THE Lancashire-Witches, AND Tegue o Divelly THE Irish-PRIEST: A COMEDY Acted at the DUKE's Theater.
Written by THO. SHADWELL.
LONDON: Printed for Iohn Starkey at the Miter in Fleetstreet near Temple-Barr. MDCLXXXII.
TO THE READER.
FOps and Knaves are the fittest Characters for Comaedy▪ and this Town was wont to abound with variety of Vanities and Knaveries till this unhappy division. But all run now into Politicks, and you must needs, if you touch upon any humour of this time, offend one of the Parties. The Bo•nds being then so narrow, I saw there was no scope for the writing of an intire Comaedy, (wherein the Poet must have a relish of the present time) and therefore I resolved to make as good an entertainment as I could, without tying my self up to the strict rules of a Co∣maedy; which was the reason of my i•troducing of Witches. Yet I will be bold to affirm, that Young Hartfort, Sir Timothy, Smerk, and Tegue O Divelly are true Comical Characters, and have something new in 'em. And how any of these (the Scene being laid in Lancashire) could offend any Party here▪ but that of Papists, I could not imagine, till I heard that great opposition was design'd against the Play (a month before it was acted) by a Party who (being ashamed to say it was for the sake of the Irish Priest) pretended that I had written a Saty• upon the Church of England, and several profest Papists railed at it violently, before they had seen it, alledging that for a reason, such dear Friends they are to our Church. And (notwithstanding all was put out that could any way be •rested to an offence against the Church) yet they came with the greatest malice in the world to hiss it, and many that call'd themselves Protestants, •oyn'd with them in that noble enterprise.
How strict a scrutiny was made upon the Play you may easily see, for I have in my own vindication Printed it just as I first writ it; and all that was exp••∣ged is Printed in the Italick Letter. All the difference is, that I have now or∣dained Smerk, who before was a young Student in Divinity, expecting Orders and to be Chaplain to Sir Edward. The Master of the Revels (who I must confess used me civilly enough) Licenc'd it at first with little alteration: But there c•me such an Alarm to him, and a Report that it was full of dangerous refl•cti∣••s, that upon a Review, he expunged all that you see differently Printed, ex∣cept about a dozen li•es which he struck out at the first reading.
But, for all this, they came resolved to hiss at it right or wrong, and had got∣ten mercenary Fellows, who were such Fools they did not know when •o hiss, and Page [unnumbered] this was evident to all the Audience. It was wonderful to see men of great Qua∣lity and Gentlemen in so mean a Combination. But to my great satisfaction they came off as meanly as I could wish. I had, so numerous an assembly of the best sort of men, who stood so generously in my defence, for the three first days, that they qu•sh'd all the v•in attempts of my Enemies, the inconsiderable▪ Party of •issers yielded, and the Play lived in spight of them.
Had it been never so bad, I had valued the honour of having so many, and such Friends, as eminently appeared for me▪ above that of excelling the most admirable Johnson, if it were possible to be done by me.
Now, for reflecting upon the Chuch of England, you will find, by many ex∣pressions in the Play, that I intended nothing less. And I am well assured that no Learned, or Wise Divine of the Church, will believe me guilty of it. I pro∣fess to have a true value and respect for them.
But they who say that the representation of such a Fool and Knave as Smerk (who is declared to be an infamous Fellow, not of the Church, but crept into it for a Lively-hood, exposed for his Folly and Knavery, and expell'd the Family) should concern, or reflect upon the Church of England, doe sufficiently abuse it. A fo•lish Lord, or Knight is daily represented: nor are there any so silly to believe it an abuse to their Order. Should Thompson, or Mason, or any Impudent Hot-headed Tan•ivy Fool be exposed; I am confident that the Sober and the Wise Divines of the Church will be so far from thinking themselves concern'd in it, that they detest them as much as I do.
Nor should any of the Irish Nation think themselves concern'd, but Kelly (one of the Murderers of Sir Edmond-Bury Godfrey) which I make to be his feign'd Name, and Tegue O Divelly his true one. For Whores and Priests have se∣veral names still.
Some of the worsted Party of the Hissers were so malicious to make People believe (because I had laid the Scene in Lancashire) that I had reflected perso∣nally on some in that, and in an adjoyning County. Which no man, that will give himself leave to think can believe. And I do here solemnly declare the con∣trary, and that it was never once in my thoughts to do so.
But the Clamours of a Party (who can support themselves by nothing but fals∣hood) rose so high, as to report that I had written Sedition and Treason, had re∣flected upon His Majesty, and that the Scope of the Play was against the Govern∣ment of England. Which are Villanies I abhor▪ and some of the Reporters I be∣lieve would not stic• at. But I am well assured they did not believe themselves, only (out of malice to me) thought if they could bring the report to Windsor (which they did) by that means to cause the silencing the Play, without farther examination: But they who had the Power, were too just for that, and let it live.
Page [unnumbered] For these reasons I am forced, in my own vindication, to Print the whole Play just as I writ it (without adding, or deminishing) as all the Actors who rehers'd it so a fortnight together, before it was reviewed, may testifie.
For the Magical part, I had no hopes of equalling Shakespear in fancy, who created his Witchcraft for the most part out of his own imagination (in which fa∣culty no man ever excell'd him) and therefore I resolved to take mine from Autho∣rity. And to that end, there is not one action in the Play, nay scarce a word con∣cerning it, but is borrowed from some antient, or Modern Witchmonger. Which you will find in the notes, wherein I have presented you a great part of the Do∣ctrine of Witchcraft, beleive it who will. For my part, I am (as it is said of Surly in the Alchymist, somewhat costive of beleif. The evidences I have represented are natural, viz slight, and frivolous, such as poor old Women were wont to be hang•d upon.
For the act•••s, if I had not represented them as those of real Witches, but had show'd the ignorance, fear, melancholy, malice, confederacy, and imposture that contribute to the beleif of Witchcraft, the people had wanted diversion, and their had been another clamor against it, it would have been call'd Atheistical, By a prevailing party who take it ill that the power of the Devil should be lessen'd, and attribute more miracles to a silly old Woman, then ever they did to the greatest of Prophets, and by this means the Play might have been Silenced.
I have b•t one thing more to observe which is, that Witchcraft, being a Religion to the Devil, (for so it is) their charms upon several occasions being so many of∣fices of the Witches Liturgy to him,) and attended with as many ceremonies as even the Popish Religion is, 'tis remarkable that the Church of the Devil (if I may catachrestically call it so) ha's continued almost the same, from their first writers on this subject to the last. From Theocritus his Pharmaceutria, to Sadducismus Triumphatus: and to the shame of Divines, the Church of Christ has been in perpetual alteration. But had there been as little to be gotten in one as in the other, 'tis probable there would have been as few changes.
I have troubled you too long, speak of the Play as you find it.
IN the Notes upon the 1st Act, for fabicatorum r. fabricatorum. In the Notes upon the 2d Act▪ r. solent ad conven••m, after Daemonem expunge the Colon, after hir cum horridum, r. &c. for Ecrates r. Eucrates. for Matu praeceptus, Matri praereptus. for furgentio r. turgentia, instead of veto quod no∣mine, r. vero. for devocat, r. devorat. for cansat, cantat line penult. alta hic salta illic. The rest of the faults in the Printing, the connexion and the sence will make you mend.Page [unnumbered]
BOOKS of Poetry and Plays Printed for Iohn Starkey.
THE Works of Sir William Davenant Kt. containing, 1. Gondibert. 2. Madagascar. 3. Siege of Rhodes both parts. 4. Playhouse to be lett. 5. Vnfortunate Lovers. 6. The Witts. 7. Love and Honour. 8. Law against Lovers. 9. Man's the Master. 10. Platonick Lovers. 11. Albovine King of Lumbardy. 12. Iust Italian. 13. Cruel Brother. 14. News from Plymouth. 15. Distresses. 16. Siege. 17. Fair Favourite. With several other Poems never before Printed; all published out of the Authors Original Copies, and Printed together in Folio.
Andronicus Comnenius, a Tragedy, by Iohn Wilson, in 4 to.
Heraclius Emperor of the East, a Tragedy, by Lodowick Carlel Esq in 4 to.
The Shepherds Paradise, a Pastoral, by Water Montague, Esq in 8 to.
Aminta, the Famous Italian Pastoral, Translated into English, in 8 to.
Paradise Regain'd, a Poem in four Books, to which is added Sampso• Agonistes, the Author Iohn Milton, in 8 to.Page [unnumbered]
- DRAMMATIS PERSONAE.
- Sir Edward Hartf•rt. A worthy Hospitable true English Gentleman, of good un∣derstanding, and honest Principles.
- Young Harf•rt his Son. A Clownish, sordid, Country Fool, that loves nothing but drinking Ale, and Country Sports.
- Sir Ieffery Shacklehead. A simple Justice, pretending to great Skill in Witches, and a great Persecuter of them.
- Sir Timothy Shacklehead. Sir Ieffery's Son, a very pert, confident, simple Fellow, bred at Oxford, and the Inns of Court.
- Tom. Shacklehead. Sir Ieffery's poor Younger Brother, an humble Companion, and led: drinker in the Country.
- Smerk. Chaplain to Sir Edward, Foolish, Knavish, Popish, Arrogant, Insolent; yet for his Interest, Slavish.
- Tegue O Divelly. The Irish-Priest, an equal mixture of Fool and Knave.
- Bellfort. Doubty. Two Yorkshire Gentlemen of good Estates, well bred, and of good Sense.
- La. Shacklehead. Wife to Sir Ieffery, a notable discreet Lady, something in∣clined to Wantonness.
- Theodosia. Daughter to Sir Ieffery, and Lady. Women of good Humour, Wit, and Beauty.
- Isabella. Daughter to Sir Edward Hartfort.
- Susan. House-Keeper to Sir Edward.
- Clod. A Country Fellow, a retainer to Sir Edwards Family.
- Thomas o Georges. Another Country Fellow.
- The Devil
- Mother Demdike.
- Mother Dickenson.
- Mother Hargrave.
- Mal. Spencer.
- Madge, and several other
- Old Woman that Searches them▪
- Servants, Dancers Musicians, Messenger, &c.
THE Lancashire Witches AND TEGVE O DIVELLY THE Irish PRIEST.
Oh my Fair Couzen, I spi•d yee, and that made me give my man my Horse to come to you.
Me? have you any business with me?
Business! yes Faith, I think I have, you know it well enough, but we have had no sport this afternoon, and therefore I made hast to come to you.
Such as you should have no sport made to you, you should make it for others.
Ay, its no matter for that; but Couzen, would you believe it, we were all 〈◊〉, Mother Demdike and all her Imps were abroad, I think, but you are the pr•tty 〈◊〉 that enchants my heart. This must n••ds please her.
Well said, Academy of Compliments, you are well read I see.
Ods Bud, who would have thought she had read that!
Nay, for Learning and good breeding let Tim alone.
Tim! I might be Sir Timothy in your mouth though one would think.
I am sorry the King bestowed Honour so cheaply.
Nay, not so cheap neither; for though my Lady Mother had a dear Friend at Court, yet I was fain to give one a Hundred pounds, besides my Fees, I am sure of that: Tim, hum go too—
Was there ever so fulsom a Fool▪
Besides, I gave Thirty Guinnies for the Sword I was Knighted with to one of his Nobles, for the King di• not draw his own Sword upon me.
Do you abuse the Nobility? would a Nobleman sell you a Sword?
Yes that they will, s•ll that or any thing else at Court. I am sure he was a great Courtier he talked so prettily to the Kings Dogs, and was so familiar with them, and they were very kind to 〈◊〉, and he had great interest in them: He had all their names as quick, and 〈…〉 know who, and discours•d with them, I protest and vow, as if they had 〈◊〉 Christians.
Oh thou art a pretty F•llow; hey for little Tim of Lancashire.
You might give one on•s title one would think, I say again, especially one that loves you too.
Yes, I will give you your Title.
Thank you dear Co•z•n.
Take that, and your proper Title, Fool.
Fool! I 〈◊〉 you, I s•orn your words, 'tis a burning shame you should be 〈◊〉, th•t it is: Little thinke my •ady Mother how I am used.
Once for all, as a Kinsman I w•ll b• civil to you; but if you dare make love 〈◊〉, I'le make thee such an example, thou shalt be a terrour to all foolish Knights.
•oolish! ha, ha, ha, that's a pretty jest; why han't I been at Oxford and the 〈◊〉 of Court? I have spent my time well indeed if I be a Fool still: But I am not such a Fool to give you over for all this.
Dost thou hear? thou most incorrigible lump, never to be lickt into form; thou Coxcomb incarnate; thou fresh, insipid, witless, mannerless Knight, who wearest a Knighthood worse than a Haberdasher of Small wares would; It serves but to make thy folly more eminent.
Well, well, forsooth, somebody shall know this.
Every one that knows thee knows it. Dost thou think, because thy foolish Mother has Cocker•d thee with morning Cawdles and afternoons Luncheons, thou art fit to make Love? Ile use thee like a Dog if thou darest but speak once more of Love, or name the world before me.
Mum, mum, no more to be said, I shall be heard some-where. Will your Father maintain you in these things, ha Gentlewoman?
Tell if thou durst, I'le make thee tremble. Heart, if you bent gone now presently, Ile beat you.
My Dear, art thou come! I have been just now tormented by thy foolish Brothers awkward Courtship, forgive me that I make so bold with him.
Prethee do, my Dear, I shall be as free with thine, though he is not so great a Plague, for he is bashful, very indifferent, and for ought I perceive, to my great com∣fort, no Lover at all: But mine is pert, foolish, confident, and on my Conscience in love to boot.
Well, we are resolved never to Marry where we are designed, that•s certain. For my part I am a free English woman, and will stand up for▪ my Liberty, and Pro∣perty of Choice.
And Faith, Girl, Ile be a mutineer on thy side; I hate the imposition of a Husband, 'tis as bad as Pop•ry.
We will be Husband and Wife to one another, dear Theodosia.
But there are a brace of Sparks we saw at the Spaw, I am apt to believe would forbid the Banes if they were here.
Bellfort and D•ubt• they write us word they will be here suddenly, but I have little hopes; for my Father is so resolved in whatever he proposes, I must dispair of his consent for Bellfort, though he is too reasonable to force me to Marry any one▪ besides he is engaged, in honour, to your Father.
Nay, if thou thinkest of subjection still, or I either, we are in a desperate case: No, mutiny, mutiny, I say.
And no money, no money will our Fathers say.
If our Lovers will not take us upon those Terms they are not worthy of us. If they will, farewell Daddy, say I.
If so, I will be as hearty a Rebel, and as brisk as thou art for thy life; But canst thou think they are such Romancy Knights to take Ladies with nothing? I am scarce so vain though I am a woman.
I would not live without vanity for the Earth; if every one could see their own faults 'twould be a sad World.
Thou saist right, sure the world would be almost depopulated, most men •ould hang themselves.
Ay, and women too: Is there any creature so happy as your affected Lady? or 〈◊〉 Coxcomb?
I must confess they have a happy error, that serves their turn better than truth; but away with Philosophy, and let's walk on and consider of the more weighty mat∣ters of our Love.
Come along my Dear.
What a pox is the matter? She has piss'd upon a Nettle to day, or else the Witch•s have b•witched h•r. Hah, now I talk of Witches, I am plag•eily afraid, and all alone: No heres Nun••e Tomas.
How now Couzen?
Couzen? plain Couzen? You might have more manners Uncle, S flesh, and one gives you an Inch, you'l take an Ell. I see Familiarity breeds Contempt.
Well, Sir Timothy, then, Byr Lady I thought no harm; But I am your 〈…〉 that.
Yes, my Father's younger Brother. What a Murrain do we keep you for, but to have an eye over our Dogs and Hawks, to drink Ale with the Tennants (when they come with R•nt or •resents) in Black Jacks, at the upper end of a Brown Sho•••-board •able in the Hal•? to sit at lower end oth' board at meals, rise make •our 〈◊〉, and take away your Plate at second Course? And you to be thus familiar!
Pray forgive me good Couzen: Sir Timothy, I mean.
V•ry well, you will be fa•cy again Uncle. Uds lud, Why was I Knight∣ed but to have my Title given me? My Father, and Lady Mother can give it me, and s••h a Fellow as you, a meer younger Brother to forget it.
Nay, nay, ha•d yee yeou mun tat in good part, I did but forget a bit, good Sir Timo•hy.
My Mother would 〈◊〉 a fine taking about it, and she knew it.
Nay, pray now do not 〈…〉 my •ady, by th' Mass who'l be e'en 〈◊〉 wood an who hears o•t. But look a, look a, here come th' Caursers, the Har•〈◊〉 playd the D••l with us to 〈◊〉, we 〈…〉 bewitch'd.
Ay, so we have, to have the Hare vanish in open Field before all our fa∣•••, and our eyes never 〈◊〉 from her.
Ay, and then an awd wife (they caw'n her Mother Demdike) to start 〈…〉 very spot o grawnt where we losten puss!
These are Prodigies you tell, they cannot be; your sences are deceived.
My sences deceived! that's well, Is there a Justice in Lancashire has so much skill in Witches as I have? Nay, I'le speak a proud word, you shall turn me loose a∣gainst any Witch-finder in Europe; I'd make an Ass of Hopkins if he were alive.
Nay, I'le swear 'tis true, a Pox on that awd Carrion Mother Demdike, she ha's marr•d all our sports, and almost kill'd Two Brace of Greyhounds worth a Thou∣sand pound.
Dreams, meer Dreams of Witches, old womens fables, the Devil's not such a Fool as you would make him.
Dreams! mercy upon me! are you so profane to deny Witches?
Heaven defend! will you deny the existence of Witches? 'Tis very Athe∣istical.
Incorrigible ignorance! 'tis such as you are Atheistical, that would equal the Devils power with that of Heaven its self. I see such simple Parsons cannot en∣dure to hear the Devil dishonour'd.
No Witches? why I have hang'd above Fourscore. Read Bodin, Remigi∣us, Delrio, Nider, Instit•r, Sprenger, Godelman, and More, and Malleus Maleficarum, a great Author, that Writes sweetly about Witches, very sweetly.
Malleus Maleficarum a Writer, he has read nothing but the titles I see.
Oh I a great man, Malleus was a great man; Read Couzen, read the An∣tidote against Atheism: Well, I'le make work among your Witches.
Ay good Sir Ieffery do, Uds Lud they'l grow so bold one shan• go a Caursing, Hunting or Hawking for 'em one of these days; and then all the ioy of ones life's gone.
Why are those all the joys of Life?
Ay Godsflesh are they, I'd not give a Farthing to live with out 'em, what's a Gentleman but his Sports.
Nay, byr Lady, I mun have a saup of Ale now and then, besides sports.
Why here's my Son, Sir Timothy, saw the Hare vanish, and the Witch ap∣pear.
That I did upon my Honour Sir Ieffery.
So ho, here's the Hare again.
He Boys, loo on the Dogs, more sport, more sport.
'Tis almost dark, let's home: go to your Mistress, Fool.
Time enough for that, Sir, I must have this Course first, halloo.
Now, Sir Edward, do you see, the Hare is vanish'd, and here is the Hag.
Yes, I see 'tis almost dark, the Hare is run from your tired Dogs, and here is a poor old Woman gathering of sticks.
Avant thou filthy Hag, I defy thee and all thy works.
This is wheint indeed Sir, you are a Schollard, pray defend me.
Now you shall see how the Witches fear me.
The old women ha•• reason to fear you, you have hang'd so many of 'em.
Now Tom Shaklehead, and you Clod, lay hold o'th' Witch quickly; now you shall see my skill, wee'l search her, I warrant she has biggs or •eats a handful long about her parts that shall be nam•less; then we•l have her wa•c•ed e•ght and fourty hours, and prickt with Needles, to keep her from sleeping, and make her 〈◊〉, Gad •hee'l confess any thing in the world then; and if nor, after all, wee•l tye her Thumbs and great Toes together and 〈◊〉 her into your great Pond. Let me alone with her, I warrant ye, come, come, come, where are you?
So I must have a poor old woman murder'd in my House.
Oh the Witch, the Devil.
How now, whats the matter?
Why by'r Lady, the De•ls ith' matter, the old Hag has knockt us both dawn, and is vanisht under grawnt I think.
Your fear has knockt you down, and the old woman has escap'd.
No, no, she has done't; a Witch has a mighty strength: Six men are not strong enough for a Witch of Fourscore.
Come prethy, Sir Ieffery, let's home and drive these fables out of her heads, its dark.
Nay, I know how to deal with her, I•le send my Warrant, and a Consta∣ble with that is strong enough to beat six Witches, ay, six the ablest Witches on 'em all•you'd wonder at it, but faith 'tis true.
Ha, ha, ha, how I have fooled these fellows, let 'em go home and prate a∣bout it, this night wee'l revel in Sir Edward's Celler, and laugh at the Justice. But to the business of the Night.
Song of three parts.
Whaw, what a Storm is this! I think Mother Demdike and all her Dee'ls are abroad to neeght, 'tis so dark too
I canno see my hont.* Oh the Dee'l, the Dee'l,
Was there ever such a Storm raised on a suddain, the Sky being clear, and no appearance on't before?
But the worst part of our misfortune is to be out of our way in a strange Countrey, the night so dark that Owls and Bats are wildred.
There is is no help, Cover the Saddles, and stand with the Horses under that Tree, while we stand close and shelter our selves here; the Tempest is so violent it cannot last.
Now Philosophy help us to a little patience, Heaven be praised we are not at Sea yet.
These troubles we Knight Errants must endure when we march in search of Ladies.
Would we were in as good Lodging as our Dogs have which we sent before to Whalley. I fear too (after all this device of yours) our pretending to hunt here will never take.
Will any body think that a man in his right wits should chuse this Hilly Countrey to hunt in?
O▪ yes, there are Huntsmen that think there's no sport without venturing Necks or Collet-bones; besides, there is no other way to hope to see our Mistresses: by this means we shall troll out my Mistresses Brother, who loves, and understands nothing but Countrey sports. By that we may get acquaintance with Sir Edward Harfourt, who is reported to be a wise, honest, hospitable, true English man. And that will bring us into Sir Ieffery Shaklehead's family, Whally being in the mid-way betwixt them.
I am resolved to see my Mistress, what ere comes on•t, and know my doom. Your Yorkshire Spaw was a fatal place to me, I lost a heart there, Heaven knows when I shall find it again.
Those interviews have spoiled me for a man of this World, I can no more throw of my loose corns of Love upon a Tennants Daughter in the Countrey, or think of Cuckolding a Keeping Fool in the City; I am grown as pittiful a 〈◊〉 Loving animal as any Romance can furnish us with.
That we should scape in all the Tour of France and Italy, where the 〈◊〉 has power to ripen Love, and catch this distemper in the North! but my Theodosia in humour, wit and beauty has no equal.
Besides, my Isabella!
To you your Isabella's equal.
We are pretty fellows to talk of Love, we shall be wet to the Skin; yond•r are lights in many Rooms, it must be a great House, let's make towards it.
It is so dark, and among these Hills and Inclosures 'tis impossible. Will no lucky fellow, of this place, come by and guide us? We are out of all Roads.
Oh! Oh! what mun Ay do? Ay am well neegh parisht: I mun try to get dawn.
What a Devil •s here a fellow fallen from the top of a Tree?
Sdeath •s tais a night to climb in? what does this mean?
Here, who art thou? Whats the matter?
Oh the Dee•l; avant, I defy thee and all thy warks.
Is he drunk or mad? give me thy hand, I'le help thee.
Begon, Witches I defy ye, help! help.
What dost thou talk of? we are no Witches nor Devils, but travellers that have lost our way, and will reward thee well if thou wilt guide us into it.
An yeow been a mon Ay'st talk wy ye a bir, yeow mun tack a care o your ••lls, the 〈◊〉 haunted with Buggarts, and Witches, one of 'em took my Condle and I a•thorn out of my hont, and ••ew along wy it; and an other Set me o top o th' tree, where I feel dawn naw, Av ha well neegh brocken my theegh.
The fellows mad, I neither understand his words, nor his Sence, prethee •ow far is it to Whalley?
Why yeow are quite b•said th' road mon, yeow Shoulden a gone dawn 〈◊〉•onk by Thomas o Georges, and then ee'n at yate, and turn'd dawn th' Lone, and 〈◊〉 the Steepo o'th' reeght •ont.
Prithee dont tell us what we should have done, but how far it is to Whalis∣l•y.
Why marry four mail and a bit.
Wee'l give thee an Angel and show us the way thither.
Marry thats Whaint I conno see my hont, haw con Ay show yeou to Whalley to neeght.
Canst thou shew us to any house where we may have Shelter and Lodging to night? we are Gentlemen and strangers, and will pay you well for't.
Ay byr Lady con I, th' best ludging and d•••t too in aw Loncashire, Yonder at th' •ough where yeow seen th' leeghts there.
Whose house is that?
Why what a pox, w•ere •an yeow lived? why yeow are Strongers indeed! why, 'tis Sir Yedard Harfourts, he 〈…〉 to all Gentry, yeou• st be welcome to him by day and by neeg•t 〈◊〉 Lord of aw here abauts.
My Mistresses Father, Lu•k if it be thy will, have at my Isabella, Canst thou guide us thither?
Ay, Ay, there's a pawer of Company there naw, S••Ieffery Shaklehead, and the Knight his Son, and Doughter.
Lucky above my wishes, o my Dear Theodosia, how my heart leaps at her! 〈…〉 guide us thither, wee'l pay thee well.
Come on, I am e•n breed aut o my sences, I was ne'er so freeghtend sin I was born, give me your hont.
No here are our men and Horses, wee'l get up, and you shall lead the fore∣most: Now Stars be kind.
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.
YOu have extreamly delighted us this morning, by your House, Gardens, your Accommodation, and your way of Living, you put me in mind of the renowned Sidneys Admirable description of Kalandar.
Sir you Complement me too much.
Methinks you represent to us the Golden days of Queen Elizabeth, such sure were our Gentry then; now they are grown Servile Apes to Forreign customes, they leave off Hospitality, for which we were famous all over Europe, and turn Servants to Board-wages.
For my part, I love to have my Servants part of my Family, the other were to hire day Labourers to wait on me, I had rather my Friends, Kindred, Ten∣nants and Servants should live well out of me, than Coach-makers, Taylors, Em∣broiderers, and Lacemen should: To be pointed at in the Streets, and have Fools stare at my Equipage, is a vanity I have always scorn'd.
You speak like one descended from those Noble Ancestors that made France tremble, and all the rest of Europe Honour 'em.
I reverence the Memory of 'em: But our New-fashion'd Gentry love the French too well to fight against 'em; they are bred abroad without knowing any thing of our Constitution, and come home tainted with Foppery, slavish Principles, and Popish Religion.
They bring home Arts of Building from hot Countries to serve for our cold one; and F••gality from those places where they have little Meat and small Stomacks, to suffice us who have great plenty and lusty Appetites.
They build Houses with Halls in 'em, not so big as former Porches; Beg∣gars were better entertained by their Ancestors, than their Tennants by them.
For my part, I think 'twas never good days, but when great Tables were kept in large Halls; the Buttery-hatch always open, Black Jacks, and a good smell of Meat and March-beer, with Dogs-turds, and Mary-bones as Ornaments in the Hall: These were signs of good House keeping, I hate to see Italian fine Buildings with no Meat or Drink in 'em▪
I like not their little Plates, methinks there's Vertue in an English Sur-loyn.
Our Sparks bring nothing but Forreign Vices and Follies home; 'tis redicu∣lous to be bred in one Country to learn to live in another.
While we lived thus (to borrow a Coxcombly word) we made a better Figure in the World.
You have a mind that suits your Fortune, and can make your own hap∣piness.
The greatest is the Enjoyment of my Friends, and such Worthy •e•tlemen Page 30•s your Selves, and when I cannot have enough of that; I have a Library, good Hor∣s•s and good Musick.
Princes may envy such an English Gentleman.
You are too kind, I am a true English man, I love the Princes Rights and P•ples liberties, and will defend 'em both with th• last penny in my purse, and the last drop •n my veins, and dare defy the witless Plots of Papists.
Spoken like a Noble Patriot.
Pardon me, you talk like English-men, and you have warm'd me; I hope to see the Prince and People flourish yet; old as I am, inspite of Jesuits, I am sure our Constitution is the Noblest in the World.
Would there were enough such English Gentlemen.
Twere to be wisht; but our Gentry are so much poysoned with Forreign V•nities, that methinks the Genius of England seems sunk into the Yeoma••y.
We have indeed too many rotten Members▪ You speak like Gentlemen, Worthy of such Noble Fathers, as you both had; but Gentlemen I spoke of Musick, I see two of my Artists, come into the Garden, they shall entertain you with a Song this Morning.
I see Sir you are well serv'd in every thing.
My sweet Cousin good Morrow to thee, I hope to call thee shortly by another Name, my dear Child, Heaven's bless thee▪
Ladies your most humble Servant; you are early up to take the pleasure of the Morning in these Gardens.
'Tis a Paradice you are in; every object within this place is ravishing.
This place affords variety of Pleasures; nothing here is wanting.
Where such fine Ladies are.
A Gentleman, To speak with you.
With me! Daughter pray shew those Gentlemen the Statues, Grottoes and the Water-works, I•le wait on you immediately.
This is an opportunity beyond our hopes.
Would you speak with me?
Arrah, and please ty Oorship, I am come here to displaash to maake a 〈◊〉 unto thee, dest dou not know me Joy?
Oh! You live at Mr. Redletters my Catholick Neighbours.
Ah by my Shoul, I.
How came you to venture hither? you are a Popish-Priest.
Ay, but 'tis no matter for all daat •oy: by my Shoul, but I vill taak de Page 31 Oades, and I think I vill be excus'd, but hark 〈◊〉 you a while, by my trott I shall be a Pa•pist too for all daat, indeed, yes.
I do come for de nonest to see dee, and yet I do not come on purpose gra: But it is no matter, I will talk vid you about daat, I do come upon occaasion and Mr. Redletter did shend me unto de•.
What will I say unto dee now, but Mr. Redletter did shend me, and yet I did come of my self too for all daat upon occaasion, daat I did heare, concerning of dee, dat dy House and de Plaash is all over-run with Witches and Spirits, do you see now?
I had best let this Fool stay to laugh at him, he may be out of the damn'd Plot, if any Priest was? Sure they would never trust this Fool.
What shaall you shay unto me upon all dis, I will exorcize doze Vitches, and I will plague dose Devils now by my Shoul, vid Holy-Water, and vid Reliques, and I will •reet 'em out of his Plaash, God shaave the King.
I have forgot your Name.
They do put the Name of Kelly upon me, Joy, but by my fait I am call'd by my own right Name, Tegue O Devilly.
Tegue O Devilly?
Yes, a very oold Naam in Eereland by my Shalvaation, well gra, I have brought upon my Cloke-bagg shome Holy-water, and I will put it upon the Devils and de Vitches Faashes, and I will make you shome more Holy-water, and you will vaash all de Roomes vid it and bee—
Well, Father Tegue O Devilly, You're welcom; but how •are you venture publickly in these times?
Why, I have great consideraation upon dy Prudence; for if dou woudst be∣tray me, now phare will be de soleedity of dat Joy.
I speak not for my self, but others.
The Devil •aak me now, I do think, I will suffer for my Religion, I am affraid I will be slain at lasht at the plaash they call Saint Ty-burn, but I do not caare by my Shalvaation; for if I will be hang'd, I will be a Saint presently, and all my Country shall pray unto Saint Tegue, besides, shome great people will be naamless too, I tell you I shay noe more, but I will be prayed unto Joy.
Prayed too! Very well.
Yes by my Shoule will I, and I will have Reliques maade of me too.
Sir Ieffery Shacklehead and my Lady have some business with you, and desire your company within.
Come Father Tegue, come along with me, do you hear, find the Gentle∣men that are walking with my Daughter and her Couzen, and tell 'em I will wait on 'em presently.
I will. They are here, Gentlemen, my Master is called away upon business Page 22〈◊〉 begs your excuse, and will wait on you presently.
Heaven gives us yet a longer Opportunity, and certainly intends we should make use of it; I have my own Parson that comes to hunt with me at Whally, Madam, an excellent School Divine, that will end all differences betwixt us.
He is like to begin 'em betwixt us▪ the Name of a Parson is a dreadful Name upon these occasions, he I bring us into a Condition we can never get out of but by Death.
If the absolute command of me and my Fortune can please you, you shall never desire to get out of it.
I should at more distance and with more reverence approach you, Madam, did not the shortness of the time, and the great danger of losing you, force me to be free; Throw not away this pretious time, a Minute now is Inestimable.
Yet I must consider on that Minute on which the happiness or Misery of all my Life may depend.
How can • imagine that you who have rambled up and down the Southern World, should at last •ix on a Horne-bred Mistress in the North? how can you be in earnest?
Consult your Understanding and your Looking-Glass, one will tell you how Witty, Wise, and Good you are, the other, how Beautiful, how Sweet, how Charm∣ing.
Men before they are Married turn the great end of their Perspective; but the little end after it.
They are Men of ill Eyes, and worse Understanding; but for your Perfections there needs no Perspective.
If I were inclin'd to Marriage, methinks we are not well enough acquainted yet to think of that.
To my Reputation I suppose you are no Stranger, nor to my Estate, which li•s all in the next County; and for my Love, I will convince you of it, by setling what ever you please, or all that Estate upon you before I expect any Favour from you.
You are so Generous beyond my Deserts, that I know not how to Credit you.
Your Modesty is too Great, and your Faith too Little.
Death, Who are these whith my Mistress and my Sister? Oh! they are the silly Fellows that we saw at the Spaw, that came hither last night, do you know Sir, that this is my Mistress Sir?
I know Sir that no man is worthy of that Honour.
Ye• Sir, I will make you know that I am Sir, and She has the Honour to be my Mi•tress.
Very well Sir.
Very well Sir, No 'tis very ill Sir, that you should have the boldness to take my Mistress by the Hand Sir, and if you do Sir, I must tell▪ you Sir—What do you Smile Sir?
A man may do what he will with his own Face. I may Smile Sir—
If you do Sir, I will fight Sir, I tell you that Sir. hah,
Sir Timothy, you are a Bloody-minded man.
'Tis for my Honour, my Honour, he is plaguely afraid; look you Sir, if you Smile Sir, at me Sir, I will Kick Sir, that's more Sir.
If you do, you will be the fifteenth man I have run through the Body Sir.
Hah! What does he say, through the Body, oh.
Yonders my Brother, we must not be so perticular, lets joyn.
How, the Body Sir?
Yes Sir, and my custom is (if it be a great affront, I kill them, for) I rip out their Hearts, dry 'em to Powder, and make Snuff on 'em.
Oh Lord! Snuff!
I have a box full in my pocket Sir, will you please to take some.
No Sir, I thank you Sir: Snuff quoth a, I will have nothing to do with such a cruel man, I say no more Sir.
Your Servant Sir—
Your Servant Sir: does he take such Snuff too?
The same—do you hear Sir, if you value your own life, which I will save for the Families sakes, not a word of this to any man.
No Sir, Not I Sir? Your humble servant.
I ask your pardon Gentlemen, I was stay'd by what, if you please to walk in, will divert you well enough.
Wee will wait on you Sir.
Daughter, Sir Ieffery and my Ladys have made complaints of you for a∣busing Sir Timothy; let me hear no more on't, we have resolv'd the Marriage shall be to Morrow, it will become you to be upon a little better Tearms to day.
Do you here that Gentlewoman—
Gentlemen, I have sent to Whally for all your Servants, and Horses, and Doggs, you Must do me the honour to Make some stay with me.
We cannot enough acknowledg your great Civility.
No Complements, I obliege my self; Sir Ieffery Shacklehead and I have just now agreed, that to morrow shall be the Day of Marriage between our Sons and Daughters.
Very short warning.
Hee I not delay it longer.
I'le in and see what the reason of this sudden resolution.
Sir we wait on you.
Stay you there a while with Sir Timothy.
Dear Cousin, prethee be kinder to me, I protest and vow, as I am a Christian, I love the better then both my Eyes, for all this.
Why how now Dogs face, hast thou the Impudence to make love again, Page 34 with that hideous Countenance? that very insipid silly Physnomy of thine? with that most piteous mein? why thou lookst like an Operat•r for Teeth.
This is all sham, I wont beleive it; I can see my self in the great glass, and to my mind no man looks more like a Gentleman than my self.
A Gentleman! with that silly wadling shuffling gate? thou hast not mien good enough for a chief Constable, every change of thy Countenance, and every motion of thy Body proclaims thee an Ass.
Ay, Ay, come Madam, I shall please you better when I am Marry'd, with a 〈◊〉 that I have; I tell yee.
Out of my sight, thou makest me sick to see thee.
I shall be more Familiar with you to Morrow-night, oh my dear rogue—well I say no more, faith I shall, well, no more to be said.
Be gone thou Basilisk, here, I vow if thou wert the only man on Earth, the Kinde should cease rather than I would Marry thee.
You'l be in a better humour to Morrow-night, though you are such a 〈◊〉 now.
This place, where some Materials are to mend the Wall, will furnish me with some Ammunition: be gone I say.
I shant do•t, I know when I am in good Company, come prethee Cousin, do not let us Fool any longer, to Morrow we shall be one flesh—de ye see:
I had rather be inoculated into a Tree, than be made one Flesh with thee; can that Westph•lia hide of thine ever become one Flesh with me? when, I can become one Ass with thee it may, you shall never change my mind.
Well, well, I shall have your Body to Morrow-night, and I warrant you your mind shall soon follow it.
Be gone, thou infinite Coxcomb, Ile set thee farther.
What, what, what a pox! hold, what a Devil, are you mad? Flesh, heart, hold, what a plague, uds bud, I could find in my heart to turn again.
Do •ilthy Face, do if thou darst.
Oh help, murder, murder.
I have no patience with this Fool, no Racks, or Tortures shall force me to marry him.
I am very indifferent about this Matrimony, and for ought I see, you are so too.
I must confess you are as fine a Gentlewoman as ever I saw, and I am not worthy of you; but my Father says he will disinherit me, if I will not marry you to Morrow; therefore I desire you would please to think on't.
I will think on't.
You shall command all my Estate, and do what you will; for my part, I r•solve all my Life, to give up my self wholly to my Sports, and my Horses, and Page 35 my Dogs, and to drink now and then a cup of Ale with my Neighbours, I hate Wine.
You will do very well.
He says we must be Married to Morrow at Ten, I can be going a Hawking by six and come home time enough, I would be loath to neglect my Hawking at Pow•s in the height of the Season.
By no means, you'd do very ill if you should.
Ay so I should, but shall I tell my Father that you will have me to Mor∣row? you know the Writings are Sealed, and Wedding-Cloaths bought of all sides.
Well, I shall do as becomes me.
Well, Cousin there's no more to be said betwixt you and I then, Pa•ce Verba, a word to the Wise, I say, is enough, so I rest your humble Servant to com∣mand; •e tell my Father what you say presently, your Servant to, tell you truly I had never so much mind to be Married as now; for I have been so woundedly frightned with Witches, that I am affraid to lye alone, dee see; well, I am glad this business is over: a pox upon all m•king of Love for me.
I thought I saw my Cousin in yo• Walk, 'tis time for us to consult what to do, my Father and Mother are resolved upon to Morrow for the fatal day.
By my shoule, Ioy, I thank you for my Fast-break, for it does give refreshment unto me, and Consolaation too gra.
Thank you Mistress Susan, my Caudle was admirable; I am much strengthened by these good Creatures.
Yours was admirable—if Mother Demdike has any Skill, I shall find the opperati•• before night, and I will be reveng'd for his scorn to me.
Though thou dosht know me, yet thou dosht shay thou wilt tell nothing concerning of me.
No, for my part though I differ in some things, yet I honour the Church of Rome as a true Church.
By my Shalvaation yee did all come out of us indeed, and I have expectaation daa• you will come in agen, and I think I will live to shee it; perhaps I will tell you now, you had your Ordination too with us.
For my part, I think the Papists are honest, loyal men, and the Iesuits dyed in∣nocent.
Phaat dou dosht not believe de Plot de Devil taak me.
No, no, no Papist Plot, but a Presbyterian one.
Aboo, boo, boo, By my Shalvaation I will embraash dy Fathers Child, and I will put a great kish upon dy cheeke, now for dat, ay dear ish a damnd Presbyterian Plot to put out de Paapists, and de Priests, and de good Men, and if I would have my minde, de Devil taak me I would shee 'em all broyle and fry in de 〈◊〉 they call Smithfi•ld,〈◊〉.
I wou'd have S••plices cram'd down their Throats, or would have 'em hang'd in 〈…〉.
〈…〉 with these Priests, see they are come from their Breakfast, and 〈◊〉
〈…〉 not believe de Paapist P•ot my Ioy.
〈…〉 Presbyterian Plot I do: I would be a Turk before I would be a 〈…〉
〈…〉 I vill give Satisf•ction unto dee, and •aak dee of my Church, we have 〈…〉 of dy Church, and dou art almost as good a Friend as he in de West, I have 〈…〉 take it did begin vid a T.
How now! Do n•t you believe a P•pish Plot?
No, but a 〈◊〉 I do.
This is great Impudence, a•ter the King has affirm'd it in so many Pr•clamations, and three Parliaments have 〈◊〉 it, Nemine 〈◊〉.
Parliaments, tell me of Parliaments, with my Bible in my hand, •le dispute with the whole 〈◊〉 of Commons; Sir, I hate Parliaments, n•ne but Phanaticks, Hobbists, and Athiests, believe the 〈◊〉.
By my 〈…〉, dou d•sh't maak me weep indeed, by my Shoul, Ioy, dou wilt be a good Cath•lick, if I will instruct dee, I will weep on dee indeed.
Why the true and wise Church of England-men believes it, and are a great Rock a∣gainst the Church of Rome.
And Preach and Write learnedly against it; but such Fellows as you are scandals to the Church, a Company of Tantivy Fools.
All the Eminent men of the Church of England believe the Plot, and detest it with horror, and abominate the Religion that contriv'd it.
Not all the Eminent men, for I am of another opinion.
By my shoul, by my Shoud, Ioy, dey are our Enemies, and I would have no fait put upon de••, but dis is my dear Friend.
This is a Rascal conceal'd in the Church, and is none of it; sure his Patron know• him not.
You are Hobbists and Athiests.
It is noe ma•ter for all daat Ioy, what dey doe shay unto dee for by Chreest, and by Saint Paatrick dey be Heretick Doggs, by my Shalvaation dou dosht maake me weep upon de agen; by de Lady Mary, I think I will be after reconciling deet o de Catholick Church in∣deed.
Your Servant Gentlemen.
Your most humble Servant.
Your most humble Servant.
Is not my Irish man a pleasant fellow?
A great Father of the Church.
And perhaps may come to be hang'd for't.
Sir 〈…〉 to take some informations about Witches, perhaps that may divert you not ill, 'Tis against my opinion, but I give him way.
I hope you are pleas'd to pardon my incivillity, in rushing unawares into your Chamber last night; but I know you are so much a Gentleman, so well-bred▪ and so a•••mplis•t, I know you do—
And for that reason I will make you my Confident in a business, that perhaps, I do not know, but I think it may not be t• your disadvantage, I will commu∣nicate it to you in ••ivate. N•w, Sir Ieffery and I are to take some Examinations. I assist him very 〈…〉 business, or he could never do it.
Call in these Fellows, 〈◊〉 hear what they'l say about these Witches; come on, Did you serve my Warrant on Mother Demdike?
Sir, I went to her House (and please your Worship) and lookt in at her Window, and she was feeding three great Toads, and they daunc'd and leapt about her, and she suckled a great black Cat well nigh as big as a Spaniel; I went into the House, and she vanisht, and there was nothing but the Cat in the middle, who spit and star'd at me, and I was frighted away.
An arch Witch I warrant her.
I went out at the back-dore, and by the Threshold sat a great Hare, I struck at it, and it run away, and ever since I have had a great pain in my back, and cannot make Water, saving your presence.
A fit of the Gravel.
No, by my shoule, she is a great Witch, and I vil cure you upon •aat.
No: I tell you, Sir Edward, I am sure she is a Witch, and between you and I, last night, when I would have been kind to my Wife, she bewit•ht me, I found it so.
Those things will happen about •ive and fifty.
I will tell you now, Joy, I will cure you too. * Taak one of de Tooths of a dead man, and bee, and burn it, and taak dee smoke into both your Noses, as you taak Snush, and anoint your self vid dee Gaal of a Crow, taak Quicksilver, as dey do call it, and put upon a Quill, and plaash it under de shoft Pillow you do shit upon, den maake shome waa∣ter through de Ring of a Wedding, by St. Patrick, and I will shay shome Ave Maaries for dee, and dou wilt be •ound agen: gra.
Who is this pretends to skill in Witchcraft?
A very lea••ed man in these matters, that comes hither on purpose.
I shall be gla• of your better acquaintance.
I vil be very vel pleash'd to b after being acquainted vid dee Joy.
Have you any more to say? Fellow speak to me.
Why, an't please your Worship forsooth, Mother Demdike said she would be reveng•d on me for not giving her some Butturmilk; and the next night coming from Rachdale, I saw a great Black Hog, and my Horse threw me, and I lost a Hog that night, he dy'd, that was as well when he went to bed, as ever he was since he was born.
'Tis enough, a plain, a manifest Witch, make a Warrant for her.
Take some of the Thatch of her House, and burn it at your House, and you shall see she will come streight.
Or to morrow about dawn, piss in a Pot, and cover it with your right, neither Stocking, and the Witch will be tormented in her Bladder, and come to you roaring before night.
A most profound Science.
And poor old Ignorant wretches must be hang'd for this.
A Cow of mine is bewitcht too, and runs about the Close as if she were mad; and that, I believe, Mother Hargrave bewitcht, because I deny'd her some 〈◊〉.—good.
〈◊〉 into the Warrant too: 'Tis enough, a little thing will serve for evi∣dence against • Witch.
A very little one.
* Put a pair of Breeches or Irish Trowsers upon your Cows head, Fellow, upon a Fryday Morning, and wid a great Stick maak beat upon her, till she do depart out of de Close, and she vill repair unto de Witches dore, and she vill knock up∣on it vid her Horns indeed.
Thank you good Sir.
Sir, I see you are a Learned man in this business, and I honour you.
Your Servant Sir, I will put shome holy waater into your Cows mout, and I vill maak Cure upon her for all daat indeed.
Come, has any one else any thing to inform?
Yes an•t please your Worship, here is a Neighbour, Thomas o Georges.
Why, an't please your Worships, I was at Mal. Spencers• House where he wons 〈◊〉 Lone, and whoo had a meeghty great Cat, a black one by'r Lady, and whoo kist and who clipt Cat, and ay set me d•wn a bit (meet a bit) and believe Cat went under her Coats, Quo ay what don yeo doo with that fow Cat? why, says Whoo, who soukes me. Soukes tee! Marry that's whaint quo ay, by'r Lady what •an Cat do besides? Why, says whoo, whoost carry me to Rachdale believe. Whaw, quo ay, that's pr•tty! Why, sayes whoo, ye•st ha one an yeow win to carry yeow; by'r lady, quo ay, with aw my heart, and thank ow too, marry 'twill save my Tit a pow'r of labour; so whoo cawd a Cat to me, a huge Cat, and we ridden both to Rachdale strieght along.
Well said, this was home; I love a Fellow that will go through stitch.
This is a Witch, indeed, put her name in.
This is n•w thing by my Shoule, I will tell you now it is naw thing for all d•at, a Vi•h, if she be a good Vitch, will ride upon a Graashopper, I tell you, very well, Page 39 and yet a Graashopper is but a weak beast neither; you do maak wonder upon dis• but by my Shoule it is naw thing.
Where did you take Cat, say you, together?
Why, we took Cat•ith• Lone meet a mile off.
So you rid eight mile upon Cats: are there any more informations?
No more an•t please your Worship, but when I have once taken 'em, enough will come in.
Go then about taking 'em, and bring 'em before Sir Ieffery, and my self, Ple warrant you wee'l order 'em.
I will tell you now Fellow, taak de shoe of a Horse, and nayle it upon your Threshold, de plaash dou dosht goe into dy dore upon.
And put a Clove of Garlick into the Roof of thy Ho•se.
Femel is very good in your House against Spirits and Witches, and Alicium, and the Herb Mullein, and Long-wort, and Moly too is very good.
* Burne shome Brimstone, and maak a sweet fume of de Gall of a Black Dogg, Joy, and be∣smeare dy Pots, and dy Walls, and bee, and Cross dy Self, and I will touch dee vid Reliques, and dee to gra.
Thank you good Sir.
Is not this an excellent Art?
'Tis so extravagant, that a man would think they were all in Dreams that ever writ of it.
I see no manner of Evidences against these poor Creatures.
I could laugh at the•e Fools sufficiently, but that all the while our Mistresses are in danger.
Our time is very short, prethee let's consider what is to be done.
Well, my Dear, I must open my heart to thee; I am so much in Love with this Bellfort, that I shall dye if I lose him.
Poor Isabella, dying is something an inconvenient business; and yet I should live very uncomfortable without my Spark.
Our time's very short, therefore preethee let's play the fool no longer, but come to the point when we meet 'em.
Agreed: But when shall we meet 'em?
I warrant thee before Midnight.
Come, let us take one turn in the Garden, and by that time my Dinner will be ready.
Madam, For Heaven's sake consider on what a short time my Happiness or Ruin depends.
Have a care, Sir Ieffery and his Lady will be Jealous.
This is a good sign.
Not a word, we shall be suspected, at night we will design a cenferrence.
Why so unkind Cl•d? You frown and wonnot kiss me.
No marry, ••e be none of thy Imp, I wott.
What do•t thou mean my Love? prethee kiss me.
Stand off by'r Lady an I li•t kibbo once, 〈◊〉 raddle thy bones: 〈…〉 that, thou art a fow Witch.
〈◊〉 Witch• a poor Innocent young Lass, that's whaint, I am not awd 〈◊〉 for that Mon.
And I believe my •yne, by the Mass I saw you in Sir Yedards Cellar last neeght with your 〈◊〉, thou art a rank Witch, uds flesh I'le not come nere thee.
Did you see me? Why, if I be a Witch, I am the better Fortune for you, 〈…〉 of the best and be rich.
〈◊〉 marry •le fare none with thee, Ile not be hang'd, nor go to the Deel 〈…〉 mass, but I will hang thee on I con by'r Lady.
Say you so Rogue, Ile plague you for that.
What is whoo gone? •Tis for no good marry, I ha scap'd a fine waife, a fow 〈◊〉 by'r Lady, I•le hang the Whean and there be no more Witches in Loncashire.〈◊〉 whats tiss?
Come hither Puck-Hairy.
Where is thy Contract written in Blood?
Come my Rouney, where art thou?
Waunds and Flesh, what con Ay do naw, I am turn'd into a Horse, a Capo, a meer Titt; Flesh Ayst ne're be a Mon agen, I marle I con speak, I conno pray, I wot a pox o'th' Deel Mun, Ay live of Oates, and Beans, and Hay aw my life, instead of Beef and Pudding: uds Flesh I neigh too,
Oh who has switcht and spurd me plaguely, I am raw all over me, whoo has ridden a wounded way about too.
I Am sorry I am forced to complain of my Cosin.
Sorry, marry so am not I; I am sorry she is so pert and ill-bred, truly Sir Edward 'tis unsufferable for my Son, a man of his Quality and Title, Born of such a Family, and so Educated, to be so abused, to have Stones thrown at him li•e a Dog.
We must e'en break off the Match, Sir Edward.
Sir, I am as••med of it, I blush and grieve to hear it; Daughter, I never thought to see this day.
Sir, I am so amazed I know not what to say, I abuse my Cosin! Sure he is b•witched.
I think I am, to Love you after it, I am sure my Arm's black and blew, that it is.
He •ested with me, as I thought, and would have ruffled me, and kissed me, a•d I run from him, and in foolish play, I quoited a little Stone or two at him.
And why did you call me Filthy-face, and ugly Fellow, h•h, Gentlewo∣man?
He ugly! Nay, then I have no Eyes, though I say't, that should not say't, 〈…〉 his Fellow—
Nor I neither: 'twas a jest, a jest, he told me he was handsomer for a Man, than I for a Woman.
Why, look you there, you Blockhead, you Clown, you Puppy, why do you trouble us with this impertinent lye?
Good words, Sir Ieffery, 'twas not so much amiss; hah, I'le tell you that.
Sure this is some mistake, you told me you were willing to marry.
I did not think I should be put to acknowledg it before this Company: But Heaven knows, I am not more willing to live; the time is now so short, I may con∣fess it.
You would not use him, you intend to marry, ill.
I Love him I am to marry more than Light or Liberty. I have thus long dis∣sembled it through Modesty; but, now I am provoked, I beseech you Sir, think not that I'd dishonour you so.
Look you, you have made her weep; I never found her false or disobe∣dient.
Nay, good dear Cousin, don't cry, you'l make me cry too; I can't forbear, I ask your pardon with all my heart, I vow I do, I was to blame, I must confess.
Go too, Sir Timothy, I never could believe one of your parts would play the Fool so.
And you will marry to morrow.
I never wisht for any thing so much, you make me blush to say this.
