 | The late Lancashire VVitches |  |
Scæna, I.
Enter 4. VVitches: (severally.)All.
Hoe! well met, well met.
Meg.
VVhat new devise, what dainty straine
More for our myrth now then our gaine,
Shall we in practice put.
Meg.
Nay dame,
Before we play another game,
VVe must a little laugh and thanke.
Our feat familiars for the pranck
They playd us last.
Mawd.
Or they will misse
Vs in our next plot, if for this
They find not their reward.
Meg.
'Tis right.
Gil.
Therefore sing Mawd, and call each spright.
Come away, and take thy duggy,
Enter foure Spirits.
Meg.
Come my Mamilion like a Puggy,
Mawd.
And come my puckling take thy tear,
Your travels have deserv'd your meat.
Meg.
Now upon the Churles ground
On which we're met, lets dance a round;
That Cocle, Darnell, Poppia wild,
May choake his graine, and fill the field.
Gil.
Now spirits fly about the taske,
That we projected in our Maske.
Exit Spirits.
Meg.
Now let us laugh to thinke upon
The feat which we have so lately done,
In the distraction we have set
In Seelyes house; which shall beget
VVonder and sorrow 'mongst our foes,
All.
Ha, ha, ha!
Meg.
I can but laugh now to foresee,
The fruits of their perplexity.
Gil.
Of Seely's family?
Meg.
I, I, I, the Father to the Sonne doth cry,
The Sonne rebukes the Father old;
The Daughter at the mother Scold,
The wife the husband check and chide,
But that's no wonder, through the wide
VVorld 'tis common.
Gil.
But to be short,
The wedding must bring on the sport
Betwixt the hare-brayn'd man and mayd,
Master and dame that over-sway'd.
All.
Ha, ha, ha!
Meg.
Enough, enough,
Our sides are charm'd, or else this stuffe
VVould laughter-cracke them; let's away
About the Iig: we dance to day,
To spoyle the Hunters sport.
Gil.
I that, be now the subject of our chat.
Meg.
Then list yee well, the Hunters are
This day by vow to kill a Hare,
Or else the sport they will forsweare;
And hang their Dogs up.
Mawd.
Stay, but where
Must the long threatned hare be found?
Gill.
They'l search in yonder Meadow ground.
Meg.
There will I be, and like a wily VVat,
Vntill they put me up; ile squat.
Gill.
I and my puckling will a brace
Of Greyhounds be, fit for the race;
And linger where we may be tane
Vp for the course in the by-lane;
Then will we lead their Dogs a course,
And every man and every horse;
Vntill they breake their necks, and say—
The Divell on Dun is rid this way. Ha. ha, ha, ha.
Meg.
All the doubt can be but this,
That if by chance of me they misse,
And start another Hare.
Gil.
Then we'll not run
But finde some way how to be gone.
I shal know thee Peg, by thy grissel'd gut,
Meg.
And I you Gilian by your gaunt thin gut.
But where will Mawd bestow her selfe to day?
Mawd.
O'th' Steeple top; Ile sit & see you play.
Exeunt.
Enter Mr. Generous, Arthur, Bantam, Shakstone, and VVhetstone.
Gener.
At meeting, and at parting Gentlemen,
I onely make use of that generall word,
So frequent at all feasts, and that but once; y'are welcome.
You are so, all of you, and I intreat you
Take notice of that speciall businesse,
Betwixt this Gentleman my friend, and I.
About the Morgage, to which writings drawne,
Your hands are witnesse.
Bant. & Shak.
VVe acknowledge it.
VVhet.
My hand is there too, for a man cannot set to his
Marke, but it may be call'd his hand; I am a Gentleman both
wayes, and it hath been held that it is the part of a Gentleman,
to write a scurvie hand.
Bant.
You write Sir like your selfe.
Gener.
Pray take no notice of his ignorance,
You know what I foretold you.
Arth.
'Tis confest, but for that word by you so seldome spoke
By us so freely on your part perform'd,
VVe hold us much ingag'd.
Gener.
I pray, no complement,
It is a thing I doe not use my selfe,
Nor doe I love 't in others.
Arth.
For my part, could I at once dissolve my selfe to words
And after turne them into matter; such
Of all the curious, and most itching eares
Of this our Crittick age; it cou'd not make
A theame amounting to your noble worth:
You seeme to me to super-arrogate,
Supplying the defects of all your kindred
To innoble your own name: I now have done Sir.
VVhet.
Hey day, this Gentleman speakes likes a Country
Parson that had tooke his text out of Ovids Metamorphosis.
Gener.
