Uondel's Cucifer
 
 zfa Joe^tJ Sclera, cum. /■^aV3>6J^S' VS- artz. re^ff/yit. 
 
 ifAosufrctj,
 
 1 ^ QU
 
 Entered according to act of Congress, in the year 1898, 
 by Continental Publishing Co., in the office of 
 the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.
 
 &5 V5 
 
 Dedicaied By permission 
 To the 
 
 fiollana society of Dew Vork 
 
 Which has ever shonon a great interest in the 
 
 achievements of the heroic race to ivhich 
 
 it proudly traces its origin 
 
 and 
 
 To my brother 
 
 Cbarles Ceonara van Doppen 
 
 Whose inspiring tove and self-sacrificing 
 
 devotion have made this effort 
 
 possible
 
 PAGE 
 
 Translator's Preface J 3 
 
 Introduction . . Dr, W. K Carpenter, \9 
 Vondel and His Lucifer. Dr, G, Kalff . . 27 
 Vondel : His Life and Times. A Sketch. 
 
 Translator . . 4J 
 The ** Lucifer.'' An Interpretation. 
 
 Translator . .157 
 
 Bibliography , " 227 
 
 Parallelisms between Vondel and Milton . 229 
 
 Vondel's Dedication 239 
 
 On His Majesty's Portrait . . . .243 
 
 Vondel's Foreword 245 
 
 Lucifer 259 
 
 The Argument 263 
 
 Dramatis Personae 265 
 
 Act I. The Peaceful Joys of Paradise . . 267 
 Act II. The Cloud of Conspiracy . . . 295 
 Act IIL The Gathering Gloom . . . 329 
 Act rV. The Seething Seas of Sedition . . 373 
 Act V. Flood and Flame 403 
 
 9
 
 ^n^ 
 
 Tllu$tration$. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Portrait of Von<ieI . ♦ . . Frontispiece, 
 The Falling Morning Star ♦ . . . 237 
 
 Lucifer * * . 26\ 
 
 ApoIIion's Meeting with Belzebub and Belial. 27J 
 Adam and Eve in Paradise before the Fall . 279 
 
 Chorus of Angels 289 
 
 The Exaltation of Man 299 
 
 Gabriel, the Herald and Interpreter of Heaven Z\\ 
 
 The Sorrowing Angels 333 
 
 Michaelt God's Field-marshal .... 355 
 
 The Disaffected Spirits 375 
 
 Rafael Pleading with Lucifer . . . 389 
 The Battle in the Heavens . . . .417 
 Our First Parents after the Fall . . .429 
 The Rebels in Hell 435
 
 Cranslator's Preface. 
 
 'T is with a feeling of diffidence that I 
 offer to American readers this the 
 first English version of that unknown 
 Titan, Vondel, a poet of whom 
 Southey's words on Bilderdyk, an- 
 other Dutch bard, might also have been 
 spoken : 
 
 " The language of a state 
 Inferior in illustrious deeds to none, 
 But circumscribed by narrow bounds, . . . 
 Hath pent within its sphere a name wherewith 
 Europe should else have rung from side to side." 
 
 This translation of the "Lucifer" is the re- 
 sult of years of careful study, and I may there- 
 fore be pardoned for calling it a conscientious 
 effort. My object has been to give merely a 
 
 13
 
 TRANSLATOR'S 
 
 literal but sympathetic rendering. It has been 
 my aim to preserve the old poet in all his rug- 
 ged simplicity, for every syllable of this classic 
 has been hallowed by centuries. It is sacred, 
 and every change is but a desecration. 
 
 Sacred as is the body of such a poem, yet 
 how much holier is its spirit — the elusive prop- 
 erties of its soul ! But how seldom does the 
 translation of a great classic prove other than 
 the breaking of the chalice and the spilling of 
 the wine ! Yet if but some faint aroma of its 
 original beauty linger around the fragment of 
 this offering — this version of Vondel's grand 
 drama — I lay down my pen content. 
 
 I am aware that less accuracy and a greater 
 freedom might in many places have produced 
 a more ornate and highly finished rendering; 
 but this, it seems to me, would have weakened 
 a poem — a poem whose chief merit is its re- 
 markable virility. Every word in a translation 
 of a classic, not in the original, is but the alloy 
 that lessens the proportion of true gold in the 
 coin of its worth. Felicitous paraphrasing is 
 often only a confession of inability to translate 
 an author into the true terms of poetical equa- 
 tion. Mere prettinesses are surely not to be 
 expected in a poem so sublime and stately. I 
 have therefore followed the text of the original 
 very closely. 
 
 14
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 The body of the drama was written by Von- 
 del in rimed Alexandrines. This part of the 
 play I have rendered into blank verse — a met- 
 rical form far better suited to the English 
 drama, and also more adapted to the genius of 
 our language. It is obvious, too, that this ad- 
 mits of much greater accuracy in the trans- 
 lation. 
 
 I have, however, scrupulously adhered to the 
 original metres of all the choruses — most of 
 them very involved and intricate, some modelled 
 after the antique— even to preserving the femi- 
 nine and interior rimes; for the utility and 
 beauty of the chorus is in its music, and the 
 music consists in both metre and rime. I have 
 also generally followed Vondel's capitalization 
 and punctuation, and his spelling of the names 
 of the characters, as Belzebub, Rafael, ApoUion, 
 
 etc. 
 
 With the much discussed question of Milton's 
 indebtedness to Vondel this effort has nothing 
 to do. I mention this merely to show that this 
 version was not made that it might be adduced 
 as proof of Vondel's influence on his great Eng- 
 lish contemporary. It has a much higher rea- 
 son to commend it ; namely, the intrinsic value 
 of the original as a poem and as a national mas- 
 terpiece. My desire has been to give Vondel ; 
 and Vondel is a sufficient justification. 
 
 IS
 
 TRANSLATOR'S 
 
 At the same time, I was not displeased when 
 I received a letter from a distinguished Ameri- 
 can scholar, stating that this translation also 
 incidentally fills a wide gap in the Miltonic 
 criticism, and that it thus supplies a great de- 
 sideratum. 
 
 With this version of Vondel's masterpiece I 
 have also been asked to give a sketch of the 
 poet and his time, and an interpretation of the 
 drama, since there is so little in English on the 
 subject. 
 
 In writing the former, I found much of value 
 in Mr. Gosse's charming essays on Vondel, in 
 his " Northern Studies." I must also acknowl- 
 edge my great obligations to Dr. KalfT's " Life 
 of Vondel." 
 
 Before closing I wish to thank the poets and 
 scholars of the Netherlands for their encourage- 
 ment. Their kind reception of my effort was a 
 gratifying surprise to me. 
 
 I must also take this opportunity to record 
 the kindness of that eminent scholar. Dr. G. 
 Kalff, Professor of Dutch Literature in the 
 University of Utrecht, who, though over- 
 whelmed with professional duties, with the 
 most painstaking care examined every part of 
 my translation, giving me, furthermore, the 
 benefit of his critical observations. The brilliant 
 article on Vondel and his " Lucifer," with which 
 
 i6
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 he has favored this volume, is an added reason 
 for my gratitude. 
 
 I also thank Dr. W. H. Carpenter of Colum- 
 bia University for his kind interest in my work, 
 and for his invaluable introduction. 
 
 And, finally, to my friends, Prof. Henry Je- 
 rome Stockard, the Southern poet ; Dr. Thomas 
 Hume, Professor of English Literature in the 
 University of North Carolina; and Dr. C. 
 Alphonso Smith, Professor of English in the 
 University of Louisiana, I also express my 
 thanks for some excellent suggestions. 
 
 17
 
 Tntroductiom 
 
 Uondcrs Cucifer in €ndli$D. 
 
 'T has become a matter of literary- 
 tradition, in Holland and out of it, 
 that the choral drama of " Lucifer " 
 is the great masterpiece of Dutch 
 literature. The Dutch critics, how- 
 ever, are by no manner of means unanimous in 
 this opinion. In point of fact, it has been as- 
 signed by some a place relatively subordinate 
 among the works of this " Dutch Shakespeare," 
 as they are fond of calling Vondel at home. 
 No other one, however, in the long list of his 
 dramas and poems, from the " Pascha " of 1612 
 to his last translations of 1671, the beginning 
 and the end of a literary career, in which one of 
 the greatest of Dutch writers on its history has 
 
 19
 
 INTRODUCTION: 
 
 pronounced the poetry of the Netherlands to 
 have attained its zenith, will, none the less, so 
 strongly appeal to us, outside of Holland, as 
 does the " Lucifer." Vondel's tragedy " Gys- 
 breght van Amstel" may have found far greater 
 favor as a drama, and the poet may possibly in 
 his lyrics have risen to his greatest height ; but 
 neither the one nor the other, in spite of this, 
 can have such supreme claims upon our atten- 
 tion. 
 
 Why this is so is dependent upon a variety 
 of reasons. It is not solely on account of the 
 lofty character of the subject, nor because we 
 have an almost identical one in a great poem in 
 English literature, between which and the " Lu- 
 cifer " there is a more than generic resemblance. 
 The question of Milton's indebtedness to Von- 
 del is no longer to be considered an open one, 
 and has resolved itself into an inquiry simply as 
 to the amount of the influence exerted. This 
 is an interesting phase of the matter, and, since 
 it involves one of our great classics, an impor- 
 tant one. The two poems, nevertheless, how- 
 ever great this influence may be shown to be, 
 are by no manner of means alike in detail, and 
 one main source of interest to us, to whom 
 "Paradise Lost" is a heritage, is undoubtedly 
 to compare the treatment of such a subject by 
 two great poets of different nationalities. The
 
 DR. CARPENTER. 
 
 paramount reason, however, why the " Lucifer " 
 should appeal to us is because it is, in reality, 
 one of the great poems of the world ; because 
 of its inherent worth, its seriousness of purpose, 
 the sublimity of its fundamental conceptions, 
 its whole loftiness of tone. When the critics 
 praise others of Vondel's works for excellences 
 not shared by the " Lucifer," they extol him 
 immeasurably, for there is enough in this poem 
 alone to have made its author immortal. 
 
 It is a matter of surprise that down to the 
 present time there has been no English transla- 
 tion of "Lucifer," although, after all, its neglect 
 is but a part of the general indifference among 
 us to the literature of Holland in all periods of 
 its history. Why this should be so is not quite 
 apparent ; for wholly apart from the important 
 question of action and reaction as a constituent 
 part of the world's literature, the literature of 
 Holland has in it, in almost every phase of its 
 development, sublimities and beauties of its 
 own which surely could not always remain hid- 
 den. An era of translation was sure to set in, 
 and it is a matter of significance that its herald 
 has even now appeared. 
 
 That the first considerable translation of any 
 Dutch poet into English should be Vondel, and 
 that the particular work rendered should be the 
 "Lucifer," is, from the preeminent place of
 
 INTRODUCTION: 
 
 writer and poem in the literature of the Neth- 
 erlands, altogether apt. 
 
 It is particularly htting, however, that such 
 an English translation, both because it is first 
 and because it is Vondel, should be put forth, 
 beyond all other places, from this old Dutch 
 city of New York. There is surely more than 
 a passing interest in the thought that, at the 
 time of the appearance of Vondel's " Lucifer " 
 in old Amsterdam, in 1654, its reading public 
 was in part New Amsterdam, as well. Whether 
 any copy of the book ever actually found its 
 way over to the New Netherlands is a matter 
 that it is hardly possible now to determine; but 
 that it might have been read in the vernacular 
 as readily here as at home is a fact of history. 
 Only two years after the publication of the 
 " Lucifer," that is in 1656, Van der Donck, as 
 his title page states, " at the time in New 
 Netherland," printed his " Beschryvinge van 
 Nieuw-Nederlant," in which occurs the familiar 
 picture of " Nieuw Amsterdam op 't Eylant 
 Manhattans," with its fort, and flagstaff, and 
 windmill, its long row of little Dutch houses, 
 and its gibbet well in the foreground as an un- 
 mistakable symbol of law and order. 
 
 Strikingly enough, too, during the lifetime of 
 Vondel we were making our own contributions 
 to Dutch literature ; modest they certainly may
 
 DR. CARPENTER. 
 
 have been, but real none the less. Jacob Steen- 
 dam, the first poet of New York, wrote here at 
 least one of his poems, the " Klagt van Nieuw- 
 Amsterdam," printed in Holland in 1659, and 
 from this same period are the occasional verses 
 of those other Dutch poets, Henricus Selyns, 
 the first settled minister of Brooklyn, and of 
 Nicasius de Sille, first colonial Councillor of 
 State under Governor Stuyvesant. Steendam, 
 after he had returned from these shores to the 
 Fatherland, is still a New Netherlander in spirit, 
 for he continued to sing in vigorous, if homely, 
 verses of the land he had left, which in his long 
 poems, " T Lof van Nieuw-Nederland," and 
 " Prickel-Vaersen " he paints in glowing colors : 
 
 Nieuw-Nederland, gy edelste Gewest 
 Daar d'Opperheer (op 't heerlijkst) heeft gevest 
 De Volheyt van zijn gaven ; alder-best 
 
 In alle Leden. 
 
 Dit is het Land, daar Melk en Honig vloeyd : 
 Dit is't geweest, daar 't Kruyd (als dist'len) groeyd : 
 Dit is de Plaats, daar Arons-Roede bloeyd : 
 
 Dit is het Eden. 
 
 A translation of Vondel, from what has been 
 said, is, accordingly, in a certain sense, a re- 
 habilitation, a restoration to a former status 
 that through the exigency of events has been 
 lost. While this may be considered from some 
 
 23
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 points of view but a curiosity of coincidence, it 
 is in reality, as has been assumed, much more 
 than that : it is a pertinent reminder of our his- 
 torical beginnings, a harking back to the cen- 
 tury that saw our birth as a province and as a 
 city, to the mother country and to the mother 
 tongue. 
 
 Of the Hterature of Holland, from the lack of 
 opportunity, we know far too little. The trans- 
 lation into English of Vondel's "Lucifer" is 
 not only in and for itself an event of more than 
 ordinary importance in literary history, but it 
 cannot fail to awaken among us a curiosity as 
 to what else of supreme value maybe contained 
 in Dutch literature, and thereby, in effect, form 
 a veritable "open sesame" to unlock its hidden 
 treasures. 
 
 Wm. H. Carpenter, 
 
 Professor of Germanic Philology, 
 
 Columbia University, New York. 
 New York, April \, 1898. 
 
 I 
 
 24
 
 Tntroductioit: Dr. K^lff. 
 
 >HEN Vondel, in 1653, finished his 
 " Lucifer," he stood, notwith- 
 standing his sixty-six laborious 
 years, with undiminished vigor 
 upon one of the loftiest peaks 
 in his towering career. 
 
 A long road lay behind him, in some places 
 rough and steep, though ever tending upwards. 
 What had he not experienced, what had he not 
 endured since that day in 1605 when he con- 
 tributed a few faulty strophes to a wedding 
 feast — the first product of his art of which we 
 have any knowledge ! 
 
 After a long and wearisome war, full of bril- 
 liant feats of arms, his countrymen had, at 
 length, closed a treaty full of glory to them- 
 selves with their powerful and superior adver- 
 
 27
 
 INTRODUCTION: 
 
 sary. The Republic of the United Netherlands 
 had taken her place among the great powers of 
 the earth. In the East and in the West floated 
 the flag of Holland. Over far-distant seas glided 
 the shadows of Dutch ships, en route to other 
 lands, bearing supplies to satisfy their needs, 
 or speeding homewards freighted with riches. 
 
 Prince Maurice was dead. Frederic Henry 
 and William H. had come and gone. De Witt, 
 however, guided the helm of the ship of state; 
 and as long as De Ruyter stood on the quarter- 
 deck of his invincible " Seven Provinces " no 
 reason existed to inspire an Englishman with a 
 " Rule Britannia." 
 
 Knowledge soared on daring wings. Art 
 reigned triumphant. The Stadhuis at Amster- 
 dam was nearing completion. Rembrandt's 
 " Night Patrol " already hung in the great hall 
 of the Arquebusiers, and his " Syndics of the 
 Cloth Merchants" was soon to be begun. 
 
 Fulness of life, growth of power, and the ex- 
 tension of boundaries were everywhere apparent. 
 The life of the period is like an impressive 
 pageant : in front, proud cavaliers, in high sad- 
 dles, on their prancing steeds, with splendid 
 colors and dazzling weapons, while silk banners 
 gorgeously embroidered are waving aloft ; in the 
 rear, beautiful triumphal chariots and pictur- 
 esque groups ; around stands a clamorous mul- 
 
 28
 
 DR. KALFF. 
 
 titude that for one moment forgets its cares in 
 the glow of that splendor, though often only 
 kept in restraint with difficulty. 
 
 In the midst of this busy, murmurous scene, 
 Vondel with steady feet pursued his own way ; 
 often, indeed, lending his ear to the voices with 
 which the air reverberated, or feasting his eyes 
 upon color and form ; often, too, lifting his voice 
 for attack or defence ; though still more often 
 with averted glance, and lost in meditation, 
 listening to the voice within. 
 
 Life had not left him untried. In many a 
 contest, especially in his struggles against the 
 Calvinistic clergy, he had strengthened his belief 
 on many a doubtful point, developed his powers, 
 and sharpened his understanding. 
 
 He had lost two lovely children ; his tenderly 
 beloved wife, who lived for him, had left him 
 alone ; his conversion to Catholicism had cost 
 him much internal strife, and had brought with 
 it the loss of former friends; his oldest son, 
 Joost, had plunged him into financial difficulties, 
 which resulted in ruin: yet beneath all this his 
 sturdy strength did not fail him. 
 
 The fire of his spirit, not suppressed or smoth- 
 ered by the piled-up fuel of early learning, but 
 constantly and richly fed with that which was 
 best, burned with a fierce flame, ever hungry for 
 new food. Treasures of art and knowledge he 
 
 29
 
 INTRODUCTION: 
 
 had gathered, even as the honey-bee culls her 
 store out of all meadows and flowers ; for 
 towards art and knowledge his heart ever in- 
 clined — towards those muses of whom, in his 
 " Birthday Clock of William Van Nassau," he 
 said : 
 
 " For whom all life I love ; and without whoin, ah me ! 
 The glorious majesty of sun I could not gladly see." 
 
 In an awe-inspiring number of long and short 
 poems, he had, since those first lame verses, 
 developed his art ; he had taught his understand- 
 ing to make use of life-like forms in the con- 
 struction of his dramas; his feelings he had 
 made deeper and more refined ; his taste he had 
 ennobled ; his self-restraint he had increased ; his 
 technique he had made perfect. 
 
 Did his Bible remain the fount from which 
 he preferred to draw the material for his dramas, 
 he also gladly borrowed his motifs from the past 
 of classical antiquity, and from the every-day 
 Netherland life around him. His own fiery 
 belief and deep convictions, and irrepressible 
 desire to give vent to them, caused the person 
 of the poet to be seen more clearly in his 
 characters than we observe to be the case in 
 the productions of his masters, the classic 
 tragedians. 
 
 " Palamedes" is a tempestuous defence of the
 
 DR. KALFF. 
 
 great statesman Oldenbarneveldt — a defence full 
 of intemperate passion, bitter reproach, and 
 burning satire. How fiercely glows there, in 
 each word, in each answer, in transparent allu- 
 sion and in scornful irony, the fire of party 
 spirit ! How often, too, do we there hear the 
 voice of the poet himself, as it trembles with 
 tender sympathy or with lofty indignation ! 
 
 " Gysbrecht van Amstel," a subject dearer to 
 the burghers of Amsterdam than most others, 
 is illuminated with the soft glimmer of altar- 
 candles mingled with airy incense. That same 
 light, that same perfume, we also perceive in 
 " Maeghden," " Peter en Pauwels," and " Maria 
 Stuart." 
 
 The Christ-like, humble thankfulness of a 
 Dutch burgher falls upon our ears in the 
 " Leeuwendaiers," that charming pastoral, in 
 which the wanton play of whistling pipe and 
 reed is constantly relieved by the silvery pure 
 tones of ringing peace-bells. 
 
 Does the history of the development of the 
 Vondelian drama teach us more about the man 
 Vondel, it also most clearly shows us the evolu- 
 tion of the artist. Especially after his transla- 
 tion of "Hippolytus" he had weaned himself 
 from the style of Seneca. More and more he 
 became filled with the grandeur of the Greek 
 tragedians, Sophocles and Euripides above all 
 
 31
 
 INTRODUCTION: 
 
 others. ^Eschylus he had not yet made his 
 own ; that hour was not yet come. 
 
 In " Gysbrecht van Amstel " we feel, for the 
 first time, that Vondel acknowledges the Greeks 
 as his masters, that he strives to follow them in 
 their sublime simplicity ; in their naturalness, 
 that never degenerates to the gross ; in their 
 freedom of movement, so different from the stiff- 
 ness of the school of Seneca; in the exquisitely 
 delicate manner in which the lyric is introduced 
 into the drama. In " Joseph in Dothan," 
 " Leeuwendalers," and " Salomon," we behold 
 the poet pursuing the same path, and here the 
 influence of the Greeks is still more perceptible. 
 
 We have attempted in a few rapid strokes to 
 give a brief outline of the time in which the 
 tragedy " Lucifer " had its origin, and also of 
 the man, the poet, who created it. 
 
 When Vondel first conceived the plan of 
 writing this tragedy is not known. However, 
 it is well known that this subject had early 
 made an impression upon him. In the collec- 
 tion of prints entitled " Gulden Winkel " (1613), 
 for which Vondel wrote the accompanying 
 mottoes, we already find the Archangel whom 
 God had doomed to the pit of hell. In the 
 " Brieven der Heilige Maeghden " (1642), and 
 in " Henriette Marie t'Amsterdam " (1642), we 
 also find mention of the revolt of the Archangel. 
 
 34
 
 DR. KALFF. 
 
 In the first-named work the strife between 
 Michael and Lucifer, with their legions, is 
 already seen in prototype. About 1650 he 
 had undoubtedly resolved upon a plan to 
 expand this subject into a tragedy. 
 
 Was the fallen Archangel for a long period 
 thus ever present to the poet's eye ? Did that 
 subject so enthrall him that, at last, he could 
 no longer resist the impelling desire to picture 
 it after his own fashion ? For the causes of this 
 interest we shall not have far to seek. 
 
 The seventeenth century was, more than 
 almost any other, the age of authority, and 
 " Lucifer " is the tragedy of the individual in 
 his revolt against authority. Vondel, the 
 Catholic Christian, to whom the ruling power 
 was holy — holy because it came from God ; 
 Vondel, the Amsterdam burgher, reared in the 
 fear of the Lord, and full of reverence for those 
 in authority as long as his conscience approved ; 
 Vondel must thus have been deeply impressed 
 by the thought of the presumptuous attempt 
 of the Stadholder of God, " the fairest far of 
 all things ever by God created," in his revolt 
 against the " Creator of his glory." Out of this 
 deep agitation this tragedy was born. 
 
 Only a genius such as that of Vondel or 
 Milton could bring itself to undertake so 
 dubious a task — out of such material to create a 
 
 33
 
 INTRODUCTION: 
 
 poem ; only the highest genius could succeed in 
 such gigantic attempt. Only such a poet can 
 translate us on the mighty wings of his imagi- 
 nation into the portals of heaven ; can present 
 to us angels that at the same time are so human 
 that we can put ourselves in their place, but 
 who, nevertheless, remain for us a higher order 
 of beings ; can dare to bring into a drama a 
 representation of God, without offending His 
 majesty. 
 
 With chaste taste the poet has only rapidly 
 sketched the scene of the drama; by means of 
 a few suggestive strokes, awaking in reader and 
 hearer a sympathetic conception : an illimitable 
 spaciousness radiant with light ; an eternal 
 sunshine, more beautiful than that of earth, 
 mirroring itself in the blue crystalline, above 
 which hover hosts of celestial angels ; here and 
 there in the background, the dazzling pediments, 
 towers, and battlements of ethereal palaces ; 
 far away, upon the heights beyond, the golden 
 port, from which God's " Herald of Mysteries " 
 came down into view. The earth lies im- 
 measurably far below ; high, high above, "So 
 deep in boundless realms of light," God reigns 
 upon His throne. 
 
 In that endless vast live and move the inhabi- 
 tants of Heaven in tranquil enjoyment. "Grief 
 never nestled 'neath those joyful eaves " until 
 
 34
 
 DR. KALFF. 
 
 the creation of man. Pride and envy now awake 
 in the breasts of the angels, and their suffering 
 begins. 
 
 Lucifer's passionate pride, which in its out- 
 bursts occasionally reminds us of the heroes of 
 Seneca; his dissimulation in the conversation 
 with the rebellious angels ; his wretchedness 
 when Rafael has opened his eyes to an appre- 
 ciation of his position ; his obstinate resistance 
 and untamed defiance — all this Vondel has por- 
 trayed for us in a masterly manner. Belzebub, 
 more than Lucifer, is the real genius of evil, 
 "the wicked one. He is this in his inclination 
 towards subtle mockery and sarcasm ; in his 
 hypocrisy ; in his wily use of Lucifer's weakness 
 to incite him to destruction ; in the art with 
 which he, while himself behind the curtain, 
 directs the course of events. 
 
 After the grand overture of the drama, 
 wherein men and angels are placed over against 
 one another, we see how, in the second act, 
 Lucifer comes on the scene, mounted on his 
 battle chariot, excited, embittered ; and then 
 the action develops itself in a remarkably even 
 manner. The clouds roll together ; more threat- 
 eningly, more heavily they impend ; the light 
 that glows from the towers and battlements of 
 Heaven grows tarnished ; the seditious angels 
 gradually lose their lustre ; the thunder ap- 
 
 35
 
 INTRODUCTION: 
 
 preaches with dull rumblings ; one moment it 
 is stayed, even at the point of outbursting, 
 where Rafael, " oppressed and wan," throws 
 himself appealingly on Lucifer's neck; then it 
 precipitates itself in a terrible storm of strife 
 between desperate rage and the powers above. 
 The fall of man is the sombre afterpiece of this 
 intensely interesting drama. 
 
 All of this is discussed in verses that know 
 not their equal in nobility of sound, in fulness 
 and purity of tone, in rapidity of change from 
 tenderness to strength, in wealth of coloring. 
 
 Through its opulence and beauty this tragedy 
 holds a unique place in our literature. Only 
 " Adam in Ballingschap " can be placed beside 
 it. Only Vondel can with Vondel be compared. 
 If, however, one should compare this produc- 
 tion with the best that has been produced in 
 this kind of poetry by other nations, its splen- 
 dor remains undimmed ; beside the masterpieces 
 of .^schylus, Dante, and Milton, Vondel's main- 
 tain an equal place. 
 
 To this tragedy and to other works of Von- 
 del and of some of our other poets we proudly 
 point, if strangers ask us in regard to our right 
 to a place in the world's literature. It could, 
 therefore, not be otherwise than that a Neth- 
 erlander who loves his countrymen should be 
 glad when the bar between his literature and 
 
 36
 
 DR. KALFF. 
 
 that of the outside world is raised; when other 
 nations are furnished occasion to admire one of 
 our national treasures, and are thereby enabled 
 to have a better knowledge of the character and 
 the significance of our people. 
 
 We heartily rejoice over the fact that Von- 
 del's drama has been translated into English by 
 an American for Americans, with whom we 
 Netherlanders have from time immemorial 
 been on a friendly footing. We rejoice, too, 
 that this rendering into a language which is 
 more of a world tongue than our own will also 
 give to Englishmen an opportunity to enjoy 
 Vondel's work. 
 
 Were this translation an inferior one, or were 
 it only mediocre, we should have no reason to 
 be glad. Then, surely, it were better that the 
 translation had never been made ; for to be 
 unknown is better than to be misknovvn. 
 
 But in this case it is otherwise. Although 
 no translation can entirely compensate for the 
 lack of the original, it is, however, possible for 
 the original to be followed very closely. This 
 is well shown by this rendering, which to a high 
 degree possesses the merit of accuracy, while, 
 at the same time, the spirit and the character 
 of Vondel's tragedy are felt, understood, and 
 interpreted in a remarkable manner. 
 
 Whoever is in a position, by the comparison 
 
 37 
 
 138 ^;
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 of the translation with the original, to form an 
 individual opinion of Van Noppen's work, will 
 probably be convinced, even as I have been, 
 that here an extraordinarily difficult task has 
 been magnificently done. May this translation, 
 therefore, aid in the spreading of Vondel's fame. 
 May it also be followed by many another equally 
 admirable rendering of the poetry and prose of 
 the Netherlands, and may thereby, further- 
 more, the bond be drawn more closely between 
 America and that land which at one time 
 possessed the opportunity to be the mother- 
 country. 
 
 G. Kalff, 
 
 Professor of Dutch Literature, 
 
 University of Utrecht. 
 
 Utrecht, Holland, October lo, 1897. 
 
 38
 
 Uondel: 
 
 fH% Cift iNd times. 
 
 " Vondel ! thousand thousand voices 
 Echo answer — grandly sing 
 Praises to our greatest poet, 
 Hailing him the poets' king." 
 
 Dr. Schaepman. 
 
 THE DUTCH RENAISSANCE. 
 
 ES, truly, it is a great thing for a na- 
 tion that it get an articulate voice 
 — that it produce a man who will 
 speak forth melodiously what the 
 heart of it means." 
 Profounder truth, that keen aphorist, the 
 Sage of Chelsea, never cast into heroic mould. 
 
 The consciousness of a great literature is a 
 grander basis for national exaltation than the 
 
 41
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 possession of victorious fleets and invincible 
 battalions. The nation whose highest aspira- 
 tion and most glorious impulse, whose noblest 
 action and deepest thought, have been crystal- 
 lized into fadeless beauty by the soul of native 
 genius, has surely more lasting cause for pride 
 than she whose proudest boast is a superiority 
 in mere material achievement. 
 
 The everlasting shall always have precedence 
 over the momentary ; the time-serving heroics 
 of to-day are the laughter-compelling traves- 
 ties of to-morrow ; the golden colossus of one 
 age is the brazen pigmy of the next. Beauty 
 alone is unfading; art alone is eternal. 
 
 " All passes: art alone 
 Enduring stays to us; 
 The bust outlasts the throne ; 
 The coin, Tiberius. 
 
 " Even the gods must go ; 
 Only the lofty rime, 
 Not countless years o'erflow. 
 Not long array of time." 
 
 Happy the country blest with a heritage of 
 noble deeds ! Thrice happy she whose glory 
 is a treasury of noble words ! Only from great 
 actions can gigantic thoughts be born. 
 
 Nowhere was the Revival of Learning more 
 joyfully received than in the Netherlands. At 
 
 42
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 the bidding of the Renaissance, the monasteries, 
 those storehouses of the knowledge of the past, 
 unlocked their precious lore. The classics were 
 now for the first time conscientiously studied ; 
 not so much for themselves, as to shed the 
 light of the past upon the present, to furnish 
 suggestions for new discoveries. 
 
 Erasmus was but the pioneer of a host of 
 scholars and philosophers. Thomas-a-Kempis 
 was but the forerunner of a race of distinguished 
 literati. The following generation also studied 
 the moderns ; and the wonderful genius of 
 Italy, as well as the brilliant talent of France, 
 now lighted up the dark recesses of the Cathe- 
 dral of Gothic art. 
 
 The Reformation, like a tiny acorn, first 
 pierced the rich mould of civil life. Then 
 bursting into the sunshine, it towered into the 
 sky of religious life an imperious oak. The 
 dormant energies of the Low Germans were 
 now kindled into a blaze of creative activity. 
 As in Italy, this first revealed itself in the in- 
 creased power of the cities, the Tradesmen's 
 Guilds, the Chambers of Rhetoric, and the 
 growing privileges of the citizens; for example, 
 the burghers of Utrecht and of Amsterdam. 
 It next manifested itself in the Universities and 
 in the Church. 
 
 Hand in hand with this extraordinary intel- 
 
 43
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 lectual development went the sturdy manli- 
 ness of a vigorous national life. It was the era 
 of enterprise and adventure ; of invention and 
 discovery. Daring was the spirit, attainment 
 the achievement, of this age — this age that 
 dared all. 
 
 Proud in the philosophy wrested from experi- 
 ence, the race sought to extend its intellectual 
 empire even in the domain of transcendental- 
 ism. Knowledge, like Prometheus, bound for 
 centuries to the gloomy cliff of superstition, 
 suddenly rent its bonds and stood forth in all 
 of its tremendous strength, gigantic and un- 
 shackled ; a god, flaming to conquer the be- 
 nighted realms of ignorance ! Imagination, like 
 a fire-plumed steed, preened for revelries, 
 soared to the stars, and roamed unbridled 
 through the boundless deep of space. 
 
 The world ran riot for truth. In England, 
 Italy, France, and Spain, as well as in Holland, 
 arose a race of explorers that gave to the earth 
 another hemisphere, and discovered another 
 solar system in the universe of thought. 
 
 The world called loud for blood. Truth was 
 not to be attained without sacrifice ; freedom 
 was not to be won without battle. Universal 
 struggle was to precede universal achievement. 
 A whirlwind of death now swept over the earth, 
 leaving in its wake carnage and disaster. The 
 
 44
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 passions of men burst asunder the chains of 
 duty and religion, and swooped on the nations 
 with desolating rage. 
 
 The world was in travail. Hope was born, 
 error vanquished, tyranny dethroned. The 
 dawn of a new life had come. The night was 
 over. The sparks of war became the seeds of 
 art. The Netherland imagination was suddenly 
 quickened into creative rapture by the contem- 
 plation of the heroism of the great Orange and 
 the founders of the Republic. 
 
 A generation of fighters is always the pre- 
 cursor of an epoch of singers. The panegyrist 
 and the historian ever follovV in the train of the 
 soldier and the statesman ; the epic and the 
 eulogy as surely in the path of great deeds as 
 the polemic and the satire in the track of wick- 
 edness and folly. 
 
 The sculptor and the painter are evoked from 
 obscurity only by the call of heroes. The mu- 
 sician and the poet — the voice of the ideal — 
 stand ever ready to blazon forth the glory of 
 the real. Unworthy actions alone are unsung. 
 
 The foundations of the Dutch Republic had 
 been laid by a race of Cyclops, in whose battle- 
 scarred forehead glowed the single eye of free- 
 dom. A race of Titans followed, and built upon 
 this firm foundation a magnificent temple of art 
 and science, above whose four golden portals 
 
 45
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 were emblazoned, chiselled in " deathless dia- 
 mond," the names, Vondel, Rembrandt, Grotius, 
 and Spinoza, the high-priests of its worship. 
 
 It is of Vondel, the one articulate voice of 
 Holland, whose heart ever kept time with the 
 larger pulse of his nation, that we would now 
 speak. 
 
 CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH. 
 
 Justus van den Vondel was the son of Dutch 
 parents, and was born at Cologne, November 
 17, 1587. It is curious to note that above the 
 door of the house where the greatest bard of 
 the Low Germans first saw the light hung the 
 sign of a viol, a maker of that instrument hav- 
 ing at one time lived there. The poet used to 
 point to this fact as having been prophetic of 
 his poetic future ; and it was, surely, not an 
 uninspiring coincidence. 
 
 The elder Vondel was a hatter, and had fled 
 to Cologne from his native city, Antwerp, to 
 escape the persecution then raging against the 
 Anabaptists, of which church he was a zealous 
 and devout member. 
 
 In Cologne he had courted and married Sarah 
 Kranen, whose father, Peter Kranen, also an 
 Anabaptist, had likewise been driven from Ant- 
 werp by the fury of the Romanists. Peter 
 Kranen was not without reputation in his na- 
 
 46
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 tive city as a poet, and had won some distinc- 
 tion in the pubhc contests of the literary guilds, 
 of one of which he was a shining ornament. So 
 it seems that our poet drank in the divine 
 afflatus, as it were, with his mother's milk. 
 
 It is related that Kranen's wife, being preg- 
 nant, was unable to accompany her husband in 
 his hurried flight ; and, being left behind, was 
 confined in the city prison, where her severe 
 fright prematurely brought on the crisis. 
 Being strongly importuned by a cousin of the 
 young woman, who was required to furnish se- 
 curity for her re-appearance, the magistrates 
 finally permitted her to complete her travail at 
 her home. 
 
 After the birth of her child, when her cousin 
 again delivered her, sorrowful and heavy at 
 heart, into the custody of the jailer, he whis- 
 pered comfortingly in her ear, " With this hand 
 I have brought you here ; but with the other I 
 shall take you away again." 
 
 The time of her execution drew nigh. It 
 was intended that she should be burnt at the 
 stake with a certain preacher of her sect. 
 When this became known, the cousin went to 
 the dignitaries of the Church and asked if, in 
 case one of her children be baptized by a Catho- 
 lic priest, the mother would have a chance for 
 her life. The clergy, ever anxious to welcome 
 
 47
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 an addition to the fold, and more desirous to 
 save a soul than to burn a body, replied that it 
 might be so arranged. 
 
 One of the children, a daughter, who was 
 already with the father at Cologne, was then 
 hastily summoned. Upon her arrival, accord- 
 ingly, she was baptized after the manner of the 
 Catholic ritual, and received into the Church, 
 
 The mother, now free, hastened to the arms 
 of her joyful spouse, and the daughter who 
 thus saved her mother's life afterwards became 
 the mother of Vondel. 
 
 So even Vondel's Romanism, of which much 
 will be said farther on, might thus be consid- 
 ered as foreshadowed and inherited. 
 
 The year of Vondel's birth was also the year 
 of the execution of Mary Queen of Scots, whose 
 tragic end he was destined to celebrate. Shakes- 
 peare, the most illustrious poet of the heredi- 
 tary enemies of Vondel's countrymen, was just 
 twenty-three years old, and had already been 
 married four years to Anne Hathaway. William 
 the Silent, "the Father of his Country," had 
 only three years before, in the flower of his age, 
 been cut off by the red hand of the assassin. 
 
 The early childhood of the poet was spent at 
 Cologne. He never forgot the town of' his 
 birth, and, after the manner of the poets of an- 
 tiquity, sang its glories in many an eloquent rime. 
 
 48
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 After the storm of persecution had spent 
 its fury, the Vondels slowly returned by way 
 of Bremen and Frankfort to the Netherlands. 
 They rode in a rustic wagon, across which were 
 fastened two strong sticks. From these was sus- 
 pended a cradle, inwhich lay their youngest child. 
 This simplicity and their modest demeanor and 
 unaffected piety so impressed the wagoner that 
 he "Was heard to say : " It is just as if I were 
 journeying with Joseph and Mary." 
 
 The family first stopped at Utrecht, where the 
 young " Joost " went to school. His early edu- 
 cation, however, was very meagre, ending with 
 his tenth year ; so that he whose attainments 
 were afterwards the admiration of his scholarly 
 contemporaries, and the wonder of posterity, 
 commenced life with the most threadbare equip- 
 ment of learning. 
 
 Surely the plastic imagination of the boy must 
 have been wonderfully impressed by the grand- 
 eur of that gigantic Gothic pile, the Utrecht 
 Cathedral, and its tremendous campanile, point- 
 ing like a huge index finger unerringly to God, 
 and towering so sublimely above the beautiful 
 old town and the fertile meadows all around! 
 
 In 1597 we find the family in Amsterdam, 
 of which flourishing city the elder Vondel had 
 recently become a citizen, and where he had 
 opened a hosiery shop. 
 
 49
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 This business must have proved remunerative, 
 as one of his younger children, his son William, 
 afterwards studied law at Orleans, and then 
 travelled to Rome, where he applied himself to 
 theology and letters, a course of study which 
 in that age, even more than to-day, must have 
 been beyond the means of even the ordinary 
 well-to-do citizen. 
 
 Though the subject of our sketch was not so 
 fortunate in this respect as his younger brother, 
 yet he made good use of his opportunities; and 
 it is recorded that, even before he had reached 
 his teens, his rimes attracted considerable atten- 
 tion among the friends of the family. 
 
 When only thirteen years old, we find his 
 verses complimented as showing unusual prom- 
 ise. It was Peter Cornelius Hooft, the talented 
 young poet, son of the burgomaster of the city, 
 who was at that time pursuing a course of study 
 in Italy, who incidentally made this passing ref- 
 erence in an interesting rimed epistle to the 
 Chamber of the Eglantine at Amsterdam. 
 
 This Chamber was one of the literary guilds 
 founded in imitation of the French Colleges de 
 Rhetoriqiie ; and it played so important a part 
 in the literary history of the city and in the 
 life of our poet that we ask indulgence if an 
 account of it cause what may seem a little 
 digression. 
 
 so
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 Under the rule of the House of Burgundy, 
 the French feeling for dramatic poetry had 
 been introduced into the Netherlands. This 
 was fostered, not only by the exhibitions of the 
 travelling minstrels, but also by the impressive 
 and often gorgeous Miracle and Mystery Plays 
 of the clergy. In the wake of these followed 
 the more artistic Morality Plays. These alle- 
 gorical representations did much to create a 
 purer taste and to waken a greater demand for 
 the drama. 
 
 The people suddenly began to take unusual 
 interest in declamation and in dramatic exhibi- 
 tions ; and Chambers of Rhetoric, for the indul- 
 gence of this new taste, were soon established 
 in all of the prominent cities of the country. 
 
 These societies also began sedulously to culti- 
 vate rhetorica, or literature, and soon became 
 nothing less than an association of literary 
 guilds, bound together in a sort of social Han- 
 seatic league, designed for their own defence 
 and for the fostering of their beloved art. 
 
 Each was distinguished by some device, and 
 usually bore the name of some flower. They 
 were wont also to compete against each other 
 in rhetorical contests called " land-jewels," to 
 which they would march, costumed in glorious 
 masquerade, and to the sound of pealing trump- 
 ets and of shrill, melodious airs. 
 
 SI
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 As was natural, the follies of the Church were 
 too tempting a subject for these Chambers to 
 resist ; and many of them, long before the 
 thundering polemics of Luther were heard, had 
 dramatized a stinging satire on the clergy, re- 
 vealing their vices in all of their hideous coarse- 
 ness, and making their follies the butt of their 
 unsparing mockery. 
 
 When the Reformation, therefore, trumped 
 her battle-cry, there throbbed a responsive echo 
 in the hearts of the Netherlanders, long dis- 
 gusted, as they were, with the excesses of a 
 dissolute priesthood. 
 
 These societies, therefore, exerted no little 
 influence on the social, religious, and intellectual 
 life of the country, and became a powerful aid 
 to the awakening of a national consciousness 
 and to the up-building of the language and the 
 literature. 
 
 Among them all, no other attained the dis- 
 tinction of the Chamber of the Eglantine at 
 Amsterdam. This Chamber, whose device was 
 " Blossoming in Love," was founded by Charles 
 v., and to it belonged many of the most promi- 
 nent citizens of that opulent city. All religious 
 discussions were forbidden within its walls; and 
 there, in that age of religious discord and rabid 
 intolerance, both Catholic and Protestant met 
 together in the worship of Apollo, It was to 
 
 5.2
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 this honored body that the name of the young 
 Vondel was introduced, and upon him, there- 
 fore, its members kept an attentive eye. 
 
 We next hear of Vondel as a youth of seven- 
 teen. He had, it seems, all the while been 
 assisting his father in the cares of the little 
 hosiery shop ; but his mind was with his books, 
 and he employed every spare moment in read- 
 ing or in study. 
 
 About this period a friend of the family was 
 married, and the young poet must needs try his 
 wings. Accordingly, he wrote an epithalamium, 
 which, unfortunately for the poet, still survives. 
 As might have been expected, the too-aspiring 
 youth soared on Icarian wings. However, he 
 was not conscious of this at the time ; and lame 
 and faulty as these first efforts are, it may yet 
 be surmised that he felt the thrill of inspiration 
 and the rapture of creating no less than 
 when, in later life, he forged those Olympian 
 thunderbolts that fulmined over Holland, 
 causing tyrants to shake and multitudes to 
 tremble. 
 
 Soon after the wedding-verses, Vondel wrote 
 a threnody on the assassination of Henry IV. 
 of France, which was but little better than his 
 former effort. 
 
 We hear no more of our young poet till, like 
 the deer-stealing youth, Shakespeare, he stands, 
 
 53
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 in his young and vigorous manhood, blushing 
 at the altar. Maria de Wolff was the name of 
 the bride that the twenty-three-year-old hus- 
 band had won to share his destiny. 
 
 History does not record the circumstances 
 nor the incidents of his wooing; but from what 
 we know of his character, we will venture to say 
 that it was ardently done. 
 
 Of the sonnets and the love-verses that this 
 passion must have inspired in the soul of the 
 young poet nothing, unfortunately, seems to 
 be known. He who had, as a boy, written 
 tolerable verses at the marriage of another 
 must surely, as a man, have done something 
 better at his own. 
 
 "All the world loves a lover," be he ever so 
 humble. But the loves of the poets are of 
 especial interest^ 
 
 We therefore confess our disappointment that 
 no record exists wherein we could see the poet 
 in the sweet throes of that heart-consuming 
 passion. But, for all that, we feel that he loved 
 like a poet, and we know that his marriage 
 proved to be a most happy one. 
 
 His wife was in full sympathy with his every 
 thought and aspiration, and wisely left her star- 
 gazing husband to write verses while she stayed 
 behind the counter and sold stockings. She 
 was the daughter of a prosperous linen-mer- 
 
 54
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 cliant of Cologne, and was fortunately of a 
 practical turn of mind. 
 
 Thus, when Vondel succeeded to the business 
 of his father, she took upon herself not only the 
 management of the shop, but attended to the 
 house-keeping as well. 
 
 ASPIRATION. 
 
 In 1612 appeared Vondel's first drama, "The 
 Passover." It was the first of that splendid series 
 of Bible tragedies to which, in the field of the 
 sacred drama, neither ancient nor modern times 
 furnish a parallel. This play, which covertly 
 celebrated the recent escape of the Holland- 
 ers from the yoke of Spain, was played in 
 the Brabantian Chamber of the Lavender, to 
 which Vondel, whose family came from Bra- 
 bant, naturally belonged. 
 
 This poem showed the results of his years of 
 study, and was far superior to his earlier efforts. 
 Indeed, it gave such promise that Vondel was 
 immediately invited to become a member of 
 the Chamber of the Eglantine, and thus at 
 once stood on an equality with the most dis- 
 tinguished literati of the day. 
 
 Among these was Roemer Visscher, " the 
 round Roemer," as he was known among his 
 intimates. Visscher was celebrated for his epi- 
 
 5S
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 grams, and was called " the Dutch Martial." 
 He was a good type of the Dutch merchant of 
 his time, and on account of his wit and jollity 
 was very popular with the other members of 
 the society. 
 
 With his friends Coornhert and Spieghel he 
 had taken upon himself the serious task of puri- 
 fying and enriching his native tongue. 
 
 And it is in the works of these three men, 
 who at this time were all well advanced in years, 
 that we first see the promise of a literature 
 and the consciousness of a national destiny. 
 
 The stilted and artificial phraseology of the 
 Rhetoricians was soon succeeded by a natural, 
 flowing style. Originality once more asserted 
 its right to a hearing. Nature was studied with 
 enthusiastic contemplation. Art was once 
 more set on her high pedestal and worshipped. 
 
 Visscher looked with a philosophic eye on 
 the follies of the day, and his keenest epigrams 
 were pointed with a honied humor that deprived 
 them of their sharpest sting. 
 / But it was more as a patron of letters than 
 as a poet 'that he deserves to be remembered. 
 At his house all of the young Bohemians of 
 the day were wont to gather, and many the 
 contests of wit and many the battles in verse 
 that took place in this, the first literary salon 
 of the Netherlands. 
 
 56
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 But there was another attraction at the house 
 of this worthy burgher. The jovial Roemer had 
 two daughters, the blooming but sober Anna 
 and the beautiful and vivacious Tesselschade. 
 
 These young women, on account of their 
 many personal charms and numerous accom- 
 plishments, furnished a glowing theme to a 
 generation of poets. It is related that they 
 could each play sweetly on several instruments, 
 sing, paint, engrave on glass, cut emblems, em- 
 broider, and converse brilliantly. 
 
 They were by no means prigs, however, for 
 they also excelled in healthful bodily exercise, 
 as swimming, rowing, and skating; and they 
 were no less discreet and modest than accom- 
 plished and refined. Nor must it be forgotten 
 that they themselves also wrote verses full of 
 sweetness and tenderness ; verses, too, not with- 
 out lofty and noble sentiment, that are yet 
 treasured among the brightest gems in Holland's 
 diadem of song. 
 
 It was into this charming patrician circle that 
 our middle-class poet was now introduced, and 
 he manfully continued his attempts to remedy 
 the defects in his education, that he might meet 
 the many talented and learned men who came 
 there, on an equal footing. 
 
 Vondel was now twenty-six years old, and 
 began to apply himself assiduously to the study 
 
 57
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 of the languages. He took lessons in Latin from 
 an Englishman, and through his great industry- 
 he was soon able to read Virgil and Ovid. He 
 also began the study of French, and translated 
 " The Glory of Solomon " of Du Bartas, which 
 he considered a most admirable poem. About 
 the same time he wrote his second tragedy, the 
 " Jerusalem Desolate," which, on account of its 
 severe simplicity and elevated style, was the 
 theme of much favorable comment. 
 
 At the house of the Visschers, Vondel was 
 wont to meet, on terms of easy comradery, 
 among other rising young men of the day, the 
 erratic but brilliant Gerard Brederoo, the great- 
 est writer of comedies that Holland has ever 
 produced. 
 
 Brederoo was the son of a poor shoemaker of 
 Amsterdam, and on account of his extraor- 
 dinary talents was eagerly welcomed into the 
 most select circles. 
 
 Quite a contrast was the young aristocrat, 
 Peter Cornelius Hooft, of whom we have al- 
 ready spoken. Hooft was a patrician of the 
 patricians, and was the most accomplished and 
 elegant man of his day, the first gentleman of 
 his age. 
 
 He had already distinguished himself by sev- 
 eral remarkable poems, a superb pastoral, and 
 one or two powerful tragedies. 
 
 58
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 It was in the field of history and biography, 
 however, that he was to win his greenest laurels. 
 His history of the Netherlands and his biog- 
 raphy of Henry IV. of France, written in a 
 terse, forcible, epigrammatic style, have gained 
 for him the appellation of the " Dutch Tacitus." 
 Motley calls him one of the great historians of 
 the world. 
 
 Then there was Jan Starter, the son of an 
 English Brownist, who was destined to be one 
 of the sweetest lyrists of his adopted country ; 
 and Laurens Reael, another scion of aristocracy, 
 a handsome young man of some poetic power 
 and considerable learning, fated to become the 
 friend of the great Oldenbarneveldt, and, after 
 a splendid career as a soldier, the governor- 
 general of the Dutch East Indies. 
 
 Another visitor to this hospitable house was 
 Dr. Samuel Coster, a dramatist of no mean abil- 
 ity, who is now chiefly remembered as the 
 founder of Coster's Academy, an institution 
 founded in imitation of the Accademia della 
 Crusca of Florence. 
 
 Anna and Tesselschade were, of course, the 
 centre of this constellation of literary stars, and 
 few of the young men who met at their home 
 left it with heart unscorched by the fierce blaze 
 of love. Vondel was already married ; but to 
 the passion that these two beautiful women ex- 
 
 59
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 cited in most of the others, Dutch literature 
 owes its most exquisite love lyrics. 
 
 The ardent Hooft wooed the staid Anna only 
 to be rejected. However, the young knight 
 sought and soon obtained consolation elsewhere. 
 Brederoo, with all the fervor of his romantic 
 nature, poured out his soul in a cycle of burn- 
 ing love poems at the feet of the golden-haired 
 and dark-eyed Tesselschade. To her, too, he 
 dedicated his tragedy " Lucelle," calling the 
 object of his adoration " the honor of our city, 
 the glory of our age." 
 
 Few women in any epoch have exerted such 
 wonderful influence upon the literature of their 
 time. Not a poet of the day who was not in- 
 spired by their beauty and character ; not one, 
 furthermore, who did not dedicate to them 
 some production of his genius. And yet they 
 do not seem to have been the least spoiled by 
 such excessive notice. Their good sense and 
 modesty only heightened the excellent im- 
 pression excited by their beauty and their 
 talents. 
 
 How incomplete a sketch of Vondel's life 
 and age would be without a more than passing 
 reference to these accomplished sisters will be 
 better appreciated when we see the poet him- 
 self paying court to one of them, charmed not 
 only into a passion of the heart, but also into
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 taking a step which exerted a powerful influ- 
 ence on his life and works. 
 
 At the Visschers', in the circle of his friends, 
 the aspiring poet was wont to read the latest 
 effusions of his pen ; that he was much benefited 
 by the criticism to which his verses were there 
 subjected cannot be doubted. 
 
 His friendship with the most noted men of 
 the day warmed his ambition into a fever of 
 aspiration, and, like Milton, he early determined 
 to devote his whole life to the cultivation of 
 his beloved art. 
 
 With the aid of Hooft and Reael he trans- 
 lated the " Troades " of Seneca, which he then 
 sublimated into a tragedy of his own, the 
 " Hecuba of Amsterdam." This evoked con- 
 siderable praise from the critics of the day. 
 At this time, also, he showed his advancement 
 in technique and his improvement in style by 
 several lyrics of extraordinary merit. 
 
 It was thus in the midst of an admiring cir- 
 cle of distinguished friends that we find Vondel 
 cultivating his art. There, in the bosom of that 
 Catholic family, the Visschers, the poets of 
 that age found rest from the storm of religious 
 discord that raged without. 
 
 Arminian and Gomarist, Remonstrant and 
 Contra-Remonstrant, were waging that fierce 
 battle of the creeds that is yet the foulest blot 
 
 6i
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 upon the fair name of the heroic and tolerant 
 Republic. 
 
 Thus the Visscher mansion was the temple 
 of the Muses, where beauty alone was wor- 
 shipped. Religion was left by the visitor at the 
 threshold. Art alone was the garment that 
 gave admittance to this wedding-feast of poetry 
 and philosophy. 
 
 ''STORM AND STRESS." 
 
 Whether through the contemplation of the 
 fierce dissensions that then raged in the little 
 Republic, or through a natural melancholy of 
 temperament, Vondel now became subject to 
 the most distressing depression. 
 
 Occasionally he would flash from his gloom 
 into one of those firebrands of invective that, 
 thrown into the ranks of his enemies, created 
 a blaze of discord from one end of the coun- 
 try to the other ; occasionally, also, he was in- 
 spired for loftier themes, as his " Ode to St. 
 Agnes," which first showed his tendency to- 
 wards Catholicism. 
 
 Then he would relapse into his melancholy. 
 He lost his appetite and became afflicted with 
 various bodily ills. He seemed hastening into 
 a decline. This lasted several years, during 
 which several important changes had taken 
 
 62 
 
 1
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 place, not only among his friends, but also in 
 the ruling powers of the state. 
 
 On the 13th of May, 1618, John van 01den> 
 barneveldt, the aged Advocate of the States- 
 General, the greatest statesman of his time, and 
 the fiery patriot upon whom had fallen the 
 sacred mantle of William the Silent, was be- 
 headed. He had watched the destinies of the 
 infant Republic with the tender solicitude of a 
 loving shepherd ; he was now devoured by the 
 wolves who, in the guise of religion and of 
 patriotism, had crept into the fold. He had 
 given eighty years of devotion to the upbuild- 
 ing of his country; he was now to seal that 
 devotion with his blood. He had made his 
 native land a theme of glory among the nations 
 of the earth ; he was now accused of selling 
 that glory for the gold which he had always 
 despised. 
 
 A thankless generation had, under the cloak 
 of virtue, committed one of the most infamous 
 and revolting crimes in human annals. Where 
 shall we find a parallel ? The gray hairs of the 
 man, his learning, his ability, his unsullied life, 
 his splendid achievements in behalf of his na- 
 tive land, his grand renown, his unselfish devo- 
 tion, his patriotism — all this must be considered 
 when we compare his sad end with the fate of 
 the other political martyrs of history, too many 
 
 63
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 of whom have been unduly exalted by the man- 
 ner of their death. 
 
 Is it to be wondered at that such an impor- 
 tant event caused the deep-thinking poet the 
 revulsion that only comes to high-born souls ? 
 
 Is it surprising, furthermore, that that revul- 
 sion found its expression in what is perhaps the 
 finest satirical drama of modern times? 
 
 This period was the crisis in our poet's life. 
 The Contra-Remonstrants, or Gomarists, as 
 the extreme Calvinists were called, having dis- 
 posed of their hated enemy Oldenbarneveldt, 
 had now begun to play havoc with the liberties 
 of the people. Art and literature next suffered 
 through the blasting censorship of their fanati- 
 cal clergy. 
 
 The religious tolerance that had formed the 
 glory of the country only a decade before was 
 now succeeded by a rabid bigotry that with in- 
 sensate fury cut at the vitals of all that was 
 healthful and inspiring. Life, property, and 
 freedom were in peril. Nothing was safe. 
 
 Grotius, " the father of international law," 
 and also so distinguished as a scholar that he 
 was called the "wonder of the age," was impris- 
 oned, with the fate of his friend the great Ad- 
 vocate staring him in the face. From this fate, 
 moreover, he was only saved by the diplomatic 
 ingenuity of his devoted wife, who aided him to 
 
 64
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 escape from his prison at Loevestein, ensconced 
 in an empty book-chest which the unsuspect- 
 ing warden of the castle thought full of books. 
 Others of note were in hiding or in exile. 
 
 The boasted freedom of the freed Nether- 
 lands had turned to the direst form of oppres- 
 sion — the tyranny of a religious oligarchy. 
 
 And yet it was not an easy victory for the 
 Contra-Remonstrants. Every inch was bitterly 
 contested by their foes in Christ, the moderate 
 Calvinists, or Remonstrants. 
 
 This struggle, like the conflicts of the Floren- 
 tine factions of the Guelfs and Ghibellines, 
 divided the country into two hostile camps. 
 Even those of other religions allied themselves 
 with the one or other of these sects ; for sect 
 had now come to mean party. Vondel, with 
 whom religion and patriotism were fused into 
 one white heat, was not long in choosing the 
 party of the Remonstrants — the side of freedom. 
 
 We shall hereafter view this remarkable man 
 as the poet militant. For having once taken 
 the sword in hand, he did not let it fall until 
 his arm was palsied by death. 
 
