 | The late Lancashire VVitches |  |
ACTVS, III.
SCENA, I.
Enter old Seely and Ioane his Wife.Seely.
Come away wife, come away, and let us be ready
to breake the Cake over the Brides head at
her entrance; we will have the honour of it,
we that have playd the Steward and Cooke at
home, though we lost Church by't, and saw not
Parson Knit-knot doe his office, but wee shall
see all the house rites perform'd; and.—oh what a day of jollity
and tranquility is here towards?
Ioane.
You are so frolick and so cranck now, upon the truce
is taken amongst us, because our wrangling shall not wrong the
Wedding, but take heed (you were best) how ye behave your
selfe, lest a day to come may pay for all.
Seel.
I feare nothing, and I hope to dye in this humor.
Joan.
Oh how hot am I! rather then I would dresse such another
dinner this twelve moneth, I would wish Wedding
quite out of this yeares Almanack.
Seel.
Ile fetch a Cup of Sack Wife—
Ioan.
How brag he is of his liberty, but the holyday carries it.
Seel.
Here, here sweet-heart, they are long me thinks a comming,
the Bels have rung out this halfe houre, harke now the
wind brings the sound of them sweetly againe.
Ioan.
They ring backwards me thinks.
Seel.
Isack they doe, sure the greatest fire in the Parish is in
our Kitchin, and there's no harme done yet, no 'tis some merry
conceit of the stretch-ropes the Ringers, now they have done,
and now the Wedding comes, hearke, the Fidlers and all, now
have I liv'd to see a day come, take our stand, and be ready for
the Bride-cake, which we will so cracke and crumble upon her
crowne: o they come, they come.
All.
Ioy, health; and children to the married paire.
Lawr. & Parn.
We thanke you all.
Lawr.
So pray come in and fare.
Parn.
As well as we and taste of every care:
Lawr.
With bonny Bridegroome and his lovely mate.
Arth.
This begins bravely.
Doug.
They agree better then the Bels eene now, 'slid they
rung tunably till we were all out of the Church, and then they
clatter'd as the divell had beene in the Bellfry: on in the name
of Wedlocke, Fidlers on.
Lawr.
On with your melody.
Bant.
Enter the Gates with joy,
The Fidlers passe through, and play the battle.
And as you enter play the sack of Troy.
The Spirit appeares.
Ioan.
Welcome Bride Parnell.
Seel.
Bridegroome Lawrence eke,
In you before, for we this cake must breake.
Exit Lawrence.
Over the Bride—
As they lift up the Cake, the Spirit snatches it, and powres down bran.
Forgi' me—what's become
O' th' Cake wife!
Ioan.
It flipt out of my hand, and is falne into crums I think.
Dought.
Crums? the divell of crum is here, but bran, nothing
but bran, what prodigie is this?
Parn.
Is my best Brides Cake come to this! o wea warth it.
Exit Parn. Seely, Joane, and Maides.
Whet.
How daintily the Brides haire is powder'd with it.
Arth.
My haire stands an end to see it.
Bant.
And mine.
Shak.
I was never so amaz'd!
Dough.
What can it meane?
Greg.
Pax, I think not on't, 'tis but some of my Father and
Mothers roguery, this is a Law-day with 'em, to doe what they
list.
I never feare any thing, so long as my Aunt has but
bidden me thinke of her and she'll warrant me.
Dough.
Well Gentlemen, let's follow the rest in, and feare nothing
yet, the house smels well of good cheere.
Seel.
Gentlemen, will it please you draw neere, the guests are
now all come, and the house almost full, meat's taken up.
Dough.
We were now comming.
Seel.
But sonne Gregory, Nephew Arthur, and the rest of
the young Gentlemen, I shall take it for a favor if you will (it is
an office which very good Gentlemen doe in this Country) accompane
the Bridegroome in serving the meat.
All.
With all our hearts.
Seely.
Nay neighbor Doughty, your yeares shall excuse you.
Dough.
Peugh, I am not so old but I can carry more meate
then I can eate, if the young rascals coo'd carry their drinke as
well, the Country would be quieter—
Knock within, as at dresser.
Seel.
VVell fare your hearts,—the dresser calls in Gentlemen,
Exeunt Gentlemen.
