THE LATE LANCASHIRE
WITCHES

Dramatis Personæ

Master ARTHUR*n702 This character's name echoes that of the high-minded ancient legendary king of Britain, and predicts the character’s final status as the heir to Generous’s estate.	gentleman, nephew of Seely
Master SHAKESTONE*n703 This name combines the violent worrying of a predator assaulting its prey (OED shake 8c), and stone or testicle, denoting masculinity (OED 11a). Together the two parts of the name suggest a threateningly ‘macho’ display.	friend of Master Arthur
Master BANTAM*n704 Possibly this name is designed to sound like Bentham. In Q, the name is sometimes spelled Bantham. See collation notes. Other possible modern names for this spelling are Bantin or Banton. †gg610 Small colourful and aggressive breed of rooster, used in cock-fighting.	friend of Master Arthur
Master GENEROUS†gg608 ‘noble, of good race, excellent, of a gentleman-like disposition’ (Florio); also virtuous, liberal, and stout-hearted *n699 For Generous's virtues, see [LW 1.1.speech16] for a fuller description.	a wealthy land-owner
MISTRESS GENEROUS*n713 Mistress Generous is a gentlewoman of good birth, perhaps an unlikely choice for a witch, but Alice Nutter, found guilty in the 1612 Pendle Forest case, was also a gentlewoman of good family and perhaps provided a very loose model for this play.	Generous’s wife, a witch
WHETSTONE†gg609 grindstone, stone, dull-edged itself, against which knives and other tools may be sharpened. n700 The name of the character suggests his use as a base upon which the wit of others may be tested and judged. Florio indicates that ‘touchstone’ is a synonym for ‘whetstone’, and thus explains further this character’s use in the play as demonstrating the degree or worth of the other gentlemen who rub up against him. Cf OED citation for 1606, Dekker, Newes from Hell* (Grosart) II. 99: ‘Some pittifull fellowes (that haue ... wittes colde as Whetstones, and more blunt)’.	nephew to Mistress Generous
ROBERT*n701 common nickname for Robert. The name is also associated with the puck or mischievous sprite, Robin Goodfellow. [ROBIN]	Generous’s groom, and Mall’s lover
SEELY*n705 The name means silly gull, or ninny; simple fool or clown. But a family named Sellar was registered in the Colne Parish Church in the Pendle Forest, and two witches from Colne (Katherine Hewitt and Alice Grey) were convicted at the Lancaster Assizes in 1612.	a wealthy land-owner
JOAN*n706 generic name for a rustic female; cf Shakespeare, the last line of LLL 3.1:’Some men must loue my lady, and some Joan’ (OED 1), or the final verse of the winter song at the play’s end, ‘While greasy Joan doth keel the pot’.	Seely’s wife
GREGORY*n707 OED cites two possible associative meanings: 1 a gallant; 2 a hangman. The first would suggest the rise in status presumed to benefit a prosperous landowner’s son, as we see in Arthur; and the second suggests the brutal personality inflicted on the young man by witchcraft. The name derives from the Greek word for watchful. However, the Latin form, Gregorius, came to be associated by folk etymology with grex, gregis, ‘flock’, ‘herd’, under the influence of the Christian image of the good shepherd; and associated with Roman Catholicism (several popes were named Gregory).	Seely’s son
WINNY*n708 Usually a nickname for Winifred, the name mimics the whinny of a horse, often associated with sexually active young women, as in the hobbyhorse figure of the morris dance, and in the homophonic joke: whores/horse, similar to the hare/whore joke below in 1.1.	Seely’s daughter
LAWRENCEn709 A name used to denote a personification of indolence; the nickname, Loll, still has that implication of idleness. OED cites from 1600, Breton, Pasquil's Mad-cappe*, 26: ‘Then let a knaue be knowne to be a knaue,..A Lobbe a Lowte, a heavy Loll a Logge’. ‘Lusty Lawrence of Lancashire’ proverbially denoted a man of great virility (see Barber 148b).	Seely’s manservant
