And all new-married copples make short suppers.
What ere thou art, I have no spare time to feare thee;
My horrors are so strong and great already,

That thou seem'st nothing: Up and laze not:
Hadst thou my busynes, thou couldst nere sit soe;
"Twould firck thee into ayre a thousand mile,
Beyond thy oynetments: I would, I were read
So much in thy black powre, as mine owne griefes!
I'me in great need of help: wil't give me any?

Hec. Thy boldnes takes me bravely: we are all sworne To sweatt for such a spirit: See; I regard thee,

I rise, and bid thee welcome. What's thy wish now?
Seb. Oh my heart swells with't. I must take breath first.
Hec. Is't to confound some enemie on the seas?

It may be don to night. Stadlin's within;
She raises all your sodaine ruinous stormes
That shipwrack barks, and teares up growing oakes,
Flyes over houses, and takes Anno Domini

Out of a rich man's chimney (a sweet place for't)

He would be hang'd ere he would set his owne yeares there, They must be chamber'd in a five-pound picture,

A greene silk curtaine dawne before the eies on't, (His rotten diseasd yeares)! Or dost thou envy The fat prosperitie of any neighbour?

I'll call forth hoppo, and her incantation

Can straight destroy the yong of all his cattell:

Blast vine-yards, orchards, meadowes; or in one night Transport his doong, hay, corne, by reekes, whole stacks,

Into thine own ground.

Seb. This would come most richely now

To many a cuntry grazier: But my envy

Lies not so lowe as cattell, corne, or vines:

"Twill trouble your best powres to give me ease.

Hec. Is yt to starve up generation?

To strike a barrennes in man or woman?

Seb. Hah!

Hec. Hah! did you feele me there? I knew your griefe. Seb Can there be such things don?

Hec. Are theis the skins

Of serpents? theis of snakes?

Seb. I see they are.

Hec. So sure into what house theis are convay'd
Knitt with theis charmes, and retentive knotts,
Neither the man begetts, nor woman breeds;
No, nor performes the least desire of wedlock,
Being then a mutuall dutie: I could give thee
Chiroconita, Adincantida,

Archimadon, Marmaritin, Calicia,

Which I could sort to villanous barren ends,

But this leades the same way: More I could instance

As the same needles thrust into their pillowes
That soawes and socks up dead men in their sheets:
A privy grizzel of a man that hangs

After sun-sett: Good, excellent: yet all's there (Sir).
Seb. You could not doe a man that speciall kindnes
To part them utterly, now? Could you do that?

Hec. No: time must do't: we cannot disioyne wedlock:
'Tis of heaven's fastning: well may we raise jarrs,
Jealouzies, striffes, and hart-burning disagreements,
Like a thick skurff ore life, as did our master
Upon that patient miracle: but the work itself
Our powre cannot dis-joynt.

Seb. I depart happy.

In what I have then, being constrain❜d to this:

And graunt you (greater powres) that dispose men,

That I may never need this hag agen.

Hec. I know he loves me not, nor there's no hope on't;

'Tis for the love of mischief I doe this,

And that we are sworne to the first oath we take.

Fire. Oh mother, mother.

Hec. What's the newes with thee now?

[Exit.

Fire. There's the bravest yong gentleman within, and the fineliest drunck: I thought he would have falne into the vessel: he stumbled at a pipkin of childes greaze; reelde against Stadlin, overthrew her, and in the tumbling cast, struck up old Puckles heels with her clothes over her eares.

Hec. Hoy-day!

Fire. I was fayne to throw the cat upon her, to save her honestie; and all litle enough: I cryde out still, I pray be coverd. See where he comes now (Mother).

Enter ALMACHILDES.

Alm. Call you theis witches?

They be tumblers me-thinckes, very flat tumblers.
Hec. 'Tis Almachildes: fresh blood stirs in me-

The man that I have lusted to enjoy:

I have had him thrice in Incubus already.

Al. Is your name gooddy Hag?

Hec. 'Tis any thing.

Call me the horridst and unhallowed things

That life and nature tremble at; for thee

I'll be the same. Thou com'st for a love-charme now?
Al. Why thou'rt a witch, I thinck.

Hec. Thou shalt have choice of twentie, wett, or drie:
Al Nav let's have drie ones.

Hec. Yf thou wilt use't by way of cup and potion,
I'll give thee a Remora shall be-witch her straight.
Al A Remora? what's that?

Hec. A litle suck-stone,

Some call it a stalamprey, a small fish.

Al. And must 'be butter'd?

Hec. The bones of a greene frog too : wondrous pretious, The flesh consum'd by pize-mires.

Al. Pize-mires! give me a chamber-pot.

Fire. You shall see him goe nigh to be so unmannerly, hee'll make water before my mother anon.

Al. And now you talke of frogs, I have somewhat here:

I come not emptie pocketted from a bancket.

(I learn'd that of my haberdashers wife.)

Looke, goody witch, there's a toad in marchpane for you.
Hec. Oh sir, y'have fitted me.

Al. And here's a spawne or two

Of the same paddock-brood too, for your son.

Fire. I thanck your worship, sir: how comes your handker

cher so sweetely thus beray'd? sure tis wet sucket, sir.

Al. 'Tis nothing but the sirrup the toad spit,

Take all I pree-thee.

