 | The Witch of Edmonton |  |
Act. II.
Scæn. 1.
Enter Elizabeth Sawyer, gathering sticks.Sawy.
And why on me? why should the envious world
Throw all their scandalous malice upon me?
'Cause I am poor, deform'd and ignorant,
And like a Bow buckl'd and bent together,
By some more strong in mischiefs then my self?
Must I for that be made a common sink,
For all the filth and rubbish of Men's tongues
To fall and run into? Some call me VVitch;
And being ignorant of my self, they go
About to teach me how to be one: urging,
That my bad tongue (by their bad usage made so)
Forespeaks their Cattle, doth bewitch their Corn,
Themselves, their Servants, and their Babes at nurse.
This they enforce upon me: and in part
Enter O. Banks.
Make me to credit it. And here comes one
Of my chief Adversaries.
O. Bank.
Our, out upon thee, VVitch.
Sawy.
Dost call me VVitch?
O. Bank.
I do, VVitch, I do: and worse I would, knew I a name
more hateful. VVhat makest thou upon my ground?
Sawy.
Gather a few rotten sticks to warm me.
Down with them when I bid thee, quickly;
I'll make thy bones rattle in thy skin else.
Sawy.
You won't, Churl, Cut-throat, Miser: there they be.
VVould they stuck cross thy throat, thy bowels, thy maw, thy
midriff.
O. Bank.
Sayst thou me so? Hag, out of my ground.
Sawy.
Dost strike me, slave? curmudgeon now thy bones aches,
thy joynts cramps, and commisions stretch and crack thy sinews.
O. Bank.
Cursing, thou Hag! take that, and that.
Exit.
Sawy.
Strike, do, and wither'd may that hand and arm
Whose blows have lam'd me, drop from the rotten Trunk.
Abuse me! beat me! call me Hag and Witch!
What is the name? where and by what Art learn'd?
What spells, what charms, or invocations?
May the thing call'd Familiar be purchas'd?
Enter Young Banks, and three or four more.
Y. Bank.
A new head for the Tabor, and silver tipping for the
Pipe. Remember that, and forget not five lesh of new Bells.
1.
Double Bells: Crooked Lane ye shall have 'em straight in.
Crooked Lane: double Bells all, if it be possible.
Y. Bank.
Double Bells? double Coxcombs; Trebles: buy me
Trebles, all Trebles: for our purpose is to be in the Altitudes.
2.
All Trebles? not a Mean?
Y. Bank.
Not one: The Morrice is so cast, we'll have neither
Mean nor Base in our company, Fellow Rowland.
3.
VVat? nor a Counter?
Y. Bank.
By no means, no hunting Counter; leave that to Envile
Chase-Men: all Trebles, all in the Altitudes. Now for the
disposing of Parts in the Morrice, little or no labour will serve.
2.
If you that be minded to follow your Leader, know me, an
ancient Honor belonging to our house, for a Fore-horse, team, and
for gallant in a Morrice: my Father's Stable is not unfurnish'd.
3.
So much for the Fore-horse: but how for a good Hobby-horse?
Y. Bank.
For a Hobby-horse? Let me see an Almanack.
Midsummer-Moon, let me see ye. VVhen the Moon's in the full,
then's wit in the wane. No more. Use your best skill. Your Morrice
will suffer an Eclipse.
An Eclipse?
Y. Bank.
A strange one.
2.
Strange?
Y. Bank.
Yes, and most sudden. Remember the Fore-gallant,
and forget the Hobby-horse. The whole body of your Morrice
will be darkned. There be of us. But 'tis no matter. Forget
the Ho by-horse.
1.
Cuddy Banks, have you forgot since he pac'd it from Envile
Chase to Edmonton? Cuddy, honest Cuddy, cast thy stuff.
Y. Bank.
Suffer may ye all. It shall be known, I can take mine
ease as well as another Man. Seek your Hobby-horse where you
can get him.
1.
Cuddy, honest Cuddy, we confess, and are forty for our
neglect.
2.
The old Horse shall have a new Bridle.
3.
The Caparisons new painted.
4.
The Tail repair'd.
1.
The Snaffle and the Bosses new saffron'd o're.
1.
Kinde:
2.
Honest:
3.
Loving, ingenious:
4.
Affable Cuddy.
Y. Bank.
To shew I am not flint; but affable, as you say, very
well stuft, a kinde of warm Dowe or Puff-paste, I relent, I connive,
most affable Jack: let the Hobby-horse provide a strong back,
he shall not want a belly when I am in 'em. But Uds me, Mother
Sawyer.
1.
The old Witch of Edmonton. If our mirth be not cross'd.
2.
Bless us, Cuddy, and let her curse her tother eye out. VVhat
dost now?
Y. Bank.
Ungirt, unbless'd, says the Proverb. But my Girdle
shall serve a riding knit: and a fig for all the VVitches in Christendom.
VVhat wouldst thou?
1.
The Divel cannot abide to be cross'd.
2.
And scorns to come at any man's whistle.
3.
Away
4.
VVith the VVitch.
Omn.
Away with the VVitch of Edmonton.
Ex. in strange postur.
Sawy.
Still vex'd? still tortur'd? That Curmudgeon Banks
Is ground of all my scandal. I am shunn'd
And hated like a sickness: made a scorn
To all degrees and sexes. I have heard old Beldames
Talk of Familiars in the shape of Mice,
Rats, Ferrets, VVeasels, and I wor, not what,
But by what means they came acquainted with them,
I'm now ignorant: would some power good or bad
Instruct me which way I might be reveng'd
Upon this Churl, I'd go out of my self,
And give this Fury leave to dwell within
This ruin'd Cottage, ready to fall with age:
Abjure all goodness: be at hate with prayer;
And study Curses, Imprecations,
Blasphemous speeches, Oaths, detested Oaths,
Or any thing that's ill; so I might work
Revenge upon this Miser, this black Cur,
That barks, and bites, and sucks the very blood
Of me, and of my credit. 'Tis all one,
To be a VVitch, as to be counted one.
Vengeance, shame, ruine, light upon that Canker.
Enter Dog.
Dog.
Ho! have I found thee cursing? now thou art mine own.
Sawy.
Thine? what art thou?
Dog.
He thou hast so often importun'd to appear to thee, the
Devil.
Sawy.
Bless me! the Devil?
Dog.
Come, do not fear, I love thee much too well
To hurt or fright thee. If I seem terrible,
It is to such as hate me. I have found
Thy love unfeign'd; have seen and pitied
Thy open wrongs, and come out of my love
To give thee just revenge against thy foes.
Sawy.
May I believe thee?
Dog.
To confirm't, command me
Do any mischief unto Man or Beast,
And I'll effect it, on condition,
That uncompell'd thou make a deed of Gift
Of Soul and Body to me.
Sawy.
Out, alas!
My Soul and Body?
Dog.
And that instantly,
And seal it with thy blood: if thou deniest,
I'll tear thy body in a thousand pieces.
Sawy.
I know not where to seek relief: But shall I
On all that wrong me?
Dog.
Ha, ha, silly woman!
The Devil is no lyer to such as he loves.
Didst ever know or hear the Devil a lyer
To such as he affects?
Sawy.
VVhen I am thine, at least so much of me,
As I can call mine own.
Dog.
Equivocations?
Art mine or no? speak, or I'll tear.
Sawy.
All thine.
Dog.
Seal't with thy blood.
[Sucks her arm, thunder and lightning.
See, now I dare call thee mine;
For proof, command me, instantly I'll run,
To any mischief, goodness can I none.
Sawy.
And I desire as little. There's an old Churl, one Banks—
Dog.
That wrong'd thee: he lam'd thee, call'd thee VVitch.
Sawy.
The same: first upon him I'ld be reveng'd.
Dog.
Thou shalt: Do but name how.
Sawy.
Go, touch his life.
Dog.
I cannot.
Sawy.
Hast thou not vow'd? Go, kill the slave.
Dog.
I wonnot.
Sawy.
I'll cancel then my gift.
Dog.
Ha, ha!
Sawy.
Dost laugh?
VVhy wilt not kill him?
Dog.
Fool, because I cannot.
Though we have power, know, it is circumscrib'd,
And ti'd in limits: though he be curs'd to thee,
Yet of himself he is loving to the world,
And charitable to the poor. Now Men
That, as he, love goodness, though in smallest measure,
Live without compass of our reach. His Cattle
And Corn, I'll kill and mildew: but his life
(Until I take him, as I late found thee,
Cursing and swearing) I have no power to touch.
Saw.
Work on his corn and cattle then.
Dog.
I shall.
The VVitch of Edmonton shall see his fall.
If she at least put credit in my power,
And in mine onely; make Orisons to me,
And none but me.
Saw.
Say how, and in what manner?
Dog.
I'll tell thee, when thou wishest ill;
Turn thy back against the Sun,
And mumble this short Orison:
If thou to death or shame pursue 'em,
Sanctibicetur nomen tuum.
Sawy.
