Vondel's Lucifer

Now will the burning strike him from on high?

Uriel:

He waves his battle-axe aloft to fellGod's banner, that, descending, darts the beamsAnd fairer radiance of God's name intoHis glowing face. Oh! think what envy thenHim filled, to see this portent on our side.With battle-axe in hand, now here, now there,He parries every stroke, or breaks their forceUpon his shield, till Michael comes beforeHim, clad in glittering armor, like a GodAmid a ring of suns: "Cease, Lucifer;Give God the victory. Lay down your armsAnd standard; yield to God. Come, lead awayThis wicked crew, this impious horde. Or else,Beware thy head!" Thus shouts he from on high.The Grand Foe of God's name, stiff-necked, unmoved,And more defiant at these words, renewsThe fight with haste precipitate, and thriceWith war-axe strives to cleave the diamond shieldWhere glowed God's holy name. But who provokesThe Deity shall feel His wrath. The axeThe holy diamond strikes, but lo! rebounds,And shivers into fragments. Then aloftHis right hand Michael lifts, and through the helmAnd head of that rebellious one he smites,Helped by the great Omnipotent, his lightnings,Cleaving unto his eyes with violenceSo great that he falls backward, and is hurledDown from his chariot, that forthwith followsHim, whirling round and round in its descent;Thus lion, dragon, driver, all plunge down.The standard of the Star doth cease to shine,When feels Apollion my flaming sword.Whereon his banner, straightway, he doth leaveAs plunder in my hands; while in fierce swarmsTumultuous their warring myriadsAttempt, in vain, to stay the falling ChiefOf all the hosts infernal, and to saveHim from this fate and great calamity.Here fights Prince Belzebub, and there opposedStands Belial. Thus their squadrons are confused:And with the Stadtholder's important fallThe crescent's bow soon into shivers breaks.Then comes Apollion into the field,With all the monsters from the firmament.The giant Orion shrieks, until the soundThe very air makes faint; then with his clubHe strives to crush the head of our assault,That, heedless of Orion or his club,Moves grandly on. The Northern Bears rear backUpon their haunches, that their brutish strengthMay blindly us oppose. The Hydra gapesWith fifty throats, that vomit poison forth.I view a gallery of battle-scenes,All happening in the fray, as far as eyeCan see.

"Thus lion, dragon, driver, all plunge down."

Rafael:

Praise be to God! Upon your kneesFall down and worship Him! O Lucifer,Ah! where now is that fickle confidence?In what strange shape shall I, alas! beholdThee soon? Where now are thy proud splendors, thatAll other pomp so easily outshone?

Uriel:

Even as bright day to gloomy night is changed,Whene'er the sun forgets his golden glow,So in his downward fall his beauty turnedTo something monstrous and most horrible:Into a brutish snout his face, that shoneSo glorious; his teeth into large fangs,Sharpened for gnawing steel; his hands and feetInto four various claws; into a hideOf black that shining skin of pearl; while fromHis bristled back two dragon wings did sprout.Alas! the proud Archangel, whom but nowAll Angels honored here, hath changed his shapeinto a hideous medley of seven beasts,As outwardly appears: A lion proud;A greedy, gluttonous swine; a slothful ass;A fierce rhinoceros, with rage inflamed;An ape, in every part obscene and vile,By nature lewd and most lascivious;A dragon, full of envy; and a wolfOf sordid avarice. His beauteous formIs now a monster execrable, by GodAnd Spirit and man e'er to be cursed. That beastDoth shrink to view its own deformity,And veils with darkling mists its Gorgon face.

Rafael:

Thus shall Ambition learn how vain to tiltFor God's own crown. Where stayed Apollion?

Uriel:

He saw his tide ebb when his star declined,And fled: so fled they all. Then, from above,The celestial ordnance pours forth shot on shot,With lightning flash and rolling thunders loud,Causing the monsters that into the lightHave crawled to swell the rout; and pleased are all.With God's array, to aid in such pursuit!O! what a whirl of storms in one resolved!And what a noisy tumult rises round!What floods sweep by! Our legions, blessed by God,Advance, and strike and crush whatever they meet.What cries of pain now burst forth everywhere,As from the fleeing hordes one hears, amidThis wild confusion and this change of formIn limbs and shapes, their roars and bellowings.Some yell, and others howl. What fearful frownsThose Angel faces wear, the mirrors dreadOf Hell's infernal horrors. Hark! I hearMichael return, triumphant, to display,Here in the light, the spoil from Angels reft.The choristers now greet him with their songsOf praise, with sound of cymbal, pipe, and drum.They come in front, and strew their laurel leaves'Mid those celestial harmonies around.

