as a confused and howling rabble, and each soldier
carried a dagger and a flaming torch. The chief of the third column
advanced with bold and haughty steps; he was clothed in the simple dress
of the sages, and was called _Philosophy_. He bore in his hand, as did
all his followers, a golden cup, filled with foaming and intoxicating
liquor. These two last armies howled and screamed so frightfully, that
even the bellowing of the waters and the roar of the tempest were no
longer audible.

When the three columns arrived near the labourers, they united, by the
directions of their generals, and attacked them furiously with their
murderous weapons. The most courageous of the workmen flung away their
implements of labour, and drew their swords, which hung at their belts,
in order to drive their foes back. The others, in the mean time,
endeavoured, with redoubled zeal, to complete the fabric they had begun.
The Genius protected his brave warriors and his industrious labourers
with a huge glittering shield, which was handed to him from the sky; but
he could not cover the whole of the countless multitude. He saw with
deep sorrow thousands of his people sink to the earth beneath the swords
and poisoned darts of their adversaries. Many allowed themselves to be
ensnared by the invitations and allurements of those who offered them the
enchanted cup to refresh themselves with; and, in their intoxication,
they soon destroyed the laborious work of their hands.

Those who bore torches made their way with their daggers, and hurled the
torches into the unfinished edifice, when the flames, rearing up,
threatened to reduce it to ashes. The Genius looked mournfully upon the
slain, and on those who had been intoxicated by the deceitful beverage;
but he encouraged the rest, and inspired them, by his firmness and his
dignity, with strength and patience. They extinguished the flames;
replaced what the others had overturned; and laboured, amid death and
destruction, with so much zeal, that, in spite of the fury and malignity
of their foes, they raised at length a vast and sublime temple. The
Genius then healed the wounded, comforted the weary, praised the bold
warriors, and conducted them all, amid songs of triumph, into the temple.
The foes stood confounded at the enormous work; and, after they had in
vain attempted to shatter its solidity, they retreated, with rage in
their hearts. Faustus now found himself upon the island. The field