 | A Pleasant and VVitty Comedy : Called, A New Tricke to Cheat the Divell |  |
Actus Quintus
Scæne. 1.
Enter Lord, Changables Wife, and Geffrey.Wi.
But was he so perverse and peremptory?
Lo.
He brav'd necessity, and outfac'd want,
And tooke my proffer'd largesse in such scorne,
As he had bin some great Kings Treasurer;
My bounty he defy'd with shaking pockets,
The noise whereof deafned and seem'd to drowne
The sound of my despised Charity;
Some pieces I would willingly have given.
Wi.
Which would he not receive?
Lo.
Meerely refus'd,
And with a haughty and contemplative smile,
Instead of gratefull thankes, proudly demanded if I would
Sell my Lordship.
Wi.
Did you suffer it?
Lo.
While I could limit patience I forbore,
To chastise him with an ungentle hand;
But when I found no bounds in his distast,
But that it still exceeded Law and compasse,
I thought to chastise his ingratitude;
And did it with my Sword.
Wi.
'Twas bravely done.
Gef.
I thinke we made him fly, for I am sure some there
Gave shamefull ground.
Wi.
But leaving that,
Doe you not finde her comming?
Lo.
Affible, as any courteous maid alive can be,
To whom I did discover these proceedings,
Which she seem'd well to relish.
Wi.
Doubt not then, all will be to our wishes;
One thing onely, which sadds me when I thinke of't.
Lo.
Pray what's that?
Wi.
To thinke my house should be so strangely troubled
In dead of Night.
Lo.
It is prodigious sure.
Wi.
And that I feare it is my Mothers Spirit,
Who for some unknowne causes restlesse walkes,
As one not sleeping in her quiet grave;
'Tis this that moves me deepely.
Lo.
I have sent
To one Frier Bernand, a Religious man,
And Tutor to Frier Iohn, to learne from him the depth of
This concealement; and see, in happy time
Treatwell's return'd
Ent Treatwell.
Tre.
Sir, I had conference with him.
Lo.
Will he do't?
Tre.
By no entreaty or perswasive skill,
Nay were he press'd by menace or command,
He vowes to have no hand in these designes;
I could not make him thinke such things can be;
He counts them meere impostures, falacyes,
Or, let a man receive them at the best,
Illusions of the Divell; that Ghosts walke
He saith directly 'tis impossible,
And in that faith he'le dye; further discourse
I could by no meanes get him listen to, but halfe displeas'd he left me.
Wi.
That's his faith, but we are froc'd to credit
Otherwise by lamentable proofe.
Ent. M. Changeable.
Gef.
Here comes your husband, he hath perhaps some newes
Chan.
I have bin labouring, toyling and moyling,
To finde the cause of this so strange distemperature,
Question'd Divines, and talkt with cunning men,
With Fortune-tellers, skill'd in Palmistry,
Not a tain'd Gipsey can escape my search, but I with such
Have Trafficke.
Wi.
And what comfort?
Chan.
Troth small, or none yet, most in this conclude,
That pretend Iudgement; that till we finde some one
And in the dead of darkenesse question it,
Why, to what end, and for what cause it walkes,
The Vision shall continue: this they said,
But none amongst them all so resolute as to
Attempt th'adventure.
Lo.
Then 'tis desperate?
Chan.
Not so; for comming from the Friery late,
I met a man by chance that cross'd my way,
Whom rather too much spirit had possess'd,
Or too much folly made meere desperate;
Would willingly attempt it, and indeed
He did intreat it of me as a Suite.
Lo.
What reason mov'd him to't?
Chan.
Because he's mad:
For who of understanding, or of sence,
Would willingly confront great Belzebub,
Perhaps despaire, distraction, discontent
Or fury hath possest him; be't what will,
VVhat's that to us? his is the certaine danger,
Ours the assured gaine.
Lo.
What might he be?
Chan.
One like enough, were Hurcules alive,
With him in Thesius stead to enter Hell;
A mad companion whom you all well know,
One that was once a Suter to my Daughter.
Wi.
Not Slightall?
Ch.
He.
Lo.
My Rivall?
Ch.
Even the same.
Wi.
Of all men living I am loath that he should lodge
Beneath my Roofe; were there none such he'de play the
Divell himselfe.
Chan.