 Much as he loved peace, his enemies hereaf- 
 ter took good care that he should never want 
 occasion to defend himself. It must be added, 
 however, that the poet was even more renowned 
 for attack than for defence. He was ever at the 
 
 65
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 head of the onset, ever in the thickest of th( 
 fray. 
 
 The sword of this crusader for the hberties of 
 his country — -the most formidable and dreaded 
 weapon of the age — was a pen ; and the pro- 
 duction that fell like a bombshell into the Go- 
 marist camp was the allegorical tragedy of 
 " Palamedes, or Murdered Innocence." 
 
 Under cover of the ancient legend of Pala- 
 medes, which lent itself most readily to such 
 analogy, he had portrayed the murder of the 
 old Advocate, and painted his judges in such 
 strong colors and with such accurate delineation 
 that each was recognized, and forever invested 
 with the shame and infamy he so richly merited. , 
 
 The greatest excitement prevailed, and the 
 first edition of the poem was sold in a few 
 days. The Goliath of error, slain by the pebble 
 of satire, lay on the ground, gasping in agony. 
 The David who had with one swift arm-swing 
 of thought accomplished this wonderful feat, 
 suddenly found himself the most famous man in 
 both camps. 
 
 In the meantime the party in power sought 
 to repress the book ; and as the poet was 
 thought to be in danger of imprisonment, or of 
 even a more tragic fate, he was advised by his 
 friends to go into hiding, which he did. 
 
 Threats were made against the man who had 
 
 66 

 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 so rashly dared the fury of those relentless 
 iconoclasts — the reigning Gomarists. It was 
 muttered that he ought to be taken to The 
 Hague to be tried, even as Oldenbarneveldt. 
 
 Meanwhile Vondel was concealed at the house 
 of Hans de Wolff, a brother of his wife, 
 who was also married to his sister dementia. 
 They were, however, afraid to harbor him any 
 longer; and his sister, it is said, upbraided him 
 for his itch for writing, saying that no good 
 could come of it, and that it would be better for 
 him to attend more strictly to his business. 
 
 Vondel's only reply was, " I shall yet tell 
 them sharper truths ; " and he straightway sat • 
 down and wrote some cutting pasquinades. 
 These, however, upon his sister's advice, he 
 threw into the fire, which he afterwards re- 
 gretted. 
 
 He next found shelter in the house of a 
 friend, Laurens Baake, who received him gladly. 
 Here he was hidden several days ; and the sons 
 and daughters of his host, being highly culti- 
 vated and exceedingly fond of poetry, were 
 much pleased with the society of so distin- 
 guished a poet, and for him made things as 
 comfortable as possible. Vondel ever proved 
 grateful for the many favors received at their 
 hands in the hour of his need. 
 
 His hiding-place was at last discovered, and 
 
 67
 
 n 
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 he was brought before the court. The plea 
 made by his lawyer in his behalf was that the 
 play " was poet's work and could be otherwise 
 interpreted than was commonly done." 
 
 Some of the judges expressed themselves 
 very severely ; and if their counsel had prevailed 
 there is no doubt but that the poet's career 
 would have ended with the " Palamedes." How- 
 ever, the old Batavian spirit also asserted itself, 
 others saying that civil liberty was but a mock- 
 ery when a man was no longer allowed the 
 freedom of speech. The result of the trial was 
 that Vondel was fined three hundred guldens, 
 which was paid by a friend — indeed, by one of 
 the judges themselves— who was secretly favora- 
 ble to Vondel and his party, and had encour- 
 aged the poet to write this very drama. We 
 are here reminded of the fate of the ^reat 
 
 o 
 
 Florentine. Dante, a patriot, yet an exile, ac- 
 cused of treason, and under sentence of death : 
 Vondel, forced to flee from an oligarchy of 
 unctuous hypocrites, in fear of his life, and 
 arraigned as a fomenter of discord. The ideas 
 of the great Hollander on government, and on 
 politics also, were not unlike the ideal Ghibel- 
 linism of the illustrious Tuscan. 
 
 Of course, the very nature of the play made 
 it popular, and the various attempts at its sup- 
 pression only made it more so. Two other edi- 
 
 68
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 tions shortly followed. Within a few years 
 thirty editions were sold. '' Nitinmr in vetitiun 
 semper cupimiisqiie negatay 
 
 Prince Maurice, the Stadholder. whose pow- 
 erful personality on account of his share in the 
 death of the Advocate was also severely handled 
 by the poet, died while Vondel was giving the 
 finishing touches to his drama. Long years 
 afterwards, when the poet was an old man, he 
 was wont to relate how on the very morning 
 that the news came to Amsterdam from The 
 Hague that the Stadholder was on his death- 
 bed, his wife came to the foot of the stairs that 
 led to the room where he was writing, and cried, 
 " Husband, the Prince is dying ! " 
 
 To which he replied : 
 
 " Let him die ! I am already tolling his knell." 
 
 Frederic Henry, who was the next Stad- 
 holder, was known to be at heart in favor of the 
 Remonstrants. 
 
 It was reported that the whole tragedy was 
 read to him in his palace, and that he was ex- 
 ceedingly pleased with it, finding much of in- 
 terest in the various episodes. Strange to say, 
 upon the walls of the room where he heard the 
 drama hung a piece of tapestry upon which 
 the history of the Greek Palamedes was artis- 
 tically pictured. Pointing to this, the Prince 
 said mockingly, " This tapestry should be taken 
 
 69
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 away, otherwise they might suppose that I also 
 favor the cause of Palamedes." 
 
 Apart from its influence on the time, and the 
 interest of its allegorical allusions, the " Pala- 
 medes " is a splendid tragedy, and its intrinsic 
 worth alone would make it immortal. One of 
 the choruses, especially, is justly celebrated for 
 its idyllic beauty. It has often been compared 
 to the "L'Allegro" of Milton, and, indeed, it 
 bears, in many particulars, much resemblance to 
 that exquisite lyric. 
 
 TESSELSCHADE. 
 
 Soon after the completion of the " Pala- 
 medes," Vondel was again for a long time in 
 a state of hopeless melancholy. He did not 
 yield to its depressing influence, however, and 
 at the age of forty began the study of Greek, in 
 which he made rapid progress. 
 
 He still associated with his fellow-Academi- 
 cians, though no longer at the home of Roemer 
 Visscher. 
 
 This patron of learning had now been dead 
 for several years. Other changes also had taken 
 place. Starter, after the publication of his 
 " Parisian Bower," seized with the spirit of ad- 
 venture, had enlisted as a private soldier, and 
 died, a few years afterwards, in one of the 
 
 70
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 battles of the Thirty Years' War. Laurens 
 Reael had gone to the Indies, and, after win- 
 ning the highest honors as soldier and states- 
 man, had come back again to his native land, 
 which he continued to serve in a diplomatic 
 capacity for many years. 
 
 Hooft had been honored by Prince Maurice 
 with one of the highest dignities in the state. 
 He had been appointed Judge of Muiden ; and 
 here, in his castle, in the society of his lovely 
 wife and beautiful children, he gave himself up 
 to his books. It was here in his "little tower," 
 one of the four turrets of this castle, that he 
 wrote his splendid history. Here he composed 
 many of those charming lyrics that combine 
 the lusciousness of the Italian after which they 
 were modelled, with the domestic sweetness of 
 the Dutch. Here, too, he wrote his great trage- 
 dies, " Baeto, or the Origin of the Hollanders," 
 and " Gerardt van Velsen." Hooft was essen- 
 tially a student and a scholar; a thinker rather 
 than a fighter. He did not, therefore, like 
 Vonxdel, the burgher, plunge with flaming soul 
 into the conflict. The patrician was too fond 
 of studious contemplation and of elegant ease 
 to allow the discord of the outside world to 
 mar the serene harmony of his retirement. 
 
 Brederoo had burnt himself out with the 
 intensity of his passion for his adored, but not 
 
 71
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 adoring, Tesselschade. Poor fellow ! after all 
 his poetic wooing and flattering dedications, he 
 had met with the bitter disappointment of a 
 refusal ; and, after a meteoric career, died, at 
 the age of thirty-six, a heart-broken man. 
 The delicate lyre-strings on that yEolian harp 
 had been snapped by the rude blast of unre- 
 quited love, and from the broken chords now 
 surged the mournful music of the grave. His 
 dazzling genius — eclipsed in its noon-tide splen- 
 dor by the swift night of death — was quenched 
 forever. Such was the sad but romantic end- 
 ing of the most brilliant man of his age, the 
 greatest humorist that Holland has yet pro- 
 duced. 
 
 And Tesselschade, the beautiful inspirer of 
 this passion.'' To her, too, time had brought 
 its changes. 
 
 Neptune's trident, it seems, had more attrac- 
 tion for her than the lyre of Apollo, whose 
 strings she had so often set into melodious 
 vibration. After being wooed for a whole dec- 
 ade by all the younger poets, she had at last 
 been won by a gallant sea-captain, Allart Krom- 
 balgh, and was now living happily in blissful 
 quiet with her husband at Alkmaar. 
 
 Tesselschade was now thirty years of age, 
 and had lost none of the extraordinary beauty 
 of early youth. Deep golden hair, of which
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 each tiny thread seemed just the string for 
 Cupid's bow ; large dark eyes, darting rays of 
 love, and deep with infinitudes of tenderness ; 
 a low but broad, smooth forehead of marble 
 whiteness ; an exquisite mouth ; a decided chin 
 that spoke of a will reserved ; a chiselled nose 
 with delicate, sensuous nostrils — these were the 
 most striking features of a face that was as 
 remarkable for its earnest and captivating ex- 
 pression as for its great beauty and radiant 
 intelligence. Add to this a glowing complexion 
 of wonderful purity, and a slender but sym- 
 metrically-shaped figure, and you have a picture 
 of the most beautiful and talented woman of 
 her generation. 
 
 All the poets honored the bride with their 
 choicest verses. Elevated as was Vondel's 
 epithalamium, sweet and graceful as was 
 Hooft's, agreeable as were the many other 
 poems that the occasion inspired, the young 
 Constantine Huyghens wrote a eulogy in a 
 tender and delicious strain that surpassed them 
 all. 
 
 At Alkmaar the happy couple had an ideal 
 home, exquisitely furnished with pictures and 
 embroidery done by the skilful hands of Tes- 
 selschade herself. Here, with art and music, in 
 the midst of the amenities of domestic life, she 
 lived many happy years. 
 
 73
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 Tesselschade, however, did not give up her 
 passion for poetry. She continued her rela- 
 tions with the charming circle of her admirers, 
 and corresponded with Hooft in Italian. 
 
 Even before her marriage she had begun 
 translating the " Gerusalemme Liberata " of 
 Tasso ; and now, with the aid of Hooft, the best 
 Italian scholar in the Netherlands, she contin- 
 ued this absorbing work. This version was 
 never printed, and has, unfortunately, been 
 lost. 
 
 In 1622 her sister Anna, the friend and cor- 
 respondent of Rubens, visited Middelburg, the 
 capital of Zealand, where she met the shining 
 lights of the School of Dort, as the didactic 
 writers of the day were called. At the head of 
 these was the celebrated Father Cats — the poet 
 of the commonplace — the most popular, though 
 by no means the greatest, poet of the Nether- 
 lands. Simon van Beaumont, the governor, a 
 lyrist of some talent ; Joanna Coomans, called 
 the " Pearl of Zealand ;" and Jacob Westerbaen 
 also gave her sweet welcome. 
 
 Attentions were showered on the honored 
 guest, and her visit gave occasion to that well- 
 known collection of lyrics entitled " The Zea- 
 land Nightingale," which was dedicated to her. 
 Upon her return from Zealand, Anna was also 
 married, and from this time forth she slowly 
 
 74
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 ceased her literary relations with the School of 
 Amsterdam, and now gave herself entirely up 
 to domestic duties. 
 
 Not so Tesselschade, Her imagination was 
 too intense, her conceptions too vivid, to find 
 any attraction in the realistic didacticism of 
 the Catsian circle. Her muse was not to be re- 
 strained by household cares. Her friendship 
 with Hooft and Vondel remained unbroken ; 
 and we shall have occasion to meet her again. 
 
 Since his " Palamedes," Vondel, overwhelmed 
 with his strange depression, had written but 
 little. In 1630 he burst into a blaze of satire 
 that swept the country like a whirlwind of 
 flame. His poems of this year were entitled 
 Haec Libertatis Ergo, and were of unsparing 
 severity. " The evils of the time," said the poet, 
 " are too deep-seated to be eradicated by a poul- 
 tice of honey." Like Juvenal and Persius, he 
 did not spare the knife, although he knew that 
 every thrust only made his enemies more bitter 
 and his own position more uncomfortable. His 
 absolute fearlessness was the theme of admira- 
 tion, ijot only among his friends, but even 
 among his enemies. The higher the person, 
 the stronger his invective ; the more powerful 
 the object of his dislike, the more cutting the 
 edge of his sarcasm. 
 
 Never was satire so crushing and at the same 
 
 75
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 time so keen ; never mockery so unanswerable, 
 polemic so overwhelming. 
 
 A Titan had thrown mountains of irony upon 
 the heads of a thick-skulled generation of vipers. 
 Their discomfiture was so complete that not even 
 a hiss broke from the silence of their annihila- 
 tion. The whited sepulchres of the sovereign 
 hypocrites of the Republic now stood black as 
 night in the face of noon. 
 
 Though a fiery patriot and an enthusiastic 
 adherent of the House of Orange, Vondel 
 received but little favor at the hands of Fred- 
 eric Henry. This was probably due to the 
 poet's unpopularity with the clergy, and to the 
 hatred that he had excited among the Church 
 party in power — the uncompromising Contra- 
 Remonstrants, whose enmity the Stadholder 
 would doubtless have incurred by an open 
 friendship with a man whose avowed determina- 
 tion it was to accomplish their downfall. 
 
 About this time occurred the death of Wil- 
 liam van den Vondel, a younger brother of the 
 poet, whom he loved most tenderly. This youth 
 had been educated in France and Italy, and 
 possessed extraordinary gifts and many accom- 
 plishments. He had also written some poems 
 of great promise, but was now cut off in the 
 flower of his youth by an insidious malady 
 that he had brought with him from Italy, a 
 
 70
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 sickness thought by many to have been due to 
 poison. 
 
 The poet never ceased to mourn this idoHzed 
 brother, and almost half a century later he was 
 heard to say : " I could cry when I think of my 
 brother. He was much my superior." 
 
 In the same year Vondel made a journey to 
 Denmark in the interest of his business. Upon 
 his return journey he was the guest of Sir 
 Jacob van Dyk, the minister from the Court of 
 Sweden to The Hague. 
 
 At Van Dyk's country seat in Gottenburg he 
 wrote a poem in honor of Gustavus Adolphus. 
 This production is chiefly remarkable as fore- 
 shadowing several important political events. 
 He prophesied that the great Swede would 
 attack the Emperor of Rome, tread upon the 
 neck of Austria, and bring the Eternal City 
 itself into a panic of fright — all of which hap- 
 pened within four years. He was, however, 
 silent as to the fate of the King, and said noth- 
 ing about his tragic death in the hour of victory. 
 
 So we here, also, see Vondel in the capacity of 
 the classic vates and of the Hebrew seer. Be- 
 fore his piercing ken even the time to come de- 
 livered up its hoarded secrets. The past, the 
 present, and the future were the provinces of 
 the grand empire reigned over by his kingly 
 spirit. 
 
 77
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 THE " MUIDER KRING. 
 
 The old Chamber of the Eglantine had now 
 fallen into a decline. Many of its choicest 
 spirits had gone over to Coster's Academy ; the 
 others, Vondel and his friends, as has already 
 been related, were accustomed to meet for 
 mutual help and criticism at the hospitable 
 home of the Visschers. 
 
 After this charming home was broken up, the 
 literary centre of the Amsterdam School was 
 changed to the Castle of Muiden, a few miles 
 from the metropolis. 
 
 At the Visschers' the budding talent of the 
 country had been carefully nurtured and placed 
 in the warm sunlight of a mutual and invigor- 
 ating sympathy ; at Muiden, however, it was 
 seen in its full flower. 
 
 It was here that the literary genius of the 
 Netherlands reached its highest efflorescence ; 
 nor has it ever again reached the sublime stand- 
 ard of those golden days. 
 
 Soon after being appointed Judge of Muiden, 
 Hooft had rebuilt the old castle ; and now it 
 stood, a romantic structure, crowned with tur- 
 rets and towers. It was picturesquely situated 
 on an island in the centre of a small lake. A 
 feudal drawbridge connected it with the out- ( 
 
 78
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 side world, and it was embowered in lofty 
 trees and surrounded by gardens and orchards. 
 
 There is no more charming picture in litera- 
 ture than that of the aristocratic host of Mui- 
 den, with his handsome, intelligent face and 
 his elegant manners, in the midst of his guests, 
 the genius and the flower of the Netherlands — a 
 scene rendered still more interesting by the 
 presence of talented and beautiful women. 
 
 Here, beneath the shade of the spreading lin- 
 dens and the noble beeches, they would lighten 
 the heavy summer hours by games and conver- 
 sation, and by the discussion of affairs of state. 
 
 Or, perhaps, too, they would listen to the 
 classic muse of the learned Barlaeus, or to the 
 dramatic recitations of Daniel Mostert ; or, 
 occasionally, — 1 inestimable privilege! — they 
 would be thrilled by the powerful verses of the 
 sublime Vondel, destined to become the great- 
 est poet of his country. Here, also, they were 
 often enchanted by the tender songs of the 
 beautiful Tesselschade, the Dutch Nightingale, 
 richly warbling her own deep notes, while her 
 nimble fingers swept the guitar ; or, perhaps, 
 singing to the accompaniment of the celebrated 
 Zweling, the first great composer of the Neth- 
 erlands. Or it may be that another sweet 
 singer, Francesca Duarte, would sometimes add 
 her mellow tones to those delightful strains, 
 
 79
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 while the distinguished company applauded 
 with eloquent silence. 
 
 Here, too, before her apostasy to the Dort 
 School, came the gentle Anna Visscher to read 
 her noble rimes ; while often, also, Vossius, the 
 first Latinist of his age, and Laurens Reael, the 
 renowned statesman, soldier, and erotic poet, 
 would lend the dignity of their presence. Here, 
 furthermore, came the young Huyghens, the 
 most versatile of a v^ersatile race, and one of 
 the most celebrated wits and poets of his day. 
 
 The "Muider Kring " (the Muiden circle), 
 as this salon is known in the literary history 
 of the Netherlands, is yet the proudest boast 
 and the perennial glory of Holland ; for this 
 was the Elizabethan era of Dutch literature. 
 Hooft, as the social centre of a literary con- 
 stellation, exerted, perhaps, even more influence 
 upon his age by his magnetic personality than 
 by his remarkable writings. 
 
 STRUGGLE AND ACHIEVEMENT. 
 
 It was amid such congenial surroundings that 
 the genius of Vondel grew to maturity. 
 
 Soon after the satires of 1630, he translated ' 
 
 Seneca's " Hippolytus," which he dedicated to 
 Grotius. Grotius was still in exile, and the > 
 
 publisher of this translation, fearing the dis- , 
 
 80 \
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 pleasure of the authorities, tore the dedication 
 leaf out of every copy. 
 
 Vondel's next effort was the " Farmer's Cate- 
 chism," which was full of a rollicking humor 
 that, at the same time, was not without its 
 sting. Vossius, in his professional study at 
 Leiden, laughed heartily upon reading it, and 
 it occasioned much mirth among the Armini- 
 ans, or Remonstrants, everywhere. 
 
 Some satirical poems of the same period were 
 much keener, and unmercifully ridiculed the 
 blunders of the government, the general ex- 
 travagance, and the increase of avarice and 
 ostentation among the citizens. 
 
 Shortly after this came his " Decretum Hor- 
 ribile," a powerful polemic against the Calvin- 
 istic doctrine of election and predestination as 
 interpreted by the Gomarists. This savage at- 
 tack on their belief filled the Ultra-Calvinists 
 with rage, and caused the name of the poet to 
 be execrated as the personification of infamy. 
 
 Hear his fierce outburst against the great 
 Calvin himself : 
 
 "That monster dread that from a poison-chalice 
 Pours out the drug of hell in unctuous malice ; 
 And makes the gracious God a very fiend." 
 
 No wonder that in the eyes of these stern 
 followers of Calvin he was himself a very devil, 
 
 81
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 nor is it extravagant to say that he was hardly 
 less feared by them than his Satanic majesty 
 himself. 
 
 From every pulpit the Contra-Remonstrants 
 hurled anathemas at the offending poet. 
 
 Not one of their gatherings from which his 
 name did not rise to the throne of divine grace 
 in clouds of execration. Not a preacher of the 
 sect that did not call down the wrath of 
 Jehovah upon the head of the blasphemer who 
 had dared to mock the arrogant tenets of his 
 exclusive faith. 
 
 Vondel, however, did not pause in his path 
 one instant, answering their maledictions with 
 stinging satire, and their abuse with over- 
 whelming invective. 
 
 Yet it must not be thought that our poet 
 was forever forging thunderbolts of satire at 
 the blaze of his wrath. He also found time for 
 the amenities of life ; and thus we often find 
 him in the companionship of those distinguished 
 friends who contributed so much to his pleasure 
 and his growth. 
 
 About this period the moribund Chamber of 
 the Eglantine was merged into Coster's Acad- 
 emy, which now became the theatre of the 
 city. 
 
 Shortly afterwards Vondel wrote his verses ' 
 
 of welcome to Hugo Grotius upon his return i
 
 OF VONDEL, 
 
 from exile — verses full of severe condemnation 
 of the party that had banished him. Then fol- 
 lowed a song of triumph for the naval victories 
 over the Spaniards, and several satires against 
 the clergy, who were again fomenting restrictive 
 measures against the freedom of conscience. 
 All of these productions glowed with the fiei^ce 
 jealousy for personal liberty which had become 
 the poet's ruling passion ; for his verse ever gave 
 utterance to his dominant emotion. In his own 
 words: " I needs must sing the song that fills 
 my heart." 
 
 His " Funeral Sacrifice of Magdeburg" alone 
 was free from this contentious spirit. This was 
 a heroic poem in praise of Gustavus Adolphus, 
 the bulwark of Protestantism, and his splendid 
 victory over Tilly and Pappenheim at Leipsic — 
 that terrible vengeance for the fearful sacking 
 of Magdeburg! 
 
 In the beginning of 1632 the illustrious Athe- 
 neum of Amsterdam was opened with imposing 
 ceremonies, to which occasion Vondel contrib- 
 uted an excellent poem. 
 
 Not long afterwards, GrotiuSj on account of 
 his too open opposition to his old enemies, was 
 again banished from his fatherland. A price of 
 two thousand guldens was set on his head, 
 which gave Vondel cause for another trench- 
 ant pasquinade. He did not, however, dare 
 
 83
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 to publish this, for fear of calling upon himself 
 the same violence that his friend had escaped. 
 Grotius himself wrote Vondel a letter of thanks 
 for his interest in his behalf, adding that it 
 could do no possible good to publish the poem, 
 and that it would therefore be unwise for him 
 to put himself into danger. 
 
 An elegy on the death of Count Ernest Casi- 
 mir and an ode on the triumph of Maastricht 
 saw the light, however, and were much ad- 
 mired by all parties of his countrymen. 
 
 Vondel now began his great epic, " Constan- 
 tine." This poem had for its subject the jour- 
 ney of Constantine to Rome, and was intended ; 
 to be complete in twelve books, after the model 
 of Virgil's "^neid." The poet had for several 
 years been preparing himself for this immense i 
 undertaking by a thorough study, not only of ' 
 the great epics of antiquity, but also of those 
 of Tasso and Ariosto, 
 
 Besides reading the various Church Fathers 
 and the historians who had written on this j 
 
 period, he also entered into a correspondence ' 
 
 concerning the subject with Grotius, who was j 
 
 much pleased to hear of his plan and who also 
 gave him considerable information. , 
 
 While Vondel was busy with his epic, his j 
 
 wife bore him a son, whom, in honor of his I 
 
 hero, he named Constantine. The child died, 
 
 84
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 however, and not long afterwards the mother 
 also. This terrible affliction cast a gloom over 
 the life of the poet from which he never en- 
 tirely emerged. Full of pathos is his letter to 
 Grotius stating his loneliness, and adding that 
 all his interest in his epic had departed : " Since 
 the death of my sainted wife, I have lost heart ; 
 so that I shall have to give up my great ' Con- 
 stantine' for the present." 
 
 The poet was never able to resume this stu- 
 pendous work. It was too suggestive of memo- 
 ries of a happiness forever lost. After keeping 
 the manuscript by him for several years, with 
 the vain hope that his interest might be reani- 
 mated, he at last destroyed it. It was thus that 
 Dutch literature lost its greatest epic, a poem 
 which would doubtless have added to the 
 renown of the author, and reflected lustre upon 
 his country. 
 
 In 1635, Grotius, who was now the Swedish 
 Ambassador to France, published his Latin 
 tragedy, " Sophompaneas," of which Joseph was 
 the hero. Vondel, who was still in his shop in 
 the Warmoesstraat, having laid the " Constan- 
 tine " aside, and wishing to employ his leisure 
 time, made a Dutch rendering of this play, of 
 which the author wrote Vossius as follows : 
 
 " I understand that Vondel hath done me the 
 honor to put my ' Sophompaneas ' with his own 
 
 8s
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 hand, that is to say, in his artistic manner, into 
 our Holland tongue. I am under great obliga- 
 tions to him, because he, who is capable of so 
 much better things than I, hath now, in his 
 translation of my play, given his labor as a 
 proof of his friendship." 
 
 Vondel, in translating, often sought the 
 advice of his friends, saying, " Each judgment 
 views the matter in a different light ; and the 
 judgment of one is poor beside the opinions of 
 many." He also said that he found the work 
 of translating serviceable to gain a knowledge 
 of the technique, diction, thought, and peculi- 
 arity of an author. Moreover, he discovered 
 that it not only kindled his imagination, but that 
 it also suggested new thought, and was condu- 
 cive to his own improvement in language and 
 in form. For this reason he translated so 
 many of the classics, of which more will be said 
 at the proper time. 
 
 The Academy having become too small for 
 the public that now thronged to the theatre, 
 Dr. Coster sold the building to the regents of 
 the City's Orphan Asylum and of the Old 
 Men's Home. The managers of these chari- 
 table institutions, then, as an investment, built 
 a new theatre in its place. Here, twice a week, 
 plays were presented, with great profit to the 
 management. 
 
 86 

 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 The new theatre was completed in 1637, and 
 the first drama played on its stage was Vondel's 
 fine tragedy, " Gysbrecht van Amstel." This 
 play had as its subject the defeat of the old 
 hero, Sir Gysbrecht, and his banishment from 
 his native city, Amsterdam, soon after the death 
 of Floris V. 
 
 This historical event was supposed to have 
 occurred about Christmastide, and the drama 
 was accordingly presented on New Year's Eve. 
 The " Gysbrecht " is the most popular of all of 
 Vondel's plays, and it is interesting to note 
 that, from the night of its first presentation, 
 two hundred and fifty years ago, until the 
 present time, it has been presented every 
 New Year's Eve on the stage of the theatre of 
 Amsterdam. 
 
 Some of the situations in this drama are based 
 upon various episodes in Virgil's " yEneid." 
 One of the characters, also, is made to prophesy 
 the future glory of the city; which, moreover, 
 may easily be interpreted as prophetic of the 
 grandeur of the greater " New Amsterdam " 
 beyond the sea, a circumstance that should give 
 it additional interest to Americans. The " Gys- 
 brecht " was dedicated to Grotius, who acknowl- 
 edged the honor as follows: 
 
 " Sir: I hold myself much beholden to you 
 for your courtesy and your great kindness to 
 
 87
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 me ; for you, almost alone — at least there are 
 but few besides you— in the Netherlands, seek 
 to relieve my gloom and to reward my unre- 
 warded services. I have always held your 
 talents and your works in the highest esteem." 
 
 He then goes on to speak of the charming 
 proportions of the play, and of the " verses, 
 pithy, tender, heart-melting, and flowing." 
 Then he continues: " The 'CEdipus Coloneus' 
 of Sophocles and the ' Supplicants ' of Euripi- 
 des have not honored Athens more than thou 
 hast Amsterdam." 
 
 To Vossius, at Leiden, Grotius also wrote in 
 a no less complimentary strain concerning this 
 production. 
 
 We had the privilege of seeing this drama on 
 the stage in Amsterdam one New Year's Eve a 
 couple of years ago, and we confess that it was 
 not until we heard the magnificent recitative of 
 the superb Bouwmeester, the great tragedian of 
 Holland, in this beautiful play, that we fully 
 appreciated the grandeur and the sublimity of 
 Vondel, and the power and the sweetness of 
 the Dutch language. 
 
 Part of the Roman ceremonial, with its splen- 
 did ritual, is introduced into one of the scenes 
 of the " Gysbrecht ; " and this has been taken as^ 
 foreshadowing Vondel's conversion to Catholi- 
 cism. Naturally this gave offence to many of 
 
 83
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 the bigots among the Calvinists, who saw in it 
 only the glorification of popery. 
 
 Vondel then wrote a tragedy, " Messalina," 
 which, however^ he destroyed because some of 
 the actors, while rehearsing their parts, through 
 some adventitious remark of the poet, had in- 
 ferred that the play possessed a certain politi- 
 cal significance, and that it was an allegory 
 picturing forth some of the notables of the day, 
 after the manner of the " Palamedes." 
 
 The poet fearing that it might breed mis- 
 chief, and seeing that it was impossible to rec- 
 tify the matter, since it had already become 
 a subject of conversation among the actors, 
 begged the parts of the three leading rdles, 
 pretending that he wished to make some im- 
 portant corrections. Having obtained posses- 
 sion of these parts, he took good care to burn 
 them, thus preventing the presentation of the 
 play, and putting a stop to the silly chatter of 
 the players. 
 
 ROME ! 
 
 His next undertaking was the translation of 
 the " Electra " of Sophocles, being aided in the 
 work by Isaac Vossius, a son of the celebrated 
 Leyden professor, who was himself also a pro- 
 found scholar. As was usual with this poet, 
 the translation of this tragedy was followed by
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 one of his own, the drama of " The Virgins ; 
 or, Saint Ursula." This he dedicated to the 
 city of his birth, Cologne ; where, the legend 
 says, a British princess, with eleven thousand 
 other maidens, at the command of Attila, the 
 ferocious Hun, suffered a martyr's death. This 
 tragedy also received the praises of Grotius ; 
 and it may safely be said that no man of his 
 time, with the possible exception of John Mil- 
 ton, was so capable of judging according to the 
 rigid rules of the antique as Grotius. For be- 
 sides being the most learned man of his age, 
 an accomplished Grecian, and an unsurpassed 
 Latinist, he was himself a poet of no mean 
 order. 
 
 " The Virgins," notwithstanding its beauty 
 and tenderness, was the cause of much sorrow 
 to the friends of Vondel, in that it unmistak- 
 ably showed the poet's inclination towards 
 Romanism. 
 
 True, as has been narrated, this had for some 
 years been suspected from the tone of several 
 other productions that preceded it ; but then it 
 was only a suspicion, now there was no longer 
 a doubt. 
 
 Vondel was plainly on the high road to 
 Rome, and it was whispered that he, having 
 become tired of his loneliness, had been at- 
 tracted by a certain Catholic widow, whose 
 
 90
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 seductive charms were largely responsible for 
 his wavering faith. 
 
 The widow here referred to is supposed to 
 have been the fair Tesselschade, the friend of 
 his youth, who, after ten years of wedded bliss, 
 had at one stroke been deprived of both her 
 eldest child and her husband, and was now liv- 
 ing with her one remaining child, a daughter, 
 in resigned widowhood at Alkmaar. We are 
 now again to see this remarkable woman as the 
 inspirer of the muse of Holland. 
 
 Barlaeus in his "Tessalica" wooed her in 
 elegant Latin ; and Vondel dedicated to her his 
 translation of the " Electra " of Sophocles, and 
 also his next Biblical tragedy, " Peter and 
 Paul," which was even more decided in its 
 Romanism than its predecessor. 
 
 Tesselschade, however, preferred her black 
 widow's weeds to the white raiment of a bride, 
 and continued in her retirement, alone with the 
 memory of her happy past. Her spirit shone 
 only the brighter in its progress through the 
 valley of tribulation to the heights of resigna- 
 tion. She had been chastened by affliction and 
 saddened by sorrow, yet she did not lose heart, 
 but still enjoyed the society of her friends. 
 She still took an admirable part in the drama 
 of life. 
 
 In 1639, the French Queen Dowager, Maria 
 
 91
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 de' Medici, paid a short visit to Amsterdam. 
 Tesselschade not only sang a song before her, 
 but also presented her with an Italian poem of 
 her own composition. She had finished her 
 version of the " Gerusalemme," and was now 
 busy translating the " Adonis " of Marini. 
 
 The young poets Vos and Brandt, the poetess 
 Alida Bruno, and others of the rising literati, 
 sought her friendship. Tesselschade was still 
 the Queen when the Muses went a-maying, and 
 her sovereignty remained undisputed until the 
 day of her death. 
 
 In 1640 appeared Vondel's Biblical tragedy, 
 the " Brothers," which was thought by the 
 critics to surpass all that had preceded it. It was 
 dedicated to Vossius, whose comment upon read- 
 ing it was, Scribis cBternitati. Grotius wrote 
 the poet a letter, and was also loud in his praises, 
 comparing it with the most famous tragedies of 
 antiquity, adding significantly, " and do not for- 
 get your great epic, ' Constantine.' " By others 
 this drama was thought to combine the tender- 
 ness of Euripides with the sublimity of Sopho- 
 cles. 
 
 In the same year, also, followed two more 
 Biblical tragedies, "Joseph in Dothan " and 
 " Joseph in Egypt," which also occasioned much 
 remark, and were not inferior to the best plays 
 that had gone before. 
 
 92
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 Vondel was now universally acknowledged to 
 be the greatest poet of the time. The ascent 
 of Parnassus, however, is not as easy as the 
 dccensHS Averni. By years of study, constant 
 watchfulness, and perpetual striving for self- 
 improvement, and a prayerful devotion to his 
 art — thus alone did he attain the summit of 
 such achievement. 
 
 In him was seen purity of diction, clearness 
 and terseness of expression, power of logic, 
 richness and agreeableness of invention, and a 
 style that was at once mellifluous and sublime. 
 
 The tragedy, " Peter and Paul," to whose 
 open Romanism reference has already been 
 made, was his next effort, and was soon followed 
 by the " Epistles of the Holy Virgin Martyrs," 
 which were twelve in number, and were dedi- 
 cated to the Holy Virgin Mary, whom he called 
 "the Queen of Heaven," and named as Media- 
 tor with her divine Son. This was a sufificient 
 acknowledgment of his conversion to the Cath- 
 olic faith to alienate many of his warmest 
 friends. This, however, though it must have 
 brought much grief to his sensitive heart, did 
 not cause him to regret having made a step that 
 he had so long been meditating. 
 
 Before beginning these " Epistles," Vondel 
 had translated many of the epistles of Ovid 
 that he might absorb the grace and the spirit 
 
 93
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 of Ovid's epistolary style. His own effort was 
 deemed not less graceful and spirited. Their 
 literary merit, however, did not, in the estima- 
 tion of his Protestant friends, compensate for 
 their justification of popery. 
 
 Even Hooft, Vondel's life-long friend and 
 brother in art, grew cold ; and we find the fol- 
 lowing reference to this in one of the poet's let- 
 ters to the Judge of Muiden. Vondel writes: 
 " I wish Cornelius Tacitus a happy and a blessed 
 New Year; and although he forbids me a harm- 
 less Ave Maria at his heretical table, yet I shall 
 nevertheless occasionally read another Ave 
 Maria for him that he may die as devout a 
 Catholic as he now shows himself an ardent par- 
 tisan." Their friendship was yet further broken 
 by other circumstances which had their origin 
 in the first cause of separation. 
 
 In 1645, Vondel wrote a lyric poem on a 
 miracle which the Catholics taught had oc- 
 curred at Amsterdam about the middle of the 
 fourteenth century. This was too much for his 
 Protestant friends, and he became the subject of 
 innumerable lame lampoons and petty pasqui- 
 nades, in which his espousal of the Catholic 
 legend was coarsely ridiculed. 
 
 Hooft, in a letter to Professor Barlaeus, also 
 expressed his opinion in the following words : 
 " Vondel seems to grow tired of nothing sooner 
 
 94 

 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 than of rest. It seems he must have saved up 
 three hundred guldens more, which are causing 
 him a good deal of embarrassment. And I do 
 not know but that it might cost him even much 
 dearer than this ; for some hot-head might be 
 tempted prematurely to lay violent hands upon 
 him, thinking that not even a cock would crow 
 his regret." 
 
 These productions, however, were only the 
 prelude to a greater work that was to follow — 
 his " Mysteries of the Altar," which was pub- 
 lished in the autumn of 1645, 
 
 This poem was a glorification of the Mass, 
 and was divided into three books. Vondel, in 
 writing this able work, was assisted by the 
 counsel of the most learned and the most pro- 
 found men in the Catholic Church. The doc- 
 trines of Thomas Aquinas and other celebrated 
 schoolmen, and the teachings of the best mod- 
 ern authorities were here poetically combined, 
 and the poet was hailed on every side as the 
 ablest defender of the tenets of the Church of 
 Rome. 
 
 This poem provoked a celebrated reply by 
 Jacob Westerbaen, one of the most noted of 
 the School of Dort, who, while praising the art 
 of the new champion of Catholicism, at the same 
 time attacked his doctrinal position with such 
 piercing analysis and with so great display of 
 
 95
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 theological dogma, that, in the opinion of the 
 Protestants, Vondel was ingloriously van- 
 quished. The Catholics, of course, thought 
 differently. 
 
 Jacob, Archbishop of Mechlin, to whom 
 Vondel's poem was dedicated, sent the author a 
 painting with which Vondel was at first greatly 
 pleased. Learning, however, that it was only a 
 bad copy, he gave it away to his sister, no longer 
 wishing to have such a poor reward for so great 
 an undertaking before his eyes. 
 
 A prose translation of the works of Virgil was 
 the next thing that this indefatigable worker 
 essayed. This version received the commenda- 
 tion of most of his contemporaries, Barlaeus, 
 indeed, found fault with it, saying that it was 
 without life and marrow ; adding, cynically, that 
 Augustus would surely not have withheld this 
 Maro from the flames. But, then, Barlaeus was 
 such a thorough Latinist that his own language 
 seemed foreign to him. He would have had 
 the translator preserve the peculiarities of the 
 Latin at the expense of his native tongue. 
 And, then, was he not also Vondel's rival for the 
 hand of Tesselschade ? Praise from him surely 
 was not to be expected. The universal opinion 
 was that it was a difficult work excellently done. 
 This translation was also the forerunner of a 
 drama. " Maria Stuart " was the name of the 
 
 96
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 tragedy which the bard now offered for the 
 perusal of his countrymen. 
 
 The poet represented the unhappy Queen of 
 Scots as perfect and without stain, while her 
 victorious rival Elizabeth was painted in infer- 
 nal black. 
 
 This subject naturally gave the proselyte oc- 
 casion to display his burning zeal for Rome; 
 and upon the publication of the play a great 
 outcry was raised against both drama and 
 author. Some of Vondel's enemies, indeed, 
 were so incensed, and raised such a commotion, 
 that the poet was brought before the city tribu- 
 nal, and fined one hundred and eighty guldens; 
 "which," says Brandt, Vondel's biographer, 
 " seemed indeed strange to many, seeing what 
 freedom in writing was allowed at this time, and 
 because, also, even to the poets of antiquity more 
 was permitted than to most others," Abraham 
 de Wees, Vondel's publisher, however, paid the 
 fine, being unwilling that the poet should suffer 
 by that which brought him profit. 
 
 Hugo Grotius was now dead, but shortly 
 before his decease he had written several pam- 
 phlets whose object it was to effect some rec- 
 onciliation between Catholic and Protestant. 
 Vondel now translated those portions of these 
 favorable to the papacy, combining them in a 
 polemic called " Grotius' Testament." Where- 
 
 97
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 upon many said that he had now gone too far in 
 his zeal for his adopted church ; for it was claimed 
 that upon the statements of Grotius he often 
 put a construction not favored by the context. 
 It was even insinuated by some that he had not 
 acted in good faith. 
 
 Brandt himself made this intimation in a 
 preface written by him to an edition of Vondel's 
 collected works which was published in the 
 year 1647. Brandt was then yet a mere youth, 
 and was rankling with the memory of a severe 
 and unjust reprimand that the older poet some 
 time before had given him. He therefore ac- 
 knowledges in his naive biography that he 
 eagerly welcomed this opportunity to be re- 
 venged upon the distinguished offender, and 
 accordingly made this dose of his gall as bitter 
 as possible. The poet felt the insinuation 
 keenly, and for a long time suspected Peter de 
 Groot, the son of the great lawyer, as the perpe- 
 trator of the offending paragraph. Many years 
 afterwards, however, the smart of the wound 
 having departed, the real culprit confessed his 
 sin to the then aged poet, and obtained the 
 asked for absolution. 
 
 It was in 1641 that Vondel openly embraced 
 the Catholic faith, though his tendency in that 
 direction had been apparent in his poems many 
 years before. We have already referred to the 
 
 y8 
 
 I 
 
 i
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 report that his love for a beautiful and wealthy 
 widow, Tesselschade, had been the main instru- 
 ment in drawing him from his Protestant moor- 
 ings, and this was doubtless to some extent true. 
 And yet it is almost certain that Vondel would 
 have embraced the cause of Rome even without 
 the alluring wiles of this fair enchantress. 
 
 Many of his relatives, including his brother 
 William, belonged to that faith. Many of his 
 dearest friends also were of that denomination. 
 His daughter Anna, furthermore, had not only 
 entered that church, but had also taken the 
 veil. Moreover, he had long been drifting away 
 from the creed of his early childhood, the Ana- 
 baptism of his parents. The severe pietism of 
 that belief had never strongly appealed to him. 
 True, he had espoused the cause of the Armini- 
 ans, as against their enemies the Gomarists ; 
 but it was only because they were the under 
 side, and because their cause was also the cause 
 of civil liberty, that he had entered the lists 
 with them. 
 
 The perpetual discord, the disunion, the bick- 
 erings, the bitterness, and the persecutions 
 among the different Protestant sects of the 
 period were exceedingly repulsive to him. He 
 did not forget that under the banner of Protest- 
 antism his country had triumphed over the 
 common foe. He did not forget that Calvin 
 
 99
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 had been the herald of science and the apostle 
 of liberty. He did not fail to remember the 
 glories of the past. But the contemplation of 
 that proud past only increased his abhorrence 
 of the petty present. 
 
 Calvinism had indeed done much for Hol- 
 land ; but the inevitable reaction had come, and 
 its excesses could not be justified. Calvinism 
 had come to mean dogma ; and dogma had no 
 attraction for his poetic mind. Calvinism had 
 become the foe of freedom ; and freedom was 
 the very breath of this flaming patriot. Calvin- 
 ism had shown itself an enemy of the arts, of 
 poetry, and of the drama ; and these were as the 
 very soul of Vondel. 
 
 How could he know that this was only a fleet- 
 ing gloom, from which the sun of Calvinism 
 would again emerge, radiant with all of its 
 original glory? He was weary — weary of the 
 discord, and longed for peace. 
 
 Is it to be wondered at that the poet gradu- 
 ally drifted, even as Cardinal Newman, into a 
 haven that promised such longed-for rest? Is 
 it surprising that he who had so long been 
 chilled by the cold formalism and the frigid 
 austerity of the dogma of the North should 
 now find it agreeable to thaw out his soul in 
 the glow of the religion of the South ? Then, 
 too, the beauty of the Catholic ritual, the pomp,
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 the grand processional, the holy days, the glori- 
 ous music, the noble symmetry of the Roman 
 architecture, the awe-inspiring antiquity of the 
 Church, the magnificence of its domain, the 
 splendor of its organization, allured the imag- 
 ination of the poet with irresistible power ; 
 and his reason followed, a not unwilling captive. 
 
 Nor was it the hasty choice of a regretted im- 
 pulse. Everything tends to show— we have 
 traced the gradual growth in his poems — that 
 it was a long-contemplated step from which, 
 once taken, nothing should ever be able to re- 
 move him. It is, therefore, in Vondel that we 
 find one of the most able and ardent champions 
 the Church of Rome has ever had. No saint 
 ever more truly deserved canonization than this 
 high priest of Apollo, flaming with zeal for 
 his adopted faith. 
 
 Vondel was a crusader born five hundred 
 years too late — a crusader, too, a lion-hearted 
 defender of the Cross, most of whose battles 
 were fought beneath the brow of Mount Zion 
 and within the very gates of Jerusalem. 
 
 Few crusaders, indeed, had fought so long 
 and so well ; few had won so many victories, 
 had slain so many enemies, as this indomitable 
 hero of Amsterdam. 
 
 Though bitterly opposed to the Contra- 
 Remonstrants, he, however, helped them in de-
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 crying the growing spirit of ostentation and the 
 vices of the day. And although he openly sided 
 with the Remonstrants, he never joined them. 
 But as a flower turns its head to the sun, so 
 he, too, gradually turned towards the old belief. 
 
 At this period, when Protestants were in turn 
 persecuting heretics and, reveling in their sud- 
 den freedom, were indulging in all sorts of fan- 
 atical excesses, Catholicism, purified, began to 
 live again. Furthermore, to the poetic tempera- 
 ment of the poet and his stern sense of justice, 
 the bigotry of the Gomarists seemed no less 
 odious than the more open persecutions of the 
 Catholics of the preceding age. 
 
 It was thus that Vondel, long tossed upon a 
 sea of doubt, sought anchorage in a harbor where 
 winds were calm. It was thus that this great man 
 was led to take a step which called down upon 
 him for many years hate, aversion, and ridicule. 
 
 But in spite of all this he remained true to his 
 new faith, and became a fervid Catholic ; one 
 ever consistent and true to his adopted church. 
 Here he could remain undisturbed in his rev- 
 erence for antiquity, in his worship of beauty, 
 and in his love for poetry and art. Here there 
 was ever a labyrinth of mystery for his aspiring 
 soul to explore. Here the plan of salvation 
 was not reduced to the bare expression of a 
 logical formula.
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 UPWARD AND ONWARD. 
 
 But we must again make brief reference to the 
 friends of our poet, who one by one preceded 
 him to the grave. First Reael died. Then 
 Hooft and Barlseus soon followed, and were 
 both buried in the New Church at Amsterdam. 
 Above the tomb of each Vondel wrote a short 
 epitaph. But the keenest loss was yet to come. 
 In 1649 Holland lost the brightest jewel in the 
 crown of her womanhood, and Vondel, his 
 dearest friend. Tesselschade, after many sor- 
 rows, entered peacefully into rest. 
 
 A few years before she had had the misfortune 
 to lose her left eye from a spark that flew out 
 of a smithy as she passed. She bore this sad ac- 
 cident with cheerfulness ; but a greater calam- 
 ity yet awaited her. The pride of her heart, her 
 one remaining child, her beautiful daughter Tes- 
 selschade, was suddenly cut off in the bloom 
 of maidenhood. The disconsolate mother 
 struggled in vain against this terrible sorrow. 
 A year later she followed her loved ones to the 
 tomb. She, also, was laid away in the New 
 Church, by the side of the dead Titans of her 
 generation who had so often made her the 
 theme of their inspired song ; where, too, 
 Vondel himself, the greatest of them all, was 
 eventually to lie. 
 
 103
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 For Vondel's beautiful threnody we have 
 unfortunately no space, but shall content our- 
 selves with quoting the first strophe of Huy- 
 ghens' touching elegy : 
 
 " Here Tesselschade lies. 
 Let no one rashly dare 
 
 To give the measure of her worth beyond compare; 
 Her glory, like the sun's, the poet's pen defies." 
 
 Shortly after the death of his dear friend, 
 Vondel gave up his hosiery shop in the War- 
 moesstraat to his son, while he himself went to 
 live with his daughter Anna on the Cingel, on 
 the outskirts of the city. The poet was now 
 sixty-two years of age, and he doubtless thought 
 to end his days in peace and studious retire- 
 ment. But the battle of life for him had only 
 just begun. He was never to know the mean- 
 ing of rest. 
 
 About this time Vondel again had occasion 
 for his tremendous invective. We refer to his 
 remarkable series of satires against the anti- 
 royalists of Great Britain. 
 
 His odes on "The Regicides of England," 
 " Charles Stuart's Murdered Majesty," " Pro- 
 tector Werewolf" (Cromwell), "The Flag of 
 Scotland," and many other poems on the same 
 subject, breathe the very spirit of war, and glow 
 with the same intense indignation and righteous 
 
 104
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 wrath that characterize the productions of John 
 Milton on the other side. These fierce polemics, 
 winged with rime, were very popular in Hol- 
 land, where the cause of the royalists was 
 favored. 
 
 But it was the Catholic, no less than the roy- 
 alist, who spoke in these seething satires. That 
 Vondel the republican should assume such a 
 fierce attitude against the would-be republicans 
 of England can only be explained by his fear 
 that in England, even as in Holland, canting 
 bigotry would now usurp the altars of religion, 
 and there, with unholy zeal, sacrifice the soul 
 of art and the spirit of liberty. 
 
 Or was it an intuitive dread of a republican 
 and Puritan England that made the Hollander 
 seize these firebrands from his kindling wrath ? 
 It may be, for the Commonwealth was not at all 
 friendly towards her sister republic, and ere 
 long the Protector dealt the naval supremacy 
 of the Dutch a blow from which they never 
 recovered. 
 
 In 1648 Vondel celebrated the Treaty of 
 Munster by his " Leeuwendalers," a pastoral 
 drama in the style of Guarini's " Pastor Fido ;" 
 and more charming pastoral surely never was 
 written, with not one note of strife, not one 
 strident trumpet blast, to jar upon its harmony. 
 
 The " Leeuwendalers " is a fitting monument 
 
 105
 
 I 
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 to the heroism of the patriots whose magnifi- 
 cent struggle of eighty-four years against the 
 overwhelming tyranny of Spain had at last been 
 rewarded by this glorious peace. 
 
 Not long afterwards, he wrote his excellent 
 epitaph on that brave old sea-dog, Martin 
 Tromp. Save among the clergy, Vondel's Ro- I 
 
 manism seemed now no longer to cause much 
 comment. 
 
 The tragedy of " Solomon," Vondel's following 
 drama, was remarkable for its opulence. At 
 this time, also, his fiery denunciation of the 
 Stadtholder William II. and his party for their 
 attack upon, and their unsuccessful attempt 
 against, the ancient privileges of Amsterdam 
 did much to reestablish him in the good graces 
 of his fellow citizens. 
 
 THE SUMMIT. 
 
 On October 20, 1653, one hundred leading 
 painters, poets, architects, and sculptors of the 
 city of Amsterdam, known as the Guild of St. 
 Luke, assembled in the hall of the Order for their 
 anniversary celebration. This was the historic 
 Feast of St. Luke, and Vondel was the honored 
 guest of the occasion. 
 
 The poet was placed at one end of the table, 
 on a high chair, which was to represent a throne. 
 
 106 
 
 (
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 Here he was crowned with laurel as the " Sympo- 
 siarch," or " King of the Feast," it is said, by 
 the great painter Bartholomew van der Heist. 
 Thus Apollo and Apelles were happily united 
 in the bond of a common sj^mpathy, and all 
 petty dissensions were forgotten in the triumph 
 of art. Poems were read, toasts were made ; 
 the ceremonies, as is usual at all the feasts of 
 the Hollanders, closing with their national 
 anthem — " the grand Wilhelmus " — the most af- 
 fecting and sublime of all national odes, calling 
 up, as it does, memories of a hundred years of 
 martyrdom and of the heroic founder of the 
 Republic. 
 
 It was the proudest moment of the poet's 
 life ; and we can imagine the depth of his emo- 
 tion as the glorious laurel graced his battle- 
 furrowed brow. Perhaps, too, the romantic 
 face of Rembrandt was near by, drinking in with 
 his thirsty eyes the picturesque beauty of the 
 scene, unconscious of the crown which fickle 
 destiny had reserved for him. Or it may be 
 that the thoughtful youth Spinoza, silent and 
 abstemious, found there some theme for his 
 revolutionary philosophy. 
 
 Yet Vondel was king of them all ; crowned 
 with a kingship won by prodigies of valor on 
 the battle-field of life. Every leaf in that laurel 
 wreath was purchased by a thorn. But who 
 
 107
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 thinks of the sharpness of the thorn when ca- [ 
 
 ressed by the velvet of the leaf ? 
 
 So Vondel, in that moment of triumph, forgot j 
 
 his sorrows in his cup of joy, as he drained the . 
 
 sweet present to the dregs,/ I 
 
 In return for the honor it had done him, 
 Vondel dedicated his prose translation of the I 
 
 Odes of Horace to the hospitable Guild. He 
 was now sixty-six years old, and was yet in the 
 possession of every bodily and mental power. 
 He was now to give forth his masterpiece — a work 
 for which his whole life had been a constant 
 preparation. We come to the " Lucifer." 
 
 This tragedy appeared in 1654 and was the 
 monumental creation of this combatant poet, 
 the crystallization of the Titanic passions of 
 the age. It has, therefore, a significance that 
 can never fade. 
 
 On account of the character of the play, 
 which naturally treats of holy subject matter, 
 the clergy at once gave it the benefit of their 
 most strenuous opposition, saying that it was 
 full of " unholy, unchaste, idolatrous, false, and 
 utterly depraved things." 
 
 Through their meddlesome interference, the 
 " Lucifer," after it had twice been presented on 
 the stage, was interdicted. 
 
 As a matter of course this caused it to be the 
 subject of much comment, and the first edition 
 
 108
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 of one thousand was sold in a week. Petrus 
 Wittewrongel, a native of Zealand, was the 
 most conspicuous among the opponents of this 
 play. His opposition, however, extended to 
 the drama in general, making it the theme of 
 every sermon. According to this Dutch Puri- 
 tan, the theatre was " a school of idleness, a 
 mount of idolatry, a relic of paganism, leading 
 to sin, godlessness, impurity, and frivolity ; a 
 mere waste of time." This bittter attack on 
 his beloved art gave the occasion for Vondel's 
 famous vindication of the drama in his proem 
 to the " Lucifer." 
 
 He also wrote two biting satirical poems, 
 " The Passing of Orpheus," and the " Rivalry 
 of Apollo and Pan," both of which were full of 
 humorous raillery and of sarcastic allusions to 
 the round-heads in general and to Wittewrongel 
 in particular. 
 
 The force of the " Lucifer " as a picture of \ 
 the age, of the nation, and of the world, was 
 instantly felt. It was a classic from the day of 
 its birth ; and from that time to this it has 
 easily maintained its position as the grandest 
 poem of the language. 
 
 The costly and artistic scenic heavens espe- 
 cially prepared for the " Lucifer " were, now that 
 the play was forbidden, stored away as useless 
 — a great loss to the managers of the theatre. 
 
 109
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 Vondel accordingly wrote his excellent tragedy 
 ** Salmoneus," founded upon the classic story 
 of the Jove-defying King of Elis, in which 
 this scene, as an imitated heaven, could also be 
 used. 
 
 His "Psalms of David," in various metres, 
 was his next venture. These he dedicated to 
 Queen Christina of Sweden, who, like the poet 
 himself, was a proselyte to the Catholic faith. 
 He also honored her with a panegyric, in return 
 for which the queen sent him a golden locket 
 and chain. 
 
 In 1657 we find the poet making another 
 journey to Denmark, where he went to fulfil 
 the unpleasant duty of paying his son's debts. 
 In Denmark he was the recipient of consider- 
 able attention, and while there his portrait was 
 painted by the celebrated Dutch artist Karl 
 van Mander, who was painter to the Danish 
 court. 
 
 THE SHADOWS. 
 
 Soon after his return to Amsterdam, the great 
 poet who had celebrated so many distinguished 
 personages, and who had become the pride of 
 his nation, was, by the bankruptcy of his profli- 
 gate son, brought to the very verge of poverty. 
 
 Besides the little Constantine, whose early 
 death we have elsewhere recorded, the poet
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 had three children : one son, Justus, and two 
 daughters, Sarah and Anna. Sarah died in 
 childhood, and Anna, who was said to resemble 
 her father both in intellect and in appearance, 
 lived with him, and was ever a loving and de- 
 voted daughter. The son, " Joost," was both 
 stupid and dissolute. His ignorance was so 
 great that, when some one spoke of his father's 
 tragedy, "Joseph in Egypt," he inquired if 
 Joseph was not also a Catholic. During the life 
 of his first wife, a woman of some force, this 
 unworthy son of a distinguished sire kept 
 within due bounds. Shortly after her death, 
 however, he was united to a shallow spendthrift 
 with whom he wasted his substance in riotous 
 living, while the shop, of course, was neglected ; 
 and the business, in consequence, soon ruined. 
 
 At this the old man was so grieved that, with 
 his daughter, who was yet with him, he moved 
 away to another part of the city. 
 
 Here he was many times heard to say, ** Had 
 I not the comfort and the quickening of the 
 Psalms" — of which at that time he was making 
 his version — "I should die in my misery." He 
 often also said to his friends, " Name no child 
 by your own name ; for if he should not turn 
 out well it is forever branded." 
 
 In the meantime the son went from bad to 
 worse. He squandered not only all of his own
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 property, but also much that had been intrusted 
 into his hands by others. 
 
 He stood on the point of bankruptcy, with 
 the penalty of imprisonment staring him in 
 the face, when his father, with a keen sense of 
 honor and of family pride, satisfied all creditors 
 by the sacrifice of his own snug little fortune 
 of forty thousand guldens, the savings of half a 
 century. 
 
 Friends of the family advised the erring son 
 to go to the Dutch Colonies in the East Indies, 
 there to begin life anew. But he obstinately 
 refused even to listen to such a proposition, 
 and continued his wild career unchecked. The 
 unhappy father was finally compelled to ask the 
 Burgomaster of the city to use the gentle com- 
 pulsion of the law, which was done. 
 