Sir, you Hyperbolize;
And I coo'd chide you for't, but whil'st you connive
At this my Kinsman, I shall winke at you;
'Twil prove an equall match.
Gener.
Your name proclaimes
To be such as it speakes, you, Generous.
Gener.
Still in that straine!
Arth.
Sir, sir, whilst you persever to be good
I must continue gratefull.
Gener.
Gentlemen, the greatest part of this day you see is spent
In reading deeds, conveyances, and bonds,
VVith sealing and subscribing; will you now
Take part of a bad Supper.
Arth.
VVe are like travellers
And where such bayt, they doe not use to Inne.
Our love and service to you.
Gener.
The first I accept,
The Last I entertaine not, farewell Gentlemen.
Arth.
VVe'l try if we can finde in our way home
VVhen Hares come from their coverts, to reliffe,
A course or too.
VVhet.
Say you so Gentlemen, nay then I am for your company
still, 'tis sayd Hares are like Hermophrodites, one while
Male, and another Female, and that which begets this yeare,
brings young ones the next; which some think to be the reason
that witches take their shapes so oft: Nay if I lye Pliny lyes too,
but come, now I have light upon you, I cannot so lightly leave
you farewell Vnckle.
Cozen I wish you would consort your selfe,
With such men ever, and make them your President,
For a more Gentile carriage.
Arth.
Good Master Generous—
Exeunt, manet Generous.
Enter Robert.
Gen.
Robin.
Rob.
Sir.
Gen.
Goe call your Mistresse hither.
Rob.
My Mistresse Sir, I doe call her Mistresse, as I doe call
you Master, but if you would have me call my Mistresse to my
Master, I may call lowd enough before she can heare me.
Gener.
Why she's not deafe I hope, I am sure since Dinner
She had her hearing perfect.
Rob.
And so she may have at Supper too for ought I know,
but I can assure you she is not now within my call.
Gener.
Sirrah you trifle, give me the Key oth' Stable,
I will goe see my Gelding; i'th' meane time
Goe seeke her out, say she shall finde me there.
Rob.
To tell you true sir, I shall neither finde my Mistresse
here, nor you your Gelding there.
Gener.
Ha! how comes that to passe?
Rob.
Whilst you were busie about your writings, she came
and commanded me to saddle your Beast, and sayd she would
ride abroad to take the ayre.
Gener.
Which of your fellowes did she take along to wayte
on her?
Rob.
None sir.
Gener.
None! hath she us'd it often?
Rob.
Oftner I am sure then she goes to Church, and leave
out Wednesdayes and Fridayes.
Gener.
And still alone?
Rob.
If you call that alone, when no body rides in her company.
Gen.
But what times hath she sorted for these journeyes?
Rob.
Commonly when you are abroad, and sometimes when
you are full of businesse at home.
Gener.
To ride out often and alone, what sayth she
When she takes horse, and at her backe returne?
Rob.
Onely conjures me that I shall keepe it from you, then
clappes me in the fist with some small piece of silver, and then a
Gen.
I know her a good woman and well bred,
Of an unquestion'd carriage, well reputed
Amongst her neighbors, reckon'd with the best
And ore me most indulgent; though in many
Such things might breed a doubt and jealousie,
Yet I hatch no such phrensie. Yet to prevent
The smallest jarre that might betwixt us happen;
Give her no notice that I know thus much.
Besides I charge thee, when she craves him next
He be deny'd; if she be vext or mov'd
Doe not thou feare, Ile interpose my selfe
Betwixt thee and her anger, as you tender
Your duty and my service, see this done.
Rob.
Now you have exprest your minde, I know what I have
to doe; first, not to tell her what I have told you &, next to keep
her side-saddle from comming upon your Gueldings backe;
but howsoever it is like to hinder me of many a round tester.
Gener.
As oft as thou deny'st her, so oft clayme
That teaster from me, 't shall be roundly payd.
Rob.
You say well in that sir, I dare take your word, you are
an honest Gentleman, and my Master; and now take mine as I
am your true servant, before she shall backe your Guelding again
in your absence, while I have the charge of his keeping; she
shall ride me, or Ile ride her.
Gen.
So much for that. Sirrah my Butler tels me
My Seller is drunke dry, I meane those Bottles
Of Sack and Claret, are all empty growne
And I have guests to morrow, my choyse friends.
Take the gray Nag i'th' stable, and those Bottles
Fill at Lancaster,
There where you use to fetch it.
Rob.
Good newes for me, I shall sir.
Gen.
O Robin, it comes short of that pure liquor
We drunke last Terme in London at the Myter
In Fleet-street, thou remembrest it; me thought
It was the very spirit of the Grape,
Rob.
Yes sir, I so remember it, that most certaine it is I never
shal forget it, my mouth waters ever since when I but think
on't, whilst you were at supper above, the drawer had me down
into the Cellar below, I know the way in againe if I see't, but
at that time to finde the way out againe, I had the help of more
eies than mine owne: is the taste of that Ipsitate stil in your pallat
sir?
Gener.
What then? But vaine are wishes, take those bottles
And see them fil'd where I command you sir.
Rob.
I shall: never c'ud I have met with such a faire opportunitie:
for iust in the mid way lies my sweet-heart, as lovely a
lasse as any is in Lancashire, and kisses as sweetly: i'le see her going
or comming, i'le have one smouch at thy lips, and bee with
thee to bring Mal Spencer.
Exit.
Gen.
Go hasten your return, what he hath told me
Touching my wife is somewhat strange, no matter
Bee't as it will, it shall not trouble me.
Shee hath not lyen so long so neere my side,
That now I should be jealous.
Enter a souldier.
Sold.
You seeme sir a Gentleman of quality, and no doubt but
in your youth have beene acquainted with affaires military, in
your very lookes there appeares bounty, and in your person humanity.
Please you to vouchsafe the tender of some small courtesie
to help to beare a souldier into his countrey.
Gen.
Though I could tax you friend, & justly too
For begging 'gainst the Statute in that name,
Yet I have ever bin of that compassion,
Where I see want, rather to pittie it
Than to use power. Where hast thou serv'd?
Sold.
With the Russian against the Polack, a heavy war, and
hath brought me to this hard fate. I was tooke prisoner by the
Pole, & after some few weeks of durance, got both my freedom
and passe. I have it about me to show, please you to vouchsafe
the perusall.
It shall not need. What Countreyman.
Sold.
Yorkeshire sir. Many a sharp battell by land, and many
a sharpe storme at sea, many a long mile, and many a short
meale, I have travel'd and suffer'd ere I c'ud reach thus far, I
beseech you sir take my poore & wretched case into your worships
noble consideration.
Gener.
Perhaps thou lov'st this wandring life
To be an idle loitering begger, than
To eat of thine owne labour.
Sold.
I sir! Loitering I defie sir, I hate lazinesse as I do leprosie:
It is the next way to breed the scurvie, put mee to hedge,
ditch, plow, thresh, dig, delve, any thing: your worship shal find
that I love nothing lesse than loitering.
Gener.
Friend thou speakest well.
Enter Miller (his hands and face scratcht, and bloudy.
Miller.
Your Mill quoth he, if ever you take me in your mill
againe, i'le give you leave to cast my flesh to the dogges, and
grinde my flesh to pouder, betwixt the Milstones. Cats do you
call them, for their hugenesse they might bee cat a mountaines,
and for their clawes, I thinke I have it here in red and white to
shew, I pray looke here sir, a murreine take them, ile be sworne
they have scratcht, where I am sure it itcht not.
Gener.
How cam'st thou in this pickle?
Ml.
Yoiu see sir, and what you see, I have felt, & am come to
give you to understand i'le not indure such another night if you
would give mee your mill for nothing, they say we Millers are
theeves: but I c'ud as soone bee hangd as steale one piece of a
nap all the night long, good Landlord provide your selfe of a
new tenant, the noise of such catterwawling, & such scratching
and clawing, before I would indure againe, i'le bee tyed to the
saile when the winde blowes sharpest, and they flie swiftest, till
I be torne into as many fitters as I have toes and fingers.
Sold.
I was a Miller my selfe before I was a souldier. What
one of my own trade should be so poorely spirited frighted with cats?
Here is a blade that hangs upon this belt
That spight of all these Rats, Cats, Wezells, Witches
I'le quiet my possession.
Gener.
Well spoke Souldier.
I like thy resolution. Fellow, you then
Have given the Mill quite over.
Mil.
Over and over, here I utterly renounce it; nor would
I stay in it longer, if you would give me your whole estate; nay
if I say it, you may take my word Landlord.
Sold.
I pray sir dare you trust your mill with me.
Gener.
I dare, but I am loth, my reasons these.
For many moneths, scarce any one hath lien there
But have bin strangely frighted in his sleepe,
Or from his warme bed drawne into the floore,
Or clawd and scratcht, as thou seest this poore man,
So much, that it stood long untenanted,
Till he late undertooke it, now thine eies
Witnesse how he hath sped.
Sold.
Give me the keies, ile stand it all danger.
Gener.
'Tis a match: deliver them.
Mil.
Mary withall my heart, and I am glad, I am so rid of em.
Exeunt.
Enter Boy with a switch.
Boy.
Now I have gathered Bullies, and fild my bellie pretty
well, i'le goe see some sport. There are gentlemen coursing in
the medow hard by; and 'tis a game that I love better than going
to Schoole ten to one.
What have we here a brace of Greyhounds broke loose from
their masters: it must needs be so, for they have both their Collers
and slippes about their neckes. Now I looke better upon
them, me thinks I should know them, and so I do: these are Mr.
Robinsons dogges, that dwels some two miles off, i'le take them
up, & lead them home to their master; it may be somthing in my
way, for he is as liberall a gentleman, as any is in our countrie,
Come Hector, come. Now if I c'ud but start a Hare by the way,
kill her, and carry her home to my supper, I should thinke I had
Come poore curres along with me.
Exit.
Enter Arthur, Bantam, Shakstone, and Whestone.
Arth.
My Dog as yours.
Shak.
For what?
Arth.
A piece.
Shak.
'Tis done.
Bant.
I say the pide dog shall outstrip the browne.
Whe.
And ile take the brown dogs part against the pide
Bant.
Yes when hee's at his lap youle take his part.
Arth.
Bantam forbeare him prethee.
Bant.
He talks so like an Asse I have not patience to
indure his non sence.
Whet.
The browne dogge for two peeces.
Bant.
Of what?
Whet.
Of what you dare; name them from the last
Farthings with the double rings, to the late
Coy'nd peeces which they say are all counterfeit.
Bant.
Well sir, I take you: will you cover these, give them into
the hands of either of those two gentlemen.
Whet.
What needs that? doe you thinke my word and my
money is not all one?
Bant.
And weigh alike: both many graines too light.
Shak.
Enough of that, I presume Mr. Whetstone, you are not
ignorant what belongs to the sport of hunting.
Whet.
I thinke I have reason, for I have bin at the death of
more Hares.
Bant.
More then you shed the last fall of the leafe.
Whet.
More then any man here I am sure. I should be loath
at these yeares to be ignorant of hairing or whoring. I knew
a hare close hunted, clime a tree.
Bant.
To finde out birds nests
Whet.
Another leap into a river, nothing appearing above
water, save onely the tip of her nose to take breath.
Shak.
Nay that's verie likely, for no man can fish with an
angle but his Line must be made of hare.
Whet.
You say right, I knew another, who to escape the
Dogges hath taken a house, and leapt in at a window.
It is thought you came into the World that way.
Whet.
How meane you that?
Bant.
Because you are a bastard.
Whet.
Bastard! O base.
Bant.
And thou art base all over.
Arth.
Needs must I now condemne your indiscretion,
To set your wit against his.
Whet.
Bastard? that shall be tried; well Gentlemen concerning
Hare-hunting you might have hard more, if he had had
the grace to have said lesse, but for the word Bastard, if I do not
tell my Vncle, I and my Aunt too, either when I would speake
ought or goe of the skore for any thing, let me never be trusted,
they are older than I, and what know I, but they might bee by
when I was begot; but if thou Bantam do'st not heare of this
with both thine eares, if thou hast them still, and not lost them
by scribling, instead of Whet-stone call me Grinde-stone, and for
By-blow, Bulfinch. Gentlemen, for two of you your companie
is faire and honest; but for you Bantam, remember and take notice
also, that I am a bastard, and so much i'le testifie to my Aunt
and Vncle.
Exit.
Arth.
What have you done, 'twill grieve the good old Gentleman,
to heare him baffled thus.
Bant.
I was in a cold sweat ready to faint
The time he staid amongst us.
Shak.
But come, now the Hare is found and started.
She shall have Law, so to our sport.
Exit.
Enter Boy with the Greyhounds.
A Hare, a Hare, halloe, halloe, the Divell take these curres,
will they not stir, halloe, halloe, there, there, there, what are they
growne so lither and so lazie? Are Mr. Robinsons dogges turn'd
tykes with a wanion? the Hare is yet in sight, halloe, halloe,
mary hang you for a couple of mungrils (if you were worth hāging,
& have you serv'd me thus? nay then ile serve you with the
like sauce, you shall to the next bush, there will I tie you, and use
you like a couple of curs as you are, & though not lash you, yet
your speed, ile see if I can put spirit into you, and put you in remembrance
what halloe, halloe meanes.
As he beats them, there appeares before him, Gooddy Dickison, and the Boy upon the dogs, going in.
Now blesse me heaven, one of the Greyhounds turn'd into a
woman, the other into a boy! The lad I never saw before, but
her I know well; it is my gammer Dickison.
