The Merry Devil of Edmonton

The merry Deuill of Edmonton .

The Prologue . YOur silence and attention worthy friends , ( sense , That your free spirits may with more pleasing Relish the life of this our actiue sceane , To which intent , to calme this murmuring breath , We ring this round with our inuoking spelles , If that your listning eares be yet prepard To entertayne the subiect of our play , Lend vs your patience . T is Peter Fabell a renowned Scholler , Whose fame hath still beene hitherto forgot By all the writers of this latter age . In Middle-sex his birth and his abode , Not full seauen mile from this great famous Citty That for his fame in sleights and magicke won , Was calde the merry Fiend of Edmonton . If any heere make doubt of such a name , In Edmonton yet fresh vnto this day , Fixt in the wall of that old antient Church His monument remayneth to be seene ; His memory yet in the mouths of men , That whilst he liude he could deceiue the Deuill . Imagine now that whilst he is retirde , From Cambridge backe vnto his natiue home , Suppose the silent sable visagde night , Casts her blacke curtaine ouer all the world , And whilst he sleepes within his silent bed , Toylde with the studies of the passed day : The very time and houre wherein that spirite That many yeeres attended his commaund ; And often times twixt Cambridge and that towne , Had in a minute borne him through the ayre , By composition twixt the fiend and him , Draw the curtaines . Comes now to claime the Scholler for his due . Behold him heere laide on his restlesse couch , His fatall chime prepared at his head , His chamber guarded with these sable slights , And by him stands that Necromanticke chaire , In which he makes his direfull inuocations , And binds the fiends that shall obey his will , Sit with a pleased eye vntill you know The Commicke end of our sad Tragique show . Exit .

The Chime goes , in which time Fabell is oft seene to stare about him , and hold vp his hands . Fa. What meanes the tolling of this fatall chime , O what a trembling horror strikes my hart ! My stiffned haire stands vpright on my head , As doe the bristles of a porcupine . Enter Coreb a Spirit . Co. Fabell awake , or I will beare thee hence headlong to hell . Fab. Ha , ha , why dost thou wake me ? Coreb , is it thou ? Cor. T is I . Fa. I know thee well , I heare the watchfull dogs , With hollow howling tell of thy approch , The lights burne dim , affrighted with thy presence : And this distemperd and tempestuous night Tells me the ayre is troubled with some Deuill . Cor. Come , art thou ready ? Fab. Whither ? or to what ? Cor. Why Scholler this the houre my date expires , I must depart and come to claime my due . Fa. Hah , what is thy due ? Cor. Fabell , thy selfe , Fab. O let not darkenes heare thee speake that word , Lest that with force it hurry hence amaine , And leaue the world to looke vpon my woe Yet ouerwhelme me with this globe of earth , And let a little sparrow with her bill , Take but so much as shee can beare away , That euery day thus losing of my load , I may againe in time yet hope to rise . Cor. Didst thou not write thy name in thine owne blood ? And drewst the formall deed twixt thee and mee , And is it not recorded now in hell ? Fa. Why comst thou in this sterne and horred shape ? Not in familiar sort as thou wast wont . Cor. Because the date of thy command is out , And I am master of thy skill and thee . Fa. Coreb , thou angry and impatient spirit , I haue earnest busines for a priuate friend , Reserue me spirit vntill some further time . Cor. I will not for the mines of all the earth . Fa. Then let me rise , and ere I leaue the world , Dispatch some busines that I haue to doe , And in meane time repose thee in that chayre . Cor. Fabell , I will . Sit downe . Fa. O that this soule that cost so great a price , As the deere pretious blood of her redeemer , Inspirde with knowledge , should by that alone Which makes a man so meane vnto the powers , Euen lead him downe into the depth of hell , When men in their owne pride striue to know more then man should know ! For this alone God cast the Angellēs downe , The infinity of Arts is like a sea , Into which when man will take in hand to saile Further then reason , which should be his pilot , Hath skill to guide him , losing once his compasse , He falleth to such deepe and dangerous whirlepooles , As he doth lose the very sight of heauen : The more he striues to come to quiet harbor , The further still he finds himselfe from land , Man striuing still to finde the depth of euill , Seeking to be a God , becomes a Deuill . Cor. Come Fabell hast thou done ? Fab. Yes , yes , come hither . Cor Fabell , I cannot . Fab. Cannot , what ailes your hollownes ? Cor. Good Fabell helpe me . Fab. Alas where lies your griefe ? some Aqua-vitae , The Deuil 's very sicke , I feare hee 'le die , For he lookes very ill . Cor. Darst thou deride the minister of darkenes ? In Lucifers dread name Coreb coniures thee To set him free . Fab. I will not for the mines of all the earth , Vnles thou giue me libertie to see , Seauen fiends more before thou sease on mee . Cor. Fabell , I giue it thee . Fab. Sweare damned fiend . Cor. Vnbind me , and by hell I will not touch thee , Till seauen yeares from this houre be full expirde . Fab. Enough , come out . Cor. A vengeance take thy art , Liue and conuert all piety to euill , Neuer did man thus ouer-reach the Deuill ; No time on earth like Phaetontique flames , Can haue perpetuall being . I le returne To my infernall mansion , but be sure Thy seauen yeeres done , noe tricke shall make me tarry , Exit . But Coreb , thou to hell shalt Fabell carry . Fab. Then thus betwixt vs two this variance ends , Thou to thy fellow Fiends , I to my friends . Exit . Enter Sir Arthur Clare , Dorcas his Lady , Milliscent his daughter , yong Harry Clare , the men booted , the gentlewomen in cloakes and safe-guardes , Blague the merry host of the Georg comes in with them . Host. WElcome good knight to the George at Waltham , My free-hold , my tenements , goods , & chattels ,

Madam heer 's a roome is the very Homer and Iliads of a lodging , it hath none of the foure elements in it , I built it out of the

Center , and I drinke neere the lesse sacke . Welcome my little wast of maiden-heads , what ? I serue the good Duke of Norfolke . Clare . God a mercie my good host Blague , Thou hast a good seate here . Host. T is correspondent or so , there 's not a Tartarian Nor a Carrier , shall breath vpon your geldings , They haue villanous rancke feete , the rogues , And they shall not sweat in my linnen . Knights and Lords too haue bene drunke in my house , I thanke the destinies . Har. Pre'the good sinful Inkeeper , wil that corruption thine Ostler looke well to my geldings . Hay , a poxe a these rushes . Host.

You Saint Dennis , your geldings shall walke without doores , and coole his feete for his masters sake by the body of S George I haue an excellent intellect to go steale some venison now when wast thou in the forrest ?

Har.

Away you stale messe of white broth : Come hither sister , let me helpe you .

Clare .

Mine Host is not Sir Richard Mounchensey come yet according to our appointment when we last dinde here ?

Host.

The knight 's not yet apparent marry heere 's a forerunner that summons a parle , and saith , hee le be here top and top-gallant presently .

Clare .

T is well good mine host , goe downe and see breakfast be prouided .

Host.

Knight , thy breath hath the force of a woman , it takes me downe , I am for the baser element of the kitchin : I retire like a valiant souldiers face point blanke to the foe-man ; or like a Courtier that must not shew the Prince his posteriors ; vanish to know my canuasadoes and my interrogatories , for I serue the good Duke of Norfolke .