Sweet Cousin forgive me, and Sir Ieffery, and Sir Timothy.
Can I be angry at any thing▪ when I am to be married to morrow? And I am sure I will be, to him I love more than I hate this Fool.
I could find in my heart to break your head, Sir Timothy, you are a Puppy.
Come lets leave 'em together, to understand one another better.
Cousin, Daughter I should say, I beg your pardon, your Servant.
Servant, Sweet Daughter.
Dear Cosin be in good humour, I could wish my self well beaten for mistaking one that loves me so, I would I might ne're stir, if I did not think you had been in earnest: well, but I vow and swear I am mightily beholden to you, that you think me so fine a person, and love me so dearly; Oh how happy am I that I shall have thee to morrow in these Arms! by these ten bones, I love you more than all the Ladies in London put them together. Prethee Speak to me, O that Smile Kills me, oh I will •o Hug thee and Kiss thee, and Love thee to morrow night—I'd give forty pound to morrow night were to night, I hope we shall have twins before the year comes about▪
Do you so Puppy?
Help, Help, Murder, Murder.
Help, Help, Murder, Murder.
What a Devils to do now? hah, she Counterfeits a Sound.
How now, my Dear, what's the matter?
What's the Matter?
I feel the matter, She gave me a Cuff, and lug'd me by the Ears, and I think she is in a Sound.
Oh the Witch! the Witch came just now into the Room, and struck Sir Timothy, and Lug'd him, and beat me down.
Oh Lord, a Witch! Ay, 'twas a two legg'd Witch.
And, assoon as she had done, she run out of that Door.
'Tis very true, I met her and was frighted, and left her muttering in the next 〈◊〉.
You Puppy, you Coxcomb, will you never leave these lyes, is the fellow bewitched?
Go Fool, I am ashamed of you.
Let•s see if we can take this Witch.
Quickly, before she flies away.
Well, I have done, I'le ne're tell tale more.
Begone, Fool, go.
Well, I will •ndure this, but I am resolved to marry her to morrow and be revenged on her; if she serves me so then, I will tickle her Toby for her, faith I will.
Well, I'le be gone, and get out of the way of 'em.
Madam! Cozen hold a little, I desire a word with you.
I must stay.
I am drunken well 〈◊〉, and now I am not so hala (since we must mar∣ry to morrow) I pray you n•w l•t us be a little better acquainted to neeght, He make bold to Salute you in a Civil way.
The Fool's drunk.
By the Mass she kisses rarely, uds lud she has a Breath as sweet as a Cow, I have been a Hawking, and have brought you home a power of Powts in my bag here; we have had the rarest sport, we had been at it still, but that 'tis neeght.
You have been at some other sport I see.
What, because I am merry? nay, and I list, I can be as merry as the best on •em all.
I see you can be merry indeed.
Ay that I can, Fa, la, la, fa, la.
Page 49 I was at it helter Skelter in excellent Ale, with Londoners that went a Hawking, brave Roysters, honest fellows that did not beleive the Plot.
Why don't you beleive the Plot?
No, the Chaplain has told me all; there's no Popish Plot, but there's a Pres∣byterian one, he says, none but Phanaticks believe it.
An Excellent Chaplain to make love to his Patrons Daughter, and Corrupt the Son.
Why all the Eminent men of our Church beleive it; this fellow is none of the Church, but crept into it for a livelyhood, and as soon as they find him they'l turn him out of it.
Nay, Cousin I should not have told it, he Charged me to say nothing of it; but you and I a•e all one, you are to be bone of my bone to morrow: And I will Sa∣lute you once more upon that d'e see.
Hold, Hold, not so fast 'tis not come to that yet.
'Twill come to that and more to morrow, fa, la, la, but I'le out at four a Hawking, though for all that, d'e understand me?
Her'es Doubty, I must get rid of this fool.
Cousin, I hear your Father coming; if he sees you in this Condition hee'l be very Angry.
Thank you Kindly, no more to be said, I'le go and Sleep a little, I see she loves me, fa, la, la, la.
Dear Madam, this is a happy 〈◊〉 thrown upon me unexpectedly, and I must use it: To morrow is the faral day to ruin me.
It shall not ruin me: the Inquisition should not force me to a Marriage with this fool.
This is a step to my Comfort; but when your Father shall to morrow hear your refusal, you know not what his passion may produce; restraint of Liberty is the least.
He shall not restrain my Liberty of Choice.
Put your self into those hands that may defend you from his Power: the hands of him, who loves you more than the most Pious value Heaven, than Misers Gold, than Clergy men love Power, than Lawyers strife, than Jesuites Blood and Treachery.
If I could find such a man.
Then look no farther Madam, I am he; speak but one word, and make me the happiest man on Earth.
It comes a little to quick upon me; are you sure you are the man you speak of?
By Heaven; and by your Self I am, or may I be the scorn of all Mankind; and the most Miserable too, without you.
Then you shall be the man.
Heaven; on my Knees I must receive this Blessing; there's not another I would ask, my Joy's too big for me.
No Raptures for Heavens sake, here comes my Mother, adieu.
I must Compose my self.
Sir your most humble Servant.
Your Ladiships most humble Servant.
It is not fit I should lose this opportunity, to tell you that (which per∣haps may not be unacceptable to a person of your Complexion) who is so much a Gentleman, that I'le swear I have not seen your equal.
Dear Madam, you confound me with your Praises.
I vow 'tis true; indeed I have strugled with my self before I thought fit to reveal this: but the consideration of your great accomplishments, do indeed, as it were, ravish, or extort it from me, as I may so say.
I beseech you Madam.
There is a Friend of mine, a Lady (whom the world has acknowledged to be well bread, and of Parts too, that I must say, and almost confess) not in the Bud indeed, but in the Flower of her Age, whom time has not yet invaded with his injuries; in fine, envy cannot say that she is less than a full ripe Beauty.
That this Creature should bring forth such a Daughter.
Fair of Complexion, Tall, Streight, and shaped much above the ordinary; in short, this Lady (whom many have Languished, and Sigh'd in vain for) does of her self, so much admire your Person, and your Parts, that she extreamly desires to contract a Friendship with you, intire to all intents and purposes.
'Tis impossible she should be in earnest, Madam, but were she, I cannot Marry ever.
Why she is Married already, Lord how dull he is! she is the best Friend I have, Married to an old man, far above her sprightly years.
What a Mother-in-Law am I like to have!
Can you not Guess who this is all this while?
Ha, ha, ha, no! that's strange, ha, ha, ha.
I cannot possibly.
Ha, ha, ha. I'le swear! ha, ha, ha.
No, I•le swear.
'Tis very much, you are an ill guesser, I'le vow, ha, ha, ha! Oh Lord, not yet?
Not yet, nor ever can.
Here's Company, retire.
I am all on fire, what is it that Inspires me! I thought her ugly once, but this morning thought 〈…〉 in love already! Sure I was blind, she is a beauty 〈…〉 a minutes absence is death to me.
Phaat Joy, dou art in Meditaation and Consideraation upon something? if it be a Scruple upon thy Conscience, I believe I vill maak it out unto dee.
No Sir, I am only ruminating a while; I am inflamed with her affection, O Susan! Susan! Ah me! Ah me!
Phaat dost dou not mind me? nor put dy thought upon me? I do desire to know of dy Faathers Child, what he does differ from de Caatholick Church in, by my fait it is a braave Church, and a gaallant Church (de Devil taake mee) I vill tell you now, phare is dere such a one? vill you speak unto me now Joy, hoh?
'Tis a fine Church, a Church of Splender, and riches, and power, but there are some things in it—
Shome things! Phaat dosht dou taalk of shome things? By my shoule I vill not see a better Church in a Shommers day, indeed, dan de Caatholick Church. I tell you there is braave dignities, and promotions too; what vill I shay unto you? by St. Phaatrick, but I do beleeve I vill be a Cardinal before I vill have death. Dey have had not one Eerish Cardinal a great while indeed.
What power is this that urges me so fast, oh Love! Love!
Phaat dosht dou shay, dosht dou love promotions and dignities? den I predee now be a Caatholick. What vill I say unto you more? but I vill tell you, You do shay dat de Caatholicks may be shaved, and de Caatholicks do shay, dat you vill be after being damn'd, and phare is de solidity now of daat, daat dou vill not turn a good Caatholick?
I cannot beleive there is a Purgatory.
No! Phy I vill tell you what I vill shay unto you, I have sheen many Shoules of Purgatory dat did appear unto me; And by my trot, I do know a Shoule when I do shee it, and de Shoules did speak unto me, and did deshire of me dat I vould pray dem out of that plaashe: And dere Paarents, and Friends did give me shome money, and I did pray 'em out. Widout money indeed, we cannot pray dem out, no fait.
That may not be so hard; but for Transubstantiation, I can never beleive it.
Phaat dosht not beleive de Cooncel of Trent Joy? dou vilt be damn'd indeed, and de Devil take me, if dou dosht not beleive it. I vill tell you phaat vill I say to you, a Cooncel is infalible; and I tell you, de Cardinals are infalible too, upon occaa∣sion, and dey are damn'd Heretick Dogs, by my shoulvaation, dat do not beleive every oord dey vill speak indeed.
I feel a flame within me, oh Love, Love, wether wilt thou carry me?
Art thou in love Joy? by my shoule dou dosht Comitt fornicaation, I vill tell you it is a veniall Sinn, and I vill after be absolveing you for it: but if dou dosh Comitt Marrage, it is mortall, and dou vilt be damn'd and bee fait and trot. I predee now vill dou fornicate and not Marry: for my shaake now vilt dou fornicate.
Sure I am bewitch'd.
Bewitch'd in love, Aboo! boo! I'le tell you now, you must taake de Womans* Shoe dat dou dosht Love sho, and dou must maak a Jaakes of it, dat is to shay, dou must lay a Sirreverence, and be in it, and it will maake cure upon dee.
Oh the Witch! the Witch! Mal. Spencer, I am struck in my Bowels, take Page 58〈1 page duplicate〉Page 59〈1 page duplicate〉Page 52 her away, there, oh! I have a Thousand Needles in me, take her away, Mal. Spencer.
Phaare is shee, Mal. Spencer. Exercize te Conjure te in Nomine, &c.
Oh, I have a Million of Needles Pricking my Bowels.
I vill, set up a hubub for dee, help! help! who is dere? help, Aboo, boo, boo.
Oh Needles! Needles! Take away Mal. Spencer, take her away.
He is bewitch'd, some Witch has gotten his Image, and is tormenting it.
Hold him, and I vill taak some course vid him, he is possess'd, or obess'd, I vill touch him vid some Relicks.
Oh, good Sir, help him, what shall I do for him?
Get some Lead melted (and holding over his body) power it into a Po∣ringer full of Water, and if there appear any image upon the Lead, then he is be∣witch'd.
Peash, I shay, here is shome of St. Phaatricks own Whisker, and some of the Snuff he did use to taak, dat did hang upon his Beard; here is a Tooth of St. Winifred, indeed, here is a Corn from de Toe of St. Ignatius, and here is de paring of his Nails too.
Oh worse, worse, take her away.
By my shoule it is a very strong Devil, I vill try some more, here is St. Caa∣terine de Virgins Wedding-Ring, here is one of St. Bridge•s Nipples of her Tuggs, by my shoule, here is some of de sweat of St. Francis, and here is a piece of St. Laurence's Grid∣iron, dese vill make Cure upon any shickness, if it be not ones lasht shickness.
What will become of me, I have poyson'd him, I shall lose my Lover, and be hang'd into the bargain.
Oh! I dye, I dye, oh, oh.
By my shoule it is a very strong Devil, a very aable Devil, I vill run and •etch shome Holy-vater.
Look up, dear Sir, speak to me, ah woes me, Mr. Smerk, Mr. Smerk.
This Irish-man is a Gallant man about Witches, he out does me.
But I do not know what to think of his Popish way, his Words, his Charms, and Holy Water, and Relicks, methinks he is guilty of Witchcrast too, and you should send him to Goal for it.
Now, I varrant you Joy, I vill do de Devil's business for him, now I have dis Holy-Vater.
This is wonderful!
Conjure te malum 〈◊〉, Conjure te pessir•• in 〈◊〉, redde mihi me•• (〈◊〉 Latime) Bottle, phaat vill I do? It is gone
'Tis strange: You se he does not fear holy-water.
I tell you phaat is de matter, by my Shoule he vill touch de Bottle, be∣cause daat is not Consecrate; but, by my fait, he will not meddle vid de Vater. I vill ferch shome, I have in a Baashon.
He lyes as if he were a Sleep.
Oh! I begin to have some ease.
I did never meet vid a Devil dat did Cosht so much Laabour before.
Exercis• te Demonens fuge, fuge, Exerciso te, per Melchefideck, per Bethlehem Gabor, per omne quod Exit in um seu Graecum sive Latinum.
I am much better now, and the Witch is gone.
Good Sir retire to your Chamber, I will fetch some Cordials.
Sweet beautiful Creature! How I am Enamour'd with thee! Thy beauty dazles like the Sun in his Meridian.
Beauty, Enamourd! Why he seems distracted still; lead him to his Cham∣ber, and let him rest.
Now Joy, dosht dou shee, I have maade a Miracle by my shoule. Phen vill I shee one of your Church maake a Miracle, hoh? by my Shoulevaation dey cannot maake Miracles out of de Caatolick Church, I tell you now, hoh.