If thou to death or shame pursue 'em,
Sanctibecetur nomen tuum.
Dog.
Perfect. Farewel. Our first-made promises
We'll put in execution against Banks.
Exit.
Sawy.
Contaminetur nomen tuum. I'm an expert Scholar;
Speak Latine, or I know not well what Language,
As well as the best of 'em. But who comes here?
Enter Y. Ba.
The Son of my worst Foe. To death pursue 'em,
Et sanctabecetur nomen tuum.
Y. Bank.
What's that she mumbles? the Devils Pater noster?
Would it were else. Mother Sawyer, Good morrow.
Sawy.
Ill morrow to thee, and all the world, that flout a poor
old woman. To death pursue 'em, and sanctabacetur nomen tuum.
Y. Bank.
Nay, good Gammer Sawyer, what e're it pleases my
Father to call you, I know you are
Sawy.
A Witch.
Y. Bank.
A Witch? would you were else yfaith.
Sawy.
Your Father knows I am by this.
Y. Bank.
I would he did.
Sawy.
And so in time may you.
Y. Bank.
I would I might else. But Witch or no Witch, you
are a motherly woman: and though my Father be a kinde of God
bless us, as they say, I have an earnest suit to you; and if you'll
be so kinde to ka me one good turn, I'll be so courteous as to kob
you another.
Sawy.
VVhat's that? to spurn, beat me, and call me VVitch,
as your kinde Father doth?
Y. Bank.
My Father? I am asham'd to own him. If he has
hurt the head of thy credit, there's money to buy thee a Playster:
and a small courtesie I would require at thy hands.
Sawy.
You seem a good young Man, and I must dissemble, the
better to accomplish my revenge. But for this silver, what wouldst
have me do? bewitch thee?
Y. Bank.
No, by no means; I am bewitch'd already. I would
company.
Sawy.
I understand thee not. Be plain, my Son.
Y. Bank.
As a Pike-staff, Mother: you know Kate Carter.
Sawy.
The wealthy Yeomans Daughter. What of her?
Y. Bank.
That same Party has bewitch'd me.
Sawy.
Bewitch'd thee?
Y. Bank.
Bewitch'd me, Hisce auribus. I saw a little Devil flie
out of her eye like a Burbolt, which sticks at this hour up to the
Feathers in my heart. Now my request is, to send one of thy
what d'ye call 'ems, either to pluck that out, or stick another as
fast in hers. Do, and here's my hand, I am thine for three lives.
Sawy.
We shall have sport. Thou art in love with her.
Y. Bank.
Up to the very hilts, Mother.
Sawy.
And thou'ldst have me make her love thee too.
Y. Bank.
I think she'll prove a VVitch in earnest. Yes, I
could finde in my heart to strike her three quarters deep in love
with me too.
Sawy.
But dost thou think that I can do't, and I alone?
Y. Bank.
Truely, Mother Witch, I do verily believe so: and
when I see it done, I shall be half perswaded so too.
Sawy.
It's enough. VVhat Art can do, be sure of: turn to the
West, and whatsoe'er thou hearest or seest, stand silent, and be not
afraid.
She stamps.
Enter the Dog; he fawns and leaps upon her.
Y. Bank.
Afraid, Mother Witch? turn my face to the West?
I said I should always have a back-friend of her; and now it's out.
And her little Devil should be hungry, come sneaking behinde me,
like a cowardly Catchpole, and clap his Talents on my Haunches.
'Tis woundy cold sure. I dudder and shake like an Aspen-leaf every
joynt of me.
Sawy.
To scandal and disgrace pursue 'em,
Et sanctabicetur nomen tuum.
How now, my Son, how is't?
Exit Dog.
Y. Bank.
Scarce in a clean life, Mother Witch. But did your
Gobblin and you spout Latine together?
Sawy.
A kinde of Charm I work by. Didst thou hear me?
Y. Bank.
I heard I know not the Devil what mumble in a scurvy
Muster. Very comfortable words: what were they? and who
taught them you?
Sawy.
A great learned Man.
Y. Bank.
Learned Man? learned Devil it was as soon? But
what? what comfortable news about the Party?
Sawy.
Who? Kate Carter? I'll tell thee, thou knowst the Style at
the West-end of thy Father's Pease-Field, be there to morrow-night
after Sun-set; and the first live thing thou seest, be sure to
follow, and that shall bring thee to thy Love.
Y. Bank.
In the Pease-field? Has she a minde to Codlings already?
The first living thing I meet, you say, shall bring me
to her.
Sawy.
