SIR GODFREY.Sirrah, what’s this to my chain? where’s my chain, knave?
FRAILTY.Your chain, sir?
SIR GODFREY.My chain is lost, villain.
FRAILTY.I would he were hang’d in chains that has it then for me.Alas, sir, I saw none of your chain, since you were hungwith it your self.
SIR GODFREY.Out, varlet! it had full three thousand Links.I have oft told it over at my prayers:Over and over, full three thousand Links.
FRAILTY. Had it so, sir: sure, it cannot be lost then; I’ll put you in that comfort.
SIR GODFREY.Why, why?
FRAILTY. Why, if your chain had so many Links, it cannot choose but come to light.
[Enter Nicholas.]
SIR GODFREY.Delusion! now, long Nicholas, where’s my chain?
NICHOLAS.Why, about your Neck, ist not, sir?
SIR GODFREY.About my neck, Varlet! My chain is lost.Tis stole away, I’m robbed.
WIDDOW.Nay, Brother, show your self a man.
NICHOLAS.Aye, if it be lost or stole, if he would be patient, Mistress,I could bring him to a Cunning Kinsman of mine that wouldfetcht again with a Sesarara.
SIR GODFREY.Canst thou? I will be patient: say, where dwells he?
NICHOLAS. Marry, he dwells now, Sir, where he would not dwell, and he could choose: in the Marshalsea, sir; but he’s a exlent fellow if he were out; has traveled all the world o’er, he, and been in the seven and twenty Provinces; why, he would make it be fetcht, Sir, if twere rid a thousand mile out of town.
SIR GODFREY.An admirable fellow: what lies he for?
NICHOLAS. Why, he did but rob a Steward of ten groats tother Night, as any man would ha done, and there he lies fort.
SIR GODFREY.I’ll make his peace: a Trifle! I’ll get his pardon,Beside a bountiful reward. I’ll about it.But see the Clerks, the Justice will do much.I will about it straight: good sister, pardon me.All will be well, I hope, and turn to good,The name of Conjurer has laid my blood.
[Exeunt.]
[Enter two servants with Yeoman Dogson to arrest the Scholar,George Pye-board.]
PUT. His Hostess where he lies will trust him no longer: she has feed me to arrest him; and if you will accompany me, because I know not of what Nature the Scholar is, whether desperate or swift, you shall share with me, Servant Raven- shaw. I have the good Angell to arrest him.
RAVEN. Troth, I’ll take part with thee, then, Sergeant, not for the sake of the money so much, as for the hate I bear to a Scholar: why, Sergeant, tis Natural in us, you know, to hate Scholars, natural: besides, the will publish our imperfections, Knaveries, and Convayances upon Scaffolds and Stages.
PUT. Aye, and spitefully, too; troth, I have wondered how the slaves could see into our breasts so much, when our doublets are buttoned with Pewter.
RAVEN.Aye, and so close without yielding; oh, they’re parlousfellows, they will search more with their wits than aConstable with all his officers.
PUT.Whist, whist, whist! Yeoman Dogson Yeoman Dogson.
DOGSON.Ha, what says Sergeant?
PUT.Is he in the Pothecaries shop still?
DOGSON.Aye, aye.
PUT.Have an eye, have an eye.
RAVEN. The best is, Sergeant, if he be a true Scholar, he wears no weapon, I think.
PUT.No, no, he wears no weapon.
RAVEN. Mass, I am right glad of that: ’tas put me in better heart. Nay, if I clutch him once, let me alone to drag him if he be stiff-necked. I have been one of the six my self, that has dragged as tall men of their hands, when their weapons have been gone, as ever bastinadoed a Sergeant—I have done, I can tell you.
DOGSON.Sergeant Puttock, Sergeant Puttock.
PUT.Hoh.
DOGSON.He’s coming out single.
PUT. Peace, peace, be not too greedy; let him play a little, let him play a litle: we’ll jerk him up of a sudden. I ha fished in my time.
RAVEN.Aye, and caught many a fool, Sergeant.
[Enter Pye-board.]
PYE.I parted now from Nicholas: the chain’s couched,And the old Knight has spent his rage upont;The widdow holds me in great AdmirationFor cunning Art: mongst joys I am ’een lost,For my device can no way now be crossed.And now I must to prison to the captain,And there—
PUT.I arrest you, sir.
PYE. Oh—I spoke truer then I was a ware, I must to prison indeed.
PUT. They say you’re a scholar: nay, sir—Yeoman Dogson, have care to his arms—you’ll rail again Sergeants, and stage ’em! you tickle their vices!
PYE.Nay, use me like a Gentleman, I’m little less.
PUT. You a Gentleman? That’s a good Jest, ifaith; can a Scholar be a Gentleman,—when a Gentleman will not be a Scholar? look upon your wealthy Citizen’s sons, whether they be Scholars or no, that are Gentlemen by their father’s trades: a Scholar a Gentleman!
PYE. Nay, let Fortune drive all her stings into me, she cannot hurt that in me: a Gentleman is Accidens Inseperable to my blood.
RAVEN.A rablement, nay, you shall have a bloody rablement upon you,I warrant you.
PUT.Go, Yeoman Dogson, before, and Enter the Action ’ith Counter.
PYE.Pray do not hand me Cruelly, I’ll go,
[Exit Dogson.]
Whether you please to have me.
PUT.Oh, he’s tame; let him loose, sergeant.
PYE.Pray, at whose suit is this?
PUT. Why at your Hostesses suit where you lie, Mistress Cunnyburrow, for bed and board, the sum four pound five shillings and five pence.
PYE.I know the sum too true, yet I presumedUpon a farder day; well, tis my starsAnd I must bear it now, tho never harder.I swear now, my device is crossed indeed.Captain must lie bite: this is Deceit’s seed.
PUT.Come, come away.
PYE. Pray, give me so much time as to knit my garter, and I’ll a way with you.
PUT. Well, we must be paid for this waiting upon you, this is no pains to attend thus.
[Pye-board making to tie his garter.]
PYE. I am now wretched and miserable. I shall ne’er recover of this disease: hot Iron gnaw their fists! they have struck a Fever into my shoulder, which I shall ne’er shake out again, I fear me, till with a true Habeas Corpus the Sexton remove me. Oh, if I take prison once, I shall be pressed to death with Actions, but not so happy as speedily; perhaps I may be forty year a pressing, till I be a thin old man; That, looking through the grates, men may look through me. All my means is confounded: what shall I do? has my wits served me so long, and now give me the slip (like a Trained servant) when I have most need of ’em? no device to keep my poor carcass fro these Puttocks?—yes, happiness! have I a paper about me now? yes, too! I’ll try it, it may hit: Extremity is Touch-stone unto wit. Aye, aye.