Exit . Cla. How doth my Lady , are you not weary Madam ? Come hither , I must talke in priuate with you , My daughter Milliscent must not ouer-heare . Mill. I , whispring , pray God it tend my good , Strange feare assailes my heart , vsurps my blood . Cla. You know our meeting with the knight Mounehensey , Is to assure our daughter to his heire . Dor. T is without question . Cla. Two tedious winters haue past ore since first , These couple lou'd each other , and in passion Glewd first their naked hands with youthfull moysture , Iust so long on my knowledge . Dor. And what of this ? Cla. This morning should my daughter lose her name , And to Mounchenseys house conuey our armes , Quartered within his scutchion ; th' affiance made Twixt him and her , this morning should be sealde . Dor. I know it should . Clar. But there are crosses wife , heere 's one in Waltham , Another at the Abby ; and the third At Cheston , and t is ominous to passe Any of these without a pater-noster : Crosses of loue still thwart this marriage , Whilst that we two like spirits walke in night , About those stony and hard hearted plots . Mill. O God , what meanes my father ? Cla. For looke you wife , the riotous old knight , Hath o'rerun his annual reuenue , In keeping iolly Christmas all the yeere , The nostrilles of his chimny are still stuft , With smoake more chargeable then Cane-tobacco , His hawkes deuoure his fattest dogs whilst simple , His leanest curres eate him hounds carrion Besides , I heard of late his yonger brother , A Turky merchant hath sure suck'de the knight , By meanes of some great losses on the sea , That you conceiue mee , before God all naught , His seate is weake , thus each thing rightly scand , You 'le see a flight wife , shortly of his land . Mill. Treason to my hearts truest soueraigne , How soone is loue smothered in foggy gaine ? Dor. But how shall we preuent this dangerous match ? Cla. I haue a plot , a tricke , and this it is , Vnder this colour I le breake off the match ; I le tell the knight that now my minde is changd For marrying of my daughter , for I intend To send her vnto Cheston Nunry . Mill. O me accurst ! Cla. There to become a most religious Nunne . Mill. I le first be buried quicke . Clar. To spend her beauty in most priuate prayers . Mill. I le sooner be a sinner in forsaking Mother and father . Cla. How dost like my plot ? Dor. Exceeding well , but is it your intent She shall continue there ? Cla. Continue there ? Ha , ha , that were a iest , You know a virgin may continue there , A twelue moneth and a day onely on triall , There shall my daughter soiourne some three moneths , And in meane time I le compasse a faire match Twixt youthfull Ierningham , the lusty heire Of Sir Raph Ierningham dwelling in the forrest , I thinke they 'le both come hither with Mounchensey . Exeunt . Dor. Your care argues the loue you beare our childe , I will subcribe to any thing you le haue me . Mill. You will subscribe to it , good , good , t is well , Loue hath two chaires of state , heauen and hell : My deere Mounchensey , thou my death shalt rue , Ere to thy heart Milliscent proue vntrue . Exit . Enter Blague . Host.

Ostlers , you knaues and commanders , take the horses of the knights and competitors : your honourable hulkes haue put into harborough , thei le take in fresh water here , and I haue prouided cleane chamber-pots .

Via , they come . Enter Sir Richard Mounchensey , Sir Raph Ierningham , yong Franke Ierningham , Raymond Mounchensey , Peter Fabell , and Bilbo . Host.

The destinies be most neate Chamberlaines to these swaggering puritanes , knights of the subsidy .

Sir Moun. God a mercy good mine host . Sir Ier. Thankes good host Blague . Host.

Roome for my case of pistolles that haue Greeke and Latine bullets in them , let me cling to your flanks my nimble Giberalters , and blow wind in your calues to make them swell bigger : Ha , I le caper in mine owne fee-simple , away with puntillioes , and Orthography : I serue the good Duke of Norfolke . Bilbo . Tityre tu patulae recubens sub tegmine fagi.

Bil.

Truely mine host , Bilbo , though he be somewhat out of fashion , will be your onely blade still I haue a villanous sharp stomacke to slice a breakfast .

Host.

Thou shalt haue it without any more discontinuance , releases , or atturnement ; what ? we know our termes of hunting ; and the sea-card .

Bil. And doe you serue the good duke of Norfolke still ? Host.

Still , and still , and still , my souldier of S Quentin's , come , follow me , I haue Charles waine below in a but of sacke , t' will glister like your Crabefish .

Bil.

You haue fine Scholler-like tearmes , your Coopers Dixionary is your onely booke to study in a celler , a man shall finde very strange words in it : come my host , le ts serue the good duke of Norfolke .

Host.

And still , and still , and still my boy I le serue the good duke of Norfolke .

Ier. Good Sir Arthur Clare . Clar. What Gentleman is that ? I know him not . Moun. T is M. Fabell Sir a Cambridge scholler , My sonnes deere friend . Clar. Sir , I intreat you know me . Fab. Command me sir , I am affected to you For your Mounchenseys sake . Clar. Alas for him , I not respect whether he sinke or swim , A word in priuate Sir Raph Ierningham . Ray. Me thinks your father looketh strangely on me , Say loue , why are you sad ? Mill. I am not sweete , Passion is strong , when woe with woe doth meete . Clar. Shall 's in to breakfast , after wee 'l conclude The cause of this our comming , in and feed , And let that vsher a more serious deed . Mill. Whilst you desire his griefe , my heart shall bleed . Yong Ier. Raymond Mounchensey come be frolick friend , This is the day thou hast expected long . Ray. Pray God deere Harry Clare it proue so happy . Ier. There 's nought can alter it , be merry lad . Fab. There 's nought shall alter it , be liuely Raymond , Stand any opposition gainst thy hope , Art shall confront it with her largest scope . Exeunt . Peter Fabell , solus . Fab. Good old Mounchensey , is thy hap so ill , That for thy bounty and thy royall parts , Thy kind alliance should be held in scorne , And after all these promises by Clare , Refuse to giue his daughter to thy sonne , Onely because thy Reuenues cannot reach , To make her dowage of so rich a ioynture , As can the heire of wealthy Ierningham ? And therefore is the false foxe now in hand , To strike a match betwixt her and th' other , And the old gray-beards now are close together , Plotting it in the garden . Is 't euen so ? Raymond Mounchensey , boy , haue thou and I Thus long at Cambridge read the liberall Arts , The Metaphysickes , Magicke , and those parts , Of the most secret deepe philosophy ? Haue I so many melancholy nights Watch'd on the top of Peter-house highest tower ? And come we backe vnto our natiue home , For want of skill to lose the wench thou lou'st ? Wee le first hang Enuill in such rings of miste As neuer rose from any dampish fenne , I le make the brinde sea to rise at Ware , And drowne the marshes vnto Stratford bridge , I le driue the Deere from Waltham in their walkes , And scatter them like sheepe in euery field : We may perhaps be crost , but if we be , He shall crosse the deuill that but crosses me . Enter Raymond and yong Ierning . But here comes Raymond disconsolate & sad , And heere s the gallant that must haue the wench . I pri'thee Raymond leaue these solemne dumps , Reuiue thy spirits , thou that before hast beene , More watchfull then the day-proclayming cocke , As sportiue as a Kid , as francke and merry As mirth her selfe . If ought in me may thy content procure , It is thine owne thou mayst thy selfe assure . Ray. Ha Ierningham , if any but thy selfe Had spoke that word , it would haue come as cold As the bleake Northerne winds , vpon the face Of winter . From thee they haue some power vpon my blood , Yet being from thee , had but that hollow sound , Come from the lips of any liuing man , It might haue won the credite of mine eare , From thee it cannot . Ier. If I vnderstand thee , I am a villain , What , dost thou speake in parables to thy friends ? Clar. Come boy and make me this same groning loue , Troubled with stitches , and the cough a' th lungs , That wept his eyes out when he was a childe , And euer since hath shot at hudman-blind , Make her leape , caper , ierke and laugh and sing , And play me horse-trickes , Make Cupid wanton as his mothers doue , But , in this sort boy I would haue thee loue . Fab. Why how now mad-cap ? what my lusty Franke , So neere a wife , and will not tell your friend ? But you will to this geere in hugger-mugger , Art thou turnde miser Rascall in thy loues ? Ier. Who I ? z'blood , what should all you see in me , That I should looke like a married man ? ha , Am I balde ? are my legs too little for my hose ? If I feele any thing in my forehead , I am A villain , doe I weare a night-cap ? doe I bend in the hams ? What dost thou see in me that I should be towards marriage , ha ? Cla. What thou married ? let me looke vpon thee , Rogue , who has giuen out this of thee ? how camst thou into this ill name ? what company Hast thou bin in Rascall ? Fab. You are the man sir , must haue Millescent , The match is making in the garden now , Her ioynture is agreed on , and th' old men Your fathers meane to lanch their busy bags , But in meane time to thrust Mountchensey off , For colour of this new intended match . Faire Millescent to Cheston must be sent , To take the approbation for a Nun . Nere looke vpon me lad , the match is done . Ier. Raymond Mountchensey , now I touch thy griefe , With the true feeling of a zealous friend . And as for faire and beauteous Millescent , With my vaine breath I will not seeke to slubber , Her angell like perfections , but thou know'st , That Essex hath the Saint that I adore , Where ere did we meete thee and wanton springs , That like a wag thou hast not laught at me , And with regardles iesting mockt my loue ? Now many a sad and weary summer night , My sighs haue drunke the dew from off the earth , I haue taught the watchfull Niting-gale to wake , And from the meadowes spring the earely larke , An houre before she would haue rose to sing , I haue loaded the poore minutes with my moanes , That I haue made the heauy slow pasde houres , To hang like heauie clogs vpon the day . But deere Mounchensey , had not my affection Seasde on the beauty of another dame , Before I would giue o're the chase and wronge the loue , Of one so worthy and so true a friend , I will abiure both beauty and her sight , And will in loue become a counterfeit . Mount . Deere Ierningham , thou hast begot my life , And from the mouth of he I where now I sate , I feele my spirit rebound against the stars : Thou hast conquerd me deere friend in my free soule , Their time or death can by their power controule . Fab Franke Ierningham , thou art a gallant boy , And were he not my pupill I would say , He were as fine a metled gentleman , Of as free spirit and of as fine a temper , As is in England , and he is a Man , That very richly may deserue thy loue . But noble Clare , this while of our discourse , What may Mounchensey , honour to thy selfe , Exact vpon the measure of thy grace ? Clar. Raymond Mounchensey ? I would haue thee know , He does not breath this ayre , Whose loue I cherish , and whose soule I loue , More then Mounchenseyes : Nor euer in my life did see the man , Whom for his wit and many vertuous parts , I thinke more worthy of my sisters loue . But since the matter growes vnto this passe , I must not seeme to crosse my Fathers will . But when thou list to visit her by night , My horses sadled , and the stable doore Stands ready for thee , vse them at thy pleasure , In honest mariage wed her frankly boy , And if thou getst her lad , God giue thee ioy . Moun. Then care away , let fates my fall pretend , Backt with the fauours of so true a friend . Fab. Let vs alone to bussell for the set , For age and craft , with wit and Art haue met . I le make my spirits to dance such nightly Iigs Along the way twixt this and Totnam crosse , The Carriers Iades shall cast their heauie packs , And the strong hedges scarse shall keepe them in : The Milke-maides Cuts shall turne the wenches off , And lay the Dossers tumbling in the dust : The franke and merry London prentises , That come for creame and lusty country cheere , Shall lose their way , and scrambling in the ditches All night , shall whoop and hollow , cry and call , Yet none to other finde the way at all . Mount . Pursue the proiect scholler , what we can do , To helpe indeauour ioyne our liues thereto . Enter Banks , Sir Iohn , and Smug. Banks .

