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The Ingoldsby Legends; or, Mirth and Marvels cover

The Ingoldsby Legends; or, Mirth and Marvels

Chapter 52: RAISING THE DEVIL.
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About This Book

The work assembles comic and macabre tales and poems that blend folk legend, ecclesiastical hagiography, and satirical pastiche. Entries range from ghost stories and ballads to dramatic sketches and playful parodies, shifting fluidly between eerie atmosphere and buoyant humor. Recurring features include witty wordplay, mock-serious moralizing, and imaginative transformations of traditional material; the arrangement alternates narrative episodes and lyrical lays, producing varied pacing and tone. Illustrations traditionally accompany the pieces, reinforcing their comic grotesque and enhancing scenes of the supernatural and the absurd.

A LEGEND OF CORNELIUS AGRIPPA.

And hast thou nerve enough?" he said, That grey Old Man, above whose head Unnumber'd years had roll'd,— "And hast thou nerve to view," he cried, "The incarnate Fiend that Heaven defied?— —Art thou indeed so bold?
"Say, canst thou, with unshrinking gaze, Sustain, rash youth, the withering blaze Of that unearthly eye, That blasts where'er it lights,—the breath That, like the Simoom, scatters death On all that yet can die!
—"Darest thou confront that fearful form, That rides the whirlwind, and the storm, In wild unholy revel?— The terrors of that blasted brow, Archangel's once,—though ruin'd now— —Ay,—dar'st thou face The Devil!?"—
"I dare!" the desperate Youth replied, And placed him by that Old Man's side, In fierce and frantic glee, Unblenched his cheek, and firm his limb; —"No paltry juggling Fiend, but Him! The Devil!—I fain would see!—
"In all his Gorgon terrors clad, His worst, his fellest shape!" the Lad Rejoined in reckless tone.— —"Have then thy wish!" Agrippa said, And sigh'd, and shook his hoary head, With many a bitter groan.
He drew the mystic circle's bound, With skull and cross-bones fenc'd around; He traced full many a sigil there; He mutter'd many a backward pray'r, That sounded like a curse— "He comes!"—he cried, with wild grimace, "The fellest of Apollyon's race!"— —Then in his startled pupil's face He dash'd an empty purse!!


One more legend, and then, gentle Reader, "A merry Christmas to you and a happy New Year!"—We have travelled over many lands together, and had many a good-humoured laugh by the way;—if we have, occasionally, been "more merry than wise," at least we have not jostled our neighbours on the road,—much less have we kicked any one into a ditch.

So wishing you heartily all the compliments of the season,—and thanking you cordially for your good company, I, Thomas Ingoldsby, bid you heartily farewell, and leave you in that of