 | The Witch of Edmonton |  |
Act. III.
Scæn. 1.
Enter Cuddy Banks, and Morice-dancers.1.
Nay, Cuddy, prithee do not leave us now: if we part all
this night, we shall not meet before day.
I prithee, Banks, let's keep together now.
Clow.
If you were wise, a word would serve: but as you are, I must
be forc'd to tell you again, I have a little private business, an
hours work; it may prove but an half hours, as luck may serve;
and then I take horse and along with you. Have we e're a Witch
in the Morice?
1.
No, no; no womans part, but Maid-marian, and the Hobby-
horse.
Clow.
I'll have a Witch; I love a Witch.
1.
Faith, VVitches themselves are so common now adays, that
the counterfeit will not be regarded. They say we have three or
four in Edmonton, besides Mother Sawyer.
2.
I would she would dance her part with us.
3.
So would not I; for if she comes, the Devil and all comes
along with her.
Clow.
VVell, I'll have a Witch: I have lov'd a VVitch ever
since I play'd at Cherry-pit. Leave me, and get my horse dress'd:
give him Oats; but water him not till I come. VVhither do we
foot it first?
2.
To sir Arthur Clarington's first, then whither thou wilt.
VVell, I'am content: but we must up to Carter's, the
rich Yeoman. I must be seen on Hobby-horse there.
1.
O, I smell him now: I'll lay my ears Banks is in love, and that's
the reason he would walk melancholy by himself.
Clow.
Hah! who was that said I was in love?
1.
Not I.
2.
Nor I.
Clow.
Go to: no more of that. When I understand what you
speak, I know what you say: believe that.
1.
VVell, 'twas I, I'll not deny it: I meant no hurt in't. I
have seen you walk up to Carter's of Chessum. Banks, were not
you there last Shrovetide?
Clow.
Yes, I was ten days together there the last Shrovetide.
2.
How could that be, when there are but seven dayes in the
week?
Clow.
Prithee peace, I reckon stila nova, as a Traveller: thou
understandest as a fresh-water Farmer, that never sawest a week
beyond Sea. Ask any Souldier that ever received his pay but in
the Low Countries, and he'll tell thee there are eight days in the
week there, hard by. How dost thou think they rise in high Germany,
Italy, and those remoter places?
3.
I, but simply there are but seven days in the week yet.
Clow.
No, simply as thou understandest. Prithee, look but in
the Lover's Almanack, when he has been but three days absent;
Oh, says he, I have not seen my Love these seven yeers: there's a
long cut. When he comes to her again, and embraces her, O, says
he, now methinks I am in Heaven; and that's a pretty step: he
that can get up to Heaven in ten days, need not repent his journey.
You may ride a hundred days in a Caroch, and be further off then
when you set forth. But I pray you, good Morrice-mates, now
leave me. I will be with you by midnight.
1.
Well, since he will be alone, we'll back again, and trouble
him no more.
Omn.
But remember, Banks.
Clow.
The Hobby-horse shall be remembred. But hark you:
get Poldavis, the Barber's Boy for the Witch, because he can shew
his Art better then another.
Well, now to my walk. I am neer the place where I should meet
the Gallows: say I meet a Horse, or Hare, or Hound, still I must
follow; some slow-pac'd Beast, I hope: yet Love is full of lightness
in the heaviest Lovers. Ha! my Guide is come. A VVaterDog.
I am thy first man, Sculler: I go with thee: ply no other
but my self: away with the Boat: land me but at Katherine's Dock,
my sweet Katherine's Dock, and I'll be a Fare to thee. That way?
nay, which way thou wilt, thou know'st the way better then I.
Fine gentle Cur it is, and well brought up, I warrant him. VVe
go a ducking, Spaniel; thou shalt fetch me the Ducks, pretty
kinde Rascal.
Enter Spirit in shape of Katherine, vizarded, and takes it off.
Spir.
Thus throw I off mine own essential horror,
And take the shape of a sweet lovely Maid
Whom this Fool doats on. VVe can meet his folly,
But from his Vertues must be Run-aways.
We'll sport with him: but when we reckoning call,
We know where to receive: th'Witch pays for all.
