There's many
And a French court'sy made to't: Alas, sir,
Think of the world, how we shall live, grow serious;
We have been married a whole fortnight now.

a disease kiss'd in a year by't,

Lean. How? a whole fortnight! why, is that so long?
Bian. "Tis time to leave off dalliance; 'tis a doctrine
Of your own teaching, if you be remember'd,
And I was bound to obey it.

Moth. (Aside.) Here's one fits him ;

This was well catch'd i' faith, son, like a fellow
That rids another country of a plague,

And brings it home with him to his own house.

[A Messenger from the Duke knocks within.

Who knocks?
Lean. Who's there now? Withdraw

you,

Biancha;

Thou art a gem no stranger's eye must see,
Howe'er thou'rt pleas'd now to look dull on me.

[Exit Biancha."

The Witch of Middleton is his most remarkand able performance; both on its own account, from the use that Shakespear has made of some of the characters and speeches in his Macbeth. Though the employment which Middleton has given to Hecate and the rest, in thwarting the purposes and perplexing the business of familiar and domestic life, is not so grand or appalling as the more stupendous agency which Shakespear has assigned them, yet it is not easy to deny the merit of the first invention to Middleton, who has embodied the existing superstitions of the time, respecting that anomalous class of beings, with a high spirit of poetry, of the most grotesque and

fanciful kind. The songs and incantations made use of are very nearly the same. The other parts of this play are not so good; and the solution of the principal difficulty, by Antonio's falling down a trap-door, most lame and impotent. As a specimen of the similarity of the preternatural machinery, I shall here give one entire scene.

"The Witches' Habitation.

Enter Heccat, Stadlin, Hoppo, and other Witches.

Hec. The moon's a gallant: see how brisk she rides.
Stad. Here's a rich evening, Heccat.

Hec. Aye, is't not, wenches,

To take a journey of five thousand miles?

Hop. Our's will be more to-night.

Hec. Oh, 'twill be precious. Heard you the owl yet?
Stad. Briefly, in the copse,

As we came thro' now.

Hec. 'Tis high time for us then.

Stad. There was a bat hung at my lips three times

As we came thro' the woods, and drank her fill:
Old Puckle saw her.

Hec. You are fortunate still,

The very scritch-owl lights upon your shoulder,
And woos you like a pidgeon. Are you furnish'd?
Have you your ointments?

Stad. All.

Hec. Prepare to flight then.

I'll overtake you swiftly.
Stad. Hye then, Heccat!
We shall be up betimes.

Hec. I'll reach you quickly.

[They ascend.

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?
Fire. I have some mar-martin, and man-dragon.

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!
Were they all cropt by moon-light?

Fire. Every blade of 'em, or I am a moon-calf, mother.
Hec. Hie thee home with 'em.

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, hark, mother! They are above the steeple already, flying over your head with a noise of musicians.

Hec. They are indeed.

else.

Help me! Help me! I'm too late

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,
Since th' air's so sweet and good?

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 seas our mistress' fountains,

Over steep towers and turrets,

We fly by night, 'mongst troops of spirits.
No ring of bells to our ears sounds,

No howls of wolves, no yelp of hounds;
No, not the noise of water's breach,

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 i̇' 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?
Duch. A sudden and a subtle.

Hec. Then I've fitted you.

Here lie the gifts of both; sudden and subtle;
His picture made in wax, and gently molten

By a blue fire, kindled with dead men's eyes,
Will waste him by degrees.

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.