I'll mar their sillabubs, and swarthy feastings
Under cows' bellies, with the parish youths.

HECATE, STADLIN, HOPPO, with the other Witches, preparing for their midnight journey through the air. FIRESTONE, HECATE'S Son.

Hec. The Moon's a gallant: see how brisk she rides! Stad. Here's a rich evening, Hecate.

Hec. Ay, is't not, wenches,

To take a journey of five thousand mile?

Hop. Ours will be more to-night.

Hec. Oh, 'twill be precious!

Heard you the owl yet?

Stad. Briefly in the copse,

As we came through now.

Hec. 'Tis high time for us, then.

Stad. There was a bat hung 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 screech-owl lights upon your shoulder,

And woos you

like a pigeon. Are you furnished?

Have you your ointments?

Stad. All.

Hec. Prepare to flight, then

I'll overtake you swiftly.

Stad. Hie thee, Hecate!

We shall be up betimes.

Hec. I'll reach you quickly. [The other Witches mount. Fire. They are all going a-birding to-night. They talk of fowls in the air, that fly by day; I am sure, they'll be a company of foul sluts there to-night. If we have not mor

tality offered, I'll be hanged; for they are able to putrefy it, to infect a whole region.-She spies me now.

Hec. What! Firestone, our sweet son?

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

Hec. How much hast here?

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

Hec. Dear and sweet boy, what herbs hast thou?
Fire. I have some marmartin and mandragon.

Hec. Marmaritin and mandragora, thou wouldst say. Fire. Here's pannax too: I thank thee, my pan aches, I am sure, with kneeling down to cut 'em.

Hec. And selago,

Hedge-hyssop too: how near he goes my cuttings!
Were they all cropped by moonlight?

Fire. Every blade of 'em, or I am a moon-calf, mother.
Hec. Hie thee home with 'em.

Look well to the house to-night; I am for aloft.

Fire. Aloft, quoth you? I would you would break your neck once, that I might have all quickly. Hark! hark, mother! they are above the steeple already, flying over your head with a noise of musicians.

Hec. They are indeed.

late else.

Help me, help me! I'm too

Song in the Air.

Come away, come away!

Hecate, Hecate, come away!

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

With all the speed I may,

*Probably the true reading is after 't.

With all the speed I may !
Where's Stadlin?

[Above.] Here!

Hec. Where's Puckle?
[Above.] Here!-

And Hoppo too, and Hellwain too:
We lack but you, we lack but you;

Come away! make up the count.

Hec. I will but 'noint, and then I mount.

[A Spirit like a cat descends.

[Above.] There's one come down to fetch his dues;

A kiss, a coll, a slip of blood:

And why thou stay'st so long, I muse, I muse,

Since the air's so sweet and good.

Hec. Oh, art thou come?

What news? what news?

Spirit. All goes still to our delight:

Either come, or else

Refuse, refuse.

Hec. Now I am furnished for the flight.

Fire. Hark, hark! the cat sings a brave treble in her

own language.

Hec. [Going up.] Now I go, now I fly,

Malkin my sweet Spirit and I.

Oh, what a dainty pleasure 'tis
To ride in the air

When the moon shines fair,

And sing, and dance, and toy, and kiss!
Over woods, high rocks, and mountains,
Over seas (our mistress' fountains),
Over steep towers and turrets,

We fly by night 'mongst troops of spirits.

No ring of bells to our ears sounds,

No howls of wolves, no yelps of hounds;
No, not the noise of water's breach,
Or cannon's throat, our height can reach.
[Above.] No ring of bells, &c.

Fire. Well, mother, I thank your kindness; you must be Gambolling in the air, and leave me to walk here like a fool and a mortal. . . .

...

A Charm-Song about a Vessel.

Hec. Black spirits and white, red spirits and gray,
Mingle, mingle, mingle, you that mingle may.
Titty, Tiffin, keep it stiff in;
Fire-drake, Puckey, make it lucky;

Liard, Robin, you must bob in.

Round, around, around, about, about;

All ill come running in, all good keep out! First Witch. Here's the blood of a bat.

Hec. Put in that-oh, put in that!

Sec. Witch. Here's libbard's bane.

Hec. Put in again.

First Witch. The juice of toad; the oil of adder.
Sec. Witch. Those will make the younker madder.

Hec. Put in, there's all, and rid the stench.

Fire. Nay, here's three ounces of the red-haired wench.

All. Round, around, around, &c.

Hec. So, so, enough: into the vessel with it.

There't hath the true perfection! I am so light*
At any mischief, there's no villany

But is a tune, methinks.

* Light-hearted.

Fire. A tune! 'tis to the tune of damnation, then, I

warrant you,

And that song hath a villanous burthen.

Hec. Come, my sweet sisters, let the air strike our tune; Whilst we show reverence to yon peeping moon.

[The Witches dance, et exeunt

ΝΟ

WIT

LIKE A WOMAN'S.

HELP

Virtuous Poverty.

'LIFE! had he not his answer? what strange impudence Governs in man, when lust is lord of him!

Thinks he me mad? 'cause I have no moneys on earth, That I'll go forfeit my estate in heaven,

And live eternal beggar? He shall pardon me;

That's my soul's jointure; I'll starve ere I sell that!

Good and Ill Fortune.

I feel a hand of mercy

O my blessing!

lift me up

Out of a world of waters, and now sets me
Upon a mountain, where the sun plays most,
To cheer my heart even as it dries my limbs.
What deeps I see beneath me! in whose falls
Many a nimble mortal toils,

And scarce can feed himself: the streams of fortune,
'Gainst which he tugs in vain, still beat him down,
And will not suffer him (past hand to mouth)
To lift his arm to his posterities' blessing.
I see a careful sweat run in a ring

About his temples, but all will not do: