 | The Witch of Edmonton |  |
Act. V.
Scæn. 1.
Enter Mother Sawyer alone.Sawy.
Still wrong'd by every Slave? and not a Dog
Bark in his Dames defence? I am call'd Witch,
Yet am my self bewitched from doing harm.
Have I given up my self to thy black lust
Thus to be scorn'd? not see me in three days?
I'm lost without my Tomalin: prithee come,
Revenge to me is sweeter far then life;
Thou art my Raven, on whose cole-black wings
Revenge comes flying to me: O my best love!
I am on fire, (even in the midst of Ice)
Raking my blood up, till my shrunk knees feel
Thy curl'd head leaning on them. Come then, my Darling,
If in the Aire thou hover'st, fall upon me
In some dark Cloud; and as I oft have seen
Dragons and Serpents in the Elements,
Appear thou now so to me. Art thou i'th' Sea?
Muster up all the Monsters from the deep,
And be the ugliest of them: so that my bulch
Shew but his swarth cheek to me, let earth cleave,
And break from Hell, I care not: could I run
Like a swift Powder-Mine beneath the world,
Up would I blow it, all to finde out thee,
Though I lay ruin'd in it. Not yet come!
I must then fall to my old Prayer:
Sanctibiceter nomem tuum.
Not yet come! worrying of Wolves, biting of mad Dogs, the
Manges and the—
Enter Dog.
Dog.
How now! whom art thou cursing?
Sawy.
Thee. Ha! No, 'tis my black Cur I am cursing, for not
attending on me.
I am that Cur.
Sawy.
Thou liest: hence, come not nigh me.
Dog.
Baugh, waugh.
Sawy.
VVhy dost thou thus appear to me in white, as if thou
wert the Ghost of my dear love?
Dog.
I am dogged, list not to tell thee, yet to torment thee:
my whiteness puts thee in minde of thy winding Sweet.
Sawy.
Am I near death?
Dog.
Yes, if the Dog of Hell be near thee. VVhen the Devil
comes to thee as a Lamb, have at thy Throat.
Sawy.
Off, Cur.
Dog.
He has the back of a Sheep, but the belly of an Otter: devours
by Sea and Land. VVhy am I in white? didst thou not pray
to me?
Sawy.
Yes, thou dissembling Hell-hound: why now in white
more then at other times?
Dog.
Be blasted with the News; whiteness is days Foot-boy, a
forerunner to light, which shews thy old rivel'd face: Villaines are
strip't naked, the Witch must be beaten out of her Cock-pit.
Sawy.
Must she? she shall not; thou art a lying Spirit:
Why to mine eyes art thou a Flag of truce?
I am at peace with none; 'tis the black colour
Or none, which I fight under: I do not like
Thy puritan-paleness: glowing Furnaces
Are far more hot then they which flame outright.
If thou my old Dog art, go and bite such as I shall set thee on.
Dog.
I will not.
Sawy.
I'll sell my self to twenty thousand Fiends, to have thee
torn in pieces then.
Dog.
Thou canst not: thou art so ripe to fall into Hell, that no
more of my Kennel will so much as bark at him that hangs thee.
Sawy.
I shall run mad.
Dog.
Do so, thy time is come, to curse, and rave and die.
The Glass of thy sins is full, and it must run out at Gallows.
Sawy.
It cannot, ugly Cur, I'll confess nothing;
And not confessing, who dare come and swear
I have bewitched them? I'll not confess one mouthful.
Dog.
Chuse, and be hang'd or burn'd.
Spight of the Devil and thee, I'll muzzle up my Tongue
from telling Tales.
Dog.
Spight of thee and the Devil, thou'lt be condemn'd.
Sawy.
Yes, when?
Dog.
And ere the Executioner catch thee full in's Claws, thou'lt
confess all.
Sawy.
Out Dog!
Dog.
Out Witch! Thy tryal is at hand:
Our prey being had, the Devil does laughing stand.
The Dog stands aloof. Enter Old Banks, Ratchiff, and Countrymen.
