Montr. Burnt? Soldiers, bind him.
Tortures shall wring both hat and purse from you.
Villain, I’ll be revenged for that base scorn
Thy hell-hound brother clapped upon my head.
Tortures shall wring both hat and purse from you.
Villain, I’ll be revenged for that base scorn
Thy hell-hound brother clapped upon my head.
Longa. And so will Longaville.
Away with him!
Away with him!
Montr. Drag him to yonder tower, there shackle him,
And in a pair of stocks lock up his heels,
And bid your wishing cap deliver you.
Give us the purse and hat, we’ll set thee free,
Else rot to death and starve.
And in a pair of stocks lock up his heels,
And bid your wishing cap deliver you.
Give us the purse and hat, we’ll set thee free,
Else rot to death and starve.
Amp. Oh tyranny, you need not scorn the badge which you did bear:
Beasts would you be, though horns you did not wear.
Beasts would you be, though horns you did not wear.
Montr. Drag hence the cur: come, noble Longaville,
One’s sure, and were the other fiend as fast,
Their pride should cost their lives: their purse and hat
Shall both be ours, we’ll share them equally.
One’s sure, and were the other fiend as fast,
Their pride should cost their lives: their purse and hat
Shall both be ours, we’ll share them equally.
Longa. That will be some amends for arming me.
Enter Andelocia, and Shadow after him.
Montr. Peace, Longaville, yonder the gallant comes.
Longa. Y’are well encountered.
Andel. Thanks, Lord Longaville.
Longa. The king expects your presence at the court.
Andel. And thither am I going.
Shad. Pips fine, fine apples of Tamasco, ha, ha, ha!
Montr. Wert thou that Irishman that cozened us?
Shad. Pips fine, ha, ha, ha! no not I: not Shadow.
Andel. Were not your apples delicate and rare?
Longa. The worst that e’er you sold; sirs, bind him fast.
Andel. What, will you murder me? help, help, some help!
Shad. Help, help, help! [Exit Shadow.
Montr. Follow that dog, and stop his bawling throat.
Andel. Villains, what means this barbarous treachery?
Longa. We mean to be revenged for our disgrace.
Montr. And stop the golden current of thy waste.
Andel. Murder! they murder me, O call for help.
Longa. Thy voice is spent in vain; come, come, this purse,
This well-spring of your prodigality.
This well-spring of your prodigality.
Andel. Are you appointed by the king to this?
Montr. No, no; rise, spurn him up! know you who’s this?
Andel. My brother Ampedo? Alas, what fate
Hath made thy virtues so unfortunate?
Hath made thy virtues so unfortunate?
Amp. Thy riot and the wrong of these two lords,
Who causeless thus do starve[408] me in this prison.
Who causeless thus do starve[408] me in this prison.
Longa. Strive not y’are best, villains, lift in his legs.
Andel. Traitors to honour, what do you intend?
Longa. That riot shall in wretchedness have end.
Question thy brother with what cost he’s fed,
And so assure thou shall be banqueted. [Exeunt Longaville and Montrose.
Question thy brother with what cost he’s fed,
And so assure thou shall be banqueted. [Exeunt Longaville and Montrose.
Amp. In want, in misery, in woe and care,
Poor Ampedo his fill hath surfeited:
My want is famine, bolts my misery,
My care and woe should be thy portion.
Poor Ampedo his fill hath surfeited:
My want is famine, bolts my misery,
My care and woe should be thy portion.
Andel. Give me that portion, for I have a heart
Shall spend it freely, and make bankrupt
The proudest woe that ever wet man’s eyes.
Care, with a mischief! wherefore should I care?
Have I rid side by side by mighty kings,
Yet be thus bridled now? I’ll tear these fetters,
Murder! cry, murder! Ampedo, aloud.
To bear this scorn our fortunes are too proud.
Shall spend it freely, and make bankrupt
The proudest woe that ever wet man’s eyes.
Care, with a mischief! wherefore should I care?
Have I rid side by side by mighty kings,
Yet be thus bridled now? I’ll tear these fetters,
Murder! cry, murder! Ampedo, aloud.
To bear this scorn our fortunes are too proud.
Amp. O folly, thou hast power to make flesh glad,
When the rich soul in wretchedness is clad.
