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Rh  With Atlantean houlders fit to bear The weight of mightiet Monarchies; his look Drew audience and attention till as Night Or Summers Noon-tide air, while thus he pake. 310 Thrones and imperial Powers, off-pring of heav’n, Ethereal Vertues; or thee Titles now Mut we renounce, and changing tile be call’d Princes of Hell? for o the popular vote Inclines, here to continue, and build up here A growing Empire; doubtles; while we dream, And know not that the King of Heav’n hath doom’d This place our dungeon, not our afe retreat Beyond his Potent arm, to live exempt From Heav’ns high jurisdiction, in new League 320 Banded againt his Throne, but to remaine In trictest bondage, though thus far remov’d Under th’ inevitable curb, reerv’d His captive multitude: For he, be ure, In highth or depth, till firt and lat will Reign Sole King, and of his Kingdom looe no part By our revolt, but over Hell extend His Empire, and with Iron Scepter rule Us here, as with his Golden thoe in Heav’n. What it we then projecting Peace and Warr? 330 Warr hath determin’d us, and foild with los Irreparable; tearms of peace yet none Vouchaf’t or ought; for what peace will be giv’n To us enlav’d, but cutody evere, And tripes, and arbitrary punihment Inflicted? and what peace can we return, But to our power hotility and hate, Untam’d reluctance, and revenge though low,