'Tis a busie time, yet will I review the Bill of fare, for this dayes
dinner—
(Reades)
for 40. people of the best quality, 4. messes
of meat; viz. a leg of Mutton in plum-broth, a dish of Marrow-bones
a Capon in white-broth, a Surloyne of beefe, a Pig, a
Goose, a Turkie, and two Pyes: for the second course, to every
messe 4. Chickens in a dish, a couple of Rabbets, Custard, Flawn,
Florentines, and stewd pruines,—all very good Country fare,
and for my credit,—
The service enters, O well sayd Musicke, play up the meat to
the Table till all be serv'd in, Ile see it passe in answer to my bill.
Dough.
Hold up your head Mr. Bridegroome.
On afore Fidlers, my doubler cewles in my honds.
Seely.
Inprimus, a leg of Mutton in plum-broth,—how now
Mr. Bridegroome, what carry you?
Lawr.
'Twere hot eene now, but now it's caw'd as a steane.
Seel.
A stone, 'tis horne man.
Lawr.
Aw—
Exit Fidlers.
Seely.
It was Mutton, but now 'tis the horns on't.
Lawr.
Aw where's my Bride—
Exit.
Dough.
'Zookes, I brought as good a Surloyne of Beefe from
the Dresser as Knife coo'd be put to, and see—Ile stay i' this
house no longer.
Arth.
And if this were not a Capon in white broth, I am
one i' the Coope.
Shak.
All, all's transform'd, looke you what I have!
Bant.
And I.
Whet.
And I! Yet I feare nothing thank my Aunt.
Greg.
I had a Pie that is not open'd yet, Ile see what's in that—
live Birds as true as I live, look where they flye!
Exit Spirit.
Dough.
Witches, live Witches, the house is full of witches,
if we love our lives let's out on't.
Enter Joane and Win.
Ioan.
O husband, O guests, O sonne, O Gentlemen, such a
chance in a Kitchin was never heard of, all the meat is flowne out
o' the chimney top I thinke, and nothing instead of it, but
Snakes, Batts, Frogs, Beetles, Hornets, and Humble-bees; all
the Sallets are turn'd to Iewes-eares, Mushromes, and Puckfists;
and all the Custards into Cowsheards!
Dought.
VVhat shall we doe, dare we stay any longer?
Arth.
Dare we! why not, I defie all VVitches, and all their
workes; their power on our meat, cannot reach our persons.
Whet.
I say so too, and so my Aunt ever told me, so long I
will feare nothing; be not afrayd Mr. Doughty.
Dough.
Zookes, I feare nothing living that I can see more
then you, and that's nothing at all, but to thinke of these invisible
mischiefes, troubles me I confesse.
Arth.
Sir I will not goe about to over-rule your reason, but
I see the last man borne.
Dough.
Zookes thou art so brave a fellow that I will stick to
thee, and if we come off handsomely, I am an old Batchelour
thou know'st, and must have an heyre, I like thy spirit, where's
the Bride? where's the Bridegroome? where's the Musicke?
where be the Lasses? ha' you any wine i' the house, though we
make no dinner, lets try if we can make an afternoone.
Ioan.
Nay sir if you please to stay, now that the many are
frighted away, I have some good cold meates, and halfe a dozen
bottles of VVine.
Seel.
And I will bid you welcome.
Dough.
Say you me so, but will not your sonne be angry, and
your daughter chide you.
Greg.
Feare not you that sir, for look you I obey my Father.
Win.
And I my Mother.
Ioan.
And we are all at this instant as well and as sensible of
our former errors, as you can wish us to be.
Dough.
Na, if the Witches have but rob'd of your meat, and
restor'd your reason, here has beene no hurt done to day, but this
is strange, and as great a wonder as the rest to me.
Arth.
It seemes though these Hags had power to make
the Wedding cheere a Deceptio visus, the former store has
scap'd 'em.
Dough.
I am glad on't, but the divell good 'hem with my
Surloyne, I thought to have set that by mine owne Trencher—
But you have cold meat you say?
Joan.
Yes Sir.
Dought.
And Wine you say?
Ioane.
Yes sir.
Dought.
I hope the Country wenches and the Fidlers are
not gone.
Win.
They are all here, and one the merriest Wench; that
makes all the rest so laugh and tickle.
Seel.
Gentlemen will you in?
All.
Agreed on all parts.
Dought,
If not a Wedding we will make a Wake on't, and
away with the Witch; I feare nothing now you have your wits
againe: but look you, hold 'em while you have 'em.
Exeunt.
Gener.
I confesse thou hast done a Wonder in fetching me so
good Wine, but my good Servant Robert, goe not about to put
a Myracle upon me, I will rather beleeve that Lancaster affords
this Wine, which I thought impossible till I tasted it, then that
thou coo'dst in one night fetch it from London.