PUT. Sfoot, how many yards are in thy Garters, that thou art so long a tying on them? come away, sir.
PYE. Troth, Sergeant, I protest, you could never ha took me at a worse time; for now at this instant I have no lawful picture about me.
PUT.Slid, how shall we come by our fees then?
RAVEN.We must have fees, Sirra.
PYE. I could ha wisht, ifaith, that you had took me half an hour hence for your own sake; for I protest, if you had not crossed me, I was going in great joy to receive five pound of a Gentleman, for the Device of a Mask here, drawn in this paper. But now, come, I must be contented: tis but so much lost, and answerable to the rest of my fortunes.
PUT.Why, how far hence dwells that Gentleman?
RAVEN.Aye, well said, sergeant, tis good to cast about for money.
PUT.Speak; if it be not far—
PYE.We are but a little past it, the next street behind us.
PUT. Slid, w have waited upon you grievously already: if you’ll say you’ll be liberal when you hate, give us double fees, and spend upon’s, why we’ll show you that kindness, and go along with you to the Gentleman.
RAVEN.Aye, well said still, sergeant, urge that.
PYE. Troth, if it will suffice, it shall be all among you; for my part I’ll not pocket a penny: my hostess shall have her four pound five shillings, and bate me the five pence, and the other fifteen shillings I’ll spend upon you.
RAVEN.Why, now thou art a good Scholar.
PUT. An excellent Scholar, ifaith; has proceeded very well alate; come, we’ll along with you.
[Exeunt with him: passing in they knock at the door with aKnocker withinside.]
[Enter a servant.]
SERVANT.Who knocks? who’s at door? we had need of a Porter.
PYE.A few friends here:—pray, is the Gentleman your master within?
SERVANT.Yes, is your business to him?
PYE. Aye, he knows it, when he see’s me: I pray you, have you forgot me?
SERVANT. Aye, by my troth, sir. Pray come near; I’ll in and tell him of you: please you to walk here in the Gallery till he comes.
PYE. We will attend his worship.—Worship, I think, for so much the Posts at his door should signify, and the fair coming in, and the wicket; else I neither knew him nor his worship, but ’tis happiness he is within doors, what so ere he be; if he be not too much a formal Citizen, he may do me good.— Sergeant and Yeoman, how do you like this house? ist not most wholesomely plotted?
RAVEN.Troth, prisoner, an exceeding fine house.
PYE. Yet I wonder how he should forget me,—for he ne’er knew me.—No matter, what is forgot in you will be remembered in your Master. A pretty comfortable room this, me thinks: You have no such rooms in prison now?
PUT.Oh, dog-holes toote.
PYE. Dog-holes, indeed. I can tell you, I have great hope to have my Chamber here shortly, nay, and diet too, for he’s the most free-heartedst Gentleman where he takes: you would little think it! and what a fine Gallery were here for me to walk and study, and make verses.
PUT.O, it stands very pleasantly for a Scholar.
[Enter Gentleman.]
PYE. Look what maps, and pictures, and devices, and things: neatly, delicately—mass, here he comes: he should be a Gentleman; I like his Beard well.—All happiness to your worship.
GENTLEMAN.You’re kindly welcome, sir.
PUT.A simple salutation.
RAVEN.Mass, it seems the Gentleman makes great account of him.
PYE. I have the thing here for you, sir. I beseech you conceal me, sir, I’m undone else,—I have the Mask here for you, sir, Look you, sir.—I beseech your worship first to pardon my rudeness, for my extremes makes me bolder than I would be. I am a poor Gentleman and a Scholar, and now most unfortunately fallen into the Fangs of unmerciful officers, arrested for debt, which tho small, I am not able to compass, by reason I’m destitute of lands, money, and friends; so that if I fall into the hungry swallow of the prison, I am like utterly to perish, and with fees and extortions be pincht clean to the bone. Now, if ever pity had interest in the blood of a Gentleman, I beseech you vouchsafe but to favour that means of my escape, which I have already thought upon.
GENTLEMAN.Go forward.
PUT.I warrant he likes it rarely.
PYE. In the plundge of my extremities, being giddy, and doubtful what to do, at least it was put into my labouring thoughts, to make happy use of this paper; and to blear their unlettered eyes, I told them there was a Device for a Mask drawn int’, and that (but for their interception,) I was going to a Gentleman to receive my reward for’t: they, greedy at this word, and hoping to make purchase of me, offered their attendance, to go along with me. My hap was to make bold with your door, Sir, which my thoughts showed me the most fairest and comfortablest entrance, and I hope I have happened right upon understanding and pity: may it please your good Worship, then, but to uphold my Device, which is to let one of your men put me out at back-door, and I shall be bound to your worship for ever.
GENTLEMAN.By my troth, an excellent device.
PUT.An excellent device, he says; he likes it wonderfully.
GENTLEMAN.A my faith, I never heard a better.
RAVEN.Hark, he swears he never heard a better, Sergeant.
PUT. O, there’s no talk on’t, he’s an excellent Scholar, and especially for a Mask.
GENTLEMAN. Give me your Paper, your Device; I was never better pleased in all my life: good wit, brave wit, finely wrought! come in, sir, and receive your money, sir.
PYE.I’ll follow your good Worship.—You heard how he liked it now?
PUT. Puh, we know he could not choose but like it: go thy ways; thou art a witty fine fellow, ifaith, thou shalt discourse it to us at Tavern anon, wilt thou?
pye. Aye, aye, that I will. Look, Sergeants, here are Maps, and pretty toys: be doing in the mean time. I shall quickly have told out the money, you know.
PUT. Go, go, little villain, fetch thy chinck. I begin to love thee; I’ll be drunk to night in thy company.
PYE.[Aside.] This Gentleman I may well call a partOf my salvation, in these earthly evils,For he has saved me from three hungry Devils.
[Exit George.]
PUT. Sirrah Sergeant, these Maps are pretty painted things, but I could ne’er fancy ’em yet: me thinks they’re too busy, and full of Circles and Conjurations; they say all the world’s in one of them, but I could ne’er find the Counter in the Poultry.
