DEMON. Have done with these buffooneries: leave me, go.
And 'mid these intricate rocks whose paths you know,
Assist your master, who will let you see
(If you would witness such a prodigy)
The end of all his woe.
I wish to be alone.
CLARIN. And I not so.
I now perceive
Why to use magic I have not your leave,
The fault was mine, neglecting to attest
My bond, and sign it with the blood of my breast.--
[He takes out a soiled pocket-handkerchief.
Upon this linen handkerchief
(None cleaner he can have who cries for grief)
I'll sign it now, the method I propose
Is but to give myself a box on the nose,
For there is little harm
Whether the blood is drawn from nose or arm.
[He writes with his finger on the handkerchief, after having drawn some blood.
I, the great Clarin, say, if I can level
Pert Livia's cruel pride, whom I give to the devil . . . .
DEMON. Leave me, I say again,
Go seek your master and with him remain.
CLARIN. Yes, I will do so, don't get angry though.
The reason you reject my bond I know:
'Tis this, because you see,
Do what I will that you are sure of me.
* * * * *
SCENE IV.
The Demon.
DEMON. Abyss of hell prepare!
Thyself the region of thine own despair.--
From out each dungeon's dark recess
Let loose the spirits of voluptuousness,
To rain and o'erthrow
Justina's virgin fabric pure as snow.
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