COREB.
Unbind me, and by hell I will not touch thee,
Till seven years from this hour be full expired.
FABELL.
Enough, come out.
COREB.
A vengeance take thy art!
Live and convert all piety to evil:
Never did man thus over-reach the Devil.
No time on earth like Phaetontique flames
Can have perpetual being. I'll return
To my infernall mansion; but be sure,
Thy seven years done, no trick shall make me tarry,
But, Coreb, thou to hell shalt Fabell carry.
[Exit.]
FABELL.
Then thus betwixt us two this variance ends,
Thou to thy fellow Fiends, I to my friends.
[Exit.]
ACT I.
SCENE I. The George Inn, Waltham.
[Enter Sir Arthur Clare, Dorcas, his Lady, Milliscent, his daughter, young Harry Clare; the men booted, the gentlewomen in cloaks and safeguards. Blague, the merry host of the George, comes in with them.]
HOST. Welcome, good knight, to the George at Waltham, my free-hold, my tenements, goods and chattels. Madam, here's a room is the very Homer and Iliad of a lodging, it hath none of the four elements in it; I built it out of the Center, and I drink ne'er the less sack. Welcome, my little waste of maiden-heads! What? I serve the good Duke of Norfolk.