The late Lancashire vvitches A well received comedy, lately acted at the Globe on the Banke-side, by the Kings Majesties Actors. Written, by Thom. Heyvvood, and Richard Broome.

ACTVS, II. SCAENA, I. (Book 2)

Enter 4. VVitches: (severally.)

All.

HOe! well met, well met. Meg. VVhat new devise, what dainty straine More for our myrth now then our gaine, Shall we in practice put.

Meg.

Nay dame, Before we play another game. VVe must a little laugh and thanke Our feat familiars for the pranck They playd us last.

Mawd.

Or they will misse Vs in our next plot, if for this They find not their reward.

Meg.

'Tis right.

Gil.

Therefore sing Mawd, and call each spright. Come away, and take thy duggy,

Enter foure Spirits.

Meg.

Come my Mamilion like a Puggy,

Mawd.

And come my puckling take thy teat, Your travels have deserv'd your meat.

Meg.

Now upon the Churles ground On which we're met, lets dance a round; That Cocle, Darnell, Poppia wild, May choake his graine, and fill the field.

Gil.

Now spirits fly about the taske, That we projected in our Maske.

Exit Spirits.

Meg.

Now let us laugh to thinke upon The feat which we have so lately done, In the distraction we have set In Seelyes house; which shall beget VVonder and sorrow 'mongst our fo•…•…s,

VVhil•…•…t we make laughter of their woes.

All.

Ha, ha, ha!

M•…•…g.

I can but laugh now to foresee, The fruits of their perplexity.

Gil.

Of •…•…eely's family?

Meg.

I, I, I, the Father to the Sonne doth cry, The Sonne rebukes the Father old; The Daughter at the mother Scold, The wife the husband check and chide, But that's no wonder, through the wide VVorld 'tis common.

Gil.

But to be short, The w•…•…dding must bring on the sport Betwixt the hare-brayn'd man and mayd, Master and dame that over-sway'd.

All.

Ha, ha, ha!

Meg.

Enough, enough, Our sides are charm'd, or else this stuffe VVould laughter-cracke them; let's away About the Iig. we dance to day, To spoyle the Hunters sport.

Gil.

I that, be now the subject of our chat.

Meg.

Then list yee well, the Hunters are This day by vow to kill a Hare, Or else the sport they will forsweare; And hang their Dogs up.

Mawd.

Stay, but where Must the long threatned hare be found?

Gill.

They'l search in yonder Meadow ground.

Meg.

There will Ibe, and like a wily VVat, Vntill they put me up; ile squat.

Gill.

I and my puckling will a brace Of Greyhounds be, fit for the race; And linger where we may be tane Vp for the course in the by-lane; Then will we lead th•…•…ir Dogs a course, And every man and every horse; Vntill they breake their necks, and say—

All.

The Divell on Dun is rid this way. Ha. ha, ha, ha.

Meg.

All the doubt can be but this, That if by chance of me they misse, And start another Hare.

Gil.

Then we'll not run But finde some way how to be gone. I shal know thee Peg, by thy grissel'd gut,

Meg.

And I you Gilian by your gaunt thin gut. But where will Mawd bestow her selfe today?

Mawd.

O' th' Steeple top; Ile sit & see you play.

Ex•…•…unt.

Enter Mr. Generous, Arthur, Ba•…•…tam, Shakstone, and VVhetstone.

Gener.

At meeting, and at parting Gentlemen, I onely make use of that generall word, So frequent at all feasts, and that but once; y'are welcome. You are so, all of you, and I intreat you Take notice of that speciall businesse, Betwixt this Gentleman my friend, and I. About the Morgage, to which writings drawne, Your hands are witnesse.

Baxt. & Shak.

VVe acknowledge it.

VVhet.

My hand is there too, for a man cannot set to his Marke, but it may be call'd his hand; I am a Gentleman both wayes, and it hath been held that it is the part of a Gentleman, to write a scurvie hand.

Bant.

You write Sir like your selfe.

Gener.

Pray take no notice of his ignorance, You know what I foretold you.

Arth.

