tity of malt in their small beer so long as the house continues in this condition. Lady. At this rate they'll take care to be frightened all the year round, I'll answer for them. But go on. Vel. Item, Two sheep, and a-where is the ox ?-Oh, here I have him-and an ox-Your ho--nour must always have a piece of cold beef in the house, for the entertainment of so many strangers, who come from all parts to hear this drum. Item, Bread, ten peck loaves-They cannot eat beef without bread-Item, Three barrels of table-beer-They must have drink with their meat. Lady. Sure no woman in England has a steward that makes such ingenious comments on his works. [Aside. Vel. Item, To Mr. Tinsel's servants, five bottles of Port wine-It was by your ho-nour's order-Item, Three bottles of Sack for the use of Mrs. Abigail. Lady. I suppose that was by your own order Vel. We have been long friends; we are your ho-nour's ancient servants. Sack is an innocent cordial, and gives her spirit to chide the servants when they are tardy in their business; he, he, he! pardon me for being jocular. Lady. Well, I see you'll come together at last. Vel. Item, A dozen pound of wax-lights for the use of the se vants. Lady. For the use of the servants! What are the rogues afraid of sleeping in the dark! What an unfortunate woman am I! This is such a particular distress, it puts me to my wits end. Vellum, what would you advise me to do? Vel. Madam, your ho-nour has two points to consider, Imprimis, To retrench these extravagant expenses, which so many strangers bring upon you-Secondly, To clear the house of this invisible drummer. Lady. This learned division leaves me just as wise as I was. But how must we bring these two points to bear? Vel. I beseech your ho-nour to give me the hearing. Lady. I do. But pr'ythee take pity on me, and be not tedious. Vel. I will be concise. There is a certain person arrived this morning, an aged man of a venerable aspect, and of a long hoary beard that reacheth down to his girdle. The common people call him a wizard, a white-witch, a conjuror, a cunning-man, a necromancer, a Lady. No matter for his titles. But what of all this? Vel. Give me the hearing, good my lady! He pretends to great skill in the occult sciences, and is come hither upon the rumour of this drum. If one may believe him, he knows the secret of laying ghosts, or of quieting houses that are haunted. Lady. Pho, these are idle stories to amuse the country people; this can do us no good. Vel. It can do us no harm, my lady. Lady. I dare say thou dost not believe there is any thing in it thyself? Vel. I cannot say I do; there is no danger, however, in the experiment. Let him try his skill; if it should succeed, we are rid of the drum; if it should not, we may tell the world that it has, and by that means at least get out of this expensive way of living; so that it must turn to your advantage one way or another. Lady. I think you argue very rightly. But where is the man? I would fain see him! He must be a curiosity. Vel. I have already discoursed him, and he is to be with me, in my office, half an hour hence. He asks nothing for his pains till he has done his work ;- -no cure, no money. Lady. That circumstance, I must confess, would make one believe there is more in his art than one would imagine. Pray, Vellum, go and fetch him hither immediately. Vel. I am gone. He shall be forthcoming forthwith. [Exeunt. Enter BUTLER, COACHMAN, and GARDENER. But. Rare news, my lads, rare news! Gard. What's the matter? hast thou got any more vales for us? But. No, 'tis better than that. Coach. Is there another stranger come to the house? But. Ay, such a stranger as will make all our lives easy. Gard. What! Is he a lord? But. A lord! No, nothing like it-He's a conjuror. Coach. A conjuror! what, is he come a wooing to my lady? But. No, no, you fool, he's come a purpose to lay the spirit. Coach. Ay! marry, that's good news indeed: but where is he? But. He is locked up with the steward in his office; they are laying their heads together very close. I fancy they are casting a figure. Gard. Pr'ythee, John, what