O. Bank.
She's here; attach her: Witch, you must go with us.
Sawy.
Whither? to Hell?
O. Bank.
No, no, no, old Crone; your Mittimus shall be made
thither, but your own Jaylors shall receive you. Away with her.
Sawy.
My Tommie! my sweet Tom-boy! O thou Dog! dost
thou now fly to thy Kennel and forsake me? Plagues and Consumptions—
Exeunt.
Dog.
Ha, ha, ha, ha!
Let not the World, VVitches or Devils condemn,
They follow us, and then we follow them.
[Young Banks to the Dog.]
Clown.
I would fain meet with mine Ingle once more; he has had
a Claw amongst 'um: my Rival that lov'd my VVench, is like to be
hang'd like an innocent, a kinde Cur, where he takes; but where he
takes not, a dogged Rascal. I know the Villaine loves me: no.
[Barks.]
Art thou there? that's Toms voice, but 'tis not he;
this is a Dog of another hair: this? bark and not speak to me? not
Tom then: there's as much difference betwixt Tom and this, as betwixt
white and black.
Dog.
Hast thou forgot me?
Clown.
That's Tom again: prithee Ningle speak, is thy name Tom?
Dog.
VVhilst I serv'd my old Dame Sawyer, 'twas: I'm gone
from her now.
Dog.
Gone? away with the VVitch then too: shee'll never
thrive if thou leav'st her; she knows no more how to kill a Cow,
or a Horse, or a Sow, without thee, then she does to kill a Goose.
Dog.
No, she has done killing now, but must be kill'd for what
she has done: she's shortly to be hang'd.
Clown.
Is she? in my conscience if she be, 'tis thou hast brought
her to the Gallows, Tom.
Right: I serv'd her to that purpose, 'twas part of my
VVages.
Clown.
This was no honest Servants part, by your leave Tom:
this remember, I pray you, between you and I; I entertain'd you
ever as a Dog, not as a Devil.
Dog.
True; and so I us'd thee doggedly, not divellishly.
I have deluded thee for sport to laugh at.
The VVench thou seek'st after, thou never spakest with,
But a Spirit in her form, habit and likeness. Ha, ha!
Clown.
I do not then wonder at the change of your garments, if
you can enter into shapes of VVomen too.
Dog.
Any shape, to blind such silly eyes as thine; but chiefly
those course Creatures, Dog or Cat, Hare, Ferret, Frog, Toad.
Clown.
Louse or Flea?
Dog.
Any poor Vermine.
Clown.
It seems you Devils have poor thin souls, that you can
bestow your selves in such small bodies: but pray you Tom, one
question at parting, I think I shall never see you more; where do
you borrow those Bodies that are none of your own? the garment-shape
you may hire at Brokers.
Dog.
VVhy wouldst thou know that? fool, it availes thee not.
Clown.
Onely for my mindes sake, Tom, and to tell some of my
Friends.
Dog.
I'll thus much tell thee: Thou never art so distant
From an evil Spirit, but that thy Oaths,
Curses and Blasphemies pull him to thine Elbow:
Thou never telst a lie, but that a Devil
Is within hearing it; thy evil purposes
Are ever haunted; but when they come to act,
As thy Tongue slaundering, bearing false witness.
Thy hand stabbing, stealing, cozening, cheating,
He's then within thee: thou play'st, he bets upon thy part;
Although thou lose, yet he will gaine by thee.
Clown.
I? then he comes in the shape of a Rook.
Dog.
The old Cadaver of some selfe-strangled wretch
VVe sometimes borrow, and appear humane.
The Carcase of some disease-slain strumpet,
VVe varnish fresh, and wear as her first Beauty.
An hot luxurious Leacher in his Twines,
When he has thought to clip his Dalliance,
There has provided been for his embrace
A fine hot flaming Devil in her place.
Clow.
Yes, I am partly a witness to this, but I never could embrace
her: I thank thee for that, Tom; well, againe I thank thee,
Tom, for all this counsel, without a Fee too; there's few Lawyers
of thy minde now: certainly Tom, I begin to pity thee.
