As not of power at once; nor odds appeared

In might or swift prevention: But the sword

Of Michael from the armoury of God

Was given him tempered so, that neither keen

Nor solid might resist that edge: it met

The sword of Satan, with steep force to smite

Descending, and in half cut sheer; nor staid,

But with swift wheel reverse, deep entering, shared

All his right side: Then Satan first knew pain,

And writhed him to and fro convolved; so sore

The griding sword with discontinuous wound

Passed through him: But the ethereal substance closed,

Not long divisible; and from the gash

A stream of necturous humour issuing flowed

Sanguine, such as celestial Spirits may bleed,

And all his armour stained, ere while so bright.

Forthwith on all sides to his aid was run

By Angels many and strong, who interposed

Defence, while others bore him on their shields

Back to his chariot, where it stood retired

From off the files of war: There they him laid

Gnashing for anguish, and despite, and shame,

To find himself not matchless, and his pride

Humbled by such rebuke, so far beneath

His confidence to equal God in power.

Yet soon he healed; for Spirits that live throughout

Vital in every part, not as frail man

In entrails, heart of head, liver or reins,

Cannot but by annihilating die;

Nor in their liquid texture mortal wound

Receive, no more than can the fluid air:

All heart they live, all head, all eye, all ear,

All intellect, all sense; and, as they please,

They limb themselves, and colour, shape, or size

Assume, as likes them best, condense or rare.

Meanwhile in other parts like deeds deserved

Memorial, where the might of Gabriel fought,

And with fierce ensigns pierced the deep array

Of Moloch, furious king; who him defied,

And at his chariot-wheels to drag him bound

Threatened, nor from the Holy One of Heaven

Refrained his tongue blasphemous; but anon

Down cloven to the waist, with shattered arms

And uncouth pain fled bellowing. On each wing

Uriel, and Raphael, his vaunting foe,

Though huge, and in a rock of diamond armed,

Vanquished Adramelech, and Asmadai,

Two potent Thrones, that to be less than Gods

Disdained, but meaner thoughts learned in their flight,

Mangled with ghastly wounds through plate and mail.

Nor stood unmindful Abdiel to annoy

The atheist crew, but with redoubled blow

Ariel, and Arioch, and the violence

Of Ramiel scorched and blasted, overthrew.

I might relate of thousands, and their names

Eternize here on earth; but those elect

Angels, contented with their fame in Heaven,

Seek not the praise of men: The other sort,

In might though wonderous and in acts of war,

Nor of renown less eager, yet by doom

Cancelled from Heaven and sacred memory,

Nameless in dark oblivion let them dwell.

For strength from truth divided, and from just,

Illaudable, nought merits but dispraise

And ignominy; yet to glory aspires

Vain-glorious, and through infamy seeks fame: