12. Sattan. Honnoure! in þe deuel way, for what dede?
All erthely men to me are thrall;
Þe lady þat calles hym lorde in leede 135
Hadde neuer ȝitt herberowe, house, ne halle.
i Diab. Harke, Belsabub! I haue grete drede,
For hydously I herde hym calle.
Belliall. We! spere oure ȝates, all ill mot þou spede!
And sette furthe watches on þe wall. 140
And if he calle or crie