PARNELLn710 The English equivalent of the Italian proper name Peronella, according to William Thomas, Principal Rules of the Italian Grammar* (1550) (LEME), but OED gives ‘wanton young woman’ as a first meaning. Florio associates it with ‘pratling parnell’ (LEME), the old name for an herb now called London Pride (Saxifraga umbrosa).	Seely’s maidservant, engaged and later married to Lawrence
DOUGHTY†gg611 intrepid, fearless; hardy, valorous	Seely’s neighbour, godfather to Miller’s Boy
MEG/Peg*n711 Nicknames for Margaret or Marguerite, asociated with the wild daisy or bruisewort. Margaret Johnson was one of the accused witches brought down to London for a re-examination of the evidence. [Margaret Johnson]	witch, with familiar/spirit Mamilion*n715 The name suggests a suckling familiar, mamilla being the Latin word for breast. Witches were supposed to make a pact with the devil in return for some power, provided they agreed to have sex with the devil, or be suckled at a nipple or nipple-like protuberance on their bodies (a pimple, a wart, a tag of loose skin, particularly if located in the nether regions).
GOODY [Frances] DICKIESON*n712 Q's spelling 'Dickison' might have been a rendering of the mildly divergent sounds of Dicconson, Dickinson, Dickenson, or Dickieson, of which only the last alternative seems to reflect the playwrights' choice. Goody was a polite mode of address to older women of the lower class, short for 'goodwife' (OED 2). Frances Dickieson was also one of the witches found guilty in Lancaster before being brought down to London for re-examination.	witch
MAUD*n714 Maud was a nickname for Magdalen, or Maudlin, associated by 1600 with drinking, cursing, or blaspheming, and thus with any ill-mannered woman. The name also has associations with the wild herbs maudlin, sweet yarrow, or balsam. The herbal associations with many of the play's women, especially witches, suggests their association with cunningwomen or wisewomen (so-called white witches), as well as wildness and unruliness.	witch, with familiar/spirit Puckling*n716 This familiar is a little version of the Puck, Pook, or Pug, a mischievous sprite or hobgoblin, considered demonic before the 16th century. Like Mamilion, this familiar is child-like, and helps to explain the witches' interest in boys.
MALL*n718 also Moll or Molly, common nickname for Mary, but often the generic name for a prostitute, or a female criminal; eg. Moll Frith, known as Moll Cutpurse, the Roaring Girl (see Middleton’s play). [Mary] Spencer	young witch
GILL/Gilliann717 This name offers a familiar or dismissive term applied to a countrywoman; eg, Ben Jonson,’s masque, Gipsies Metamorphos’d, performed 1621: ‘I can ... / Give you all your fill, / Each Jack with his Jill’ (H&S 7.607, ll. 1257-60). OED lists various meanings for a mare (if the nickname does refer to Jennet Hargreaves, a ‘jennet’ was a small Spanish horse), a flirt (gillian-flirt, or gill-flirt, a wench), a will-o’-the-wisp (or gillian-a-burnt-tail), and wild plants, gilliflowers, and especially ground ivy, called Gill-creepe-by-ground or Gill-go-by-ground (see also Gerrard’s Herbal*). Many of these local names also have sexual implications. [Jennet Hargraves]	another witch
Witches (3)
Invisible spirit*n3439 According to the original stage directions, this role was played by J. Adson, one of the musicians working for the King's Men. See 2.4 and [NOTE n1284]. with two greyhounds
SOLDIER
MILLER Gretty*n1775 Full of stones, gravelly; hence treacherous or deceiful (Florio 1611, in LEME). The name refers to the practice of millers who weighed the ground grain with gravel to increase the price, or to hoard the extra grain. This scene is the only occasion a name is given to the miller, and the name itself may simply be an insult from Doughty, but it explains the hostility directed toward millers, both here and in the references to the mill haunted by witches and wildcats.	father of Doughty’s godson
BOY	Gretty’s son
BOY 2	bewitched by Goody Dickieson
Spirits (4)	Mamilion, Meg’s familiar
Puckling, Maud’s familiar
Suckling, another familiar
Mawsy, another familiar
Musicians:	Fiddlers (2)
Piper
Drummer
PEDANT
TAILOR
GALLANT
Country lasses (2)
Wedding guests
CONSTABLE
Officers (3)
Rabble