sort of a creature is a conjuror? But. Why, he's made much as other men are, if it was not for his long gray beard. Coach. Look ye, Peter, it stands with reason, that a conjuror should have a long gray beard-for, did ye ever know a witch that was not an old woman? Gard. Why, I remember a conjuror once at a fair, that to my thinking was a very smockfaced man, and yet he spewed out fifty yards of green ferret. I fancy, John, if thou'dst get him into the pantry and give him a cup of ale, he'd show us a few tricks. Dost think we could not persuade him to swallow one of thy case-knives for his diversion? He'll certainly bring it up again. But. Peter! thou art such a wiseacre! thou dost not know the difference between a conjuror and a juggler. This man must e a very great master of his trade. His beard is at least half a yard long, he's dressed in a strange dark cloak, as black as a coal: your conjuror always goes in mourning. Gard. Is he a gentleman ? had he a sword by his side? But. No, no, he's too grave a man for that; a conjuror's as grave as a judge--but he had a long white wand in his hand. Coach. You may be sure there's a good deal of virtue in that wand-I fancy 'tis made out of witch elm. Gard. I warrant you, if the ghost appears, he'll whisk you that wand before his eyes, and strike you the drumstick out of his hand. But. No; the wand, look ye, is to make a circle; and if he once gets the ghost in a circle, then he has him-let him get out again if A circle, you must know, is a con he can. juror's trap. But. Why, then he'll overpower him with his learning. Gard. If he can once compass him, and get him in Lob's pound, he'll make nothing of him, but speak a few hard words to him, and perhaps bind him over to his good behaviour for a thousand years. Coach. Ay, ay, he'll send him packing to his grave again, with a flea in his ear, I warrant him. But. No, no, I would advise Madam to spare no cost. If the conjurer be but well paid, he'll take pains upon the ghost, and lay him, look ye, in the Red Sea-and then he's laid for ever. Coach. Ay, marry, that would spoil his drum for him. Gard. Why, John, there must be a power of spirits in that same Red Sea.-I warrant ye they are as plenty as fish. Coach. Well, I wish after all that he may not be too hard for the conjuror! I'm afraid be'll find a tough bit of work on't. Gard. I wish the spirit may not carry a corner of the house off with him. But. As for that, Peter, you may be sure that the steward has made his bargain with the cunning-man beforehand, that he shall stand to all costs and damages-But hark! yonder's Mrs. Abigail, we shall have her with us immediately, if we do not get off. Gard. Ay, lads! if we could get Mrs. Abigail well laid, too-we should live merry lives. For to a man like me, that's stout and bold, ACT III. SCENE I. [Exeunt. Vel. First, let me lock the door. Sir G. Will your lady admit me? Vel. If this lock is not mended soon, it will be quite spoiled. Sir G. Pr'ythee let the lock alone at present, and answer me. Vel. Delays in business are dangerous-I must send for the smith next week-and in the mean time will take a minute of it. Sir G. But what says your lady? Vel. This pen is naught, and wants mending-My lady, did you say? Sir G. But when? Vel. Immediately. This instant. Sir G. Pugh. What hast thou been doing all this while? Why didst not tell me so? Give me my cloak-Have you yet met with Abigail? Vel. I have not yet had an opportunity of speaking with her. But we have interchanged some languishing glances. Sir G. Let thee alone for that, Vellum. I have formerly seen thee ogle her through thy spectacles. Well! this is a most venerable cloak. After the business of this day is over, I'll make thee a present of it. "Twill become thee mightily. Vel. He, he, he! would you make a conjuror of your steward? Sir G. Pr'ythee don't be jocular; I'm in haste. Help me on with my beard. Vel. And what will your ho-nour do with your cast beard? Sir G. Why, faith, thy gravity wants only such a beard to it: if thou wouldst wear it with the cloak, thou wouldst make a most complete heathen philosopher. But where's my wand? Vel. A fine taper stick! It is well chosen. I will keep this till you are sheriff of the county. It is not my custom to let any thing be lost. Sir G. Come, Vellum, lead the way. You must introduce me to your lady. Thou'rt the fittest fellow in the world to be master of the ceremonies to a conjuror. [Exeunt. SCENE II. Enter ABIGAIL crossing the stage, TINSEL following. Tin. Nabby, Nabby, whither so fast, child? Abi. Keep your hands to yourself. I'm going to call the steward to my lady. Tin. What, goodman Twofold? I met him walking with an old fellow yonder. I sup pose he belongs to the family too. He looks very antique. He must be some of the furniture of this old mansion-house. Abi. What does the man mean? Don't think to palm me, as you do my lady. Tin. Pr'ythee, Nabby, tell me one thing: What's the reason thou art my enemy? Abi. Marry, because I'm a friend to my lady. Tin. Dost thou see any thing about me theu dost not like? Come hither, hussey, give me a kiss. Don't be ill-natured. Abi. Sir, I know how to be civil. [Kisses her.] This rogue will carry off my lady, if I don't take care. [Aside. Tin. Thy lips are as soft as velvet, Abigail. I must get thee a husband. Abi. Ay, now you don't speak idly, I can talk to you. Tin. I have one in my eye for thee. Dost Tin. This is a thundering dog. Tin. A private gentleman. Tin. In the Horse-guards-But he has one fault I must tell thee of. If thou canst bear with that, he's a man for thy purpose. Abi. Pray, Mr. Tinsel, what may that be? Tin. No man better, child; he'll tie a wig, toss a die, make a pass, and swear with such a grace, as would make thy heart leap to hear him. Abi. Half these accomplishments will do, provided he has an estate-Pray what has he? Abi. How? Tin. Why, look ye, child, as soon as I have married thy lady, I design to discard this old prig of a steward, and to put this honest gen ileman, I am speaking of, into his place. Abi. [Aside.] This fellow's a fool-I'll have no more to say to him.-Hark! my lady's a coming. Tin. Depend upon it, Nab, I'll remember my promise. Abi. Ay, and so will I too-to your cost. Enter LADY. Lady. Oh, Mr. Tinsel, I am glad to meet you here, I am going to give you an entertainment, that wont be disagreeable to a man of wit and pleasure of the town-There may be something diverting in a conversation between a conjuror, and this conceited ass. [Aside. Tin. She loves me to distraction, I see that. [Aside.-Pr'ythee, widow, explain thyself. Lady. You must know there is a strange sort of a man come to town, who undertakes to free the house from this disturbance. The steward believes him a conjuror. Tin. Ay, thy steward is a deep one! Lady. He's to be here immediately. It is indeed an odd figure of a man. Tin. Oh! I warrant you he has studied the black art! Ha, ha, ha! Is he not an Oxford scholar? Widow, thy house is the most extraordinary inhabited of any widow's this day in Christendom.-I think thy four chief domestics area withered Abigail-a superannuated Steward-a Ghost-and a Conjuror. Lady. [Mimicking TINSEL.] And you would have it inhabited by a fitth, who is a more extraordinary person than any of all these four. Tin. 'Tis a sure sign a woman loves you, when she imitates your manner. [Aside.] Thou'rt very smart, my dear. But, see! smoke the Doctor. Enter VELLUM, and SIR GEORGE in his Conjuror's Habit. Vel. I will introduce this profound person to your ladyship, and then leave him with you.Sir, this is her ho-nour. Sir G. I know it well. [Exit VELLUM.] That dear woman! The sight of her unmans me. I could weep for tenderness, did not I, at the same time, feel an indignation rise in me, to see that wretch with her: and yet 1, cannot but smile to see her in the company of her first and second husband at the same time. [Aside, walking in a musing posture. Lady. Mr. Tinsel, do you speak to him; you are used to the company of men of learnng Tin. Old gentleman, thou dost not look like an inhabitant of this world; I suppose thou art lately come down from the stars. Pray, what news is stirring in the Zodiac? Sir G. News that ought to make the heart of a coward tremble. Mars is now entering into the first house, and will shortly appear in all his domal dignities Tin. Mars? Pr'ythee, Father Gray-beard, explain thyself. Sir G. The entrance of Mars into his house, portends the entrance of a master into this family-and that soon. Tin. D'ye hear that, widow? The stars have cut me out for thy husband. This house is to have a master, and that soon-Hark thee, old Gadbury? Is not Mars very like a young fellow called Tom Tinsel? Sir G. Not so much as Venus is like this lady. Tin. A word in your ear, Doctor; these two planets will be in conjunction by and by: I can tell you that. Sir G. [Aside, walking disturbed.] Curse on this impertinent fop! I shall scarce forbear discovering myself--Madam, I am told that your house is visited with strange noises. Lady. And I am told that you can quiet them. I must confess I had a curiosity to see the person I had heard so much of; and, indeed, your aspect shows that you have had much experience in the world. You must be a very aged man. Sir G. My aspect deceives you: What do you think is my real age? Tin. I should guess thee within three years of Mathusalah. Pr'ythee, tell me, wast not thou born before the flood? Lady. Truly, I should guess you to be in your second or third century. I warrant you, you have great grand-children with beards a foot long. Sir G. Ha, ha, ha! If there be truth in man, I was but five-and-thirty last August. O! the study of the occult sciences makes a man's beard grow faster than you would imagine. Lady. What an escape you have had, Mr. Tinsel, that you were not bred a scholar! Tin. And so I fancy, Doctor, thou thinkest me an illiterate fellow, because I have a smooth chin? Sir G. Hark ye, Sir, a word in your ear.You are a coxcomb, by all the rules of phisiognomy: but let that be a secret between you and me. [Aside, to TINSEL. Lady. Pray, Mr. Tinsel, what is it the Doctor whispers ? Tin. Only a compliment, child, upon two or three of my features. It does not become me to repeat it. Lady. Pray, Doctor, examine this gentleman's face, and tell me his fortune. Sir G. If I may believe the lines of his face, he likes it better than I do, or—----than you do, fair lady. Tin. Widow, I hope now thou'rt convinced he's a cheat. Lady. For my part, I believe he's a witch -go on, Doctor. Sir G. He will be crossed in love; and that soon. Tin. Pr'ythee, Doctor, tell us the truth. Dost not thou live in Moorfields? Sir G. Take my word for it, thou shalt never live in my lady Truman's mansion-house. Tin. Pray, old gentleman, hast thou never been plucked by the beard when thou wert saucy? Lady. Nay, Mr. Tinsel, you are angry! do you think I would marry a man that dares not have his fortune told. Sir G. Let him be angry-I matter not-He is but short-lived. He will soon die ofTin. Come, come, speak out, old Hocus; he, he, he! This fellow makes me burst with laughing. [Forces a laugh. Sir G. He will soon die of a fright-or of the -let me see your nose-Ay-'tis so! Tin. You son of a whore! I'll run you through the body. I never yet made the sun shine through a conjuror Lady. Oh, fy, Mr. Tinsel! you will not kill an old man? Tin. An old man! The dog says he's but five-and-thirty. Lady. Oh, fy, Mr. Tinsel! I did not think you could have been so passionate; I hate a passionate man. Put up your sword, or I must never see you again." Tin. Ha, ha, ha! I was but in jest, my dear. I had a mind to have made an experiment upon the Doctor's body. I would have but drilled a little eyelet-hole in it, and have seen whether he had art enough to close it up again. Sir G. Courage is but ill shown before a lady. But know, if ever I meet thee again, thou shalt find this arm can wield other weapons besides this wand. Tin. Ha, ha, ha! Lady. Well, learned Sir, you are to give a proof of your art, not of your courage. Or if you will show your courage, let it be at nine o'clock-for that is the time the noise is generally heard. Tin. And look ye, old gentleman, if thou dost not do thy business well, I can tell thee, by the little skill I