Dog.
Pity me? for what?
Clow.
Were it not possible for thee to become an honest Dog
yet? 'tis a base life that you lead, Tom, to serve VVitches, to kill
innocent Children, to kill harmless Cattle, to stroy Corn and Fruit,
&c. 'twere better yet to be a Butcher, and kill for your self.
Dog.
VVhy? these are all my delights, my pleasures, fool.
Clow.
Or Tom, if you could give your minde to ducking, I know
you can swim, fetch and carry, some Shop-keeper in London would
take great delight in you, and be a tender master over you: or if
you have a mind to the Game, either at Bull or Bear, I think I could
prefer you to Mal-Cutpurse.
Dog.
Ha, ha! I should kill all the Game, Bulls, Bears, Dogs,
and all, not a Cub to be left.
Clow.
You could do, Tom, but you must play fair, you should be
stav'd off else: or if your stomach did better like to serve in some
Noble Mans, Knights or Gentlemans Kitchin, if you could brook
the wheel, and turn the spit, your labour could not be much; when
they have Rost-meat, that's but once or twice in the week at
most, here you might lick you own Toes very well: Or if you
could translate your self into a Ladies Arming-puppy, there you
might lick sweet lips, and do many pretty Offices; but to creep under
an old VVitches Coats, and suck like a great Puppy, Fie upon't!
I have heard beastly things of you, Tom.
Dog.
Ha, ha! The worse thou heardst of me, the better 'tis.
Shall I serve thee, Fool, at the self-same rate?
Clow.
No, I'll see thee hang'd, thou shalt be damn'd first; I know
thy qualities too well, Ile give no suck to such VVhelps; therefore
henceforth I defie thee; out and avaunt.
Dog.
Nor will I serve for such a silly Soul.
There I'll shug in, and get a noble countenance:
Serve some Briarean Footcloth-strider,
That has an hundred hands to catch at Bribes,
But not a Fingers nayl of Charity.
Such, like the Dragons Tayl, shall pull down hundreds
To drop and sink with him: I'll stretch my self,
And draw this Bulk small as a Silver-wire,
Enter at the least pore Tobacco fume
Can make a breach for: hence silly fool,
I scorn to prey on such an Atome soul.
Clow.
Come out, come out, you Cur; I will beat thee out of the
bounds of Edmonton, and to morrow we go in Procession, and after
thou shalt never come in againe: if thou goest to London, I'll
make thee go about by Tiburn, stealing in by Theeving Lane: if thou
canst rub thy Shoulder against a Lawyers Gown, as thou passest by
Westminster-Hall, do; if not, to the Stayers amongst the Bandogs, take
water, and the Devil go with thee.
Exeunt Y. Banks, Dog barking.
Enter Justice, Sir Arthur, Warbeck, Carter, Kate.
Just.
Sir Arthur, though the Bench hath mildly censur'd your
Errours, yet you have indeed been the Instrument that wrought all
their mis-fortunes: I would wish you pay'd down your Fine speedily
and willingly.
Sir Art.
I'll need no urging to it.
Cart.
If you should, 'twere a shame to you; for if I should speak
my conscience, you are worthier to be hang'd of the two, all things
considered; and now make what you can of it: but I am glad these
Gentlemen are freed.
Warb.
We knew our innocence.
Som.
And therefore fear'd it not.
Kat.
But I am glad that I have you safe.
Noise within.
Just.
How now! what noyse is that?
Cart.
Young Frank is going the wrong way: Alas, poor youth!
now I begin to pity him.
Enter Y. Thorney and Holberts. Enter as to see the Execution. O. Carter, O. Thorney, Katharine, Winnifride weeping.
O. Thor.
Here let our sorrows wait him: to press neerer
The place of his sad death, some apprehensions
Daughter, be comforted.
Win.
Comfort and I
Are too far separated to be joyn'd
But in eternity. I share too much of him that's going thither.