 There are few sadder pictures in the history 
 of letters than that of the old gray-haired poet, 
 bowed down with this greatest of all griefs, the 
 heart-crushing realization of being the parent of 
 ungrateful and criminal offspring, standing on 
 the quay, and bidding, with bitter agony, his 
 unfeeling child a last farewell. We imagine 
 the tear-bedimmed eyes of the heart-broken 
 father straining for one more glimpse of the 
 unworthy but yet beloved son, who, in the far 
 horizon, was perhaps even then carelessly walk- 
 ing the deck of the departing ship, meditating
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 some new and disgraceful profligacy upon his 
 arrival in India. Fortunately he died on the 
 journey, and the poet was doubtless spared 
 much suffering. Too bitterly had Vondel 
 learned, even as Lear, " How sharper than a 
 serpent's tooth it is to have a thankless child ! "^ 
 
 Of Vondel's fortune nothing remained save 
 the portion that his daughter Anna had in- 
 herited from her mother, which was, however, 
 by no means sufficient to support them both. 
 What was to be done? All that the old man 
 could do was to write verses — an art which as 
 an income-producer was well characterized by 
 Ovid's father: '•^ Scepe pater dixit : studimn quid 
 inutile tentas ? Mcsonides nullas ipse reliqiiit opes'' 
 
 Although the poet, in his pride, did not let 
 his want become known, some of his friends 
 who knew the state of affairs secured him a 
 position as clerk in the Bank of Loan at a 
 salary of six hundred and fifty guldens a year. 
 Thus the greatest Dutchman of the age and the 
 most illustrious poet of his country was com- 
 pelled, after a life of comparative leisure and 
 comfort, at the age of seventy, to earn his living 
 by the sweat of his brow, forced to engage in a 
 labor which to him must have been peculiarly 
 irksome. 
 
 The pen which had been accustomed to the 
 soaring style of tragedy was now chained to the 
 
 "3
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 dreary monotony of the ledger ; the quill that 
 had so often stung a nation to the quick was 
 now tamely employed in the prosaic balance of 
 debit and credit. 
 
 It is said that the poet, however, found it 
 impossible to restrain his muse entirely, and 
 that he sometimes mounted his Pegasus even 
 in the dull interior of the counting-room ; for 
 he employed his leisure moments — let us hope 
 there were many — in writing verses. 
 
 It has been said, too, that he was repri- 
 manded for this by his employers ; but of this 
 there is no proof whatever. 
 
 Indeed, Brandt goes out of his way to say 
 that this was overlooked on account of his age, 
 and because he was a poet, and could therefore 
 not be expected to pay such strict attention to 
 business. 
 
 It would be easy enough to indulge in a little 
 sympathetic bathos here. The poet's fate was 
 indeed a hard one. Yet his salary, small enough, 
 it is true, when we consider the man and his 
 career, was not the beggarly pittance that the 
 same amount would be now. Six hundred and 
 fifty guldens in the Holland of that day would 
 be equivalent to at least three thousand guldens 
 in the nineteenth-century Amsterdam, or a sal- 
 ary of twenty-five hundred dollars in New York. 
 
 Furthermore, this was the only hard mercan- 
 
 "4
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 tile work that the poet ever did. The ten years 
 of drudgery in his old age compensated for a 
 life-time of leisure and literary retirement ; for 
 after his marriage at twenty-six, the poet hosier 
 wisely left his business affairs in the hands of his 
 energetic and trustworthy wife. Soon after her 
 death the business devolved on " Joost " the 
 younger, with the disastrous results already 
 narrated. 
 
 At the age of eighty the old bard was given 
 an honorable discharge, with full pay, the cir- 
 cumstances of which were not without pathos. 
 When told that he was discharged, and that 
 another had been found to take his place, the 
 poet was dumbfounded and became very sad. 
 But when he learned that his discharge was 
 an honorable one, with a pension, the heaviness 
 left him, and he seemed greatly pleased. 
 
 Never, however, was Vondel so near the 
 brow of Parnassus as during these ten bitter 
 years. For this is the period of his greatest 
 literary activity. It was then that his genius 
 ripened into its full maturity. 
 
 Among other works produced during this 
 decade were his " Jephtha," a tragedy, with 
 which he himself was much pleased, as fulfilling 
 every requirement of the classic drama ; his 
 metrical translations of the " CEdipus Rex," 
 " Iphigenia in Tauris," and the " Trachiniae "
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 of Sophocles ; the tragedies, " David in Exile " 
 and " David Restored," allegories in which the 
 exile and the restoration of Charles 11. were 
 clearly set forth ; " Adonis," " Batavian Broth- 
 ers," "Faeton," and " Zungchin, or, the Fall of 
 the Chinese Empire." Of special interest also, 
 and of unusual literary merit, is his tragedy, ► 
 
 " Samson," which, even as Milton's " Samson 
 Agonistes," was perhaps more largely bio- 
 graphical than any other of his poems. The 
 points of similarity between this drama and 
 Milton's tragedy also are many and remark- 1 
 
 able. * 
 
 But the two most important tragedies of this 
 period were his " Adam in Exile " and the 
 " Noah," which together with the " Lucifer " 
 form a grand trilogy. The "Adam," especially, 
 only less sublime than the latter, has more of 
 idyllic beauty, and as a whole is scarcely inferior 
 in power. Here, too, the choruses blend with 
 the action, and are unsurpassed for melody, 
 sweetness, and tenderness, proclaiming their 
 author as the foremost lyrist of his nation. 
 
 THE VALLEY. 
 
 Vondel was the author of no less than thirty- 
 three tragedies. Only eighteen of these, how- 
 ever, were presented on the stage. Some were 
 
 ii6
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 deemed objectionable on account of their Bib- 
 lical subject matter; others because of their 
 leaning towards Catholicism. 
 
 The dramatist also suffered from the jealousy 
 of his rivals. One of these, Jan Vos, was one 
 of the managers of the theatre, and attempted 
 to make Vondel's plays unpopular by assigning 
 the most important roles to inferior players, 
 and also by using old and worn-out costumes. 
 No wonder, then, that the sweeping tragedies of 
 this master spirit began to lose favor with the 
 masses, and that the translations of the French 
 and Spanish plays that now flooded the coun- 
 try, with their extravagant scenery and their 
 flashy innovations, usurped their place. 
 
 A few years before his death, Vondel paid a 
 visit to the town of his birth, Cologne, and 
 there saw the very house where he was born. 
 With a poet's whim he climbed into the old 
 wall bedstead in which he was brought into the 
 world, which, of course, also furnished inspira- 
 tion for a poem. 
 
 Brief mention must also be made of Vondel's 
 last religious poems. His sublime " Reflections 
 on God and Religion," which was written in 
 opposition to the Epicurean and Lucretian 
 philosophy of Descartes ; his " John, the Mes- 
 senger of Repentance," which glows with all 
 the fervor and the grandeur of the Apocalypse ; 
 
 117
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 his " Glory of the Church," a work as learned 
 as it was elevated, which shows the rise and 
 progress of the Mother Church, would alone be 
 sufficient to entitle Vondel to be considered as 
 one of the great religious poets of the world, 
 and perhaps the most powerful champion of 
 Catholicism that ever entered the lists of con- 
 troversy. 
 
 At the age of eighty-four, Vondel translated 
 Ovid's " Metamorphoses " and also wrote a 
 great number of poems of all kinds — epigrams, 
 lyrics, letters, lampoons, dedications, eulogies, 
 threnodies, hymns, epithalamiums, riddles, and 
 epitaphs — in all of which his pen, sharpened 
 by the practice of nearly three-fourths of a 
 century, excelled. 
 
 To the last the aged poet preserved his in- 
 tense satiric vein. The fire of his spirit burned 
 as fiercely now as in the days of his youth. 
 One of the last poems written by those aged 
 fingers was his noble elegy on the distinguished 
 brothers De Witt, who, in 1672, were assassi- 
 nated in The Hague by a frenzied mob. 
 
 His last production was an epithalamium on 
 the marriage of his favorite niece, Agnes Blok. 
 He was then eighty-seven years old. His 
 physician having cautioned him to rest his 
 brain, he now bade the Muses, whom he had 
 known so long, and whom he had found so 
 
 118
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 sweet a comfort in his hours of sorrow, an eter- 
 nal farewell. 
 
 His health, however, remained good until a 
 few days before his death. His legs first 
 showed signs of weakness, and refused longer 
 to support him. His memory also failed him, 
 and he would often stop still in the midst of a 
 sentence. When he was made aware of this, 
 he was somewhat distressed, for his judgment 
 remained unimpaired to the last, saying, " I am 
 no longer capable of carrying on a conversation 
 with my friends." 
 
 Brandt, to whom we are indebted for most of 
 these interesting particulars concerning Vondel, 
 and other friends cheered his last days with 
 their visits. The poet, who now spent most of 
 his waking hours by the cheerful blaze of his 
 hearth, seemed to appreciate this very highly, 
 and whenever they were about to leave, would 
 tell them good-by with a hearty pressure of the 
 hand. Here, too, came Antonides, that brilliant 
 young poet, so untimely cut off, and the painter, 
 Philip de Koning, both of whom the old bard 
 admired greatly. 
 
 When in his ninetieth year he had himself 
 taken to the houses of the two Burgomasters of 
 the city, whom with broken words he begged 
 to provide for his grandson Justus, who bore 
 his name, and whose prospects, on account of 
 
 119
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 his father's profligacy and his grandfather's 
 poverty, were anything but promising. The 
 city fathers comforted the poor old man with 
 good words, and he returned to his corner by 
 the hearth, never again to leave it alive. 
 
 " Old age," says Brandt, " was now his ill- 
 ness ; the oil was lacking ; the fire must go 
 out." His limbs became cold and refused to 
 be warmed. Referring to this a few days 
 before his death, he remarked to Brandt, with 
 a humorous twinkle in his large brown eyes: 
 "You might give me this epitaph : 
 
 " Here in peace lies Vondel old ; 
 He died because he was so cold." 
 
 This was the old poet's last rhyme, surely an 
 humble one for him whose lofty imagery and 
 sublime conceptions are the wonder of his 
 countrymen. He also said to his niece, Agnes 
 Blok, " I do not long for death." She asked, 
 " Do you not long for eternal life ? " He re- 
 plied : " Aye, I do long for that ; but, like Eli- 
 jah, I would fain fly thither." Though now he 
 also began to say : " Pray for me that God will 
 take me out of this life." And when those 
 standing around his bedside asked : " Are you 
 ready now for the terrible messenger to come ? " 
 he replied, " Aye, let him come ; for, even 
 though I wait longer, Elijah's chariot will not 
 
 I20
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 descend. I shall have to go in at the common 
 gate. 
 
 After an illness of only eight days, on Feb- 
 ruary 5, 1679, about half-past four in the morn- 
 ing, the old bard fell asleep. He seemed to be 
 wholly free from pain, and died so softly that 
 the friends who stood around his bedside 
 scarcely observed it. 
 
 Vondel was aged ninety-one years, two 
 months, and nineteen days. He was nearly 
 double the age of the world's greatest drama- 
 tist, was seventeen years older than Euripides, 
 and just as old as Sophocles. 
 
 Three days after his death he was buried in 
 the Nieuvve Kerk — the Church of St. Catherine 
 — at Amsterdam, not far from the choir. Four- 
 teen poets were the pall-bearers who carried the 
 great master to his last resting-place. Around 
 his grave were the tombs of most of his literary 
 friends of former years. Here lay Hooft and 
 Barlaeus and Tesselschade. Here, too, was the 
 tomb of the noble de Ruyter, his country's 
 most illustrious naval hero. Here, among this 
 company of distinguished dead, among these 
 sculptured busts and mediaeval effigies, these 
 monumental tombs and glorious cenotaphs, 
 this greatest of all Hollanders was buried in a 
 simple grave, unmarked by even an epitaph. 
 Three years afterwards Joan Six, one of
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 the Aldermen of the city, had the following 
 time-verse (which gives the year of his death) 
 engraved upon the stone: 
 
 To THE Oldest and Greatest Poet. 
 VIr phcebo et MVsIs GratVs VonDeLIVs hIC est 
 VI MV I V V D LIV IC 
 
 6 1005 I 5 5 5005015 iioo 
 
 1679 
 
 Shortly after his decease, Antonides, Vollen- 
 hove, and others of the younger poets also 
 honored him with eulogies as the first poet of 
 his age. To the pall-bearers a medallion was 
 given, on one side of which was the image of 
 the poet ; on the other, a singing swan, with the 
 year of Vondel's birth and death, and the in- 
 scription : " The oldest and greatest poet." i 
 
 i 
 
 his' person and character. 
 
 Vondel was of medium height, with a figure 
 well made and compact. His countenance was 
 one of remarkable intelligence, and was charac- j 
 
 terized by an expression at once earnest and 
 exalted. 1 
 
 In early life his face was pale and thin, but 
 later, after the disappearance of his strange 
 malady, it became broad and full, and of a
 
 OF VONDEL, 
 
 healthful color, with glowing red cheeks. His 
 forehead, not too high, was broad and com- 
 manding, a fit arsenal for those thunderbolts of 
 invective that he knew so well how to em- 
 ploy. One of his eyebrows was slightly higher 
 than the other. Beneath them glowed two 
 deep brown eyes, large and penetrating — eagle 
 eyes, full of fire, as if, naively says his biographer, 
 "he had satires in his head." His nose was 
 sensitive and somewhat large ; his mouth of 
 medium size, with rather thin lips. He usually 
 wore his hair short, his ears only half covered. 
 On his chin grew a small pointed beard, in early 
 manhood a dark brown, later white with age. 
 Altogether a figure striking and noble, if not 
 grand and imposing — one that long acquaint- 
 ance would only render the more impressive, 
 for it was stamped with character. Thus the 
 outward man ! Would you learn the stature of 
 his soul? Read his magnificent works. 
 
 Strange to say, he who was so full of thought 
 and spirit in his writings was still and silent in 
 the presence of others. Once when dining with 
 Grotius, Vossius, and Barlaeus — the three most 
 learned men of the age— it is related that dur- 
 ing the course of the whole meal the poet said 
 not one word. He was usually grave and taci- 
 turn. When he did speak, however, he was 
 intense and pointed. 
 
 123
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 He was ever modest in his deportment and 
 temperate in his habits. Though living in an 
 age of good fellowship and of royal tippling, 
 when post-prandial drunkenness was the rule 
 rather than the exception, he was never known 
 to have indulged to excess. Like Dante, Mil- 
 ton, and Petrarch, furthermore, his private life 
 was pure. Not one accuser ever threw mud at 
 its whiteness. 
 
 His clothes, though in the fashion and in 
 good taste, were always plain and unassuming. 
 He enjoyed the society of artists and men of 
 letters, learning, and judgment. He was ex- 
 tremely popular among his relatives, which 
 speaks well for his heart, and is surely a good 
 index to his true character. 
 
 Vondel was a true friend, and was ever ready 
 to prove his devotion, if need be, by the sacrifice 
 of blood and treasure. Such a romantic attach- 
 ment as that of Dante for Beatrice was doubt- 
 less unknown to our poet. His was the more 
 natural ardor of a deep-seated affection. Yet 
 he had the capacity for suffering so character- 
 istic of genius. We know that, like William HI., 
 he was profoundly affected by the death of his 
 wife. For several years, indeed, he was in such 
 a melancholy that his thoughts fell still-born 
 from his pen. He wrote little, and destroyed 
 all that he wrote. Life had lost all charms for 
 
 124
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 him. He was, however, awakened from this 
 reverie of sorrow by the bugle blast of war ; 
 and only in the roar of the conflict did he forget 
 the sting of grief. 
 
 Vondel was in no sense a theologian, and 
 had no patience with hair-splitting distinctions. 
 Though a fervid Catholic, his toleration is 
 shown by his remark that he would not " sit in 
 the Inquisition as a judge of anyone's life." 
 
 " There were some hot-headed Papists," he 
 said, " who persecuted the pious of other 
 creeds. It is also true that the Papists of all 
 time have sought to rule the consciences of 
 men. However, some reformers are lately fol- 
 lowing in their footsteps." In regard to the 
 wonderful legends of the early Church, he re- 
 marked that they were " monkish fables written 
 in the dark ages for the ignorant people." That 
 his Catholicism had not lessened his love for 
 freedom or for his country his later poems 
 bear excellent witness. 
 
 Though by his bitter lampoons and severe 
 invective he had made many enemies during 
 the course of his long career, yet his popularity 
 is seen in the fact that his memory was honored 
 by men of all creeds and parties. The Jesuits 
 of Antwerp placed his portrait in their cloister 
 among the most illustrious men of ancient and 
 modern times. 
 
 125
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 He had gathered no riches with his poetry. 
 On the contrary, his losses were far greater 
 than his gains. The most costly gift ever given 
 him was the golden locket and chain from her 
 majesty Queen Christina of Sweden, This 
 present was worth about two hundred dollars. 
 Amelia von Solms, the widow of Frederic 
 Henry, also honored him with a gold medal for 
 a poem on the marriage of her daughter, the 
 Princess Henrietta. For his ode on the dedica- 
 tion of the new Stadthuis, the authorities of 
 Amsterdam honored him with a silver cup. The 
 visiting Elector of one of the German States 
 gave him, for some verses in his honor, " a small 
 sixteen guldens." For his eulogy in honor of 
 the Archbishop of Cologne, the city fathers 
 allowed him thirty guldens. 
 
 His daughter Anna, dying before him, willed 
 him her portion, which, with his pension, proved 
 amply sufificient for his maintenance. 
 
 A few months before his death he had willed 
 all of his books to a certain priest. Thinking 
 that if they remained with him he might injure 
 his feeble health by reading, he allowed them 
 to be taken away. Afterwards, however, he 
 bitterly regretted this, and, with tears in his 
 eyes, complained to one of his friends that all 
 of his treasures had been stolen, and that now 
 nothing was left him. 
 
 126
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 In his youth his motto was: '* Lov^e conquers 
 all things." Later he signed his productions 
 with the word " Zeal," or " Justice " — the last 
 a play on his name ; sometimes, also, with the 
 letters P. L., mQ3.mr\g pro liber tate, or with the 
 initials P. V. K. — " Palamedes of Kologne." In 
 some of his works was to be seen a picture of 
 David playing a harp, with the device " Justus 
 fide vivit," to which, of course, could be given 
 a double meaning : " The just man lives by 
 faith," or " Justus lives by his lyre." 
 
 Vondel's diligence was phenomenal. Once he 
 remarked in a letter to a friend that the height 
 of Parnassus can only be attained by much pant- 
 ing and sweat, and that attention and exercise 
 sharpen the intellect. The multitude and the 
 excellence of his works prove the worth of his 
 philosophy. 
 
 His thirst for knowledge was extraordinary, 
 and he left few corners of that vast field un- 
 tilled. To learn the best expressions for each 
 trade and profession he was wont to question 
 all kinds and conditions of men in regard to the 
 words that they used in their trade or calling. 
 Farmers, carpenters, masons, artists, men of 
 every business and profession added to his 
 vocabulary. He thus built up the language, 
 and himself attained a thorough mastery over 
 his native tongue ; one never equalled by any 
 
 127
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 of his countrymen, with the possible exception 
 of the poet Bilderdyk. 
 
 He was, moreover, always ready to receive 
 suggestions in regard to his own productions, 
 and often read them to his friends to obtain 
 the benefit of their criticism. This, however, 
 was more true of his translations than of his 
 originals. He took much pleasure, also, in 
 praising the work of others, especially that of 
 the younger poets. 
 
 That he was an excellent critic is shown by 
 his prose essays, though he was too impression- 
 able to beauty to be very severe. He was 
 exceedingly modest in regard to his own pow- 
 ers. He considered Hooft the foremost among 
 the Dutch writers of his age, not only on ac- 
 count of his sweet lyrics and stately tragedies, 
 but also because of his historical works. 
 
 Constantine Huyghens he praised for his live- 
 liness and fancy, his subtlety, and his wonderful 
 versatility. He also thought highly of Anslo and 
 de Dekker, and particularly of those two young 
 giants, Vollenhove and Antonides. In " The 
 Y Stream " of the latter he saw extraordinary 
 promise, and he thenceforth called the younger 
 poet his son, and was always most tender and 
 fatherly towards him, taking much delight in 
 his company. Of Vollenhove's " Triumph of 
 Christ," he said : "There is a great light in that 
 
 128
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 man, but it is a pity that he is a clergyman." 
 Brandt he called " a good epigrammatist." 
 
 HIS FEELING FOR ART. 
 
 Art to Vondel was a revelation of the divine 
 in man, and therefore the best promoter of 
 virtue. Hence iiis passion for poetry, and his 
 admiration for painting, music, and architec- 
 ture. How fitting that he who sang the union 
 of the arts : 
 
 "Blithe Poesy and Painting fair, 
 Two sisters debonair," 
 
 should be crowned " king of the feast " by a 
 company of fellow artists ! 
 
 Vondel was the painter's poet. He wrote 
 numerous inscriptions for paintings. He praises 
 Raphael, Veronese, Titian, Bassano, Giulo Ro- 
 mano, Lastman, Sandrart, Goltzius(the etcher), 
 and Rubens. He apparently preferred the 
 idealists of the Italian school, for he says but 
 little about the realists of the day, Steen, Os- 
 tade, Brouwer, and Teniers; nor even concern- 
 ing those who copied nature like Douw, De 
 Hoogh, and Mutsu. The great Rembrandt he 
 names but twice. In one place he speaks of 
 the portrait of Cornelis Anslo, of which he 
 tamely says, " The visible part is the least of
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 him, and who would see Anslo must hear him." 
 He seems to have been more impressed by the 
 fine portrait of Anna Wymers, for he says : 
 " Anna seems to be alive." Elsewhere, how- 
 ever, he speaks of "the night-owl, who hides 
 himself from the day in his shadows of cobweb ; " 
 which is thought to be a covert reference to 
 that magnificent study in chiaroscuro, Rem- 
 brandt's " Night Patrol." It is certain, however, 
 that he did not realize the powerful genius of 
 Holland's greatest artist. 
 
 Vondel, the admirer of the Italian classics, 
 with their delicacy and regularity, probably 
 could not appreciate the revolutionary splen- 
 dors of this great magician. Nor is there any 
 evidence to show that any friendship existed 
 between these two men, each the undying glory 
 of his country. And yet in some respects the 
 poet and the painter were strikingly alike. 
 Both were masters of style, and grandly daring 
 and original. Both were in the highest sense 
 creative, and dealt in tremendous effects, soar- 
 ing from mountain-top of grandeur into the 
 heaven of the sublime. Each was comprehen- 
 sive and universal ; each was a personified mood 
 of his nation and the maker of an epoch. Each 
 suffered poverty in old age. 
 
 Yet in one respect the painter had the advan- 
 tage over the poet. He spoke the universal 
 
 130
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 language of the eye, and thus his message has 
 reached millions who were deaf to his tongue. 
 The political obscurity, on the other hand, into 
 which little Holland was plunged so soon after 
 the meteoric blaze of her brief ascendancy, con- 
 fined her language to her narrow territory ; and 
 Vondel, equally worthy with Rembrandt of the 
 admiration of the world, became a sealed book 
 save to his countrymen. The former, however, 
 was the very life of his time, its recognized 
 voice; the latter was in his life neglected, to 
 become after his death the most illustrious 
 of his race, a name to conjure an age out of 
 obscurity. 
 
 Rubens, on the other hand, the poet fully 
 ap.preciated. In the dedication of his drama, 
 "The Brothers," 1639, he calls the great Flem- 
 ing " the glory among the pencils of our age." 
 
 Music, we know, had a powerful fascination 
 for our poet. He himself played the lute, while 
 his poetry throbs with the very heart of mel- 
 ody. How lovingly he speaks of the divine 
 art of song, that " charms the soul out of the 
 body, filling it with rare delight — a foretaste of 
 the bliss of the angels " ! 
 
 How keen must have been his enjoyment 
 when at Muiden he heard the lovely singers of 
 that age — the gifted Tesselschade on her guitar, 
 or the talented harpist, Christina van Erp ; or 
 
 131
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 when in his home in the Wafmoesstraat he 
 heard the patriotic chimes of his beloved city 
 peahng the lingering hours into oblivion ! How 
 profoundly, too, must his deep, earnest soul have 
 been stirred by the grandeur of the Psalms, 
 rising on the wings of Zweling's noble melodies 
 to the vaulted arches of the old cathedral where 
 he was wont to worship ! 
 
 HIS FEELING FOR NATURE. 
 
 The attitude of a poet toward nature is 
 always of peculiar and absorbing interest. Is 
 it because she is the perpetual fount of ideals, 
 because of her voiceless sympathy with his 
 ever-changing mood, or because her grandeur 
 and loveliness have power to move the deeps of 
 his soul ? However it be, the poets have almost 
 without exception found her the source of their 
 inspiration. 
 
 Into her rude confessional they pour the 
 unreserved tale of sorrows that no man can un- 
 derstand ; and she gently whispers peace. At 
 her feet they lay the guilty story of a soul ; the 
 love, the passions of a heart ; the joys, the 
 pains, the riotous thoughts of life; and she gen- 
 tly whispers peace. And here, too, Vondel 
 opened his heart, and here he also obtained 
 comfort for the vexing ills of life. 
 
 132 
 
 I 
 i
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 It has been said that man's appreciation of 
 the beauties of nature is proportioned to the 
 degree of his cultivation. In the ruder ages in 
 Holland, as in Germany, the mysterious forces 
 of the physical world and their various mani- 
 festations became personified in the good and 
 bad genii of the Teutonic mythology. In pro- 
 portion as the worship of these genii ceased, 
 nature became appreciated for its own sake. It 
 had first to be divested of the fear-inspiring 
 supernatural. To this Christianity and the ac- 
 cumulating discoveries in science largely con- 
 tributed. 
 
 Karel van Mander first introduced this feel- 
 ing into painting ; and Hendrik Spieghel, into 
 literature. And then came Hooft and Vondel, 
 who in this respect, as in all else, stood far 
 above their contemporaries. 
 
 Vondel's enjoyment of nature is not so keen 
 as that of Hooft, but it is far deeper and 
 stronger, and grew steadily to the end of his 
 life. Now and then his descriptions remind 
 one of the brooding landscapes of the " melan- 
 choly Ruysdael ; " at other times of the creations 
 of Lingelbach and Pynacker, in those striking 
 scenes where Dutch realism and Italian fancy 
 are oddly combined. 
 
 Under the influence of Seneca and Du Bartas, 
 according to the artificial fashion of the day, he 
 
 133
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 at first employed high-sounding mythological 
 names as symbols for the things themselves ; 
 but he soon outgrew this classical affectation. 
 Already in his " Palamedes," especially in the 
 chorus of " Eubeers," is this feeling for nature 
 apparent. This charming bucolic is the picture 
 of a Dutch landscape. Elsewhere we have 
 mentioned its resemblance to the " L'Allegro " 
 of Milton. 
 
 Like the bard of Avon, our poet saw but lit- 
 tle of the world. Twice he made a business 
 trip to Denmark, and shortly before his death 
 he paid a visit to Cologne. In addition to this, 
 he made several inland journeys — one to the 
 Gooi : 
 
 " Where the grand oak so thickly grows 
 Beyond rich fields, where buckwheat glows." 
 
 To Vondel truly " the heavens declare the 
 glory of God, and the firmament showeth his 
 handiwork." All of his poems, particularly the 
 " Lucifer," are studded with figures of the stars. 
 
 The poet drew many of his figures, too, from 
 animal life, as the beasts and the birds in the 
 sustained Virgilian similes in the " Lucifer." 
 What can be more exquisite, also, than his 
 verses on the tame sparrow of the lovely Su- 
 sanne Bartelot, in the style of the " Passer, deli- 
 ciae suae puellae " of Catullus ? 
 
 134
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 The north wind he calls " a winter-bird, so cold 
 and rough." The spring is his delight. He 
 is glad when he sees men busy fishing, planting, 
 and hunting, and engaged in all manner of bu- 
 colic occupations. In the Norway pines un- 
 loaded on the River Y, he sees a forest of masts 
 from which the tricolor of his dear country will 
 be unfurled in every clime. 
 
 Would you know his capacity for aesthetic 
 symbolism ? Read his superb ode to the Rhine. 
 
 Flowers were to him the beautiful symbols of 
 equally beautiful moral truths. What a world 
 of pathos in his voice where he says of Mary 
 Queen of Scots : 
 
 " O ! Roman Rose, cut from her bleeding stem ! " 
 
 And where he speaks of the mournful rose- 
 mary in the death-wreath of his little daughter 
 Saartje ! For little Maria, his darling grand- 
 child, he wishes " a winding sheet of flowers — 
 of violets white and red and purple, blue and 
 yellow." In the garlands of his fancy he ever 
 weaves the blooms of his delight, lilies, violets, 
 roses — white and red — and his national flower, 
 the glorious tulip. 
 
 He loved the open heaven and the airy free- 
 dom of solitude. " The welkin wide is mine," 
 he says, and like a wild bird adds, " and mine
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 the open sky." He loved the woods, where 
 his ears were caressed by " the blithe echoes of 
 the careless birds." 
 
 Long before Shelley he sang of the lark, 
 " wiens keeltje steiltjes steigert " (" whose 
 throat so steeply soars "). Long before Keats 
 he was thrilled by the deep-toned nightingale. 
 
 "The shrill-voiced nightingale. 
 Who at thy casement bower 
 Pours out his breathless tale," 
 
 reminds him of the questioning soul at the 
 window of eternity, " peering through panes on 
 darkness unconfined." Then, again, he likens 
 himself to a nightingale, caged for days in the 
 mournful cold, that bursts into a rapturous mel- 
 ody to see the warm sun melt away the gloom. 
 
 His soul communed with nature in her deep- 
 est and quietest moods. The peaceful meadow, 
 the calm beauty of the woods, the forest- 
 crowned mountains, the tumultuous sea were 
 all the themes of his song. * 
 
 Though his feeling for nature was not so fine ^ 
 
 nor so intense as that of some of the later 
 poets, yet it was deeper and truer. In the 
 world around him he saw but a reflection of the 
 grander world beyond. 
 
 Nor was the pantheistic conception strange 
 
 to him. See the first chorus of the " Lucifer," 
 
 136 
 
 I
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 where he calls God " the soul of all we can con- 
 ceive ; " and the second act, where he speaks of: 
 
 " the farthest rounds 
 
 And endless circles of eternity, 
 
 That, from the bounds of time and space set free, 
 
 Revolve unceasingly around one God, 
 
 Who is their centre and circumference." 
 
 How like the pantheism of Spinoza, first pro- 
 claimed some years later! 
 
 HIS PATRIOTISM. 
 
 Would you know him as a patriot ? Hear 
 his splendid tones of jubilation over the victory 
 of his countrymen— a victory where truth and 
 freedom triumphed. Hear his fine odes cele- 
 brating the commerce and the progress of the 
 growing commonwealth. Listen to his bursts 
 of patriotism in his "Orange May Song," and 
 where he calls the ancient Greek sea-galleys, 
 " child's play beside ours." 
 
 Vondel was a representative Dutchman, and 
 there was a strong national stamp on all that he 
 did. He was a grand type of the burgher of 
 the great Dutch middle class, which has ever 
 been the glory of the Netherlands, and which 
 has given to the world such an illustrious array 
 of soldiers, painters, scholars, poets, and states- 
 
 137
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 men. In reading him we are continually re- 
 minded that we are in the land of dykes and 
 windmills. Thus all of his heroes are invested 
 with Holland dignities. We hear of burghers, 
 burgomasters, and stadtholders ; of the dunes, 
 the sea, the dams, the strand, and the green, fer- 
 tile meadows. Wherever the scene of the play, 
 we always recognize the streets, the canals, 
 the houses, the palaces, and the environs of 
 Amsterdam. This was not due to a lack of 
 historical information, as was the case with 
 Shakespeare, but because the poet desired to 
 bring the truth closer to the hearts of his hear- 
 ers. The fact, too, that this made the scenic 
 requirements of a play considerably less, thus 
 reducing the expense of presentation, might 
 also have had some influence. 
 
 Vondel, furthermore, when representing the 
 past, never forgot the present. It was ever 
 before his eyes. Hence many of his plays were 
 political allegories, and were significant for their 
 bearing upon the time. 
 
 The one universal characterization of all of 
 his work, one that glows in every poem, is his 
 love of freedom — the ruling passion of his 
 countrymen. Already in the " Passover " — his 
 first tragedy, written at the age of twenty-six — 
 we hear his cry, " O ! sweetest freedom." Soon 
 afterwards, in his lyrics and in " Palamedes," he 
 
 138 
 
 I
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 showed his strong sympathy with Oldenbarne- 
 veldt ; and during the bitter persecution that 
 followed, when he was forced to fly like a 
 hunted beast from house to house, this spirit 
 grew by the opposition that it fed upon into a 
 fierce blaze, only quenched by death. 
 
 Like the Father of Tuscan literature, his 
 thoughts were ever attuned to the spirit of his 
 age. Like Dante, too, he was ever in the heart 
 of the battle. Like him, also, he was not 
 worldly wise, and was naturally of a rebellious 
 temperament. He was himself in perpetual 
 revolt. This was due, however, not to a satur- 
 nine disposition, but to a keen sense of justice, 
 and to the idealism of a lofty, cultivated mind. 
 To compel the age to conform to the measure 
 of his own conceptions he often found procrus- 
 tean methods necessary. Hence his stern 
 aggressiveness against wrong. 
 
 He fain would have sat apart in silent con- 
 templation, but he was destined to know neither 
 the Olympic calm of Goethe, nor the sublime 
 serenity of Shakespeare. "The I'fe of the day, 
 like an octopus, grasped him and would not let 
 him go." He drank in the wine of freedom, 
 and his soul was filled with the hunger of strife. 
 His cry now became a battle-cry. Wherever 
 he saw wrong and injustice — and his eyes were 
 ever open — he donned his armor and dealt 
 
 139
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 crushing blows for the cause of the oppressed. 
 Earnest, still, and passionate, great of soul and 
 impressionable of heart, the poet was a born 
 fighter. His whole life was a polemic against 
 tyranny. 
 
 His dear fatherland was the alpha and omega 
 of his inspiration, and he was, perhaps, the first 
 Dutchman who deeply felt the consciousness of 
 national power. The next object of his soul's 
 affection was his city, Amsterdam, whose glories 
 he never grew tired of singing. His character- 
 ization : 
 
 "The town of commerce, Amsterdam, 
 Known round the circle of the globe," 
 
 might not improperly be reflected upon its new 
 and yet more powerful namesake in the New 
 World, of whose grandeur he might well be 
 deemed the prophet, when, in his " Gysbrecht," 
 with patriotic eloquence he pictures the Ams- 
 terdam of the coming centuries. What though 
 the ruling trident has departed from the " Ven- 
 ice of the North," her peerless daughter, far 
 across the seas, yet holds triumphant sway ! 
 
 In his fiery patriotism Vondel much reminds 
 us of Milton. He also was at heart a zealous 
 republican, though he had a Christian's un- 
 shaken reverence for the anointed kings of 
 earth, and for what he thought a God-consti- 
 
 140
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 tuted authority. Hence the " Lucifer," and his 
 relentless opposition to the regicides of England 
 and to Cromwell, "that murderer without God 
 and shame, who dared to desecrate and to as- 
 sault the Lord's anointed," as he says bitterly 
 in one of his polemics. 
 
 Like the great Englishman, the Hollander 
 was also a good hater ; and he never spared 
 what he hated. Though charitable, he was un- 
 compromising, and forgave not easily ; always, 
 however, deprecating the excesses of the " root 
 and branch " zealots of his own party. Just as 
 Milton, after having joined the Presbyterians, 
 forsook them when they in turn began to per- 
 secute the followers of other creeds, so, too, 
 Vondel left the Remonstrants when they 
 crossed the jealous line of freedom. 
 
 We are indeed inclined to believe that his 
 strongest trait was his love of justice, which 
 caused him to oppose tyranny under every 
 guise, and to stigmatize the faults of his own 
 church and party with expletives as crushing as 
 those that he hurled against his enemies. 
 
 Thus his hatred of the Catholic Spaniards and 
 of the Dutch Gomarists. The bloody persecu- 
 tion of the one was in his eyes no worse than 
 the oppressive hypocrisy of the other. Even his 
 beloved House of Orange drew from him the 
 bitterest opposition when, in Prince Maurice and 
 
 141
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 in William II., it threatened the liberty of 
 his country and the privileges of his beloved 
 / Amsterdam. Of him it may truly be said 
 that his eyes were never blinded by party 
 prejudice. 
 
 Milton, in an immortal sonnet, blew a trumpet- 
 blast of vengeance for the slaughtered Pied- 
 montese. Why was that trumpet silent when 
 his own party perpetrated a similar massacre 
 at Drogheda? Vondel was, indeed, far more 
 magnanimous than his great English contem- 
 porary. He had more of "the milk of human 
 kindness." 
 
 How strong is our poet's admiration for the 
 founders of the Republic, the fathers of the 
 •'golden age," and for that grand race of in- 
 trepid discoverers, pioneers, and explorers that 
 pierced every corner of the globe ! How, too, 
 flames his soul with pride, when he recounts the 
 brave deeds of those old sea-lions, Tromp 
 and de Ruyter, and their fearless compan- 
 ions, in the fierce battle against the growing 
 English supremacy ! Not one of those heroes 
 whom he did not crown with the wreath of an 
 immortal eulogy ! 
 
 Yet Vondel, even as Dante, was at heart a 
 man of peace. Like his countrymen, he never 
 sought the fray ; but when battle was forced 
 upon him, it meant a fight to the death. All 
 
 142
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 his fighting was for peace. In one of his poems 
 he speaks of peace as : 
 
 "A treasure — Ah ! its worth unknown. 
 Surpassing far a triumph in renown." 
 
 Elsewhere he says, " The oHve more than 
 laurel pleases me." He never forgot the high 
 seriousness of his mission. He never lost sight 
 of the dignity of Christian manhood. 
 
 Vondel was in a large sense also the poet of 
 Christendom ; a crusader, with his face ever 
 towards the New Jerusalem, throned in ethereal 
 splendors. He felt himself a member of that 
 large Christian alliance that Henry IV. wished 
 to found as a barrier against the encroachments 
 of the Turk, the arch-foe of Christendom. 
 
 "He comes — the Turk ! We stand with winged arms," 
 
 he shouts in one of his poems. Yet he never 
 forgot to pray, also, that the erring ones, both 
 Jew and Gentile, might be brought into the 
 fold of the " true Church." 
 
 HIS VIEWS ON LIFE. 
 
 Of particular interest are the views of so old 
 and so profound a seer on life ; for every poet 
 has his scheme of life. What men call genius 
 is, indeed, only the faculty of seeing life through 
 
 143
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 the prism of a temperament, and the poets are 
 preeminently the men of temperament. Von- 
 del, with his earnest, sincere nature, out of the 
 bewildering chaos of his environment soon 
 evolved his own philosophy of existence. " Life, 
 that sad tragedy," the youthful poet calls it in 
 his " Passover." To him already life was a 
 passing pageant, and man, an exile. His epit- 
 ome of the world's history, moreover, is not 
 unlike the celebrated epigram of Rhynvis 
 Feith, another Dutch poet : 
 
 " Man, like a withered leaf, falls in oblivion's wave. 
 We are, and fade away — the cradle and the grave ; 
 Between thetn flits a dreanri, a drama of the heart ; 
 Smart yields his place to Joy, and Joy again to Smart ; 
 The monarch mounts his throne ; the slave bows to the 
 
 floor ; 
 Death breathes upon the scene — the players are no 
 
 more." 
 
 His gaze, like Milton's, was ever upward, 
 through the prison-bars of time, into the uncon- 
 fined vast of eternity. His tone, too, was most 
 glorious when singing "celestial things." 
 
 How like the voice of a Hebrew prophet his 
 note of warning, where he cries : 
 
 " Batavians, repent ; 
 Think of Tyre and Sidon. 
 Repent as the Ninevites ! 
 O ! mourn your sins ! " 
 144 
 

 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 And after all this painful revelry of life, this 
 lust of action, and the battle's roar, it is a 
 "haven sweet and still" that his earth-tor- 
 mented soul longs for. How softly he whis- 
 pers after his fiery trumpet tones are done : 
 
 " O ! help me, O my God, to give my life to thee, 
 My fragile self, my will, my little all. Let me, 
 O thou beyond compare ! O source of everything ! 
 In praises rich and deep thy matchless glory sing ! " 
 
 In the pensive twilight of old age, he grew 
 more and more conscious of the true everlast- 
 ing, and his patriotism became the all-embrac- 
 ing one of the '* fatherland above." He now 
 began to look forward with child-like faith to 
 the revelations of the resurrection, though not 
 forgetting that : 
 
 "The infant of eternity 
 Must first be cradled in the tomb ; " 
 
 but believing that from the cerements of mys- 
 tery shall break a light to lead the soul to 
 heaven. 
 
 HIS PLACE AND ART. 
 
 Vondel, to an extraordinary degree, possessed 
 that keen insight into human nature which is 
 the first requisite of the great satirist. He was 
 the Juvenal of his time. Though his wit is 
 
 »45
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 never delicate nor keen, it is, however, sweeping 
 and irresistible. His was no gentle zephyr of 
 irony to tickle the tender cuticle of a supersen- 
 sitive age, but a very cyclone of mockery to 
 laugh a thick-skinned generation out of folly. 
 
 His poetry is ever the instrument of exalta- 
 tion ; and though in its condemnation of evil 
 it often by its directness and frankness gives 
 some offense to the delicate edge of our modern 
 refinement, it is never indecently coarse ; it is 
 never a pander to vice. 
 
 Indignation more intense, scorn more con- 
 temptuous, satire more powerful, invective more 
 tremendous than that glowing in the polemics 
 of this great satirist have never struck fear 
 into the hardened hearts of the wicked. Few 
 men have been so hated ; few have been so 
 loved. 
 
 Yet the sublime is the true field of this poet, 
 and sublimer thoughts than his were surely 
 never spoken. The grandeur of Job, the glory 
 of the Psalms, and the splendor of the Apoca- 
 lypse are all to be found in his magnificent Bib- 
 lical tragedies, that noble series commencing 
 with the "Jerusalem Desolate" of his untried 
 youth, and ending with the "Noah" of his 
 octogenarian ripeness. 
 
 The influence of the Bible on his art was 
 prodigious. The Holy Writ was the inexhaust- 
 
 1^6
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 ible quarry from which he hewed his master, 
 pieces ; throughout whose development may- 
 be traced the growth of a human soul. See 
 his paraphrase of the Psalms, if you would 
 know his enjoyment of the serene beauty of 
 holiness. 
 
 The artistic truth of all his creations is seen 
 in their elemental objectivity — the portrayal 
 by vivid flashes of feeling and by artful repre- 
 sentation of the ever-during and imperishable. 
 In most of his dramas is the sublimity of 
 ^schylus with the fine proportion and the 
 directness of Sophocles. In others, as in the 
 " Leeuwendalers," where he sings the triumph 
 of peace, is the sweetness and the feminine 
 strength of Euripides. 
 
 Of Vondel it has truly been said : " Nihil 
 tetigit quod non ornavit ; " for to beauty — 
 
 " God's handmaid, Beauty, 
 Whose touch rounds 
 A dew-drop or a world " — 
 
 he ever paid the incense of a passionate devo- 
 tion. 
 
 " vEschylus does right without knowing it," 
 said Sophocles ; even so Vondel possessed an 
 unerring instinct for the true ; ever stringing the 
 jewelled beads of fancy on the golden thread of 
 truth. 
 
 147
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 Like vEschylus, too, he was at heart a lyric 
 poet ; yet who shall say that in his character 
 delineation, in the sweeping energy of his ac- 
 tion, and in the management of his plot, he was 
 not almost equally as admirable ? 
 
 Like Dryden, Vondel rose very slowly to the 
 stature of his full power. All of his dramas 
 preceding the " Lucifer " show this gradual 
 development ; all of those that come later main- 
 tain the same standard of excellence. 
 
 Like Goethe, the Dutch poet exerted an 
 ennobling influence on the theatre of his coun- 
 try. Like Dante, he was fond of a strong, bold 
 outline, and always chose a direct rather than 
 a circuitous route. Like Shakespeare, he was a 
 keen observer of affairs, a student of life. His 
 works are the rimed chronicles of his age. 
 His was a transcendent genius, not oppressed by 
 excessive culture, and with the creative ever the 
 ruling instinct. To him poetry was the divinest 
 of the arts. It became the ritual of his soul's 
 worship ; duty, beauty, and religion were the 
 three strings on his melodious lyre. 
 
 His works abound in little scholasticism. 
 Pedantry and affectation were his abomination ; 
 pith and vigor, directness and comprehensive- 
 ness, the radical elements of his strength. In 
 his works we find a harvest of such glorious 
 themes as store the granary of poet minds ; we 
 
 148 
 
 i
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 see everywhere evidences of power. We are 
 ever startled by : 
 
 " The lightning flash of an immortal thought, 
 The rolling thunder of a mighty line." 
 
 Vondel's similes are more striking than his 
 metaphors ; there is a sustained glow in his 
 imagery. In this respect, also, he shows the 
 Oriental bent of his genius. This is further- 
 more seen in his personification of the elements 
 of nature and of the stars and constellations, as 
 in the " Lucifer," which gives a barbaric splendor 
 to the play. Few poets, indeed, in any litera- 
 ture, contain such splendid and elevated images. 
 
 He, too, could woo discordant sounds to 
 harmony, and wove the consonantal Dutch 
 into mellow meshes of ensnaring sound. A 
 nobleness not devoid of grace, a sublimity not 
 austere, but warm with human sympathy; a 
 manner more remarkable for chaste strength 
 and a rugged symmetry of form than for deli- 
 cacy or elegance — these are some of the charac- 
 teristics of his style. 
 
 Not for him the sweet felicities of the mincing 
 phraser or the dreamy languors of the riming 
 troubadour. Not for him the gaysome zephyr 
 or the dim, romantic moon. He is ever on 
 the serene altitude of lofty contemplation, or 
 in the valley, battling like a god. He is 
 
 149
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 always deeply serious. He is everywhere 
 sincere. His is the whirlwind and the storm ; 
 the noonday glare and the midnight gloom. 
 His is the eagle's bold, epic flight and the 
 lark's wild, lyric soar. No nightingale of senti- 
 ment trills her dulcet serenade amid the forest 
 of his song. And yet who can be more ten- 
 der and affecting, who more truly, softly sweet? 
 All is virile ; nothing is effeminate. All is 
 manly, healthful, pure. There is no morbid 
 fever of a brain diseased and foul. There is no 
 pale, misleading will-o'-the-wisp of a heart de- 
 cayed and bad. There is freshness, there is 
 beauty, there is truth. " Magnificent " is the one 
 word for his manner, " the grand style " of the 
 Netherlands. 
 
 His was the sombre Occidental imagination 
 fired with the splendor of the Orient. His 
 poetry is a Gothic cathedral, grand, towering, 
 and impressive, typical at once of the massive 
 ruggedness of the oak and the severe sublimity of 
 the Alp ; a Teutonic temple, in whose cloistered 
 corridors we hear the majestic sweep of unseen 
 angels' wings, while the glorious symphony of 
 harps and psalteries, played by countless cheru- 
 bim, mingling with the rich bass of the organ 
 and the ethereal tenor of invisible choristers, 
 rolls like a flood of celestral harmony through 
 all the deep diapason from heaven to hell. 
 
 150
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 The word " vondel " in the Brabantian dialect 
 means a " little bridge," which suggests a not 
 inapt analogy ; for it was Vondel who bridged 
 the chasm between the crude Mystery and- 
 Miracle Plays of the Chambers of Rhetoric, and 
 the " Lucifer," a drama unequalled in the 
 history of Dutch literature. Between the dead 
 abstractions of the Chambers and the warm, 
 concrete life of the sublime Vondelian drama, 
 even as between " Gorboduc " and " Hamlet," lay 
 the experience of one soul. 
 
 Hooft, like Heiberg in Denmark and Lessing 
 in Germany, instituted a revolution in the 
 world of taste. But Vondel, even more than 
 Hooft, developed the latent powers of the 
 tongue, enlarged its resources, and fixed its 
 form. His is still the noblest of Dutch diction, 
 possessing that strange virility that defies time. 
 
 At the beginning of the century the language 
 was hardly fit for literary use. The school of 
 Vondel in one generation — the first half of the 
 seventeenth century — did for Holland what the 
 thirteenth century had done for Italy and the 
 sixteenth for England. Vondel, no less than 
 Shakespeare, was the creator of an epoch. His 
 influence on his own language was equally as 
 wonderful, his impress on his country's litera- 
 ture almost as great. 
 
 To him the poets of the following genera-
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 tions, even the great Bilderdyk, looked for in- 
 spiration. To him also they have ever paid 
 homage. 
 
 Like Homer, he also found his Zoilus, but the 
 greatest intellects of his country and his age — 
 and surely few epochs have seen greater — Gro- 
 tius, Hooft, Vossius, Huyghens, and scores of 
 others of almost equal fame thought him not 
 inferior to the noblest poets of antiquity, 
 
 Vondel lived in a memorable epoch and was 
 its personification. It was the Augustan Era of 
 Holland, the Dutch Age of Pericles. Amster- 
 dam, like another Athens, had become the 
 centre of the world's civilization. Nowhere in 
 that age were the arts so sedulously cultivated ; 
 nowhere had their cultivation been rewarded by 
 such high attainment. 
 
 Science, the world puzzler, opened his toy- 
 box, the universe, and showed its countless won- 
 ders. Philosophy, with guessive hand, played 
 at the riddle Destiny, and mild Religion, at 
 the game of War. Literature, the sum of all the 
 arts and all the sciences, shone like the dazzling 
 Arctic sun in its brief midnight noon — one hour 
 of glory in a day of gloom. When the poet 
 died, the epoch died with him. A night of 
 mediocrity now brooded over the marshy fens 
 of Holland. A swarm of poetasters succeeded 
 the race of poets. Originality was banished. 
 
 «S2
 
 OF VONDEL. 
 
 Affectation, with his sycophantic wiles, had won 
 the heart of a degenerate generation. Art, like 
 a flower suddenly deprived of the warm kisses 
 of day, pined away in the sterile cold. Genius 
 was dead. 
 
 Vondel is preeminently the poet of freedom. 
 The principles sanctified by the blood of his 
 countrymen, and won by nearly a century of 
 the most noble daring and heroic endurance, 
 he, as the voice of his nation, glorified in 
 his beautiful pastoral, the " Leeuwendalers." 
 These same principles also became the rallying 
 shout of the English Revolution of 1688. That 
 same war-cry, reechoing at Lexington and Ala- 
 mance, swept the American Colonies from 
 Bunker Hill to Guilford Court House like a 
 whirlwind of flame ; and tyrann)', with shudder- 
 ing dread, fled to its native lair. 
 
 The shibboleth of liberty, first blown with 
 stirring trumpet tones across the watery moors 
 of Holland by the patriot-poet Vondel, was 
 now repeated in deathless prose at Mecklenburg 
 and Philadelphia. A new United States arose 
 like a glorious phoenix from the ashes of the 
 old. 
 
 For the American Constitution was but the 
 grand conclusion of that lingering bloody syl- 
 logism of freedom, of which the Treaty of 
 Munster was the major premise. And Vondel, 
 
 153
 
 LIFE AND TIMES OF VONDEL. 
 
 inspired logician of the true, unravelling the 
 tangled skein of his country's destiny, also 
 uncoiled the golden thread of our great fate. 
 
 Of his magnificent works, the natural heritage 
 of the American people, we here present this 
 choice fragment, the " Lucifer," aglow with 
 the eternal spirit of revolt. 
 
 And now we leave our poet. A spotless 
 name, the record of a noble, sacrificing life, a 
 message of beauty, and a treasury of immortal 
 truths — this was Vondel's legacy to his country- 
 men. 
 
 L. C. V. N. 
 
 154
 
 Cbe "Cucifer. 
 
 ft 
 
 " Away, away, into the shadow-land. 
 
 Where Myth and Mystery walk hand in hand ; 
 Where Legend cons her half-forgotten lore. 
 And Sphinx and Gorgon throng the silent shore." 
 
 THE PARADISE HISTORY. 
 
 jHE Paradise history, as solving the 
 problem of the origin of man and 
 the origin of evil, and as foreshad- 
 owing the goal of human destiny, 
 has always been a subject of univer- 
 sal concern; one full of fascination for the imag- 
 ination of the poet. Few subjects, indeed, have 
 aroused such widely diffused and long sustained 
 interest. 
 
 Beginning with the " Creation " of the Spanish 
 
 157
 
 THE "LUCIFER:" 
 
 monk Dracontius, the Biblical paraphrases of 
 the old English poet Caedmon, and the Latin 
 poem of Avitus, Bishop of Vienna, we see, at 
 different periods, various studies of this absorb- 
 ing theme, especially in Italy, where a score or 
 more poets and essayists made it the source of 
 their inspiration. 
 
 Perhaps the most noted of these was Andrieni 
 (i 578-1652), who wrote the " Adamo," a tragedy 
 in five acts, whose subject is the fall of man. 
 This drama, however, is a rather crude affair, 
 such allegorical abstractions as Death, Sin, and 
 Despair being the chief characters. 
 
 About the same period, strange to say, the 
 Netherland imagination, not long awakened 
 from its medieval torpor, also became fired 
 with this theme. The youthful Grotius was the 
 first to attempt it in his "Adamus Exul," a 
 Latin drama of considerable merit. This was 
 in 1601, several years before the ''Adamo" of 
 Andrieni. Two other Dutchmen of the same 
 generation, both far greater poets than Gro- 
 tius, were also attracted by this subject. One 
 was the distinguished Father Cats in his idyll, 
 "The First Marriage;" the other was Justus 
 van den Vondel in his " Lucifer." 
 
 We would, in passing, call attention to the 
 curious coincidence that so many poets of so 
 many different nations, most of them doubtless 
 
 158
 
 AN INTERPRETATION. 
 
 without knowledge of the others, should about 
 the same time have chosen this subject of such 
 historical and symbolical importance. For be- 
 sides the poets mentioned were many others: 
 the Scotchman Ramsay, the Spaniard de 
 Azevedo, the Portuguese Camoens, the French- 
 man Du Bartas, and two Englishmen, Phineas 
 Fletcher and John Milton. A more remarkable 
 instance of telepathy is not, we believe, on 
 record. 
 
 Of all of the works of the many authors who 
 have treated this theme, only two, however, 
 have withstood the critical test of time ; only 
 two have been awarded the palm of immortality. 
 These two are Milton's " Paradise Lost " and 
 Vondel's " Lucifer " : the former, the grandest of 
 English epics ; the latter, the noblest of Dutch 
 dramas. It is the " Lucifer " that we have been 
 asked to discuss. 
 
 DID MILTON BORROW FROM VONDEL ? 
 
 The " Lucifer " was published thirteen years 
 before " Paradise Lost." The scheme of the 
 English poem had, however, already been crys- 
 tallized in the mind of its author for fifteen 
 years. This scheme originally contemplated a 
 drama, which the poet's powerful imagination 
 gradually developed into an epic. 
 
 To whom Vondel was indebted for the founda- 
 
 ij9
 
 THE "LUCIFER:" 
 
 tion of his tremendous drama is easily ascer- 
 tained. He himself mentions his authorities in 
 his admirable and learned preface. Among 
 these were, besides the Holy Writ, the various 
 Church Fathers, the "Adamus Exul " of Gro- 
 tius, the work of Du Bartas, and a treatise on the 
 fallen angels, by the English Protestant, Richard 
 Baker. His own imagination, however, soared 
 far above the fundamental hints that he received 
 from any of these works on the subject, so that 
 the " Lucifer " is rightly considered one of the 
 most original and comprehensive poems in liter- 
 ature. 
 
 To whom Milton was indebted for the idea of 
 his great epic is, on the other hand, not so easy 
 to discover, although generation after genera- 
 tion of critics have thrown upon this problem 
 the searchlight of innumerable essays. 
 
 That the " Paradise Lost " is scintillant with 
 many of the brightest gems in the crown of the 
 Greek and Latin classics is apparent even at a 
 cursory reading. That it is also studded with 
 poetic paraphrases of many modern authors 
 has often been asserted. 
 
 However, the opportunity for originality was 
 colossal, and Milton's imagination proved equal 
 to the task. The conception of " Paradise 
 Lost " alone makes it the grandest work of the 
 imagination of modern times. 
 
 i6o
 
 AN INTERPRETATION. 
 
 That the English poet occasionally borrowed 
 a thought or a sentence can not be doubted. 
 Besides, he had a wonderful memory, long and 
 tenacious, which involuntarily emptied its 
 gatherings into the flow of his thought and into 
 the stream of his discourse. That this was not 
 always done unconsciously is known from 
 Milton's own confession, where he says: "To 
 borrow and to better in the borrowing is no 
 plagiarie." And that he bettered in the bor- 
 rowing who can doubt? All that he touched 
 turned to gold ; all that he thought came out 
 transfigured. In the alembic of his genius 
 truth became beauty ; the mortal, the immortal. 
 I As the " Lucifer " and the " Paradise Lost " 
 are both concerning the same subject, and as 
 they are both founded upon the Biblical account 
 of the creation, it is but natural that they 
 should have much in common. A comparison 
 of the two poems, therefore, we feel sure would 
 bring to light some striking and curious resem- 
 blances and many equally strong and remark- 
 able contrasts. 
 
 As such comparison would expand this article 
 beyond the prescribed limits, we must leave it 
 to the reader himself. Nor should he, for one 
 instant, forget the fundamental difference be- 
 tween the drama and the epic. 
 
 The epic may wander through the dales of 
 
 i6i
 
 THE "LUaFER:*' 
 
 Arcady, along description's slow, meandering 
 way, to pluck the roses of beauty and the lilies 
 of sentiment there growing in so sweet abund- 
 ance. The drama, with vigorous step and bold, 
 unerring eye, pursues a straight path to the 
 mountain-top of its climax, whence, with in- 
 creasing momentum, it plunges down to its aw- 
 ful catastrophe. It is the difference between 
 narration and action. 
 
 We shall have to content ourselves, there- 
 fore, by a brief reference to those who have 
 already given this matter their attention. 
 
