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find my way home ; and knowing your worship's Doc. I thank you:--Believe, me, to-morrow hospitality, desire the favour to be harboured you shall be the richest woman in the hundred, under your roof to-night.

and ride in your own coach. Lady. Out of my house, you lewd conjurer, Nell. O father ! you jeer me. you magician!

Doc. By my art, I do not. But mark my Doc. Here's a turn!-Here's a change!-Well, words; be confident, and bear all out, or worse if I have any art, ye shall smart for this. (Aside. will follow. Sir John. You see, friend, I am not master of Nell. Never fear, sir, I warrant you

O my own house; therefore, to avoid any uneasi- gemini! a coach! ness, go down the lane about a quarter of a mile, and you'll see a cobler's cottage; stay there a

AIR.—Send home my long-strayed eyes. little, and I'll send my servant to conduct you to My swelling heart now leaps for joy, a tenant's house, where you'll be well entertained. And riches all my thoughts employ ;

Doc. I thank you, sir; I'm your most humble No more shall people call me Nell, servant.—But, as for your lady there, she shall Her ladyship will do as well. this night feel my resentment,

[Eril. Decked in my golden, rich array, Sir John. Come, madam; you and I must I'll in my chariot roll away, have some conference together.

And shine at ring, at ball, and pluy. Lady. Yes, I will have a conference and a

Enter Jobson. reformation, too, in this house, or I'll turn it upside down—I will.

Job. Where is this qucan? Here, Nell! What AIR.-Contented country farmer.

a pox, are you drunk with your lamb's-wooll?

Nell. O husband ! here's the rarest manele Sir John. Grant me, ye powers, but this request, has told me my fortune!

And let who will the world contest; Job. Has he so? and planted my fortune,
Convey her to some distant shore, too! a lusty pair of horns upon my head !-Eh?
Where I may ne'er behold her more : -Is it not so?
Or let me to some cottage fly,

Doc. Thy wife is a virtuous woman, and thou
In freedom's arms to live and die. wilt be happy.

(Exeunt. Job. Come out, you hang-dog, you juggler,

you cheating, bamboozling villain!' must I be SCENE III.-The Cobler's.

cuckolded by such rogues as you are ? mackma

ticians, and almanack-makers ! Nell, and the Doctor,

Neli. Prithee, peace, husband! we shall be

rich, and have a coach of our own. Ndl. Pray, sir, mend your draught, if you Job. A coach! a cart, a wheel-barrow, you please ; you are very welcome, sir,

jade! By the mackin, she's drunk, bloody Doc. Thank you heartily, good woman, and to drunk, most confoundedly drunk !–Get you to requite your civility, I'll tell you your fortune. bed, you strumpet.

[Beats her. Nell. 0, pray do, sir; I never had my fortune Nell. O, mercy on us! is this a taste of my told me in my life.

good fortune? Doc. Let me behold the lines in your face. Doc. You bad better not have touched her,

Nell. I'm afraid, sir, 'tis none of the cleanest; you surly rogue. I have been about dirty work all this day. Job. Out of my house, you villain, or I'll run

Doc. Come, come, 'tis a good face; be not my awl up to the handle in your body! ashamed of it; you shall shew it in greater places Doc. Farewell, you paltry slave. suddenly.

Job. Get out, you rogue ! [Ereunt. Nell. O dear sir, I shall be mightily ashamed ! I want dacity when I coine before great folks.

SCENE IV.-Changes to an open country. Doc. You must be confident, and fear no

Doctor. thing; there is much happiness attends you.

Nell, Oh me! this is a rare man! Heaven be AIR.—The spirit's song in Macbeth. thanked !

My little spirits now appear, Doc. To-morrow, before suprise, you shall be Nadir and Abishog draw near, the happiest woman in this country.

The time is short, make no delay, Nell. How! by to-morrow ? alack-a-day! sir, bow cao that be?

Then quickly haste, and come away; Doc. No more shall you be troubled with a

Nor moon, nor stars afford their light,

But all is wrapt in gloomy night : surly husband, that rails at, and straps you.

Both men and beasts to rest incline, Nell. Lud! how came he to kvow that? He

And all things favour my design, must be a conjurer! Indeed my husband is somewhat rugged, and in bis cups will beat

Spirits. [Within.] Say, master, what is to be

me, but it is not much. He's an honest pains-taking

done? man, and I let him have his way. Pray, sir, take Doct. My strict commands be sure attend, the other cup of ale.

For, ere this night shall have an end,


You must this cobler's wife transform, Thou first broke the commandement,
And, to the knight's, the like perform :

In honour of thy wife :
With all your most specific charms,

When Adam heard her say these words,
Convey each wife to different arms ;

He ran away for life.
Let the delusion be so strong,

Lady. Why, busband! Sir John! will you
That none may know the right from wrong. suffer ine to be thus insulted?
Within In thunder,lightning, and a storm.
we will with care perform, Job. Husband ! Sir John! what a-pox, has

she knighted me? And my name's Zekel too! a [Thunder. good jest, faith!

Lady. Ha! he's gone; he is not in the bed. SCENE V.-Changes to the Cobler's house. Heaven! where am I ? Foh! what loathsome JOBSON at work. The bed in view.

smells are here? Canvass sheets, and a filthy Job. What devil has been abroad to-night? I ragged curtain; a beastly rug, and a flock bed. never heard such claps of thunder in my life, I Am I awake? or is it all a dream? What rogue thought my little hovel would have flown away; is that? Sirrah! Where am I? Who brought me but now all is clear again, and a fine star-light hither? What rascal are you? morning it is. I'll settle myself to work. They Job. This is amazing! I never heard such say winter's thunder bring summer's wonder.

words from her before. If I take my strap to

you, I'll make you know your husband. I'll teach AIR.-Charming Sally.

you better manners, you saucy drab! Of all the trades from east to west,

Lady. Oh, astonishing impudence! You my The cobler's, past contending,

husband, sirrah? I'll have you banged, you Is like in time to prove the best,

rogue! I'm a lady. Let me know who has given Which every day is mending.

me a sleeping-draught, and conveyed me hither,

you dirty variet? How great his praise who can amend

Job. A sleeping-draught! yes, you drunken The soals of all his neighbours,

jade; you had a sleeping-draught with-a-pox to Nor is unmindful of his end,

you. What, has not your lambs-wooll done workBut to his last still labours,

ing yet? Lady. Heyday ! what impudent ballad-singing husband put me? Lucy! Lettice! Where are

Lady. Where am I? Where has iny villainous rogue is that, who dares wake me out of

my sleep? I'll have you flead, you rascal!

iny queans? Job. What a pox ! does she talk in her sleep? maids, too? The conjurer has made her mad as

Job. Ha, ha, ha! what, does she call her or is she drunk still?


well as drunk, AIR.--Now ponder well, ye parents dear. Lady. Ile talks of conjurers; sure I am be

witched. Ha! what clothes are here: a lindseyIn Bath, a wanton wife did dwell,

woolsey gown, a calico hood, a red bays pettiAs Chaucer he did write,

coat! I am removed from my own bouse by Who wuntonly did spend her time

witchcraft. What must I do? What will become In many a fond delight.

of me?

[Horns wind without. All on a time sore sick she was,

Job. Hark! the hunters and the merry horns And she at length did die, And then her soul at paradise

are abroad. Why, Nell, you lazy jade, 'tis break Did knock most mightily.

of day! to work, to work! come and spin, you

drab, or I'll tan your hide for you! What-a-pox, Lady. Why, villain, rascal, screech-owl! who must I he at work two hours before you in a makest a worse noise than a dog hung in the morning? pales, or a hog in a high wind; where are all their dost thou not

know me, you rogue?

Lady. Why, sirrah, thou impudent villain, servants? Somebody come, and hamstring this rogue.

Knocks. Job. Know you! yes, I know you well enough, Job. Why, how now, you brazen quean! You and I'll make you know ine before I have done

with must get drunk with the conjurer, must you? you. I'll give you money another time to spend in Lady. I am Sir John Loverule's lady; how

caine I here? lamb's-wooll, you saucy jade, shall I? Ludy. Monstrous! I can find no bell to ring.

Job. Sir Johu Loverule's lady! no, Nell; not Where are my servants ? They shall toss hin in quite so bad, neither; that damned stingy, fanaa blanket.

tic whore, plagues every one that comes near Job. Ay, the jade's asleep still; the conjurer her; the whole country curses her. told her she should keep her coach, and she is

Lady. Nay, then, I'll hold no longer;you rogue! dreaming of her equipage.

(Sings you insolent villain! I'll teach you better manners.

