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THE DEVIL TO PAY:

OR,

THE WIVES METAMORPHOSED;

A BALLAD FARCE,

BY CHARLES COFFEY, Esq.

REMARKS.

THIS well-known little piece had as many hands concerned in its fabrication, as ever clubbed together in s business of so slight importance. It was originally written in three acts by a performer of the name of Jevon, af terwards altered considerably by Messrs. Coffey and Mottley, and again cut into a single act by Theophilus Cibber. From all the above copies, it was reproduced in its present state in 1731, and published with Mr. Coffey's name as the author. The celebrated Mrs. Clive is said to owe the rise of her great reputation to her success in the part of Nell; and Mr. Harper, the original in Jobson, considerably advanced in rank and salary by his excellent per formance of that character.

In spite of the impossible absurdity whence all the characters derive their origin, this petite piece is tolerated and even seen with pleasure, from the easy humour of the dialogue, and the natural behaviour of the characters

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SCENE I-JOBSON's House.

Enter JOBSON and NELL.

Nell. Pr'ythee, good Jobson, stay with me tonight, and for once make merry at home.

Job. Peace, peace, you jade, and go spin: for, f I lack any thread for my stitching, I will punish you by virtue of my sovereign authority.

Nell. Did ever one hear such stuff? But I pray you now, Jobson, don't go to the alehouse tonight.

Job. Well, I'll humour you for once; but don't grow saucy upon't; for I'm invited by Sir John Loverule's butler, and am to be princely drunk with punch at the hall-place: we shall have a bowl large enough to swim în.

Nell. Ay, marry, no doubt of that, whilst you Nell. But they say, husband, the new lady will take your swing at the alehouse, spend your sub-not suffer a stranger to enter her doors; she stance, get as drunk as a beast, and then come home like a sot, and use one like a dog.

Job. Nounz' do you prate? Why, how now, brazen-face, you speak ill of the government? Don't you know, hussy, that I am king in my own hous, and that this is treason against my majesty ?

grudges even a draught of small beer to her own servants; and several of the tenants have come home with broken heads from her ladyship's own hands, only for smelling strong beer in the house.

Job. A plague on her for a fanatical jade! She has almost distracted the good knight. But she's now abroad, feasting with her relations, and will

scarce come home to-night; and we are to have much drink, a fiddle, and merry gambols.

Nell. O, dear husband, let me go with you; we'll be as merry as the night 's long.

Job. Why how now, you bold baggage! would you be carried to a company of smooth-faced, eating, drinking, lazy serving-men? No, no, you jade, I'll not be a cuckold.

Nell. I'm sure they would make me welcome: you promised I should see the house; and the family has not been here before, since you married and brought me home.

Job. Why, thou most audacious strumpet, dar'st thou dispute with me, thy lord and master' Get in and spin, or else my strap shall wind about thy ribs most confoundedly.

AIR.

He that has the best wife,

She's the plague of his life,

But for her, who will scold and will quarrel,
Let him cut her off short

Of her meat and her sport,

And ten times a day hoop her barrel, brave boys,
And ten times a day hoop her barrel.

Nell. Well, we poor women must always be slaves, and never have any joy; but you men run and ramble at your pleasure.

Job. Why, you most pestilent baggage, will you be hooped? Be gone. Nell. I must obey.

[Going. Job. Stay; now I think on't, here's sixpence for you; get ale and apples, stretch and puff thyself up with lamb's wool, rejoice and revel by thyself, be drunk and wallow in thy own sty, like a grumbling sow as thou art.

He that has the best wife,

[Sings.
She's the plague of his life, &c. [Exeunt.

SCENE II-SIR JOHN LOVERULE'S House.
Enter BUTLER, COOK, FOOTMAN, COACHMAN,
LUCY, LETTICE, &c.

But. I would the blind fiddler and our dancing neighbours were here, that we might rejoice a little, while our termagant lady is abroad: I have made a most sovereign bowl of punch.

Lucy. We had need rejoice sometimes, for our
devilish new lady will never suffer it in her
ing.

Enter Blind FIDDLER, JOESON, and NEIGHBOURS.
But. Welcome, welcome all; this is our wish.
-Honest old acquaintance, goodman Jobson,

how dost thou ?

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within my doors? Is hell broke loose? What Lady L. O heaven and earth! what's here troops of fiends are here? Sirrah, you impudent rascal, speak!

Sir J. For shame, my dear.-As this is a time of mirth and jollity, it has always been the custom of my house to give my servants liberty in this season, and to treat my country neighbours, that with innocent sports they may divert themselves. Lady L. I say, meddle with your own affairs, in an oar. I will govern my own house without your putting Shall I ask your leave to correct my

own servants?

Sir J. I thought, Madam, this had been my house, and these my tenants and servants.

hear-abused and snubbed before people? Do you call
Lady L. Did I bring a fortune, to be thus
my authority in question, ungrateful man? Look
to your dogs and horses abroad, but it will be my
province to govern here; nor will I be controlled
by e'era hunting, hawking knight in Christendom.
AIR. SIR JOHN LOVERULE.
Ye gods, you gave to me a wife,
Out of your grace and favour,
To be the comfort of my life,

Job. By my troth, I am always sharp-set towards punch, and am now come with a firm resolution, though but a poor cobler, to be as richly drunk as a lord: I am a true English heart, and took upon drunkenness as the best part of the liberty of the subject.

But. Come, Jobson, we'll bring out our bowl of punch in solemn procession; and then for a song to crown our happiness.

[Exeunt.

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And I was glad to have her;
But if your providence divine
For greater bliss design her,
Tobey your wills at any time,
I'm ready to resign her.

This is to be married to a continual tempest :
strife and noise, canting and hypocrisy, are eter-
nally afloat.-'Tis impossible to bear it long.

Lady L. Ye filthy scoundrels, and odious jades I'll teach you to junket it thus, and steal my provisions; I shall be devoured, at this rate.

But. I thought, Madam, we might be merry once upon a holiday.

Lady L. Holiday, you popish cur! Is one

day more holy than another? And if it be, you'll be sure to get drunk upon it, you rogue. [Beats him] You minx, you impudent flirt, are you jigging it after an abominable fiddle?

[Lugs Lucy by the ears. Lucy. O lud! she has pulled off both my ears. Sir J. Pray, Madam, consider your sex and quality I blush for your behaviour.

Lady L. Consider your incapacity: you shall not instruct me. Who are you, thus muffled, you buzzard? [She beats them off; JOBSON steals by. Job. I am an honest, plain, psalm-singing cobbler, Madam: if your ladyship would but go to church, you might hear me above all the rest there. Lady L. I'll try thy voice here first, villain. [Strikes him. Job. Nounz! what a plague, what a devil ails you?

Lady L. O profane wretch! wicked varlet! Sir J. For shame! your behaviour is monstrous!

Lady L. Was ever poor lady so miserable in a brutish husband as I am? I that am so pious and so religious a woman!

Job. [Sings.] He that has the best wife,

She's the plague of his life;

But for her that will scold and will quarrel.

[Exit.

Lady L. O rogue! scoundrel! villain! Sir J. Remember modesty. Lady L. I'll rout you all with a vengeanceI'll spoil your squeaking treble.

[Beats the fiddle about the blind Man's head. Fid. O murder! murder!

Sir J. Here, poor fellow, take your staff and be gone; there's money to buy you two such; that's your way. [Exit FIDDLER. Lady L. Methinks you are very liberal, Sir. Must my estate maintain you in your profuseness? Sir J. Go up to your closet, pray, and compose your mind.

Lady L. O wicked man! to bid me pray. Sir J. A man can't be completely cursed, I see, without marriage: but since there is such a thing as separate maintenance, she shall to-morrow enjoy the benefit of it. [Knocking at the door.] Here, where are my servants? must they be frighted from me ?-Within there-see who

knocks.

Lady L. Within there-Where are my sluts? ye drabs, ye queans-Lights there.

Re-enter BUTLER.

But. Sir, it is a doctor that lives ten miles off; he practises physic, and is an astrologer; your worship knows him very well; he is a cunning man, makes almanacks, and can help people to their goods again.

Enter DocTOR.

