Festus · Scene 34

XXXIV

Scene⁠—Earth.
Angels* and Saints⁠—An Angel descending; Festus*.
Saint Whence art thou?
Angel I? from Heaven, and thither tend;⁠— One moment here to bid ye to prepare. Our Lord the Eternal Son comes hither, girt With His victorious hosts, to judge the world.
Saint What victory hath our Almighty gained?
Angel One final, over Death and Hell. Shout, earth! Thy freedom is accomplished, and thy foes Brought down to endless ruin.
Saint Angel, speak! We burn to learn the tidings of this war, Whereof thou tell’st, and doubtless wast a part.
Angel Hot from the fight I come. This lightning blade Hath holpen well to thin the infernal rout, Which back hath fled to hell, howling like winds. But let me, at your will, ye peaceful saints, Relate what happed to us from first to last. The time was come in Heaven when God the Son, Bowing his head before the Omnipotent, Who doubled every blessing infinite Wherewith he had enriched His Only One From first, rose from his glorious throne, and stepped Into His sun-bright car, calling aloud His angels to attend Him while He went To judge the earth, as fore-ordained of old: That Heaven and earth might view the majesty And mercy of the God of all. We came, Selectest spirits, countless⁠—crowded bright As the great stream of stars which flows through Heaven Fast by the foot of God, each wave a world⁠— Eager to the eye this act of glory long Talked of in Heaven, and now to be achieved. Forth from the starry towers, and world-wide walls, Of Heaven, we set in high and silent joy, And journeyed half our way through Heaven, when lo! A sight which checked the foremost flaming ranks, That halted frontwise, working doubt at first, But triumph after. Shielded and drawn up close, Behind a broken and decaying world, From which the light had vanished like the light Out of a death-shrunk eye, sat Lucifer⁠— Midst in the powers of darkness, and the hosts Of hell, enthroned sublime; and all were still As ambushed silence round the Foe of God. But oh! how changed from him we knew in Heaven, Whose brightness nothing made might match nor mar; Who rose, and it was morn;⁠—who stretched his wing, And stepped from star to star;⁠—so changed he showed Most like a shadowy meteor, thorough which The stars dim glint⁠—woe-wasted, pined with pain. And by his side there sat or shrank a shape We angels knew not, but the Son of God Knew him, and called him Death; whom, when he saw, Arousing, after, out of sleep intense, That unrealmed tyrant drew his mortal dart, And drave it through himself⁠—a shade, shade-quelled. Then to that chief of mischief and his fiends, Who, thick as burning stones that from the throat Of some volcano foul the benighted sky, Shot up triumphant into air as they Beheld our ranks move on, thus spake our Lord⁠— Not wrathfully, but sternly pitying: Hell’s wretched remnant! wherefore crouch ye here? Is it to sue destruction, or to bar My passage? If it be, in both ye err. And will ye trust yourselves again to war With me Almighty? Have I not overcome Ye separately, both? Speak, brutal Death! Fit follower and fellow to all woes⁠— Wherefore this instantaneous haste from hell, And both from Hadeän bondage, thus again So soon to compass mightiest wickedness, And tempt extremest wrath? Speak, head of hell! To Him thus Lucifer: Almighty Son! Thy power I defy not; but in peace I war with fate. My life is to destroy. Evil hath more activity, if good More strength: and one must wear the other out. The more august the sin, so much the more Is my necessity. Yon earth hath been The battle-plain of Heaven and hell. From Thee, Who knowest all things, it were vain to hide My purpose, which for a thousand years, the years Of bondage, hath grown in me and lived on, Toad-like within a rock⁠—vital where all Beside was death⁠—to seize the nascent souls Of men a they rerose from death to life, And sweep them off in midst of all these hosts, Assembled for that cause here as Thou seest, To hell;⁠—the universal race of man. But if ordained that not on them, but Thee And Thine, old hate shall satisfy itself, Approach no nearer; for we live by death;⁠— Or turn the tide of fate, Thou sole who canst! Ceasing thereat, his host upraised a shout Which shook the stars, and made them ring again. Our Lord to him then spake thus, mild as Spring, Addressing earth when smiling she lets fall All flowerets from her lips⁠—’Tis well there is a God! Lo! to what base extremes infernal pride Can push a princely spirit once in Heaven. Thee we will not destroy now, for thine hour Hath yet to come⁠—when least thou thinkest it. God’s wrath thou hast endured in punishment. Not yet His power. Away! I warn ye hence Ere wrath ride forth again. To Him the Fiend Answered: God rules not us the unordered damned, Nor recks of hell. For ages past belief, Unless by those who like ourselves denied Thine own eternity⁠—by creature mind, However lofty, hardly compassed⁠—we Have borne our pain without remorse, or sign Of pity from our Maker. Shall we now Believe, while thus confronting Him again, He means us better? Never worse than now. Therefore I say to ye, on! mightiest fiends, On! Let us reap companions for our woes, Or earn annihilation! At the word, His fiery phalanx rushed to bar the way Of Him whose ways are over all His works. A million spears blazed forth their answer bright, As of as many tongues. Serene our ranks Stood as the stars o’er thunder. God the Son Sat in His orbèd car, and breathed on them; And they were rolled up like the desert sands Before the burning wind⁠—throne wrecked on throne, All ruined and fordone. Pursue! He cried, Nor let them near the earth I go to judge. And we pursued, as many as He chose, And chased from sphere to sphere that wretched wreck Of falsest fiends:⁠—and I, it seems, am first Of all my victor brethren to declare The triumph past and coming, and to cheer Tour hearts with tidings of our Lord, to whom Be glory for His universal deeds, And to him, only God!
Saint Behold where comes Another warrior-angel from on high; Like angels, always singly or in hosts.
Angel It is the most dread Azrael, unto whom The sword of Death is given as a boon.
Saint What sayst thou, heavenly one?
Azrael To the extreme bound Of Light’s domain we chased the flying foe, Who on the confines of the lower air Once rallied at their leader’s stern command, Whom more they fear, or seem to fear, than God. They halted, formed, and faced us. I and mine, As on we came in order, full career, Exalted by success, hoped ardently One more convincing contest; but in spite Of future woe or the tempestuous threats Of the great Fiend who marshalled them, each eyed His neighbor pale; their trembling shook all air; And each one lift his arm, but no one struck. Awhile in dead throe-like suspense they stood, Or like the irresolution of the sea At turn of tide⁠—then wheeled and fled amain, And in one mass immense broke down from Heaven, Cliff-like;⁠—there let them lie! such fate have fiends. And we returned, hoping to meet, as charge To all was given, the Lord our glory here.
Archangel Let all the dead rejoice! their Saviour comes.