Beggars Bush Part 3

_ACTUS SECUNDUS. SCENA PRIMA._

_Enter_ Higgen, Ferret, Prig, Clause, Jaculine, Snap, Ginks, _and other beggars_.

_Hig._ Come Princes of the ragged regiment, You o' the blood, _Prig_ my most upright Lord, And these (what name or t.i.tle, e're they bear) _Jarkman_, or _Patrico_, _Cranke_, or _Clapperdudgeon_, _Frater_, or _Abram-man_; I speak to all That stand in fair Election for the t.i.tle 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 fair, and put your selves in rank, That the first Comer, may at his first view Make a free choice, to say up the question.

_Fer. Pr._ 'Tis done Lord _Higgen_.

_Hig._ Thanks to Prince _Prig_, Prince _Ferret_.

_Fer._ Well, pray my Masters all, _Ferret_ be chosen, Y'are like to have a mercifull mild Prince of me.

_Prig._ A very tyrant, I, an arrant tyrant, If e're I come to reign; therefore look 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 b.u.t.ter, Frankincense, Brimston and Rozen, birdlime, blood, and cream, To make you an old sore; not so much soap As you may fome with i'th' Falling-sickness; The very bag you bear, and the brown dish Shall be escheated. All your daintiest Dells too I will deflower, and take your dearest Doxyes From your warm sides; and then some one cold night I'le watch you what old barn you go to roost in, And there I'le smother 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 raign?

_Clau._ Best ask an a.s.s, if he were made a Camel, What he would be; or a dog, and he were a Lyon.

_Ginks._ I care not what you are, Sirs, I shall be A Beggar still I am sure, I find my self there.

_Enter_ Goswin.

_Snap._ O here a Judge comes.

_Hig._ Cry, a Judge, a Judge.

_Gos._ What ail you Sirs? what means this outcry?

_Hig._ Master, A sort of poor souls met: G.o.ds fools, good Master, Have had some little variance amongst our selves Who should be honestest of us, and which lives Uprightest in his calling: 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 him that should come next, and that's your Master-s.h.i.+p, Who, I hope, will 'termine it as your mind serves you, Right, and no otherwise we ask it: which?

Which does your wors.h.i.+p think is he? sweet Master Look over us all, and tell us; we are seven of us, Like to the seven wise Masters, or the Planets.

_Gos._ I should judge this the man with the grave beard, And if he be not--

_Clau._ Bless you, good Master, bless you.

_Gos._ I would he were: there's something too amongst you To keep you all honest. [_Exit._

_Snap._ King of Heaven go with you.

_Omn._ Now good reward him, May he never want it, to comfort still the poor, in a good hour.

_Fer._ What is't? see: _Snap_ has 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 G.o.d save thee first, first, _Clause_, After this golden token of a crown; Where'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 signs, we do it without envy: For who is he here did not wish thee chosen, Now thou art chosen? ask 'em: all will say so, Nay swear't: 'tis for the King, but let that pa.s.s.

When last in conference at the bouzing ken This other day we sat about our dead Prince Of famous memory: (rest go 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 hair. Long may it grow, And thick, and fair, 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 orator, 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 raign '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 kemb'd out: If now, the Beard be such, what is the Prince That owes the Beard? a Father; no, a Grand-father; 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 eat his own stolen eggs, and b.u.t.ter, In his own shade, or sun-s.h.i.+ne, and enjoy His own dear Dell, Doxy, or Mort, at night In his own straw, with his own s.h.i.+rt, or sheet, That he hath filch'd that day, I, and possess What he can purchase, back, or belly-cheats To his own prop: he will have no purveyers For Pigs, and poultry.

_Clau._ That we must have, my learned oratour, It is our will, and every man to keep In his own path and circuit.

_Hig._ Do you hear?

You must hereafter maund on your own pads he saies.

_Clau._ And what they get there, is their own, besides To give good words.

_Hig._ Do you mark? to cut been whids, That is the second Law.

_Clau._ And keep a-foot The humble, and the common phrase of begging, Lest men discover us.

_Hig._ Yes; and cry sometimes, To move compa.s.sion: Sir, there is a table, That doth command all these things, and enjoyns 'em, Be perfect in their crutches, their feign'd plaisters, And their torn pa.s.s-ports, with the ways to stammer, And to be dumb, and deaf, and blind, and lame, There, all the halting paces are set down, I'th' learned language.

_Clau._ Thither I refer them, Those, you at leisure shall interpret to them.

We love no heaps of laws, where few will serve.

_Om._ O gracious Prince, 'save, 'save the good King _Clause_.

_Hig._ A Song to crown him.

_Fer._ Set a Centinel out first.

_Snap._ The word?

_Hig._ A Cove comes, and fumb.u.mbis to it.-- _Strike._

_The SONG.

Cast our Caps and cares away: this is Beggars Holy-day, At the Crowning of our King, thus we ever dance and sing.

In the world look out and see: where's so happy a Prince as he?

Where the Nation live so free, and so merry as do we?