BELPHEGOR.
That is a battle, in which crowds of men meet together to kill others and be killed themselves. Probably many thousands will go down to us from this encounter.
RECAB.
And how can they be compelled to destroy each other so plentifully?
BELPHEGOR.
There is no compulsion: all these men might have remained at home, and preserved their lives.
RECAB.
Why have we taken this long flight to destroy the happiness of mankind? they seem so determined to be miserable, that I think our arts are not wanted.
BELPHEGOR.
When you know men better, you will find occasions to exercise your ingenuity upon them. There are many, indeed, who eagerly ruin themselves without our assistance; others wait for a hint from us; but there are some so obdurate, that all our skill is required to circumvent them. But we have reached England, and the great city now beneath us is London. We will soar round a little that you may have a view of it. The streets are full of our victims.