Tim. Zoors, if I thought so, I’d arrest him for Salt and Battery, lay him in Prison for a swinging Fine, and take no Bail.
Dull. Nay, had it not been before my Mistress here, Mrs. Chrisante, I had swinged him for his Yesterday’s Affront;—ah, my sweet Mistress Chrisante—if you did but know what a power you have over me—
Chris. Oh, you’re a great Courtier, Major.
Dull. Would I were any thing for your sake, Madam.
Ran. Thou art anything, but what thou shouldst be; prithee, Major, leave off being an old Buffoon, that is, a Lover turn’d ridiculous by Age, consider thy self a mere rouling Tun of Nantz,—a walking Chimney, ever smoaking with nasty Mundungus, and then thou hast a Countenance like an old worm-eaten Cheese.
Dull. Well, Widow, you will joke, ha, ha, ha—
Tim. Gad’ Zoors, she’s pure company, ha, ha—
Dull. No matter for my Countenance,—Col. Downright likes my Estate, and is resolved to have it a match.
Friend. Dear Widow, take off your damned Major, for if he speak another word to Chrisante, I shall be put past all my patience, and fall foul upon him.
Ran. S’life, not for the world—Major, I bar Love-making within my Territories, ’tis inconsistent with the Punch-Bowl, if you’l drink, do, if not, be gone.
Tim. Nay, Gad’s Zooks, if you enter me at the Punch-Bowl you enter me in Politicks—well, ’tis the best Drink in Christendom for a Statesman. They drink about, the Bagpipe playing.
Ran. Come, now you shall see what my High-land Valet can do. A Scots Dance.
Dull. So—I see, let the World go which way it will, Widow, you are resolv’d for mirth,—but come—to the conversation of the Times.
Ran. The Times! why, what a Devil ails the Times? I see nothing in the Times but a Company of Coxcombs that fear without a Cause.
Tim. But if these Fears were laid, and Bacon were hanged, I look upon Virginia to be the happiest part of the World, gads zoors,—why, there’s England—’tis nothing to’t,—I was in England about six Years ago, and was shewed the Court of Aldermen, some were nodding, some saying nothing, and others very little to purpose; but how could it be otherwise, for they had neither Bowl of Punch, Bottles of Wine or Tobacco before ’em, to put Life and Soul into ’em as we have here: then for the young Gentlemen—their farthest Travels is to France or Italy, they never come hither.
Dull. The more’s the pity, by my troth. Drinks.
Tim. Where they learn to swear Mor-blew, Mor-dee—
Friend. And tell you how much bigger the Louvre is than Whitehall; buy a suit a-la-mode, get a swinging Clap of some French Marquise, spend all their Money, and return just as they went.
Dull. For the old Fellows, their business is Usury, Extortion, and undermining young Heirs.
Tim. Then for young Merchants, their Exchange is the Tavern, their Ware-house the Play-house, and their Bills of Exchange Billet-Douxs, where to sup with their Wenches at the other end of the Town,—now judge you what a condition poor England is in: for my part I look upon it as a lost Nation, gads zoors.
Dull. I have considered it, and have found a way to save all yet.
Tim. As how, I pray?
Dull. As thus: we have Men here of great Experience and Ability—now I would have as many sent into England, as would supply all Places and Offices, both Civil and Military, d’ye see; their young Gentry should all travel hither for breeding, and to learn the mysteries of State.
Friend. As for the old covetous Fellows, I would have the Tradesmen get in their Debts, break and turn Troopers.
Tim. And they’d be soon weary of Extortion, gad zoors.
Dull. Then for the young Merchants, there should be a Law made, none should go beyond Ludgate.
Friend. You have found out the only way to preserve that great Kingdom. Drinking all this while sometimes.
Tim. Well, gad zoors, ’tis a fine thing to be a good Statesman.
Friend. Ay, Cornet, which you had never been had you staid in Old England.
Dull. Why, Sir, we were somebody in England.
Friend. So I heard, Major.
Dull. You heard, Sir! what have you heard? he’s a Kidnapper that says he heard any thing of me—and so my service to you.—I’ll sue you, Sir, for spoiling my Marriage here by your Scandals with Mrs. Chrisante: but that shan’t do, Sir, I’ll marry her for all that, and he’s a Rascal that denies it.
Friend. S’death, you lye, Sir—I do.
Tim. Gad zoors, Sir, lye to a Privy-Counsellor, a Major of Horse! Brother, this is an Affront to our Dignities: draw and I’ll side with you. They both draw on Friendly, the Ladies run off.
Friend. If I disdain to draw, ’tis not that I fear your base and cowardly Force, but for the respect I bear you as Magistrates, and so I leave you. Goes out.
Tim. An arrant Coward, gad zoors.
Dull. A mere Paultroon, and I scorn to drink in his Company.
Exeunt, putting up their Swords.
Enter Whimsey, Whiff, and Boozer, with some Soldiers arm’d.
Whim. Stand—stand—and hear the word of Command—do ye see yon Cops, and that Ditch that runs along Major Dullman’s Plantation?
Booz. We do.
Whim. Place your Men there, and lie flat on your Bellies, and when Bacon comes, (if alone) seize him, d’ye see.
Whiff. Observe the Command now (if alone) for we are not for blood-shed.
Booz. I’ll warrant you for our parts. Exeunt all but Whim. and Whiff.
Whim. Now we have ambusht our Men, let’s light our Pipes, and sit down and take an encouraging dram of the Bottle. Pulls a Bottle of Brandy out of his Pocket—they sit.
Whiff. Thou art a Knave, and hast emptied half the Bottle in thy Leathern Pockets; but come, here’s young Frightall’s Health.
Whim. What, wilt drink a Man’s Health thou’rt going to hang?
Whiff. ’Tis all one for that, we’ll drink his Health first, and hang him afterwards, and thou shalt pledge me, d’ye see, and though ’twere under the Gallows.
Whim. Thou’rt a Traitor for saying so, and I defy thee.
Whiff. Nay, since we are come out like loving Brothers to hang the General, let’s not fall out among our selves; and so here’s to you, Drinks. though I have no great Maw to this Business.
Whim. Prithee, Brother Whiff, do not be so villainous a Coward, for I hate a Coward.
Whiff. Nay, ’tis not that—but, my Whiff, my Nancy dreamt to night she saw me hanged.
Whim. ’Twas a cowardly Dream, think no more on’t; but as Dreams are expounded by contraries, thou shalt hang the General.
Whiff. Ay—but he was my Friend, and I owe him at this time a hundred Pounds of Tobacco.
Whim. Nay, then I am sure thou’dst hang him if he were thy Brother.
Whiff. But hark—I think I hear the Neighing of Horses, where shall we hide our selves? for if we stay here, we shall be mawled damnably. Exeunt both behind a Bush, peeping.
Enter Bacon, Fearless, and 3 or 4 Footmen.
Bac. Let the Groom lead the Horses o’er the Sevana; we’ll walk it on Foot, ’tis not a quarter of a Mile to the Town; and here the Air is cool.
Fear. The Breezes about this time of the Day begin to take wing, and fan refreshment to the Trees and Flowers.
Bac. And at these Hours how fragrant are the Groves!
Fear. The Country’s well, were but the people so.
Bac. But come, lets on— They pass to the Entrance.
Whim. There, Boys— The Soldiers come forth and fall on Bacon.
Bac. Hah! Ambush—
Draws, Fearless and Footmen draw, the Soldiers after a while fighting, take Bacon and Fearless, they having laid 3 or 4 dead.
Whiff. So, so, he’s taken; now we may venture out.
Whim. But are you sure he’s taken?
Whiff. Sure! can’t you believe your Eyes, come forth; I hate a Coward—Oh, Sir, have we caught your Mightiness.
Bac. Are you the Authors of this valiant Act? None but such villainous Cowards durst have attempted it.
Whim. Stop his railing Tongue.
Whiff. No, no, let him rail, let him rail now his Hands are ty’d, ha, ha. Why, good General Frightall, what, was no body able d’ye think to tame the roaring Lyon?
Bac. You’ll be hanged for this.
Whim. Come, come, away with him to the next Tree.
Bac. What mean you, Villains?
Whiff. Only to hang your Honour a little, that’s all. We’ll teach you, Sir, to serve your Country against Law.
As they go off, enter Daring with Soldiers.
Dar. Hah—my General betray’d!—this I suspected.
His Men come in, they fall on, release Bacon and Fearless, and his Man, and get Swords. Whimsey’s Party put Whim. and Whiff before ’em striking ’em as they endeavour to run on this side or that, and forcing ’em to bear up, they are taken after some fighting.
Fear. Did not the General tell you Rogues, you’d be all hang’d?
Whiff. Oh, Nancy, Nancy, how prophetick are thy Dreams!
Bac. Come, lets on—
Dar. S’death, what mean you, Sir?
Bac. As I designed—to present my self to the Council.
Dar. By Heavens, we’ll follow then to save you from their Treachery, ’twas this that has befallen you that I feared, which made me at a distance follow you.
Bac. Follow me still, but still at such a distance as your Aids may be assisting on all occasions.—Fearless, go back and bring your Regiment down; and Daring, let your Sergeant with his Party guard these Villains to the Council. Ex. Bac. Dar. and Fearless.
Whiff. A Pox on your Worship’s Plot.
Whim. A Pox of your forwardness to come out of the Hedge.
Ex. Officers, with Whim. and Whiff.
Enter Col. Wellman, Col. Downright, Dullman, Timorous, and about seven or eight more seat themselves.
Well. You heard Mr. Dunce’s opinion, Gentlemen, concerning Bacon’s coming upon our Invitation. He believes he will come, but I rather think, though he be himself undaunted, yet the persuasions of his two Lieutenant-Generals, Daring and Fearless, may prevent him—Colonel, have you order’d our Men to be in Arms?
Enter a Soldier.
Down. I have, and they’l attend further order on the Sevana.
Sold. May it please your Honours, Bacon is on his way, he comes unattended by any but his Footmen, and Col. Fearless.
Down. Who is this Fellow?
Well. A Spy I sent to watch Bacon’s Motions.
Sold. But there is a Company of Soldiers in Ambush on this side of the Sevana to seize him as he passes by.
Well. That’s by no order of the Council.
Omnes. No, no, no order.
Well. Nay, ’twere a good design if true.
Tim. Gad zoors, wou’d I had thought on’t for my Troop.
