 | The late Lancashire VVitches |  |
ACTVS, V.
SCENA, I.
Enter Doughty, Miller, Boy in a Cap.Doughty.
Thou art a brave Boy, the honour of thy Country;
thy Statue shall be set up in brasse upon the
Market Crosse in Lancaster, I blesse the time
that I answered at the Font for thee: 'Zookes
did I ever thinke that a Godson of mine should
have fought hand to fist with the Divell!
Mil.
He was ever an unhappy Boy Sir, and like enough to
grow acquainted with him; and friends may fall out sometimes.
Dought.
Thou art a dogged Sire, and doest not know the
vertue of my Godsonne, my sonne now; he shall be thy sonne
no longer: he and I will worry all the Witches in Lancashire.
Mil.
You were best take heed though.
Dough.
I care not, though we leave not above three untainted
women in the Parish, we'll doe it.
Mil.
Doe what you please Sir, there's the Boy stour enough
to justifie any thing he has sayd. Now 'tis out, he should be my
Sonne still by that: Though he was at Death's dore before he
would reveale any thing, the damnable jades had so threatned
him, and as soone as ever he had told he mended.
Dought.
'Tis well he did so, we will so swing them in two-penny
halters Boy.
Mil.
For my part I have no reason to hinder any thing that
may root them all out; I have tasted enough of their mischiefe,
witnesse my usage i' th Mill, which could be nothing but their
Roguerie. One night in my sleepe they set me a stride stark naked
a top of my Mill, a bitter cold night too; 'twas daylight before
I waked, and I durst never speake of it to this houre, because
I thought it impossible to be beleeved.
Villanous Hags!
Mil.
And all last Summer, my Wife could not make a bit of butter.
Dough.
It would not come, would it?
Mill.
No Sir, we could not make it come, though she and I
both together, churn'd almost our harts out, and nothing would
come, but all ran into thin waterish geere: the Pigges would
not drinke it.
Dought.
Is't possible?
Mil.
None but one, and he ran out of his wits upon't, till
we bound his head, and layd him a sleepe, but he has had a wry
mouth ever since.
Dought.
That the Divell should put in their hearts to delight
in such Villanies! I have sought about these two dayes, and
heard of a hundred such mischievous tricks, though none mortall,
but could not finde whom to mistrust for a Witch till now
this boy, this happy boy informes me.
And they should neere have been sought for me if their affrightments
and divellish devices, had not brought my Boy into
such a sicknesse; VVhereupon indeed I thought good to acquaint
your worship, and bring the Boy unto you being his
Godfather, and as you now stick not to say his Father.
Dought.
After you I thanke yon Gossip. But my Boy thou
hast satisfied me in their names, and thy knowledge of the women,
their turning into shapes, their dog-trickes, and their horse
trickes, and their great Feast in the Barne (a pox take them
with my Surloyne, I say still.) But a little more of thy combat
with the Divell, I prithee; he came to thee like a Boy thou sayest,
about thine owne bignesse?
Boy.
Yes Sir, and he asked me where I dwelt, and what my
name was.
Dough.
Ah Rogue!
Boy.
But it was in a quarrelsome way; VVhereupon I was
as stout, and ask'd him who made him an examiner?
Dough.
Ah good Boy.
Mil.
In that he was my Sonne.
Boy.
He told me he would know or beat it out of me,
And I told him he should not, and bid him doe his worst;
And to't we went.
In that he was my sonne againe, ha boy; I see him
at it now.
Boy.
VVe fought a quarter of an houre, till his sharpe nailes
made my eares bleed.
Dough.
O the grand Divell pare 'em.
Boy.
I wondred to finde him so strong in my hands, seeming
but of mine owne age and bignesse, till I looking downe,
perceived he had clubb'd cloven feet like Oxe feet; but his face
was as young as mine.
Dought.
A pox, but by his feet, he may be the Club-footed
Horse-coursers father, for all his young lookes.
Boy.
