O Lord, I swear you pose me with your great civilities: I profess you do.
'Tis impossible you should keep long from being Dignified.
Thou most insolent of Pedants, thou silly formal Thing with a stiff plain band, a lit∣tle parsonical Grogram and a Girdle thou art so proud of, in which thou wouldest do well to hang thy self; some have vouchsaf'd to use it to that purpose: Thou that never wert but a Curate,—a Iourney-man Divine, as thy Father was a Iourney-man Taylor, before he could set up for himself, to have the impudence to pretend love to me!
My function yet, I say, deserves more reverence.
Does it make you not an Ass, or not a Taylors Son?
It equals me with the best of Gentry.
How Arrogance! Can any power give honour but the Kings? This is Popery, I•e have you trounc'd. Could it once enter into thy vain pate, that I could be contented with the pittiful equipage of a Parsons Wife? Bless me• to be carried home to an antique building, with narrow windows, and huge Iron-bars, like an old Iail in some Country Burrough, wickedly abus'd too with delapidations. To lye in Darneux Curtains, and a Beds-Tester, carv'd with Idolatrous Images, out of two load of old Timber: or to have for a Friend or a Lying in, one better, one of worsted Chamblet, and to be drest and undrest by my Cookmaid, who is my Woman and my Chambermaid, and serves me and the Hogs.
I intend none of these. I assure you my House shall be—
I know what it will be: your Parlour hung with Green printed stuff, of the new fa∣shion, with guilt Leather in panes, a fingers breadth at least, sruft up with a great many stinking Russia Leather Chairs, and an odious Carpet of the same: Then Shelves on one side of your Chimney for a pair of Tables, A Chess-board, your frame of Wax Candle and To∣bacco-pipes.
No, no, no, Madam.
On the other side, Shelves for huge Folices, by which you would be counted a great read man; vast large volumes of expositions upon a short Creed; some Twenty folio's upon the Ten Commandments; Lauds, Heylins, Andrews, and Tom Fullers works, with perhaps a piece of Austin, to shew you understand a little Latin; and this is your Ecclesiastical furni∣ture, very fit for a Gentlewoman's eating room is it not?
I understand the mode, Madam, and contemn such vulgar Ornaments.
And in this Parlour to eat Five Tithe-Piggs in a week, brought in by my Woman-Chambermaid, Wash-maid, Cook-maid, &c. And if it be not a working day, waited on by your Groom, Ploughman, Carter, Butler, Tithe-gatherer all in one, with Horse-naild Shoes; his head new kemb•d and slick'd, with a starc'd-Band and no Cuffs.
My merits will provide you better, please to bear me.
Yes, I know your merits. Then to quible with you, for my desert, your Back-side of half an Acre, with some Sixteen Trees of Marygold and Sweeting-Apples, Horse-Plums, and Warden-pares, hem•d in with panes of antique crumbling Clay; where I should have six Hives of Bees, and you a Mare and Feal, going with a Peacock and Hen.
All these I much despise would you hea•.
Hear, yes, how I should have nothing to entertain my Visitors with, but stew'd Prunes and H•nycombs, and flying Ale bottled with Lymen-pill, without all sight of Wine. And should I march abroad to visit, •would be behind my Can•nical Husband, perhaps upon a pied ••ld Mare big with Foal, holding both hands upon his Girdle, and when at place appointed I arrive, for want of Groom, off slips my nimble Husband first, then helps me down. And now, Fo•l, I have painted thee, and what thou art to trust to, in thy colours.
I beseech you, Madam, moderate your passions: Hear my propositions.
No, Impudence, my Father shall hear 'em.
I beseech you, Madam, for Heavens sake, that will undo me. I shall desist, I shall desist.
Sweet Sir, what is befallen you? has my Lady anger'd you? If she can, her heart is not like mine.
Nothing, Mrs. Susan, nothing, but to be thus dispis'd.
Dear Sir, can I serve you in any thing? I am bound. I ne're have been so elevated by any man; methinks I never should have enough of your powerful Mi∣•istry sweet Sir.
Pish: If she tells her Father I am ruin'd.
This creature is in Love with me: But shall my prodigious natural parts, and no less amazing acquisitions in Metaphysicks and School'd Divinity be cast upon a Chamber∣maid? Farewell, I must not be too familiar.
