Never can true reconcilement grow where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep...

Awake, arise or be for ever fall’n.

Pandemonium, the high capital / Of Satan and his peers.

≫Rækker man Fanden en lillefinger…≪ grinede Filip.
≫Så tager han hele armen,≪ svarede Lucifer og gav slip.
Han så på Filip med et hævet øjenbryn. ≫ Og rækker man ham en hånd…≪
≫Så tager han hele sjælen≪

From morn To moon he fell, from noon to dewy eve, A summer's day; and with the setting sun Dropt from the zenith like a falling star.

Black it stood as night, Fierce as ten furies, terrible as hell, And shook a dreadful dart; what seem'd his head The likeness of a kingly crown had on. Satan was now at hand.