CHORUS OF ANGELS. MICHAEL.

Chorus:

Hail! to the hero, hail!Who the wicked did assail;And in the fight, o'er his might and his standard.Triumphant did prevail.Who strove for God's own crown,From his high and splendid throne,Into night, with his might, hath been driven.How dazzling God's renown!Though flames the tumult fell,The valiant MichaelWith his hand the fierce brand can extinguish:All mutiny shall quell.God's banner he doth rear:Come, wreathe his brow austere.Now, in peace, shall increase Heaven's Palace:No discord now we hear.Then to the Godhead raise.In His deathless courts, your praise.Glory bring to the King of all Kingdoms:His deeds inspire our lays.

Michael:

Praise be to God! The state of things aboveHas changed. Our Grand Foe has met his defeat;And in our hands he leaves his standard, helm,And morning-star, and shield and banners bold.Which spoil, gained in pursuit, even now doth hang,'Mid joys triumphant, honors, songs of praise,And sounds of trump, on Heaven's axis bright,The mirror clear of all rebelliousness,Of all ambition that would rear its crest'Gainst God, the stem immovable—grand fount,Prime source, and Father of all things that are,Which from His hand their nature did receive,And various attributes. No more shall weBehold the glow of Majesty SupremeDimmed by the damp of base ingratitude.There, deep beneath our sight and these high thrones,They wander through the air and restlesslyMove to and fro, all blind and overcastWith shrouding clouds, and horribly deformed.Thus is his fate, who would assail God's Throne.

Chorus:

Thus is his fate, who would assail God's Throne.Thus is his fate, who would, through envy, man,In God's own image made, deprive of light.

GABRIEL. MICHAEL. CHORUS.

Gabriel:

Alas! alas! alas! how things have changed!Why triumph here? Our triumph is in vain:Ah! vain display, these plundered flags and arms!

Michael:

What hear I, Gabriel?

Gabriel:

Oh! Adam's fallen:The father and the stem of all mankind,Most pitiful and sad! brought to his fallSo soon. He is undone.

Michael:

That bursts even likeA sudden thunder-peal upon our ears.Although I shudder, yet I long to hearThis overthrow described. Doth then the ChiefAccursed, also on Earth his warfare wage?

Gabriel:

The battle o'er, he called his scattered hostUnto his side, though first his chieftains bold,Who to each other turned abhorring gaze;And then, to shun the swift, all-searching raysOf the all-seeing Eye, he veiled them roundWith gloomy mists, that formed a hollow cloud,A dark, obscure, and gruesome lair of fog,Where shone no light, where gleamed no glow of fireSave what did shine from their own blazing eyes.And in that dim, infernal consistory,High-seated 'mid his Councillors of State,With bitter rage 'gainst God he thus began:"Ye Powers, who for our righteous cause have borne,With such fierce pride, this injury, 'tis timeTo be revengèd for our wrongs: with hateIrreconcilable and furious craftThe Heavens to persecute and circumventIn their own chosen image, man, and himTo smother at his birth, in his ascent,Ere that his sinews gain their promised strengthAnd ere he multiply. 'Tis my design,Both Adam and his seed now to corrupt.I know how, through transgression of the lawHim first enjoined, to stain him with a blotIndelible; so that he with his seed,In soul and body poisoned, never shallUsurp the throne from which ourselves were thrust:Though it may be that some shall yet ascendOn high, a number small and slight; and theseAlone through thousand deaths and sufferingAnd labor shall attain the state and crownTo us denied. Lo! miseries forthwithShall follow aft in Adam's wake, and spread,From age to age, throughout the whole wide world.Even Nature shall, attainted by this blow,Almost decay, and wish again to turnTo chaos and its primal nothingness.I see mankind, in God's own image made,From God's similitude debased, estranged,And tarnished, even in will and memoryAnd understanding, while the holy lightWithin created is obscured and dimmed:Yea, all yet in their mother's anxious womb,That wait with sorrow for their natal hour,I now, forsooth, behold a helpless preyTo Death's relentless jaws. I shall exaltMy tyranny with e'er-increasing pride,While you, my sons, I then shall see adoredAs Deities, on altars and in fanesInnumerable that tower to Heaven, where burnsThe sacrificial victim, 'mid the smokeOf censers and the dazzling sheen of gold,In praise most reverential. I see hostsOf men, whose multitudes are even beyondThe power of tongue to name—yea, all that springFrom Adam's loins—for all eternityAccursed by their deeds abominable,Done in defiance of God's name. So dearTo Him the cost of triumph o'er my crown."