THE PROLOGUE.*n1344 The speaker of the prologue is usually an actor who is not needed in the first scene. In any case, he wears a black cloak to cover his costume and announce his function as prologue.

This prologue announces some simple 'facts' about the play: that it is based on the case of the Lancashire witches who, after being found guilty on extra-legal evidence, were brought down to London for a hearing. The London attitude, expressed here, is amusement. Only northerners would believe there were such things as witches who could transform themselves as described in the evidence; it's a 'thin' argument, and the play will demonstrate the comedy of such fantastic belief. The problematic issue for modern audiences is that the play was performed while courts were in session, and no decision had yet been made on the Lancashire case. Subsequently the witches were declared not guilty, the boy, Edmund Robinson, was discovered to be a liar (both he and his father perjured themselves in their testimony), and the women were returned to Lancaster. Did the play help secure their release or interfere in the course of justice? An open question.

1PrologueCorantoes† failing†, and no footpost† late†

Possessing us with news of foreign state*,

No accidents abroad worthy relation*

Arriving here, we are forced from† our own nation

To ground† the scene* that’s now in agitation*,

The project† unto many here well known:

Those witches* the fat† jailor* brought to town.

An argument† so thin†*, persons so low†,

Can neither yield much matter†, nor great show.

Expect no more than can from such be raised†;

So may the scene pass pardoned* though not praised.[The Prologue exits.]

ACT 1*

1.1

MASTER ARTHUR, MASTER SHAKESTONE, [and] MASTER BANTAM enter as from hunting.

2Arthur.Was ever sport of expectation†*

Thus crossed† in th’ height†!

3Shakestone.Tush, these are accidents

All game is subject to.*

4Arthur.So you may call them* —

Chances†, or crosses, or what else you please —

But for my part I’ll hold them prodigies†,

As things transcending nature.

5Bantam.Oh, you speak this*

Because a hare hath crossed* you.*

6Arthur.A hare? A witch, or rather a devil, I think.

For tell me, gentlemen, was’t possible

In such a fair course† and no covert† near,

We in pursuit, and she in constant view,

Our eyes not wandering but all bent that way,

The dogs in chase, she ready to be ceased†,

And at the instant, when I durst have laid†

My life to gage† my dog had pinched† her, then

To vanish into nothing!

7Shakestone.Somewhat strange*,

But not as you enforce† it.

8Arthur.Make it plain*

That I am in an error! Sure I am

That I about me have no borrowed eyes*.

They are mine own and matches†.

9Bantam.She might find*

Some meuse† as then not visible to us,

And escape that way.

10Shakestone.Perhaps some fox had earthed† there,*

And though it be not common, for I seldom

Have known or heard the like, there squat herself

And so her ’scape appear but natural*,

Which you proclaim a wonder†.

11Arthur.Well, well, gentlemen,*

Be you of your own faith, but what I see

And is to me apparent†, being in sense†,

My wits about me, no way tossed† nor troubled,

To that will I give credit*.

12Bantam.Come, come, all men*

Were never of one mind*, nor I of yours.

13Shakestone.To leave this argument, are you resolved

Where we should dine today?

14Arthur.Yes, where we purposed†.*

15Bantam.That was with Master Generous.

16Arthur.True, the same.*

And where a loving welcome is presumed,

Whose liberal table’s never unprepared,

Nor he of guests unfurnished†*; of his means

There’s none can bear it* with a braver† port†

And keep his state †unshaken†; one who sells not*

Nor covets he to purchase; holds his own

Without oppressing others; always pressed†*

To endear to him any known gentleman

In whom he finds good parts†.

17Bantam.-- A character not common

In this age!--*

18Arthur.I cannot wind him up†*

Unto the least part of his noble worth.

’Tis far above my strength.

WHETSTONE enters.

19Shakestone.See who comes yonder,*

A fourth to make us a full mess† of guests

At Master Generous’ table.

20Arthur.Tush, let him pass.*

He’s not worth our luring†, a mere coxcomb†!

It is a way to call our wits in question*,

To have him seen amongst us.

21Bantam.He hath spied us.*

There is no way to evade him.

22Arthur.That’s my grief†*.

A most notorious liar -- out upon him!†

23Shakestone.Let’s set the best face on’t.*

24Whetstone.What, gentlemen? All mine old acquaintance!

A whole triplicity of friends together! Nay then

’Tis three to one we shall not soon part company.*

25Shakestone. [Bowing] Sweet Master Whetstone.