(Dog barks.
Clow.
I? is that the watch-word? She's come. Well, if ever
we be married, it shall be at Barking-Church, in memory of thee.
Now come behinde, kinde Cur.
I will teach thee to walk so late.
O see, we meet in Metre. What? dost thou trip from me? Oh
that I were upon my Hobby-horse, I would mount after thee so
nimble. Stay, Nymph, stay, Nymph, sing'd Apollo: tarry and
kiss me; sweet Nymph stay: tarry and kiss me, Sweet. We will
to Chessum-street, and then to the house stands in the high-way.
Nay, by your leave, I must embrace you. Oh help, help, I am
drown'd, I am drown'd.
Ex. Spir. and Banks.
Dog.
Ha, ha, ha, ha.
Enter wet.
Clow.
This was an ill night to go a wooing in; I finde it now in
Pond's Almanack: thinking to land at Katherine's Dock, I was
almost at Gravesend. I'll never go to a Wench in the Dogdays
again; yet 'tis cool enough. Had you never a paw in this
Dog-trick? a mangie take that black hide of yours: I'll throw you
in at Limehouse in some Tanner's Pit of other.
Dog.
Ha, ha, ha, ha.
How now? who's that laughs at me? Hist to him.
[Dog
braks.]
Peace, peace; thou didst but thy kinde neither. 'Twas
my own fault.
Dog.
Take heed how thou trustest the Devil another time.
Clow.
How now? who's that speaks? I hope you have not your
reading Tongue about you.
Dog.
Yes, I can speak.
Clow.
The Devil you can. You have read Esop's Fables then:
I have play'd one of your parts then; the Dog that catch'd at the
shadow in the water. Pray you, let me catechize you a little:
VVhat might one call your name, Dog?
Dog.
My Dame calls me Tom.
Clow.
'Tis well; and she may call me Ass: so there's an whole
one betwixt us, Tom-Ass. She said, I should follow you, indeed.
VVell, Tom, give me thy fist; we are Friends: you shall be mine
Ingle: I love you; but I pray you let's have no more of these
ducking devices.
Dog.
Not, if you love me. Dogs love where they are beloved.
Cherish me, and I'll do any thing for thee.
Clow.
VVell, you shall have Jowls and Livers: I have Butchers
to my Friends that shall bestow 'em: and I will keep Crusts and
Bones for you, if you'll be a kinde Dog, Tom.
Dog.
Any thing: I'll help thee to thy Love.
Clow.
Wilt thou? That promise shall cost me a brown Loaf,
though I steal it out of my Father's Cupboard. You'll eat stollen
Goods, Tom, will you not?
Dog.
Oh best of all. The sweetest bits, those.
Clow.
You shall not starve, Ningle Tom; believe that, if you
love Fish, I'll help you to Maids and Soles. I'm acquainted with
a Fishmonger.
Dog.
Maids and Soles? Oh, sweet bits! Banquetting stuff,
those.
Clow.
One thing I would request you, Ningle, as you have
play'd the Knavish Cur with me a little, that you would mingle
amongst our Morrice-Dancers in the morning. You can dance?
Dog.
Yes, yes, any thing: I'll be there, but unseen to any
but thy self. Get thee gone before: feare not my presence. I
have work to night. I serve more Masters, more Dames then one.
He can serve Mammon and the Devil too.
Dog.
It shall concern thee, and thy Loves purchase:
There's a gallant Rival loves the Maid;
And likely is to have her. Mark what a mischief
Before the Morrice ends, shall light on him.
Clow.
Oh sweet Ningle, thy neufe once again. Friends must
part for a time: farewel, with this remembrance; shalt have bread
too when we meet again. If ever there were an honest Devil,
'twill be the Devil of Edmonton, I see. Farewel Tom. I prithee dog
me as soon as thou canst.
Ex. Banks.
Dog.
I'll not miss thee, and be merry with thee.
Those that are joys denied, must take delight
In sins and mischiefs, 'tis the Devil's right.
Ex. Dog.
Enter Young Thorney, VVinnifride as a Boy.
Frank.
