University of Virginia Library

SCENE— Pandemonium. A vast Hall, dimly lighted, is seen; in the distance a river of fire. A throne and seats around are vacant. A band of Spirits is heard in the air.
CHORUS OF SPIRITS.
Spirits! Angels! Cherubim!
Kings, and Stars, and Seraphim!
Armies, and battalions,—driven
Headlong from the azure Heaven,
By the keen and blasting light,
And the racking thunder-blight,
And the terror of The Ban,
Come! unto our great Divan!
[Hosts of Spirits descend and rise from different quarters. Moloch descends suddenly and takes his station. Chorus resumes.
Come! He comes; the crimson king,
On his broad wide-wandering wing;
As a comet, fierce and bright,
Rushes through a moonless night.
[Belial descends swiftly upon his throne.
He is come, the angel brother,
Fairer, and yet like the other,
As the thought is like the deed;
Swift, but with unerring speed.
[Abaddon descends.
And a third, (amongst a choir
Of thunders) the sublime Destroyer!
Who from blood did take his birth,
And built his fame upon the earth,
Higher than the victor's glory,
Death-propped and made false in story.

[Mammon descends slowly.
SPIRITS.
Who is this,—a flaming error,
Without speed or sign of terror,
Covered by his golden robe?

CHORUS.
[A host of Spirits is heard rushing forwards.
[The light increases: large flowers are seen springing up.

SPIRITS.
[The approach of Satan is seen afar off.
[He is distinguished nearer.
[Satan descends upon his throne, which expands.

GENERAL CHORUS OF SPIRITS.
Hail, all hail!—Thy brethren bowed
Welcome thee from flame and cloud;
Spirits of the wind and thunder,
(Who have lain in sullen wonder
Ever since the great Dismay,)
Stand up again in strong array;
Eagle spirits who face the Sun;
Gods, whose glittering deeds are done
On the crumbling edge of ruin,
When the muttering Storm is wooing
(With love-threats upon his lips)
Earthquake, and the coy eclipse.
Hail! Hail! Hail!—We bring
Great welcome to our exile king!

SATAN.
Spirits, for this large welcome thanks as large!
Hail all!—Since last we met I have been wandering,
Through stars and worlds, to the barred doors of Heaven;
And thence have sailed round the huge globes which lie
Lazily rolling in the twilight air,
And done ye service. On one (a belted world)
I alit, and faced great statures like ourselves;
On one a race of madmen; on another
Women to whom the planets came down at night.
All shapes I looked on; souls of every tinge,
From black ambition down to pallid hope.
Some worshipped the white moon, and some the sun,
Some stars, some darkness, and a host—themselves!
Some bowed before Abaddon's glory: some
Called on our Moloch here, and drank hot blood:
Others to princely Mammon knelt, and watched
His golden likeness; while our Belial (shaped
Like Venus or libidinous Bacchus) reigned
Omnipotent as Death. Even myself a few
Did not disdain.
Spirits! I have sown fear
Deep in bold hearts, and discord amidst calm;
Sharp hate I planted in the soil of love,
And jealousy, that bitter weed which springs
Even in the sky. Pride and revenge I gave
To worms, which else had crawled, whereat they reared
Their curling necks on mountain-tops, and threw
Scorn and rebellious thoughts tow'rd Heaven itself.

ALL.
Hail! Hail!

SATAN.
Since then I have flown across the perilous deep,
Haunted by pain: the crash of rocks uptorn
Sang by me, and the loud mad hurricanes
Roared through the ether, and hot lightnings sought me,
And bellowing in my track the Thunder ran.

MOLOCH.
Still thou art here, unhurt?

SATAN.
Still I am here,
Undaunted and untouched. Now speak, Abaddon!
What hast thou wrought on earth these hundred years?

ABADDON.
That sphere, thou know'st, was Moloch's. When he drove
His red battalions from earth's air, I chained
Outrageous Famine in her den, and fed
The blue Plague till it panted into sleep;
Then to the Earthquake gave a populous town,
And rested from my toil: yet,—to pass time,
I plucked a Seville doctor from his chair,
And, clothed in his lusty likeness, taught through Spain
Averroes and Galen. I talked boldly,
Concocted poisons, and foretold eclipse,
And wed inseparably mind to dust:
So I'd a host of sceptics. What didst thou?

