ACT I.

[Page]

My Lord, my Noble Lord, I am sorry for your weak estate, I hope for all this to see you up again, here's 4 poor Creatures of us; amongst the rest I am Luce your poor Landress, that have washt you, and trim'd you, and starch't you, and as I have done for you, I have done my part with all your company, heres my Bill, I pray see me crost.

[Page]

Oh good Noble man! that ever, that ever I should see thee thus down, adown!

Your poor Vitler Sir, where your Lordships men went o'th' ticket.

Sirrah Iack.

What sayest thou Franck.

How you base Rogue, nere an ( M.) under your Gidle, have I preferr'd thee to my good Lord Cardinal here, and am I no better than your homesome Franck.

Canbee, let me nere take purse again, and I think not, but thou and this Tom Tawny coat here gull me, make me your cheat, your gull, your strowd, your Norfolk Dumpling, whom when you cheated him of his sattin-suite, left naked bed to the mercy of his hostess.

And I damb thee not for thy unbelief. Call Canbee Coward think'st thou) I wo'd have lost this evenings work, but for my Noble, my Princely Lord Cardinal? no.

[Page]

That's some reason indeed, but Prince and Cardinal if thou be, Iack-Hadland swears by the bawl'd Crown of King Carni­fax the meeting thy greatness this evening has dampnified our re­ceipts at least six purses.

My Lord, and ye were able to give him as much Land as would lie between Winchester and Walsingham, he wo'd be your prigger, your prancer, your high-lawyer, your—

Your nipper, your foyst, your rogue, your cheat, your pan­der, your any vild thing that may be, sblud the worst that any man can say of me is, that I am a tall Theef, and the best that any man can say of thee is, that thou art a base Rogue and a Cheater.

I'll jerk ye for this ye slave.

Cardinal, wert thou Cardinal King of the Infernals, were thou Prince of Grim-tarter-tarmagant and Erebus, I wo'd not shed one drop of the worst Dogs blood my Duke of Gloster keeps, for thy miter, thy million, thy metropolis, shall I betray his life that sav'd me from the death of a Dog? no. Yet for my honest friend Franck Canbees sake, I am content to stand by, and give aym at this time.

See where he comes two of ye are enough to deal with one, I'll not meddle with him.

Canbee come not near me, thou knowest my antient order▪ They die that dare me: but if thou dare meet me, heark in thine ear, disturb not these honourable personages.

At our Old Hostises mad rogue to make merry, lay a fresh plot to meet the Norfolk gull, and be blithe.

Agreed, and I meet thee not, bafle[?] my good name, & chronicle Canbee for a Coward, my Lord I will have a limbe of that Rogue.

ACT II.

Nay barlady Sir this toy has mock'd as well-favour'd a Youth, as your own Son.

Hold ye, there's ten pound, go fetch him new cloaths.

Nay Sir he wants no cloaths, for he hath a Cloak laid on with gold lace, and an imbroidred Ierkin, and thus he is marching hither like the fore-man of a Morris.

I'll tell him so, but pray Mr. let me be at the wedding feast.

And there you'll be hoyting and kissing the Wen­ches you.

Not I indeed Master, I never use to kiss any, not I.

You know what complaints was made of you the last wedding you were at.

I thank ye Master ye made me stand in a white sheet for ye-

How for me Knave? go to thou lyest, thou shalt not be there for that lye.

Pray let me go, there will be all the Youth of our Parish there, good Master?

Well Sir, go your way, but let me hear no ill of ye you were best.

[Page] [Page]

London lick penny can ye it,—t'as lick'd me with a [Page] witness, I was set ore for a reckoning of 40 shillings, and as fair a Sattin suite t'other night, as a man shall lightly see in a Summers day; but if ere it be my fortune to meet with that ill fac'd Gypsie that stole it, I'll teach him his teripoop for stealing, whilst he hath a day to live again, so woll I: Nay nothing griev'd me Swash, but that the slave perswaded me to lye naked for fear of the Fleas; which when I had done he stole me away as fair a shirt of my Mothers own spinning, as a man shall need to pull o're his ears: and Sirrah in the morning when mine Hostis came up to call me, I was as naked as your Norfolk-Dumplin, as I am a christen man I blush'd out of all—

Nay Master I told you at first you should find a sower fellow of that Gypsie, I lik'd him not he had such a crabtree-fac'd countenance of his own: but come my old Master sent me for you, you must along to the wedding to—

Why so I say now,—it would make a Horse break his Bridle to see the humours of these fellows, I know no more how to please him than I know how to build up Pauls-steeple, so do not I, but come Swash follow me, I'll to him, the—

Tush man 'tis be, I know him as well as the Beggar knows his dish, 'tis he that I fetch'd over for the sattin suite, and left him in pawn for the reckoning, he has a fair Cloak on's back, and we could get that we were made men.

Be rul'd by me 'tis our own, do thou take the wall of him, if he take exceptions I'll draw; if he draws his Cloak falls down.

And all fallings are mine Sir, let me alone, I know my cue Strowd, thou hadst as good have met the Hangman; for thy upper Garment's mine.

—What is the matter with you? so feather-ey'd ye cannot let us passe in the Kings high way?

