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DEVIL (turning to JACQUELINE, looking down upon her with distaste). Why, what is't ye sing of?
JACQ. Love, master.
DEVIL. Love!
JACQ. Yea, master.
DEVIL. Of what degree?
JACQ. Pure love, sir, faithful love.
DEVIL. Who has learned ye the song?
JACQ. None.
DEVIL. Whence comes it?
JACQ. Methinks, from my heart.
DEVIL. Your heart! your — ! (Suddenly.) Baggage! with whom are you smitten? (She averts her face.) (Harshly.) With whom? with whom? (Jumping up.) Why, you misbegotten little trull, ere I made you my page you had hated men, as such!
JACQ. (rising). So did I.
DEVIL. And now — ! the name of the knave? his title?
JACQ. Oh, sir!
DEVIL. Ah! (Grasping her wrist.) 'Tis I!
JACQ. Mercy! thy nails!
DEVIL. 'Tis I! speak!
JACQ. Pardon!
DEVIL. Speak!
JACQ. Master, when I promised thee I could ne'er love man, then — then —
DEVIL. Then — ?
JACQ. Then a man had ne'er become poor Jacqueline's master.
DEVIL (flinging her aside, and pacing to and fro, enraged). Faugh! faugh! ugh! ugh! puh!
JACQ. Pardon me! oh, pardon me! I do desire naught but to serve thee humbly and faithfully till death.
DEVIL. Get thee gone! I am weary of thee! I took ye, fed ye, clothed ye, that thou shouldst be merry, mischievous, and spiteful; and now thou art sick with pure, honest, maidenly devotion. Puh! (Flinging her lute over the balustrade.) Go! back to thy foul stable!
JACQ. Nay, let me stay, sir.
DEVIL. Rummage beneath the straw; there lie thy rags, where thou didst stow them.
JACQ. Master, I will not leave thee.
DEVIL (formidably). Wilt not! (Pointing to the left.) To thy rags! to thy stable!
She departs unsteadily. From the right comes the sound of SIMON'svoice calling
piteously to SAIDA.
DEVIL (listening). Ha!
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Page modified 4 October 2011