XI
"Your crown and your sceptre I like full well,
They tempt a poor maiden's pride, Sir;
But your lands and possessions—excuse if I'm rude—
Are too far in a Northerly latitude
For me to become your Bride, Sir.
XII
"In that aguish clime I should catch my death,
Being but a raw new comer"—
Quoth he, "We have plenty of fuel stout;
And the fires, which I kindle, never go out
By winter, nor yet by summer.
XIII
"I am Prince of Hell, and Lord Paramount
Over Monarchs there abiding.
My Groom of the Stables is Nimrod old;
And Nebuchadnazor my stirrups must hold,
When I go out a riding.
XIV
"To spare your blushes, and maiden fears,
I resorted to these inventions—
But, Imposture, begone; and avaunt, Disguise!"
And the Devil began to swell and rise
To his own diabolic dimensions.
XV
Twin horns from his forehead shot up to the moon,
Like a branching stag in Arden;
Dusk wings through his shoulders with eagle's strength
Push'd out; and his train lay floundering in length
An acre beyond the garden.—