University of Virginia Library

Scene. VIII.

Sir Povle. Mere-craft. Ever-ill. Traines. Pitfall. Fitz-dottrel. To them VVittipol. Manly. Mistresse Fitz-dottrel. Ingine. To them Gvilt-head. Sledge. to them Shackles.
The Iustice comes out wondring and the rest informing him.
[Pov.]
This was the notablest Conspiracy,
That ere I heard of.

Mer.
Sir, They had giu'n him potions,
That did enamour him on the counterfeit Lady—

Eve.
Iust to the time o'deliuery o'the deed—

Mer.
And then the witchcraft' gan't' appeare, for streight
He fell into his fit.

Eve.
Of rage at first, Sir,
Which since has so increased.

Tay.
Good Sr Poule, see him,
And punish the impostors.

Pov.
Therefore I come, Madame.

Eit.
Let Mr Etherside alone, Madame.

Pov.
Do you heare?
Call in the Constable, I will haue him by:
H'is the Kings Officer! and some Cittizens,
Of credit! I'll discharge my conscience clearly.

Mer.
Yes, Sir, and send for his wife.

Eve.
And the two Sorcerers,
By any meanes!

Tay.
I thought one a true Lady,
I should be sworne. So did you, Eyther-side?

Eit.
Yes, by that light, would I might ne'r stir else, Tailbush.

Tay.
And the other a ciuill Gentleman.

Eve.
But, Madame,
You know what I told your Ladyship.

Tay.
I now see it:
I was prouiding of a banquet for 'hem.
After I had done instructing o'the fellow
De-uile, the Gentlemans man

Mer.
Who's found a thiefe, Madam.
And to haue rob'd your Vsher, Master Ambler,
This morning.

Tay.
How?

Mer.
I'll tell you more, anon.

He beginnes his fit.
Fit.
Gi me some garlicke, garlicke, garlicke, garlicke.

Mer.
Harke the poore Gentleman, how he is tormented!

Fit.
My wife is a whore, I'll kisse her no more: and why?
Ma'st not thou be a Cuckold, as well as I?
Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, &c.

Pov.
That is the Diuell speakes, and laughes in him.

Mer.
Do you thinke so, Sr.

Pov.
I discharge my conscience.

The Iustice interpret all:
Fit.
And is not the Diuell good company? Yes, wis.

Eve.
How he changes, Sir, his voyce!

Fit.
And a Cuckold is
Where ere hee put his head, with a Wanion,
If his hornes be forth, the Diuells companion!
Looke, looke, looke, else.

Mer.
How he foames!

Eve.
And swells!

Tay.
O, me! what's that there, rises in his belly!

Eit.
A strange thing! hold it downe:

Tra. Pit.
We cannot, Madam.

Pov.
'Tis too apparent this!

Fit.
Wittipol, Wittipol.

Wittipol, and Manly, and Mistr. Fitz-dottrel enter.
Wit.
How not, what play ha' we here.

Man.
What fine, new matters?

Wit.
The Cockscomb, and the Couerlet.

Mer.
O strang impudēce!
That these should come to face their sinne!

Eve:
And out-face
Iustice, they are the parties, Sir.

Pov.
Say nothing.

Mer.
Did you marke, Sir, vpon their comming in,
How he call'd Wittipol.

Eve.
And neuer saw 'hem.

Pov.
I warrant you did I, let 'hem play a while.

Fit.
Buz, buz, buz, buz.

Tay.
Lasse poore Gentleman!
How he is tortur'd!

Mrs Fi.
Fie, Master Fitz-dottrel!
What doe you meane to counterfait thus?

Fit:
O, ô,
His wife goes to him.
Shee comes with a needle, and thrusts it in,
Shee pulls out that, and shee puts in a pinne,
And now, and now, I doe not know how, nor where,
But shee pricks mee heere, and shee pricks me there: ôh, ôh:

Pov.
Woman forbeare.

Wit.
What, Sr?

Pov.
A practice foule
For one so faire:

Wit:
Hath this, then, credit with you?

Man.
Do you beleeue in't?

Pov.
Gentlemen, I'll discharge
My conscience. 'Tis a cleare conspiracy!
A darke, and diuellish practice! I'detest it!

Wit.
The Iustice sure will proue the merrier man!

Man.
This is most strange, Sir!

Pov.
Come not to confront
Authority with impudence: I tell you,
I doe detest it. Here comes the Kings Constable,
And with him a right worshipfull Commoner;
My good friend, Master Guilt-head! I am glad
I can before such witnesses, professe
My conscience, and my detestation of it.
Horible! most vnaturall! Abominable!

They whisper him.
Eve.
You doe not tumble enough.

Mer.
Wallow, gnash:

Tay.
O, how he is vexed!

Pov.
'Tis too manifest.

Eve.
Giue him more soap to foame with, now lie still.

and giue him soape to act with.
Mer.
And act a little.

Tay.
What do's he now, sr.

Pov.
Shew
The taking of Tabacco, with which the Diuell
Is so delighted.

Fit.
Hum!

Pov.
And calls for Hum.
You takers of strong Waters, and Tabacco,
Marke this.

Fit.
Yellow, yellow, yellow, yellow, &c.

Pov.
That's Starch! the Diuells Idoll of that colour.
He ratifies it, with clapping of his hands.
The proofes are pregnant.

Gvi.
How the Diuel can act!

Pov.
He is the Master of Players! Master Guilt-head,
And Poets, too! you heard him talke in rime!
I had forgot to obserue it to you, ere while!

