Beggars Bush: A Comedy - John Fletcher 2 стр.

Gos. I take it at your own rates, your wine of Cyprus,
But for your Candy sugars, they have met
With such foul weather, and are priz'd so high
I cannot save in them.

4 Mer. I am unwilling
To seek another Chapman: make me offer
Of something near price, that may assure me
You can deal for them.

Gos. I both can, and will,
But not with too much loss; your bill of lading
Speaks of two hundred chests, valued by you
At thirty thousand gilders, I will have them
At twenty eight; so, in the payment of
Three thousand sterling, you fall only in
Two hundred pound.

4 Mer. You know, they are so cheap.

Gos. Why look you; I'le deal fa[ir]ly, there's in prison,
And at your suit, a Pirat, but unable
To make you satisfaction, and past hope
To live a week, if you should prosecute
What you can prove against him: set him free,
And you shall have your mony to a Stiver,
And present payment.

4 Mer. This is above wonder,
A Merchant of your rank, that have at Sea
So many Bottoms in the danger of
These water-Thieves, should be a means to save 'em,
It more importing you for your own safety
To be at charge to scour the Sea of them
Than stay the sword of justice, that is ready
To fall on one so conscious of his guilt
That he dares not deny it.

Gos. You mistake me,
If you think I would cherish in this Captain
The wrong he did to you, or any man;
I was lately with him, (having first, from others
True testimony been assured a man
Of more desert never put from the shore)
I read his letters of Mart from this State granted
For the recovery of such losses, as
He had receiv'd in Spain, 'twas that he aim'd at,
Not at three tuns of wine, bisket, or beef,
Which his necessity made him take from you.
If he had pillag'd you near, or sunk your ship,
Or thrown your men o'r-board, then he deserv'd
The Laws extreamest rigour. But since want
Of what he could not live without, compel'd him
To that he did (which yet our State calls death)
I pity his misfortune; and to work you
To some compassion of them, I come up
To your own price: save him, the goods are mine;
If not, seek else-where, I'le not deal for them.

4 Mer. Well Sir, for your love, I will once be led
To change my purpose.

Gos. For your profit rather.

4 Mer. I'le presently make means for his discharge,
Till when, I leave you.

2 Mer. What do you think of this?

1 Mer. As of a deed of noble pity: guided
By a strong judgement.

2 Mer. Save you Master Goswin.

Goswin. Good day to all.

2 Mer. We bring you the refusal
Of more Commodities.

Gos. Are you the owners
Of the ship that last night put into the Harbour?

1 Mer. Both of the ship, and lading.

Gos. What's the fraught?

1 Mer. Indico, Cochineel, choise Chyna stuffs.

3 Mer. And cloath of Gold brought from Cambal.

Gos. Rich lading,
For which I were your Chapman, but I am
Already out of cash.

1 Mer. I'le give you day
For the moiety of all.

Gos. How long?

3 Mer. Six months.

Gos. 'Tis a fair offer: which (if we agree
About the prices) I, with thanks accept of,
And will make present payment of the rest;
Some two hours hence I'le come aboard.

1 Mer. The Gunner shall speak you welcom.

Gos. I'le not fail.

3 Mer. Good morrow. [Ex. Merch.

Gos. Heaven grant my Ships a safe return, before
The day of this great payment: as they are
Expected three months sooner: and my credit
Stands good with all the world.

Ger. Bless my good Master,
The prayers of your poor Beads-man ever shall
Be sent up for you.

Gos. God o' mercy Clause,
There's something to put thee in mind hereafter
To think of me.

Ger. May he that gave it you
Reward you for it, with encrease, good Master.

Gos. I thrive the better for thy prayers.

Ger. I hope so.
This three years have I fed upon your bounties,
And by the fire of your blest charity warm'd me,
And yet, good Master, pardon me, that must,
Though I have now receiv'd your alms, presume
To make one sute more to you.

Gos. What is't Clause?

Ger. Yet do not think me impudent I beseech you,
Since hitherto your charity hath prevented
My begging your relief, 'tis not for mony
Nor cloaths (good Master) but your good word for me.

Gos. That thou shalt have, Clause, for I think thee honest.

Ger. To morrow then (dear M'r.) take the trouble
Of walking early unto Beggars Bush,
And as you see me, among others (Brethren
In my affliction) when you are demanded
Which you like best among us, point out me,
And then pass by, as if you knew me not.

Gos. But what will that advantage thee?

Ger. O much Sir,
'Twill give me the preheminence of the rest,
Make me a King among 'em, and protect me
From all abuse, such as are stronger, might
Offer my age; Sir, at your better leisure
I will inform you further of the good
It may do to me.

Gos. 'Troth thou mak'st me wonder;
Have you a King and common-wealth among you?

Ger. We have, and there are States are govern'd worse.

Gos. Ambition among Beggars?

Ger. Many great ones
Would part with half their states, to have the place,
And credit to beg in the first file, Master:
But shall I be so much bound to your furtherance
In my Petition?

Gos. That thou shalt not miss of,
Nor any worldly care make me forget it, I will be early there.

Ger. Heaven bless my Master. [Exeunt.

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 bear)
Jarkman, or Patrico, Cranke, or Clapperdudgeon, Frater, or Abram-man;
I speak to all
That stand in fair 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 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 Butter, 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 Ass, 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.

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: Gods 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-ship,
Who, I hope, will 'termine it as your mind serves you,
Right, and no otherwise we ask it: which?
Which does your worship 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 God 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 pass.
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 butter,
In his own shade, or sun-shine, and enjoy
His own dear Dell, Doxy, or Mort, at night
In his own straw, with his own shirt, 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 compassion: 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 pass-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 fumbumbis to it. Strike.

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?
Be it peace, or be it war, here at liberty we are,
And enjoy our ease and rest; To the field we are not prest;
Nor are call'd into the Town, to be troubled with the Gown.
Hang all Officers we cry, and the Magistrate too, by;
When the Subsidie's encreast, we are not a penny Sest.
Nor will any go to Law, with the Beggar for a straw.
All which happiness he brags, he doth owe unto his rags._