. 'Tis easy to commence; but inSuch warfare to engage exceeds our might,And drags a train of hardships in its wake."What ordnance and what martial engineryCould e'er avail his legions proud to quell?Should Heaven's castle ope its diamond port,Nor stratagem, nor ambush, nor assaultCould bring it fear.

Belzebub:

But if our bold resolveWe strengthen with the sword, I see uponOur standard, raised aloft, the morning-starDefiance flashing till all Heaven's stateAnd rulership is changed.

Apollion:

The Fieldmarshal,The valiant Michael, bears with no less fireAnd pride God's wondrous name amid the fieldOf 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 achievedWith titles, nor with pomp; not by valor, spirit.And subtle strokes in skill and cunning bred.Thou art a master-wit with craftinessThe Spirits to seduce, them to ensnare,To lead and to incite howe'er thou wilt.Thou canst attaint even those among the watchOf most integrity, and teach even thoseTo waver who had thought to waver never.Begin, we see God's legions in two campsDivided, lords and vassals roused to strifeAnd mutiny. The greatest part even nowAre 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 managementWith place and honor. Go, this plot considerWith 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 awaitsOur own attendance. We shall call you bothWithin, as soon as ye shall come. And thou,Chief Lord, guard with thy trusty followersThis mighty gate that to the palace leads.

BELIAL. APOLLION.

Belial:

God's Stadtholder doth serve himself with usOn high.

Apollion:

We fly together from his bowLike speeding arrows.

Belial:

And both aimèd areEven 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 gainThe guard.

Apollion:

The chieftains first, and with them weThe 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 chooseA chief, on whom each can reliance place.

Apollion:

Thou comprehendest well: no better causeI wish as seed for mutiny, to setThe court against its subjects, throng 'gainst throng.For each among us is inclined to guardThat honor, rank, and lawful privilegeUnto him given by the OmnipotentEre 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 raceOf Earth, too sluggish far to choose againstTheir nature these clear bows. Here shines the dayToo bright, too strong. Their eyes cannot endureThat splendid light, upon whose glow we gaze.Then let man keep in his native element,As other creatures do. Let him sufficeThe bounds of his terrestrial Paradise,Where the rising and the setting of the sunAnd moon divide the months and form the year.Let him observe, in their wide-circling round,The crystal spheres. Let Eden's pleasant fruitsContent 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 yetThis 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 choirThrough Orders nine and all the Hierarchies.

Belial:

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

Apollion:

Not lessOn dexterous management depends, nor lessOn courage and on bravery.

Belial:

That shallIncrease, as countless bannered bands accede.

Apollion:

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

Belial:

And then it wereMost opportune that Belzebub, a chiefOf power and eminence, should tender themHis seal, to force their vested Rights and gainRedress 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 resolveOffer his mighty arm.

Apollion:

We soon shall hear,When in the Council, his opinionAnd his intent: then let him for a whileHis thoughts dissemble and, at last, spur onThe maddened throng, embarrassed for a head.

Belial:

Upon the head depends the whole affair.Whatever thy promises, without a chiefThey'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 demandHe wear the crown; though, ere we deeper go,Let us all dangers weigh and nothing doUnless all Councillors affix their seals.

Chorus of Angels:

Strophe.

