Sus. You took too sure possession Of an engaged heart. Frank. Which now I challenge. Car. Marry, and much good may it do thee, son. Take her to thee: and when's the day? Thor. To-morrow, if you please. To use cere mony Of charge and custom were to little purpose; Car. A good motion. We'll e'en have an household dinner, and let the fiddlers go scrape : let the bride and bridegroom dance at night together; no matter for the guests :-to-morrow, Sue, to-morrow. Shall's to dinner now? Thor. We are on all sides pleased, I hope. Sus. Pray Heaven I may deserve the blessing sent me! Now my heart's settled. Car. Your marriage-money shall be received before your wedding shoes can be pulled on. Blessings on you both! Frank. (Aside.) No man can hide his shame from Heaven that views him; In vain he flees whose destiny pursues him.* [Exeunt. *Thus far the hand of Ford is visible in every line. Of the Act which follows, much may be set down, without hesitation, to the credit of Decker.-GIFford. ACT II. SCENE I.-The Fields near Edmonton. Enter ELIZABETH SAWYER, gathering sticks. Saw. And why on me? why should the envious world Throw all their scandalous malice upon me? nurse. This they enforce upon me; and in part Enter Old BANKS. Banks. Out, out upon thee, witch! * Forespeaks their cattle.] A very common term for bewitch. In Burton's 66 Anatomy of Melancholy," the two words are used together, as nearly synonymous. "They are in despaire, surely forespoken or bewitched." Banks. I do, witch, I do; and worse I would, knew I a name more hateful. What makest thou upon my ground? Saw. Gather a few rotten sticks to warm me. Banks. Down with them when I bid thee, quickly; I'll make thy bones rattle in thy skin else. Saw. You won't, churl, cut-throat miser!. there they be; (Throws them down.) would they stuck cross thy throat, thy bowels, thy maw, thy midriff. Banks. Say'st thou me so, hag? ground! Saw. Dost strike me, slave, curmudgeon! Now thy bones ache, thy joints be cramped, and convulsions stretch and crack thy sinews! Banks. Cursing, thou hag! take that, and that. [Beats her and exit. Saw. Strike, do!—and wither'd may that hand and arm Whose blows have lamed me, drop from the rotten trunk! Abuse me! beat me! call me hag and witch! What is the name? where, and by what art learn'd, What spells, what charms or invocations, Enter CUDDY BANKS, and several other clowns. Cud. A new head for the tabor, and silver tipping for the pipe; remember that: and forget not five leash of new bells. shall have 'em strait in Crooked-Lane:-double bells all, if it be possible. Cud. Double bells? double coxcombs! trebles, buy me trebles, all trebles; for our purpose is to be in the altitudes. 2 Cl. All trebles? not a mean? Cud. Not one. The morrice is so cast, we'll have neither mean nor base in our company, fellow Rowland. 3 Cl. What! nor a counter? Cud. By no means, no hunting counter; leave that to the Enfield Chase men: all trebles, all in the altitudes. Now for the disposing of parts in the Morrice, little or no labour will serve. 2 Cl. If you that be minded to follow your lead *When the sports of our ancestors were rude and few, Morrice-dancers formed a very favorite part of their merry meetings. They were first undoubtedly a company of people that represented the military dancers of the Moors, (once the most lively and refined people in Europe,) in their proper habits and arms, and must have been sufficiently amusing to an untravelled nation like the English; but, by degrees, they seem to have adopted into their body all the prominent characters of the other rustic May-games and sports, which were now probably declining, and to have become the most anomalous collection of performers that ever appeared, at once, upon the stage of the world. Besides the hobby-horse, there were the fool, (not the driveller, as Tollet supposes, but the buffoon of the party,) may, or maid, Marian, and her paramour, a friar; a serving-man; a piper, and two moriscoes. These, with their bells, rings, streamers, &c., all in motion at one time, must have, as Rabelais says, made a tintamarre de diable! Their dress is prettily described by Fletcher: Soto. Do you know what sports are in season? Soto. Where are your bells then, er, know me, (an ancient honour belonging to our house,) for a fore-horse i'th' team, and fore-gallant in a morrice, my father's stable is not unfurnish'd. 3 Cl. So much for the fore-horse; but how for a good Hobby-horse? Cud. For a Hobby-horse? let me see an almanack. Midsummer-moon, let me see you. "When the moon's in the full, then wit's in the wane.' No more. Use your best skill; your morrice will suffer an eclipse. 1 Cl. An eclipse? Cud. A strange one. 2 Cl. Strange? Cud. Yes, and most sudden. Remember the fore-gallant, and forget the hobby-horse! the whole body of your morrice will be darkened. Your rings, your ribbands, friend, and your clean napkins; Your nosegay in your hat, pinn'd up? &c.--Women Pleased. When the right good-will with which these worthy persons capered is taken into consideration, the clean napkin, which was never omitted, will not appear the least necessary part of the apparatus. Thus Clod, in the masque of Gipseys, observes, "They should be morrice-dancers by their jingle, but they have no napkins." The hobby-horse, who once performed the principal character in the dance, and whose banishment from it is lamented with such ludicrous pathos by our old dramatists, was a light frame of wicker-work, furnished with a pasteboard head and neck of a horse. This was buckled round the waist, and covered with a foot-cloth which reached to the ground, and concealed at once the legs of the performer and his juggling apparatus. Thus equipped, he pranced and curvetted in all directions, (probably to keep the ring clear,) neighing, and exhibiting specimens of boisterous and burlesque horsemanship.-Gir FORD. |