'Tis confest, but for that word by you so seldome spoke By us so freely on your part perform'd, VVe hold us much ingag'd.

Gener.

I pray, no complement, It is a thing I doe not use my selfe, Nor doe I love 't in others.

Art•…•….

For my part, could I at once dissolve my selfe to words And after turne them into matter; such

And of that strength, as to attract the attention Of all the curious, and most itching eares Of this our Crittick age; it cou'd not make A theame amounting to your noble worth: You seeme to me to super-arrogate, Supplying the defects of all your kindred To innob le your own name: I now have done Sir.

VVhet.

Hey day, this Gentleman speakes likes a Country Parson that had tooke his text out of Ovids Metamorphosis.

Gener.

Sir, you Hyperbolize; And I coo'd chide you for't, but whil'st you connive At this my Kinsman, I shall winke at you; 'Twil prove an equall match.

Gener.

Your name proclaimes To be such as it speakes, you, Generous.

Gener.

Still in that straine!

Arth.

Sir, sir, whilst you persever to be good I must contiuue gratefull.

Gener.

Gentlemen, the gr•…•…atest part of this day you see is spent In reading deeds, conveyances, and bonds, VVith sealing and subscribing; will you now Take part of a bad Supper.

Arth.

VVe are like travellers And where such bayt, they doe not use to Inne. Our love and service to you.

Gener.

The first I accept, The Last I entertaine not, farewell Gentlemen.

Arth.

VVe'l try if we can finde in our way home VVhen Hares come from their coverts, to reliffe, A course or too.

VVhet.

Say you so Gentlemen, nay then I am for your compa∣ny still, 'tis sayd Hares are like Hermophrodites, one while Male, and another Female, and that which begets this yeare, brings young ones the next; which some think to be the reason that witches take their shapes so oft: Nay if I lye Pliny lyes too, but come, now I have light upon you, I cannot so lightly leave you farewell Vnckle.

Gener.

Cozen I wish you would consort your selfe, With such men ever, and make them your President, For a more Gentile carriage.

Arth.

Good Master Generous—

Exeunt, manet Ge∣nerous.

Enter Robert.

Gen.

Robin.

Rob.

Sir.

Gen.

Goe call your Mistresse hither.

Rob.

My Mistresse Sir, I doe call her Mistresse, as I do•…•… call you Master, but if you would have me call my Mistresse to my Master, I may call lowd enough before she can heare me.

Gener.

Why she's not deafe I hope, I am sure since Dinn•…•…r She had her hearing perfect.

Rob.

And so she may have at Supper too for ought I know, but I can assure you she is not now within my call.

Gener.

Sirrah you trifle, give me the Key oth' Stable, I will goe see my Gelding; i' th' meane time Goe seeke her out, say she shall finde me there.

Rob.

To tell you true sir, I shall neither finde my Mistresse here, nor you your Gelding there.

Gener.

Ha! how comes that to passe?

Rob.

Whilst you were busie about your writings, she came and commanded me to saddle your Beast, and sayd she would ride abroad to take the ayre.

Gener.

Which of your fellowes did she take along to wayte on her?

Rob.

None sir.

Gener.

None! hath she us'd it often?

Rob.

Oftner I am sure then she goes to Church, and leave out Wednesdayes and Fridayes.

Gener.

And still alone?

Rob.

If you call that alone, when no body rides in her company.

Gen.

But what times hath she sorted for these journeyes?

Rob.

Commonly when you are abroad, and sometimes when you are full of businesse at home.

Gener.

To ride out often and alone, what sayth she When she takes horse, and at her backe returne?

Rob.

Onely conjures me that I shall keepe it from you, then clappes me in the fist with some small piece of silver, and then a

Fish cannot be more silent then I.

Gen.

I know her a good woman and well bred, Of an unquestion'd carriage, well reputed Amongst her neighbors, reckon'd with the best And ore me most indulgent; though in many Such things might breed a doubt and jealousie, Yet I hatch no such phrensie. Yet to prevent The smallest jarre that might betwixt us happen; Give her no notice that I know thus much. Besides I charge thee, when she craves him next He be deny'd: if she be vext or mov'd Doe not thou feare, Ile interpose my selfe Betwixt thee and her anger, as you tender Your duty and my service, see this done.

