Paradise Lost

Fudge... I'm supposed to be writing an essay on irony in Dickens and Browning, yet here I am... But hey, re-reading my old stuff whilst listening to distant thunder and tip tap of the rain on my window is way more appealing ;)

This, ladies and gentlemen, is my masterpiece haha. Wrote it for a 11th grade assignment, an English oral exam actually. Little description of the context: in Book II of Paradise Lost, by John Milton, the demons and followers of Satan sit down in Pandemonium, debating on how to take revenge on God. I invented my own demon god, and created his very own speech on how to defeat Heaven. Boo yeah.

Ok so it ain't iambic pentameter, but I still got kick-ass rhymes.

Paraphrasing of what my dear Callidio is saying:

The fallen angels should wait a very long time for the inhabitants of Heaven to forget their existence. During these years, they will create a new army, preparing for a surprise attack against Heaven.

When the attack date approaches, the bravest rebel angel will carry a flask containing water from the river of Hell, Lethe. He will penetrate Heaven secretly, tiping the contents of this flask into any one of God’s drinks, and make sure it has been drunk completely. If the plan works, than God will lose all memories of his past, forgetting his identity and his strength, as these are the effects of Lethe’s waters.

The rebel angels, who have been waiting for the signal (crystal flask falling), will attack Heaven: it will be an easy victory since Heaven's angels are left with a confused and powerless leader.

Callidio’s Speech: (l. 298 of Book 2)

Callidio, after Mammon’s sage speech, was next to rise

And as he stood, silence was the fruit of all’s surprise.

Small as he was, this angel was never noticed,

In the shadows of his superiors, he practiced,

As Heaven’s angels knew his head was an endless storm,

Where incredible ideas and plans were bound to form.

And as he started to share his scheme, complex and grim

Gleaming eyes and open ears were all turned to him:

“My brothers, I partly agree with Mammon’s thought,

Nevertheless, much more action needs to be brought.

We cannot live eternally in this pain and gloom,

We will become the lifeless creatures of this doom!

I propose that we overcome our fear of Him,

The terror and fright in which we endlessly swim.

In this place of darkness runs a stream called Lethe,

Its black water flowing to surface from underneath,

One draught of its water can erase one’s memories,

He cannot be awaken by any dreams or stories.

A small flask containing this water shall be kept,

And you will later on understand this concept.

We will wait, my brothers, together in this place,

And many years or centuries we are to face,

In this dark and indefinable place called Hell.

We are to wait until they are unable to tell,

With whom they led a battle many years ago,

And where their enemies were thrown, deep down below,

Beneath Chaos, beneath all light and living beings,

In a boundless prison forbidding all feelings.

They will fully forget our names and faces,

Our existence will be erased from all places,

And we will be free to attack them by surprise,

Make these unbearable feelings, in their chest, rise.

This battle is to be, once and for all, the last,

We have to be victorious in more than one blast,

We have to create an invincible army,

One that will make these angels forever sorry,

Sorry to have thrown us in this black endless pit!

For this to work, in two equal teams we shall split:

One will find a way out of our current prison,

That will lead to His own kingdom, Him in person,

While the other creates new weapons and tactics,

Preparing strong new soldiers, learning the basics,

As we are to win this battle in just one stroke,

So your greatest courage and strength I now invoke.

When the time has finally come for us to attack,

When, in their minds, our faces are nothing but black,

The bravest of angels will be sent to Heaven,

He will penetrate the place on the time given.

He has to be unnoticed by any angel,

Frequently hiding, till he reaches His temple,

And, taking the flask, into His drink it shall pour.

Now this, my brothers, will be the start of our war.

As the wicked fluid will slowly touch His lips,

Our enemy will forget after a few sips,

Every person that ever entered his mind,

Every great power he has, leaving him blind.

If victorious, the angel will cast the signal,

Letting the flask drop until shatters the crystal,

For all the revengeful rebel soldiers of Hell,

To come out of the prison in which they had fell.

They will all rise at once, like one cloud of sharp spears,

They will leave no time for Heaven to shed any tears.

And, destroying all angel who lies in our path,

We shall take our revenge by pouring this blood bath!

With a clueless leader, fully confused and weak,

The angels of Heaven will have no words to speak,

And no fight to lead, without orders or training,

Defeat, in their mouths, is the last word remaining.

This is, my brothers, the plan I suggest to you,

May my leaders honor me by thinking it through.

Well if you made it to the end, Bravo ;)

Kick-ass speech then? Well.. you tell me!