Beggars Bush: A Comedy / From the Works of Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher (Volume 2 of 10)

BEGGARS BUSH,

A COMEDY.

Persons Represented in the Play.

Wolfort, an usurper of the Earldom of Flanders.

Gerrard, falsely called Clause, King of the Beggars, Father in Law to
Florez.

Hubert, an honest Lord, a friend to Gerrard.

Florez, falsely called Goswin, a rich Merchant of Bruges.

Hempskirke, a Captain under Wolford.

Herman a Courtier,} inhabitants of A Merchant, } Flanders.

Vandunke, a drunken Merchant friend to Gerrard, falsely called Father to Bertha.

Vanlock, and 4 Merchants, of Bruges.

Higgen, }
Prigg, }Three Knavish Beggars.
Snapp, }

Ferret, }Two Gentlemen disguised under those
Ginkes, } names of Gerrard's party.

Clown.
Boores.
Servants.
Guard.
A Sailor.

WOMEN.

Jaculin, Daughter to Gerrard, beloved of Hubert.

Bertha called Gertrude, Daughter to the Duke of Brabant, Mistress to
Florez.

Margaret, Wife to Vandunke.

Mrs Frances, a frow Daughter to Vanlock.

The Scene Flanders.

ACTUS PRIMUS. SCENA PRIMA.

Enter a Merchant and Herman.

Mer. Is he then taken?

Her. And brought back even now, Sir.

Mer. He was not in disgrace?

Her. No man more lov'd, Nor more deserv'd it, being the only man That durst be honest in this Court.

Mer. Indeed
We have heard abroad, Sir, that the State hath suffered
A great change, since the Countesses death.

Her. It hath, Sir.

Mer. My five years absence hath kept me a stranger
So much to all the occurents of my Country,
As you shall bind me for some short relation
To make me understand the present times.

Her. I must begin then with a War was made
And seven years with all cruelty continued
Upon our Flanders by the Duke of Brabant,
The cause grew thus: during our Earls minority,
Wolfort, (who now usurps) was employed thither
To treat about a match between our Earl
And the Daughter and Heir of Brabant: during which treaty
The Brabander pretends, this Daughter was
Stoln from his Court, by practice of our State,
Though we are all confirm'd, 'twas a sought quarrel
To lay an unjust gripe upon this Earldom,
It being here believ'd the Duke of Brabant
Had no such loss. This War upon't proclaimed,
Our Earl, being then a Child, although his Father
Good Gerrard liv'd, yet in respect he was
Chosen by the Countesses favour, for her Husband,
And but a Gentleman, and Florez holding
His right unto this Country from his Mother,
The State thought fit in this defensive War,
Wolfort being then the only man of mark,
To make him General.

Mer. Which place we have heard He did discharge with ho[n]our.

Her. I, so long,
And with so blest successes, that the Brabander
Was forc't (his treasures wasted, and the choice
Of his best men of Armes tyr'd, or cut off)
To leave the field, and sound a base retreat
Back to his Country: but so broken both
In mind and means, er'e to make head again,
That hitherto he sits down by his loss,
Not daring, or for honour, or revenge
Again to tempt his fortune. But this Victory
More broke our State, and made a deeper hurt
In Flanders, than the greatest overthrow
She ever receiv'd: For Wolfort, now beholding
Himself, and actions, in the flattering glass
Of self-deservings, and that cherish't by
The strong assurance of his power, for then
All Captains of the Army were his creatures,
The common Souldier too at his devotion,
Made so by full indulgence to their rapines
And secret bounties, this strength too well known
And what it could effect, soon put in practice,
As further'd by the Child-hood of the Earl:
And their improvidence, that might have pierc't
The heart of his designs, gave him occasion
To seize the whole, and in that plight you find it.

Mer. Sir, I receive the knowledge of thus much, As a choice favour from you.

Her. Only I must add, Bruges holds out.

Mer. Whither, Sir, I am going, For there last night I had a ship put in, And my Horse waits me. [Exit.

Her. I wish you a good journey.

Enter Wolfort, Hubert.

Wol. What? Hubert stealing from me? who disarm'd him?
It was more than I commanded; take your sword,
I am best guarded with it in your hand,
I have seen you use it nobly.

Hub. And will turn it On my own bosom, ere it shall be drawn Unworthily or rudely.