RAVEN. I think so: how could you find it? for you know, it stands behind the houses.
DOGSON.Mass, that’s true; then we must look ath’ back-side fort.Sfoot, here’s nothing, all’s bare.
RAVEN. I warrant thee, that stands for the Counter, for you know there’s a company of bare fellows there.
PUT. Faith, like enough, Sergeant; I never marked so much before. Sirrah Sergeant, and Yeoman, I should love these Maps out a cry now, if we could see men peep out of door in em: oh, we might have em in a morning to our Break-fast so finely, and ne’er knock our heels to the ground a whole day for em.
RAVEN. Aye, marry, sir, I’d buy one then my self. But this talk is by the way: where shall’s sup to night? Five pound receiv’d! let’s talk of that. I have a trick worth all: you two shall bear him to ’th Tavern, whilst I go close with his Hostess, and work out of her. I know she would be glad of the sum to finger money, because she knows tis but a desperate debt, and full of hazard. What will you say, if I bring it to pass that the Hostess shall be contented with one half for all; and we to share tother fifty-shillings, bullies?
PUT. Why, I would call thee King of Sergeants, and thou shouldst be Chronicled in the Counter book for ever.
RAVEN.Well, put it to me, we’ll make a Night on’t, yfaith.
DOGSON.Sfoot, I think he receives a more money, he stays so long.
PUT. He tarries long, indeed: may be, I can tell you, upon the good liking ont the Gentleman may prove more bountiful.
RAVEN.That would be rare; we’ll search him.
PUT. Nay, be sure of it, we’ll search him! and make him light enough.
[Enter the Gentleman.]
RAVEN.Oh, here comes the Gentleman. By your leave, sir.
GENTLEMAN.God you god den, sirs,—would you speak with me?
PUT. No, not with your worship, sir; only we are bold to stay for a friend of ours that went in with your worship.
GENTLEMAN.Who? not the scholar?
PUT.Yes, e’en he, and it please your worship.
GENTLEMAN.Did he make you stay for him? he did you wrong, then: why,I can assure you he’s gone above an hour ago.
RAVEN.How, sir?
GENTLEMAN. I paid him his money, and my man told me he went out at back-door.
PUT.Back-door?
GENTLEMAN.Why, what’s the matter?
PUT.He was our prisoner, sir; we did arrest him.
GENTLEMAN. What! he was not! you the Sheriff’s Officers! You were to blame then. Why did you no make known to me as much? I could have kept him for you: I protest he received all of me in Britain Gold of the last coining.
RAVEN.Vengeance dog him with’t!
PUT.Sfott, has he guiled us so?
DOGSON.Where shall we sup now Sergeant?
PUT. Sup, Simon, now! eat Porridge for a month. Well, we cannot impute it to any lack of good-will in your Worship,—you did but as another would have done: twas our hard fortunes to miss the purchase, but if e’er we clutch him again, the Counter shall charm him.
RAVEN.The hole shall rot him.
DOGSON.Amen
[Exeunt.]
GENTLEMAN.So,Vex out your Lungs without doors. I am proud,It was my hap to help him; it fell fit.He went not empty neither for his wit.Alas, poor wretch, I could not blame his brainTo labour his delivery, to be freeFrom their unpitying fangs—I’m glad it stoodWithin my power to do a Scholar good.
[Exit.]
[Enter in the Prison, meeting, George and Captain, George coming in muffled.]
CAPTAIN.How now, who’s that? what are you?
PYE.The same that I should be, Captain.
CAPTAIN. George Pye-board, honest George? why camst thou in half fac’d, muffled so?
PYE. Oh, Captain, I thought we should ne’er ha laught again, never spent frolick hour again.
CAPTAIN.Why? why?
PYE.I coming to prepare thee, and with newsAs happy as thy quick delivery,Was trac’d out by the sent, arrested, Captain.
CAPTAIN.Arrested, George!
PYE. Arrested: gesse, gesse; how many Dogs do you think I’d upon me?
CAPTAIN.Dogs? I say? I know not.
PYE.Almost as many as George Stone the Bear:Three at once, three at once.
CAPTAIN.How didst thou shake ’em off, then?
PYE.The time is busy, and calls upon out wits.Let it suffice,Here I stand safe, and scapt by miracle.Some other hour shall tell thee, when we’ll steepOur eyes in laughter. Captain, my deviceLeans to thy happiness, for ere the dayBe spent toth’ Girdle, thou shalt be set free.The Corporal’s in his first sleep, the Chain is missed,Thy Kinsman has exprest thee, and the old KnightWith Palsey-hams now labours thy release:What rests is all in thee, to Conjure, Captain.
CAPTAIN. Conjure! sfoot, George, you know the devil a conjuring I can conjure.
PYE.The Devil of conjuring? Nay, by my fay, I’d not have theedo so much, Captain, as the Devil a conjuring: look here,I ha brought thee a circle ready charactered and all.
CAPTAIN. Sfoot, George, art in thy right wits? doost know what thou sayest? why doost talk to a Captain of conjuring? didst thou ever hear of a Captain conjure in thy life? doost cal’t a Circle? tis too wide a thing, me thinks: had it been a lesser Circle, then I knew what to have done.
PYE.Why, every fool knows that, Captain: nay, then, I’ll notcog with you, Captain; if you’ll stay and hang the nextSessions, you may.
CAPTAIN. No, by my faith, George: come, come, let’s to conjuring, let’s to conjuring.
PYE. But if you look to be released—as my wits have took pain to work it, and all means wrought to farther it— besides to put crowns in your purse, to make you a man of better hopes, and whereas before you were a Captain or poor Soldier, to make you now a Commander of rich fools, (which is truly the only best purchase peace can allow you) safer then High-ways, Heath, or Cunny-groves, and yet a far better booty; for your greatest thieves are never hangd, never hangd, for, why, they’re wise, and cheat within doors: and we geld fools of more money in one night, then your false tailed Gelding will purchase in a twelve-month’s running; which confirms the old Beldam saying, he’s wisest, that keeps himself warmest; that is, he that robs by a good fire—
CAPTAIN. Well opened, yfaith, George; thou has pulled that saying out of the husk.
PYE.Captain Idle, tis no time now to delude or delay: the oldKnight will be here suddenly. I’ll perfect you, directyou, tell you the trick on’t: tis nothing.
