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From the Lake._] Thine to command; our part is to obey. [_The rest of the Devils rise up, and fly to the Land._ _Lucif._ So, now we are ourselves again an host, Fit to tempt fate, once more, for what we lost; To o'erleap the etherial fence, or if so high We cannot climb, to undermine his sky, And blow him up, who justly rules us now, Because more strong: Should he be forced to bow. The right were ours again: 'Tis just to win The highest place; to attempt, and fail, is sin. _Mol._ Changed as we are, we're yet from homage free; We have, by hell, at least gained liberty: That's worth our fall; thus low though we are driven, Better to rule in hell, than serve in heaven. _Lucif._ There spoke the better half of Lucifer! _Asm._ 'Tis fit in frequent senate we confer, And then determine how to steer our course; To wage new war by fraud, or open force. The doom's now past; submission were in vain. _Mol._ And were it not, such baseness I disdain; I would not stoop, to purchase all above, And should contemn a power, whom prayer could move, As one unworthy to have conquered me. _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 ob
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