The desert soil of Hell teemed with riches, they could find peaceful
pursuits, and it was his advice to continue there in quiet, untroubled by
any thoughts of revenge.
Amid the murmur of applause that followed Mammon's speech, Beelzebub, than
whom none towered higher save Satan, arose, his face grave, his attitude
majestic. "Would you, Thrones and Imperial Powers," he cried, "think to
build up a kingdom here, secure from the arm of Heaven? Have you so soon
forgotten that this is not a kingdom ceded to you by the Most High, but a
dungeon in which he has shut you for your everlasting punishment? Never
will he forget that you are his prisoners; your lot will not be peace, but
custody and stripes. What return can we make, then, but to think out some
slow but sure and sweet revenge? It is not necessary to attempt to scale
the walls of Heaven. Other things remain. There is this new world, his
plaything. It may lie exposed, and we can at least make the attempt to
seize it and lay it waste, and thus vex him." As he saw their eyes
sparkle, he continued: "We may in this attempt come near to the steps of
our old abode and breathe again its delicious airs instead of these
hellish flames. But first we must find some one, strong, wary, and
watchful, to send in search of it."
Satan strode forth, his courage and his consciousness of it making his
face shine with transcendent glory.
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