You must learn to know your Duty, and give your betters the wall.

My Betters the wall, on what acquaintance? ye shall be set up and ye say the word, I'll wash mine hands and wait on you.

What do you prate, nay then have at you Sir.

—And have at you too then e'faith.

Hold, as you are a Gentleman hold.

[Page]

Hold me no holds, I'll have another bout with ye, or I'll make your sconce and the post ring noon together, and sirrah Gypsie you shall fare the worse for one of your Coats sake, that rob'd me of a sattin suite tother night,—and well remembred where's my Cloak Swash?

Your Cloaks a good Cloak, take the wall of my Master ye slave you.

I think the fellow be mad,—where's my Cloak man.

Your Cloak's good Cloak and a fair Cloak, quarrel with my Mr. ye scabs you.

I think the fellow's frompall, I ask thee where my Cloak is.

Let not a man pass unsearch'd, the Gentleman shall not lose the worth of a mite in my company.

I hope Sir you will not suspect my Boy nor me?

Suspect me no suspects, I am sure my Cloak cannot go without hands, and I'll have it again, or I'll bang it out of the cox­combs of some of them.

—Sir you mishape lyes as near my heart as it had been mine own, and cause I see'you a resolute tall Gentleman, and in re­spect that I was the occasion of this falling out, my Cloak (simpl though it be) cost me 40 French Crowns, take it, it is at your ser­vice.

Forty French Crowns, forty French Pins, what dost thou tell me of thy Cloak? I scorn to wear ere a mans Cloak under the Element but mine own: but I'll tell thee what, and it were not for thy sake, whom I think an honest kind fellow and so forth, I'de bang this Bacon fan'd slave orethwart his shaoks, he should remem­ber stealing a Cloak to Dooms day, so should he.

Why Sir I hope you know no harm by me were it in place, where I'de say, he lyed in his Throat that but touch'd the very hem of my reputation with reproach.

Wol't say I lye? thou hadst as good eat a load of logs wert thou, I [...]ay no harm by thee, and yet I say I have seen an ho­nester face than thine hang'd, what sayest thou to it now? and thou beest agrieved mend thy self how thou canst, or how thou darest, dost't see now. Naye Swah yonders my father, say nothing of my Cloak Swash.

Sir you may say your pleasure, is your Son, but thus much I'll assure you, though if he be your on the chiefest Gallants in the Land are enamour'd with his good parts and valour.

—You'd have the Calf with the white face I think, I am sure yonders old Simsons son of Showdam Thorp, that wears his great gall gaskins o'the Swash-fashion, with 8 or 10 gold laces of a side, and yet, without boast be it spoken, you are more in the Kings Books than he. and pay more scot and lot a fair deal, so ye do.

Come hither Swash there is no remedy, I must give the old man good words and speak him fair, for and if he should die to morrow next (as God forbid but he should) he might defeat me of all his Land.

You say true Master, come on with this Jerkin, so now young Master you look like your self, and like my Masters son.

Son what are these that keep you company?

A couple of honest proper Gentlemen they seem to be, but alls one to you, I must keep company with none but a sort of Momes and Hoydons that know not chalk from cheese, and can talk of nothing but how they sell a score of Cow-hides at Lynmarte, and what price Pease and Barley bears at Thetford market.

Then still consort thee with these Gentlemen, I like the carriage of them passing well.

I a murren on em they they have carried away my Cloak amongst 'em.

But let that pass.

I Sir 'tis past and gon too.

Oh Sir at my sweet Boss the Broakers, neer fear it there's a sure Dandeno, she cuts it out in Hose and Jerkins, she is an honest dealer, your privy taker, and your sure concealer.

I thank you Sir, I am easier to be acquainted with all, than to borrow mony on, I thank my father, but and it please you to drink a Cup of beer or ale, and you'le but walk 'ore the Green to the red lattice yonder, I'le bestow it on you.

[Page]

Pray lead the way, I'le follow you come hither Swash▪ and it had pleas'd my Father, I might a had as gallant apparell as he, or another man, but all's one, a dog has his day, and I shall have mine too, one day when the old man's dead;—I'le make all flye then e'faith.

My Father kill a man,—here's a jest to mock an Ape withall, what shall become of me now: Swash hie thee to Chenford for the 100 pound, and soon towards Evening Il'e meet thee at Il­ford for fear of base Knaves;—I know not whom a man may trust when ones own Father does deceive 'em thus.

Get a reprieval call you it,—I know no more how to go about it, than I know how to build Pauls-steeple so I do not: but I'le go seek out a Gentleman, one Franck Canby that served the Car­dinall, and try what he can do in it; it's an old saying in our Coun­try, it's better to have a friend at Court than a peny in the purse, it shall go hard but I'le save my father from hanging thats cer­tain.

ACT III.

[Page]

This damb'd perpetual Rogue Swash, has kept me here in little ease of the bare ground, hungry, cold, and comfortless, ever since two hours afore day. I am hungry for the hundred pound he brings, cold at my heart for fear he come without it, and com­fortless least if he have it, he comes with company, but lupus in fa­bula here he comes, what and alone! excellent the 100 l. myne own then.

