can) Oh, dear! Oh, lord! Talk of the devil, and he pops up his horns. There the old gentleman is, sure enough. (a pause and dead silence, while Punch continues to gaze at the spot where the Devil appeared. The Devil comes forward) Good, kind Mr. Devil, I never did you any harm, but all the good in my power.—There, don't come any nearer. How you do, Sir? (collecting courage) I hope you and all your respectable family well? Much obliged for this visit—Good morning—should be sorry to keep you, for I know you have a great deal of business when you come to London, (the Devil advances) Oh, dear! What will become of me? (the Devil darts at Punch, who escapes, and aims a blow at his enemy: the Devil eludes it, as well as many others, laying his head on the platform, and slipping it rapidly backwards and forwards, so that Punch, instead of striking him, only repeatedly hits the boards) Exit Devil.
Punch. He, he, he! (laughing) He's off: he knew which side his bread buttered on. He one deep, cunning devil. (Punch is alarmed by hearing a strange supernatural whirring noise, something like the rapid motion of fifty spinning wheels, and again retreats to the corner, fearfully waiting the event)
Punch. Oh, my head! What is that for? Pray, Mr. Devil, let us be friends, (the Devil hits him again, and Punch begins to take it in dudgeon, and to grow angry) Why, you must be one very stupid Devil not to know your best friend when you see him. (the Devil hits him again) Be quiet, I say, you hurt me!—Well if you won't, we must try which is the best man,—Punch or the Devil.