Rob.
I have known when you have held mee for an honest
fellow, and would have beleev'd me.
Gener.
Th'art a Knave to wish me to beleeve this, forgi'me,
I would have sworne if thou had'st stayd but time answerable
for the journey (to his that flew to Paris and back to London in
a day) it had been the same Wine, but it can never fall within
the compasse of a Christians beleefe, that thou cou'dst ride above
three hundred miles in 8. houres: You were no longer out, and
upon one Horse too, and in the Night too!
Rob.
And carry a Wench behind me too, and did something
else too, but I must not speak of her lest I be divell-torne.
Gen.
And fill thy bottles too, and come home halfe drunke
too, for so thou art, thou wouldst never a had such a fancy else!
Rob.
I am sorry I have sayd so much, and not let Lancaster
have the credit o' the Wine.
Gen.
O are you so! and why have you abus'd me and your
selfe then all this while, to glorifie the Myter in Fleet-street?
Rob.
I could say sir, that you might have the better opinion
of the Wine, for there are a great many pallats in the Kingdome
that can relish no Wine, unlesse it be of such a Taverne, and
drawne by such a Drawer—
Gen.
I sayd, and I say againe, if I were within ten mile of
London, I durst sweare that this was Myter Wine, and drawn
by honest Iacke Paine.
Rob.
Nay then sir I swore, and I sweare againe, honest Iack
Paine drew it.
Gener.
Ha, ha, ha, if I coo'd beleeve there were such a thing
as Witchcraft, I should thinke this slave were bewitch'd now
with an opinion.
Much good doe you sir, your Wine and your mirth, and
my place for your next Groome, I desire not to stay to be laught
out of my opinion.
Gen.
Nay be not angry Robin, we must not part so, and how
does my honest Drawer? ha, ha, ha; and what newes at London,
Robin? ha, ha, ha; but your stay was so short I think you
coo'd heare none, and such your haste home that you coo'd
make none: is't not so Robin? ha, ha, ha, what a strange fancy
has good Wine begot in his head?
Rob.
Now will I push him over and over with a peece of
paper: Yes sir, I have brought you something from London.
Gen.
Come on, now let me heare.
Rob.
Your honest Drawer sir, considering that you consider'd
him well for his good wine—
Gen.
VVhat shall we heare now?
Rob.
VVas very carefull to keepe or convay this paper to
you, which it seemes you dropt in the roome there.
Gener.
Blesse me! this paper belongs to me indeed, 'tis an acquittance,
and all I have to show for the payment of one hundred
pound, I tooke great care for't, and coo'd not imagine
where or how I might loose it, but why may not this bee a
tricke? this Knave may finde it when I lost it, and conceale
it till now to come over me withall. I will not trouble my
thoughts with it further at this time, well Robin looke to your
businesse, and have a care of my Guelding.
Robin.
Yes Sir. I think I have netled him now, but not as
I was netled last night, three hundred Miles a Night upon a
Rawbon'd Divell, as in my heart it was a Divell, and then a
VVench that shar'd more o' my backe then the sayd Divell did
o my Bum, this is ranke riding my Masters: but why had I such
an itch to tell my Master of it, and that he should beleeve it; I
doe now wish that I had not told, and that hee will not beleeve
it, for I dare not tell him the meanes: 'Sfoot my Wench
and her friends the Fiends, will teare me to pieces if I discover
her; a notable rogue, she's at the VVedding now, for as good a
Mayd as the best o'em—O my Mistresse.
Mrs.
Robin.
Rob.
I Mistresse.
Mrs.
Quickly good Robin, the gray Guelding.
Rob.
VVhat other horse you please Mistresse.
Mrs.
And why not that?
Rob.
Truly Mistresse pray pardon me, I must be plaine with
you, I dare not deliver him you; my master has tane notice of
the ill case you have brought him home in divers times.
Mrs.
O is it so, and must he be made acquainted with my
actions by you, and must I then be controll'd by him, and now
by you; you are a sawcy Groome.
Rob.
You may say your pleasure.
He turnes from her.
Mrs.
No sir, Ile doe my pleasure.
She Bridles him.
Rob.
Aw.
Mrs.
Horse, horse, see thou be,
And where I point thee carry me.
Exeunt Neighing.
Enter Arthur, Shakston, and Bantam.
Arth.
VVas there ever such a medley of mirth, madnesse,
and drunkennesse, shuffled together.
Shak.
