Incubus! Incubus! Step forth! I do adjure thee thus! None of the Four Lurks
in the beast: He grins at me, untroubled as before; I have not hurt him in the
least. A spell of fear Thou now shalt hear. Art thou, comrade fell, Fugitive
from Hell? See then this sign, Before which incline The murky troops of Hell!
With bristling hair now doth the creature swell.
Canst thou, reprobate, Read the uncreate, Unspeakable, diffused Throughout
the heavenly sphere, Shamefully abused, Transpierced with nail and spear!
Behind the stove, tam'd by my spells, Like an elephant he swells; Wholly now