All, save I, were at rest or in enjoyment; I, like the arch-fiend, bore a hell within me, and finding myself unsympathized with, wished to tear up the trees, spread havoc and destruction around me, and then to have sat down and enjoyed the ruin.
1844 — George Stephens. Self-glorification. Rebecca and her daughters.
You know him not: arch-fiend? — We guess what essence Have angels by him
1866 — Charles Desmarais Gardette. The Fire-fiend, and Other Poems
I am Arch-Fiend of the Fire! and each blazing roof's my pyre