Transcript

Act V · The Witch of Edmonton

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Act five of The Witch of Edmonton by William Rawleigh, Thomas S. Dacker,
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and John Ford. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are
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in the public doming. For more information or de volunteer, please visit LibriVox
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dot org. Act the fifth seen one the Witch's cottage and her mother Sawyer
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still wronged by every slave, and not a dog bark in his dame's defense.
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I am called witch, Yet am myself bewitched from doing harm? Have
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I given up myself to thy black lust? Thus to be scorn'd not see
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me in three days? I'm lost without my Tomolin Prithee. Come. Revenge
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to me is sweeter far than life. Thou art, my raven, on
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whose coal black wings, revenge comes flying to me, O, my best
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love, I am on fire, even in the midst of ice, raking
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my blood up till my shrunk knees feel thy curled head leaning on them.
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Come, then, my darling. If in the air thou horst fall upon
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me in some dark cloud, and as I oft have seen dragons and serpents
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in the elements appear thou now so to me art Thou in the sea,
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must up all the monsters from the deep, and be the ugliest of them,
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so that my bolts show. But his swart cheek to me, let
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earth cleave and break from hell. I care not. Could I run like
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a swift powder mine beneath the world up. I would blow it all to
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find out THEE, though I lay ruined in it. Not yet come.
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I must then fall to my old prayer, sunk to be setour no mentum
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not yet come the worrying of wolves, biting of mad dogs, the manges
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and thee, And to the dog which is now white? How now whom
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art thou cursing thee? Ha, No, it is my black cur.
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I am cursing for not attending on me. I am that cur thou liest.
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Hence come not niy me bar war. Why dost thou thus appear to
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me in white, as if thou wert the ghost of my dear love.
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I am dogged and list not to tell THEE yet to torment thee. My
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whiteness puts THEE in mind of thy winding sheet. Am I near death?
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Yes? If the dog of Hell be near THEE. When the devil comes
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to THEE as a lamb, have at thy throat off cur he has the
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back of a sheep, but the belly of an otter devours by sea and
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land. Why am I in white? Didst thou not pray to me?
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Yes, thou dissembling hellhound, Why now in white, more than at other
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times be blasted with the news. Whiteness is day's footboy, a forerunner to
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light, which shows thy old reveled face. Villainies are stripped naked. The
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witch must be beaten out of her cockpit, must she? She shall not
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thou art a lying spirit? Why to mine eyes art thou a flag of
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truce? I am at peace with none. Tis the black color or none
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which I fight under. I do not like thy puritan paleness. Glowing furnaces
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are far more hot than they which flame outright. If thou, my old
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dog, art, go and bite such as I shall set thee on,
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I will not. I'll sell myself to twenty thousand fiends to have thee torn
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in pieces. Then thou canst not thou art so ripe to fall into hell
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that no more of my kennel will so much as bark at him that hangs
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thee. I shall run mad do so thy time is come to curse and
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rave and die. The glass of thy sins is full, and it must
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run out at gallows. It cannot ugly occur. I'll confess nothing, and
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not confessing who dare come and swear I have bewitched them. I'll not confess
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one mouthful, choose and be hanged or burned spite of the devil under thee.
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I'll muzzle up my tongue from telling tales spite of thee and the devil.
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Thou'lt be condemned. Yes, when and here the executioner catch thee full
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in his claws, thou'lt confess all out, dog, out which thy trial
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is at hand, our prey being had. The devil does laughing, stand
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runs aside, and her old banks Ratcliffe and countrymen. She's here at thatcher
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which you must go with us. They sees her whither to hell. No,
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no, no, old crone, your mitemus shall be made thither,
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but your own jailers shall receive you away with her. My Tommy, my
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sweet tomboy, Or thou dog, dost thou now fly to thy kennel and
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forsake me plagues and consumptions. She is carried off. Ha ha ha.
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Let not the world witches or devils condemn they follow us, and then we
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follow them and her cuddy Banks. I would fain meet with my Ningle once
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more. He has had a claw amongst them. My rival that loved my
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wench, is like to be hanged, like an innocent, a kind cur
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where he takes where he takes, not a dogged rascal. I know the
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villain loves me. The dog backs No art thou there seeing the dog?
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That's Tom's voice, But tis not he? This is a dog of another
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hair, this bark, and not speak to me, not Tom. Then
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there's as much difference TwixT Tom and this as TwixT white and black. Hast
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thou forgot me? That's Tom again? Prythee Ningle speak? Is thy name?