 That Milton was under great obligations to 
 Vondel's drama has been maintained by Dutch 
 men of letters for generations. It has also 
 become the contention of several distinguished 
 English critics. Even as far back as 1825 the 
 poet Beddoes, in a review of " Hayley's Life and 
 'Ltiters'' {Quarterly Reinew, vol. xxxi.), says: 
 " An effect which has hitherto not been noticed 
 was then produced by the Dutch poets. In 
 their school Joshua Sylvester (who lived 
 amongst them) learnt some of the peculiarities 
 of his versification ; and if Milton was incited 
 by the perusal of any poem upon the same 
 subject to compose his ' Paradise Lost,' it was 
 by studying the ' Lucifer ' and 'Adam in Bal- 
 lingschap ' of Vondel, for he tried his strength 
 with the same great poet in the ' Samson 
 
 162 

 
 AN INTERPRETATION. 
 
 Agonistes ; ' Vondel being, indeed, the only 
 contemporary with whom he would not have 
 felt it a degradation to vie." 
 
 Mr. Edmund W. Gosse, in a brilliant essay ) 
 entitled " Milton and Vondel," was, we believe, j 
 the first Englishman who gave the subject con- 
 scientious study. 
 
 ' For this, on account of his knowledge of the 
 difficult Dutch language, he was peculiarly 
 fitted. Mr. Gosse, in his own interesting man- 
 ner, tells how, during the seventeenth century, 
 the Dutch, then one of the most vigorous lan- 
 guages of Europe, was much more studied than 
 it is to-day ; how the patriot Puritan, Roger 
 Williams, having learned the language in Hol- 
 land during his exile there, taught it to John 
 Milton, then Cromwell's Latin secretary ; how 
 Milton also must have heard of the great fame 
 of the " Lucifer," and of the storm of fanatical 
 opposition that greeted its publication, from 
 some of the Dutch diplomats whom it was his 
 place to entertain ; how, too, he could hardly 
 have been ignorant of the name of the distin- 
 guished author of the drama, since it is known 
 that he was well acquainted with Hugo Grotius, 
 who was a warm admirer and the bosom friend 
 of Vondel. 
 
 In addition to these and other reasons, Mr. 
 Gosse then brings forward a plausible array of 
 
 163
 
 THE "LUCIFER:" 
 
 internal evidence, showing many points of simi- 
 larity in the construction and in the treatment 
 of the two poems, summing up with the con- 
 clusion that Milton was undoubtedly under 
 considerable obligation to his great Dutch con- 
 temporary. 
 
 Rev. George Edmundson, M.A., of Middlesex, 
 England, a graduate of Oxford, in a scholarly 
 and painstaking work of two hundred pages, 
 entitled " Milton and Vondel — a Literary Cu- 
 riosity," next took up the subject, carrying the 
 comparison not only into these two poems, but 
 into all the works of Milton and into several 
 others of Vondel. 
 
 Mr. Edmundson also discovered many won- 
 derful coincidences and innumerable parallel- 
 isms in phrase and in imagery. Inspired with 
 the motto, S^iiiui cuique honorem, he has woven 
 a tissue of most ingenious arguments to prove 
 that Milton borrowed assiduously from the 
 "Lucifer," the ''Adam," the "Samson," and 
 other works of Vondel. 
 
 Mr. Vance Thompson, in the New York 
 Musical Courier of December 15, 1897, has also 
 added some interesting data to the subject. 
 
 With all the conclusions of these gentlemen 
 we are not yet, however, prepared to agree. 
 It is true we have not given the matter the 
 comparative study that they have given it. 
 
 164
 
 AN INTERPRETATION. 
 
 We would wait, therefore, until we had thought 
 more deeply about it before expressing our 
 final opinion. However, we believe that a 
 critical and impartial comparison of the two 
 masterpieces will neither detract from the glory 
 of Milton nor dim the grandeur of Vondel. 
 
 THE SCENE OF THE PLAY. 
 
 " Lucifer " is not the story " of man's first dis- 
 obedience," though this is the outcome of the 
 catastrophe. It is the drama of the fall of the 
 angels. Yet man is the one subject of conten- 
 tion. Our first parents are, therefore, kept in 
 the logical background of cause and effect. 
 The creation of Adam, his bliss and his growing 
 eminence, were the prime cause of the angelic 
 conspiracy. The two-fold effect of the revolt 
 was to the rebellious angels loss of Heaven, and 
 to Adam loss of Eden. 
 
 Vondel, moreover, follows the doctrines of i 
 certain theologians that Christ would have 
 become man even had Adam not sinned. Like 
 Milton, he measures the scene of his heroic 
 action with " the endless radius of infinitude," 
 and by the artful use of terrestrial analogies 
 conveys to the reader that idea of incompre- 
 hensible vastness that the transcendent nature 
 of the subject demands. Vondel is, indeed, 
 
 165
 
 THE "LUaFER:" 
 
 even more vague ; the drama not giving oppor- 
 tunity for detailed description. Both are a won- 
 derful contrast to the minute visual exactness 
 of Dante. 
 
 The attempt to reconcile the spiritual qualities 
 of the divine world with the physical proper- 
 ties of this, necessarily introduces some una- 
 voidable incongruities. How can a material con- 
 ception of the immaterial be given save through 
 the symbols of the real ! How else can the 
 unknown be ascertained save through the equa- 
 tion of the known! How else, save by visual 
 and sensuous images, express such impalpable 
 thought ! 
 
 "Thus measuring- things in Heaven by things on earth," 
 
 the poet gives us a finite picture of the 
 infinite; a picture which yet, by means of 
 shadowy outlines and an artistic vagueness, 
 impresses us with the awful sublimity of the 
 illimitable and eternal. The physical immen- 
 sity of the poem is unsurpassed. 
 
 Humanized gods and Titanic passions shad- 
 owed by fate upon the immaculate canvas of 
 sacred legend — this is the play. The personality 
 of the author is never seen ; yet when we know 
 the man and his life, we cannot but see therein 
 the reflex of his own experience. The scene is 
 
 1 66
 
 AN INTERPRETATION. 
 
 in Heaven and never leaves it. When actions 
 occur elsewhere, they are described. 
 
 Infinities above the scene of contention, far 
 beyond " Heaven's blazing archipelagoes," where 
 no imagination dares to soar, reigns He 
 
 " Before whose face 
 The universe with its eternity 
 Is but a mote, a moment poised in space." 
 
 There 
 
 "Stand the hidden springs of life revealed, 
 The wondrous mechanism from earth concealed. 
 There Nature's primal premises appear 
 In simple grandeur, deep and crystal clear. 
 Flowing from out the heart of boundless ocean 
 Of the eternal Now. With rapt devotion 
 A myriad ministering forces there await 
 The summons of His awful eyes of fate. 
 The mandates of His all-compelling voice." 
 
 Far, far below those empyrean vaults is Earth, 
 with its pristine inhabitants. God and man — 
 the Creator and the thing created, the First 
 Cause and the last effect — are both judiciously 
 only introduced into the drama by hearsay. 
 
 Deep in the vague immensity lies Chaos, the 
 uninhabited, through which the vanquished 
 rebels are to be hurled to their endless doom. 
 
 But the poet also takes us 
 
 " Where meteors glare and stormy glooms invest ; " 
 
 as, leaving Elysium's fields of light, he views 
 
 167
 
 THE *' LUCIFER:" 
 
 " Hell's punishments and horrors dire, 
 Its gulfs of woe and lakes of rayless fire, 
 Where demons laugh and fiends and furies rage 
 Round writhing victims whose parched tongues assuage 
 No cooling drops of hope." 
 
 Such is the grand perspective from the scene 
 of this stupendous drama. 
 
 THE PEACEFUL JOYS OF PARADISE. 
 
 The play opens as softly as the opening strains 
 of some grand oratorio. The first act is largely 
 descriptive, a picture of the beautiful serenity 
 of Heaven and of the joys of Paradise. 
 
 Belzebub, the second devil, first comes on the 
 scene, and, as he stands upon those " heights 
 flushed in creation's morn," by means of a 
 few words, vibrant with suggestion and of far- 
 reaching import, he at once gives us the key 
 to the opening situation, indicating the relative 
 positions of the two chief personages of the 
 drama — the antithesis of Lucifer and Adam. 
 
 Apollion has been sent below to gain some 
 tidings of the new race of earth. With speedy 
 wings he soars back through the blue crystalline 
 and past the wondering spheres, bearing a 
 golden bough laden with choice fruit, that apple 
 sweet whose juice is wine of destiny. He is 
 brimming with enthusiasm over the wonders 
 that he has just witnessed. 
 
 i68
 
 AN INTERPRETATION. 
 
 Belzebub, who has been anxiously awaiting 
 his return, listens intently to his glowing de- 
 scription of the beauty of Eden and its primal 
 innocence, occasionally interrupting with excla- 
 mations of wonder. Question after question 
 suggests itself to his excited imagination. At 
 first he is aflame with curiosity, then jealousy 
 begins to tincture his ardor, and his admiration 
 soon changes into mockery. 
 
 Apollion then describes the primeval pair and 
 their unalloyed bliss, and confesses that in the 
 delightful blaze of Eve's charms his snowy wings 
 were singed. Indeed, to curb his increasing 
 desire, he covered his eyes with both hands and 
 wings. Even when godlike resolution had im- 
 pelled him to return on high, he thrice turned 
 back a lingering gaze towards the more than 
 seraphic beauty of the first woman. Far 
 sweeter than even the music of the spheres, 
 those nightingales of space, is this most beauti- 
 ful note in the song of creation ! 
 
 Indescribably delicate is his account of the 
 joys of that first marriage : 
 
 " And then he kissed 
 His bride and she her bridegroom — thus on joy 
 Their nuptials fed, on feasts of fiery love, 
 Better imagined far than told — a bliss 
 Divine beyond all angel ken ; " 
 
 adding, with exquisite pathos, 
 
 169
 
 THE "LUaFER:" 
 
 " How poor 
 Our loneliness ; for us no union sweet 
 Of two-fold sex — of maiden and of man — 
 Alas ! how much of good we miss ; we know 
 No mate or happy marriage in a Heaven 
 Devoid of woman." 
 
 With Belzebub, that mighty spirit severely 
 masculine, it is the growing power of the new 
 race that furnishes food for thought and ground 
 for an ulterior motive. The prospect of human 
 rivalry impresses him far more than the descrip- 
 tion of a happiness to which the sexless angels 
 must ever be strangers. His soul is keyed in 
 a grander, more passionless mood. Apollion, 
 however, cannot forget this charming vision of 
 idyllic joy. He repeats the same enchanting 
 strain again and again. He even forgets to 
 answer his chief's questions, and returns to the 
 same fascinating theme in : 
 
 " Their life consists 
 Alone in loving and in being loved — 
 One sweet, one mutual joy, by them indulged 
 Perpetually, yet e'er unquenchable." 
 
 In this masterly manner the two controlling 
 motives of the play, the envy of man's power, 
 and the jealousy of human happiness, are seen 
 to originate. The latter, however, is soon 
 merged into the former, for Apollion, failing 
 
 170
 
 AN INTERPRETATION. 
 
 to elicit sympathy with his tenderer emotions, 
 begins to sympathize with the more heroic 
 mood of Belzebub, and even attempts to inflame 
 it by artful suggestion. 
 
 The Archangel Gabriel, " The Herald from 
 the towering Throne of Thrones," now ap- 
 proaches, with all the choristers of Heaven, to 
 unfold the last divine decree. 
 
 From the mouth of his golden trumpet fall 
 the silvery tones of peace. With jubilant 
 tongue he praises the glorious attributes of 
 the Deity and the boundless beneficence of the 
 Godhead. In yet grander strain he prophesies 
 the ascent of man, 
 
 "Who shall mount up by the stairway of the world, 
 The firmament of beatific light 
 Within, into the ne'er-created glow ; " 
 
 and foretells the future incarnation of the Son 
 of God, who, " on his high seat in his unshad- 
 owed Realm," shall judge both men and angels. 
 Here the chorus, after the manner of the 
 antique drama, bursts into a line of pious 
 affirmation. Gabriel then continues his address 
 in a sterner tone. Obedience to the divine 
 command, and honor to the new race is hence- 
 forth the bounden duty of the angelic hosts. 
 Then follows a description of the three hier- 
 archies of Heaven, founded upon the doctrine 
 
 171
 
 THE "LUCIFER:" 
 
 of the Church Fathers, ending with an eloquent 
 iteration of the divine command. As yet all is 
 serene. Even those spirits who soon shall un- 
 furl the black banner of rebellion in that " virgin 
 realm of peace" are yet unaware that within 
 their breasts slumbers a passion that, awaking, 
 will fill those holy courts with the tumultuous 
 discord of revolt. 
 
 The ringing echoes of Gabriel's clarion 
 trumpet have scarcely died away, when, through- 
 out the clear hyalijie, millions of angelic choris- 
 ters burst into that sublime hymn of praise — 
 that "anthem sung to harps of gold" — the 
 grandest ever penned : 
 
 " Who is it on His Throne, high-seated ? " 
 
 Triumphant songs and glad hosannahs now 
 float down those " arching voids of empyrean 
 stair." "All that pleaseth God is well" is the 
 devout conclusion of this splendid outburst of 
 celestial praise. Harmony reechoes harmony ; 
 and with this glorious ode of jubilation the act 
 comes to an end. 
 
 THE CLOUD OF CONSPIRACY. 
 
 In the second act, the protagonist first comes 
 on the scene, like a god, 
 
 " With thunder shod, 
 Crowned with the stars, and with the morning stoled." 
 
 172
 
 AN INTERPRETATION. 
 
 He has until now been artfully kept in the 
 background. Drawn by fire-w^inged cherubim, 
 he sweeps into view, and voices, in no uncertain 
 tone, his dissatisfaction with the divine decree. 
 
 Gabriel, the angel of revelation, is with ad- 
 mirable art now placed over against the Stadt- 
 holder. Lucifer would argue — would know the 
 exact nature of Heaven's last decree, Gabriel, 
 however, merely replies to his eager question- 
 ing with a dignified affirmation of God's com- 
 mand, and departs, leaving the divine injunc- 
 tion behind. 
 
 Belzebub, with untiring malignity, now prods 
 the wounded pride of the fiery Stadtholder, and 
 Lucifer again and again blazes into the most 
 intense and bitter defiance. Listen to this 
 speech, seething with the soul of rebellion : 
 
 " Now swear I by my crown upon this chance 
 To venture all, to raise my seat amid 
 The firmament, the spheres, the splendor of 
 The stars above. The Heaven of Heavens shall then 
 My palace be ; the rainbow be my throne ; 
 The starry vast, my court ; while down beneath, 
 The Earth shall be my foot-stool and support ; 
 I shall, then swiftly drawn through air and light, 
 High-seated on a chariot of cloud. 
 With lightning-stroke and thunder grind to dust 
 Whate'er above, around, below doth us 
 Oppose, were it God's Marshal grand himself; 
 Yea, e'er we yield, these empyrean vaults, 
 
 173
 
 THE " LUCIFER :♦» 
 
 Proud in their towering masonry, shall burst, 
 
 With all their airy arches, and dissolve 
 
 Before our eyes ; this huge and joint-racked earth 
 
 Like a misshapen monster lifeless lie ; 
 
 This wondrous universe to chaos fall, 
 
 And to its primal desolation change. 
 
 Who dares, who dares defy great Lucifer ? " 
 
 Surely the spirit of revolt never found fiercer 
 and more poetical expression ! Surely more 
 eloquent and stupendous daring was never 
 uttered than the blasting fulminations of this 
 celestial rebel, who now stands, like a colossus 
 of evil in the realm of good ! 
 
 The leaders of the conspiracy then meet to- 
 gether and hatch their deep, nefarious plot. 
 Lucifer towers magnificent, the controlling 
 spirit in every plan, full of impelling thought 
 and of tremendous action. Apollion, that 
 " master wit with craftiness the spirits to se- 
 duce, " and Belial, whose " countenance, smooth- 
 varnished with dissimulation's hue," knows no 
 superior in deception, at Lucifer's command 
 now sow the seeds of dissension broadcast 
 throughout the Heavens. The dialogue be- 
 tween these two celestial rogues shows great dra- 
 matic skill, and abounds in subtleties worthy of 
 the chief himself. Their whole plan seems to be : 
 
 "Through something specious, 'neath some seeming 
 guised," 
 
 174
 
 AN INTERPRETATION. 
 
 to win first the various chiefs and then the 
 bravest warriors to the standard of the Morning- 
 star; and then with these 
 
 " For all eternity 
 Mankind to lock without the gate of Heaven." 
 
 A high-sounding resolve, 
 
 "That tinkles well in the angelic ear, 
 And flashes like a flame from choir to choir." 
 
 The chorus of good angels again comes on 
 the stage, and with antiphonal harmonies reveals 
 the growing discontent. How eloquently it 
 pictures the serene beauties of Heaven, now 
 tarnished with " mournful mists from darkness 
 driven!" A beautiful and poetic synthesis of 
 the preceding act ! 
 
 THE GATHERING GLOOM. 
 
 In the third act, the Heavens are in a blaze 
 of uproar. The rebellion is now widespread; 
 and revolution is imminent. The whole act 
 is one grand antithesis of the loyal and the 
 seditious angels, or Luciferians, as the latter 
 are called. It is strophe and anti-strophe nearly 
 all the way through. It is argument and coun- 
 ter-argument from beginning to end. 
 
 With wonderful art, our sympathy for the 
 
 175
 
 THE "LUCIFER:" 
 
 rank and file of the rebellious spirits is first 
 awakened. One is made to feel that their dis- 
 affection is genuine and that their sorrow is un- 
 affected. They represent the dissatisfied people, 
 brought to the verge of frenzy by the wily arts 
 of the demagogue ; the howling mob, wanting 
 only the kindling spark to flash into the flame 
 of revolt ; the maddened rabble, waiting for the 
 master-spirit to spur them into open revolution. 
 
 And the master-spirit appears. Belzebub, by 
 his colossal hypocrisy and diabolical cunning, 
 succeeds in drawing them into an incriminating 
 attitude. Michael, austere and magnificent, ap- 
 proaches at this crisis, and these two chiefs 
 are then thrown into admirable juxtaposition. 
 Michael's grandeur has already been foreshad- 
 owed, and his character in every way equals the 
 conception of him that we were led to form. 
 
 Like Lucifer, he is preeminently the incarna- 
 tion of action. He will not argue. He does 
 not appeal. He is a god of battle ; not a 
 divinity of words. He is stern and powerful. 
 He is terse and terribly severe ; and after a few 
 words full of scathing scorn and ominous with 
 threat, he commands the virtuous angels to part 
 at once from the rebellious horde. He then 
 leaves to learn the will of the Most High. 
 
 The disappearance of Michael is the signal for 
 the advent of the head of the rebellion himself. 
 
 176
 
 AN INTERPRETATION. 
 
 Lucifer now comes opportunely to the front. 
 With great art the meeting of the Field-marshal 
 and the Stadtholder has been avoided. Such a 
 meeting would have brought about a premature 
 crisis. The Luciferians, in a splendid burst of 
 appeal, beg the Stadtholder's protection. To 
 this appeal Lucifer replies in a speech that is 
 sublime in its hypocrisy. He professes blind 
 attachment to God, and proceeds to test their 
 sincerity by skillfully opposing questions of 
 prudence and arguments of peace, while at the 
 same time he admits, apparently with great re- 
 luctance, that their grievances are well founded. 
 He hopes, too, that their displeasure will not 
 be accounted as a stain on high, and that God 
 will forgive their righteous resentment. 
 
 When, however, he discovers that they are 
 firm in their determination to obtain their rights 
 by force of arms, that they sincerely desire him 
 as their chief, and that at least one-third of all 
 the spirits are already numbered among the 
 rebels, he throws off his mask, and quickly 
 changes front : 
 
 " Then shall we venture all, our favor lost 
 To the oppressors of your lawful right." 
 
 He now again appears as the imperious prince 
 of revolt, and at Belzebub's solicitation mounts 
 the throne which the latter has meanwhile 
 
 177
 
 THE "LUCIFER:'' 
 
 prepared for him. Belzebub enjoins the hosts 
 to swear allegiance to Lucifer and to his morn- 
 ing-star, which oath is given with a will, and the 
 act is at an end. 
 
 The chorus of Luciferians then extol their 
 leader in an ode breathing defiance and blazing 
 with the flame of rebellion. The clanging tread 
 of a mailed warrior resounds in every line. The 
 note of triumph rings out boldly ; and with pro- 
 fessions of fealty to their chief, and kindling 
 with adoration for his morning-star, they march 
 off the stage. This ode is a curious medley of 
 antique metres, trochees, dactyls, and spondees, 
 attuned to tumultuous emotion. Boldly regu- 
 lar in its classic irregularity, it echoes and re- 
 echoes with the clamor of battle and the shout 
 of revelry. It is a paean keyed in the strident 
 chord of Hell. 
 
 Scarcely have these fiercely jubilant tones 
 died away, when the good angels follow with a 
 plaintive ode of sorrow that is a striking an- 
 tithesis to the passionate outburst of hate with 
 which the air is yet reverberating. 
 
 Strophe and antistrophe proceed in the same 
 mournful iambic measure, in verses sweetly 
 musical with curious rimes, when suddenly in the 
 epode they break into a livelier strain, and in 
 tripping trochaics give voice to an entirely dif- 
 ferent mood — a fiery indignation mingled with 
 
 178
 
 AN INTERPRETATION. 
 
 a deep sense of the grave crisis that threatens 
 the autonomy of Heaven. 
 
 Here, too, is a foreshadowing of the tran- 
 scendent power that shall quell this treason. 
 Nothing can be more original and artistic than 
 these lyrics themselves. Nothing can be more 
 harmonious than their blending with the action. 
 Vondel is never more admirable than here. 
 
 THE SEETHING SEAS OF SEDITION. 
 
 In the fourth act the rebellion has become a 
 conflagration : 
 
 " The whole of Heaven glows with the fierce blaze 
 Of tumult and of treachery." 
 
 Gabriel, winged with command, comes on the 
 scene, and orders Michael, in the name of God, 
 
 " To burn out with a glow of fire and zeal 
 These dark, polluting stains." 
 
 Michael is astounded to learn of the treachery 
 of Lucifer, and, in reply to his inquiries, Gabriel 
 gives a beautiful and pathetic account of the 
 progress of the revolt, and tells how the radiant 
 joy of God became overshadowed with mournful- 
 ness. Michael now summons Uriel, his armor- 
 bearer, to his side, and at once proceeds to put 
 on his armor, at the same time shouting his 
 
 •79
 
 THE '* LUCIFER t** 
 
 orders to his myriad legions around him. In 
 the twinkHng of an eye the celestial host stands 
 in marching array and is rapidly hurried for- 
 ward. 
 
 We are now transported into the hostile 
 camp, where Lucifer is seen questioning his 
 generals as to the number and the disposition 
 of his forces. Belzebub replies with a lucid 
 and highly colored report, saying that the de- 
 serters sweep onward with 
 
 " A rush and roar from every firmament, 
 Like a vast sea aglow with radiant lights." 
 
 Lucifer is much pleased to learn this, and from 
 his throne addresses his flaming squadrons in a 
 speech bristling with warlike reason and full of 
 indomitable courage. 
 
 He fully apprehends the enormity of his 
 offense, and cunningly makes his hearers equal 
 sharers in his guilt. Retreat is now impossible. 
 The celestial Rubicon is crossed. They have 
 already burnt all bridges behind them. " Ne- 
 cessity, therefore," he says, " must be our law." 
 If defeated, God himself cannot wholly annihi- 
 late them ; while if they chance to win, " the 
 hated tyranny of Heaven " shall then be changed 
 into a state of freedom ; nor shall the angels 
 then be forced 
 
 "To pant beneath the yoke of servitude forever." 
 
 1 80
 
 AN INTERPRETATION. 
 
 Once more he demands the oath of alle- 
 giance, and is about to give the command, 
 " Forward ! " when Belzebub espies the beauti- 
 ful figure of Rafael winging his golden way 
 •hrough the crystal empyrean on a mission of 
 nercy. 
 
 Even Belzebub is touched at this unlooked- 
 for sign of angelic affection, and his tone, 
 usually so sarcastic and so severely deliberate, 
 as he announces his advent, is softened to a 
 transient tenderness. For once he has forgot-- 
 ten his usual mocking air, and this exquisite 
 touch does much to relieve the sombre impres- 
 sion of his tremendous malignity. 
 
 Rafael, a celestial St. John, melting with love 
 for the Stadtholder, falls in a paroxysm of grief 
 and tenderness upon his neck. We intuitively 
 feel that some secret bond of sympathy must 
 bind these two angels, so dissimilar in spirit 
 and in character, together. 
 
 Lucifer, overwhelming in passion, gigantic in 
 intellect, resistless in will — magnificent in his 
 whole personality ; Rafael, sublime in devotion, 
 infinite in pity, immaculate in holiness — the 
 apotheosis of all that is beautiful ! Lucifer, 
 whose eyes flash ambition and whose heart 
 flames hate ; Rafael, whose gaze is aspiration 
 and whose soul is love ! The genius of evil and 
 the spirit of virtue ; the proudly wicked and the 
 
 i8i
 
 THE "LUCIFER:" 
 
 meekly good ! The infernal masculine stands 
 confronted by the heavenly feminine ; harsh 
 violence is caressed by loving gentleness, and 
 pride and humility embrace ! Truly a masterly 
 antithesis! 
 
 In a strain of glorious appeal, Rafael begs 
 Lucifer to desist, and first aims at the weakest 
 point in his armor — his pride. How splendid 
 his description of Lucifer's glory ! His former 
 pomp is here artistically pictured to heighten 
 the contrast with his fall. 
 
 He next proceeds to threaten, and gives an 
 equally vivid picture of the horrible punish- 
 ments — " the worm, endless remorse, and ever- 
 during pain " — reserved for him. He then 
 offers his olive branch as a token of divine 
 mercy, and urges immediate acceptance be- 
 fore it is forever too late. Truth offers hope 
 to error on the high-road to despair; peace 
 pours her golden offering at the iron feet of 
 war ! 
 
 Lucifer, proud in his consciousness of strength, 
 as the chosen head of millions of angelic war- 
 riors, one-third of the entire spirit world, is, 
 however, unmoved. He asseverates that he 
 merely wishes to uphold the ancient charter. 
 The standard of revolt is also the banner of 
 right. Duty has called; justice commanded; 
 friendship inspired him to take this step for the 
 
 182
 
 AN INTERPRETATION. 
 
 protection of the celestial Fatherland. He, 
 
 too, then, 
 
 " With necessity, 
 The tyrant's plea, excused his devilish deeds." 
 
 Hear his own words : 
 
 "I shall maintain the holy right, compelled 
 By high necessity, thus urged at length, 
 Though much against my will, by the complaints 
 And mournful groans of myriad tongues." 
 
 Rafael stands aghast at the picture of such 
 hardened wickedness. His hairs rise with fear 
 to hear the Archangel's shameless confession, 
 and he promptly accuses him of ambition and 
 of gross deceit. 
 
 Lucifer, however, indignantly denies this, and 
 proudly asserts that he has always done his full 
 duty. Rafael then reads aloud his evil purpose 
 as it is written in lurid letters on his heart. 
 The astonished chief no longer denies his lust 
 for power, but claims the prerogative of his 
 position as the Stadtholder of God. At last he 
 is brought to the acknowledgment that the 
 ascent of man is the stone upon which his 
 " battle-axe shall whet its edge." 
 
 Rafael, like an angel of light, then pleads with 
 this spirit of darkness in tones of sweetest ten- 
 derness. He stands here like a personified con- 
 
 183
 
 THE "LUCIFER:" 
 
 science. He would be the guardian angel of the 
 great Stadtholder. Not a harsh word escapes the 
 stern lips of the flaming Archangel. His own 
 vast knowledge and his deep heart testify how 
 good are the intentions of his friend. What 
 visions are here called up of the happy days of 
 their friendship, when they basked in the untar- 
 nished splendors of Heaven, before a thought 
 of evil had tolled the funeral knell of peace ! 
 
 Argument after argument, in cumulative 
 progression, falls from the pleader's mellifluous 
 tongue. Lucifer is stern and unyielding. Still 
 Rafael pleads on. For an instant Lucifer 
 falters. Rafael sees his advantage ; and not 
 only again offers him his olive branch, but 
 appoints himself as Lucifer's hostage with God 
 — so sure is he of obtaining mercy. 
 
 Lucifer is almost overcome; but the thought 
 of his morning-star setting in shame and dark- 
 ness, and a vision of his enemies defiant on the 
 throne, still steels his heart in its obstinate 
 resolve. 
 
 Rafael next pictures for him, in lurid colors, 
 the lake of brimstone down below, whose mouth 
 yawns for his destruction. Once more, for the 
 third time, he offers the Archrebel the branch 
 of peace, and promises full grace. 
 
 Lucifer then gives voice to that grand solilo- 
 quy, beginning: 
 
 184
 
 AN INTERPRETATION. 
 
 "What creature else so wretched is as I ? 
 On the one side fliclcer feeble rays of hope, 
 While on the other yawns a flaming horror." 
 
 Here he reveals for the first time his inmost 
 heart. This is the crisis of his career — the 
 chmax of the whole play. Nowhere is the 
 suspense so keen. One wonders how the Arch- 
 angel will decide in this critical moment : 
 
 " This brevity twixt bliss and endless doom." 
 
 His pride of will has in one stroke become a 
 chaos of indecision. We are made to sympa- 
 thize with his terrible anguish, as the logic of 
 his remorse-throbbing conscience leads him to 
 the bitter adversative : 
 
 " But 'tis too late — all hope is past." 
 
 The ominous sound of Michael's battle 
 trumpet rudely awakes him from his revery, 
 and forces him to the stern realization of the 
 impending strife. Just at this moment, also, 
 Apollion soars into his presence with the news 
 of the near approach of God's Field-marshal. 
 
 Lucifer, however, is as yet too agitated, so 
 soon after his sudden apprehension of the 
 enormity of his crime and of the terrible 
 punishment reserved for him in the probable 
 event of his defeat, to respond with alacrity to 
 
 185
 
 THE "LUCIFER:" 
 
 the summons. It is with great difficulty that 
 he rouses himself from his soliloquizing mood. 
 He must think ; but although he feels far more 
 than his followers that 
 
 " The lieavy bolt of war should not be weighed 
 Too lightly," 
 
 and although he well knows that the odds are 
 against him, he has, by the time that his other 
 chieftains approach, quite recovered himself, and 
 at once gives the quick, sharp command of the 
 soldier. The time for action has come. Behind 
 their towering leader, amid the blare of bugles 
 and the trumpet's stirring tones, his serried bat- 
 talions march with waving banners off the stage. 
 
 Of this busy scene Rafael, meanwhile, has 
 been a silent but interested spectator. Now 
 alone in his sorrow, he melts into a compas- 
 sionate monologue ; and, joined by the chorus, 
 gives utterance to that beautiful lyric of grief, 
 that tender prayer so full of the sweet melody of 
 appeal, at the end of the fourth act. Amid the 
 jarring clamor and the frenzied shout of the 
 departing squadrons, this anthem of mercy rises 
 to God like a benediction. Over the passion 
 waves of the tumultuous hell of rebellion around 
 them, their voices tremble like the echoes of 
 a heaven forever lost. 
 
 Surely, the emotion of forgiving compassion 
 
 i86
 
 AN INTERPRETATION. 
 
 was never combined with a more musical sorrow. 
 Here, as in all of Vondel's lyrics, there is a 
 perfect harmony between the form and the 
 thought. 
 
 FLOOD AND FLAME. 
 
 At the opening of the last act, Rafael is 
 discovered on the battlements of Heaven. He 
 is in a fever of anxiety to learn the result of 
 the contest, and peers into the empyrean for 
 some sign of a messenger from the field, 
 
 " Where armies reel on slopes with lightning crowned." 
 
 The glad sounds of approaching triumph fall 
 on his ear. Across the pure hyaline now dart 
 meteoric flashes of light. Each shield of the 
 victorious legions dazzles like a sun : 
 
 " Each shield-sun streams a day of triumph forth." 
 
 Far in advance of the returning battalions 
 speeds Uriel, " Angel with swiftest wing," 
 bearing the message of victory. With in- 
 credible velocity — for he is winged with good 
 news — he flashes through the air, in his " aery 
 wheels " exultingly waving his " flaming, keen, 
 two-edged sword." He has reached the serene 
 altitude of Heaven. He has gained the farthest 
 wall. He is at hand. 
 
 187
 
 THE "LUCIFER:" 
 
 Rafael is full of eagerness to hear the details 
 of the fight, the particulars of " this the first 
 campaign in Heaven." Uriel then, " with 
 sequence just," gives a vivid account of the 
 preparations for battle, beginning with the 
 moment when Gabriel first informed Michael 
 of the defection of the Stadtholder. 
 
 He tells how the countless loyal legions, at 
 their chief's command, deploy themselves in 
 battle line until they form in serried rank 
 
 " One firm 
 Trilateral host that like a triangle 
 Thrust out its edges sharp upon the eye." 
 
 Michael, the Field-marshal, stands in the 
 heart of this triangle, towering high above his 
 fellows, the personification of judgment, 
 
 " With the glow 
 Of lurid lightnings in his lifted hand." 
 
 Splendid is the picture of the infernal host ; 
 their squadrons, 
 
 " Battalion on battalion, riders pale 
 On dim mysterious chargers," 
 
 advance in the form of a crescent moon. Belze- 
 bub and Belial command the two horns of this 
 formidable array, 
 
 " Both standing there in shining panoply, 
 Vying in splendors grand." 
 
 i88
 
 AN INTERPRETATION. 
 
 Lucifer himself holds the centre, "the point 
 strategic " of his army, while Apollion behind 
 him bears on high the lofty standard with its 
 streaming morning-star. 
 
 Rafael, in his excitement, occasionally in- 
 terrupts this graphic description with excla- 
 mations of wonder, and, as the story of the 
 terrible conflict progresses, also with occasional 
 cries of horror and of pity. Great art is shown 
 in the introduction of these exclamatory pauses 
 into the long account of the battle scene. It 
 not only gives the narrator time to get breath, 
 but voices the feelings of the listener, and inten- 
 sifies his suspense. 
 
 Then follows a brilliant account of the Stadt- 
 holder. As the rebel chief is the protagonist, 
 and as the seditious angels furnish the subject 
 matter for the drama, the poet has artistically 
 described them at great length. At last the 
 two armies confront each other. We are now 
 made to see how they 
 
 " Panted for strife and for destruction flamed." 
 
 Then follows the famous battle scene, which 
 must be read in the poet's own thrilling words. 
 Here is action in every line, a battle stroke in 
 each word. 
 
 After the first onset, the celestial legions 
 begin by circling wheels to soar aloft, whence, 
 
 189
 
 THE "LUaFER:" 
 
 like a falcon, they shall soon precipitate them- 
 selves upon their enemies, who, having also risen, 
 but with heavier sail, are likened to a flock of 
 drowsing herons, thrown into sudden consterna- 
 tion by the sight of their dreaded foe. 
 
 Uriel now gives a striking picture of the 
 grand perspective above — the celestial legions, 
 high in the empyrean, arrayed like a shining 
 triangle, the symbol of the Trinity ; far be- 
 neath, the infernal phalanx, gleaming like a 
 crescent on the turbaned brow of night, the 
 sign of the Turk, whose ferocious hordes, even 
 in Vondel's time, were yet thundering at the 
 gate of Christendom. Thus each army hangs: 
 
 "Suspended like a silent cloud, 
 Full weighted 'gainst the balanced air." 
 
 Again the celestial triangle, with terrific force, 
 crashes into the infernal half-moon, and flames 
 of brimstone, red and blue, flash far out into the 
 sky. Thunderbolt on thunderbolt, unchained, 
 leap with angry roar into the surging horde, 
 leaving havoc, ruin, and desolation in their lurid 
 wake. The centre of the half-moon begins to 
 break; and its pointed horns nearly meet to- 
 gether behind the resistless triangle. 
 
 Lucifer performs wonderful feats of valor. 
 High on his blazing chariot, he is a conspicu- 
 ous figure. His fierce team, "the lion and the 
 
 190
 
 AN INTERPRETATION. 
 
 dragon blue," symbolic of pride and envy, 
 enraged by the battle-strokes rained upon their 
 starry backs, fly forward with fearful strides — 
 the lion, with dreadful bellows, biting and rend- 
 ing; while his terrible mate shoots pest-provok- 
 ing poisons from his frothy tongue, and, 
 
 "... Raving, fills the air 
 With smoke blown from his nostrils far and wide." 
 
 On every side the infernal chief is surrounded 
 by his enemies. They try to overpower him 
 with mere numbers. He parries every stroke, 
 or breaks their force upon his shield. He then 
 waves his battle-axe aloft to fell God's glowing 
 banner, when Michael, clad in glittering armor, 
 "like a god amid a ring of suns," suddenly con- 
 fronts him. 
 
 The Archangel sternly calls upon the rebel 
 Prince to surrender. But Lucifer, unmoved, 
 three times with his war-axe strives to cleave 
 the diamond shield of Michael, wherein blazed 
 God's most holy name. The axe rebounds and 
 shivers into fragments ; and we cannot but 
 sympathize with the Archrebel, who is now in 
 a bad plight indeed. The grand catastrophe 
 to which the swift current of his wickedness 
 has been bearing him is at last at hand, re- 
 served with consummate art until the middle of 
 this act.
 
 THE "LUCIFER;" 
 
 Michael lifts his terrible right hand, and 
 through the helmet and head of his disarmed 
 but yet unconquered foe he smites his light- 
 nings, cleaving unto his very eyes. The force of 
 this blow is such that Lucifer is hurled from his 
 chariot, which follows him downward, whirling 
 round and round in its descent : 
 
 "Thus lion, dragon, driver, all plunge down." 
 
 In vain the fierce swarms of warring rebels 
 attempt to stay their chief. Uriel engages 
 Apollion, and succeeds in wresting from him 
 the rebel banner with its morning-star. Belze- 
 bub and Belial still fight on ; but their legions 
 are all confused. The crescent has now become 
 a disorganized mob, 
 
 "And o'er them fell destruction rolls its flood." 
 
 In vain Apollion comes back into the field, 
 reinforced by the monsters from the firmament 
 of Heaven, which may be supposed to typify, 
 as Vondel says in his preface, the abuse of the 
 forces of nature by the Devil to effect his evil 
 designs. 
 
 Orion, shrieking until the very air grows 
 faint, strives to crush the head of the assault, 
 that 
 
 "... Heedless of 
 Orion or his club, moves grandly on." 
 
 >92
 
 AN INTERPRETATION. 
 
 The Northern Bears stand upon their haunches 
 to oppose their brutish strength. The Hydra 
 gapes with poison-breathing throats. But, un- 
 mindful of all these, the triangle still advances. 
 Numerous other episodes, in the meanwhile, are 
 happening along the line of battle; but the 
 suspense is at last over. The victory of the 
 celestial angels is a glorious fact. 
 
 Rafael now gives utterance to exclamations 
 of praise, and asks Uriel concerning the effect of 
 his defeat on the fallen Archangel. Uriel then 
 recounts his terrible punishment, and relates 
 how his splendid beauty was now become, in 
 falling, a complication of seven dreadful mon- 
 sters, typifying the seven deadly sins. That 
 beast, says the narrator, 
 
 " Doth shrink to view its own deformity, 
 
 And veils with darkling mists its Gorgon face." 
 
 The fate of the protagonist being known, 
 Rafael next wishes to learn what became of the 
 rest of the rebel host. Then follows the account 
 of the tumultuous rout, wherein the fleeing 
 hordes, in their descent to Hell, also undergo a 
 metamorphosis into the forms of strange and 
 uncouth monsters. 
 
 At this point the triumphant Michael himself 
 approaches with his victorious legions, laden 
 with glorious plunder. The celestial choristers, 
 
 193
 
 THE "LUCIFER:'' 
 
 strewing their laurel leaves, accompanied by the 
 sound of cymbal, pipe, and drum, now greet 
 him with a song of jubilation which, even more 
 than most of Vondel's lyrics, is peculiar for the 
 intricacy of its rimes. 
 
 " Hail to the hero, hail," they cry. The 
 spirit and liveliness of this paean are emi- 
 nently suited to voice the long pent-up plaudits 
 of the angels. The regularity of this ode, with 
 its rapid melodious swing, is a marked contrast 
 to the strident enthusiasm and the discordant 
 harmony of the chorus of Luciferians at the end 
 of Act III. 
 
 As soon as the joyful reverberations of the 
 battle-hymn have ceased to roll through the 
 interminable arches on high, Michael addresses 
 his legions and the assembled hosts in a speech 
 of great dignity, ascribing the glory of the 
 victory to God alone. He speaks proudly of 
 the spoils of battle, which have already been 
 hung on the bright axis of Heaven. 
 
 " No more shall we," says he, 
 
 " Behold the glow of Majesty supreme 
 Dimmed by the damp of base ingratitude." 
 
 He next pictures the defeated rebels as: 
 
 " . . . All blind and overcast 
 With shrouding mists, and horribly deformed." 
 
 194
 
 AN INTERPRETATION. 
 
 Then he concludes with stern sententiousness: 
 " Thus is his fate who would assail God's Throne," 
 
 which the choristers as gravely repeat. 
 
 The expected catastrophe has occurred, and 
 the terrible conclusion has been described. In 
 the stormy wake of the sad fall of the angels 
 follows the no less sad fall of man — the loss of 
 
 " The primal innocence 'mid Eden's bowers." 
 
 The heaving, seething seas of rebellion, " swol- 
 len to the skies," have, it is true, subsided ; but 
 again they gather momentum for one more 
 wave of disaster, which now breaks upon the 
 shore of Earth, spreading death and desolation 
 throughout the sinless groves of Paradise ; for 
 Gabriel now approaches and hurls into the joy- 
 ful camp a thunderbolt of sad surprise. " Alas ! 
 alas!" he cries, breaking into lamentation, "our 
 triumph is in vain;" and he announces the fall 
 of Adam. 
 
 Michael is astounded, and shudders as he 
 hears the news. With infinite distress he listens 
 to Gabriel's interesting account of how the over- 
 throw was effected. Gabriel first describes the 
 "dim, infernal consistory " far, far below. Here 
 Lucifer called together all his chieftains, who 
 
 now 
 
 " Unto each other turned abhorring gaze." 
 19s
 
 THE "LUCIFER;" 
 
 Then, 
 
 " High-seated 'mid his councillors of state," 
 
 the Archfiend, whose character is now shown 
 in its full development, addressed his followers 
 in words full of bitter rage against God — a 
 striking contrast to the dignity of Michael's 
 address. 
 
 His' heart is now a hell of hate, boiling with 
 passion for revenge. The Heavens must be 
 persecuted and circumvented, and this must 
 be done by the ruin of man. With prophetic 
 eye he pictures his future dominion on earth, 
 and the myriad miseries into which the fall 
 shall plunge mankind. He then promises his 
 fellow-conspirators the future adoration of the 
 human race, when as heathen gods and pagan 
 deities they shall receive the praise of count- 
 less multitudes of men. 
 
 At this point Michael breaks into fierce exe- 
 crations, making a vow of summary and con- 
 dign punishment. Gabriel then continues to 
 relate how Lucifer selected Belial as the most 
 worthy instrument to seduce the happy pair. 
 Belial, taking upon himself the form of the 
 Serpent, succeeds most fiendishly in his unholy 
 mission, first, as in the Biblical account, alluring 
 Eve, who in turn tempts Adam. Their fall 
 and shame and misery are pathetically told. In
 
 AN INTERPRETATION. 
 
 the midst of this sad story the chorus interjects 
 its wail of sympathy, while Gabriel continues by 
 narrating the colloquy of the hapless twain 
 with God. 
 
 Gabriel then gives the woeful details of their 
 penalty, and presents a dismal picture of future 
 wretchedness, against the blackness of which, 
 however, is one bright star — the promise of the 
 Strong One, the Hero who shall crush the Ser- 
 pent's head. 
 
 Gabriel now commands Michael to place all 
 things in their wonted place lest the malicious 
 spirits should " further mischief brew." Michael, 
 the spirit of eternal order, then proceeds to 
 reduce this chaos of evil to final subjection. 
 
 He first sends Uriel down, 
 
 "To drive the pair from Eden who have dared 
 Transgress, so rash and blind, the primal law." 
 
 His duty it is, also, to force mankind 
 
 "To labor, sweat, and arduous slavery." 
 
 He is, furthermore, to act as sentinel over the 
 garden and over the tree of the knowledge of 
 good and evil. 
 
 Ozias is enjoined to capture and securely 
 bind the host of the infernal animals with the 
 lion and the dragon, who so furiously raged 
 
 147
 
 THE ''LUCIFER:" 
 
 against the standard of Heaven. Listen to this 
 stern command : 
 
 "Sweep from the sky these hordes accursed, and bind 
 Them neck and claw, and chain them forcibly." 
 
 Azarias is entrusted with the key of the bot- 
 tomless abyss, wherein he is commanded to 
 lock all that assail the powers of Heaven. To 
 Maceda is given the torch to light the sulphur- 
 ous lake down in the centre of the earth, 
 wherein Lucifer, the evil-breeding protagonist, 
 with poetic justice, so near the scene of his last 
 flagrant crime, is doomed to endless solitary 
 torment ; there, 
 
 ". . . In the eternal fire 
 Unquenchable, with chilling frosts commingled," 
 
 "Amid the bitter blast of memory's regret," 
 
 to suffer the throes of ten thousand hells, and to 
 discover 
 
 " How slow time limps upon a crutch of pain," 
 
 through an eternity of keen remorse. 
 
 For the last time the chorus comes on the 
 stage, echoing in a brief epilogue the one silvery 
 voice of hope that speaks from that dark con- 
 clusion of multitudinous despair. 
 
 It, too, gives promise of a brighter dawn,
 
 AN INTERPRETATION. 
 
 wherein the "grand deliverer" shall cleanse 
 fallen man of the " foul taint original," opening 
 for him a fairer Paradise on high, where the 
 thrones, made vacant by the fall of the angels, 
 shall, as in Caedmon, be filled by the glorified 
 souls of the children of men Thus the specta- 
 tor is left attuned to the triumph of Christ in 
 the promised reconciliation, and the work of 
 redemption is made complete. 
 
 In this noble ending, evil, though not anni- 
 hilated, is controlled; the good is victorious; 
 and Heaven is once more restored to its pristine 
 holiness. The fallen angels, the imperious 
 lords of Heaven, have been succeeded by the 
 lowly third estate, the human worms whom 
 they so much despised. 
 
 Thus here, too, revolution has proved pro- 
 gression. The storm of war has ceased, and 
 above the thunder-mantled sky shines the 
 glorious rainbow of peace. 
 
 THE "LUCIFER" AS A DRAMA. 
 
 Like all of Vondel's dramas, the " Lucifer " is 
 after the Greek model ; and surely that model 
 was never inspiration for a more splendid trag- 
 edy. Vondel's idea of the classic drama was de- 
 rived from the close study of the ancients and 
 their modern Dutch commentators — Heinsius, 
 
 199
 
 THE "LUCIFER:" 
 
 Vossius, Grotius, Barlaeus, and other Latinists 
 of renown. 
 
 The " Lucifer " is a tragedy after Chaucer's 
 own heart : 
 
 " Tragedis is to sayn a certeyn storie, 
 As olde bokes maken us memorie, 
 Of hem that stood in greet prosperity, 
 And is yfallen out of heigh degree 
 Into miserie, and endith wrecchedly." 
 
 There is no death, no blood, no murder. It 
 is the drama of a magnificent ruin ! 
 
 The action of the play, pursuing the straight 
 track of one controlHng purpose, and moving 
 with terrible majesty to the goal of an inevi- 
 table destiny, also makes it a tragedy in the larger 
 dramatic sense. The wonderful characteriza- 
 tion and the overpowering ethical motive also 
 make its application universal. The epico- 
 lyrical quality of this drama, furthermore, gives 
 it a force and cohesiveness unattainable by 
 either epic or lyric. 
 
 True, the " Lucifer " as a drama does not deal 
 with men. However, this is a distinction with- 
 out a difference; for the characters, while they 
 command our awe as divinities not subject to 
 the limitations of this carnal shroud, the body, 
 are yet sufTficiently human to elicit our warmest 
 sympathy.
 
 AN INTERPRETATION. 
 
 It is, moreover, a play full of heart-agitating 
 passion ; and it is addressed, in a most extra- 
 ordinary degree, to the moral nature — the chief 
 function of all tragedy. Here, too, as in the 
 great drama of the universe, the divine law is 
 the first propelling cause of the action. 
 
 The clash of interests and the logical destiny 
 of cause and effect carry the tragic subject 
 without apparent effort to its denouement. 
 The causes are everywhere adequate to produce 
 the effects, and no trivial effects are the result 
 of the huge action ; no mountain is set in travail 
 to bring forth a mouse. The disposition of the 
 characters also conforms to our sense of justice, 
 and their development is everywhere within the 
 range of probability. 
 
 Besides the main theme, ambition, and the 
 chief object, self-aggrandizement, are various 
 incidental themes and objects which naturally 
 arise out of the circumstances and conditions 
 of the play. This is, however, but natural, and 
 only renders the drama more varied and interest- 
 ing ; these little streams of interest being but 
 tributaries to the main stream of the action, 
 contributing to, rather than retarding, its ma- 
 jestic sweep to the Niagara of its catastrophe. 
 
 The drama, though concerning the divine 
 beings of another sphere, conforms, except 
 where tradition or religion has invested these
 
 THE "LUaFER:" 
 
 with extraordinary qualities and powers, to the 
 physical requirements of this, thus making it 
 more probable and the action more dramatic. 
 
 The dramatist is a veritable illusion-weaving 
 magician, leading -the spectator through tor- 
 tuous mazes of expectation into a labyrinth 
 of suspense. The end is reached, and lo ! the 
 path which appeared so bewilderingly crooked 
 is straight and direct, without a turn to its 
 starting point. Everywhere, too, the mind of 
 the reader cooperates with the mind of the 
 poet in his logical appeals to the heart. 
 
 The action, moreover, has its mainspring in 
 error, and ends in showing the natural conse- 
 quences of crime, with a picture of the sin 
 atoned though not unpunished. 
 
 Nowhere is the human interest of this drama 
 lessened by grand scenic displays. These are 
 truly splendid ; but even such sublime proper- 
 ties as the universe affords only heighten the 
 interest by showing that, after all, " the think- 
 ing will " we call the soul is the noblest work of 
 God. As played on the stage, the drama must 
 have had exceedingly simple, though perhaps 
 somewhat costly, accessories. 
 
 Nothing in the play is more admirable than 
 the uninterrupted contrast of thought and the 
 constant antithesis of character. Nothing, fur- 
 thermore, can surpass the inimitable art with
 
 AN INTERPRETATION. 
 
 which the monologue is handled at the critical 
 moments that determine a character, as in 
 Lucifer's soul-revealing soliloquy in the fourth 
 act. Here the action, though still sweeping 
 irresistibly on, seems to be in perfect poise, 
 while the inmost secrets of the heart are laid 
 bare. 
 
 In his dialogue, also, Vondel is simple and 
 direct. The conversation is always used to 
 recall, to suggest, or to display some motive 
 that binds, while, at the same time, it urges, the 
 action. In such scenes, of course, talk is 
 action. 
 
 If art is, as some assert, a thing of propor- 
 tions, then surely this drama is entitled to the 
 highest praise ; for its proportions are irrep- 
 rehensible. If, too, as Ruskin says, " Poe- 
 try is the suggestion by the imagination of 
 noble grounds for the noble emotions," as a 
 poem, also, it is unsurpassed. There are, in- 
 deed, as many definitions of poetry as there are 
 poets. The " Lucifer" is Vondel's definition. 
 
 It is conception that suggests the correlated 
 thought. It is construction that shapes it to 
 the stature of a grand design ; and construction 
 is the highest form of the creative intellect ; for 
 was it not this same power that framed the 
 templed universe out of the scattered fragments 
 of countless millions of stars ? It is in construc- 
 
 203
 
 THE "LUCIFER I ♦' 
 
 tion, the highest requisite of the dramatist, 
 wherein the "Lucifer" is most grand. The 
 architecture of the play is as symmetrical 
 as a beautiful Greek temple. 
 
 There is no obscurity in this classic drama, 
 into which, moreover, the poet has introduced 
 enough of the modern romantic to lend it 
 vivacity and interest. Such a subject could not 
 have been cast save in a classic mould. The 
 romantic drama would not have been equal to 
 the majestic dignity and the stately style de- 
 manded by this sublime theme. 
 
 Each act, with its own subordinate conclu- 
 sion, is followed by a chorus which not only 
 fills the pause, but also intensifies, while at the 
 same time it relieves, the suspense. These 
 choruses, noble melodies of retrospect, are yet 
 charged with the rumbling thunder of the com- 
 ing catastrophe. Each is, as it were, an incar- 
 nate conscience, the concentrated echo of the 
 preceding act, gathering around it the action, 
 and blending harmoniously with it. 
 
 Vondel is one of the few moderns who 
 grasped the fact that the Hellenic drama origi- 
 nated in rhythmic song, and that around the 
 choral ode should gather the action and the 
 interest of the play. His chorus, therefore, act 
 both as singers and as interpreters of the action, 
 relieving the measured tread of stately tragedy 
 
 Z04
 
 AN INTERPRETATION. 
 
 with pauses of musical suspense. Often, also, 
 they break into the dialogue, and act as medi- 
 ators and as moralists. 
 
 The chorus represent the populi of Heaven, 
 and voice the sentiments of the many. The 
 interchange of thoughts between chorus and 
 chorus, and the chorus and the persons, pro- 
 duces variety. To this the swift changes of 
 thought and emotion also contribute. 
 
 Here, also, as in the Greek dramas, we observe 
 the proper subordination of the chorus to the 
 protagonist and the chief characters, and of the 
 lyric to the dramatic elements, while through 
 the whole play the length of the speeches is 
 artfully suited to the character and the situ- 
 ation. Much, too, might be said about Von- 
 del's felicities of rime, his sweet feminine rimes, 
 his stately, sonorous hexameters, his trimeters 
 and tetrameters, his frequent use of the various 
 classic metres, and his admirable shifting of the 
 caesura to suit the feeling of the speaker. 
 
 The three unities are here also carefully 
 preserved, which perhaps was the more easily 
 done on account of the divinity of the charac- 
 ters, to which a celerity of movement was nat- 
 ural not possible to mortals. 
 
 Hence, the time of the whole drama from the 
 inception of the revolt until the final catastro- 
 phe could very probably be included in twenty- 
 
 205
 
 THE " LUCIFER :'» 
 
 four hours. The unity of action we have al- 
 ready spoken of. The unity of place is equally 
 well kept. The " Lucifer," hardly two thou- 
 sand seven hundred lines, including the cho- 
 ruses, conforms also in respect to length to the 
 classic standard. 
 
 The growth of the play is no less wonderful 
 than the characterization, many preparations 
 and conspiracies developing at last into a battle, 
 many scenes into a definite situation ; the num- 
 berless changes of cause and effect at length 
 resulting in a plot full of the force of an action- 
 impelling motive. Thus from the varied com- 
 plexities of circumstance and situation is at last 
 evolved the one controlling purpose. 
 
 A fine antithesis to the turbulent catastrophe 
 is the quiet climax, Lucifer's soliloquy in Act 
 IV. ; where, however, all that precedes is re- 
 solved into one intense situation. The advent 
 of Rafael here, furthermore, is an unforeseen 
 complication to heighten the interest. 
 
 The end, by suggestive reminiscence of the 
 fading perspective of the beginning, unites the 
 commencement with the close, making the 
 drama an organic whole, whose soul is purpose 
 and whose heart is truth. 
 
 The exquisite blending of the action with 
 the characters, each shaping the other, has 
 rarely been equalled. It is the characters, after 
 
 206
 
 AN INTERPRETATION. 
 
 all, that are the chief interest and that control 
 the action. We see here the strange anomaly 
 of a classic play where the individual shapes 
 the action, and is yet conquered by law. 
 
 Here, where the will of a god clashes with 
 the supreme will of the Supreme God, great art 
 is necessary to sustain human interest — to de- 
 lay the interposition of the superior deity until 
 the very close. 
 
 The primary motive, self-exaltation, fails 
 grandly ; yet in its failure it brings into partial 
 fulfilment the secondary motive, the fall of 
 man. True, the logical catastrophe does not 
 occasion surprise. It has all along, as in every 
 tragedy, been foreshadowed by circumstances 
 big with fate. Yet Vondel has added the ele- 
 ment of surprise, and to a remarkable degree, 
 by the introduction of a second catastrophe, 
 the expulsion of Adam from Paradise, the 
 natural result of the first. Thus curiosity and 
 reason only end with the play itself. One by 
 one, too, the various episodes are seen to spring 
 from the action, which, moreover, requires no 
 introduction of antecedent circumstance to set 
 it in motion. 
 
 The ensemble scenes, or groups, a sure test of 
 the great dramatist, are handled in a masterly 
 manner. There is also a delightful retardation 
 which heightens the suspense and delays the 
 
 207
 
 THE "LUCIFER;'* 
 
 catastrophe, until, like an electric cloud, it 
 bursts into the thunder of its own generating. 
 
 Each messenger, in the play, brings vividly 
 before the eye of the spectator the conse- 
 quential scene which he himself has just wit- 
 nessed — of which, perhaps, he has been a 
 part. 
 
 Thus, by the artful use of motive-producing 
 complications, the action, once projected, moves 
 on to its end, where the totality of figures, 
 thoughts, and emotions are drawn into one 
 maelstrom of ruin. 
 
 There is no distraction. There is no swerv- 
 ing from the opening to the catastrophe ; from 
 the catastrophe to the conclusion, the awful 
 retribution. 
 
 As in the tragedy of life, so, too, in this.drama, 
 the innocent suffer through the punishment 
 that overtakes the guilty; witness the sorrow 
 of Rafael and the good angels at the fall of 
 their fellows ; the sin of Adam and Eve, and 
 the doom pronounced upon their innocent 
 descendants. 
 
 The truth of Vondel's poetic conception is 
 seen in the fact that its essential elements are 
 coeval with man and coeternal with the uni- 
 verse. As in Sophocles, we hardly know which 
 most to admire, the balanced proportions of the 
 play, or its general conception. Here, also, we 
 
 208
 
 AN INTERPRETATION. 
 
 often, in a single sentence, find a synthesis of 
 a situation or a character. 
 