have, that thou wilt be tossed in a blanket before ten. We'll do our endeavour to send thee back to the stars again. Sir G. I'll go and prepare myself for the ceremonies-And, lady, as you expect they should succeed to your wishes, treat that fellow with the contempt he deserves. [Exit. Tin. The sauciest dog I ever talked with in my whole life! Ludy. Methinks he's a diverting fellow; one may see he's no fool. Tin. No fool! Ay, but thou dost not take him for a conjuror. Lady. Truly, I don't know what to take him for; I am resolved to employ him however.When a sickness is desperate, we often try remedies that we have no great faith in. Enter ABIGAIL. Lady Come, Mr. Tinsel, we may there talk of the subject more at leisure. [Exit with TINSEL. Abi. Surely never any lady had such servants as mine has. Well, if I get this thousand pound, I hope to have some of my own. Let me see, I'll have a pretty, tight girl-just such as I was ten years ago, (I'm afraid I may say twenty;) she shall dress me, and flatter me-for I will be flattered, that's pos. My lady's cast suits will serve her after I have given them the wearing. Besides, when I am worth a thousand pound, I shall certainly carry off the steward. -Madam Vellum-how prettily that will sound! here, bring out Madam Vellum's chaise-nay, 1 do not know but it may be a chariot-It will break the attorney's wife's heart--for I shall take place of every body in the parish but my lady. If I have a son, he shall be called Fantome. But see, Mr. Vellum, as I could wish. I know his humour, and will do my utmost to gain his heart. Enter VELLUM with a pint of sack. Vel. Mrs. Abigail, don't I break in upon you unseasonably! Abi. Oh, no, Mr. Vellum, your visits are always seasonable? Vel. I have brought with me a taste of fresh Canary, which I think is delicious. Abi. Pray set it down-I have a dram glass just by. [Brings in a rummer.] I'll pledge you; my lady's good health. Vel. And your own with it-sweet Mrs. Abigail. Abi. Pray, good Mr. Vellum, buy me a little parcel of this sack, and put it under the artic e of tea-I would not have my name appear to it. Vel. Mrs. Abigail, your name seldom appears in my bills- -and yet--if you will allow me a merry expression-you have been always in my books, Mrs. Abigail. Ha, ha, ha! Abi. Ha, ha, ha! Mr. Vellum, you are such a dry jesting man! Vel. Why, truly, Mrs. Abigail, I have been looking over my papers-and I find you have been a long time my debtor. Abi. Your debtor! For what, Mr. Vellum! Vel. For my heart, Mrs. Abigail-And our accounts will not be balanced between us till I have yours in exchange for it. Ha, ha, ha! Abi. Ha, ha, ha! You are the most gallant dun, Mr. Vellum. Vel. But I am not used to be paid by words only, Mrs. Abigail; when will you be out of my debt? Abi. Oh, Mr. Vellum, you make one blush! My humble service to you. Vel. I must answer you, Mrs. Abigail, in the country phrase.-Your love is sufficient. Ha, ha, ha! Abi. Ha, ha, ha! Well, I must own I love a merry man! Vel. Let me see, how long is it, Mrs. Abigail, since I first broke my mind to you-It was, I think, undecimo Gulielmi-We have conversed together these fifteen years and yet, Mrs. Abigail, I must drink to our better acquaintance. He, he, he-Mrs. Abigail, you know I am naturally jocose. Abi. Ah, you men love to make sport with us silly creatures! Vel. Mrs. Abigail, I have a trifle about me Abi. Madam, the tea is ready in the parlour, which I would willingly make you a present of. as you ordered. It is indeed but a little toy. Abi. I always said Mr. Vellum was a generous lover. Vel. But I must put it on myself, Mrs. Abigail-You have the pretiest tip of a finger-I must take the freedom to salute it. aged, will be no less than a thousand pound in our way. Vel. Ay, say'st thou so, my turtle? Abi. Since we are now as good as man and wife-I mean, almost as good as man and wife-I ought to conceal nothing from you. Vel. Certainly, my dove, not from thy yoke. fellow, thy help-mate, thy own flesh and blood! Abi. Hush! I hear Mr. Tinsel's laugh; my lady and he are a coming this way; if you will take a turn without, I'll tell you the whole contrivance. Vel. Give me your hand, chicken. Abi. Oh fy! you make me ashamed, Mr. Vellum: how can you do so? I protest I am in such a confusion[A feigned struggle. Vel. This finger is not the finger of idleness; it bears the honourable scars of the needle-ready. But why are you so cruel as not to pare your nails? Abi. Oh, I vow you press it so hard! pray give me my finger again. Vel. This middle finger, Mrs. Abigail, has a pretty neighbour-a wedding-ring would become it mightily-He, he, he! Abi. You're so full of your jokes. Ay, but where must I find one for't. Vel. I design this thimble only as the forerunner of it: they will set off each other, and are, indeed, a twofold emblem. The first will put you in mind of being a good housewife, and the other of being a good wife. Ha, ha, ha! Abi. Yes, yes, I see you laugh at me. Abi. I thought you had quite forsaken meI am sure you cannot forget the many repeatel vows and promises you formerly made me. Vel. I should as soon forget the multiplication table. Abi. I have always taken your part before my lady, Vel. You have so, and I have item'd it in my memory. Abi. For I have always looked upon your interests as my own. Vel. It is nothing but your cruelty can hinder them from being so. Abi. I must strike while the iron's hot. [Aside.]-Well, Mr. Vellum, there's no refusing you, you have such a bewitching tongue? Vel. We shall have much issue. ACT IV. SCENE I. Enter VELLUM and BUTLER. [Exeunt. Vel. John, I have certain orders to give you and therefore be attentive. But. Attentive! Ay, let me alone for thatI suppose he means being sober. [Aside. Vel. You know I have always recommended to you a method in your business; I would have your knives and forks, your spoons and napkins, your plate and glasses laid in a inethod. But. Ah, master Vellum, you are such a sweet-spoken man, it does one's heart good to receive your orders. Vel. Method, John, makes business easy; it banishes all perplexity and confusion out of families. But. How he talks! I could hear him all day. Vel. And now, John, let me know whether your table-linen, your side-board, your cellar, and every thing else within your province, are properly and methodically disposed for an entertainment this evening. But. Master Vellum, they shall be ready at a quarter of an hour's warning. But pray, Sir, is this entertainment to be made for the conjuror? Vel. It is, John, for the conjuror, and yet it Vel. How? Speak that again! you. Vel. I am overjoyed! [Catching her in his arms. Abi. Dear charming man! Vel. Thou sum total of all my happiness! I shall grow extravagant! I can't forbear todrink thy virtuous inclinations in a bumper of sack. Your lady must make haste, my duck, or we shall provide a young steward to the estate, before she has an heir to itPr'ythee, my dear, does she intend to marry Mr. Tinsel? Abi. Marry him! my love. No, no! we must take care of that! there would be no staying in the house for us if she did. That young rake-hell would send all the old servants a grazing. You and I should be discarded before the honey-moon was at an end. Vel. Pry'thee, sweet one, does not this drum put the thoughts of marriage out of her head? Abi. This drum, my dear, if it be well man But. Why, look you, master Vellum, if it be for the conjuror, the cook-maid should have orders to get him some dishes to his palate. Perhaps he may like a little brimstone in his sauce. Vel. This conjuror, John, is a complicated creature, an amphibious animal, a person of a twofold nature-But he eats and drinks like other men. But. Marry, master Vellum, he should eat and drink as much as two other men, by the account you give of him. Vel. Thy conceit is not amiss; he is indeed a double man; ha, ha, ha! But. Ha! I understand you; he's one of your hermaphrodites, as they call them. Vel. He is married, and he is not marriedHe hath a beard, and he hath no beard. He is old, and he is young. But. How charmingly he talks! I fancy, master Vellum, you could make a riddle. The same man old and young! how do you make that out, master Vellum? |