Long hee admiring stood, till Sin, his faire Inchanting Daughter, thus the silence broke.

O Parent, these are thy magnific deeds, Thy Trophies, which thou view'st as not thine own, Thou art thir Author and prime Architect: For I no sooner in my Heart divin'd, My Heart, which by a secret harmonie Still moves with thine, joyn'd in connexion sweet, That thou on Earth hadst prosper'd, which thy looks Now also evidence, but straight I felt Though distant from thee Worlds between, yet felt That I must after thee with this thy Son; Such fatal consequence unites us three: Hell could no longer hold us in her bounds, Nor this unvoyageable Gulf obscure Detain from following thy illustrious track.

Thou hast atchiev'd our libertie, confin'd Within Hell Gates till now, thou us impow'rd To fortifie thus farr, and overlay With this portentous Bridge the dark Abyss.

Thine now is all this World, thy vertue hath won What thy hands builded not, thy Wisdom gain'd With odds what Warr hath lost, and fully aveng'd Our foile in Heav'n; here thou shalt Monarch reign, There didst not; there let him still Victor sway, As Battel hath adjudg'd, from this new World Retiring, by his own doom alienated, And henceforth Monarchie with thee divide Of all things, parted by th' Empyreal bounds, His Quadrature, from thy Orbicular World, Or trie thee now more dang'rous to his Throne.

Whom thus the Prince of Darkness answerd glad.