Wol. Would you leave me
Without a farewel, Hubert? flie a friend
Unwearied in his study to advance you?
What have I e're possess'd which was not yours?
Or either did not court you to command it?
Who ever yet arriv'd to any grace,
Reward or trust from me, but his approaches
Were by your fair reports of him prefer'd?
And what is more I made my self your Servant,
In making you the Master of those secrets
Which not the rack of Conscience could draw from me,
Nor I, when I askt mercy, trust my prayers with;
Yet after these assurances of love,
These tyes and bonds of friendship, to forsake me?
Forsake me as an enemy? come you must
Give me a reason.

Hub. Sir, and so I will, If I may do't in private: and you hear it.

Wol. All leave the room: you have your will, sit down And use the liberty of our first friendship.

Hub. Friendship? when you prov'd Traitor first, that vanish'd,
Nor do I owe you any thought, but hate,
I know my flight hath forfeited my head;
And so I may make you first understand
What a strange monster you have made your self,
I welcome it.

Wol. To me this is strange language.

Hub. To you? why what are you?

Wol. Your Prince and Master, The Earl of Flanders.

Hub. By a proper title!
Rais'd to it by cunning, circumvention, force,
Blood, and proscriptions.

Wol. And in all this wisdom,
Had I not reason? when by Gerrards plots
I should have first been call'd to a strict accompt
How, and which way I had consum'd that mass
Of money, as they term it, in the War,
Who underhand had by his Ministers
Detracted my great action, made my faith
And loyalty suspected, in which failing
He sought my life by practice.

Hub. With what fore-head Do you speak this to me? who (as I know't) Must, and will say 'tis false.

Wol. My Guard there.

Hub. Sir, you bad me sit, and promis'd you would hear,
Which I now say you shall; not a sound more,
For I that am contemner of mine own,
Am Master of your life; then here's a Sword
Between you, and all aids, Sir, though you blind
The credulous beast, the multitude, you pass not
These gross untruths on me.

Wol. How? gross untruths?

Hub. I, and it is favourable language, They had been in a mean man lyes, and foul ones.

Wol. You take strange Licence.

Hub. Yes, were not those rumours
Of being called unto your answer, spread
By your own followers? and weak Gerrard wrought
(But by your cunning practice) to believe
That you were dangerous; yet not to be
Punish'd by any formal course of Law,
But first to be made sure, and have your crimes
Laid open after, which your quaint train taking
You fled unto the Camp, and [there] crav'd humbly
Protection for your innocent life, and that,
Since you had scap'd the fury of the War,
You might not fall by treason: and for proof,
You did not for your own ends make this danger;
Some that had been before by you suborn'd,
Came forth and took their Oaths they had been hir'd
By Gerrard to your Murther. This once heard,
And easily believ'd, th'inraged Souldier
Seeing no further than the outward-man,
Snatch'd hastily his Arms, ran to the Court,
Kill'd all that made resistance, cut in pieces
Such as were Servants, or thought friends to Gerrard,
Vowing the like to him.

Wol. Will you yet end?

Hub. Which he foreseeing, with his Son, the Earl,
Forsook the City; and by secret wayes
As you give out, and we would gladly have it,
Escap'd their fury: though 'tis more than fear'd
They fell amongst the rest; Nor stand you there
To let us only mourn the impious means
By which you got it, but your cruelties since
So far transcend your former bloody ills,
As if compar'd, they only would appear
Essays of mischief; do not stop your ears,
More are behind yet.

Wol. O repeat them not, 'Tis Hell to hear them nam'd.

Hub. You should have thought,
That Hell would be your punishment when you did them,
A Prince in nothing but your princely lusts,
And boundless rapines.

Wol. No more I beseech you.

Hub. Who was the Lord of house or land, that stood Within the prospect of your covetous eye?

Wol. You are in this to me a greater Tyrant, Than e're I was to any.

Hub. I end thus
The general grief: now to my private wrong;
The loss of Gerrards Daughter Jaqueline:
The hop'd for partner of my lawful Bed,
Your cruelty hath frighted from mine arms;
And her I now was wandring to recover.
Think you that I had reason now to leave you,
When you are grown so justly odious,
That ev'n my stay here with your grace and favour,
Makes my life irksome? here, surely take it,
And do me but this fruit of all your friendship,
That I may dye by you, and not your Hang-man.