26Bantam. [Bowing] Dainty†* Master Whetstone.

27Arthur. [Bowing] Delicate† Master Whetstone.

28Whetstone.You say right. Master Whetstone I have been, Master Whetstone I am, and Master Whetstone I shall be, and those that know me, know withal that I have not my name for nothing. I am he whom all the brave blades† of the country use to whet their wits upon. [Bowing to each] Sweet Master Shakestone, dainty Master Bantam, and dainty Master Arthur. And how, and how, what all lustick†, all froligozone†? I know you are going to my uncle’s to dinner, and so am I too.

What, shall we all make one rendezvous †there?

You need not doubt of your welcome.*

29Shakestone.No doubt at all, kind Master Whetstone. But we have not seen you of late: you are grown a great stranger amongst us. I desire sometimes to give you a visit. I pray, where do you lie?†

30Whetstone.Where do I lie? Why, sometimes in one place, and then again in another. I love to shift† lodgings, but most constantly, wheresoe’er I dine or sup, there do I lie!

31Arthur. [Aside] I never heard that word proceed from him*

I durst call truth till now.

32Whetstone.But wheresoever I lie, ’tis no matter for that.

I pray you say, and say truth, are not you three now

Going to dinner to my uncle’s?*

33Bantam.I think you are a witch*, Master Whetstone.

34Whetstone.How! A witch, gentlemen? I hope you do not mean to abuse† me, though at this time (if report be true) there are too many of them here in our country, but I am sure I look like no such ugly creature.

35Shakestone.It seems then you are of opinion that there are witches. For mine own part, I can hardly be induced to think there is any such kind of people.

36Whetstone.No such kind of people! I pray you tell me, gentlemen, did never any one of you know my mother?

37Arthur.Why, was your mother a witch?

38Whetstone.I do not say as witches go nowadays, for they for the most part are ugly old beldams†, but she was a lusty† young lass and, by her own report, by her beauty and fair looks bewitched my father.

39Bantam.It seems then your mother was rather a young wanton wench, than an old withered witch.

40Whetstone.You say right, and know withal I come of two ancient families, for as I am a Whetstone by the mother-side†, so I am a By-blow† by the father’s.

41Arthur.It appears then by your discourse that you came in at the window*.

42Whetstone.I would have you think I scorn like my grannam’s† cat to leap over the hatch†*.

43Shakestone. [To ARTHUR and BANTAM]* He hath confessed himself to be a bastard.*

44Arthur. [To SHAKESTONE and BANTAM] And I believe ’t as a notorious truth.

45Whetstone.Howsoever I was begot, here you see I am,

And if my parents went to it without fear or wit,

What can I help it?*

46Arthur. [To SHAKESTONE and BANTAM] Very probable, for as he was got without fear, so it is apparent he was born without wit.*

47Whetstone.Gentlemen, it seems you have some private business* amongst yourselves, which I am not willing to interrupt. I know not how the day goes with you, but for mine own part, my stomach is now much upon twelve*. You know what hour my uncle keeps, and I love ever to be set† before the first grace. I am going before. Speak, shall I acquaint him with your coming after?

48Shakestone.We mean this day to see what fare† he keeps.

49Whetstone.And you know it is his custom to fare† well,

And in that respect I think I may be his kinsman.

And so farewell, gentlemen. I’ll be your forerunner†

To give him notice of your visit.*

50Bantam. [Bowing] And so entire†† us to you.

51Shakestone. [Bowing] Sweet Master Whetstone.

52Arthur. [Bowing] Kind Master By-blow.

53Whetstone.I see you are perfect† both in my name and surname. I have been ever bound unto you, for which I will at this time be your noverint†, and give him notice that you universi†will be with him per praesentes†, and that I take to be presently.He exits.

54Arthur.Farewell, As in praesenti††.*

55Shakestone.It seems he’s piece of a scholar.

56Arthur.What, because he hath read a little scrivener’s Latin†? He never proceeded farther in his accidence† than to mentiri non est meum;†and that was such a hard lesson to learn that he stuck at mentiri and could never reach to non est meum: since, a mere ignaro† and not worth acknowledgement.

57Bantam.Are these then the best parts† he can boast of?

58Arthur.As you see him now, so shall you find him ever: all in one strain†. There is one only thing which I wonder he left out.