When the rich soul in wretchedness is clad.
Andel. Peace, fool, am I not Fortune’s minion?
These bands are but one wrinkle of her frown,
This is her evening mask, her next morn’s eye
Shall overshine the sun in majesty.
These bands are but one wrinkle of her frown,
This is her evening mask, her next morn’s eye
Shall overshine the sun in majesty.
Amp. But this sad night will make an end of me.
Brother, farewell; grief, famine, sorrow, want,
Have made an end of wretched Ampedo.
Brother, farewell; grief, famine, sorrow, want,
Have made an end of wretched Ampedo.
Andel. Where is the wishing hat?
Amp. Consumed in fire.
Andel. Accursèd be those hands that did destroy it;
That would redeem us, did we now enjoy it.
That would redeem us, did we now enjoy it.
Amp. Wanton, farewell! I faint, Death’s frozen hand
Congeals life’s little river in my breast.
No man before his end is truly blest. [Dies.
Congeals life’s little river in my breast.
No man before his end is truly blest. [Dies.
Andel. O miserable, miserable soul!
Thus a foul life makes death to look more foul.
Thus a foul life makes death to look more foul.
Re-enter Longaville and Montrose with a halter.
Longa. Thus shall this golden purse divided be,
One day for you, another day for me.
One day for you, another day for me.
Montr. Of days anon, say, what determine you,
Shall they have liberty, or shall they die?
Shall they have liberty, or shall they die?
Longa. Die sure: and see, I think the elder’s dead.
Andel. Ay, murderers, he is dead. O sacred Wisdom,
Had Fortunatus been enamourèd
Of thy celestial beauty, his two sons
Had shined like two bright suns.
Had Fortunatus been enamourèd
Of thy celestial beauty, his two sons
Had shined like two bright suns.
Longa. Pull hard, Montrose.
Andel. Come you to strangle me? are you the hangman?
Hell-hounds, y’are damned for this impiety.
Fortune, forgive me! I deserve thy hate;
Myself have made myself a reprobate.
Virtue, forgive me! for I have transgressed
Against thy laws; my vows are quite forgot,
And therefore shame is fallen to my sin’s lot.
Riches and knowledge are two gifts divine.
They that abuse them both as I have done,
To shame, to beggary, to hell must run.
O conscience, hold thy sting, cease to afflict me.
Be quick, tormentors, I desire to die;
No death is equal to my misery.
Cyprus, vain world and vanity, farewell.
Who builds his Heaven on earth, is sure of hell. [Dies.
Hell-hounds, y’are damned for this impiety.
Fortune, forgive me! I deserve thy hate;
Myself have made myself a reprobate.
Virtue, forgive me! for I have transgressed
Against thy laws; my vows are quite forgot,
And therefore shame is fallen to my sin’s lot.
Riches and knowledge are two gifts divine.
They that abuse them both as I have done,
To shame, to beggary, to hell must run.
O conscience, hold thy sting, cease to afflict me.
Be quick, tormentors, I desire to die;
No death is equal to my misery.
Cyprus, vain world and vanity, farewell.
Who builds his Heaven on earth, is sure of hell. [Dies.
Longa. He’s dead: in some deep vault let’s throw their bodies.
Montr. First let us see the purse, Lord Longaville.
Longa. Here ’tis, by this we’ll fill this tower with gold.
Montr. Frenchman, this purse is counterfeit.
Longa. Thou liest.
Scot, thou hast cozened me, give me the right,
Else shall thy bosom be my weapon’s grave.
Scot, thou hast cozened me, give me the right,
Else shall thy bosom be my weapon’s grave.
Montr. Villain, thou shalt not rob me of my due. [They fight.
Enter Athelstane, Agripyne, Orleans, Galloway, Cornwall, Chester, Lincoln, and Shadow with weapons at one door: Fortune, Vice, and their Attendants at the other.
Fortune. Surrender up this purse, for this is mine.
All. Are these two devils, or some powers divine?
Shad. O see, see, O my two masters, poor Shadow’s substances; what shall I do? Whose body shall Shadow now follow?
Fortune. Peace, idiot, thou shalt find rich heaps of fools,
That will be proud to entertain a shadow.
I charm thy babbling lips from troubling me.
You need not hold them, see, I smite them down
Lower than hell: base souls, sink to your heaven.
That will be proud to entertain a shadow.
I charm thy babbling lips from troubling me.
You need not hold them, see, I smite them down
Lower than hell: base souls, sink to your heaven.
Vice. I do arrest you both my prisoners.
Fortune. Stand not amazed, you gods of earth, at this,
She that arresteth these two fools is Vice,
They have broke Virtue’s laws, Vice is her sergeant,
Her jailer and her executioner.
Look on those Cypriots, Fortunatus’ sons,
They and their father were my minions,
My name is Fortune.
She that arresteth these two fools is Vice,
They have broke Virtue’s laws, Vice is her sergeant,
Her jailer and her executioner.
Look on those Cypriots, Fortunatus’ sons,
They and their father were my minions,
My name is Fortune.
All. O dread deity!
Fortune. Kneel not to me: if Fortune list to frown,
You need not fall down, for she’ll spurn you down;
Arise! but, fools, on you I’ll triumph thus:
What have you gained by being covetous?
This prodigal purse did Fortune’s bounteous hand
Bestow on them, their riots made them poor,
And set these marks of miserable death
On all their pride, the famine of base gold
Hath made your souls to murder’s hands be sold,
Only to be called rich. But, idiots, see
The virtues to be fled, Fortune hath caused it so;
Those that will all devour, must all forego.
You need not fall down, for she’ll spurn you down;
Arise! but, fools, on you I’ll triumph thus:
What have you gained by being covetous?
This prodigal purse did Fortune’s bounteous hand
Bestow on them, their riots made them poor,
And set these marks of miserable death
On all their pride, the famine of base gold
Hath made your souls to murder’s hands be sold,
Only to be called rich. But, idiots, see
The virtues to be fled, Fortune hath caused it so;
Those that will all devour, must all forego.
Athelst. Most sacred Goddess!
Fortune. Peace, you flatterer.
Thy tongue but heaps more vengeance on thy head.
Fortune is angry with thee, in thee burns
A greedy covetous fire, in Agripyne
Pride like a monarch revels, and those sins
Have led you blind-fold to your former shames,
But Virtue pardoned you, and so doth Fortune.
Thy tongue but heaps more vengeance on thy head.
Fortune is angry with thee, in thee burns
A greedy covetous fire, in Agripyne
Pride like a monarch revels, and those sins
Have led you blind-fold to your former shames,
But Virtue pardoned you, and so doth Fortune.
Athelst. and Agrip. All thanks to both your sacred deities.
Fortune. As for these metal-eaters, these base thieves,
Who rather than they would be counted poor,
Will dig through hell for gold,—you were forgiven
By Virtue’s general pardon; her broad seal
Gave you your lives, when she took off your horns.
Yet having scarce one foot out of the jail,
You tempt damnation by more desperate means,
You both are mortal, and your pains shall ring
Through both your ears, to terrify your souls,
As please the judgment of this mortal king.
Who rather than they would be counted poor,
Will dig through hell for gold,—you were forgiven
By Virtue’s general pardon; her broad seal
Gave you your lives, when she took off your horns.
Yet having scarce one foot out of the jail,
You tempt damnation by more desperate means,
You both are mortal, and your pains shall ring
Through both your ears, to terrify your souls,
As please the judgment of this mortal king.
Athelst. Fair Empress of the world, since you resign
Your power to me, this sentence shall be mine:
Thou shall be tortured on a wheel to death,
Thou with wild horses shall be quarterèd. [Points to Montrose and Longaville.
Your power to me, this sentence shall be mine:
Thou shall be tortured on a wheel to death,
Thou with wild horses shall be quarterèd. [Points to Montrose and Longaville.
Vice. Ha, ha, weak judge, weak judgment; I reverse
That sentence, for they are my prisoners.
Embalm the bodies of those Cypriots,
And honour them with princely burial.
For those do as you please; but for these two,
I kiss you both, I love you, y’are my minions.
Untie their bands, Vice doth reprieve you both.
I set you free.
That sentence, for they are my prisoners.
Embalm the bodies of those Cypriots,
And honour them with princely burial.