I discover none, the danger is past, I think I may with safety put up an honest weapon, thou terror to all Theeves, sleep there; my young Master promised to meet me, he stayes somewhat long, but he knows Swash is able to stand under the strokes of a dozen false slaves, oh that I could meet with a Theef now to try my valour.

Stand sirrah and deliver.

Oh Lord, Theeves, theeves, oh, oh.

Peace Villain, or I'le cut out thy Tongue, and make a ra­sher of the coals on't, deliver the mony.

Yes good Mr. Theef with all my heart, there 'tis I am glad I had it for you.

So am I too Sir, come hold up I must now bind you hand and foot for running after me.

I pray you do bind me hard, do good Mr. Theef, harder yet Sir.

So now farewell, your mony goes with me Sir.

Farewell kind Mr. Theef. O pox choke him for a slave, Theeves, theeves, theeves, help, help, help.

Sirrah Snip be sure you run away with Strowd's sword

I warrant you Sir let me alone for running.

Theeves, theeves, help, help.

How theeves, I'le go, and raise the town Sir, theeves, theeves.

How Theeves,—where's Snip run with my sword? who's that cries Theeves Swash, how now man come stand to it.

Yes Sir, I am bound to it.

[Page]

Why what's the matter Swash, how cam'st thou thus, ha.

I am rob'd Master.

How rob'd, I hope not so man!

Yes faith there was six Theeves set upon me, I very man­fully kill'd seven of the six, and the rest carried away the mony, but I shall have it again that's the best on't.

How dost thou know thou shalt ha't again Swash?

Why he has left me his bond here to bring it again.

There's a bond with a Halters name,— Swash is all the mony gone?

Every peny Master.

What ill fortune is that Swash, what shall we do now trow.

Theeves, theeves, come good Mr. Canby make hast, this way, this way.

Theeves, where Boy? I am almost out of breath with run­ring, what Mr. Strowd and Swash how comes this.

Why Swash is rob'd man!

How rob'd?

Yes faith, but I may thank Snip there that run away with my sword.

Rob'd, I wod I had been with thee Swash.

I honest Mr. Canbee, and you had been with me I had scaped well enough then.

Well Mr. Strowd, as I was passing through Allgate this morning I saw the Shreeves and Constables set towards to New­gate to fetch your father, the Carpenter in a Cart carried the Jeb­bet to Bednall-Green, only love to meet you made me neglect the principal business, here's the Protectors Reprieve, I have done the part of a Gentleman, here's Humphry Gloster good Noble man, he loved your Father well, let not your delay dash all, I was two hours by the clock of my bare Knees to the Protector, pray'd the equity of the quarrel, and could Westfords body a been found, the Pardon had been sealed: but haste away with the Repreeve, take horse at Langton, and make speed, or your father will be hang­ed.

[Page]

How take horse quoth ye, yes, the Cat would lick her ears and she had 'em, why, I was rob'd too last night my self at Lang­ton.

Were you rob'd Mr. Strowd?

Yes faith, they make a matter of nothing to rob Swash and I now adayes, I have not a horse to cast at a dog man not I.

Apox of all ill fortunes, hold Sir, there's five shillings left take it, and go take my horse at the Bell at Stratford, and make hast for fear you come too late.

Troth Mr. Canbee, and ye gave me all that ere ye had, I can but thank you, and your horse were a horse of gold, he shall be forth-comming again. Come Swash let us go.

Mr. Canbee no more but so for this kindness, farewell Mr. Hadland, farewell Snip, pray let's see ye all at the Gallows, till when I bequeath this halter amongst ye, in token of my love, and so adue.

Farewell Swash and be hang'd.

— Canbee, art thou mad to give him thy horse, and five shillings to save his father from hanging.

No you Friday-fac't-frying pan it was to save us all from whipping, or a worse shame; for let your Rogueship understand, that this reprieve is counterfeit and made by me, your ordinary pasport maker, that should have lost an ear at Salisbury, and ano­ther at Northampton; the truth is we must leave London, for if the Protector get us under his protection, we shall all go Westward for this warrant.

—Let's turn Gypsies again then, and go about a fortune-telling, 'tis in good request again now.

That's the smooth foot path up Holborn, no lack there's an odde fellow snuffels i'the nose, that shows a motion about Bishops­gate, we'le wheel about by Ratliff and get to his lodging, see shews for a fortnight, till Strowd's nine daies wonder of hanging be past, to let us use his motion, which done the boy shall turn girle, thou as I have done already, wash off that Gypsie-colour, and be door­keeper with the boy, my self with a half vizzard will describe, and thus we'le live like young Emperors.

[...]anbee I'le chronicle thee for this conceit. Snip thou shalt have good purchase of the Wenches in the throng.

And if I snip not off their Purses then call me crack.

Hold, hold, hold, let him alone you cross legg'd-harti­choak, touch him and thou dare.

Hold Hangman and thou be'st a man, hold for the Kings advantage.

What are these trow?

Two sir that come not without their cards I hope, Fa­ther you have a simple fellow to your Son you see, come who's the shreeve here haw.

I do supply his place.

