Wid.

How now? Where's my brother sir Godfrey? Went he forth this morning?

Frail.

O no madam; he's above at breakfast, with (sir reverence) a conjurer.

Wid.

A conjurer! What manner of fellow is he?

Frail.

O, 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.

Wid.

What! he will not? Then he's an excellent fellow, I warrant. How happy were that woman to be blest with such a husband! A cunning man! How does he look, Frailty? Very swartly, I warrant; with black beard, scorch'd cheeks, and smoky eyebrows.

Frail.

Fo! He's neither smoke-dried, nor scorch'd, nor black, nor nothing. I tell you, madam, 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.

Fran.

So fair, and yet so cunning! that's to be wonder'd at, mother.

Enter Sir Oliver Muckhill, and Sir Andrew Tipstaff.

Sir Oliv.

Bless you, sweet lady.

Sir And.

And you, fair mistress.

Wid.

Coades^{9 note}, what do you mean, gentlemen? Fie, did I not give you your answers?

Sir Oliv.

Sweet lady.

Wid.

Well, I will not stick with you for a kiss: daughter, kiss the gentleman for once.

Fran.

Yes, forsooth.

Sir And.

I'm proud of such a favour.

Wid.

Truly la, sir Oliver, you're much too blame, to come again when you know my mind so well delivered as a widow could deliver a thing.

Sir Oliv.

But I expect a further comfort, lady.

Wid.

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?

Sir Oliv.

But the sincere love which my heart bears you—

Wid.

Go to, I'll cut you off:—And sir Oliver to put you in comfort afar off, my fortune is read me; I must marry again.

Sir Oliv.

O blest fortune!

Wid.

But not as long as I can choose:—nay, I'll hold out well.

Sir Oliv.

Yet are my hopes now fairer.

Frail.

O madam, madam.

Wid.

How now? what's the haste?

Sir And.

'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 musk-cat, and your piss, piss, piss^{1 note}.

Fran.

It will do very well.

Wid.

What, does he mean to conjure here then? How shall I do to be rid of these knights?—Please you, gentlemen, to walk a while in the garden, to gather a pink, or a gilly-flower?

Both.

With all our hearts, lady, and 'count us favour'd.

Sir God. [within.]

Step in, Nicholas; look, is the coast clear.

Nich. [within.]

O, as clear as a cat's eye, sir^{2 note}.

Sir God. [within]

Then enter Captain Conjurer.

Now, how like you your room, sir?

Idle.

O, wonderful convenient.

Edm.

I can tell you, captain, simply though it lies here^{3 note}, 'tis the fairest room in my mother's house: as dainty a room to conjure in, methinks— Why you may bid, I cannot tell how many devils welcome in't; my father has had twenty in't at once.

Pye.

What! devils?

Edm.

Devils! no; deputies,—and the wealthiest men he could get.

Sir God.

Nay, put by your chats now; fall to your business roundly: the fescue of the dial is upon the christ-cross of noon^{4 note}

Idle.

Why, what's the matter, sir?

Sir God.

O, how if the devil should prove a knave, and tear the hangings!

Idle.

Foh! I warrant you, sir Godfrey.

Edm.

Ay, nuncle, or spit fire upon the cieling?

Sir God.

Very true too, for 'tis but thin plaister'd, and 'twill quickly take hold o' the laths; and if he chance to spit downward too, he will burn all the boards.

Idle.

My life for yours, sir Godfrey.

Sir God.

My sister is very curious and dainty of this room, I can tell you; and therefore if he must needs spit, I pray desire him to spit in the chimney.

Pye.

Why, assure you, sir Godfrey, he shall not be brought up with so little manners, to spit and spawl o'the floor.

Sir God.

Why I thank you, good captain; pray have a care. [Idle and Pyeboard retire to the upper end of the room.] Ay, fall to your circle; we'll not trouble you I warrant you. Come, we'll into the next room; and because we'll be sure to keep him out there, we'll bar up the door with some of the godly's zealous works.

Edm.

That will be a fine device, nuncle; and because

the ground shall be as holy as the door, I'll tear two or three rosaries^{5 note} in pieces, and strew the pieces about the chamber. [Lightning and thunder] Oh! the devil already.

Pye.

'Sfoot, captain, speak somewhat for shame: it lightens and thunders before thou wilt begin. Why when—

Idle.

Pray peace, George; thou'lt make me laugh anon, and spoil all.

Pye.

O, now it begins again; now, now, now, captain.

Idle.

Rhumbos ragdayon pur pur colucundrion hois plois^{6 note}

Sir God. [at the door.]

O admirable conjurer! he has fetch'd thunder already.

Pye.

Hark, hark!—again captain.

Idle.

Benjamino gaspois kay gosgothoteron umbrois.

Sir God. [at the door.]

O, I would the devil would come away quickly; he has no conscience to put a man to such pain.

Pye.

Again.

Idle.

Flowste kakopumpos dragone leloomenos hodge podge.

Pye.

Well said, captain.

Sir God. [at the door.]