Take me with you good Sir Iohn ; a plague on thee Smug , and thou touchest liquor thou art founderd straight : what are your braines alwayes water-milles ? must they euer runne round ?

Smug.

Banks , your ale is a Philistine fox , z'hart there s fire i' th taile : out ; you are a rogue to charge vs with Mugs i' th rereward : a plague of this winde , O it tickles our Catastrophe .

Sir Io.

Neighbour Banks of Waltham , and Goodman Smug the honest Smith of Edmonton , as I dwell betwixt you both that Enfield , I know the taste of both your ale houses , they are good both , smart both : Hem , Grasse and hay , we are all mortall , let 's liue till we die , and be merry and there s an end .

Banks .

Well said sir Iohn , you are of the same humor still , and doth the water runne the same way still boy ?

Smug.

Uulcan was a rogue to him ; Sir Iohn locke , lock , lock fast sir Iohn : so sir Iohn , I le one of these yeares when it shall please the Goddesses and the destinies , be drunke in your company ; that s all now , and God fend vs health ; shall I sweare I loue you ?

Sir Io. No oathes , no oaths , good neighbour Smug , Wee l wet our lips together in hugge ; Car rouse in priuate , and eleuate the hart , And the liuer and the lights , and the lights , Marke you me within vs , for hem , Grasse and hay , we are all mortall , le ts liue till we die , and be Merry , and ther s an end . Banks .

But to our former motion about stealing some venison , whither goe we ?

Sir Io.

Into the forrest neighbour Banks , into Brians walke the madde keeper .

Smug. Zblood , I le tickle your keeper . Bank .

Y faith thou art alwayes drunke when we haue neede of thee .

Smug.

Neede of mee ? z'hart , you shall haue neede of mee alwayes while there s yron in an Anuill .

Banks .

M. Parson , may the Smith goe thinke you , being in this taking ?

Smug. Go , I le goe in spight of all the belles in Waltham . Sir Io.

The question is good neighboure Banks , let mee see , the Moone shines to night , ther 's not a narrow bridge betwixt this and the forrest , his braine will be setled ere night , he may go , he may go neighbour Banks : Now we want none but the company of mine host Blague at the George at Waltham , if he were here , our Consort were full ; looke where comes my good host , the Duke of Norfolks man , and how and how ? a hem , grasse and hay , wee are not yet mortall ' le ts liue till we die and be merry , and ther 's an end .

Enter Host . Host.

Ha my Castilian dialogues , and art thou in breath stil boy ? Miller doth the match hold ? Smith , I see by thy eyes thou hast bin reading little Geneua print : but wend we merrily to the forrest to steale some of the kings Deere . I le meet you at the time appointed : away , I haue Knights and Colonells at my house , & must tend the Hungarians . If we be scard in the forrest , wee le meete in the Church-porch at Enfield ; is t Correspondent ?

Ban. T is well ; but how if any of vs should be taken ? Smi. He shall haue ransome by the Lord . Host.

Tush the knaue keepers are my besonians , & my pensioners , nine a clocke , be valiant my little Gogmagogs ; I le fence with all the Iustices in Hartford shire ; I le haue a Bucke til I die , I le slay a Doe while I liue , hold your bow straight & steady . I serue the good duke of Norfolke .

Smu. O rare ! who , ho , ho boy . Sir Io.

Peace neighbor Smug , you see this is a Boore , a Boore of the country , an illiterate Boore , and yet the Cittizen of good fellowes , come le ts prouide , ahem : Grasse and hay , wee are not yet all mortall , wee l liue till we die , and be merry , and there s an end : come Smug .