Wol. Oh Hubert, these your words and reasons have
As well drawn drops of blood from my griev'd heart,
As these tears from mine eyes;
Despise them not.
By all that's sacred, I am serious, Hubert,
You now have made me sensible, what furies,
Whips, Hangmen, and Tormentors a bad man
Do's ever bear about him: let the good
That you this day have done, be ever number'd
The first of your best actions;
Can you think,
Where Goswin is or Gerrard, or your love,
Or any else, or all that are proscrib'd?
I will resign, what I usurp, or have
Unjustly forc'd; the dayes I have to live
Are too too few to make them satisfaction
With any penitence: yet I vow to practise
All of a man.

Hub. O that your heart and tongue Did not now differ!

Wol. By my griefs they do not.
Take the good pains to search them out: 'tis worth it,
You have made clean a Leper: trust me you have,
And made me once more fit for the society,
I hope of good men.

Hub. Sir, do not abuse My aptness to believe.

Wol. Suspect not you
A faith that's built upon so true a sorrow,
Make your own safetys: ask them all the ties
Humanity can give, Hemskirk too shall
Along with you to this so wish'd discovery,
And in my name profess all that you promise;
And I will give you this help to't: I have
Of late receiv'd certain intelligence,
That some of them are in or about Bruges
To be found out: which I did then interpret,
The cause of that Towns standing out against me;
But now am glad, it may direct your purpose
Of giving them their safety, and me peace.

Hub. Be constant to your goodness, and you have it. [Exeunt.

SCENA II.

Enter 3. Merchants.

1 Mer. 'Tis much that you deliver of this Goswin.

2 Mer. But short of what I could, yet have the Country
Confirm'd it true, and by a general oath,
And not a man hazard his credit in it:
He bears himself with such a confidence
As if he were the Master of the Sea,
And not a wind upon the Sailers compass,
But from one part or other was his factor,
To bring him in the best commodities,
Merchant e're ventur'd for.

1. 'Tis strange.

2. And yet
This do's in him deserve the least of wonder,
Compared with other his peculiar fashions,
Which all admire: he's young, and rich, at least
Thus far reputed so, that since he liv'd
In Bruges, there was never brought to harbour
So rich a Bottom, but his bill would pass
Unquestion'd for her lading.

3 Mer. Yet he still Continues a good man.

2 Mer. So good, that but
To doubt him, would be held an injury
Or rather malice, with the best that traffique;
But this is nothing, a great stock, and fortune,
Crowning his judgement in his undertakings
May keep him upright that way: But that wealth
Should want the power to make him dote on it,
Or youth teach him to wrong it, best commends
His constant temper; for his outward habit
'Tis suitable to his present course of life:
His table furnish'd well, but not with dainties
That please the appetite only for their rareness,
Or their dear price: nor given to wine or women,
Beyond his health, or warrant of a man,
I mean a good one: and so loves his state
He will not hazard it at play; nor lend
Upon the assurance of a well-pen'd Letter,
Although a challenge second the denial
From such as make th' opinion of their valour
Their means of feeding.

1 Mer. These are wayes to thrive, And the means not curs'd.

2 Mer. What follows, this
Makes many venturers with him, in their wishes,
For his prosperity: for when desert
Or reason leads him to be liberal,
His noble mind and ready hand contend
Which can add most to his free courtesies,
Or in their worth, or speed to make them so.
Is there a Virgin of good fame wants dower?
He is a Father to her; or a Souldier
That in his Countreys service, from the war
Hath brought home only scars, and want? his house
Receives him, and relieves him, with that care
As if what he possess'd had been laid up
For such good uses, and he steward of it.
But I should lose my self to speak him further
And stale in my relation, the much good
You may be witness of, if your remove
From Bruges be not speedy.

1 Mer. This report
I do assure you will not hasten it,
Nor would I wish a better man to deal with
For what I am to part with.

3 Mer. Never doubt it,
He is your man and ours, only I wish
His too much forwardness to embrace all bargains
Sink him not in the end.

2 Mer. Have better hopes, For my part I am confident; here he comes.

Enter Goswin, and the fourth Merchant.

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.

Enter Gerrard.

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.

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 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.

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: 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.

_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?
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._

Enter Snap, Hubert, and Hemskirke.