Phaat is de matter now, ah? by my shoule shomething does cuff upon my faash, an bee, Exercise te in •omine, nomine, by my shoule Saatan, I vill pelt dee vid Holy-Vater in∣deed; he is Angry dat I did make a Miracle.
What is this, I hear the blows, and see nothing.
So do I, I am frighted and amazed; lets fly.
Oh, oh, vat is dis for Joy, oh, all my Holy-Vater is gone, I must fly.
All this day have I watched for this opertunity, let me improve it now. Con∣sider, Madam, my Extream Love to you, and your own harred to that Fool, for whom you are designed to morrow.
My consent is to be had first.
Your Fathers resentment of your refusal, may put you out of all possibillity of making me happy, or providing for your own Content.
To Marry one against his Consent is a Crime heel ne're forgive.
Though his Engagement to Sir Ieffery would make him Refuse his Consent beforehand: He is too reasonable a man to be troubled afterwards, at your Marrying to a better Estate, and to one that loves more than he can tell you: I have not words for it.
Though I must Confess you may deserve much better, would you not Ima∣gine I were very forward to receive you upon so short an Acquaintance.
Would I had a Casement in my Breast. Make me not, by your delay, the miserablest wretch on Earth. (Which I shall ever be without you) think quickly Madam, you have not time to Consider long, I lay my self at your Feet, to be for ever made happy or miserable by you.
How shall I be sure you'l not deceive me? These hasty vows, like Angry words, Seldom shoes the Heart.
By all the Powers of Heaven and Earth.
Hold, Swear not, I had better take a man of honour at his Word.
And may Heaven throw its Curses on me when I break it; my Chaplin's in the House, and passes for my valet de Chambre. Will you for ever make me Hap∣py Madam?
Ile trust your honour; and I'le make my self so; I throw my self upon you, use me nobly: now 'tis out.
Use yee, as I would use my Soul; my Honour, my Heart, my Life, my Liberty, and all I have is yours. There's not a man in all the World, that I can envy now, or wish to be.
Take care, we shall be spyed: The short time I have to resolve in, will, I hope, make you have a better Opinion of my modesty, than otherwise you would have occasion for.
Dearest! Sweetest of Creatures! my Joy distracts me, I cannot speak to you.
For Heavens sake leave me, if you raise a Jealously in the House I am ruin'd, we'll meet soon.
Adieu my Life! my Soul! I am all obedience.
Oh my Dear, I am happy, all's out that pained me so; my Lover knows I love him.
I have Confessed to my Ghostly Father too, and my Conscience is at ease.
Mine received the news with more Joy, than he Could put in Words.
And mine in rapture; I am the happiest Woman Living.
I'le not yeild to you at all in that.
There's no cause, I would not submit to you in, but this my Dear.
I will hold out in this cause while I have breath, I am happier in my Choyce than all the World can make me.
Mine is the Hansomest, Wittiest, most accomplisht Gentleman—
Mine is the beautifullest, sweetest, well-shap'd, well-bred, wittiest Gentleman—
That must be I, whom she means, for all my Quarrels with her.
Peace, we shall hear more.
Little think our Fathers how happy we shall be to morrow.
What's that? Listen.
(If no unlucky Accident should hinder us) we shall be farr happier than they can Imagine.
How we have Cheated them all this while!
'Slife they are behind us, stirr not. We have hidden our love from them all this while.
Have you so? but we shall find it now.
Your Brother Little thinks I Love him so; For I have been Cross and coy to him on purpose. I shall be the happiest Woman in him, I am to have, that ever was.
I could wish your Brother lov'd me as well as mine does you. For never Wo∣man loved the man she was to Marry as I do him, I am to have to morrow.
That's my best Daughter, thou wert ever a good Child, nay blush no•, all is out, we heard ye both.
Ay, all is out, my pretty Dear dissembler: well, I protest and vow, I am mightily obliged to you for your great love to me, and good opinion of me.
Oh Sir Edward, is not that strange I told you, I should not have beleived it if I had not seen it.
And pray give me the same liberty: But now wee'l have some musick, that's good against inchantment, Sing me the Song I Commanded you, and then wee'l have a dance before we go to bed.
Hoh, 'tis a pretty Shong, but I vill shing a brave Cronan now, dat is better I tell you.
'Tis very fine but sing me one Song more in three parts, to sweeten our Ears, for all that.* Why what's the matter? you gape and make faces, and do not sing, what's the matter, are you mad?
Doe you play, play I say, Oh they are bewitch'd, I vill shay no more.
Play I say.
I can't, my Arms are on the sudden stiff as marble, I cannot move them.
Sure this is roguery, and Confederacy.
Conjuro te conjuro in nonime, &c.
Hold, hold, prethee don't duck us all we are not all bewitch'd.
I tell you it ish good for you an bee, and vill defend you upon occasion.
Now you see, Sir, with your own Eyes; cannot you give us a Receipt to make Holy-water?
A Resheit, aboo, boo, boo; by my Shoule he is a Foole. I have ma••e Page 62〈1 page duplicate〉Page 63〈1 page duplicate〉Page 56 two Hogsheads gra: and I vill have you vash all de Rooms vid it, and de Devill vill not come upon de plaash by my Shalvaation.
'Tis a little odd; but however, I shall not fly from my Belief, that every thing is done by Natural Causes, because I cannot presently assign those Causes.
You are in the right, we know not the powers of matter.
When any thing unwonted happens, and we not see the cause, we call it unnatural and miraculous.
By my Shoule you do talke like Heretick-Dogs, and Aathiests.
Let us enquire farther about these Musicians.
I vill maake shome Miracles, and I think I vill be after reconcileing dem indeed, oh dou damn'd vitch.
Byr Lady 'tis meeghty strong Ale, Ay am well neegh drunken, and my Nephew will bee stark wood, his Hawkes want their Pidgeon saw this neeght.
Why what wouden yeow bee a Angee? Flesh, Ay ha getten de Bridle byr Lady, Ayst ma some body carry mee, and bee my Titt too.
Thou'rt a strange Fillee (Horse I should say) why didst thou think thou wast a Titt when th' Bridle was on thee.
Ay marry, I know weel I am sure, I wott I was a Titt, a meere Titt.
Listen, there's a noise of women in the Ayr, it comes towards us.
Ay by th'Mass, 'tis Witches.
Wawnds and Flesh it is a flock of Witches byr Lady, they come reeght ore head, I'st let fly at 'em, hah, be th' mass I ha mamed one, heres one has a wing brocken at least.
M. Spencer by th' mass.
O Rogues! I'le be revenged on you, Dogs, Villains, you have broken my Arm.
I was made a Horse, a Titt by thee, by th' mass I'st be revenged o'thee.
O'ds Flesh, what's this? I connot believe my Sences; I mun walk home alone, but I'le charge my Peice again byr Lady, and the Haggs come agen I'st have t'other Shoot at 'em.
My Dear Friend, I am so transported with excess of Joy, it is become a pain, I cannot bear it.
Dear Bellfort! I am in the same Case, but (if the hope transports us so) what will Enjoyment do?
My Blood is chill, and shivers when I think on't.
One night with my Mistress would outweigh an Age of Slavery to come.
Rather than be without a nights Enjoyment of mine, I would be hang'd next morning: I am Impatient till they appear.
They are Women of Honour, and will keep their Words; your Parson's ready, and three or four of our Servants for Witnesses.
He is so, 'twill be dispatch'd in half a quarter of an hour, all are retired to bed.
Go in, yonders my Lady-Mother-in-Law coming, I must contrive a way to secure her: in, in.
Death, that this old Fellow should be asleep already! she comes now to discover, what I know too well already.
He is there I'le swear, a punctual Gentleman, and a person of much honour; Sir, I am come according to your appointment; Sir Ieffery is fast.
'Tis before I expected, Madam, I thought to have left Bellfort asleep, who is a Jealous man, and believes there is an Intrigue betwixt your Ladiship and me.
I vow: ha, ha, ha, me! no, no; ha, ha, ha.
Retire for a short time, and when I have secured him, I'le wait on you; but let it be i'th' dark.
You speak like a Discreet and Worthy Person, remember this Room, there's no body lies in it; I will stay there in the dark for you.
Your most humble Servant. Well, I will go to the Ladies Chamber as if I •istook it for mine, and let them know this is the time.
Dere is shometimes de pretty Wenches, doe walke here in de dark at night, and by my Shoulvaation if I doe catch one, I vill be after enjoying her Body: and fait and trot I have a great need too, it is a venial Sin, and I do not care.
Death, who is here? stay Ladies, here's the damn'd Priest in the way.
Go you, wee'l follow by and by in the dark.
I hear one trampling, he is come already, sure Bellfort is asleep; who is there?
By my Shoul it is a Womans speech, 'tis I; where are you? by my fait I vill maak a Child upon her Body.
Ay, let me put a sweet Kish upon dy hand Joy, and now I vill Shalute dy Mout, and I vill embraash dy Body too indeed.
S'life, I am mistaken, this is the Irish Priest; his understanding is sure to betray him.
I predee now Joy be not nishe, I vill maak shome good sport vid dee in∣deed.
I vill use dee braavely upon occaasion, I vill tell you, predee kish me upon my Faash now, it is a braave kish indeed.
By my Shoul don art very hansome, I doe know it, dough I cannot shee dee. I predee now retire vid me, aboo, aboo, by my Shoule dis is a Gaalant occaasion, come Joy.
What's the meaning of this? he talked to some Woman, and kissed her too, and is retired into the Chamber I was in.
Every thing is quiet, I hear no noise.
Nor I, this is the happy time.
This must be he; who's there?
S'life! this is my Mothers voice, retire softly.
Oh Misfortune! What makes her here? we are undone if she discovers us.
Whose there I say? will you not answer? what can this mean? 'tis not a Wench I hope for Doubty, and then I care not.
I am impatient till he comes; ha, whom have we here? I am sure this is not he, he does not come that way.
By my shoul Joy, dou art a Gaalant peece of Flesh, a braave Bedfellow, phoo art dou?
One that loves you dearly.
Phaat vill I doe to shee dy faash I wonder? Oh, here is a light approaching unto us.
Who's this with a light? I must fly.
Now I vill shee dy faash.
O, Sir, are you there? I am going to Mr. Smirk with this Candle poor man.
O phaat have I done? Oh! de Vich! de Vich!
Oh! the Witch! the Witch!
By my Shoule I have had communicaation and Copulaation too vid a Succubus; Oh! phaat vill I do! phaat vill I do! by my fait and trot, I did tought shee had been a braave and gaallant Lady, and bee, oh! oh!
What shriek was that? hah! here's nobody, sure all's clear now!
I heard a shriek, this is the time to venture, they are frighted out of the Gal∣lery, and all's clear now.
Let's venture; we shall have people stirring very early this morning to pre∣pare for the Wedding else.
Isabella, The dosia, Bellfort, Doubty disguis'd, Parson and Servants in the Chamber.
You see we are women of words, and women of courage too, that dare venture upon this dreadful business.
Welcom, more welcom than all the Treasures of the Sea and Land.
More welcom than a Thousand Angels.
Death! we are undone, one knocks.
Curse on 'em; keep the door fast.
Gentlemen open the door for Heavens sake, quickly.
Open it, we are ruined else; wee'l into the Bed, you know what you have to do.
Gentlemen, the House is alarm'd with Witches, and I saw two come into this Chamber, and come to give you notice.
Here are none but whom you see.
They come invisibly then; for we had our eyes on the door.
Are they not about the Bed somewhere? Let's search.
There are no Witches there, I can assure you.
Look a little, I warrant you.
Open the door quickly, quickly, the Witches are there.
Oh! my Husband, I am ruin'd if he sees me here.
Put out the Candles,
Oh! Oh! I have broken my knees; this is the Witches doing: I have loast my Wife too: lights, lights there.
Ile not stay here.
Here's no staying for us.
Quickly, go by the Wall.
For Heavens sake let's into the Gallery and call for lights.
A Curse upon this Fellow and all ill luck.
Hell take him, the Ladies are gone too.
WHat unfortunate disapointments have we met with!
All ill luck has conspired against us this night.
We have been near being discover'd, which would have ruin'd us.
And we have but this night to do our business in; if we dispatch not this af∣fair now, all will come out to morrow.
I tremble to think on't; sure the surprise the Ladies were in before, has fright∣ed 'em from attempting again.
I rather think that they have met with people, in the Gallery, that have prevented 'em.
Now I reflect, I am apt to think so too; for they seem to be very hearty in this matter. Once more go to their Chamber.
Go you in then to ours.
Hold, Mr. Doubty.
A Curse on all damn'd luck, is she here?
Sweet Madam, is it you! I have been watching, for Bellfort's sleeping ever since.
I venture hard, since Sir Ieffery miss'd me out of Bed, I had much a-do to •asten an excuse upon him.
I am so affraid of Bellforts coming, Madam, he was here but even now: The hazard of your honour puts me in an Agony.
O dear Sir, put out the Candle, and he can never discover any thing; be∣sides, we will retire into you Room.
Death, what shall I do now.
And since it is dark, and you cannot see my Blushes, I must tell you, you are a very ill guesser; for I my self was the person I discrib'd.
Oh Madam! you raille me, I will never believe it while I live; it is impos∣sible.
I'le swear 'tis true: Let us withdraw into that Room, or we shall be dis∣cover'd.
Page 63 Oh Heaven, I am undone, my Husband with a light run into your Cham∣ber.
Tis a happy deliverance.
I'le counterfeit walking in my sleep.
Where is this Wife of mine? She told me she fell asleep in the Closet, at her Prayers, when I mist her before; and I found her there at my coming back to my Chamber: But now she is not there I am sure. Ha! here she is. Ha, what is she blind! she takes no notice of me! how gingerly she treads!
Oh! stand off—who's that would kill my dear Sir Ieffery? stand off I say.
Oh Lord, kill me! where! ha! here's nobody.
Oh! the Witch, the Witch, oh she pulls the cloaths off me. Hold me, dear Sir Ieffery, hold me.
On my Conscience and Soul she walks in her sleep.
Oh, all the Cloaths are off, cover me, oh I am so cold!
Good lack a day, it is so! my Dear, my Lady.
Wake I say, wake.
'Tis I my dear.
Oh Heav'n! Sir Ieffery, where am I?
Here in the Gallery.
Oh! how came I here?
Why, thou didst walk in thy sleep; good lack a day, I never saw the like.
In my sleep say you! oh Heav'n! I have catcht my death. Let's to Bed, and tell me the story there.
Come on. Ha, ha, ha, this is such a jest! walk in your sleep! gods∣niggs, I shall so laugh at this in the morning.
This is a happy come off.
If we do not get into this Chamber suddenly, we are undone: They are up in the Offices already.
Never have adventures been so often disapointed, in so short a time.
There's no body in the Gallery now, we may go.
Hast then, and let us fly thither.
Ah, what's this?
Oh! the Witches, the Witches.
Oh mercy upon us, where is this Candle?
So let me tell you, 'Twas no Witch; they were the two young Ladies, that frighted my dear beautious Love so; and I'le acquaint their Parents with it I'le assure you.
This is strange, what could they have to do at this time o'th' night!Page 58〈1 page duplicate〉Page 63〈1 page duplicate〉
I know not. But I well know what I have to do. I am inflam'd beyond all measure, with thy heavenly beauty.
Alas, my beauty is but moderate; yet none of the worst, I must needs say.
'Tis blasphemy to say so; your eyes are bright like two Twin-Stars; your Face is an Ocean of beauty; and your Nose a Rock arising from it, on which my heart did split; Nothing but Ruby and Pearl is about thee; I must blazon thee by Jewels, thy beauty is of a Noble rank.
Good lack, what fine language is this! well, 'tis a rare thing to be a Schollar.
'Tis a miracle I should not think her hansome before this day; she is an Angel! Isabella is a Dowdy to her. You have an unexhausted mine of beauty. Dear Mrs. Susan cast thy Smiles upon me, and let me labour in thy Quarry: Love makes me Eloquent and Allegorical.
Sweet Sir, you oblige me very much by your fine Language; but I vow I understand it not: yet methinks it goes very prettily.
I will unfold my hear unto thee; let me approach thy lip, Oh fragrant! fragrant! Arabia felix is upon this lip.
Ha! upon my lip, what's that? I have nothing, I have no pimple, nor any thing upon my lip, not I.
Sweet Innocence—I will be plain; I am inflam'd within, and would injoy thy lovely Body in sweet dalliance.
How Sir! do you pretend to be a Divine, and would commit this sin! know, I will preserve my Honour and my Conscience.
Conscience? why so you shall, as long as our minds are united. The Casu∣ists will tell you, it is a Marriage in foro 〈◊〉▪ and besides, the Church of Rome allows Fornication: And truly it is much practis'd in our 〈◊〉 too. Let us retire, come, come.
Stand off, I defie you: your Casuists are Knaves, and you are a Papist, you are a foul voluptuous Sw•n•, and I will never smile on you more. Farewell.
Hold, hold, Dear, ••autious Creature, I am at thy mercy: Must I marry then? speak. Prethee spare me that, and I'le do any thing.
Stand off, I scorn thy Love; thou art a pitious Fellow.
Dear Mrs. Susan hear me; let us but do the thing, and then I'le marry thee.
I'le see thee hang'd e're I'le trust thee, or e're a Whoremaster of you all. No, I have been serv'd that trick too often already, I thank you.
Must I then Marry?
Heav'n what's this, the damn'd Priest? These disguises will serve our turn yet: oh, Sir we are haunted with Witches here, run in quickly for some Holy-water.
I vill, I vill, let me alone.
Now in, in quickly.
Phaar is dese Vitches? phaar are dey? hah, dey are Wanisht for feare of me, I vill put dish down in dis plaash for my defence; what vill I do now? I have maade Fornication vid dis Vitch or Succubus indeed; when I do go home, I vill be after being absolv'd for it, and den I vill be as Innocent as de child unborne by my Shoule. I have hangd my self all round vid reliques indeed, and de Sprights and de Vitches cannot hurt me fait and trot.—
My Dear, I come to visit thee again.
Phaat is here, de Vitch agen does come to haunt me, Benidi•••e, out upon dee dou damn'd Vitch, vat dosht dou come upon me for? I defy dee, a plaague taak dee indeed.
I am no Witch, I am a poor Innocent woman, and a Tenant of Sir Ed∣wards, and one that loves you dearly.
Dou plaagy Vitch, let me come unto my holy vater, and I vill pay dee off indeed; hoh, by my shoulvaation 'tis all flown away—oh dou damnd Vitch, I vill hang dee indeed.
Pretdee be kinder, my Dear, and kiss me.
Out, out, kiss dee—a plaague taake dee Ioy▪ stand off upon me, by my shoul∣vaation, I vill kiss de dogs Arse shaving dy presence, before I vill be after kishing dee.
Be not so unkind to thy own Dear. Thou didst promise me Marriage, thou know'st, and I come to claim thee for my Husband.
Aboo, boo, boo, Marriage, Vat vill I Marry vid a Vitch, by my shoule—Conjuro •e, fuge, fuge.
Do not think to put me off with your Latine; for do you hear Sir, you promised me Marriage, and I will have you.
Oh phaat vill I do? Vat vill I do?
This Morning I will Marry you, I'le stay no longer, you are mine.
By my shoule Joy I vill tell you, I am a Romish Priest, and I cannot Maarry. What would you have now?
You shall turn Protestant then, for I will have you.
By St. Paatrick phaat does she say? Oh damn'd Protestant Vitch. I vill speak shivilly, Madam, I vill tell dee now, if dou vill repair unto dine own House, by my shoulwaation I vill come unto dee to morrow, and I vill give dee satisfaaction indeed.
I'le not be put off, Ile have you now.
By my Shoul I vill not go, I vill hang dee for a Vitch; and now I do appre∣hend dee upon daat. Help, help.
I have taaken a Vitch ineeed: Help, help.
I am your Wife.
Help, help, I have taaken a Vitch.
Ha! what's here? one of the Witches by th'Mess.
Ay, by my Shoule Ioy, I have taaken her.
Nay, byr Lady, whoo has taken yeow by yeowr leave.
We han taken a Witch too; lay hawd on her.
Dost dou mutter? By my shoule I vill hang dee Ioy; a plaague taak dee indeed.
Thou art a Popish Priest, and I will hang thee.
I am Innocent as the Child unborn, I vill taak de Oades, and bee—
Marmot, Mamilion, Rouncy, Puckling, little Master, have you left me all?
We han got another Witch, who's strongly gaurded and Watched i'th stabo.
Come let's hale her thether: We cou'd not get into the hawse till naw, we came whoame so late at night.
Come let us taake de Vitch away: I vill hang dee Joy—a plaague taake dee fait.
Am I o'retaken then—I am Innocent, I am Innocent.
Let us carry her thether, come along.
Pull her away—we will be after hanging of you Fait and Trot.
I could not rest to night for the Joy of being Marryed to day: 'Tis a pret∣ty Rogue—she's somewhat Cross—but I warrant her she will love me, when she has tryed me once.
Why would you rise so soon? 'Tis not day yet.
'Tis no matter, I cannot sleep man, I am to be Married Sirrah.
Ay, and therefore you should have slept now, that you might watch the bet∣ter at night: For 'twill be uncivil to sleep much upon your Wedding Night.
Uncivil, ay that it will—very uncivil: I wont sleep a wink. call my new Brother-in-Law: Oh here he is, he can't sleep neither.
Set down the Candle; and go bid the Groom get the Horses ready, I must away to the Powts.
Oh Brother, good morrow to you; what a Devil's this—what booted! are you taking a Journey upon your wedding day?
No, but I will not lose my Hawking this Morning; I will come back time enough to be Married Brother.
Well, breeding's a fine thing—this is a strange ill-bred Fellow! what Hawk upon your Wedding day! I have other game to fly at—Oh how I long for night— why my Sister will think you care not for her.
Sir, I cannot come at the Horses, for the People have taken a brace of Witches, and they are in the stable under a strong guard, that will let no body come at 'em.
Uds flesh, I shall have my Horses bewitch'd, and lose 500 Pounds worth of Horse Flesh.
No, no, they can do no hurt—when they are taken the Devil leaves 'em— Let's go see 'em—
What shall we do?
Let us stand up close against the Wall.
Listen, here are the Witches, what will become of us?
A Thousand blessings light on thee my Dear Pretty Witch.
O Lord! there's the Devil too Courting of a Witch.
This is the first Night I ever liv'd, thou Dearest, Sweetest Creature.
Oh! sweet quoth a, that's more than I can say of my self at this time.
We will go and be decently prepared for the Wedding that's Expected:
Not a word of discovery till the last; creep by the Wall. Ha—who's here!
Oh good Devil don't hurt us, we are your humble servants.
In▪ in quickly—
Lights, Lights, Help, Help, Murder, Murder, Oh good Devil dont hurt me; I am a Whoremaster.
And I am a Drunkard; Help, Help, Murder.
What's the Matter?
Phaat is de matter Joy?
O Nuncle! here have been Devils and Witches: They have flown away with our Candles, and put us in fear of our lives.
Here's a great Storm Arising—what can be the matter! the Haggs are at Warck by'r Lady, and they come to me by'th' mass, I ha getten my brawd Sward: Ay•• mow 'em down, ged faith will I.
Be not affraid, I vill taake a Caare, and I vill conjure down this Tempest fait an bee.
Fl•sh that Thunder Clap shook the haw•e, Candle burns blew too.
Death, it goes out, what will become of us?
An the Witches come, by'r Lady Ayst mow 'em down with my brawd Sward I warrant o'—I have shot one Witch •lying to Neeght already.
What's this! we are set upon by Cats.
They are Witches in the shape of Cats, what shall we do?
Have at ye all, I ha Mauld some of 'em by'th' mass, they are fled, but I am plagneily scratcht.
Dey ware affraid of my Charmes, and de sign of de Cross did maake dem fly—but d•y have s•ratcht a great deale upon my faash for all daat.
Mine is all of a gore blood.
And mine too—that th•s• damn'd Witches should disfigure my Counte∣nance upon my Wedding day.
O Lord, what a Tempest's this?
Heaven! What a Storm is this! The Witches and all their Imps are at work. Who are these? hah!—your Faces are all bloody.
We have been frighted out of our Wits; we have been assaulted by Witches in the shape of Cats, and they have scratcht us most ruefully.
But I did fright dem away, by my Shoule.
Why you are as much mauld as any one, nay, they are at work—I never remember such Thunder and Lightning; bid 'em ring out all the Bells at the Church.
I vill* Baptize all your Bells for you Joy, and then they vill stop the Tempest indeed, and not before; I tell you, oh, Baptized Bells are braave things fait.
Flesh, Christen Bells!
Yes, I believe the great Bell at Oxford was Christen'd Tom.
And that at Lincoln has a Christen name too.
I tell de Joy, I vill carry de hosht and shome reliques abroad, and we vill get a black Chicken and maak one of de Vitches throw it into de Aire, and it vill maak stop upon de Tempest.
Why, all the Authors say, * sacrificing a black Chicken so, will raise a Tempest.
What's here a haund! uds Flesh, you see I have cut off a haund of one of the Haggs.
Let's see, this is a lucky evidence; keep it and see what Witch it will fit, and 'tis enough to hang her.
The Storm begins to stay; I did shay shome Aves, and part of de Gospd of St. Iohn, and in fine, fugiat Tempestas, and it does go away upon it indeed.
We may trace her by her Blood.
But hark you, What's the reason my Hawks wanted their Pidgeons: uds bud I shall remember you for it; you think to live like a Lubber here and do nothing.
Peace, I was drunken, peace good Sir Timothy, Ayst do no more so.
Methinks all on a sudden the Storm is laid.
Sir, the Constable and the rest of us have taken the whole flock of Witches: but they fell upon us like Cats first; but we have beaten 'em into Witches, and now we have 'em fast.
So now, their Power's gone when they are taken, let's go see 'em.
I'le wash my face and away a Hawking, now the Storm's over, 'tis broad day.
I will call up Sir Edward; Musick, and wake the two Brides with a Sere∣nade this morning.
It has been a dreadful Storm, and strangely laid o'th' suddain, this is a ioyful day to me: I am now in hopes to strengthen and preserve my Family—my poor Daughter has the worst on't, but she is discreet; and will mould Sir Timothy to what she pleases: he is good natur, •, and he loves her, and his Estate's beyond Ex∣ception.— Go call my Son to me, bid him rise, 'tis day, put out the Candle now.
How now, your Face scrach't! what were you drunk last night, and have been at Cuffs?
No, Sir Timothy, I, and Tegue O Devilly, and Tom. Shaklehead were as∣saulted by Witches in the Shapes of Cats; and Tom. Shaklehead has cut off one of the Cats hands; and all the Witches are taken, and are in the Stable under a strong Guard.
What foolish wild story is this? you have been drunk in Ale, that makes such foggy Dreams.
Sbud Sir, the story is true, you'l find it so.