But I was afraid of his feet, and ran from him towards a
light that I saw, and when I came to it, it was one of the VVitches
in white upon a Bridge, that scar'd me backe againe, and
then met me the Boy againe, and he strucke me and layd mee
for dead.
Mil.
Till I wondring at his stay, went out and found him in
the Trance; since which time, he has beene haunted and frighted
with Goblins, 40. times, and never durst tell any thing (as
I sayd) because the Hags had so threatned him till in his sicknes
he revealed it to his mother.
Dough.
And she told no body but folkes on't. VVell Gossip
Gretty, as thou art a Miller, and a close thiefe, now let us keepe
it as close as we may till we take 'hem, and see them handsomly
hanged o'the way: Ha my little Cuffe-divell, thou art a made
man. Come, away with me.
Exeunt.
Enter Souldier.
Sould.
These two nights I have slept well and heard no noise
Of Cats, or Rats; most sure the fellow dream't,
And scratcht himselfe in 's sleep. I have traveld' Desarts,
Beheld Wolves, Beares, and Lyons: Indeed what not?
Of horrid shape; And shall I be afrayd
Of Cats in mine owne Country? I can never
Grow so Mouse-hearted. It is now a Calme
And no winde stirring, I can beare no sayle;
Good Morglay, my Comrague and Bedfellow
That never fayl'd me yet; I know thou did'st not.
If I be wak'd, see thou be stirring too;
Then come a Gib as big as Ascapært
VVe'l make him play at Leap-frog. A brave Souldiers lodging,
The floore my Bed, a Milstone for my Pillow,
The Sayles for Curtaynes. So good night.
Lyes downe.
Enter Mrs. Generous, Mall, all the VVitches and their Spirits (at severall dores.)
Mrs.
Is Nab come?
Mal.
Yes.
Mrs.
Where's Jug?
Mal.
On horseback yet,
Now lighting from her Broome-staffe.
Mrs.
But where's Peg?
Mal.
Entred the Mill already.
Mrs.
Is he fast?
Mal.
As sencelesse as a Dormouse.
Mrs.
Then to work, to work my pretty Laplands
Pinch, here, scratch,
Doe that within, without we'l keep the watch.
The Witches retire: the Spirits come about him with a dreadfull noise: he starts.
Sold.
Am I in Hell, then have among'st you divels;
This side, and that side, what behinde, before?
Ile keep my face unscratch'd dispight you all:
What, doe you pinch in private, clawes I feele
But can see nothing, nothing pinch me thus?
Have at you then, I and have at you still;
And stil have at you.
Beates them off, followes them in, and Enters againe.
One of them I have pay'd,
In leaping out oth' hole a foot or eare
Or something I have light on. What all gone?
All quiet? not a Cat that's heard to mew?
Nay then Ile try to take another nap,
Exit.
Enter Mr. Generous, and Robin.
Gen.
Robin, the last night that I lodg'd at home
My Wife (if thou remembrest) lay abroad,
But no words of that.
Rob.
You have taught me silence.
Gen.
I rose thus early much before my houre,
To take her in her bed; 'Tis not five:
The Sunne scarce up. Those horses take and lead 'em
Into the Stable, see them rubb'd and drest,
We have rid hard. Now in the interim I
Will step and see how my new Miller fares,
Or whether he slept better in his charge,
Than those which did precede him.
Rob.
Sir I shall.
Gen.
But one thing more—
Whispers.
Enter Arthur.
Arth.
Now from the last nights witchcraft we are freed.
And I that had not power to cleare my selfe
From base aspersion, am at liberty
For vow'd revenge: I cannot be at peace
(The night-spell being took of) till I have met
With noble Mr. Generous: in whose search
The best part of this morning I have spent,
His wife now I suspect.
Rob.
By your leave Sir.
Arth.
O y'are well met, pray tell me how long is't
Since you were first my Father?
Rob
Be patient I beseech you, what doe you meane Sir?
Arth.