Down. I am for no unfair dealing in any extremity.
Enter Brag in haste.
Brag. An’t please your Honours, the saddest News—an Ambush being laid for Bacon, they rush’d out upon him on the Sevana, and after some fighting took him and Fearless—
Tim. Is this your sad News—zoors, wou’d I had had a hand in’t.
Brag. When on a sudden, Daring and his Party fell in upon us, turn’d the tide—kill’d our Men, and took Captain Whimsey, and Captain Whiff Pris’ners; the rest run away, but Bacon fought like fury.
Tim. A bloody Fellow!
Down. Whimsey and Whiff? they deserve Death for acting without order.
Tim. I’m of the Colonel’s Opinion, they deserve to hang for’t.
Dull. Why, Brother, I thought you had wish’d that the Plot had been yours but now.
Tim. Ay, but the Case is alter’d since that, good Brother.
Well. Now he’s exasperated past all hopes of a Reconciliation.
Dull. You must make use of the Statesman’s Refuge, wise Dissimulation.
Brag. For all this, Sir, he will not believe but that you mean honourably, and no Persuasions could hinder him from coming, so he has dismiss’d all his Soldiers, and is entring the Town on foot.
Well. What pity ’tis a brave Man should be guilty of an ill Action.
Brag. But the noise of his danger has so won the Hearts of the Mobile, that they increase his Train as he goes, and follow him in the Town like a Victor.
Well. Go wait his coming. Exit Brag.
He grows too popular and must be humbled.
Tim. I was ever of your mind, Colonel.
Well. Ay, right or wrong—but what’s your Counsel now?
Tim. E’en as it used to be, I leave it to wiser Heads.
Enter Brag.
Brag. Bacon, Sir, is entring.
Tim. Gad zoors, wou’d I were safe in bed.
Dull. Colonel, keep in your Heat, and treat calmly with him.
Well. I rather wish you would all follow me, I’d meet him at the head of all his noisy Rabble, and seize him from the Rout.
Down. What, Men of Authority dispute with Rake-hells! ’tis below us, Sir.
Tim. To stake our Lives and Fortunes against their nothing.
Enter Bacon, after him the Rabble with Staves and Clubs, bringing in Whim. and Whiff bound.
Well. What means this Insolence?—What, Mr. Bacon, do you come in Arms?
Bac. I’d need, Sir, come in Arms, when Men that should be honourable can have so poor Designs to take my Life.
Well. Thrust out his following Rabble.
1st Rab. We’ll not stir till we have the General safe back again.
Bac. Let not your Loves be too officious—but retire—
1st Rab. At your Command we vanish.— The Rabble retire.
Bac. I hope you’ll pardon me, if in my own defence I seized on these two Murderers.
Down. You did well, Sir, ’twas by no order they acted—stand forth and hear your Sentence—in time of War we need no formal Tryals to hang Knaves that act without order.
Whiff. Oh, Mercy, Mercy, Colonel—’twas Parson Dunce’s Plot.
Down. Issue out a Warrant to seize Dunce immediately—you shall be carry’d to the Fort to pray.
Whim. Oh, good your Honour, I never pray’d in all my Life.
Down. From thence drawn upon a Sledge to the place of Execution—where you shall hang till you are dead—and then be cut down and—
Whim. Oh, hold—hold—we shall never be able to endure half this. Kneeling.
Well. I think the Offence needs not so great Punishment; their Crime, Sir, is but equal to your own, acting without Commission.
Bac. ’Tis very well explained, Sir,—had I been murder’d by Commission then, the Deed had been approved, and now perhaps I am beholding to the Rabble for my Life.
Well. A fine Pretence to hide a popular Fault, but for this once we pardon them and you.
Bac. Pardon! for what? by Heaven, I scorn your Pardon, I’ve not offended Honour nor Religion.
Well. You have offended both in taking Arms.
Bac. Should I stand by and see my Country ruin’d, my King dishonour’d, and his Subjects murder’d, hear the sad Crys of Widows and of Orphans? you heard it loud, but gave no pitying care to’t, and till the War and Massacre was brought to my own door, my Flocks and Herds surprized, I bore it all with Patience. Is it unlawful to defend my self against a Thief that breaks into my Doors?
Well. And call you this defending of your self?
Bac. I call it doing of my self that right, which upon just demand the Council did refuse me; if my Ambition, as you’re pleased to call it, made me demand too much, I left my self to you.
Well. Perhaps we thought it did.
Bac. Sir, you affront my Birth—I am a Gentleman, and yet my Thoughts were humble—I would have fought under the meanest of your Parasites.
Tim. There’s a Bob for us, Brother. To Dull.
Bac. But still you put me off with Promises—and when compell’d to stir in my Defence I call’d none to my aid, and those that came, ’twas their own Wrongs that urg’d them.
Down. ’Tis fear’d, Sir, under this Pretence, you aim at Government.
Bac. I scorn to answer to so base an Accusation; the height of my Ambition is to be an honest Subject.
Well. An honest Rebel, Sir—
Bac. You know you wrong me, and ’tis basely urg’d—but this is trifling—here are my Commissions. Throws down Papers, Down. reads.
Down. To be General of the Forces against the Indians, and blank Commissions for his Friends.
Well. Tear them in pieces—are we to be imposed upon? Do ye come in hostile manner to compel us?