59Shakestone.And what might that be?

60Arthur.Of the same affinity with the rest.*

At every second word, he is* commonly boasting

Either of his aunt or his uncle.**

MASTER GENEROUS enters.

61Bantam. You name him in good time. See where he comes.

62Generous.Gentlemen, welcome. ’Tis a word I use,

From me expect no further compliment†.

Nor do I name† it often at one meeting.

Once spoke (to those that understand me best

And know I always purpose as I speak*)

Hath ever yet sufficed. So let it you.

Nor do I love that common phrase of guests,

As ‘We make bold’, or ‘We are troublesome’,

‘We take you unprovided’, and the like.

I know you understanding gentlemen

And, knowing me, cannot persuade yourselves

With me you shall be troublesome or bold,

But still provided for my worthy friends,

Amongst whom you are listed.*

63Arthur.Noble sir,*

You generously instruct us, and to express

We can be your apt scholars: in a word,

We come to dine with you.

64Generous.And, gentlemen,*

Such plainness doth best please me. I had notice

Of so much by my kinsman*, and to show

How lovingly I took it, instantly

Rose from my chair to meet you at the gate

And be myself your usher*; nor shall you find,

Being set to meat, that I’ll excuse your fare*,

Or say I am sorry it falls out so poor*,

And had I known your coming we’d have had

Such things and such, nor blame my cook, to say

This dish or that hath not been sauced with care --

Words fitting best a common hostess’† mouth,

When there’s perhaps some just cause of dislike,

But not the table of a gentleman.

Nor is it my wife’s custom. In a word,

Take what you find, and so*.*

65Arthur.Sir without flattery*

You may be called the sole surviving son

Of long since banished hospitality*.

66Generous.In that you please me not.* -- But, gentlemen,

I hope to be beholden† unto you all,

Which if I prove†, I’ll be a grateful debtor.

67Bantam.Wherein, good sir?*

68Generous.I ever studied plainness and truth withal.

69Shakestone.I pray, express yourself.

70Generous.In few† I shall.*

I know this youth to whom my wife is aunt

Is (as you needs must find him) weak and shallow:

Dull as his name, and what for kindred sake†

We note not, or at least, are loath to see,

Is unto such well-knowing gentlemen

Most grossly visible. If for my sake

You will but seem to wink at† these his wants*,

At least at table before us, his friends†,

I shall receive it as a courtesy

Not soon to be forgot.

71Arthur. Presume it, sir.*

72Generous.Now when you please, pray enter, gentlemen.

73Arthur.Would these my friends† prepare the way before,

To be resolved of one thing before dinner

Would something add unto mine appetite.

[To BANTAM and SHAKESTONE] Shall I entreat you so much?

74Bantam.O sir, you may command us.

75Generous.I’th’ mean time

Prepare your stomachs with a bowl of sack†.

My cellar can afford† it.BANTAM and SHAKESTONE exit.

Now, Master Arthur,

Pray freely speak your thoughts.

76Arthur.I come not, sir,

To press† a promise from you, take’t not so;

Rather to prompt your memory in a motion†

Made to you not long since.

77Generous.Was’t not about

A manor†, the best part of your estate,

Mortgaged to one slips no advantages*

Which you would have redeemed?

78Arthur.True, sir, the same.

79Generous.And, as I think, I promised at that time

To become bound† with you, or if the usurer†*

(A base, yet the best title I can give him)

Perhaps should question that security,

To have the money ready. Was’t not so?

80Arthur.It was to that purpose we discoursed.

81Generous.Provided, to have the writings in my custody*.

Else how should I secure mine own estate?

82Arthur.To deny that, I should appear to th’ world

Stupid and of no brain.

83Generous.Your money’s ready.

84Arthur.And I remain a man obliged to you

Beyond all utterance.

85Generous.Make then your word good

By speaking it no further; only this:

It seems your uncle you trusted in so far

Hath failed your expectation.

86Arthur. Sir, he hath — *

Not that he is unwilling or unable,

But at this time unfit to be solicited;

For to the country’s wonder and my sorrow,

He is much to be pitied.

87Generous.Why, I entreat you?

88Arthur.Because he’s late become the sole discourse†

Of all the country; for of a man respected

For his discretion and known gravity,

As master of a governed family†,

The house (as if the ridge† were fixed below,

And groundsels† lifted up to make the roof)

All now turned topsy-turvy.