Michael:

Accursèd one, even yet to be so boldIn thy defiance 'gainst thy God! Ere longThou shalt from us this blasphemy unlearn.

Gabriel:

Even thus spake Lucifer, and then he sentPrince Belial down, that he forthwith might causeMankind to fall: who took upon himselfThe form of that most cunning of all beasts,The Serpent, type of wickedness itself,That he might with a gloss of words adornHis luring snares, which then those creatures pureIn guileless innocence even thus received,As, swinging from the tempting bough of knowledge,That lone forbidden tree, he hung aloft:"Hath God, upon the pain of death, with suchSeverity and at so high a price,Deprived you of the freedom of this fruit?—The taste of even the choicest tree of all?Nay, Eve, thou simple dove, indeed thou dostMistake. But once behold this apple, pray!Aye! see how glows this radiant fruit with goldAnd crimson mingled! An alluring feast!Yea, daughter, nearer draw; no venom lurks upIn this immortal leaf. How tempts this fruit!Yea, pluck; yea, freely pluck: I promise theeAll light and knowledge. Come, why shouldst thou shrinkFor fear of sin? Aye, taste, and thus becomeEqual to God Himself in cognizance,Honor and wisdom, truth and majesty:Even though He much may wish thee to deny.Thus must distinctions be discerned in things.Their nature, entities, and qualities."Forthwith begins the heart of the fair brideTo burn and to enkindle, till she flamesTo see the praised fruit, which first alluresThe eye: the eye the mouth, that sighs to taste.Desire doth urge the hand, all quivering,To pluck. And thus she plucks, and tastes and eats(Oh! how this shall afflict her progeny!)With Adam, and as soon as then their eyesAre opened and they see their nakedness,They deck themselves with leaves—with leaves of fig,Their shame, disgrace, and taint original—And in the trees and shadows hide themselves;But hide in vain from the all-piercing Eye.Then gradually the sky grows black. They seeThe rainbow, as a warning messengerAnd portent of God's plagues, stretched o'er the Heavens,That weep, in mourning clad. Nor wringing hands,Nor sad lament, nor cries avail the pair.Alas! the lightnings gleam, with flash on flash,And shaking thunders roll there, peal on peal.And naught is heard but sighs, and naught is seenBut fright and gloom. They even their shadows flee;But ne'er can 'scape that dread heart-cankering worm,The sting of conscience. Thus, with knees that knockTogether, step by step they stumble on,Their faces ghastly pale, and eyes, o'er-brimmedWith tears, blind to the light. How spiritless,They who but now their heads so proudly held!The sound of rustling leaf or whispering brook,The faintest noise, doth them confound; the whileA pregnant cloud descends, that bursts and bears,By slow degrees, a light and radiant glow,Wherein the great Supreme appears in shapeImpressive, thundering with His Voice, that fellsThem to the earth.

"Nor wringing hands,Nor sad lament, nor cries avail the pair."

Chorus:

Oh! oh! 'twere better far,Had mankind ne'er been made. This teaches themBy such a juicy fruit to be beguiled.

Gabriel:

"O Adam," thunders God, "where art thou hid?""Forgive me. Lord; I flee thy countenance,Naked and all ashamed." "Who taught thee thus,"Asks God, "thy shame and nakedness to know?Didst dare profane thy lips with the forbiddenFruit?" "Aye, my bride, my wife, alas! did tempt."She says, "The wily Serpent hath deceivedMe with this lure." Thus each the charge deniesOf being the cause of their sad wretchedness.

Chorus:

Mercy! What penalty hangs o'er their crime?

Gabriel:

The woman, who hath Adam thus seduced,God threatens with the pains of tears and travail,And her subjection, and the man with careAnd labor, sweat and arduous slavery;The soil, where man, at last, shall find his grave,With noxious weeds and great calamities;The Serpent, for the sly misuse thus madeOf his most subtle tongue, shall, o'er the ground,Upon his belly creep, and live aloneOn dust and earth. But as a comfort sure,In such a misery, to poor mankindGod promises, in truth, out of the seedAnd blood of the first woman, to raise upThe Strong One, who shall crush the Serpent's head,This Dragon vile, through deadly hate, by timeNor yet eternity to be removed.And though this raging monster make attemptTo bite His heel, yet shall the Hero win;And from the strife shall come with honors crowned.I come, in the name of Him, the Highest One,To thee this sad disaster to reveal.Forthwith all things in wonted order place,Ere they, for us, shall further mischief brew.