Do ye so, then here's a Mittimus to repreeve my father back again to the Gaol, or a repreeval what do you call it, it's my Lord Cardinal's, and my Lord Protectors own hands, and seals; I as­sure you Sir.

Proud Winchesters and mine, that's strange, let's see it.

It is not so strange as true Sir, there it is.

Is this your Son Strowd?

I my gracious Lord.

'Tis the more shame for my Mother else.

Where had you this repreeve?

Of an honest Gentleman Sir, one that can do any rea­sonable matter with my Lord Protector.

I truly Sir he is one, as honest a Gentleman as Can­bee.

I, I that's he Sir, that's he.

[Page]

As God mend me 'tis the very same man, but all's one for that, he has plaid the kind Gentleman with me, and as God save me, and Swash had not been rob'd this morning of 100 pound, I had paid him well for his pains too Sir.

How after my father's death,—I hope it is not come to that now? after all this charge.

Nay pray you my Lord be good to my father, and turn him 'ore the Ladder.

—is this my Lord Erector?

How's that my Lord Protector, and you be my Lord Protector, I pray do but set your hand to this Bill, and as God save me, and ere ye come into Norfolk, I'le do you twenty times as good a turn as the hanging of my father comes to, pray you my Lord.

Do my good Lord Erector, and Swash and his Buckler shall be at your service.

Swash what shall become of me now, I nere dare go down into Norfolk again, every clown will brave me, and bid me go to London, and be hang'd as my father was.

I, and they'll bid Swash swing in an Halter as his old Master did.

Master, here's a blind man come to see your father hang'd.

How a blind man see him hang'd? that were strange in­deed Swash.

What would that aged man, and that fair Maid?

I hope she comes to beg my old Master from the Gal­lows.

No Swash She should have come in her Smock▪ and then

[Page]

It may be it is not clean Master.

Where is he father?

Yonder in my Cottage.

O brave, Master he sayes the Knight's in his God-piece.

No in his Cottage man, thou mistakest.

I marry Swash, here's a good old man, and a goodly Mother, brings news for the nonce,—I wo'd not for all the Bul­locks in Norfolk, th'ad faln out, that my father had faln off.

Yonder he comes Master, come you had like to made a fine piece of work here, are you a Knight and can fight no bet­ter.

Health to my gracious Lord the Duke of Gloster.

Consider her,—I consider well enough, sirrah Swash methinks it is the prettiest Mother that ere man's eyes look't on.

Yes my Lord I'le find him or it shall go hard, vesdiness Swash I am mightily smitten in love with yonder Mother, and I ha not a swelling burning feavour, in every member wo'd I might nere stir, —yonders Mr. Playnsey has all the talk with her, and yet hee's no Batchelar.

Cannot you go and take her away from him, I co'd do it my self Master.

Pish you are no body Master, let me alone I have a device to get him away, and then do you sease upon the Wench: follow me Master.

Oh brave Swash e'faith.

Heark hither Swash, and it had not been for a blemish to the name of the Strowds, wo'd we had made an end of this braw­ling at the Gallows, and then thou should'st a seen whether I wo'd a kept such a coyl for a little pawltry loss or no, I warrant thee he ha not the honesty, to cast thee a Noble towards the healing of thy crack't Crown, yet every one sayes he gave that ill-fac't knave the Hangman five, or six pound.

I that was to buy him a better face Mr. But give him good words, you know the old man is kind enough.

I as any Corssen creature, hee's won with a Apple, and lost again with a nut, but come Swash we'll go seek out those Co­ny-catchers, and ere I catch them,—I'le make them pay soundly all for their roguery.

ACT IV.

HOw's this, shall I see all Norwitch in the corner of a little Chamber? I had as lieve thou hadst told me Charing cross stood in Cheapside, and all one.

And you will not believe me you shall see it your self, 'tis in this house, 'tis called a motion: there's first the Master of the mo­tion, then the Master's Mate, the Mate's Consort, the Consort's Cabin-fellow, the Cabin-fellows Hangby, the Hangby's Man, the Man's Boy, the Boy's Page, the Page's Wench, and all these live upon the motion.

This is old excellent y'faith; come, and I had but one cross in the world to bless me with I'de see it; go you afore Swash and shew me thither.

Do you see you Wench Master? she is Door-keeper, I have given her earnest to enter her soberly, and pass through her quarters at my pleasure.

Is this she? how now pretty Mother? what Gamballs hast ta? canst thou describe them? sen ye?

Not I Sir, the Master of the Motion can Sir.

Go call him out then,—What's he? is he asham'd to shew his face trow? or is it the fashion trow ye? what Gamballs have ye here now? ha?

Why This is Strowd that I fetc'd over with the counterfeit Repreeve, but 'tis no matter, wee'll out-face him. Gentlemen the first conceit you are to see is Tumbling.

Stumbling, What stumbling? I think the fellow be straught.

Sir he means Tumbling, and feats of Activity.

Why man that's as stale as Bancks curtal, there were a sort of Tumblers at Windham fair last week, and they have made that so stale in[?] Norfolk and Suffolk, that every wench is turn'd Tumbler, and ye [Page] ha no better matters ye lose my custome I can tell ye Sirs.