Down. Be not too rough, Sir, let us argue with him.
Well. I am resolv’d I will not.
Tim. Then we are all dead Men, Gudzoors! he will not give us time to say our Prayers.
Well. We every day expect fresh force from England, till then, we of our selves shall be sufficient to make defence against a sturdy Traitor.
Bac. Traitor! S’death, Traitor—I defy ye, but that my Honour’s yet above my Anger, I’d make you answer me that Traitor dearly. Rises.
Well. Hah—am I threatned—Guards, secure the Rebel. Guards seize him.
Bac. Is this your honourable Invitation? Go—triumph in your short-liv’d Victory, the next turn shall be mine. Exeunt Guards with Bac.
A Noise of Fighting—Enter Bacon, Wellman’s Guards beat back by the Rabble, Bacon snatches a Sword from one, and keeps back the Rabble, Tim. gets under the Table.
Down. What means this Insolence?
Rab. We’ll have our General, and knock that Fellow’s Brains out, and hang up Colonel Wellman.
All. Ay, ay, hang up Wellman. The Rabble seize Well. and Dull. and the rest.
Dull. Hold, hold, Gentlemen, I was always for the General.
Rab. Let’s barbicu this fat Rogue.
Bac. Be gone, and know your distance to the Council. The Rabble let ’em go.
Well. I’d rather perish by the meanest Hand, than owe my safety poorly thus to Bacon. In Rage.
Bac. If you persist still in that mind I’ll leave you, and conquering make you happy ’gainst your will. Ex. Bacon and Rabble, hollowing a Bacon, a Bacon.
Well. Oh villanous Cowards! who will trust his Honour with Sycophants so base? Let us to Arms—by Heaven, I will not give my Body rest, till I’ve chastised the boldness of this Rebel.
Exeunt Well. Down. and the rest, all but Dull. Tim. peeps from under the Table.
Tim. What, is the roistering Hector gone, Brother?
Dull. Ay, ay, and the Devil go with him. Looking sadly, Tim. comes out.
Tim. Was there ever such a Bull of Bashan! Why, what if he should come down upon us and kill us all for Traitors.
Dull. I rather think the Council will hang us all for Cowards—ah—oh—a Drum—a Drum—oh. He goes out.
Tim. This is the Misery of being great.
We’re sacrific’d to every turn of State.
Enter a great many People of all sorts, then Friendly, after him Dullman.
Friend. How now, Major; what, they say Bacon scar’d you all out of the Council yesterday; What say the People?
Dull. Say? they curse us all, and drink young Frightall’s Health, and swear they’ll fight through Fire and Brimstone for him.
Friend. And to morrow will hollow him to the Gallows, if it were his chance to come there.
Dull. ’Tis very likely: Why, I am forced to be guarded to the Court now, the Rabble swore they would De-Wit me, but I shall hamper some of ’em. Wou’d the Governour were here to bear the brunt on’t, for they call us the evil Counsellors.
Enter Hazard, goes to Friendly.
Here’s the young Rogue that drew upon us too, we have Rods in Piss for him, i’faith.
Enter Timorous with Bailiffs, whispers to Dullman, after which to the Bailiffs.
Tim. Gadzoors, that’s he, do your Office.
Bail. We arrest you, Sir, in the King’s Name, at the suit of the honourable Justice Timorous.
Haz. Justice Timorous! who the Devil’s he?
Tim. I am the man, Sir, d’ye see, for want of a better; you shall repent, Guds zoors, your putting of tricks upon Persons of my Rank and Quality. After he has spoke, he runs back as afraid of him.
Haz. Your Rank and Quality!
Tim. Ay, Sir, my Rank and Quality; first I am one of the honourable Council, next, a Justice of Peace in Quorum, Cornet of a Troop of Horse, d’ye see, and Church-warden.
Friend. From whence proceeds this, Mr. Justice? you said nothing of this at Madam Ranter’s yesterday; you saw him there, then you were good Friends.
Tim. Ay, however I have carried my Body swimmingly before my Mistress, d’ye see, I had Rancour in my Heart, Gads zoors.
Friend. Why, this Gentleman’s a Stranger, and but lately come ashore.
Haz. At my first landing I was in company with this Fellow and two or three of his cruel Brethren, where I was affronted by them, some Words pass’d, and I drew—
Tim. Ay, ay, Sir, you shall pay for’t,—why—what, Sir, cannot a civil Magistrate affront a Man, but he must be drawn upon presently?
Friend. Well, Sir, the Gentleman shall answer your Suit, and I hope you’ll take my Bail for him.
Tim. ’Tis enough—I know you to be a civil Person.
Timorous and Dullman take their Places on a long Bench placed behind the Table, to them Whimsey and Whiff, they seat themselves, then Boozer and two or three more; who seat themselves: Then enter two, bearing a Bowl of Punch and a great Ladle or two in it; the rest of the Stage being fill’d with People.
Whiff. Brothers, it hath often been mov’d at the Bench, that a new Punch-Bowl shou’d be provided, and one of a larger Circumference; when the Bench sits late about weighty Affairs, oftentimes the Bowl is emptied before we end.
Whim. A good Motion; Clerk, set it down.
Clerk. Mr. Justice Boozer, the Council has order’d you a Writ of Ease, and dismiss your Worship from the Bench.