But wee have those
Within, can tame him were he twice so wild.
Lo.
But he to be receiv'd? of all men living
I doe not love that fellow.
Chan.
See your errour,
What better way, more secret, and more safe
Can we devise to be reveng'd, than this?
To have him peece-meale torne by Haggs and Fiends;
He hath no prayer to arme him 'gainst their assault,
His Oathes will be assistant to their fury,
And further not repell it: You by this
Are from a Rivall freed; my daughter Nan,
From an importunate Suter, Begger too;
We all from a disturber, and a man
That wrong'd our common quiet.
Gef.
He sayes true sir,
And bid the Divell take him.
Wife.
A good riddance,
Tre.
I know not how you could dispose him better
And empty all your wishes.
Lo.
Well, I am pleas'd,
Employ your best discretions.
Chan.
But where's Nan?
Wo.
Sicke in her Chamber, where she keepes her Bed,
And dares not thence remove.
Chan.
The worse for her,
Yet for our purpose better, as it happes,
Because she shall not see him, nor he her;
Harke, there's one knocks, 'tis Slightall on my life;
Disperse I doe entreat, Ile answer him.
Within.
Sl.
Where's this Three-headed Dog that keeps Hell gates?
He knockes that faine would enter.
Ch.
'Tis the same,
I know him by his roaring.
Enter Slightall.
Sl.
If this, as many men give out, be Hell,
Shew me the Master? he that keepes the house:
Pluto that great grim sir.
Chan.
I am the Lord
Of this poore Mannour; now, I cannot tell
By what hard Fate distress'd.
Sl.
Oh, you keepe lodgings,
And as I understand, the Divell here hath late tooke up his Inne.
Chan.
My greater griefe sir.
Sl.
I would for one night be his Chamber-fellow,
Shall I have entertainment, good mine Host?
Chan.
I would not wish you sir.
Sl.
Wish me no wishes,
I am the Knight adventurer that would doe't:
One thing resolve me; hath the Divell your Guest
A Horse in the Stable?
Chan,
None sir, I assure you.
Sl.
Then make him pay for's Bed; it is the custome
Of every Inne through England.
Chan.
Sir, I know you,
And ever wish'd you to your hearts desire,
How well you may remember; if forgot,
In you 'tis errour, and no fault in me.
Sl.
Which love I thus have studied to requite,
To conjure hence your Divell; how appeares it?
In Feminine shape?
Chan.
Yes, like a womans sure.
Sl.
But not like Madam Proserpine your wife?
No shape else can affright me.
Chan.
I must confesse
A Divell of her tongue, but no way else sir.
Sl.
Shew me my Chamber.
Ch.
This.
Sl.
My lodging.
Ch.
There
Sl.
Command me two faire Tapers, that may last
Chan.
Instantly.
Sl
Those, my good sword, this Booke, and my bold heart
Are Guards sufficient 'gainst a thousand shadowes
Of no Corporeall essence capable.
Chan.
Here be your Lights.
Sl.
Some wine too, I entreat,
'Tis the best armour to a fainting soule,
And then no further trouble.
Chan.
It shall be done.
Sl.
Whom am I to encounter? singly too?
Without a second? spirits, or Fantasmes?
Ghosts being, or imaginary dreames?
Not in the comfortable day, and view
Of judging eyes, but in the solitude
Of melancholy darkanesse? Ile not thinke of't, before
I find the truth, or mockery.
Ent. with Wine, Chan.
Chan.
I have brought your Livery.
Sl.
Indeed I must thank
you for't? indeed I am your man; now, if you please,
Leave me to my adventure.
Chan.
Rest may your Body,
And peace possesse your thoughts.
Sl.
What e're betide me.
Good night to you: see the doores lockt and bolted,
That's all I shall enjoyne you; till we meete
A faire and prosperous Morning: did I know
What object I should meet with, I could then
Fit me unto the plunge accordingly,
And arme me for the Grapple; but of this
I nothing can conjecture: oh but that Parchment
By which I am oblig'd to pay a soule,
The memory of that is horrible,
And strikes me with affright: what can I ghesse,
But that this is my divells Stratagem,
To have his Serjeant death arrest me heere;
And beare me to that cursed Dungeon, Hell?