Rob.

Now you have exprest your minde, I know what I have to doe; first, not to tell her what I have told you &, next to keep her side-saddle from comming upon your Gueldings backe; but how soever it is like to hinder me of many a round tester.

Gener.

As oft as thou deny'st her, so oft clayme That teaster from me, 't shall be roundly payd.

Rob.

You say well in that sir, I dare take your word, you are an honest Gentleman, and my Master; and now •…•…ake mine as I am your true servant, before she shall backe your Guelding a∣gain in your absence, while I have the charge of his keeping; she shall ride me, or Ile ri•…•…e her.

Gen.

So much for that. Sirrah my Butler tels me My Seller is drunke dry, I meane those Bottles Of Sack and Claret, are all empty growne And I have guests to morrow, my choyse friends. Take the gray Nag i'th' stable, and those Bottles Fill at Lancaster, There where you use to fetch it.

Rob.

Good newes for me, I shall sir.

Gen.

O Robin, it comes short of that pure liquor We drunke last Terme in London at the Myter In Fleet-street, thou remembrest it; me thought It was the very spirit of the Grape,

Meere quintessence of Wine.

Rob.

Yes sir, I so remember it, that most certaine it is I ne∣ver shal forget it, my mouth waters ever since when I but think on't, whilst you w•…•…re at supper above, the drawer had me down into the Cellar below, I know the way in againe if I see't, but at that time to finde the way out againe, I had the help of more eies than mine owne: is the taste of that Ipsitate s•…•…il in your pal∣lat sir?

Gener.

What then? But vaine are wishes, take those bottles And see them fil'd where I command you sir.

Rob.

I shall: never c'ud I have met with such a faire oppor∣tunitie: for iust in the mid way lies my sweet-heart, as lovely a lasse as any is in Lancashire, and kisses as sweetly 〈◊〉〈◊〉 see her go∣ing or comming, i'le have one smouch at thy lips, and bee with thee to bring Mal Spencer.

Exit.

Gen.

Go hasten your return, what he hath told me Touching my wife is somewhat strange, no matter Bee't as it will, it shall not trouble me. Shee hath not lyen so long so neere my side, That now I should be jealous.

Enter a souldier.

Sold.

You seeme sir a Gentleman of quality, and no doubt but in your youth have beene acquainted with affaires military, in your very lookes there appeares bounty, and in your person hu∣manity. Please you to vouchsafe the tender of some small cour∣tesie to help to beare a souldier into his countrey.

Gen.

Though I could tax you friend, & justly too For begging 'gainst the Statute in that name, Yet I have ever bin of that compassion, Where I see want, rather to pittie it Than to use power. Where hast thou serv'd?

Sold.

With the Russian against the Polack, a heavy war, and hath brought me to this hard fate. I was tooke prisoner by the Pole, & after some few weeks of durance, got both my freedom and passe. I have it about me to show, please you to vou•…•…ase the perusall.

Gener.

It shall not need. What Countreyman.

Sold.

Yorkeshire sir. Many a sharp battell by land, and ma∣ny a sharpe storme at sea, many a long mile, and many a short meale, I have travel'd and suffer'd ere I c'ud reach thus far, I 〈◊〉〈◊〉 you sir take my poore & wretched case into your wor∣ships noble consideration.

Gener.

Perhaps thou lov'st this wandring life To be an idle loitering begger, than To eat of thine owne labour.

Sold.

I sir! Loitering I defie sir, I hate lazinesse as I do lepro∣sie: It is the next way to breed the scurvie, put mee to hedge, ditch, plow, thresh, dig, delve, any thing: your worship shal find that •…•… love nothing lesse than •…•…oitering.

Gener.

Friend thou speakest well.

Enter Miller (his •…•…ands and face scratcht, and bloudy.

Miller.

