University of Virginia Library

Scæna Prima

Enter Higgen, Ferret, Prig, Clause, Jaculine, Snap, Gynkes, and other Beggars.
Hig.
Come Princes of the ragged regiment,
You o' the blood, Prig my most upright Lord,
And these (what name or title, e're they beare)
Jarkman, or Patrico, Cranke, or Clapperdudgeon.
Frater, or Abram-man; I speake to all
That stand in faire Election for the title
Of King of Beggars, with the command adjoyning,
Higgen, your Orator, in this Inter-regnum,
That whilom was your Dommerer, doth beseech you
All to stand faire, and put your selves in ranke,
That the first Commer, may at his first view
Make a free choise, to say up the question.

Fer., Pr.
'Tis done Lord Higgen.

Hig.
Thankes to Prince Prig, Prince Ferret.

Fer.
Well, pray my Masters all, Ferret be chosen
Ye'ar like to have a mercifull mild Prince of me.

Prig.
A very tyrant, I, an arrant tyrant.
If e're I come to reigne; therefore looke to't,
Except you do provide me hum enough
And Lour to bouze with: I must have my Capons
And Turkeys brought me in, with my green Geese,
And Ducklings i'th season: fine fat chickens,
Or if you chance where an eye of tame Phesants
Or Partridges are kept, see they be mine,
Or straight I seize on all your priviledge,
Places, revenues, offices, as forfeit,
Call in your crutches, wooden legs, false bellyes,
Forc'd eyes and teeth, with your dead arms; not leave you
A durty clout to beg with o' your heads,
Or an old rag with Butter, Frankinsence,
Brimstone and Rozen, birdlime, blood, and creame,
To make you an old sore; not so much sope
As you may fome with i'th Falling-sicknesse;
The very bag you beare, and the brown dish
Shall be escheated. All your daintiest dells too
I will deflowr, and take your dearest Doxyes
From your warme sides; and then some one cold night
I'le watch you what olde barne you goe to roost in,
And there I'le smoother you all i'th musty hay.

Hig.
This is tyrant-like indeed: But what would Ginks
Or Clause be here, if either of them should raigne?

Ger.
Best aske an asse, if he were made a Camell,
What he would be; or a dog, and he were a Lyon.

Ginks.
I care not what you are, Sirs, I shall be
A Begger, still, I am sure, find my selfe there.

Enter Florez.
Snap.
O here a Judge comes.

Hig.
Cry, a Judge, a Judge.

Flo.
What aile you Sirs? what means this out-cry?

Hig.
Master
A sort of poor soules met: Gods fools, good Master,
Have had some little variance amongst our selves
Who should be honestest of us; and which lives
Uprightest in his call: Now, 'cause we thought
We ne're should gree on't our selves, because
Indeed 'tis hard to say: we all dissolv'd, to put it
To whom that should come next, and that's your Mastership,
Who, I hope, will termine it as your mind serves you,
Right, and no otherwise we aske it: which?
Which does your Worship thinke is he? sweet Master
Looke over us all, and tell us; we are seven of us,
Like to the seven wise Masters, or the Planets.

Flo.
I should judge this the man with the grave beard,
And if he be not—

Ger.
Blesse you, good Master, blesse you.

Flo.
I would he were: there's something too, amongst you
To keep you all honest.

Exit
Snap.
King of heaven goe with you.

Omn.
Now good reward him,
May he never want it, to comfort still the poor, in a good houre.

Fer.
What is't? see: Snap ha's got it.

Snap.
A good crown, marry:

Prig.
A crown of gold.

Fer.
For our new King: good luck.

Ginks.
To the common treasury with it; if 't be gold,
Thither it must.

Prig.
Spoke like a Patriot, Ferret—
King Clause. I bid God save thee first, first, Clause,
After this golden token of a crowne;
Wher's Oratour Higgen with his gratuling speech now,
In all our names?

Fer.
Here he is pumping for it.

Gin.
H' has cough'd the second time, 'tis but once more
And then it comes.

Fer.
So, out with all: expect now—

Hig.
That thou art chosen, venerable Clause,
Our King and Soveraign; Monarch o'th Maunders.
Thus we throw up our Nab-cheats, first for joy,
And then our filches; last, we clap our fambles,
Three subject signes, we do it without envy:
For who is he here did not wish thee chosen
Now thou art chosen? aske 'em: all will say so,
Nay swear't: 'tis for the King, but let that passe;
When last in conference at the bouzing ken
This other day we sate about our dead Prince
Of famous memory: (rest, goe with his rags:)
And that I saw thee at the tables end,
Rise mov'd, and gravely leaning on one Crutch,
Lift the other like a Scepter at my head,
I then presag'd thou shortly wouldst be King
And now thou art so: but what need presage,
To us, that might have read it, in thy beard,
As well, as he that chose thee? by that beard
Thou wert found out, and mark'd for Soveraignty.
O happy beard! but happier Prince, whose beard,
Was so remark'd, as marked out our Prince,
Not bating us a haire. Long may it grow,
And thick, and faire, that who lives under it,
May live as safe, as under Beggars Bush,
Of which this is the thing, that but the type.

Om.
Excellent, excellent oratour, forward good Higgen
Give him leave to spit: the fine, well-spoken Higgen.