Booz. Me from the Bench, for what?
Whim. The Complaint is, Brother Boozer, for drinking too much Punch in the time of hearing Tryals.
Whiff. And that you can neither write nor read, nor say the Lord’s Prayer.
Tim. That your Warrants are like a Brewer’s Tally, a Notch on a Stick; if a special Warrant, then a couple. Gods zoors, when his Excellency comes he will have no such Justices.
Booz. Why, Brother, though I can’t read my self, I have had Dalton’s Country-Justice read over to me two or three times, and understand the Law. This is your Malice, Brother Whiff, because my Wife does not come to your Warehouse to buy her Commodities,—but no matter, to show I have no Malice in my Heart, I drink your Health.—I care not this, I can turn Lawyer, and plead at the Board. Drinks, all pledge him, and hum.
Dull. Mr. Clerk, come to the Tryals on the Dockett. Clerk reads.
Cler. The first is between his Worship Justice Whiff and one Grubb.
Dull. Ay, that Grubb’s a common Disturber, Brother, your Cause is a good Cause if well manag’d, here’s to’t. Drinks.
Whiff. I thank you, Brother Dullman—read my Petition. Drinks.
Cler. The Petition of Captain Thomas Whiff, sheweth, That whereas Gilbert Grubb calls his Worship’s Wife Ann Whiff Whore, and said he would prove it; your Petitioner desires the Worshipful Bench to take it into Consideration, and your Petitioner shall ever pray, &c.— Here’s two Witnesses have made Affidavit viva voce, an’t like your Worships.
Dull. Call Grubb.
Cler. Gilbert Grubb, come into the Court.
Grub. Here.
Whim. Well, what can you say for your self, Mr. Grubb.
Grub. Why, an’t like your Worship, my Wife invited some Neighbours Wives to drink a Cagg of Syder; now your Worship’s Wife, Madam Whiff, being there fuddled, would have thrust me out of doors, and bid me go to my old Whore Madam Whimsey, meaning your Worship’s Wife. To Whimsey.
Whim. Hah! My Wife called Whore, she’s a Jade, and I’ll arrest her Husband here—in an Action of Debts.
Tim. Gad zoors, she’s no better than she should be, I’ll warrant her.
Whiff. Look ye, Brother Whimsey, be patient; you know the humour of my Nancy, when she’s drunk; but when she’s sober, she’s a civil Person, and shall ask your pardon.
Whim. Let this be done, and I am satisfied. And so here’s to you. Drinks.
Dull. Go on to the Trial.
Grub. I being very angry, said indeed, I would prove her a greater Whore than Madam Whimsey.
Cler. An’t like your Worships, he confesses the Words in open Court.
Grub. Why, an’t like your Worships, she has had two Bastards, I’ll prove it.
Whiff. Sirrah, Sirrah, that was when she was a Maid, not since I marry’d her; my marrying her made her honest.
Dull. Let there be an order of Court to sue him for Scandalum magnatum.
Tim. Mr. Clerk, let my Cause come next.
Cler. The Defendant’s ready, Sir. Hazard comes to the Board.
Tim. Brothers of the Bench, take notice, that this Hector here coming into Mrs. Flirt’s Ordinary, where I was with my Brother Dullman and Lieutenant Boozer; we gave him good Counsel to fall to work: Now my Gentleman here was affronted at this, forsooth, and makes no more to do but calls us Scoundrels, and drew his Sword on us; and had I not defended my self by running away, he had murdered me, and assassinated my two Brothers.
Whiff. What Witness have you, Brother?
Tim. Here’s Mrs. Flirt and her Maid Nell,—besides, we may be Witness for one another, I hope, our Words may be taken.
Cler. Mrs. Flirt and Nell are sworn. They stand forth.
Whim. By the Oaths that you have taken, speak nothing but the truth.
Flirt. An’t please your Worships, your Honours came to my House, where you found this young Gentleman: and your Honours invited him to drink with your Honours; Where after some opprobrious Words given him, Justice Dullman, and Justice Boozer struck him over the Head; and after that indeed the Gentleman drew.
Tim. Mark that, Brother, he drew.
Haz. If I did, it was se defendendo.
Tim. Do you hear that, Brothers, he did it in defiance.
Haz. Sir, you ought not to sit Judge and Accuser too.
Whiff. The Gentleman’s i’th’ right, Brother, you cannot do’t according to Law.
Tim. Gads zoors, what new tricks, new querks?
Haz. Gentlemen, take notice, he swears in Court.
Tim. Gads zoors, what’s that to you, Sir?
Haz. This is the second time of his swearing.
Whim. What, do you think we are deaf, Sir? Come, come, proceed.
Tim. I desire he may be bound to his Good Behaviour, fin’d, and deliver up his Sword, what say you, Brother? Jogs Dull. who nods.
Whim. He’s asleep, drink to him and waken him,— you have miss’d the Cause by sleeping, Brother. Drinks.
Dull. Justice may nod, but never sleeps, Brother— you were at—Deliver his Sword—a good Motion, let it be done. Drinks.
Haz. No, Gentlemen, I wear a Sword to right my self.
Tim. That’s fine, i’faith, Gads zoors, I’ve worn a Sword this dozen Year, and never cou’d right my self.