So scornful! Cruel creature, I will soften thee yet. Have I for thee set days and nights cross-Legg'd and sigh'd before thou cam'st hither? And fasted on St. Agnes night for thee? And since thy coming have tied three coulour'd True Loves Knots, quill'd thy Cuffs and startch•d thy Band my self, and never fail'd thee of thy morning Ca•dle or Jelly Broath? have I already put my Hair and Nails in Powder in thy Drink, and put a live Fish in a part about me till it died, and then gave it thee to eat in thy Drink, and all for this? Well, I will mollify thee. And Mother Demdike shall help me to morrow: I•le to her, and discourse her about it. If I have breath, I cannot live without him.
Susan, Go tell my Cousin Theodosia, I would speak with her.
I will Sir.
Pshaw, now must I be troubled with making Love; a deuce take it for me: I had rather be a Coursing an twere time o•th day.
Now Son, for your own good and my satisfaction, I would have you (since her Father and I am agreed) to settle this business, and marry with Theodosia with all the speed that can be.
What haste Sir? For my part I care not for Marriage, not I. I love my Neighbours, a Cup of Ale, and my sports, I care for nought else.
(But that thy Mother was too vertuous for my suspition) I should think that by thy •ordid mind thou wert a Stranger to my Blood; and, if you be not rul'd by me, assure your self I'le make you a stranger to my Estate.
What does he mean now? hah, to disinherit me?
No, part of its entail•d; and if you will not marry where I direct you, your Sister will obey me, and may bring me one to inherit it. Consider that.
Here comes your Mistriss, beautiful and good as any of her Sex. Sweet Cousin be pleas'd to stay one moment with my Son: I•le wait on you again.
Your Servant Sir. How shall I be entertain'd by this Dolt! How much ra∣ther had he be with Country Justices and Farmers, in a low Thatch'd House, with a smooth Black Pot of Ale in his hand, or with his Kites, Dogs and Cattel?
What a Devil shall I say to her now? I had as leive knock my head against the wall as make Love. Will you please to sit down Cousin?
Ay Cousin. And fall fast a-sleep if I can.
'Twas a great Storm, and rose very suddainly to night Cousin.
'Tis so, What a Devil shall I say more? Would I were at six go downs •pon reputation, in Ale, with honest Tom Shaklehead.
Six minutes past eight by mine.
Mine goes faster, Is yours Aspenwolds?
'Tis a very pretty one! Pish, I can go no farther, not I.
But it got you nothing to your Stomack.
You have heard the story, we cours'd a Witch all day instead of a Hair; Mother Demdike.
Tis well you did not catch her, she would have been very tough meat.
Ha, ha, ha, well I •ow that•s very well. I hope Sir Ieffery will hang the Wit•h; I am sure she has tired my Dogs and me so, that I am so sleepy I can scarce hold up my head by•r Lady.
I am tired too: This dulness is almost as tedious as his making of Love would be.
If 'twould hold up now, we should have fine weather for Hawking to morrow, and then have at the Powts.
Your Hawks would not fly at Mother Demdike too.
Nay, marry I cannot tell: But would you would go a Hawking, you should ride upon a Pad of mine, should carry you with a Bumper in your hand, and not spill a drop.
I am for no Field sports I thank you Sir.
Now can't I speak a word more.
Now methinks we are meer man and Wife already, without marrying for the matter. Hah, he's a-sleep, and snores like the Base-pipe of an Organ: Tho' I like his indifference better than I should his Love; yet I have no patience to bear sleeping in my face; that's a little too much.
Oh Lord, what's that! Oh Mother Demdike! Oh, oh, the Witch, the Witch!
He talks in his sleep, I believe, e'en as well, as when he's awake.
Murder, murder, oh help, the Witch; oh the Witch, oh, oh, Mother Demdike!
He talks and dreams of the Witch: I'le try a trick with him.
Oh help, help, the Witch, the Witch, ay there she vanisht: I saw her, oh she flew up the Chimney. I'le go to Sir Ieffery, and take my Oath presently. Oh I am fore frightned.
Oh Madam, are you there? I have done your errant.
Your Servant Cousin.
Your Ladiships humble Servent.
Look you Cousin, Lady me no Ladies, unless you be civiller to Sir Timo∣thy.
Look you there.
I suppose you are not ignorant who we are.
Nay, prithee, Sir Ieffery, hold; Let me alone.
Nay, go on my Dear, thou shalt have it; well, thou art as notable a wo∣man as any is within Fifty miles of thy head, I•le say that for thee.
Pray Cousin conceive me, breeding is a fine thing; but you have always liv'd in the Country▪ I have, for my part, been often at London, lodg'd in Covent-Gar∣den ay, and been in the drawing Room too. Poor creature, she does not know what that is.