An Usurer would doe't; any fat Serjeant
That lookes as plumpe in cheekes as th'other leane;
Then why not these? their gaine's but petty trash,
But these the precious riches of a soule;
Yet in these Hell-hounds have I greater trust
Than in those Doggs of th'Earth, for I am sure
The Divell himselfe can be no Usurer,
He is so free of his purse; and hitherto
Hath lent his money gratis: Ile to Bed,
Nor yet at peace within; disquieted
With sudden feares, nor yet well reconcil'd:
Ile try if I can sleepe; and yet not so,
Lest I be taken napping; yet Ile throw me
Upon the Bed and reade.
Ent. Divells dauncing, with Fire wokes, and Crackers.
Hey, hey, the Divells daunce, sure Hell's broke loose?
And this is their Shrove Tuesday; hornes upon you,
And that's the Cuckolds curse; yet this was sport,
Though somewhat fearefull: had they proffer'd violence,
This should have thrash'd among them, but it seemes
These were no quarreling spirits; yet howsoe're,
I am glad they are gone: what object shall be next?
Musicke? yet this sounds sweeter than the first,
For that was all of discords.
Ent. two Maides with Banquet and Lights; after courtesies to him, they fetch in Anne, and place her at the Table against him.
What, in Hell are there white Divells, Angels are
These of Light, or but light Angels? Banquet too?
And Feast? the furies in the lower World
I thought till now had fed on hot meates all;
On parboyl'd Murtherers, Usurers roasted flesh,
Whores cheekes for dainties, Carbonado'd o're
Red sulphurous Gridions, and a thousand such:
But what's she enters now? to whom the rest
Doe such obeysance? place her in her State,
As if she were the Queene grim Pluto stole,
And great Alcides once redeem'd from Hell?
Be'st thou Ghost, shadow, Fuery, Fiend, or Hag,
Introth thou art a faire one; In Heavens name
What art thou? speake, do'st answer me in smiles?
Why do'st thou beckon me? point to those shadowes,
As were the meates essentiall! had I a stomacke,
With thee I durst not eate: do'st laugh at me?
Oh hadst thou but a substance to that presence
I'de dare on thee, wert thou th'infirnall Dam.
Temptation still? Ile thinke her what she seemes,
For no affright can lodge in her faire looke,
And venture somewhat neere; she's left alone,
Sit there? I will; eate? but begin Ile do't:
Faine would I take her by the hand, but feare
Hers rather would melt mine, than melt in mine:
Why should my sence of touching thus turne Coward?
My eyes being so valiant, can you speake?
Oh such a wife through all the world I'de wish,
That would be ever Tongue-ty'd; reach your hand?
I would and gladly too; s'foot I will venture,
No danger, a white, soft, and delicate palme,
That nigh dissolves in touching: you feele well,
Sweet, can you kisse? most sweet and excellent;
Againe, againe; were there no worse in Hell,
And this the place, here would I wish to dwell.
Nay you that can both touch and lip it too,
Sure can doe something else: be'st thou a Lamia,
Or Incubus, thou canst not scape me so;
I have a spirit in me great as thine:
Th'hast boorded it, Ile see if thou eanst Bed,
And try if thou hast mettle to thy shape;
Dumbe spirits cannot clamour out for helpe,
Ile now try Masteries.
Thundering and howling, Ent. Chan. like the Divell
Chan.
Thinke upon thy Bond.
Sl.
Ha? when is't due?
Di.
Now.
Sl.
Hellish Fiend thou lyest;
But ere thou claim'st that debt, shew me that beauty
I am so much entranc'd with.
Di.
'Tis vanisht into Aire, whence it was form'd.
Sl.
Great Belzebub, yet once more let me see't.
Di.
Not possible, untill you meet in Hell; so neere
Thy Fate, and cannot now the terrour of that place
Coole thy hot courage? see the forfeiture,
And here I doe arrest thee.
Sl.
Angels bale mee,
Or I am ever lost.
Di.
Canst thou deny thy deed?
Sl.
That hand I cannot, yet be not Judge and
Accuser too; Ile put my cause to censure.
Di.
Who shall doe't.
Sl.
The next we meete.
Di
I am content, 'tis done; how ere thy soule
I'me confident is won.
Exeunt.
Scæn. 2.
Enter Usurer, and Scrivener.Usu.