Your Mill quoth he, if ever you take me in your mill againe, i'le give you leave to cast my flesh to the dogges, and grinde my flesh to pouder, betwixt the Milstones. Cats do you call them, for their hugenesse they might bee cat a mountaines, and for their clawes, I thinke I have it here in red and white to sh•…•…w, •…•… pray looke here sir, a murreine take them, ile be sworne they have 〈◊〉〈◊〉, where I am •…•…ure it itcht not.

Gener.

How cam'st thou in this pickle?

Ml.

Yoiu see sir, and what you see, I have felt, & am come to give you to unde•…•…stand i'le not indure such another night if you would give mee your mill for nothing, they say we Millers are theeves: but I c'ud as soone bee hangd as steale one piece of a •…•…ap all the night long, good Landlord provide your selfe of a new tenant, the noise of such catterwawling, & such scratching and clawing, before I would indure againe, i'le bee tyed to the •…•…aile when the winde blowes sharpest, and they flie swiftest, till I be torne into as many fitters as I have toes and fingers.

Sold.

I was a Miller my selfe before I was a souldier. What one of my own trade should be so poorely spirited frighted with cats?

Sir trust me with the Mill that he forsakes. H•…•…re is a blade that hangs upon this belt 〈◊〉〈◊〉 spight of all these Rats, Cats, Wezells, Witches

Or Dogges, or Divels, Shall so coniure them I'le quiet my possession.

Gener.

Well spoke Souldier. I like thy resolution▪ Fellow, you then Have given the Mill quite over.

Mil.

Over and over, here I utterly renounce it; nor would I stay in it longer, if you would give me your whole estate; nay if I say it, you may take my word Landlord.

Sold.

I pray sir dare you trust your mill with me.

Gener.

I dare, but I am loth, my reasons these. For many •…•…oneths, scarce any one hath lien there But have bin strangely frighted in his sleepe, Or from his warme bed drawne into the floore, Or clawd and scratcht, as thou seest this poore man, So much, that it stood long untenanted, Till he late undertooke it, now thine eies Witnesse how he hath sped.

Sold.

Give me the keies, ile stand it all danger.

Gener.

'Tis a match: deliver them.

Mil.

Mary withall my heart, and I am glad, I am so rid of em.

Exeunt.

Enter Boy with a switch.

Boy.

Now I have gathered Bullies, and fild my bellie pretty well, i'le goe see some sport. There are gentlemen coursing in the medow hard by; and 'tis a game that I love better than go∣ing to Schoole ten to one.

Enter an invisible spirit. I. Adson with a brace of grey∣hounds.

What have we here a brace of Greyhounds broke loose from their masters: it must needs be so, for they have both their Col∣lers and slippes about their neckes. Now I looke better upon them, me thinks I should know them, and so I do: these are Mr. Robinsons dogges, that dwels some two miles off, i'le take them up, & lead them home to their master; it may be somthing in my way, for he is as liberall a gentleman, as any is in our countrie, Come Hector, come. Now if I c'ud but start a Hare by the way, •…•…ill her, and carry her home to my supper, I should thinke •…•… had

made a better afternooones worke of it than gathering of bu•…•…∣lies. Come poore curres along with me.

Exit.

Enter Arthur, Bantam, Shakstone, and Whestone.

Arth.

My Dog as yours.

Shak.

For what?

Arth.

A piece.

Shak.

'Tis done.

Bant.

I say the pide dog shall outstrip the browne.

Whe.

And ile take the brown dogs partagainst the pide

Bant.

Yes when hee's at his lap •…•…oule take his part.

Arth.

Bantam forbeare him prethee.

Bant.

He talks so like an Asse I have not patience to indure his non sence.

Whet.

The browne dogge for two peeces.

Bant.

Of what?

Whet.

Of what you dare; name them from the last 〈◊〉〈◊〉 with the double rings, to the late Coy'nd 〈◊〉〈◊〉 which they say are all counterfeit.

Bant.

Well sir, I take 〈◊〉〈◊〉: will •…•…ou cover these, give them in∣to the hands of either of those two gentlemen.

Whet.