Cart.
Poor woman, 'twas not thy fault: I grieve to see
Thee weep for him that hath my pity too.
Win.
My fault was lust, my punishment was shame;
Yet I am happy that my soul is free
Both from consent, fore-knowledge and intent
Of any Murther, but of mine own Honour.
Restor'd again by a fair satisfaction, and since not to be wounded.
O. Thor.
Daughter, grieve not for what necessity forceth; rather
resolve to conquer it with patience. Alas, she faints!
Win.
My griefes are strong upon me: my weakness scarce can bear
them.
Away with her! hang her, Witch!
Enter Sawyer to Execution, Officers with Holberts, country-people.
Cart.
The Witch, that instrument of mischief! did not she
witch the Devil into my Son-in-law, when he kill'd my poor
Daughter? do you hear, Mother Sawyer?
Sawy.
What would you have? cannot a poor old woman have
your leave to die without vexation?
Cart.
Did not you bewitch Frank to kill his wife? he could never
have don't without the Devil.
Sawy.
Who doubts it? but is every Devil mine?
VVould I had one now whom I might command
To tear you all in pieces: Tom would have don't before he left
me.
Cart.
Thou did'st bewitch Anne Ratcliff to kill her self.
Sawy.
Churl, thou ly'st; I never did her hurt: would you were
all as neer your ends as I am, that gave evidence against me for
it.
Countr.
I'll be sworn, Mr. Carter, she bewitched Gammer Warbowls
Sow, to cast her Pigs a day before she would have farried; yet
they were sent up to London, and sold for as good Westminster Dog-Pigs,
at Bartholomew Fair, as ever great belly'd Ale-wife longed
for.
Sawy.
These Dogs will mad me: I was well resolv'd
I would live longer if I might; yet sluce
I cannot, pray torment me not; my conscience
Is setled as it shall be: all take heed
How they believe the Devil, at last hee'l cheat you.
Cart.
Th'adst best confess all truly.
Sawy.
Yet again?
Have I scarce breath enough to say my Prayers?
And would you force me to spend that in bawling?
Bear witness, I repent all former evil;
There is no damned Conjurer like the Devil.
Omn.
Away with her, away!
Enter Frank to Execution, Officers, Justice, Sir Arthur, Warbeck, Somerton.
O. Thor.
Here's the sad Object which I yet must meet
VVith hope of comfort, if a repentant end
Make him more happy then mis-fortune would
Suffer him here to be.
Frank.
Good Sirs, turn from me:
You will revive affliction almost kil'd
With my continual sorrow.
O Thor.
O Frank, Frank!
VVould I had sunk in mine own wants, or died
But one bare minute ere thy fault was acted.
Frank.
To look upon your sorrows, executes me before my Execution.
Win.
Let me pray you, Sir.
Frank.
Thou much wrong'd woman, I must sigh for thee,
As he that's onely loath to leave the World,
For that he leaves thee in it unprovided,
Unfriended; and for me to beg a pity
From any man to thee when I am gone,
Is more then I can hope; nor to say truth,
Have I deserv'd it: but there is a payment
Belongs to goodness from the great Exchequer
Above, it will not fail thee, Winnifride;
Be that thy comfort.
O. Thor.
Let it be thine too,
Untimely lost young man.
Frank.
He is not lost,
VVho bears his peace within him: had I spun
My VVeb of life out at full length, and dream'd
Away my many years in lusts, in surfeits,
Commended or approv'd; then though I had
Died easily, as great and rich men do,
Upon my own Bed, not compell'd by Justice,
You might have mourn'd for me indeed; my miseries
Had been as everlasting, as remediless:
But now the Law hath not arraign'd, condemn'd
VVith greater rigour my unhappy Fact,
Then I my self have every little sin
My memory can reckon from my Child-hood:
A Court hath been kept here, where I am found
Guilty; the difference is, my impartial Judge
Is much more gracious then my Faults
Are monstrous to be nam'd; yet they are monstrous.