You shall likewise see the famous City of Norwitch, and the stabbing of Iulius Caesar in the French Capitol by a sort of Dutch Mesapotamians.

How the French Capitol! nay I remember Tully's Offi­ces sayes the Capitol that Caesar was stab'd in was at Rome.

Impute the gross mistake to the fault of the Author; you shall likewise see the amorous conceits and Love songs betwixt Cap­tain Pod of Py-corner, and Mrs. Rump of Ram-alley, never descri­bed before.

Good Master let's see Mrs. Rump of Ram-alley.

How? Captain Pod and Mrs. Rump?—I think this snuf­ling slave flouts us; then y'faith let's see the sawing of the Devil with a wooden saw.

Or if it please you shall see a stately combate betwixt Tam­berlayn the Great, and the Duke of Guyso the less, perform'd on the Olympick Hills in France.

France?—Thou speakest all French to me; but off with this snuffling French Mask, and speak in your English voyce, or as God sa me I'll beat thy nostrils as flat as a pancake, or a barly froyes.

Alas Sir, the Gentleman has got a mischance lately, and broke his Brow, that makes him wear a Visard.

Dost tell me on his Brow? what car'd I and he had broke his Neck, I'll have it off; what are you the Master of the Motion?—I am glad I know it; Swash look thee here's Canby that cosen'd me with the false Repreeve.

And here's the slave Snip that ran away with your Sword in a Wenches Petticoat; we'll spoyle your motion now we have ye.

I beseech you good Master Swash.

What Gypsie? are you turn'd Jugler? I'll tickle you.

Heark ye Mr. Strowd.

Mr. Swash as you ever came of a woman—

Let me never come off a woman while I live again if I do not terrifie you, I'll motion you, I'll murther your Tamberlayn and his Coatch-horses, I'll stab your Caesar, I'll ravish your Rump, I'll peper your Pod, I'll powder your Motion, your Norwitch shall down, I am fire, and I'll consume your Motion in a twink­ling.

Do Swash, and let me alone with these till thou come a­gain.

[Page]

Mr. Stro. For mine own part I protest unto you I love you as dear as the heart in my bosom, and protest unto you it went to the very soul of me to hear how that slave Canbee, like a Gypsy, cosen'd you of a sattin suit.

How? how's this, was he the Gypsie that cosen'd me of my suit?

Iack y'are a Gypsie; believe him not Mr. Strowd he has been prov'd perjur'd, the slave will fight with his own Father for a Jack of Beer, and kill a sucking Infant for a pint of Wine, and where he sayes I cosen'd you of your suit, 'twas his damn'd counsell that Swash was rob'd yesterday of the 100 l.

Mr. Strowd, by this hollow tooth that shall tear that slaves Nose like a piece of Swines flesh, 'twas he that rob'd him, and coun­terfeited the Repreeve; indeed I must confess I had my share; some I have spent, the rest is here, take it Mr. Strowd, and think of honest Iack Hadland as he deserves.

I must give him some to; Mr. Strowd there's 20 l. towards your losses, because I would not have my reputation come in questi­on afore the Protector, nor seem to stain my Lord Cardinal's cloath; there should be an old Harry Angel amongst it, lend it me to swear by a little.

Not one of them and there were a hundred of 'em.

Let me be torn into mammocks with wilde Bears if I make not a gallemaufry of thy heart, and keep thy Skull for my quaffing bowl you base cheating Slave.

—Here's the old Proverb right, When false Theeves fall out, true men come to their own; but say I should take this 40 l. in part of payment, what security shall I have to get the rest? for my Father has vow'd nere to take me for his Son, till I get his mony again, or see you at the Gallows.

Are you faln out with your father? fall in with us helter shelter, you shall fare no worse than we do.

—Man, what wouldst thou have me to turn Cony­catcher?

Oh Sir, your only bravest life that can be.

—I think it were not amiss, for I ha seen Wheat and Barley grow amongst cockell and darnell, and many an honest man keep Knaves company; How now Swash, what hast thou done?

I have confounded their Motion, beleaguer'd their [Page] Castle, batter'd down the Walls, and taken Tamberlayn the blood▪ Prisoner in a pursute, to the utter undoing of all Motion-Monger and Puppit-players.

'Tis well done Swash, but wotts thou what man? I am turn'd Cony-catcher since thou wentst.

Cony-catcher? the Devill you are?

Yes y'faith Swash, and if thou wou't do one thing for me now, I'll teach thee to conycatch too when I come into Nor­folk.

On that condition Master I'll do it what ere it be.

Do but go thy waies to Mile-end-Green to my fathers lodging at the 3 Colts, & do but tell him I cannot find these fellows yet, but as soon as I do meet with them, tell him he shal hear from me.

Yes Sir, I'll go tell him you are with 'em, but you bid me say you could not find 'em.

—By no means Swash, then thou marr'st all, tell him I cannot find 'em, make a lye for me now, I'll make two for thee ano­ther time.

Well on this condition you'll teach me to cony, I am content to lye for you.

Do so; Now Sirs, what course will you take, that I may come by the rest of my mony?

