The witch of Edmonton a known true story / composed into a tragi-comedy by divers well-esteemed poets, William Rowley, Thomas Dekker, John Ford, &c.

Scaen. 1.

Enter Frank Thorney, Winnifride with-child.

Frank.

COme, Wench; why here's a business soon dispatch'd. Thy heart I know is now at ease: thou needst not Fear what the tattling Gossips in their cups Can speak against thy fame: thy childe shall know Who to call Dad now.

Win.

You have discharg'd the true part of an honest man; I cannot request a fuller satisfaction Then you have freely granted: yet methinks 'Tis an hard case, being lawful man and wife, We should not live together.

Frank.

Had I fail'd In promise of my truth to thee, we must Have then been ever sundred; now the longest Of our forbearing eithers company, Is onely but to gain a little time For our continuing thrift, that so hereafter The Heir that shall be born may not have cause To curse his hour of birth, which made him feel The misery of beggery and want; Two Devils that are occasions to enforce A shameful end. My plots aim but to keep My father's love.

Win.

And that will be as difficult To be preserv'd, when he shall understand How you are married, as it will be now, Should you confess it to him.

Frank.

Fathers are Wonne by degrees, not bluntly as our masters, Or wronged friends are: and besides, I'll use

Such dutiful and ready means, that ere He can have notice of what's past, th' inheritance To which I am born Heir, shall be assur'd: That done, why let him know it; if he like it not, Yet he shall have no power in him left To cross the thriving of it.

Win.

You who had The conquest of my Maiden-love, may easily Conquer the fears of my distrust. And whither Must I be hurried?

Frank.

Prithee do not use A word so much unsuitable to the constant Affections of thy Husband: thou shalt live Neer Waltham Abbey, with thy Unkle S••lman: I have acquainted him with all at large: He'll use thee kindly: thou shalt want no pleasures, Nor any other fit supplies whatever Thou canst in heart desire.

Win.

All these are nothing Without your company.

Frank.

Which thou shalt have Once every month at least.

Win.

Once every month! Is this to have an Husband?

Frank.

Perhaps oftner: That's as occasion serves.

Win.

I, I, in case No other Beauty tempt your eye, whom you Like better, I may chance to be remembred, And see you now and then. Faith, I did hope You'ld not have us'd me so: 'tis but my fortune. And yet, if not for my sake, have some pity Upon the childe I go with, that's your own. And, less you'll be a cruel hearted Father, You cannot but remember that. Heaven knows how.

Frank.

To quit which fear at once, As by the ceremony late perform'd, I plighted thee a faith, as free from challenge, As any double thought; Once more in hearing Of Heaven and thee, I vow, that never henceforth Disgrace, reproof, lawless affections, threats, Or what can be suggested gainst our Marriage, Shall cause me falsifie that Bridal-Oath That bindes me thine. And, Winnifride, when ever The wanton heat of youth by subtle baits

Of beauty, or what womans Art can practice, Draw me from onely loving thee; let Heaven Inflict upon my life some fearful ruine. I hope thou dost believe me.

Win.

Swear no more; I am confirm'd, and will resolve to do What you think most behoofeful for us.

Frank.

Thus then; make thy self ready: at the furthest house Upon the Green, without the Town, your Unckle Expects you. For a little time farewel.

Win.

Sweet, We shall meet again as soon as thou canst possibly?

Frank.

We shall. One kiss. Away.

Ent. Sir Art. Clarington.

Sir Art.

Frank Thorney.

Frank.

Here Sir.

Sir Art.

Alone? then must I tell thee in plain terms, thou hast wrong'd thy Master's house basely and lewdly.

Frank.

Your house, Sir?

Sir Art.

Yes, Sir, if the nimble devil That wanton'd in your blood, rebell'd against All rules of honest duty. You might, Sir, Have found out some more fitting place then here, To have built a Stewes in. All the Country whispers How shamefully thou hast undone a Maid, Approv'd for modest life, for civil carriage, Till thy prevailing perjuries entic'd her To forfeit shame. Will you be honest yet? Make her amends and marry her?

Frank.

So, Sir, I might bring both my self and her to beggery; And that would be a shame worse then the other.

Sir Art.

You should have thought on this before, and then Your reason would have oversway'd the passion Of your unruly lust. But that you may Be left without excuse, to salve the infamy Of my disgraced house, and 'cause you are A Gentleman, and both of you my servants, I'll make the Maid a portion.

Frank.

So you promis'd me Before, in case I married her. I know Sir Arthur Clarington deserves the credit Report hath lent him; and presume you are A Debtor to your promise: but upon What certainty shall I resolve? Excuse me

For being somewhat rude.

Sir Art.

'Tis but reason. Well Frank, what thinkst thou of 200 l. And a continual friend?

Fra.

Though my poor fortunes Might happily prefer me to a choice Of a far greater portion; yet to right A wronged Maid, and to preserve your favour, I am content to accept your proffer.

Sir Art.

Art thou?

Frank.

Sir, we shall every day have need to employ The use of what you please to give.

Sir Art.

Thou shalt have't.

Fran.

Then I claim your promise. We are man and wife.

Sir Art.

Already?

Frank.