Pray mind my Chicken, she's the best bred Woman in the Country.
Pray spare me Sir Ieffery, here's Sir Timothy, I have bred him with great care and charges at Oxford and the Inns of Court.
Ay, and I have been in the Drawing-Room too.
I have gotten him Knighted too, for mine and Sir Iefferies services, which we have perform'd in governing the Country about us so well.
What does your Ladyship drive at?
Ay, you know well enough: Now you look as if Butter would not melt in your mouth.
Besides, let me tell you, Sir Timothy's person's as charming as anothers; his shape and height perfect, his Face, though I say it, exceeding good, his Eyes vigor∣ous and sparkling his Nose and Chin resembling our Family; in short, Nature has not been negligent in his Composition.
Well, thou art the best spoken Woman in England, I'le say that for thee.
I confess all this Madam.
Oh, do you so.
Pray give me leave, not one Knight in the Land dresses better, or wears better fancied Garniture, or better P•riwigs.
My Triming's my own fancy; and the best Wigg-maker in England, one in Crooked-lane works for me.
Hold Sir Timothy, I say these things premis'd, it is not •it to use my Son uncivilly: I am loath to complain to your Father, consider and be wise. I know we are politickly coy, that's decent; I, my self, was so to Sir Ieffery.
Ay by'r Lady was she. Well, I thought I should never have won thee▪ Thou wert a parlous Girl.
But I was never uncivil.
I know not what you mean! I uncivil to my dear Cousin! what mak•s thee think so? I assure your Ladiship I value him as he deserves. What Cousin art angry for a jest? I think no man like him for my part.
Why, look you Sir Timothy.
Nay Sir Timothy, you are to blame, jesting shews ones kindness, go too.
I swear and vow I thought you had been in earnest Cousin. I am your humble Servant.
Well, wee'l leave you together.
Come on Boy, stand up to her, Gad I bore up briskly to thy Mother be∣fore I won her. Ah, when I was young, I would have—Well, no more to be ••id.
Come, come away, you will have your saying!
Well, but have you so good an opinion of me as you declar•d? hum—
The very same I assure you.
Ah my dear pretty Rogue! Then I•le marry you presently, and make you a La•y.
Let me see, are they out of hearing?
Come f•th, let's kiss upon that business, here's a Parson in the House; nay, feth, feth, I must kiss thee, my dear little Rogue.
Stand off Baboon, nay, a Baboon of good parts Exceeds thee; Thou Mag∣g•t, Insect, worse then any nasty thing the Sun is Father to.
What do you begin to call names again? but this is in Jest too prithee, •et me Kiss thee, pray dear, feth do.
In •est! Heaven is my witness theres not a living thing •pon Two Leggs I would not chuse before Thee.
Holloo, Wheres Sir Ieffery and my Lady?
They are out of thy hearing Oaph. 'Slife how darst thou be so Impudent to love me with that face, that can provoke nothing but laughter at best in any one? Why thou ha•t the Rickets in thy fa••: There•s no proportion, every feature by it s•lf is abominable; and put togeth•r I•tollerable. Thou hast the very Lines and air of a Piggs face, Baptista Porta would have drawn thee so.
Hah, What do you say? my face! I'le not change with e're a man in Lancashire. Face! talk of my face, Hah.
Thou art uglier than any Witch in Lancashire, and if thou wert in Womans Clothes, thy own Father would apprehend thee for one: Thy Face, I never saw so deform'd a thing on the head of an old Lyra violl. It might fright Birds from a Cherry garden: But what else tis good for, I know not.
'Sbud, now you provoke me, I must tell you, I think my self as hansome for a Man, as you are for a woman.
Oh, foh, out upon that filthy visage, My maid with her Sizars in two mi∣nutes shall Cut me a Better in brown paper. There is not a Creature upon Earth but i• a Beauty to thee; besides, thou hast a hollw Tooth would Cure the Mother beyond •r•a setida or burnt Feathers.
Well, well, You'l sing another note when I have acquainted your Father, you will.
Thou li••t, I will not▪ If I were condemnd to Death, I would not take a pardon 〈◊〉 marry thee. Set thy Fools heart at rest then, and make no more nauseous Love to m•. Thy Face to one fasting would give a vomit beyond Crocus.
You are a proud, peevish, Mi•x, and that's the best of you. Let me tell you that, hum. I can have your betters every day I rise.
How now! What says the fool?