But that I honour
Thy Master, to whose goodnesse I am bound,
And still must remaine thankfull, I should prove
VVorse then a Murderer, a meere Paricide
Rob.
I your Father? he was a man I alwayes lov'd
And honour'd. He bred me.
Arth.
And you begot me? oh you us'd me finely last night?
Gen.
Pray what's the matter Sir?
Arth.
My worthy friend, but that I honour you
As one to whom I am so much oblig'd,
This Villaine could not stirre a foot from hence
Till perisht by my sword.
Gener.
How hath he wrong'd you?
Be of a milder temper I intreat,
Relate what and when done?
Arth.
You may command me,
If aske me what wrongs, know this Groome pretends
He hath strumpeted my mother, if when, blaz'd
Last night at midnight. If you aske me further
Where, in your own house; when he pointed to me
As had I been his Bastard.
Rob.
I doe this? I am a horse agen if I got you, Master, why
Master.
Gen.
I know you Mr. Arthur, for a Gentleman
Of faire endowments, a most solid braine,
And setled understanding. Why this fellow
These two dayes was scarce sundred from my side,
And for the last night I am most assur'd
He slept within my Chamber, 12. miles off,
We have nere parted since.
Arth,
You tell me wonders.
Since all your words to me are Oracles,
And such as I most constantly beleeve.
But Sir, shall I be bold and plaine withall,
I am suspitious all's not well at home;
I dare proceed no farther without leave,
Yet there is something lodged within my breast
Which I am loath to utter.
Gen.
Keepe it there,
I pray doe a season (O my feares)
To open that your secret: Get you gone sir
And doe as I commanded.
Rob.
I shall Sir. Father quoth he
I should be proud indeed of such a sonne.
Exit.
Gen.
Please you now walk with me to my Mill, I faine would see
How my bold Soldier speeds. It is a place
Hath beene much troubled.
Enter Soldier.
Arth.
I shall waite on you.—See he appeares.
Gen.
Good morrow Soldier.
Sold.
A bad night I have had
A murrin take your Mill-sprights.
Gen.
Prithee tell me, hast thou bin frighted then?
Sold.
How frighted Sir,
A Doungcart full of Divels coo'd not do't.
But I have bin so nipt, and pull'd, and pinch'd,
By a company of Hell-cats.
Arth.
Fairies sure.
Sold.
Rather foule fiends, Fairies have no such clawes;
Yet I have kept my face whole thanks my Semiter,
My trusty Bilbo, but for which I vow,
I had been torne to pieces. But I thinke
I met with some of them. One I am sure
I have sent limping hence.
Gen.
Didst thou fasten upon any?
Sold.
Fast or loose, most sure I made them flye,
And skip out of the Port-holes. But the last
I made her squeake, she had forgot to mew,
I spoyl'd her Catter-wawling.
Arth.
Let's see thy sword.
Sold.
To look on, not to part with from my hand,
'Tis not the Soldiers custome.
Arth.
Sir, I observe 'tis bloody towards the point.
Sold.
If all the rest scape scot-free, yet I am sure
Gen.
Looke well about,
Lookes about and findes the hand.
Perhaps there may be seene some tract of bloud.
Sold.
What's here? is't possible Cats should have hands
And rings upon their fingers.
Arth.
Most prodigious.
Gen.
Reach me that hand.
Sold.
There's that of the three I can best spare.
Gen.
Amazement upon wonder, can this be;
I needs must know't by most infallible markes.
Is this the hand once plighted holy vowes,
And this the ring that bound them? doth this last age
Afford what former never durst beleeve?
O how have I offended those high powers?
That my great incredulity should merit
A punishment so grievous, and to happen
Vnder mine own roofe, mine own bed, my bosome.
Arth.
Know you the hand Sir?
Gen.
Yes and too well can reade it.
Good Master Arthur beare me company
Vnto my house, in the society
Of good men there's great solace.
Arth.
Sir Ile waite on you.
Gen.
And Soldier do not leave me, lock thy Mill,
I have imployment for thee.
Sold.
