Har. Ha! a malignant.—Smite him!
Sold. Lo! he shall die.
Host. Hold! hold! 'tis an innocent youth. He did but draw his weapon to defy the evil one. He is strong in prayer. [To William aside.] Speak quickly, an thou lovest thyself—something from Tobit, or the Psalmody.
Har. Thou hearest—Sin-Despise! touch not the youth. Lo, I myself have wrestled with the powers of darkness. [To William.] In what shape cometh he?
Will. With horns, an't please you, [Aside.] very like Master Newborn there.
Har. [To himself.] With me 'tis different. In the curtain'd night,
A Form comes shrieking on me,
With such an edg'd and preternatural cry
'T would stir the blood of clustering bats from sleep,
Tear their hook'd wings from out the mildew'd eaves,
And drive them circling forth—
I tell ye that I fight with him until
The sweat like blood puts out my burning eyes.
Call you this dreaming?
Will. [Aside to the Host.] Dost think the gentleman eats suppers?
Ire. A plague upon his damn'd repentant fancies!
Har. [Still to himself.] 'Twas on the heath,
As he did gripe and hold it from his breast,
He cut my blade with fifty pallid fingers,
On his knees, crying out
He had at home an old and doating father;
And yet I slew him!
There was a ribbon round his neck
That caught in the hilt of my sword.
A stripling, and so long a dying? Why
'Tis most unnatural!
Host. [Aside to William.] I would not have his conscience to be vintner to the Parliament.