BRIAN.
But where be they?

MILLISCENT.
They be not far off, here about the grove.

[Enter Clare and Jerningham.]

CLARE.
Be not afraid, man, I heard Brian's tongue,
That's certain.

JERNINGHAM.
Call softly for your sister.

CLARE.
Milliscent!

MILLISCENT.
Aye, brother, here.

BRIAN.
Maister Clare!

CLARE.
I told you it was Brian.

BRIAN.
Who's that?  Maister Jerningham: you are a couple of hot-shots;
does a man commit his wench to you, to put her to grass at
this time of night

JERNINGHAM.
We heard a noise about her in the chase,
And fearing that our fathers had pursued us,
Severd our selves.

CLARE.
Brian, how hapd'st thou on her?

BRIAN.
Seeking for stealers are abroad to night,
My hound stayed on her, and so found her out.

CLARE.
They were these stealers that affrighted us;
I was hard upon them, when they horst their Deer,
And I perceive they took me for a keeper.

BRIAN.
Which way took they?

JERNINGHAM.
Towards Enfield.

BRIAN.
A plague upon 't, that's that damned Priest, and Blague of
the George, he that serves the good Duke of Norfolk.

[A noise within:  Follow, follow, follow.]

CLARE.
Peace, that's my father's voice.

BRIAN.
Z'ownds, you suspected them, and now they are here indeed.

MILLISCENT.
Alas, what shall we do?

BRIAN.
If you go to the lodge, you are surely taken;
Strike down the wood to Enfield presently,
And if Mounchensey come, I'll send him t'yee.
Let me alone to bussle with your father;
I warrant you that I will keep them play
Till you have quit the chase; away, away!

[Exeunt all but Brian.]

Who's there?

[Enter the Knights.]

SIR RAPH.
In the king's name, pursue the Ravisher!

BRIAN.
Stand, or I'll shoot.

SIR ARTHUR.
Who's there?

BRIAN.
I am the keeper that do charge you stand;
You have stolen my Deer.

SIR ARTHUR.
We stolen thy Deer? we do pursue a thief.

BRIAN.
You are arrant thieves, and ye have stolen my Deer.

SIR RAPH.
We are Knights; Sir Arthur Clare, and Sir Raph Jerningham.

BRIAN.
The more your shame, that Knights should be such thieves.

SIR ARTHUR.
Who, and what art thou?

BRIAN.
My name is Brian, keeper of this walk.

SIR ARTHUR.
O Brian, a villain!
Thou hast received my daughter to thy lodge.

BRIAN.
You have stolen the best Deer in my walk to night.  My Deer!

SIR ARTHUR.
My daughter!
Stop not my way!

BRIAN.
What make you in my walk? you have stolen the best Buck in
my walk to night.

SIR ARTHUR.
My daughter!

BRIAN.
My Deer!

SIR RAPH.
Where is Mountchensey?

BRIAN.
Where's my Buck?

SIR ARTHUR.
I will complain me of thee to the King.

BRIAN.
I'll complain unto the King you spoil his game:
Tis strange that men of your account and calling
Will offer it!
I tell you true, Sir Arthur and Sir Raph,
That none but you have only spoild my game.

SIR ARTHUR.
I charge you, stop us not!

BRIAN.
I charge you both ye get out of my ground!
Is this a time for such as you,
Men of your place and of your gravity,
To be abroad a thieving? tis a shame;
And, afore God, if I had shot at you,
I had served you well enough.

[Exeunt.]


SCENE II.  Enfield Churchyard.

[Enter Banks the Miller, wet on his legs.]

BANKS.
S'foot, here's a dark night indeed!  I think I have been
in fifteen ditches between this and the forest.  Soft, here's
Enfield Church:  I am so wet with climing over into an
orchard for to steal some filberts.  Well, here I'll sit in
the Church porch, and wait for the rest of my consort.

[Enter the Sexton.]

SEXTON.
Here's a sky as black as Lucifer.  God bless us! here was
goodman Theophilus buried; he was the best Nutcracker that
ever dwelt in Enfield.  Well, tis 9. a clock, tis time to
ring curfew.  Lord bless us, what a white thing is that in
the Church porch!  O Lord, my legs are too weak for my body,
my hair is too stiff for my night-cap, my heart fails; this
is the ghost of Theophilus.  O Lord, it follows me!  I
cannot say my prayers, and one would give me a thousand
pound.  Good spirit, I have bowled and drunk and followed
the hounds with you a thousand times, though I have not the
spirit now to deal with you.  O Lord!