I shall sir, I think I have tickled some of your Tenants
at will, that thought to revell here rent-free; the best is if one of
the parties shall deny the deed, we have their hand to shew.
Exeunt.
A Bed thrust out, Mrs. Gener. in't; Whetstone, Mall Spencer by her.
Whet.
Why Aunt, deere Aunt, honey Aunt, how doe you,
how fare you, cheere you, how is't with you? you have bin a lusty
woman in your time, but now you look as if you could not doe
with all.
Mrs.
Good Mal let him not trouble me.
Mal.
Fie Mr. Whetstone you keep such a noise in the chamber
that your Aunt is desirous to take a little rest and cannot.
In my Vncles absence who but I should comfort my Aunt,
Am I not of the Bloud, am not I next of Kin?
Why Aunt?
Mrs. Gen
Good Nephew leave me.
VVhet.
The Divell shall leave you ere ile forsake you, Aunt,
you know, Sic is So, and being so sicke doe you thinke ile leave
you, what know I but this Bed may prove your death-bed, and
and then I hope you will remember me, that is, remember me
in your Will.—
(Knocke within.)
Who's that knocks with
such authority. Ten to one my Vncles come to towne.
Mrs. Gen.
If it be so, excuse my weaknes to him, say I can
speake with none.
Mal.
I will, and scape him if I can; by this accident all must
come out, and here's no stay for me—
(Knock again)
Againe,
stay you here with your Aunt, and ile goe let in your Vncle.
VVhet.
Doe good Mal, and how, and how sweet Aunt?
Enter Mr. Gener. Mal, Arthur, Soldier, and Robin.
Gen.
Y' are well met here, I am told you oft frequent
This house as my Wives choyse companion,
Yet have I seldome seene you.
Mal.
Pray, by your leave Sir,
Your wife is taken with a suddaine qualme
She hath sent me for a Doctor.
Gen.
But that labour ile save you, Soldier take her to your charge.
And now where's this sicke woman.
VVhet.
O Vncle you come in good time, my Aunt is so suddainly
taken as if she were ready to give up the spirit.
Gen.
'Tis almost time she did, speake how is't wife
My Nephew tels me you were tooke last night
With a shrewd sicknesse, which this Mayde confirmes.
Mrs.
Yes sir, but now desire no company.
Noyse troubles me, and I would gladly sleepe.
Gener.
In company there's comfort, prithee wife
Lend me thy hand, and let me feele thy pulse,
Perhaps some Feaver, by their beating I
Mrs. Gen.
My hand, 'tis there.
Gen.
A dangerous sicknes, and I feare t death,
'Tis oddes you will not scape it. Take that backe
And let me prove the t'other, if perhaps
I there can finde more comfort.
Mrs. Gen.
I pray excuse me.
Gener.
I must not be deny'd,
Sick folkes are peevish, and must be ore-rul'd, and so shall you.
Mrs. Gen.
Alas I have not strength to lift it up.
Gener.
If not thy hand Wife, shew me but thy wrist,
And see how this will match it, here's a Testate
That cannot be out-fac'd.
Mrs. Gener.
I am undone.
VVhet.
Hath my Aunt bin playing at handee dandee, nay then
if the game goe this way I feare she'l have the worst hand on't.
Arth.
'Tis now apparant
How all the last nights businesse came about,
In this my late suspicion, is confirm'd.
Gen.
My heart hath bled more for thy curst relapse
Than drops hath issu'd from thy wounded arme.
But wherefore should I preach to one past hope?
Or where the divell himselfe claimes right in all,
Seeke the least part or interest? Leave your Bed,
Vp, make you ready; I must deliver you
Into the hand of Iustice. O deare friend
It is in vaine to guesse at this my griefe
'Tis so inundant. Soldier take away that young
But old in mischiefe.
And being of these Apostat's rid so well,
Ile see my house no more be made a Hell.
Away with them.
Exeunt.
Enter Bantam, and Shakston.
Ban.