For those do as you please; but for these two,
I kiss you both, I love you, y’are my minions.
Untie their bands, Vice doth reprieve you both.
I set you free.
Both. Thanks, gracious deity.
Vice. Begone, but you in liberty shall find
More bondage than in chains; fools, get you hence,
Both wander with tormented conscience.
More bondage than in chains; fools, get you hence,
Both wander with tormented conscience.
Longa. O horrid judgment, that’s the hell indeed.
Montr. Come, come, our death ne’er ends if conscience bleed.
Fortune. Fortune triumphs at this, yet to appear
All like myself, that which from those I took,
King Athelstane, I will bestow on thee,
And in it the old virtue I infuse:
But, king, take heed how thou my gifts dost use.
England shall ne’er be poor, if England strive
Rather by virtue than by wealth to thrive.
All like myself, that which from those I took,
King Athelstane, I will bestow on thee,
And in it the old virtue I infuse:
But, king, take heed how thou my gifts dost use.
England shall ne’er be poor, if England strive
Rather by virtue than by wealth to thrive.
Enter Virtue, crowned: Nymphs and Kings attending on her, crowned with olive branches and laurels; music sounding.
Vice. Virtue? alas good soul, she hides her head.
Virtue. What envious tongue said, “Virtue hides her head?”
Vice. She that will drive thee into banishment.
Fortune. She that hath conquered thee: how dar’st thou come,
Thus tricked in gaudy feathers, and thus guarded
With crownèd kings and Muses, when thy foe
Hath trod thus on thee, and now triumphs so?
Where’s virtuous Ampedo? See, he’s her slave;
For following thee, this recompense they have.
Thus tricked in gaudy feathers, and thus guarded
With crownèd kings and Muses, when thy foe
Hath trod thus on thee, and now triumphs so?
Where’s virtuous Ampedo? See, he’s her slave;
For following thee, this recompense they have.
Virtue. Is Ampedo her slave? Why, that’s my glory.
The idiot’s cap I once wore on my head,
Did figure him; those that like him do muffle
Virtue in clouds, and care not how she shine,
I’ll make their glory like to his decline.
He made no use of me, but like a miser,
Locked up his wealth in rusty bars of sloth;
His face was beautiful, but wore a mask,
And in the world’s eyes seemed a blackamoor:
So perish they that so keep Virtue poor.
The idiot’s cap I once wore on my head,
Did figure him; those that like him do muffle
Virtue in clouds, and care not how she shine,
I’ll make their glory like to his decline.
He made no use of me, but like a miser,
Locked up his wealth in rusty bars of sloth;
His face was beautiful, but wore a mask,
And in the world’s eyes seemed a blackamoor:
So perish they that so keep Virtue poor.
Vice. Thou art a fool to strive, I am more strong,
And greater than thyself; then, Virtue, fly,
And hide thy face, yield me the victory.
And greater than thyself; then, Virtue, fly,
And hide thy face, yield me the victory.
Virtue. Is Vice higher than Virtue? that’s my glory,
The higher that thou art, thou art more horrid:
The world will love me for my comeliness.
The higher that thou art, thou art more horrid:
The world will love me for my comeliness.
Fortune. Thine own self loves thyself: why on the heads
Of Agripyne, Montrose, and Longaville,—
English, Scot, French—did Vice clap ugly horns,
But to approve that English, French and Scot,
And all the world else, kneel and honour Vice;
But in no country, Virtue is of price!
Of Agripyne, Montrose, and Longaville,—
English, Scot, French—did Vice clap ugly horns,
But to approve that English, French and Scot,
And all the world else, kneel and honour Vice;
But in no country, Virtue is of price!
Virtue. Yes, in all countries Virtue is of price,
In every kingdom some diviner breast
Is more enamoured of me than the rest.
Have English, Scot and French bowed knees to thee?
Why that’s my glory too, for by their shame,
Men will abhor thee and adore my name.
Fortune, thou art too weak, Vice, th’art a fool
To fight with me; I suffered you awhile
T’eclipse my brightness, but I now will shine,
And make you swear your beauty’s base to mine.
In every kingdom some diviner breast
Is more enamoured of me than the rest.
Have English, Scot and French bowed knees to thee?
Why that’s my glory too, for by their shame,
Men will abhor thee and adore my name.