Oh, curse on that supply that snatcht from me
So rich a Morgage.
Scri.
You look'd not in the Almanack
For good and evill dayes.
Usu.
Yes, but too late:
For when 'twas past, I counsail'd with the day.
Scri.
And pray what was the Motto.
Usu.
Ghesse I pray thee.
Scri.
Alas poore man, all to no purpose, be better advis'd,
Or it may be, kept out of his clutches; these, if we may
Beleeve th'Astronomer, are omenous dayes.
Usu.
Tush, none of these.
Scri.
What then?
Vsu.
Nihil in Bag.
Scri.
Nihil in Bag? a scurvy criticall Embleme,
Presaging empty pockets, why no Cutpurse
Will trade when that's in power; then why would you.
Lend money in that unlucky houre?
Usu.
It shall be a warning to me: in th'meane time
Would it were raz'd out of the Kalendar quite,
It is a day prodigious.
Enter Changeable and Slightall.
Di.
If I can prove that all thy debts be paid
Thou art my owne, was't not, and speake thy conscience,
Our joynt condition?
Sl.
I confesse it was.
Di.
That Usurer's one of thy maine Creditors,
But when thou wast so free to pay thy debts, thou ne're
Dream'st of thy forfeit; propose to him thy question.
Sl
And I will, I bid thee that thy money
Ne're shall doe, save thee.
Vsu.
Beshrow you sir, you made me start,
What is your will with me?
Sl.
I speake to thee
As to the Drawer at the Vintners Barre:
What is all paid?
Vsu.
And like the Bar-boy I
When you bring ready mony, and keepe touch
All's pay'd sir, and y'are welcome.
Di.
'Tis confess'd.
Scri.
What's he that lookes so gastly?
Sl.
'Tis the Divell.
Scri.
My Pen and Inkhorne blesse me.
Vsu.
All those crosses that I have figur'd on the
Princes Coyne, stand still betwixt me and danger,
Exeunt Vsu. and Scri.
Di.
These are discharg'd, what refuge hast thou now?
Nay bring me unto all thy Creditors;
Ile prove thy debts discharg'd.
Sl.
I pray how many
Can say the like? merit I Hell for that?
Di.
But I must have my bargaine.
Sl.
Two words to't.
Enter two Gentlemen.
Di.
Hast thou not ow'd to these?
Sl.
Most true, I have.
Di.
Resolve me friends, as you are Gentlemen,
In what knowne summes did this man stand ingag'd to
Each of you?
Gen 1.
I know not why you aske sir,
But the time was he ought me some few peeces,
I thought them desperate once, but nobly, since
He to the full hath seene me satisfied.
Gen. 2.
I never met with a more generous debtor,
I onely trusted him with some few summes,
And he hath paid me use and principall,
A thing I ne're expected.
Di.
That's all Gentlemen—morow
Gen. 1.
The like to you; I wonder what the Divell
Slightall ayles, he lookes so strangely on us?
Gen. 2.
Sparkes no doubt, of his first madnesse.
Exeunt.
Di.
Doe but name the man, to whom thou canst appeale.
Sl.
I must confesse I'me gone by th'common Law,
The Chancery too, because of thee, my conscience,
If to any, I appeale to the Church.
Di.
And to whom there?
Sl.
To any reverent Father.
Ent. Frier Ber. and Frier Iohn.
Di.
Then to these, to both, or either, freely take thy choice.
Sl.
Holy Frier Bernard then, my parting breath
Could not desire a better confessor.
Di.
Reade there, and tell me what thou think'st of that.
Ber.
Give me but leave to take my second eyes,
I will resolve you presently.
Di.
In th'interim, what's the best newes in the parish?
Sl.
Where I live?
Di.
Yes.
Sl.
Ile tell thee all I know,
We are better to the Suburbes than they planted
Within the City; there on holy dayes
The taverne doores are ever shut till sixe,
Else is the Vintner fin'd; but there where wee
Keepe rendevous may be let in at three, and never stir
The Informers.
Ber.
Horrible; what tremour this begets?
Io.
Is that the Divell?
Ber.
So this Indenture speakes.
Io.
Ten thousand Creeds, as many Pater-nosters,
Ave Maries stand betweene me and harme.