Doc. Sir, I humbly beg your honour's pardon for this unseasonable intrusion: but I am benighted, and 'tis so dark that I can't possibly find my way home; and knowing your worship's hospitality, desire the favour to be harboured under your roof to-night.

Lady L. Out of my house, you lewd conjurer, you magician.

Doc. Here's a turn? Here's a change!-Well, If I have any art, ye shall smart for this. [Aside. Sir J. You see, friend, I am not master of my own house; therefore, to avoid any uneasiness,

go down the lane about a quarter of a mile, and you'll see a cobler's cottage; stay there a little, and I'll send my servant to conduct you to a tenant's house, where you'll be well entertained.

Doc. I thank you, Sir; I'm your most humble servant-But as for your lady there, she shall this night feel my resentiment. [Erit.

Sir J. Come, Madam, you and I must have some conference together.

Lady L. Yes; I will have a conference and a reformation too in this house, or I'll turn it upside down-I will. [Exeunt.

SCENE III-JOBSON'S House.

Enter NELL and the DOCTOR. Nell. Pray, Sir, mend your draught, if you please; you are very welcome, Sir.

Doc. Thank you heartily, good woman; and to requite your civility, I'll tell you your fortune. Nell. O, pray do, Sir; I never had my fortune told me in my life.

Doc. Let me behold the lines of your face. Nell. I am afraid, Sir, 'tis none of the cleanest ; I have been about dirty work all this day.

Doc. Come, come, 'tis a good face, be not ashamed of it; you shall show it in greater places suddenly.

Nell. O dear, Sir, I shall be mightily ashamed: I want dacity when I come before great folks. Doc. You must be confident, and fear nothing; there is much happiness attends you.

Nell. Oh me! this is a rare man; heaven be thanked. [Aside. Doc. To-morrow, before the sun rise, you shall be the happiest woman in this country.

Nell. How, by to-morrow? alack-a-day, Sir, how can that be?

Doc. No more shall you be troubled with a surly husband, that rails at, and straps you.

Nell. Lud! how came he to know that? he must be a conjurer! [Aside.] Indeed my husband is somewhat rugged, and in his cups will beat me, but it is not much: he's an honest pains taking man, and I let him have his way. Pray, Sir, take t'other cup of ale.

Doc. 1 thank you-Believe me, to-morrow you shall be the richest woman i'th' hundred, and ride in your own coach.

Nell. O father! you jeer me.

Doc. By my art, I do not. But mark my words, be confident, and bear all out, or worse will follow. -O ge

Nell. Never fear, Sir, I warrant youmini! a coach.

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Job. A coach! a cart, a wheel-barrow, you jade.
By the mass, she 's drunk, beastly drunk, most
confoundedly drunk-Get to bed, you strumpet.
[Beats her.
Nell. O mercy on us! is this a taste of my
good fortune? Oh, you are the devil of a conjurer,
sure enough.
[Exit.
Doc. You had better not have touched her, you
surly rogue.

Job. Out of my house you villain.
Doc. Farewell, you paltry slave.

Joh. Get out you rogue.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV-An open Country.

Enter DOCTOR.

AIR.

Doc. My little spirits, now appear,
Nadir and Abishog, draw near;
The time is short, make no delay;
Then quickly haste, and come away:
Nor moon, nor stars afford their light,
But all is wrapped in gloomy night:
Both men and beasts to rest incline,
And all things favour my design.
Spir. [Within.] Say, master, what is to be done?
Doc. My strict commands be sure attend,

For, ere this night shall have an end,
You must this cobbler's wife transform,
And to the knight's the like perform:
With all your most specific charms,
Convey each wife to diff'rent arms;
Let the delusion be so strong,

That none may know the right from wrong. Spir. All this we will with care perform

In thunder, lightning, and in storm.
[Thunder. Fxit DOCTOR.

SCENE V.-JOBSON's House.-The bed in view.
JOBSON discovered at work.

servants? Somebody come and hamstring this rogue. [Knocks. Job. Why, how now, you brazen quean! you must get drunk with the conjurer, must you? I'll give you money another time to spend in lamb's wool, you saucy jade, shall I ?

Lady L. Monstrous! I can find no bell to ring. Where are my servants? they shall toss him in a blanket.