CAPTAIN. Sfoot, George, I know not what to say toot: conjure? I shall be hand ere I conjure.
PYE. Nay, tell not me of that, Captain; you’ll ne’er conjure after you’re hangd, I warrant you. Look you, sir, a parlous matter, sure! First, to spread your circle upon the ground, then, with a little conjuring ceremony, as I’ll have an Hackney-man’s wand silvered ore a purpose for you,—then arriving in the circle, with a huge word, and a great trample, as for instance:—have you never seen a stalking- stamping Player, that will raise a tempest with his tongue, and thunder with his heels?
CAPTAIN.O yes, yes, yes: often, often.
PYE. Why, be like such a one, for any thing will blear the old Knight’s eyes: for you must note that he’ll ne’er dare to venture into the room, only perhaps peep fearfully through the Key hold, to see how the Play goes forward.
CAPTAIN. Well, I may go about it when I will, but mark the end ont: I shall but shame my self, ifaith, George. Speak big words, and stamp and stare, and he look in at Key-hold! why, the very thought of that would make me laugh out-right, and spoil all: nay, I’ll tell thee, George, when I apprehend a thing once, I am of such a laxative laughter, that if the Devil him-self stood by, I should laugh in his face.
PYE. Puh, that’s but the babe of a man, and may easily be husht; as to think upon some disaster, some sad misfortune, as the death of thy Father ithe Country!
CAPTAIN. Sfoot, that would be the more to drive me into such an extasy, that I should ne’er lin laughing.
PYE.Why, then, think upon going to hanging else.
CAPTAIN. Mass, that’s well remembred; now I’ll do well, I warrant thee, ne’er fear me now: but how shall I do, George, for boisterous words, and horrible names?
PYE.Puh, any fustian invocations, Captain, will serve as wellas the best, so you rant them out well; or you may go to aPothecaries shop, and take all the words from the Boxes.
CAPTAIN. Troth, and you say true, George; there’s strange words enow to raise a hundred Quack-salvers, tho they be ne’er so poor when they begin. But here lies the fear on’t, how if in this false conjuration, a true Devil should pop up indeed?
PYE. A true Devil, Captain? why there was ne’er such a one: nay, faith, he that has this place is as false a Knave as our last Church-warden.
CAPTAIN.Then he’s false enough a conscience, ifaith, George.
[The Crie at Marshalsea.]
CRIE PRISONERS.Good Gentlemen over the way, send your relief. GoodGentlemen over the way,—Good sir Godfrey!
PYE.He’s come, he’s come.
NICHOLAS. Master, that’s my Kinsman yonder in the Buff-jerkin—Kinsman, that’s my Master yonder ith’ Taffetie Hat—pray salute him entirely!
[They salute: and Pye-board salutes Master Edmond.]
SIR GODFREY.Now, my friend.
PYE.May I pertake your name, sir?
EDMOND.My name is Master Edmond.
PYE.Master Edmond?—are you not a Welshman, sir?
EDMOND.A Welshman? why?
PYE. Because Master is your Christian name, and Edmond your sir name.
EDMOND. O no; I have more names at home: Master Edmond Plus is my full name at length.
PYE.O, cry you mercy, sir. [Whispering]
CAPTAIN. I understand that you are my Kinsman’s good Master, and in regard of that, the best of my skill is at your service: but had you fortuned a mere stranger, and made no means to me by acquaintance, I should have utterly denied to have been the man; both by reason of the act past in Parliament against Conjurers and Witches, as also, because I would not have my Art vulgar, trite, and common.
SIR GODFREY. I much commend your care therein, good Captain Conjurer, and that I will be sure to have it private enough, you shall doot in my Sister’s house,—mine own house, I may call it, for both our charges therein are proportioned.
CAPTAIN.Very good, sir—what may I call your loss, sir?
SIR GODFREY. O you may call’t a great loss, sir, a grievous loss, sir; as goodly a Chain of gold, tho I say it, that wore it: how sayest thou, Nicholas?
NICHOLAS.O ’twas as delicious a Chain a Gold! Kinsman, you know,—
SIR GODFREY.You know? did you know’t, Captain?
CAPTAIN. Trust a fool with secrets!—Sir, he may say I know: his meaning is, because my Art is such, that by it I may gather a knowledge of all things.
SIR GODFREY.Aye, very true.
CAPTAIN. A pax of all fools—the excuse struck upon my tongue like Ship-pitch upon a Mariner’s gown, not to come off in haste— Ber-lady, Knight, to loose such a fair Chain a gold were a foul loss. Well, I can put you in this good comfort on’t: if it be between Heaven and Earth, Knight, I’ll ha’t for you.
SIR GODFREY.A wonderful Conjurer!—O, aye, tis between heaven and earth,I warrant you; it cannot go out of the realm.—I know tissome-where above the earth.
CAPTAIN.Aye, nigher the earth then thou wotst on.
SIR GODFREY. For, first, my Chain was rich, and no rich thing shall enter into heaven, you know.
NICHOLAS. And as for the Devil, Master, he has no need on’t, for you know he ha’s a great chain of his own.
SIR GODFREY. Thou sayest true, Nicholas, but he has put off that now; that lies by him.
CAPTAIN. Faith, Knight, in few words, I presume so much upon the power of my Art; that I could warrant your Chain again.
SIR GODFREY.O dainty Captain!
CAPTAIN. Marry, it will cost me much sweat; I were better go to sixteen whot-houses.
SIR GODFREY.Aye, good man, I warrant thee.
CAPTAIN.Beside great vexation of Kidney and Liver.
NICHOLAS. O, twill tickle you here-abouts, Coozen, because you have not been used toot.
SIR GODFREY.No? have you not been used too’t, Captain?
CAPTAIN. Plague of all fools still!—Indeed, Knight, I have not used it a good while, and therefore twill strain me so much the more, you know.
SIR GODFREY.Oh, it will, it will.
CAPTAIN. What plunges he puts me to! were not this Knight a fool, I had been twice spoiled now; that Captain’s worse than accurst that has an ass to his Kinsman. Sfoot, I fear he will drivell’t out before I come toot.—Now, sir—to come to the point in deed—you see I stick here in the jaw of the Marshalsea, and cannot doo’t.
SIR GODFREY. Tut, tut, I know thy meaning; thou wouldst say thou’rt a prisoner. I tell thee thou’rt none.
CAPTAIN.How none? why, is not this the Marshallsea?