G. Dick.
Sirah, you have serv'd me well to swindge me thus.
You yong rogue, you have vs'd me like a dog.
Boy.
When you had put your self into a dogs skin, I pray how
c'ud I help it; but gammer are not you a Witch? if you bee, I
beg upon my knees you will not hurt me.
Dickis.
Stand up my boie, for thou shalt have no harme,
Be silent, speake of nothing thou hast seene.
And here's a shilling for thee.
Boy.
Ile have none of your money gammer, because you are
a Witch: and now she is out of her foure leg'd shape, ile see if
with my two legs I can out-run her.
Dickis.
Nay sirra, though you be yong, and I old, you are not
so nimble, nor I so lame, but I can overtake you.
Boy.
But Gammer what do you meane to do with me
Now you have me?
Dickis.
To hugge thee, stroke thee, and embrace thee thus,
And teach thee twentie thousand prety things.
So thou tell no tales; and boy this night
Thou must along with me to a brave feast.
Boy.
Not I gammer indeedla, I dare not stay ont late,
My father is a fell man, and if I bee out long, will both
chide and beat me.
Dickis.
Not sirra, then perforce thou shalt along,
This bridle helps me still at need,
And shall provide us of a steed.
Now sirra, take your shape and be
Prepar'd to hurrie him and me.
Exit.
Now looke and tell mee wher's the lad become.
Boy.
The boy is vanisht, and I can see nothing in his stead
Dickis.
And thats the horse we must bestride,
On which both thou and I must ride,
Thou boy before and I behinde,
The earth we tread not, but the winde,
For we must progresse through the aire,
And I will bring thee to such fare
As thou ne're saw'st, up and away,
For now no longer we can stay,
She catches him up, & turning round. Exit.
Boy.
Help, help.
Enter Robin and Mall.
Thanks my sweet Mall for thy courteous entertainment, thy
creame, thy cheese-cakes, and every good thing, this, this, & this
for all.
kisse.
Mal.
But why in such hast good Robin?
Robin.
I confesse my stay with thee is sweet to mee, but I
must spur Cutt the faster for't, to be at home in the morning, I
have yet to Lancaster to ride to night, and this my bandileer of
bottles, to fill to night, and then halfe a score mile to ride by currie-combe
time, i'the morning, or the old man chides Mal.
Mal.
Hee shall not chide thee, feare it not.
Robin.
Pray Bacchus I may please him with his wine, which
will be the hardest thing to do; for since hee was last at London
and tasted the Divinitie of the Miter, scarce any liquour in Lancashire
will go downe with him, sure, sure he will never be a Puritane,
he holds so well with the Miter.
Mal.
Well Robert, I find your love by your haste from me, ile
undertake you shal be at Lancaster, & twise as far, & yet at home
time enough, and be rul'd by me.
Rob.
Thou art a witty rogue, and thinkst to make me believe
any thing, because I saw thee make thy broome sweepe the
house without hands t'other day.
Mal.
You shall see more than that presently, because you
shall beleeve me; you know the house is all a bed here: and I
dare not be mist in the morning. Besides, I must be at the wedding
of Lawrence and Parnell to morrow.
I your old sweetheart Lawrence? Old love will not be
forgotten
Mal.
I care not for the losse of him, but if I fit him not hang
me: but to the point, if I goe with you to night, and help you to
as good wine as your master desires, and you keepe your time
with him, you will give me a pinte for my company.
Rob.
Thy belly full wench.
Mal.
I'le but take up my milk payle and leave it in the field,
till our comming backe in the morning, and wee'll away.
Rob.
Goe fetch it quickly then.
Mal.
No Robert, rather than leave your company so long,
it shall come to me.
Rob.
I would but see that.
The Payle goes.
Mal.
Looke yonder, what do you thinke on't.
Rob.
Light, it comes; and I do thinke there is so much of the
Divell in't as will turne all the milke shall come in't these seven
yeares, and make it burne too, till it stinke worse than the Proverbe
of the Bishops foot.
Mal.
Looke you sir, heere I have it, will you get up and away.
Rob.
My horse is gone, nay prithee Mal. thou hast set him away,
leave thy Roguerie.
Mal.
Looke againe.
Rob.
There stands a blacke long-sided jade: mine was a
truss'd gray.
Mal.
Yours was too short to carrie double such a journey.
Get up I say, you shall have your owne againe i'th morning.
Rob.
Nay but, nay but.
Mal.
Nay, and you stand butting now, i'le leave you to look
your horse. Payle on afore to the field, and staie till I come.
Rob.
Come away then, hey for Lancaster: stand up.
Exeunt
| The late Lancashire VVitches | |