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Tom? Whilst I served my old Dame Sawyer, twas I'm gone from
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her, now gone away with the witch. Then too, she'll never thrive
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if thou leavest her. She knows no more how to kill a cow,
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or a horse, or a sow without thee. Then she does to kill
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a goose. No, she has done killing now, but must be killed
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for what she has done. She's shortly to be hanged. Is she in
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my conscience? If she be tis thou hast brought her to the gallows,
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Tom right, I served her to that purpose twards part of my wages.
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This is no honest servant's part. By your leave, Tom, just remember
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I pray you. Between you and I I entertained you ever as a dog,
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not as a devil, true, And so I used thee doggedly,
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not devilishly. I have deluded thee for sport to laugh at the wench thou
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seekst after thou never speakest with but a spirit in her form, habit and
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likeness. I do not there and wonder at the change of your garments if
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you can enter into shapes of women too, any shape to blind such silly
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eyes as thine, but chiefly those coarse creatures dog or cat, hair,
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ferret, frog, toad, louse, or flee any poor vermin. It
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seems you devils have poor, thin soles that you can bestow yourselves in such
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small bodies. But pray you Tom. One question at parting, I think
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I shall never see you more. Where do you borrow those bodies that are
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none of your own? A garment shape you may hire at brokers? Why
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wouldst thou know that fall it avails THEE, not only for my mind's sake,
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Tom to tell some of my friends. I'll thus much tell THEE Thou
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never art so distant from an evil spirit, but that thy oaths, curses
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and blasphemies pull him to thine elbow. Thou never tell'st a lie, but
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that a devil is within hearing it. Thy evil purposes are ever haunted.
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But when they come to act as thy tongue slandering, bearing false witness,
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thy hand stabbing, stealing, cousining, cheating, He's then within THEE.
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Thou playest he bets upon thy part. Although thou lose, yet he will
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gain by THEE. Aye. Then he comes in the shape of a rook,
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the old cadaver of some self strangled wretch. We sometimes borrow and appear
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human, the carcass of some disease slain strumpet we varnish fresh and wear as
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her first beauty did never hear. If not it has been done and hot
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luxurious lecture in his twines. When he has thought to clip his dalliance,
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there has provided been for his embrace a fine, hot, flaming devil in
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her place. Yes, I am partly a witness to that well. I
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never could embrace her. I thank THEE for that, Tom. Well again
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I thank THEE Tom for all this council without a fee too. There's a
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few lawyers of thy mind. Now, certainly, Tom, I begin to
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pity THEE. Pity me for what were it not possible for THEE to become
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an honest dog? Yet tis a base life that you need, Tom,
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to serve witches, to kill innocent children, to kill harmless cattle, destroy
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cord and fruit, etc. Which were better? Yet to be a butcher
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and kill for yourself? Why these are all my delights, my pleasures for
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or Tom. If you could give your mind to ducking, I know you
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can swim, fetch and carry. Some shopkeeper in London would take great delight
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in you. Be a tender master over you. Or if you have a
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mind to the game, either at ball or bear, I think I could
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prefer you to mold cut purse. I should kill all the game, balls,
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bears, dogs, and all not a cub to be left. You
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could do, Tom, but you must play fair. You could be staved
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off else. Or if your stomach did better, like to serve in some
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nobleman's knights or gentleman's kitchen. If you could brook the wheel and turn the
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spit, your labor could not be much. When they have roast meat that's
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once or twice in a week at most. He might lick your own toes
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very well. Or if you could translate yourself into a lady's arming puppy,
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there you might lick sweet lips and do many pretty officers. But to creep
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under an old witch's coats and suck like a great puppy figh upon it.
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I've heard beastly things of you, Tom, the worst thou heardst of me,
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the better tis? Shall I serve the fall at the self same rate?
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No, I'll see the hand thou shalt be damned first. I know
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thy qualities too well. I'll give no suck to such whelps. Therefore,
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henceforth I defy thee out and a vaunt. Nor will I serve for such
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a silly soul. I am for greatness, now corrupted greatness. There I'll
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shug in and get a noble countenance. Serve some briary and footcloth strider that
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has an hundred hands to catch at bribes, but not a finger's nail of
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charity such like the dragon's tail. Shall put down hundreds to drop and sink
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with him. I'll stretch myself and draw this bulk small as a silver wire.