To a sight of her, I mean. She will seem wantonly coy,
and flee thee: but follow her close, and boldly: do but embrace
her in thy arms once, and she is thine own.
Y. Bank.
At the Style, at the West-end of my Father's Pease-land;
the first live thing I see, follow and embrace her, and she
shall be thine. Nay, and I come to embracing once, she shall be
mine; I'll go neer to make at Eaglet else.
Exit.
Sawy.
A ball well bandied: now the set 's half won:
The Father's wrong I'll wreak upon the Son.
Exit.
SCÆN. 2.
Enter Carter, Warbeck, Somerton.Cart.
How now Gentlemen, cloudy? I know Mr. Warbeck,
you are in a fog about my Daughters marriage.
Warb.
And can you blame me, Sir?
Cart.
Nor you me justly. VVedding and hanging are tied up
both in a Proverb; and Destiny is the Juggler that unties the knot.
My hope is, you are reserved to a richer fortune then my poor
Daughter.
Warb.
However, your promise.
Cart.
Is a kinde of debt, I confess it.
Warb.
VVhich honest men should pay.
Cart.
Yet some Gentlemen break in that point, now and then,
by your leave, Sir.
I confess thou hast had a little wrong in the VVench: but
patience is the onely salve to cure it. Since Thorney has won the
VVench, he has most reason to wear her.
Warb.
Love in this kinde admits no reason to wear her.
Cart.
Then love's a fool, and what wise man will take exception?
Som.
Come, frolick Ned, were every man master of his own fortune,
Fate might pick straws; and Destiny go a wool-gathering.
Warb.
You hold yours in a string though. 'Tis well: but if there
be any equity, look thou to meet the like usage e're long.
Som.
In my love to her Sister Katherine? Indeed, they are a
pair of Arrows drawn out of one Quiver, and should flie at an even
length, if she do run after her Sister.
Warb.
Look for the same mercy at my hands, as I have received
at thine.
Som.
She'll keep a surer compass. I have too strong a confidence
to mistrust her.
Warb.
And that confidence is a winde, that has blown many a
married Man ashore at Cuc0kolds Haven, I can tell you: I wish
yours more prosperous though.
Cart.
VVhate're you wish, I'll master my promise to him.
Warb.
Yes, as you did to me.
Cart.
No more of that, if you love me. But for the more assurance,
the next offer'd occasion shall consummate the Marriage:
and that once seal'd,
Enter Young Thorney and Susan.
Som.
Leave the mannage of the rest to my care. But see, the
Bridegroom and Bride comes; the new pair of Sheffeild-Knives
fitted both to one sheath.
Warb.
The Sheath might have been better fitted, if some body
had their due. But—
Cart.
No harsh language, if thou lovest me. Frank Thorney
has done—
Warb.
No more then I, or thou, or any man, things so standing,
would have attempted.
Som.
Good morrow Mr. Bridegroom.
Warb.
Come, give thee joy. Mayst thou live long and happy
in thy fair choice.
Y. Thor.
I thank yee Gentlemen. Kinde Mr. Warbeck, I find
you loving.
Thorney, that creatute, (much good do thee with her)
Vertue and beauty hold fair mixture in her.
She's rich no doubt in both. Yet were she fairer,
Thou art right worthy of her. Love her, Thorney,
'Tis nobleness in thee, in her but duty.
The match is fair and equal: the success
I leave to censure. Farewel, Mrs. Bride:
Till now elected, thy old scorne deride.
Exit.
Som.
Good, Mr. Thorney.
Cart.
Nay, you shall not part till you see the Barrels run a-tilt,
Gentlemen.
Exit.
Sus.
VVhy change you your face, sweet-Heart?
Y. Thor.
VVho? I? For nothing.
Sus.
Dear, say not so: a Spirit of your constancy cannot endure
his change for nothing. I have observ'd strange variations in you.
Y. Thor.
In me?
Sus.
In you, Sir. Awake: you seem to dream, and in your sleep
you utter sudden and distracted accents, like one at enmity with
peace. Dear loving Husband, if I may dare to challenge any
interest in you, give me the reason fully: you may trust my brest as
safely as your own.
Y. Thor.
VVith what? you half amaze me, prithee.
Sus.
Come, you shall not; indeed, you shall not shut me from
partaking the least dislike that grieves you. I am all yours.
Y. Thor.
And I all thine.
Sus.
You are not, if you keep the least grief from me: but I find
the cause; it grew from me.
Y. Thor.
From you?
Sus.