Prithee no more: those tears give nourishment
To weeds and briers in me, which shortly will
O'regrow and top my head: my shame will sit
And cover all that can be seen of me.
Win.
I have not shewn this cheek in company,
Pardon me now: thus singled with your self,
It calls a thousand sorrows round about.
Some going before, and some on either side;
But infinite behinde: all chain'd together.
Your second adulterous Marriage leads;
That's the sad Eclipse, the effects must follow.
As, plagues of shame, spight, scorn, and obloquy.
Y. Tho.
Why? hast thou not left one hours patience
To add to all the rest? One hour bears us
Beyond the reach of all these Enemies.
Are we not now set forward in the flight,
Provided with the Dowry of my sin,
To keep us in some other Nation?
VVhile we together are, we are at home
In any place.
Win.
'Tis fowl ill gotten coyn,
Far worse then Usury or Extortion.
Y. Thor.
Let my Father then make the restitution,
VVho forc'd me take the bribe: it is his gift
And patrimony to me; so I receive it.
He would not bless, nor look a Father on me,
VVhen I was sold, I sold my self again
(Some Knaves have done't in Lands, and I in Body)
For money, and I have the hire. But, sweet, no more,
'Tis hazard of discovery, our discourse;
And then prevention takes off all our hopes.
For only but to take her leave of me,
My VVife is coming.
Win.
VVho coming? your VVife?
Y. Tho.
No, no, thou art here: the woman; I knew
Not how to call her now: but after this day
She shall be quite forgot, and have no name
In my remembrance. See, see, she's come.
Enter Susan.
Go lead the horses to the hills top, there I'll meet thee.
Sus.
Nay, with your favour, let him stay a little.
I would part with him too, because he is
Your sole Companion; and I'll begin with him,
Reserving you the last.
Y. Thor.
I, with all my heart.
Sus.
You may hear, if it please you, Sir.
Y. Thor.
No, 'tis not fit.
Some rudiments, I conceive, they must be,
To overlook my slippery footings. And so.
Sus.
No, indeed, Sir.
Y. Thor.
Tush, I know it must be so, and 'tis necessary.
On, but be brief.
Win.
VVhat charge so 'ere you lay upon me, Mistress,
I shall support it faithfully (being honest)
To my best strength.
Sus.
Believe 't shall be no other. I know you were
Commended to my husband by a noble Knight.
Win.
Oh Gods! Oh, mine eyes!
Sus.
How now? what ailst thou, Lad?
Win.
Something hit mine eye, it makes it water still,
Even as you said, Commended to my Husband.
Some door I think it was. I was, forsooth,
Commended to him by Sir Arthur Clarington.
Sus.
VVhose Servant once my Thorney was himself.
Or at the least much more then a Servant;
And I am sure he will respect you so.
Your love to him then needs no spur for me,
And what for my sake you will ever do;
'Tis fit it should be bought with something more
Then fair entreats. Look here's a Jewel for thee,
A pretty wanton Label for thine ear;
And I would have it hang there, still to whisper
These words to thee, Thou hast my Jewel with thee.
It is but earnest of a larger bounty,
VVhen thou returnst, with praises of thy service,
VVhich I am confident thou wilt deserve.
VVhy, thou art many now, besides thy self:
Thou maist be Servant, Friend, and VVife to him.
A good VVife is then all. A Friend can play
The VVife and Servants part, and shift enough.
No less the Servant can the Friend and Wife.
'Tis all but sweet society, good counsel,
Enterchang'd loves; yes, and counsel-keeping.
Y. Thor.
Not done yet?
Sus.
Even now, Sir.
Win.
Mistress, believe my vow, your severe eye
VVere it present to command; your bounteous hand,
VVere it then by to buy or bribe my service,
Shall not make me more dear or neer unto him,
Then I shall voluntary. I'll be all your charge,
Servant, Friend, VVife to him.
Sus.
VVilt thou?
Now blessings go with thee for't: courtesies
Shall meet thee coming home.
Win.
Pray you say plainly, Mistress,
Are you jealous of him? if you be,
I'll look to him that way too.
Sus.
Sayst thou so?
I would thou hadst a womans bosom now.