Fortune, thou art too weak, Vice, th’art a fool
To fight with me; I suffered you awhile
T’eclipse my brightness, but I now will shine,
And make you swear your beauty’s base to mine.
Fortune. Thou art too insolent; see, here’s a court
Of mortal judges; let’s by them be tried,
Which of us three shall most be deified.
Of mortal judges; let’s by them be tried,
Which of us three shall most be deified.
Vice. I am content.
Fortune. And I.
Virtue. So am not I.
My judge shall be your sacred deity.[409]
My judge shall be your sacred deity.[409]
Vice. O miserable me, I am undone. [Exit Vice and her train.
All. O stop the horrid monster.
Virtue. Let her run.
Fortune, who conquers now?
Fortune, who conquers now?
Fortune. Virtue, I see,
Thou wilt triumph both over her and me.
Thou wilt triumph both over her and me.
Fortune. Why do you mock me?
Kneel not to me, to her transfer your eyes,
There sits the Queen of Chance, I bend my knees
Lower than yours. Dread goddess, ’tis most meet
That Fortune fall down at thy conquering feet.
Thou sacred Empress that command’st the Fates,
Forgive what I have to thy handmaid done,
And at thy chariot wheels Fortune shall run,
And be thy captive, and to thee resign
All powers which Heaven’s large patent have made mine.
Kneel not to me, to her transfer your eyes,
There sits the Queen of Chance, I bend my knees
Lower than yours. Dread goddess, ’tis most meet
That Fortune fall down at thy conquering feet.
Thou sacred Empress that command’st the Fates,
Forgive what I have to thy handmaid done,
And at thy chariot wheels Fortune shall run,
And be thy captive, and to thee resign
All powers which Heaven’s large patent have made mine.
Virtue. Fortune, th’art vanquished. Sacred deity,
O now pronounce who wins the victory,
And yet that sentence needs not, since alone,
Your virtuous presence Vice hath overthrown,
Yet to confirm the conquest on your side,
Look but on Fortunatus and his sons;
Of all the wealth those gallants did possess,
Only poor Shadow is left, comfortless:
Their glory’s faded and their golden pride.
O now pronounce who wins the victory,
And yet that sentence needs not, since alone,
Your virtuous presence Vice hath overthrown,
Yet to confirm the conquest on your side,
Look but on Fortunatus and his sons;
Of all the wealth those gallants did possess,
Only poor Shadow is left, comfortless:
Their glory’s faded and their golden pride.
Shad. Only poor Shadow tells how poor they died.
Virtue. All that they had, or mortal men can have,
Sends only but a Shadow from the grave.
Virtue alone lives still, and lives in you;
I am a counterfeit, you are the true;
I am a shadow, at your feet I fall,
Begging for these, and these, myself and all.
All these that thus do kneel before your eyes,
Are shadows like myself: dread nymph, it lies
In you to make us substances. O do it!
Virtue I am sure you love, she wooes you to it.
I read a verdict in your sun-like eyes,
And this it is: Virtue the victory.
Sends only but a Shadow from the grave.
Virtue alone lives still, and lives in you;
I am a counterfeit, you are the true;
I am a shadow, at your feet I fall,
Begging for these, and these, myself and all.
All these that thus do kneel before your eyes,
Are shadows like myself: dread nymph, it lies
In you to make us substances. O do it!
Virtue I am sure you love, she wooes you to it.
I read a verdict in your sun-like eyes,
And this it is: Virtue the victory.
All. All loudly cry, Virtue the victory!
Fortune. Virtue the victory! for joy of this,
Those self-same hymns which you to Fortune sung
Let them be now in Virtue’s honour rung.
Those self-same hymns which you to Fortune sung
Let them be now in Virtue’s honour rung.
Song.
Virtue smiles: cry holiday,
Dimples on her cheeks do dwell,
Virtue frowns, cry welladay,
Her love is Heaven, her hate is hell.
Since Heaven and hell obey her power,
Tremble when her eyes do lower.
Since Heaven and hell her power obey,
Where she smiles, cry holiday.
Dimples on her cheeks do dwell,
Virtue frowns, cry welladay,
Her love is Heaven, her hate is hell.