From some distaste in me or my behaviour: you are not
kinde in the concealment. 'Las, Sir, I am young, silly, and plain;
more strange to those contents a wife should offer. Say but in
what I fail, I'll study satisfaction.
Y. Thor.
Come, in nothing.
Sus.
I know I do. Knew I as well in what, you should not long
be sullen. Prithee Love, if I have been immodest or too bold,
speak't in a frown: if peevishly too nice, shew't in a smile. Thy
liking is the glass by which I'll habit my behaviour.
Y. Thor.
Wherefore dost weep now?
You, Sweet, have the power to make me passionate as an
April-day: now smile, then weep; now pale, then crismson red.
You are the powerful Moon of my bloods Sea, to make it ebb or
flow into my face, as your looks change.
Y. Thor.
Change thy conceit, I prithee:
Thou art all perfection: Diana her self
Swells in thy thoughts, and moderates thy beauty.
VVithin thy left eye amorous Cupid sits
Feathering Love-shafts, whose golden heads he dip'd
—In thy chaste brest. In the other lies
Blushing Adonis scarft in modesties.
And still as wanton Cupid blows Love-fires,
Adonis quenches our unchaste desires.
And from these two I briefly do imply
A perfect Embleme of thy modesty.
Then, prithee Dear, maintain no more dispute,
For where thou speakst, it's fit all tongues be mute.
Sus.
Come, come, those golden strings of flattery
Shall not tie up my speech, Sir; I must know
The ground of your disturbance.
Y. Thor.
Then look here;
For here, here is the fen in which this Hydra
Of discontent grows rank.
Sus.
Heaven sheild it: where?
Y. Tho.
In mine own bosom: here the cause has root;
The poysoned Leeches twist about my heart,
And will, I hope, confound me.
Sus.
You speak Riddles.
Y. Tho.
Take't plainly then: 'twas told me by a woman
Known and approv'd in Palmestry,
I should have two wives.
Sus.
Two wives? Sir, I take it exceeding likely. But let not
conceit hurt you: you are afraid to bury me?
Y. Thor.
No, no, my Winnifride.
Sus.
How say you? Winnifride? you forget me.
Y. Thor.
No, I forget my self, Susan.
Sus.
In what?
Y. Thor.
Talking of wives, I pretend Winnifride,
A Maid that at my Mothers waited on me
Before thy self.
I hope, Sir, she may live to take my place. But why should
all this move you?
Y. Thor.
The poor Girl, she has't before thee, and that's the
Fiend torments me.
Sus.
Yet why should this raise mutiny within you? such presages
prove often false: or say it should be true?
Y. Thor.
That I should have another wife?
Sus.
Yes, many; if they be good, the better.
Y. Thor.
Never any equal to thee in goodnes.
Sus.
Sir, I could wish I were much better for you;
Yet if I knew your fate
Ordain'd you for another, I could wish
(So well I love you, and your hopeful pleasure)
Me in my grave, and my poor vertues added
so my successor.
Y. Thor.
Pritheee, prithe, talk not of death or graves; thou
it so rare a goodness, as Death would rather put it self to death,
hen murther thee. But we, as all things else, are mutable and
hanging.
Sus.
Yet you still move in your first sphere of discontent. Sweet,
chase those clouds of sorrow, and shine cleerly on me.
Y. Thor.
At my return I will.
Sus.
Return? ah me! will you then leave me?
Y. Thor.
For a time I must: but how? as Birds their young, or
loving Bees their Hives, to fetch home richer dainties.
Sus.
Leave me? Now has my fear met its effect. You shall
not, cost it my life, you shall not.
Y. Thor.
Why? your reason?
Sus.
Like to the Lap-wing have you all this while with your
false love deluded me? pretending counterfeit senses for your discontent,
and now at last it is by chance stole from you.
Y. Thor.
What? what by chance?
Sus.
Your pre-appointed meeting of single combate with young
Warbeck.
Y. Thor.
Hah!
Sus.
Even so: dissemble not; 'tis too apparent. Then in his look
I read it: deny it not; I see 't apparent: cost it my undoing, and
unto that my life, I will not leave you.
Not until when?
Sus.
Till he and you be Friends.
Was this your cunning? and then flam me off
With an old VVitch, two VVives, and Winnifride?
Y'are not so kinde indeed as I imagin'd.
Y. Thor.
And you more fond by far then I expected.
It is a vertue that attends thy kinde.
But of our business within: and by this kiss,
I'll anger thee no more; troth Chuck I will not.
Sus.
You shall have no just cause,
Y. Thor.
Dear Sue, I shall not.
Exeunt.
| The Witch of Edmonton | |