Dame Dobson, or, The cunning woman a comedy as it is acted at the Duke's Theatre / by Edward Ravenscroft ...

ACT IV.

SCENE I.

Enter Dame Dobson, and Mr. Gerrald.

Dame.

MR. Gerrard, I see you are come to visit me agen.

Gerr.

I am your Convert; finding my Pistols by your means, hath given me an absolute belief in every thing you say or do: Was there not a North-Country Lady with you?

Dame.

Yes, a pretended Heiress. They thought to deceive me with a Story of her being stolen away and Marry'd.

Gerr.

What cou'd be more strange than the Discovery of that? 'Twas the Countess—to whom the Collonel layes such a close Siege! She is absolutely resolv'd never to have any farther Correspondence with him: And for proof of't. I am to call on her some time to Day to wait on her hither.

Dame.

What to do?

Gerr.

To desire a Charm of you to make her forget the Collonel.

Dame.

I am at her Service.

Gerr.

But good Dame Dobson, now you have done me the favour so absolute∣ly to convince me of your profound Knowledge. I have one more favour to beg of you.

Dame.

What is that?

Gerr.

I am a man that love my Pleasure; I hate delays and laying Siege to Women: who sometimes wanting a little Inclination to betray 'em within, will hold out longer than fortify'd Towns. Now I am for a brisk assault, Taking, Sacking and Plundering them all in a Minute: wherefore I would purchace a Secret of you, that might make all Women that I have a mind to, to fall in love with me at first sight.

Dame.

I understand you—

Gerr.

I am by Nature very inconstant, but do not think the worse of me for't, 'tis the only way to be happy; for if we consider the thing right, what can be more miserable than a constant Lover.

Dame.

Most men are of your mind.

Gerr.

Fully to enjoy the sweets of love, we must love all that are Fair and

Beautiful: The tall, the short, the lean, the plump, the fair, the black, the brisk, airy, wild and the sober phlegmatick demure Lady: They have all some different Charm, and something peculiarly pleasant and diverting in their way of loving, which others have not; and therefore a Lover cannot be completely happy that confines himself to any one, or indeed to less than all.

Dame.

You are one of an extraordinary Gusto.

Gerr.

I am experienc'd, and know Women: There is a sort of 'em that are proud, haughty, and imperious, who think it a scorn that any man in the World shou'd say he has had the advantage of 'em. There are others of a cold Con∣stitution by Nature, and insensible: Some that nothing can change, when once they have plac'd their Affections. And as this sort are very pleasant and de∣lightful to a man, whil'st his appetite serves; so are they a most troublesome sort of Cattle, when a Lover begins to retreat: They are Killing, Stabbing, and Poisoning: Others there are that have a natural Aversion both to Love and to Mankind.

Dame.

Those sure are Monsters in Nature!

Gerr.

They are dough-bak'd Women; there wanted heat at their Genera∣tion: And there's as great a difference betwixt them and other Women, as in the Chickens that are hatch'd by the heat of an Oven, and those under a Hen!

Dame.

There is a great difference indeed: But now as to your Business! I won't say 'tis above my Power; but as I cannot absolutely effect it without the utmost severity of Art, and the most rigorous of my Conjurations, to assemble the Spirits that are most stubborn and difficult to obey; so it cannot be done in a day; and you will not in less than six Months perceive that I have compass'd for you what you desire.

Gerr.

But will you assure me that in Six Months or such a time, I shall have power over all Women that please my fancy?

Dame.

There is one little difficulty which incapacitates me absolutely to pro∣mise; but if that obstacle were remov'd—

Gerr.

What is't?

Dame.

I shall need a Composition of Gold, which is a Soveraign Metal, and is essentially necessary to my performance of this Affair.

Gerr.

I understand you: There are 40 Guinneys for the present, I was just going to offer it you.

Dame.

Nay,—I ask not any for my self; I'le freely bestow my pains, but this is for an Ingredient; my Spirits shall go to work upon these, and have time enough to talk before the six Months are expir'd.

Gerr.

I shall live in a great expectation of the good hour.

Dame.