Thy Vnckle and Aunt, old Mr. Seely and his wife, doe
nothing but kisse and play together like Monkeyes.
Arth.
Yes, they doe over-love one another now.
Bant.
And young Gregory and his sister doe as much overdoe
their obedience now to their Parents.
Arth.
And their Parents as much over-doat upon them, they
are all as farre beyond their wits now in loving one another, as
they were wide of them before in crossing.
Shak.
Yet this is the better madnesse.
Bant.
But the married couple that are both so daintily whitled,
that now they are both mad to be a bed before Suppertime,
and by and by he will, and she wo' not; streight she will
and he wo' not, the next minute they both forget they are married,
and defie one another.
Arth.
My sides eene ake with laughter.
Shak.
But the best sport of all is, the old Batchelour Master
is now wound up to such a confidence that there is no such
thing, that hee dares the Divell doe his worst, and will not out
o'the house by all persuasion, and all for the love of the husband-mans
daughter within, Mal Spencer.
Arth.
There I am in some danger, he put me into halfe a beliefe
I shall be his heire, pray love shee be not a witch to charme
his love from mee. Of what condition is that wench do'st thou
know her?
Sha.
A little, but Whetstone knowes her better.
Arth.
Hang him rogue, he'le belye her, and speak better than
she deserves, for he's is love with her too. I saw old Doughty
give him a box o'the eare for kissing her, and hee turnd about as
he did by thee yesterday, and swore his Aunt should know it.
Bant.
Who would ha'thought that impudent rogue would
have come among us after such a baffle.
Sha.
He told me, hee had complain'd to his Aunt on us, and
that she would speak with us.
Arth.
Wee will all to her to patch vp the businesse, for the
respect I beare her husband, noble Generous.
Bant.
Here he comes.
Enter Whetstone.
Arth.
Hearke you Mr. Byblow do you know the lasse within?
What do you call her, Mal Spencer?
Whet.
Sir, what I know i'le keepe to my selfe, a good civile
merry harmlesse rogue she is, and comes to my Aunt often, and
thats all I know by her.
Arth.
You doe well to keepe it to your selfe sir.
Whet.
And you may do well to question her if you dare. For
the testy old coxcombe that will not let her goe out of his
hand.
Sha.
Take heed, he's at your heels.
Enter Doughty, Mal, and two countrey Lasses
Dough.
Come away Wenches, where are you Gentlemen?
Play Fidlers: lets have a dance, ha my little rogue.
Kisses Mal.
Zookes what ayles thy nose.
My nose! Nothing sir.—
turnes about
—Yet mee
thought a flie toucht it. Did you see any thing?
Dou.
No, no, yet I would almost ha'sworn, I would not have
sprite or goblin blast thy face, for all their kingdome. But hangt
there is no such thing: Fidlers will you play?
Gentlemen will you dance?
All.
With all our hearts.
Arth.
But stay wheres this houshold?
This Family of love? Let's have them into the revels.
Dou.
Hold a little then.
Sha.
Here they come all
In a True-love knot.
Enter Seely, Ioane, Greg, Win.
Greg.
O Father twentie times a day is too little to aske you
blessing.
See.
Goe too you are a rascall: and you houswife teach your
daughter better manners: i'le ship you all for new England els.
Bant.
The knot's untied, and this is another change.
Ioane.
Yes I will teach her manners, or put her out to spin
two penny tow: so you deare husband will but take mee into
favor: i'le talke with you dame when the strangers are gone.
Greg.
Deare Father.
Win.
Deare Mother.
Greg., Win.
Deare Father and Mother pardon us but this time.
See., Ioa.
Never, and therefore hold your peace.
Dough.
Nay thats unreasonable.
Greg., VVin.
Oh!—VVeepe.
See.
But for your sake i'le forbeare them, and beare with any
thing this day.
Arth.
Doe you note this? Now they are all worse than ever
they were, in a contrary vaine: What thinke you of Witchcraft
now?
Don.
They are all naturall fooles man, I finde it now.
Art thou mad to dreame of Witchcraft?
Arth.
He's as much chang'd and bewitcht as they I feare.
Hey day! Here comes the payre of boyld Lovers in
Sorrell sops.
Enter Lawrence and Parnell.
Lawr.
Nay deare hunny, nay hunny, but eance, eance.
Par.
Na, na, I han' swarne, I han' swarne, not a bit afore bed,
and look yeou it's but now dauncing time.
Dough.