SIR GODFREY.Woult hear me speak? I hard of thy rare conjuring;My chain was lost; I sweat for thy release,As thou shalt do the like at home for me.Keeper.
[Enter Keeper.]
KEEPER.Sir.
SIR GODFREY.Speak, is not this man free?
KEEPER.Yes, at his pleasure, sir, the fee’s discharged.
SIR GODFREY.Go, go, I’ll discharge them I.
KEEPER.I thank your worship.
[Exit Keeper.]
CAPTAIN. Now, trust me, yar a dear Knight. Kindness unexpected! oh, there’s nothing to a free Gentle man.—I will conjure for you, sir, till Froth come through my Buff-jerkin!
SIR GODFREY, Nay, then thou shalt not pass with so little a bounty, for at the first sight of my chain again, Forty fine Angells shall appear unto thee.
CAPTAIN. Twil be a glorious show, ifaith, Knight, a very fine show; but are all these of your own house? are you sure of that, sir?
SIR GODFREY.Aye, aye—no, no, what’s he yonder, talking with my wildNephew? pray heaven, he give him good counsel.
CAPTAIN.Who, he? he’s a rare friend of mine, an admirable fellow,Knight, the finest fortune-teller.
SIR GODFREY. Oh, tis he indeed that came to my Lady sister, and foretold the loss of my chain. I am not angry with him now, for I see twas my fortune to loose it.—By your leave, Master Fortune-teller, I had a glimpse on you at home at my Sisters the Widdows, there you prophesied of the loss of a chain:—simply tho I stand here, I was he that lost it.
PYE.Was it you, sir?
EDMOND. A my troth, Nuckle, he’s the rarest fellow: has told me my fortune so right; I find it so right to my nature.
SIR GODFREY.What ist? God send it a good one!
EDMOND. O, tis a passing good one, Nuncle: for he says I shall prove such an excellent gamester in my time, that I shall spend all faster then my father got it.
SIR GODFREY.There’s a fortune, in deed!
EDMOND.Nay, it hits my humour so pat.
SIR GODFREY. Aye, that will be the end ont: will the Curse of the beggar prevail so much, that the son shall consume that foolishly, which the father got craftily? Aye, aye, aye; twill, twill, twill.
PYE.Stay, stay, stay.
[Pye-board with an Almanack and the Captain.]
CAPTAIN.Turn over, George.
PYE. June—July: here, July; that’s this month. Sunday thirteen, yester day forteen, to day fifteen.
CAPTAIN. Look quickly for the fifteen day:—if within the compass of these two days there would be some Boystrous storm or other, it would be the best, I’d defer him off till then: some tempest, and it be thy will.
PYE.Here’s the fifteen day—hot and fair.
CAPTAIN.Puh, would t’ad been hot and foul.
PYE. The sixteen day; that’s to morrow: the morning for the most part fair and pleasant—
CAPTAIN.No luck.
PYE.But about high-noon, lightning and thunder.
CAPTAIN. Lightning and thunder! admirable, best of all: I’ll conjure to morrow just at high noon, George.
PYE. Happen but true to morrow, Almanack, and I’ll give thee leave to lie all the year after.
CAPTAIN. Sir, I must crave your patience, to bestow this day upon me, that I may furnish my self strongly. I sent a spirit into Lancashire tother day, to fetch back a knave Drover, and I look for his return this evening. To morrow morning my friend here and I will come and break-fast with you.
SIR GODFREY.Oh, you shall be both most welcome.
CAPTAIN.And about Noon, without fail, I purpose to conjure.
SIR GODFREY.Mid noon will be a fine time for you.
EDMOND. Conjuring! do you mean to conjure at our house to morrow, sir?
CAPTAIN.Marry, do I, sir: tis my intent, young Gentleman.
EDMOND.By my troth, I’ll love you while I live fort. O rare,Nicholas, we shall have conjuring to morrow.
NICHOLAS.Puh! Aye, I could ha told you of that.
CAPTAIN. Law, he could ha told him of that! fool, cockscomb, could ye?
EDMOND. Do you hear me, sir? I desire more acquaintance on you: you shall earn some money of me, now I know you can conjure; but can you fetch any that is lost?
CAPTAIN.Oh, any thing that’s lost.
EDMOND. Why, look you, sir, I tel’t you as a friend and a Conjurer, I should marry a Poticaries daughter, and twas told me she lost her maidenhead at Stonie-stratford; now if you’ll do but so much as conjure fort, and make all whole again—
CAPTAIN.That I will, sir.
EDMOND.By my troth, I thanks you, la.
CAPTAIN.A little merry with your sister’s son, sir.
SIR GODFREY. Oh, a simple young man, very simple: come, Captain, and you, sir, we’ll e’en part with a gallon of wine till to morrow break-fast.
PYE AND CAPTAIN.Troth, agreed, sir.
NICHOLAS.Kinsman—Scholar?
PYE.Why, now thou art a good Knave, worth a hundred Brownists.
NICHOLAS.Am I indeed, la? I thank you truly, la.
[Exeunt.]
[Enter Moll, and Sir John Penny-dub.]
PENNY. But I hope you will not serve a Knight so, Gentlewoman, will you? to cashier him, and cast him off at your pleasure? what, do you thiunk I was dubbed for nothing? no, by my faith, Ladies daughter.
MOLL. Pray, Sir John Pennydub, let it be deferred awhile. I have as big a heart to marry as you can have; but as the Fortune- teller told me—
PENNY.Pax a’th Fortune-teller! would Derecke had been his fortuneseven year ago, to cross my love thus! did he know what caseI was in? why, this is able to make a man drown himself in’sFather’s fish-pond.
MOLL. And then he told me more-over, Sir John, that the breach of it kept my Father in Purgatory.
PENNY. In Purgatory? why let him purge out his heart there, what have we to do with that? there’s Philistions enow there to cast his water: is that any matter to us? how can he hinder our love? why, let him be hangd now he’s dead!—Well, have I rid my post day and night, to bring you merry news of my father’s death, and now—
MOLL.Thy Father’s death? is the old Faarmer dead?
PENNY.As dead as his Barn door, Moll.
MOLL. And you’ll keep your word with me now, Sir John, that I shall have my Coach and my Coach-man?
PENNY.Aye, faith.
MOLL.And two white Horses with black Feathers to draw it?
PENNY.Too.
MOLL. A guarded Lackey to run befor’t, and pied liveries to come trashing after’t.
