A pleasant and vvitty comedy: called, A new tricke to cheat the Divell . Written by R.D. Gent

Scaene. 1.

Enter old Frier Bernard, and young Frier Iohn.

Ber.

NOw we have pass'd our more retired houres To holy uses as our vowes compell; In zealous and Religious exercises, In Visitation of the weake and sicke, To strengthen those that stagger with our prayers, And ghostly counsell; now night calls us home Unto our Cloyster, there to spend the rest Of our late houres in thoughts contemplative,

And sacred Meditations.

Io.

Holy Father, I am affraid time hath prevented us, 'Tis now past Eight, and, but I much mistake, I heard the warning of the Cloyster Bell, Which tells us, if we reach not instantly W'are for this night excluded.

Ber.

Mercy Heaven how swift time runs?

Io.

W'are now at Islington, What hope have we to get to Crutched Friers Before the Gates be shut, and the Keyes carried Up to the Abbots Chamber?

Ber.

Thou say'st true, how shall we spend the night then?

Io.

We'le knocke here At the next signe, the good man I know well, Of honest conversation, of good life, And yet a boone companion; one that loves Good company, and to be merry with them. He, if he be at home, will bid us welcome: My Hostesse too, a sweet and smooth-fac'd wench, Courteous and kind, and wondrous well belov'd Of all her Neighbours; liberall to the Church, And much commended for her Charity. Let us not bauke her house.

Ber.

Knocke good Frier Iohn, and begge us a nights lodging.

Enter Woman.

Wo.

Who's that abroad so late?

Io.

For Charity those that would be admitted.

Wo.

Charity should be in bed at Mid-night.

Ber.

But Devotion should alwayes wake; Where's the good man your Husband?

Wo.

Hee's gone from home, and that's a reason too We shut up doores thus early; say, what are you?

Io.

Frier Bernard, and Frier Iohn.

Wo.

Religious men, and keepe unlawfull houres?

Ber.

'Tis no vaine pleasure, Or evill purpose that hath kept us out, But Christian zeale to visite and confirme Them, for his sake to whom our lives are vow'd;

Grant us reliefe and harbour.

Wo.

'Twere suspitious for me, but a lone woman, he abroad, To entertaine men of your ranke and place, VVhose lusts have all bin question'd, and have drawne Good women of best rumour and report, Into foule scandall; therefore pardon me, This night you get no entrance.

Ber.

My good Dame, You see me aged, and farre spent in yeares, Decrepit, and unfit for dalliance, And should my youthfull Novice strive t' exceed His Lawfull bounds, I am neere to counsell him, But he was never guilty of such thoughts.

Io.

'Las my kind Dame, not I.

Ber.

Then grant us the least shelter, any place, By or remote, to keepe us from the cold; Stable, or Barne, if you be so provided, Or any out Roome where's but hay, or straw To wrap us in till Morning.

Wo.

Good, excuse mee.

Io.

Can you be so hard-hearted unto men Of our so knowne Devotion?

Ber.

Grant us this, and you shall have the assistance of our prayers In all our Trentalls, Masses, Dirges, Orisons, Your soule shall be remembred; but if we Should by your rude remorcelesse cruelty Miscarry in our persons, in this raw And so bleake cold; the price of our two lives Must be of you exacted.

Wo.

Curse upon them, No night but this to trouble me in? being ingaged To better fare by appointment.

Ber.

Gentle Dame, for reverence of my yeares and gravity, And for my Covents Order; for my Name And my profession, grant Frier Bernard this Harbour from Frost and Snow.

Wo.

VVell Frier, you shall, But this provided, I will locke you up

In a close Garret, and my selfe keepe the Key To avoid suspition; you shall have fresh straw, But other Bedding none, no fire nor Candle, Beere, Ale, nor any such commodity, Now in my Husbands absence; so, pray enter, And this I doe for Charity.

Ber.

Now Heavens Benison fall on thy head, that two Religious men art so obsequious; gentle Novice, be Civill and much observant, 'tis a courtesie We scarce can find else where.