VVe have weak thoughts within us. Alas,
There's nothing so strong in us as suspicion:
But I dare not, nay, I will not think
So hardly of my Thorney.
Win.
Believe it, Mistress,
Any loose lubrick scapes in him, I'll watch him,
And at my return, protest I'll shew you all.
He shall hardly offend without my knowledge.
Sus.
Thine own diligence is that I press,
And not the curious eye over his faults.
Farewel: if I should never see thee more,
Take it for ever.
Y. Thor.
Prithee take that along with thee,
Gives his sword.
And haste thee to the hills top; I'll be there instantly.
Ex. Win.
Sus.
No haste I prithee, slowly as thou canst.
Pray let him obey me now: 'tis happily his last
Service to me. My power is e'en a going out of sight.
Y. Thor.
Why would you delay? we have no other
Business now but to part.
Sus.
And will not that, sweet heart, ask a long time?
Methinks it is the hardest piece of work
That e're I took in hand.
Y. Thor.
Fie, fie, why look,
I'll make it plain and easie to you: Farewel.
Kisses.
Sus.
Ah, 'las! I am not half perfect in it yet.
I must have it read over an hundred times.
Pray you take some pains, I confess my dulness.
Y. Thor.
What a Thorne this Rose grows on? parting were sweet
But what a trouble 'twill be to obtain it?
Come, again and again, farewel. Yet wilt return?
Kisses.
All questions of my journey, my stay, imployment,
And revisitation, fully I have answered all.
There's nothing now behinde, but nothing.
Sus.
And that nothing is more hard then any thing,
Then all the every things. This Request.
Y. Thor.
What is it?
Sus.
That I may bring you through one pasture more
Up to yon knot of trees: amongst those shadows
I'll vanish from you, they shall teach me how.
Y. Thor.
VVhy, 'tis granted: come, walk then.
Sus.
Nay, not too fast.
They say slow things have best perfection:
The gentle showre wets to fertility.
The baser beasts take strength, even from the womb:
But the Lord Lion's whelp is feeble long.
Exeunt.
Enter Dog.
Dog.
Now for an early mischief and a sudden:
The minde's about it now. One touch from me
Soon sets the body forward.
Enter Young Thorney, Susan.
Y. Thor.
Your request is out: yet will you leave me?
Sus.
VVhat? so churlishly? you'll make me stay for ever,
Rather then part with such a sound from you.
Y. Thor.
VVhy you almost anger me. Pray you be gone.
You have no company, and 'tis very early;
Some hurt may betide you homewards.
Sus.
Tush, I fear none.
To leave you, is the greatest hurt I can suffer:
Besides, I expect your Father and mine own,
To meet me back, or overtake me with you.
They began to stir when I came after you:
I know they'll not be long.
Y. Thor.
So, I shall have more trouble.
[Dog rubs him.
Thank you for that. Then I'll ease all at once.
'Tis done now: what I ne'er thought on. You shall not go back.
Sus.
VVhy? shall I go along with thee? sweet musick!
Y. Thor.
No, to a better place.
Sus.
Any place, I:
I'm there at home, where thou pleasest to have me.
Y. Thor.
At home? I'll leave you in your last lodging.
I must kill you.
Sus.
Oh fine! you'ld fright me from you.
Y. Thor.
You see I had no purpose: I'm unarm'd. 'Tis this
minutes decree, and it must be. Look, this will serve your turn.
Sus.
I'll not turn from it, if you be earst, Sir. Yet you may toll
me wherefore you'll kill me.
Y. Thor.
Because you are a whore.
Sus.
There's one deep wound already: a whore?
'Twas ever further from me then the thought
Of this black hour: a whore?
Y. Thor.
Yes, I'll prove it,
And you shall confess it. You are my whore,
No wife of mine. The word admits no second.
I was before wedded to another, have her still.
'Tis all mine own. Your marriage was my theft.
For I espous'd your dowry, and I have it:
I did not purpose to have added murther;
The Devil did not prompt me: till this minute
You might have safe returned; now you cannot:
You have dogg'd your own death.
[Stabs her.
Sus.
And I deserve it.
I'm glad my fate was so intelligent.
'Twas some good Spirits motion. Die? Oh, 'twas time!
