Hild. (To Wiz.) Stand up! (The wizard remains sitting, gazes at Hild., then at Monks, then returns to his calculations.)
Hild. Wilt thou stand up? (To Monks) Make him!
Ab. and Monks. Nay, nay, he be making devils wheels at us now, even now we be dead men.
(The old man finishes his calculation, then rises slowly and approaches Hild.) Hast thou sent for me?
Hild. Who art thou?
Wiz. I am the centre, Macro, acro, Magister, ha! ha! ha!
Hild. (To Ab.) What hath he done?
Ab. Oh, Oh, Most Holy, everything.
Hild. Name his offence.
Ab. He hath lamed Brother Benedict, rheumed Brother Isaac, physiced Brother Petrice, hath slain Brothers Wildert, Gebert an’ Andrice, hath tied us all up by the heels to the devil, an’ hath bewitched the whole convent.