 | The Witch |  |
Scea. Prima.
Enter Sebastian, & Fernando.Seb.
My three yeeres spent in War, has now vndon
my peace for ever.
Fer.
Good; be patient, Sir
Seb.
She is my Wife by Contract before Heaven,
and all the Angells, Sir.
Fer.
J doe beleeue you;
but where's the remedie now? you see She's gon:
an other has possession
Seb.
ther's the torment.
Fer.
This day, being the first of yor Returne
vnluckely proves the first too of her fastning
her Vncle (Sir) the Gouernor of Rauenna
holding a good opinion of the Bride-groome
as he's faire-spoken (Sir) and wondrous mild.
Seb.
there goes the Devill, in a Sheepe-skyn.
Fer.
with all speed
clap'd-it vp sodainely: J cannot thinck, (sure)
that the Maid over-loves him: though being Married
perhaps (for her owne Creadit) now She intends
performance of an honest duteous wife.
Seb.
Sir: J'ue a world of Busynes; question nothing;
You will but loose your Labour, 'tis not fitt
for any (hardly mine owne secrecie)
to know what J intend: J take my Leave (Sir)
J find such strange Employments in myselfe
that vnles Death pitty-me, and lay me downe
J shall not sleepe theis seaven-yeeres: that's the least (Sir)
—Ex
Fer.
that Sorrow's dangerous can abide no Councell
'tis like a wound past Cure; Wrongs don to Loue
4
but the poore-sencible-Sufferer, whom it racks
with vn-beleived-Paines, which Men in health,
that-enioy Love, not possibly can Act;
(nay not so much as thinck:) in troth J pitty him;
His Sighes drinck life-Blood-in, this time of Feasting:
A Banquet towards too? Not yet hath Riott
plaid-out her last Sceane? At such Enterteynements, still
Forgetfullnes obeys, and Surfeyt governes;
Heer's Marriage sweetely honourd, in gorg'd Stomachs,
—Enter Gaspero, & Serut.
and over-flowing Cupps.
Gas.
Where is she (Sirha?)
Ser.
not farr-off.
Gas.
pree-thee where? goe fetch her hether:
J'll ridd-him away straight: The King's now rissen (Sir)
Fer.
J am a ioyfull Man to heare it (Sir)
it seemes h'as drunck the lesse: though J thinck he
that has the least, h'as certenly enough.
—Exit
Gas.
J haue obseru'd this Fellow all the Feast-time
he hath not pledg'd one Cup, but lookd most wickedly
vpon good Malego, flyes to the Black-Jack still
—Enter Florida.
and sticks to small drinck like a Water-Rat
Oh; here She comes: alas the poore Whore weepes,
'tis not for Grace now, all the world must iudge:
Jt is for Spleene, and madnes 'gainst this Marriage:
J doe but thinck how she could beat the Vicar now,
scratch the Man horribly, that gave the woman,
the woman worst of all, if she durst doe it.
Why how now (Mistris) this weeping needs not, for though
my Master Marry for his Reputation,
He meanes to keepe you too.
Flo.
how Sir?
Gas.
he do'th, indeed.
he swore't to me, last night: are you so simple
(and haue byn five yeeres traded?) as to thinck
one Woman would serve him? fye; not an Empresse;
5
or never trust my Judgement.
Flo.
will he, thinck'st thou?
Gas.
will he?
Flo.
J find thee still so comfortable
beshrew my hart, if J knew how to misse thee:
they talk of Gentlemen, Perfumers, and such things;
give me the kindnes of the Master's-Man
in my distresse, say J.
Gas.
'tis your great Love (forsooth)
'please You with-draw your self to yond privat Parlor,
J'll send you Venson, Custard, Pasnip-pie
For Banquetting-stuff (as Sucketts, Jellyes, Sirrups)
J will bring in my self.
Flo.
J'll take 'em kindly. Sir)
—Exit
Gas.
Sh'as your grand-Strumpetts Complement to a tittle.
'tis a faire Building: it had need; it has
iust at this time some one, and twenty Jn-mates:
but half of 'em are yong Merchants; they'll depart shortly.
(they take but Romes for Som̄er, and away they,
when 't growes fowle-weather) mary then Come the Tearmers
and comonly they're well booted for all seasons.
—Enter Almachildes & Amoretta.