I wou'd willingly have contriv'd to have done you the Kindness with∣out putting you to the Expence, but that it was impossible to be done without an Extract of Gold; which truly prepar'd and rightly administred, will have a strange Dominion over the Spirits of Women. You see what Miracles it works in its simple Native state, with its gross Elements about it; what then will it do when my Spirits have ref•…•…'d it, by the help of my Art?

Gerr.

And how is it to be us'd?

Dame.

I convert it into Powder; which put into a Gold Case, with some

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Ceremonies us'd to it, and mystick Characters engraven upon't; and wor•…•… a∣bout your Neck, will have a secret power to produce a Sympathy in the Breasts of all Ladies, for whom your Heart feels any Inclination: And as your desires increase or abate, so will their loves to you.—

Gerr.

You are an admirable Woman if you effect this.

Dame.

Nothing can hinder't but your want of Faith.

•…•…err.

Which shall be strong, that your Charms may prove so too.

Enter Beatrice, whispers to Dame Dobson.

Dame.

I'le go to her, stay you here; and when he's gone, give us notice.

Exit Beat.

Sir, I must leave you, some urgent▪ Occasions require me within; but rest confident and assur'd that from my Art you shall become a Bean Gorson amongst the Ladies.

Exit Dame.

Gerr.

Having made it my Business so long to decry this Woman, and call'd every body Fool that had any thing to do with her; am I my self after all be∣come her Bubble? her demand of Gold for an Ingredient, looks like a Whea∣dle: And besides the present Sume▪ she has laid her Train to draw more •…•…rom me for the future: But yet her revealing to me my Pistols, and her discovery of the Cheat of the pretended North Country Heiress, are things that perswade me to a Confidence that she can do strange matters: But if she shou'd Cheat me after all—I'le have the wit to hold my tongue, and not let it be known; so I sha'nt be laugh'd at, at least—

Ex:

Re-enter Beatrice.

Beat.

Dame, Mr. Gerrard is gone.

SCENE II.

Enter Dame Dobson, and Prudence.

Dame.

MRs. Prudence, walk in here then.

Beatrice,

stand you Centinel, and give me timely notice who comes.

Ex. Beat.

Come now to our China Vessel; what became of the Jarr.

Prud.

I came on purpose to give you an account, when we went up to Bed, we lockt the Door on the inside, she lay'd the Key under her Bolster. The question then was, whether we shou'd put out the Candle or not? at last we consider'd, that if we shou'd see the Spirit, the sight wou'd fright us out of our wits. And that it wou'd be enough to hear it fall! That done, I had the string ready which I had prepar'd with a running knot, and as I came to Bed in the dark from the Chimney, where I put out the light, I stept and put it o're the Neck of the Jarr; and unwound the bottom all along, as I crept to the Bed side.—I was no sooner lay'd, but my Lady crept close to me, and clasp'd her Arm

round my waste, and every now and then fancying a Noise, she'd say—Oh we are undone! we are undone! but with a soft low voice, for she was afraid to cry out, lest the Spirit shou'd know we were there.

Dame.

How cou'd you forbear laughing?

Prud.

With much ado, at last I gave the Cord a twitch, down comes 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Urn, the noise made her shreik out.—I seconded her with ah, I am dead, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 dead: She slunk down o're head and ears in the Bed—I did the same; 〈◊〉〈◊〉 half an hours Palpitation of the heart, not daring to stir or speak all that 〈◊〉〈◊〉 till she was almost smother'd. She bid me get up and see in what condition 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Jarr was.

Dame.

Broken all in pieces, I warrant you!

Prud.

No, the Jarr it self was whole, it happen'd to fall upon the Quilt of the Couch, and from thence rowl'd down upon the Tapestry Carpet that was spread upon the floor of the Alcove; but the Cover fell so, as it broke in the middle.

Dame.

What said she then?

Prud.

She past away the rest of the Night in a great deal of disquiet, lest her old man shou'd not die; she'll come to you—sometime to day, to know what Comfortable News you'll give her; at present she's much dishearten'd.

Dame.