How now! what makes you booted upon your Wedding-day?
Why, I am going a Hawking this morning, and I'le come home time e∣nough to be marry'd.
Thou most incorrigible Ass, whom no precept or example can teach com∣mon sence to, that would have made thee full of Joy at thy approaching happines; it would have filld thy mind, there could have been no room for any other obiect; to have a good Estate setled upon thee, and to be married to a woman of that Beauty, and that Wit and Wisdom, I have not known her equal, would have transported any one but such a clod of Earth as thou art: thou art an excrement broken from me, not my Son.
Why Sir, I am transported; but can't one be transported with Hawking too? I love it as I love my life, would you have a Gentleman neglect his sports?
None but the vilest men will make their sports their business; their books, their friends, their kindred and their country should concern 'em: such drones serve not the ends of their Creation, and should be lopt of from the rest of men.
A man had better dye than leave his sport; tell me of books, I think theres nothing in 'em for my part; and for Musick I had as live set in the stocks, as hear your fine songs; I love a Bagpipe well enough, but there's no Musick like a ••eep Mouth'd Hound.
Thou most excessive blockhead, thou art enough to imbitter all my sweets; thou art a Wen belonging to me, and I shall do well to cut thee off: but do you hear Fool, Page 69 go and dress your self, and wait upon your Bride, or by Heaven I will disinherit you. This is the Critical day, on which your happiness or misery depends; Think on that.
Was ever so devilish a Father to make one neglect one's sport, because he's no sports-man himself; A Pox on Marrying, could not I Hawk and Marry too? well I am resolv'd I'le steal out after I am Marry'd.
Come on: Place your selves just by her Chamber and play—and sing that Song I love so well.
Well, you have a pleasant way with you, you'l never leave your pretty humors, I see that.
Ha! Thou hast been scratching with Wenches, was not thy face ugly e∣nough, but thou must disfigure it more than Nature has done? one would have thought that had don't enough.
Faith thou art a pretty wag, Thou It never leave thy Roguery; Wenches, why 'twas done by Witches, who in the shape of Cats, had like to have kil'd us: your Brother, my Uncle, and the Irish man are all as bad as I.
Prethee begon, and mend thy Face, I cannot bear it.
Ay, ay, it's no matter, I'le come into thy Chamber, I must be famil•ar with you—
And I will be very free with you; you are a Nauseous Fool and you shall ne∣ver come into my Chamber. •S life, would your begin you Reign before you are Mar∣ry'd? no, I'le dominere now—begon.
Nay, faith I'le not leave you so, you little Cross Rogue you; open the dore there, let me in, let me in I say.
Who's that? Thou art my love, come into my arms.
Oh the Witch! the Witch! help,
So, Now thou art come, my Dear, I'le dispatch the Witches, they are all taken and Guarded in the stable: Clod, bid 'em bring em all hither.
That's well, are they caught? let 'em come before us, we will order 'em.
I would do nothing without thee my Dear.
Here Lady Taake some1 Conjur'd shalt and put upon dee and palme, and shome Holy-Wax daat I did bring for dish occaasion, and de Witches will not hurt dy Laadyship.
Thank you Sir.
I did give dy Husband shome before Joy, but I will speak a word unto you all, let every one2 spit three times upon deir Boshomes, and Cross d•mselves, it is braave upon dis occaasion.
It shall be done.
Daat is very well now.
Let no Vitch3 touch no part about you, and let 'em come vid deir Arshes before deir Faashes, phen dey come to Confession or Examinaation. We have eye-biting Witches in Eerland▪ that kill vid deir Countenance.
This is a very Learned and Wise man.
He is a great man indeed, we are nothing to him.
You vill shee now, now I will speak unto dem, here dey come; I shay bring their Arshes before deir Faashes.
Bring 'em backward, thus.
You Clod, and you Tom. Shacklehead have sworn sufficiently against the Witch Spencer, and so has that Country Fellow.
I am an Innocent Woman, and they have broken my arm with a shot, Rogues, Villains, Murderers.
Dey are angry, daat is a certain sign of a Vitch; and dey cannot cry,4 daat is anoder shine; l•ok to 'em dey doe not put spittle upon deir Faashes to maake beleife daat dey do weep: Yet Bodin dosh shay, daat a Vitch can cry three drops vid her right Eye, I tell you.
Have you searcht 'em all as I bid you Woman?
Yes an't please your Worship, and they have all great Biggs and Teates in many parts, except Mother Madge, and hers are but small ones.
It is enough, make their Mittimus, and send 'em all to Goal.
Ven dey do shay dey are Innocent, and deshire to shave deir lives, 'tis a sher∣tain shigne of a Vitch fait and trot.
Besides, this Woman Margaret Demdike by name, threatned to be revenged on me, and my Cow has been suckt dry ever since, and my Child has had fits.
She lies, she lies, I am Innocent.
This is she that had a hand cut off, it fits her to a hair.
Tis enough: Tis enough.
Must I be hang'd for having my hand cut off? I am Innocent, I am Innocent.
Did not you say to my Wife you would be reveng'd on me? and has not she be•n struck with pain in her rump-bone ever since? and did not my Sow cast her farrow last Night?
You should send your Brother to Goal for cutting my hand off.
What for cutting a Cats hand off? you were a Cat when I cut it off.
An't please your Worship this Woman, Gamer Dickinson, Who threp∣ed: and threped, and aw to becaw'd me last Neeght i'th' Lone, and who said he woud be reveng'd on me; and this Morning at four a Clock Butter would not come, nor the Ale warck a bit, who has bewicht it.
I have heard enough, send 'em all to the Goal.
You must never give a Witch any Milk, Butter, Cheese, or any thing that comes from the Cows.
Now dou damn'd Vitch, I vill be after sheeing dee hang'd indeed, I did taake her by my shoule—
I am a poor Innocent Woman, I am abused, and I am his wife an't please your worship: He had knowledg of me in a Room in the Gallery, and did promise me Marriage.
Hah! what's this?
By my Shalvaation I am innocent as de Child unborn, I speak it before Hea∣v'n, I did never make fornicaation in my life.
There is something in this story, but I dare not speak of it.
I do believe you Mr. O Devilly.
Besides, he is a Popish Priest.
Aboo, boo, boo, a Priest, I vill taake de Oades Fait and trot; I did never taake. Holy Orders since I was bore.
Indeed Sir, I have been told he is a Popish Priest, and has been at Rome.
I speak it in de presence of all de Saints, daat I never did see Rome in all my life, Vid de eyes of a Lyon,
Take away the Witches, there is their Mittimus, carry 'em all to Lancaster. Witches. I am Innocent, I am Innocent.
Come on you Hags, now your Master the Devil has left you.
Sir you must excuse me, I must give you the Oathes upon this Information.
And by my shoule Joy, I will taak dem and twenty or thirty more Oades if dou dosht please indeed, I vill take 'em all to serve dee, Fait and Trot.
Come into the Hall, there's the Statute Book.
I will go in and see if the Brides be Ready.
Gentlemen, This day I am to do the great Duty of a Father in provi∣ding for the Settlement of my Children; this day we will dedicate to Mirth, I hope you will partake with me in my Joy.
I should have had a greater share in any Joy that could affect so worthy a man, had not your Daughter been the only Person, I ever saw, whom I could have fixt my love upon; but I am unhappy that I had not the honour to know you till it was to late.
This had been a great honour to me, and my Daughter, and I am sorry I did not know it sooner, and assure you it is some trouble upon me.
How like a Gentleman he takes it, but I have an Ass, Nay two, to deal with.
Good morrow Brother, our brace of Brides are ready, where are the lusty Bridegrooms?
Heav'n grant this may prove a happy day.
Mr. Doubty, was ever such an unlucky Night as we have had.
'Tis happy to me who was assur'd of the love of one, I love much more than all the Joys on Earth.
Now you make me blush, I swear it is a little too much.
Ladies, I wish you much joy of this day.
Much happiness to you.
Brother, good morrow to you; This is a happy day, our families will soon be one: I have sent all the Witches to the Goal.
Had you Evidence enough?
Ay, too much; this Gentleman was accused for being a Papist and a Priest, and I have given him the Oathes, and my Certificate, and on my Conscience he is a very good Protestant.
It is no matter, I did taak de Oades, and I am a very good Protestant upon occasion, Fait.
Say you so? between you and I, how many Sacraments are there?
How many? by my shoule dere are sheven; how many would would dere be •ink Page 73 you Hob? •y my shoule I have a dispensaation, indeed I am t•o 〈◊〉 for 'em fait I am.
So here are the Bridegrooms.
Oh my Dear pretty Bride, let me kiss thy hand, how joyful am I, that I shall have my Dear within these arms! ah! now the little Rogue can smile upon me.
Cousin good morrow to you, I am glad to see you, how do you do this Morning?
God be thanked, I am very glad on't.
Is not the Parson come yet?
Yes Sir, he is very busy at his Breakfast in the buttery: And as soon as he has finisht his Pipe and his Tankard—he will wait on you: he has Marry'd one Cupple already, The Chaplin and Mrs. Susan.
I am sorry for't, that Chaplin is a Rascal—I have found him out, and will turn him away—
Sir, here are some of your Tennants and Country men come to be merry with you, and have brought their Piper and desire to daunce before you.
We are come to wish your Worship, my Young Master and Lady Joy of this happy day.
You are kindly welcom Neighbours, this is happiness indeed, to see my Friends, and all my loving Neighbours thus about me.
Heavens bless your good Worship.
These honest men are the strength and sinnews of our Country; such men as these are uncorrupted, and while they stand to us we fear no Papists, nor French invasion; this day we will be merry together.
Ayst make bold to Daunce for joy.
Hold, there needs no Parson.
What say you?
We are Marry'd already, and desire your blessing.
It is impossible.
Heav'n! what's this I see?
Theives! Robbers! Murderers of my honour, I'le hang that Fellow.
What pageantry is this? explain your self.
What a Devil do they mean now!
The truth is Sir, we are Marry'd; we found you Fathers were too far ingag'd to break off: I 〈◊〉 forced us to this way, and nothing else can be a fit excuse.
We have designed this ever since last Summer, and any other but a private way, had certainly prevented it. Let excess of love excuse our fault, Sir Ieffery, I will exceed what s•tlement was made upon your Daughter.
An! I will, Sir, do the same Right to yours.
Flesh and Heart—I'le Murder her.
Hold Sir, she is mine now; I beseech you moderate your passion.
Oh vile Creature; I'le tear her Eyes out.
Forbear good Madam: What cannot be redrest must be past by—
Thou worst of Theives, thou knowest I can ne're pass it by.
Sir Edward, you may do what you will, but I'le go in and meditat• revenge.
Hold, hold me, I am bloody minded, and shall commit Murder else; my honour, my honour, I must kill him, hold me fast, or I shall kill him.
For my part Cousin, I wish you Joy, for I am resolved to hunt and hawk, and course as long as I live—
Cruel Woman, I did not think you would have serv'd me so; I shall •un mad, and hang my self an• walk.
Now phaar is de soleedity of all dish—phy all ish paasht▪ and what vil you say now? You must taak shome Consolaation unto you—Dou must Fornicaate vid dy Moders Maid sharvants; and daat is all one by my shoule.
Hold, Gentlemen, who Marry'd you?
This Gentleman, who is under his gray Coat, my Parson.
'Tis something unhospitable.
I hope Sir, you'l not have cause to repent it; had there been any other way for me to have escap't perpetual misery, I had not taken this.
But you Sir have most Iniurd me.
I beg a thousand pardons, Tho' I must have perisht if I had not done it.
It is no injury Sir, I never could have lov'd your Son; we must have been unhappy.
And I had been miserable with Sir Timothy.
To say truth, I did not much care for her neither, I had rather not marry.
Eternal Blockhead! I will have other means to preserve my Name: Gentlemen, your are men of ample Fortunes and worthy Families—Sir I wish you happiness with my Daughter, take her.
You have given me more than my own Father did, then life and fortune.
You are the best of Fathers and of men.
I will endeavour to appease Sir Ieffery and my Lady.
Your are Generous beyond expression Sir.
Sir, I hope your Worship will pardon me, I am Marry'd to Mrs. Susan.
You are a Villain, that has made love to my Daughter, and corrupted my Son.
Have they told all, I am ruin'd? good Sir, continue me your Chaplin, and I will Do and Preach whatever you command me.
I'le not have a Divine with so flexible a Conscience, there shall be no such Vipers in my Family; I will take care you never shall have Orders. But she has serv'd me well, and I will give her a Farm of 40. l. per annum to Plow: Go Sir, it was an Office you were born to.
Did I not bid de Fornicaate? and dou didst Marry Joy; if dou hadst not maade Marriage, I vould have maade dee a Catholick, and preferred dee to Saint Omers, Dey should have bred dee for one of deir Witnesses fait.
I must beg your pardon Sir, I have a warrant against this Kelly, Alias Tegue O Devilly—he is accus'd for being in the Plot.
My house is no refuge for Traytors Sir.
Aboo, boo, boo! by my shalvaation dere is no Plot, and I vill not go vid you. Dou art a damn'd Fanaatick, if dou dosht shay dere is a Plot. Dou art a Presbiterian Dogg.
No striving, come a long with me.
Phaat vil I do: I am Innocent as de Child dat is to be Born; and if they vill•hang me, I vill be a shaint indeed. My hanging Speech was made for me, long a go by de Iesuits, and I have it ready, and I vill live and dy by it, by my shoule.
Gentlemen, I charge you in the Kings Name assist me.