Whiff. Ay, ’twou’d be a fine World if Men should wear Swords to right themselves; he that’s bound to the Peace shall wear no Sword.
Whim. I say, he that’s bound to the Peace ought to wear no Peruke, they may change ’em for black or white, and then who can know them.
Haz. I hope, Gentlemen, I may be allowed to speak for my self.
Whiff. Ay, what can you say for your self, did you not draw your Sword, Sirrah?
Haz. I did.
Tim. ’Tis sufficient, he confesses the Fact, and we’ll hear no more.
Haz. You will not hear the Provocation given.
Dull. ’Tis enough, Sir, you drew—
Whim. Ay, ay, ’tis enough, he drew—let him be fin’d.
Friend. The Gentleman should be heard, he’s Kinsman too to Colonel John Surelove.
Tim. Hum—Colonel Surelove’s Kinsman.
Whiff. Is he so? nay, then all the reason in the World he should be heard, Brothers.
Whim. Come, come, Cornet, you shall be Friends with the Gentleman; this was some drunken bout, I’ll warrant you.
Tim. Ha, ha, ha, so it was, Gads zoors.
Whiff. Come, drink to the Gentleman, and put it up.
Tim. Sir, my service to you, I am heartily sorry for what’s pass’d, but it was in my drink. Drinks.
Whim. You hear his Acknowledgments, Sir, and when he’s sober he never quarrels. Come, Sir, sit down, my Service to you.
Haz. I beg your excuse, Gentlemen—I have earnest business.
Dull. Let us adjourn the Court, and prepare to meet the Regiments on the Sevana. All go but Friend. and Hazard.
Haz. Is this the best Court of Judicature your Country affords?
Friend. To give it its due, it is not. But how does thy Amour thrive?
Haz. As well as I can wish in so short a time.
Friend. I see she regards thee with kind Eyes, Sighs and Blushes.
Haz. Yes, and tells me I am so like a Brother she had —to excuse her kind concern,—then blushes so prettily, that, Gad, I cou’d not forbear making a discovery of my Heart.
Friend. Have a care of that, come upon her by slow degrees, for I know she is virtuous;—but come, let’s to the Sevana, where I’ll present you to the two Colonels, Wellman and Downright, the Men that manage all till the arrival of the Governour.
Enter Wellman, Downright, Boozer, and Officers.
Well. Have you dispatch’d the Scouts, to watch the Motions of the Enemies? I know that Bacon is violent and haughty, and will resent our vain Attempts upon him; therefore we must be speedy in prevention.
Down. What Forces have you raised since our last order?
Booz. Here’s a List of ’em, they came but slowly in, till we promised every one a Bottle of Brandy.
Enter Officer and Dunce.
Offi. We have brought Mr. Dunce here, as your Honour commanded us; after strict search we found him this Morning in bed with Madam Flirt.
Down. No matter, he’ll exclaim no less against the Vices of the Flesh the next Sunday.
Dun. I hope, Sir, you will not credit the Malice of my Enemies.
Well. No more, you are free, and what you counsell’d about the Ambush, was both prudent and seasonable, and perhaps I now wish it had taken effect.
Enter Friendly and Hazard.
Friend. I have brought an English Gentleman to kiss your Hands, Sir, and offer you his Service, he is young and brave, and Kinsman to Colonel Surelove.
Well. Sir, you are welcome; and to let you see you are so, we will give you your Kinsman’s Command, Captain of a Troop of Horse-Guards, and which I’m sure will be continued to you when the Governour arrives.
Haz. I shall endeavour to deserve the Honour, Sir.
Enter Dull. Tim. Whim. and Whiff, all in Buff, Scarf, and Feather.
Down. So, Gentlemen, I see you’re in a readiness.
Tim. Readiness! What means he, I hope we are not to be drawn out to go against the Enemy, Major.
Dull. If we are, they shall look a new Major for me.
Well. We were debating, Gentlemen, what course were best to pursue against this powerful Rebel.
Friend. Why, Sir, we have Forces enough, let’s charge him instantly, Delays are dangerous.
Tim. Why, what a damn’d fiery Fellow is this?
Down. But if we drive him to extremities, we fear his siding with the Indians.
Dull. Colonel Downright has hit it; why should we endanger our Men against a desperate Termagant; If he love Wounds and Scars so well, let him exercise on our Enemies—but if he will needs fall upon us, ’tis then time enough for us to venture our Lives and Fortunes.
Tim. How, we go to Bacon! under favour, I think ’tis his duty to come to us, an you go to that, Gads zoors.
Friend. If he do, ’twill cost you dear, I doubt, Cornet.—I find by our List, Sir, we are four thousand Men.
Tim. Gads zoors, not enough for a Breakfast for that insatiate Bacon, and his two Lieutenant Generals, Fearless and Daring. Whiff sits on the Ground with a Bottle of Brandy.
Whim. A Morsel, a Morsel.
Well. I am for an attack, what say you, Gentlemen, to an attack?—What, silent all? What say you, Major?
Dull. I say, Sir, I hope my Courage was never in dispute. But, Sir, I am going to marry Colonel Downright’s Daughter here—and should I be slain in this Battle ’twould break her Heart;—besides, Sir, I should lose her Fortune. Speaks big.
Well. I’m sure here’s a Captain will never flinch. To Whim.