 Vondel, moreover, most impressively intro- 
 duces into the ancient Greek form, with its 
 suggestion of an over-ruling destiny, the mod- 
 ern idea of free will. And he does it so ad- 
 mirably that there is no confusion. Simple in 
 its complexity, splendid in its largeness of 
 design, grand in its harmony, magnificent in its 
 whole conception, the drama sweeps irresistibly 
 through the whole gamut of human emotion. 
 
 Such epic breadth and intense lyric concen- 
 tration have rarely been combined in one poem. 
 Such a drama is, indeed, the sum of all the arts ! 
 
 THE CHARACTERIZATION. 
 
 Vondel's devils are no devils, until the last 
 act, when they act no more, but are described. 
 Then truly they are the incarnations of Hell's 
 deepest deviltries, and are as splendid in their 
 malignity as they were formerly superb in 
 their wickedness. 
 
 The sophistries of these evil spirits are 
 scarcely inferior to those in " Faust." They are 
 the meshes of a gigantic delusion woven by the 
 leaders of the conspiracy around the rank and 
 file of the angels, seducing them from bliss to 
 doom. 
 
 209
 
 THE "LUCIFER:" 
 
 Belzebub is the cynic of the play — a com- 
 pound of lago and Mephistopheles. This dark 
 contriver of hellish plots is colossal in his ma- 
 lignity. He is the first in Heaven to make a 
 prurient suggestion. He is more fiend than his 
 noble superior. Sleepless, unrelenting, resource- 
 ful, alert, he conjures motives of evil even from 
 the tender beauty of the primal innocence. He 
 finds the gall of hate even in the sweet flower 
 of Eden's sinless love. His is the deliberating 
 intellect necessary for the Stadtholder's coun- 
 sellor ; and though slowly unfolding the many 
 sides of his malign nature, he is, we feel, evil 
 from the beginning, grandly diabolical. 
 
 Belial, conscienceless and without remorse, is 
 utterly depraved ; a vile seducer, the genius of 
 deceit, who does evil for its own sake ; a useful 
 tool to serve the baser purposes of the chief 
 devil. Apollion has some gleams of goodness 
 in his nature, but is weak, lustful, and easily in- 
 fluenced by the hope of gain — a type of the 
 traitor. All of the devils, and they are the 
 chief characters of the play, may be supposed 
 to represent the different phases of evil ; while 
 the good angels, whose characteristics have been 
 but briefly indicated, show the different attri- 
 butes of the Deity. 
 
 As in the " CEdipus Tyrannus," " the country 
 must be purged," so here, too, the Heavens
 
 AN INTERPRETATION. 
 
 must be cleansed of "this perjured scum," — the 
 rebellious angels. 
 
 We must now proceed to speak of Lucifer : 
 his all-consuming wrath, his ambition, his pride, 
 and infernal energy. These traits are exhibited 
 in gigantic outlines even before his fall. After 
 his defeat, what can be more impressive than 
 his all-enduring Archangelic passion, glorious in 
 its all-defying mood? Not his the wild out- 
 bursts nor the mad ravings of Lear. Every 
 ebullition of his anger is fraught with purpose, 
 and is transmuted into revengeful action. Mind 
 and spirit are, after all, the conquering forces 
 of the universe. Material circumstance and 
 physical environment cannot thwart their de- 
 sign. It is this ennobling consciousness of 
 intellectual power, supplemented by uncon- 
 querable and irresistible will, that makes the 
 magnificence of the personality of Lucifer. 
 Like Milton's Satan, he is, we feel, most near a 
 god when he is most a devil. 
 
 Lucifer, like Macbeth, is not influenced all at 
 once. With a god-Iikc circumspection, he first 
 weighs every atom of probability. However, 
 when the die is cast and the line of rebellion 
 has once been crossed, he fights to the last ditch. 
 
 Lucifer is a sublime egoist — the spirit of 
 negation placed against the limitations of the 
 positive. He is overpowering. No one, even
 
 THE ''LUCIFER:" 
 
 for an instant, dares to dispute his power, not 
 even the grand Michael. His is the uncon- 
 querable Batavian heart. He dominates the 
 entire action, and like a magnet draws all the 
 other characters around him. Though jealousy 
 of man is the animating passion of the lower 
 devils and the excuse of the protagonist him- 
 self, yet we feel that he uses this merely as a 
 stalking horse for his overweening ambition. 
 Lucifer would become God himself. It is an 
 unwritten law of great tragedy that the villain, 
 though a villain, must be admirable. Lucifer, 
 arch-villain that he is, is superb in his construc- 
 tive villany — a very god of evil, with resources 
 at his command formidable enough to make 
 or to mar a world, and yet resulting only in his 
 own undoing. Proud in the consciousness of 
 godlike powers, he thinks, 
 
 " I have a bit of fiat in my soul, 
 And can myself create a little world." 
 
 His confidence, however, proves to be but the 
 fiat of his damnation. 
 
 "There is no fiercer hell than the failure in a 
 great undertaking." Into this hell Lucifer was 
 forever thrust. Yet he is allowed one brief 
 moment of happiness; it is where he proclaims 
 himself a god, and is worshipped by his fol- 
 lowers.
 
 AN INTERPRETATION. 
 
 Lucifer is the prince of thinkers, and a 
 monarch among actors. His is the intellect 
 to plan and to conceive, and the will to exe- 
 cute ; and will is above all the one quality em- 
 phasized. As much as he is in this respect 
 supereminent, so much greater the degree of 
 his guilt. Could the force of this faculty have 
 been better shown than in the picture of the 
 fallen Archangel, where, in the agonies of tor- 
 ture and the throes of expiation, he not only 
 deliberates, resolves, and executes, but even 
 exults, as, culling the bitter sweetness of a 
 hopeless hope from the hell-flower of despair, 
 he rejoices in the fiendish triumph that he 
 knows is but the prelude to everlasting doom? 
 Unlike the unconquerable and torture-racked 
 Prometheus, he allows not one sigh to escape 
 from the depths of his anguish ; not one moan 
 rises from his abysmal despair. Malediction 
 alone can unlock his implacable lips. From even 
 the caverns of Hell he projects his evil genius 
 back into space to accomplish a predetermined 
 revenge. 
 
 Lucifer reasons with Rafael and with 
 Gabriel; but with Michael only war is possible. 
 The two chiefs are too equal in power, too 
 proud, and too warlike to waste time in words. 
 Each, accustomed to command, will brook no 
 authority in the other. The pathos and the 
 
 213
 
 THE " LUCIFER ;'' 
 
 tenderness of Rafael, on the other hand, pre- 
 sent a strong relief to the sombre passions of 
 Lucifer. It is the ethical portraiture of this 
 drama that is its most powerful feature. 
 
 Lucifer, also, in a certain sense, represents the 
 ideal Dutchman — combining in a losing struggle 
 the daring of Civilis and the intellect of Eras- 
 mus with the astuteness and magnanimity of 
 William the Silent — a grand hero in a bad cause ! 
 Lucifer has indeed " set the time out of joint " 
 for Adam's seed ; yet the play also gives prom- 
 ise of the Christ who will again make all things 
 right ; there is here, also, a suggestion of the 
 " Paradise Regained." 
 
 The drama is ended; the thunders have 
 ceased to roll, and are again chained to the 
 chariot of the Deity; the lightnings once more 
 slumber in the bosom of the night. The battle 
 is over, the air is again pure and clear. The good 
 has been exalted ; the bad has been debased. 
 The heart of the spectator, too, has been the 
 scene of the battle of the passions : terror, pity, 
 hope, despair, love, joy, peace have each alter- 
 nated in brief possession. The katharsis of the 
 soul is accomplished. It has been purified of all 
 that is gross and earthly. It has become spirit- 
 ualized. It has become conscious of its wings, 
 thrilled with aspiration for the ethereal and 
 for the stars beyond. 
 
 214
 
 AN INTERPRETATION. 
 
 IS THE "LUCIFER" A POLITICAL ALLEGORY? 
 
 It is maintained by several eminent Dutch 
 critics that the " Lucifer " is a poHtical alle- 
 gory like the " Palamedes " and several other 
 tragedies of Vondel. 
 
 Some of these literati have displayed consid- 
 erable ingenuity in their attempt to prove that 
 it typifies the struggle of the Netherlands 
 against Spain ; Orange corresponding to Luci- 
 fer, Philip II. to God, Alva to Michael, the 
 Cardinal Granvelle to Adam. 
 
 Many of the situations of the play bear out 
 this analogy. Lucifer, like Orange, was the 
 idol of his followers. Both desire to change a 
 hated tyranny to a state of freedom. Both 
 speak grandiloquently of a charter disannulled 
 and of ancient privileges violated. 
 
 The simile of the sea dashing in vain against 
 the rock in the battle-scene of the "Lucifer" may 
 be supposed to illustrate the device of Orange : 
 " Scevis tranqiiilliis in widish The crescent 
 array of the rebels may refer to the shibboleth 
 of the water-beggars: "Rather Turk than 
 Papist." 
 
 The lion and the dragon that draw the 
 chariot of the Archfiend are also blazoned upon 
 the crest of the two provinces, Holland and 
 Zealand, which were the chief supporters of 
 
 2IS
 
 THE "LUCIFER:" 
 
 Orange. The medley of seven beasts into 
 which Lucifer, in falHng, was changed, may be 
 taken to represent the seven Northern prov- 
 inces that became the Dutch RepubHc, while 
 the Southern provinces, which remained loyal to 
 Spain, nearly two-thirds of the whole number, 
 may be typified by the faithful angels. 
 
 Lucifer renewed the fight three times; so did 
 Orange. Both pretended to fight ^' pro lege, 
 rege, et grege!' 
 
 In that age, before successful revolutions had 
 established a precedent, no revolt could hope 
 for success unless by conforming to the maxim 
 "the king can do no wrong" — a cardinal prin- 
 ciple in every religion of that day. By this 
 political fiction rebels professed to fight for the 
 king, though really fighting against him. Von- 
 del pictured his revolt after these examples, 
 the most prominent of which was the revolt 
 of his own country against Philip IL Lucifer, 
 however, fell, and Orange triumphed ; though 
 the assassination of the latter might be taken as 
 equivalent to a fall. Lucifer accomplished the 
 fall of Adam, even as Orange brought about the 
 expulsion of Granvelle. Alva, like Michael, fur- 
 thermore, received the charge " to burn out 
 with a glow of fire and zeal " the polluting stains 
 of heresy. Egmont and Montigny, like Gabriel 
 and Rafael, acted as ambassadors. 
 
 216
 
 AN INTERPRETATION. 
 
 The cause of the jealousy of the Netherland- 
 ers, as in the " Lucifer," was the fact that greater 
 privileges were accorded to foreigners (the 
 Spaniards) than to the hereditary princes of 
 the land. As in the drama Gabriel's proclama- 
 tion is followed by protest and rebellion, so in 
 the Netherlands the unjust edicts of Philip were 
 the primary cause of revolt. 
 
 It was the sworn duty of the Stadtholder, 
 William of Orange, even as of the Stadtholder 
 Lucifer, to maintain the laws of his superior. 
 Orange also held a position similar to that of 
 Lucifer. He was the favorite of Charles V., 
 Stadtholder of Holland, and Knight of the 
 Golden Fleece. Each placed himself at the 
 head of the disaffected at their earnest impor- 
 tunity. Each was accused of ambition. Each 
 accomplished his designs by Machiavelian 
 methods, and attained a brief exaltation. 
 
 Cardinal Granvelle, who held a position simi- 
 lar to Adam in the drama, was, like him, of low 
 descent ; and was honored with greater privi- 
 leges than even the nobles themselves, who 
 hated him intensely. The opponents of the 
 Cardinal changed the liveries of their servants 
 into motley to mock him ; so, also, we hear 
 Lucifer say to his minions : 
 
 " Lay off your morning rays and wreaths of light." 
 
 217
 
 THE '' LUCIFER :'' 
 
 The nobles complained of the presence of 
 Spanish troops in the land ; so the Luciferians 
 speak of "Adam's life-guard, many thousand 
 strong." The arguments of the drama were also 
 the arguments advanced by the several parties 
 in the Dutch revolt. 
 
 The three hierarchies of Heaven in the " Lu- 
 cifer " correspond to Margaret's three Councils 
 of State. Lucifer, though described as nighest 
 to God, belonged only to the third rank of the 
 hierarchies; just as Orange, though first among 
 the Dutch noblemen, and next to Philip n.,was 
 yet subject to the State as Stadtholder. 
 
 Brederode, as the head of the aristocrats who 
 went with supplications to Margaret of Parma, 
 bears a close analogy to Belzebub, where the 
 latter says to the Luciferians, 
 
 " With prayers ye first and best might gain your end," 
 
 and where, too, he expresses his willingness to 
 act as mediator. In this scheme, furthermore, 
 Apollion would represent Louis of Nassau, and 
 Belial, Marnix St. Aldegonde. 
 
 Others see in the drama the career of the 
 great Wallenstein, the ambitious Generalissimo 
 of the Thirty Years' War. In his envy of the 
 son of his emperor, and in his desire to place 
 the crown of Hungary on his own head, an 
 
 2l3
 
 AN INTERPRETATION. 
 
 analog}' is suggested to Lucifer's attitude to 
 Adam. Even as the celestial rebels swore their 
 chief allegiance, so, too, his generals, after the 
 reverse of Pilsen, when his enemies wished to 
 deprive him of his command, swore him faith 
 and fealty. 
 
 Vondel, it is asserted, v.as conscious of this 
 when he dedicated this drama to Ferdinand the 
 Third, Emperor of Austria, who was no other 
 than the intended King of Hungary w'ho had 
 aroused the envy of Wallenstein, and whose 
 succession to the crown had been so much 
 endangered by the lattcr's treachery. 
 
 But there is yet another view^ of the subject, 
 which has even more show of probability than 
 either of the others. It is supposed by many that 
 the " Lucifer" was intended to represent the 
 English Rebellion of 1648. Lucifer in this anal- 
 ogy is supposed to represent Cromwell, whom 
 Vondel hated so bitterly and against whom he 
 thundered such tremendous invective. Indeed, 
 there are some external circumstances in sup- 
 port of this theory. Speaking of his lampoons 
 on the great English rebel, the poet says that 
 they were written the same year that he 
 " taught Lucifer his role to play." He also says 
 elsewhere that the " Lucifer " was presented, 
 
 "Forsooth, as edifying lore, 
 Wherein proud England hath much store." 
 219
 
 THE " LUCIFER :•» 
 
 If the last supposition be true, the drama is 
 remarkable as prophesying the fall of the Com- 
 monwealth, and the Restoration. It would then, 
 moreover, not be uninteresting to compare it 
 with Dryden's " Absalom and Achitophel," in 
 which Oliver Cromwell is also one of the chief 
 characters. 
 
 THE INTERPRETATION. 
 
 Yet we cannot believe that the "Lucifer" is 
 a political allegory. Vondel was no more the 
 poet of the " Palamedes." Those thirty years 
 had wonderfully developed his art. Nor is it an 
 idyllic allegory like the " Comus; " but, like the 
 " Divina Commedia," an allegory of the world. 
 Yet behind the characters of the sacred legend 
 we may also see the national heroes, Siegfried, 
 Beowulf, Civilis, Orange. 
 
 The " Lucifer" represents the gigantic and 
 eternal battle of evil with good, with the uni- 
 verse as the battle-field — a type of the unending 
 conflict in which the good finally conquers. We 
 see here the Oriental imagination curbed by the 
 reason of the Occident — the cold, statuesque 
 Greek form aglow with the blazing Hebrew 
 soul. The flaming Seraph of Christianity, winged 
 with truth and armed with the lightning sword 
 of Jehovah and the blasting thunderbolts of
 
 AN INTERPRETATION. 
 
 Jupiter, sweeps triumphant through the whole 
 drama. Right prevails; wrong is overthrown. 
 
 The " Lucifer" is a theory of existence, a 
 scheme of the universe. It is the revolt of the 
 aspiring ideal against the invincible actual. 
 It is the material against the spiritual ; the 
 unknown rendered comprehensible by the sym- 
 bolism of the known. 
 
 " From shadowy types to truth ; from flesh to spirit " 
 
 — this is the order of its progression. 
 
 It is the revolution of the speculative against 
 the rule of dogma ; an impassioned contempla- 
 tion of life, in which the whole gamut of human 
 feelings is harmoniously sounded ; in which 
 every link in the chain of causation is struck 
 into the music of its meaning; in which the 
 past and the future are mirrored in the present. 
 
 It is the struggle of a soul against the un- 
 changeable environment of fate ; the drama of 
 the collective human soul aspiring from a chaos 
 of unrest to the unattainable peace of absolute 
 truth. 
 
 Furthermore, the tragedy typifies the charac- 
 ter of the Hollanders themselves ; a people who, 
 as Charles V. once remarked, made " the best of 
 subjects, but the worst of slaves ; " a nation that 
 has ever been in revolt, not only against man,
 
 THE "LUCIFER;'* 
 
 but even against the sublime forces of nature; 
 a race that has never known defeat. 
 
 The Batavians, who under Claudius Civilis 
 carried on a successful rebellion against the all- 
 conquering eagles of Rome — the only Germans 
 who never bowed beneath the Latin yoke — 
 and their Saxon descendants, who were the 
 strongest foes of the territorial aggressions of 
 Charlemagne, were all flamed with the same 
 unconquerable spirit. It was this spirit, too, 
 that enabled the Hollanders of the seventeenth 
 century, after more than eighty years of terrible 
 conflict, to free themselves alike from the grind- 
 ing oppression of Spain and the still more 
 oppressive coils of religious tyranny. 
 
 The Dutch struggle itself was a terrific drama, 
 of which William the Silent was the protago- 
 nist, and liberty the one controlling purpose that 
 animated every character, that impelled every 
 action. It was the details, the reasons, the ar- 
 guments, and the conditions of this stupendous 
 struggle that were before the poet's mind when 
 he wrote this tragedy. 
 
 The " Lucifer," though a symbolic sketch of 
 the age which preceded it, is essentially a drama 
 embodying the spirit of the time in which it 
 was created. It is a reflex of the life of that 
 epoch, the embodiment of the soul conscious- 
 ness of the " storm and stress " period of Von-
 
 AN INTERPRETATION. 
 
 del's own life. He himself was in perpetual 
 revolt against the universal practices of his age. 
 
 Is it a wonder that men, seeing in it not only 
 a picture of themselves, but also of their time, 
 were at once attracted by its significance? 
 
 The Titanic imagination of the "Nibelungen" 
 and the tremendous imagery of "Beowulf" 
 were both the inevitable expression of the 
 tumultuous soul of the Teuton, conscious of 
 a great destiny. This was in the dawn of the 
 nation's childhood. 
 
 We next view the race in the pride of its 
 glorious youth, rousing itself, after the sleep 
 of centuries, to gigantic action. From that 
 age sprang the " Lucifer." 
 
 We then see it in the maturity of noble, reflect- 
 ing manhood, whose years have given dignity and 
 strength. " Faust " stands before us as its full 
 expression. And Vondel and Goethe are each 
 the " Seeing Eye " that pierced the hidden mys- 
 tery of his time. Each in his own way solved 
 the world riddle. 
 
 Like "Faust," the " Lucifer " is "ever more 
 a striving towards the highest existence." True, 
 the striving hero has here been hurled to the 
 depths of the lowest abyss; yet is not his motive 
 also the animating spirit of the race, ever on- 
 ward and upward towards the unattainable? 
 
 Like the defeated Lucifer in Hell, the Teuton 
 
 2J3
 
 THE ''LUCIFER.'^ 
 
 is ever evolving courage for a new attempt, 
 fired with the hope that never despairs. 
 
 " Siegfried," " Beowulf," and " Lucifer," all 
 typify the Anglo-Saxon spirit of revolt, that 
 love of freedom and that strong individualism 
 which has always been the distinguishing charac- 
 teristic of the Low Germans. 
 
 Of the " Lucifer," therefore, it may truly be 
 said, it is the biography of a national soul. 
 
 Translator. 
 
 224
 
 f
 
 f
 
 Bibliograpby of Uondelian Eiterature. 
 
 JOOST VAN DEN VONDEL, SEIN LEBEN UND SEINE 
 WERKE. Von A. Baumgartner, S. J. Freiburg-im- 
 Breisgau, 1882. Pages 344-347, synopsis of Vondel's 
 works. 
 
 Bibliography of Vondel's Works. J. H. W. lin- 
 ger. Amsterdam, 1888 (Frederic MuUer & Co.). All 
 editions of the " Lucifer" are here mentioned. This vol- 
 ume is in the library of Columbia University. 
 
 For the student we would recommend the excellent 
 little edition of the "Lucifer" edited by N. A. Cramer 
 (1891). Price 40 cents. Publisher, W. E. J. Tjeenk Wil- 
 link, Zwolle, Holland. 
 
 Biography of Vondel. By Brandt. \V. E. J. 
 Tjeenk Willink, Zwolle. 
 
 Biography of Vondel. By Dr. G. Kalff. W. E. J. 
 Tjeenk Willink, Zwolle. 
 
 We also heartily recommend the following studies by 
 Dr. Kalff : "The Literature and Drama of Amsterdam 
 during the Seventeenth Century ;" " The Sources of Von- 
 del's Works," in vol. xii. of Oud Holland (magazine) ; 
 "Vondel as Translator," in Tydschrift (magazine) Voor 
 Nederlandsche Taal en Letterkunde (1894); " Von- 
 del's Self-Criticism," same magazine (1895) ; "Origin and 
 Growth of Vondel's Poems," same magazine (1896). 
 
 Vondel and Milton. August Muller. 1864. 
 
 Uber Milton's Abhanoigkeit von Vondel. Ber- 
 lin, 1 891. 
 
 227
 
 ^ 
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY. 
 
 Milton and Vondel : A Curiosity of Literature. 
 George Edmundson, ALA. Triibner & Co., London, 1885. 
 
 Vondel and Milton. Edmund W. Gosse. "North- 
 ern Studies." Also in " Littell's Living Age," vol. cxxxiii., 
 page 500 ; and in the " Academy," vol. xxxviii., page 613. 
 
 David Haek (1854). JUSTUS voN DEN Vondel : ein 
 betrag zur geschichte des Niederlandischen schriftthums. 
 Hamburg, 1890. 
 
 Works of Vondel, twelve volumes, in association 
 with his life, by Jacob van Lennep. 
 
 Vondel's Lucifer. Agnes Repplier. "Catholic 
 World," vol. xlii., page 959. 
 
 22S
 
 Parallelisms 
 Between Uondel and IHilton. 
 
 Since Mr. Edmundson's book is out of print, we have 
 been asked to give a list of his parallelisms between the 
 "Lucifer" and Milton. This will give the student the 
 benefit of his comparisons. 
 
 Lucifer 
 
 , Act I. 
 
 
 Para 
 
 DiSE Lost 
 
 Line 
 
 13 . 
 
 . Book III., line 741. 
 
 (f 
 
 22 . 
 
 1 f 
 
 • • 
 
 jv., . 
 Ui., 
 
 ' 266-272 
 ' 1012. 
 
 it 
 
 35 . 
 
 • • 
 
 v., ' 
 
 ' 426. 
 
 i< 
 
 52 . 
 
 (1 
 • • 
 
 (VIIl., ' 
 
 Ix.. • 
 
 ' 107. 
 ' 85. 
 
 «« 
 
 57 . 
 
 (( 
 
 11.. 
 
 ' 104-105 
 
 *f 
 
 61 . 
 
 (( 
 
 IV., 
 
 ' 227. 
 
 i( 
 
 63 . . 
 
 It 
 
 • • 
 
 IV., ' 
 
 ' 233. 
 
 It 
 
 64. . 
 
 11 
 
 • • 
 
 III.. 
 
 ' 554. 
 
 If 
 
 73 . 
 
 (( 
 
 IV., ' 
 
 ' 225. 
 
 it 
 
 78 . . 
 
 tt 
 
 • • 
 
 VII.. ■ 
 fVII., ' 
 ] VIL, ' 
 ( IV., • 
 
 ' 577- 
 * 3^7. . 
 
 tt 
 
 85-95 . 
 
 tt 
 
 • 333- 
 
 
 
 
 ' 644. 
 
 tt 
 
 107 . 
 
 tt 
 
 IV.. 
 (V., ' 
 
 ' 340. 
 7. 
 
 <i 
 
 115 . 
 
 tt 
 
 IV., . 
 (IV., • 
 
 ' 642. 
 ' 238. 
 
 229
 
 PARALLELISMS. 
 
 f 
 
 Lucifer, Act L- 
 
 -Continued. 
 
 Paradise Lost 
 
 Line 131 . 
 
 . Boo 
 
 Mix.. 
 
 line 
 
 : 360-365 
 
 457- 
 
 " 134 . 
 
 It 
 
 • • ■ 
 
 VIL. 
 
 tt 
 
 505-511 
 
 " 158 . 
 
 • • • 
 
 (V.. 
 1 IV.. 
 
 ft 
 
 tt 
 
 ^37- 
 689. 
 
 " 174 . 
 
 tt 
 
 • • • 
 
 ( IV.. 
 
 Uv.. 
 
 tt 
 
 288-306 
 496. 
 
 " 180 . 
 
 a 
 
 IX.. 
 
 tt 
 
 450-460. 
 
 " 192 . 
 
 it 
 
 ■ • • 
 
 IX.. 
 
 1 1 
 
 489. 
 
 " 193-195 
 
 it 
 
 IX.. 
 
 tt 
 
 460-470 
 
 " 199 • 
 
 It 
 
 IV.. 
 
 tt 
 
 304-306 
 
 " 203 . 
 
 It 
 
 VIII. 
 
 It 
 
 40-50. 
 
 " 260 . 
 
 tt 
 
 IIL, 
 
 tt 
 
 276-290 
 
 " 268 . 
 
 It 
 
 • * • 
 
 ( IIL. 
 1 III.. 
 
 tt 
 
 313-317 
 323-333 
 
 " 280 . 
 
 11 
 • ♦ • 
 
 v., 
 
 1 1 
 
 602. 
 
 " 326 . 
 
 tt 
 
 * • • 
 
 v.. 
 
 tt 
 
 429. 
 
 " 330 . 
 
 It 
 • • • 
 
 X., 
 
 1 1 
 
 660-670 
 
 " 364 . 
 
 tt 
 ■ • • 
 
 III., 
 
 t( 
 
 382. 
 
 Lucifer, Act IL 
 
 
 Paradise Lost 
 
 Line 22 , 
 
 . Book v.. 
 
 line 
 
 787-792. 
 
 •• 108 . 
 
 I 
 
 
 f ( 
 ( i 
 
 94-98. 
 106-11 I 
 
 110 . 
 
 118 
 
 •♦ 176-180 
 
 Paradise Regained. 
 Book III., line 201-211. 
 
 Paradise Lost. 
 
 Book I.. line 261-263. 
 
 f III.. " 380-382. 
 
 VIII.. " 65-67. 
 
 MIL, " 71-75. 
 
 [VIII., " 168-170. 
 
 230
 
 PARALLELISMS. 
 
 Lucifer, Act II. 
 Line 197 . 
 
 " 343 . 
 " 367 . 
 
 " yii . 
 
 " 405 . 
 
 ■ Continued. Paradise Lost. 
 
 . Book v., line 810-825. 
 
 Lucifer 
 
 , Act III 
 
 Line 
 
 120 . 
 
 <( 
 
 238 . 
 
 i( 
 
 572 . 
 
 Lucifer 
 
 , Act IV 
 
 Line 
 
 10 . 
 
 it 
 
 43 • 
 
 tt 
 
 120-155 
 
 it 
 
 186 . 
 
 tt 
 
 207 . 
 
 it 
 
 251 . 
 
 n 
 
 258 . 
 
 ** 
 
 351 . 
 
 tt 
 
 370 . 
 
 tt 
 
 410 . 
 
 " 421 . 
 
 Lucifer, Act V. 
 Line 3 . 
 " 4 . 
 
 7 . 
 
 8 . 
 
 IV.. ' 
 
 ' 1010-1012 
 
 11., ' 
 
 188-191 
 
 11.. • 
 
 130-132 
 
 n., ' 
 
 343-346 
 
 .v.. • 
 
 ' 254. 
 
 n.. ' 
 
 110-112 
 
 I., ' 
 
 490. 
 
 Paradise Lost. 
 Book X., line 1045. 
 " v., " 617-627. 
 " v., " 708-710. 
 
 Paradise Lost. 
 Book v., line 708-710. 
 
 " VI., 
 
 " 56-59- 
 
 " v.. 
 
 " 772-802 
 
 " III., 
 
 •' 383-389 
 
 " III., 
 
 " 648. 
 
 " IV., 
 
 " 393- 
 
 " II.. 
 
 " 188-194 
 
 " IV., 
 
 " 391-394 
 
 Paradise Regained 
 
 Book IV., 
 
 line 518-520 
 
 " III., 
 
 " 204. 
 
 Paradise Lost 
 
 Book VI., 
 
 line 540. 
 
 Paradise Lost 
 
 Book VI.. 
 
 line 200-206 
 
 " VI., 
 
 " 305. 
 
 *• VI., 
 
 " 320-323 
 
 " VI., 
 
 " 250 253 
 
 231
 
 PARALLELISMS. 
 
 Lucifer 
 
 , Act v.— Con 
 
 tinned. Paradise Lost. 
 
 Line 
 
 29 . 
 
 . Book IV.. 
 
 line 
 
 556-557- 
 
 
 43 . 
 
 " VI., 
 
 
 44-53- 
 
 
 54 . 
 
 " VI., 
 
 
 61-63. 
 
 
 65 . . 
 
 . . " VI., 
 
 
 85-87. 
 
 
 70 . 
 
 " IV., 
 
 
 977-980. 
 
 
 85-88 . 
 
 " I., 
 
 
 533-540. 
 
 
 94-100 . 
 
 " VI., 
 
 
 99-110. 
 
 
 97 . 
 
 . . " XL, 
 
 
 240-241. 
 
 
 lOI . 
 
 " VI.. 
 
 
 754-755- 
 
 
 103 . 
 
 " VI., 
 
 
 848-849. 
 
 
 105 . 
 
 . . " I., 
 
 
 286. 
 
 
 Ill . 
 
 .. \ L, 
 
 ■ ■ h.. 
 
 
 84-87. 
 
 
 
 
 588-590. 
 
 
 114 . 
 
 . . " v.. 
 
 
 833-845. 
 
 
 115 . 
 
 -, \ VI.. 
 
 • • Wi., 
 
 
 68-71. 
 105-107. 
 
 
 124 . 
 
 .,1 VL, 
 • • ( VI., 
 
 
 203-219. 
 
 546. 
 
 1 
 
 128 . 
 
 " VI., 
 
 
 310-315- 
 
 
 '" 
 
 Paradise Regained. 
 
 it 
 
 155-161 . 
 
 . Book IV., 
 
 line 
 
 18-25. 
 
 
 
 Paradise Lost. 
 
 
 
 164 . . 
 
 . Book VI., 
 
 line 
 
 200-205. 
 
 
 
 195 . . 
 
 " IV., 
 
 
 1000. 
 
 
 
 235 ■ . 
 
 " VI., 
 
 
 246-255. 
 
 
 
 255 . . 
 
 " VI., 
 
 
 275-278, 
 
 
 
 269 . 
 
 " VI., 
 
 
 324. 
 
 
 
 275 . . 
 
 " VI., 
 
 
 390- 
 
 
 
 290 . 
 
 " L, 
 
 
 305- 
 
 
 
 308 . . 
 
 ,. \ X.. 
 
 Ix.. 
 
 
 449-454. 
 511-529. 
 
 232
 
 Lucifer, Act V. 
 Line 320 . 
 " 328 . 
 " 345 . 
 
 PARALLELISMS. 
 
 — Continued. 
 
 Paradise Lost. 
 Book X., line 510-520. 
 
 " X. " 539-545- 
 
 " X., " 510-520. 
 
 347 
 
 Paradise Regained. 
 Book IV., line 423. 
 
 353 
 410 
 
 412 
 
 Paradise Lost. 
 
 Book VI., line 884-886. 
 
 I., " 300-310. 
 
 " X.. " 538-545. 
 
 
 Paradise Regained. 
 
 " 416 . . 
 
 . Book I. 
 
 , line 
 
 39-42. 
 
 
 ] 
 
 Paradise Lost. 
 
 " 417 . . 
 
 . Book I., 
 
 line 
 
 192-195. 
 
 " 419 • . 
 
 . . " II., 
 
 
 1-5- 
 
 " 426 . . 
 
 ■ • iJ: 
 
 
 120-122. 
 
 
 
 178-189. 
 
 " 431 . . 
 
 ..in., 
 liii. 
 
 
 362-375. 
 
 
 
 90-96. 
 
 " 433 . . 
 
 . . " IX.. 
 
 
 130-134. 
 
 " 455 . . 
 
 " X., 
 
 
 637. 
 
 " 448 . . 
 
 " XI. 
 
 
 500-513. 
 
 " 457 . . 
 
 " I., 
 
 
 1>(^1-31?>. 
 
 " 461 . 
 
 " L, 
 
 
 381-390. 
 
 " 488 . . 
 
 . . " IX. 
 
 
 575-581. 
 
 " 492 . . 
 
 " IX. 
 
 
 716-732. 
 
 " 494 . . 
 
 . . " IX., 
 
 
 685-687. 
 
 " 499 . . 
 
 " IX., 
 
 
 679-683. 
 
 " 500 . 
 
 " IX., 
 
 
 732-743. 
 
 233
 
 PARALLELISMS. 
 
 Lucifer, Act V 
 Line 509 . 
 
 ' 519 • 
 
 ' 537-545 
 ' 553 • 
 • 560 . 
 
 ' 564 . 
 
 ' 604 . 
 
 ' 604 . 
 
 ' 606 . 
 
 ' 616-627 
 
 ■ Continued. Paradise Lost. 
 
 Book IX., line 1090-1095. 
 ., j IX.. •' 780-783. 
 ( IX., " 1000-1003. 
 " Last of Book IX. 
 " X., line 1051-1055. 
 
 X.. 
 
 " 498-499 
 
 XII., 
 
 " 386. 
 
 IL, 
 
 " 595-600 
 
 L. 
 
 " 56-63. 
 
 X., 
 
 112. 
 
 Suggestion of Paradise Regained. 
 
 Note. — (i) The -vior A feather^ line 370, Act I., is here used by Vondel 
 in the old sense ai pen. 
 
 (2) The word treason in the epode of the chorus of angels at the end 
 of Act III. more literally means treasonable ambition. 
 
 834
 
 ** Praccipitcmque immani turbine adegit'* 
 
 3. van bonders 
 
 Euclfer 
 
 E tragedy 
 
 1654
 
 to tbe Invincible Prince ana Cord, 
 tbe Cord Terdinand the Cbird, 
 elected emperor of Rome, Per- 
 petual Tncreaser of tbe Empire. 
 
 S the Divine Majesty is throned amid 
 unapproachable splendors, so, too, the 
 Sovran Powers of the world, which 
 owe their lustre to God, and arc 
 made in the image of the Godhead, are seated on 
 high, crowned with glory. But as the Godhead, 
 or, rather, the Supreme Goodness, favors the least 
 and most humble with access to His throne, so, 
 too, doth the temporal power deem its most in- 
 significant subject worthy to kneel reverentially at 
 its feet. 
 
 Inspired with this hope, my muse is encouraged 
 
 239
 
 1 
 
 VONDEL'S 
 
 from afar to dedicate to your Imperial Majesty this 
 Tra§:edy of Lucifer, whose style demands a most 
 liberal degree of that gravity and stateliness of 
 which the poet speaks : 
 
 " Omne genus script! gravitate Tragoedia vincit." 
 
 " Sublime in style and deep in tone, 
 The tragic art doth stand alone." 
 
 Though whatever of the requisite sublimity may 
 be wanting in the style will be compensated by the 
 subject of the drama, and the title, name, and emi- 
 nence of the personage who, the mirror of all 
 ungrateful and ambitious ones, doth here invest 
 the tragic scene, the Heavens ; from which he, 
 who once presumed to sit by the side of God, and 
 thought to become His equal, was cast, and justly 
 condemned to eternal darkness* 
 
 This unhappy example of Lucifer, the Arch- 
 angel, and at one time the most glorious of all the 
 Angels, has since been followed, through nearly 
 all the centuries, by various rebellious usurpers, of 
 which both ancient and modern histories bear wit- 
 ness, showing how violence, cunning, and the wily 
 plots of the wicked, disguised beneath a show and 
 
 pretext of lawfulness, are idle and powerless so 
 
 240
 
 DEDICATION. 
 
 longf as God's Providence protects the anointed 
 Powers and Dynasties, to the peace and safety of 
 divers states, which, without a lawful supreme 
 head, could not exist in civil intercourse. There- 
 fore, God's Oracle Himself, for the good of man- 
 kind, by one word identified the Sovran Power 
 as His own, when He commanded that to God 
 and to Caesar should be rendered the things that 
 to each were due. 
 
 Christendom, so often attacked on every side, 
 and at present beset by Turk and Tartar, like 
 unto a ship on a stormy sea, in danger of ship- 
 wreck, demands to the highest degree this univer- 
 sal reverence for the Empire, that thereby the 
 hereditary foe of Christ's name may be repulsed, 
 and that the Realm and its frontiers may be 
 strengthened and rendered safe against the incur- 
 sions of his savage hordes ; wherefore it behooves 
 us to praise God that it pleased Him to continue 
 the Authority and the Crown of the Holy Roman 
 Empire, at the last Imperial Diet, before his 
 father's death, in the son, Ferdinand the Fourth, 
 a blessing which has filled so many nations with 
 courage, and which causes the tragic trumpet of 
 our Netherland Muse to sound more boldly before 
 
 the throne of the High Germans concerning the 
 
 241
 
 DEDICATION. 
 
 vanquished Lucifer, borne along in Michael's 
 
 triumph. 
 
 Your Imperial Majesty's 
 
 Most humble servant, 
 
 J. V. VONDEL, 
 
 Jhfc^^. 
 
 242
 
 On m Portrait of Bis Imperial 
 majesty, Terdinana the Cbira. 
 
 When Joachim Sandrart van Stokou, out of Vienna, 
 in Austria, honored me with his Majesty's portrait, 
 adorned with festoons and other ornaments. 
 
 Deiis nobis haec otia fecit. 
 
 HE Sun of Austria uplifts his glorious 
 fays 
 From shadow-glooms of art to bless 
 
 each wondering eye. 
 Behold him on his throne, high 
 towering in the sky ! 
 Nor doth he scorn to beam on all his glance sur- 
 
 veys. 
 
 243
 
 ON HIS MAJESTY^S PORTRAIT. 
 
 Good Ferdinand the Third, born for the sovran 
 crown, 
 A Father of the Peace, a new Augustus, shows 
 His Son the heights whereon the heavenly pal- 
 ace glows; 
 And teaches how with arms of Peace to win re- 
 nown. 
 
 How blest the mighty realm, how blest their des- 
 tinies, 
 Cer which his gracious eyes keep sleepless vigils 
 
 kind. 
 And where he holds the Scales for holy Justice 
 blind ! 
 An Eagle brought him sword and sceptre from 
 the skies. 
 
 A crown adorns the head which empires grand 
 
 engage : 
 This Head adorns the Crown, and makes a 
 
 golden age. 
 
 244
 
 n (Uord to Jin 
 
 Tellcw-JIcademlcians and Patrons of 
 tbe Drama. 
 
 O reenklndle your zeal for art, and at 
 the same time to edify and to quicken 
 your spirit, the holy trag^ic scene, 
 which represents the Heavens, is here 
 presented to your view. 
 
 The great Archangels, Lucifer and Michael, 
 each strengthened by his followers, come on the 
 stage, and play their parts. 
 
 The stage and the actors are, in sooth, of such 
 nature, and so glorious, that they demand a 
 grander style and higher buskins than I know how 
 
 245
 
 VONDEL'S 
 
 to put on. No one who understands the speech 
 of the infallible oracles of the Holy Spirit will 
 judge that we present here the story of Sal- 
 moneus, who^ in Elis^ mounted upon his 
 chariot, while defying; Jupiter, and imitating; 
 his thunder and lightning; by riding; over a 
 brazen bridg;e, holding; a burning; torch, was 
 slain by a thunderbolt. 
 
 Nor do we renew here the g;rey fable of the war 
 of the Titans, in which disguise Poesy sought to 
 make its auditors forget their reckless presumption 
 and godless sacrilege, and to acquire a knowledge 
 of nature instead; namely, that the air and the 
 winds, locked within the hollow belly and the 
 sulphurous bowels of the earth, seeking, at times, 
 an outlet, accompanied by the violence of bursting 
 rocks, and by smoke and steam and flames and 
 earthquakes and dreadful mutterings, are vomited, 
 and, rising heavenwards, again descend, strewing 
 and heaping the surface of land and sea with 
 stones and ashes* 
 
 Among the Prophets, Isaiah and Ezekiel assure 
 us of the fall of the Archangel and his faction* 
 In the Evangelist, Christ, truest of all oracles, with 
 His voice, out of the Heavens, enjoins us to hear ; 
 
 and finally, Judas Thaddeus, His faithful apostle } 
 
 246
 
 FOREWORD. 
 
 which parables are worthy to be eng;raved in 
 eternal diamond, and, more worthy still, upon our 
 hearis* 
 
 Isaiah cries: " How art thou fallen from Heaven, 
 
 Lucifer, who didst rise in the momingf! How 
 art thou fallen to the earth, that didst wound the 
 nations ! 
 
 " And thou saidst in thy heart, I will ascend to 
 Heaven, I will exalt my throne above the stars of 
 God. I will sit in the mountain of the covenant, 
 in the sides of the north : 
 
 ** I will ascend above the height of the clouds. 
 
 1 will be like the Most High. 
 
 ** But yet thou shalt be brought down to hell, 
 into the depth of the pit.^ 
 
 God speaks through Ezekiel thus : " Thou wast 
 the seal of resemblance, full of wisdom, perfect in 
 beauty. Thou wast in the pleasures of the para- 
 dise of God ; every precious stone was thy cover- 
 ing, the sardius, the topaz, and the jasper, the 
 chrysolite and the onyx and the beryl, the sap- 
 phire and the carbuncle and the emerald ; gold 
 was thy adornment. Thy pipes were prepared 
 in the day thou wast created. Thou didst spread 
 thyself like an overshadowing cherub, and I set 
 thee on the mountain of God. Thou didst walk 
 
 247
 
 VONDEL'S 
 
 in the midst of the stones of fire. Thou wast per- 
 fect in thy ways from the day of thy creation, 
 until iniquity was found in thee/^ 
 
 Both of these parables are spoken, the one of 
 the King of Babylon, the other of the King of 
 Tyre, who, like unto Lucifer in pride and in splen- 
 dor, were threatened and punished. 
 
 Jesus Christ refers to the fall of the rebellious 
 Lucifer, where he says : ** I saw Satan like light- 
 ning falling from Heaven.'^ 
 
 And Thaddeus reveals the fall of the Angels 
 and their crime, and the punishments which fol- 
 lowed thereon, without any palliation, briefly, in 
 this manner : ** And the Angels who kept not 
 their principality, but forsook their own habita- 
 tion, he hath reserved with everlasting chains 
 of darkness unto the judgment of the great 
 God.'' 
 
 Stayed by these golden sayings, and in particu- 
 lar by that of Judas Thaddeus, disciple of the 
 Heavenly Teacher and Ambassador from the 
 King of kings, we receive, as upon a shield of 
 adamant, the darts of the unbelieving who would 
 dare to cast a doubt upon the fall of the Angels. 
 
 Besides this, we are strongly supported through- 
 out the whole period of antiquity by the most 
 
 248
 
 FOREWORD. 
 
 illustrious of the devout Church Fathers, who, in 
 respect to the plot of this history, are unanimously 
 ag;reed : thoug^h, lest we detain our Academic 
 friends, we shall be content to cite only three 
 places, the first taken out of the holy Cyprian, 
 Bishop and martyr at Carthage, where he writes : 
 ** When he who was formerly throned in ang-elic 
 majesty and accounted worthy by God and pleas- 
 ing in his sight, saw man, made in God's own 
 image, he burst into malicious hate ; not, however, 
 causing him to fall by poisoning him with this 
 hatred, ere he himself was thereby also undone — 
 himself made captive ere he captured, and ruined 
 ere he brought him to ruin. While he, spurred on 
 by envy, robbed man of the grace of immortality 
 once given him, he himself also lost all that he 
 had before possessed.'' 
 
 The great Gregory furnishes us the second quo- 
 tation: *^The rebellious Angel, created to shine 
 preeminent among hosts of Angels, is through 
 his pride brought to such a fall that he now re- 
 mains subject to the dominion of the loyal Angels." 
 
 The third and last evidence we cull from the 
 sermons of the mellifluous St. Bernard: "Shun 
 pride; I pray you, shun it. The source of all 
 transgression is pride, which hath overcast Lucifer 
 
 249
 
 VONDEL'S 
 
 himself, shining most splendidly amongst the stars, 
 with eternal darkness. Not only an Angel, but 
 the chief among Angels, it hath changed into a 
 Deva.'' 
 
 Pride and envy, the two causes or inciters of 
 this horrible conflagration of discord and battle, 
 are represented by us as a team of starred animals, 
 the Lion and the Dragon, which, harnessed to 
 Lucifer's battle-chariot, carry him against God 
 and Michael; seeing that these animals are types 
 of these two deadly sins* For the Lion, king of 
 beasts, encouraged by his strength, in his vanity, 
 thinks no one above him; and envy injures the 
 envied from afar, even as the Dragon wounds his 
 enemy a long way off by shooting poison [from 
 his tongue]. 
 
 St. Augustine, ascribing these two deadly sins 
 to Lucifer, pictures the nature of the same most 
 vividly, saying that pride is a love of one's own 
 greatness ; but envy is a hatred of another's hap- 
 piness, the outcome of which seems clear enough. 
 "For each one," says he, "who loves his own 
 greatness envies his equals, inasmuch as they 
 stand as high as he; or envies his inferiors, lest 
 they become his equals; or his superiors, because 
 
 they are above him.'* 
 
 350
 
 FOREWORD. 
 
 Now, since the beasts themselves were abused 
 and possessed by the damned Spirits, as in the 
 beginning the Paradise Serpent, and in the holy- 
 age the herd of swine, that with a loud noise was 
 precipitated into the sea, and since, also, the constel- 
 lations are pictured on the Heavens in the forms 
 of animals, as hath been thought even by the 
 Prophets, as the Pleiades, or Seven Stars, and 
 Arctor us, Orion, and Lucifer; so may it please you 
 to overlook the elaborateness and the didacticism 
 of this drama, if the unfortunate Spirits upon our 
 stage, by means of the same, help and defend 
 themselves : for to the infernal monsters nothing is 
 more natural than cunning traits and the abuse of 
 all creatures and elements, to the prejudice of the 
 name and honor of the Most High, so far as He 
 shall this permit. 
 
 St* John, in his Revelation, typifies the heav- 
 enly mysteries and the war in Heaven by the 
 Dragon, whose tail drew after him a third part of 
 the stars, supposed by the theologians to refer to 
 the fallen Angels ; wherefore in Poetry the flow- 
 ered manner of expression should not be examined 
 too narrowly, nor regulated by the subtlety of the 
 schools* 
 
 We should also make distinction between the 
 
 251
 
 VONDEL'S 
 
 two kinds of characters who contend on this stagfc ; 
 namely^ the bad and the good Angels, each kind 
 playing its own role, even as Cicero and our inborn 
 sense of verisimilitude teach us to picture each 
 character according to his rank and nature. 
 
 At the same time we by no means deny that 
 holy subject matter restrains and binds the drama- 
 tist more closely than worldly histories or pagan 
 fables, notwithstanding that ancient and famous 
 motto of the poets, expressed by Horatius Flaccus 
 in his " Art of Poetry ^ in these lines : 
 
 "The painter and the bard did both this power receive, 
 To aid their art with all that they of use believe." 
 
 . Though here it is especially noteworthy to state 
 how we, in order to inflame the hate of the proud 
 and envious Spirits the more strongly, did cause 
 the mystery of the future incarnation of the Word 
 to be partially revealed to the Angels by the 
 Archangel Gabriel, Ambassador from God, and 
 Herald of His Mysteries; herein to improve the 
 matter, following not the opinion of the majority 
 of the theologians, but only of a few, because 
 this furnished our tragic picture richer material 
 
 and more lustre. However, neither in this point 
 
 252
 
 FOREWORD. 
 
 nor in other cifcomstances of cause, time, place, 
 and manner (which we employed to render this 
 tragedy more powerful, more glorious, more nat- 
 ural, and more instructive) has it been our pur- 
 pose to obscure the orthodox truth, or to establish 
 anything after our own finding or notion* 
 
 St» Paul, the revealer of God^s mysteries to the 
 Hebrews, extols most enviably — even to the pre- 
 judice of the kingdom of the lying and tempting 
 Spirits — the glory, might, and Godhead of the 
 Incarnate Word, preeminent among all Angels in 
 name, in sonship, and in heirship ; in the adoration 
 of the Angels ; in His unction ; in His exaltation 
 at God^s right hand ; and in the eternity of His ruler- 
 ship as a king over the coming world, as the cause 
 and the end of all things, and as the crowned Head 
 of men and Angels: while the Angels, His wor- 
 shippers, God's messengers, as ministering Spirits, 
 are sent to serve man, the heir of salvation, whose 
 nature God's Son, passing the Angels by, hath 
 taken upon Himself in the blood of Abraham. 
 
 By occasion of this justification, I do not deem 
 it unsuitable here, in passing, to say a few words 
 in vindication of those dramas and dramatists that 
 employ Biblical subjects, inasmuch as they have, 
 occasionally, come into reproach ; since, forsooth, 
 
 253
 
 VONDEL'S 
 
 human tastes arc so various; for a difference in 
 temperament causes the same subject to be agree- 
 able to one which is repulsive to another. 
 
 All honorable arts and customs have their sup- 
 porters and opponents, also their proper use and 
 abuse. The holy writers of tragfedy have, among 
 the ancient Hebrews, for their example, the poet 
 Ezekiel, who has left us, in Greek, the exodus of 
 the twelve tribes from Egypt. Among the rever- 
 end Church Fathers, they have that bright star out 
 of the East, Gregory of Nazianzus, who, in Greek 
 dramatic verse, hath pictured the Crucified Saviour 
 Himself ; as also, not long since, we became in- 
 debted to the Royal Ambassador, Hugo Grotius, 
 that great light of the learning and piety of our 
 age, who, following in the track of St. Gregory, 
 hath given us the Crucified One in Latin, for 
 which immortal and edifying labor we owe him 
 both honor and thankfulness. 
 
 Among the English Protestants, the learned pen 
 of Richard Baker hath discoursed very freely in 
 prose concerning Lucifer and all the acts of the 
 rebellious Spirits. 
 
 It is true that the Fathers of the Ancient Church 
 banished the Christian actors from the community 
 of the Church, and that from that time forth they 
 
 2S4
 
 FOREWORD. 
 
 were strongly opposed to the drama. But let os 
 take into consideration the time and the fact that 
 their reasons for this were far different. At that 
 period the worlds in many places^ was yet deeply 
 sunken in heathenish idolatry. The foundations 
 of Christianity were not yet well established^ and 
 the dramas were played in honor of Cybele, a 
 great goddess and mother of their imagined gods, 
 and were esteemed a serviceable expedient with 
 which to avert the land plagues from the bodies of 
 the people. 
 
 St. Augustine testifies how a heathen archpriest, 
 a minister of Numa^s ritual and idol service, on 
 account of a deadly pest, first instituted the drama 
 at Rome, sanctioning it by his authority. 
 
 Scaliger himself acknowledges that it was estab- 
 lished for the health of the people by order of the 
 Sibyls, so that these plays became a truly powerful 
 incentive to the blind idolatry of the heathen, 
 extolling their gods — a cankering abomination, 
 whose destruction cost the first heroes of the 
 Cross and the long-struggling Church so much 
 sweat and blood ; but being now long extirpated, 
 hath left in Europe not a vestige behind. 
 
 That the holy old Church Fathers, therefore, 
 for these reasons, and also because of their corrupt- 
 
 255
 
 VONDEL'S 
 
 ing the public morals, and various open and 
 shameless customs, as the employment of naked 
 boys, women, and maidens, and other obscenities, 
 should rebuke these plays, was needful and com- 
 mendable, as, in that case, would also be so now. 
 This beingf considered, let us not hold the good 
 and the usefulness of edifying; and entertaining 
 plays too ligfhtly. 
 
 Holy and honorable examples serve as a mirror, 
 reflecting for our edification all virtue and piety, 
 and teaching us, at the same time, to shun wicked- 
 ness and its consequent misery* 
 
 The purpose and design of true tragedy is 
 through terror and sympathy to stir the spectators 
 to tenderness. Through the drama, students and 
 growing youth are cultivated in the languages, 
 eloquence, wisdom, modesty, good morals and 
 manners ; and these sink into their tender hearts 
 and are impressed upon their senses, conducing to- 
 wards habits of propriety and discretion, which 
 remain with them, and to which they adhere even 
 until old age; yea, it occurs, at times, that erratic 
 geniuses, not to be bent or diverted by ordinary 
 methods, are touched by this subtle art and by an 
 exalted dramatic style, thus influenced beyond 
 their own suspicion; even as a delicate lyre-string
 
 FOREWORD. 
 
 gives forth an answeringf sound when its com- 
 panion strings of the same kind and nature, of a 
 similar tone, and strung on another lyre, is caressed 
 by a skilled hand, which, while playing, can drive 
 the turbulent spirit out of a possessed and hard- 
 ened Saul. 
 
 The history of the early Church seals this with 
 the noteworthy examples of Genesius and Ardaleo, 
 both actors, enlightened in the theatre by the Holy 
 Ghost, and there converted ; for they, while play- 
 ing, wishing to mock the Christian Religion, were 
 convicted of the truth, which they had learned out 
 of their serious r61es, filled with the pith of wis- 
 dom, rather than with trifling discourse to be 
 mouthed for hours into the air and more vexa- 
 tious than instructive. 
 
 They tell us in regard to Biblical subject matter 
 that we should not pUy with holy things, and, 
 indeed, this seems to have some show of plausi- 
 bility in our language, which hath given us the 
 word ptay ; but he that can stammer but a word 
 or two of Greek knows that among the Greeks 
 and Latins this word was not used in this sense ; 
 for rpaycpdia is a compound word, and really 
 means a goat-song, after the lyric contests of the 
 shepherds, instituted for the purpose of winning a 
 
 257
 
 FOREWORD. 
 
 goat by singing:, in which custom the tragic songs, 
 and, following them, dramatic plays, took their 
 origin. And if one would, nevertheless, unmerci- 
 fully bring us to task on account of this word phyf 
 what then shall be done with organ ptay^ David's 
 harp and song p/ajy, and the ptay on the instru- 
 ment with ten strings, and the other kinds of play 
 on flute and stringed instruments, introduced by 
 various sects among the Protestants into their 
 meetings ? 
 
 He, then, who appreciates this distinction will, 
 while condemning the abuses of the dramatic art, 
 not be ungracious towards the proper use of the 
 same ; nor will he begrudge the youth and the art- 
 loving burghers this glorious, yea, this divine, in- 
 vention, to them an honorable recreation and a 
 refreshing amelioration of the trials of life ; so that 
 we, hereby encouraged, may with greater zeal 
 bring Lucifer upon the stage, where he, finally 
 smitten by God's thunderbolt, plunges down into 
 hell — the mirror clear of all ungrateful ambitious 
 ones who audaciously dare to exalt themselves, 
 setting themselves against the consecrated Powers 
 and Majesties and their lawful superiors* 
 
 258
 
 Lucifer
 
 Cbe Jlrgument. 
 
 UCIFER, the Archangel, chief and 
 most illustrious of all the Angels, 
 proud and ambitious, out of blind 
 self-love envied God His boundless 
 greatness; he also became jealous of man, made 
 in God^s image, to whom, in his delightful Para- 
 dise, was entrusted the sovereignty of earth* 
 
 He envied God and man the more when Ga- 
 briel, God^s Herald, proclaiming all Angels to be 
 but ministering Spirits, revealed the mysteries of 
 God's future incarnation, whereby, the Angels 
 being passed by, the real nature of man, united 
 with the Godhead, might expect a power and 
 majesty equal to God's own. Wherefore, the proud 
 and envious Spirit, attempting to place himself on 
 
 an equality with God, and to keep man out of 
 
 263
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Heaven, through his accomplices, incited to arms 
 innumerable Angels, and led them, notwithstand- 
 ing RafacFs warning, against Michael, Heaven^s 
 Field-marshal, and his legions; and ceasing the 
 fight, after his defeat, he caused, out of revenge, 
 the first man, and in him all his descendants, to 
 fall, while he himself, with all his co-rebels, was 
 plunged into hell and eternal damnation. 
 
 The scene is in the Heavens. 
 
 264
 
 Dramatis Person^e. 
 
 Belzebub, \ 
 
 Belial, I . . . Rebellious Chiefs, 
 
 Apollion, ) 
 
 Gabriel, .... God's Herald of Mysteries, 
 
 Chorus of Angels. 
 
 Lucifer, .... Stadtholder, 
 
 LUCIFERIANS, . . . Seditious Spirits, 
 
 Michael, .... Field-marshal. 
 
 Rafael, .... Guardian Angel. 
 
 Uriel, Michael's Armor-bearer, 
 
 a6t>
 
 Belial hence hath sped on aery 
 
 wings 
 To see where lingers our Apollion, 
 Whom for such flight most fit 
 Chief Lucifer 
 Hath sent to Earth that he might gain for him 
 A better sense of Adam's bliss^ the state, 
 Where placed by Powers Omnipotent he dwells. 
 And lo ! the time draws nigh that he return 
 
 207
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Unto these courts. He cannot now be far, 
 A watchful servant heeds his master's glance 
 And, faithful, stays his throne with neck and 
 shoulder. ^° 
 
 Belial: 
 
 Lord Belzebub, thou Privy Councillor 
 
 Of Heaven's Stadtholder, he riseth steep 
 
 And wheels from sphere to sphere into our view ; 
 
 The wind he passes by and leaves a track 
 
 Of light and splendor in his wake, where cleave 
 
 His speedy wings the clouds ; and now our air 
 
 He scents in other day and brighter sun, 
 
 Whose glow is mirrored in the crystal blue. 
 