Michael:

Come, Uriel, armor-bearer, who dost guardThe Right divine and punishest the Wrong:Take up thy flaming sword: fly down below,And drive the twain from Eden, who have daredTransgress, so rash and blind, the primal law.Go, guard the gate of the Paradise profaned,And forcibly the exiles drive awayFrom this rare food, this tree, prolonging life.Permit not that they pluck the immortal fruit,Nor their abuse of heavenly gifts allow.Thou art placed, as sentinel, the garden over,And o'er this tree. Then see that Adam shallBe driven out, and that from morn to eveHe plough the field, and till the clayey groundFrom which, the breath of God once fashioned him,Ozias, to whose hand once God HimselfWith honor did entrust the ponderous hammerOf bright-hewn diamond made, also the chainsOf ruby and the clamps so sharp of teeth,Go hence, and capture and securely bindThe host of the infernal animals,Also the lion and the dragon fell,That furiously against our standards rage.Sweep from the sky these hordes accursed, and bindThem neck and claw, and chain them forcibly.This key of the black bottomless abyssAnd all its dungeons is unto your care,Azarias, enjoined. Go hence, and lockAll that our power assail within those vaults.Maceda, take this torch, to you this flameIs given: go light the deep lake sulphurous.Down in the centre of the Earth, and thereTorment thou Lucifer, who hath brought forthSuch numerous horrors, in the eternal fireUnquenchable, with chilling frosts commingled:There Grief and Horror and Obduracy,And Hunger, Thirst, and comfortless Despair,The sting of Conscience, Wrath implacable,The punishments given for this mad attempt,Amid the smoke from God's deep glow concealed,Bear witness to the blasting curse of Heaven,Passed on this Spirit impious, the whileShall come the promised Seed, the Reconciler,Who shall appease the blazing wrath of God,And in His wondrous love to man restoreAll that by Adam's trespass has been lost.

—"The eternal fireUnquenchable, with chilling frosts commingled."

Chorus:

Deliverer, who thus the Serpent's headShalt bruise, and who, at the appointed time,Shalt fallen mankind cleanse from the foul taintOriginal, from Adam's loins derived;And who again, for frail Eve's offspring, shaltOpe here, on high, a fairer Paradise,"We shall with longing tell the centuriesTill the year, day, and hour when shall appearThy promised Mercy, which its pristine bloomTo pining Nature shall restore, and placeUpon the throne whereout the Angels fellThe souls and bodies Thou hast glorified.The End

The Critical Cult

"I consider your version of the Lucifer the most notable literary achievement in American letters in the decade from 1890 to 1900."—Richard Watson Gilder.

"It takes a master to translate a master, and the Lucifer of Leonard Van Noppen is a re-creation of the original work; masterful, comprehensive and in every sense a finished production. Full of poetic fire and the magic of the fitting word, it has the imprint of creative genius in every line and is weighted with the personality of a powerful and vivid imagination."—Francis Grierson.

"Leonard Charles Van Noppen, the translator of Vondel's Lucifer, is a poet of extraordinary power and beauty."—Edwin Markham.

Comparing the author with George Sterling, says Mr. Markham, in his "California, the Wonderful." "In recent poetry only Mr. Leonard Van Noppen's verse is kindred in lavish word-work and ornate architecture to 'The Wine of Wizardry.' Both men create their poesies with large movement and breadth of treatment—with amplitude of sky and prodigiousness of field, with wash of sunset and rainbow, with march of stars."

"I feel glad that any sparks of mine have served to enkindle the cassia, nard and frankincense which so prodigally enrich your own altar. Continue, now, to feed their flames with all those resources which the translator of Vondel showed me so plainly that he possessed. Take up your own creative work while in your prime, and in the end you will gain more nobly won, though none more royally couched, tributes of speech than those you offer me."—Edmund C. Stedman.

"I congratulate you upon your success in the accomplishment of this very interesting piece of work and hope that it will meet with that recognition among scholars which it deserves. I think there is a large culture for the writer."—Henry Van Dyke.

"I received with much pleasure your Vondel's Lucifer, and as I read it, I was much delighted. It is a pleasure to read the English version of this work."—Josef Israels.

"I am much indebted to you for the gift of your very handsome translation of the 'Lucifer,' and I am not a little struck by the evidence of literary ability spread over all parts of the volume. I hope your spirited and scholarly enterprise may meet to the full with the success it deserves."—Edmund Gosse.

