Читать книгу Beggars Bush: A Comedy - Beaumont Francis - Страница 4

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._

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.

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.

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.

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.

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