Since Heaven and hell obey her power,
Tremble when her eyes do lower.
Since Heaven and hell her power obey,
Where she smiles, cry holiday.
Holiday with joy we cry,
And bend, and bend, and merrily,
Sing hymns to Virtue’s deity:
Sing hymns to Virtue’s deity.
And bend, and bend, and merrily,
Sing hymns to Virtue’s deity:
Sing hymns to Virtue’s deity.
As they are about to depart, enter Two Old Men.
THE EPILOGUE AT COURT.[410]
1st O. Man. Nay stay, poor pilgrims, when I entered first
The circle of this bright celestial sphere,
I wept for joy, now I could weep for fear.
The circle of this bright celestial sphere,
I wept for joy, now I could weep for fear.
2nd O. Man. I fear we all like mortal men shall prove
Weak, not in love, but in expressing love.
Weak, not in love, but in expressing love.
1st O. Man. Let every one beg once more on his knee,
One pardon for himself, and one for me;
For I enticed you hither. O dear Goddess,
Breathe life in our numbed spirits with one smile,
And from this cold earth, we with lively souls,
Shall rise like men new-born, and make Heaven sound
With hymns sung to thy name, and prayers that we
May once a year so oft enjoy this sight,
Till these young boys change their curled locks to white,
And when gray-wingèd age sits on their heads,
That so their children may supply their steads,
And that Heaven’s great arithmetician,
Who in the scales of number weighs the world,
May still to forty-two add one year more,
And still add one to one, that went before,
And multiply four tens by many a ten:
To this I cry, Amen.
One pardon for himself, and one for me;
For I enticed you hither. O dear Goddess,
Breathe life in our numbed spirits with one smile,
And from this cold earth, we with lively souls,
Shall rise like men new-born, and make Heaven sound
With hymns sung to thy name, and prayers that we
May once a year so oft enjoy this sight,
Till these young boys change their curled locks to white,
And when gray-wingèd age sits on their heads,
That so their children may supply their steads,
And that Heaven’s great arithmetician,
Who in the scales of number weighs the world,
May still to forty-two add one year more,
And still add one to one, that went before,
And multiply four tens by many a ten:
To this I cry, Amen.
All. Amen, amen!
1st O. Man. Good-night, dear mistress, those that wish thee harm,
Thus let them stoop under destruction’s arm.
Thus let them stoop under destruction’s arm.
All. Amen, amen, amen! [Exeunt.
THE WITCH OF EDMONTON.
The Witch of Edmonton, which was probably first performed in 1623, was not published until thirty-five years later, in 1658. It was then issued in the usual quarto form, with the title: The Witch of Edmonton: “A known True Story. Composed into a Tragi-Comedy by divers well-esteemed Poets, William Rowley, Thomas Dekker, John Ford, &c. Acted by the Prince’s Servants, often at the Cock-Pit in Drury-Lane, once at Court, with singular Applause.” The best modern reprint of the play is that in the Gifford-Dyce edition of Ford, upon which the present version is based.
It is impossible to assign the exact share of the various authors in the play. The business of the Witch, the rustic chorus, and certain other parts mark themselves out as mainly Dekker’s. The conception of Sir Arthur Clarington, and the subsidiary domestic plot is no doubt mainly Ford’s. Rowley’s share is more difficult to ascertain. The intimate collaboration of all three can alone be held accountable for some of the scenes, and indeed in even the passages most characteristic of any one of the authors, the touch of another often shows itself in a chance word or phrase.
The justification for the description of the play as “A known true story” is a pamphlet written by Henry Goodcole, and published at London in 1621, giving an account of one Elizabeth Sawyer, late of Islington, who was “executed in 1621 for witchcraft.” See Caulfield’s “Portraits, Memoirs, and Characters of Remarkable Persons,” 1794. No existing copy of the pamphlet is known, but the British Museum possesses copies of two of Goodcole’s other pamphlets on similar subjects.
PROLOGUE.
The town of Edmonton hath lent the stage
A Devil[411] and a Witch, both in an age.
To make comparisons it were uncivil
Between so even a pair, a Witch and Devil;
But as the year doth with his plenty bring
As well a latter as a former spring,
So hath this Witch enjoyed the first, and reason
Presumes she may partake the other season:
In acts deserving name, the proverb says,
“Once good, and ever;” why not so in plays?
