་ enamelled with the heart-blood of thy hated wife, my beloved daughter! What say'st thou to this evidence? is 't not sharp? does 't not strike home? thou canst not answer honestly, and without a trembling heart, to this one point, this terrible bloody point. Win. I beseech you, sir, Strike him no more; you see he's dead already. Car. Oh, sir! you held his horses; you are as arrant a rogue as he: up go you too. Frank. As you 're a man, throw not upon that woman Your loads of tyranny, for she is innocent. Car. How? how? a woman! Win. I am not as my disguise speaks me, sir, his page; But his first, only wife, his lawful wife. Car. How? how? more fire i' the bed-straw !! Win. The wrongs which singly fell upon your daughter, On me are multiplied; she lost a life; But I a husband and myself must lose, If you call him to a bar for what he has done. Win. Yes, 't is confess'd to me. Win. Oh pardon me, dear heart! I am mad to lose thee, And know not what I speak; but if thou didst, Adultery and murder. Re-enter KATHERINE. Kath. Sir, they are come. Car. Arraign me for what thou wilt, all Middlesex knows me better for an honest man, than the middle 1 More fire the bed-straw!] A proverbial expression for more concealed mischief!-GIFFORD. of a marketplace knows thee for an honest woman. Rise, sirrah, and don your tacklings; rig yourself for the gallows, or I'll carry thee thither on my back your trull shall to the jail with you; there be as fine Newgate birds as she, that can draw him in: out on's wounds! Frank. I have serv'd thee, and my wages now are paid; Yet my worst punishment shall, I hope, be stayed. [Exeunt. 1 ACT V. SCENE I. The Witch's Cottage. Enter Mother SAWYER. Saw. Still wrong'd by every slave! and not a dog Thus to be scorn'd? Not see me in three days! Raking my blood up, till my shrunk knees feel If in the air thou hover'st, fall upon me In some dark cloud; and as I oft have seen 1 Revenge to me is sweeter far than life.] At vindicta bonum vita jucundius. I have already observed on the incongruous language put into the mouth of our village witch. Either of the poets could have written down to her vulgar estimation, but they appear to entertain some indistinct notion of raising her character. This soliloquy, which is a very fine one, might have been pronounced by a Sagana, or a Canidia. -GIFFORD. Dragons and serpents in the elements, Appear thou now so to me! Art thou i' the sea? And be the ugliest of them; so that my bulch' Sanctibicetur nomen tuum. Not yet come! the worrying of wolves, biting of mad dogs, and the Enter Doa, white. Dog. How now! whom art thou cursing? Saw. Thee! Ha! no, 't is my black cur I am cursing, For not attending on me. Dog. I am that cur. Saw. Thou liest: hence! come not nigh me. Saw. Why dost thou thus appear to me in white, As if thou wert the ghost of my dear love? Dog. I am dogg'd, and list not to tell thee;-yet, -to torment thee,-my whiteness puts thee in mind of thy winding-sheet. Saw. Am I near death? Dog. Yes, if the dog of hell be near thee; when the Devil comes to thee as a lamb, have at thy throat! Saw. Off, cur! Dog. He has the back of a sheep, but the belly of an otter; devours by sea and land. "Why am I in white?" didst thou not pray to me? Saw. Yes, thou dissembling hell-hound; Why now in white more than at other times? 1 So that my bulch.]-Literally, a calf; sometimes used, as here, as an expression of kindness; but generally indicative of familiarity and contempt.-GIFFORD. Dog. Be blasted with the news! whiteness is day's footboy, a forerunner to light, which shows thy old rivell'd face: villanies are stripp'd naked; the witch must be beaten out of her cockpit. Saw. Must she? she shall not; thou'rt a lying spirit: Why to mine eyes art thou a flag of truce? I am at peace with none; 't is the black colour Are far more hot than they which flame outright. Dog. I will not. Saw. I'll sell myself to twenty thousand fiends, To have thee torn in pieces then. Dog. Thou canst not; thou art so ripe to fall into hell, that no more of my kennel will so much as bark at him that hangs thee. Saw. I shall run mad. Dog. Do so, thy time is come to curse, and rave, and die; the glass of thy sins is full, and it must run out at gallows. Saw. It cannot, ugly cur, I'll confess nothing; And not confessing, who dare come and swear I have bewitch'd them? I'll not confess one mouthful. Dog. Choose, and be hang'd or burn'd. I'll muzzle up my tongue from telling tales. Dog. Spite of thee and the Devil, thou 'lt be condemn'd. Saw. Yes! when? Dog. And ere the executioner catch thee full in's claws, thou 'lt confess all. Saw. Out, dog! Dog. Out, witch! thy trial is at hand: Our prey being had, the Devil does laughing stand. [Goes aside. Enter Old BANKS, RATCLIFFE, and Countrymen. Banks. She's here; attach her. Witch, you must go with us. [They seize her. Saw. Whither? to hell? Banks. No, no, no, old crone; your mittimus shall be made thither, but your own jailers shall receive you. Away with her! Saw. My Tommy! my sweet Tom-boy; oh, thou dog! Dost thou now fly to thy kennel and forsake me! Dog. Ha, ha, ha, ha! Let not the world witches or devils condemn; [She is carried off. [Exit DOG. They follow us, and then we follow them. SCENE II. London.-The neighbourhood of Tyburn. Enter JUSTICE, Sir ARTHUR, SOMERTON, WARBECK, CARTER, and KATHERINE. Just. Sir Arthur, though the bench hath mildly censured your errors, yet you have indeed been the instrument that wrought all their misfortunes; I would wish you paid down your fine speedily and willingly, Sir Ar. I shall need no urging to it. Car. If you should, 't were a shame to you; for, if I should speak my conscience, you are worthier to be hang'd of the two, all things considered: and now make what you can of it; but I am glad these gentlemen are freed. War. We knew our innocence. Som. And therefore fear'd it not. Kath. But I am glad that I have you safe. [A noise within. Just. How now? what noise is that? |