Smug. God night Waltham , who , ho , ho boy . Exeunt . Enter the Knights and Gentlemen from breakfast againe . Old Moun. Nor I for thee Clare , not of this , What ? hast thou fed me all this while with shalles ? And com'st to tell me now thou lik'st it not ? Cla. I doe not hold thy offer competent . Nor doe I like th' assurance of thy loue , The title is so brangled with thy debts . Old Mo. Too good for thee , and knight thou knowst it well , I fawnd not on thee for thy goods , not I , T was thine owne motion , that thy wife doth know . Lad. Husband it was so , he lies not in that . Clar. Hold thy chat queane . Old Moun. To which I hearkned willingly , and the rather , Because I was perswaded it proceeded From loue thou bor'st to me and to my boy , And gau'st him free accesse vnto thy house , Where he hath not behaude him to thy childe , But as befits a gentleman so doe : Nor is my poore distressed state so low , That I le shut vp my doores I warrant thee , Let it suffice Mountchensey , I mislike it , Nor thinke thy sonne a match fit for my childe , To tell thee Clare his blood is good and cleere , As the best drop that panteth in thy veines : But for this maide thy faire and vertuous childe , She is no more disparagd by thy basenes , Then the most orient and the pretious iewell , Which still retaines his lustre and his beauty , Although a slaue were owner of the same . Cla. She is the last is left me to bestow , And her I meane to dedicate to God . Mount . You doe sir . Cla. Sir , sir , I doe , she is mine owne . Mount . And pity she is so , Damnation dog , thee and thy wretched pelfe aside . Cla. Not thou Mountchensey shalt bestow my childe . Mount . Neither shouldst thou bestow her where thou Mean'st . Cla. What wilt thou doe ? Moun. No matter , let that bee , I will doe that , perhaps shall anger thee ; Thou hast wrongd my loue , and by Gods blessed Angell , Thou shalt well know it . Cla. Tut , braue not me . Moun. Braue thee base Churle , were 't not for man-hood sake , I say no more , but that there be some by , Whose blood is hotter then ours is , Which being stird , might make vs both repent This foolish meeting : but Raph Clare Although thy father haue abused my friendship , Yet I loue thee , I doe my noble boy , I doe yfaith . Lady . I , doe , do , fill all the world with talke of vs , man , man . I neuer lookt for better at your hands . Fab. I hope your great experience and your yeeres , Would haue prou'de patience rather to your soule , Then with this frantique and vntamed passion , To whet their skeans and but that , I hope their friendships are too well confirmd , And their minds temperd with more kindly heat , Then for their froward parents soares , That they should breake forth into publique brawles , How ere the rough hand of th' untoward world , Hath moulded your proceedings in this matter , Yet I am sure the first intent was loue : Then since the first spring was so sweet and warme , Let it die gently , ne're kill it with a scorne . Ray. O thou base world , how leprous is that soule That is once lim'd in that polluted mudde , Oh sir Arthur you haue startled his free actiue spirits , With a too sharpe spur for his minde to beare : Haue patience sir , the remedy to woe , Is to leaue what of force we must forgoe . Mill. And I must take a twelue moneths approbation , That in meane time this sole and priuate life , At the yeares end may fashion me a wife : But sweet Mounchensey ere this yeare be done , Thou 'st be a frier if that I be a Nun ; And father ere yong Ierninghams I le bee , I will turne mad to spight both him and thee . Cla. Wife come to horse , and huswife make you ready , For if I liue , I sweare by this good light , I le see you lodgde in Chesson house to night . Moun. Raymond away , thou seest how matters fall , Churle , hell consume thee and thy pelfe and all . Fab. Now M. Clare , you see how matters fadge , Your Milliscent must needes be made a Nun : Well sir , we are the men must plie this match , Hold you your peace and be a looker on , And send her vnto Chesson where he will , I le send mee fellowes of a handful high , Into the Cloysters where the Nuns frequent , Shall make them skip like Does about the Dale , And make the Lady prioresse of the house to play at leape-froge naked in their smockes , Vntill the merry wenches at their masse , Cry teehee weehee , And tickling theese mad lasses in their flanckes , Shall sprawle and squeke , and pinch their fellow Nunnes . Be liuely boyes , before the wench we lose , I le make the Abbas weare the Cannons hoose . Exeunt . Enter Harry Clare , Francke Ierningham , Peter Fabell , and Milliscent . Ha. Cla. Spight now hath done her worst , sister be patient , Ier. Forewarnd poore Raymonds company to heauen , When the composure of weake frailtie meete , Vpon this mart of durt ; O then weake loue , Must in hir owne vnhappines be silent , And winck on all deformities . Milli. T is well ; Wher s Raymond brother ? wher s my deere Mounchensey ? Would wee might weepe together and then part , Our sighing parle would much ease my heart . Fab. Sweete beautie fould your sorrowes in the thought , Of future reconcilement ; let your teares Shew you a woman ; but be no farther spent then from the eyes ; for ( sweete ) experience sayes , That loue is firme that s flattered with delayes . Milli. Alas sir , thinke you I shall ere be his ? Fab. As sure as parting smiles on future blisse . Yond comes my friend , see he hath doted So long vpon your beautie , that your want Will with a pale retirement wast his blood , For in true loue , Musicke doth sweetly dwell , Seuerd theese lesse worlds beare within them hell . Enter Mounchensey . Mount .

Harry and Francke you are enioynd to waine your friendship from mee , we must part the breath of all aduised corruption , pardon mee .

Faith I must say so , you may thinke I loue you , I breath not , rougher spight do seuer vs , Wee le meete by steale sweet friend by stealth you twaine . Kisses are sweetest got with strugling paine . Ier. Our friendship dies not Raymond . Mount . Pardon mee : I am busied , I haue lost my faculties , And buried them in Milliscents cleere eyes . Mill. Alas sweete Loue what shall become of me ? I must to Chesson to the Nunry , I shall nere see thee more . Moun. How sweete ! I le be thy votary , wee le often meete , This kisse diuides vs , and breathes soft adiew , This be a double charme to keepe both true . Fab. Haue done your fathers may chance spie your parting Refuse not you by any meanes good sweetnes , To goe vnto the Nunnery , farre from hence , Must wee beget your loues sweete happines , You shall not stay there long , your harder bed , Shall be more soft when Nun and maide are dead . Enter Bilbo . Moun. Now sirra what 's the matter ? Bil.

Mary you must to horse presently , that villanous old gowty churle , Sir Richard Clare longs till he bee at the Nunry .

Ha. Cla. How sir ?

O I cry you mercy , he is your father sir indeed ; but I am sure that there s lesse affinitie betwixt your two natures , then there is betweene a broker and a cutpurse .

Moun. Bring my gelding sirra . Bil.

Wel nothing greeues me , but for the poore wench , she must now cry vale to Lobster pies , hartichokes , and all such meates of mortalitie ; poore gentlewoman , the signe must not be in virgo any longer with her , and that me grieues full well .

Poore Milliscent Must pray and repent : O fatalle wonder ! Shee le now be no fatter , Loue must not come at her , Yet she shall be keept vnder . Exit . Ier. Farwell deere Raymond . Ha. Cla. Friend adew . Mill. Deere sweete . No ioy enioyes my hearte till wee next meete . Exeunt . Fab. Well Raymond now the tide of discontent , Beats in thy face , but er 't be long the wind , Shall turne the flood , wee must to Waltham abby , And as faire Milliscent in Cheston liues , A most vnwilling Nun , so thou shalt there Become a beardles Nouice , to what end Let time and future accidents declare : Tast thou my slights , thy loue i le onely share . Mount . Turne frier ? come my good Counseller le ts goe , Yet that disguise will hardly shrowd my woe . Exeunt . Enter the Prioresse of Cheston , with a Nun or two , Sir Arthur Clare , Sir Raph Ierningham , Henry and Francke , the Lady , and Bilbo , with Millisent . La. Cla. Madam ; The loue vnto this holy sisterhood , And our confirmd opinion of your zeale Hath truely wonne vs to bestow our Childe , Rather on this then any neighbouring Cell . Pri. Ihesus daughter Maries childe , Holy matron woman milde , For thee a masse shall still be sayd , Euery sister drop a bead . And those againe succeeding them For you shall sing a Requiem . Frank .

The wench is gone Harry , she is no more a woman of this world , marke her well , shee lookes like a Nun already , what thinkst on her ?

Har, By my faith her face comes handsomly to 't But peace le ts heare the rest . Sir . Ar. Madam for a tweluemonths approbation , Wee meane to make this triall of our childe . Your care and our deere blessing in meane time , Wee pray may prosper this intended worke . Pri. May your happy soule be blithe , That so truely pay your tithe . He who many children gaue , T is fit that he one child should haue . Then faire virgin heare my spell , For I must your duty tell . Mill. Good men and true , stand together and heare your charge . Pri. First a mornings take your booke The glasse wherein yourselfe must looke , Your young thoughts so proud and iolly Must be turnd to motions holy : For your buske , attires and toyes , Haue your thoughts on heauenly ioyes : And for all your follies past , You must do penance , pray and fast . Bil.

Let her take heed of fasting , and if euer she hurt her selfe with praying , I le nere trust beast .

Mill. This goes hard berladye . Pri. You shall ring the sacring bell , Keepe your howers and tell your knell , Rise at midnight to your mattens . Read your Psalter , sing your latins , And when your blood shall kindle pleasure , Scourge your selfe in plenteous measure . Mill. Worse and worse by Saint Mary . Fr.

Sirra Hal , how does she hold hir countenance ? wel , goe thy wayes , if euer thou proue a Nun , I le build an Abby .

Har.

She may be a Nun , but if euer shee prooue an Anchoresse , I le dig her graue with my nailes .