Ile out o' the Country, and as soone live in Lapland as
Lancashire hereafter.
What for a false illusive apparition? I hope the divell is
not able to perswade thee thou art a Bastard.
Bant.
No, but I am afflicted to thinke that the divell should
have power to put such a trick upon us, to countenance a Rascal,
that is one.
Shak.
J hope Arthur has taken a course with his Vncle about
him by this time, who would have thought such a foole as hee
could have beene a Witch?
Bant.
Why doe you thinke there's any wise folks of the quality;
Can any but fooles be drawne into a Covenant with the
greatest enemy of mankind? yet J cannot thinke that VVhetstone
is the Witch? The young Queane that was at the Wedding
was i'th house yee know.
Enter Lawrence and Parnell, in their first Habits.
Shak.
See Lawrence and Parnell civilly accorded againe it
seems, and accoutred as they were wont to be when they had
their wits.
Lawr.
Blest be the houre I say may hunny, may sweet Pall,
that Ay's becom'd thaine agone, and thou's becom'd maine agone,
and may this ea kisse ma us tway become both eane for ever
and a day.
Parn.
Yie marry Lall, and thus shadden it be, there is nought
getten by fawing out, we mun faw in or we get nought.
Bant.
The world's well mended here; we cannot but rejoyce
to see this, Lawrence.
Lawr.
And you been welcome to it Gentlemen.
Parn.
And we been glad we han it for you.
Shak.
And I protest I am glad to see it.
Parn.
And thus shan yeou see't till our deeing houre.
Ween eon leove now for a laife time, the Dewle shonot ha the
poore to put us to peeces agone.
Bant.
Why now all's right and straight and as it should be.
Lawr.
Yie marry that is it, the good houre be blessed for it,
that put the wit into may head, to have a mistrust of that pestilent
Codpeece-point, that the witched worch Mal Spencer go
Bant. & Shak.
Is't possible?
Parn.
Yie marry it were an Inchauntment, and about an
houre since it come intill our hearts to doe, what yeou thinke,
and we did it.
Bant.
What Parnell?
Parn.
Marry we take the point, and we casten the point into
the fire, and the point spitter'd and spatter'd in the fire, like
an it were (love blesse us) a laive thing in the faire; and it hopet
and skippet, and riggled, and frisket in the faire, and crept about
laike a worme in the faire, that it were warke enough for us
both with all the Chimney tooles to keepe it into the faire, and
it stinket in the faire, worsen than ony brimstone in the faire.
Bant.
This is wonderfull as all the rest.
Lawr.
It wolld ha scar'd ony that hadden their wits till a
seen't, and we werne mad eont it were deone.
Parn.
And this were not above an houre sine, and you connot
devaise how we han lov'd t'on t'other by now, yeou woud
een blisse your seln to see't.
Lawr.
Yie an han pit on our working geere, to swinke and
serve our Master and Maistresse like intill painfull servants agone,
as we shudden.
Bant.
'Tis wondrous well.
Shak.
And are they well agen?
Parn.
Yie and weel's laike heane blisse them, they are awas
weel becom'd as none ill had ever beene aneast 'hem; Lo ye, lo
ye, as they come.
Enter Seely, Ioane, Gregory and Win.
Greg.
Sir, if a contrite heart strucke through with sence
Of it's sharpe errors, bleeding with remorse
The blacke polluted staine it had conceived
Of foule unnaturall disobedience
May yet by your faire mercy finde Remission;
You shall upraise a Sonne out o'the gulph
Of horrour and despaire, unto a blisse
That shall for ever crowne your goodnesse, and
In all the duties that befit a sonne.
Seel.
Enough, enough, good boy, 'tis most apparant
We all have had our errors, and as plainly
It now appeares, our judgments, yea our reason
Was poyson'd by some violent infection,
Quite contrary to Nature.
Bant.
This sounds well.
Seely.