[Enter Priest.]

PRIEST.
Grass and hey, we are all mortall.  Who's there?

SEXTON.
We are grass and hay indeed; I know you to be Master
Parson by your phrase.

PRIEST.
Sexton!

PRIEST.
I, sir.

PRIEST.
For mortalities sake, What's the matter?

SEXTON.
O Lord, I am a man of another element; Master Theophilus
Ghost is in the Church porch.  There was a hundred Cats,
all fire, dancing here even now, and they are clomb up
to the top of the steeple; I'll not into the belfry for a
world.

PRIEST.
O good Salomon; I have been about a deed of darkness to
night:  O Lord, I saw fifteen spirits in the forest, like
white bulls; if I lie, I am an arrant thief: mortality
haunts us--grass and hay! the devils at our heels, and let's
hence to the parsonage.

[Exeunt.]

[The Miller comes out very softly.]

MILLER.
What noise was that? tis the watch, sure; that villanous
unlucky rogue, Smug, is tain, upon my life; and then all
our villeny comes out; I heard one cry, sure.

[Enter Host Blague.]

HOST.
If I go steal any more venison, I am a Paradox:  s'foot,
I can scarce bear the sin of my flesh in the day, tis so
heavy; if I turn not honest, and serve the good Duke of
Norfolk, as true mareterraneum skinker should do, let me
never look higher then the element of a Constable.

MILLER.
By the Lord, there are some watchmen; I hear them name
Maister Constable; I would to God my Mill were an Eunuch,
and wanted her stones, so I were hence.

HOST.
Who's there?

MILLER.
Tis the Constable, by this light; I'll steal hence, and if
I can meet mine host Blague, I'll tell him how Smug is
tain, and will him to look to himself.

[Exit.]

HOST.
What the devil is that white thing? this same is a Church-
yard, and I have heard that ghosts and villenous goblins
have been seen here.

[Enter Sexton and Priest.]

PRIEST.
Grass and hay!  O, that I could conjure! we saw a spirit
here in the Church-yard; and in the fallow field there's
the devil with a man's body upon his back in a white sheet.

SEXTON.
It may be a woman's body, Sir John.

PRIEST.
If she be a woman, the sheets damn her; Lord bless us, what
a night of mortality is this!

HOST.
Priest!

PRIEST.
Mine host!

HOST.
Did you not see a spirit all in white cross you at the stile?

SEXTON.
O no, mine host; but there sate one in the porch; I have not
breath ynough left to bless me from the Devil.

HOST.
Who's that?

PRIEST.
The Sexton, almost frighted out of his wits.  Did you see
Banks or Smug?

HOST.
No, they are gone to Waltham, sure:  I would fain hence; come,
let's to my house: I'll ne'er serve the duke of Norfolk in
this fashion again whilst I breath.  If the devil be amongst
us, tis time to hoist sail, and cry roomer.  Keep together;
Sexton, thou art secret, what? let's be comfortable one to
Another.

PRIEST.
We are all mortal, mine host.

HOST.
True; and I'll serve God in the night hereafter afore the
Duke of Norfolk.

[Exeunt.]


ACT V.

SCENE I.  An Inn opposite the George, Waltham.


[Enter Sir Arthur Clare and Sir Ralph Jerningham, trussing
their points as new up.]

SIR RAPH.
Good morrow, gentle knight.
A happy day after your short nights rest.

SIR ARTHUR.
Ha, ha, sir Raph, stirring so soon indeed?
Birlady, sir, rest would have done right well;
Our riding late last night has made me drowsy.
Go to, go to, those days are gone with us.

SIR RAPH.
Sir Arthur, Sir Arthur, care go with those days,
Let 'am even go together, let 'am go!
Tis time, yfaith, that we were in our graves,
When Children leave obedience to their parents,
When there's no fear of God, no care, no duty.
Well, well, nay, nay, it shall not do, it shall not;
No, Mountchensey, thou'st hear on't, thou shalt,
Thou shalt, yfaith!
I'll hang thy Son, if there be law in England.
A man's Child ravisht from a Nunry!
This is rare!
Well, well, there's one gone for Friar Hildersam.