Fra. To her againe mother . Har. Hold thine owne wench . Prio. You must read the mornings masse , You must creepe vnto the Crosse . Put cold ashes on your head , Haue a haire cloth for your bed . Bil. She had rather haue a man in her bed . Prio. Bind your beads and tell your needes , Your holy Auies and your Creedes , Holy maide this must be done , Yf you meane to liue a Nun . Mill. The holy maide will be no Nun . Sir Ar. Madam we haue some busines of import , And must be gone . Wil t please you take my wife into your closet , Who further will acquaint you with my mind , And so good madam for this time adiew . Exeunt women . Sir Ra. Well now Francke Clare , how saiest thou ? to be breefe , What wilt thou say for all this , if we two , Thy father and my selfe , can bring about , That we conuert this Nun to be a wife , And thou the husband to this pretty Nun , How then my lad ? ha Francke , it may be done . Har. I now it workes . Fra. O god sir , you amaze mee at your words , Thinke with your selfe sir what a thing it were , To cause a recluse to remoue her vow , A maymed contrite , and repentant soule , Euer mortified with fasting and with prayer , Whose thoughts euen as hir eyes are fixd on heauen , To drawe a virgin thus deuour'd with zeale , Backe to the world ! O impious deede Nor by the Canon Law can it be done , Without a dispensation from the Church : Besides she is so prone vnto this life , As shee le euen shreeke to heare a husband namde . Bil. I a poore innocent shee , well , here s no knauery , hee flowts the old fooles to their teeth . Sir Raph. Boy I am glad to heare Thou mak'st such scruple of that conscience , And in a man so young as is your selfe , I promise you t is very seldome seene . But Franke this is a tricke , a meere deuise , A sleight plotted betwixt her father and my selfe , To thrust Mounchenseys nose besides the cushion , That being thus debard of all accesse , Time yet may worke him from her thoughts , And giue thee ample scope to thy desires . Bil. A plague on you both for a couple of Iewes . Har. How now Franke , what say you to that ? Fran. Let me alone , I warrant thee : Sir assurde that this motion doth proceede , From your most kinde and fatherly affection , I do dispose my liking to your pleasure , But for it is a matter of such moment As holy marriage , I must craue thus much , To haue some conference with my ghostly father , Frier Hildersham here by , at Waltham Abby , To be absolude of things that it is fit None only but my confessor should know . Sir . Ar.

With all my heart , he is a reuerend man , and to morrow morning wee will meet all at the Abby , whereby th' opnion of that reuerend man

Wee will proceede , I like it passing well : Till then we part , boy I thinke of it , farewell : A parents care no mortall tongue can tell . Exeunt . Enter Sir Arthur Clare , and Raymond Mounchensey like a Frier . Sir Ar. Holy yong Nouice I haue told you now , My full intent , and doe refer the rest To your professed secrecy and care : And see , Our serious speech hath stolne vpon the way , That we are come vnto the Abby gate , Because I know Mountchensey is a foxe , That craftily doth ouerlooke my doings , I le not be seene , not I ; Tush I haue done ; I had a daughter , but shee 's now a Nun : Farewell deere sonne , farewell . Exit . Moun, Fare you well , I you haue done , Your daughter sir , shall not be long a Nun ! O my rare Tutor , neuer mortall braine , Plotted out such a masse of policie ; And my deere bosome is so great with laughter , Begot by his simplicity and error My soule is fallen in labour with her ioy O my true friends Franke Ierningham and Clare , Did you now know but how this iest takes fire , That good sir Arthur thinking me a nouice , Hath euen powrd himselfe into my bosome ; O you would vent your spleenes with tickling mirth . But Raymond peace , and haue an eye about , For feare perhaps some of the Nuns looke out . Peace and charity within , Neuer touch't with deadly sin : I cast my holy water poore , On this wall and on this doore , That from euill shall defend , And keepe you from the vgly fiend : Euill spirit by night nor day , Shall approach or come this way ; Elfe nor Fary by this grace , Day nor night shall haunt this place . Who 's that which knocks ? ha , who 's there ? Holy maidens knocke . Answere within . Mount . Gentle Nun here is a Frier . Nun. A Frier without , now Christ vs saue , Enter Nun. Holy man , what wouldst thou haue ? Mount . Holy mayde I hither come , From Frier and father Hildersome . By the fauour and the grace Of the Prioresse of this place : Amongst you all to visit one , That 's come for approbation , Before she was as now you are , The daughter of Sir Arthur Clare : But since she now became a Nun , Call'd Milliscent of Edmunton . Nun. Holy man , repose you there , This newes I le to our Abbas beare : To tell what a man is sent , And your message and intent . Mount . Benedicite . Nun. Benedicite . Exit . Mount . Doe my good plumpe wench , if all fall right , I le make your sister-hood one lesse by night : Now happy fortune speede this merry drift , I like a wench comes roundly to her shrift . Enter Lady , Milliscent . Lad. Haue Friers recourse then to the house of Nuns ? Mill. Madam it is the order of this place , When any virgin comes for approbation , Lest that for feare or such sinister practise , Shee should be forcde to vndergoe this vaile , Which should proceed from conscience and deuotion : A visitor is sent from Waltham house , To take the true confession of the maide . Lady . Is that the order ? I commend it well , You to your shrift , I le backe vnto the cell . Exit . Mount . Life of my soule , bright Angel . Mill. What meanes the Frier ? Mount . O Milliscent , t is I . Mill. My heart misgiues me , I should know that voyce , You , who are you ? The holy virgin blesse me , Tell me your name , you shall ere you confesse me . Mount . Mountchensey thy true friend . Mill. My Raymond , my deere heart , Sweete life giue leaue to my distracted soule , To wake a little from this swoone of ioy , By what meanes camst thou to assume this shape ? Mount . By meanes of Peter Fabell my kind Tutor , Who in the habite of Frier Hildersham , Franke Ierninghams old friend and confessor , Plotted by Franke , by Fabell and my selfe , And so deliuered to Sir Arthur Clare , Who brought me heere vnto the Abby gate , To be his Nun-made daughters visitor . Mill. You are all sweete traytors to my poore old father , O my deere life , I was a dream't to night , That as I was a praying in mine Psalter , There came a spirit vnto me as I kneeld , And by his strong perswasions tempted me To leaue this Nunry ; and me thought , He came in the most glorious Angell shape , That mortall eye did euer looke vpon : Ha , thou art sure that spirit , for there s no forme , Is in mine eye so glorious as thine owne . Mount . O thou Idolatresse that dost this worship , To him whose likenes is but praise of thee , Thou bright vnsetting star which through this vaile , For very enuy mak'st the Sun looke pale . Mill. Well visitor , lest that perhaps my mother Should thinke the Frier too strickt in his decrees , I this confesse to my sweet ghostly father , If chast pure loue be sin I must confesse , I haue offended three yeares now with thee . Mount . But doe you yet repent you of the same ? Mill. Yfaith I cannot . Moun. Nor will I absolue thee , Of that sweete sin , though it be venial , Yet haue the pennance of a thousand kisses , And I enioyne you to this pilgrimage , That in the euening you bestow your selfe Heere in the walke neere to the willow ground , Where I le be ready both with men and horse , To waite your comming and conuey you hence , Vnto a lodge I haue in Enfield chase : No more replie if that you yeeld consent , I see more eyes vpon our stay are bent . Mill. Sweete life farewell ; t is done , let that suffice , What my tongue failes I send thee by mine eyes . Exit . Enter Fabell , Clare , and Ierningham . Ier. Now Visitor how does this new made Nun ? Cla. Come , come how does she noble Capouchin ? Moun.

She may be poore in spirit , but for the flesh t is fatte and plumpe boyes :

Ah rogues , there is a company of girles would turne you all Friers .

Fab. But how Mountchensey ? how lad for the wench ? Moun. Sound lads yfaith ; I thanke my holy habit ,

I haue confest her and the Lady prioresse hath giuen me ghostly counsell with hir blessing .

And how say yee boyes , If I be chose the weekely visitor ? Cla.

Z'blood shee l haue nere a Nun vnbagd to sing masse then .

Ier.

The Abbot of Waltham will haue as many Children , to put to nurse , as he has calues in the Marsh .

Moun.

Well to be breefe , the Nun will soone at night turne tippet ; if I can but deuise to quit her cleanly of the Nunry , she is mine owne .

Fab.

But Sirra Raymond , what newes of Peter Fabel at the house ?

Moun.

Tush hee s the onely man ; a Necromancer , and a Coniurer that workes for yong Mountchensey altogether ; and if it be not for Fryer Benedicke , that he can crosse him by his learned skill , the Wench is gone .

Fabell will fetch her out by very magicke . Fab. Stands the winde there boy , keepe them in that key . The wench is ours before tomorrow day ,

Well Raph and Franke , as ye are gentlemen , sticke to vs close this once ; you know your fathers haue men and horse lie ready still at Chesson , to watch the coast be cleere , to scowt about , & haue an eye vnto Mountchensey walks : therfore you two may houer thereabouts , and no man will suspect you for the matters be ready but to take her at our hands , leaue vs to scamble for hir getting out .

Ier.

Z'bloud if al Herford-shire were at our heeles , wee le carry her away in spight of them .

Cla. But whither Raymond ? Moun.

To Brians vpper lodge in Enfield Chase , he is mine honest Friend and a tall keeper , i le send my man vnto him presently t' acquant him with your comminge and intent .