 The heavenly globes beneath behold his flight, 
 
 As up he mounts, and each with wonder sees 2° 
 
 His speed and godlike grace. He seems to them 
 
 No more an Angel but a flying fire. 
 
 No star so swiftly shoots. Behold him now. 
 
 Here upwards soaring, and within his hands 
 
 He bears a golden bough. The steep incline 
 
 He hath accomplished happily. 
 
 Belzcbub: 
 
 What brings 
 Apollion ? 
 
 z63
 
 ACT I. 
 
 JlpOlliOtl: 
 
 I have, Lord Belzebub, 
 The low terrene observed with keenest eye. 
 And now I offer thee the fruits g^rown there 
 So far below these heights, 'neath other skies 3° 
 And other sun : now judge thou from the fruit 
 The land and garden which even God Himself 
 Hath blessed and planted for mankind's delight. 
 
 BeUebub: 
 
 I see the golden leaves, all laden with 
 Ethereal pearls, the sparkling silvery dew. 
 "What sweet perfume exhale those radiant leaves 
 Of tint unfading ! How alluring glows 
 That pleasant fruit with crimson and with gold I 
 'Twere pity to pollute it with the hands. 
 The eye doth tempt the mouth. Who would not 
 lust 40 
 
 For earthly luxury } He loathes our day 
 And food celestial, who the fruit may pluck 
 Of Earth. One would for Adam's garden curse 
 Our Paradise. The bliss of Angels fades 
 In that of man. 
 
 JlpOlliOtt: 
 
 Too true, Lord Belzebub, 
 
 2O9
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Though high out Heaven may seem, 'tis far too 
 
 low. 
 For what I saw with mine own eyes deceives 
 Me not. The world's delights, yea, Eden's fields 
 Alone, our Paradise excel. 
 
 Belzcbub: 
 
 Proceed. 
 We'll hear what thou shalt say. We'll hear 
 together. 50 
 
 JlpOlliOlt: 
 
 I'll pass my Journey thither by nor tell 
 
 How dov/nward sweeping through nine spheres I 
 
 sped. 
 That swift as arrows round their centre whirl. 
 The wheel of sense revolves within our thoughts 
 Not with such speed, as I beneath the moon 
 And clouds dropped down. Where then aloft I 
 
 hung, 
 On floating pinions, to survey that shore. 
 That Eastern landscape far that marks the face 
 Of that great sphere the flowing ocean rounds. 
 Wherein so many kinds of monsters swarm. 60 
 
 Afar I saw a lofty mount emerge, 
 From which a waterfall, fount of four streams, 
 
 270
 
 I see the golden leaves, all laden with 
 Ethereal pearls, the sparkling silvery dew."
 
 ACT I. 
 
 Dashed with a roar into the vale below. 
 Headlong I steered my course oblique, with steep 
 Descent, until I gained the mountain's brow, 
 Whence, resting, all the nether world I viewed, 
 Its happy fields and glowing opulence. 
 
 BClZCDUb: 
 
 Now picture us the garden and its shape. 
 
 IfPOlliOfl: 
 
 Round is the garden, as the world itself. 
 Above the centre looms the mount from which 70 
 The fountain gushes that divides in four. 
 And waters all the land, refreshing trees 
 And fields ; and flows in unref lective rills 
 Of crystal purity. The streams their rich 
 Alluvion bring and nourish all the ground. 
 Here Onyx gleams and Bdellion doth shine ; 
 And bright as Heaven glows with glittering stars ; 
 So here Dame Nature sowed her constellations 
 Of stones that pale our stars. Here dazzle veins 
 Of gold ; for Nature wished to gather all so 
 
 Her treasures in one lap. 
 
 BCIZCDUD: 
 
 What of the air 
 
 That hovers round whereby that creature lives ? 
 
 873
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 JlpClliOtl: 
 
 No Angel us among;, a breath exhales 
 
 So soft and sweet as the pure draught refreshingf 
 
 That there meets man, that lightly cools his face 
 
 And with its gentle, vivifying touch 
 
 All things caresses in its blissful course : 
 
 There swells the bosom of the fertile field 
 
 With herb and hue and bud and branch and 
 
 bloom 
 And odors manifold, which nightly dews 90 
 
 Refresh. The rising and the setting sun 
 Know and observe their proper, measured time 
 And so unto the need of every plant 
 Temper their mighty rays that flower and fruit 
 Are all within the selfsame season found. 
 
 Bcizcbub: 
 
 Now tell me of man^s features and his form. 
 
 Jfpollion: 
 
 Who would our state for that of man prefer. 
 When one beholdeth beings, all-surpassing, 
 Beneath whose sway all other beings stand I 
 I saw a hundred thousand creatures move 100 
 
 Before me there : all they that tread the earth 
 
 274
 
 ACT I. 
 
 And they that cleave the clouds, or swim the 
 
 stream, 
 As is their wont, each in his element. 
 Who should the nature and the attributes 
 Of each one know as Adam ! For 'twas he 
 That gave them, one by one, their various 
 
 names. 
 The mountain-lion wagged his tail and smiled 
 Upon his lord. And, at his sovereign's feet. 
 The tiger, too, his fierceness laid. The bull 
 Bowed low his horns ; the elephant, his trunk. "<> 
 The bear forgot his rage. The griffin heard 
 His call ; the eagle and the dragon dread, 
 Behemoth and even great Leviathan. 
 Nor shall I tell what praise rings in man's ears. 
 Amid those warbling bowers, replete with songs 
 In many tongues ; while zephyrs rustle through 
 The leaves, and brooks purl 'neath their sylvan 
 
 banks 
 A murmurous harmony that wearies never. 
 Had but Apollion his mission then 
 Accomplished, sooth, in Adam's Paradise 120 
 
 He soon had lost all memory of Heaven. 
 
 Belzebub: 
 
 But what, pray, of the twain thou sawest there ? 
 
 27s
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Jipoinott: 
 
 No creature hath on high mine eye so pleased 
 As those below. Who could so subtly soul 
 With body weave and two-fold Angels form 
 From clay and bone ? The body's shapely mould 
 Attests the Maker's art^ that in the face^ 
 The mirror of the mind, doth best appear. 
 But wonderful! upon the face is stamped 
 The image of the soul. All beauty here 130 
 
 Concentres, while a god looks through the eyes. 
 Above the whole the reasoning soul doth hover, 
 And while the dumb and brutish beasts all look 
 Down towards their feet, man proudly lifts alone 
 His head to Heaven, in lofty praise to God. 
 
 BelzeDub: 
 
 His praise is not in vain for gifts so rare* 
 
 JTpOlliOtl: 
 
 He rules even like a god whom all must serve* 
 
 The invisible soul consists of spirit and not 
 
 Of matter, and it rules in every limb : 
 
 The brain it makes its seat, and there holds court, mo 
 
 It is immortal, nor fears aught of rust, 
 
 Or other injury. 'Tis past our sense. - 
 
 276 
 
 /
 
 ACT L 
 
 Knowledge and prudence, virtue and free-will, 
 Are its possessions. Dumb all Spirits stand 
 Before its majesty. Ere long the world 
 Shall teem with men. It waits, from little seed, 
 A harvest rich in souls ; and therefore God 
 Did man to woman join. 
 
 Bclzcbub: 
 
 Now say me how 
 Thou dost regard his rib — his loved spouse? 
 
 Jlpollion: 
 
 I covered with my wings mine eyes and face 
 
 That I might curb my thoughts and deep delight, 
 
 "When erst she filled my gaze, as Adam led her 
 
 Into their arborous bower with gentle hand : 
 
 From time to time he stopped, in contemplation ; 
 
 And gazing thus, a holy fire began 
 
 His pure breast to inflame. And then he kissed 
 
 His bride and she her bridegroom : thus on joy 
 
 Their nuptials fed — on feasts of fiery love. 
 
 Better imagined far than told, a bliss 
 
 Divine beyond all Angel ken. How poor ifo 
 
 Our loneliness ! For us no union sweet 
 
 Of two-fold sex, of maiden and of man. 
 
 Alas! how much of good we miss: we know 
 
 277 
 
 'SO
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 No mate or happy marriage in a Heaven 
 Devoid of woman. 
 
 Thus in time a world 
 Of men shall be begotten there below? 
 
 Jfpollion: 
 
 The love of beauty, fashioned in the brain, 
 Deeply impressed by the senses keen, 
 This makes their union strong. Their life consists 
 Alone in loving and in being loved — 17° 
 
 One sweet, one mutual joy, by them indulged 
 Perpetually, yet e^er unquenchable. 
 
 BcUcbub: I 
 
 Now picture me the bride, described from life. 
 
 JTpOlliOtl; 
 
 That Nature's pencil needs, nor lesser hues 
 Than sunbeams. Perfect are both man and wife; 
 Of equal beauty they, from head to foot. 
 By right doth Adam Eve excel in strength 
 Of form and majesty of bearing, as 
 One chosen for the sovereignty of Earth : 
 
 278
 
 — Perfect are both man and wife; 
 Of equal beauty they from head to foot."
 
 ACT I. 
 
 But Eve combines all that her bi'ideg:room joys : iSo 
 
 A tenderness of limb and softer skin 
 
 And flesh, a lovelier tint and eyes enchanting-, 
 
 A charming, gracious mouth, a sweeter voice, 
 
 Whose power lies in a sound more exquisite ; 
 
 Two founts of ivory and what besides 
 
 No tongue should dare to name, lest Spirits should 
 
 Be tempted. And though all the Angels now 
 
 Impress our eyes as beautiful and fair. 
 
 How ill their forms and faces would appear 
 
 If seen within the rosy morning-light '9° 
 
 Of maidenhood I 
 
 BclzebuD: 
 
 It seems that passion for 
 This feminine creature hath thy heart inflamed. 
 
 JlpOlliOtl: 
 
 In that delightful blaze, my great wing-plumes 
 I singed. Most hard it was for me to rise 
 And wheel my way to this our high abode. 
 I parted, though with pain, and thrice turned back 
 My gaze. There shines no Seraph in the courts 
 Celestial, here on high, as she amid 
 Her hanging hair, that forms a golden niche 
 Of sunbeams that in beauteous waves roll down 200 
 
 281
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 From her fair head, and flow along her back. 
 So, even as from a light, she comes to view, 
 And day rejoices with her radiant face. 
 Though pearl and mother-o*-pearI seem purity, 
 Her whiteness even theirs surpasses far. 
 
 Bclzebub: 
 
 What profits human glory, if even as 
 A flower of the field it fades and dies? 
 
 JlpOlliOtt: 
 
 So long their garden fruit doth give, shall this 
 Most happy pair live by an apple sweet. 
 Grown on the central tree, that nurture finds 21° 
 Beside the stream that laves its tender roots. 
 This wondrous tree is called the tree of life. 
 'Tis incorruptible, and through it man 
 Joys life eterne and all immortal things. 
 While of his Angel brothers he becomes 
 The peer, yea, and shall in the end surpass 
 Them all, until his power and sway and realm 
 Spread over all. For who can clip his wings ? 
 No Angel hath the power to multiply 
 His being a thousand thousand times, in swarms 220 
 Innumerable. Now do thou calculate 
 What shall from this, in time, the outcome be. 
 
 282
 
 ACT I. 
 
 Bclzcbub: 
 
 Great is man's might, that thas even ours out- 
 grows ! 
 
 JlpOlliOH: 
 
 Soon shall his increase frighten and astound. 
 Though now his sway stoops lower than the 
 
 moon. 
 And though 'tis now determinate, he shall 
 Yet higher rise and place himself upon 
 The highest seat in Heaven* If God prevent 
 Not this, how then can we prevent it? For 
 God loves man well and for him made all things* 230 
 
 BeUebub: 
 
 "What hear I there ? A trumpet ? Surely then 
 A voice will follow* Go, see, while we here 
 Await* 
 
 JlpOlIiOlt: 
 
 The Archangel Gabriel is at hand. 
 
 And in his wake the choristers of Heaven, 
 
 In the name of Him, the Highest, to unfold, 
 
 As Herald from the towering Throne of Thrones, 
 
 What there him was enjoined* 
 
 283
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 BelzcbHb: 
 
 We please to hear 
 Whatever the Archangel shall command. 
 
 GABRIEL. CHORUS OF ANGELS. 
 
 Gabriel: 
 
 Give ear, ye Angels all ; give ear, ye hosts 
 
 Of Heaven. The highest Goodness, from whose 
 
 breast 240 
 
 Flow all things good and all things holy, who 
 Of His beneficence ne^er wearied grows 
 And of whose teeming grace the riches never 
 Shall know decrease ; whose might and Being 
 
 transcend 
 The comprehension of His creatures all : 
 This Goodness, in the image of Himself, 
 Formed man, also the Angels that they might 
 Together here with Him securely hold 
 The Realm eterne — the good ne*er-comprehended. 
 Having the while with faithfulness maintained 250 
 His firm prescribed law. He also built 
 This wondrous universe, the world below 
 Made manifest, and meet for God and man. 
 That in this garden man might rule and there 
 
 Might multiply ; acknowledge God with all 
 
 284
 
 ACT I. 
 
 His seed ; Him ever serve and e*er revere. 
 
 And thus mount up, by the stairway of the 
 
 world, 
 The firmament of beatific light 
 Within, into the ne^er-created glow. 
 Though Spirits may seem pre-eminent, above 260 
 All other beings, yet God hath decreed. 
 Even from eternity, that man shall high 
 Exalted be, even o^er the Angel world ; 
 Him destined for a glory and a crown 
 Of splendor not inferior to His own. 
 Ye shall behold the eternal Word above. 
 When clad in flesh and bone, anointed Lord 
 And Chief and Judge, mete justice to the hosts 
 Of Spirits, to Angels and to men alike. 
 From His high seat, in His unshadowed Realm. ^70 
 There in the centre stands the holy Throne 
 Already consecrate. Let all the hosts 
 Angelic then have care to worship Him, 
 When He shall ride in triumph in, who hath 
 The human form exalted o'er our own. 
 Then dimly shines the bright translucent flame 
 Of Seraphim, beside this light of man. 
 This glow and radiance divine. The rays 
 Of Mercy shall all Nature's splendors drown. 
 'Tis fated thus — and stands irrevocable. 280 
 
 285
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 €boru$: 
 
 All that the Heavens ordain shall please God's 
 hosts. 
 
 So be ye faithful, ever rendering thus 
 
 Both God and man your service : since mankind 
 
 So well beloved are by God Himself* 
 
 Who honors Adam wins his Father's heart. 
 
 And men and Angels, issuing from one stem. 
 
 Are brothers and companions, chosen for 
 
 One lot, the sons and heirs of the Most High, 
 
 A stainless line. One undivided will. 
 
 One undivided love, be this your law. 29° 
 
 Ye know how all the Angel hosts into 
 
 Three Hierarchies and lesser Orders nine 
 
 Are duly separate : of Seraphim 
 
 And Cherubim and Thrones, the highest, they 
 
 Who form God's inmost Council and confirm 
 
 All His commands ; the second Hierarchy, 
 
 Of Dominations, Virtues, Powers, that on 
 
 The mandates of God's secret Council wait 
 
 And minister to man's well-being and bliss. 
 
 The third and lowest Hierarchy, composed 300 
 
 Of Principalities and all Archangels 
 
 And Angels, is unto the middle rank 
 
 286
 
 ACT I. 
 
 Subordinate^ and service finds beneath 
 The sphere of purest crystalline, in their 
 Particular charge, that wide is as the vault 
 Of starry space. And when the world shall spread 
 Its widening- bounds without, shall unto each 
 Of these some province there allotted be, 
 Or he shall know what town or house or being 
 Is to his care committed, to the praise 31° 
 
 And honor of God^s crown. Ye faithful ones, 
 Ye Gods immortal, go then and obey 
 Chief Lucifer, bound by your God's commands. 
 Bring glory to high Heaven in serving man. 
 Each in his own retreat, each on his watch. 
 Let some before the Godhead incense burn 
 And lay before His towering Throne their prayers. 
 Their wishes and their offerings for mankind, 
 Singing the Godhead praise until the sounds 
 Re-echo through the corridors of Heaven, 320 
 
 In endless jubilation. Let some whirl 
 The constellations and the globes of Heaven, 
 Or open wide the skies, or pile them high 
 With pregnant clouds, to bless the mount below 
 With sunshine, or with soft, refreshing showers 
 Of manna and of pure mellifluous dews ; 
 Where God is by the happy pair adored. 
 The primal innocence 'mid Eden's bowers. 
 
 287
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Let those that air and fire and earth and sea 
 
 Cer range, each, in his element, his pace 33° 
 
 So moderate, as Adam may require ; 
 
 Or chain in bands the lightnings, corb the storm. 
 
 Or break the ocean's fury on the strand. 
 
 Let others make a charge of man himself. 
 
 Even to a hair the sovran Deity 
 
 Knoweth the hairs upon his head. Then bear 
 
 Him gently on your hands, lest he should dash 
 
 His foot against a stone. Let one now as 
 
 Ambassador from the Omnipotent 
 
 Be sent below to Adam, King of Earth, 340 
 
 That he perform his bounden charge. I voice 
 
 The orders to my trump on high enjoined. 
 
 To these the Godhead holds you firmly bound. 
 
 Cl)ortt$ of Hna«»s: 
 
 strophe. • 
 
 "Who is it on His Throne, high-seated, 
 So deep in boundless realms of light, 
 Whose measure, space nor time hath meted^ 
 Nor e'en eternity ; whose might, 
 Supportless, yet itself maintaineth, 
 Floating on pinions of repose ; 
 
 388
 
 Who is It on His Throne, high-seated t"
 
 ACT I. 
 
 "Who, in His mightiness ordaineth 350 
 
 What tound and in Him changeless flows 
 
 And what revolves and what is driven 
 
 Around Him, centre of His plan ; 
 
 The sun of suns, the spirit-leaven 
 
 Of space ; the soul of all we can 
 
 Conceive, and of the unconceived ; 
 
 The heart, the life, the fount, the sea, 
 
 And source of all things here perceivM, 
 
 That from Him spring, that His decree 
 
 Omnipotent and Mercy flowing 360 
 
 And Wisdom from naught did evoke. 
 
 Ere this full-crowned palace glowing. 
 
 The Heaven of Heavens, the darkness broke ? 
 
 Where o^er our eyes our wings extending 
 
 To veil His dazzling Majesty, 
 
 'Mid harmonies to Him ascending. 
 
 We fall before Him tremblingly 
 
 And kneel, confused, in awe together. 
 
 Who is it ? Name, or picture then 
 
 His Being with a Seraph's feather. 370 
 
 Or is't beyond your tongue and ken ? 
 
 Antistrophe. 
 
 'Tis God : Being infinite, eternal. 
 Of everything that being has. 
 
 291
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Forgive os, O ! Thou Power supernal. 
 By all that is and ever was 
 Ne'er fully praised, ne'er to be spoken ; 
 Forgive us, nor incensed depart. 
 Since no imagining, tongue nor token 
 Can Thee proclaim. Thou wert, Thou art 
 Fore'er the same. All Angel praising 380 
 
 And knowledge is but faint and tame. 
 Tis but foul sacrilege, their phrasing ; 
 For each bears his peculiar name 
 Save Thee. And who can by declaring 
 Reveal Thy name ? And who make known 
 Thine oracles ? Who is so daring ? 
 He who Thou art Thou art alone. 
 Save Thee none knows Thy power transcendent. 
 Who grasps Thy full divinity ? 
 Who dares to face Thy Throne resplendent, 390 
 The fierce glow of eternity ? 
 To whom the light of light revealed ? 
 What's hid behind Thy sacred veil, 
 From us Thy Mercy hath concealed. 
 Such bliss transcends the narrow pale 
 Of our weak might. Our life is waning ; 
 But Thine, Lord, shall know endless days. 
 Our being in Thine finds its sustaining ! 
 Exalt the Godhead ! Sing His praise ! 
 
 292
 
 ACT L 
 
 Epode. 
 Holy I holy ! once more holy ! 400 
 
 Three times holy! Honor God ! 
 "Without Him is nothing holy I 
 Holy is His mighty nod ! 
 Strong in mystery He reigneth ! 
 His commands our tongues compel 
 To proclaim what He ordaineth, 
 What the faithful Gabriel 
 With his trumpet came expounding. 
 Praise of man to God redounding ! 
 All that pleaseth God is well. 4>o 
 
 293
 
 LUCIFER. BELZEBUB. 
 
 Cucifcr: 
 
 E speedy Spirits^ stay our chariot now, 
 God's Morning-star in its full zenith 
 
 stands; 
 Its height is reached; and lo! the 
 moment comes 
 When Lucifer must set before this star, 
 This double star that rises from below 
 And seeks the way above, to tarnish Heaven 
 With earthly glow. No more should ye adorn 
 Proud Lucifer's apparel with glittering crowns. 
 Nor gild his forehead with the glorious dawn 
 Of morning-star, to which Archangels kneel. ''» 
 
 295
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Another splendor sweeps Into the light 
 
 Of God, whose radiance drowns our vaunted 
 
 glory, 
 As to the eyes of man, below, the sun. 
 By day, puts out the stars. The shades of 
 
 nigfht 
 Bedim the Angels and the suns of Heaven : 
 For man hath won the heart of the Most High, 
 Within his new-created Paradise. 
 He is the friend of Heaven. Our slavery 
 Even now begins. Go hence, rejoice and serve 
 And honor this new race like servile slaves. 20 
 
 For God was man created ; we, for him. 
 Let then the Angels bend their necks beneath 
 His feet. Let each one now upon him wait 
 And bear him even unto the highest Thrones 
 On hands or wings : for our inheritance 
 Shall pass to him, the chosen son of God. 
 We, the first-born, shall suffer in this Realm. 
 The son, born on that day, the sixth, and made 
 In the image of the Father, shall attain 
 The crown. And rightly unto him was given 3° 
 The mighty sceptre, which shall cause even us. 
 The ones first born, to tremble and to shake. 
 Here holds no contradiction now i ye heard 
 What Gabriel's trump spake at the golden port ? 
 
 296
 
 ACT n. 
 
 BelzebuD: 
 
 O I Stadtholdcr of God^s superior Powers, 
 
 Alas ! we hear too well, amid the praise 
 
 Of choristers, a discord that makes sad 
 
 The feast eterne* The charge of Gabriel 
 
 Is clear. It needs no tongue of Cherubim 
 
 To unfold its sense. Nor was there need to send 40 
 
 ApoUion below, a nearer view 
 
 To gain of Adam's realm beneath the moon. 
 
 How gloriously the Godhead dealt with him 
 
 Doth well appear. He hath, for his defence. 
 
 Even given a life-guard, many thousands strong, 
 
 While He supports his rank and dignity. 
 
 As if he were the supreme Chief of Spirits. 
 
 The massive gate of Heaven stands ajar 
 
 For Adam's seed. An earth-worm that hath 
 
 crawled 
 Out of the dust — out of a clod of clay 5° 
 
 Defies thy power. Thou shalt yet man behold 
 O'er thee exalted, so that thou shalt fall 
 Upon thy knees and there, abased, adore, 
 With drooping eyes, his lofty eminence. 
 His power and high authority. He shall. 
 When glorified by the Omnipotent, 
 Yet seat himself, even by the side of God, 
 Empowered to reign beyond the farthest rounds 
 
 297
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 And endless circles of eternity. 
 
 That, from the bounds of time and space set free, ^ 
 
 Revolve unceasingly around one God, 
 
 Who is their centre and circumference. 
 
 What clearer proof need we to see that God 
 
 Shall glorify mankind, and us degrade ? 
 
 For we were born to serve, and man, to rule. 
 
 Then henceforth put the sceptre from thy hand ; 
 
 There is another one below, who reigns. 
 
 Or soon shall reign. Put off thy morning rays 
 
 And wreaths of light before this sun, or else 
 
 Have care to bring him in with songs of joy 70 
 
 And triumph and with honors full divine. 
 
 We soon shall see the Heavens changed in state. 
 
 Behold ! the stars look out and from their paths 
 
 Retreat, aglow with longing to receive 
 
 With reverence this new and coming light. 
 
 Cucifcr: 
 
 That shall I thwart, if in my power it be. 
 
 Belzcbub: 
 
 There hear I Lucifer and him behold. 
 
 Who from Heaven's face can drive the night 
 
 away. 
 Where he appears, day's glory dawns anew.
 
 Thou Shalt yet man behold 
 O'er thee exalted, so that thou shalt fall 
 Upon thy knees, and there, abased, adore 
 With drooping eyes his lofty eminence."
 
 ACT n. 
 
 His cfescent light, the first and nighcst God, so 
 Shall ne'er grow dim. His word is stern com- 
 mand ; 
 His will and nod a law by none transgressed. 
 The Godhead is in him obeyed and served, 
 Praised, honored, and adored. Should then a 
 
 voice 
 More faint than his now thunder from God's 
 
 Throne ? 
 Than his be more obeyed ? Should God exalt 
 A younger son, begot of Adam's loins. 
 Even over him ? That would most violate 
 The heirship of the eldest-born and rob 
 His splendor of its rays. 'Neath God Himself 9° 
 None is so great as thou. The Godhead once 
 Set thee the first in glory at His feet. 
 Then let not man dare thus our order great 
 Profane, nor thus cast down these vested Rights 
 Without a cause, or all of Heaven shall spring 
 To arms 'gainst one. 
 
 Ettclfer: 
 
 Indeed, thou say est well : 
 
 It is not meet for Dominations grave. 
 
 Powers well-disposed in state, thus to give up 
 
 So loosely their established rights ; and since 
 
 301
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 The Supreme Power is by His laws most bounds loo 
 
 To change becomes Him least* Am I a son 
 
 Of Light, a ruler of the light, my place 
 
 I shall maintain, to no usurper bow, 
 
 Not even this Arch-usurper. Let all yield 
 
 Who will, not one foot shall I e'er retreat. 
 
 Here is my Fatherland. Nor hardships dire 
 
 Nor yet disaster nor anathemas 
 
 Shall me intimidate, or tame. To dict 
 
 Or to gain port around this dreadful cape, 
 
 This is my destiny. Doth fate decree "<> 
 
 That I must fall, of rank and honors shorn. 
 
 Then let me fall ; but fall with this my crown 
 
 Upon my brow, this sceptre in my grasp, 
 
 "With my own retinue of faithful troops. 
 
 And with these many thousands on my side. 
 
 Aye, thus to fall brings honor and shall shed 
 
 Unfading glory on my name : besides. 
 
 To be the first prince in some lower court 
 
 Is better than within the Blessed Light 
 
 To be the second, or even less. 'Tis thus "<> 
 
 I weigh the stroke, nor harm nor hindrance fear. 
 
 But here, hardby, comes Heaven's Interpreter 
 
 And Herald vigilant, with God's own book 
 
 Of mysteries, committed to his care. 
 
 Most opportune for us his coming hither ; 
 
 302
 
 ACT n. 
 
 For I would question him. I shall accost 
 Him then, and from my chariot descend. 
 
 GABRIEL. LUCIFER. 
 
 eaDricI: 
 
 Lord Stadtholder, how ? "Whither bound ? 
 
 Cttcifcr: ^ ^ 
 
 To thee, 
 O I Herald and Interpreter of Heaven. 
 
 Gabriel: 
 
 Methinks I read thy purpose on thy brow. 130 
 
 Ettclfer: 
 
 Thou who canst fathom and who canst reveal, 
 Through the deep-searching light of thy mind's 
 
 eye, 
 The shadowy mysteries of God, relieve 
 Me with thy coming. 
 
 6a»riel: ^ ^ ^ 
 
 "What doth burden thee ? 
 
 Cucifer: 
 
 The late decision of the ruling Powers, 
 The new decree made by the Godhead, who 
 
 303
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Esteems celestial joys as of less worth 
 Than earthly elements^ oppresses Heaven, 
 Even from the low abyss the Earth exalts 
 Above the stars, sets man higfh in the seat mo 
 
 Of the Ang-els, whom, shorn of primordial pow- 
 ers. 
 He then commands for human happiness 
 To sweat and slave. The Spirits once consecrate 
 To service in empyreal palaces 
 Shall serve an Earth-worm that from out the dust 
 Hath crawled and grown ; and on his bidding wait, 
 And see him them excel in rank and numbers* 
 Why doth the endless Mercy us degrade 
 So soon ? What Angel hath forgot to render 
 Due reverence ? How could the Deity 'so 
 
 Mingle with base mankind and thus pass by 
 The nature of His chosen Angels here. 
 While His own nature and His Being He pours 
 Into a body ? — thus eternity 
 Unite with its beginning, time, and what 
 Is highest to what is lowest of the low ? 
 — The great Creator to His creature bind ? 
 Who can the import glean of this decree ? 
 Shall now eternity's bright, quenchless sun 
 Set in the gathering darkness of the world ? 160 
 
 Shall we, the Stadtholder of God, thus kneel 
 
 304
 
 ACT II. 
 
 Before this shadow power, this puny lord } 
 And see the countless hosts of souls divine 
 And incorporeal bow themselves before 
 A gross and slug:g:ish element upon 
 Which God hath stamped His Being; and majesty ? 
 We Spirits are yet too gross to comprehend 
 This mystery. Thou, who the key dost guard 
 Of God's rich treasure-house of mysteries. 
 Unlock, if so thou mayest, this secret dark 170 
 
 From out thy sealed book : unfold to us 
 The will of Heaven* 
 
 Qdbrieh 
 
 As much as is to us 
 Permitted to unfold out of God's book : 
 Much knowledge doth not profit one alway ; 
 Indeed, may damage bring. The Sovran Power 
 Revealeth only what He deems most fit. 
 The inner light blinds even Seraphim. 
 The spotless Wisdom would, in part, her will 
 Conceal, in part would it disclose. Himself 
 E'er to submit and to conform unto 'So 
 
 A well-established law, this best becomes 
 The subject, who unto his master's will 
 And charge stands bound. The reason why the 
 
 Lord 
 
 30s
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 (Which secret we shall know, when first shall pass 
 A lineage of Earth-born generations) 
 Who, in the course of time, both God and man 
 Become, shall reign, — shall sceptre sway, and rule, 
 Afar and wide, the stars, the sea, the Earth 
 And all that live, the Heavens conceal from thee : 
 Time shall divulge the cause* God^s trumpet 
 heed : 190 
 
 His will thou now hast heard. 
 
 Eutlfcr: 
 
 Shall then on high 
 A worm, an alien, wield the greatest power ? 
 Must they who native are to Heaven thus yield 
 To foreign rule ? Shall man then found a throne 
 Even o'er the Throne of God ? 
 
 6dbrich 
 
 Content thee with 
 Thy lot, the rank and state and worthiness 
 Once granted thee by God. For thee He made 
 The head of all the Hierarchies, though not 
 To envy others* glory or renown. 
 Rebellion flattens both her crown and head, 2°° 
 Whene'er she rears her crest 'gainst God's com- 
 mands. 
 
 306
 
 ACT n. 
 
 Thy splendor owes its lustre to God's power 
 Alone. 
 
 Euclfcr: 
 
 Till now my crown hath bowed to none 
 But God. 
 
 Gabriel: 
 
 Then also bow before this last 
 Decree of God^ who leadeth all that have 
 Their being: from naught, yea, all that e'er shall 
 
 live, 
 Unto their end and certain destiny. 
 Though we may fail to comprehend His plan. 
 
 Euclfcr: 
 
 Thus to see man into the light of God 
 
 Exalted, to behold him deified 21° 
 
 With God on His high Throne, to see towards him 
 
 The censers swinging 'mid the joyous tones 
 
 Of thousand thousand holy choristers. 
 
 With one voice pealing symphonies of praise — 
 
 Such grandeur doth bedim the lofty splendors. 
 
 And diamond rays of our own morning-star. 
 
 That dazzles then no more, while Heaven's joy 
 
 Shall pine in grief away. 
 
 307
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 6dbrUh 
 
 The highest bliss 
 Alone in calm contentment can be found 
 And in agreement with God's will^ in full «io 
 
 Compliance with His law. 
 
 Eucifcr: 
 
 The majesty 
 Of God and of the Godhead is debased, 
 If with the blood of man his nature ever 
 Unites, combines, or otherwise is bound. 
 We Spirits to God and His deep nature come 
 Far closer, as children from one father sprung ; 
 And are like Him, if unto us it be 
 Allowed to bring in such similitude 
 This inequality of endless powers 
 With those determinate, of definite might 23° 
 
 With might indefinite. Should once the sun 
 Err from his orbit's path, and veil himself 
 Behind a mist, to light the globe of Earth 
 Through clouds of smoke and darkling damps, 
 
 how soon 
 The joys of Earth would die I How would the 
 
 race 
 Below then want all light and life I How too 
 The sun would lack his dazzling majesty. 
 
 Circling his daily round ! I see the skies 
 
 308
 
 ACT n. 
 
 Piled op with gloom, the stars confused with fright, 
 Disorders fell and chaos, where now law 240 
 
 And order reign, should once the fount of light 
 Plunge with its splendors into some dark fen. 
 Think not too harshly then, I do beseech 
 Thee, Gabriel, if now thy trumpet^s voice. 
 The new-made law given by the High Command, 
 I do resist, or seemingly oppose. 
 We strive for God's own honor, yea, to give 
 To God His Right, should I become thus daring 
 And wander far beyond the narrow path 
 Of my obedience. 
 
 eabriel: 
 
 Thou art, indeed, 250 
 
 Most zealous for the glory of God's name ; 
 Though truly without weighing well that God, 
 The point wherein His majesty doth lie. 
 Far better knows than we. Cease therefore now 
 This inquisition. For when God as man 
 Shall have become. He shall this book of His 
 Own mysteries, now sealed with seven seals. 
 Himself unseal. To taste the kern within 
 Is not for thee ; thou seest the shell alone. 
 Then of this long concealment we shall learn 
 The cause and hidden reason, all the while 
 
 60 
 
 309
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Deep- gazing in the unveiled Holy of Holies* 
 It now behooves us evet to obey 
 And to revete this rising dawn, to use 
 Our light with thankfulness until the time 
 When knowledge in her power shall drive all 
 
 doubt 
 Away, even as the sun the night. Now learn 
 We gradually, with modest reverence, 
 God^s Wisdom to approach. And this to us 
 Reveals, by slow degrees, the light of truth ^7° 
 
 And knowledge, and requires that, on his watch. 
 Each shall submit himself to reason^s rule. 
 Lord Stadtholder, be calm. Be foremost, thou. 
 Now to maintain the law. God sends me hence. 
 I must away. 
 
 CHCifcr: 
 
 I shall observe it well ! 
 
 BELZEBUB. LUCIFER. 
 
 BClZCbUD: 
 
 The Stadtholder now hears the meaning of 
 
 This proclamation grave so proudly blown 
 
 By Gabriel's trumpet bold. How well he showed 
 
 310
 
 But here hard by comes Heaven's Interpreter.'*
 
 ACT n. 
 
 Thee God's design I whose purpose thou may'st 
 
 scent : 
 Thus shall he clip the wings of thy great power. 28° 
 
 Cucifcrt 
 
 But not so easily : Ah ! nay, forsooth ; 
 I shall have care this purpose to prevent. 
 Let not a power inferior thus dream 
 To rule the Powers above. 
 
 He maketh threat 
 Forthwith to crush Rebellion's head and crown. 
 
 Eucifcr: 
 
 Now swear I by my crown, upon this chance 
 To venture all, to raise my seat amid 
 The firmament, the spheres, the splendor of 
 The stars above. The Heaven of Heavens shall 
 
 then 
 My palace be, the rainbow be my throne, 29° 
 
 The starry vast, my court, while, down be- 
 neath. 
 The Earth shall be my footstool and support. 
 
 I shall, then swiftly drawn through air and light, 
 
 313
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Hig-h-seated on a chariot of cloudy 
 With lightning stroke and thunder grind to dust 
 Whatever above, around, below, doth us 
 Oppose, were it God's Marshal grand himself. 
 Yea, e'er we yield, these empyrean vaults, 
 Proud in their towering masonry, shall burst 
 With all their airy arches and dissolve 300 
 
 Before our eyes : this huge and joint-racked Earth, 
 Like a misshapen monster, lifeless lie ; 
 This wondrous universe to chaos fall. 
 And to its primal desolation change. 
 Who dares, who dares defy great Lucifer ? 
 We cite Apollion. 
 
 Belzebub: 
 
 He is at hand. 
 
 APOLLION. LUCIFER. BELZEBUB. 
 
 JlpOlliOtl: 
 
 O Stadtholder of God's unbounded Realm, 
 
 And Oracle within the Council of 
 
 The Gods subordinate, I offer thee 
 
 My service and await thy new commands* si* 
 
 What now the word — what of thy subject would 
 
 Thy Majesty ? 
 
 314
 
 ACT n. 
 
 Cucifcr: 
 
 It pleaseth us to hear 
 Thy sense and thy opinion of a grave 
 And weighty plan that cannot fail to •win, 
 Tis our intent to pluck the proudest plume 
 From Michael's wings^ that our attempt upon 
 His mightiness shall not rebound as vain. 
 With his own arm as many oracles 
 He founds, as ever God Himself hath hewn 
 From deathless diamond with His hand. Be- 
 hold 320 
 Now man exalted to the Heaven of Heavens, 
 Through all the circles of the spheres, then sec 
 The Spirit world, so deep, so far below. 
 Even 'neath his footcloth there, like feeble worms 
 Already crawling in the dust. I joy 
 To storm this throne with violence, and thus 
 To hazard by one strong, opposing stroke 
 The glory of my state and star and crown* 
 
 HpOlliOlt: 
 
 An undertaking truly to be praised ! 
 
 May it augment your crown and increase gain, 33° 
 
 Based on such resolution : so I deem 
 
 It honors me thus to advise, 'neath thee, 
 
 The prosecution of a cause so bold. 
 
 315
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Let this result for better or for worse. 
 The will is noble^ even though it fail. 
 But lest we strive in vain and recklessly. 
 How best shall we begin so bold a plan ? 
 How safest meet the point of that resolve ? 
 
 Cucifcr: 
 
 We subtly shall oppose our own resolve. 
 
 jflpOlliOtl: 
 
 Sooth, there is pith in that. But what, pray, is 340 
 Our borrowed might, weighed in the scale against 
 The Power Omnipotent ? Guard well thy crown ; 
 For we fall far too light. 
 
 BelzeDub: 
 
 Yet not so light. 
 But that the matter first shall hang in doubt. 
 
 JlpolliOtl: 
 
 By whom or how or where this plot begun ? 
 Even such intent is treason 'gainst God's Throne. 
 
 Cucifcr: 
 
 His Throne we'll not disturb ; but cautiously 
 
 Mount up the steep incline, and those high peaks, 
 
 316
 
 ACT 11. 
 
 Ne'er blazed by path and ne'er ascended, climb* 
 Courage and prudence must, at length, overcome 35° 
 And dare all dangers brave. 
 
 Hpcllioit: 
 
 But not the Power 
 Omnipotent, nor yet His crown : approach 
 Thou not too near, or learn in sorrow that 
 Repentance comes too late. The lesser should 
 Submissively unto the greater yield. 
 
 Eucifcr: 
 
 The great Omnipotent is far beyond 
 
 Our aim. Set forces like with like together. 
 
 Then learn whose sword is weightiest. I sec 
 
 Our enemies in flight, the Heavens all ours 
 
 By one courageous stroke ; our legions, too, 360 
 
 Overladen with the spoil and glorious plunder. 
 
 Then let us further now deliberate. 
 
 Hpollicn: 
 
 Thou know'st what Michael, God's Fieldmarshal 
 
 may: 
 'Neath his command are all God's legions placed. 
 
 He bears the key of the armoury here on high. 
 
 317
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 To him the watch is trusted, and he keeps 
 A faithful, sleepless eye on all the camps ; 
 So that of all the galaxies of Heaven 
 Not even one star, in its celestial march. 
 Dare move itself the least, nor stir without 370 
 
 Its ranks. 'Tis easy to commence ; but in 
 Such warfare to engfag:e exceeds our might. 
 And drags a train of hardships in its wake. 
 What ordnance and what martial enginery 
 Could e'er avail his legions proud to quell ? 
 Should Heaven's castle ope its diamond port, 
 Nor stratagem, nor ambush, nor assault 
 Could bring it fear. 
 
 But if our bold resolve 
 We strengthen with the sword, I see upon 
 Our standard, raised aloft, the morning-star 38° 
 Defiance flashing till all Heaven's state 
 And rulership is changed. 
 
 JlpolliOtt: 
 
 The Fieldmarshal, 
 The valiant Michael, bears with no less fire 
 And pride God's wondrous name amid the field 
 
 Of his great banner, with the sun above. 
 
 318 
 
 I
 
 ACT n, 
 
 Cucffer: 
 
 Though writ in lines of ligfht, what boots a name? 
 Heroic deeds, as this, are ne^er achieved 
 With titles, nor with pomp ; but by valor, spirit, 
 And subtle strokes in skill and cunning bred. 
 Thou art a master- wit with craftiness 39° 
 
 The Spirits to seduce, them to ensnare. 
 To lead and to incite however thou wilt. 
 Thou canst attaint even those among the watch 
 Of most integrity, and teach even those 
 To waver who had thought to waver never. 
 Begin, we see God^s legions in two camps 
 Divided, lords and vassals roused to strife 
 And mutiny. The greatest part even now 
 Are blind and deaf, save to their own demands ; 
 And one and all cry loudly for a chief. 400 
 
 If thou for us a fourth part canst allure. 
 We'll crown thy craft and dexterous management 
 With place and honor. Go, this plot consider 
 With Belial, for it must be dark indeed, 
 Where he shall lose his way. His countenance, 
 Smooth-varnished with dissimulation's hue. 
 No master in such deep concealment owns. 
 My car I now ascend : think ye this over. 
 The G)uncil hath convened, and now awaits 
 
 Our own attendance. We shall call you both 410 
 
 319
 
 LUCIFER, 
 
 Withm^ as soon as ye shall come. And thou, 
 Chief Lord^ guard with thy trusty followers 
 This mighty gate that to the palace leads. 
 
 BELIAL. APOLLION. 
 
 Belial: 
 
 God's Stadtholder doth serve himself with us 
 On high. 
 
 JRpcl!ion: 
 
 We fly together from his bow 
 Like speeding arrows. 
 
 BelUI: 
 
 And both aimed are 
 Even at one mark, though perilous to reach. 
 
 Jlpollion: 
 
 Ere long the Heavens shall crack 'neath our at 
 tempt. 
 
 Belial: 
 
 Let crack what will, the matter must proceed. 
 
 :Hpollion: 
 
 How then this cause to best advantage grasp ? 4=0 
 
 320
 
 ACT II. 
 
 Bclial: 
 
 The weapons favor us : we first most gain 
 The gfoard. 
 
 The chieftains first, and with them we 
 The bravest troops most then socceed in winning. 
 
 Belial: 
 
 Throogh something specioos, ^neath some seeming 
 'goised. 
 
 JlpOlliOll: 
 
 Name thoo this thing. Gime, say what thou 
 shalt call it. 
 
 Belial: 
 
 Oor Angel Realm most be maintained, its state. 
 
 Its honor, and its privilege, so choose 
 
 A chief, on whom each can reliance place. 
 
 JlpOlliCtl: 
 
 Thoo comprehendest well : no better caose 
 
 I wish as seed for motiny, to set 43° 
 
 The coort against its sobjects, throng Against 
 
 throng. 
 For each among us is inclined to goard 
 
 321
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 That honor, rank, and lawful privilege 
 
 Unto him given by the Omnipotent 
 
 Ere He created man, an after-thooght. 
 
 The celestial palace is our heritage. 
 
 To the Spirits, who above float on their wings, 
 
 Who, incorporeal, therefore, ne^er can sink. 
 
 This place is more adapt than to the race 
 
 Of Earth, too sluggish far to choose against 440 
 
 Their nature these clear bows. Here shines the 
 
 day 
 Too bright, too strong. Their eyes cannot endure 
 That splendid light, upon whose glow we gaze. 
 Then let man keep in his native element, 
 As other creatures do. Let him suffice 
 The bounds of his terrestrial Paradise, 
 Where the rising and the setting of the sun 
 And moon divide the months and form the year. 
 Let him observe, in their wide-circling round. 
 The crystal spheres. Let Eden^s pleasant fruits 430 
 G>ntent him, and its flowers that breathe perfume. 
 To range from East to West, from North to 
 
 South : 
 Let this his pastime be. What needs he more } 
 We'll ne'er bring homage to an earthly lord. 
 Thus I resolve. Canst thou more briefly yet 
 This meaning state ?
 
 ACT II. 
 
 Bcnai: 
 
 For all eternity. 
 Mankind to lock without the gate of Heaven* 
 
 JlpOlliOtt: 
 
 That tinkles well in the Angfelic ear. 
 
 That flashes like a flame from choir to choir 
 
 Through Orders nine and all the Hierarchies. 460 
 
 Belial: 
 
 So shall we best a pining slowness feign ; 
 Though all our bliss and our deliverance 
 On speed and expedition hang. 
 
 JlpOlliOtt: 
 
 Not less 
 
 On dexterous management depends, nor less 
 On courage and on bravery. 
 
 Belial: 
 
 That shall 
 Increase, as countless bannered bands accede. 
 
 JfpOlliOtl: 
 
 They even now are murmuring : then we 
 
 Should act with secrecy, share in their hopes, 
 
 And nourish their complaints. 
 
 323
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Bclidi: 
 
 And then it were 
 
 Most opportune that Belzebubt a chief 470 
 
 Of power and eminencet should tender them 
 His seal, to force their vested Rights and gain 
 Redress of grievances. 
 
 Jlpollion: 
 
 Not all at once, 
 But gradually, as if by by-paths won. 
 
 Belial: 
 
 Then let the Stadtholder himself approach, 
 And in support of such a proud resolve 
 Offer his mighty arm. 
 
 jflpOlliOtt: 
 
 We soon shall hear, 
 
 "When in the Council, his opinion 
 And his intent : then let him for a while 
 His thoughts dissemble and, at last, spur on 
 The maddened throng, embarrassed for a head. 
 
 480 
 
 Belial: 
 
 Upon the head depends the whole affair. 
 Whatever thy promises, without a chief 
 They'll ne'er commence so hazardous a cause.
 
 ACT IL 
 
 Jfpollion: 
 
 What hath been won, no need to win again 1 
 "Who most hath lost in glory and in state, 
 Him doth it most concern. Let him precede. 
 And beat the measure for a myriad feet. 
 
 Belial: 
 
 Both equity and reason would demand 
 He wear the crown; though, ere we deeper go, 490 
 Let us all dangers weigh and nothing do 
 Unless all Q)uncilIors affix their seals. 
 
 Cborus of Jlngels: 
 
 strophe. 
 
 How glares the noble front of Heaven ! 
 
 Why streams the holy light so red 
 
 Upon our face, overspread 
 
 With mournful mists from darkness driven ? 
 
 What sad cloud hath profaned 
 
 That pure and never-stained 
 
 Clear sapphire, wondrous bright. 
 
 The fire, the flame, the light soo 
 
 Of the resplendent Power, 
 
 Omnipotence ? Why doth that glow 
 
 Of God as black as blood thus grow« 
 
 That in our aery bower 
 
 32s
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 So pleased oor eyes ? O Angels, say 
 
 The cause of this deep gloom now dimming 
 
 Your radiance ? O'er Adam's sway 
 
 On choral raptures ye were swimming, 
 
 On Spirit breath, amid a glow 
 
 That vault and choir and court below 5"o 
 
 And towers and battlements o'erflooded 
 
 "With showers of gold, while joys unclouded 
 
 Smiled from the brows of all that live : 
 
 Who is it can the reason give ? 
 
 £l)oru$ of Jftidds: 
 
 Antistrophe. 
 
 When Gabriel's trumpet, richly sounding, 
 
 Inflamed our souls till a new song 
 
 Of praise burst forth among 
 
 Those dales, with roses fair abounding, 
 
 'Mid the celestial bowers 
 
 Of Paradise, whose flowers 52° 
 
 Did ope, joyed by such dew 
 
 Of praise, then upwards through 
 
 The vast seemed Envy stealing. 
 
 A countless host of Spirits dumb, 
 
 And wan and pale and sad and grum, 
 
 In crowds, dire woe revealing, 
 
 326 
 
 1
 
 ACT n. 
 
 Ocpt slowly past, with drooping eye. 
 
 And forehead smooth now frowning rimple. 
 
 The doves of Heaven here on high. 
 
 Once innocent and pure and simple^ sy» 
 
 Began to sigh, and seemed to grieve 
 
 As if e'en Heaven they did believe 
 
 Too small since Adam was created. 
 
 And man for such a crown was fated. 
 
 This stain offends the Eye of Light x 
 
 It flames the face of the Infinite, 
 
 In love we would yet mingle in their ranks : 
 Again to calm this restless discontent. 538 
 
 327
 
 LUCIFERIANS. CHORUS OF ANGELS. 
 
 Cuciferians: 
 
 I OW oft belief proves but delusive hope ! 
 Alas! flow things have changed. 
 
 We deemed no rank 
 Than ours more happy in this rising 
 Realm, — 
 Yea, thought our state even like unto God^s own, 
 More blessed than Earth and e^er unchangeable,— 
 Till Gabriel met us with his trumpet bold. 
 And from the golden port the hosts astounded 
 With this new-made decree, that shall deprive 
 The Angels of the good, the highest good, 
 
 3 -'9
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 First from the Godhead's breast to them out- 
 poured, lo 
 How is our glory dimmed ! We now behold 
 The beauty and the dazzlingf radiance 
 That streamed so proudly from our ancient splen- 
 dor 
 In darkness quenched. We see the Hierarchies 
 Of Heaven thrown into confusion stran8:e, 
 And man to such a rank, to such proud heigfht 
 Exalted, that we tremble even as slaves 
 Beneath his sway. O unexpected blow 
 And change of lot ! Ah ! comrades in one grief. 
 Ah I come and gather round in groups and sigh 2° 
 And weep with us together here. 'Tis time 
 To rend this shining raiment, meet for feasts. 
 To voice our plaints ; for none can this forbid. 
 Our gladness fades and our first sorrow dawns. 
 Alas ! alas ! ye choristers of Heaven, 
 O brothers, tear those garlands from your brows 
 And change the blithesome livery of joy 
 For sorrow's gruesome garb. Oh ! droop your eyes. 
 Seek shadows even as we ; for sorrow shuns 
 The light. Let each one raise his voice to ours 30 
 And utter fearful plaints. Drown in your grief ; 
 Sink down in mournful thought. To voice your 
 
 woe, 
 
 330 
 
 m
 
 ACT m. 
 
 The bof dcncd heart relieves. Now joy to groan : 
 For gfroaningf heals the smart. Now shoot aloud^ 
 As with one voice, and follow these our woes : 
 Alas ! alas ! where is our bliss departed ? 
 
 £boru$ Of Jlitdeis: 
 
 What plaint arises here, unpleasant sound ? 
 
 The Heavens shrink back in fright. This air on 
 
 high 
 Hath not been wont to hear the wail of woe 
 On sad notes sobbing through these joyful vaults. 4° 
 Nay, wreaths and palms and loud triumphal 
 
 song 
 And tuneful harps are far more meet for us. 
 What can this be ? Who crouches here with head 
 Down-hanging, sad, forlorn, and needlessly 
 Oppressed ? Who gave them food for grief ? 
 
 Who can 
 The reason guess } O fellow choristers. 
 Come then, 'tis needful that we ask the cause 
 Of their lament and this dark cloud of woe, 
 That robs our splendor of its radiance 
 And dims and dulls the bright translucent glow 50 
 Of the eternal fe'ast. Heaven is a court 
 Where joy and peace and all delights abound. 
 
 Grief never nestled 'neath these lucid eaves, 
 
 331
 
 LUCIP'ER. 
 
 Nor woeful pain. Ah ! fellow choristers, 
 Oh ! come, console them in their heaviness, 
 
 Cucifcrians: 
 
 Alas ! alas ! where is our bliss departed ? 
 
 Companions dear in our high happiness, 
 
 Oh ! brothers, why ? Oh ! sons of the glad Light, 
 
 Why thus depressed at heart ? Who gave you 
 
 cause 
 Thus to complain and thus to mourn ? Ye had 60 
 Begun to lift your heads aloft to Heaven, 
 To bloom amid the day, whose lustre streams 
 From God's deep glow. The Heavens brought 
 
 you forth 
 To mount in rapid flight from firmament 
 To firmament beyond, from court to court ; 
 To flit amid the shadeless light content, 
 In one delightful life, an endless feast ; 
 And e'er to taste the heavenly manna sweet 
 Of God's eternity, among your friends 
 In peaceful joys. Oh ! why ? This is not meet 70 
 For dwellers of the Spirit world. Oh ! nay. 
 Nor meet for Dominations, Powers, and Thrones, 
 
 332
 
 Alas I alas I where Is our bliss departed ? "
 
 ACT m. 
 
 Nof for the rtiling; Heavens. Ye gforgfc your grief. 
 And sit perplexed and dumb. Give voice to your 
 Necessity : reveal it to yoor friends. 
 Reveal your heart-sore, that we may relieve* 
 
 Cucifcrians: 
 
 O brothers, can ye ask with earnestness 
 Why we thus grieve ? Did ye also not hear 
 What Gabriel's trump revealed : how we through 
 
 this 
 New-given command, down from our state are 
 
 thrust 80 
 
 Into a slavery of Earth and of 
 
 As many souls as from a little blood 
 
 And seed may haply spring ? What have we done 
 
 Amiss ? how erred, that God a water-bubble. 
 
 Blown full of vapid air, exalts. His sons. 
 
 The Angels, to abase ? — a bastardy 
 
 Exalts, formed out of clay and dust ? But now 
 
 We stood as trusty pillars, consecrate 
 
 Unto His court, adorned our various place 
 
 As faithful members of His Realm ; and now, v» 
 
 In one brief hour, we are expelled and shorn 
 
 Of all our dignity, — oppressed, alas ! 
 
 Too sternly and with too much heaviness* 
 
 The charter and the primal privilege 
 
 335
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Received from God are now by Him repealed* 
 And there where we had thought to rule with God 
 And under God^ shall now this Adam reign, 
 Triumphant in his seed and blood forever. 
 The sun of Spirits hath set for them too soon. 
 Ah ! comrades, hear our sorrow and our woes, i^o 
 Alas I alas ! where is our bliss departed ? 
 
 €boru$: 
 
 And doth the charge that Gabriel brought from 
 
 God 
 You thus disturb ? This but a frenzy seems. 
 Who dares to reprehend the high command ? 
 Who so presumptuous himself against 
 The Godhead to oppose ? To give to God 
 His honor and His Right, to rest upon 
 His law, this is our bounden charge. Who dares 
 To enter here with God^s Omnipotence 
 In such dispute ? His word and nod and will "o 
 Serve as our law and pace and precept firm. 
 Who contradiction breathes doth break the seal 
 Of the Most High. Obedience doth please 
 The Ruler of this Realm far more than smell 
 Of incense or divinest harmonies. 
 Ye are (oh ! be ye not so vain, we pray. 
 
 Of boasted lineage) created more 
 
 336
 
 ACT m. 
 
 For such subjection than for rulership. 
 O brothers, cease this wailing and lament. 
 And bow beneath the yoke of the Power Su- 
 preme. I20 
 
 Cuciferians: 
 
 Say rather 'neath the yoke of swarming ants. 
 
 €Doru$: 
 
 Whene'er it pleases Him, ye should submit. 
 
 Cucifcrians: 
 
 What have we done amiss } The reasons tell. 
 
 Cborus: 
 
 Amiss ? Impatience doth God's crown offend. 
 
 Cucifcrians: 
 
 Through sorrow we complain, through discontent. 
 
 Cborus: 
 
 Ye should instead your will resign to God. 
 
 Cuciferians: 
 
 We rest upon the Rights given us by law. 
 
 €Doru$: 
 
 Subject to God your Rights and law remain. 
 
 337
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Euciferians: 
 
 How can the greater to the lesser yield ? 
 
 €boru$: 
 
 Who is resigned — to serve God is to rule. 130 
 
 Cucifcrians: 
 
 Most freely, let but man rule there below. 
 
 Cborus: 
 
 Though small his lot, man lives in sweet content* 
 
 Cucifcrians: 
 
 But man is destined for a higher lot. 
 
 Cftorus: 
 
 Ages shall come and go ere this shall be. 
 
 Cucifcrians: 
 
 An age below is but an instant here. 
 
 €boru$: 
 
 Thus be it, if it be command supreme. 
 
 Cucifcrians: 
 
 Far better were this mystery ne^er disclosed. 
 
 338
 
 ACT ni. 
 €boru$: 
 
 God in His kindness thus reveals His heart. 
 
 Cuciferians: 
 
 Yet kinder towards mankind, now placed above. 
 
 €boru$: 
 
 Allied with God's own nature, wonderful ! 140 
 
 Cucifcrians: 
 
 O Angels, would that God did pair with you ! 
 
 €boru$: 
 
 What pleases God is ever rigfhtly praised. 
 
 Cudfcrians: 
 
 How could He thus exalt mankind so higfh ? 
 
 €bortt$: 
 
 Whatever God does, or yet may do, is well. 
 
 Cucifcrians: 
 
 How man shall dim the crown the Angels wear ! 
 
 €l)orM$: 
 
 All Angels shall the God incarnate praise. 
 
 33Q
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 £ucifcrian$: 
 
 And worship clay and dust down in the dust ? 
 
 £boru$: 
 
 And praise God's name with odors and with songf. 
 
 Cucifcrians: 
 
 And praise mankind, constrained by higher Powers? 
 
 APOLLION. BELIAL. CHORUS. 
 
 JTpolliott: 
 
 What murmur this? Dost hear a strife of 
 tongues ? '5° 
 
 Belial: 
 
 What throngs lament here, plunged in sable hue, 
 With veils girt round the breast and loins ? None 
 
 would 
 Believe that one among the Spirits, amid 
 The joys unending and the feast eterne, 
 Ojuld mourn, did we not see this wretched throng 
 Cast down in woeful grief. What great misfor- 
 tune, 
 What dire disaster them disturbs ? Oh ! how ? 
 
 340
 
 ACT m. 
 
 O brothers^ what doth cause this sad lament ? 
 Who hath offended you? Your Rights we^II 
 
 guard. 
 O brothers^ speak. Why miserable ? the cause ? ^60 
 
 €borus: 
 
 They make complaint of man^s approaching state 
 And triumph, as proclaimed by Gabriel's trumpet ; 
 That he outranks the Angels and that God 
 Shall join His Being to Adam's — all the Spirits 
 Thus made subordinate unto man's sway. 
 This briefly, clearly, states their sorrow's cause. 
 
