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Met with your vanquisht Troops, and turn'd your Arms

To that necessity of fight, which, thro dispair

Of any hope to stand but by his charms,

Had been defeated in a bloody conquest?

OCTA.

'Twas magick, hellbred magick did it, sir,

And that's a course, my Lord, which we esteem

In all our Saxon Wars until the last

And lowest ebbe of servile treachery.

AUREL.

Sure, you are deceiv', it was the hand of heaven

That in his vertue gave us victory.

Is there a power in man that can strike fear

Thorough a general camp, or create spirits

In recreant bosoms above present sense?

OSTOR.

To blind the sense there may, with apparition

Of well arm'd troops within themselves are air,

Form'd into humane shapes, and such that day

Were by that Sorceror rais'd to cross our fortunes.

AUREL.

There is a law tells us that words want force

To make deeds void; examples must be shown

By instances alike, e're I believe it.

OSTOR.

'Tis easily perform'd believe me, sir:

Propose your own desires, and give but way

To what our Magick here shall straight perform,

And then let his or our deserts be censur'd.

AUREL.

We could not wish a greater happiness

Then what this satisfaction brings with it.

Let him proceed, fair brother.

OSTOR.

He shall, sir.

Com, learned Proximus, this task be thine:

Let thy great charms confound the opinion

This Christian by his spells hath falsly won.

PROX.

Great King, propound your wishes, then:

What persons, of what State, what numbers, or how arm'd,

Please your own thoughts; they shall appear before you.

AUREL.

Strange art! What thinkst thou, reverent Hermit?

HER.

Let him go on, sir.

AUREL.

Wilt thou behold his cunning?

HER.

Right gladly, sir; it will be my joy to tell,

That I was here to haugh at him and hell.

AUREL.

I like thy confidence.

ARTES.

His sawcy impudence! Proceed to th'trial.

PROX.

Speak your desires, my Lord, and be it place't

In any angle underneath the Moon,

The center of the Earth, the Sea, the Air,

The region of the fire, nay, hell it self,

And I'le present it.

AUREL.

Wee'l have no sight so fearful, onely this:

If all thy art can reach it, show me here

The two great Champions of the Trojan War,

Achilles and brave Hector, our great Ancestor,

Both in their warlike habits, Armor, Shields,

And Weapons then in use for fight.

PROX.

'Tis done, my Lord, command a halt and silence,

As each man willl respect his life or danger.

Armel, Plesgeth!

Enter SPIRITS.

SPIRITS.

Quid vis?

PROX.

Attend me.

AUREL.

The Apparition comes; on our displeasure,

Let all keep place and silence.

Within Drums Beat Marches.

Enter PROXIMUS, Bringing In HECTOR, Attir'd And Arm'd After The

Trojan Manner, With Target, Sword, And Battel-ax, A Trumpet Before Him,

And A SPIRIT In Flame Colours With A Torch; At The Other Door ACHILLES

With His Spear And Falchon, A Trumpet, And A SPIRIT In Black Before Him;

rumpets Sound Alarm, And They Manage Their Weapons To Begin The Fight:

And After Some Charges, The HERMIT Steps Between Them At Which Seeming

Amaz'd The SPIRITS Tremble. Thunder Within.

PROX.

What means this stay, bright Armel, Plesgeth?

Why fear you and fall back?

Renew the Alarms, and enforce the Combat,

Or hell or darkness circles you for ever.

ARM.

We dare not.

PROX.

Ha!

PLESGETH.

Our charms are all dissolv'd: Armel, away!

'Tis worse then heell to us, whilest here we stay.

Exit All.

HER.

What! at a Non-plus, sir? command them back, for shame.

PROX.

What poer o're-aws my Spells? Return, you Hell-hounds!

Armel, Plesgeth, double damnation seize you!

By all the Infernal powers, the prince of devils

Is in this Hermits habit: what else could force

My Spirits quake or tremble thus?

HER.

Weak argument to hide your want of skill:

Does the devil fear the devil, or war with hell?

They have not been acquainted long, it seems.

Know, mis-believing Pagan, even that Power,

That overthrew your Forces, still lets you see,

He onely can controul both hell and