RACHEL Yes.
RICHARD Sir—the blame was mine.
RACHEL [Clinging to him.] O Richard!
DICKON Pardon, my friends. The fault rests upon no one here. The witch alone is to blame. Her black art inveigled this innocent maid into purchasing the glass; her black art bewitched this room and all that it contained—even to these innocent virginals, on which I played.
MINISTER DODGE Verily, this would seem to account—but the image; the damnable image in the glass?
DICKON A familiar devil of hers—a sly imp, it seems, who wears to mortal eyes the shape of a scarecrow. ’Twas he, by means of whom she bedevilled this glass, by making it his habitat. When, therefore, she learned that honour and happiness were yours, Justice Merton, in the prospect of Lord Ravensbane as your nephew-in-law, she commanded this devil to reveal himself in the glass as my lord’s own image, that thus she might wreck your family felicity.
MINISTER DODGE Infamous!
DICKON Indeed, sir, it was this very devil whom but now she stole here to consult withal, when she encountered me, attendant here upon my poor prostrate lord, and—held by the wrath in my eye—confessed it all.
SIR CHARLES Thunder and brimstone! Where is this accursed hag?
DICKON Alas—gone, gone! If you had but stopped her.