to find the depth of evil,
Seeking to be a God, becomes a Devil.

COREB.
Come, Fabell, hast thou done?

FABELL.
Yes, yes; come hither.

COREB.
Fabell, I cannot.

FABELL.
Cannot?—What ails your hollownes?

COREB.
Good Fabell, help me.

FABELL.
Alas, where lies your grief? Some Aqua-vitae!
The Devil's very sick, I fear he'll die,
For he looks very ill.

COREB.
Darst thou deride the minister of darkness?
In Lucifer's dread name Coreb conjures thee
To set him free.

FABELL.
I will not for the mines of all the earth,
Unless thou give me liberty to see
Seven years more, before thou seize on me.

COREB.
Fabell, I give it thee.

FABELL.
Swear, damned fiend.

COREB.
Unbind me, and by hell I will not touch thee,
Till seven years from this hour be full expired.

FABELL.
Enough, come out.

COREB.
A vengeance take thy art!
Live and convert all piety to evil:
Never did man thus over-reach the Devil.
No time on earth like Phaetontique flames
Can have perpetual being. I'll return
To my infernall mansion; but be sure,
Thy seven years done, no trick shall make me tarry,
But, Coreb, thou to hell shalt Fabell carry.

[Exit.]

FABELL.
Then thus betwixt us two this variance ends,
Thou to thy fellow Fiends, I to my friends.

[Exit.]

ACT I.

SCENE I. The George Inn, Waltham.

[Enter Sir Arthur Clare, Dorcas, his Lady, Milliscent, his daughter, young Harry Clare; the men booted, the gentlewomen in cloaks and safeguards. Blague, the merry host of the George, comes in with them.]

HOST. Welcome, good knight, to the George at Waltham, my free-hold, my tenements, goods and chattels. Madam, here's a room is the very Homer and Iliad of a lodging, it hath none of the four elements in it; I built it out of the Center, and I drink ne'er the less sack. Welcome, my little waste of maiden-heads! What? I serve the good Duke of Norfolk.

CLARE.
God a mercy, my good host Blague:
Thou hast a good seat here.

HOST. Tis correspondent or so: there's not a Tartarian nor a Carrier shall breath upon your geldings; they have villainous rank feet, the rogues, and they shall not sweat in my linen. Knights and Lords too have been drunk in my house, I thank the destinies.

HARRY. Pre' thee, good sinful Innkeeper, will that corruption, thine Ostler, look well to my gelding. Hay, a pox a these rushes!

HOST. You Saint Dennis, your gelding shall walk without doors, and cool his feet for his masters sake. By the body of S. George, I have an excellent intellect to go steal some venison: now, when wast thou in the forest?

HARRY. Away, you stale mess of white-broth! Come hither, sister, let me help you.

CLARE. Mine Host, is not Sir Richard Mounchensey come yet, according to our appointment, when we last dined here?

HOST. The knight's not yet apparent.—Marry, here's a forerunner that summons a parle, and saith, he'll be here top and top- gallant presently.

CLARE. Tis well, good mine host; go down, and see breakfast be provided.

HOST. Knight, thy breath hath the force of a woman, it takes me down; I am for the baser element of the kitchen: I retire like a valiant soldier, face point blank to the foe-man, or, like a Courtier, that must not shew the Prince his posteriors; vanish to know my canuasadoes, and my interrogatories, for I serve the good Duke of Norfolk.

[Exit.]

CLARE.
How doth my Lady? are you not weary, Madam?
Come hither, I must talk in private with you;
My daughter Milliscent must not over-hear.

MILLISCENT.
Aye, whispring; pray God it tend my good!
Strange fear assails my heart, usurps my blood.

CLARE.
You know our meeting with the knight Mounchensey
Is to assure our daughter to his heir.

DORCAS.
Tis, without question.

CLARE.
Two tedious winters have past o'er, since first
These couple lov'd each other, and in passion
Glued first their naked hands with youthful moisture—
Just so long, on my knowledge.

DORCAS.
And what of this?

CLARE.
This morning should my daughter lose her name,
And to Mounchenseys house convey our arms,
Quartered within his scutcheon; th' affiance, made
Twist him and her, this morning should be sealed.

DORCAS.
I know it should.

CLARE.
But there are crosses, wife; here's one in Waltham,
Another at the Abbey, and the third
At Cheston; and tis ominous to pass
Any of these without a pater-noster.
Crosses of love still thwart this marriage,
Whilst that we two, like spirits, walk in night
About those stony and hard hearted plots.

MILLISCENT.
O God, what means my father?

CLARE.
For look you, wife, the riotous old knight
Hath o'rerun his annual revenue
In keeping jolly Christmas all the year:
The nostrils of his chimney are still stuft
With smoke, more chargeable then Cane-tobacco;
His hawks devour his fattest dogs, whilst simple,
His leanest curs eat him hounds carrion.
Besides, I heard of late, his younger brother,
A Turkey merchant, hath sure suck'de the knight
By means of some great losses on the sea,
That, you conceive me, before God all is naught,
His seat is weak: thus, each thing rightly scanned,
You'll se a flight, wife, shortly of his land.

MILLISCENT.
Treason to my hearts truest sovereign:
How soon is love smothered in foggy gain!

DORCAS.
But how shall we prevent this dangerous match?

CLARE.
I have a plot, a trick, and this is it-
Under this colour I'll break off the match:
I'll tell the knight that now my mind is changd
For marrying of my daughter, for I intend
To send her unto Cheston Nunry.

MILLISCENT.
O me accurst!

CLARE.
There to become a most religious Nun.

MILLISCENT.
I'll first be buried quick.

CLARE.
To spend her beauty in most private prayers.

MILLISCENT.
I'll sooner be a sinner in forsaking
Mother and father.

CLARE.
How dost like my plot?

DORCAS.
Exceeding well; but is it your intent
She shall continue there?

CLARE.
Continue there? Ha, ha, that were a jest!
You know a virgin may continue there
A twelve month and a day only on trial.
There shall my daughter sojourn some three months,
And in mean time I'll compass a fair match
Twixt youthful Jerningham, the lusty heir
Of Sir Raph Jerningham, dwelling in the forest-
I think they'll both come hither with Mounchensey.

DORCAS.
Your care argues the love you bear our child;
I will subscribe to any thing you'll have me.

[Exeunt.]