O. Thor.
Here's comfort in this penitence.
Win.
It speaks
How truly you are reconcil'd, and quickens
My dying comfort, that was neer expiring
With my last breath: now this Repentance makes thee
As white as innocence; and my first sin with thee,
Since which I knew none like it, by my sorrow,
Is clearly cancell'd: might our Souls together
Climb to the height of their eternity,
And there enjoy what earth denied us, Happiness:
But since I must survive, and be the monument
Of thy lov'd memory, I will preserve it
VVith a Religious care, and pay thy ashes
A VVidows duty, calling that end best,
VVhich though it stain the name, makes the soul blest
Frank.
Give me thy hand, poor woman; do not weep:
Farewel. Thou dost forgive me?
Win.
'Tis my part
To use that Language
Frank.
Oh that my Example
Might teach the VVorld hereafter what a curse
Hangs on their heads, who rather chuse to marry
A goodly Portion, then a Dowr of Vertues!
Are you there, Gentlemen? there is not one
Amongst you whom I have not wrong'd: you most;
rob'd you of a Daughter; but she is
In Heaven; and I must suffer for it willingly.
I, I, she's in Heaven, and I am glad to see
Thee so well prepared to follow her:
I forgive thee with all my heart; if thou
Had'st not had ill counsel, thou would'st not have
Done as thou didst: the more shame for them.
Som.
Spare your excuse to me, I do conceive
What you would speak: I would you could as easily
Make satisfaction to the Law, as to my wrongs.
I am sorry for you.
Warb.
And so am I, and heartily forgive you.
Kate.
I will pray for you, for her sake, who, I am sure, did love
you dearly.
Sir Art.
Let us part friendly too: I am asham'd of my part in
thy wrongs.
Frank.
You are all merciful, and send me to my Grave in peace.
Sir Arthur, Heavens send you a new heart. Lastly to you, Sir; and
though I have deserv'd not to be call'd your Son, yet give me leave
upon my knees, to beg a blessing.
O. Thor.
Take it: let me wet thy Cheeks with the last
Tears my griefs have left me. O Frank, Frank, Frank!
Frank.
Let me beseech you, Gentlemen, to
Comfort my old Father; keep him with yee;
Love this distressed VVidow; and as often
As you remember what a graceless man
I was, remember likewise that these are
Both free, both worthy of a better Fate,
Then such a Son or Husband as I have been.
All help me with your prayers. On, on, 'tis just
That Law should purge the guilt of blood and lust.
Exit.
Cart.
Go thy ways: I did not think to have shed one tear for
thee, but thou hast made me water my plants spight of my heart.
M. Thorney, chear up, man; whilst I can stand by you, you shall not
want help to keep you from falling. We have lost our Children
both on's the wrong way, but we cannot help it: better or worse;
'tis now as 'tis.
O. Thor.
I thank you, Sir, you are more kinde then I have cause
to hope or look for.
Cart.
Mr. Somerton, is Kate yours or no?
We are agreed.
Kat.
And, but my Faith is pass'd, I should fear to bemarried
Husbands are so cruelly unkind: excuse me that I am thus troubled.
Som.
Thou shalt have no cause.
Cart.
Take comfort Mistris Winnifride. Sir Arthur,
For his abuse to you, and to your Husband,
Is by the Bench enjoyn'd to pay you down
A thousand Marks.
Sir Art.
Which I will soon discharge.
Win.
Sir, 'tis too great a sum to be imploy'd upon my Funeral.
Cart.
Come, come, if luck had serv'd, Sir Arthur, and every man
had his due, somebody might have totter'd ere this, without paying
Fines: like it as you list. Come to me Winnifride, shalt be wel
come: make much of her, Kate, I charge you: I do not think but
she's a good Wench, and hath has wrong as well as we. So let
every man home to Edmonton with heavy hearts, yet as merry as
we can, though not as we would.
Just.
Joyn Friends in sorrow; make of all the best:
Harms past may be lamented, not redrest.
Exeunt
| The Witch of Edmonton | |