Yet chains in Hell, not realms, expect: Meanwhile

From me returned, as erst thou saidst, from flight,

This greeting on thy impious crest receive.’

So saying, a noble stroke he lifted high,

Which hung not, but so swift with tempest fell

On the proud crest of Satan, that no sight,

Nor motion of swift thought, less could his shield,

Such ruin intercept: Ten paces huge

He back recoiled; the tenth on bended knee

His massy spear upstaid; as if on earth

Winds under ground, or waters forcing way,

Sidelong had pushed a mountain from his seat,

Half sunk with all his pines. Amazement seized

The rebel Thrones, but greater rage, to see

Thus foiled their mightiest; ours joy filled, and shout,

Presage of victory, and fierce desire

Of battle: Whereat Michael bid sound

The Arch-Angel trumpet; through the vast of Heaven

It sounded, and the faithful armies rung

Hosanna to the Highest: Nor stood at gaze

The adverse legions, nor less hideous joined

The horrid shock. Now storming fury rose,

And clamour such as heard in Heaven till now

Was never; arms on armour clashing brayed

Horrible discord, and the madding wheels

Of brazen chariots raged; dire was the noise

Of conflict; over head the dismal hiss

Of fiery darts in flaming vollies flew,

And flying vaulted either host with fire.

So under fiery cope together rushed

Both battles main, with ruinous assault

And inextinguishable rage. All Heaven

Resounded; and had Earth been then, all Earth

Had to her center shook. What wonder? when

Millions of fierce encountering Angels fought

On either side, the least of whom could wield

These elements, and arm him with the force

Of all their regions: How much more of power

Army against army numberless to raise

Dreadful combustion warring, and disturb,

Though not destroy, their happy native seat;

Had not the Eternal King Omnipotent,

From his strong hold of Heaven, high over-ruled

And limited their might; though numbered such

As each divided legion might have seemed

A numerous host; in strength each armed hand

A legion; led in fight, yet leader seemed

Each warrior single as in chief, expert

When to advance, or stand, or turn the sway

Of battle, open when, and when to close

The ridges of grim war: No thought of flight,

None of retreat, no unbecoming deed

That argued fear; each on himself relied,

As only in his arm the moment lay

Of victory: Deeds of eternal fame

Were done, but infinite; for wide was spread

That war and various; sometimes on firm ground

A standing fight, then, soaring on main wing,

Tormented all the air; all air seemed then

Conflicting fire. Long time in even scale

The battle hung; till Satan, who that day

Prodigious power had shown, and met in arms

No equal, ranging through the dire attack

Of fighting Seraphim confused, at length

Saw where the sword of Michael smote, and felled

Squadrons at once; with huge two-handed sway

Brandished aloft, the horrid edge came down