Io.

My holy Father, I know it well; I am prescrib'd my limits, Which I am willing with all zeale t'observe; I would we knew our Lodging.

Ber.

All necessities are ever to bee pardon'd, once, like Horses, Let's lodge in our owne Litter; I commend The womans modesty, that is so curious, Her Husband being from home, to avoyd scandall, And mens base imputations.

Io.

So doe I, 'Tis one of our best Dames; but see, she comes To give us entertainement

Enter the Woman.

Wo.

I have onely a Cock-loft, please you gentle Friers, To make best use of that and some fresh straw, Best harbour that my Husbands absence yeelds Y'are welcome to.

Ber.

We entertaine it gladly, And thanke you my good Dame, I am for sleepe, That's this my nights ambition.

Wo.

Please you enter, but yet no further then Ile locke you in Ile keepe the Key my selfe.

Io.

At your best pleasure.

Exeunt.

Enter Constable, with a Bottle of Wine, and Manchets.

Con.

My Watch is set, charge given, and all at peace, But by the burning of the Candle blew, Which I by chance espyed through the Lanthorne,

And by the dropping of the Beadles Nose, I smell a Frost; now to prevent this cold, To which I am subject, I have made my Deputy, Given up my staffe and power into his hands; My selfe intending to spend all this night Here, at an honest Neighbours; some provision I have sent in, and some I have brought along, A cast of Manchets, and a Bottle to Of the best Wine in Turnball, which, they say All London cannot better: Silent all, None stirring neere, Ile knocke but softly for feare Of waking Neighbours.

Wo.

Whose there?

Con.

'Tis I.

Wo.

Not Master Constable?

Con.

The same faire love.

Wo.

Have you dispos'd your Watch?

Con.

Yes, at you further Corner.

Wo.

Not too loud, meane time I softly will sneake downe The Staires, and softly let you in.

Con.

Gramercy wench; the kindest loving Neighbour the Towne yeelds, the Hamlet cannot match her; a smug Lasse, And one that knowes it too; I would not loose her For halfe my state in the Parish, while I'me in Office, She's safe as Mouse in Mill: Oh, are you come?

Wo.

I was in feare you would have broke with me, But now I see y'are currant.

Con.

Sweet a kisse, and harke in thine eare.

Frier Iohn peepes out above.

Io.

Frier Bernard's fast, he snores and sleepes as Snug as any Pigge in Pease-straw; but my selfe Cannot once close an eye, which makes me wonder That I am growe so wakefull.

Con.

Here's to thy good fat Pullet that's within, Two fine Cheat Loaves were sent me from the Court, A Cup of Nipsitate briske and neate; The Drawers call it Tickle-braine, 'twill do't, But is the Roast-meat ready?

Wo.

Piping hot, Ile goe fetch Salt and Trenchers.

Con.

Quicke, good Wench.

Io.

Dreame I? or i'st substantiall that I see? Was this your cunning Dame, to locke us up

Like Prisoners, and afford us nought but straw To feather our nests withall? not allow us drinke, Food, nor a Candle, least we should fire the House, For that is her excuse; fire on you both, Have you these trickes? yet God a mercy cranny That I can spy all this.

She brings in the Pullet.

Wo.

Now let's be merry, but in any case Speake not too loud, least we should wake the Friers.

Con.

The Friers? what Friers?

Wo.

Two Abbey Lubbers that are lockt up fast, Of whom I could not rid me; but I thinke I have fitted them, they have neither light nor bed, Nor any other Comfort.

Con.

Tush, no matter, What's that to us? Come sweet, cut up the Pullet, And after we'le to Bed.

Wo.

Doe you't, I am no Carver.

Io.

Doe you straine curtesies? had I it in fingering I'de make you both make but a Fridayes feast; Oh how the steame perfumes my Nostrils.

Con.

In faith it shall be thine.

Wo.

If I begin, may I ne're eate more.

Io.

Here's a third would do't, knew hee but how to come by't.