I feare it was by Witchcraft: for I now
(Blest be the power that wrought the happy means
Of my delivery) remember that
Some 3. months since I crost a wayward woman
(One that I now suspect) for bearing with
A most unseemly disobedience,
In an untoward ill-bred sonne of hers,
When with an ill looke and an hollow voyce
She mutter'd out these words. Perhaps ere long
Thy selfe shalt be obedient to thy sonne.
She has play'd her pranke it seemes.
Greg.
Sir I have heard, that Witches apprehended under
hands of lawfull authority, doe loose their power;
Seel.
If it be so, then at this happy houre,
The Witch is tane that over us had power.
Joane.
Enough Childe, thou art mine and all is well.
Win.
Long may you live the well-spring of my blisse,
And may my duty and my fruitfull Prayers,
Draw a perpetuall streame of blessings from you.
Seely.
Gentlemen welcome to my best friends house,
You know the unhappy cause that drew me hether.
Bant.
And cannot but rejoyce to see the remedy so neere at
hand.
Enter Doughty, Miller, and boy.
Dought.
Come Gossip, come Boy—Gentlemen you are
come to the bravest discovery—Mr. Seely and the rest, how
is't with you? you look reasonable well me thinkes.
Sir, we doe find that we have reason enough to thank
you for your Neighbourly and pious care of us.
Doughty.
Is all so well with you already? goe to, will you
know a reason for't Gentlemen: I have catcht a whole Kennel
of Witches. It seemes their Witch is one of 'hem, and so they
are discharm'd, they are all in Officers hands, and they will touch
here with two or three of them for a little private parley, before
they goe to the Iustices. Master Generous is comming hither
too, with a supply that you dreame not of, and your Nephew
Arthur.
Bant.
You are beholden Sir to Master Generous in behalfe of
your Nephew for saving his land from forfeiture in time of
your distraction.
Seely.
I will acknowledge it most thankfully.
Shak.
See he comes.
Enter Mr. Generous, Mrs. Generous, Arthur, Whetstone, Mal, Soldier, and Robin.
Seel.
O Mr. Generous, the noble favour you have shew'd
My Nephew for ever bindes me to you.
Gener.
I pittyed then your misery, and now
Have nothing left but to bewayle mine owne
In this unhappy woman.
Seel.
Good Mistresse Generous—
Arth.
Make a full stop there Sir, sides, sides, make sides,
You know her not as I doe, stand aloofe there Mistresse with
your darling Witch, your Nephew too if you please, because
though he be no witch, he is a wel-willer to the infernal science.
Gener.
I utterly discard him in her blood
And all the good that I intended him
I will conferre upon this vertuous Gentleman.
Whet.
Well Sir, though you be no Vnckle, yet mine Aunt's
mine Aunt, and shall be to her dying day.
Doug.
And that will be about a day after next Sizes I take it,
Enter Witches, Constable, and Officers.
O here comes more o' your Naunts, Naunt Dickenson & Naunt
a good fire to entertaine 'em.
Arth.
See how they lay their heads together?
Witches charme together.
Gill.
No succour.
Maud.
No reliefe.
Peg.
No comfort!
All.
Mawsy, my Mawsy, gentle Mawsy come,
Maud.
Come my sweet Puckling.
Peg.
My Mamilion.
Arth.
What doe they say?
Bant.
They call their Spirits I thinke.
Dought.
Now a shame take you for a fardell of fooles, have
you knowne so many of the Divels tricks, and can be ignorant
of that common feate of the old Iugler; that is, to leave you all
to the Law, when you are once seized on by the tallons of Authority?
Ile undertake this little Demigorgon Constable with
these Common-wealth Characters upon his staffe here, is able
inspite of all your bugs-words, to stave off the grand Divell for
doing any of you good till you come to his Kingdome to him,
and there take what you can finde.
Arth.
But Gentlemen, shall we try if we can by examination
get from them something that may abbreviate the cause unto
the wiser in Commission for the peace before wee carry them
before 'em.
Gen. & Seel.
Let it be so.
Dought.
Well say, stand out Boy, stand out Miller, stand out
Robin, stand out Soldier, and lay your accusation upon 'em.
