Belzebub monologue (Act 2) — Vondel's Lucifer

All goeth well: we gain increase. In grief The Angels 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 mournfulness, whose cause I can Nor fathom nor discern. Come, 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, O children of the Light! The voices shrill. 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.