Snap. A Cove comes: Fumbumbis.

Prig. To your postures; arm.

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

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

Hig. Bless your good Worships.

Fer. One small piece of mony.

Prig. Amongst us all poor wretches.

Clau. Blind, and lame.

Ginks. For his sake that gives all.

Hig. Pitifull Worships.

Snap. One little doyt.

Enter Jaculin.

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

Fer. To buy a little bread.

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

Prig. Here be seven of us.

Hig. Seven, good Master, O 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. There's amongst you all.

Fer. Heaven reward you.

Prig. Lord reward you.

Hig. The Prince of pity bless 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 squirrel? I ha' giv'n bun meat,
You do not love me, do you? catch me a butterfly,
And I'le love you again; when? can you tell?
Peace, we go a birding: I shall have a fine thing. [Exit.

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

Gin. Ao, ao, ao, ao.

Hub. How? nothing but signs?

Gin. Ao, ao, ao, ao.

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

Hig. He is de-de-de-de-de-de-deaf, 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?

Snap. Why, why, why, why, which, gu, gu, gu, gu, Gods fool
She was bo-bo-bo-bo-born at the barn yonder,
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 he says; how long Has she been here?

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

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

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

Hub. Farewell friend,—
It will be worth return, to search: Come,
Protect us our disguise now, pre'thee Hemskirk
If we be taken, how do'st thou imagine
This town will use us, that hath stood so long
Out against Wolfort?

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

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

SCENA II.

Enter Goswin.

Gos. Still blow'st thou there? and from all other parts,
Do all my agents sleep, that nothing comes?
There's a conspiracy of windes, and servants,
If not of Elements, to ha' me break;
What should I think unless the Seas, and Sands
Had swallow'd up my ships? or fire had spoil'd
My ware-houses? or death devour'd my Factors?
I must ha' had some returns.

Enter Merchants.

1 Mer. 'Save you Sir.

Gos. 'Save you.

1 Mer. No news yet o' your Ships?

Gos. Not any yet Sir.

1 Mer. 'Tis strange. [Exit.

Gos. 'Tis true Sir: what a voyce was here now? This was one passing bell, a thousand ravens Sung in that man now, to presage my ruins.

2 Mer. Goswin, good day, these winds are very constant.

Gos. They are so Sir; to hurt—

2 Mer. Ha' you had no letters Lately from England, nor from Denmark?

Gos. Neither.

2 Mer. This wind brings them; nor no news over land, Through Spain, from the Straights?

Gos. Not any.

2 Mer. I am sorry Sir. [Exit.

Gos. They talk me down: and as 'tis said of Vulturs
They scent a field fought, and do smell the carkasses
By many hundred miles: So do these, my wracks
At greater distances. Why, thy will Heaven
Come on, and be: yet if thou please, preserve me;
But in my own adventure, here at home,
Of my chast love, to keep me worthy of her,
It shall be put in scale 'gainst all ill fortunes:
I am not broken yet: nor should I fall,
Me thinks with less than that, that ruins all. [Exit.

SCENA III.

Enter Van-dunck, Hubert, Hemskirk, and Margaret, Boors.

Van. Captain, you are welcom; so is this your friend
Most safely welcom, though our Town stand out
Against your Master, you shall find good quarter:
The troth is, we not love him: Margaret some wine,
Let's talk a little treason, if we can
Talk treason, 'gainst the traitors; by your leave, Gentlemen,
We, here in Bruges, think he do's usurp,
And therefore I am bold with him.

Hub. Sir, your boldness
Happily becomes your mouth, but not our ears,
While we are his servants; And as we come here,
Not to ask questions, walk forth on your walls,
Visit your courts of guard, view your munition,
Ask of your corn-provisions, nor enquire
Into the least, as spies upon your strengths,
So let's entreat, we may receive from you
Nothing in passage or discourse, but what
We may with gladness, and our honesties here,
And that shall seal our welcom.

Van. Good: let's drink then, Fill out, I keep mine old pearl still Captain.

Marg. I hang fast man.

Hen. Old Jewels commend their keeper, Sir.

Van. Here's to you with a heart, my Captains friend,
With a good heart, and if this make us speak
Bold words, anon, 'tis all under the Rose
Forgotten: drown all memory, when we drink.

