 | The Blind-Beggar of Bednal-Green |  |
ACT V.
Sound Trumpets. Enter King Harry the 6th. Gloster, Cardinal, Lady Ellanor, and Lords attending.King.
Vncle of Gloster, and Lord Cardinal,
Since all our Court has put on smooth-fac'd mirth,
Only to grace your Honor'd Mariage,
Embrace each other in the arms of Love,
And as you joyn your hands, so let your hearts
Knit your affections in a friendly league.
Gloster speaks first, yet speaks he not in fear,
As begging Bewford's friendship, but in love
Both to his King, and to fair Englands good;
Yet ere I set my hand to this new League,
Bewford, if any undisgested wrong
Lyes in thy swelling bosome, freely speak't,
And Gloster will as freely answer it:
But if thy Conscience be as clear from soyl
Of hatefull treachery, as Glosters is,
Give me thy hand, and with thy hand thy heart,
Which Gloster will as charily regard,
As the best blood that's chamber'd in his breast.
Card.
On that Condition Bewford gives his hand,
And from his heart wipes off all forepass'd wrongs.
King.
Witness this League Lords, and now Ant Ellanor
Heaven give you joy, both of our Uncles love,
And of this new born peace. Now Uncle Gloster I desire to know
The cause of Momford's treason, and his fall,
Which he hath lately undergone in France?
Glost.
His fall my Liege was great, but his offence
Little or none; for by Velleires his means,
Who as a Prisoner now attends your Grace,
I have found out since Momford's banishment,
That all his accusations were false.
King.
Yet Guynes in which Lord Momford had a charge,
Was yeelded up by Treason.
Glost.
True my Liege,
I have known Momford in my Brothers days,
Put in great trust; yet never heard
That he was found disloyal in his charge.
King.
And Uncle Gloster, we have always had
His honor'd age in reverent esteem.
We hear he had a Daughter, where lives she?
Glost.
Thrust out of all by one old Westford's means.
King.
Methinks 'tis hard the Child should not enjoy
The riches that the painfull Father left.
Good Uncle Gloster let it be your care,
To see old Momferd's Daughter have her right.
Enter old Pl.
But what grave man is that?
Glost.
Sir Walter Playnsey,
King.
Sir Walter Playnsey, by our Uncles leave
I pray stand up, methinks those reverent hairs
Deserve a softer pillar than the ground;
I pray stand up, and boldly speak your mind.
Old Playn.
My Soveraign Liege, your Subject comes in love
To let you know, that divers Gentlemen,
On what presumption they themselves best know,
Have underta'en to prove in open field,
That the Lord Momford who late fell in France,
Was treacherously accus'd.
Glost.
Why? 'twas your Son
That first produc'd his accusation.
Old Playn.
Your Grace will give me leave to clear my self,
For I was neither privy to that fact,
Nor speak in his excuse; he is my Son,
But if in malice he hath wrong'd Lord Momford,
Let him have Justice, and the Law take place.
King.
Are they resolv'd to try it out in fight?
Old Playn.
They are my Liege, and only wait your pleasure.
King.
Even what our Uncle Gloster will set down.
We do assent to.
Glost.
Herald fetch them in,
See them at all points arm'd.
Enter with Drum Sir Robert West. young Playn. Canbee and Hadland. At the other Door old Momf. Cap. West. Tom Srrowd, and old Strowd, and Bess.
Glost.
Who is the Plaintiff?
Momf.
I my gracious Lord.
Glost.
Reach him the Book, and thereon take thine Oath,
That thou art neither drawn by bribes nor hate
To undertake this Combat.—'Tis enough.
Speak truth, and nought but truth, so help thee Heaven.
Momf.
Pleaseth your Grace, this in a word is all,
Sir Robert Westford and Mr. Playnsey there confest
To a Blind-man, in hearing of that Maid,
That Playnsey and himself did counterfeit
The Letters that wrought Momfords banishment.
Glost.
Give him the Book, now answer on thine oath
In thy defence.
Then first my Liege 'tis false,
Next hee's a Felon, and by force of arms
Offer'd to rob these honest Gentlemen
In the high way.
T. Stro.
—Then I can hold my tongue no longer, it's an arrant
lye my Lord, that's the plain English on't: for I was by when Sir
Robert Westford and Mr. Playnsey gave them 30 l. to murder the
Blind-beggar, his Brother, and his Daughter, and if I had not
been, they had been all kill'd too, so had they.
King.
Fellows what do you say to this?
Can.
My Liege I cannot talk, grant me the Combate, and my
Sword shall prove I am a Souldier, and my tongue nere knew the
art of scolding.
Glost.
Give him his will, alarum to the fight.
King.
Stay, for me thinks there is some difference,
Both in their years, and their conditions,
And for we highly prize our Subject lives,
Good Uncle Gloster let them choose their weapons,
It may be a means to save their lives.
Glost.
And hearten others in pursute of knowledge.
Herauld bring forth all sorts of weapons,
'Tis the King's pleasure that every man
Make choice of those weapons he hath practis'd most.
Sir Robert chuse your weapon first.
Sir Rob.
