ut, Foletho. Come out, Astyma. Come out, Nebul.
Aha! what, have I found ye? 'tis thou, thou reptile; at thine old
tricks. Let us pray!
"Oh, Lord, we pray thee to drive the foul fiend Nebul out of this thy
creature: out of his hair, and his eyes, out of his nose, out of his
mouth, out of his ears, out of his gums, out of his teeth, out of his
shoulders, out of his arms, legs, loins, stomach, bowels, thighs, knees,
calves, feet, ankles, finger-nails, toe-nails, and soul. Amen."
The priest then rose from his knees, and turning to the company, said,
with quiet geniality, "Gentles, we have here as obstinate a divell as
you may see in a summer day." Then, facing the patient, he spoke to
him with great rigour, sometimes addressing 'the man and sometimes the
fiend, and they answered him in turn through the same mouth, now saying
that they hated those holy names the priest kept uttering, and now
complaining they did feel so bad in their inside.
It was the priest who first confounded the victim and the culprit in
idea, by pitching into the former, cuffing him soundly, kicking him, and
spitting repeatedly in his face. Then he took a candle and lighted it,
and turned it down, and burned it till it burned his fingers; when he
dropped it double quick. Then took the custodial; and showed the patient
the Corpus Domini within. Then burned another candle as before, but more
cautiously: then spoke civilly to the demoniac in his human character,
dismissed him, and received the compliments of the company.
"Good father," said Gerard, "how you have their names by heart. Our
northern priests have no such exquisite knowledge of the hellish
squadrons."
"Ay, young man, here we know all their names, and eke their ways, the
reptiles. This Nebul is a bitter hard one to hunt out."
He then told the company in the most affable way several of his
experiences; concluding with his feat of yesterday, when he drove a
great hulking fiend out of a woman by her mouth, leaving behind him
certain nails, and pins, and a tuft of his own hair, and cried out in a
voice of anguish, "'Tis not thou that conquers me. See that stone on
the window sill. Know that the angel Gabriel coming down to earth once
lighted on that stone: 'tis that has done my business."
The friar moaned. "And you believed him?"
"Certes! who but an infidel has discredited a revelation so precise."
"What, believe the father of lies? That is pushing credulity beyond the
age."
"O
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