Why not in this? since, gentlemen, we flatter
No expectation; here is mirth and matter.
MASTER BIRD.
A Devil[411] and a Witch, both in an age.
To make comparisons it were uncivil
Between so even a pair, a Witch and Devil;
But as the year doth with his plenty bring
As well a latter as a former spring,
So hath this Witch enjoyed the first, and reason
Presumes she may partake the other season:
In acts deserving name, the proverb says,
“Once good, and ever;” why not so in plays?
Why not in this? since, gentlemen, we flatter
No expectation; here is mirth and matter.
The whole argument of the play is this distich.
Forced marriage, murder; murder blood requires:
Reproach, revenge; revenge hell’s help desires.
Reproach, revenge; revenge hell’s help desires.
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.
Sir Arthur Clarington.
Old Thorney, a Gentleman.
Carter, a Rich Yeoman.
Frank, Thorney’s Son.
Old Banks, a Countryman.
Cuddy Banks, his Son.
Morris-dancers.
Sawgut, an old Fiddler.
A Dog, a Familiar.
A Spirit.
Countrymen, Justice, Constable, Officers, Serving-men and Maids.
Mother Sawyer, the Witch.
Ann, Ratcliffe’s Wife.
Winnifred, Sir Arthur’s Maid.
SCENE—The town and neighbourhood of Edmonton; in the
end of the last act, London.
Old Thorney, a Gentleman.
Carter, a Rich Yeoman.
| Warbeck, | } | Suitors To Carter’s Daughters. |
| Somerton, |
Old Banks, a Countryman.
Cuddy Banks, his Son.
| Ratcliffe, | } | Countrymen. |
| Hamluc, |
Sawgut, an old Fiddler.
A Dog, a Familiar.
A Spirit.
Countrymen, Justice, Constable, Officers, Serving-men and Maids.
Mother Sawyer, the Witch.
Ann, Ratcliffe’s Wife.
| Susan, | } | Carter’s Daughters. |
| Katherine, |
SCENE—The town and neighbourhood of Edmonton; in the
end of the last act, London.
THE WITCH OF EDMONTON.
ACT THE FIRST.
SCENE I.—The neighbourhood of Edmonton. A Room in the House of Sir Arthur Clarington.
Enter Frank Thorney and Winnifred, who is with child.
Frank. Come, wench; why, here’s a business soon dispatched:
Thy heart I know is now at ease; thou need’st not
Fear what the tattling gossips in their cups
Can speak against thy fame; thy child shall know
Whom to call dad now.
Thy heart I know is now at ease; thou need’st not
Fear what the tattling gossips in their cups
Can speak against thy fame; thy child shall know
Whom to call dad now.
Win. You have here discharged
The true part of an honest man; I cannot
Request a fuller satisfaction
Than you have freely granted: yet methinks
’Tis an hard case, being lawful man and wife,
We should not live together.
The true part of an honest man; I cannot
Request a fuller satisfaction
Than you have freely granted: yet methinks
’Tis an hard case, being lawful man and wife,
We should not live together.
Frank. Had I failed
In promise of my truth to thee, we must
Have then been ever sundered; now the longest
Of our forbearing either’s company
Is only but to gain a little time
For our continuing thrift; that so hereafter
The heir that shall be born may not have cause
To curse his hour of birth, which made him feel
The misery of beggary and want,—
Two devils that are occasions to enforce
A shameful end. My plots aim but to keep
My father’s love.
In promise of my truth to thee, we must
Have then been ever sundered; now the longest
Of our forbearing either’s company
Is only but to gain a little time
For our continuing thrift; that so hereafter
The heir that shall be born may not have cause
To curse his hour of birth, which made him feel
The misery of beggary and want,—
Two devils that are occasions to enforce
A shameful end. My plots aim but to keep
My father’s love.
Win. And that will be as difficult
To be preserved, when he shall understand
How you are married, as it will be now,
Should you confess it to him.
To be preserved, when he shall understand
How you are married, as it will be now,
Should you confess it to him.
