One spirit in them ruled, and every eye Glared lightning, and shot forth pernicious fire Among the accursed, that withered all their strength, And of their wonted vigour left them drained, Exhausted, spiritless, afflicted, fallen. Yet half his strength he put not forth, but checked His thunder in mid-volley; for he meant Not to destroy, but root them out of Heaven. The overthrown he raised, and, as a herd Of goats or timorous flock together thronged, Drove them before him thunderstruck, pursued With terrors and with furies to the bounds And crystal wall of Heaven; which, opening wide, Rolled inward, and a spacious gap disclosed Into the wasteful deep. The monstrous sight Strook them with horror backward, but far worse Urged them behind; headlong themselves they threw Down from the verge of Heaven; eternal wrath Burned after them to the bottomless pit.