The Adamus exul of Grotius; or The Prototype of Paradise Lost — page 58: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

A TRAGEDY.~—ACT V. 4l ACT V. Satan. All things have happened to my wish. I strike My head against the effulgent stars of heaven, And boast myself a god. Do I not sway The aérial atmosphere, the liquid main, And all the solid earth, both round about Its broad circumference, and within its womb Of fire and smoke, and blackness of despair. My exile grows delectable. This feat Of valorous prowess thro’ all Hell shall ring My fame, and make the envy-jabbering fiends Right jealous of ambition, and no less The emulous rivals of my chivalry. ' Now, my revenge, take thy sweet fill, and drink Even to the dregs the cup of ecstasy, And so, intoxicate with others’ woes, Forget thy proper torture! Ah, proud man! My slave, my subject now, methinks I hear The Almighty’s curse, already on the wing, Muttering revenge. Away, and linger not. Quit your ripe garden of delight: begone, Ye vagrant vagabond exiles of my hate ! Rush shrieking from your Eden’s gates and learn The sweets of foreign travel. Yes, ye fools ! I give ye leave to wander; wander on For ever and forever. Make the most Of your free will, ye idiots. But where’er Ye bend your weary bleeding steps ye take My omnipresence with you, and my curse — Of death, if not damnation. I will vex Your wrought souls with my furies, and the lash Of scorpion-stinging rage, and passionate hate Shall goad ye to the dust from whence ye rose. No flight remains, no exit, no escape From my choice metaphysical donjon-keep— This blasted earth. And Time, all-soothing Time, With his benign philosophy, shall add : Fresh rapture to your torments of despair. Yes! hie ye forth,—invest yourselves at dnce With this new fee and territory, the large The desolate waste, and thunder-smitten scope Of your poised planet, which I’ll do my best To make as barren and untillable As the infernal sulphur; till your heart Envy the blest repose of the damn’d fiends Yow once so bravely scorned, and not in vain, For they can answer insults with good grace ; Or take them, and pay interest for their wrongs. Thus shall my vengeance ever live with you, G COMIC SOO KS.EO @