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Enter at the least poor tobacco fume can make a breach. For Hence,
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silly fool, I scorn to prey on such an atom. Soul,
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Come out, Come out, you cur I will beat THEE out of the
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bounds of Edmonton. And tomorrow we go in procession, and after thou shalt
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never come in again. If thou goest to London, I'll make THEE go
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about by Tyburn, stealing in by thieving lane, if they'll cost rub thy
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shoulder against a lawyer's gown. As thou passest by Westminster Hall, do if
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not to the stairs amongst the band dogs take water and the devil go with
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thee exit followed by the dog barking Scene two London, the neighborhood of Tyburn.
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Enter Justice Sir Arthur, Somerton, Warbeck, Carter and Catherine, Sir
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Arthur. Though the bench hath mildly censored your errors, yet you have indeed
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been the instrument that wrought all their misfortunes. I would wish you paid down
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your fine speedily and willingly I'll need no urging to it if you should twere
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ashamed to you, For if I should speak my conscience, you are worthier
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to be hanged of the two, all things considered, And now make what
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you can of it. But I am glad these gentlemen are freed. We
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knew our innocence and therefore feared it not. But I am glad that I
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have you safe. A noise with it. How now what noise is that
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young Frank is going the wrong way? Alas poor youth. Now I begin
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to pity him, enter old thorny and winifreit weeping here, Let our sorrows
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wait him to press nearer the place of his sad death. Some apprehensions may
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tempt our grief too much at height. Already daughter be comforted. Comfort and
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I are too far separated to be joined. But in eternity I share too
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much of him that's going thither, poor woman. Twas not thy fault.
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I grieve to see thee weep for him. That hath my pity too.
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My fault was lost, my punishment was shame. Yet I am happy that
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my soul is free both from consent for knowledge and intent of any murder.
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But of mine own honor restored again by a fair satisfaction, And since not
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to be wounded, daughter grieved not for what necessity forceth rather resolved to conquer
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it with patience alas she faints. My griefs are strong upon me. My
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weakness scarce can bear them within Away with her hang her witch enter to execution
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mother Sawyer, officers with halberts, followed by a crowd of country people,
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the witch, that instrument of mischief? Did not you wish that devil into
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my son in law when he killed my poor daughter? Do you hear,
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Mother Sawyer? What would you have? Cannot a poor old woman have your
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leave to die without vexation? Did you not be witchfl r to kill his
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wife? He could never have done it without the devil? Who doubts it?
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But is every devil mine? Would I had one now whom I might
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command to tear you all in pieces? Tom would have done it before he
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left me? Thou didst bewitch and Ratcliffe to kill herself? Churl thou liest
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I never did her hurt? Would you were all as near your end as
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I am? That gave evidence against me for it? Oh be swore Master
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Carter she'd bewitch Gamma wish both sail to cast her pigs. A day before
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she would have farrowed. Yet they were sent up to London and sold for
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as good as Westminster dog picks. Both allow you fair as ever great belly
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Dale wife longed for these dogs, will mad me. I was well resolved
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to die in my repentance, though tis true I would live longer if I
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might. Yet, since I cannot pray, torment me not. My conscience
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is settled as it shall be. All take heed, how they believe the
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devil at last? He'll cheat you. Thou the best confess art truly?
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Yet again, have I scarce breath enough to say my prayers? And would
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you force me to spend that in balling bear witness? I repent all former
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evil. There is no damned conjurer like the devil. Ohway with her away
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she has led off enter Frank to execution officers, et cetera. He is
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the sad object which I yet must meet with hope of comfort. If a
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repentant end make him more happy, the misfortune would suffer him here to be
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good. Sirs, turn from me, you will revive affliction. Almost killed
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with my continual sorrow, Oh Frank, Frank, would I had sunk in
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mine own wants or died, but one bare minute ere thy fault was acted.
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To look upon your sorrows executes me before my execution. Let me pray
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you, sir, thou much wronged woman. I must sigh for THEE as
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he that's only loathe to leave the world, for that he leaves THEE in
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it, unprovided, unfriended. And for me to beg a pity from any
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man to THEE when I am gone is more than I can hope, nor
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to say truth. Have I deserved it? But there is a payment belongs
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to goodness from the great exchequer above. It will not fail THEE winifred be
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that thy comfort, Let it be thine too, untimely lost young man,
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he is not lost who bears his peace within him. Had I spun my
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web of life out at full length and dreamed away my many years in lusts,
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in surfeits, murders of reputations, gallant sins, condemned or approv'd,
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then though I had died easily as great and rich men do, upon mine
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own bed, not compell'd by justice, you might have mourned for me.