Come away Bridegroome, wee'll stay your stomack
with a daunce. Now masters play a good: come my Lasse wee'l
shew them how 'tis.
Musicke. Selengers round.
As they beginne to daunce, they play, another tune, then fall into many.
Ar., Ban., Sha.
Whether now, hoe?
Dou.
Hey day! why you rogues.
VVhet.
What do's the Divell ride o'your Fiddlestickes.
Dou.
You drunken rogues, hold, hold, I say, and begin againe
soberly the beginning of the World
Musicke Every one a severall all tune.
Arth., Bant., Shak
Ha, ha, ha, How's this?
Bant.
Every one a severall tune
Dou.
This is something towards it. I bad them play the beginning
o'the World, and they play, I know not what.
Arth.
No 'tis running o'the country severall waies.
But what do you thinke on't.
Musicke cease.
Dough
Thinke! I thinke they are drunke Prithee doe not
thou thinke of Witchcraft; for my part, I shall as soone thinke
this maid one, as that theres any in Lancashire.
Mal.
Ha, ha ha.
Dough.
Why do'st thou laugh?
Mal.
To thinke this Bridegroome should once ha'bin mine,
but he shall rue it, ile hold him this point on't, and thats all I care
for him.
Dough.
A witty Rogue.
Whet.
I tell you sir, they say shee made a payle follow her
t'other day up two payre of stayres.
Dough,
You lying Rascall.
Arth.
O sir forget your anger.
Looke you Mr. Bridegroome, what my care provides
for you
Lawrence.
What, a point?
Mal.
Yes put it in your pocket it may stand you instead anon,
when all your points be tane away, to trusse up your trinkits,
I meane your slopes withall.
Lawr.
Mal for awd acquaintance I will ma'thy point a
point of preferment. It shan bee the Foreman of a haell Iewrie
o'points, and right here will I weare it.
Par.
Wy'a, wy'a, awd leove wo no be forgetten, but ay's never
be jealous the mare for that.
Arth.
Play fidlers any thing.
Dou.
I, and lets see your faces, that you play fairely with us.
Musitians shew themselves above.
Fid.
We do sir, as loud as we can possibly.
Sha.
Play out that we may heare you.
Fid.
So we do sir, as loud as we can possibly.
Dough.
Doe you heare any thing?
All.
Nothing not we sir.
Dough.
'Tis so, the rogues are brib'd to crosse me,
And their Fiddles shall suffer, I will breake em as small as the
Bride cake was to day.
Arth.
Looke you sir, they'l save you a labour, they are doing
it themselves.
Whet.
Oh brave Fidlers, there was never better scuffling for
the Tudberry Bull.
Mal.
This is mother Iohnson and Gooddy Dickisons roguerie,
I finde it, but I cannot helpe it, yet I will have musicke: sir
theres a Piper without, would be glad to earne money.
VVhet.
She has spoke to purpose, & whether this were witchcraft
or not: I have heard my Aunt say twentie times, that no
Witchcraft can take hold of a Lancashire Bag-pipe, for itselfe
is able to charme the Divell, ile fetch him.
Dough.
Well said, a good boy now; come bride and bridegroome,
leave your kissing and fooling, and prepare to come into
the daunce. Wee'le have a Horne-pipe, and then a posset and
cracke agen, a lusty Horne-pipe, and all into the daunce, nay
young and old.
Daunce. Lawrence and Parnell reele in the daunce. At the end, Mal vanishes, & the piper.
All.
Bravely performd.
Dou.
Stay, wheres my lasse?
Arth., Ban., Shak.
Vanisht, she and the Piper both vanisht, no
bodie knowes how.
Dou.
Now do I plainly perceive again, here has bin nothing
but witcherie all this day; therfore into your posset, & agree among
your selves as you can, ile out o'the house. And Gentlemen,
if you love me or your selves, follow me.
Ar., Bant., Sha., VVhet.
I, I, Away, away.
Exeunt.
See.
Now good son, wife, and daughter, let me intreat you
be not angry.
Win.
O you are a trim mother are you not?
Ioa.
Indeed childe, ile do so no more.
Greg.
Now sir, i'le talke with you, your champions are al gon.
Lawr.
Weell sir, and what wun yeou deow than?
Par.
Whay, whay, whats here to doe? Come awaw, and
whickly, and see us into our Brayd Chember, & delicatly ludgd
togeder, or wee'l whap you out o'dores ith morne to sijourne
in the common, come away.
All.
Wee follow yee.
Exeunt.
| The late Lancashire VVitches | |