University of Virginia Library

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,
How doth my Daughter relish you of late?
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
To lodge without companion in that Bed,
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,
Let all your anger then conclude in this,
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
And burne out this nights hell.

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,
And yet I will not; I'me no whit dismay'd,
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,
And single; I will to her, what would you have me
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.