TOMLINSON
129
The Devil he blew an outward breath, for his heart was free from care:
‘Ye have scarce the soul of a louse,’ he said, ‘but the roots of sin are there,
‘And for that sin should ye come in were I the lord alone.
‘But sinful pride has rule inside—and mightier than my own.
‘Honour and Wit, fore-damned they sit, to each his priest and whore:
‘Nay, scarce I dare myself go there, and you they’d torture sore.
‘Ye are neither spirit nor spirk,’ he said; ‘ye are neither book nor brute—
‘Go, get ye back to the flesh again for the sake of Man’s repute.
‘I’m all o’er-sib to Adam’s breed that I should mock your pain,
‘But look that ye win to worthier sin ere ye come back again.
‘Get hence, the hearse is at your door—the grim black stallions wait—
‘They bear your clay to place to-day. Speed, lest ye come too late!
‘Ye have scarce the soul of a louse,’ he said, ‘but the roots of sin are there,
‘And for that sin should ye come in were I the lord alone.
‘But sinful pride has rule inside—and mightier than my own.
‘Honour and Wit, fore-damned they sit, to each his priest and whore:
‘Nay, scarce I dare myself go there, and you they’d torture sore.
‘Ye are neither spirit nor spirk,’ he said; ‘ye are neither book nor brute—
‘Go, get ye back to the flesh again for the sake of Man’s repute.
‘I’m all o’er-sib to Adam’s breed that I should mock your pain,
‘But look that ye win to worthier sin ere ye come back again.
‘Get hence, the hearse is at your door—the grim black stallions wait—
‘They bear your clay to place to-day. Speed, lest ye come too late!