Whim. Who, I, an’t like your Honour?
Well. Ay, you.
Whim. Who, I? ha, ha, ha: Why, did your Honour think that I would fight?
Well. Fight! yes; why else do you take Commissions?
Whim. Commissions! Oh Lord, O Lord, take Commissions to fight! ha, ha, ha; that’s a jest, if all that take Commissions should fight—
Well. Why do you bear Arms then?
Whim. Why, for the Pay; to be called Captain, noble Captain, to show, to cock and look big, and bluff as I do: to be bow’d to thus as we pass, to domineer and beat our Soldiers: Fight, quoth a, ha, ha, ha.
Friend. But what makes you look so simply, Cornet?
Tim. Why, a thing that I have quite forgot, all my Accounts for England are to be made up, and I’m undone if they be neglected—else I wou’d not flinch for the stoutest he that wears a Sword— Looking big.
Down. What say you, Captain Whiff? Whiff almost drunk.
Whiff. I am trying, Colonel, what Mettle I’m made on; I think I am valiant, I suppose I have Courage, but I confess ’tis a little of the D—— breed, but a little inspiration from the Bottle, and the leave of my Nancy, may do wonders.
Enter a Seaman in haste.
Sea. An’t please your Honours, Frightall’s Officers have seiz’d all the Ships in the River, and rid now round the Shore, and had by this time secur’d the sandy Beach, and landed Men to fire the Town, but that they are high in drink aboard the Ship call’d the Good-Subject; the Master of her sent me to let your Honours know, that a few Men sent to his assistance will surprize them and retake the Ships.
Well. Now, Gentlemen, here is a brave occasion for Emulation—why writ not the Master?
Dull. Ay, had he writ, I had soon been amongst them, i’faith; but this is some Plot to betray us.
Sea. Keep me here, and kill me if it be not true.
Down. He says well—there’s a Brigantine and a Shallop ready, I’ll embark immediately.
Friend. No, Sir, your Presence is here more necessary, let me have the Honour of this Expedition.
Haz. I’ll go your Volunteer, Charles.
Well. Who else offers to go?
Whim. A mere Trick to kidnap us, by Bacon,—if the Captain had writ.
Tim. Ay, ay, if he had writ—
Well. I see you’re all base Cowards, and here cashier ye from all Commands and Offices.
Whim. Look ye, Colonel, you may do what you please, but you lose one of the best dress’d Officers in your whole Camp, Sir.
Tim. And in me, such a Head-piece.
Whiff. I’ll say nothing, but let the State want me.
Dull. For my part I am weary of weighty Affairs.
In this while Well. Down. Friend. and Haz. talk.
Well. Command what Men you please, but Expedition makes you half a Conqueror.
Ex. Friend. and Haz.
Enter another Seaman with a Letter, gives it to Downright, he and Wellman read it.
Down. Look ye now, Gentlemen, the Master has writ.
Dull. Has he—he might have writ sooner, while I was in Command,—if he had—
Whim. Ay, Major—if he had—but let them miss us.
Well. Colonel, haste with your Men, and reinforce the Beach, while I follow with the Horse;—Mr. Dunce, pray let that Proclamation be read concerning Bacon, to the Soldiers. Ex. Down. and Well.
Dun. It shall be done, Sir. Gentlemen, how simply you look now.
The Scene opens and discovers a Body of Soldiers.
Tim. Why, Mr. Parson, I have a scruple of Conscience upon me, I am considering whether it be lawful to kill, though it be in War; I have a great aversion to’t, and hope it proceeds from Religion.
Whiff. I remember the Fit took you just so when the Dutch besieged us, for you cou’d not then be persuaded to strike a stroke.
Tim. Ay, that was because they were Protestants as we are; but, Gads zoors, had they been Dutch Papists I had maul’d them: but Conscience—
Whim. I have been a Justice of Peace this six Years, and never had a Conscience in my Life.
Tim. Nor I neither, but in this damn’d thing of fighting.
Dun. Gentlemen, I am commanded to read the Declaration of the honourable Council to you. To the Soldiers.
All. Hum, hum, hum—
Booz. Silence—silence— Dunce reads.
Dun. By an order of Council, dated May the 10th, 1670. To all Gentlemen Soldiers, Merchants, Planters, and whom else it may concern. Whereas Bacon, contrary to Law and Equity, has, to satisfy his own Ambition, taken up Arms with a pretence to fight the Indians, but indeed to molest and enslave the whole Colony, and to take away their Liberties and Properties; this is to declare, that whoever shall bring this Traitor dead or alive to the Council, shall have three hundred pounds Reward. And so God save the King.
All. A Council, a Council! Hah— Hollow.
Enter a Soldier hastily.
Sold. Stand to your Arms, Gentlemen, stand to your Arms, Bacon is marching this way.
Dun. Hah—what Numbers has he?
Sold. About a hundred Horse, in his march he has surpriz’d Colonel Downright, and taken him Prisoner.
All. Let’s fall on Bacon—let’s fall on Bacon, hay. Hollow.
Booz. We’ll hear him speak first—and see what he can say for himself.
All. Ay, ay, we’ll hear Bacon speak. Dunce pleads with them.
Tim. Well, Major, I have found a Stratagem shall make us Four the greatest Men in the Colony, we’ll surrender our selves to Bacon, and say we disbanded on purpose.
