_Beelzebub._ Moloch, in that all are resolved, like thee. The means are unproposed; but 'tis not fit Our dark divan in public view should sit; Or what we plot against the Thunderer, The ignoble crowd of vulgar devils hear. _Luci._ A golden palace let be raised on high; To imitate? No, to outshine the sky! All mines are ours, and gold above the rest: Let this be done; and quick as 'twas exprest. _A Palace rises, where sit, as in council,_ LUCIFER, ASMODAY, MOLOCH, BELIAL, BEELZEBUB, _and_ SATAN. Most high and mighty lords, who better fell From heaven, to rise states-general of hell, Nor yet repent, though ruined and undone, Our upper provinces already won, Such pride there is in souls created free, Such hate of universal monarchy; Speak, for we therefore meet: If peace you chuse, your suffrages declare; Or means propound, to carry on the war. _Mol._ My sentence is for war; that open too: Unskilled in stratagems, plain force I know: Treaties are vain to losers; nor would we, Should heaven grant peace, submit to sovereignty. We can no caution give we will adore; And he above is warned to trust no more. What then remains but battle? _Satan._ I agree With this brave vote; and if in hell there be Ten more such spirits, heaven is our own again: We venture nothing, and may all obtain. Yet who can hope but well, since even success Makes foes secure, and makes our danger less? Seraph and cherub, careless of their charge, And wanton, in full ease now live at large; Unguarded leave the passes of the sky, And all dissolved in hallelujahs lie. _Mol._ Grant that our hazardous attempt prove vain; We feel the worst, secured from greater pain: Perhaps we may provoke the conquering foe To make us nothing; yet, even then, we know, That not to be, is not to be in woe. _Belial._ That knowledge which, as spirits, we obtain, Is to be valued in the midst of pain: Annihilation were to lose heaven more; We are not quite exiled where thought can soar. Then cease from arms; Tempt him not farther to pursue his blow, And be content to bear those pains we know. If what we had, we could not keep, much less Can we regain what those above possess. _Beelzebub._ Heaven sleeps not; from one wink a breach would be In the full circle of eternity. Long pains, with use of bearing, are half eased; Heaven, unprovoked, at length may be appeased. By war we cannot scape our wretched lot; And may, perhaps, not warring, be forgot.