Massinger was joint author with Decker, of the play from which the scene of the lady and the angel is taken; but nobody who knows the style of the two men can doubt for a moment to which it belongs. I have, therefore, without hesitation assigned it according to the opinion expressed by Mr. Lamb. FLIGHT OF WITCHES. Scene, a Field. Enter HECATE, STADLIN, HOPPO, and other Witches. FIRESTONE in the background. Hec. The moon's a gallant; see how brisk she rides! Stad. Here's a rich evening, Hecate. Stad. There was a bat hung at my lips three times, The very screech-owl lights upon your shoulder, [Exeunt all the Witches except HECATE. Fire. They are all going a birding to-night: they talk of fowls i' th' air that fly by day; I am sure they'll be a company of foul sluts there to-night: if we have not mortality after 't, 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? [Aside. Nineteen, and all brave plump ones, besides Fire. 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 panax too-I thank thee-my pan aches I'm sure, with kneeling down to cut 'em. Hec. And selago, Hedge-hysop too; how near he goes my cuttings! Were they all cropt by moonlight? Fire. Every blade of 'em, Hie thee home with 'em : Or I'm a moon-calf, mother. Hec. Look well to the house to-night; I'm for aloft. Fire. Aloft, quoth you? I would you would break your neck once, that I might have all quickly! [Aside.]—Hark, hark, mother! they are above the steeple already, flying over your head with a noise of musicians. Hec. They're they indeed. Help, help me; I'm too late else. 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. [Voice above.] There's one comes down to fetch his dues, A kiss, a coll, a sip of blood; And why thou stay'st so long, I muse, Since the air 's so sweet and good? Hec. O, art thou come? what news, what news? Either come, or else refuse. Hec. Now I'm furnished for the flight. Fire. Hark, hark, the cat rings a brave treble in her own language! [Hec. going up.] Now I go, now I fly, Malkin my sweet spirit and I. O what a dainty pleasure 't is To ride in the air When the moon shines fair, And sing and dance, and toy and kiss! Or cannon's throat our height can reach. [Voice above.] No ring of bells, &c. Fire. Well, mother, I thank your kindness: you must be gambolling i' th' air, and leave me to walk here, like a fool and a mortal. wwwwww MIDDLETON. THE CHRISTIAN LADY AND THE ANGEL. An ANGEL, in the guise of a Page, attends on DOROTHEA. Dor. My book and taper Ang. Here, most holy mistress. Dor. Thy voice sends forth such music, that I never Was ravish'd with a more celestial sound. Were every servant in the world like thee, So full of goodness, angels would come down And like that name thou art. Get thee to rest; Ang. No, my dear lady; I could weary stars, Therefore, my most lov'd mistress, do not bid Your boy, so serviceable, to get hence; For then you break his heart. Dor. This little, pretty body, when I, coming My sweet-faced, godly beggar-boy, crave an alms, Ang. Proud am I, that my lady's modest eye Dor. Know who my mother was; but by yon palace, Dor. O blessed day! We all long to be there, but lose the way. [Exeunt DOROTHEA is executed; and the ANGEL visits THEOPHILUS, the Judge that condemned her. Theoph. (alone) This Christian slut was well, A pretty one; but let such horror follow The next I feed with torments, that when Rome Ang. Are you amazed, sir? So great a Roman spirit, and doth it tremble? Theoph. How cam'st thou in? to whom thy business? I had a mistress, late sent hence by you Upon a bloody errand; you entreated, That, when she came into that blessed garden Whither she knew she went, and where, now happy, Theoph. Cannot I see this garden? Will give you entrance. Theoph. Yes, if the master 'Tis a tempting fruit, (He vanishes.) And the most bright-cheek'd child I ever view'd; Compar'd with these are weeds: is it not February, Jul. Where? Theoph. And guarded. Saw you not Here he enter'd, a young lad; A thousand blessings danc'd upon his eyes; A smooth-fac'd glorious thing, that brought this basket. Geta. No, sir. Theoph. Away! but be in reach, if my voice calls you. |