The widdow Ranter, or, The history of Bacon in Virginia a tragi-comedy, acted by Their Majesties servants / written by Mrs. A. Behn.

ACT II. (Book 2)

SCENE I. A Pavillion.

Discovers the Indian King and Queen sitting in State, with Guards of Indians, Men and Women attending: to them Bacon richly dress'd, attended by Da∣ring, Fearless, and other Officers, he bows to the King and Queen, who rise to receive him.

King.

I Am sorry Sir, we meet upon these terms, we who so often have embrac'd as friends.

Bac.

How charming is the Queen?

[aside.]

War, Sir, is not my bus'ness, nor my pleasure: Nor was I bred in Arms; My Country's good has forc'd me to assume a Soldiers life: And 'tis with much regret that I Employ the sirst effects of it against my Friends; Yet whilst I may—Whilst this Cessation lasts, I beg we may exchange those Friendships, Sir, we have so often paid in happier Peace.

King.

For your part, Sir, you've been so Noble, that I repent the fatall difference that makes us meet in Arms. Yet tho' I'm young I'm sensible of Injuries; And oft have heard my Grandsire say—That we were Mon∣archs once of all this spacious World; Till you an unknown People land∣ing here, Distress'd and ruin'd by destructive storms, Abusing all our Cha∣ritable Hospitality, Usurp'd our Right, and made your friends your slaves.

Bac.

I will not justify the Ingratitude of my fore-fathers, but finding here my Inheritance, I am resolv'd still to maintain it so, And by my sword

which first cut out my Portion, Defend each inch of Land with my last drop of Bloud.

Queen.

Ev'n his threats have charms that please the heart:

[aside

King.

Come Sir, let this ungratefull Theme alone, which is better dis∣puted in the Field.

Queen.

Is it impossible there might be wrought an understanding be∣twixt my Lord and you? 'Twas to that end I first desired this truce, My self proposing to be Mediator, To which my Lord Cavarnio shall agree, Could you but Condescend-—I know you're Noble: And I have heard you say our tender Sex could never plead in vain.

Bac.

Alas! I dare not trust your pleading Madam? A few soft words from such a Charming mouth would make me lay the Conqueror at your feet as a Sacrifice for all the ills he has done you.

Queen.

How strangely am I pleas'd to hear him talk

[aside

King.

Se•…•…ernia see—the Dancers do appear;

Sir will you take your seat?

[to Bacon:

[He leads the Queen to a seat, they sit and talk.]

Bac.

Curse on his sports that interrupted me, My very soul was hover∣ing at my Lip, ready to have discover'd all its secrets. But oh! I dread to tell her of my pain, And when I wou'd, an Awfull trembling seizes me, And she can only 〈◊〉〈◊〉 my dying eyes, read all the Sentiments of my Cap∣tive heart.

[sits down, the rest wait.

Enter Indians that dance Anticks; After the Dance the King seems in discourse with Bacon, the Queen 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and comes forth.

Qu.

The more I gaze upon this English Stranger, the more Confusion struggles in my Soul, Oft I have heard of Love, and oft this Gallant Man (When Peace had made him pay his idle Visits) 〈◊〉〈◊〉 told a thousand tales of dying Maids. And ever when he spoke, my panting heart, with a Pro∣phetick fear in sighs reply'd, I shall fall such a Victim to his Eyes.

[Enter an Indian.

Indian.

Sir here's a Messenger from the English Council

[to the King

Desires admittance to the General.

Bac.

With your Permission Sir, he may advance.

[to the King

Re-enter Indian with Dance. A Letter.

Dun.

All health and Happyness attend your honour, This from the Honourable Council:

[gives him a Letter

King.

I'le leave you till you have dispatch'd the M•…•…ger, and then ex∣pect your precense in the Royal Tent.

Exeunt King, Queen, and Indians.

Bac.

〈◊〉〈◊〉, read the Letter

[to Daring.

[reads

Daring.

SIR, the necessity of what you 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 makes it pardona•…•…, and we could wish we had done the Country, and our selves so much Justice 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to have given you that Commission you desired—We now finde it reason•…•…ble 〈◊〉〈◊〉 raise 〈◊〉〈◊〉 forces, to appose these Insolences, which possible yours may

be 〈◊〉〈◊〉 weak to accomplish, to which end the Council is ordered to meet this Even∣ing, and destring you will come and take your place there, and be pleas'd to ac∣cept from us a Commission to Command in Chief in this War—Therefore send those Soldiers under your Command to their respective houses, and hast, Sir, to your affectionate Friends—

Fear.

Sir, I fear the hearts and Pen did not agree when this was writ

Dar.

A plague upon their shallow Politicks! Do they think to play the old game twice with us?

Bac.

Away, you wrong the Council, who of themselves are Honour∣able Gentlemen, but the base Coward fear of some of them, puts the rest on tricks that suit not with their nature.

Dunce.

Sir, 'tis For noble ends you're sent for, and for your safety I'le engage my life.

Dar.

By Heaven and so you shall—and pay it too with all the rest of your wise-headed Council.

Bac.

Your zeal is too Officious now: I see no Treachery, and can fear no danger.

Dun.

Treachery! now Heavens forbid, are we not Christians Sir, All Friends and Countrymen! believe me Sir, 'tis Honour calls you to increase your fame, and he who would dissuade you is your Enemy.

Dar.

Go Cant, Sir to the Rabble—for us—we know you.

Bac.

You wrong me when you but suspect for me, let him that acts dis∣honourably fear. My Innocence, and my good sword's my guard.

Dar.

If you resolve to go, we will attend you.

Bac.

What go like an Invader? No Daring, the Invitation's friendly, and as a friend, attended only by my menial Servants, I'le wait upon the Council, that they may see that when I could Command it I came an hum∣ble Suppliant for their favour—You may return, and tell 'em I'le attend.

Dunce.

I kiss your Honour's hand▪—

[goes out.

Dar.

'Sdeath will you trust the saithless Council Sir, who have so long h•…•…ld you in hand with promises, That curse of States-men, that unlucky vice that renders even Nobility despis'd.

Bac.

Perhaps the Council thought me too aspiring, and would not add Wings to my Ambitious flight.

Dar.

A pox of their considering caps, and now they find that you can •…•…ar alone, they send for you to knip your spreading wings.

Now by my soul you shall not go alone.

Bac.

Forbear, lest I suspect you for a mutineer; I am resolv'd to go.

Fear.

What, and send your Army home? a pretty fetch:

Dar.

By Heaven we'le not disband—not till we see how fairly you are dealt with: if you have a Commission to be General, here we are ready to receive new orders: If no—We'l ring 'em such a Thundring Peal shall beat the Town about their Treacherous Ears.

Bac.

I do Command you not to stir a man, Till you're inform'd how I

am treated by 'em:—leave me all—

[Exeunt Officers. While Bacon reads the Letter again, To him the Indian Queen, with Women waiting.

Queen.

Now while my Lord's asleep in his Pavi•…•…ion I'le try my power with the General, for an Accomodation of a Peace: the very dreams of war fright my soft slumbers that us'd to be employ'd in kinder Bus'ness.

Bac.

Ha!—The Queen—What happyness is this presents it self which all my Industry could never gain?

Queen.

Sir—

[approaching him

Bacon.

Prest with the great Extreams of Joy and Fear I trembling stand, unable to approach her:

Queen.

I hope you will not think it fear in me, tho' tim'rous as a Dove, by nature fram'd: Nor that my Lord, whose youth's unskill'd in War can either doubt his Courage, or his forces, t•…•… makes me seek a Reconcilation on any honourable terms of Peace.

Bac.

Ah Madam! if you knew how absolutely you command my Fate I fear but little honour wonld be left me, since what so e're you ask me I should grant.

Queen.

Indeed I would not ask your Honour, Sir, That renders you too Brave in my esteem. Nor can I think that you would part with that. No not to save your Life.

Bac.

I would do more to serve your least Commands than part with triviall Life.

Queen.

Bless me! Sir, how came I by such a Power?

Bac.

The Gods, and Nature gave it you in your Creation, form'd with all the Charms that ever grac'd your Sex.

Queen.

I'st possible? am I so Beautifull?

Bac.

As Heaven, or Angels there:

Queen.

Supposing this, how can my Beauty make you so obliging?

Bac.

Beauty has still a power over great Souls, And from the moment I beheld your eyes, my stubborn heart melted to compliance, and from a na∣ture rough and turbulent, grew Soft and Gentle as the God of Love.

Queen.

The God of Love! what is the God of Love?

Bac.

'Tis a resistless Fire, that's kinddl'd thus—

takes her by the hand and gazes on her.

at every gaze we take from fine Eyes, from such Bash∣full Looks, and such soft touches—it makes us sigh—and pant as I do now, and stops the Breath when e're we speak of Pain.

Queen.

Alas, for me if this should be Love!

[aside.

Bac.

It makes us tremble, when we touch the fair one, And all the bloud runs shiv'ring thro' the veins, The heart's surrounded with a feeble Languishment, The eyes are dying, and the Cheeks are pale, The tongue is faltring, and the body sainting.

Queen.

Then I'm undone, and all I feel is Love,

[aside.

If Love be Catching Sir, by looks and touches, Let us at distance parley—or

rather let me fly, For within veiw, is too near—

[aside

Bac.

Ah! she retires—displeas'd I fear with my presumptious Love,—Oh pardon, fairest creature:

[kneels

Queen.

I'le talk no more, our words exchange our Souls, and every look •…•…ades all my blooming honour, like Sun beams, on unguarded Roses—take all our Kingdoms—make our People Slaves, and let me fall be∣neath your Conquering Sword. But never let me hear you talk again or gaze upon your Eyes—

[goes out

Bac.

She Loves! by Heaven she Loves! And has not art enough to hide her Flame. tho' she have Cruel honour to suppress it. However I'le pursue her to the Banquet.

[Exit

SCENE II. The Widdow Ranters-Hall.

Enter Sure-Love fan'd by two Negro's, followed by Hazard.

Sure.

This Madam Ranter is so prodigious a Treater—oh! I hate a room that smells of a great Dinner, and what's worse a desert of Punch and Tobacco—what! are you taking leave so soon Cousin?

Haz.

Yes Madam, but 'tis not fit I should let you know with what re∣gret I go,—but business will be obey'd.

Sure.

Some Letters to dispatch to English Ladies you have left behind—come Cousin Confess:

Haz.

I own I much admire the English Beauties, but never yet have put their Fetters on—

Sure.

Never in Love—oh then you have pleasure to Come.

Haz.

Rather a Pain when there's no hope atrends it,

Sure.

Oh such diseases quickly cure themselves,

Haz.

I do not wish to find it so; For even in Pain I find a pleasure too.

Sure.

You are infected then, and came abroad for cure.

Haz.

Rather to receive my wounds Madam;

Sure.

Already Sir.—who e're sne be, she made good hast to Conquer, we have few here, boast that Dexterity.

Haz.

What think you of Chrisante, Madam?

Sure.

I must confess your Love & your Dispair are there plac•…•…d right, of which I am not fond of being made a Consident, since I'm assur'd she can Love none but Friendly.

[coldly

Haz.

Let her Love on, as long as life shall last, let Friendly take her, and the Universe, so I had my next wish,—

[sighs

Madam it is your self that I adore,—I should not be so vain to tell you this, bu•…•… that I know you've found the secret out already from my sighs.

Sure.

Forbear Sir, and know me for your kinsmans wife, & no more:

Haz.

Be Scornfull as you please, rail at my passion, and refuse to hear

it; yet I'le Love on, and hope in spight of you, my Flame shall be so con∣stant and Submissive, it shall compell your heart to some return.

Sure.

You're very Confident of your power I perceive, but if you chance to finde your self mistaken, say your opinion and your affectation were misapply'd, and not that I was Cruell,

[Ex Surelove

Haz.

Whate're denyalls dwell upon your Tongue, your eyes assure me that your heart is tender,

[goes out

Enter the Bag-Piper, Playing before a great Boule of Punch, carryed between two Negro's, a Highlandler Dancing after it, the Widdow Ranter led by Ti∣merous, Chrisante by Dullman; Mrs. Flirt and Friendly all dancing af∣ter it; they place it on the Table.

Dull.

This is like the Noble Widdow all over I'faith,

Tim.

Ay, Ay, the widdows Health in a full Ladle, Major,—but a Pox on't what made that young Fellow here, that affronted us yesterday Major?

[drinks

[while they drink about

Dull.

Some damn'd Sharper that wou'd lay his Knife aboard your Widdow Cornet.

Tim.

Zoors if I thought so, I'd Arrest him for Salt and Battery, Lay him in Prison for a Swinging fine and take no Baile.

Dull.

Nay, had it not been before my Mrs here, Mrs Chrisante, I had swing'd him for his yesterdays affront,—ah my sweet Mistris Chrisante—if you did but know what a power you have over me—

Chris.

Oh you're a great Courtier Major:

Dull.

Would I were any thing for your sake Madam.

Ran.

Thou art any thing, but what thou shouldst be, prethee Major leave off being an old Buffoon, that is a Lover turn'd to ridicule by Age, consider thy self a Meer rouling Tun of Nants,—a walking Chimney, ever Smoaking with Nasty Mundungus,—and then thou hast a Counte∣nance like an old worm-eaten Cheese,

Dull.

Well widdow, you will Joake, ha, ha, ha—

Tim.

Gad', Zoors She's pure Company, ha, ha—

Duoe.

No matter for my Countenance—Coll. Downright likes my Estate and is resolv'd to have it a Match.

Friend.

Dear Widdow, take off your Damn'd Major, for if he speak a∣nother word to Chrisante, I shall be put past all my patience, and fall foul upon him.

Ran.

S'life not for the world—Major I bar Love-making within my Territories, 'tis inconsistent with the Punch-Bowle, if you'l drink, do, if not be gone:

Tim.

Nay Gad's Zooks if you enter me at the Punch-Boule, you en∣ter me in Politicks—well 'tis the best Drink in Christendom for a Statesman,

[they drink about, the Bag-Pipe playing

Ran.

Come, now you shall see what my high Land-Vallet can do—

[a Scots Dance

Dull.

So—I see let the world go which way it will, widdow, you are resolv'd for Mirth,—but come—to the conversation of the times.

Rant.

The times, why what a Devill ailes the times, I see nothing in the times but a company of Coxcombs that fear without a Cause.

Tim.

But if these fears were laid and Bacon were hang'd, I look upon Virginia to be the happiest part of the world, gads Zoors,—why there's England—'tis nothing to't—I was in England about 6. years ago, & was shew'd the Court of Aldermen, some were nodding, some saying nothing, and others very little to purpose, but how could it be otherwise, for they had neither Bowle of Punch, Bottles of wine or Tobacco before 'em to put Life & Soul into 'em as we have here: then for the young Gentlemen—Their farthest Travels is to France or Italy, they never come hither.

Dull.

The more's the Pitty by my troth,

[drinks.

Tim.

Where they learn to Swear Mor-blew, Mor-Dee:

Friend.

And tell you how much bigger the Louvre is then White-Hall; buy a sute A-la-mode, get a swinging Cap of some French Marquis, spend all their money and return just as they went.

Dull.

For the old fellows, their bus'ness is Usury, Extortion, and un∣dermining young Heirs.

Tim.

Then for young Merchants, their Exchange the is Tavern, their Ware-house the Play-house, and their Bills of Exchange Billet-Deaxs, where to sup with their wenches at the other end of the Town,—now Judge you what a Condition poor England is in: for my part I look up∣on't as a lost Nation gads zoors.

Dull.

I have consider'd it, and have found a way to save all yet:

Tim.

As how I pray,

Dull.

As thus, we have men here of great Experience and Ability—now I would have as many sent into England as would supply all places, and Offices, both Civill and Military, de see, their young Gentry should all Travell hither for breeding, and to learn the misteries of State.

Frien.

As for the old Covetous Fellows, I would have the Tradesmen get in their debts, break and turn Troupers.

Tim.

And they'd be soon weary of Extortion gadz zoors;

Dull.

Then for the young Merchants, there should be a Law made, none should go beyond Ludgate;

Frie.

You have sound out the only way to preserve that great Kingdom,

[drinking all this while sometimes

Tim.

Well, Gad zoors 'tis a fine thing to be a good Statesman,

Fri.

Ay Cornet, which you had never been had you staid in old England.

Dull.

Why Sir we were somebody in England,

Frie.

So I heard Major,

Dull.

You heard Sir, what have you heard, he's a kid-Naper that says

he heard any thing of me—and so my service to you—I'le sue you Sir for spoiling my Marriage here, by your Scandalls with Mrs. Chrisante, but that shan't do Sir, I'le marry her for all that, & he's a Rascal that denies it.

Frie.

S'death you Lye Sir—I do.

Tim.

Gad zoors Sir Lye to a Privy-Councellour, a Major of Horse, Brother, this is an affront to our Dignities, draw and I'le side with you.

[they both draw on Friendly, the Ladies run off.

Fri.

If I disdain to draw, 'tis not that I fear your base and Cowardly force, but for the respect I bear you as Magistrates, and so I leave you—

Tim

An Arrant Coward Gad zoors.

[goes out

Dull.

A meer paultroon, and I scorn to drink in's Company.

[Exeunt, putting up their Swords.

SCENE III. A Sevana, or large Heath.

Enter Whimsey, Whiff, and Boozer, with some Soldiers, Arm'd.

Whim.

Stand—stand—and hear the word of Command—do ye see you Cops, and that Ditch that runs along Major Dullmans Plantation.

Booz.

We do.

Whim.

Place your Men there, and lye Flat on your Bellies, and when Bacon comes (if alone) seize him dy' see:

Whiff.

Observe the Command now, (if alone) for we are not for bloud-•…•…ned.

Booz.

I'le warrant you for our Parts.

[Exeunt all but Whim & Whiff

Whim.

Now we have Ambusht our men, let's light our Pipes and sit down and take an Encouraging dram of the Bottle.

[pulls out a bottle of brandy out of his Pocket—they sit.

Whiff.

Thou art a Knave and hast Emptyed half the Bottle in thy Leathern Pockets, but come here's young Fright-all's health.

Whim.

What, wilt drink a mans health thou'rt going to hang?

Whiff.

'Tis all one for that, we'le drink his health first, and hang him afterwards, and thou shalt pledge me de see, and tho' 'twere under the Gallows.

Whim.

Thou'rt a Traytor for saying so, and I defy thee.

Whiff.

Nay, since we are come out like Loving Brothers to hang the Generall, let's not fall out among our selves, and so here's to you

[drinks

tho' I have no great Maw to this business:

Whim.

Prethee Brother Whiff, do not be so Villanous a Coward, for I hate a Coward.

Whiff.

Nay 'tis not that—But my Whiff, my Nancy dreamt to night she saw me hang'd.

Whim.

'Twas a Cowardly Dream, think no more on't, but as dreams

are Expounded by Contraries, thou shalt hang the Generall.

Whiff.

Ay—but he was my friend, and I owe him at this time a hun∣dréd Pounds of Tobacco.

Whim.

Nay, then I m sure thoud'st hang him if he were thy brother.

Whiff.

But hark—I think I hear the Neighing of horses, where shall we hide our selves, for if we stay here, we shall be Mawl'd damnably.

[Exeunt both behind a Bush, peeping.

[Enter Bacon, Fearless and 3 or 4 Footmen.]

Bac.

Let the Groom lead the Horses o're the Sevana we'le walk it on Foot, 'tis not a quarter of a Mile to the Town; & here the Air is cool.

Fear.

The Breazes about this time of the day begin to take Wing and fan refreshment to the Trees and Flowers.

Bac.

And at these hours how fragrant are the Groves:

Fear.

The Country's well, were but the People so,

Bac.

But come let's on—

[they pass to the Entrance.

Whi•…•….

There Boys—

[The Soldiers come forth and fall on Bacon.

Bac.

Hah! Ambush—

Draws, Fearless and Foot•…•…n draw, the Soldiers after a while fighting take Bac. & Fear. they having laid 3 or 4 Dead.

Whiff.

So, so, he's taken

Now we may venture out.

Whi•…•….

But are you sure he's taken?

Whiff.

Sure can't you believe your Eyes, come forth, I hate a Coward—Oh Sir, have we caught your Mightiness?

Bac.

Are you the Authors of this Valliant Act? None but such Vil∣lainous Cowards dar'st have attempted it▪

Whim.

Stop his railing tongue.

Whiff.

No, no, let him rail, let him rail now his hands are tyed, ha, ha, Why good Generall Fright-all, what was no body able d'ye think to tame the Roaring Lyon?

Bac.

You'le be hang'd for this?

Whim.

Come, come, away with him to the next Tree.

Bac.

What mean you Villains?

Whiff.

Only to hang your Honour a little, that's all. We'le teach you Sir, to serve your Country against Law.

[As they go off, Enter Daring with Soldiers.]

Dar.

Hah—My General betray'd—this I suspected.

His Men come in, they fall on, Release Bacon and Fearless and his Man, who get Swords. Whim's Party put Whim and Whiff before 'em striking 'em as they Endeavour to run on this side or that, and forcing 'em to bear-up, th•…•…y are taken after some Fighting.

Fear.

Did not the General tell you Rogues, you'd be all hang'd?

Whiff.

Oh Nancy, Nancy, how Prophetick are thy Dreams?

Bac.

Come let's on—

Dar.

S'death what mean you Sir?

Bac.

As I design'd—to present my self to the Council:

Dar.

By Heavens we'le follow then to save you from their Treachery 'twas this that has befallen you that I fear'd, which made me at a distance follow you.

Bac.

Follow me still, but still at such a distance as your Aids may be assisting on all occasion—Fearless go back and bring your Regiment down, and Daring let your Sergeant with his Party Guard these Villains to the Council.

[Ex. Bac. Dar. & Fearless.

Whiff.

A Pox on your Worships Plot;

Whim.

A Pox on your forwardness to come out of the hedge.

[Ex. Officers with Whim & Whiff.

SCENE IV. The Council-Table.

Enter Coll. Wellman, Coll. Downright, Dullman, Timerouse, and about 7 or 8 more Seat themselves.

Well.

You heard Mr. Dunce's opinion Gentlemen, concerning Bacon's coming upon our Invitation. He believes he will come, but I rather think, tho' he be himself undaunted, yet the persuasions of his two Lieutenant-Generalls, Daring and Fearless may prevent him,—Colonel, have you or∣der'd our Men to be in Arms?

[Enter a Soldier.

Down.

I have, and they'l attend further order on the Sevana:

Sol.

May it please your Honours, Bacon is on his way, he comes unat∣tended by any but his Footmen, and Coll. Fearless.

Down.

Who is this Fellow?

Well.

A spy I sent to watch Bacon's Motions.

Sol.

But there is a Company of Soldiers in Ambush on this side of the Sevana to seize him as he passes by.

Well.

That's by no order of the Council.

Omnes.

No, no, no order;

Well.

Nay, 'twere a good design if true,

Tim.

Gad zoors would I had thought on't for my Troup,

Down.

I am for no unfair dealing in any Extremity.

Enter a Messenger in hast.

Mes.

An't please your Honours, the saddest news—An Ambush being laid for Bacon, they rusht out upon him, on the Sevana, and after some fighting took him and Fearless—

Tim.

Is this your sad News—zoors would I had had a hand in't.

Brag.

When on a sudden, Daring and his Party fell in upon us, turn'd the tide—kill'd our men and took Capt. Whimsey, and Capt. Whiff Pris'∣ners,

the rest run away, but Bacon fought like a fury.

Tim.

A bloudy Fellow;

Down.

Whim. and Whiff? they deserve death for Acting without order

Tim.

I'm of the Colonels opinion, they deserve to hang for't.

Dull.

Why Brother, I thought you had wisht the Plot had been yours but now?

Tim.

Ay, but the Case is alter'd since that, good Brother,

Well.

Now he's Exasperared past all hopes of a Reconciliation.

Dull.

You must make use of the Statesman's refuge, wise dissimulation.

Brag.

For all this Sir, he will not believe but that you mean Honour∣ably, and no persuasions could hinder him from Coming, so he has dis∣mist all his Soldiers, and is Entring the Town on foot,

Well.

What pitty 'tis a brave Man should be Guilty of an ill Action.

Brag.

But the noise of his danger has so won the hearts of the Mobile, that they encrease his Train as he goes, & follow him in the Town like a Victor.

Well

Go wait his coming

[Ex. Brag.

he grows too popular, and must be humbled,

Tim.

I was ever of your mind Colonel.

Well.

Ay right or Wrong—but what's your Counsell now?

Tim.

E'en as it us'd to be, I leave it to wiser heads.

[Enter Brag.

Brag.

Bacon Sir is Entring.

Tim.

Gad zoors wou'd I were safe in Bed,

Dull.

Colonel keep in your heat and treat Calmly with him,

Well.

I rather wish you wou'd all follow me, I'd meet him at the head of all his noisy Rabble, and seize him from the rout.

Down.

What Men of Authority dispute with Rake-Hells? 'tis below us Sir.

Tim.

To Stake our Lives and Fortunes against their nothing.

Enter Bacon, after him the Rabble with Staves and Clubs bringing in Whim. & Whiff. bound.

Well.

What means this Insolence—What Mr. Bacon do you come in Arms?

Bac.

I'de need Sir come in Arms, when men that should be Honour∣able can have so poor designs to take my life.

Well,

Thrust out his following Rabble.

First Rab.

We'le not Stirr till we have the General safe back again.

Bac.

Let not your Loves be too Officious—but retire—

1st. Rab.

At your Command we vanish—

[the Rabble retire.

Bac.

I hope you'l pardon me, if in my own defence I seiz'd on these two Murderers.

Down.

You did well Sir, 'twas by no Order they Acted,—stand forth and here your Sentence—in time of war we need no Formall Tryalls to hang Knaves that Act without order.

Whiff.

Oh Mercy Mercy Collonell—'twas Parson Dunce's Plot.

Down.

Issue out a warrant to Seize Dunce Immediately—you shall he carry'd—to the Fort to Pray—

Whim.

Oh Good your Honour I never Pray'd in all my Life,

Down.

From thence Drawn upon a Sledg to the Place of •…•…xecution,—where you shall hang till you are dead—and then be •…•…ut down and—

Whim.

Oh hold—hold—we shall never be able to endure •…•…lf this:

[kneeling

Well.

I think th'offence needs not so great Punishment, their Crime Sir is but equall to your own, acting without Commission.

Bac.

'Tis very well Explain'd Sir,—had I been Murder'd by Com∣mission then, the Deed had been approv'd, and now perhaps, I am be∣holding to the Rable for my Life:—

Well.

A fine pretence to hide a Popular fault, but for this once we Pardon them and you,

Bac.

Pardon, for what? by Heaven I Scorn your Pardon, I've not offended Honour nor Religion:

Well.

You have offended both in taking Arms,

Bac.