Fab. Be breefe and secret . Moun. Soone at night remember You bring your horses to the willow ground . Ier. T is done , no more . Cla. We will not faile the hower , My life and fortune , now lies in your power . Fab. About our busines , Raymond le ts away , Thinke of your hower , it drawes well of the day . Exit . Enter Blague , Banks , Smug , and Sir Iohn . Bla.

Come yee Hungarian pilchers , we are once more come vnder the zona torrida of the forrest , le ts be resolute , le ts flie to and againe ; and if the deuill come , wee le put him to his Interrogatories , and not budge a foote , what ; s'foote i le put fire into you , yee shall all three serue the good Duke of Norfolke .

Smu.

Mine host , my bully , my pretious consull , my noble Holefernes , I haue ben drunke i' thy house , twenty times and ten , all 's one for that , I was last night in the third heauens , my braine was poore , it had yest in 't ; but now I am a man of action , is 't not so lad ?

Bil.

Why now thou hast two of the liberall sciences about thee , wit and reason , thou maist serue the Duke of Europe .

Smu.

I will serue the Duke of Christendom , and doe him more credit in his celler then all the plate in his buttery , is 't not so lad ?

Sir Ioh.

Mine host and Smug , stand there Banks , you and your horse keepe together ; but lie close , shew no trickes for feare of the keeper . If we be scard wee l meete in the Church-porch at Enfeild .

Smug. Content sir Iohn . Banks .

Smug , dost not thou remember the tree thou felst out of last night ?

Smug.

Tush , and 't had bin as high as the Abby , I should nere haue hurt my selfe I haue fallen into the riuer comming home from Waltham , and scapt drowning .

Sir Io.

Come seuer , fear no sprits , wee le haue a Bucke presently , we haue watched later then this for a Doe , mine Host .

Host. Thou speakst as true as veluet . Sir Io. Why then come , Grasse and hay , &c. Exeunt . Enter Clare , Ierningham , and Milliscent . Clar. Franke Ierningham ? Ier. Speake softly rogue , how now ? Clar.

S'foot we shall lose our way , it 's so darke , wherabouts are we ?

Ier. Why man , at Potters gate ,

The way lies right , harke the clocke strikes at Enfeild ; what s the houre ?

Cla. Ten the bell sayes . Ier.

A lies in 's throate , it was but eight when we set out of Chesson , Sir Iohn and his Sexton are at ale to night , the clocke runs at random .

Cla.

Nay , as sure as thou liu'st the villanous vicar is abroad in the chase this darke night : the stone Priest steales more venison then halfe the country .

Ier. Milliscent , how dost thou ? Mill. Sir , very well , I would to God we were at Brians lodge . Cla. We shall anon , z'ounds harke , What meanes this noyse ? Ier. Stay , I heare horsemen . Cla. I heare footmen too . Ier. Nay then I haue it , we haue bin discouerd , And we are followed by our fathers men . Mill. Brother and friend , alas what shall we doe ? Cla. Sister speake softly or we are descride , They are hard vpon vs what so ere they be , Shadow your selfe behind this brake of ferne , Wee le get into the wood and let them passe . Enter Sir Iohn , Blague , Smug , and Banks , one after another . Sir Io.

Grasse and hay , wee are all mortall , the keepers abroad , and ther 's an end .

Ban. Sir Iohn . Sir Io. Neighbour Bankes what newes ? Ban.

z'wounds Sir Iohn the keepers are abroad ; I was hard by 'am .

Sir Io. Grasse and hay , wher 's mine host Blague ? Bla.

Here Metrapolitane , the philistines are vpon vs , be silent , let vs serue the good Duke of Norfolke ; but where is Smug .

Smu.

Here , a poxe on yee all dogs ; I haue kild the greatest Bucke in Brians walke , shift for your selues , all the keepers are vp , le ts meete in Enfield church porch , away we are all taken els .

Exeunt . Enter Brian with his man , and his hound . Bri. Raph hearst thou any stirring . Raph.

I heard one speake here hard by in the bottome ; peace Maister , speake low , zownes if I did not heare a bow goe off , and the Bucke bray , I neuer heard deere in my life .

Bri. When went your fellows out into their walks ? Ra. An hower a goe . Bri.

S'life is there stealers abroad , and they cannot heare of them ! where the deuill are my men to night ! sirra goe vp the wind towards Buckleyes lodge .

I le cast about the bottome with my hound , and I will meete thee vnder Conyocke .

Ra. I will Sir . Exit . Bri.

How now ? by the masse my hound stayes vpon something , harke , harke , Bowman , harke , harke there .

Mill. Brother Franke Ierningham , brother Clare . Bri.

Peace , that s a womans voyce , stand , who 's there , stand or I le shoote .

Milli. O Lord , hold your hands , I meane no harme sir . Bri. Speake , who are you ? Milli. I am a maid sir , who ? M. Brian ? Bri.

The very same , sure I should know her voyce , Mistris Milliscent .

Mill. I , it is I sir . Bri.

God for his passion , what make you here alone , I lookd for you at my lodge an hower agoe , what meanes your company to leaue you thus ? who brought you hither ?

Mill.

My brother Sir , and M. Ierningham , who hearing folks about vs in the Chase , feard it had bin sir Arthur and my father , who had pursude vs , thus dispearsed our selues till they were past vs .

Bri But where be they ? Mill. They be not farre off , here about the groue . Enter Clare and Ierningham . Cla. Be not afraid man , I heard Brian's tongue , that s certain . Ier. Call softly for your sister . Cla. Milliscent . Mill. I brother , heere . Bri. M. Clare . Cla. I told you it was Brian . Bri.

Whoe s that ? M. Ierningham , you are a couple of hot-shots , does a man commit his wench to you , to put her to grasse at this time of night ?

Ier. We heard a noyse about her in the chase ,

And fearing that our fathers had pursude vs , seuerd ourselues .

Cla. Brian how hapd'st thou on her ? Bri. Seeking for stealers are abroad to night , My hound staied on her , and so found her out . Cla. They were these stealers that affrighted vs , I was hard vpon them , when they horst their Deere , And I perceiue they tooke me for a keeper . Bri. Which way tooke they ? Ier. Towards Enfeild . Bri.

A plague vpon 't , that 's that damned Priest , & Blague of the George , he that serues the good Duke of Norfolke .

A noyse within , Follow , follow , follow . Cla. Peace , that s my fathers voyce . Bri.

Zownds you suspected them , and now they are heere indeed .

Mill. Alas , what shall we doe ? Bri. If you goe to the lodge you are surely taken , Strike downe the wood to Enfeild presently , And if Mounchensey come , I le send him t' yee : Let mee alone to bussle with your father , I warrant you that I will keepe them play , Till you haue quit the chase : away , away . Whoe s there ? Enter the Knights . Sir Rap. In the kings name pursue the Rauisher . Bri. Stand or I le shoote . Sir Ar. Whoe s there ? Bri. I am the keeper that doe charge you stand , You haue stollen my Deere . Sir Ar. We stolne thy Deere ? we do pursue a thiefe . Bri. You are arrant theeues , and ye haue stolne my Deere . Sir Rap.

We are Knights , sir Arthur Clare and sir Raph Ierningham .

Bri.

The more your shame that Knights should bee such thieues .

Sir Ar. Who ? or what art thou ? Bri. My name is Brian , keeper of this walke . Sir Rap. O Brian a villain , Thou hast receiued my daughter to thy lodge . Bri.

You haue stolne the best Deere in my walke to night , my Deere .

Sir Ar. My daughter , Stop not my way . Bri.

What make you in my walke ? you haue stolne the best Bucke in my walke to night .

Sir Ar. My daughter . Bri. My Deere . Sir Rap. Where is Mountchensey ? Bri. Where s my Bucke . Sir Ar. I will complaine me of thee to the King . Bri.

I le complaine vnto the King you spoile his game : T is strange that men of your account and calling , will offer it , I tell you true , Sir Arthur and sir Raph , that none but you haue onely spoild my game .

Sir Ar. I charge you stop vs not . Bri.

I charge you both ye get out of my ground . Is this a time for such as you , men of place and of your grauity , to be abroad a theeuing ! t is a shame , and afore God if I had shot at you , I had serude you well enough .

Enter Banks the miller wet on his legs . Ban.

