University of Virginia Library

SCENE V.

A Wine Shop.—Nicodemus and Two Familiars.
NICODEMUS.
Not a drop more, gentlemen, if you love me!

FIRST FAMILIAR.

Nonsense, man! We have not had as much as
would satisfy the thirst of a chicken. Another
stoup here! And now tell us a little more about
your master.

NICODEMUS.
Aha, sirs! He's an odd one, is Señor Firmilian.

FIRST FAMILIAR.
A devil among the wenches, I suppose?

NICODEMUS.

Mum for that, sir! I hope I am not the man
to betray confidence. What I see, I behold; and
what I behold I can keep to myself; and there's
enough on't. What have you black-coated gentry
to do with the daughters of Eve?

FIRST FAMILIAR.

Nay, no offence meant, Master Nicodemus—you are
sharper than Pedrillo's razor! What—young blood
will have its way! But you are happy in serving, as
I hear, the most promising student in Badajoz.

NICODEMUS.

Serving, sir? Marry come up! I'd have you
know that I am his secretary.

SECOND FAMILIAR.

Aha! Your health, Master Secretary! I fear
me you have heavy labour.

NICODEMUS.

Don't speak of it! If you knew what I have to
do—the books I have to translate from the Coptic,
Latin, Welsh, and other ancient languages—you'd
pity me. I sometimes wish I had never been familiar
with foreign tongues. Learning, my masters,
is no inheritance. And then, when you come to
deal with the Black Art—

SECOND FAMILIAR.
Enlighten us, Master Secretary—what is that?

NICODEMUS.

The Black Art? Here is your very good health!
—I wish you could see my master's room, after he
has been trying to call up the devil! Lord, sir!
there's no end of skulls, and chalk marks on the
floor, and stench of sulphur, and what not—but

I don't believe that, with all his pains, he ever
brought the devil up.

SECOND FAMILIAR.
Take another cup.—But he tries it sometimes?

NICODEMUS.

Punctually upon Wednesdays—about midnight,
when the whole household have gone to sleep. But
he's not up to the trick: he never could raise anything
larger than a hedge-hog.

FIRST FAMILIAR.
But he has done that, has he?

NICODEMUS.

Of course! Any one can raise a hedge-hog. But
I'm not going to sit here all night seeing you drinking.
I must go home to translate Plotinus, who was

a respectable father of the Latin Church. Take my
advice and go home too—you are both rather drunk.
Where's my beaver? Don't attempt to offer me two,
in case I put the phantom one on my head. I say—
if there is a drop remaining in the bottle, you might
offer it by way of courtesy. Thanks, and take care
of yourselves.

[Exit.
FIRST FAMILIAR.
What say you to this story? A clearer proof
Of arrant sorcery was never given
Unto the Holy office.

SECOND FAMILIAR.
It is complete.
He raises hedge-hogs! That's enough for me.

[Exeunt.