Hub. 'Tis freely spoken noble Burgomaster, I'le do you right.

Hem. Nay Sir mine heer Van-dunck Is a true Statesman.

Van. Fill my Captains cup there, O that your Master Wolfort Had been an honest man.

Hub. Sir?

Van. Under the Rose.

Hem. Here's to you Marget.

Marg. Welcome, welcome Captain.

Van. Well said my pearl still.

Hem. And how does my Niece?
Almost a Woman, I think? This friend of mine,
I drew along w[i]th me, through so much hazard,
Only to see her: she was my errand.

Van. I, a kind Uncle you are (fill him his glass) That in seven years, could not find leisure—

Hem. No, It's not so much.

Van. I'le bate you ne'r an hour on't,
It was before the Brabander 'gan his War,
For moon-shine, i'the water there, his Daughter
That never was lost: yet you could not find time
To see a Kinswoman; but she is worth the seeing, Sir,
Now you are come, you ask if she were a Woman?
She is a Woman, Sir, fetch her forth Marget. [Exit Marg.
And a fine Woman, and has Suitors.

Hem. How? What Suitors are they?

Van. Bachellors; young Burgers: And one, a Gallant, the young Prince of Merchants We call him here in Bruges.

Hem. How? a Merchant?
I thought, Vandunke, you had understood me better,
And my Niece too, so trusted to you by me,
Than t'admit of such in name of Suitors.

Van. Such? he is such a such, as were she mine I'd give him thirty thousand crowns with her.

Hem. But the same things, Sir, fit not you and me. [Ex.

Van. Why, give's some wine, then; this will fit us all:
Here's to you still, my Captains friend: All out:
And still, would Wolfort were an honest man,
Under the Rose, I speak it: but this Merchant
Is a brave boy: he lives so, i'the Town here,
We know not what to think on him: at some times
We fear he will be Bankrupt; he do's stretch
Tenter his credit so; embraces all,
And to't, the winds have been contrary long.
But then, if he should have all his returns,
We think he would be a King, and are half sure on't.
Your Master is a Traitor, for all this,
Under the Rose: Here's to you; and usurps
The Earldom from a better man.

Hub. I marry, Sir, Where is that man?

Van. Nay soft: and I could tell you
'Tis ten to one I would not: here's my hand,
I love not Wolfort: sit you still, with that:
Here comes my Captain again, and his fine Niece,
And there's my Merchant; view him well: fill wine here.

Enter Hemskirk, Gertrude, and Goswin.

Hem. You must not only know me for your Uncle
Now, but obey me: you, go cast your self
Away, upon a Dunghil here? a Merchant?
A petty fellow? one that makes his Trade
With Oaths and perjuries?

Gos. What is that you say, Sir? If it be me you speak of, as your eye Seems to direct, I wish you would speak to me, Sir.

Hem. Sir, I do say, she is no Merchandize, Will that suffice you?

Gos. Merchandize good Sir?
Though ye be Kinsman to her, take no leave thence
To use me with contempt: I ever thought
Your Niece above all price.

Hem. And do so still, Sir, I assure you, her rates are more than you are worth.

Gos. You do not know, what a Gentleman's worth, Sir, Nor can you value him.

H[u]b. Well said Merchant.

Van. Nay, Let him alone, and ply your matter.

Hem. A Gentleman?
What o'the Wool-pack? or the Sugar-chest?
Or lists of Velvet? which is't pound, or yard,
You vent your Gentry by?

Hub. O Hemskirk, fye.

Van. Come, do not mind 'em, drink, he is no Wolfort, Captain, I advise you.

Hem. Alas, my pretty man,
I think't be angry, by its look: Come hither,
Turn this way, a little: if it were the blood
Of Charlemaine, as't may (for ought I know)
Be some good Botchers issue, here in Bruges.

Gos. How?

Hem. Nay: I'me not certain of that; of this I am, If it once buy, and sell, its Gentry is gone.

Gos. Ha, ha.

Hem. You are angry, though ye laugh.

Gos. No, now 'tis pity
Of your poor argument. Do not you, the Lords
Of Land (if you be any) sell the grass,
The Corn, the Straw, the Milk, the Cheese?

Van. And Butter: Remember Butter; do not leave out Butter.

Gos. The Beefs and Muttons that your grounds are stor'd with? Swine, with the very mast, beside the Woods?