Con.

Well, since you'le force me to't, I will make bold this once.

One knocks at the doore.

Wo.

If that should be my Husband?

Con.

Ha, what then?

Wo.

You were sham'd, I quite undone; he knockes againe; Upon my life 'tis he.

Con.

What shall become of me? Doest thou not thinke he'le spare an Officer? But fall on the Kings Image?

Io.

So soone started?

Hus.

Why Nan, asleepe or dead?

Wo.

My Husbands voice, who's there?

Con.

Where, which way?

Wo.

Creepe beneath the Bed.

Hus.

Why do'st not open doore?

Wo.

Now to convey these victuals hence, and put out the fire, Lord Husband is it you? who lookt for you so late? These shall into the Cupboord, if the smell Betray's not w'are safe.

Con.

I, if my swell betray me not.

Hus.

Why do'st not rise?

Wi.

I have got such a cold, a cough withall, I thought I should have dyed; stay but a little Till I have cast my Petticoate about me, Ile quickely let you in; the fire's quite out, No signe of any Feast.

Hus.

I'me almost starved, prethee make hast.

Wo.

I am comming, good lye close, and if I can get him Once to bed, I have a tricke to shift you.

Con.

I doe feele I had need of shift already.

Io.

Here's brave juggling? For this night, Constable, I am your Watch; Oh but the smoaking pullet.

Enter Host, and Hostesse.

Wo.

Lord Husband that you'le venter whom so late, So many Knaves abroad?

Hus.

I feare no robbing, and for my Carkasse, I still beare About me to defend that, I've travell'd hard to day, And am very hungry prethee wife see what thou hast in the house?

Wo.

What, talke of Victuals now? is this a time of night?

Io.

I by my faith, for one that could come by't.

Hus.

Talke not to me, something I must and will have.

Wo.

Had I knowne But of your comming home I had provided, But now I pray to bed, this cold so troubles me.

Hus.

Cold troubles me, lay me some Faggots on.

Wo.

You see the fire's quite out.

Hus.

Ile have't reviv'd.

Wi.

You're such another man?

Husb.

See how she stirres?

Wo.

Would house and all were fir'd, So some of us were out on't.

Iohn.

I for one.

Husb.

I would have had some company, I had not

Such an appetite to be merry for an houre this seven yeare; That I could tell where to call up some good fellow That I knew, we would not part these two houres.

Frier Iohn makes a noise in the Garret.

Io.

That's my Qu.

Hus.

Now blesse us wife, what noise is in the Garret?

Wo.

No hurt man; nay, pray will you to bed?

Hus.

Bed me no bedds, Ile know the reason of't.

Wo.

Two Friers shut from their Covents, wanting harbour, Begg'd lodging with such importunity They would not be deny'd; at length I pittied them, And yet to make them sure, I lockt them fast Up in the Straw-loft, and see, here's the Key, Th'are fast enough for starting.

Hus.

Do'st thou know them?

Wo.

Frier Bernard, and Frier Iohn.

Hus.

Frier Bernard, and Frier Iohn? th'onely good Ladds That I desir'd to meet with; I beshrew thee They had no better welcome; goe, unlocke, Intreat them hither, we will have one cup To th'health of all their Covent.

Wo.

Call them up? what time shall we to bed then?

Hus.

Time enough, early betimes, nay, quick Nan, Frier Iohn there? The bonniest Lad e're wore portace in a string, Or mumbled Masse, or Mattins; I but wish'd And see, 'tis come to passe; the other to, Though he be strict of life, yet will sometimes Be merry, if he like his company; But my kind honest bald-pate, Frier Iacke,

Enter woman and Friers.

I shall be glad to see him; welcome faith, With reverence, Father, to your gravity, Be not offended if Frier Iohn and I Be, not exceeding compasse, a little merry, And play with the Pot; fill some in.

Wo.

To your bellies pots and all.

Ber.

Excesse, my Host, can purchase no excuse, But modest mirth, transgressing not his true And lawfull bounds, is good and commendable;

Now give us leave to bid you welcome home.