In these conditions, I like a cunning Lawyer find a
Clause to cheate the Divell, and to save a soule;
Be'st thou the greatest fell with Lucifer,
Nay he himselfe, I now am arm'd for thee: what claim'st
Thou of this man?
Di.
I claime a soule.
Ber.
Which is not forfeit.
Di.
Shew me reasons why.
Ber.
By helpe of Heaven I shall: this deede thus runs;
When all his Creditors are satisfied,
His Bonds discharg'd and cancell'd, debts full paid,
His Morgages call'd in, his words redeem'd,
This Bond is then in vertue; not till then.
Di.
All this I grant, and call to witnesse none
Save his owne Conscience; art thou not at freedome,
And cleare from all the world?
Sl.
Most true, I am,
Nor can I name that party under Heaven
To whom I owe one farthing; a brasse token
Will cancell all my scores.
Io.
'Tis a plaine case.
Ber.
Yes, but against the Divell.
Di.
Speake, how that?
Ber.
What were the summes for which he stood ingag'd?
Di.
Some fifteene thousand pounds, which I have pay'd,
And now the man owes nothing; therefore duely I
Claime both soule and body.
Ber.
Both are quit,
As thou thy selfe shalt to thy griefe confesse;
For I will prove him more indebted now
Than e're he was before.
Di.
To whom?
Ber.
To thee,
Whom till he have discharg'd the utmost penny,
The Bond's of no effect.
Di.
And am I tripp'd?
Io.
The Divell hath bragg'd he hath caught many a Frier,
Now one hath caught the Divell.
Sl.
Am I cleare then?
Io.
Yes, till thou pay'st him all his money downe,
Which when thou doest th'art worthy to be damn'd.
Sl.
Insert but that condition 'mongst the rest,
And I'le againe subscribe; Gramercy Frier.
Di.
Nay then I see vainely we Divells stand against the
Church, they have still the upper hand,
I yeeld me vanquish'd; in the meame time Frier read
And conceale.
Gives him another paper to reade.
Sl.
What, by a quid it freed? by a quirke in the Law? by
This I see the Divell's no good Lawyer: give me my deed,
That I may see it cancell'd and undone:
Of the least Letter be reserv'd as witnesse
Against my soule when I shall resurvive;
Nor shall I be at patience till I see
This Parchment ashes, and this horrid Writ
Dissolv'd to smoake and aire.
Di.
Yet for my love,
For all the good thou hast receiv'd by me,
For all my cost and charges, large expence,
As I acquit thee truely, so thou freely
Lend me thine eare.
Sl.
Thy bounty hath deserv'd it,
To save a soule I know no Scrivener here
That would not onely lend but give an eare.
Ber.
I am inform'd to th'full; if this be true,
Divell, th'art honest, and shalt have thy due:
Associate me Frier Iohn.
Io.
With all my heart,
If this be Asteroth I so late invoakt, I never shall desire
His company, but on an empty stomacke.
Ex. Friers.
Sl.
And shall I meet her there?
Di.
Presume thou shalt.
Sl.
The selfe same spirit?
Di.
And enjoy her to:
Doe thou but hazard as thou did'st before
And doubt not, she's thine owne.
Sl.
Substantially?
Di.
As a contracted Bride and Bed-fellow.
Sl.
No difference in her shape and ornament?
Di.
None.
Sl.
Thou canst doe much with me, nor doe I
Know beyond what bounds thy credence to extend: thou
May'st prove false, but th'hast bin yet my friend.
Exeunt all.
Scæ 3.
Enter Anne in Bed, Mistris Changeable, Lord Skales, Treatwell and Geffery.Lo.
Run for the Doctor Geffery.
An.
Let him stay,
Deaths Image cannot shew so gastly to me
As would the shape of Doctor, Ile have none.
Wi.
Nay sweet Nan be perswaded.
An.
If he come
Good faith Ile live no longer.
Lo.
Sooth her up,
Or she will grow to frenzy.
Wi.
How doth my sweet heart?
An.
Sicke, oh sicke at heart, and you keepe such a buzzing
In my eares, that I can take no rest;
Would you would leave mee.
Wi.
See here's my Lord.
An.
From whom, if't
Be his will, the Lord deliver me.
Tre.
The maid talkes idly.
Wi.
What would my honey have?
An.
