The dead man plied his discourse with so much gravity and earnestness, that Lucifer began to believe what he said. But because all truths are not to be spoken, especially among the devils, where hardly any are admitted; and for fear of mischief, if the doctors should come to hear what had been said, Lucifer presently ordered the fellow to be gagged, or put in security for his good behaviour. His mouth was no sooner stopped but another was opened; and one of the damned came running cross the company, and so up and down, back and forward (like a cur that had lost his master) bawling as if he had been out of his wits, and crying out, “Oh! where am I? Where am I? I am abused, I am choused; what’s the meaning of all this? Here are damning devils, tempting devils, and tormenting devils, but the devil a devil can I find of the devils that brought me hither; they have gotten away my devils; where are they? Give me my devils again.” It might well make the company stare, to see a fellow hunting for devils in hell, where they swarm in legions. But as he was in this hurry, a gouvernante caught him by the arm, and gave him a half turn and stopped him. “Old lucky-bird,” says she, “if thou wantest devils here, where dost expect to find them?” He knew her as soon as he saw her. And “Art thou here old Beelzebub in a petticoat?” said he, “the very picture of Satan, the coupler of male and female, the buckle and thong of lechery, the multiplier of sin and the guide of sinners, the seasoner of rotten mutton, the interpretress betwixt whores and knaves, the preface to the remedy of love, and the prologue to the critical minute. Speak, and without more ado, tell me, where are the devils and their dams that brought me hither? These are none of them. No, no; I am not such an awfe as to be trepanned and spirited away by devils with tails, horns, bristles, wings, that smell as if they had been smoked in a chimney-corner. The devils that I look for are worse than these. Where are the mothers that play the bawds to their own daughters? and the aunts that do as much for their nieces, and make them caper and sparkle like wild-fire? The black-eyed girls that carry fire in their eyes, and strike as sure as a lance from the rest of a cavalier? Where are the flatterers that speak nothing but pleasing things? The make-bates and incendiaries, that are the very canker of human society? Where are the story-mongers? The masters of the faculty of lying? that report more than they hear, affirm more than they know, and swear more than they believe. Those slanderous backbiters, that like vultures prey only upon carrion? Where are the hypocrites that turn devotion into interest, and make a revenue of a commandment? That pretend ecstasy when they are drunk, and utter the fumes and dreams of their luxury and tipple for revelations? That make chapels of their parlours, preachments of their ordinary entertainments, and everything they do is a miracle. They can