So saying, with delight he snuffed the smell Of mortal change on Earth. As when a flock Of ravenous fowl, though many a league remote, Against the day of battle, to a field, Where armies lie encamped, come flying, lured With scent of living carcases designed For death the following day in bloody fight: So scented the grim Feature, and upturned His nostril wide into the murky air, Sagacious of his quarry from so far. Then both, from out Hell-gates, into the waste Wide anarchy of Chaos damp and dark Flew diverse, and with power (their power was great) Hovering upon the waters, what they met Solid or slimy, as in raging sea Tossed up and down, together crowded drove, From each side shoaling, towards the mouth of Hell; As when two polar winds, blowing adverse Upon the Cronian sea, together drive Mountains of ice, that stop the imagined way Beyond Petsora eastward, to the rich Cathaian coast. The aggregated soil Death with his mace petrific, cold and dry, As with a trident smote, and fixed as firm