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Indeed my miseries had been as everlasting as remediless. But now the law have
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not arraigned, condemned with greater rigor my unhappy fact than I myself have every
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little sin my memory can reckon from my childhood. A court have been kept
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here where I am found guilty. The difference is my impartial judge is much
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more gracious than my faults are monstrous to be named, Yet they are monstrous.
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He is comfort in this penitence. It speaks how truly you are reconciled,
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and quickens my dying comfort that was near expiring with my last breath.
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Now this repentance makes THEE as white as innocence. And my first sin with
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THEE, since which I knew none like it. By my sorrow is clearly
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canceled. Might our souls together climb to the height of their eternity tea,
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and there enjoy what earth denied us happiness. But since I must survive and
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be the monument of thy loved memory, I will preserve it with a religious
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care and pay thy ashes a widow's duty, calling that end best which the
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witch stain the name makes the soul blessed. Frank responds, give me thy
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hand, poor woman, do not weep? Farewell thou dost forgive me?
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Tis my part to use that language, Oh, that my example might teach
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the world hereafter what a curse hangs on their heads? Who rather choose to
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marry a goodly portion than a dower of virtues? Are you there, gentlemen?
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There is not one amongst you whom I have not wronged. To carter
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you most I robbed you of a daughter. But she is in heaven,
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and I must suffer for it willingly. I I she is in heaven,
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and I am so glad to see THEE so well prepared to follow her.
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I forgive THEE with all my heart. If thou hadst not had ill consel,
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thou wouldst not have done as thou didst. The more shame for them.
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Spare your excuse to me. I do conceive what you would speak.
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Why would you could as easily make satisfaction to the law as to my wrongs.
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I am sorry for you, and so am I and heartily forgive you.
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I will pray for you for her sake, who I'm sure did love
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you daily. Let us part friendly, too. I am ashamed of my
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part, and thy wrongs. You are all merciful and send me to my
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grave in peace, Sir, Arthur, Heaven send you a new heart.
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Lastly to you, sir, and though I have deserved not to be called
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your son, yet give me leave upon my knees to beg a blessing.
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Niels take it. Let me wet thy cheeks with the last tears my griefs
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have. Lift me. Oh, Frank, Frank, Frank, Let me
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beseech you, gentlemen, to comfort my old father. Keep him with you,
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Love this distressed widow. And as often as you remember what a graceless
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man I was, remember likewise that these are both free, both worthy of
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a better fate than such a son or husband as I have been. All
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help me with your prayers. On on tis just that law should purge the
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guilt of blood and lust. Exit let off by the officers, go thy
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ways. I did not think to have shed one tear for thee, but
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thou hast made me water my plant spite of my heart. Master thorny,
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cheer up man. Whilst I can stand by you, you shall not want
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help to keep you from falling. We have lost our children, both on
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the wrong way, but we could not help it better or worse tis now
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as tis I thank you, Sir, you are more kind than I have
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cause to hope or look for. Master Somerton. Is Kate yours or no?
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We are agreed, and but my faith is passed. I should fare
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to be married. Husbands are so cruelly unkind. Excuse me that I am
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thus troubled. Thou shalt have no cause. Take comfort, Mistress Winterfrid.
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Sir Arthur, for his abuse to you and to your husband is by the
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bench enjoined to pay you down a thousand marks, which I will soon discharge.
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Sir, tis too great a sum to be employed upon my funeral.
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Come come. If luck had served, Sir Arthur, and every man had
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his due, somebody might have tottered ere this without paying fines like it as
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you list come to me, Winnifred shalt be welcome, make much of her,
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Kate, I charge you, I do not think. But she's a
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good wench and hath had wrong as well as we. So let's every man
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home to Edmonton with heavy hearts, yet as merry as we can, though
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not as we would join friends in sorrow. Make of all the best arms
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past may be lamented not redressed. Exit epilogue, spoken by Winifred. I
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am a widow still and must not sort a second choice without a good report,
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which though some widows find, and few deserve. Yet I dare not
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presume, but will not swerve from modest hopes. All noble tongues are free,
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the gentle may speak one kind word for me. And of Act five
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D of The Witch of Edmonton by William Rowley, Thomas Decker and John Ford