(Flings the bedstaff, und other things, at him. I will come in, in spite, she said,

Job. This is more than ever I saw by her; I Of all such churts os thee,

never had an ill word from her before. Come, Thou art the cause of all our pain, strap, I'll try your mettle; I'll sober you, Our grief and misery :

rant you, quean. [He straps her, she flies at him.

I war

Lady. I'll pull your throat out; I'll tear out The cobler has nought to perplex him; your eyes! I am a lady, sirrah. O murder ! Has nought but his wife murder! Sir John Loverule will hang you for To ruffle his life, this ; murder! murder!

And her he can strap if she vex him. Job. Come, bussy, leave fooling, and come to your spinning, or else I'll lamb you; you ne'er

He's out of the power was so lambed since you were an inch long. Of fortune, that whore, Take it up, you jade.

Since low as can be she has thrust him; [She flings it down, he straps her.

From duns he's secure, Lady. IIold, hold ! I'll do any thing.

For being so poor, Job. "Oh! I thought I should bring you to There's none to be found that will trust him. yourself again.

Lady. What shall I do? I can't spin. (Aside. Heyday, I think the jade's brain is turned! What, Job. I'll into my stall; 'tis broad day, now, have you forgot to spin, hussy?

[Works and sings. Lady. But I have not forgot to run,

try my feet; I shall find somebody in the town, AIR.-Come, let us prepare.

sure, that will succour me. (She runs out,

Job. What, does she run for it? I'll aiter ber. Let matters of state

[He runs out. Disquiet the great,

I'll e'en


SCENE I.-Changes to Sir John's house. Let. Now's my time! what, to have another

tooth beat out! -Madamn! NELL in bed.

Nell. What dost say, my dear? O father! Nell. What pleasant dreams I have had to what would she bave! night! Methought I was in paradise, upon a bed

Let. What work would your ladyship please of violets and roses, and the sweetesi husband to have done to-day? Shall I work plain work; by my side! Ha! bless me, where am I now? or go to my stitching? What sweets are these? No garden in the spring

Nell. Work, child ! 'tis holiday; no work tocan equal them: AmIon a bed ? The sheets are day. sursenet sure! no linen ever was so fine. What Let. Oh, mercy! am I, or she awake? or do a gay silken robe have I got? 0 Heaven! Iwe both dream? Here's a blessed change? dream! Yet, if this be a dream, I would not wish Lucy. If it continues, we shall be a happy fato wake again. Sure, I died last night, and went mily. 10 Heaven, and this is it.

Let. Your ladyship's chocolate is ready.

Nell. Mercy on me! what's that? Some garEnter Lucy.

ment I suppose? [Aside. )--Put it on then, sweetLucy. Now must I awake an alarm, that will heart. not lie still again till midnight, at soonest; the

Let. Put it on, madam! I have taken it off; first greeting, I suppose, will be jade, or whore. 'tis ready to drink. Madam! madan!

Nell. I mean, put it by; I don't care for drinkNell, O gemini! who's this? What dost say, ing now. sweetheart?

Enter Cook. Lucy. Sweetheart! Oh lud, sweetheart! the best games I have had these three months froin Cook. Now go I like a bear to the stake, to her, have been slut, or whore.--What gowu know her scurvy ladyship's coinmands about dinand ruffles will your ladyship wear to-day? ner. How many rascally names naust I be called.

Nell. What does she mean? Ladyship! gown! Let. On, John Cook! you'll be out of your and ruffles ! Sure I am awake : Oh! I remember wits to find my lady in so sweet a temper. the cunning man now.

Cook. What a devil! are they all mad? Lucy. Did your ladyship speak?

Lucy. Madam, here's the cook come about Nei. Ay, child; I'll wear the same I did yes- dinner. terday.

Nell. Oh! there's a fine cook! He looks like Lucy, Mercy upon me!-Child !-Here's a

one of your gentlefolks. [riside.]-Indeed, homiracle !

nest man, I'm very hungry now; pray get me a

rasher upon the coals, a piece of one milk cheese, Enter LETTICE.

and some white bread, Let. Is my lady awake ? bave you had her Cook. Hey! what's to do here? my head turns shoe or her slipper fung at your head yet? round. Honest man! I looked for rogue or ras

Lucy. Oh no, I'm overjoyed; she's in the kind-cal, at least. She's strangely changed in her diet, est bamour ! go to the bed, and speak to her; as well as her humour. (Aside.}-- I'm afraid, now is your time.

madam, cheese and bacon will sit very hearyan

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your ladyship's stomach, in a morning. If you Sir John. This is astonishing! I must go and please, madam, I'll toss you up a white fricasee inquire into this wonder. If this be true, I shall of chickens in a trice, inadam; or what does rejoice indeed. your ladysbip think of a veal sweetbread? But. Tis true, sir, upon my honour. Long

Nell. E'on what you will, good cook. live Sir John and my lady; huzza ! [Ereunt.