Job. Ay, the jade 's asleep still the conjurer told her she should keep her coach, and she is dreaming of her equipage. [Sings.

I will come in, in spite she said,

Of all such churls as thee;

Thou art the cause of all our pain,
Our grief and misery.

Thou first broke the commandment,

In honour of thy wife;

When Adam heard her say these words,
He ran away for life.

Lady L. Why, husband! Sir John! will you suffer me to be thus insulted?

Job. Husband! Sir John! what a plague, has she knighted me? and my name 's Zekel too; a good jest, faith.

Lady L. Ha! he's gone, he's not in the bed. Heaven! where am I? Foh! what loathsome smells are here? Canvass sheets, and a filthy ragged curtain; a beastly rug, and a flock bed. Am I awake, or is it all a dream? what rogue is that! Sirrah! where am I? who brought me hither? what rascal are you?

Job. This is amazing-I never heard such words from her before? if I take my strap to you, better manners, you saucy drab. I'll make you know your husband, I'll teach you

Lady L. Oh, astonishing impudence! you my Job. What devil has been abroad to-night? I husband, Sirrah? I'll have you hanged, you rogue; never heard such claps of thunder in my life; I'm a lady. Let me know who has given me a thought my little hovel would have flown away; dirty varlet? sleeping draught, and conveyed me hither, you but now all is clear again, and a fine star-light morning it is. I'll settle myself to work. They say, winter's thunder is summer's wonder.

AIR.

Of all the trades from east to west,
The cobler's, past contending,

Is like in time to prove the best,
Which every day is mending.

How great his praise, who can amend
The soles of all his neighbours;
Nor is unmindful of his end,

But to his last still labours.

Lady L. [In bed.] Hey-day! what impudent hallad-singing rogue is that, who dares wake me out of my sleep? I'll have you flayed, you rascal. Job. What a plague, does she talk in her sleep? ar is she drunk still?

AIR.

In Bath a wanton wife did dwell,
As Chaucer he did write,
Who wantonly did spend her time
In many a fond delight.
All on a time so sick she was,
And she at length did die;
And then her soul at Paradise
Did knock most mightily.

Lady L. Why, villain, rascal, screech-owl, who makest a worse noise than a dog hung in the pales, or a hog in a high wind,-where are all my

you had a sleeping draught, with a plague to ye. Job. A sleeping draught! yes, you drunken jade, What, has not your lamb's wool done working yet? Lady L. Where am I? where has my villanous husband put me? Lucy! Lettice! where are my queans?

Job. Ha, ha, ha! what ¡does she call her maids too? the conjurer has made her mad as well as drunk.

Lady L. He talks of conjurers; sure I am bewitched! ha! what clothes are here? a linseywoolsey gown, a calico hood, a red baize petticoat; I am removed from my own house by witchcraft. What must I do? What will become of me? [Horns wind without.

Job. Hark! the hunters and the merry horns are abroad. Why, Nell, you lazy jade, 'tis break of day; to work, to work; come, and spin, you drab, or I'll tan your hide for you. What a plague, must 1 be at work two hours before you in the morning?

Lady L. Why, Sirrah, thou impudent villain, dost thou not know me, you rogue'

Job. Know you, yes I know you well enough, and I'll make you know me before

with you.

have done

Lady L. I am Sir John Loverule's 'ady, how came I here?

Job. Sir John Loverule's lady! no Nell, not

quite so bad neither; she plagues every one that comes near her-the whole country curses her.

Lady L. Nay, then I'll hold no longer-you rogue, you insolent villain, I'll teach you better

manners.

[Flings the bedstaff and other things at him. Job. This is more than ever I saw by her. I never had an ill word from her before. Come, strap, I'll try your mettle; I'll sober you, I warrant you, quean.

Lucy. Oh, no, I'm overjoyed: she's in the kindest humour!-Go to the bed, and speak to her-Now is your time. [Apart to LETTICE Let. Now's my time! what, to have another tooth beat out? [Apart.] Madam!

Nell. What dost say, my dear?-O father What would she have?

Let. What work will your ladyship please to have done to-day?

Nell. Work, child! 'tis holiday; no work to

day.