Hus.

Thankes good Frier Bernard, Now as I live, would I had some good cheere, No better then I would pay for; but she tells me There's nothing to be compass'd.

Io.

The worse lucke; and yet I smell a supper.

Wo.

Not so much as a cantell of Cheese, or crust of bread, That can this night be come by (for your throates, Ile rather see you choakt.)

Hus.

But any fare that would content the stomacke.

Io.

Say you so? Ile try what I can doe.

Wo.

What a leering eye the Frier cast towards the Cupbord?

Io.

Bid my Dame provide Cloath, Salt, and Trenchers.

Hus.

But Frier Iohn, how shall we come by meate?

Io.

For such provision trust to my Art.

Ber.

By Art, can that be done?

Io.

Yes, by Art Magicke.

Ber.

Oh prophane, and fearefull! Art Magicke! didst thou ever study that? It is against our Order.

Io.

But not as I will order it, feare it not.

Hus.

Can Frier Iohn Conjure?

Io.

For a Supper, or so, but never durst deale further; Will you furnish a Table fit for meate?

Hus.

Nan, when I say?

Wo.

We shall have now some fooling.

Ber.

What doth my Novice meane?

Io.

Good Father peace, no hurt to you nor me.

Hus.

Nor any heere?

Io.

That's furnish'd with a stomacke. Doemones, et Cacodoemones conjuro vos, surgite et venite. No man stirre, is the Cloth laid, and all things fit for meat?

Wo.

You see to please you, we can doe any thing.

Io.

Now let me see, What Christian Climate yeelds us the best bread? Oh, the best wheat's in Spaine; what say you now To a couple of Cheat Loves bak'd in Madrid, And brought into this Chamber?

Hus.

Would we might see them.

Io.

All vostro comando, Ast••rothe, il pane in h••c camera presto. Oh, now 'tis done; mine Host, put but your hand Into that Corner and pull forth two Loaves.

Hus.

Are you in earnest?

Io.

But see what Art can doe.

Wo.

Pox on the Frier, have you these trickes?

Hus.

Two fine and delicate Manchets.

Io.

The best in Spaine, or Frier Iohn much mistakes: Place them good mine Host, behind the Salt.

Hus.

I shall.

Io.

There's more behind.

Ber.

Not possible in Art.

Io.

Peace Father, more will be done anon; What Climate yeelds the best French Grape? My Spirit whispers Orleance Grape's the best, What sayes mine Host to a pure Cup of Orleance?

Hus.

Faith I say, would I might see't.

Io.

Ie vou pre Monsieur Asterothe, once more A Cup of Divine Claret; no, a Bottle of some two quarts▪ Gramercy, thou hast done't, mine Host, but cast your eye Upon that place, and you shall find it there.

Hus.

Most admirable, see, here's a Bottle full.

Io.

But taste mine Host, and try if it be right.

Wo.

Your Divells take you; you know where's the best liquor.

Hus.

Excellent stuffe, I ne're dranke better Clarret.

Ber.

How comes this?

Io.

No hurt to you still, Father.

Hus.

Bread and Drinke? how shall we come by Meate?

Io.

Let me see, there is a Midnight supper now served in At Prague in Germany, where the Emperours Court Lyes for the most part, and seldome is he absent; Among all all other dainties, speake, what dish Desire you from the Table?

Hus.

Any thing.

Io.

What say you to a Pullet piping hot, Now standing on the Dresser?

Hus.

Nothing better.

Wo.

The Divell take all such smell-feasts.

Io.

But once more Ile employ thee, Asterothe, For this night no more trouble thee. Veni, assiste, & in hac re succurre; I smell the Pullet Smoaking, and Sauce unto't.

Hus.

I, but where?

Io.

Somewhere about this Roome, who hath the Key Of that same Cupboord?

Hus.

Marry Nan, my Wife.

Io.

