University of Virginia Library

Scene VIII.

DEVIL
O Race of Vipers, what should hinder me
From crushing ye to nothing? O vile wasps,
That flying round the honey'd vase dispute
Who first shall dare immersion, could I take ye
And dashing ye upon the earth could bruise
Each impotent passion out o'ye, 'twere well;
But if I left one spark of life in ye,
The slightest glimmerings of existence, straightly
Your teeming and prolific brains would hatch
Conceptions of new vice, and, by and by,
When the strong hand of chastisement relax'd,
Ye would run down the steep ascent again
Into the sink from whence ye were exalted,
And would return to the forbidden thing
With renovated zest. In after life
Were punishment the herald of reform
Th'infliction o't were good: but who shall fashion
Clay that is hard and untenacious?
Reform is rarer seen in after-life
Than a rose i' th'brows of winter. Hark! I hear ye
Head over ears in controversy and strife,
I must unto ye and at any rate
I'll thwart your present schemings—
Bluebeard and Hickathrift! but I'll kick up
The Devil of a Row, or more correctly
The Row of a Devil.
Belial, Abaddon, Astaroth, Asmodeus,
Turn up your smoky eyes, ingrained with soot,
And envy me the pranks which I shall play.

Said I, Asmodeus? 'faith, he was a craven and a
ninny and scar'd with the fume of fish-liver,

which I do much marvel, whether it were own'd
by Pike, Turbot, Salmon, or Sturgeon—or what
fish liver ever possessed such puissant and devil-driving
abilities. But, by Styx, they may broil
half the fry that swims, before my Devilship
would budge an inch.

[Exit into the Cottage