Hem. No, for those sordid uses we have Tenants, Or else our Bailiffs.

Gos. Have not we, Sir, Chap-men,
And Factors, then to answer these? your honour
Fetch'd from the Heralds ABC, and said over
With your Court faces, once an hour, shall never
Make me mistake my self. Do not your Lawyers
Sell all their practice, as your Priests their prayers?
What is not bought, and sold? The company
That you had last, what had you for't, i'faith?

Hem. You now grow sawcy.

Gos. Sure I have been bred Still, with my honest liberty, and must use it.

Hem. Upon your equals then.

Gos. Sir, he that will Provoke me first, doth make himself my equal.

Hem. Do ye hear? no more.

Gos. Yes, Sir, this little, I pray you,
And't shall be aside, then after, as you please.
You appear the Uncle, Sir, to her I love
More than mine eyes; and I have heard your scorns
With so much scoffing, and so much shame,
As each strive which is greater: But, believe me,
I suck'd not in this patience with my milk.
Do not presume, because you see me young,
Or cast despights on my profession
For the civility and tameness of it.
A good man bears a contumely worse
Than he would do an injury. Proceed not
To my offence: wrong is not still successful,
Indeed it is not: I would approach your Kins-woman
With all respect, done to your self and her.

Hem. Away Companion: handling her? take that. [Strikes him.

Gos. Nay, I do love no blows, Sir, there's exchange.

Hub. Hold, Sir. (He gets Hemskirks sword and cuts him on the head.

Mar. O murther.

Ger. Help my Goswin.

Mar. Man.

Van. Let 'em alone; my life for one.

Gos. Nay come, If you have will.

Hub. None to offend you, I, Sir.

Gos. He that had, thank himself: not hand her? yes Sir,
And clasp her, and embrace her; and (would she
Now go with me) bear her through all her Race,
Her Father, Brethren, and her Uncles, arm'd,
And all their Nephews, though they stood a wood
Of Pikes, and wall of Canon: kiss me Gertrude,
Quake not, but kiss me.

Van. Kiss him, Girl, I bid you;
My Merchant Royal; fear no Uncles: hang 'em,
Hang up all Uncles: Are not we in Bruges?
Under the Rose here?

Gos. In this circle, Love, Thou art as safe, as in a Tower of Brass; Let such as do wrong, fear.

Van. I, that's good, Let Wolfort look to that.

Gos. Sir, here she stands,
Your Niece, and my beloved. One of these titles
She must apply to; if unto the last,
Not all the anger can be sent unto her,
In frown, or voyce, or other art, shall force her,
Had Hercules a hand in't: Come, my Joy,
Say thou art mine, aloud Love, and profess it.

Van. Doe: and I drink to it.

Gos. Prethee say so, Love.

Ger. 'Twould take away the honour from my blushes: Do not you play the tyrant, sweet: they speak it.

Hem. I thank you niece.

Gos. Sir, thank her for your life, And fetch your sword within.

Hem. You insult too much With your good fortune, Sir. [Exeunt Gos. and Ger.

Hub. A brave clear Spirit; Hemskirk, you were to blame: a civil habit Oft covers a good man: and you may meet In person of a Merchant, with a soul As resolute, and free, and all wayes worthy, As else in any file of man-kind: pray you, What meant you so to slight him?

Hem. 'Tis done now, Ask no more of it; I must suffer. [Exit Hemskirk.

Hub. This
Is still the punishment of rashness, sorrow.
Well; I must to the woods, for nothing here
Will be got out. There, I may chance to learn
Somewhat to help my enquiries further.

Van. Ha? A Looking-glass?

Hub. How now, brave Burgomaster?

Van. I love no Wolforts, and my name's Vandunk,

Hub. Van drunk it's rather: come, go sleep within.

Van. Earl Florez is right heir, and this same Wolfort Under the Rose I speak it—

Hub. Very hardly.

Van-d. Usurps: and a rank Traitor, as ever breath'd,
And all that do uphold him. Let me goe,
No man shall hold me, that upholds him;
Do you uphold him?

Hub. No.

Van. Then hold me up. [Exeunt.

Enter Goswin, and Hemskirk.

Hem. Sir, I presume, you have a sword of your own, That can so handle anothers.