 Hpolllon: 
 
 'Tis hard such inequality to bear. 
 
 Belial: 
 
 It almost goes beyond our utmost strength. 
 
 Cbcrus: 
 
 We pray your aid this difference to compose. 
 
 JTpOlliOtt: 
 
 What remedy ? How can we them appease ? '7° 
 
 They rest secure upon their lawful Rights. 
 
 341
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 £boru$: 
 
 What Rights ? The same power that or daineth 
 
 laws 
 Hath might to abrogate those laws as welL 
 
 JipOlliOtt: 
 
 How thus can Justice unjust verdicts speak ? 
 
 Chorus : 
 
 G)rrect God's verdicts, thou ! "Write thou His laws ! 
 
 Belial: 
 
 The child doth follow in his father's steps. 
 
 £bortt$: 
 
 To walk where He hath trod is Him to heed. 
 
 JlpOlliOtl: 
 
 The change in God's own will doth cause this 
 strife. 
 
 €ftoru$: 
 
 While one He settcth on a throne, He casts 
 
 Another down : the one least worthy must 'So 
 
 Unto the son more favored then submit. 
 
 342
 
 ACT m. 
 
 Belial: 
 
 Equality of grace would best become 
 The Godhead* Now the darkness dares to dim 
 The light celestial, while the sons of night 
 Defy the day itself. 
 
 Cborus: 
 
 Whatever doth breathe 
 May rightly the Creator praises bring, 
 Who each his being gave and onto each 
 Gave his degree. Whenever it plcaseth Him, 
 The element of earth shall change to air, 
 To water, or to fire ; the Heaven itself, '90 
 
 To Earth ; an Angel, to a beast ; mankind. 
 To Angels or to something new and strange. 
 One Power rules over all, and thus can make 
 The proudest tower become the humblest base. 
 The least received is in pure mci y given. 
 Here is no choice. Here wit and knowledge fail. 
 In such unlikeness doth God's glory lie. 
 So see we with things lightest weighed those 
 
 things 
 Of greatest weight, which thus e'en heavier grow : 
 Thus beauty fairer glows o'er beauty glossed, 2°° 
 Hue cast o'er hue, the diamond splendor over 
 The blue turquoise ; so see 'gainst odors odors, 
 
 343
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 The ligfht intense against the glimmer dim, 
 
 The galaxies unto the stars opposed. 
 
 Our place within the universal plan 
 
 Thus to disturb, into confusion all 
 
 Things throwing that once God did there dispose 
 
 And place ; and all the creature may arrange ; 
 
 This is mis-shapen to the inmost joint. 
 
 Cease, then, this murmuring. The Godhead can 21° 
 
 The state of Angels miss ; nor aided is 
 
 By others' service ; for the glorious Realm 
 
 Eterne nor music needs, nor incense, nor 
 
 These odors swung, nor harmonies of praise. 
 
 Ungrateful Soirits, be still : your base tongues 
 
 curb. 
 Ye know not God's design. Be ye content 
 With your established lot, and unto God 
 And Gabriel's decree yourselves submit. 
 
 Jlpollion: 
 
 Is then the high state of the ruling Spirits 
 
 So changeable ? They stand on slippery ground. 220 
 
 How pitiable their lot ! how miserable ! 
 
 €boru$: 
 
 Because a lesser in this Realm shall reign ? 
 
 We shall remain as now : how are we wronged } 
 
 344
 
 ACT m. 
 
 Belial: 
 
 They are the nighest God, their refuge sure 
 And Father : they upon His breast have lain : 
 Now lies a lesser one more close than they* 
 
 Cborus: 
 
 For one to grieve o'er others' bliss shows lack 
 
 Of love, and scents of envy and of pride« 
 
 Let not this stain upon the purity 
 
 And brightness of the Angels thus remain. 23° 
 
 To strive in concord, love, and faithfulness. 
 
 The one against the other here, doth please 
 
 The Father, who all things in ranks ordained. 
 
 Belial: 
 
 So they maintain the rank the Heavens them 
 
 gave; 
 But hardly can endure man's slave to be. 
 
 Cftorus: 
 
 That's disobedience, and from their rank 
 They thus shall fall away. Thou seest how, too. 
 The hosts of Heaven, in golden armor clad 
 And in appointed ranks arrayed, keep watch. 
 Each in his turn ; how this star sets and that 240 
 
 Ascends ; and how not one of all on high 
 
 345
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 The lustre dulls of others there more clear, 
 
 Nor yet of those more dim ; how some stars, too, 
 
 A greater, others lesser orbits trace : 
 
 Those nearest to Heaven most swift and those 
 
 beyond 
 More slowly turn : yet midst this all, among 
 These inequalities of light, degree. 
 And rank, of orbit, kind, and pace, thou sccst 
 No discord, envy, strife. The Voice of Him 
 Who ruleth all this measured cadence leads, aso 
 That listens and Him faithfully obeys* 
 
 Belial: 
 
 The firmament remains, as God decreed. 
 Had it not pleased Him thus to disarrange 
 The state of Angels, they would not, as now. 
 Awake the stars from their harmonious peace, 
 Nor thus disturb with plaints these quiet courts. 
 
 €borus: 
 
 Beware lest thou this discontent shouldst flame. 
 
 Jlpollion: 
 
 We would this lowering cloud might leave our sky 
 Before it bursts and sets the vast expanse 
 
 346
 
 ACT m. 
 
 Of Heaven in flames. They grow in numbers. 
 "Who =«6o 
 
 Shall them appease ? Who cometh hitherwar d ? 
 
 LUCIFERIANS. BELZEBUB. CHORUS. 
 
 Cucifcrians: 
 
 Alas ! alas ! where is our bliss departed ? 
 
 BCIZCDUD: 
 
 AH gfoeth well : we g:ain increase. In g:rief 
 
 The Ang:els now assemble, and in woe 
 
 Their heads they droop together. What doth 
 
 move 
 You, Angel hosts, with sighs and groans to mourn ? 
 Can, then, the bloom of happiness thus fade ? 
 In peace all to possess that Spirit can wish 
 From God, the Giver — doth even this content 
 You not? Ye therefore stand in your own 
 
 light, 270 
 
 And cherish moumfulness, whose cause I can 
 Nor fathom nor discern. Gjme, cease your 
 
 groans. 
 Nor longer tear your standards and your robes 
 Without a cause ; but clear your clouded face 
 
 And darkened forehead with new radiance^ 
 
 347
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 O children of the Light ! The voices shfill, 
 Whose deep-resounding songs the Godhead praise, 
 Grow faint, displeased that ye should mingle with 
 Their godlike melody such spurious sounds 
 And bastard tones. Your bitter moan doth mar 280 
 The rhythm of the celestial palace till 
 These vaults re-echo with your woe. The wail 
 Of sorrow through the highest arches rolls, 
 From sphere to sphere : nor without crime can ye 
 By such sad discord thus the growth disturb 
 Of God^s great name and glorious majesty. 
 
 Cuciferians: 
 
 Chief Lord, whose potent word unnumbered bands 
 
 "Would call to arms, thou comest most opportune 
 
 To soothe our misery and to prevent 
 
 By thy great power this threatened injury 29° 
 
 And undeserved disp-race. Shall Gabriel 
 
 The sacred crown of the holy Angels place 
 
 On Adam's head : through Adam's son and heir 
 
 Crush God's first-born ? 'Twere better far had we 
 
 Not been made ere the splendor-dazzling sun 
 
 His chariot mounted and in Heaven shone. 
 
 The Godhead chose in vain the Spirits as guards 
 
 Of these immobile courts, if thus He shall, 
 
 Against their vested Rights, Himself oppose ; 
 
 348 
 
 I
 
 ACT m. 
 
 Who guiltless to resistance are provoked 3<» 
 
 By dire impatience and necessity. 
 
 We were rejoicing here^ enraptured with 
 
 The praise to God outpoured, were bowing low 
 
 In deep humility, and worshipping 
 
 'Mid burning censers with devotion flamed : — 
 
 All-quivering with the rippling notes, the Heavens, 
 
 From choir to choir, unto the sound gave ear — 
 
 Yea, melted slowly in delicious joy, 
 
 "With song and harp enchanted— when the trump 
 
 Of Gabriel 'mid the rising harmony 31° 
 
 Blew that decree, and midst the glory fell 
 
 This sudden thunderbolt of night. There lay 
 
 We all amazed, dispersed, with gloom depressed. 
 
 The gladness died away. Hushed were the 
 
 throats 
 Pregnant with praise. The youngest son was 
 
 given 
 The crown, the sceptre, and the blessing, while 
 The eldest-born, thus disinherited. 
 By Majesty Supreme, marked as a slave 
 Remains. That is the part obedience. 
 Devotion, love, and faithfulness receive 320 
 
 From God's rich treasury, that mourning brings ; 
 That wrath enkindles, and thoughts of revenge, 
 
 Grown out of righteous hate, to smother in 
 
 349
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 His kIoo(l this upstart man^ ere he shall crush 
 The Angels in their state ; and they be forced^ 
 As base and craven slaves, with fetters bound. 
 To run before his lash and at his will, 
 Even as he keeps the beasts beneath in awe. 
 Chief Lord, thou canst prevent our fall, and by 
 Our charter yet preserve our Rights : protect 330 
 Us by thy power. We are prepared even now 
 To follow 'neath thy standard and command. 
 To be thy troops. Lead on. *Tis glorious 
 To battle for one's honor, crown, and Right. 
 
 BClZCDUb: 
 
 Methinks that thou art wrong. O King of Lords, 
 'Twere better to avert this. Give no cause 
 For mutiny or discord : give no cause 
 Whereby Rebellion grows. What remedy ? 
 How reconcile you with the Majesty 
 Supreme ? 
 
 Cuciferians: 
 
 He doth transgress the holy Right 34° 
 Once to the Angels given. 
 
 Belzcbubt 
 
 The lawful Rights 
 
 Of subjects to transgress can them inflame, 
 
 350
 
 ACT m. 
 
 And fires enkindle that the very air 
 Would soon consume. How poor a recompense 
 For stainless faith ! How shall we best conduct 
 Ourselves amid this mournful hopelessness } 
 
 CuciferUns: 
 
 'Twill comfort us one bold attempt to make* 
 
 Belzcbub: 
 
 What venture this ? Adopt a softer pace. 
 
 £ucifcrian$: 
 
 This violence needs, compulsion, and revenge. 
 
 BelzeDui): 
 
 We might, mayhap, a safer method choose. 350 
 
 Euciferians: 
 
 Delay would bring us here not gain, but loss. 
 
 BelzeDuD: 
 
 One should his wrong with reason understand. 
 
 CucifcrUns: 
 
 Reason doth publish here : we are oppressed. 
 
 351
 
 LUCIFER, 
 
 Belzcbub: 
 
 With prayers ye first and best might gain your 
 end. 
 
 CucifcrUns: 
 
 This plot to bare would foil its execution. 
 
 BclzeDub: 
 
 Scarce can such plot be hidden from the light. 
 
 CuciferUns: 
 
 "We're gaining fast, and stand in equipoise. 
 
 BelzcbuD: 
 
 Their chance is best who with God^s Marshal fight. 
 
 Eucifcrians: 
 
 This can be righted ne'er by fright nor moan. 
 
 BelzcbuD: 
 
 But what say Belial and Apollion ? 360 
 
 Cucifcrians: 
 
 Both are with us, and strengthen our array. 
 
 BclZCbUD: 
 
 How gained ye them ? 'Tis far, indeed, progressed. 
 
 35* 
 
 I
 
 ACT m. 
 
 Cucifcrians: 
 
 The Heavens flow toward us now with teeming 
 floods* 
 
 BelzebuD: 
 
 Trust not in armies formed of wavcringf throngs* 
 
 Cuciferians: 
 
 Even now advantage towers^ and danger flees. 
 
 BClZCDUb: 
 
 "Who rashly dares should not advantage claim* 
 
 Cuciferians: 
 
 All on the issue hangs. Before the event 
 All judgment errs. The gathered hosts demand 
 Thee as their leader and their sovran chief 
 In this our expedition. 
 
 Belzcbub: 
 
 But who could 370 
 
 Be so bereft of wit as to defend 
 Your righteous cause^ and by such course provoke 
 The battled hosts of Heaven ? Aye, to yourselves 
 Be ye more merciful. Exempt me from 
 This charge. I choose to hold a neutral place. 
 
 Deliberation will yet make things right. 
 
 353
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 €boru$: 
 
 O ! brothers^ hear. Through mediators take 
 Unto God's Throne your supplications sad. 
 More ground is won by mediation than 
 Rebellion's steep ascent. With coolness act : 380 
 With reason and deliberation weigh. 
 We will on high your Rights defend. Be calm : 
 Ye offend the crown of God, the Lord of Lords. 
 
 Cucifcrians: 
 
 And ye, our vested Right : be ye less bold. 
 Lord Belzebub, advance our lawful claim. 
 Place all the legions now in battle line. 
 We'll follov/ thee together. 
 
 BClZCbUD: 
 
 Stay, O think. 
 
 Ye flaming zealots, think, I pray you, farther. 
 I will precede you to the palace grand, 
 Unto the Throne, and there our Rights obtain 390 
 Through peaceful means and mutual covenants. 
 Made voluntarily and uncompelled, 
 
 Cborus: 
 
 Be still ! be still ! thou art by Michael spied.
 
 ' Be still 1 be still ! thou art by Michael spied.'*
 
 ACT m. 
 
 MICHAEL. BELZEBUB. LUCIFERIANS. 
 
 Where are we ? What great noise arises here ? 
 
 This seems a court of tumult and dispute. 
 
 Instead of peace, obedience, and faith. 
 
 Prince Belzebub, what reasons move thee thus, 
 
 Head of rebellious hordes, to aid a cause 
 
 So pregnant with such godless treachery. 
 
 Against that God the refuge of us all ? 400 
 
 BcUcbub: 
 
 Mercy, O Michael ! Deem us worthy words 
 Explanatory, ere in zealous wrath 
 Thou dost thy sentence for God^s honor pass. 
 Impute to us no guilt. 
 
 micbacl: 
 
 Your innocence 
 Establish. I shall patiently attend. 
 
 BeUebuD: 
 
 The assemblage of so many thousand troops, 
 Disturbed by God's command, through Gabriel's 
 
 trumpet 
 From out the Throne of Thrones proclaimed, de- 
 mands 
 
 357
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Some mediation that shall quench this flame ; 
 Wherefore I came to gain a better sense 410 
 
 Of the ground of their complaints, to quell as 
 
 best 
 I could this mutiny. But they began 
 With frantic haste and raving recklessness 
 To force their clamorous claims upon me. I 
 Then made attempt their forces to disperse 
 (Let to my faith these faithful choristers 
 Their witness bear), to counsel that they pour 
 Their grievances before God's Throne ; but 'mid 
 This tumult and this clamor, vain my zeal, 
 As if to calm a sea swollen to the skies. 42° 
 
 Let now the Field-marshal lead on ; we arc 
 Prepared to follow, if he see a way 
 To smooth this difference. 
 
 Who dares oppose 
 Himself to God and His most holy will ? 
 And who so bold these warlike banners thus 
 To plant within the virgin Realm of peace ? 
 If ye through envoys wish to treat on high. 
 For your defence, we will your cause assume 
 And mediate with God that He forgive : 
 Or else beware your heads ! This ne'er succeeds. 430 
 
 358
 
 ACT UI. 
 
 Cuciferians: 
 
 And wouldst thou then oppress our holy Right 
 By force of arms ? Unto the Field-marshal 
 They were not given for such purpose dire* 
 We rest alone upon our vested Rights. 
 Most bold and strong is conscious righteousness. 
 
 Itlicbacl: 
 
 Least righteous he who would rebel 'gainst God. 
 
 Cuciferians: 
 
 We serve God. He has for His service found 
 
 Us ever worthy. Let the Heavens remain 
 
 In their first state. Nor let the honored sons 
 
 Of the Fatherland celestial thus be placed 44^ 
 
 Beneath mankind in rank and dignity. 
 
 For such disgrace the Thrones and Hierarchies, 
 
 The Powers and Dominations^ high and low, 
 
 Of Spirits, of Angels, and of great Archangels, 
 
 Shall ne'er endure. Ah ! nay, although, forsooth. 
 
 Thy lightning spear should pierce them, breast on 
 
 breast. 
 Through their most faithful hearts. From Adam's 
 
 race 
 We never shall such bold defiance brook. 
 
 359
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 micbacl: 
 
 I will that each depart, even as I wave 
 
 My hand. He God and Godhead doth oppose, 450 
 
 Who now, forsworn, 'gainst us shall take his 
 
 stand. 
 Depart unto your posts. That is the duty 
 Of soldiers and of loyal sons of Heaven. 
 What violence ? What impious threat is this ? 
 Who wages war, save 'neath my banner bold. 
 Doth fight 'gainst God and doth oppose His Realm. 
 
 Cuciferians: 
 
 Who wards his Right need fear no violence. 
 Nature made each defender of his Right* 
 
 niicbaci: 
 
 'Tis my command ye lay your weapons down. 
 Such gathering breaks your honor and your 
 oath. 460 
 
 Cuclferians: 
 
 The hosts Angelic are by nature bound 
 
 In union strong. They stand or fall together. 
 
 Not one alone is touched in this dispute. 
 
 But one and all. 
 
 360 
 
 I
 
 ACT m. 
 
 "Would ye with weapons then 
 In such tumultuousness the Heavens embroil ? 
 These were not given you to use ^g-ainst God. 
 Abuse your power, then fear the Power Supreme. 
 
 Cuciferians: 
 
 The Stadtholder we hourly here await. 
 In haste he hath been summoned to attend. 
 "We'll venture all, 'gainst Gods arraying Gods, 470 
 Rather than thus our Rights resign through force. 
 
 micbaci: 
 
 So great an indiscretion I shall never 
 From Heaven's Stadtholder await. 
 
 Cuctferians: 
 
 It seems 
 More like an indiscretion thus to place 
 Those older and first born, like servile slaves. 
 Beneath the yoke of him, the youngest-born. 
 But that the Angels now defend their kind. 
 And here against their peers, in rank and state 
 And being, contend, is indiscretion called. 
 
 michael: 
 
 O stiff-necked kind, ye are no longer sons 480 
 
 Of Light ; but rather are a bastard race, 
 
 361
 
 I 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Which yields not even to God. Ye but ptovoke 
 The lightning stroke and wrath implacable. 
 Harden your hearts, lo ! what calamity 
 And what a fall for you reserved ! Ye heed 
 Nor counsel nor advice. We^ll see what us 
 Enjoined is on high by Voice Supreme. 
 Come, then ; I wish now all the choristers 
 And hosts yet righteous and yet virtuous 
 To part, at once, from these rebellious throngs. ■ 
 
 EMCifcrians: 
 
 Let part who will ; but we shall keep together. 
 
 Itlicbael: 
 
 Come follow, O ye faithful choristers, 
 God^s Field-marshal behind. 
 
 £uciferian$: 
 
 Depart in peace. 
 
 BELZEBUB. LUCIFER. LUCIFERIANS. 
 
 Belzcbub: 
 
 The Field-marshal, in haste, to God hath gone. 
 Bearing complaint. Keep heart : Prince Lucifer 
 Speeds hither ward on winged chariot. 
 
 Ye should therefore at once deliberate. 
 
 362 
 
 I
 
 ACT m. 
 
 Helpless the battled host without a chief : 
 As to myself, the post is far too grave. 
 
 Cucifcr: 
 
 Afar and wide, the Heavens vibrate and shake 500 
 With the sound of your disputes. The legions 
 
 stand 
 Divided, split in twain. The tumult wins 
 Increase. Our great necessity enjoins 
 Much prudence here, disaster to prevent* 
 
 Cucifcrians: 
 
 Lord Stadtholder, of all the Spirits brave. 
 Retreat and refuge sure, we hope that thou 
 Shalt ne^er, as Michael, doom the neck of the 
 
 Angels 
 To be thrust ^neath the feet of Adam^s brood, 
 And then, as he, go gild and bloom this shame 
 And insult with the show of equity ; 51° 
 
 And with thy might sustain the bold ascent 
 Of man, this gross and Earth-bom race. To God, 
 By him so seldom seen, what incense brings he ? 
 Why stand we charged to serve a worm so base. 
 To bear him on our hands, to heed his voice ? 
 Made God the boundless Heavens and Angels then 
 
 For him alone ? 'Twere better far had we 
 
 363
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Never been made^ sooth, had wc never been. 
 Oh I pity, Lucifer, do not permit 
 Oor Order now so low to be abased, 530 
 
 And, guiltless, to decline, while man, thus made 
 The Chief of Angels, e^er shall shine and glow 
 Amid the splendor inaccessible. 
 Before which Seraphim as shadows fade. 
 With dreadful trembling. If thou^lt condescend 
 So great injustice in this Realm to quell. 
 And shalt maintain our Rights, we swear together 
 E^er to support thy mighty arm. Then grasp 
 This battle-axe. Help us our Rights to ward. 
 We swear, by force, in majesty undimmed, 530 
 
 To set thee on the Throne for Adam made. 
 We swear with one accord support. Then grasp 
 This battle-axe. Help us our Rights to ward. 
 
 Eucifer: 
 
 My sons, upon whose faith and loyalty 
 
 No stain of treason lies, all that God wills. 
 
 All He demands of us, is right : I know 
 
 No other law ; and stay, as Stadtholder 
 
 Of God, His late decree and His resolve 
 
 With all my might. This sceptre which I bear, 
 
 To my right hand the great Omnipotent 540 
 
 Gave, as a mark of mercy and a sign 
 
 364
 
 ACT ni. 
 
 Of His love and affection for us all. 
 
 Doth now His mind and heart to Adam turn, 
 
 And doth it please Him now to set mankind 
 
 In full dominion us above — them over 
 
 Both you and me to crown, though in our charge 
 
 We ne'er grew weary, yet what remedy ? 
 
 Who will oppose such resolution here ? 
 
 Had He to Adam given an equal rank, 
 
 A nature like unto the Angel world, 550 
 
 It were supportable for all the sons 
 
 Of Heaven, sprung from God's lineage ; now let 
 
 Them be displeased, if such displeasure be 
 
 On high not counted as a stain. However, 
 
 There is a danger on each side — to yield 
 
 Through fearfulness, or boldly to oppose* 
 
 I wish that your resentment He forgive* 
 
 Cuciferians: 
 
 Lord Stadtholder, aye, grasp this battle-axe. 
 Protect our holy Right. We'll follow thee. 
 We'll follow on. Lead thou with speedy wings : 560 
 We'll perish, or triumphant overcome. 
 
 Euclfcr: 
 
 That breaks our oath and Gabriel's command. 
 
 36s
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Cucifcrians: 
 
 That violates God's self, sets man above* 
 
 Eucifcr: 
 
 Let God His honor. Throne, and majesty 
 Himself preserve. 
 
 Eucifcrlans: 
 
 Do thou preserve thy throne. 
 As pillars we will stay thee, and the state 
 Of the Angel world as well. Mankind shall never 
 Our crown, the crown of God, tread in the dust. 
 
 EMCifer: 
 
 Soon shall the Field-marshal, gfreat Michael, armed 
 With blessings from on high, 'gainst us appear, 57° 
 With all his host. His army 'gainst your own — 
 How great the difference ! 
 
 Eucifcrians: 
 
 If not one half. 
 At least a third part of the Spirits, thou 
 Shalt sweep with thee, when thou shalt join our 
 
 side. 
 
 366
 
 ACT m. 
 
 Cucifcr: 
 
 Then shall we venture all, out favor lost 
 To the oppressors of your lawful Right. 
 
 Cuciferians: 
 
 Courage, hope, insult, sorrow, and despair. 
 
 Prudence and injury and vengeance for 
 
 Such inequality, not otherwise 
 
 Composed ; all this, and what on this depends, 580 
 
 Shall nerve our arms to strike the blow. 
 
 BclzebuD: 
 
 Even now 
 The Holy Realm is in our power. Whatever 
 May be resolved, our weapons shall enforce. 
 Our arms shall soon compel. Once place us here 
 In battle rank, and they who waver yet. 
 Soon toward our side shall lean. 
 
 EttclTcr: 
 
 I trust me, then. 
 This violence with violence to oppose. 
 
 BelzebuD: 
 
 Mount, then, these steps. O bravest of the brave ! 
 
 Lord Stadtholder, we pray, ascend this throne. 
 
 That thee we now allegiance may swear. 590 
 
 367
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Cucifer: 
 
 Prince Belzebub, bear witness ; also ye, 
 
 O Lords illustrious ; Apollion, 
 
 Bear witness thou, and thou, Prince Belial bold, 
 
 That I, constrained by necessity 
 
 And by compulsion, shall advance this cause. 
 
 Thus to defend God's Realm and to ward off 
 
 Our own impending ruin, 
 
 Bclzcbub: 
 
 Then bring on 
 Our standard, that we may, beneath its folds. 
 Swear God allegiance and our Morning-star. 
 
 Cuciferidns: 
 
 We swear alike by God and Lucifer. 600 
 
 BclzebuD: 
 
 Now bring the censers on, ye faithful hosts. 
 Faithful to God. Praise Lucifer with bowl. 
 Rich with perfume, and flaming candle-sticks : 
 Him glorify with light and glow and torch. 
 Extol him then with poem, music, song. 
 Trumpet and pipe. It doth behoove us now 
 Him with such pomp and splendor to attend : 
 
 Raise, then, sonorous lays to his great crown. 
 
 368
 
 ACT m. 
 
 €l)oru$ of Cuciferidns: 
 
 Forward, O ye hosts, Lucifer's minions ; 
 
 Banners wave ! «"> 
 
 Marshal now your bands, spread your swift pin- 
 ions — 
 
 On, ye brave ! 
 Follow your God where his drumbeats command. 
 
 Guard well your Rights and Fatherland. 
 Help him Michael now hurl to confusion. 
 
 War, your mood ! 
 Fightingf 'gainst Heaven for Adam's exclusion, 
 
 And his brood ! 
 Follow this hero to trumpet and drum. 
 
 Protect our crown, whatever may come. 620 
 See, oh ! sec now the Morning-star shining ! 
 
 In that light 
 Soon shall our foe's proud flag be declining 
 
 Into night ! 
 Now in triumph we crown God Lucifer : 
 
 Come worship him ; revere his star. 
 
 €boru$ of JltigeU; 
 
 strophe. 
 What sad surprises waken. 
 
 Since Heaven's civil war 
 Burst with divisive jar ; 
 And blindly hath been taken 630 
 
 369
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 The sword for mad attempt ! 
 Who 'mong celestial legions. 
 
 Or wins or falls, exempt 
 From grief, to view in the regions 
 
 Of joy such misery 
 ^Mong their fellows and their brothers j 
 
 How some, overcome, would flee, 
 While in exile wander others ? 
 
 O sons of God on high. 
 
 Where errs your destiny ? ^v> 
 
 Aiitistrophe. 
 
 Alas ! where now those erring 
 
 Spirits ? What sorcery 
 
 From their dear certainty 
 Seduced them, vainly luring 
 
 Them from their rank and state ? 
 Led them to wicked daring ? 
 
 Our bliss became too great. 
 Too wanton for our bearing ; 
 
 E'en Heaven's altitude 
 The Angels were outgrowing ; ^so 
 
 And then came Envy's brood, 
 Seeds of Rebellion sowing 
 
 In the peaceful Fatherland. 
 
 Who cools War's lurid brand ? 
 
 37° 

 
 ACT m. 
 
 Epode. 
 
 Doth not soon some power transcenciing' 
 
 War's fierce flames in bounds enchain, 
 What will unconsumed remain ? 
 
 Treason's horrors are impending ; 
 Fires of discord shall profane 
 Heaven and Earth and sea and plain. 
 
 Treason seeks her justifying 
 
 In her triumph ; then she would 
 
 God's own mandates be defying : 
 
 Treason knows nor God nor blood. 
 
 660 
 
 664 
 
 371
 
 GABRIEL. MICHAEL. 
 
 Gabriel: 
 
 HE whole of Heaven glows with the 
 fierce blaze 
 Of tumult and of treachery. I now 
 G)mmand thee, as ambassador from 
 God, 
 And His high Throne, to rise without delay 
 And burn out with a glow of fire and zeal 
 These dark, polluting stains in God's great name. 
 And in the name of the unstained Heavens. 
 Prince Lucifer defies with trump and drum. 
 
 373
 
 LUCIFER. 
 Has Lucifer, alas ! been faithless found ? 
 
 Qabriel: 
 
 The third part of the Heavens swore but now ^° 
 The standard of that fickle Morningf-star 
 Their firm allegfiance, perfumed his throne 
 With incense, even as if he were a God ; 
 And with the blasphemous sounds of godless music 
 Him praises sang. Now hitherward they come, 
 Thronging with mighty hordes that threaten all, 
 How terribly I to burst with violence 
 The gate that leads unto the armoury. 
 A crash of tempests fierce and wild doth roar 
 On every side. The lightnings rage and rave. 2° 
 The thunders, in their travail laboring. 
 Shake even the ponderous pillars of these courts. 
 We hear no Seraphim, nor sounds of praise. 
 Each sits apart, enwrapped in voiceless gloom. 
 Now hushed at once are all the Angel choirs. 
 And then again they cry aloud in grief 
 And in their pity o'er this blind revolt 
 Of the blessed Angel world, and o'er the fall 
 Of the Angelic race. Aye, 'tis full time 
 That thou perform thy charge, that thou ob- 
 serve 3° 
 
 374
 
 "Each sits apart, enwrapped In voiceless gloom."
 
 '' ACT IV. 
 
 The sacred oath that thou, as Field-marshal, 
 Didst swear upon the lightning^s lurid edge. 
 By God's most holy name. 
 
 mubael: 
 
 What, then, doth move 
 God's Stadtholder thus to oppose himself 
 Against God, as the impious head and chief 
 Of mad conspirators ? 
 
 Gabriel: 
 
 The Heavens know 
 How loth I am to make in such a way 
 Defence of God's most righteous cause. But oh ! 
 How terrible the wrath laid up for him ! 
 For we can find no means by which to lead 4° 
 This erring race of blind unfortunates 
 Along the road, the high-road of their faith. 
 Myself saw there the radiant joy of God 
 Itself o'ershadow with a gathering cloud 
 Of mournfulness, until, at last. His wrath 
 A flame enkindled in His eyes of light, 
 Ere He, to ward the threatened blow, gave charge 
 Unto this expedition. I then heard 
 Awhile the plea, how there in equipoise 
 God's Mercy stood against His Righteousness, 50 
 By weight of reason held. I saw, too, how 
 
 377
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 The Cherubim^ upon their faces fallen. 
 
 Cried with one voice, " Oh ! mercy, mercy, Lord ; 
 
 Not justice give/* This dire dispute had thus 
 
 Been expiated, yea, almost atoned, — 
 
 So much seemed God to mercy then inclined, 
 
 And reconciliation ; but as up 
 
 The smell of incense rose, the smoke beneath 
 
 To Lucifer, from countless censers swungf, 
 
 Amid the sounds of trump and choral praise, 60 
 
 The Heavens their eyes averted from such sight 
 
 And such idolatry, accursed of God 
 
 And Spirit and all the Hierarchies above : 
 
 Then Mercy took its flight. Awake to arms ! 
 
 The Godhead summons thee, ere the tumult us 
 
 Surprise, to tame by thine own arm these fierce 
 
 Behemoths and Leviathans, who thus 
 
 Most wickedly conspire. 
 
 micbael: 
 
 Come, Uriel, squire ! 
 Haste speedily and bring the lightnings here ; 
 Also my armor, helm, and shield. Then bring 70 
 God^s banner on, and blow the trumpet bold. 
 To arms! at once, to arms! ye Thrones and 
 Powers, 
 
 "Who, true and faithful, are with us arrayed. 
 
 378
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 Yc legions, on ! each in his place. The Heavens 
 Have given command. Now blow the trumpet 
 
 bold 
 And beat the hollow drum, and summon here, 
 In haste, the countless cohorts of the armed. 
 Blow, then ! My armor, I put on ; for here 
 God's honor is concerned. There's no retreat. 
 
 Gabriel: 
 
 This armor fits thy form as if 'twere made s» 
 
 With thee. Behold ! our glorious banner comes. 
 From which God's name and ensign grandly 
 
 beam. 
 While yon high sun doth promise thee success. 
 Here come the chiefs, to greet thee as the head 
 Of the celestial legions that have sworn 
 God's standard to uphold. Take courage, then. 
 Prince Michael, thou shalt battle for thy God. 
 
 micbacl: 
 
 Aye ! aye ! Keep thou my place on high. We go. 
 
 Gabriel: 
 
 Thy march we'll follow with our thoughts and 
 prayers. 
 
 379
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 LUCIFER. BELZEBUB. LUCIFERIANS. 
 
 tucifcr: 
 
 How holds our army ? How is it inclined ? 9° 
 
 Belzcbub: 
 
 The army longs^ prepared^ ^neath thy cx)mmandt 
 To plung:e at once against Michael's armament, 
 
 Cuciferuns: 
 
 *Tis true ; each waits for Lucifer's command 
 To haste at once, with speedy wings and arms, 
 To steal away from our great enemy 
 His air and wind, and, as he lies confused 
 In helpless swoon, to chain him forcibly* 
 
 Cucifer: 
 
 How many strong our host ? "Wherein our strength? 
 
 Belzebub: 
 
 That grows apace and sweeps on toward us with 
 A rush and roar from every firmament, 1°° 
 
 Like a vast sea aglow with radiant lights. 
 Indeed, a third part of the Heavens embrace 
 Our side, if not the half ; for Michael's tide, 
 On every hand, each moment swiftly ebbs*
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 The half, even of the watch and of the chiefs 
 That round the palace guard — of every rank. 
 Of every Hierarchy some — have forsworn 
 Their lord, Prince Michael, even as we. Behold 
 Archangels, Cherubim, and Seraphim 
 Our standards bearing. Even Paradise, "« 
 
 Made mournful by the sounds of woe, grows dim 
 In hue, and its bright verdure fades. Wherever 
 The eye doth look, there seem signs of decay ; 
 And up above a threatening thunder-cloud 
 Doth seem to hang. This portent bodes our bliss. 
 We need but to begin. Already doth 
 The crown of Heaven rest upon thy brow. 
 
 Ettclfcr: 
 
 That sound doth please me more than Gabriels 
 
 trump. 
 Attend and listen, ye, beneath this throne ; 
 Attend, ye chiefs ; attend, ye valiant knights, 12° 
 And hear our charge, in words both clear and 
 
 brief. 
 Ye know how far in our revengeful course. 
 Against the Ruler of the palaces 
 Supreme, we have advanced : so that it were 
 For us but folly to retreat with hope 
 
 Of reconciliation ; how none dares 
 
 381
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 To think to purify, through mercy, this 
 Our stain indelible : necessity 
 Must therefore be our law, a stronghold sure, 
 From which there is no wavering nor retreat. 130 
 Defend ye then, neVr looking back, with all 
 Your might, this standard and my star : in brief 
 The free-created state all Angels own. 
 Let things proceed however they will, press on 
 With heart undaunted and with cheerfulness. 
 Not even the Omnipotence on high hath power 
 Completely to annihilate the being 
 That ye have once, for all eternity, 
 Received. In case ye fiercely shall attack 
 With your whole force, and pierce with violence 
 The heart of your great foe, and chance to win : 
 So shall the hated tyranny of Heaven 
 Into a state of freedom then be changed. 
 And Adam^s son and seed, crowned us above 
 In honor, with a retinue of Earth 
 Around, shall not then chain your necks unto 
 The fetters of a slavish bondage that 
 Would make you sweat for him and pant beneath 
 The brazen yoke of servitude forever. 
 If now ye own me as the head and chief ^so 
 
 Of your free state, even as just now ye swore 
 With one full voice beneath this standard bright, 
 
 382 
 
 140
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 So raise that binding oath again together, 
 That we may hear ; and swear allegiance 
 ■ And loyalty unto our morning-star. 
 
 Cuciferians: 
 
 We swear alike by God and Lucifer. 
 
 But see how Rafael with the branch of peace, 
 
 Astounded and compassionate, flies down 
 
 To clasp thy neck, with hope of peace and truce. 
 
 RAFAEL. LUCIFER. 
 
 Kafacl: 
 
 Oh ! Stadtholder, Voice of the Power Divine, '^o 
 "What thus hath driven thee beyond the path 
 Of duty ? Wouldst thou now thyself oppose 
 To Him, the source of all thy pomp ? Wouldst 
 
 thou 
 Now rashly waver, and thus change thy faith? 
 I hope this ne^er shall be. Alas I I faint 
 With grief, and hang upon thy neck oppressed 
 And wan. 
 
 Euclfer: 
 
 Most righteous Rafael I 
 
 38i
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Rafael: 
 
 O my joy, 
 My longfing, hear me now, I pray. 
 
 Eucifer: 
 
 Speak on, 
 So long it pleaseth thee. 
 
 Rafael: 
 
 O Lucifer, 
 Be merciful ! Oh I save thyself ; nor bear 170 
 
 Thy weapons thus 'gainst me, who sadly melt 
 In tears, and pine in sorrow for thy sake. 
 I come with medicine and mercy's balm, 
 Sprung from the bosom of the Deity, 
 Who, as within His Council He decreed. 
 Hath made thee chief of myriad crowned Powers, 
 And thee, anointed, placed upon thy throne 
 As Stadtholder. What folly this, that thus 
 Deprives thee of thy wit ? God hath His seal 
 And image stamped upon thy hallowed head >8o 
 And forehead, where all beauty seemed outpoured. 
 With wisdom and benevolence and all 
 That flows in streams unbounded from the fount 
 Of every precious thing. In Paradise, 
 Before the countenance of God's own sun. 
 Thou shon'st from clouds of dew and roses fresh ; 
 
 384
 
 ACT rv. 
 
 Thy festal robes stood stiff with pearl, turquoise, 
 And diamond, ruby, emerald, and fine gold ; 
 Twas thy right hand the weightiest sceptre held ; 
 And as soon as thou didst mount into the light, iq:> 
 Throughout the blazing firmament and through 
 These shining vaults the sounds began to roll 
 Of trumpet and of drum. And wouldst thou now 
 So rashly hurl thyself from thy great throne ? 
 — Thus jeopardize thy glory, all this pomp ? 
 Wouldst thou thy splendors that the Heavens 
 
 adorn 
 And that obscure our glow so heedlessly 
 Now cause to change into a shapeless lump 
 And complication of all beasts and monsters 
 In one, with claw of griffin, dragon^s head, 200 
 And other horrors terrible ? And shall 
 The eyes of Heaven, the stars, see thee so low. 
 Deprived of all thy power, thy honor, worth. 
 And majesty, through perjuring thine oath ? 
 Prevent it, O good God, whose countenance. 
 Amid the Blessed Light, I gaze upon. 
 Where we, the hallowed Seven, do Him serve. 
 Before His Throne, and shake and tremble ^neath 
 That Majesty that on our forehead beams, 
 That quickens, and that life doth give to all 21° 
 
 That live and breathe. Lord Stadtholder, let now 
 
 3S5
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 My prayers affect thy heart. Thou know'st my dL 
 
 pure " 
 
 Intent, and heart distressed for thee. Tear off i 
 
 That shining: crest so proud, that armor toss 
 Aside. The battle-axe cast from this hand. 
 Thy shield then from the other : nay, not thus. 
 Not higher. Oh ! throv/ it now aside, I pray. 
 Oh I cast it down. Let fall thy streaming standard 
 Of thine own free will, also thine outstretched 
 
 wings, 
 Before God and His splendor, ere He shall 220 
 
 Fro 11 out His Throne, the highest firmament 
 Of iiOnor, swoop to grind thee into dust : 
 Yea, so that of the race of Spirits, nor branch 
 Nor root, nor life nor even memory, 
 Remain ; unless it be a state of woe. 
 Of pain, of death and of despair, the worm 
 Endless remorse, and a gnashing dire of teeth 
 Should bear the name of life. Submit thou, then. 
 Cease this attempt. I offer thee God^s grace. 
 Even with this olive-branch. Accept, or else 
 'Twill be too late. 
 
 Ettcifer: 
 
 Lord Rafael, I nor threat 
 
 Nor wrath deserve. My heroes both by God 
 
 3S6 
 
 230
 
 4° 
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 And Lucifer have sworn, and under oaths 
 
 To Heaven have raised this standard thus aloft* 
 
 Let rumors, therefore, far and wide be spread 
 
 Throughout the Heavens : I battle under God 
 
 For the defence of these His choristers, 
 
 And for the Charter and the Rights which were 
 
 Their lawful heritage ere Adam saw 
 
 The rising sun : yea, ere o^er Paradise ^ 
 
 The daylight shone. No human power, no yoke 
 
 Of man, shall plague the necks of Spirits, nor 
 
 shall 
 The Angel world, like any servile slave. 
 Support the throne of Adam with its neck. 
 Unfettered now, unless in some abyss 
 The Heavens shall bury us, together with 
 The sceptres, crowns, and splendors that to us 
 The Godhead from His bosom gave, for time 
 And for eternity ! Let burst what will, 
 I shall maintain the holy Right, compelled 250 
 
 By high necessity, thus urged at length. 
 Though much against my willp by the complaints 
 And mournful groans of myriad tongues. Go 
 
 hence. 
 This message bear unto the Father, whom 
 I serve, and under whom I thus unfurl 
 
 This warlike standard for our Fatherland* 
 
 387
 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Rafael: 
 
 O Stadtholder, why thus disgfuisc thy thoughts 
 Before the all-seeing Eye ? Thy purpose thou 
 Canst not conceal. The rays flashed from His face 
 Lay bare the darkness, the ambition that 260 
 
 Thy pregnant spirit reveals in all its shape* 
 And lo ! even now its travail hath begun 
 This monster to bring forth. Where shall I hide 
 Me in my fright ? How rise my hairs with fear I 
 Thou erring Morning-star, oh ! spare thyself ! 
 Thou canst not satisfy Omniscience 
 With such deceit. 
 
 Euclfcr: 
 
 Ambition ? Say me, then, 
 Where hath my duty suffered through neglect ? 
 
 Kafael: 
 
 What hast thou in thy heart of hearts resolved ! — 
 ** I shall mount up from here beneath, through all 270 
 The clouds, aye, even above God^s galaxies. 
 Into the top of Heaven, like unto God 
 Himself ; nor shall the beams of mercy fall 
 On any Power, unless before my seat 
 It kneel in homage down ! No majesty 
 
 Shall sceptre dare, nor crown, unless I shall 
 
 388
 
 Thou erring Morning-star, oh I euare thyself."
 
 i
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 First grant it leave out of my towering- throne I** 
 Oh ! hide thy face. Fall down and fold thy wings. 
 Have care to know a higher Power above. 
 
 Cucifer: 
 
 How now ? Am I not then God's Stadtholder ? ^so 
 
 Rafael: 
 
 That art thou, and from the unbounded Realm 
 Thou didst receive a power determinate. 
 Thou rulest in His name. 
 
 Cucifcr: 
 
 Alas! how long? 
 Until Prince Adam shall make us ashamed i 
 When he, placed oVr the Angel world, shall from 
 The bounteous bosom of the Deity 
 His crown receive, and take his seat by God. 
 
 Rafael: 
 
 Even though the sovran Lord should thus divide 
 His power with His inferiors ; though He should 
 Command that man upon his head shall place 290 
 The brightest crown ; him consecrate the Chief 
 Of Spirits, o'er all that crown or sceptre bear, 
 Or e'er shall bear : learn thou submissively 
 
 To bow 'neath God's decree. 
 
 391
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Cucifer: 
 
 That is the stone 
 Whereon this battle-axe shall whet its edge* 
 
 Rafael: 
 
 Thou'lt whet it rashly for thine own proud neck. 
 Think where we are. The Heavens can bear no 
 
 stain 
 Of pride, hate, envy, or malevolence. 
 The wrath of Deity doth threaten soon 
 To wipe this blot away. Here not avails 3°° 
 
 Dissembling. Oh ! that I this blasphemy 
 Could hide from the all-seeing Sun and from 
 The all-penetrating Eye. O Lucifer, 
 Where is thy glory now ? 
 
 Euclfcr: 
 
 My glory was 
 Long since to Adam given, and to his seed* 
 I am no longer called the eldest heir. 
 The son first consecrate. 
 
 Rafael: 
 
 Prince Lucifer, 
 Oh I spare thyself : submit unto the wish 
 Of the Most High. Oh ! deem us worthy now 
 To bear such joyful tidings up above. 3«> 
 
 Each waits with longing eyes for my return* 
 
 392 
 
 I
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 Before thy splendor I most humbly kneel. 
 
 Oh ! for the sake of God, bev/are lest thou 
 
 Encouragement shalt give to mutiny, 
 
 That on thy will and word doth henceforth turn, 
 
 As on its axis. Wouldst thou thus, against 
 
 The courts of Heaven, this air so full of peace 
 
 And holiness, for the first time disturb 
 
 By the clash of countless warring myriads ? — 
 
 Thus to the sound of trump and drum unfurl 320 
 
 These battle-banners bold ? — Thyself to God 
 
 The matchless wrestler thus oppose ? 
 
 Cucifer: 
 
 'Tis we 
 
 That are opposed. Were unto Adam's race 
 
 But given a rank and throne, even similar 
 
 To that the Angels own, 'twere to be borne. 
 
 Now fly, instead, o'er all the roofs of Heaven 
 
 The sparks blown from this burning in the skies. 
 
 Peace ! Angels all, and reverentially 
 
 Your homage bring, for all that you possess. 
 
 To Adam and his seed. To strive 'gainst man 33° 
 
 Is the Godhead to oppose ! Oh ! how could God, 
 
 Within His heart, so low, so deep degrade 
 
 Him whom He for the mightiest sceptre formed : 
 
 A worthiness once sanctified to rule, 
 
 393
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 So sadly thus abase for one so low, 
 
 And thus disrobe of all its splendid pomp, 
 
 And cause it thus to curse the glorious dawn 
 
 Of its ascent — to wish far rather that 
 
 It had remained a shadow without hue, 
 
 A nothing without life ? For not to be 340 
 
 Is better thousand times than such a fall. 
 
 Rafael: 
 
 A vassal's power is no inheritance : 
 It stands free and apart. 
 
 Cucifer; 
 
 This power is then 
 No boon, if power it may be called. 
 
 Rafael: 
 
 Thy place 
 Maintain : or hast thou then forgot thy charge ? 
 Thy place, as Stadtholder, to thee was given 
 That in thy wisdom thou mightst keep all things 
 In peace and order here. And dost thou now. 
 The perjured chief of blind conspirators. 
 Put on this coat of mail to fight thy God ? 35° 
 
 Cucifer: 
 
 Necessity and self-defence compelled 
 
 These arms ; nor wished we to engage with God* 
 
 394
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 Reason would speak, even though our arms were 
 
 dumb. 
 "We fight in Freedom's cause, denied this bliss ? 
 
 Rafael: 
 
 No bliss is glorious, where in one realm 
 
 The embattled squadrons of the state must fight 
 
 Against their peers. Most pitiful it is, 
 
 "When brothers of the selfsame order must, 
 
 At last, even by their brothers be overcome. 
 
 Oh ! Stadtholder, for our sake, and for fear 360 
 
 Of God and of His threatened punishment. 
 
 Send hence thy gathered legions, send them hence. 
 
 Oh I melt, I pray, beneath my prayers. I hear, 
 
 'Tis terrible I the chains a-forging now. 
 
 That thee shall drag, when vanquished and bound, 
 
 In triumph through the skies. And hark! I 
 
 hear 
 A din, and see the hosts of Michael draw 
 "With nearing tread. 'Tis time, yea, 'tis high time. 
 Thou cease this mad attempt. 
 
 "What profits it 
 Even though unto the utmost I repent ? 37° 
 
 Here is no hope of grace. 
 
 395
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Rafael: 
 
 But I assure 
 Thee mercy ; for I now appoint myself 
 Thy mediator up above and as 
 Thy hostage there* 
 
 £ucifcr: 
 
 My star to plunge in shame 
 And darkness : yea, to see my enemies 
 Defiant on my throne ? 
 
 Rafael: 
 
 O Lucifer, 
 Beware ! I sec the lake of brimstone down 
 Below, with opened mouth, gape horribly. 
 Shalt thou, the fairest far of all things ever 
 By God created, henceforth serve as food 380 
 
 For the devouring bowels of Hell's abyss — 
 Flames never satisfied nor quenched? May 
 
 God 
 Forbid ! Oh ! oh ! yield to our prayers. Receive 
 This branch of peace : we offer thee God's grace. 
 
 Ettclfer: 
 
 What creature else so wretched is as I ? 
 On the one side flicker feeble rays of hope, 
 
 396
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 "While on the other yawns a flaming horror. 
 
 A triumph is most dubious ; defeat 
 
 Most hard to shun. In such uncertainty, 
 
 God and His banner to oppose ? — the first 39° 
 
 To be a standard to unfurl Against God, 
 
 His trump celestial and revealed command ? 
 
 — Of rebels thus to make myself the chief, 
 
 And 'gainst the law of Heaven another law 
 
 To oppose ? — to fall into the dreadful curse 
 
 Of a most base ingratitude ? — to wound 
 
 The mercy, love, and majesty of Him, 
 
 The Father bountiful, source of all good 
 
 That e'er was given or may yet be received ? 
 
 How have I erred so far from duty's path ? 400 
 
 I have abjured my Maker : how can I 
 
 Before that Light disguise my blasphemy 
 
 And wickedness ? Retreat availeth not. 
 
 Nay, I have gone too far. "What remedy ? 
 
 "What best to do amid this hopelessness ? 
 
 The time brooks no delay. One moment's 
 
 time 
 Is not enough, if time it may be called. 
 This brevity 'twixt bliss and endless doom. 
 But 'tis too late. No cleansing for my stain 
 Is here. All hope is past, "What remedy ? 
 Hark I there I hear God's trumpet blow without. 
 
 397 
 
 410
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 APOLLION. LUCIFER. RAFAEL. 
 
 JlpOlliOll: 
 
 Lord Stadtholder, awake ! not now the time 
 For loitering. God's Marshal Michael nears, 
 With all his stars and legions, and defies 
 Thee in the open field. The time demands 
 That thou array for battle. Come, advance ! 
 Advance with us : we see the battle won. 
 
 CMclfcr: 
 
 Won } Ah ! that is too soon : 'tis not commenced. 
 The heavy bolt of war should not be weighed 
 Too lightly. 
 
 JlpOlliOtt: 
 
 I saw even in Michael's face 420 
 
 The hue of fright, while all his legions pale 
 Looked backwards. Ah! we long, O doubt it 
 
 not, 
 To humble and destroy them. Lo ! here come 
 The various chieftains with our streaming stan- 
 dard. 
 
 Ewcifcr: 
 
 Each in his rank ! Let each his banner ward. 
 
 Now let the trump and bugle boldly blow. 
 
 398
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 Jlpollion: 
 
 We wait upon thy word. 
 
 Cucifcr: 
 
 Then follow on. 
 As I this signal give. 
 
 Rafael: 
 
 Alas ! but now 
 He stood in doubt suspended : now, despair 
 Incites him on. In what calamities, 430 
 
 Alas ! shall soon the proud Archangel plunge 
 His followers ? Now may he nevermore 
 In joy appear on high unless God shall 
 In His compassion this prevent. Oh ! come, 
 Ye Heavenly choristers, and breathe your prayers. 
 It may be that your supplications, rising. 
 May yet avert this dire, impending blow : 
 Oft prayer can break a heart of adamant. 
 
 CHORUS OF ANGELS. RAFAEL. 
 
 Cftorus: 
 
 O Father, who no incense, gold. 
 
 Or hymnal praise dost dearer hold 
 
 399 
 
 440
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Than the tranquil trust and soul-reposingf . 
 Calmness of him who humbly heeds 
 Thy word^ and where Thy spirit leads 
 
 Doth leave himself in Thy disposing : 
 Thou seest, O Author of us all, 
 Our Spirit-Chief his banners tall 
 
 'Gainst Thee so wickedly unfurling ; 
 
 And how, 'mid roar of trump and drum, 
 On battle-chariot he doth come, 
 
 So blind, and fierce defiance hurling ! 450 
 
 Ah ! heed not their wild blasphemy. 
 And save from endless misery 
 
 The thousand thousand ones deluded, 
 Who, weak, and woefully misled 
 By their proud and rebellious head. 
 
 Are 'mong his legions now included, 
 
 Rafael: 
 
 Spare in Thy mercy, spare, ah ! spare 
 The Stadtholder, who now would wear 
 
 Thy crown of crowns, who, deifying 
 
 Himself, would triumph over all : 460 
 
 From such foul stain, oh ! where else 
 shall 
 
 The cleansing come, him purifying ? 
 
 400 
 
 I
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 Cftorus: 
 
 Oh ! suffer not that soul to die, 
 The fairest e'er seen by Thine eye-. 
 
 Oh ! keep the Archang^el e'er in Heaven ; 
 Let him atone this impious deed, 
 And still retain his rank, we plead ; 
 
 Let not his guilt be unforgiven. 
 
 468 
 
 401
 
 RAFAEL. URIEL. 
 
 Rafael: 
 
 HE whole of Heaven^ from base to 
 topmost cfown 
 Of her chief palaces, resounds with 
 
 As Michaels trumpets blow and banners wave. 
 The field is won. Our shields shine splendidly^ 
 Shaping new suns. From every shield-sun streams 
 A day triumphant forth. Lo I from the fight. 
 See, Uriel proud, the armor-bearer, comes ; 
 And waves the flaming, keen, two-edged sword. 
 
 403
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 That^ whet with Heaven^s wrath and vengeance, 
 
 flashed, 
 Amid the fray, through shield and mail and 
 
 helm lo 
 
 Of diamond, left and right, through all that dared 
 Oppose the all-piercing Power, Omnipotence. 
 O armor-bearer, most austere, who art 
 The executioner on high, and dost 
 With one strong, righteous stroke compose the 
 
 Wrong 
 That would rebel against eternal Right, 
 Blest be thy sword and arm, that thus maintain 
 And guard the honor of our Angel Realm. 
 What praise reserved for thee by Majesty 
 Supreme ! Oh ! pray relate to us the strife : 2° 
 Unfold to us the management of this, 
 The first campaign in Heaven. We listen, then, 
 In expectation rapt. 
 
 Uriel: 
 
 Your wish inflames 
 My spirit to begin, this fearful fray 
 In calmness to describe, with sequence just. 
 Success the army crowns that fights with God. 
 The Field-marshal, great Michael (being warned 
 
 By the envoy of Heaven, who from above 
 
 404
 
 ACT V. 
 
 Flew downward, downward swifter than a star 
 That shoots athwart the sky, with the tidings 
 
 how, 3° 
 
 Against the hig^h decree proud Lucifer 
 Himself so openly opposed, prepared 
 To lead his incense-swingingf worshippers — 
 All who his standard and his morning-star 
 Had sworn their bold allegiance), quickly donned, 
 At Gabriels report — that Herald true — 
 His scaly coat of mail, and with firm voice 
 He forthwith then gave charge to all his chiefs. 
 His captains, lords, and officers to place. 
 In the name of God, the troops in battle rank, 4° 
 That, with united forces and with all 
 Their strength, they might sweep from the airy 
 
 vast 
 Of purest crystalline this perjured scum : 
 To cast in darkness all those Spirits vile, 
 Ere unawares they us surprise. Upon 
 This charge the legions rapidly deployed 
 Themselves in battle-line, as speedily 
 As flies the nimble arrow from the bow. 
 We saw there countless throngs together swarm 
 In bright array and glowing martial pomp, 50 
 
 Until they formed, in serried rank, one firm 
 
 Trilateral host that, like a triangle, 
 
 405
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Thrust out its edg:es sharp upon the eye. 
 We saw a solid mass, like one dense light, 
 Three-pointed, polished mirror-smooth, even like 
 To diamond, and a battle-front advance 
 By God more than by Spirit understood. 
 The Field-marshal towered in the army^s heart, 
 Full-faced before God's banner, with the glow 
 Of lurid lightnings in his lifted hand. 60 
 
 Who courage would preserve, — would victory 
 And triumph e'er attain,— should first have care 
 To make sure of and then to gain the heart. 
 
 Rafael: 
 
 But where the host accursed that us would storm ? 
 
 Uriel: 
 
 It came into the field of daring full 
 
 With all its primal faith, obedience. 
 
 Honor, and oath, and what besides, forgot 
 
 In this base and presumptuous attempt 
 
 'Gainst God, despite our prayers. It swiftly waxed, 
 
 And pointed like a crescent moon its ends. 70 
 
 It sharpened both its points, and these, even like 
 
 Two horns, closed in upon us, as amid 
 
 The Zodiac the Bull doth threaten with 
 
 His golden horns the other animals 
 
 406
 
 ACT V. 
 
 Celestial and the monsters that tevolve 
 Around* Upon the right horn there advanced 
 Prince Belzebub, whose purpose was to clip 
 Our spreading wings^ and also to keep guard. 
 The left horn to Prince Belial was assigned. 
 Thus both stood there in shining panoply, so 
 
 Vying in splendors grand. The Stadtholder, 
 Now Field-marshal 'gainst God, the centre held 
 Of this array, that he might guard the key, — 
 The point strategic of the legions there. 
 The lofty standard, from whose morning-star 
 The day did seem to stream, Apollion 
 Behind him bore, as bravely as he could. 
 In his full glory seated high to view. 
 
 Kdfael: 
 
 Alas! what dares — what dares the great Arch- 
 angel 
 Attempt ? Oh ! if I only could in time 90 
 
 Have brought him to desist. However, now 
 Describe to me the aspect of their march. 
 And with what show the Prince his legions led. 
 
 Uriel: 
 
 Surrounded by his staff and retinue 
 
 In green, he, wickedly impelled by hate 
 
 407
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Irreconcilable, in golden mail, 
 That brightly shone upon his martial vest 
 Of glowing purple, mounted then his car, 
 Whose golden wheels with rubies were emblazed* 
 The lion and the dragon fell, prepared loo 
 
 For speedy flight, with backs sown full of stars 
 And to the chariot joined by pearly traces, 
 Panted for strife, and for destruction flamed. 
 Within his hand a battle-axe he bore. 
 And from his left arm hung a glimmering shield. 
 Wherein his morning-star was artfully 
 Embossed ; thus stood he poised to venture all, 
 
 Rafael: 
 
 O Lucifer, thou shalt this pride repent. 
 
