For them, now Adam's been elected,
And such a crown for man selected.
This blemish blinds the light of grace,
And dulls the flaming of God's face.

[Beelzebub, feigning submission to Deity, thus addresses the rebel angels.]

Oh, cease from wailing; rend your badges and your robes
No longer without cause, but make your faces bright,
And let your foreheads flash, O children of the light!
The shrill sweet throats, that thank the Deity with song,
Behold, and be ashamed that ye have mixed so long
Discords and bastard tones with music so divine.

[They appeal from him to Lucifer.]

Forbid it, Lucifer, nor suffer that our ranks

Be mortified so low and sink without a crime,

While man, above us raised, may flash and beam sublime
In the very core of light, from which we seraphim
Pass quivering, full of pain, and fade like shadows dim.
We swear, by force, beneath thy glorious flag combined,
To set thee on the throne for Adam late designed!
We swear, with one accord, to stay thine arm forever:
Lift high thy battle-axe! our wounded rights deliver!

[Gabriel relates to Michael the effect which the knowledge of the rebellion produced at the throne of God himself.]

I saw God's very gladness with a cloud of woe
O'ershadowed; and there burst a flame out of the gloom
That pierced the eye of light, and hung, a brand of doom,
Ready to fall in rage. I heard the mighty cause
Where Mercy pleaded long with God's all-righteous laws;
Grace, soothly wise and meek, with Justice arguing well.
I saw the cherubim, who on their faces fell,

And cried out, "Mercy, mercy! God, let Justice rest!"
But even as that shrill sound to his great footstool pressed,
And God seemed almost moved to pardon and to smile,
Up curled the odious smoke of incense harsh and vile,
Burned down below in praise of Lucifer, who rode
With censers and bassoons and many a choral ode:
The heaven withdrew its face from such impieties,
Cursed of God and spirits and all the hierarchies.

[The rebel angels form themselves into an army. They fight against Michael and his host, and are conquered. The victorious angels sing.]

Blest be the hero's hour,

Who smote the godless power,

And his might, and his light, and his standard,
Down toppling like a tower:

His crown was near God's own,

But from his lofty throne,

With his might, into night he hath vanished;
God's name must shine alone.
Outblazed the uproar fell,

When valorous Michaël

With the brand in his hand quenched the passion
Of spirits that dared rebel.

He holds God's banner now;

With laurels crown his brow!

Peace shall reign here again, and her forehead
Shall vanquished Discord bow.

Amid the conquering throng

Praises to God belong;

Honor bring to the King of all kingdoms!
He gives us stuff for song.

[After this, Gabriel enters bearing the tidings of man's fall.]

Gabriel

Michael

Alas! alas! alas! to adverse fortune bow!

What do ye here? In vain are songs of triumph now;
In vain of spoil of arms and gonfalons ye boast!

What hear I, Gabriel?

Gabriel

Oh, Adam is fallen and lost!

The father and the stock of all the human race

Most grievously hath erred, and lies in piteous case..

[Michael sends Uriel to drive the guilty pair out of Eden, and then thus pronounces the doom of the rebel angels.]

Ozias, to whose fist the very Godhead gave

The heavy hammer framed of diamond beaten out,
And chains of ruby, clamps, and teeth of metal stout,—
Go hence, and take and bind the hellish host that rage,
Lion and dragon fell, whose banners dared to wage
War with us thus. Speed swift on their accursèd flight,
And bind them neck and claw, and fetter them with might.

The key which to the gates of their foul pit was fitted
Is, Azarias, now into thy care committed;

Go hence, and thrust therein all that our power defied.
Maceda, take this torch I to your zeal confide,

And flame the sulphur-pool in the centre of the world:
There torture Lucifer, and leave his body curled

In everlasting fire, with many a prince accursed;

Where Sorrow, wretched Pain, numb Horror, Hunger, Thirst, Despair without a hope, and Conscience with her sting,

May measure out their meed of endless suffering.

Translation from the Cornhill Magazine.