The undaunted Fiend what this might be admired, Admired, not feared⁠—God and his Son except, Created thing naught valued he nor shunned⁠— And with disdainful look thus first began:

“Whence and what art thou, execrable Shape, That dar’st, though grim and terrible, advance Thy miscreated front athwart my way⁠— To yonder gates? Through them I mean to pass, That be assured, without leave asked of thee. Retire, or taste thy folly, and learn by proof, Hell-born, not to contend with Spirits of Heaven.”