So long a coming? O, would I had ne'er begun it now! for I fear me these roaring

tempests will destroy all the fruits of the earth, and tread upon my corn—[thunder] oh—in the country.

Idle.

Gogdegog hobgoblin hunks hounslow hockleyte coomb-park.

Wid. [at the door.]

O brother, brother, what a tempest's in the garden! Sure there's some conjuration abroad.

Sir God. [at the door.]

'Tis at home, sister.

Pye.

By and by I'll step in, captain.

Idle.

Nunc nunc rip-gaskins ips drip—dropite—* ^note

Sir God. [at the door.]

He drips and drops, poor man: alas, alas!

Pye.

Now, I come.

Idle.

O—sulphure sootface.

Pye.

Arch-conjurer, what wouldest thou with me?

Sir God. [at the door.]

O, the devil, sister, in the dining-chamber! Sing, sister; I warrant you that will keep him out:—quickly, quickly, quickly.

Pye.

So, so, so; I'll release thee. Enough captain, enough; allow us some time to laugh a little: They're shuddering and shaking by this time, as if an earthquake were in their kidneys.

Idle.

Sirrah George, how was't, how was't? Did I do't well enough?

Pye.

Woult believe me, captain? better than any conjurer; for here was no harm in this, and yet their horrible expectation satisfied well. You were much beholden to thunder and lightning at this time; it grac'd you well, I can tell you.

Idle.

I must needs say so, George. Sirrah, if we could have convey'd hither cleanly a cracker or a fire-wheel, it had been admirable.

Pye.

Blurt, blurt! there's nothing remains to put thee to pain now, captain.

Idle.

Pain? I protest, George, my heels are sorer than a Whitsun morris-dancer's.

Pye.

All's past now; only to reveal that the chain's in the garden, where thou know'st it has lain these two days.

Idle.

But I fear that fox Nicholas has reveal'd it already.

Pye.

Fear not, captain; you must put it to the venture now. Nay 'tis time; call upon them, take pity on them; for I believe some of them are in a pitiful case by this time.

Idle.

Sir Godfrey, Nicholas, kinsman. 'Sfoot they're fast at it still, George.—Sir Godfrey.

Sir God. [at the door.]

O, is that the devil's voice? How comes he to know my name?

Idle.

Fear not, sir Godfrey; all's quieted.

Sir God.

What, is he laid?

Idle.

Laid; and has newly dropp'd your chain in the garden.

Sir God.

In the garden? in our garden?

Idle.

Your garden.

Sir God.

O sweet conjurer! whereabouts there?

Idle.

Look well about a bank of rosemary.

Sir God.

Sister, the rosemary bank. Come, come; there's my chain, he says.

Wid.

Oh, happiness! run, run.

Edm. [at the door.]

Captain Conjurer?

Idle.

Who? Master Edmond?

Edm.

Ay, master Edmond. May I come in safely without danger, think you?

Idle.

Puh, long ago; it is all as 'twas at first. Fear nothing; pray come near: how now, man?

Enter Edmond.

Edm.

O! this room's mightily hot i'faith. 'Slid, my shirt sticks to my belly already. What a steam the rogue has left behind him^{7 note}

! Foh! this room must be air'd, gentlemen; it smells horribly of brimstone: let's open the windows.

Pye.

'Faith, master Edmond, 'tis but your conceit.

Edm.

I would you could make me believe that, i'faith. 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, i'faith. On my troth I shall love you for this the longest day of my life.

Idle.

Puh, 'tis nothing, sir; love me when you see more.

Edm.

Mass, now I remember, I'll look whether he has sing'd 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 me alone to give force to it.

Idle.

Go; retire to yonder end then.

Edm.

I protest you are a rare fellow; are you not?

Idle.

O master Edmond, you know but the least part of me yet. Why now at this instant I could but flourish my wand thrice o'er your head, and charm you invisible.

Edm.

What! you could not? make me walk invisible, man! I should laugh at that i'faith. Troth, I'll requite your kindness, an you'll do't, good Captain Conjurer.

Idle.

Nay, I should hardly deny you such a small kindness, master Edmond Plus. Why, look you, sir, 'tis no more but this, and thus, and again, and now you're invisible.

Edm.

Am I i'faith? Who would think it?

Idle.

You see the fortune-teller yonder at farther end o'the chamber. Go toward him; do what you will with him, he shall ne'er find you.

Edm.

Say you so? I'll try that i'faith.

Pye.

How now, captain? Who's that justled me?

Idle.

Justled you? I saw nobody.

Edm.

Ha, ha, ha! Say 'twas a spirit.

Idle.

Shall I?—May be some spirit that haunts the circle.

Pye.

O my nose, again! Pray conjure then, captain.

Edm.

Troth, this is excellent; I may do any knavery now, and never be seen. And now I remember, sir Godfrey, my uncle, abus'd me t'other day, and told tales of me to my mother. Troth now I'm invisible, I'll hit him a sound wherret on the ear, when he comes out o'the garden. I may be reveng'd on him now finely.