How many yeers might I have slept in sin?
Sin of my most hatred too, Adultery?
Y. Thor.
Nay, sure 'twas likely that the most was past;
For I meant never to return to you
After this parting.
Sus.
Why then I thank you more,
You have done lovingly, leaving your self,
That you would thus bestow me on another.
Thou art my Husband, Death, and I embrace thee
With all the love I have. Forget the stain
Of my unwitting sin: and then I come
A Chrystal Virgin to thee. My Soul's purity
Shall with bold Wings ascend the Doors of Mercy;
For Innocence is ever her Companion.
Y. Thor.
Not yet mortal? I would not linger you,
Or leave you a tongue to blab.
Sus.
Now heaven reward you ne'er the worse for me.
I did not think that death had been so sweet;
Nor I so apt to love him. I could ne'er die better,
Had I staid forty yeers for preparation:
For I'm in charity with all the VVorld.
Let me for once be thine example, Heaven;
Do to this man as I him free forgive.
And may he better die, and better live.
Moritur.
Y. Tho.
'Tis done; and I am in: once past our height,
We scorn the deepst Abyss. This follows now,
To heal her VVounds by dressing of the VVeapon:
Arms, thighs, hands, any place; we must not fail,
[Wounds himself.
Light scratches giving such deep ones. The best I can
Which if blown o're, many fair days may follow.
[Dog ties him.
So, so, I'm fast; I did not think I could
Have done so well behinde me. How prosperous
And effectual mischief sometimes is? Help, help;
Murther, murther, murther.
Enter Carter, and Old Thorney.
Cart.
Ha! VVhom tolls the Bell for?
Y. Thor.
Oh, oh!
O. Thor.
Ah me! the cause appears too soon: my Child, my Son.
Cart.
Susan, Girl, Child. Not speak to thy Father? Hah!
Y. Tho.
O lend me some assistance to o'retake this hapless woman.
O. Thor.
Let's o'retake the murtherers. Speak whilst thou canst;
anon may be too late. I fear thou hast deaths mark upon thee too.
Y. Thor.
I know them both; yet such an Oath is pass'd,
As pulls damnation up if it be broke;
I dare not name 'em: think what forc'd men do.
O. Thor.
Keep oath with murtherers? that were a conscience
to hold the Devil in.
Y. Thor.
Nay, Sir, I can describe 'em;
Shall shew them as familiar as their names.
The Taller of the two at this time wears
His Satten-doublet white, but Crimson lin'd;
Hose of black Satten, Cloak of Scarlet.
O. Thor.
Warbeck, Warbeck, Warbeck: Do you list to this, Sir?
Cart.
Yes, yes, I listen you: here's nothing to be heard.
Y. Thor.
Th'others Cloak branch'd Velvet black, Velvet lin'd his Suit.
O. Thor.
I have 'em already: Somerton, Somerton.
Binal revenge, all this. Come, Sir, the first work
Is to pursue the Murtherers, when we have remov'd
These mangled bodies hence.
Cart.
Sir, take that Carcase there, and give me this.
I'll not own her now; she's none of mine.
Bob me off with a dumb shew? No, I'll have life.
This is my Son too, and while there's life in him,
'Tis half mine; take you halfe that silence for 't.
VVhen I speak, I look to be spoken to: forgetful Slut?
O. Thor.
Alas! what grief may do now?
Cart.
I, do, and I'll have this. How do you, Sir?
Y. Thor.
O, very ill, Sir.
Cart.
Yes, I think so; but 'tis well you can speak yet.
There's no musick but in sound, sound it must be.
I have not wept these twenty yeers before,
And that I guess was e're that Girl was born:
Yet now methinks, if I but knew the way,
My heart's so sull, I could weep night and day.
Exeunt.
Enter Sir Arthur Clarington, Warbeck, Somerton.
Sir Art.
Come, Gentlemen, we must all help to grace
The nimble-footed youth of Edmonton, that are so kinde
To call us up to day with an high Morrice.
Warb.
I could wish it for the best, it were the worst now.
Absurditie's in my opinion ever the best Dancer in a Morrice.
Som.
I could rather sleep then see 'em.
