Faust. Speak, Fellow, what's the Matter?
Scar. O poor Scaramouche!
Faust. Speak, I conjure thee; or Acherontis Dii Demogorgon.——
Scar. O I beseech you Conjure no more, for I am frighted into a Diabetes already.
Faust. Frighted at what?
Scar. I have seen, Oh, oh——
Faust. What?
Scar. The Devil.
Faust. Art sure it was the Devil?
Scar. The Devil, or the Devil's Companion: He had a Head like a Bulls, with Horns on; and two Eyes that glow'd like the Balls of a dark Lantern: His Hair stood a Tiptoe, like your new-fashion'd Top-knots; with a Mouth as large as a King's Beef Eater: His Nails was as sharp as a Welshman's in Passion; and he look'd as frightful as a Sergeant to an Alsatian.