The works of John Dryden, now first collected in eighteen volumes. Volume 03Dryden, John
General
The works of John Dryden, now first collected in eighteen volumes. Volume 03
Dryden, John
English drama -- 17th century
_Bel._ I have been making there my magical operations, to know the event
of your daughters' flight; and, to perform it rightly, have been forced
to call up spirits of several orders: And there they are humming like a
swarm of bees, some stalking about upon the ground, some flying, and
some sticking upon the walls like rear-mice.
_Mask._ The devil's in him, he's got off again.
_Alon._ Now, sir, I shall try the truth of your friendship to me. To
confess the secret of my soul to you, I have all my life been curious to
see a devil; and to that purpose have conned Agrippa through and
through, and made experiment of all his rules, _Pari die et incremento
Lunæ_, and yet could never compass the sight of one of these
_dæmoniums_: If you will ever oblige me, let it be on this occasion.
_Mask._ There's another storm arising.
_Bel._ You shall pardon me, sir; I'll not expose you to that peril for
the world, without due preparations of ceremony.
_Alon._ For that, sir, I always carry a talisman about me, that will
secure me: And therefore I will venture in, a God's name, and defy them
all at once.
[_Going in._
_Mask._ How the pox will he get off from this?
_Bel._ Well, sir, since you are so resolved, send off your servant, that
there may be no noise made on't, and we'll take our venture.
_Alon._ Pedro, leave your light, and help the fellows to search the
garden.
[_Exit Servant._
_Mask._ What does my incomprehensible master mean?
_Bel._ Now, I must tell you, sir, you will see that, which will very
much astonish you, if my art fail me not. [_Goes to the door_.] You
spirits and intelligences, that are within there, stand close, and
silent, at your peril, and fear nothing, but appear in your own shapes,
boldly.--Maskall, open the door.
[MASKALL _goes to one side of the scene, which draws, and discovers_
THEO. JAC. AUR. BEAT. CAM. LOP. WILD., _standing all without motion
in a rank_.
Now, sir, what think you?
_Alon._ They are here, they are here: We need search no farther. Ah you
ungracious baggages!
[_Going toward them._
_Bel._ Stay, or you'll be torn in pieces: These are the very shapes I
conjured up, and truly represent to you in what company your niece and
daughters are, this very moment.
_Alon._ Why, are they not they? I durst have sworn that some of them had
been my own flesh and blood.--Look; one of them is just like that rogue,
your comrade.
[WILD. _shakes his head, and frowns at him._
_Bel._ Do you see how you have provoked that English devil? Take heed of
him; if he gets you once into his clutches--
[WILD. _embracing_ JAC.
_Alon._ He seems to have got possession of the spirit of my Jacintha, by
his hugging her.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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