What needs that? doe you thinke my word and my money is not all one?

Bant.

And weigh alike: both many graines too light.

〈◊〉〈◊〉▪

Enough of that, I presume Mr. Whetstone, you are not 〈◊〉〈◊〉 what belongs to the sport of hunting.

Whet.

I thinke I have reason, for I have bin at the death of more 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

Bant.

More then you shed the last fall of the leafe.

〈◊〉〈◊〉.

More then any man here I am sure. I should be loath at these yeares to be ignorant of hairing or whoring. I kn•…•…w a hare close hunred, clime a tree.

Bant.

To finde out birds 〈◊〉〈◊〉

Whet.

Another 〈◊〉〈◊〉 into a river, nothing appearing above water, save onely the tip of her nose to take breath.

〈◊〉〈◊〉

Nay that's verie likely, for no man can fish with an 〈◊〉〈◊〉 but his Line must be made of hare.

W•…•…et.

You say right, I kn•…•…w another, who to escape the Dogges hath taken a house, and leapt in at a window.

Bant.

It is thought you came into the World that way.

Whet.

How meane you that?

Bant.

Because you are a bastard.

Whet.

Bastard! O base.

Bant.

And thou art base all over.

Arth.

Needs must I now condemne your indiscretion, To set your wit against his.

Whet.

Bastard? that shall be tried; well Gentlemen con∣cerning Hare-hunting you might have hard more, if he had had the grace to have said lesse, but for the word Bastard, if I do not tell my Vncle, I and my Aunt too, either when I would speake ought or goe of the s•…•…ore for any thing, let me never be trusted, they are older than I, and what know I, but they might bee by when I was begot; but if thou Bantam do'st not heare of this with both thine eares, if thou hast them still, and not lost them by scribling, instead of Whet-stone call me Grind•…•…-stone, and for By-bl•…•…w, Bulfinch. Gentlemen, for two of you your companie is faire and honest; but for you Bantam, remember and take no∣tice also, that I am a bastard, and so much i'le testifie to my Aunt and Vncle.

Exit.

Arth.

What have you done, 'twill gri•…•…ve the good old Gen∣tleman, to heare him baffled thus.

Bant.

I was in a cold sweat ready to faint The time he staid amongst us.

Shak.

But come, now the Hare is found and started▪ She shall have Law, so to our sport.

Exit.

Enter Boy with the Greyhounds.

A Hare, a Hare, hall•…•…e, halloe, the Divell take these curres, will they not stir, halloe, halloe, there, there, there, what are they growne so lither and so lazie? Are Mr. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 dogges turn'd tykes with a wanion? the Hare is yet in sigh•…•…, halloe, halloe, mary hang you •…•…or a couple of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 (i•…•… you were worth hā∣ging, & have you serv'd me thus? 〈◊◊◊〉〈◊◊◊〉 •…•…erve you with the like sauce, you shall to the next bush, there will I 〈◊〉〈◊〉 you, and use you like a couple of curs as you are, & tho•…•…gh not lash you, yet

lash you whilest my switch will hold, nay since you have left your speed, ile see if I can put spirit into you, and put you in re∣membrance what halloe, halloe meanes.

As he beats them, there appeares before him, Gooddy Dic∣kison, and the Boy upon the dogs, going in.

Now blesse me heaven, one of the Greyhounds turn'd into a woman, the other into a boy! The lad I never saw before, but her I know well; it is my gammer Dickison.

G. Dick.

Sirah, you have serv'd me well to swindge me thus. You yong rogue, you have vs'd me like a dog.

Boy.

When you had put your selfinto a dogs skin, I pray how c'ud I help it; but gammer are not you a Witch? if you bee, I beg upon my knees you will not hurt me.

Dickis.

Stand up my boie, for thou shalt have no harme, Be silent, speake of nothing thou hast seene. And here's a shilling for thee.

Boy.

Ile have none of your money gammer, because you are a Witch: and now she is out of her foure leg'd shape, ile see if with my two legs I can out-run her.

Dickis.

Nay sirra, though you be yong, and I old, you are not so nimble, nor I so lame, but I can overtake you.