Call for it, good mine Host, You see I come neere nothing, use faire play, Saw neither fire nor candle to provide this, Toucht neither Locke nor Key within your house, But was asleepe i'th'straw; unlocke mine Host, See what the Cupboord yeelds.

Wo.

A poyson on thee, would it might prove so to thee, It was never provided for those chopps.

Io.

What finde you there?

Hus.

A hot fat Pullet, newly dress'd and sauc'd. I never heard the like,

Ber.

'Tis above wonder.

Io.

You see what Art can doe.

Ber.

Tell me, Frier Iohn?

Io.

Ile talke with you anon, in the meane time Eate while 'tis hot, 't hath come a pretty Iourney, And marvell 'tis not cold.

Hus.

Good wine, good bread, good victuals, stomacke good, And all to meete together? nay fall to, And he be thank'd that sent it.

Ber.

This to me appeares beyond imagination, Nay, gentle Hostesse sit.

Io.

Many provide good Cates that tast them not, Now blessing on their hearts.

Wo.

But curse on thine, and on thy stomacke too.

Hus.

I pray Frier Iohn, what spirit doe you deale with?

Io.

Aestroth, did you not heare me name him?

Hus.

And what's hee?

Io.

One of the foure great Spirits, that have Dominion O're the foure quarters of the Earth: good Dame, Me thinkes you doe not eate.

Wo.

I could eate thee.

Hus.

Could you not shew your Divell for a need,

To one that faine would see him?

Io.

In what shape?

Hus.

Why in his owne.

Io.

Oh 'tis too terrible, it would fright us all.

Hus.

Yet would I see him.

Io.

What, in his terrors? he would make you mad, Distracted and amaz'd, yet, good mine Host, To give you all content, I could be willing To shew him but in some familiar shape, Such as should not affright you.

Hus.

With all my heart.

Io.

Have you no Neighbour whom you best affect, whose Shape he might assume t'appeare lesse terrible?

Hus.

Yes, twenty I could name.

Io.

Soft, let me pause; It must be some that still wake at these houres, We have no power o're sleepers; say I bring him In person of some Watchman?

Hus.

No shape better.

Io.

Or in the habit of your Constable?

Hus.

Why hee's my honest Gossip.

Io.

Why then his.

Wo.

More scurvy trickes Frier Iohn, I may live to cry quit∣tance with you.

Io.

But mine Host, resolve me one thing; should great Asterothe appeare to you in your Gossips shape, How would you deale with him?

Hus.

Why as my friend, my Neighbour, and my Gossip.

Io.

No such thing; you must imagine him what he appeares, An evill spirit, to kicke him, and defie him, As you would doe the Divell, otherwise When you are late abroad, and we gone hence, He'le haunt your house hereafter.

Hus.

Feare not that, If kickes and spurnes will drive the Divell hence, Ile helpe to send him packing.

Io.

I must tell you, 'tis meerely for your owne good, Appeare Asteroth, Asteroth appeare from underneath the bed In shape of Master Constable; do't when I say't, Not yet? Excruciabo te Asteroth, in jam jam jam apparebis.

Now mine Host, either with zeale expell the Divell hence, Or have your house still haunted.

Hus.

Will kickes do't? Let me alone to conjure him, pox on the Divell, He hath put me in a sweat.

Wo.

Ile after him▪ and least he should beare downe part Of the house, Ile let him out of doores.

Hus.

Yes, doe good Nan; I thinke Frier Iohn I have bumbasted the Devill; thankes for our Supper, French wine, and Spanish Loaves, I never tasted meat That more contented me.

Ber.

But how came this?

Io.

Ile tell you by the way; no questions now: Now good mine Host we see the night quite spent And the bright day starre rising in the East; We'le take our leaves; make much of our good Dame, And thinke no worse of your good Officer, Your Gossip and your Neighbour, in whose forme Asteroth so late appear'd.

Hus.

Good night Frier Iohn, and holy Father Bernard.

Ber.

Rather good morrow.

Io.

Onely commend us to my Dame your wife, And thanke her for our Lodging.

Exeunt