[He straps her; she flies at him. | Lady L. I'll pull your throat out; I'll tear out Let. Oh, mercy! Am I or thee awake? or do your eyes; I am a lady, Sirrah. O murder! we both dream?-Here's a blessed change? murder! Sir John Loverule will hang you for this. Murder! murder!

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Job. I'll into my stall; 'tis broad day now. [Works and sings.] Hey-day, I think the jade's brain is turned. What, have you forgot to spin, hussy?

family.

[Apart to Lucy. Lucy. If it continues, we shall be a happy [Apart to LETTICE. Let. Your ladyship's chocolate is ready. Nell. Mercy on me! what's that? Some garment, I suppose. [Aside.] Put it on then, sweetheart.

Let. Put it on, Madam? I have taken it off; 'tis ready to drink.

Nell. I mean, put it by; I don't care for drinking now.

Enter COOK.

know her scurvy ladyship's commands about dinCook. Now I go, like a bear to the stake, to ner. How many rascally names must I be called? [Aside.

Lady L. But I have not forgot to run. I'll e'en try my feet. I shall find somebody in the Let. Oh, John Cook! you'll be out of your town, sure, that will succour me. [She runs out. Job. What! does she run for it ?—I'll after her. wits to find my lady in so sweet a temper. [He runs out. SCENE VI-SIR JOHN LOVERULE'S House. NELL discovered in Bed.

Nell. What pleasant dreams I have had tonight! Methought I was in Paradise, upon a bed of violets and roses, and the sweetest husband by my side!Ha, bless me! where am I now? What sweets are these? No garden in the spring can equal them.-Am I on a bed ?-The sheets are sarcenet, sure; no linen ever was so fine.What a gay silken robe have I got-O heaven! I dream!-Yet if this be a dream, I would not wish to wake again. Sure I died last night and went to heaven, and this is it.

Enter LUCY.

Lucy. Now, must I awake an alarum that will not lie still again till midnight at soonest; the first greeting I suppose will be jade, or slut. [Aside.] -Madam! madam!

Nell. O gemini! who's this? What dost say, sweetheart?

Lucy. Sweetheart! O lud, sweetheart! The best names I have had these three months from her, have been slut or jade. [Aside.]—What gown and ruffles will your ladyship wear to-day?

Nell. What does she mean? Ladyship! gown and ruffles!-Sure I am awake!-Oh! I remember the cunning man, now.

Lucy. Did your ladyship speak?

Nell. Ay, child; I'll wear the same I did

iniracle!

yes

terday. Lucy. Mercy upon me!-Child!-Here's a [Aside. Enter LETTICE. Let. Is my lady awake?-Have you had her shoe or her slipper at your head yet? [Apart to Lucy.

[Apart to Cook

Cook. What a devil, are they all mad?

[Apart to LETTICE. Lucy. Madam, here's the cook come about dinner.

Nell. Oh! there's a fine cook! He looks like one of your gentlefolks. [Aside.]—Indeed, honest man, I'm very hungry now, pray get me a rasher upon the coals, a piece of milk cheese, and some white bread.

Cook. Hey! what's to do here? my head turns round. Honest man! I looked for rogue and rascal, at least. She's strangely changed in her diet, as well as her humour. [Aside.]—I'm afraid, Madam, cheese and bacon will sit very heavy on your ladyship's stomach in a morning. If you please, Madam, I'll toss you up a white fricassee of chickens, in a trice, Madam; or what does your ladyship think of a veal sweetbread? Nell. Even what you will, good cook. Cook. Good cook! good cook! Ah! 'tis a sweet lady. [Apart.

Enter BUTLER.

Oh! kiss me, chip, I am out of my wits-We have the kindest, sweetest lady.

[Apart to BUTLER. But. You shamming rogue, I think you are out of your wits, all of ye; the maids look mer rily too. [Apart to Cook Lucy. Here's the butler, Madam, to know your ladyship's orders.

small beer when my breakfast comes in. Nell. Oh pray, Mr. Butler, let me have some

But. Mr. Butler! Mr. Butler! I shall be turned into stone with amazement. [Aside.] Would not your ladyship rather have a glass of Frontiniac, or Montepulchiano.

Nell. O dear! what hard names are there;

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