Your absence,
Unlesse you give me rest; oh sicke, sicke, sicke,
Your tongues like untun'd Bells, sound in my eares,
Nothing but Grave and Church-yard.
Wi.
Whom wilt have
To watch with thee all night?
An.
None but my Father,
All tongues are noise and discords saving his;
But his like charming Musicke, quietly
Summons my eyes to rest; and could I sleepe once
I hope I should be better, oh.
Lo.
'Tis best to humour her.
An.
I shall disclaime all friendship with that tongue
That speakes another sillable; this prating
It strikes quite through my head, and makes it beate
As it would fall in peeces.
Wi.
Silence all.
An.
Mother, you talke of silence, and yet speake; how can that be?
Wi.
Mum.
An.
if you were sicke at heart as I, you'de
Say mum were a word, Mum sounds to me, being sicke,
Loud as a Cannon; why so? I thanke you all, indeed you
Doe me now a wondrous kindnesse; I pray, pray for me, I
shall be well at midnight, well at heart;
And at head too I hope: and Mother, nay reply not,
I'me like the man that could endure no noise
In'th silent woman, answer all in signes;
Mother I hope ere morning I shall find
Some more hearts ease; remember when you see't,
I told you of't before hand: I would sleepe:
Hand in my bed, Ile turne to the wall, and try if I can
Sleepe, so good night all.
The Bed pull'd in
Wi.
So, softly as you can; some little rest
Will bring her to her temper, for this night
We will commit her to her Fathers charge, since she so
Much desires it.
Lo.
Any thing to give her least content.
Enter old Changeable and Roger.
Chan.
Thou knowst my mind, what thou hast undertooke
Mannage with good discretion.
Rog.
'Tis as safe
Here in my breast as under bolts and lockes,
The cunning'st pick-locke tongue that ever spake
Shall turne these springs to ope them; farewell sir.
Chan.
Farewell good Roger, but no word to' your Master
Of what I have reveal'd thee kept from him.
Rog.
As I would doe a kindnesse, lay't in me,
Exit.
Chan.
Now my Lord; I am still labouring for the generall
Good, to have my house at peace, and you content;
But Wife, how is't with Nan?
Wi.
Sir, wondrous ill,
She will endure no counsell, physicke, language,
All tongues are clamour to her, saving yours,
Harsh as a blacke Sant, or a grating Wheele;
And I much feare without some providence, she scarce
Will live till morning.
Chan.
'Las poore Girle.
Lo.
But she entreats in midd'st of all extreames
That you would take the paines to watch with her,
No other she'le endure.
Chan.
And sir, I'le doe't,
No other tongue this night shall trouble her, nor presence
Save my owne; shall I entreate your Lordship, you good
Wife, and those you thinke best to associate you,
To stand in sight of all such Apparitions
As shall in this roome be made visible?
My life shall for your safety be ingag'd, in it can be no
Danger.
Lo.
What assurance can you produce for that?
Chan.
The word and faith of some approv'd religious,
Who have promis'd, at my great intercession, that this
Night shall be the last of all my progidies
That thus afflict my house.
Tre.
I am but one and I my selfe will venture.
Gef.
Faith
And I.
Chan.
I do not think wife but there will be visions
Worthy both sight and observation to;
What will you say if Slightall be this night
Contract to a she fury? but no words,
Ile not tell you all I know; he's past his sence
And apt for any stratagem of Hell: I am promis'd
Much faire hope; will you ascend and guide my Lord to a
Convenient place, where you may view this object?
Wi.
In th'meane time, how will you dispose your selfe?
Chan.
To watch with Nan,
And in her great dispaire to comfort her;
Nought but the dangerous sicknesse of my Girle
Could keepe me from you, but the houre drawes on,
Which Ghosts ever are tyed to.
Wi.
Mauger spirits, Ile
Once take spirit into me.
Lo.
A woman lead?
They ascend.
'Twere basenesse not to follow.
Chan.
My Girle's my
This night; and since one Divell some
Few dayes since began to haunt my house
She ne're had peace of thought, health, nor content,
Or least essentiall comfort; which to compasse,
All Art, wit, learning, this night Ile implore
To drive him hence, shall haunt my house no more.
Exit.
Thunder.
Enter above Lord, Wife, Treatwell, and Geffery.
Lord.
