There's a black cloud descending from above,
Full of heaven's venom, bursting o'er thy head.
Osm. Malicious fiend, thou liest; for I am fenced
By millions of thy fellows, in my grove.
I bade thee, when I freed thee from the charm,
Run scouting through the wood, from tree to tree,
And look if all my devils were on duty:
Had'st thou performed thy charge, thou tardy sprite,
Thou would'st have known no danger threatened me.
Grim. When did a devil fail in diligence?