Aiken. Within a gloomy dimble she doth dwell,
Down in a pit, o'ergrown with brakes and briars,
Close by the ruins of a shaken abbey,
Torn with an earthquake down unto the ground,
'Mongst graves and grots, ncar an old charnel-house,
Where you shall find her sitting in her fourm,
As fearful and melancholic as that
She is about; with caterpillar's kells,
And knotty cob-webs, rounded in with spells.
Thence she steals forth to relief in the fogs,
And rotten mists, upon the fens and bogs,
Down to the drowned lands of Lincolnshire ;
To make ewes cast their lambs, swine eat their farrow,
The housewives tun not work, nor the milk churn !
Writhe children's wrists, and suck their breath in sleep,
Get vials of their blood and where the sea
Casts up his slimy ooze, search for a weed
To open locks with, and to rivet charms,
Planted about her in the wicked feat
Of all her mischiefs, which are manifold.

John. I wonder such a story could be told
Of her dire deeds.

George. I thought a witch's banks
Had inclosed nothing but the merry pranks
Of some old woman.

Scar. Yes, her malice more.
Scath. As it would quickly appear had we the store
Of his collects.

George. Ay, this gud learned man
Can speak her right.

Scar. He knows her shifts and haunts. Alken. And all her wiles and turns. The venom'd plants Wherewith she kills ! where the sad mandrake grows, Whose groans are dreadful ; the dead-numbing night-shade, The stupifying hemlock, adder's tongue, And martagan: the shrieks of luckless owls We hear, and croaking night-crows in the air ! Green-bellied snakes, blue fire-drakes in the sky, And giddy flitter-mice, with leather wings ! The scaly beetles, with their habergeons, That make a humming murmur as they fly! There in the stocks of trees, white faies do dwell, And span-long elves that dance about a pool, With each a little changeling in their arms ! The airy spirits play with falling stars, And mount the sphere of fire to kiss the moon ! While she sits reading by the glow-worm's light, Or rotten wood, o'er which the worm hath crept,

The baneful schedule of her nocent charms,
And binding characters, through which she wounds
Her puppets, the sigilla of her witchcraft.
All this I know, and I will find her for you ;
And show you her sitting in her fourm; I'll lay
My hand upon her, make her throw her skut
Along her back, when she doth start before us.
But you must give her law : and you shall see her
Make twenty leaps and doubles ; cross the paths,
And then squat down beside us.

John. Crafty croan !
I long to be at the sport, and to report it.

Scar. We'll make this hunting of the witch as famous
As any other blast of venery.

Scath. Hang her, foul hag ! she 'll be a stinking chase.
I had rather ha' the hunting of her heir.
George. If we should come to see her cry,

So ho!" once. Alken. That I do promise, or I am no good hag-finder.

[Exeunt.

-ACT III.

SCENE 1.- The Forest.

Enter PUCK-HAIRY.

Puck. The fiend hath much to do, that keeps a school,
Or is the father of a family ;
Or governs but a country academy :
His labours must be great, as are his cares,
To watch all turns, and cast how to prevent them.
This dame of mine here, Maud, grows high in evil,
And thinks she does all, when 't is I, her devil,
That both delude her, and must yet protect her.
She's confident in mischief, and presumes
The changing of her shape will still secure her;
But that may fail, and divers hazards meet
Of other consequence, which I must look to,
Not let her be surprised on the first catch.
I must go dance about the forest now,
And firk it like a goblin, till I find her.
Then will my service come worth acceptation,
When not expected of her ; when the help
Meets the necessity, and both do kiss,
'Tis callid the timing of a duty, this.

[Exit.

SCENE II.-Another Part of the same.

Enter KAROL., and Douce in the dress of EARINE,
Kar. Sure, you are very like her ! I conceived
You had been she, seeing you run afore me :
For such a suit she made her 'gainst this feast,
In all resemblance, or the very same;
I saw her in it ; had she lived to enjoy it,
She had been there an acceptable guest
To Marian, and the gentle Robin Hood,
Who are the crown and ghirland of the wood.

Douce. I cannot tell, my mother gave it me,
And bade me wear it.

Kar. Who, the wise good woman,
Old Maud of Paplewick ?

Enter ÆGLAMOUR.
Douce. Yes ;—this sullen man
I cannot like him. I must take my leave.

[Erit,
Æg. What said she to you?
Kar. Who?

Æg. Earine.
I saw her talking with you, or her ghost;
For she indeed is drowned in old Trent's bottom
Did she not tell who would have pulled her in,
And had her maidenhead upon the place,
The river's brim, the margin of the flood ?
No ground is holy enough (you know my meaning),
Lust is committed in king's palaces,
And yet their majesties not violated !