SIR ARTHUR.
Nay, gentle Knight, do not vex thus,
It will but hurt your health.
You cannot grieve more then I do, but to what end?  But hark
you, Sir Raph, I was about to say something--it makes no
matter.  But heark you in your ear:  the Friar's a knave;
but God forgive me, a man cannot tell neither; s'foot, I am
so out of patience, I know not what to say.

SIR RAPH.
There's one went for the Friar an hour ago.  Comes he not
yet? s'foot, if I do find knavery unders cowl, I'll tickle
him, I'll firk him.  Here, here, he's here, he's here.  Good
morrow, Friar; good morrow, gentle Friar.

[Enter Hildersham.]

SIR ARHTUR.
Good morrow, father Hildersham, good morrow.

HILDERSHAM.
Good morrow, reverend Knights, unto you both.

SIR ARTHUR.
Father, how now? you hear how matters go;
I am undone, my child is cast away.
You did your best, at least I think the best;
But we are all crost; flatly, all is dasht.

HILDERSHAM.
Alas, good knights, how might the matter be?
Let me understand your grief for Charity.

SIR ARTHUR.
Who does not understand my griefs?  Alas, alas!
And yet ye do not!  Will the Church permit
A nun in approbation of her habit
To be ravished?

HILDERSHAM.
A holy woman, benedicite!
Now God forfend that any should presume
To touch the sister of a holy house.

SIR ARTHUR.
Jesus deliver me!

SIR RAPH.
Why, Millisent, the daughter of this Knight
Is out of Chesson taken the last night.

HILDERSHAM.
Was that fair maiden late become a nun?

SIR RAPH.
Was she, quotha?  Knavery, knavery, knavery; I smell it, I
smell it, yfaith; is the wind in that door? is it even so?
doost thou ask me that now?

HILDERSHAM.
It is the first time that I ere heard of it.

SIR ARTHUR.
That's very strange.

SIR RAPH.
Why, tell me, Friar, tell me; thou art counted a holy man;
do not play the hypocrite with me, nor bear with me.  I cannot
dissemble:  did I ought but by thy own consent? by thy
allowance? nay, further, by thy warrant?

HILDERSHAM.
Why, Reverend knight--

SIR RAPH.
Unreverend Friar--

HILDERSHAM.
Nay, then give me leave, sir, to depart in quiet; I had
hoped you had sent for me to some other end.

SIR ARTHUR.
Nay, stay, good Friar; if any thing hath hapd
About this matter in thy love to u,
That thy strickt order cannot justify,
Admit it be so, we will cover it.
Take no care, man:
Disclaim me yet thy counsell and advise,
The wisest man that is may be o'erreacht.

HILDERSHAM.
Sir Arthur, by my order and my faith,
I know not what you mean.

SIR RAPH.
By your order and your faith?
This is most strange of all:  Why, tell me, Friar,
Are not you Confessor to my Son Francke?

HILDERSHAM.
Yes, that I am.

SIR RAPH.
And did not this good knight here and my self
Confess with you, being his ghostly Father,
To deal with him about th' unbanded marriage
Betwixt him and that fair young Millisent?

HILDERSHAM.
I never heard of any match intended.

SIR ARTHUR.
Did not we break our minds that very time,
That our device of making her a Nun
Was but a colour and a very plot
To put by young Mountchensey?  Ist not true?

HILDERSHAM.
The more I strive to know what you should mean,
The less I understand you.

SIR RAPH.
Did not you tell us still how Peter Fabell
At length would cross us, if we took not heed?

HILDERSHAM.
I have heard of one that is a great magician,
But he's about the University.

SIR RAPH.
Did not you send your novice Benedic
To persuade the girl to leave Mountchensey's love,
To cross that Peter Fabell in his art,
And to that purpose made him visitor?

HILDERSHAM.
I never sent my novice from the house,
Nor have we made our visitation yet.

SIR ARTHUR.
Never sent him?  Nay, did he not go?
And did not I direct him to the house,
And confer with him by the way? and did he not
Tell me what charge he had received from you,
Word by word, as I requested at your hands?

HILDERSHAM.
That you shall know; he came along with me,
And stays without.  Come hither, Benedic!

[Enter Benedic.]

Young Benedic, were you ere sent by me
To Chesson Nunnery for a visitor?

BENEDIC.
Never, sir, truly.

SIR RAPH.
Stranger then all the rest!

SIR ARTHUR.
Did not I direct you to the house?
Confer with you
From Waltham Abbey unto Chesson wall?

BENEDIC.
I never saw you, sir, before this hour.