S'foote heere s a darke night indeed , I thinke I haue bin in fifteene ditches betweene this and the forrest : soft , heer s Enfeilde Church : I am so wet with climing ouer into an orchard for to steale some filberts : well , heere I le sit in the Church porch and wait for the rest of my consort .

Enter the Sexton . Sex .

Heere 's a sky as blacke as Lucifer , God blesse vs , heere was goodman Theophilus buried , hee was the best Nutcraker that euer dwelt in Enfeild : well , t is 9. a clock , t is time to ring curfew . Lord blesse vs , what a white thing is that in the Church porch ; O Lorde my legges are too weake for my body , my haire is too stiffe for my night-cap , my heart failes ; this is the ghost of Theophilus , O Lord it followes me , I cannot say my prayers and one would giue me a thousand pound : good spirit , I haue bowld and drunke and followed the hounds with you a thousand times , though I haue not the spirit now to deale with you ; O Lord .

Enter Priest . Prie. Grasse and hey , we are all mortall , who 's there ? Sex .

We are grasse and hay indeede ; I know you to bee Master Parson by your phrase .

Prie. Sexton . Sex . I Sir . Prie. For mortalities sake , What 's the matter ? Sex .

O Lord I am a man of another element ; Maister Theophilus Ghost is in the Church porch , there was a hundred Cats all fire dancing here euen now ; and they are clombe vp to the top of the steeple , i le not into the bellfree for a world .

Prie.

O good Salomon ; I haue bin about a deede of darknes to night : O Lord I saw fifteen spirits in the forrest , like white bulles , if I lye I am an arrant theefe : mortalitie haunts vs ; grasse and hay the deuills at our heeles , and le ts hence to the parsonages .

Exeunt . The Miller comes out very softly . Mill.

What noise was that ? t is the watch , sure that villanous vnlucky rogue Smug is taine vpon my life , and then all our villeny comes out , I heard one cry sure .

Enter Host Blague . Host.

If I go steale any more veneson , I am a Paradox , s'foot I can scarce beare the sinne of my flesh in the day , t is so heauy , if I turne not honest , and serue the good Duke of Norfolke , as true mareterraneum skinker should doe , let me neuer looke higher then the element of a Constable .

Milla.

By the Lord there are some watchmen ; I heare them name Maister Constable , I would to God my Mill were an Eunuch and wanted her stones , so I were hence .

Host. Who 's there ? Mille.

T is the Constable by this light , I le steale hence , and if I can meete mine host Blague , i le tell him how Smug is taine , and will him to looke to him selfe .

Exit . Host.

What the deuill is that white thing ? this same is a Church-yard , and I haue heard that ghosts , and villenous goblins haue beene seene here .

Enter Sexton and Priest . Pri.

Grasse and hay , O that I could coniure , wee saw a spirite here in the Church-yeard ; and in the fallow field ther 's the deuill , with a mans body vpon his backe in a white sheet .

Sex . It may be a womans body Sir Iohn . Pri. If shee be a woman , the sheets damne her , Lord blesse vs , what a night of mortalitie is this . Host. Priest . Pri. Mine host . Host.

Did you not see a spirit all in white , crosse you at the stile ?

Priest .

O no mine host , but there sate one in the porch , I haue not breath ynough left to blesse me from the Deuill .

Host. Whoe s that ? Pri. The Sexton almost frighted out of his wits , Did you see Banks , or Smug . Host.

No they are gone to Waltham , sure I would faine hence , come , le ts to my house , I le nere serue the duke of Norfolk in this fashion againe whilst I breath . If the deuill be amongst vs , t is time to hoist saile , and cry roomer : Keepe together Sexton , thou art secret , what ? le ts be comfortable one to another .

Pri. We are all mortall mine host . Host.

True , and I le serue God in the night hereafter , afore the Duke of Norfolke .

Exeunt . Enter Sir Raph Clare , and Sir Arthur Ierningham , trussing their points as new vp . Sir Rap. Good morrow gentle knight , A happy day after your short nights rest , Sir Ar. Ha , ha , sir Raph stirring so soone indeed , Birlady sir rest would haue done right well , Our riding late last night , has made mee drowsie , Goe to goe to those dayes are gone with vs . Sir Ra. Sir Arthur , Sir Arthur , care go with those dayes , Let 'am euen goe together , let 'am goe . T is time yfaith that wee were in our graues When Children leaue obedience to their parents , When there 's no feare of God , no care , no dutie . Well , well , nay nay , it shall not doe , it shall not , No Mountchensey , thoust heare on 't , thou shalt , Thou shalt yfaith , I le hang thy Son if there be law in England : A mans Child rauisht from a Nunry ! This is rare ; well well , ther 's one gone for Frier Hildersam . Sir Ar. Nay gentle Knight do not vexe thus , It will but hurt your health .

You cannot greeue more then I doe , but to what end ; but harke you Sir Raph , I was about to say somthing ; it makes no matter ,

But hearke you in your eare ; the Frier 's a knaue , but God forgiue me , a man cannot tel neither , s'foot I am so out of patience ,

I know not what to say . Sir Ra. Ther 's one went for the Frier an hower agoe ;

Comes he not yet ! s'foot if I do find knauery vnde rs cowle ; i ! tickle him : i le firke him ; here here hee 's here , hee 's here .

Good morrow Frier , good morrow gentle Frier . Enter Hildersham . Sir Ar. Good morrow father Hildersham good morrow . Hild. Good morrow reuerend Knights vnto you both . Sir Ar. Father , how now ? you heare how matters go , I am vndone , my Childe is cast away , You did your best ; at least I thinke the best , But we are all crost , flately all is dasht . Hild. Alas good knights , how might the matter be ? Let mee vnderstand your greefe for Charity . Sir Ar. Who does not vnderstand my griefes ? alas alas ! And yet yee do not , will the Church permit , A Nun in approbation of her habit , To be rauished . Hild.

A holy woman , benedicite ; now God forfend that any should presume to touch the sister of a holy house .

Sir Ar. Thesus deliuer mee . Sir Ra. Why Millisent the daughter of this Knight , Is out of Chesson taken the last night . Hild. Was that faire maiden late become a Nun ! Sir Ra.

Was she quotha ? knauery , knauery , knauery ; I smell it , I smell it yfaith ; is the wind in that dore ? is it euen so ! doost thou aske me that now !

Hild. It is the First time that I ere heard of it . Sir Ar. That 's very strange . Sir Ra.

Why tell me Frier ; tell mee , thou art counted a holy man , doe not play the hypocrite with me , nor beare with mee , I cannot dissemble ; did I ought but by thy own consent ? by thy allowance ? nay further by thy warrant ?

Hild. Why Reuerend knight ? Sir Ra. Vnreuerend Frier . Hild.

Nay then giue me leaue sir to depart in quiet , I had hopd you had sent for mee to some other end .

Sir Ar. Nay stay good Frier , if any thing hath hapd , About this matter in thy Ioue to vs ; That thy strickt order cannot iustifie , Admit it be so , we will couer it , Take no care man ; Disclayme me not yet thy counsell and aduise , The wisest man that is may be orereacht . Hild. Sir Arthur , by my order and my faith , I know not what you meane . Sir Ar. By your order , and your faith ? this is most strange of all : Why tell mee Frier ; are not you Confessor to my Son Francke ? Hild. Yes that I am : Sir Ra. And did not this good knight here and my selfe , Confesse , with you being his ghostly Father , To deale with him about th' unbanded marriage , Betwixt him and that faire young Millisent ? Hild. I neuer heard of any match intended . Sir Ar. Did not we breake our minds that very time , That our deuice of making her a Nun , was but a colour and a very plotte , To put by young Mountchensey ; is t not true ? Hild.

The more I striue to know what you should meane , the lesse I vnderstand you .

Sir Rap.

Did not you tell vs still how Peter Fabell at length would crosse vs if we tooke not heed ?

Hild. I haue heard of one that is a great magician , But hee s about the Vniuersity . Sir Rap. Did not you send your nouice Benedic , To perswade the girle to leaue Mountchenseys loue , To crosse that Peter Fabell in his art , And to that purpose made him visitor ? Hild. I neuer sent my nouice from the house , Nor haue we made our visitation yet . Sir Ar.

Neuer sent him ? nay , did he not goe ? and did not I direct him to the house , and conferre with him by the way ? and did he not tell me what charge he had receiued from you ? word by word , as I requested at your hands ?

Hild.