The Larum's given;
For at that watch word still the rufling noyse begins.
Gef.
Would I were hence.
Lor.
Now sweeter Musicke strikes.
Wif.
There's no affright in this.
Enter Fryers, Bernard and Iohn at severall doores, as hallowing the Roome.
Gef.
My Lord these Friers I know.
Lo.
But whether
They, or but their shadowes by Art Magicke rais'd we
Cannot yet presume.
Wi.
But this I'me sure.
They are exceeding like.
Frier Bernard fetches in at his doore Slightall, and Roger, Frier Io. at his, Anne and the Divell.
Lo.
That can be none but Slightall.
Gef.
My Lord see, my
Fellow Roger's damn'd, for he's got in
Among the Fiends and Furies.
Wi.
Were I not certaine my daughter Nan were desperately
Sicke, and kept both Bed and Chamber, I durst sweare
That were my Girle.
Gef.
Is she not dead to night, and
Now her Ghost there walkes?
Lo.
What might we
Thinke of't? the Friers prepare for Marriage; but what, he
Stands for the Father, whom they beckon to, to give
Her hand to Slightall.
Gef.
Now I have't;
Upon my life the Divell can be no better; she the illusive
Spirit by whom this roome was haunted, contracted
Now unto yon desperate Ruffian.
Lo.
But this troubles me, the Fury should assume no other
Shape but her faire Angell beauty.
Wi.
Even for that, great reason too,
[Lo.]
would I could understand it.
Wi.
Because he was enamoured first on her,
The more to tempt him, she assum'd that shape,
Nay goe together, you have my consent,
Ile ne're forbid the Banes.
Lo.
Much joy unto you, good troth nor I.
Wi.
The Divell give you good of't.
Chan.
And so the
Divell doth, for your kind consent my Lord I thanke you,
And gentle wife for yours.
An.
And, next my Father,
I hold it my fit duty, thankes to both.
Wi.
Let me leape downe the next way, for the contract
I vow to breake.
Rog.
But Mistris, that's the next way
To breake your necke, and keepe the contract firme;
The Staire-case will doe better.
Lo.
Thus o're reach'd?
Wi.
Fool'd and deluded? give me way my Lord,
For I will downe among them.
Rog.
Hye to shelter, for there's a storme comming.
Sl.
That you are man, this woman, I am rapt
And extasy'd in braine, but cannot yet
Unwrappe my sences from this wondrous maze;
This suddaine light of knowledge so much dazels,
That in my judgement I am blinded quite,
And know not how to free me.
Chan.
That anon, my Daughter making knowne your
Deepe dispaire, your helpe I studied both of purse and braine,
And fearing a lost soule, I then turn'd Divell,
To prove your better Angell; talke with her,
For I must arme for thunder.
Enter Lord, Wife, Treatwell, and Geffery.
Wi.
Was this a marriage in the Divells name?
Chan.
Yes, and his Dam in presence; she lookt on
Wi.
That your shee Lamia?
Chan.
Yes, my sweet wench Nan.
Wi.
Were you sicke with a vengeance?
An.
But I told you I should be well by Midnight;
So good Mother I feele my selfe I am well, never better.
Ch.
Shall I be plaine, my Lord? I crave your pardon,
Wife, for your rage I am arm'd, yes,
If thou could'st encounter with
I am practis'd in the Divell: but to you, my Lord,
I pass'd my faith unto this Gentleman,
Had it beene done to you I ne're had broke it.
Lo.
Sir you speake nobly;
What must bee, must be: it is in the will of Heaven,
And I am well pleas'd with it.
Wi.
And am I over-reach'd? well Slightall,
My blessing on thee, she's thine.
Sl.
Mother, my Knee in duty bowes thus low:
My Lord, your hand, I hope no
Malice harbours in your heart.
Lo.
I hope you'le not imagine't.
Sl.
Sir I doe not; and all I hope are pleas'd.
All.
Wee are.
Sl.
If these be so, we then are happy,
We are new wedded, you are our chiefe Guest,
Though once my Rivall, now you are my friend:
My fortune thus all malice hath defeated,
And by a new trike the Grand Divell cheated.
Exeunt Omnes.
FINIS.
| A Pleasant and VVitty Comedy : Called, A New Tricke to Cheat the Divell | |