89Generous.Strange! But how?

90Arthur.In such a retrograde† and preposterous† way

As seldom hath been heard of -- I think never.

91Generous.Can you discourse the manner?*

92Arthur. The good man*

In all obedience kneels unto his son;

He with an austere brow commands his father.

The wife presumes† not in the daughter’s sight

Without a prepared courtesy*. The girl, she

Expects it as a duty; chides her mother,

Who quakes and trembles at each word she speaks,

And what’s as strange, the maid, she domineers

O’er her young mistress, who is awed by her.

The son, to whom the father creeps and bends,

Stands in as much fear of the groom†, his man†.

All in such rare† disorder that in some

As it breeds pity, and in others wonder†,

So in the most part laughter.

93Generous.How think you might this come?

94Arthur.’Tis thought by witchcraft.

95Generous.They that think so dream,

For my belief is no such thing can be:

A madness, you may call it. Dinner stays.

That done, the best part of the afternoon

We’ll spend about your business.They exit.

1.2*

Old SEELY and DOUGHTY enter.

96Seely.Nay, but understand me, neighbour Doughty.

97Doughty.Good Master Seely, I do understand you, and over and over understand you so much that I could e’en blush at your fondness†; and had I a son to serve† me so, I would conjure a devil out of him*.

98Seely.Alas, he is my child.

99Doughty.No, you are his child to live in fear of him; indeed they say old men become children again, but before I would become my child’s child, and make my foot my head*, I would stand upon my head and kick my heels at the skies.

GREGORY enters.

100Seely.You do not know what an only son is. Oh, see, he comes. Now if you can appease his anger toward me, you shall do an act of timely charity.

101Doughty.It is an office that I am but weakly versd in, to plead to a son in the father’s behalf. [Aside] Bless me, what looks the devilish* young rascal frights the poor man withal!*

102Gregory. [To SEELY] I wonder at your confidence, and how you dare appear before me.

103Doughty. [Aside] A brave beginning.

104Seely.O son, be patient.

105Gregory.It is right reverend counsel; I thank you for it. I shall study patience, shall I, while you practise ways to beggar me, shall I?

106Doughty. [Aside] Very handsome.*

107Seely.If ever I transgress in the like again —

108Gregory.I have taken your word too often, sir, and neither can nor will forbear you longer.

109Doughty.What, not your father, Master Gregory?

110Gregory.What’s that to you, sir?

111Doughty.Pray tell me then, sir, how many years has he to serve† you?

112Gregory. [To SEELY] What, do you bring your spokesman now, your advocate†? What fee goes out of my estate now for his oratory†?

113Doughty.Come, I must tell you, you forget yourself,

And in this foul unnatural strife wherein

You trample on your father, you are fallen

Below humanity. Y’are so beneath

The title of a son, you cannot claim

To be a man, and let me tell you, were you mine,

Thou shouldst not eat but on thy knees before me.

114Seely.Oh, this is not the way!

This is to raise impatience into fury.

I do not seek his quiet for my ease.

I can bear all his chidings and his threats,

And take them well, very exceeding well,

And find they do me good, on my own part.

Indeed they do reclaim me from those errors

That might impeach† his fortunes, but I fear

Th’unquiet strife within him hurts himself,

And wastes or weakens nature by the breach

Of moderate sleep and diet; and I can

No less than grieve to find my weaknesses

To be the cause of his affliction,

And see the danger of his health and being.

115Doughty.Alas, poor man! Can you stand open-eyed,

Or dry-eyed either, at this now in a father?

116Gregory.Why, if it grieve you, you may look off on’t*.

I have seen more than this twice twenty times,

And have as often been deceived by his

Dissimulations†*. I can see nothing mended†.

117Doughty. [Aside] He is a happy sire that has brought up

His son to this.*

118Seely. All shall be mended, son!*

Content yourself! But this time forget *

But this last fault!*

119Gregory. Yes, for a new one tomorrow!*

120Doughty.Pray, Master Gregory, forget it! You see how

Submissive your poor penitent is. Forget it,

Forget it! Put it out o’ your head; knock it

Out of your brains! I protest, if my father,

Nay, if my father’s dog*, should have said

As much to me, I should have embraced him.