SIR RAPH.
The devill thou didst not!  Hoe, Chamberlen!

[Enter Chamberlaine.]

CHAMB.
Anon, anon.

SIR RAPH.
Call mine host Blague hither!

CHAMB.
I will send one over to see if he be up; I think he be
scarce stirring yet.

SIR RAPH.
Why, knave, didst thou not tell me an hour ago, mine host
was up?

CHAMB.
Aye, sir, my Master's up.

SIR RAPH.
You knave, is a up, and is a not up?  Dost thou mock me?

CHAMB.
Aye, sir, my M. is up; but I think M. Blague indeed be not
Stirring.

SIR RAPH.
Why, who's thy Master? is not the Master of the house thy
Master?

CHAMB.
Yes, sir; but M. Blague dwells over the way.

SIR ARTHUR.
Is not this the George?  Before God, there's some villany
in this.

CHAMB.
Sfoot, our signs removed; this is strange!

[Exeunt.]


SCENE II.  The George Inn.


[Enter Blague, trussing his points.]

BLAGUE.
Chamberlen, speak up to the new lodgings, bid Nell look well
to the baked meats.

[Enter Sir Arthur and Sir Raph.]

How now, my old Jenerts bauke my house, my castle? lie in
Waltham all night, and not under the Canopy of your host
Blague's house?

SIR ARTHUR.
Mine host, mine host, we lay all night at the George in
Waltham; but whether the George be your fee-simple or no,
tis a doubtful question:  look upon your sign.

HOST.
Body of Saint George, this is mine overthwart neighbour hath
done this to seduce my blind customers.  I'll tickle his
Catastrophe for this; if I do not indite him at next assisses
for Burglary, let me die of the yellows; for I see tis no
boot in these days to serve the good Duke of Norfolk.  The
villanous world is turned manger; one Jade deceives another,
and your Ostler plays his part commonly for the fourth share.
Have we Comedies in hand, you whoreson, villanous male London
Letcher?

SIR ARTHUR.
Mine host, we have had the moylingst night of it that ever
we had in our lives.

HOST.
Ist certain?

SIR RAPH.
We have been in the Forest all night almost.

HOST.
S'foot, how did I miss you? hart, I was a stealing a Buck
there.

SIR ARTHUR.
A plague on you; we were stayed for you.

HOST.
Were you, my noble Romans?  Why, you shall share; the venison
is a footing.  Sine Cerere and Baccho friget Venus; That is,
there's a good breakfast provided for a marriage that's in my
house this morning.

SIR ARTHUR.
A marriage, mine host?

HOST.
A conjunction copulative; a gallant match between your
daughter and M. Raymond Mountchensey, young Juventus.

SIR ARTHUR.
How?

HOST.
Tis firm, tis done.  We'll shew you a president i'th civil
law fort.

SIR RAPH.
How? married?

HOST.
Leave tricks and admiration.  There's a cleanly pair of sheets
in the bed in Orchard chamber, and they shall lie there.  What?
I'll do it; I'll serve the good Duke of Norfolk.

SIR ARTHUR.
Thou shalt repent this, Blague.

SIR RAPH.
If any law in England will make thee smart for this, expect it
with all severity.

HOST.
I renounce your defiance; if you parle so roughly, I'll barracado
my gates against you.  stand fair, bully; Priest, come off from
the rereward!  What can you say now?  Twas done in my house; I
have shelter i'th Court for't.  D'yee see yon bay window?  I
serve the good duke of Norfolk, and tis his lodging.  Storm, I
care not, serving the good Duke of Norfolk:  thou art an actor
in this, and thou shalt carry fire in thy face eternally.

[Enter Smug, Mountchensey, Harry Clare, and Milliscent.]

SMUG.
Fire, s'blood, there's no fire in England like your Trinidado
sack.  Is any man here humorous?  We stole the venison, and
we'll justify it:  say you now!

HOST.
In good sooth, Smug, there's more sack on the fire, Smug.

SMUG.
I do not take any exceptions against your sack; but it you'll
lend me a pick staff, I'll cudgle them all hence, by this hand.

HOST.
I say thou shalt in to the Celler.

SMUG.
S'foot, mine Host, shalls not grapple?  Pray, pray you; I
could fight now for all the world like a Cockatrices ege; shals
not serve the Duke of Norfolk?

[Exit.]

HOST.
In, skipper, in!