I'le satisfie her when she comes, I warrant you.

Prud.

Now I have told you all, I'le begon: I stole out to come hither. And if I am mist must make some excuse.

Dame.

Yes, for she must not know you have bin here.

Enter Beatrice.

Beat.

Dame—here is Mr. Heartall come to speak with you.

Prud.

He knows me to belong to my Lady, I'le put my Hoods o're my face, and steal by him.

Dame.

No, go out that way, Beatrice will show you.

Ex. Prud. and Beat.

Enter Sir, enter.

Enter Heartall.

Well Sir,—How goes our Business?

Heart.

Nothing better. After I left you yesterday—I went two or three miles out of Town in a Hackney-Coach, the Glasses drawn up that nobody might see me. Towards Evening I took Post, and came to Town, and light from my Horse at my Widows Door, by good luck she was just then looking out of the Window, expecting me; she received me with joy. We enter'd into a serious discourse of Love, and after a thousand Protestations of Kindness, she assur'd me that within three days I shall be entirely happy.

Dame.

She'll Marry you then.

Heart.

We then made a Contract before witness. That Circumstance of kissing her Picture in my Retirement, wrought much upon her: She thinks she cannot enough reward my fidelity.

Dame.

I am glad I contributed so much to your Fortune.

Heart.

I'l ever acknowledge your Favours; but let me tell you, That what you have done for me, redounds much to your advantage, and has extremely advanc'd your Reputation: She has told somebody what past yesterday betwixt you, it is in every bodies mouth.—I have already met four or five of my Friends 〈◊〉〈◊〉 have enquir'd of me if it was true, that I was yesterday Thirty miles off.

Dame.

Do not undeceive 'em by no means.

Heart.

Never. I protested to 'em all, that I was at Tunbridge; and that 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Post and came to Town upon account of a Letter I receiv'd at Twelve 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

Enter Beatrice.

Beat.

The Collonel is come.

Heart.

I find you are full of Practice still: I'le come agen in the Evening, and bring my thanks with me for all your Kindness.

Dame.

You need not concern your self about that: I think my self indebted to you, that you have given the World this Confirmation of my Skill, so much to my advantage. And I will rest extremely well satisfy'd—if you will but stay and discourse the Collonel a little: He's an unbelieving Enemy of mine, and I would do all I can to bring him over to my side, and in this you may serve me.

Heart.

'Tis ten to one but he'll be enquiring, the truth of this Business; and a Confirmation from my mouth may prevail much.

Dame.

I'le retire, and give you opportunity. Take no notice that you have spoke with me yet; but say you are told I am very busie upon some great Design.

Heart.

I'le observe Orders.

Dame.

Go Beatrice, bring in the Collonel.

Exit Dame.

Enter Collonel.

Coll.

How, Mr. Heartwell in Town!

Heart.

A Letter which I receiv'd yesterday at Noon from the Party you know of, brought me so soon to Town; She was at last so kind to Command my return.

Coll.

She was here yesterday to consult Dame Dobson in matters relating to you; and as she herself affirms, Dame Dobson show'd her you in a Glass kissing her Picture.

Heart.

'Tis true, that I often paid my Devotions to her Picture when I was absent.

Coll.

And that she writ to you to Tunbridge at the same time, to come with all speed to Town, and a Spirit convey'd her Letter, and brought back an An∣swer from you in less than a quarter of an hour.

Herrt.

What is't you tell me? Yet now I think on't, her Express must have bin the Devil, otherwise he cou'd not have bin here before me.

Coll.

Then you believe it was the Devil.

Heart.

Perhaps you only tell me this to laugh at me, or try my Confidence in this Woman, because you find me here: But 'tis very true that in my Solitude I was musing on my Window, and kissing her Picture just when the Messenger 〈◊〉〈◊〉 me the Letter.

Coll.

You did kiss it then, and she writ to you, and you answer'd the Letter immediately? I know not what to think.

Heart.

I am as much surpriz'd as you, but I wonder'd I cou'd not overtake the Messenger; for I mounted immediately, and had a Horse under me so fleet, I durst venture to run him with most New-Market Racers; yet he was 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 fore me, and had deliver'd my Letter long e're I came.