"Worthy the genius of Vondel."—Dr. Jan Ten Brink, Professor of Literature, University of Leiden.

"A beautiful book. It is almost like discovering a new Homer."—Nathan Haskell Dole.

"A grand yet exquisite work. It is no flattery to say that the issue of this book is one of the most notable events of the age, yet is it not better than praise of one's effort to feel its significance as a centre of spreading thought and inquiry! To think that you are the first to give Vondel's Lucifer to the English reading world!"—Mary Mapes Dodge.

"I was reading your translation of Vondel last year, and I was very much struck with the resemblance to Milton in form and spirit. The conception of the mental attitude of the fallen angels is one which is certainly very interesting from a psychological as well as a literary point of view."—A. Lawrence Lowell.

"The Lucifer has greatly interested me as a revelation of one at least of the main sources from which Milton gained his ideas. Your preliminary work to me seems to be admirable, and you have certainly rendered a real service both to history and literature."—Andrew D. White.

"I wish to thank you for your translation of Vondel's Lucifer. Shall I confess it? It was long ago since I read that great poet, and your work afforded me all the pleasure of an original. As for your splendid chapter, 'Life and Times of Vondel,' and your thorough and searching Lucifer's Interpretation, they cannot fail to awaken the keenest interest in the English speaking literary world."—Baron Gevers, Minister from the Netherlands to Washington.

"Mr. Van Noppen is a man of great literary power, an authority in Dutch literature and is achieving fame as a translator of the masterpieces of the Dutch language."—Edwin A. Alderman.

"Your book duly came to hand. I was delighted to see the extraordinary attention it got in 'Literature,' and I congratulate you on the wide interest it has awakened."—W.D. Howells.

"Many thanks for your curious and interesting volume, my only chance of making acquaintance with the Batavian author."—Andrew Lang.

"I want to add my small words to the panegyric and tell you with what intense interest and pleasure I have followed your astonishing success. I say astonishing because I wonder how long it is since any one has been able to stir up such keen and general interest over a classic written long ago and in a foreign tongue? How long ago has it been since any classic was so much talked of? When, pray, has a young man made such a contribution to English letters and so interested thinking and scholarly people?"—Willa Cather.

"It has become a matter of literary tradition, in Holland and out of it, that the choral drama of 'Lucifer' is the great masterpiece of Dutch literature. * * * An era of translation was sure to set in, and it is a matter of significance that its herald has even now appeared. The translation into English of Vondel's 'Lucifer' is not only in and for itself an event of more than ordinary importance in literary history, but it cannot fail to waken among us a curiosity as to what else of supreme value may be contained in Dutch literature."—William H. Carpenter, Professor of Germanic Philology, Columbia University.

"We heartily rejoice that Vondel's drama has been translated into English by an American for Americans. Were this translation an inferior one, or were it only mediocre, we should have no reason to be glad, but in this case it is otherwise. Although no translation can entirely compensate for the lack of the original it is, however, possible for the original to be followed very closely. This is well shown by this rendering, which to a high degree possesses the merit of accuracy, while, at the same time, the spirit and the character of Vondel's tragedy are felt, understood and interpreted in a remarkable manner. Whoever is in a position, by the comparison of the translation with the original, to form an individual opinion of Van Noppen's superb work, will probably be convinced, even as I have been, that here an extraordinarily difficult task has been magnificently done."—G. Kalff, Professor of Dutch Literature, University of Utrecht.

"This version of Vondel bridges the gap in the Miltonic Criticism."—Francis B. Gummere.

"Much Esteemed Sir and Friend:

The distinguished octogenarian poet and author, Nicolaas Beets, of Utrecht, Holland, wrote to Mr. Van Noppen as follows:

'Much Esteemed Sir and Friend:

* * * I have furthermore compared your translation in many a striking passage with the original, which I always held in my hand. * * * Whatever was attainable you not only tried to reach most earnestly, but you have even most excellently succeeded in attaining. You have absolutely understood and perfectly rendered the meaning, the action, the spirit and the power of the sublime original. In splendid English verse we read Vondel's soul. Whoever knows Vondel will admit this, and whoever does not at present know him will learn to know and appreciate him from your translation. * * * It is also very plain, from the essays preceding the translation, that you have made a most thorough and comprehensive study of Vondel and of his poetry in connection with the entire field of the literature and history of his time. Though having myself read, and even written, in prose as well as poetry, so much concerning Vondel, I was often so impressed by criticisms and observations in your essays that I felt impelled to revise and complete my own conceptions."