Thanks to my Liege: the common fight of these same serving
men is sword and dagger, therefore I'll chuse the sword and target
they are unskilfull in; I take the sword and target for my defence.
Momf.
And my Liege, because Sir Rob. Westford shall not think
I'll take any advantage, I'll answer him at his own weapons.
King.
'Tis well; on to the next.
Y. Playn.
Come Captain Westford, you have been in Spain,
And well are practis'd in the desperate fight of single Rapier?
Cap. West.
Playnsey I am pleas'd.
King.
So are not we, the single Rapier is too desperate,
And therefore choose some other weapon,
Or we will have no Combat fought this day.
Y. Playn.
Backsword then and't please your Grace.
King.
So, we are pleas'd.
Can.
Sirrah Jack, methinks Sword and Bucklet's a safe fight.
Had.
I'll choose no other, and I had a thousand lives.
I do, take your bars of Iron, and your Barn-doors,
and I do not bang 'em together like a couple of Cur-dogs, I'll nere
be seen again.
King.
Sirrah thou fellow.
T. Stro.
Anon.
King.
What weapons wilt thou use?
T. Stro.
Weapon me no weapons, I can play at wasters as well
as another man; but all's one for that, give me but an ashen Gibbet
in my hand, and I do not dry-bang them both, I'll be bound to eat
hay with a horse, so will I.
King.
An ashen-gibbet? what dost thou mean by that?
T. Stro.
What do I mean by it quoth ye?—I think you be sib to
one of the London-Cockneys, that ask't, whether Hay-cocks were
better meat broyl'd or rosted, an ashen Plant, a good Cudgell,
what sho'd I ca it?
King.
If there be such a weapon in the Court, let one go fetch it
him.
T. Stro.
Nay I'll make a page of my own age, and fet it my self.
Swash bring out my blest Beggar there.
Enter Swash with an ashen-Gibbet:
Swash.
Yes Sir, here's your blest Beggar Master.
T. Stro.
Look ye Sirs, this is en it, and I do not cudgell 'em both
with it, I'll give you leave to stick me up at the Court-gate for a
Pissing-post, so will I.
King.
But two to one is oddes, rather fight single.
T. Stro.
No, they know me well enough, I have cudgelled them
both afore now.
King.
Well, if thou dare oppose them both, have thy desire.
King.
Alarum to the flight.
Alarum. They fight, and Momford's side wins.
King.
Fellow, dost hear?
T. Stro.
Anon?
King.
What should I call thy Country, and thy name?
T. Stro.
Sen ye?
Glost.
The King wo'd know thy Country, and thy name?
T. Stro.
My name? I am not asham'd of my name, I am one Tom
Strowd of Harling, I'll play a gole at Camp-ball, or wrassel a
fall a the hip, or the hin turn with ere a Courtnoll of ye all, for 20
quarters of Malt, and match me height for height.
King.
A lusty fellow trust—
We have too few such Subjects in our Land; where's the Blind-beggar
and his brother?
T. Stro.
Where the Blind-beggar is I know not, but here's the
pretty Mother his Daughter; and thou beest a kind spring all speak
a good word for me to my father that I may have her, and as God
mend me and ere thou com'st into Norfolk I'll give thee as good a
Dish of Dumplings as e're thou layd'st thy lips too, so will I, sen ye?
Old Stro.
How? mary with a Beggar? mix the blood of Strowds
with a tatter? either cast her off, or I will cast off thee.
T. Stro.
Now we shall have a coyl with ye; and ye were not my
father I'd knock your pate, so wo'd I.
Old Stro.
How's that? do and thou dare.
Momf.
Strowd, though she be Daughter to a poor Bind-man
that long hath liv'd on good mens charity, do not disdain her. Be
her birth as it may, the portion I'll give with her, deserves as good
a Husband as your Son.
T. Stro.
Bate me an ace of that gd. Bolton, yet I would I had her
as naked as my nayl.
Old Stro.
As good a portion as my Son? proud Beggar,
'Tis not your Clapdish and your patch'd Gown can do't.
Momf.
However poor, good Sir digrace me not.
Old Stro.
'Tis my disgrace to be out-worded by a Beggar?
But and thou be'st such a well-monied man
As thou dost brag, dar'st drop old Angels with me?
And he that out-drops other, take up all?
Momf.
That were ambition in a beggar Sir.
Cap. West.
'Twere credit for thee, and thou couldst out-drop him.
Momf.
So please my Liege to give me leave, I'll venture
That small Estate I have.
King.
We are content,
'Mongst cares 'tis fit to mix some meriment.
Momf.
Come hither Daughter; are you ready Master?
T. Stro.
—To him Father, never lose a hog for a halfp'worth of
tar; come old fellow bring thy white Bears to the stake, and thy
yellow gingle boys to the Bull-ring;—Father wherefore do you
hang an arse so? they are all our own and there were a comb seek
full on 'em
Momf.
I thus begin.
Old Stro.
And thus I answer thee.
Momf.
Thus I reply.
Old Stro.
And thus do I joyn issue.
I had rather joyn issue with the Mother a great deal, had I.
Old Stro.
Some more mony Swash.
Swash.
Here Master, we'll outdrop the Beggar, we'll make Gill
sweat else.
Old Stro.
Hast thou any mony about thee Tom?
T. Stro.
An hundred angels, and a better peny, Pigs of your own
Sow Father.
Momf.
There's 20 more.
Old Stro.
More yet? the Rascal will disgrace me; more yet?
T. Stro.
And yet too,—you think beggars ha' no lice father.
Glost.
Why how now Strowd, begins it to be low water with ye?
Old Stro.
I am e'en run a ground, have drop'd till I can drop no
more.
T. Stro.
You must e'en burn of the spit, for I have no more oyl
of Angels to bast you father.
Old Stro.
Nor thou Swash?
Swash.
Only a broken three farthings that I kept in a corner to
buy my wench pins with.
Momf.
All this is mine then.
Old Stro.
I not deny't, 'tis true
That was our match, and so good Gold adue.
T. Stro.
—I have brought my hogs to a fair Market, must I
lose the Mother and all my Gold too?
Old Stro.
Yes faith, all's gone Tom.
T. Stro.
This is your foolery Father, and I had don't, we sho'd
have had such a scolding with you.
Momf.
Then Strowd where thou before didst scorn my Daughter,
Now I do scorn thy Son; not mov'd through hate,
For Strowd I hold thee a most honest man,
For right thou didst unto Lord Momford's Daughter,
And since thy Son did save my poor Girls life,
And rescued mine with hazard of his own,
This Gold which by our bargain is all mine
I freely give him towards his mariage.
King.
Trust me a gallant Beggar.
T. Stro.
Beggar?—He might be a King for his bounty, for he
gives away all.
Swash.
I know the reason of that, he can beg more, and Begging
be so good an occupation wo'd I had been bound Apprentice to't
seven years ago, there was somewhat to be got by it then, 'tis out
of request now.
This is old excellent, here carry't to my Chamber Swash,
and lock the door fast I charge thee.
Swash.
And I meet no false Knaves by the way; Canbee and Hadland
here had been a simple boon for you now.
Exit.
Momf.
And now my Lord, since Momford is prov'd clear,
And his Accusers have confest their guilt,
I freely give my Daughter to the man,
Who for the love of Momford (lov'd of all)
Will take her to his wife.
Cap. West.
For Momford's sake, whose honor'd deeds
Are writ up with the blood of the proud French,
Were she the meanest and deformed'st Creature
That treads upon the bosome of the earth,
Westford wo'd take, love, live and marry her.
Momf.
Nay then I see that virtue shall find friends;
Take her good Captain, and for Momford's sake
Use the Maid kindly.
T. Stro.
Why farewell 40 pence, I ha fisht fair and caught a
frog; well Mother, though I am no Gentleman, I co'd ha brought
you to more Land than a score on 'em, thou should'st have had 40
as fair milch kine to your payl, as a man sho'd need to see in a
Summers day, 4 yoak of Oxen, and three team of Cart-horses; besides
thou should'st have had thine ambling nag, and thy side-saddle
to ha rid on, a little easier than to be jaunted up and down
London Streets in a lethern wheel-barrow; and then of the other
side there's the old woman my Mother, she would have made thee
a vild-good Huswife could have taught thee how to a made
butter, and flap-jacks, fritters, pancakes, I and the rarest fools, all the
Ladies in the Land know not how to turn their hands to 'em:
But I'll take my leave on thee with an oh good night Land-lady
the Moon is up.
Momford discovers himself.
Cap. W., Gl., Card.
Momford!
King.
Bold Momford living, and proved Loyal,
Thy Love like a rich Jewel we will wear
Next to our hear; upon those Gentlemen
That have maintain'd and proved faithfull,
We do confer a 100 Crowns a piece.
Momf.
Your Grace in this does Momford double right;
And noble Country-men while we do live,
Your Love and Valour must not be forgotten.
How is't you will we deal with your Accusers?
King.
That we refer unto our Uncle Gloster,
Who better knows those passages than we.
Glost.
Since 'tis your will my Liege, then thus't must be,
For you Y. Playnsey and Sir Robert Westford
Receive a legal Tryal; Canbee and Hadland,
We for a President will have you sent
Out of the Land to dateless banishment.
Can.
Thanks your good Honor, and we'll do you more good by
cheating your enemies abroad, than ever we did hurt by cosening
honest subjects at home.
King.
Good Uncle Gloster, we commend your care
For throwing out such rank weeds forth our Land,
Whose weaken'd body hath been sick too long,
Wanting those helps that should have made it strong.
'Mongst whom Lord Momford you are not the least,
(Pray Heaven you be the last) whom this wilde beast,
Ambitious treason sought to ruinate:
But in requital of your more than wrong
We make you here our Lord High-Treasurer;
And Captain Westford, make you General
Of all our forces muster'd up 'gainst France.
Thus our disjointed Kingdom being made strong,
Each Member seated in his proper seat
Let's in to praise his name, whose powerfull hand
Protects the safety of our peacefull Land.
| The Blind-Beggar of Bednal-Green | |