Uds Ludlikins, huswife, If you provoke me I'le take you o' the Pate.
Thou odious, Loathsom Coxcomb, out of my sight, or I'le tear thy Eyes ou•.
Coxcomb! ha, ha, ha, ah thou are a good one. Well I say no more.
Da, da, pretty thing!
Gentlemen, the storm has oblig'd me that drove you under my Roof, I knew your Fathers well, we were in Italy together, and all of us came home with our English Religion, and our English Principles. During your stay here (which for my own sake I hope will not be short) command my House: let not your Dogs and Servants lye at Whalley; but be pleas'd to know this House is yours, and you will do me honour in commanding it.
This generosity makes good the Character that all men give of you.
A Character that England rings with, and all men of never so differing opi∣nions agree in.
Gentlemen, you do me too much honour; I would endeavour to imi∣tate the life of our English Gentry before we were corrupted with the base man∣ners of the Fren•h.
If all had had that Noble resolution, long since we had curb'd the greatness of that Monarch.
What are these Apparitions, Doubty and Bellfort!
They are they indeed. Hay, what ails my heart to beat so fast?
Methinks mine is a little too busy here.
Gentlemen, here is my Daughter and her Kinswoman, I think you saw 'em last Summer at Scarbrough.
We did Sir.
We little thought to have the honour of seeing so fine Ladies this night.
We could not expect this happiness, till next Season at the Waters.
What story is this? My Son almost frighted out of his wits with a Witch! Gentlemen, I beg your pardon for a moment.
Your humble Servant.
Nothing could be more unexpected than seeing you here!
Pray Gentlemen, How did you come?
Travelling for Whalley, where I told you, Madam, in my Letters, I would suddainly be, we lost our way by the darkness of the night, and wander•d till we came near this House, whither an honest Co•ntry fellow brought us for shelter from this dreadful Tempest.
And your Father is pleas'd to admit a brace of stray-fellows with the greatest civility in the world: But, Madam, coming safe to shore, after a Shipwrack, could not bring such joy to me, as I find in seeing you.
The Sun, to a man left a Winter at Greenland, could not be so ravishing a sight, as you dear Madam are to me.
This is Knight Errantry indeed.
Methinks they talk Romance too. But 'tis too late if they be in earnest; for the Dames are disposed of.
Not executed but condemn'd!
Beyond all hopes of mercy.
Death, Madam, you struck me to the heart: I felt your Words here.
My heart was just at my mouth, if you had not stopt it with this Cordial 'thad slown. I may live now in hope of a reprieve for you.
Our Fathers will never consent to that.
Mine will not I am sure. I have a Mother, to boot, more obstinate than he.
If they be so merciless, self-preservation, the great Law of Nature will ju∣stify your escape.
We Knight Errants, as you call us▪ will rescue you I• warrant you.
But if we leave our fools, our Fathers will leave us.
If you lose your Father, Madam, you shall find one that will value you in•initely more, and love you more tenderly.
And you, Madam, shall meet with one, whose person and whose fortune shall be always at your command.
We grow a little too serious about this matter.
'Tis from Matrimony we would fly! oh 'tis a dreadful thing.
This heresy can never be defended by you: a man must be blind that inclines to that opinion before you.
Gentlemen, I ask your pardon, be pleas'd to walk into the next Room, and take a small Collation to refresh your selves.
Your Humble Servant.
This Country Fellow that led you hither, tells me a Tale of Witches, and here's and uproar in my Family, and they say this place is haunted with them; I hope you have no faith in those things.
When I hear a very strange story, I always think 'tis more likely he should lye that tells it me, than that should be true.
'Tis a good rule for our belief.
My blood rises at them, These are damn'd Hobbists and Atheists, I'd have 'em burn• in Smithfield.
Well, these Gentlemen may perhaps go to their Servants and Horses at Whal∣l•y to morrow, where they must stay some time before we see 'em again.
We are ruin'd then: For this Marriage will be so press'd upon us, now the Writings are sealed, and Clothes bought, we shall have no way to delay it, but down∣right breaking with our Fathers.
I am resolv•d to consult with the Gentlemen this night whatever comes on't.
How canst thou possibly bring it about my Dear?
I warrant thee, a Womans wit will naturally work about these matters. Come my Dear.
s Harr,t harr,u Harr, harr, harr, hoo, hoo, hoo, sabath, sabath, sabath, Devil, Devil, Devil, dance here, dance there, play here, play there, harr, harr, harr, hoo, hoo, hoo.—