Shou'd I stand by and see my Country ruin'd, my King disho∣nour'd, and his Subjects Murder'd hear the sad Crys of widdows and of Orphans, You heard it Lowd, but gave no pitying care to't▪ And till the war and Massacre was brought to my own door, my Flocks, and Heards surpriz'd, I bore it all with Patience, Is it unlawfull to defend my self against a Thief that breaks into my doors?

Well.

And call you this defending of your self?

Bac.

I call it doing of my self that right, which upon Just demand the Councill did refuse me, If my Ambition as you're pleas'd to call it, made me demand too Much, I left my self to you:

Well.

Perhaps we thought it did,

Bac.

Sir you affront my Birth,—I am a Gentleman, And yet my thoughts were humble—I wou'd have fought under the meanest of your Parasites—

Tim.

There's a Bob for us Brother;

[to Dull

Bac

But still you put me off with promises—And when compell'd to stir in my defence I call'd none to my aid, and those that came, 'twas their own wrongs that urg'd 'em:

Down.

'Tis fear'd Sir, under this pretence you aim at Government:

Bac.

I scorn to answer to so base an accusation, the height of my Ambition is, to be an honest Subject.

Well.

An honest Rebell, Sir—

Bac.

You know you wrong me, and 'tis basely urg'd—but this is trifling—here are my Commissions.

[Throws down Papers. Down. reads.

Down.

—To be General of the Forces against the Indians, and Blank Commissions for his Friends.

Well.

Tear them in peices—are we to be imposed upon? De ye come in Hostile manner to compel us?

Down.

Be not to rough Sir, let us argue with him—

Well.

I am resolved I will not.

Tim.

Then we are all Dead Men, Gudzoors! he will not give us time to say our Prayers.

Well.

We every day expect fresh Force from England, till then, we of our selves shall be sufficient to make Defence, against a sturdy Traytor.

Bac.

Traytor, 'Sdeath Traytor—I defie ye, but that my Ho∣nour's yet above my Anger; I'd make you answer me that Traytor dearly.

[Rises.

Well.

Hah—am I threatned—Guards secure the Rebel.

[Guards seize him.

Bac.

Is this your Honourable Invitation? Go—Triumph in your short Liv'd Victory, the next turn shall be mine.

[Exeunt Guards with Bac.

A noise of Fighting—Enter Bacon, Wellman, his Guards Beat back by the Rabble, Bacon snatches a Sword from one, and keeps back the Rabble, Tim. gets under the Table.

Down.

What means this Insolence!

Rab.

We'l have our General, and knock that fellows brains out, and hang up Collonel Wellman.

All.

Ay ay, Hang up Wlelman.

The Rabble seize Wellman, and Dullman, and the rest.

Dull.

Hold, hold Gentleman, I was always for the General.

Rab.

Let's Barbicu this Fat Rogue.

Bac.

Begone, and know your dista•…•…ce to theCouncel.

[The Rabble let 'em go.

Well.

I'd rather perish by the meanest hand, than owe my safety poor∣ly thus to Bacon

[In Rage.

Bac.

If you persist still in that mind I'le leave you, and Conquering, make you happy 'gainst your will.

[Ex. Bacon and Rabble, Hollowing a Pacon, a Bacon.

Well.

Oh Villanous Cowards, who will trust his Honour with Syco∣phants so base? Let us to Arms—by Heaven I will not give my Body rest, till I've Chastiz'd the boldness of this Rebel.

[Exeunt Well. Down. and the rest all but Dullman, Tim. Peeps from underthe Table.

Tim.

What is the Roystering Hector gone Brother?

Dull.

Ay, ay, and the Devil go with him.

[Looking sadly, Tim. comes out.

Tim.

Was there ever such a Bull of Bash•…•…n? Why what if he should come down upon us and kill us all for Traytors?

Dull.

I rather think the Councel will Hang us all for Cowards—ah—oh—a Drum—a Drum—oh—

[He goes out.

Tim.

This is the misery of being Great,

We're Sacrific'd to every turn of State.