PENNY.Thou shalt, Moll.
MOLL.And to let me have money in my purse to go whether I will.
PENNY.All this.
MOLL. Then come what so ere comes on’t, we’ll be made sure together before the Maids a’ the Kitchen.
[Exeunt.]
[Enter Widdow, with her eldest Daughter Frances and Frailty.]
WIDOW. How now? where’s my Brother, Sir Godfrey? went he forth this morning?
FRAILTY. O no, Madame, he’s above at break-fast, with, sir reverence, a Conjurer.
WIDOW.A Conjurer? what manner a fellow is he?
FRAILTY. Oh, a wondrous rare fellow, Mistress, very strongly made upward, for he goes in a Buff-jerkin: he says he will fetch Sir Godfrey’s Chain again, if it hang between heaven and earth.
WIDOW. What, he will not? then he’s an exlent fellow, I warrant. How happy were that woman to be blest with such a Husband! a man a cunning! how do’s he look, Frailty? very swartly, I warrant, with black beard, scorcht cheeks, and smoky eyebrows.
FRAILTY. Fooh, he’s neither smoke-dried, nor scorcht, nor black, nor nothing. I tell you, Madame, he looks as fair to see to, as one of us; I do not think but if you saw him once, you’d take him to be a Christian.
FRANCES.So fair, and yet so cunning: that’s to be wonderd at,Mother.
[Enter Sir Oliver Muck-hill, and Sir Andrew Tip-staff.]
MUCK.Bless you, sweet Lady.
TIP.And you, fair Mistress.
[Exit Frailty.]
WIDOW. Coades? what do you mean, Gentlemen? fie, did I not give you your answers?
MUCK.Sweet Lady.
WIDOW.Well, I will not stick with you now for a kiss.Daughter, kiss the Gentleman for once.
FRANCES.Yes, forsooth.
TIP.I’m proud of such a favour.
WIDOW. Truly la, sir Oliver, y’are much to blame to come again, when you know my mind, so well deliverd as a Widdow could deliver a thing.
MUCK.But I expect a farther comfort, Lady.
WIDOW. Why la you now, did I not desire you to put off your suit quite and clean, when you came to me again? how say you? did I not?
MUCK.But the sincere love which my heart bears you—
WIDOW. Go to, I’ll cut you off: and Sir Oliver, to put you in comfort a far off, my fortune is read me: I must marry again.
MUCK.O blest fortune!
WIDOW.But not as long as I can choose;—nay, I’ll hold out well.
MUCK.Yet are my hopes now fairer.
[Enter Frailty.]
FRAILTY.O Madam, Madam.
WIDOW.How now, what’s the haste?
[In her ear.]
TIP. Faith, Mistress Frances, I’ll maintain you gallantly. I’ll bring you to Court, wean you among the fair society of ladies, poor Kinswomen of mine, in cloth of silver: beside, you shall have your Monkey, your Parrot, your Muskrat, and your pisse, pisse, pisse.
FRANCES.It will do very well.
WIDOW. What, dos he mean to conjure here then? how shall I do be rid of these Knights?—Please you, Gentlemen, to walk a while ith Garden: go gather a pink, or a Lily-flower.
BOTH.With all our hearts, Lady, and court us favourd.
[Exit. Within Sir Godfrey.]
SIR GODFREY.Step in, Nicholas; look, is the coast clear.
NICHOLAS.Oh, as clear as a Cat’s eye, sir.
SIR GODFREY. Then enter, Captain Conjurer:—now—how like you your Room, sir?
[Enter Sir Godfrey, Captain Pye-board, Edmond, Nicholas.]
CAPTAIN.O, wonderful convenient.
EDMOND. I can tell you, Captain, simply tho it lies here, tis the fairest Room in my Mother’s house: as dainty a Room to Conjure in, me thinks—why, you may bid, I cannot tell how many devils welcome in’t; my Father has had twenty here at once.
PYE.What, devils?
EDMOND.Devils? no, Deputies, and the wealthiest men he could get.
SIR GODFREY. Nay, put by your chats now, fall to your business roundly: the feskewe of the Dial is upon the Chrisse-crosse of Noon, but oh, hear me, Captain, a qualm comes ore my stomach.
CAPTAIN.Why, what’s the matter, sir?
SIR GODFREY. Oh, how if the devil should prove a knave, and tear the hangings?
CAPTAIN.Fuh, I warrant you, Sir Godfrey.
EDMOND.Aye, Nuncle, or spit fire up’oth ceiling!
SIR GODFREY. Very true, too, for tis but thin plastered, and twill quickly take hold a the laths, and if he chance to spit downward too, he will burn all the boards.
CAPTAIN.My life for yours, Sir Godfrey.
SIR GODFREY. My Sister is very curious and dainty ore this Room, I can tell, and therefore if he must needs spit, I pray desire him to spit ith Chimney.
PYE. Why, assure you, Sir Godfrey, he shall not be brought up with so little manners to spit and spaul a’th flower.
SIR GODFREY. Why, I thank you, good Captain; pray have a care. Aye, fall to your Circle; we’ll not trouble you, I warrant you: come, we’ll in to the next Room, and be cause we’ll be sure to keep him out there, we’ll bar up the door with some of the Godlies zealous work.
EDMOND. That will be a find device, Nuncle, and because the ground shall be as holy as the door, I’ll tear two or three rosaries in pieces, and strew the leaves about the Chamber.
[Thunders.]
Oh, the devil already.
[Runs in.]
PYE. Sfoot, Captain, speak somewhat for shame; it lightens and thunders before thou wilt begin: why, when?
CAPTAIN. Pray, peace, George,—thou’lt make me laugh anon and spoil all.
PYE.Oh, now it begins again: now, now, now, Captain.
CAPTAIN.Rumbos—ragdayon, pur, pur, colucundrion, Hois-Plois.
SIR GODFREY.Oh admirable Conurer! has fetcht Thunder already:
[Sir Godfrey through the keyhole; within.]
PYE.Hark, hark! again, Captain!
CAPTAIN.Benjamino,—gaspois—kay—gosgothoteron—umbrois.
SIR GODFREY. Oh, I would the devil would come away quickly, he has no conscience to put a man to such pain.
PYE.Again!
CAPTAIN.Floste—Kakopumpos—dragone—Leloomenos—hodge—podge.
PYE.Well said, Captain.