Gos. Faith you may Sir.

Hem. And ye have made me have so much better thoughts of you As I am bound to call you forth.

Gos. For what Sir?

Hem. To the repairing of mine honour, and hurt here.

Gos. Express your way.

Hem. By fight, and speedily.

Gos. You have your will: Require you any more?

Hem. That you be secret: and come single.

Gos. I will.

Hem. As you are the Gentleman you would be thought.

Gos. Without the Conjuration: and I'le bring Only my sword, which I will fit to yours, I'le take his length within.

Hem. Your place now Sir?

Gos. By the Sand-hills.

Hem. Sir, nearer to the woods, If you thought so, were fitter.

Gos. There, then.

Hem. Good. Your time?

Gos. 'Twixt seven and eight.

Hem. You'l give me Sir Cause to report you worthy of my Niece, If you come, like your promise.

Gos. If I do not, Let no man think to call me unworthy first, I'le do't my self, and justly wish to want her.— [Exeunt.

ACTUS TERTIUS. SCENA PRIMA.

Enter three or four Boors.

1 B. Come, English beer Hostess, English beer by th' belly.

2 B. Stark beer boy, stout and strong beer: so, sit down Lads, And drink me upsey-Dutch: Frolick, and fear not.

Enter Higgen like a Sow-gelder, singing.

Hig. Have ye any work for the Sow-gelder, hoa,
My horn goes too high too low, too high too low.
Have ye any Piggs, Calves, or Colts,
Have ye any Lambs in your holts
To cut for the Stone,
Here comes a cunning one.
Have ye any braches to spade,
Or e're a fair maid
That would be a Nun,
Come kiss me, 'tis done.
Hark how my merry horn doth blow,
Too high too low, too high too low.

1 B. O excellent! two-pence a piece boyes, two-pence a piece. Give the boys some drink there. Piper, wet your whistle, Canst tell me a way now, how to cut off my wifes Concupiscence?

Hig. I'le sing ye a Song for't.

The SONG.

Take her, and hug her,
And turn her and tug her,
And turn her again boy, again,
Then if she mumble,
Or if her tail tumble,
Kiss her amain hoy, amain.
Do thy endeavour,
To take off her feaver,
Then her disease no longer will raign.
If nothing will serve her,
Then thus to preserve her,
Swinge her amain boy amain.
Give her cold jelly
To take up her belly,
And once a day swinge her again,
If she stand all these pains,
Then knock out her brains,
Her disease no longer will reign.

1 Bo. More excellent, more excellent, sweet Sow-gelder.

2 Bo. Three-pence a piece, three-pence a piece.

Hig. Will you hear a Song how the Devil was gelded?

3 Bo. I, I, let's hear the Devil roar, Sow-gelder.

SONG.

             1.
_He ran at me first in the shape of a Ram,
And over and over the Sow-Gelder came;
I rise and I halter'd him fast by the horn,
I pluckt out his Stones as you'd pick out a Corn.
Baa, quoth the Devil, and forth he slunk,
And left us a Carcase of Mutton that stunk.

             2.
The next time I rode a good mile and a half,
Where I heard he did live in disguise of a Calf,
I bound and I gelt him, ere he did any evil;
He was here at his best, but a sucking Devil.
Maa, yet he cry'd, and forth he did steal,
And this was sold after, for excellent Veal.

             3.
Some half a year after in the form of a Pig,
I met with the Rogue, and he look'd very big;
I catch'd at his leg, laid him down on a log,
Ere a man could fart twice, I had made him a Hog.
Owgh, quoth the Devil, and forth gave a Jerk,
That a Jew was converted, and eat of the Perk._

1 Bo. Groats apiece, Groats apiece, Groats apiece, There sweet Sow-Gelder.

Enter Prig and Ferret.

Prig. Will ye see any feats of activity, Some Sleight of hand, Legerdemain? hey pass, Presto, be gone there?

2 Bo. Sit down Jugler.

Prig. Sirrah, play you your art well; draw near Piper:
Look you, my honest friends, you see my hands;
Plain dealing is no Devil: lend me some Money,
Twelve-pence a piece will serve.

1. 2. B. There, there.

Prig. I thank you, Thank ye heartily: when shall I pay ye?

All B. Ha, ha, ha, by th' Mass this was a fine trick.