What was the trespass? It could not be so heinous†.

121Gregory.Well, sir, you now shall be a judge for all your jeering†. Was it a fatherly part, think you, having a son, to offer to enter in bonds for his nephew, so to endanger my estate to redeem his mortgage?*

122Seely.But I did it not, son!

123Gregory.I know it very well, but your dotage† had done it, if my care had not prevented it.

124Doughty.Is that the business? Why, if he had done it, had he not been sufficiently secured in having the mortgage made over to himself?

125Gregory.He does nothing but practise ways to undo himself and me: a very spendthrift, a prodigal sire

! He was at the ale† but tother day, and spent a four-penny club†.

126Seely.’Tis gone and past, son.

127Gregory.Can you hold your peace, sir? — [To DOUGHTY] And not long ago at the wine† he spent his tester†, and twopence to the piper†. That was brave, was it not?

128Seely.Truly we were civilly† merry. But I have left it*.

129Gregory.Your civility, have you not? -- [To DOUGHTY] For no longer ago than last holiday evening he gamed away eight double-ringed tokens* on a rubbers at bowls† with the curate* and some of his idle companions.

130Doughty.Fie, Master Gregory Seely, is this seemly in a son?

You’ll have a rod for the child

your father shortly, I fear.

Alas, did he make it cry?* Give me a stroke† and I’ll beat him.

Bless me, they make me almost as mad as themselves!

131Gregory. [To DOUGHTY] ’Twere good you would meddle with your own matters†, sir.

132Seely.Son, son!

133Gregory.Sir, sir, as I am not beholden to you for house or land, for it has stood* in the name of my ancestry, the Seelys, above two hundred years, so will I look† you leave all as you found it.

LAWRENCE enters.

134Lawrence.What is the matter, con yeow tell?*

135Gregory.O Lawrence, welcome! Thou wilt make all well, I am sure.

136Lawrence. [To GREGORY] Yie, whick way, con yeow tell? — [To GREGORY and old SEELY] But what the foul evil doon ye? Here’s sick an a din!*

137Doughty.Art thou his man, fellow† ha? That talkest thus to him?

138Lawrence.Yie, sir, and what ma’ yoew o’that? He maintains† me to rule him, and I’ll deu’t, or ma’ the heart weary o’the weamb on him.*

139Doughty. [Aside] This is quite upside-down: the son controls the father, and the man overcrows his master’s coxcomb†*. Sure they are all bewitched!

140Gregory.’Twas but so, truly, Lawrence. The peevish old man vexed me, for which I did my duty in telling him his own*, and Master Doughty here maintains† him against me.

141Lawrence.I forbodden yeow to meddle with the old carl and let me alone with him; yet yeow still be at him. He served yeow but weel to baste ye for’t, ant he were stronk enough, but an I saw foul with ye, an I swaddle ye not savourly, may my girts brast.*

142Seely.Prithee, good Lawrence, be gentle and do not fright thy master so.

143Lawrence.Yie, at your command, anon†.*

144Doughty.Enough, good Lawrencee, you have said enough.

145Lawrence.How trow yeou that? A fine world when a man cannot be whyet at heame for busy-brain’d neighpours!*

146Doughty. [Aside] I know not what to say to anything here. This cannot be but witchcraft.

JOAN and WINNY enter.

147Winny.I cannot endure it, nor I will not endure it.

148Doughy. [Aside] Heyday†! The daughter upon the mother too!

149Winny.One of us two, choose you which, must leave the house. We are not to live together. I see that, but I will know if there be law in Lancashire* for’t, which is fit first to depart the house or the world*, the mother or the daughter.

150JoanDaughter, I say.

151Winny.Do you say the daughter, for that word I say the mother*, unless you can prove me the eldest, as my discretion† almost warrant it. I say the mother shall out of the house or take such courses† in it as shall sort† with such a house and such a daughter.

152Joan.Daughter, I say I will take any course so thou wilt leave thy passion; indeed it hurts thee, child. I’ll sing and be merry, wear as fine clothes and as delicate dressings† as thou wilt have me, so thou wilt pacify thyself, and be at peace with me.

