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self reading Cato or the Grecian Daughter, instead of men who had breathed the air of the days of Shakspeare.
Massinger was joint author with Decker, of the play from which the scene of the lady and the angel is taken ; but nobody who knows the style of the two men can doubt for a moment to which it belongs. I have, therefore, without hesitation assigned it according to the opinion expressed by Mr. Lamb.
FLIGHT OF WITCHES.
Scene, a Field. Enter HECATE, STADLIN, HOPPO, and other
Witches. FIRESTONE in the back-ground.
Hec. The moon's a gallant; see how brisk she rides !
Ay, is 't not, wenches,
O’t will be precious!
Briefly in the copse,
'T is high time for us then.
You are fortunate still ;
Prepare to flight then;
Hie thee, Hecate;
I'll reach you quickly.
[Exeunt all the Witches except HECATE. Fire. They are all going a birding to-night: they talk of fowls i'th' air that fly by day; I am sure they 'll be a company of foul sluts there to-night: if we have not mortality after 't, I 'll be hanged, for they are able to putrefy 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.
[Aside. Hec. How much hast here? Fire. Nineteen, and all brave plump ones,
besides six lizards and three serpentine eggs.
Hec. Dear and sweet boy! what herbs hast thou?
Fire. Here 's panax too~I thank thee--my pan aches I'm sure, with kneeling down to cut 'em. Hec.
Every blade of 'em,
Hie thee home with 'em :
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 're they indeed. Help, help me; I'm too late else.
Come away, come away,
Hecate, Hecate, come away.
Where's Stadlin ?
make up the count.
[A spirit like a cat descends. (Voice above.] There's one comes down to fetch his dues,
A kiss, a coll, a sip of blood;
Since the air 's so sweet and good ?
Either come, or else refuse.
Malkin my sweet spirit and I.
To ride in the air
When the moon shines fair,
No howls of wolves, no yelps of hounds;
Or cannon's throat our height can reach. [Voi above.] No ring of bells, &c.
Fire. Well, mother, I thank your kindness : you must be gambolling i'th'air, and leave me to walk here, like a fool and a mortal.
THE CHRISTIAN LADY AND THE ANGEL.
An ANGEL, in the guise of a Page, attends on DOROTHEA.
Dor. My book and taper.
Here, most holy mistress.
Ang. No, my dear lady ; I could weary stars,
Be nigh me still then.
To meet such worlds of comfort in thyself,
Ang. Proud am I, that my lady's modest eye
I have offer'd
I am not: I did never
O blessed day!
DOROTHEA is executed ; and the ANGEL visits THEOPHILUS, the
Judge that condemned her.