 Thou phoenix 'mongst God's worshippers on high. 
 
 How grand thou dost appear amid thy legions, "o 
 
 With helm, head, neck, and shoulders eminent ! 
 
 How gloriously thine armor thee becomes. 
 
 As if by nature fitted to thy form ! 
 
 Oh I Chief of Spirits, no farther go ; turn back. 
 
 Uriel: 
 
 Confronted thus they stood embattled, troop 
 
 By troop, each in his air and station placed, 
 
 408
 
 ACT V. 
 
 All ranked by files 'neath their respective chiefs. 
 
 Both sides arrayed with fairest pomp to view. 
 
 When furious drum and clarion trumpet sound, 
 
 Their medley resonance nerves every arm "° 
 
 And sharpens every sword ; and mounts on high 
 
 Into the firmament of the holy Light 
 
 Supreme, a din whereat a pregnant cloud 
 
 Of darts doth burst with pealing thunder-showers 
 
 Of fiery hail, a storm and tempest fierce. 
 
 That makes afraid the very Heaven and shakes 
 
 The pillars of its palaces. The stars 
 
 And spheres, perplexed, from their appointed 
 
 paths 
 
 And orbits err, or on their circled watch 
 
 Bewildered stand, not knowing where to turn : 130 
 
 Or East or West, or upwards or below. 
 
 All that is seen is lightning flash and flame ; 
 
 All that is heard is thunder. What remains 
 
 In its primeval place ? That which was once 
 
 The highest now becomes the thing most low. 
 
 The squadrons, when the deep-vibrating shock 
 
 Of their artillery's first volleyed roar 
 
 Has died away, now struggle hand to hand 
 
 With halberd, sabre, dagger, club, and spear. 
 
 All stab and slash, that can. All formed by 
 
 nature '■*° 
 
 409
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 For fell destruction and for greedy spoil i 
 
 Now haste to strike the violating blow. 
 All thoughts of kin and brotherhood have ceased j 
 Nor knoweth any one his fellow more* 
 Above are whirling, like a cloud of dust, 
 Proud crests of pearl with curled locks of hair, 
 And plumes and wings refulgent with a gleam 
 Drawn from the singeing lightning's glow. Be- 
 hold ! 
 In rich confusion mingled, blue turquoise. 
 With gold and diamond, necklaces of pearl, 15° 
 And all that can adorn the hair or head. 
 Wings lopped in twain, and broken arrows, whirl 
 Athwart the sky. A horrid battle-cry 
 Rises from out the cohorts clad in green : 
 Their regiments, in danger, are compelled 
 By our hot onset to retreat. Three times 
 The maddened Lucifer the fight renews. 
 And proudly stays his faltering followers. 
 Even as a rock beats back the ocean surge 
 That, wave on wave, with foaming rage assails '6«- 
 In vain attempt. 
 
 Rafael: 
 
 Indeed, 'tis something this : 
 
 To fight, armed by despair. 
 
 410
 
 ACT V. 
 
 Uriel: 
 
 Tten straightway caused 
 The valiant Michael all the trumps to sound : 
 ** Glory to God ! ** His legions, thus made bold 
 By this their watchword, and by his command, 
 Begin by circling wheels to soar aloft, 
 To gain the wind-side of their battling foe. 
 Who also rises, but with heavier sail. 
 And finally to leeward slowly drifts : 
 As if one heavenward a falcon saw, 170 
 
 Mounting with pinions bold into the sky. 
 Ere that the drowsing herons are aware. 
 Who in a wood, hard by a pleasant mead. 
 Tremble with fright, when from their lofty nest 
 They see their dreaded foe. The heron cries. 
 And, fearful of the falcon^s direful claw. 
 Awaits him on his beak, thus to impale 
 His enemy's soft breast from there beneath. 
 When swoops the falcon with unerring wings 
 Upon his prey. 
 
 Rafael: 
 
 O Lucifer, for thee iSo 
 
 What remedy ? It seems most terrible ! 
 Now art thou in the open field, where port 
 Nor wall defend. A horrid whirlwind soon 
 
 4"
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Shall suddenly swoop down and bury thee 
 Deep in some gulf and bottomless abyss* 
 
 Uriel: 
 
 What fair perspective it was, thus to view 
 
 A hemisphere or crescent moon beneath, 
 
 And up above a point trilateral : 
 
 To see the legions, that upon the word 
 
 Of their commanding chiefs close in their ranks, 190 
 
 Or them deploy, in their battalions stand 
 
 As firm as walls of iron, as if they, 
 
 With all their ordnance, dumb artillery. 
 
 And martial engines, there in equipoise 
 
 Were placed, full-weighted 'gainst the balanced 
 
 air ! 
 They hang suspended like a silent cloud, 
 A cloud whereon the sun doth pour his beams. 
 And which he paints with shade and varied hue 
 And airy rainbows. So then, steeply flown 
 Aloft, the bold celestial eagle sees 2°° 
 
 God's foe, the hawk, circling his flight beneath. 
 He strikes his wings together valiantly ; 
 But brooks awhile the hawk's wild wheeling there. 
 And vain defiance, while he flames ere long 
 To swoop upon his feathered back and pluck 
 
 His glossy plumes : when, in the aery vast, 
 
 412
 
 ACT V. 
 
 With ciitvld beak and talons he shall seize 
 His prey, or drive it, with the wind behind, 
 Far from his eyes. Thus they precipitate 
 Themselves, and stream down from their place on 
 
 high, 
 Even like some inland lake, or waterfall. 
 In some far, Northern wild, that from the cliffs 
 Dashes with thundering resonance that frights 
 The beasts and monsters in deep-hidden dells ; 
 Where from the precipice, rocks, loosened, fall, 
 With massive torrents and uprooted trees 
 In countless numbers, that in their fierce plunge 
 Crush and destroy all that the violence 
 Of stream and stone and wood cannot withstand. 
 The point of the advancing column strikes "» 
 
 The crescent^s centre with assault most fell 
 Of brimstone, ted and blue, and flames, with 
 
 stroke 
 On stroke and quick-succeeding thunderbolts. 
 A piercing cry ascends. Their army^s heart. 
 Endangered, now begins, by slow degrees. 
 To fail support of the accursed one. 
 The half-moon^s bow, beneath the strain, begins 
 To crack and break (for the ends together curve) ; 
 So that they who the centre hold, must yield 
 Before that onset fierce, and flee, if soon 230 
 
 413
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Deliverance be not brought from their distress. 
 
 Prince Lucifer^ swift-driven here and there. 
 
 Approaches at this cry, and fearlessly 
 
 Himself exposes on his car, to show 
 
 His valor in this crisis dire. This gives 
 
 New heart unto the faltering ones. Then, from 
 
 The foaming bit of his now furious team, 
 
 He wards the fellest blows and fiercest strokes. 
 
 The lion and the dragon blue, enraged, 
 
 Leap forward at his word with fearful strides : 240 
 
 One bellows, bites, and rends, while poison shoots 
 
 Out from the other's forked tongue, who thus 
 
 A pest provokes, and, raving, fills the air 
 
 With smoke blown from his nostrils far and wide. 
 
 Rafael: 
 
 Now will the burning strike him from on high ? 
 
 Uriel: 
 
 He waves his battle-axe aloft to fell 
 
 God's banner, that, descending, darts the beams 
 
 And fairer radiance of God's name into 
 
 His glowing face. Oh ! think what envy then 
 
 Him filled, to see this portent on our side. 250 
 
 With battle-axe in hand, now here, now there. 
 
 He parries every stroke, or breaks their force 
 
 414
 
 ACT V. 
 
 Upon his shield, till Michael comes before 
 Him, clad in glitteringf armor, like a God 
 Amid a ring- of suns : " Cease, Lucifer ; 
 Give God the victory. Lay down your arms 
 And standard ; yield to God. Come, lead away 
 This wicked crew, this impious horde. Or else. 
 Beware thy head ! ** Thus shouts he from on 
 
 high. 
 The Grand Foe of God^s name, stiff-necked, un- 
 moved, 260 
 And more defiant at these words, renews 
 The fight with haste precipitate, and thrice 
 "With war-axe strives to cleave the diamond shield 
 "Where glowed God's holy name. But who pro- 
 vokes 
 The Deity shall feel His wrath. The axe 
 The holy diamond strikes, but lo ! rebounds. 
 And shivers into fragments. Then aloft 
 His right hand Michael lifts, and through the 
 
 helm 
 And head of that rebellious one he smites. 
 Helped by the great Omnipotent, his lightnings, 270 
 Cleaving unto his eyes with violence 
 So great that he falls backward, and is hurled 
 Down from his chariot, that forthwith follows 
 
 Him, whirling round and round in its descent % 
 
 415
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Thws lion, dragon, driver, all plunge down. 
 
 The standard of the Star doth cease to shine, 
 
 "When feels Apollion my flaming sword. 
 
 Whereon his banner, straightway, he doth leave 
 
 As plunder in my hands ; while in fierce swarms 
 
 Tumultuous their warring myriads 280 
 
 Attempt, in vain, to stay the falling Chief 
 
 Of all the hosts infernal, and to save 
 
 Him from this fate and great calamity. 
 
 Here fights Prince Belzebub, and there opposed 
 
 Stands Belial. Thus their squadrons are confused : 
 
 And with the Stadtholder^s important fall 
 
 The crescent's bow soon into shivers breaks. 
 
 Then comes Apollion into the field. 
 
 With all the monsters from the firmament. 
 
 The giant Orion shrieks, until the sound 29° 
 
 The very air makes faint ; then with his club 
 
 He strives to crush the head of our assault. 
 
 That, heedless of Orion or his club. 
 
 Moves grandly on. The Northern Bears rear back 
 
 Upon their haunches, that their brutish strength 
 
 May blindly us oppose. The Hydra gapes 
 
 With fifty throats, that vomit poison forth, 
 
 I view a gallery of battle-scenes. 
 
 All happening in the fray, as far as eye 
 
 Can see. 
 
 416
 
 Thus lion, b'ragon, driver, all plunge down."
 
 II
 
 ACT V. 
 
 Kafael: 
 
 Praise be to God ! Upon your knees 300 
 Fall down and worship Him ! O Lucifer^ 
 Ah I where now is that fickle confidence ? 
 In what strang;e shape shall I, alas ! behold 
 Thee soon ? Where now are thy proud splendors, 
 
 that 
 All other pomp so easily outshone ? 
 
 Uriel: 
 
 Even as bright day to gloomy night is changed, 
 
 Whenever the sun forgets his golden glow, 
 
 So in his downward fall his beauty turned 
 
 To something monstrous and most horrible : 
 
 Into a brutish snout his face, that shone 310 
 
 So glorious ; his teeth into large fangs. 
 
 Sharpened for gnawing steel ; his hands and feet 
 
 Into four various claws ; into a hide 
 
 Of black that shining skin of pearl ; while from 
 
 His bristled back two dragon wings did sprout. 
 
 Alas ! the proud Archangel, whom but now 
 
 All Angels honored here, hath changed his shape 
 
 Into a hideous medley of seven beasts. 
 
 As outwardly appears : A lion proud ; 
 
 A greedy, gluttonous swine ; a slothful ass ; 3^0 
 
 A fierce rhinoceros, with rage inflamed ; 
 
 419
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 An ape, in every part obscene and vile, 
 
 By nature lewd and most lascivious ; 
 
 A dragon, full of envy ; and a wolf 
 
 Of sordid avarice. His beauteous form 
 
 Is now a monster execrable, by God 
 
 And Spirit and man e'er to be cursed. That beast 
 
 Doth shrink to view its own deformity. 
 
 And veils with darklingf mists its Gorgon face. 
 
 Thus shall Ambition learn how vain to tilt 330 
 For God's own crown. Where stayed Apollion ? 
 
 ilrici: 
 
 He saw his tide ebb when his star declined. 
 And fled : so fled they all. Then, from above. 
 The celestial ordnance pours forth shot on shot. 
 With lightning flash and rolling thunders loud, 
 Causing the monsters that into the light 
 Have crawled to sv/ell the rout ; and pleased are 
 
 all, 
 With God's array, to aid in such pursuit ! 
 O ! what a whirl of storms in one resolved ! 
 And what a noisy tumult rises round ! 34° 
 
 What floods sweep by ! Our legions, blessed by 
 
 God, 
 
 420
 
 ACT V. 
 
 Advance, and strike and crush whatever they meet. 
 "What cries of pain now burst forth everywhere. 
 As from the fleeing hordes one hears, amid 
 This wild confusion and this change of form 
 In limbs and shapes, their roars and bellowings. 
 Some yell, and others howl. What fearful frowns 
 Those Angel faces wear, the mirrors dread 
 Of Heirs infernal horrors. Hark I I hear 
 Michael return, triumphant, to display, 350 
 
 Here in the light, the spoil from Angels reft. 
 The choristers now greet him with their songs 
 Of praise, with sound of cymbal, pipe, and drum. 
 They come in front, and strew their laurel leaves 
 ^Mid those celestial harmonies around. 
 
 CHORUS OF ANGELS. MICHAEL. 
 
 Hail I to the hero, hail ! 
 
 "Who the wicked did assail ; 
 And in the fight, o'er his might and his standard. 
 
 Triumphant did prevail. 
 
 Who strove for God's own crown, 3&» 
 
 From his high and splendid throne. 
 Into night, with his might, hath been driven. 
 
 How dazzling God's renown ! 
 
 421
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Though flames the tumult fell. 
 
 The valiant Michael 
 With his hand the fierce brand can extinguish : 
 
 All mutiny shall quell. 
 
 God^s banner he doth rear : 
 
 Come^ wreathe his brow austere* 
 Now^ in peace, shall increase Heaven^s Palace: 370 
 
 No discord now we hear. 
 
 Then to the Godhead raise. 
 
 In His deathless courts, your praise. 
 Glory bring to the King of all Kingdoms : 
 
 His deeds inspire our lays. 
 
 Klicbdel: 
 
 Praise be to God I The state of things above 
 
 Has changed. Our Grand Foe has met his defeat ; 
 
 And in cur hands he leaves his standard, helm. 
 
 And morning-star, and shield and banners bold. 
 
 Which spoil, gained in pursuit, even now doth 
 
 hang, 380 
 
 'Mid joys triumphant, honors, songs of praise. 
 
 And sounds of trump, on Heaven's axis bright, 
 
 The mirror clear of all rebelliousness. 
 
 Of all ambition that would rear its crest 
 
 'Gainst God, the stem immovable — grand fount. 
 
 Prime source, and Father of all things that are, 
 
 422
 
 ACT V. 
 
 Which from His hand their nature did receive. 
 And various attributes. No more shall we 
 Behold the glow of Majesty Supreme 
 Dimmed by the damp of base ingratitude. 390 
 
 There, deep beneath our sight and these high 
 
 thrones, 
 They wander through the air and restlessly 
 Move to and fro, all blind and overcast 
 "With shrouding clouds, and horribly deformed. 
 Thus is his fate, who would assail God's Throne. 
 
 Chorus: 
 
 Thus is his fate, who would assail God's Throne. 
 Thus is his fate, who would, through envy, man. 
 In God's own image made, deprive of light. 
 
 GABRIEL. MICHAEL. CHORUS. 
 
 Gabriel: 
 
 Alas ! alas ! alas ! how things have changed I 
 Why triumph here ? Our triumph is in vain : 400 
 Ah ! vain display, these plundered flags and arms ! 
 
 micbdel: 
 
 What hear I, Gabriel? 
 
 423
 
 , LUCIFER. 
 
 Gabriel: 
 
 Oh ! Adam's fallen : 
 The father and the stem of all mankind, 
 Most pitiful and sad ! brought to his fall 
 So soon. He is undone. 
 
 micbacl: 
 
 That bursts even like 
 A sudden thunder-peal upon our ears. 
 Although I shudder, yet I long to hear 
 This overthrow described. Doth then the Chief 
 Accursed, also on Earth his warfare wage ? 
 
 Gabriel: 
 
 The battle o'er, he called his scattered host 41° 
 
 Unto his side, though first his chieftains bold, 
 "Who to each other turned abhorring gaze ; 
 And then, to shun the swift, all-searching rays 
 Of the all-seeing Eye, he veiled them round 
 With gloomy mists, that formed a hollow cloud, 
 A dark, obscure, and gruesome lair of fog. 
 Where shone no light, v/here gleamed no glow of 
 
 fire 
 Save what did shine from their own blazing eyes. 
 And in that dim, infernal consistory. 
 
 High-seated 'mid his Councillors of State, 42° 
 
 424
 
 ACT V. 
 
 With bitter r agfe 'gainst God he thus began : 
 "Ye Powers, who for our righteous cause have 
 
 borne, 
 With such fierce pride, this injury, 'tis time 
 To be revenged for our wrongs : with hate 
 Irreconcilable and furious craft 
 The Heavens to persecute and circumvent 
 In their own chosen image, man, and him 
 To smother at his birth, in his ascent. 
 Ere that his sinews gain their promised strength 
 And ere he multiply. 'Tis my design, 430 
 
 Both Adam and his seed now to corrupt. 
 I know how, through transgression of the law 
 Him first enjoined, to stain him with a blot 
 Indelible ; so that he with his seed, 
 In soul and body poisoned, never shall 
 Usurp the throne from which ourselves were 
 
 thrust : 
 Though it may be that some shall yet ascend 
 On high, a number small and slight ; and these 
 Alone through thousand deaths and suffering 
 And labor shall attain the state and crown 440 
 
 To us denied. Lo ! miseries forthwith 
 Shall follow aft in Adam's wake, and spread. 
 From age to age, throughout the whole wide 
 
 world. 
 
 425
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Even Nature shall, attainted by this blow, 
 
 Almost decay, and wish again to turn 
 
 To chaos and its primal nothingness. 
 
 I see mankind, in God^s own image made, 
 
 From God's similitude debased, estranged. 
 
 And tarnished, even in will and memory 
 
 And understanding, while the holy light 45° 
 
 Within created is obscured and dimmed : 
 
 Yea, all yet in their mother's anxious womb, 
 
 That wait with sorrow for their natal hour, 
 
 I now, forsooth, behold a helpless prey 
 
 To Death's relentless jaws. I shall exalt 
 
 My tyranny with e'er-increasing pride, 
 
 While you, my sons, I then shall sec adored 
 
 As Deities, on altars and in fanes 
 
 Innumerable that tower to Heaven, where burns 
 
 The sacrificial victim, 'mid the smoke 460 
 
 Of censers and the dazzling sheen of gold. 
 
 In praise most reverential. I see hosts 
 
 Of men, whose multitudes are even beyond 
 
 The power of tongue to name — yea, all that 
 
 spring 
 From Adam's loins— for all eternity 
 Accursed by their deeds abominable. 
 Done in defiance of God's name. So dear 
 
 To Him the cost of triumph o'er my crown<' 
 
 426 
 
 J
 
 470 
 
 ACT V. 
 
 micbaci: 
 
 Accursed one^ even yet to be so bold 
 
 In thy defiance 'gainst thy God ! Ere long 
 
 Thou shalt from us this blasphemy unlearn, 
 
 Gabriel: 
 
 Even thus spake Lucifer, and then he sent 
 Prince Belial down, that he forthwith might cause 
 Mankind to fall : who took upon himself 
 The form of that most cunning of all beasts. 
 The Serpent, type of wickedness itself. 
 That he might with a gloss of words adorn 
 His luring snares, which then those creatures pure 
 In guileless innocence even thus received. 
 As, swinging from the tempting bough of knowl- 
 edge, 480 
 That lone forbidden tree, he hung aloft : 
 ** Hath God, upon the pain of death, with such 
 Severity and at so high a price. 
 Deprived you of the freedom of this fruit ? 
 — The taste of even the choicest tree of all ? 
 Nay, Eve, thou simple dove, indeed thou dost 
 Mistake, But once behold this apple, pray ! 
 Aye I see how glows this radiant fruit with gold 
 And crimson mingled ! An alluring feast I 
 
 Yea, daughter, nearer draw ; no venom lurks 49° 
 
 427
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 In this immortal leaf. How tempts this fruit ! 
 Yea, pluck ; yea, freely pluck : I promise thee 
 All light and knowledge. Come, why shouldst 
 
 thou shrink 
 For fear of sin ? Aye, taste, and thus become 
 Equal to God Himself in cognizance. 
 Honor and wisdom, truth and majesty : 
 Even though He much may wish thee to deny. 
 Thus must distinctions be discerned in things, 
 Their nature, entities, and qualities.*' 
 Forthwith begins the heart of the fair bride i <> 
 To burn and to enkindle, till she flames 
 To see the praised fruit, which first allures 
 The eye : the eye the mouth, that sighs to taste* 
 Desire doth urge the hand, all quivering. 
 To pluck. And thus she plucks, and tastes and eats 
 (Oh ! how this shall afflict her progeny !) 
 With Adam, and as soon as then their eyes 
 Are opened and they see their nakedness. 
 They deck themselves with leaves — with leaves of 
 
 figt 
 Their shame, disgrace, and taint original- 
 And in the trees and shadows hide themselves ; 
 But hide in vain from the all-piercing Eye. 
 Then gradually the sky grows black. They see 
 
 The rainbow, as a warning messenger 
 
 428 
 
 510
 
 — Nor wringing hands, 
 NPr sad lament, nor cries avail the pair."
 
 ACT V. 
 
 And portent of God^s plagues, stretched o^er the 
 
 Heavens, 
 That weep, in mourning clad. Nor wringing 
 
 hands. 
 Nor sad lament, nor cries avail the pair. 
 Alas ! the lightnings gleam, with flash on flash. 
 And shaking thunders roll there, peal on peal. 
 And naught is heard but sighs, and naught is 
 
 seen 52° 
 
 But fright and gloom. They even their shadows 
 
 flee; 
 But ne'er can 'scape that dread heart-cankering 
 
 worm. 
 The sting of conscience. Thus, with knees that 
 
 knock 
 Together, step by step they stumble on. 
 Their faces ghastly pale, and eyes, o'er-brimmed 
 With tears, blind to the light. How spiritless. 
 They who but now their heads so proudly held ! 
 The sound of rustling leaf or whispering brook. 
 The faintest noise, doth them confound ; the while 
 A pregnant cloud descends, that bursts and bears, 5 ^ 
 By slow degrees, a light and radiant glow, 
 Wherein the great Supreme appears in shape 
 Impressive, thundering with His Voice, that fells 
 
 Them to the earth. 
 
 431
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 €bortt$: 
 
 Oh ! oh ! 'twere better far, 
 Had mankind ne'er been made. This teaches them 
 By such a juicy fruit to be beguiled. 
 
 Gabriel: 
 
 ** O Adam/' thunders God, ** where art thou 
 
 hid ? " 
 '^ Forgive me, Lord ; I flee thy countenance. 
 Naked and all ashamed." ** Who taught thee 
 
 thus," 
 Asks God, *' thy shame and nakedness to know ? 540 
 Didst dare profane thy lips with the forbidden 
 Fruit ? " " Aye, my bride, my wife, alas ! did 
 
 tempt." 
 She says, ** The wily Serpent hath deceived 
 Me with this lure." Thus each the charge denies 
 Of being the cause of their sad wretchedness. 
 
 €boru$: 
 
 Mercy ! What penalty hangs o'er their crime ? 
 
 Gabriel: 
 
 The woman, who hath Adam thus seduced, 
 God threatens with the pains of tears and travail. 
 And her subjection, and the man with care 
 And labor, sweat and arduous slavery ; 550 
 
 43?
 
 ACT V. 
 
 The soil^ where man^ at last, shall find his gffave, 
 
 With noxious weeds and great calamities ; 
 
 The Serpent, for the sly misuse thus made 
 
 Of his most subtle tongue, shall, o^er the ground. 
 
 Upon his belly creep, and live alone 
 
 On dust and earth. But as a comfort sure. 
 
 In such a misery, to poor mankind 
 
 God promises, in truth, out of the seed 
 
 And blood of the first woman, to raise up 
 
 The Strong One, who shall crush the Serpent^s 
 
 head, 56° 
 
 This Dragon vile, through deadly hate, by time 
 Nor yet eternity to be removed. 
 And though this raging monster make attempt 
 To bite His heel, yet shall the Hero win ; 
 And from the strife shall come with honors 
 
 crowned. 
 I come, in the name of Him, the Highest One, 
 To thee this sad disaster to reveal. 
 Forthwith all things in wonted order place. 
 Ere they, for us, shall further mischief brew. 
 
 micbacl: 
 
 Come, Uriel, armor-bearer, who dost guard 57° 
 
 The Right divine and punishest the Wrong : 
 Take up thy flaming sword : fly down below, 
 
 433
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 And drive the twain from Eden, who have dared 
 
 Transgress, so rash and blind, the primal law. 
 
 Go, guard the gate of the Paradise profaned. 
 
 And forcibly the exiles drive away 
 
 From this rare food, this tree, prolonging life. 
 
 Permit not that they pluck the immortal fruit, 
 
 Nor their abuse of heavenly gifts allow. 
 
 Thou art placed, as sentinel, the garden over, 580 
 
 And o*ct this tree. Then see that Adam shall 
 
 Be driven out, and that from morn to eve 
 
 He plough the field, and till the clayey ground 
 
 From which the breath of God once fashioned 
 
 him. 
 Ozias, to whose hand once God Himself 
 With honor di6. entrust the ponderous hammer 
 Of bright-hewn diamond made, also the chains 
 Of ruby and the clamps so sharp of teeth, 
 Go hence, and capture and securely bind 
 The host of the infernal animals, 590 
 
 Also the lion and the dragon fell, 
 That furiously against our standards rage. 
 Sweep from the sky these hordes accursed, and 
 
 bind 
 Them neck and claw, and chain them forcibly. 
 This key of the black bottomless abyss 
 And all its dungeons is unto your care, 
 
 434
 
 — The eternal fir© 
 Unquenchable, with cbilling frosts commingled."
 
 1
 
 ACT V. 
 
 Azarias, enjoined. Go hence^ and lock 
 
 All that our power assail within those vaults. 
 
 Maceda, take this torch, to you this flame 
 
 Is given : go light the deep lake sulphurous, 60° 
 
 Down in the centre of the Earth, and there 
 
 Torment thou Lucifer, who hath brought forth 
 
 Such numerous horrors, in the eternal fire 
 
 Unquenchable, with chilling frosts commingled ; 
 
 There Grief and Horror and Obduracy, 
 
 And Hunger, Thirst, and comfortless Despair, 
 
 The sting of Conscience, Wrath implacable. 
 
 The punishments given for this mad attempt. 
 
 Amid the smoke from God's deep glow concealed. 
 
 Bear witness to the blasting- curse of Heaven, 610 
 
 Passed on this Spirit impious, the while 
 
 Shall come the promised Seed, the Reconciler, 
 
 Who shall appease the blazing wrath of God, 
 
 And in His wondrous love to man restore 
 
 All that by Adam's trespass has been lost. 
 
 £boru$: 
 
 Deliverer, who thus the Serpent's head 
 Shalt bruise, and who, at the appointed time, 
 Shalt fallen mankind cleanse from the foul taint 
 Original, from Adam's loins derived ; 
 And who again, for frail Eve's offspring, shaft e^o 
 
 437
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Ope here, or h^gh, a fairer Paradise, 
 
 We shall with longing; tell the centuries 
 
 Till the year, day, and hour when shall appear 
 
 Thy promised Mercy, which its pristine bloom 
 
 To pining- Nature shall restore, and place 
 
 Upon the throne whereout the Angels fell 
 
 The souls and bodies Thou hast glorified. 627 
 
 « 
 
 43a
 
 Cbe Critical €ult. 
 
 "I consider your version of the Lucifer the most 
 notable literary achievement in American letters in the 
 decade from 1890 to 1900." — Richard Watson Gilder. 
 
 "It takes a master to translate a master, and the 
 Lucifer of Leonard Van Noppen is a re-creation of the 
 original work; masterful, comprehensive and in every 
 sense a finished production. Full of poetic fire and the 
 magic of the fitting word, it has the imprint of creative 
 genius in every line and is weighted with the per- 
 sonality of a powerful and vivid imagination." — Francis 
 Grierson. 
 
 "Leonard Charles Van Noppen, the translator of 
 Vondel's Lucifer, is a poet of extraordinary power and 
 beauty." — Edwin Markham. 
 
 Comparing the author v/ith George Sterling, says 
 Mr. Markham, in his "California, the Wonderful." "In 
 recent poetry only Mr. Leonard Van Noppen's verse is 
 kindred in lavish word-work and ornate architecture 
 to 'The Wine of Wizardry.' Both men create their 
 poesies with large movement and breadth of treatment 
 — with amplitude of sky and prodigiousness of field, 
 with wash of sunset and rainbow, with march of stars." 
 
 "I feel glad that any sparks of mine have served to 
 enkindle the cassia, nard and frankincense which so 
 prodigally enrich your own altar. Continue, now, to 
 feed their flames with all those resources which the 
 translator of Vondel showed me so plainly that he 
 possessed. Take up your own creative work while in 
 your prime, and in the end you will gain more nobly 
 
 439
 
 THE CRITICAL CULT. 
 
 won, though none more royally couched, tributes of 
 speech than those you offer me." — Edmund C. Stedman. 
 
 "I congratulate you upon your success in the ac- 
 complishment of this very interesting piece of work 
 and hope that it will meet with that recognition among 
 scholars which it deserves. I think there is a large 
 future for the writer." — Henry Van Dyke. 
 
 "I received with much pleasure your Vondel's Lucifer, 
 and as I read it, I was much delighted. It is a pleasure 
 to read the English version of this work." — Josef Israels. 
 
 "I am much indebted to you for the gift of your very 
 handsome translation of the 'Lucifer,' and I am not a 
 little struck by the evidence of literary ability spread 
 over all parts of the volume. I hope your spirited and 
 scholarly enterprise may meet to the full with the 
 success it deserves." — Edmund Gosse. 
 
 "Worthy the genius of Vondel."— Dr. Jan Ten Brink, 
 Professor of Literature, University of Leiden. 
 
 "A beautiful book. It is almost like discovering a 
 new Homer." — Nathan Haskell Dole. 
 
 "A grand yet exquisite work. It is no flattery to 
 say that the issue of this book is one of the most 
 notable events of the age, yet is it not better than 
 praise of one's effort to feel its significance as a centre 
 of spreading thought and inquiry! To think that you 
 are the first to give Vondel's Lucifer to the English 
 reading world!" — Mary Mapes Dodge. 
 
 "I was reading your translation of Vondel last year, 
 and I was very much struck with the resemblance to 
 Milton in form and spirit. The conception of the 
 mental attitude of the fallen angels is one which is 
 certainly very interesting from a psychological as well 
 as a literary point of view."— A. Lawrence Lowell. 
 
 440
 
 THE CRITICAL CULT. 
 
 "The Lucifer has greatly interested me as a revela- 
 tion of one at least of the main sources from which 
 Milton gained his ideas. Your preliminary work to me 
 seems to be admirable, and you have certainly rendered 
 a real service both to history and literature." — Andrew 
 D. White. 
 
 "I wish to thank you for your translation of Vondel's 
 Lucifer. Shall I confess it? It was long ago since I 
 read that great poet, and your work afforded me all the 
 pleasure of an original. As for your splendid chapter, 
 'Life and Times of Vondel,' and your thorough and 
 searching Lucifer's Interpretation, they cannot fail to 
 awaken the keenest interest in the English speaking 
 literary world." — Baron Gevers, Minister from the 
 Netherlands to Washington. 
 
 "Mr. Van Noppen is a man of great literary power, 
 an authority in Dutch literature and is achieving fame 
 as a translator of the masterpieces of the Dutch lan- 
 guage." — Edwin A. Alderman. 
 
 "Your book duly came to hand. I was delighted 
 to see the extraordinary attention it got in 'Literature,' 
 and I congratulate you on the wide interest it has 
 awakened." — W. D. Howells. 
 
 "Many thanks for your curious and interesting vol- 
 ume, my only chance of making acquaintance with the 
 Batavian author." — Andrew Lang. 
 
 "I want to add my small words to the panegyric and 
 tell you with what intense interest and pleasure I have 
 followed your astonishing success. I say astonishing 
 because I wonder how long it is since any one has been 
 able to stir up such keen and general interest over a 
 classic written long ago and in a foreign tongue? How 
 long ago has it been since any classic was so much 
 
 441
 
 THE CRITICAL CULT, 
 
 talked of? When, pray, has a young man made such 
 a contribution to English letters and so interested 
 thinking and scholarly people?" — Willa Gather. 
 
 "It has become a matter of literary tradition, in 
 Holland and out of it, that the choral drama of 'Lucifer* 
 is the great masterpiece of Dutch literature. * * * An 
 era of translation was sure to set in, and it is a matter 
 of significance that its herald has even now appeared. 
 The translation into English of Vondel's 'Lucifer' is not 
 only in and for itself an event of more than ordinary 
 importance in literary history, but it cannot fail to 
 waken among us a curiosity as to what else of 
 supreme value may be contained in Dutch literture."— 
 William H. Carpenter, Professor of Germanic Philology, 
 Columbia University. 
 
 "We heartily rejoice that Vondel's drama has been 
 translated into English by an American for Americans. 
 Were this translation an inferior one, or were it only 
 mediocre, we should have no reason to be glad, but 
 in this case it is otherwise. Although no translation 
 can entirely compensate for the lack of the original it is, 
 however, possible for the original to be followed very 
 closely. This is well shown by this rendering, which 
 to a high degree possesses the merit of accuracy, while, 
 at the same time, the spirit and the character of Von- 
 del's tragedy are felt, understood and interpreted in a 
 remarkable manner. Whoever is in a position, by the 
 comparison of the translation with the original, to form 
 an individual opinion of Van Noppen's superb work, 
 will probably be convinced, even as I have been, that 
 here an extraordinarily difficult task has been magnifi- 
 cently done." — G. Kalff, Professor of Dutch Literature, 
 University of Utrecht. 
 
 "This version of Vondel bridges the gap in the 
 Miltonic Criticism." — Francis B. Gummere. 
 
 44-
 
 THE CRITICAL CULT. 
 
 "Much Esteemed Sir and Friend: 
 
 The distinguished octogenarian poet and author, 
 Nicolaas Beets, of Utrecht, Holland, wrote to Mr. Van 
 Noppen as follows: 
 
 'Much Esteemed Sir and Friend: 
 
 "* * * J have furthermore compared your trans- 
 lation in many a striking passage with the original, 
 which I always held in my hand. * * * Whatever 
 was attainable you not only tried to reach most earn- 
 estly, but you have even most excellently succeeded in 
 attaining. You have absolutely understood and per- 
 fectly rendered the meaning, the action, the spirit and 
 the power of the sublime original. In splendid English 
 verse we read Vondel's soul. Whoever knows Vondel 
 will admit this, and whoever does not at present know 
 him will learn to know and appreciate him from your 
 translation. * * * It is also very plain, from the 
 essays preceding the translation, that you have made a 
 most thorough and comprehensive study of Vondel and 
 of his poetry in connection with the entire field of the 
 literature and history of his time. Though having 
 myself read, and even written, in prose as well as poetry, 
 so much concerning Vondel, I was often so impressed 
 by criticisms and observations in your essays that I 
 felt impelled to revise and complete my own con- 
 ceptions." 
 
 Cbc Jlmcrican Press. 
 
 "Mr. Van Noppen has produced a text which, so 
 far as mere suppleness and naturalness go, might be 
 taken for an original production, and his editorial 
 labors have been considerable." — New York Tribune. 
 
 "There is reason enough for the publication in English 
 
 443
 
 f 
 
 THE AMERICAN PRESS. 
 
 of such a classic as the Lucifer, and it is fortunate that 
 the work could be so artistically done." — Review of 
 Reviews. 
 
 "To compare the two poems — Milton's Paradise Lost 
 and Vondel's Lucifer — is as if one should contrast a 
 great chorale by Bach or Mendelssohn with a magnifi- 
 cent hymn-tune by Sir Arthur Sullivan or William 
 Henry Monk. The epic and the drama are both tri- 
 umphs of skill. Why make comparisons? Rather let 
 the world rejoice in two such possessions." — Phila- 
 delphia Record. 
 
 "It is particularly fortunate that the first English 
 rendering of the great poem is so ably and conscien- 
 tiously done. * * * Finally, the poem is illustrated 
 by fifteen drawings in black and white by the famous 
 Dutch artist, John Aarts, which are printed with the 
 text." — The Bookseller, Newsdealer and Stationer. 
 
 "If only as a literary, or as a human document, 
 shedding light upon the methods of the greatest of 
 English epic poets, Mr. Van Noppen's work would be 
 of infinite value to all students. But the book which he 
 has translated possesses, besides these adventitious 
 claims to respect, a supreme intrinsic value. It is a 
 drama that is everywhere great, and in passages 
 sublime. * * * That the present translation is a good 
 one he who reads can discern. It is strong, nervous, 
 and rhythmical. It is, above all, good English, not a 
 Teutonized hybrid." — New York Herald. 
 
 Mr. Van Noppen's translation is spirited and digni- 
 fied, and there is a distinct lyric charm, which he has 
 managed to preserve — a rare feat with a translator." — 
 Charleston News and Courier. 
 
 "For the reader who desires merely the artistic com- 
 ment of the pictures that thoroughly illustrate this 
 
 444
 
 THE AMERICAN PRESS. 
 
 famous old poem we might add that Mr. Aarts has 
 caught the spirit — the pictorial beauty — of Lucifer as 
 perhaps no other artist of the day could have done. 
 The man himself is a poet, and he has translated into 
 these drawings the majestic tragedy of Lucifer even as 
 Mr. Van Noppen has translated it into stately English 
 verse." — Brooklyn Citizen. 
 
 "Literary societies, university extension circles, and 
 reading clubs are all here furnished with a fresh winter 
 theme whose stages are already plotted out for the 
 worker." — Philadelphia Inquirer. 
 
 "Vondel's Lucifer is one of the most important con- 
 tributions ever made to the catholic literature of the 
 English-speaking world. * * * As a specimen of book- 
 making the volume is a model." — St. Louis Church 
 Progress. 
 
 "We may consider Mr. Van Noppen's translation as a 
 key that has unlocked a literary treasure and put within 
 our reach a classic of Teutonic literature." — Detroit Free 
 Press. 
 
 "The English-speaking literary world is under great 
 obligations to the translator and publisher of this 
 uniquely printed, illustrated, and bound volume." — Rich- 
 mond Dispatch. 
 
 "The present rendering of Lucifer is by Leonard C. 
 Van Noppen, who has made a translation which will 
 link his name with that of the master as Edward Fitz- 
 gerald has bound his up with that of Omar Khayyam." — 
 Buffalo News. 
 
 "A most meritorious translation of the Dutch poet's 
 sublime tragedy, with a great deal of critical and bio- 
 graphical matter in the introductory sections." — Phila- 
 delphia Press. 
 
 445
 
 THE AMERICAN PRESS. 
 
 "This careful translation of the great masterpiece of 
 Dutch literature is one of the important books of the 
 year." — Chicago Tribune. 
 
 "As Lucifer is the greatest work of the Dutch poet's, 
 the fine translation and its elegant setting in the beauti- 
 ful book is most gratifying."— Chicago Inter-Ocean. 
 
 "The translation is as literal as it can be made, and 
 the sonorous tongue of its original author is heard 
 through it all"— Chicago Times-Herald. 
 
 "The translation is ^n earnest and faithful rendering 
 of the poet's ideas, and the verse is technically excellent; 
 in fact, the translation may bid for the exalted place of 
 the original in many libraries." — Times-Union, Albany. 
 
 "The stately sweep of the original verse has not been 
 lost in the transference from one tongue to another. 
 Mr. Van Noppen has, in addition to his translation of 
 the poem, furnished a sympathetic and interesting 
 memoir of the Life and Times of Vondel, and an 
 elaborate, critical and scholarly Interpretation of the 
 Lucifer." — Brooklyn Times. 
 
 "This delightfully printed book is a real work of art, 
 and is a worthy contribution to the history of liter- 
 ature." — Boston Globe. 
 
 "Leonard Charles Van Noppen, the translator, has 
 given to English literature another great classic." — 
 Dramatic Magazine, Chicago. 
 
 "It is a very interesting event that we have Vondel's 
 Lucifer in a scholarly, an accurate, and an admirable 
 rendering into English." — Wilmington (N, C.) Mes- 
 senger. 
 
 446
 
 THE AMERICAN PRESS. 
 
 "If we were asked to give our opinion of this version 
 we should express it in one word — 'masterly.' The 
 powers of expression and the richness of Vondel's 
 thought, together with the rhythmical beauty of the 
 poem, have been preserved in full. It is a masterpiece, 
 and should have a place in every library." — De Grond- 
 wet (Dutch paper), Holland, Mich. 
 
 "In the essay on Vondel's Life and Times we have a 
 singularly able and deeply interesting account of the 
 conditions under which Vondel developed. * * * For 
 the poem itself, like many more of the writings of 
 Vondel, it has been recognized as a classic. Nobody can 
 read it and not feel the sublimity of the inspiration that 
 produced it." — San Francisco Chronicle. 
 
 "The whole thing is new and interesting — introduc- 
 tion, biography and poem. It opens up Dutch liter- 
 ature, the society of the Eglantine, a social field of poets 
 and writers." — Baltimore Sun. 
 
 "Translator, artist and publishers are to be highly 
 commended for the handsome and satisfactory manner 
 in which they have combined to present this celebrated 
 Dutch classic to American readers." — New Orleans 
 Times-Democrat. 
 
 "The translator is Leonard Charles Van Noppen, 
 and he is a poet himself in English. This intel- 
 lectual and temperamental tendency enabled him to 
 make a literal rendering that is not only highly accurate, 
 but that also most admirably conserves the spirit of the 
 original. The book is beautifully illustrated by the 
 Dutch artist, John Aarts. From Mr. Van Noppen's 
 interesting introductory essay on Vondel — a clear, com- 
 prehensive, and convincing exposition, as admirable in 
 style as it is valuable in matter — we learn many inter- 
 esting things concerning this old poet, this unknown 
 
 447
 
 THE AMERICAN PRESS. 
 
 Titan, whom the ablest students of literature place on 
 the same plane with Milton, Dante, and Aeschylus." — 
 The Saturday Evening Post, Philadelphia. 
 
 "In almost every, if not in every individual particular, 
 the book is a model of what such a book should be. 
 Intelligent and scholarly editing, thoughtful considera- 
 tion for all the several needs of students as well as 
 readers, liberal and judicious provision in the matter of 
 accessories, a cultivated and refined taste in decoration, 
 and a true feeling for typographical elegance in each 
 respect of paper, type, margins, edgings, illustrations 
 and binding unite to give this volume a character of 
 genuine excellence and an aspect of chaste elegance such 
 as are not often seen in a single example. The total is a 
 result of such importance and value that we shall 
 describe it item by item." — The Literary World, Boston. 
 
 "Mr. Van Noppen's introductory study of the Life and 
 Times of Vondel is masterly in knowledge of the whole 
 literary atmosphere of the day, with its grand galaxy of 
 writers. * * * Therefore this book will serve another 
 purpose besides that of introducing Anglo-Saxon read- 
 ers to the beauties of Vondel's masterpiece: it will im- 
 fold to them as well the history of Holland's great 
 literary period in all its wealth and beauty. In this 
 translation of the drama itself, which is strictly faithful 
 to the original in spirit, he has succeeded in reproducing 
 to a considerable extent the virility, the majesty, of the 
 original."— The Critic. 
 
 Trotn Sidtted Reviews. 
 
 "Mr. Van Noppen has laid the student of Milton as 
 well as the student of Dutch literature under weighty 
 obligations by a translation of the drama of Lucifer 
 
 448
 
 FROM SIGNED REVIEWS. 
 
 which is not only true to the sense of its original, but 
 also not unworthy of its fame." — Mayo W. Hazeltine, in 
 New York Sun. 
 
 "Vondel's Lucifer is just as readable to-day as it was 
 two hundred and fifty years ago, and in this translation 
 the energetic simplicity of it abides." — George W. 
 Smalley, in New York Herald. 
 
 "We prefer to accept Mr. Van Noppen's translation as 
 he offers it for the worth of the poem itself, and that is 
 sufficient for many a century." — George Henry Payne, 
 in The Criterion, 
 
 "Mr. Van Noppen's translation of the Lucifer in this 
 book is one for which he claims literalness to a close 
 extent; but its fluency is not the less to be noted. Some 
 of the best and most brilliant passages scarcely seem 
 like a translation, so naturally and choicely do the 
 words proceed." — Joel Benton, in The New York Times' 
 "Review of Books." 
 
 "I spent one whole evening comparing Mr. Van 
 Noppen's translation with the original. As far as 
 exactness goes, as far as intimate verbal interpretation 
 of Vondel's verse is concerned, it equals Andrew Lang's 
 wonderful prose translation of the Iliad. By far the 
 most difficult part of this translation must have been 
 
 that of the lyrics and choral passages (after the Greek 
 mode) with which the drama abounds. Mr. Van Noppen 
 has preserved (at what pains) not only the metre and 
 the rhythm, but also the rhymes, often involute and 
 curiously doubled." — Vance Thompson, in Musical 
 Courier. 
 
 "The work evinces not only a mastery of seventeenth 
 century Dutch, but an insight into metrical effects and 
 facility in reproducing them in English. This version 
 
 449
 
 FROM SIGNED REVIEWS. 
 
 could not have come from one who had not drilled 
 himself for years in the theory and practice of English 
 verse. We bespeak for the handsome volume before us 
 a wide circulation. That such a translation has been 
 sorely needed every student of comparative literature 
 knows. That this need has been adequately met every 
 impartial student of Mr. Van Noppen's version will, we 
 believe, readily admit." — Prof. C. Alphonso Smith, 
 Ph.D., in Modern Language Notes, Baltimore, Md., 
 Dec, 1898. 
 
 "The intrinsic value of the work makes the publica- 
 tion of Mr. Van Noppen's translation an event of 
 peculiar literary interest." — John D. Barry, in Boston 
 Literary World. 
 
 Cbc Condon Press. 
 
 "The dramatic masterpiece of the great Dutch poet 
 of the seventeenth century has found a skilled and vigor- 
 ous translator in Mr. Leonard Charles Van Noppen, and 
 the sustained volume is further enriched by a careful 
 memoir of the author of Lucifer and by an elaborate 
 critical Interpretation of the poem. Justice is thus at 
 last rendered to a poet of unquestionable genius and 
 inspiration, of whom everything like a fair estimate has 
 hitherto been hardly possible to an English reader. 
 * * * There is no appeal to the groundlings in the 
 style and quality of the verse, which in Mr. Van 
 Noppen's spirited translation has a march of sustained, 
 or, at least, of rarely failing dignity throughout, and in 
 its intercalated choric passages is by no means wanting 
 in lyrical charm. * * * But after half a dozen, a dozen, 
 a score, of similar parallelisms the odds against chance 
 and in favor of design become so overwhelming that the 
 
 450
 
 THE LONDON PRESS. 
 
 least mathematically minded of men will reject the 
 former hypothesis. The 'long arm of coincidence' is not 
 so long as all that. And, most assuredly, it is not long 
 enough to cover the fact that Milton's Samson Agon- 
 istes followed in due course on Vondel's Samson, and 
 that it abounds in evidences that in the matter of 
 dramatic construction, at any rate, to leave the poetry 
 out of the question, he was content to take his Dutch 
 contemporary as his closely followed model." — London 
 Literature. 
 
 "It is interesting that the first English translation of 
 Vondel's famous play should be made in America and 
 put forth in the old Dutch city of New York. The 
 volume is a handsome one, elaborately gotten up." — 
 London Daily Chronicle. 
 
 "Lucifer is a large, majestic drama, and adorned with 
 several beautiful choric odes." — W, L. Courtney, in 
 London Daily Telegraph. 
 
 "* * * Milton undoubtedly behaved in a light- 
 fingered fashion at the expense of Vondel, not once or 
 twice, but often. * * * After a long lapse of time this 
 matter is reopened by Mr. Leonard Charles Van Noppen, 
 whose volume in praise and explanation of Vondel is a 
 book of quite uncommon merit and charm, and one 
 absolutely indispensable to students of Milton. * * * 
 Of Mr. Van Noppen's success as a translator there can 
 be only one opinion. We have read his version with 
 surprise and delight. Vondel's Lucifer, in nearly all 
 respects, will prove a veritable treasure for the genuine 
 book.lover," — The London Literary World. 
 
 451
 
 I
 
 Board of the Queen milDelmina Cecturesbip, 
 Columbia University 
 
 GENTLEMEN: 
 
 We, members of the "Board of the Queen Wilhelmina 
 Lectureship, Columbia University," Professor Doctor 
 G. KalfF, of the University of Leiden; Member Royal 
 Academy of Sciences of Amsterdam; Leiden. President; 
 J. Heldring, of Heldring & Pierson, Bankers, the 
 Hague; J. W. IJzerman, President of the Royal Nethcr- 
 land Geographical Society at Amsterdam, the Hague; 
 Wouter NijhofF, President of the Dutch Publishers' 
 Association, the Hague; Doctor H. J. Kiewiet de Jonge, 
 President of the General Dutch Alliance, Dordrecht, 
 Hon. Secretary, herewith plead for your co-operation 
 with our endeavors to spread in America a knowledge 
 of our civilization and institutions. Notwithstanding 
 the tremendous influence of Holland upon England and 
 the American Colonies — an influence as yet hardly 
 guessed — the study of the Dutch and their history in 
 the colleges and universities of America is still uni- 
 versally neglected. So little in fact is known of this 
 subject and of Holland's part in civilization that there 
 is even among scholars but little appreciation of the 
 importance of this subject. Only at Columbia Uni- 
 versity is there any evidence of interest. Here our 
 literary representative, Leonard C. Van Noppen, whom 
 we have selected as the pioneer to blaze the way, has 
 inaugurated several courses in Dutch Literature and 
 given besides lectures on the various periods of its 
 development. Since Columbia has been the first to 
 co-operate with us, will not your institution be the 
 
 4Si
 
 BOARD OF THE QUEEN N^^ILHELMINA 
 
 second? If so, will you kindly address Prof. Leonard 
 C. van Noppen, Queen Wilhelmina Lecturer, Columbia 
 University, N. Y.? Mr. Van Noppen will be glad at 
 any time to introduce you to this subject and to lecture 
 on such phases of it as you may deem the most in- 
 teresting. 
 
 We invite your students to our universities. Here is 
 a field which will enrich scholarship with many dis- 
 coveries. The selection of the Hague as the Capital of 
 Peace has given Holland a new international im- 
 portance. Your universities have established chairs in 
 Icelandic, Chinese and Russian, subjects whose im- 
 portance and value are incalculably less than that of 
 Dutch. Is it not time that a beginning be made in 
 this direction? Not even tlie study of the Spanish, 
 the Italian and the French is so fertile of results as 
 that of the civilization of the Netherlands, which, as 
 the mother of the Teutonic Renaissance, influenced 
 the civilization of the English-speaking world so largely. 
 Prof. Butler will, upon application, be glad to give 
 Mr. van Noppen leave of absence to lecture at your 
 university. Mr. Van Noppen has given courses of 
 lectures on this subject at the Lowell Institute, Brook- 
 lyn Institute, Johns Hopkins, Columbia, Michigan, 
 Wisconsin, Minnesota, Cincinnati and many other 
 colleges and universities. 
 
 We add the following notice of his lecture at David- 
 son College, N. C: 
 
 "Davidson, April 20. — It is altogether too seldom that 
 our Southern colleges, certainly it is true of Davidson, 
 are privileged to have with them a lecturer of the type 
 seen in Professor Leonard Charles van Noppen of the 
 Queen Wilhelmina Chair of Dutch Literature in Colum- 
 bia University, who spoke last evening in Shearer Hall 
 and who speaks again this evening and to-night. 
 
 "Doctor van Noppen was introduced by Professor 
 
 454
 
 LECTURESHIP, COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY. 
 
 Thomas W. Lingle, who in a brief speech told of the 
 lecturers right by virtue of birth and training to speak 
 on the topic selected and for a few minutes in an in- 
 structive way pointed out what Holland had contributed 
 to Western civilization and particularly to American 
 life and history, an introduction so full of facts marked 
 with such accurate historical perspective that the 
 Columbia lecturer in making acknowledgment said he 
 felt inclined to take his seat and let Doctor Lingle 
 continue, so familiar did he seem with the subject 
 he himself was to present. 
 
 "To say that Doctor van Noppen's lecture was pop- 
 ular, in the ordinary sense of the word, would do it 
 great injustice. It was too comprehensive in its reach, 
 and strong in its grasp, too scholarly, too suggestive 
 of research and prolonged investigation and study, too 
 elaborate in phrase and too masterful in its discrim- 
 inating use of choice English and ornate diction for 
 any one to call it popular. Its purpose and its value 
 is not of this order. Rather, after listening to such a 
 paper, the scholar is glad that it is doubtless to appear 
 in permanent or book form, where he can study it at 
 leisure. To the college student it serves as a stimulus, 
 an inspiration, an ideal to show him that in his daily 
 routine of class room work he is only laying a founda- 
 tion on which to build and with which he may begin 
 the higher intellectual life, may start out for himself 
 to read, to investigate and in time reduce to consistent 
 and articulated form the results of his own weeks and 
 months not to say years of patient toil in the great 
 libraries. 
 
 "In a very strict sense Doctor van Noppen's first 
 lecture was scholarly and showed clearly that it breathes 
 a university atmosphere and is intended primarily and 
 ultimately for the lecture hall of the Johns Hopkins 
 University, where he is soon to deliver the series. He 
 
 455
 
 BOARD OF THE QUEEN WILHELMINA 
 
 is just now returning from a lecture tour in the West. 
 
 "Beginning with a clever characterization of the 
 people of Holland as a practical one, first reclaiming 
 from the sea a land to live on, and then anchoring it to 
 the continent, in rapid review he showed what a won- 
 derful contribution this little country, less than Mary- 
 land, and small in everything but in history, has made 
 to modern Christian civilization. Washed out of the 
 soil of Germany on toward the sea — and no wonder 
 that Germany looks with envious eyes upon it — it is 
 the richest country imaginable. It has a per capita 
 wealth of $12,000 as against America's $4,000. In pro- 
 portion to population it has done more for civilization 
 than any other nation, not even Greece excepted. Then 
 followed in rapid review the facts of history in sub- 
 stantiation of the claim. 
 
 "Conspicuous in the claims and seemingly substanti- 
 ated was in the influence of Holland in spreading 
 abroad, notably in America, the doctrines of the equal- 
 ity of all men, separation of Church and State, religious 
 freedom, freedom of the press, local self-government. 
 
 "Fine was the description of Philip of Spain, of 
 William the Silent. Interesting was the portrayal of 
 the work of the Chamber of Eglantine of Amsterdam, 
 of the men of letters of Leiden and the intellectual 
 forces leading up to and resulting in the great Uni- 
 versity in Leiden, 
 
 "Most striking of all was his brilliant description 
 of the life and work of the great Dutch poet Vondel 
 and the story of how Milton, the greatest of English 
 Epic poets, has been content to fallow, imitate and copy 
 from Vondel in his Lucifer where Vondel has shown 
 himself the great dramatist." 
 
 The "Baltimore Sun" writes of his lecture at Johns 
 Hopkins: 
 
 "Very frequently since the day when Geoffrey 
 
 456
 
 LECTURESHIP, COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY. 
 
 Chaucer fashioned his immortal 'Canterbury Tales' 
 upon Bocaccio's 'Decameron,' English poets have been 
 subject to the impeachment of having borrowed (usually 
 without proper acknowledgment) from foreign sources 
 — borrowed material, plot, episodes, characters and, 
 sometimes, language, embodied in whole phrases and 
 sentences. The Elizabethan Age, pre-eminent though 
 it was in creative literary excellence, has not escaped 
 the challenge of its originality. French and Italian 
 influences and writers exercised a strongly formative 
 power upon Drayton, Sidney, Spenser and others of 
 the elect, and even the great Bard of Stratford did not 
 scruple at transmuting the clay of less gifted molders 
 into the gold of his superb coinage. 
 
 "But it has not been generally recognized that Milton 
 was such an appropriator. Accordingly, Dr. L. C. 
 van Noppen's lecture showing that the great Puritan 
 poet was indebted to the 'Lucifer' of Vondel, the Dutch 
 author, for the theme, the treatment, the description and 
 even some of the finest passages in 'Paradise Lost/ 
 is a surprise. Yet Dr. Van Noppen makes out a very 
 strong case. The appearance of 'Lucifer' a short time 
 before Milton's Continental tour, which was cut short 
 by the breaking out of the great civil war in England; 
 the strong likelihood that Milton had heard of Vondel 
 and his work through Roger Williams, whose sojourn 
 in Europe had made him acquainted with 'Lucifer,* and 
 who had instructed Milton in modern languages; 
 Milton's association in Paris with Hugo Grotius, one of 
 the most eminent scholars of his time, a countryman 
 and an enthusiastic admirer of Vondel — all combine into 
 a strong chain of circumstantial evidence, which, rein- 
 forced by the undeniable similarity and the many 
 parallel passages in the tv/o great works, make a con- 
 clusion which is almost imperative. 
 
 "But the conceding of Milton's debt to Vondel does 
 
 457
 
 BOARD OF 1,ECTURESHIP, COLUMBIA UNIV. 
 
 not cancel our debt to Milton, whose sublime epic has 
 given pleasure and comfort to scores of readers to 
 whom Vondel's drama has been a sealed volume. 
 Neither does it release our obligation to 'render unto 
 Caesar the things that are Caesar's.' " 
 
 Furthermore, we hope that you will consider the 
 establishment of a chair in Dutch Literature or History 
 and that you, in anticipation of this foundation, will 
 from time to time send us such students as desire to 
 make this subject their specialty. Hoping that you, 
 after a consideration of this matter, will co-operate with 
 us, I am 
 
 Respectfully yours for the Board of 
 the Queen Wilhelmina Lectureship, 
 
 H. J. Kiewiet de Jonge, 
 
 Hon. Secretary. 
 
 DORDRECHT (Holland), November, 1915. 
 
 45?
 
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