But peace: noe more: the Guests are com̄ing-in
Al.
the Fates haue blessd me; haue J mett you privatly?
Am.
why Sir? why Almachildes?
Al.
not a kisse.
Am.
J'll call alowd, y'-faith.
Al.
J'll stopp your mouth.
Am.
vpon my love to reputation
J'll tell the Duchesse, once more,
Al.
'tis the way to make her laugh a litle.
Am.
She'll not thinck
that you dare vse a Maid of Honou r thus.
Al.
Amsterdam swallow thee for a Puritaine
and Geneua cast thee vp againe, like She that sunck
at Charing-crosse, and rose againe at Queene hith
6
J theis are the holly fruites of the sweete Vine, Sir.—
Al.
Sweet Venery be with thee, and J at the taile
of my wish: J am a litle head-strong, and soe
are most of the Company: J will to the Witches:
they say they haue Charmes, & Tricks to make
—Enter Duke, Duchess, L. Gouernor, Antonio, & Isabella Francisca.
a wench fall backwards, and lead a man herself
to a Cuntry-house, some mile out of the Towne,
like a Fire-drake: there be such whorson kind
Girles, and such bawdy Witches, and J'll try
conclusions.
Duke.
A Bancket yet? why surely (my Lord Gouernor,
Bacchus could never boast of a day till now
to spread his powre, and make his Glory knowne.
Duch.
Sir: y'haue don nobely; though in modestie
you keepe it from vs, know we vnderstand so much
All this daies Cost, 'tis your great Love bestowes
in honor of the Bride, your vertuous Neice.
Gou.
Jn love to Goodnes, and your presence (Madam)
so vnderstood, 'tis rightly
Du:
now will J
have a strange health after all theis
Gou.
what's that (my Lord?)
Du.
a Health in a strange Cup; and 't shall goe round.
Gou.
Your Grace need not doubt that (Sir) having seene
so many pledg'd already: this faire Company
cannot shrinck now for one: so it end there.
Du.
Jt shall: for all ends here: heere's a full period.
Gou.
a Skull (my Lord?)
Du.
Call it a Souldiers-Cup (Man)
fye how you fright the Women? J haue sworne
it shall goe round, excepting onely you (Sir)
for your late Sicknes, and the Bride herself,
whose Health it is.
Jsa.
mary' J thanck heaven for that.
Du.
Our Duchesse, J know will pledge vs, though the Cup
was once her Fathers head; Which as a Trophee
7
He was the greatest Foe, our Steele ere strook-at,
and he was bravely slayne; then tooke we thee
into our bosomes-Love: thou madest the Peace
for all thy Cuntry: thou: that Beutie did
we'are deerer then a Father? are We not
Duch.
Yes (Sir) by much.
Du.
and we shall find that straight
Ant.
that's an ill Bride-Cup, for a Marriage-day,
J doe not like the Fate-on't.
Gou.
good my Lord
the Duchesse lookes pale: Let her not pledge you there.
Du.
pale?
Duch.
Sir, not J.
Du.
Se how your Lordship Failes now;
the Rose' not fresher; nor the Sun at rising
more comfortably pleasing
Duch.
Sir, to you,
the Lord of this daies honor.
Ant.
all first moving
from your grace (Madam) and the Dukes great Fauor;
Sister it must.
Fran.
this' the worst Fright that could come,
to a conceald great Belly: J'me with Child,
and this will bring it out, Or make me Come
some seaven weekes sooner then we Maidens reckon.
Duch.
did ever cruell, barbarous Act, match this?
twice hath his Surfeytes brought my Fathers Memory
thus spight fully, and scorne fully to mine Eies,
and J'll endure't no more: 'tis in my hart since:
J'll be reveng'd, as far as death can lead me.
Al.
Am J the last man then? J may deserve
to be first one daie.
Gou.
Sir, it 'has gon round now.
8
the round? an excellent way to trayne-vp Soldiers.
where's Bride, and Bride-groome?
An.
at your happie service.
Du.
a Boy to night at least: J charge you looke to't
or J'll renounce you for industrious Subiects.
An.
your Grace speakes like a worthie, and tryde Soldiers.
—Ext.
Gasp.
And you'll doe well, for one that nere tost-Pike (Sir)
—Exit
| The Witch | |