Sir Poule interprets Figgum to be a Iuglers game.
Tay.
See, he spits fire.

Pov.
O no, he plaies at Figgum,
The Diuell is the Author of wicked Figgum—

Man.
Why speake you not vnto him?

Wit.
If I had
All innocence of man to be indanger'd,
And he could saue, or ruine it: I'ld not breath
A syllable in request, to such a foole,
He makes himelfe.

Fit.
O they whisper, whisper, whisper.
Wee shall haue more, of Diuells a score,
To come to dinner, in mee the sinner.

Eyt.
Alas, poore Gentleman!

Pov.
Put 'hem asunder.
Keepe 'hem one from the other.

Man.
Are you phrenticke, Sir,
Or what graue dotage moues you, to take part
VVith so much villany? wee are not afraid
Either of law, or triall; let vs be
Examin'd what our ends were, what the meanes?
To worke by; and possibility of those meanes.
Doe not conclude against vs, ere you heare vs.

Pov.
I will not heare you, yet I will conclude
Out of the circumstances.

Man.
VVill you so, Sir?

Pov.
Yes, they are palpable:

Man.
Not as your folly:

Pov:
I will discharge my conscience, and doe all
To the Meridian of Iustice:

Gvi.
You doe well, Sir.

Fit.
Prouide mee to eat, three or foure dishes o' good meat,
I'll feast them, and their traines, a Iustice head and braines
Shall be the first.

Pov.
The Diuell loues not Iustice,
There you may see.

Fit.
A spare-rib o' my wife,
And a whores purt'nance! a Guilt-head whole.

Pov.
Be not you troubled, Sir, the Diuell speakes it.

Fit.
Yes, wis, Knight, shite, Poule, Ioule, owle, foule, troule, boule.

Pov.
Crambe, another of the Diuell's games!

Mer.
Speake, Sir, some Greeke, if you can. Is not the Iustice
A solemne gamester?

Eve.
Peace.

Fit.
Οι μοι, κακοδαιμων,
Και τρισκακοδαιμων, και τετρακις, και πεντακις,
Και δοδεκακις, και μυριακις.

Pov.
Hee curses
In Greeke, I thinke.

Eve.
Your Spanish, that I taught you.

Fit.
Quebrémos el ojo de burlas,

Eve.
How? your rest—
Let's breake his necke in iest, the Diuell saies,

Fit.
Di graá, Signòr mio se haúcte denári fataméne parte.

Mer.
What, would the Diuell borrow money?

Fit.
Ouy,
Ouy Monsieur, ùn pàuure Diable! Diablet in!

Pov.
It is the diuell, by his seuerall languages.

Enter the Keeper of New-gate.
Sha.
Where's Sr. Poule Ether-side?

Pov.
Here, what's the matter?

Sha.
O! such an accident falne out at Newgate, Sir:
A great piece of the prison is rent downe!
The Diuell has beene there, Sir, in the body—
Of the young Cut-purse, was hang'd out this morning,
But, in new clothes, Sir, euery one of vs know him.
These things were found in his pocket.

Amb.
Those are mine, Sr.

Sha.
I thinke he was committed on your charge, Sir.
For a new felony

Amb.
Yes.

Sha.
Hee's gone, Sir, now,
And left vs the dead body. But withall, Sir,
Such an infernall stincke, and steame behinde,
You cannot see St Pulchars Steeple, yet.
They smell't as farre as Ware, as the wind lies,
By this time, sure.

Fit.
Is this vpon your credit, friend?

Fitz-dottrel leaues counterfaiting.
Sha.
Sir, you may see, and satisfie your selfe.

Fit.
Nay, then, 'tis time to leaue off counterfeiting.
Sir I am not bewitch'd, not haue a Diuell:
No more then you. I doe defie him, I,
And did abuse you. These two Gentlemen
Put me vpon it. (I haue faith against him)
They taught me all my tricks. I will tell truth,
And shame the Feind. See, here, Sir, are my bellowes,
And my false belly, and my Mouse, and all
That should ha' come forth?

Man.
Sir, are not you asham'd
Now of your solemne, serious vanity?

Pov.
I will make honorable amends to truth.

Fit.
And so will I. But these are Coozeners, still;
And ha' my land, as plotters, with my wife:
Who, though she be not a witch, is worse, a whore.

Man.
Sir, you belie her. She is chaste, and vertuous,
And we are honest. I doe know no glory
A man should hope, by venting his owne follyes,
But you'll still be an Asse, in spight of prouidence.
Please you goe in, Sir, and heare truths, then iudge 'hem:
And make amends for your late rashnesse; when,
You shall but heare the paines and care was taken,
To saue this foole from ruine (his Grace of Drown'd-land)

Fit.
My land is drown'd indeed—

Pov.
Peace.

Man.
And how much
His modest and too worthy wife hath suffer'd
By mis-construction, from him, you will blush,
First, for your owne beliefe, more for his actions!
His land is his: and neuer, by my friend,
Or by my selfe, meant to another vse,
But for her succours, who hath equall right.
If any other had worse counsells in't,
(I know I speake to those can apprehend mee)
Let 'hem repent 'hem, and be not detected.
It is not manly to take ioy, or pride
In humane errours (wee doe all ill things,
They doe 'hem worst that loue 'hem, and dwell there,
Till the plague comes) The few that haue the seeds
Of goodnesse left, will sooner make their way
To a true life, by shame, then punishment.