Tush we have 100 l. tricks when we want cash one a­mongst us undertakes the name and habit of some swashing Italian or French Noble-man at least, the rest in Liveries attending, then we come and sojourn at some honest Gentlemans house, till we have eat him out of house and home in diet, and wore his credit out at elbows with taking up commodities at his Merchants, in hope to have all his mony at a day, before which day we give him the slip, and to escape pursute attire our selves like Gypsies, Pedlars, Tin­kers, or such like disguise; how like you this?

This is old excellent y'faith; well I see I might a kept company with honest men all the daies a my life ere I should a learn'd half this Knavery: but heark my Masters, yonder's the Blind-Beggar of Bednall-Green has the prettiest Mother to his Daughter as a man need to lay his leg over, now if all the wit in your heads can but get her to be my wife, I sho'd think my mony every penny better bestowed than other.

You shall have Sir her.

Shall, why well said; come then my mad Viragoes I [Page] have spent many a gray groat of honest swaggerers, and tear-Plackets in my daies that I never drunk for, and now I'll turn swag­gerer my self, I'll keep you company and't be but to keep you ho­nest, true men I cannot, for there's nere a finger on your hands but is as bad as a lime twig, I'll do my good will, and I can bring ye to any goodness, then say God a mercy honest Tom Strowd of Har­ling.

Thou shalt be our chief Captain amongst us.

How your Captain?—I'll make all split then, come my hearts.

Dare you trust Strowd in this same stratagem?

Tush fear him not, since his father hath given him over, he hath given o're all honesty and lives upon the spoyl; come ye mad Rogues here's three of us, and here's 30 l. each man take his share, and with his share his charge; We are all for this mony to cut the throat of the Blind-beggar, his Brother, and his Daughter.

How? cut their Throats?—I'll see ye hang'd first.

Iack thou and I will keep quarter at this end of the Green, and Waylay the old spruce Serving man, he shall be our share, and Tom Strowd thou shalt ly at this corner for the wench, for this way she comes unto the Conduit-head for water, she falls to thee.

And fall thou to her, and ye can but agree of price.

Nay let me alone for falling upon the Wench I warrant ye.

Mr. Playnsey and Sir Robert do you keep about the old Mans Cottage, and when you see his Daughter gone knock out his Brains with his Crutches; thus have you heard your several char­ges; every man to his Court of Guard, and keep fair quar­ter.

Do so, and I do not deceive you let me dye like a Dog on a Pitch-fork;—This is excellent, hire me to steal away the Wench I am in love withall my self, this comes just in the nick yfaith, I desire no more, but to meet her. Whose yonder Swash? how now? whither away so fast Swash ha?

What my young Master? why I am going to the three Colts to saddle your Fathers Gelding; we both ride into Norfolk this afternoon.

—Better and better still, thou com'st as fit for the pur­pose as a Pudding for a Fryers mouth, so dost thou: I do but stay here to talk 3 or 4 cold words in hugger-mugger with the Blind-beggars Daughter, and I'll ride down into Norfolk with you; and as God wo'd ha't, yonder comes the Mother.

To her Master; 'tis an old saying in our Country, Long Standers are but short Doers, Wenches cannot away with them.

Mass Swash I think thou sayst true; I'll to her, How now pretty Mother, whither are you going so fast?

You are no hostess for me, fie, fie, I am ashamed of you.

I marry Swash, and I were there once I'de do well e­nough: but pray thee let me alone, I'll talk to her well enough I warrant thee; this is to the purpose, VVench you know young Mr. Playnsey?

Fie, fie, what have you to do with Playnsey? come to your own business; as thus you must come upon her, Oh Lady bright, pity this Knight, that in this plight is thus tormented, if you be willing, to be billing, I dare hold a shilling you shall be con­tented.

I marry Swash, this is excellent yfaith; could'st not thou a taught me this? but all's one Swash, I'll win her without these Ballads I warrant you; VVell wench, to come to the point, there's young Playnsey loves you well, and he has hired me to watch for thee here, and carry thee to his Farm house at Rede­riff, where if he find thee, soon at night thou art like to lose thy Maiden-head afore morning.

Shee begins to yield Master, give her not o're, to her a­gain Master.

I warrant thee Swash now I am in let me alone. VVell VVench, this is the plain English on't, and thou lovest me no worse than I love thee, instead of carrying thee to his Farm-house at Re­deriff, I'll ha thee to the Church and mary thee, and of a poor Beggar, Daughter, I'll make thee a wealthy Norfolk Yeomans [Page] wife; what sayest thou to it now sen ye?

Lay thee Swash, I must go into her Cot-house she says; Well VVench, and thou wot not go with me, thou art ne're like to see thy Father, nor his Shed more, for Mr. Playnsey and Sir Robert Westford has hired a couple of false Knaves to cut thy fa­thers throat, therefore and thou canst love me, say, and hold, go thou with Swash and raise the Town, and I'll go back and save thy Father's life I warrant thee.

I'll go with ye, love ye, I'll do any thing so thou wilt save my aged Fathers life.

—Let me be hang'd like a Dog and I do not; Swash go you with her and raise the Town, I'll but cross o're the Sum­mer lay by the Broom field o're goodman Dawson's Close and be with you presently;—whither art thou going? thou dost not hear me.