[Erit,
No words!
Kar. How sad and wild his thoughts are !-gone?

Re-enter ÆGLAMOUR.
Æg. But she, as chaste as was her name, Earine,
Died undeflowered : and now her sweet soul hovers
Here in the air above us, and doth haste
To get up to the moon and Mercury ;
And whisper Venus in her orb; then spring
Up to old Saturn, and come down by Mars,
Consulting Jupiter, and seat herself
Just in the midst with Phoebus, tempering all
The jarring spheres, and giving to the world
Again his first and tuneful planetting.
Oh what an age will here be of new concords !

Delightful harmony! to rock old sages,
Twice infants, in the cradle of speculation,
And throw a silence upon all the creatures !

Kar. A cogitation of the highest rapture!

Re-enter ÆGLAMOUR.
Æg. The loudest seas and most enraged winds
Shall lose their clangor ; tempest shall grow hoarse,
Loud thunder dumb, and every speece of storm
Laid in the lap of listening Nature, hushed
To hear the changed chime of this eighth sphere.
Take tent, and hearken for it, lose it not.

[Exit.

Enter CLARION and LIONEL.

Cla. Oh, here is Karol! Was not that the Sad Shepherd slipped from him?

Lio. Yes, I guess it was.
Who was that left you, Karol ?

Kar. The lost man ;
Whom we shall never see himself again,
Or ours, I fear; he starts away from hand so,
And all the touches or soft strokes of reason
You can apply! no colt is so unbroken,
Or hawk yet half so haggard or unmanned !
He takes all toys that his wild phant’sie proffers,
And flies away with them : he now conceives
That my lost sister, his Earine,
Is lately turned a sphere amid the seven;
And reads a music-lecture to the planets !
And with this thought he's run to call 'em hearers.

Cla. Alas, this is a strained but innocent phant'sie !
I'll follow him, and find him if I can :
Meantime, go you with Lionel, sweet Karol ;
He will acquaint you with an accident,
Which much desires your presence on the place.

Kar. What is it, Lionel, wherein I may serve you ?
Why do you so survey and circumscribe me,
As if you struck one eye into my breast,
And with the other took my whole dimensions ?

Lio. I wish you had a window in your bosom,
Or in your back, I might look thorough you,
And see your in-parts, Karol, liver, heart;
For there the seat of Love is : whence the boy,
The winged archer, hath shot home a shaft
Into my sister's breast, the innocent Amie,
Who now cries out, upon her bed, on Karol,

[Exit.

Sweet-singing Karol, the delicious Karol,
That kissed her like a Cupid ! In your eyes,
She says, his stand is, and between your lips
He runs forth his divisions to her ears,
But will not 'bide there, 'less yourself do bring him.
Go with me, Karol, and bestow a visit
In charity upon the afflicted maid,
Who pineth with the languor of your love.

[As they are going out, enter MAUDLIN (in the shape of

MARIAN) and DOUCE.
Maud. Whither intend you? Amie is recovered,
Feels no such grief as she complained of lately.
This maiden hath been with her from her mother
Maudlin, the cunning woman, who hath sent her
Herbs for her head, and simples of that nature,
Have wrought upon her a miraculous cure ;
Settled her brain to all our wish and wonder.

Lio. So instantly! you know I now but left her,
Possess'd with such a fit almost to a phrensie :
Yourself too feared her, Marian, and did urge
My haste to seek out Karol, and to bring him.

'Maud. I did so: but the skill of that wise woman,
And her great charity of doing good,
Hath by the ready hand of this deft lass,
Her daughter, wrought effects beyond belief,
And to astonishment ; we can but thank,
And praise, and be amazed, while we tell it. [Exit with DOUCE

Lio. 'Tis strange, that any art should so help nature In her extremes.

Kar. Then it appears most real, When the other is deficient.

Enter ROBIN HOOD.
Rob. Wherefore stay you
Discoursing here, and haste not with your succours
To poor afflicted Annie, that so needs them ?

Lio. She is recovered well, your Marian told us
But now here :

Re-enter MAUDLIN as before.

See, she is returned to affirm it Rob. My Marian ! Maud. Robin Hood ! is he here? (Attempts to run out.

Rob. Stay;
What was 't

you
told
my

friend?
[He seizes MAUD. by the girdle, and runs out with her, but

returns immediately with the broken girdle in his hand, followed at a distance by the witch, in her own shape.