SIR ARTHUR.
Sirra, hath young Mountchensey married your sister?

HARRY CLARE.
Tis Certain, Sir; here's the priest that coupled them, the
parties joined, and the honest witness that cried Amen.

MOUNTCHENSEY.
Sir Arthur Clare, my new created Father, I beseech you,
hear me.

SIR ARTHUR.
Sir, Sir, you are a foolish boy; you ahve done that you
cannot answer; I dare be bound to seize her from you; for
she's a profest Nun.

MILLISCENT.
With pardon, sir, that name is quite undone;
This true-love knot cancels both maid and Nun.
When first you told me I should act that part,
How cold and bloody it crept o'er my heart!
To Chesson with a smiling brow I went;
But yet, dear sir, it was to this intent,
That my sweet Raymond might find better means
To steal me thence.  In brief, disguised he came,
Like Novice to old father Hildersham;
His tutor here did act that cunning part,
And in our love hath joined much wit to art.

CLARE.
Is't even so?

MILLISCENT.
With pardon therefore we intreat your smiles;
Love thwarted turns itself to thousand wiles.

CLARE.
Young Master Jerningham, were you an actor
In your own love's abuse?

JERNINGHAM.
My thoughts, good sir,
Did labour seriously unto this end,
To wrong my self, ere I'd abuse my friend.

HOST.
He speaks like a Batchelor of musicke, all in numbers.
Knights, if I had known you would have let this covy of
Patridges sit thus long upon their knees under my sign
post, I would have spread my door with old Coverlids.

SIR ARTHUR.
Well, sir, for this your sign was removed, was it?

HOST.
Faith, we followed the directions of the devill, Master Peter
Fabell; and Smug, Lord bless us, could never stand upright
since.

SIR ARTHUR.
You, sir, twas you was his minister that married them?

SIR JOHN.
Sir, to prove my self an honest man, being that I was last
night in the forrest stealing Venison--now, sir, to have you
stand my friend, if that matter should be called in question,
I married your daughter to this worthy gentleman.

SIR ARTHUR.
I may chance to requite you, and make your neck crack for't.

SIR JOHN.
If you do, I am as resolute as my Neighbour vicar of Waltham
Abbey; a hem, Grass and hay, we are all mortall; let's live
till we be hangd, mine host, and be merry, and there's an end.

[Enter Fabell.]

FABELL.
Now, knights, I enter; now my part begins.
To end this difference, know, at first I knew
What you intended, ere your love took flight
From old Mountchensey; you, sir Arthur Clare,
Were minded to have married this sweet beauty
To young Franke Jerningham; to cross which match,
I used some pretty sleights; but I protest
Such as but sate upon the skirts of Art;
No conjurations, nor such weighty spells
As tie the soul to their performancy.
These for his love, who once was my dear pupil,
Have I effected.  Now, me thinks, tis strange
That you, being old in wisdom, should thus knit
Your forehead on this match, since reason fails;
No law can curb the lovers rash attempt;
Years, in resisting this, are sadly spent.
Smile, then, upon your daughter and kind son,
And let our toil to future ages prove,
The devil of Edmonton did good in Love.

SIR ARTHUR.
Well, tis in vain to cross the providence:
Dear Son, I take thee up into my heart;
Rise, daughter; this is a kind father's part.

HOST.
Why, Sir John, send for Spindles noise presently:  Ha, ert be
night, I'll serve the good Duke of Norfolk.

PRI.
Grass and hay, mine Host, let's live till we die, and be
merry, and there's an end.

SIR ARTHUR.
What, is breakfast ready, mine Host?

HOST.
Tis, my little Hebrew.

SIR ARTHUR.
Sirra, ride strait to Chesson Nunry,
Fetch thence my Lady; the house, I know,
By this time misses their young votary.
Come, knights, let's in!

BILBO.
I will to horse presently, sir.--A plague a my Lady, I shall
miss a good breakfast.  Smug, how chance you cut so plaguely
behind, Smug?

SMUG.
Stand away; I'll founder you else.

BILBO.
Farewell, Smug, thou art in another element.

SMUG.
I will be by and by; I will be Saint George again.

SIR ARTHUR.
Take heed the fellow do not hurt himself.

SIR RAPH.
Did we not last night find two S. Georges here?

FABELL.
Yes, Knights, this martialist was one of them.

CLARE.
Then thus conclude your night of merriment!

[Exeunt Omnes.]


FINIS