Coll.

The Circumstances of your confirmation render it yet more 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Did you not stop by the way?

Heart.

No,—I rid as if it had bin upon Life and Death.

Coll.

I confess now I know not what to think of this Cunning Woman.

Heart.

I do not know whether it may be proper for me to enquire any thin•…•… of her now or not, concerning this matter ▪ I came to be resolv'd in some doubts relating to my Mistress, but she having bin here before, I'le let it alone: Be∣sides I am told here, that old Dame Dobson is extremely busie.—I have outstay'd my time already, and I cannot conveniently tarry any longer—beside, Collonel, I owe that respect to you.

Coll.

I hope I am not the Occasion of your going away, my business is but Curiosity,—I am in no great haste.

Heart.

I have alter'd my mind, since you have told me she has bin here, and and in two or three days I shall be resolv'd in my scruples, if the Widow keeps her word: And I think I need not doubt it after those assurances which she has given me since my coming to Town.

Coll.

I am glad to hear you are so far advanc'd towards your Happiness.

Heart.

'Tis so.—Collonel, Your most humble Servant.

Exit Heartwell.

Enter Dame Dobson.

Dame.

Well Sir, your North Country Lady. Where?

Coll.

She's afraid to come, but that's pardonable in a Woman; I confess you surpriz'd me, I did not think you could have found out that we came to put a trick upon you. And I more wonder at that, than I shou'd at your Familiar or Devil, you talkt of shewing us.—

Dame.

O 'tis a hard thing to deceive me. I hold intelligence with those Spirits that inform me of every thing.

Coll.

Come, leave talking of Spirits, those are Stories to be told to Women and Fools; let me understand the reality of the thing.

Enter Beatrice.

Beat.

O Dame!

Dame.

What's the matter, Beatrice?

Beat.

Here's the rich Country Gentleman come to Town agen, he that told you 〈◊〉〈◊〉 many Thousand Pounds he got by Farming the Chimney Money of his County.

Dame.

What he that we fobb'd out of his Money with our Counterfeit Widow!

Beat.

The same!

Dame.

Tell him I am not at Home.

Beat.

I have; but he swears and stares. And says, he'll search every Rome in the House.

Dame.

Say—I am not at leisure; and that there's a Person of Quality with me.

Beat.

I told him that too, when he said so; but he swore busie or not busie, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 speak to you. And wou'd come in, tho' all the Devils of Hell were 〈◊〉〈◊〉 •…•…ou.

•…•…ame.

His coming at this time will ruine me.

Beat.

All I cou'd prevail with him in, was but to have patience, till I came in, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 •…•…old you he was at the Door.

Dame.

I must not speak with him till the Collonel's gone; if he sees me 〈◊〉〈◊〉 open his Throat, and out with all before him. And then there'l be no come off for me.

Coll.

I perceive, Dame, you are disturb'd; what's the matter?

Dame.

There is without a Rustick sort of a Country Gentleman, that will not be deny'd Admittance; one that comes to be angry with me upon a mistake, at another time I shou'd have good sport with him: But now his presence wou'd be troublesom, and divert me from pleasuring you in what you have a mind to know or see.

Coll.

Let him come in—I'le give him his answer. I am here first.

Dame.

Doubtless—he'll have respect to your Garb and Quality. Let him come any other time, and I'le satisfie him in all he can demand.

Coll.

Call him in.

Dame.

I'le retire in the mean time to dispatch another small Affair in order to my Business with you. Call him in Beatrice, I'le be at my list'ning hole, when he goes out follow him cl•…•…se at heels, and bolt the Street Door after him.—

Exit Dame and Beat. se•…•…erally.

Enter Mr. Farmer.

•…•…arm.

Ha, Noble Collonel!

Coll.

Who, Mr. Farmer!

Farm.

Lord, Collonel, who'd have thought to have seen you here?

Coll.

Why d'ee wonder at that? You come here. Every body comes here. And I amongst the rest.

Farm.