Sir God.

I have my chain again; my chain's found again. O sweet captain! O admirable conjurer! [Edmond strikes him.] Oh! what mean you by that, nephew?

Edm.

Nephew? I hope you do not know me, uncle?

Wid.

Why did you strike your uncle, sir?

Edm.

Why, captain, am I not invisible?

Idle.

A good jest, George.—Not now you are not, sir. Why did not you see me, when I did uncharm you?

Edm.

Not I, by my troth, captain.—Then pray you pardon me, uncle; I thought I'd been invisible when I struck you.

Sir God.
So, you would do't? Go, you're a foolish boy;
And were I not o'ercome with greater joy,
I'd make you taste correction.

Edm.

Correction! pish. No, neither you nor my mother shall think to whip me as you have done.

Sir God.

Captain, my joy is such, I know not how to thank you: let me embrace you. O my sweet chain! gladness e'en makes me giddy. Rare man! 'twas just i'the rosemary-bank, as if one should have laid it there. O cunning, cunning!

Wid.

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.

Frail.

O mistress—gentlemen—there's the bravest sight coming along this way.

Wid.

What brave sight?

Frail.

O, one going to burying, and another going to hanging.

Wid.

A rueful sight.

Pye.

'Sfoot, captain, I'll pawn my life the corporal's coffin'd, 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 excellent admiration; for I'll take upon me the cure of him.

SCENE III. The street before the Widow's house. Enter, from the house, Sir Godfrey, the Widow, Idle, Pyeboard, Edmond, Frailty, and Nicholas. A coffin with Corporal Oath in it, brought in. Then enter Skirmish bound, and led in by Officers; the Sheriff, &c. attending.

Frail.

O here they come, here they come!

Pye.

Now must I close secretly with the soldier; prevent his impatience, or else all's discovered.

Wid.

O lamentable seeing! These were those brothers, that fought and bled before our door.

Sir God.

What! they were not, sister?

Skir.

George, look to't; I'll peach at Tyburn else.

Pye.
Mum.—Gentles all, vouchsafe me audience,
And you especially, good master sheriff:
Yon man is bound to execution,
Because he wounded this that now lies coffin'd.

Sher.

True, true; he shall have the law,—and I know the law.

Pye.

But under favour, master sheriff, if this man had been cur'd and safe again, he should have been releas'd then?

Sher.

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^{8 note}
.

Sher.

How, sir! recover a dead man? That were most strange of all.

Fran.

Sweet sir, I love you dearly, and could wish my best part yours. O do not undertake such an impossible venture!

Pye.

Love you me? Then for your sweet sake I'll do't. Let me entreat the corpse to be set down.

Sher.

Bearers, set down the coffin. This were wonderful, and worthy Stowe's Chronicle.

Pye.

I pray bestow the freedom of the air upon our wholsome art. Mass his cheeks begin to receive natural warmth. Nay, good corporal, wake betime, or I shall have a longer sleep than you. 'Sfoot, if he should prove dead indeed now, he were fully reveng'd upon me for making a property of him: yet I had rather run upon the ropes* ^note

Sher.

O, O, defend us! Out, alas!

Pye.

Nay, pray be still; you'll make him more giddy else. He knows nobody yet.

Oath.

'Zounds, where am I? Cover'd with snow! I marvel.

Pye.

Nay, I knew he would swear the first thing he did as soon as ever he came to his life again.

Oath.

'Sfoot, hostess, some hot porridge. O, O!—lay on a dozen of faggots in the Moon parlour, there.

Pye.

Lady, you must needs take a little pity of him i'faith, and send him in to your kitchen fire.

Wid.

O, with all my heart, sir: Nicholas and Frailty, help to bear him in.

Nich.

Bear him in, quoth-a! Pray call out the maids; I shall ne'er have the heart to do't, indeed la.

Frail.

Nor I neither; I cannot abide to handle a ghost, of all men.

Oath.

'Sblood, let me see—where was I drunk last night? heh?

Wid.

O, shall I bid you once again take him away?

Frail.

Why we are as fearful as you, I warrant you. Oh.

Wid.

Away, villains! bid the maids make him a caudle presently, to settle his brain,—or a posset of sack; quickly, quickly.

Sher.

Sir, whatsoe'er you are, I do more than admire you.

Wid.

O ay, 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 Christendom.

Sher.

Two of them? O wonderful! Officers, I discharge you; set him free; all's in tune.

Sir God.

Ay, 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? Mum! no more words; 'twas lost and is found again. Come, my inestimable bullies, we'll talk of your noble acts in sparkling charnico^{1 note}; and instead of a jester, we'll have the ghost in the white sheet sit at the upper end of the table^{2 note}

Sher.

Excellent, merry man, i'faith!

Fran.
Well, seeing I am enjoin'd to love, and marry,
My foolish vow thus I cashier to air,
Which first begot it. Now, Love, play thy part;
The scholar reads his lecture in my heart. [Exit.

Previous section

Next section