Bant.
Speake Boy doe you know these Creatures, women I
dare not call 'em?
Boy.
Yes Sir, and saw them all in the Barne together, and many
more at their Feast and Witchery.
Rob.
And so did I, by a Divellish token, J was rid thither,
though I rid home againe as fast without switch or spur.
Mill.
I was ill handled by them in the Mill.
Sold.
And I sliced off a Cats foot there, that is since a hand,
who ever wants it.
Seel.
How I and all my family have suffered you all know.
Lawr.
And how I were betwitched my Pall, here knowes.
Parn.
Yie Lall, and the Witch I knaw, an I prayen yeou goe
Bant.
Hold Parnell.
Parn.
Yeou can blame no honest woman, I trow, to scrat
for the thing she leoves.
Mal.
Ha, ha, ha.
Dough.
Doe you laugh Gentlewoman? what say you to all
these matters?
Mrs. Gen.
I will say nothing, but what you know you know,
And as the law shall finde me let it take me.
Gil.
And so say I.
Mawd.
And I.
Mal.
And J, other confession you get none from us.
Arth.
What say you Granny?
Peg.
Mamilion, ho Mamilion, Mamilion.
Arth.
Who's that you call?
Peg.
My friend, my Sweet-heart, my Mamilion.
Witches.
You are not mad?
Dought.
Ah ha, that's her Divell, her Incubus I warrant; take
her off from the rest they'l hurt her. Come hether poore old
woman. Ile dandle a Witch a little, thou wilt speake, and tell
the truth, and shalt have favour doubt not. Say art not thou a
Witch?
They storme.
Peg.
'Tis folly to dissemble yie sir, I am one.
Dought.
And that Mamilion which thou call'st upon
Is thy familiar Divell is't not? Nay prithee speake.
Peg.
Yes Sir.
Dough.
That's a good woman, how long hast had's acquaintance, ha?
Peg.
A matter of sixe yeares Sir.
Dought.
A pretty matter. What was he like a man?
Peg.
Yes when I pleas'd.
Dought.
And then he lay with thee, did he not sometimes?
Peg.
Tis folly to dissemble; twice a Weeke he never fail'd me.
Dough.
Humh—and how? and how a little? was he a good
Bedfellow?
Peg.
Tis folly to speake worse of him than he is.
Dough.
I trust me is't. Give the Divell his due.
Peg.
He pleas'd me well Sir, like a proper man.
Dought.
There was sweet coupling.
Peg.
Onely his flesh felt cold.
He wanted his great fires about him that he has at home.
Dough.
Peace, and did he weare good clothes?
Peg.
Gentleman like, but blacke blacke points and all.
Dought.
I, very like his points were blacke enough. But come
we'l trifle w'yee no longer. Now shall you all to the Iustices,
and let them take order with you till the Sizes, and then let Law
take his course, and Uivat Rex. Mr. Generous I am sorry for
your cause of sorrow, we shall not have your company?
Gener.
No sir, my Prayers for her soules recovery.
Shall not be wanting to her, but mine eyes
Must never see her more.
Rob.
Mal, adiew sweet Mal, ride your next journey with
the company you have there.
Mal.
Well Rogue I may live to ride in a Coach before I
come to the Gallowes yet.
Rob.
And Mrs. the horse that stayes for you rides better with
a Halter than your gingling bridle.
Exeunt Gen. & Robin.
Dought.
Mr. Seely I rejoyce for your families attonement.
Seel.
And I praise heaven for you that were the means to it.
Dough.
On afore Drovers with your untoward Cattell.
Exeunt severally.
Bant.
Why doe not you follow Mr. By-blow. I thanke your
Aunt for the tricke she would have father'd us withall.
Whet.
Well Sir, mine Aunt's mine Aunt, and for that trick I
will not leave her till I see her doe a worse.
Bant.
Y'are a kinde Kinsman.
Exeunt.
Flourish.
| The late Lancashire VVitches | |