I am too much your humble Servant, not to inform you of what I know; you come to a VVoman here that is the greatest Cheat this day upon the Earth: if I shou'd tell you what a Trick she has play'd me.—

Coll.

How! And every body tells such wonders of her?

Farm.

Ay, a Company of Fools like my self. I have bin her Milch Cow, till of late; but my eyes are open: if you'll have patience to hear it. I'le give you a Relation of the Jigg she has play'd me.

Coll.

VVhat, she has conjur'd for you then!

Farm.

Oh finely, under pretence of helping me to a rich VVidow, has cheated me out of 600l. but that's past, such an Owl as a Country Clodpate was; a fine Bird for her to pluck.

Coll.

She has had good store of your Guinneys then!

Farm.

She is a Cut-purse, a Cut-throat; be you judge of the fine Doings

of my Dame Dobson, who has conspir'd with that Cockatrice to Cheat me of such a Sum; but I'le have her apprehended, and Burnt for a VVitch, or Hang'd for a Cheat at least.

Coll.

Be not in haste, she may come off by saying that what you reproac•…•… her with, is but a story of your own Invention; I came here to have some proofs of her Conjuring, I shall catch her in her Roguery, and that joy•…•…'d with your Charge against her, will make well for your purpose and mine too.

Farm.

Now I am convinc'd, that all her Supernatural Informations and Con∣jurings are meer Artifice and Cunning; yet she has shew'd me strange things that have frighted me to the very heart—And I know not, but you—

Coll.

I am faithless of all that, and fearless. I'le put her to her Trumps; go you to the next Tavern, and stay my coming, when I have done here I'le come to you, there I'le hear your Story at large, we'll lay our heads together how to regain your 600l. and be reveng'd on her, for the Injuries she has done me.

Farm.

I will be counsell'd by you; And I hope 'twill prove to the Advantage of us both. Collonel, I'le expect you at the Rose.

Exit Farmer.

Coll.

So—Now to mannage this Business to the best advantage.

Enter Dame Dobson.

Dame.

What is he gone? why did not this Wench call me? where are you Beatrice? you are so negligent in your Duty. I am sorry I did not know it sooner.

Coll.

He is but just gone.

Dame.

You had much ado to perswade him then?—

Coll.

He us'd many Arguments to stay, and pretended earnest business with you.

Dame.

'Tis a wonder he did not tell it you.

Coll.

No!

Dame.

'Twill be a fortunate Chuff; tho' at present he's in a peck of Troubles about 600l. which he thinks he's Cheated of: But is in the hands of a rich young Widow, to whom he will certainly be Married in a very short time.

Coll.

Say you so?—he's no very handsom Man.

Dame.

But she loves him desperately; she came to me to know what kind of Husband he'll prove: I certify'd her from the infallible Rules of my Art: But she for all that to try his Temper, perswaded me into a Plot against him, to see how he'll bear the loss of so much Money, and whether he'll be more troubled for the loss of her Person, or such a Sum.

Coll.

Then he'll have the Money agen by marrying the Widdow.

Dame.

She has order'd some Friends to pay him the Money a Month hence here in Town, when she has heard what humour he's of.

Coll.

Then 'twas her he threaten'd, he call'd somebody Cheating Baggage several times, and threaten'd; how will she like that? This may go nigh to break off the Match!

Dame.

No: 'tis his Fate to Marry her. The Stars have so decreed it, and my Art has foretold it; therefore it must be, but let us talk no more on't now another time I'le tell you a pleasant Story how we have mannag'd him in this Affair.

Coll.

This is a Cunning Devil: how she has confounded me agen?

Dame.

You were going on in a Discourse before we were interrupted. In which you seem'd to desire something of me, do you remember what you were going to ask?—

Coll.

I was pressing you to let me understand the mystery of your Practice, •…•…d the reality▪ of your Art; for I know 'tis all but Subtlety, and Delusion: 〈◊〉〈◊〉 may tell me; I am not one that will hinder your advantage; every one must live in the World, and I am a well-wisher to Ingenuity: I know that all persons from the highest to the lowest act for their advantage, and Profit is the thing they aim at.

