Michael monologue (Act 3) — Vondel's Lucifer

Praise be to God! The state of things above Has changed. Our Grand Foe has met his defeat; And in our 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, 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.