Yes, yes, I must go by the Broom-field, I hear you Sir, come VVench come.

Nay since you are so forward hold, take you the Pit­cher, I'll go with her my self,—I wod not for any thing but I had turn'd Cony-catcher, here had been a black day with some body else; come VVench, dry thine eyes, never cry for the matter, the worst is past, thou shalt see the case altered I warrant thee, I'll save thy Father's life fear not.

Oh, oh, oh, I carry the Pitcher I there let it lye, I'll after them.

—I am hurt.

Hold, and thou com'st of the noble blood of the Trojans hold.

I scorn to make my state known to e're a prowling Beggar on ye all, we know your Brother has Gold, and 'tis that we come for.

And we'll ha't or dye for't.

Murther, help, help.

Sir Robert, as you are a Knight lay hold upon one, who was have con [...]ent to rob us in the Kings high way, but would likewise ho [...] taken away our lives.

What do ye brave us? set upon the slave.

What is he gone? how did he scape our hands?

—I know not, I had a full blow at his left leg, I had thought I had cut it off.

Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, Canbee! I Pray Heaven keep the old man from killing ere I come, and I care not.

[Page]

What Tom Strowd? well met, where's the Wench? is she safe?

Safe [...] Dost thou make a question on't? I warrant she is safe enough for telling any more tales, I am no Bunglar ab [...]ut a VVench: but where's the Blind-beggar and his Brother?

The Beggar is a Devil, and his Brother his familiar; here's old Madge has bit off 100 and 50 Legs and Arms in her daies, and yet she could not so much as draw blood of him, hee's Musket-proof, or he had dyed for't else.

—Touch him he that dares; as God sa' me I'll be his Priest that toucheth but a hair of him?

Strowd, I hope you do but jest with us.

Jest me no jests shall ne're be said, Tom Strowd of Har­ling stood by and saw a Blind-man murthered, therefore courage old Father, set thy back to mine, and cover thy head with thy Crut­ches; I'll take up my lodging on Gods dear ground, er'e thou shalt take any harm, for the pretty Mother thy Daughters sake.

VVhy I thank you Father, and I forgive you too withall my heart.

Faith Sir, 'tis a common saying in our Country, You shall know by the Market-folks how the Market goes; and none knows their Knavery better than I that was one of their com­pany. Father do you see those two fellows there?

I son, what of them?

Why these were they that cosen'd me of my sattin sute, and with the false Repreeve that had like to a hang'd you, and rob'd Swash of the 100 l. too.

What these Gentlemen?

Gentlemen! as God mend me, a couple of as arrant Co­ny-catchers as e're pist▪

[Page]

Is't possible Son?

Push, you are a Fool Father, you know nothing, I have paid for my learning; and falling into their company in hope to get some satisfaction for all my losses; it was my chance to be by when Sir Robert Westford and Mr. Playnsey there gave them 30 l. to murder the Blind-beggar, his Brother, and his Daughter: but by my means the Beggar and his Daughter are alive, but what's be­come of his Brother I know not; this, as I am Tom Strowd of Har­ling, and a true-hearted Norfolk-man, I'll justifie against one, two, three, or the whole pack of 'em, when, where, or how they dare, for the very ears and guts of 'em all.

Strowd, y'are a Nit, a Slave, and a Pessant.

How a Fessant?—I scorn to soyl my hands about thee: but and I had thee alone, with a tough Ashen Gibbet in my hand, and I did not dry bang ye all one after another, I'de eat no meat but Mustard; sen ye?

Strowd have a care you speak nought but truth.

And speak the truth Boy as thou art my Son.

And I do not I'll give you leave to call me Cut, sen ye?

I is the wind ei' that door, I'll take up thy Glove: but—and I bang not thy Coxcomb, hang me la.

Courage sa' ye? as God mend me, I respect them no more than I do a flap with a Fox tayl, and I do not beat'em as ye sho'd cuyle a side of dry'd Stock-fish, I'll be bound to go to Rome with a Morter a my head.

Why well said my Son, let's away.

But heark ye Father; you know I am to go amongst the Court-nowles, you must needs let me have good store of mony with me, let not the name of STROWDS be disgrac'd, I pray Fa­ther.

Tush Boy, fear not, I'll carry 500 l. with me, and that shall fly ere thou want.

—And I'll bring some of my own too, or it shall go hard.

ACT V.

[Page] [Page]

—Then I can hold my tongue no longer, it's an arrant lye my Lord, that's the plain English on't: for I was by when Sir Robert Westford and Mr. Playnsey gave them 30 l. to murder the Blind-beggar, his Brother, and his Daughter, and if I had not been, they had been all kill'd too, so had they.

Fellows what do you say to this?

My Liege I cannot talk, grant me the Combate, and my Sword shall prove Iam a Souldier, and my tongue nere knew the art of scolding.

Give him his will, alarum to the fight.

Thanks to my Liege: the common fight of these same serving men is sword and dagger, therefore I'll chuse the sword and target they are unskilfull in; I take the sword and target for my defence.

And my Liege, because Sir Rob. Westford shall not think I'll take any advantage, I'll answer him at his own weapons.

'Tis well; on to the next.

Backsword then and't please your Grace.

