I should be much for open Warr, O Peers, As not behind in hate; if what was urg'd Main reason to perswade immediate Warr, Did not disswade me most, and seem to cast Ominous conjecture on the whole success: When he who most excels in fact of Arms, In what he counsels and in what excels Mistrustful, grounds his courage on despair And utter dissolution, as the scope Of all his aim, after some dire revenge.

First, what Revenge?
the Towrs of Heav'n are fill'd With Armed watch, that render all access Impregnable; oft on the bordering Deep Encamp thir Legions, or with obscure wing Scout farr and wide into the Realm of night, Scorning surprize.

Or could we break our way By force, and at our heels all Hell should rise With blackest Insurrection, to confound Heav'ns purest Light, yet our great Enemie All incorruptible would on his Throne Sit unpolluted, and th' Ethereal mould Incapable of stain would soon expel Her mischief, and purge off the baser fire Victorious.

Thus repuls'd, our final hope Is flat despair: we must exasperate Th' Almighty Victor to spend all his rage, And that must end us, that must be our cure, To be no more; sad cure; for who would loose, Though full of pain, this intellectual being, Those thoughts that wander through Eternity, To perish rather, swallowd up and lost In the wide womb of uncreated night, Devoid of sense and motion?
and who knows, Let this be good, whether our angry Foe Can give it, or will ever?
how he can Is doubtful; that he never will is sure.

Will he, so wise, let loose at once his ire, Belike through impotence, or unaware, To give his Enemies thir wish, and end Them in his anger, whom his anger saves To punish endless?
wherefore cease we then?
Say they who counsel Warr, we are decreed, Reserv'd and destin'd to Eternal woe; Whatever doing, what can we suffer more, What can we suffer worse?
is this then worst, Thus sitting, thus consulting, thus in Arms?
What when we fled amain, pursu'd and strook With Heav'ns afflicting Thunder, and besought The Deep to shelter us?
this Hell then seem'd A refuge from those wounds: or when we lay Chain'd on the burning Lake?
that sure was worse.