[Exit Vecchio.
John. This Conjurer is a right good fellow too,
A Lad of mettle; two such Devils more
Would make me a Conjurer; what wine is it?
Fred. Hollock.
John. The Devil's in it then; look how it dances.
Well, if I be—
Pet. We are all before ye,
That's your best comfort, Sir.
John. By th' Mass, brave Wine;
Nay, and the Devils live in this Hell, I dare venture
Within these two months yet to be delivered
Of a large Legion of 'em.
Enter Vecchio.
Du. Here he comes,
Silence of all sides, Gentlemen.
Vec. Good your Grace,
Observe a stricter temper, and you too, Gallants,
You'll be deluded all else. This merry Devil
That next appears, for such a one you'll find it,
Must be call'd up by a strange incantation,
A Song, and I must sing it: 'pray bear with me,
And pardon my rude Pipe; for yet, ere parting
Twenty to one I please ye.