[To Mammon.
MAMMON.
Hearing of a rich Cardinal about to die,
I lay me down beside the Vatican;
And, when I saw his soul escape in smoke
Over Saint Peter's, I uncased my spirit,
And stole into the scarlet churchman's heart.
His corpse was quite oppressed, so many mourned!
Sighs that would ships unanchor, groans which shook
The Palatine and its myrtles, heaved the room:
To stay which storm I rose. You should have seen
The petticoat-mourners! Two sad sons o' the Pope
Cried ‘Curse!’ and dried their grief: the rest all fled.
How well I did with all his stolen wealth,
Becomes not me to mention.

BELIAL.
I have drunk deep
Amongst the Mussulmans; have unveiled looks
In cloisters that made monks forget their beads;
Blown lax siroccos on firm honesty;
And fired with amorous dreams the virgin's sleep.

SATAN.
What says our gravest brother?

BEELZEBUB.
I sate beside
A thronèd king, and was his counsellor:
And we knit laws together, such as bind
Strong hearts unto our side, and some which chained
The panther people, as the witch-moon binds
In terror or mute dreams the raging sea.
Sometimes these links fell shattered; but we glued
The fragments with hot blood, and all grew firm.
At last, that million-headed beast, whose frown
Doth scare even thrones, the riotous rebel Mob
Rose up, and trod my master-king to dust.
I left his fragments on the city gates,
And flew to join ye.

SATAN.
The same burthen still.

MAMMON.
This picture hath two sides; and one is bright.
Wilt thou hear all?—Our gold forgets its power:
It glitters still, looks rich, and smiles; and yet,
Like a false friend, it fails.

ABADDON.
Men multiply
Like worms; but though the strong still slay the weak,
Yet 'tis not much. Some rascal qualities,
Pity, Remorse, and Fear, usurp men's souls.

MOLOCH.
Away! away!

BELIAL.
The church, which late we thought
Grew up too lofty with its load of clay
And toppled to its ruin, now revives.

SATAN.
Ah, Moloch! did I not confide to thee
That dusty planet?

MOLOCH.
I have done my best:
Nay, have done well, too. For a hundred years
The wretches have been fighting, men and boys,
Slandering, thieving, lying, cutting throats,
And drowned their passions in a crimson rain.
Fierce Ignorance in college and church has sate
Throned, and (from fear) respected. Knaves have thriven:
Fools have sprung up and prospered: Truth has perished.
A few poor gaunt-eyed scholars, lean and pale,
Have starved themselves in caves, or preached to air
'Bout matters beyond my capacity.

BELIAL.
'Tis that, good Moloch, which has wrought this ill.

SATAN.
These imps, though small, are cunning. Thy plain virtue
Is no match for their tricks. Our Belial here
Shall waste his leisure there a hundred years.
Wilt thou have comrades?

BELIAL.
One. Our friend here (Mordax)
Will give me his aid perhaps, unless he owns
Some better engagement for the time. Wilt go?

SATAN.
Speak, spirit! Wilt thou follow our great brother?
Mark! if thou dost, though here thou'rt free as wind,
Thou must obey.

MORDAX.
I will obey the prince.

SATAN.
'Tis right.— (To Belial.)
He shall have license and large gifts,
And take what shapes he likes and stretch of power.
Hast thou matured thy plan? Dost thou affect
Any particular quarter of the globe?

BELIAL.
No, so it be but warm; somewhere i' the South.

MORDAX.
If I may speak—

SATAN.
Speak out!

MORDAX.
As there are some
Who in the race of thought outstrip the rest,
And pluck the fruit alone, would't not be well
To make one great example? There is a fellow,
Who, as 'tis boasted, scares the swerving stars,
Hoodwinks the moon, and earthquake and eclipse
Commands by strength of prayer; and he can tame
The tempest, and vast seas, though raging mad.
He untwists dreams: Time he outstrips; and looks
Right through the future. Thus men boast. In fact,
He can read our black language.

SATAN.
How! Who is't?

MORDAX.
A Count of Ortiz, Fernan de Marillo.

SATAN.
He is descended from a meddling stock.
One of his fathers I struck dead with blight
At Cordova. He fain would read our acts,
And learn the qualities of death and fire.
Hie thee to Spain, then, Mordax! Fly, my brother!
There's much to do on earth if this be true.

BELIAL.
'Tis truth, indeed. I have some good friends there,
Inquisitors, and nobles, and cowled monks,
Who, with the common herd, will give us help.

SATAN.
And now, good brother! we will say farewell.
When thou art gone, we will proceed in council.

BELIAL.
Farewell! I'll bring some histories for your ear,
At our next meeting. Long farewell to all!

[Belial and Mordax ascend, and are gradually lost in the distance.
CHORUS.
[Darkness covers the assembly at the conclusion of the Chorus.