Cook. Good cook! good cook! Ah! 'tis a sweet lady!

Enter NELL.
Enter Butler.

Nell, I well remember the cunning man warnOh! kiss me, Chip, I am out of my wits: We he said, would follow. I am ashamed, and know

ed me to bear all out with confidence, or worse have the kindest, sweetest lady! But. You shamming rogue, I think you are out

not what to do with all this ceremony: I am

amazed, and out of my senses. I looked in the of your wits, all of ye; the maids look merrily, glass, and saw a gay fine thing I knew not; me

thought my face was not åt all like that I have Lucy. Here's the butler, madam, to know your seen at home, in a piece of looking glass fastened ladyship's orders.

upon the cupboard. But great ladies, they say, Nell.Oh! pray Mr. Butler ! let me have some have flattering glasses, that shew them far uplike small beer when

coines in, But. Mr. Butler! Mr. Butler ! I shall be turn-them e'en just as they are.

themselves, whilst poor folks glasses represent ed into stone with amazement! (Aside.]Would not your ladyship rather have a glass of Frontiniac, or Lacryme?

AIR.- When I was a dame of honour. Nell. O dear! what hard names are there!

Fine ladies, with an artful grace, but I must not betray myself. [Aside.}-Well,

Disguise each native feature; which you please, Mr. Butler.

Whilst flattering glasses shew the face,

As made by art, not nature;
Enter Coachmau.

But we poor folks in home-spun grey,
But. Go, get you in, and be rejoiced as I am. By patch nor washes tainted,
Coach. The cook has been making his game

I Look fresh and sweeter far than they, know not how long. What, do you banter, loo?

That still are finely painted. Lucy. Madam, the coachman.

Lucy. O madam! here's my master just rcCoach. I come to know if your ladyship goes turned from hunting. out to-day, and which you'll have, the coach or chariot.

Enter Sir John. Nell. Good lack-a-day! I'll ride in the coach, Nell. O gemini ! this fine gentleman my husif you please.

band ! Coach. The sky will fall, that's certain. [Exit. Sir John. My dear, I am overjoyed to see my

Nell. I can hardly think I am awake yet. How family thus transported with exstasy which you well pleased they all seem to wait upon me! 0

occasioned. notable cunning man! My head turns round! I Nell. Sir, I shall always be proud to do every am quite giddy with my own happiness. thing, that may give you delight, or your family

satisfaction. AIR.- What though I am a country laşs.

Sir John. By Heaven, I am charmed! dear Though late I was a cobler's wife,

creature, if thou continuest thus, I had rather In cottage most obscure-a.

enjoy thee than the Indies. But can this be real? In plain stuf-goun, and short-eared coif, May I believe my senses? Hard labour did endure-a :

Nell. All that's good above can witness for The scene is changed, I'm altered quite, me, I am in earnest.

[Kneels. And from poor humble Nell-a.

Sir John. Rise, my dearest! Now am I happy I'll learn to dance, to read, and write,

indeed -Where are my friends, my servants ? And from all bear the bell-a. [Erit. call them all, and let then be witnesses of my


[Erit. Enter Sir John, meeting his Servants.

Nell. O rare, sweet man! he smells all over But. Oh, sir, here's the rarest news ! like a nosegay. Heaven preserve my wits !

Lucy. There never was the like, sir! you'll be overjoyed and amazed.

AIR.—'Twas within a furlong, &c. Sir John. What, are ye mad? What's the mat- Nell. O charming cunning man! thou hast been ter with ye? How now! here's a uew face in my

wondrous kind, family; what's the meaning of this?

And all thy golden words do now prove But. Ob, sir! the family's turned upside down,

true, I find ; We are almost distracted; the happiest people!

Ten thousand transports wait, Lucy. Ay, my lady, sir, my lady.

Po crown my happy state, Sir John. What, iş she dead?

Thus kissed, and pressed, But. Dead! Heaven forbid ! O! she's the best

And doubly blessed woman, the sweetest lady!

In all this pomp and state :

New scenes of joy arise,


Dear sir, you make me proud:
Which fill me with surprise ;

Be you but kind,
My rock, and reel,

And you shull find
And spinning-wheel,

All the good I can boast of
And husband I despise ;

Shall end but with

my life.
Then Jobson, now adieu,

Sir John. Give me thy lips ;
Thy cobling still pursue,

Nell. First let me, dear sir, wipe them; For hence I will not, cannot, no, nor must not, Sir John. Was ever so sweet a wife ! buckle to. [Exit.

[Kisses her.

Nell. Thank you, dear sir !
SCENE II.-Jobson's house,

I vow and protest,

I ne'er was so kissed;
Enter Lady

Again, sir !
Lady. Was ever lady yet so miserable? I can't Sir John. Again, und uguin, my dearest !
make one soul in the village acknowledge me;

O may it last for life! they sure are all of the conspiracy. This wicked

What joys thus to enfold thee ! husband of mine has laid a devilish plot against Nell. What pleasure to behold thee ! me. I must at present submit, that I may bere

Inclined again to kiss! after have an opportunity of executing iny de Sir John. How ravishing the bliss ! sign. Here comes the rogue; I'll have him Nell. I little thought this morning, strangled; but now I must yield.

'Twould ever come to this.

[Da Capo. Enter Jobson.

Enter Lady. Job. Come on, Nell; art thou come to thyself yet?

Lady. Here's a fine rout and rioting! You, Lady. Yes, I thank you, I wonder what I ailed; sirrah, butler, you rogue ! this cunning man has put powder in my drink,

But. Why, low now! Who are you? most certainly.

Lady. Impudent varlet ! Don't you know your Job. Powder! the brewer put good store of lady? powder of malt in it, that's all. Powder, quoth But. Lady! here, turn this mad woman out of she ! ba, ha, ha!

doors! Lady. I never was so all the days of my lifc. Lady. You rascal ! take that, sirrah! Job. Was so ! no, nor 1 hope ne'er will be so

(Flings u glass at him. again, to put me to the trouble of strapping you

Foot. Have a care, hussy! there's a good pump so devilishly.

without; we shall cool your courage for you. Lady. I'll have that right hand cut off for thai, Lady. You, Lucy, have you forgot me too, rogue. (Aside.]—You was unmerciful to bruise you minx?

Lucy. Forgot you, woman! Why, I never reJob. Well, I'm going to Sir John Loverule's; membered you ; I never saw you before in my all his tenants are invited; there's to be rare

life. feasting and revelling, and open house kept for

Ludy. Oh, the wicked slut! I'll give you cause three months.

to remember me, I will, bussy. Lady. Husband, shan't I go with you?

(Pulls her headcloths off: Job. What the devil ails thee now? Did I not Lucy. Murder ! Murder! Help! tell thee but yesterday, I would strap thee for

Sir John. How now! What uproar's this? desiring to go, and art thou at it again, with a Lady. You, Lettice, you slut! Won't you pox?

know me, neither?

[Strikes her. Lody. What does the villain mean by strap

Let. Help, help! ping, and yesterday!

Sir John. What's to do there? Job, Why, I have been married but six weeks, But. Why, sir, here's a madwoman calls her and you long to make me me a cuckold already self my lady, and is beating and cuffing us all Stay at home, and be hanged ! there's good cold round. pye in the cupboard; but I'll trust thee no more Sir John. (To Lady.)-Thou my wife! poor with strong beer, hussy.

[Exit. creature! I pity thee ! I never saw thee before. Lady. Well, I'll not be long after you; sure I

Lady, Then it is in vain to expect redress from shall get some of my own family to know me; thee, thou wicked contriver of all my misery. they can't be all in this wicked plot. · [Exit. Nell. How am I amazed! Can that be i,

there in my clothes, that have made all this dis SCENE III.SIR John's.

turbance? And yet I ain here, to my thinking,

in these fine clothes. How can this be? I am so SIR John and company enter. confounded and attrighted, that I begin to wish

I was with Zekel Jobson again.

Lady. To whom shall I apply myself, or wheSir John. Was eder man possessed of

ther can I fly? Heaven ! What do I see ! Is not So sweet, so kind a wife!

that I, yonder, in my gown and petticoat I wore

me so.

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