Ben Jonson - A Tale of a Tub ACT 4. SCENE 6. lyrics

Lady, D. Turfe, Squire Tub, Hilts, Puppy, Clay. Lad. And, as I told thee, she was intercepted By the Squire, here, my Son, and this bold Ruffian, His Man; who safely would have carried her Unto her Father, and the Chanon Hugh: But for more care of the Security, My Huisher hath her now in his grave charge. D. Tur. Now on my Faith, and holy-dom, we are Beholden to your Worship. She's a Girl, A foolish Girl, and soon may tempted be: But if this day pa** well once o'er her Head, I'll wish her trust to her self. For I have been A very Mother to her, though I say it. Tub. Madam, 'tis late, and Pancridge is i' your way: I think your Ladyship forgets your self. Lad. Your mind runs much on Pancridge. Well, young Squire, The black Oxe never trod yet o' your foot: These idle Phant'sies will forsake you one day. Come, Mrs. Turfe, will you go take a walk Over the Fields to Pancridge, to your Husband? D. Tur. Madam, I had been there an hour ago: But that I waited on my Man Ball Puppy. What, Ball, I say? I think the idle Slouch Be fall'n asleep i' the Barn, he stays so long. Pup. Sattin, i' the name of Velvet-Sattin, Dame! The Devil! O the Devil is in the Barn: Help, help, a Legion —— Spirit-Legion Is in the Barn! in every Straw a Devil. Tur. Why do'st thou bawl so, Puppy? Speak, what ails thee? Pup. My Name's Ball Puppy, I ha' seen the Devil Among the Straw: O for a Cross! a Collop Of Friar Bacon, or a conjuring stick Of Doctor Faustus! Spirits are in the Barn. Tub. How! Spirits in the Barn? Basket, go see. Hil. Sir, an' you were my Master ten times over, And Squire to boot; I know, and you shall pardon me: Send me 'mong Devils? I zee you love me not: Hell be at their Game: I'll not trouble them. Tub. Go see; I warrant thee there's no such matter. Hil. An' they were Giants, 'twere another matter. But Devils! No, if I be torn in pieces, What is your Warrant worth? I'll see the Fiend Set fire o' the Barn, ere I come there. D. Tur. Now all Zaints bless us, and if he be there, He is an ugly Spright, I warrant. Pup. As ever Held Flesh-hook, Dame, or handled Fire-fork rather: They have put me in a sweet pickle, Dame: But that my Lady Valentine smells of Musk, I should be asham'd to press into this presence. Lad. Basket, I pray thee see what is the Miracle! Tub. Come, go with me: I'll lead. Why stand'st thou, Man? Hil. co*ks precious, Master, you are not mad indeed? You will not go to Hell before your time? Tub. Why art thou thus afraid? Hil. No, not afraid: But by your leave, I'll come no near the Barn. Tur. Puppy! wilt thou go with me? Pup. How? go with you? Whither, into the Barn? To whom, the Devil? Or to do what there? to be torn 'mongst 'um? Stay for my Master, the High Constable, Or In-and-In, the Head-borough; let them go Into the Barn with Warrant; seize the Fiend; And set him in the Stocks for his ill rule: 'Tis not for me that am but Flesh and Blood, To meddle with 'un. Vor I cannot, nor I wu' not. Lad. I pray thee, Tripoly, look, what is the matter? Tub. That shall I, Madam. Hil. Heaven protect my Master. I tremble every joynt till he be back. Pup. Now, now, even now they are tearing him in pieces, Now are they tossing of his Legs and Arms, Like Loggets at a Pear-tree: I'll to the hole, Peep in, and look whether he lives or dies. Hil. I would not be i' my Masters Coat for Thousands. Pup. Then pluck it off, and turn thy self away. O the Devil! the Devil! the Devil! Hil. Where, Man? where? D. Tur. Alas, that ever we were born. So near too? Pup. The Squire hath him in his hand, and leads him Out by the Collar. D. Tur. O, this is John Clay. Lad. John Clay at Pancrace, is there to be married. Tub. This was the Spirit revell'd i' the Barn. Pup. The Devil he was: was this he was crawling Among the Wheat-straw? Had it been the Barley, I should ha'tane him for the Devil in drink; The Spirit of the Bride-Ale: But, poor John, Tame John of Clay, that sticks about the Bung-hole — Hil. If this be all your Devil, I would take In hand to conjure him: But hell take me, If ere I come in a right Devil's walk, If I can keep me out on't. Tub. Well meant, Hilts. Lad. But how came Clay thus hid here i' the Straw, When news was brought, to you all, he was at Pancridge; And you believ'd it? D. Tur. Justice Bramble's Man Told me so, Madam: And by that same token, And other things, he had away my Daughter, And two seal'd Bags of Money. Lad. Where's the Squire: Is he gone hence? Tub. H' was here, Madam, but now. Clay. Is the Hue and Cry past by? Pup. I, I, John Clay. Clay. And am I out of danger to be hang'd? Pup. Hang'd, John? yes, sure; unless, as with the Proverb, You mean to make the choice of your own Gallows. Cla. Nay, then all's well, hearing your news, Ball Puppy, You ha' brought from Paddington, I e'en stole home here, And thought to hide me in the Barn ere since. Pup. O wonderful! and news was brought us here, You were at Pancridge, ready to be married. Cla. No, faith, I ne'er was further than the Barn. D. Tur. Haste, Puppy. Call forth Mistris Dido Wispe, My Ladies Gentlewoman, to her Lady; And call your self forth, and a Couple of Maids, To wait upon me: we are all undone! My Lady is undone! her fine young Son, The Squire, is got away. Lad. Haste, haste, good Valentine. D. Tur. And you, John Clay; you are undone too All! My Husband is undone, by a true Key, But a false Token: And my self's undone, By parting with my Daughter, who'll be married To some Body, that she should not, if we haste not.