Enter Firestone. Fire. They are all going a birding to-night. They talk of fowls i' th' air, that fly by day, I'm sure they'll be a company of foul sluts there to-night. If we have not mortality affeared, I'll be hang'd, for they are able to putrify 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 there? Fire. Nineteen, and all brave plump ones; besides six lizards, and three serpentine eggs. Hec. Dear and sweet boy! What herbs hast thou? Hec. Marmarittin, and mandragora, thou would'st say. Fire. Here's pannax too. I thank thee; my pan akes, I am sure, with kneeling down to cut 'em. Hec. And selago, Hedge-hissop too! How near he goes my cuttings! Fire. Every blade of 'em, or I am a moon-calf, mother. Look well to th' 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, bark, mother! They are above the steeple already, flying over your head with a noise of musicians. Hec. They are indeed. Help me! Help me! I'm too late else. SONG, (in the air above). Come away, come away! Heccat, Heccat, come away! (A Spirit descends in the shape of a Cat). (Above). There's one come down to fetch his dues; A kiss, a coll, a sip of blood; Hec. And why thou stay'st so long, I muse, I muse, Oh, art thou come, What news, what news? Spirit. All goes still to our delight, Hec. Fire. Either come, or else Refuse, refuse. Now I am furnish'd for the flight. Hark, hark! The cat sings a brave treble in her own language. Hec. (Ascending with the Spirit). 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 steep towers and turrets, We fly by night, 'mongst troops of spirits. No howls of wolves, no yelp of hounds; Or cannon's roar, our height can reach. (Above). No ring of bells, &c. Fire. Well, mother, I thank you for your kindness. You must be gamboling i' th' air, and leave me here like a fool and a mortal, [Exit." The Incantation scene at the cauldron, is also the original of that in Macbeth, and is in like manner introduced by the Duchess's visiting the Witches' Habitation. "The Witches' Habitation. Enter Duchess, Heccat, Firestone. Hec. What death is't you desire for Almachildes? Hec. Then I've fitted you. Here lie the gifts of both; sudden and subtle; By a blue fire, kindled with dead men's eyes, Duch. In what time, pr'ythee? Hec. Perhaps in a month's progress. Duch. What? A month? Out upon pictures! If they be so tedious, Give me things with some life. Hec. Then seek no farther. Duch. This must be done with speed, dispatched this night, If it may possibly. Hec. I have it for you: Here's that will do't. Stay but perfection's time, And that's not five hours hence. Duch. Can'st thou do this? Hec. Can I? Duch. I mean, so closely. Hec. So closely do you mean too? Duch. So artfully, so cunningly. Hec. Worse and worse; doubts and incredulities, Can you doubt me then, daughter? That can make mountains tremble, miles of woods walk; Of the entomb'd to burst out from their marbles; Nay, draw yon moon to my involv'd designs? Fire. I know as well as can be when my mother's mad, and our great cat angry; for one spits French then, and th' other spits Latin. My power's so firm, it is not to be question'd. Duch. Forgive what's past: and now I know th' offensive ness That vexes art, I'll shun th' occasion ever. Hec. Leave all to me and my five sisters, daughter. It shall be conveyed in at howlet-time. Take you no care. My spirits know their moments; But they call in (I thank 'em), and they lose not by 't. They shall have semina cum sanguine, Their gorge cramm'd full, if they come once to our house: We are no niggard. [Exit Duchess. Fire. They fare but too well when they come hither. They ate up as much t'other night as would have made me a good conscionable pudding. Hec. Give me some lizard's brain: quickly, Firestone! Hec. Give me marmaritin; some bear-breech. When? And fetch three ounces of the red-hair'd girl I kill'd last midnight. Fire, Whereabouts, sweet mother? Hec. Hip; hip or flank. Where is the acopus? A CHARM SONG, (The Witches going about the Cauldron). Black spirits, and white; red spirits, and gray; Firedrake, Puckey, make it lucky; Liard, Robin, you must bob in. Round, around, around, about, about; All ill come running in; all good keep out! 1st Witch. Here's the blood of a bat. |