Belphegor, or, The marriage of the Devil a tragi-comedy, lately acted at the Queen's Theatre in Dorset-garden / by Mr. Wilson.

SCENE V.

Enter Mattheo, Roderigo (as in a Vineyard). Mattheo a Spade in his hand.

Mat.

I Have heard of your Quality, and great Losses—But your Wife say you? Alas, poor Gentleman!—I lost mine about a month since, and tho' I have no great reason to brag, find a miss of her.

Rod.

I'll change with ye; my living Wife, for your dead Wife.

Mat.

Not too much of that neither—I had, had one before; and she was well enough.—But this last!—such a—I'll tread lightly on her Grave, for fear she 'wake.

Rod.

And what difference found ye' between a good Wife, and a bad one.

Mat.

I said not, she was good, but well enough—tho' I think the difference be much the same, as between a wild Rabbet and a tame Rab∣bet. —However, at last, I found the way of beating the Devil out of mine.

Rod.

And I should ha' thought, there was more danger of beating him in.—But, Sir, you don't consider the Catch-poles; they fol∣low

upon a fresh scent; do but preserve me from 'em, I'll make ye a man for ever.

Mat.

Nor shall you repent the putting your self under my Protecti∣on —Look ye Sir—

[He takes him to the Scenes.]

you see those parings of Vines, creep under them, and I'll cover ye up.—

Rod. creeps, Mat. covers him.]

When they are gone, I'll give you notice.—A hand∣some Fellow, and wears good Clothes.—If it miscarry, I have lit∣tle to lose; and if it succeed, I'm made for ever.

Enter Officers, they beat about.

—Pray Gentlemen don't trample my Vines—Who are ye?

1 Off.

We are the States Officers, in quest of a Gentleman we are sure took this Road.

2 Off.

And cannot be far behind him.—At your Peril be it, if you conceal him.

Mat.

My House is open to ye.

[Third Officer enters, Mat. digs.

1 Off.

Pr'y thee be honest to us, and thou shalt snack.

2 Off.

We can afford him Forty Duckats—and that's more than thou'lt get in haste by diging.

Mat.

Forty Duckats Gentlemen, wou'd to me a kindness.

1 Off.

And if we take him I'll be thy Pay-master—I'm sure thou knowest me—and I'll be true to thee.

[He gives his Hand.

Mat.

Signior Bricone, if I mistake not.

1 Off.

Thou hast me right—and therefore doubt not thy money.

Mat.

Well then—he is

[Mat. describes Rod: Person and Clothes.

2 Off.

The same—And if he's about thy House, shew him us, and here's thy money down.

[He pulls out a Bag.

Third Officer returns.

3 Off.

There's nothing within.

Mat.

I rather wish he were—But d'ye see that blind side Road, on the left hand of my Vineyard, as ye came.

1 Off.

And were I to have fled for my Life, I'd have taken't my self.

Mat.

There did I see such a Person, and one other with him, ride by, about an hour since.—And now I better consider on't—he was the great Merchant, that lost some Ships t'other day.

Omnes.

The same, the same—To Horse, to Horse.

Mat.

Ride hard, and ye can't but overtake him.

[Exeunt Off. running.

—They're gone, and Roderigo's Wishes follow 'em.—He told me, he'd make me a man for ever, and (I hope) he'll be as good as his word, and not lick himself whole agen, by non-performance.—Hoe Signior! the Coast is clear, you may advance.

Enter Roderigo stalking, and looking about him.

Rod.

I fansie I hear them still—Hark! what was that?

Mat.

Nothing but the Wind among the Leaves.—I have per∣form'd

form'd my promise, and you're safe: Tho' (if you over-heard us, as you needs must) to my disadvantage.

Rod.

I did, and doubly thank you, nor shall it ever be said, that I forgot mine.—But first, 'tis requisite, that you understand my Con∣dition —Know then, I am not what I appear to you—but in few words—a very Devil.

Mat.

A Devil!

[Mat. starts.]

and afraid of Bailiffs!

Rod.

Yet so it is—I was sent to Earth by special Command, subject nevertheless to all the Conditions of Humanity; but more particularly oblig'd to marry a Wife.