Dame.

How! Profit! who do you take me for? There is no deceit-Sir in what I perform: I am as good as my word to every Body; nay, I would not be worse than my word to the Devil—So far I am from what you say!—

Coll.

I believe you.——We ought to be as good as our word to every one: But yet hold a little, Dame Dobson confess to me that the greatest of your Skill is to know how to deceive Cunningly; and I'le esteem you the more for it: I will commend your Ingenuity, and if you'll shew me how you mannage your Affairs, I will be more beneficial to you, than are the silly Fools you fright in∣to such admira•…•…ion.

Dame.

Your false Presumption makes you insult too much; have a care you come to no harm. I have not the least intention of ill to you; but here are those that will take my part. And though you see nothing, they hear what you say in derogation to my Honour, and their Power. And 'tis not safe for you to talk so any longer.

Coll.

You speak this to a man that is insensible of fear. I laugh at all your Devils and Familiars, and your Spirits of Intelligence: I defy 'em: Let 'em come: Let—'em appear quickly. I'le play the Devil among'st 'em. What silly Business is this! I can do as much when I please, my self; but I thought I heard something fall down.

Dame Dobson walks about with pre∣cipitation, looks upward and down∣ward, mutters to her self. After that Thunder and Lightning is seen to flash down the Chimny.

Dame.

Look nearer, and see what's there?

Coll.

See: yes, without the least apprehension of fear.

Dame.

It may be as stout Men as your self have bin afraid. Whence comes your silence? what you are amaz'd?

The other parts of the Body fall down the Chimny.

Coll.

I did not expect this Sight of horror; a Humane Body torn Limb from Limb. Do you Murder folks here?

Dame.

If you'll take my advice, go your way.

Coll.

I go away!

Dame.

Ne'r strive to hide it: I see fear has seiz'd you.

Coll.

I acknowledge I have some concern on me; But it proceeds only from the misfortune of this poor mangled Wretch.

Dame.

Since you are so troubled at that, I'le bring him to life agen. You go back, and hang down your head; you are asham'd now to let me see that you are afraid; but I'le forget you have insulted, and release you from this fright.

She waves her wand in the Air, the Thun∣der and Lightning redoubles, during which the Parts of the Body approach and joyn together. The Body rises and walks to the middle of the Stage.

Go! return from whence thou camest, and be as thou wert before the Power of my Commands forc'd thee to appear.—

The Body vanishes.

Coll.

Where is the thing I saw? I perceiv'd a Man to move towards me; where is't? I wou'd fain have spoken to it.

Dame.

Your Voice is faint and trembling; you told me you were one that fear'd nothing.

Coll.

The Sight was so extraordinary, that I may well be allowed a little surprize; but as for being afraid, you do mean injury if you think so.

Dame.

You chang'd Count'nance more than once; what wou'd you have done if I had show'd you what you have so long in vain endeavour'd to see.

Coll.

Ay the Devil. I'le give you a Hundred Guinnies to shew me that Sight.

Dame.

You d'be scar'd out o'your Wits.

Coll.

I will be as good as my word if you can shew me the Devil. And I'le then say you are what you pretend to be, without that I am an Insidel still—

Dame.

Since 'tis so—I will. Fortifie your self with Courage, and come agen in the Evening.

Coll.

You are in earnest?

Dame.

In very good earnest: I'le see how couragiously you'll stand the brunt of such an amazing Object. You'll be sure to come?

Coll.

Yes; but you'll engage I shall return in safety.

Dame.

Safe from every thing but your own fear: If fear kill you, I cannot help that.

Coll.

May I not bring a Friend along with me?

Dame.

No, you must come alone.

Coll.

Adieu then Dame. I'le be sure to come.

Exit Collonel.

Dame.

You'll consider better on't; but come not, or come; your valour is but a Bravado: I know the strength of your Constitution now. And since this Sight made your Courage retreat so, the next shall rout it quite. And give it such an overthrow, it shall never rally hereafter to my prejudice. And this Imports me more than ever, now you are joyn'd in Confederacy against me.—

Exit Dame.