Prig. A merry sleight toy: but now I'll show your Worships A trick indeed.

Hig. Mark him well now my Masters.

Prig. Here are three balls, These balls shall be three bullets, One, two, and three: ascentibus, malentibus.

Presto, be gone: they are vanish'd: fair play, Gentlemen. Now these three, like three Bullets, from your three Noses Will I pluck presently: fear not, no harm Boys,

Titere, tu patule.

1 B. Oh, oh, oh.

Prig. Recubans sub jermlne fagi.

2 B. Ye pull too hard; ye pull too hard.

Prig. Stand fair then: Silvertramtrim-tram.

3 B. Hold, hold, hold.

Prig. Come aloft, bullets three, with a whim-wham. Have ye their Moneys?

Hig. Yes, yes.

1 B. Oh rare Jugler!

2 B. Oh admirable Jugler!

Prig. One trick more yet;
Hey, come aloft; sa, sa, flim, flum, taradumbis?
East, West, North, South, now fly like Jack with a bumbis.
Now all your money's gone; pray search your pockets.

1 B. Humh.

2 B. He.

3 B. The Devil a penny's here!

Prig. This was a rare trick.

1 B. But 'twould be a far rarer to restore it.

Prig. I'll do ye that too; look upon me earnestly, And move not any ways your eyes from this place, This Button here? pow, whir, whiss, shake your pockets.

1 B. By th' Mass 'tis here again, boys.

Prig. Rest ye merry; My first trick has paid me.

All B. I, take it, take it, And take some drink too.

Prig. Not a drop now I thank you; Away, we are discover'd else. [Exit.

Enter Gerrard like a blind Aqua vitae man, and a Boy, singing the Song.

Bring out your Cony-skins, fair maids to me,
And hold 'em fair that I may see;
Grey, black, and blue: for your smaller skins,
I'll give ye looking-glasses, pins:
And for your whole Coney, here's ready, ready Money.
Come Gentle Jone, do thou begin
With thy black, black, black Coney-skin.
And Mary then, and Jane will follow,
With their silver hair'd skins, and their yellow.
The white Cony-skin, I will not lay by,
For though it be faint, 'tis fair to the eye;
The grey, it is warm, but yet for my Money,
Give me the bonny, bonny black Cony.
Come away fair Maids, your skins will decay:
Come, and take money, maids, put your ware away.
Cony-skins, Cony-skins, have ye any Cony-skins,
I have fine bracelets, and fine silver pins.

Ger. Buy any Brand Wine, buy any Brand Wine?

Boy. Have ye any Cony-skins?

2 [B.] My fine Canary-bird, there's a Cake for thy Worship.

1 B. Come fill, fill, fill, fill suddenly: let's see Sir, What's this?

Ger. A penny, Sir.

1 B. Fill till't be six-pence, And there's my Pig.

Boy. This is a Counter, Sir.

1 B. A Counter! stay ye, what are these then? O execrable Jugler! O dama'd Jugler! Look in your hose, hoa, this comes of looking forward.

3 B. Devil a Dunkirk! what a Rogue's this Jugler! This hey pass, repass, h'as repast us sweetly.

2 B. Do ye call these tricks.

Enter Higgen.

Hig. Have ye any Ends of Gold, or Silver?

2 B. This Fellow comes to mock us; Gold or Silver? cry Copper.

1 B. Yes, my good Friend, We have e'n an end of all we have.

Hig. 'Tis well Sir, You have the less to care for: Gold and Silver. [Exit.

Enter Prigg.

Pr. Have ye any old Cloaks to sell, have ye any old Cloaks to sell? [Exit.

1 B. Cloaks! Look about ye Boys: mine's gone!

2 B. A ——— juggle 'em? ——— O they're Prestoes: mine's gone too!

3 B. Here's mine yet.

1 B. Come, come let's drink then more Brand Wine.

Boy. Here Sir.

1 B. If e'r I catch your Sow-gelder, by this hand I'll strip him: Were ever Fools so ferkt? We have two Cloaks yet; And all our Caps; the Devil take the Flincher.

All B. Yaw, yaw, yaw, yaw.

Enter Hemskirk.

Hem. Good do'n my honest Fellows, You are merry here I see.

3 B. 'Tis all we have left, Sir.

Hem. What hast thou? Aqua vitae?