Frank. Fathers are
Won by degrees, not bluntly, as our masters
Or wrongèd friends are; and besides I’ll use
Such dutiful and ready means, that ere
He can have notice of what’s past, th’ inheritance
To which I am born heir shall be assured;
That done, why, let him know it: if he like it not,
Yet he shall have no power in him left
To cross the thriving of it.
Won by degrees, not bluntly, as our masters
Or wrongèd friends are; and besides I’ll use
Such dutiful and ready means, that ere
He can have notice of what’s past, th’ inheritance
To which I am born heir shall be assured;
That done, why, let him know it: if he like it not,
Yet he shall have no power in him left
To cross the thriving of it.
Win. You who had
The conquest of my maiden-love may easily
Conquer the fears of my distrust. And whither
Must I be hurried?
The conquest of my maiden-love may easily
Conquer the fears of my distrust. And whither
Must I be hurried?
Frank. Prithee do not use
A word so much unsuitable to the constant
Affections of thy husband: thou shalt live
Near Waltham Abbey with thy uncle Selman;
I have acquainted him with all at large:
He’ll use thee kindly; thou shalt want no pleasures,
Nor any other fit supplies whatever
Thou canst in heart desire.
A word so much unsuitable to the constant
Affections of thy husband: thou shalt live
Near Waltham Abbey with thy uncle Selman;
I have acquainted him with all at large:
He’ll use thee kindly; thou shalt want no pleasures,
Nor any other fit supplies whatever
Thou canst in heart desire.
Win. All these are nothing
Without your company.
Without your company.
Win. Once every month!
Is this to have an husband?
Is this to have an husband?
Frank. Perhaps oftener;
That’s as occasion serves.
That’s as occasion serves.
Win. Ay, ay; in case
No other beauty tempt your eye, whom you
Like better, I may chance to be remembered,
And see you now and then. Faith, I did hope
You’d not have used me so: ’tis but my fortune.
And yet, if not for my sake, have some pity
Upon the child I go with; that’s your own:
And ’less you’ll be a cruel-hearted father,
You cannot but remember that.
Heaven knows how—
No other beauty tempt your eye, whom you
Like better, I may chance to be remembered,
And see you now and then. Faith, I did hope
You’d not have used me so: ’tis but my fortune.
And yet, if not for my sake, have some pity
Upon the child I go with; that’s your own:
And ’less you’ll be a cruel-hearted father,
You cannot but remember that.
Heaven knows how—
Frank. To quit which fear at once,
As by the ceremony late performed
I plighted thee a faith as free from challenge
As any double thought; once more, in hearing
Of Heaven and thee, I vow that never henceforth
Disgrace, reproof, lawless affections, threats,
Or what can be suggested ’gainst our marriage,
Shall cause me falsify that bridal oath
That binds me thine. And, Winnifred, whenever
The wanton heat of youth, by subtle baits
Of beauty, or what woman’s art can practise,
Draw me from only loving thee, let Heaven
Inflict upon my life some fearful ruin!
I hope thou dost believe me.
As by the ceremony late performed
I plighted thee a faith as free from challenge
As any double thought; once more, in hearing
Of Heaven and thee, I vow that never henceforth
Disgrace, reproof, lawless affections, threats,
Or what can be suggested ’gainst our marriage,
Shall cause me falsify that bridal oath
That binds me thine. And, Winnifred, whenever
The wanton heat of youth, by subtle baits
Of beauty, or what woman’s art can practise,
Draw me from only loving thee, let Heaven
Inflict upon my life some fearful ruin!
I hope thou dost believe me.
Win. Swear no more;
I am confirmed, and will resolve to do
What you think most behoveful for us.
I am confirmed, and will resolve to do
What you think most behoveful for us.
Frank. Thus, then;
Make thyself ready; at the furthest house
Upon the green without the town, your uncle
Expects you. For a little time, farewell!
Make thyself ready; at the furthest house
Upon the green without the town, your uncle
Expects you. For a little time, farewell!
Frank. We shall. One kiss—away! [Exit Winnifred.
Enter Sir Arthur Clarington.
Sir Arth. Frank Thorney!
Frank. Here, sir.
Sir Arth. Alone? then must I tell thee in plain terms
Thou hast wronged thy master’s house basely and lewdly.
Thou hast wronged thy master’s house basely and lewdly.