SIR GODFREY. So long a coming? oh, would I had ne’er begun’t now, for I fear me these roaring tempests will destroy all the fruits of the earth, and tread upon my corn—oh!—ith Country.
CAPTAIN. Gog de gog, hobgoblin, huncks, hounslow, hockley te coome parke.
WIDOW.[At the door.] O brother, brother, what a tempests ithGarden: sure there’s some conjuration abroad.
SIR GODFREY.Tis at home, sister!
PYE.By and by, I’ll step in, Captain.
CAPTAIN.Nunck—Nunck—Rip—Gascoynes, Ipis, Drip—Dropite.
SIR GODFREY.He drips and drops, poor man! alas, alas.
PYE.Now I come.
CAPTAIN.O Sulphure Sooteface—
PYE.Arch-conjurer, what wouldst thou with me?
SIR GODFREY. O the devil, sister, ith dining Chamber! sing, Sister, I warrant you that will keep him out: quickly, quickly, quickly.
[Goes in.]
PYE. So, so, so, I’ll release thee: ynough, Captain, ynough; allow us some time to laugh a little: they’re shuddering and shaking by this time, as if an Earth-quake were in their kidneys.
CAPTAIN.Sirrah, Goerge, how wast, how wast? did I doo’t well ynough?
PYE. Woult believe me, Captain? better then any Conjurer, for here was no harm in this, and yet their horrible expectation satisfied well. You were much beholding to thunder and lightning at this time: it gracst you well I can tell you.
CAPTAIN. I must needs say so, George. Sirrah, if we could ha convoid hither cleanly a cracker or a fire-wheel t’ad been admirable.
PYE.Blurt, blurt! there’s nothing remains to put thee to pain now,Captain.
CAPTAIN.Pain? I protest, George, my heels are sorer, then a WhitsonMorris-dancer.
PYE. All’s past now,—only to reveal that the chains ith Garden where thou knowst it has lain these two days.
CAPTAIN.But I fear that fox Nicholas has revealed it already.
PYE. Fear not, Captain, you must put it to’th venture now. Nay, tis time: call upon e’m, take pity on e’m, for I believe some of ’em are in a pitiful case by this time.
CAPTAIN. Sir Godfrey? Nicholas, Kinsman—Sfoot, they’re fast at it still, George. Sir Godfrey!
SIR GODFREY.Oh, is that the devil’s voice? how comes he to know my name?
CAPTAIN.Fear not, Sir Godfrey, all’s quieted.
SIR GODFREY.What, is he laid?
CAPTAIN.Laid; and has newly dropt your chain ith Garden.
SIR GODFREY.Ith Garden! in our Garden?
CAPTAIN.Your Garden.
SIR GODFREY.O sweet Conjurer! where abouts there?
CAPTAIN.Look well about a bank of Rosemary.
SIR GODFREY. Sister, the Rosemary bank! come, come, there’s my chain, he says.
WIDOW.Oh happiness! run, run.
[Supposed to go.]
EDMOND.Captain Conjurer?
[Edmond at keyhole.]
CAPTAIN.Who? Master Edmond?
EDMOND. Aye, Master Edmond: may I come in safely, without danger, think you?
CAPTAIN. Fuh, long ago: tis all as twas at first. Fear nothing, pray come near—how now, man?
EDMOND. Oh this Room’s mightily hot, ifaith: slid, my shirt sticks to my Belly already. What a steam the Rogue has left behind him! foh, this room must be aired, Gentlemen; it smells horribly of Brimstone—let’s open the windows.
PYE.Faith, master Edmond, tis but your conceit.
EDMOND. I would you could make me believe that, ifaith. Why, do you think I cannot smell his savour from another? yet I take it kindly from you, because you would not put me in a fear, ifaith; a my troth, I shall love you for this the longest day of my life.
CAPTAIN.Puh, tis nothing, sir: love me when you see more.
EDMOND. Mass, now I remember, I’ll look whether he has singed the hangings or no.
PYE. Captain, to entertain a little sport till they come, make him believe you’ll charm him invisible: he’s apt to admire any thing, you see. Let him alone to give force too’te.
CAPTAIN.Go, retire to yonder end then.
EDMOND.I protest you are a rare fellow, are you not?
CAPTAIN. O master Edmond, you know but the least part of me yet: why, now at this instant I could but florish my wand thrice o’er your head, and charm you invisible.
EDMOND. What, you could not? make me walk invisible, man! I should laugh at that, ifaith; troth, I’ll requite your kindness and you’ll do’t, good Captain conjurer.
CAPTAIN.Nay, I should hardly deny you such a small kindness, MasterEdmond Plus: why, look you, sir, tis no more but this and thusand again, and now yar invisible!
EDMOND.Am I, ifaith? who would think it?
CAPTAIN. You see the fortune-teller yonder at farder end ath chamber: go toward him, do what you will with him; he shall ne’er find you.
EDMOND.Say you so? I’ll try that, ifaith,—
[Justles him.]
PYE.How now? Captain, who’s that justled me?
CAPTAIN.Justled you? I saw no body.
EDMOND.Ha, ha, ha!—say twas a spirit.
CAPTAIN.Shall I?—may be some spirit that haunts the circle.
[Edmond pulls him by the Nose.]
PYE.O my nose again! pray conjure then, Captain.
EDMOND.Troth, this is exlent; I may do any knavery now and never beSeen,—and now I remember me, Sir Godfrey my Uncle abused meTother day, and told tales of me to my Mother—Troth, now I’mInvisible, I’ll hit him a sound wherrit ath’ ear, when hecomes out ath’ garden.—I may be revengd on him now finely.
[Enter Sir Godfrey, Widdow, Frances, Nicholas with the Chain.]
SIR GODFREY.I have my Chain again, my Chain’s found again. O sweetCaptain, O admirable Conjurer. [Edmond strikes him.] Oh!what mean you by that, Nephew?
EDMOND.Nephew? I hope you do not know me, Uncle?
WIDOW.Why did you strike your Uncle, sir?
EDMOND.Why, Captain, am I not invisible?
CAPTAIN.A good jest, George!—not now you are not, Sir.Why, did you not see me when I did uncharm you?
EDMOND.Not I by my troth, Captain. Then pray you pardon me, Uncle;I thought I’d been invisible when I struck you.
SIR GODFREY.So, you would doo’t? go,—y’are a foolish Boy,And were I not o’er-come with greater joy,I’d make you taste correction.