Hec. This was kindly don, sir,

And you shall sup with me to-night for this.

Al. How? sup with thee? dost thinck I'll eate fryde ratts,

And pickled spiders?

Hec. No: I can command, Sir,

The best meat i'th' whole province for my frends,

And reverently servd in too.

Al. How ?

Hec. In good fashion.

Al. Let me but see that, and I'll sup with you.

She conjures; and enter a Catt (playing on a fidle) and Spiritts (with meate).

The Catt and Fidle's an excellent ordinarie :

You had a devili once in a fox-skin.

Hec. Oh, I have him still: come walke with me, Sir. [Exit. Fire. How apt and ready is a drunckard now to reele to the devill! Well I'll even in, and see how he eates, and I'll be hang'd if I be not the fatter of the twaine with laughing at him. [Exit.

ACT III. SCENE III.

Enter HECCAT, WITCHES, & FIRE-STONE.

Hec. The moone's a gallant; see how brisk she rides.
Stad. Heer's a rich evening, Heccat.

Hec. 1, is't not wenches,

To take a journey of five thousand mile?

Hop. Ours will be more to-night.

Hec. Oh, 'twill be pretious: heard you the owle yet?
Stad. Breifely in the copps,

As we came through now.

Hec. 'Tis high time for us then.

Stad. There was a bat hoong at my lips three times

As we came through the woods, and drank her fill.

Old Puckle saw her.

Hec. You are fortunate still:

The very schreich-owle lights upon your shoulder,
And wooes you, like a pidgeon. Are you furnish'd?
Have you your oyntments?

Stad. All.

Hec. Prepare to flight then:

I'll over-take you swiftly.
Stad. Hye thee Heccat:
We shal be up betimes.

Hec. I'll reach you quickly.

Fire. They are all going a birding to-night. They talk of fowles i'th'aire, that fly by day: I am sure they'll be a company of fowle slutts there to night. Yf we have not mortallitie affer'd, I'll be hang'd, for they are able to putryfie, to infect a whole region. She spies me now.

Hec. What Fire-Stone, our sweet son?

Fire. A little sweeter than some of you; or a doonghill were too good for me.

Hec. How much hast here?

Fire. Nineteene, and all brave plump ones; besides six lizards, and three serpentine eggs.

Hec. Deere and sweet boy: what herbes hast thou?

Fire. I have some Mar-martin, and Man-dragon.

Hec. Marmaritin, and Mandragora, thou wouldst say.

Fire. Heer's Pannax too: I thanck thee, my pan akes I am sure with kneeling downe to cut 'em.

Hec. And Selago,

Hedge hisop too: how neere he goes my cuttings?

Were they all cropt by moone-light?

Fire. Every blade of 'm, or I am a moone-calf (Mother).
Hec. Hye thee home with 'em.

Looke well to the house to night: I am for aloft.

Fire. Aloft (quoth you?) I would you would breake your neck once, that I might have all quickly. Hark, hark, mother; they are above the steeple alredy, flying over your head with a noyse of musitians.

Hec. They are they indeed. Help me, help me; I'm too late els. SONG. Come away, come away;

Heccat, Heccat, come away.} in the aire.

Hec. I come, I come, I come, I come,

With all the speed I may,

With all the speed I may.

Wher's Stadlin?

And Hoppo too, and Hellwaine too: in the aire.

We lack but you; we lack but you;

Come away, make up the count.

Hec. I will but noynt, and then I mount.

A spirit like a Cat descends. above.

Ther's one comes downe to fetch his dues;
A kisse, a coll, a sip of blood:
And why thou staist so long

Since the air's so sweet and good.
Hec. Oh, art thou come,

All

I muse, I muse,

What newes, what newes? goes still to our delight, Either come, or els

Refuse, refuse.

Hec. Now I am furnish'd for the flight.

Fire. Hark, hark, the Catt sings a brave treble in her owne

language.

Hec. going up.] Now I goe, now I flie,

Malkin my sweete spirit and I.

Oh what a daintie pleasure tis
To ride in the aire

When the moone shines faire,

And sing and daunce, and toy and kiss:
Over woods, high rocks, and mountaines,
Over seas, our mistris fountaines,
Over steepe towres and turretts

We fly by night, 'mongst troopes of spiritts.
No ring of bells to our eares sounds,

No howles of wolves, no yelpes of hounds;
No, not the noyse of water's-breache,
Or cannon's throat, our height can reache.

No Ring of bells, &c. above.

}

Fire. Well mother, I thanck your kindnes: You must be gambolling i'th'aire, and leave me to walk here like a foole and a mortall.

ACT V. SCENE II.

Enter DUCHESSE, HECCAT, FIRESTONE.

Hec. What death is't you desire for Almachildes?
Dutch. A sodaine and a subtle.

Hec. Then I have fitted you.

Here lye the guifts of both; sodaine and subtle:
His picture made in wax, and gently molten
By a blew fire, kindled with dead mens' eyes,
Will waste him by degrees.

Duch. In what time, pree-thee?

Hec. Perhaps in a moone's progresse.
Duch. What? a moneth?

Out upon pictures! if they be so tedious,
Give me things with some life.

Hec. Then seeke no farther.

[Exit.