So, we are pleas'd.

Sirrah Iack, methinks Sword and Bucklet's a safe fight.

I'll choose no other, and I had a thousand lives.

[Page]

I do, take your bars of Iron, and your Barn-doors, and I do not bang 'em together like a couple of Cur-dogs, I'll nere be seen again.

Sirrah thou fellow.

Anon.

What weapons wilt thou use?

Weapon me no weapons, I can play at wasters as well as another man; but all's one for that, give me but an ashen Gibbet in my hand, and I do not dry-bang them both, I'll be bound to eat hay with a horse, so will I.

An ashen-gibbet? what dost thou mean by that?

What do I mean by it quoth ye?—I think you be sib to one of the London-Cockneys, that ask't, whether Hay-cocks were better meat broyl'd or rosted, an ashen Plant, a good Cudgell, what sho'd I ca it?

If there be such a weapon in the Court, let one go fetch it him.

Nay I'll make a page of my own age, and fet it my self. Swash bring out my blest Beggar there.

Yes Sir, here's your blest Beggar Master.

Look ye Sirs, this is en it, and I do not cudgell'em both with it, I'll give you leave to stick me up at the Court-gate for a Pissing-post, so will I.

But two to one is oddes, rather fight single.

No, they know me well enough, I have cudgelled them both afore now.

Well, if thou dare oppose them both, have thy desire.

Alarum to the flight.

Fellow, dost hear?

Anon?

What should I call thy Country, and thy name?

Sen ye?

The King wo'd know thy Country, and thy name?

My name? I am not asham'd of my name, I am one Tom Strowd of Harling, I'll play a gole at Camp-ball, or wrassel a fall a the hip, or the hin turn with ere a Courtnoll of ye all, for 20 quarters of Male, and march me height for height.

A lusty fellow trust—

[Page]We have too few such Subjects in our Land; where's the Blind-beg­gar and his brother?

Where the Blind-beggar is I know not, but here's the pretty Mother his Daughter; and thou beest a kind spring all speak a good word for me to my father that I may have her, and as God mend me and ere thou com'st into Norfolk I'll give thee as good a Dish of Dumplings as e're thou layd'st thy lips too, so will I, sen ye?

How? mary with a Beggar? mix the blood of Strowds with a tatter? either cast her off, or I will cast off thee.

Now we shall have a coyl with ye; and ye were not my father I'd knock your pate, so wo'd I.

How's that? do and thou dare.

Strowd, though she be Daughter to a poor Bind-man that long hath liv'd on good mens charity, do not disdain her. Be her birth as it may, the portion I'll give with her, deserves as good a Husband as your Son.

Bate me an ace of that qd. Bolton, yet I would I had her as naked as my nayl.

—To him Father, never lose a hog for a halfp'worth of tar; come old fellow bring thy white Bears to the stake, and thy yellow gingle boys to the Bull-ring;—Father wherefore do you hang an arse so? they are all our own and there were a comb seck full on 'em.

[Page]

Here Master, we'll outdrop the Beggar, we'll make Gill sweat else.

Hast thou any mony about thee Tom?

An hundred angels, and a better peny, Pigs of your own Sow Father.

There's 20 more.

More yet? the Rascal will disgrace me; more yet?

And yet too,—you think beggars ha' no lice father.

Why how now Strowd, begins it to be low water with ye?

I am e'en run a ground, have drop'd till I can drop no more.

You must e'en burn of the spit, for I have no more oyl of Angels to bast you father.

Nor thou Swash?

Only a broken three farthings that I kept in a corner to buy my wench pins with.

All this is mine then.

—I have brought my hogs to a fair Market, must I lose the Mother and all my Gold too?

Yes saith, all's gone Tom.

This is your foolery Father, and I had don't, we sho'd have had such a scolding with you.

Beggar?—He might be a King for his bounty, for he gives away all.

I know the reason of that, he can beg more, and Begging be so good an occupation wo'd I had been bound Apprentice to't seven years ago, there was somewhat to be got by it then, 'tis out of request now.

[Page]

This is old excellent, here carry't to my Chamber Swash, and lock the door fast I charge thee.

And I meet no false Knaves by the way; Canbee and Had­land here had been a simple boon for you now.

Why farewell 40 pence, I ha fisht fair and caught a frog; well Mother, though I am no Gentleman, I co'd ha brought you to more Land than a score on 'em, thou should'st have had 40 as fair milch kine to your payl, as a man sho'd need to see in a Summers day, 4 yoak of Oxen, and three team of Cart-horses; be­sides; thou should'st have had thine ambling nag, and thy side-saddle to ha rid on, a little easier than to be jaunted up and down London Streets in a lethern wheel-barrow; and then of the other side there's the old woman my Mother, she would have made thee a vild-good Huswife could have taught thee how to a made butter, and flap-jacks, fritters, pancakes, I and the rarest fools, all the Ladies in the Land know not how to turn their hands to 'em: But I'll take my leave on thee with an oh good night Land lady the Moon is up.

Gl. Card. Momford!

[Page]

Thanks your good Honor, and we'll do you more good by cheating your enemies abroad, than ever we did hurt by cosening honest subjects at home.