EDMOND. Correction, push!—no, neither you nor my Mother shall think to whip me as you have done.
SIR GODFREY. Captain, my joy is such, I know not how to thank you: let me embrace you, hug you. O my sweet Chain! Gladness ’een makes me giddy. Rare man! twas as just ith’ Rosemary bank, as if one should ha’ laid it there—oh, cunning, cunning!
WIDOW. Well, seeing my fortune tells me I must marry, let me marry a man of wit, a man of parts. Here’s a worthy Captain, and ’tis a fine Title truly la to be a Captain’s Wife. A Captain’s Wife, it goes very finely; beside all the world knows that a worthy Captain is a fit Companion to any Lord, then why not a sweet bed-fellow for any Lady,—I’ll have it so—
[Enter Frailty.]
FRAILTY. O Mistress, Gentlemen, there’s the bravest sight coming along this way.
WIDOW.What brave sight?
FRAILTY.Oh, one going to burying, & another going to hanging.
WIDOW.A rueful sight.
PYE. Sfoot, Captain, I’ll pawn my life the Corporal’s confined, and old Skirmish the soldier going to execution, and ’tis now full about the time of his waking; hold out a little longer, sleepy potion, and we shall have exlent admiration; for I’ll take upon me the cure of him.
[Enter the Coffin of the Corporal, the soldier bound, andlead by Officers, the Sheriff there. From the house, SirGodfrey, the Widow, Idle, Pyeboard, Edmond, Frailty, andNicholas.]
FRAILTY.Oh here they come, here they come!
PYE. Now must I close secretly with the Soldier, prevent his impatience, or else all’s discovered.
WIDOW. O lamentable seeing! these were those Brothers, that fought and bled before our door.
SIR GODFREY.What, they were not, Sister?
SKIRMISH.George, look toot, I’ll peach at Tyburn else.
PYE.Mum,—Gentles all, vouchsafe me audience, and you especially,Master Sheriff:Yon man is bound to execution,Because he wounded this that now lies coffined?
SHERIFF.True, true; he shall have the law,—and I know the law.
PYE. But under favour, Master Sheriff, if this man had been cured and safe again, he should have been released then?
SHERIFF.Why make you question of that, Sir?
PYE. Then I release him freely, and will take upon me the death that he should die, if within a little season, I do not cure him to his proper health again.
SHERIFF.How Sir? recover a dead man?That were most strange of all.
[Frances comes to him.]
FRANCES. Sweet Sir, I love you dearly, and could wish my best part yours,—oh do not undertake such an impossible venture.
PYE.Love you me? then for your sweet sake I’ll doo’t:Let me entreat the corpse to be set down.
SHERIFF. Bearers, set down the Coffin.—This were wonderful, and worthy Stoes Chronicle.
PYE. I pray bestow the freedom of the air upon our wholesome Art.— Mass, his cheeks begin to receive natural warmth: nay, good Corporal, wake betime, or I shall have a longer sleep then you.—Sfoot, if he should prove dead indeed now, he were fully revenged upon me for making a property on him, yet I had rather run upon the Ropes, then have the Rope like a Tetter run upon me. Oh—he stirs—he stirs again—look, Gentlemen, he recovers, he starts, he rises.
SHERIFF.Oh, oh, defend us!—out, alas.
PYE. Nay, pray be still; you’ll make him more giddy else:—he knows no body yet.
CORPORAL.Zounes: where am I? covered with Snow? I marvel.
PYE. Nay, I knew he would swear the first thing he did, as soon as ever he came to life again.
CORPORAL. Sfoot, Hostess, some hot Porridge,—oh, oh, lay on a dozen of Fagots in the Moon parlor, there.
PYE. Lady, you must needs take a little pity of him, yfaith, and send him in to your Kitchen fire.
WIDOW. Oh, with all my heart, sir. Nicholas and Frailty, help to bear him in.
NICHOLAS. Bear him in, quatha? pray call out the Maids, I shall ne’er have the heart to doo’t, indeed la.
FRAILTY.Nor I neither, I cannot abide to handle a Ghost of all men.
CORPORAL.Sblood, let me see: where was I drunk last night, heh—
WIDOW.Oh, shall I bid you once again take him away?
FRAILTY.Why, we’re as fearful as you, I warrant you—oh—
WIDOW. Away, villains; bid the Maids make him a Cawdle presently to settle his brain,—or a Posset of Sack; quickly, quickly.
[Exeunt Frailty and Nicholas, pushing in the corpses.]
SHERIFF.Sir, what so ere you are, I do more then admire you.
WIDOW. O, aye, if you knew all, Master Sheriff, as you shall do, you would say then, that here were two of the rarest men within the walls of Christendome.
SHERIFF. Two of ’em? O wonderful. Officers, I discharge you, set him free, all’s in tune.
SIR GODFREY. Aye, and a banquet ready by this time, Master Sheriff, to which I most cheerfully invite you, and your late prisoner there. see you this goodly chain, sir? mun, no more words, twas lost, and is found again; come, my inestimable bullies, we’ll talk of your noble Acts in sparkling Charnico, and in stead of a Jester, we’ll ha the ghost ith white sheet sit at upper end a’th Table.
SHERIFF.Exlent merry, man, yfaith.
[Exeunt all but Frances.]
FRANCES.Well, seeing I am enjoined to love and marry,My foolish vow thus I cashier to AirWhich first begot it.—Now, love, play thy part;The scholar reads his lecture in my heart.
[Exit.]
SCEN. I. The street before the Widow’s house.
[Enter in haste Master Edmond and Frailty.]
EDMOND.This is the marriage morning for my mother and my sister.
FRAILTY.O me, Master Edmund; we shall ha rare doings.
EDMOND. Nay, go, Frailty, run to the Sexton; you know my mother will be married at Saint Antlings. Hie thee, tis past five; bid them open the Church door; my sister is almost ready.
FRAILTY.What, all ready, Master Edmond?
EDMOND.Nay, go, hie thee: first run to the Sexton, and run to theClarke, and then run to Master Pigman the Parson, and thenrun to the Milliner, and then run home again.
FRAILTY.Here’s run, run, run—
EDMOND.But hark, Frailty.
FRAILTY.What, more yet?
EDMOND.Has the maids remembered to strew the way to the Church.
FRAILTY.Fagh, an hour ago; I helpt ’em my self.
EDMOND.Away, away, away, away then.