Dull. Good—
Whiff. Why, I had no other design in the World in refusing to fight.
Whim. Nor I, d’ye think I wou’d have excus’d it with the fear of disordering my Cravat-String else.
Dun. Why, Gentlemen, he designs to fire James Town, murder you all, and then lie with your Wives; and will you slip this opportunity of seizing him?
Booz. Here’s a termagant Rogue, Neighbours—we’ll hang the Dog.
All. Ay, ay, hang Bacon, hang Bacon.
Enter Bacon and Fearless, some Soldiers leading in Downright bound; Bacon stands and stares a while on the Regiments, who are silent all.
Bac. Well, Gentlemen, in order to your fine Declaration, you see I come to render my self.
Dun. How came he to know of our Declaration?
Whiff. Rogues, Rogues among our selves, that inform.
Bac. What, are ye silent all,—not a Man to lift his Hand in Obedience to the Council, to murder this Traytor that has exposed his Life so often for you? Hah, what, not for three hundred Pound?—You see I’ve left my Troops behind, and come all wearied with the Toils of War, worn out by Summers heats, and Winters cold, march’d tedious Days and Nights through Bogs and Fens as dangerous as your Clamours, and as faithless,—what though ’twas to preserve you all in Safety, no matter, you shou’d obey the grateful Council, and kill this honest Man that has defended you.
All. Hum, hum, hum.
Whiff. The General speaks like a Gorgon.
Tim. Like a Cherubin, Man.
Bac. All silent yet—where’s that mighty Courage, that cried so loud but now, A Council, a Council? where is your Resolution? cannot three hundred Pound excite your Valour to seize that Traitor Bacon who has bled for you?
All. A Bacon, a Bacon, a Bacon. Hollow.
Down. Oh villainous Cowards!—Oh the faithless Multitude!
Bac. What say you, Parson?—you have a forward Zeal.
Dun. I wish my Coat, Sir, did not hinder me from acting as becomes my Zeal and Duty.
Whim. A plaguy rugged Dog,—that Parson—
Bac. Fearless, seize me that canting Knave from out the Herd, and next those honourable Officers.
Points to Dull. Whim. Whiff, and Tim. Fearless seizes them, and gives them to the Soldiers, and takes the Proclamation from Dunce, and shews Bacon; they read it.
Dull. Seize us, Sir, you shall not need, we laid down our Commissions on purpose to come over to your Honour.
Whiff. We ever lov’d and honour’d your Honour.
Tim. So intirely, Sir—that I wish I were safe in James Town for your sake, and your Honour were hang’d. Aside.
Bac. This fine Piece is of your penning, Parson,—though it be countenanc’d by the Council’s Names.—Oh Ingratitude! Burn, burn the treacherous Town, fire it immediately.—
Whim. We’ll obey you, Sir.
Whiff. Ay, ay, we’ll make a Bonfire on’t, and drink your Honour’s health round about it. They offer to go.
Bac. Yet hold, my Revenge shall be more merciful, I ordered that all the Women of Rank shall be seiz’d and brought to my Camp. I’ll make their Husbands pay their Ransoms dearly; they’d rather have their Hearts bleed than their Purses.
Fear. Dear General, let me have the seizing of Colonel Downright’s Daughter; I would fain be plundering for a Trifle call’d a Maiden-head.
Bac. On pain of Death treat them with all respect; assure them of the safety of their Honour. Now, all that will follow me, shall find a welcome, and those that will not, may depart in Peace.
All. Hay, a General, a General, a General. Some Soldiers go off: Some go to the side of Bacon.
Enter Daring and Soldiers, with Chrisante, Surelove, Mrs. Whim. and Mrs. Whiff, and several other Women.
Bac. Successful Daring, welcome, what Prizes have ye?
Dar. The fairest in the World, Sir; I’m not for common Plunder.
Down. Hah, my Daughter and my Kinswoman!—
Bac. ’Tis not with Women, Sir, nor honest men like you, that I intend to combat; not their own Parents shall be more indulgent, nor better Safe-guard to their Honours, Sir: But ’tis to save the expence of Blood I seize on their most valued Prizes.
Down. But, Sir, I know your wild Lieutenant General has long lov’d my Chrisante, and perhaps, will take this time to force her to consent.
Dar. I own I have a Passion for Chrisante, yet by my General’s Life, or her fair self, what now I act is on the score of War, I scorn to force the Maid I do adore.
Bac. Believe me, Ladies, you shall have honourable Treatment here.
Chris. We do not doubt it, Sir, either from you or Daring; if he love me, that will secure my Honour; or if he do not, he’s too brave to injure me.
Dar. I thank you for your just opinion of me, Madam.
Chris. But, Sir, ’tis for my Father I must plead; to see his reverend Hands in servile Chains; and then perhaps, if stubborn to your Will, his Head must fall a Victim to your Anger.
Down. No, my good pious Girl, I cannot fear ignoble usage from the General; and if thy Beauty can preserve thy Fame, I shall not mourn in my Captivity.
Bac. I’ll ne’er deceive your kind opinion of me—Ladies, I hope you’re all of that Opinion too.
Sure. If seizing us, Sir, can advance your Honour, or be of any use considerable to you, I shall be proud of such a Slavery.