Boy.

But Gammer what do you meane to do with me Now you have me?

Dickis.

To hugge thee, stroke thee, and embrace thee thus, And teach thee twentie thousand prety things. So thou tell no tales; and boy this night Thou must along with me to a brave feast.

Boy.

Not I gammer indeedla, I dare not stay ont late, My father is a fell man, and if I bee out long, will both chide and beat me.

Dickis.

Not sirra, then perforce thou shalt along, This bridle helps me still at need, And shall provide us of a steed. Now sirra, take your shape and be Prepar'd to hurrie him and me. Now looke and tell mee wher's the lad become.

Exit.

Boy.

The boy is vanisht, and I can see nothing in his stead

But a white horse redie sadled and bridled.

Dickis.

And thats the horse we must bestride, On which both tho•…•… and I must ride, Thou boy before and I behinde, The earth we tread not, but the winde, For we must progresse through the aire, And I will bring thee to such fare As thou ne're saw'st, up and away, For now no longer we can stay.

She catches him up, & turnin•…•… round▪ 〈◊〉〈◊〉

Boy.

Help, help.

Enter Robin and Mall.

Thanks my sweet Mall for thy courteous entertainment, thy creame, thy cheese-cakes, and every good thing, this, this, & this for all.

kisse.

Mal.

But why in such hast good Robin?

Robin.

I confesse my stay with thee is sweet to mee, but I must spur Cutt the faster for't, to be at home in the morning, I have yet to Lancaster to ride to night, and this my 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of bottles, to fill to night, and then halfe a score mile to ride by cur∣rie-combe time, i'the morning, or the old man chides Mal.

Mal.

Hee shall not chide thee, feare it not.

Robin.

Pray Bacchus I may please him with his wine, which will be the hardest thing to do; for since hee was last at London and tasted the Divinitie of the▪ Miter, scarce any liquour in Lan∣cashire will go downe with him, sure, sure he will never be a Pu∣ritane, he holds so well with the Miter.

Mal.

Well Robert, I find your love by your haste from me, ile undertake you shal be at Lancaster, & twise as far, & yet at home time enough, and be rul'd by me.

Rob.

Thou art a witty rogue, and thinkst to make me believe any thing, because I saw thee make thy broome sweepe the house without hands t'other day.

Mal.

You shall see more than that presently, because you shall beleeve me; you know the house is all a bed here: and I dare not be mist in the morning. Besides, I must be at the wed∣ding of Lawrence and Parnell to morrow.

Rob.

I your old sweet heart Lawrence? Old love will not be forgotten

Mal.

I care not for the losse of him, but if I 〈◊〉〈◊〉 him not hang me: but to the point, if I goe with you to night, and help you to as good wine as your master desires, and you keepe your time with him, you will give me a pinte for my company.

Rob.

Thy belly full wench.

Mal.

I'le but take up my milk payle and leave it in the field, till our comming backe in the morning, and wee'll away.

Rob.

Goe fetch it quickly then.

Mal.

No Robert, rather than leave your company so long, it shall come to me.

Rob.

I would but see that.

The Payle goes.

Mal.

Looke yonder, what do you thinke on't.

Rob.

Light, it comes; and I do thinke there is so much of the Divell in't as will turne all the milke shall come in't these seven yeares, and make it burne too, till it stinke worse than the Pro∣verbe of the Bishops foot.

Mal.

Looke you sir, heere I have it, will you get up and a∣way.

Rob.

My horse is gone, nay prithee Mal. thou hast set him a∣wa•…•…, leave thy Roguerie.

Mal.

Looke againe.

Rob.

There stands a blacke long-sided jade: mine was a truss'd gray.

Mal.

Yours was too short to carrie double such a journey. Get up I say, •…•…ou shall have your owne againe i'th morning.

Rob.

Nay but, nay but.

Mal.

Nay, and you stand butting now, i'le leave you to look your horse. Payle on afore to the field, and staie till I come.

Rob.

Come away then, hey for Lancaster: stand up▪

Exeunt