Mat.

Keep your Wife to your self, I have no mind to Cuckold the Devil.

Rod.

And now, what with her insulting peevish Humour, my Losses at Sea, my Correspondence failing, and Creditors pressing, you see to what Condition I'm brought.

Mat.

Is't come to this!—The Sham wo'n't pass on me—Come, come—uncase—

[Mat. goes about to strip him.]

A man for ever!—A Devil wou'd ha'been more honest.

Rod.

Have but a minutes patience, and if I don't convince you of what I told ye, and you don't find me the most ingenuous, grateful, and as Gentleman-like a Devil, as you could wish, I am contented you deliver me up to my Creditors.—And, without your consent, part from ye I will not.

Mat.

'Tis Civil tho'.

[Rod. gives a stamp.

Rod.

Hoe! Sacrapant, Adrameleck,

[Musick is heard, Spirits rise; they Dance an Antick about Mat. and Exeunt. Mat. all the while trembling.

Paganuccio, Fortibrand!—Fear nothing, they sha'n't hurt ye.

Mat.

Fear nothing said ye?—I'm not yet secure, but my Soul may slip out at the wrong end.

Rod.

I've shewn you what I am; and now consider, what Devil of a Thousand would not such Circumstances have try'd?—But to my promise—

[A noise within. He starts.]

Huisht, huisht—my Wife—that Wife, whom now I dread, more than ere I doated on her.

Mat.

A Tittle tattle of mine; I know her Voice.

Rod.

My promise, I was saying—you know the Lady Ambrosia?

Mat.

And what of her?—She's rich—And do you but make a match for me there, I'll release you your promise.

Rod.

I am no go-between; but this I'll do—as soon as I leave this place, I'll instantly possess her; and, on the Faith of an oblig'd Devil, will never leave her, till you come and force me from my Quarters.—And so, you know how, to make the Terms.

Mat.

But which way must I go about it?

Rod.

Sputter any thing, and that shall do't—And besides, good brisk Nonsence, with a little Balderdash, and the Gravity of a gradu∣ated Goose, to set it off, will give ye the Vogue, among the greater

number; who, like Socrates's Children, take more after the Mother than the Father.

Mat.

My Noble Patron, I see you are in earnest; and, because you and I must be better acquainted, your Name (I beseech ye) and Qua∣lity in the other World?

Rod.

Belphegor; Generalissimo of the Subterranean Forces: But this Con∣dition of Humanity, has so discompos'd me, that I'm asham'd to own what I was.

Mat.

Generalissimo! a Friend at Court, may (if he please) stand a man in stead.—But pray, Sir, what do ye do below?

Rod.

Much after the rate ye do here; ever speaking well of our selves, and ill of others.—And for Friendship, as we profess not much, for what we do, we observe it as little as your selves.

Mat.

A wise People!—But how do men get thither? Have ye no Standing-Porters to attend the Service.

Rod.

By no means—No man comes thither but of himself, or his Wife's sending.—I wo'n't deny, but when a Devil meets a man with his Skates on, he may give him a push forward.—But I'm uneasie.

[He looks over his Shoulders.

Mat.

There's no danger.—What kind of People are ye?

Rod.

A Hotch-potch of all Tongues, Nations, and Languages: We speak the Lingua Franca, keep open House, and never shut our Gates to any, that had either Wit or Money; and that's the reason we have so many Wits and Usurers among us.

Mat.

And no Women?—For notwithstanding all, I am no profest Enemy to the Sex.

Rod.

They're the best Customers we have; they seldom come alone, with their own Lading—Some bring more, some less; not one in ten without a Liver and a Gizard; two Friends, at least, besides Followers.

Mat.

But have ye no Divines, Physicians, Lawyers?—What have ye?

Rod.

Of that, when we meet next.

Mat.

And you'll forget—you will.

Rod.

Upon Parole, I wo'n't—

[They shake hands.]

With this fur∣ther —when ever you hear of any Lady possest, be sure it is your Hum∣ble Servant, and no other.

[Exeunt severally.