Sir Art.
Not well, Sir?
Som.
Faith not ever thus leaden; yet I know no cause for 't.
Warb.
Now am I beyond mine own condition highly dispos'd
to mirth.
Sir Art.
Well, you may have yet a Morrice to help both;
To strike you in a dump, and make him merry.
Enter Fidler and Morrice; all but Banks.
Fidl.
Come, will you set your selves in Morrice-ray? the fore-Bell,
second Bell, Tenor and great Bell; Maid-marion for the same Bell.
But where's the Weather-cock now? the Hobby-horse?
1.
Is not Banks come yet? What a spight 'tis?
Sir Art.
When set you forward, Gentlemen?
1.
VVe stay but for the Hobby-horse, Sir: all our Footmen
are ready.
Som.
'Tis marvel your Horse should be behinde your Foot.
2.
Yes, Sir: he goes further about: we can come in at the
VVicker, but the broad Gate must be opened for him.
Enter Banks, Hobby-horse and Dog.
Sir Art.
Oh, we staid for you, Sir.
Clow.
Onely my Horse wanted a Shooe, Sir: but we shall make
you amends e're we part.
Sir Art.
I? well said, make 'em drink e're they begin.
[Ent. serv. with beer.
Clow.
A bowl, I prithee, and a little for my Horse,
not pledge else. Here Hobby. [Holds him the bowl.]
I pray you:
No? not drink? You see; Gentlemen, we can but bring our
horse to the VVater; he may chuse whether he'll drink or no.
Som.
A good Moral made plain by History.
1.
Strike up, Father Sawgut, strike up.
Fidl.
E'en when you will, Children. Now in the name of the
best foot forward. How now? not a word in thy Guts? I
think, Children, my Instrument has caught cold on the sudden.
Clow.
My Ningle's knavery: black Tom's doing.
Omn.
Why what mean you, Father Sawgus?
Clow.
Why what would you have him do? You hear his Fiddle
is speechless.
Fidl.
I'll lay mine Ear to my Instrument, that my poor Fiddle is
bewitch'd. I play'd The Flowers in May
, e'en now, as sweet as a
Violet; now 'twill not go against the hair: you see I can make no
more Musick then a Beetle of a Cow-turd.
Clow.
Let me see, Father Sawgut, say, once you had a brave Hobby-horse,
that you were beholding to. I'll play and dance too.
Ningle, away with it.
[Dog plays the Morrice; which ended, enter a Constable and Officers.
Omn.
I marry, Sir!
Const.
Away with jollity, 'tis too sad an hour.
Sir Arthur Clarington, your own assistance,
In the Kings Name, I charge, for apprehension
Of these two Murderers, Warbeck and Somerton.
Sir Art.
Ha! flat Murtherers?
Som.
Ha, ha, ha, this has awakened my melancholy.
Warb.
And struck my mirth down flat. Murtherers?
Const.
The accusation is flat against you, Gentlemen.
Sir, you may be satisfied with this. I hope
You'll quietly obey my power;
'Twill make your cause the fairer.
Ambo.
Oh! with all our hearts, Sir.
Clow.
There's my Rival taken up for Hang-man's meat. Tom
told me he was about a piece of Villany. Mates and Morricemen,
you see here's no longer piping, no longer dancing. This
news of Murder has slain the Morrice. You that go the footway,
Exe.
Fidl.
[Strikes his Fiddle.]
I? Nay and my Fiddle he come to
himself again, I care not. I think the Devil has been abroad
amongst us to day. I'll keep thee out of thy fit now if I can.
Exe.
Sir Art.
These things are full of horror, full of pity.
But if this time be constant to the proof,
The guilt of both these Gentlemen I dare take
Upon mine own danger; yet howsoever, Sir,
Your power must be obey'd.
Warb.
Oh most willingly, Sir.
'Tis a most sweet affliction. I could not meet
A joy in the best shape with better will.
Come, fear not, Sir; nor Judge, nor Evidence,
Can binde him o're, who's freed by conscience.
Som.
Mine stands so upright to the middle Zone,
It takes no shadow to't, it goes alone.
Exeunt.
| The Witch of Edmonton | |