Hig.
This is the beard, the bush, or bushy-beard,
Under whose gold and silver raigne 'twas said
So many ages since, we all should smile
On impositions, taxes, grievances,
Knots in a State, and whips unto a Subject,
Lye lurking in this Beard, but all hem'd out:
If now, the Beard be such, what is the Prince
That owes the Beard? a Father; no, a Grandfather;
Nay the great Grand-father of you his people.
He will not force away your hens, your bacon,
When you have ventur'd hard for't, nor take from you
The fattest of your puddings: under him
Each man shall eate his own stolne eggs, and butter,
In his owne shade, or sun-shine, and enjoy
His owne deare Dell, Doxy, or Mort, at night
In his own straw, with his owne shirt, or sheet,
That he hath filch'd that day, I, and possesse
What he can purchase, backe, or belly-cheats
To his own prop: he will have no purveyers
For Pigs, and poultry.

Ger.
That we must have, my learned Oratour,
It is our will, and every man to keep
In his own path and circuite.

Hig.
Do you heare?
You must hereafter maund on your own pads he saies.

Ger.
And what they get there, is their owne, besides
To give good words.

Hig.
Do you marke? to cut bene whids,
That is the second Law.

Ger.
And keepe a-foote
The humble, and the common phrase of begging,
Lest men discover us.

Hig.
Yes; and cry sometimes,
To move compassion: Sir, there is a table,
That doth command all these things, and enjoyns 'em;
Be perfect in their crutches: their fain'd planters,
And their true pas-ports, with the ways to stammer,
And to be dumb, and deafe, and blind, and lame,
There, all the halting paces are set downe,
I'th learned language.

Ger.
Thither I refer them,
Those, you at leisure shall interpret to them,
We love no heapes of lawes, where few will serve.

Om.
O gracious Prince, 'save, 'save the good K. Clause.

Hig.
A Song to crowne him.

Fer.
Set a Centinell out first.

Sn.
The word?

Hig.
A Cove comes, and fumbumbis to it.—

Strike.
Enter Snap, Hubert, and Hemskirke.
Snap.
A Cove: Fumbumbis.

Prig.
To your postures; arme:

Hub.
Yonder's the Towne: I see it.

Hemsk.
Ther's our danger
Indeed afore us, if our shadows save not.

Hig.
Blesse your good Worships:

Fer.
One small piece of money.

Prig.
Amongst us all poore wretches:

Ger.
Blinde, and lame,

Ginks.
For his sake that gives all.

Hig.
Pittifull Worships;

Snap.
One little doyt.

Enter Jaculine.
Jac.
King, by your leave, where are you?

Ger.
To buy a litle bread,

Hig.
To feed so many
Mouths, as will ever pray for you.

Prig.
Here be seven of us.

Hig.
Seven, good Master, ô remember seven,
Seven blessings.

Fer.
Remember, gentle Worship.

Hig.
'Gainst seven deadly sins,

Prig.
And seven sleepers.

Hig.
If they be hard of heart, and will give nothing—
Alas, we had not a charity this three dayes.

Hub.
Ther's amongst you all?

Fer.
Heaven reward you.

Prig.
Lord, reward you?

Hig.
The Prince of pitty blesse thee.

Hub.
Do I see? or is't my fancy that would have it so?
Ha? 'tis her face: come hither Maid.

Jac.
What ha', you
Bells for my squirrell? I ha' giv'n Bun meat,
You do not love me, do you? catch me a butter fly,
And I'le love you againe; when? can you tell?
Peace, we go a birding: I shall have a fine thing.

Hub.
Her voyce too sayes the same; but for my head
I would not that her manners, were so chang'd,
Heare me thou honest fellow; what's this Mayden,
That lives amongst you here?

Gincks.
Ao, ao, ao, ao.

Hub.
How? nothing but signes?

Gin.
Ao, ao, ao, ao.

Hub.
This strange,
I would faine have it her, but not her thus.

Hig.
He is de-de-de-de-de-de-deafe, and du-du-dude—dumb Sir.

Hub.
Slid they did all speak plain ev'n now me thought
Do'st thou know this same Maid?

Sn.
Why, why, why, why, which, gu, gu, gu, gu, Gods foole
She was bo-bo-bo-bo-borne at the barne younder,
By-be-be-be-be-Beggars Bush-bo-bo-Bush
Her name is, My-my-my-my-my-match: so was her Mo-mo-mo-Mothers too-too

Hub.
I understand no word she sayes; how long
Has she been here?

Sn.
Lo-lo-long enough to be ni-ni-nigled: and she ha' go-go-go-good luck,

Hub.
I must be better inform'd, then by this way.
Here was another face too, that I mark'd
O the old mans: but they are vanish'd all
Most sodainly: I will come here againe,
O, that I were so happy, as to finde it,
What I yet hope? it is put on.

Hem.
What meane you Sir,
To stay there with that stammerer?

Hub.
Farewell friend,—
It will be worth returne, to search: Come,
Protect us our disguize now, pre'thee Hemskirck
If we be taken, how do'st thou imagine
This Towne will use us, that hath stood so long
Out, against Woolfort?

Hem.
Ev'n to hang us forth
Upon their walls a sunning, to make Crowes meate,
If I were not assur'd 'o the Burgomaster,
And had a pretty skuys, to see a niece there,
I should scarce venture.

Hub.
Come 'tis now too late
To looke back at the ports: good luck, and enter.

Exeunt.