How glares the noble front of Heaven!Why streams the holy light so redUpon our face, overspreadWith mournful mists from darkness driven?What sad cloud hath profanedThat pure and never-stainedClear sapphire, wondrous bright.The fire, the flame, the lightOf the resplendent Power,Omnipotence? Why doth that glowOf God as black as blood thus growThat in our aery bowerSo pleased our eyes? O Angels, sayThe cause of this deep gloom now dimmingYour radiance? O'er Adam's swayOn choral raptures ye were swimming,On Spirit breath, amid a glowThat vault and choir and court belowAnd towers and battlements o'erfloodedWith showers of gold, while joys uncloudedSmiled 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 songOf praise burst forth amongThose dales, with roses fair abounding,'Mid the celestial bowersOf Paradise, whose flowersDid ope, joyed by such dewOf praise, then upwards throughThe 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 grieveAs if e'en Heaven they did believeToo 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 rankThan 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 astoundedWith this new-made decree, that shall depriveThe Angels of the good, the highest good,First from the Godhead's breast to them outpoured.How is our glory dimmed! We now beholdThe beauty and the dazzling radianceThat streamed so proudly from our ancient splendorIn darkness quenched. We see the HierarchiesOf Heaven thrown into confusion strange,And man to such a rank, to such proud heightExalted, that we tremble even as slavesBeneath his sway. O unexpected blowAnd change of lot! Ah! comrades in one grief.Ah! come and gather round in groups and sighAnd weep with us together here. Tis timeTo 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 browsAnd change the blithesome livery of joyFor sorrow's gruesome garb. Oh! droop your eyes.Seek shadows even as we; for sorrow shunsThe light. Let each one raise his voice to oursAnd 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 highHath not been wont to hear the wail of woeOn sad notes sobbing through these joyful vaults.Nay, wreaths and palms and loud triumphal songAnd tuneful harps are far more meet for us.What can this be? Who crouches here with headDown-hanging, sad, forlorn, and needlesslyOppressed? Who gave them food for grief? Who canThe reason guess? O fellow choristers,Come then, 'tis needful that we ask the causeOf their lament and this dark cloud of woe,That robs our splendor of its radianceAnd dims and dulls the bright translucent glowOf the eternal feast. Heaven is a courtWhere 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 causeThus to complain and thus to mourn? Ye hadBegun to lift your heads aloft to Heaven,To bloom amid the day, whose lustre streamsFrom God's deep glow. The Heavens brought you forthTo mount in rapid flight from firmamentTo 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 sweetOf God's eternity, among your friendsIn peaceful joys. Oh! why? This is not meetFor 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 yourNecessity: 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 earnestnessWhy we thus grieve? Did ye also not hearWhat Gabriel's trump revealed: how we through thisNew-given command, down from our state are thrustInto a slavery of Earth and ofAs many souls as from a little bloodAnd seed may haply spring? What have we doneAmiss? how erred, that God a water-bubble,Blown full of vapid air, exalts. His sons,The Angels, to abase?—a bastardyExalts, formed out of clay and dust? But nowWe stood as trusty pillars, consecrateUnto His court, adorned our various placeAs faithful members of His Realm; and now,In one brief hour, we are expelled and shornOf all our dignity,—oppressed, alas!Too sternly and with too much heaviness.The charter and the primal privilegeReceived from God are now by Him repealed.And there where we had thought to rule with GodAnd 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 GodYou thus disturb? This but a frenzy seems.Who dares to reprehend the high command?Who so presumptuous himself againstThe Godhead to oppose? To give to GodHis honor and His Right, to rest uponHis law, this is our bounden charge. Who daresTo enter here with God's OmnipotenceIn such dispute? His word and nod and willServe as our law and pace and precept firm.Who contradiction breathes doth break the sealOf the Most High. Obedience doth pleaseThe Ruler of this Realm far more than smellOf incense or divinest harmonies.Ye are (oh! be ye not so vain, we pray,Of boasted lineage) created moreFor 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 wouldBelieve that one among the Spirits, amidThe joys unending and the feast eterne,Could mourn, did we not see this wretched throngCast 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 stateAnd triumph, as proclaimed by Gabriel's trumpet;That he outranks the Angels and that GodShall join His Being to Adam's—all the SpiritsThus 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 lawsHath 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 castsAnother down: the one least worthy mustUnto the son more favored then submit.

Belial:

Equality of grace would best becomeThe Godhead. Now the darkness dares to dimThe light celestial, while the sons of nightDefy the day itself.

Chorus:

Whatever doth breatheMay rightly the Creator praises bring,Who each his being gave and unto eachGave 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 makeThe 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 thingsOf greatest weight, which thus e'en heavier grow:Thus beauty fairer glows o'er beauty glossed,Hue cast o'er hue, the diamond splendor overThe 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 planThus to disturb, into confusion allThings throwing that once God did there disposeAnd place; and all the creature may arrange:This is mis-shapen to the inmost joint.Cease, then, this murmuring. The Godhead canThe state of Angels miss; nor aided isBy others' service; for the glorious RealmEterne nor music needs, nor incense, norThese odors swung, nor harmonies of praise.Ungrateful Spirits, be still: your base tongues curb.Ye know not God's design. Be ye contentWith your established lot, and unto GodAnd Gabriel's decree yourselves submit.

Apollion:

Is then the high state of the ruling SpiritsSo 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 sureAnd 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 lackOf love, and scents of envy and of pride.Let not this stain upon the purityAnd brightness of the Angels thus remain.To strive in concord, love, and faithfulness.The one against the other here, doth pleaseThe 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 rankThey thus shall fall away. Thou seest how, too,The hosts of Heaven, in golden armor cladAnd in appointed ranks arrayed, keep watch,Each in his turn; how this star sets and thatAscends; and how not one of all on highThe 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 beyondMore slowly turn: yet midst this all, amongThese inequalities of light, degree,And rank, of orbit, kind, and pace, thou seestNo discord, envy, strife. The Voice of HimWho 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 disarrangeThe 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 skyBefore it bursts and sets the vast expanseOf Heaven in flames. They grow in numbers.WhoShall them appease? Who cometh hitherward?

LUCIFERIANS. BELZEBUB. CHORUS.