And more then so, I have promis'd her Free entertainment in her Unkle's house, Neer Waltham Abbey, where she may securely So journe, till time and my endeavours work My fathers love and liking.

Sir Art.

Honest Frank.

Frank.

I hope, Sir, you will think I cannot keep her Without a daily charge.

Sir Art.

As for the money, 'Tis all thine own; and though I cannot make thee A present payment, yet thou shalt be sure I will not fail thee.

Frank.

But our occasions.

Sir Art.

Nay, nay, talk not of your occasions, trust my boun∣ty: it shall not sleep. Hast married her, yfaith Frank?

'Tis well, 'tis passing well: then Winnifride, Once more thou art an honest woman. Frank, Thou hast a Jewel. Love her; she'll deserve it. And when to Waltham?

Frank.

She is making ready. Her Unkle stays for her.

Sir Art.

Most provident speed. Frank, I will be friend, and such a friend. Thou'lt bring her thither?

Fran.

Sir, I cannot: newly My father sent me word I should come to him.

Sir Art.

Marry, and do: I know thou hast a wit To handle him.

Frank.

I have a suit t'ye.

Sir Art.

What is't? Any thing, Frank, command it.

Frank.

That you'll please, By Letters to assure my Father, that I am not married.

Sir Art.

How?

Frank.

Some one or other Hath certainly inform'd him that I purpos'd To marry Winnifride; on which he threatned

To dis-inherit me, to prevent it, Lowly I crave your Letters, which he seeing Will credit; and I hope ere I return, On such conditions as I'll frame, his Lands Shall be assur'd.

Sir Art.

But what is that to quit My knowledge of the marriage?

Frank.

Why you were not A witness to it.

Sir Art.

I conceive: and then, His Land confirmed, thou wilt acquaint him throughly With all that's past.

Frank.

I mean no less.

Sir Art.

Provided, I never was made privy to it.

Frank.

Alas, Sir, Am I a talker?

Sir Art.

Draw thy self the Letter, I'll put my hand to it. I commend thy policy Th'art witty, witty Frank; nay, nay, 'tis fit, Dispatch it.

Frank.

I shall write effectually.

Exit.

Sir Art.

Go thy way Cuckow; have I caught the young man? One trouble then is freed. He that will feast At others cost, must be a bold fac'd guest.

Enter Win. in a riding-suit.

Win.

I have heard the news, all now is safe. The worst is past.

Sir Art.

Thy lip, wench: I must bid Farewel, for fashions sake; but I will visit thee Suddenly, Girl. This was cleanly carried: Ha! was't not Win?

Win.

Then were my happiness, That I in heart repent I did not bring him The Dower of a Virginity. Sir, forgive me; I have been much to blame. Had not my Laundress Given way to your immoderate waste of Vertue, You had not with such eagerness pursu'd The error of your goodness.

Sir Art.

Dear, dear Win. I hug this Art of thine, it snews how cleanly Thou canst beguile in case occasion serve, To practice. It becomes thee, now we share Free scope enough, without controle or fear, To interchange our pleasures; we will surfeit In our embraces, Wench. Come, tell me, when Wilt thou appoint a meeting?

Win.

What to do?

Sir Art.

Good, good, to con the lesson of our loves, Our secret game.

Win.

O blush to speak it further!

As y' are a noble Gentleman, forget A sin so monstrous: 'tis not gently done, To open a cur'd wound. I know you speak For trial; troth you need not.

Sir Art.

I for trial? Not I, by this good Sun-shine.

Win.

Can you name That syllable of good, and yet not tremble, To think to what a foul and black intent, You use it for an Oath? Let me resolve you, If you appear in any Visitation That brings not with it pity for the wrongs Done to abused Thorney, my kinde husband; If you infect mine ear with any breath That is not throughly perfum'd with sighs For former deeds of lust: May I be curs'd Even in my prayers, when I vouchsafe To see or hear you. I will change my life, From a loose whore, to a repentant wife.

Sir Art.

Wilt thou turn monster now? art not asham'd After so many months to be honest at last? Away, away, fie on't.

Win.

My resolution Is built upon a Rock. This very day Young Thorney vow'd with Oaths not to be doubted, That never any change of love should cancel The bonds in which we are to either bound, Of lasting truth. And shall I then for my part Unfile the sacred Oath set on Record In Heaven's Book? Sir Arthur, do not study To add to your lascivious lust, the sin Of Sacriledge: for if you but endeavour By any unchaste word to tempt my constancy, You strive as much as in you lies to ruine A Temple hallowed to the purity Of holy Marriage. I have said enough: You may believe me.

Sir Art.

Get you to your Nunnery, There freeze in your old Cloyster. This is fine.

Win.

Good Angels guide me. Sir, you'l give me leave To weep and pray for your co••••ersion.

Sir Art.

Yes, away to Waltham. Pox on your honesty.

Had you no other trick to fool me? Well, You may want mony yet.

Win.

None that I'll send for To you, for hire of a damnation. When I am gone, think on my just complaint: I was your Devil, O be you my Saint!

Exit Win.

Sir Art.

Go, go thy ways, as changeable a baggage As ever cozen'd Knight. I'm glad I'm rid of her. Honest? marry hang her. Thorney is my Debtor, I thought to have paid him too: but fools have fortune.

Exit S. A.