153Winny.Oh, will you so? In so doing I may chance to look upon you. Is this a fit habit† for a handsome young gentlewoman’s mother? As I hope to be a lady, you look like one o’ the Scottish weyward sisters*! Oh, my heart has got the hickup, and all looks green* about me. A merry song now, mother, and thou shalt be my white girl†.

154Joan.Ha, ha, ha! She’s overcome with joy at my conversion*.

155Doughty. [Aside] She is most evidently bewitched.

Song.

156Joan.There was a deft† lad and a lass fell in love,

with a fa la la, fa la la, langtidown dilly*;

With kissing and toying† this maiden did prove,

with a fa la la, fa la la, langtidown dilly;

So wide i’ th’ waist and her belly so high*,

That unto her mother the maiden did cry,

O langtidown dilly, O langtidown dilly,

fa la la langtidown, langtidown dilly.

PARNELL enters.

157Parnell.Thus wodden yeou doone and I were dead, but while I live yoeu fadge not on it. Is this aw the warke yeou con fine?*

158Doughty. [Aside] Now comes the maid to set her mistresses to work.

159Winny.Nay, prithee, sweet Parnell, I was but chiding the old wife† for her unhandsomeness†, and would have been at my work presently†. She tells me now she will wear fine things, and I shall dress her head as I list†.

160Doughty. [Aside] Here’s a house well governed!

161Parnell.Dress† me no dressings, lessen† I dress† yeou beth, and learn a new lesson, with a wanion†, right now! Han I bin a servant here this half dozen o’ years, and con I see yeou idler then myselve!

162Joan, Winny.Nay, prithee, sweet Parnell, content, and hark thee —*

163Doughty. [Aside] I have known this, and till very lately, as well governed a family as the country yields, and now what a nest of several humours* it is grown, and all devilish ones! Sure all the witches in the country have their hands in this home-spun medley; and there be no few* ’tis thought.

164Parnell.Yie, yie, ye shall, ye shall, another time, but not naw, I thonk† yeou. — [To LAWRENCE] * Yeou shall as soon piss and paddle in’t as slap me in the mouth with an awd† petticoat, or a new pair o’ shoin†, to be whyet†. I cannot be whyet, nor I wonnot be whyet, to see sicky† doings, I!

165Lawrence.Hold thy prattle, Parnell*. Aw’ comed about a’ ween ’a’ had it. Wotst thou what, Parnell? Wotst thou what?* O dear, wotst thou what?

166Parnell.What’s the fond wexen waild, trow I?*

167Lawrence.We han bin in love these three years, and ever we had not enough. Now is it comed about that our love shall be at an end for ever, and a day, for we mun wed, may hunny*, we mun wed!

168Parnell.What the deowl ayls the lymmer lown? Bin thy brains broke lowse, trow I?*

169Lawrence.Sick a waddin was there never i’ Loncoshire as ween couple at on Monday newst*.

170Parnell.Awa’, awaw! Sayn yeou this sickerly†, or done you but jaum† me?

171Lawrence.I jaum thee not nor flam† thee not! ’Tis all as true as book†: here’s both our masters have consented and concloyded†, and our mistresses mun yield toyt, to put aw house and lond and aw* they have into our hands.

172Parnell.Awa’, awaw!**

173Lawrence.And we mun marry and be master and dame of aw.

174Parnell.Awa’, awaw!

175Lawrence.And theyn be our sijourners†, because they are weary of the world, to live in frendibleness†, and see what will come on’t.

176Parell.Awa’, awaw, agone†!

177Seely and GregoryNay, ’tis true, Parnell, here’s both our hands on’t*, and give you joy.

178Joan and Winny.And ours too, and ’twill be fine ifackins†.

179Parnell.Whaw, whaw, whaw, whaw!

180Doughty. [Aside] Here’s a mad business towards.

181Seely.I will bespeak† the guests.

182Gregory.And I the meat.

183Joan.I’ll dress the dinner, though I drip my sweat.

184Lawrence.My care shall sumptuous ’parelments† provide.

185Winny.And my best art shall trickly† trim† the bride.

186Parnell.Whaw, whaw, whaw, whaw!

187Gregory. [Aside] I’ll get choice music for the merriment.

188Doughty. [Aside] And I will wait with wonder the event.

189Parnell.Whaw, whaw, whaw, whaw![They all exit.]

Edited by Helen Ostovich