That you shall know , hee came along with me , and stayes without come hither Benedic .

Enter Benedic .

Yong Benedic , were you ere sent by me to Chesson Nunnery for a visitor ?

Ben. Neuer sir , truely . Sir Ar. Stranger then all the rest . Sir Rap. Did not I direct you to the house ? Confer with you from Waltham Abby Vnto Chesson wall ? Ben. I neuer saw you sir before this hower . Sir Raph. The deuill thou didst not , hoc Chamberlen . Chamb. Anon , anon . Sir Ra. Call mine host Blague hither . Cla.

I will send one ouer to see if he be vp , I thinke he bee scarce stirring yet .

Sir Rap.

Why knaue , didst thou not tell me an hower ago mine host was vp ?

Cham. I sir , my Master 's vp . Sir Ra. You knaue , is a vp , and is a not vp ? Dost thou mocke mee ? Cham.

I sir , my M. is vp , but I thinke M. Blague indeed be not stirring ?

Sir Rap.

Why , who 's thy Master ? is not the Master of the house thy Master ?

Cham. Yes sir , but M. Blague dwells ouer the way . Sir Ar.

Is not this the George ? before God there s some villany in this .

Cham. S foote our signes remooud , this is strange . Enter Blague trussing his points . Bla. Chamberlen , speake vp to the new lodgings , Bid Nell looke well to the bakt meats , How now my old Ienerts banke , my horse ,

My castle , lie in Waltham all night , and not vnder the Canopie of your host Blagues house .

Sir Ar.

Mine host , mine host , we lay all night at the George in Waltham , but whether the George be your fee-simple or no , t is a doubtfull question , looke vpon your signe .

Host.

Body of Saint George , this is mine ouerthwart neighbour hath done this to seduce my blind customers , I le tickle his Catastrophe for this ; If I doe not indite him at next assisses for Burglary , let me die of the yellowes , for I see t is no boote in these dayes to serue the good Duke of Norfolke , the villanous world is turnd manger , one Iade deceiues another , and your Ostler playes his part commonly for the fourth share , haue wee Comedies in hand , you whoreson villanous male London letcher .

Sir Ar.

Mine host , we haue had the moylingst night of it that euer we had in our liues .

Host. I st certaine ? Sir Rap. We haue bin in the Forrest all night almost . Host.

S'foot how did I misse you ? hart I was a stealing a Bucke there .

Sir Ar. A plague on you , we were stayed for you . Host.

Were you my noble Romanes ? why you shall share , the venison is a footing , Sine Cerere & Baccho friget Venus : That is , there s a good breakfast prouided for a marriage , that s in my house this morning .

Sir Ar. A marriage mine host ? Host.

A coniunction copulatiue , a gallant match betweene your daughter , and M. Raymond Mountchensey , yong Iuuensus .

Sir Ar. How ? Host. T is firme , t is done , Wee le shew you a president i' th ciuill law for t . Sir Rap. How I married ! Host.

Leaue trickes , and admiration , there s a cleanely paire of sheetes in the bed in Orchard chamber , and they shall lie there , what ? I le doe it , I le serue the good Duke of Norfolke .

Sir Ar. Thou shalt repent this Blague . Sir Rap.

If any law in England will make thee smart for this , expect it with all seuerity .

Host.

I renounce your defiance , if you parle so roughly , I le barracado my gates against you : stand faire bully ; Priest come off from the rereward ; what can you say now ? t was done in my house , I haue shelter i' th Court for 't , d ee see your bay window ? I serue the good duke of Norfolk , & t is his lodging , storm I care not seruing the good Duke of Norfolk : thou art an actor in this , and thou shalt carry fire in thy face eternally .

Enter Smug , Mountchensey , Harry Clare and Milliscent . Smug.

Fire , sblood there 's no fire in England like your Trinidado sacke ; is any man heere humorous ? we stole the venison , and wee le iustifie it : say you now .

Host. In good sooth Smug there s more sacke on the fire Smug . Smu.

I do not take any exceptions against your sacke , but if you le lend mee a picke staffe , i le cudgle them all hence by this hand .

Host. I say thou shalt into the Celler . Sm. s'foot mine Host , shall s not grapple ?

Pray pray you ; I could fight now for all the world like a Cockatrices ege ; shal s not serue the Duke of Norfolke ?

Exit . Host. In skipper in . Sir Arth. Sirra , hath young Mountchensey married your sister ? Ha. Cla.

T is Certaine Sir ; her 's the priest that coupled them ; the parties ioyned , and the honest witnesse that cride , Amen .

Mount .

Sir Arthur Clare , my new created Father , I beseech you heare mee .

Sir Ar.

Sir Sir , you are a foolish boy , you haue done that you cannot answere ; I dare be bould to ceaze her from you , for shee 's a profest Nun .

Mill. With pardon sir , that name is quite vndone , This true-loue knot cancelles both maid and Nun . When first you told me I should act that part , How cold and bloody it crept ore my hart ! To Chesson with a smiling brow I went , But yet , deere sir , it was to this intent , That my sweete Raymond might find better meanes , To steale me thence : in breefe disguisd he came , Like Nouice to old father Hildersham . His tutor here did act that cunning part , And in our loue hath ioynd much wit to art . Cla. Is 't euen so ! Mill. With pardon therfore wee intreat your smiles , Loue thwarted turnes itselfe to thousand wiles . Cla. Young Maister Ierningham , were you an actor , in your owne loues abuse ? Ier. My thoughts , good sir , Did labour seriously vnto this end , To wrong my selfe ere i de abuse my friend . Host.

He speakes like a Batchelor of musicke all in Numbers ; knights if I had knowne you would haue let this couy of Partridges sit thus long vpon their knees vnder my signe post , I would haue spred my dore with old Couerlids .

Sir Ar. Well sir , for this your signe was remoued , was it ? Host. Faith wee followed the directions of the deuill ,

Master Peter Fabell and Smug , Lord blesse vs , could neuer stand vpright since .

Sir Ar. You sir , t was you was his minister that married them . Sir Io.

Sir to proue my selfe an honest man , being that I was last night in the forrest stealing Venison ; now sir to haue you stand my friend , if that matter should bee calld in question , I married you daughter to this worthy gentleman .

Sir Ar.

I may chaunce to requite you , and make your necke crack for 't .

Sir Io. If you doe , I am as resolute as my Neighbour vicar of Waltham Abby : ahem , Grasse and hay , wee are all mortall , Let s liue till we be hangd mine host , And be merry and there s an end . Fab. Now knights I enter , now my part begins . To end this difference , know , at first I knew What you intended , ere your loue tooke flight , From old Mountchensey : you sir Arthur Clare , Were minded to haue married this sweete beauty , To yong Franke Ierningham ; to crosse which match , I vsde some pretty sleights , but I protest Such as but sate vpon the skirts of Art , No coniurations , nor such weighty spells , As tie the soule to their performancy : Theese for his loue who once was my deere puple , Haue I effected : now mee thinks t is strange , That you being old in wisedome should thus knit , Your forehead on this match ; since reason failes , No law can curbe the louers rash attempt , Yeares in resisting this are sadly spent : Smile then vpon your daughter and kind sonne , And let our toyle to future ages proue , The deuill of Edmonton did good in Loue . Sir Ar. Well t is in vaine to crosse the prouidence : Deere Sonne , I take thee vp into my hart , Rise daughter , this is a kind fathers part . Host. Why Sir George send for Spindles noise , presently , Ha , er t be night , i le serue the good Duke of Norfolke . Pri.

Grasse and hay , mine host , le ts liue till we die , and be mery and there 's an end .

Sir Ar. What , is breakfast ready mine Host ? Host. T is my little Hebrew . Sir Ar. Sirra ride strait to Chesson Nunry . Fetch thence my Lady , the house I know , By this time misses their yong votary : Come knights le ts in . Bil.

I will to horse presentlye sir ; a plague a my Lady , I shall misse a good breakfast . Smug how chaunce you cut so plaguely behind Smug ?

Smu. Stand away ; i le founder you else . Bil. Farewell Smug , thou art in another element . Smu. I will be by and by , I will be Sir George againe , Sir Ar. Take heed the fellow do not hurt himselfe . Sir Rap. Did we not last night find two S. Georges here . Fab. Yes Knights , this martialist was one of them . Cla. Then thus conclude your night of meriment . Exeunt Omnes .

FINIS .