A
JOVIALL CREW:
OR,
THE MERRY BEGGARS.
Preſented in a
COMEDIE,
AT
The Cock-pit in Drury-Lane, in
the yeer 1641.
Written by
RICHARD BROME.
Mart. Hic totus volorideat Libellus.
LONDON:
Printed by J. Y. for E. D. and N. E. and are to be
ſold at the Gun in Ivy-Lane. 1652.
[A1]
To the Right Noble, Ingenious, and
Judicious Gentleman,
THOMAS STANLEY, Eſq;
SIR,
I Have, long ſince, ſtudied in theſe anti-ingenious Times,
to finde out a Man, that might, at once, be both a Judge
and Patron to this Iſſue of my Old age, which needs
both. And my bleſſed Stars have flung me upon You : In
whom both thoſe Attributes concentre and flouriſh: Nor
can I yet finde a reaſon, why I ſhould preſent it to You (it
being below your Acceptance or Cenſure) but onely my own
Confidence; which had not grown to this forwardneſſe,
had it not been incouraged by your Goodneſſe. Yet we all
know, Beggars uſe to flock to great mens Gates. And, though
my Fortune has caſt me in that Mold, I am poor and proud;
and preſerve the humour of him, who could not beg for any
thing, but great Boons, ſuch, as are your kinde Acceptance
and Protection. I dare not ſay (at my Brethren uſe) that I
preſent this, as a Teſtimoniall of my Gratitude or Re-
compence for your Favours: For (I proteſt) I conceive it
ſo far from quitting old Engagements, that it creates new.
So that, all, that this Play can do, is but to make more
Work; and involves me in Debts, beyond a poſſibility of
Satisfaction. Sir, it were a folly in me, to tell you of your
Worth, the World knows it enough; and are bold to ſay,
Fortune and Nature ſcarce ever club’d ſo well. You know,
Sir, I am old, and cannot cringe, nor Court, with the pow-
A 2der’d
The Epiſtle Dedicatory
der’d and ribbanded Witsof our daies: But, though I can-
not ſpeak ſo much, I can think as well,and as honoura-
bly as the beſt. All the Arguments I can uſe to induce you to
take notice of this thing of nothing,is, that it had the luck
to tumble laſt of all in the Epidemicallruine of the Scene;
and now limps hither with a wooden Leg, to beg an Alms
at your hands. I will winde up all, with a Uſe of Exhorta-
tion, That ſince the Times conſpire to make us all
Beggars, let us make our ſelves merry; which (if I am
not miſtaken) this drives at. Be pleaſed therefore, Sir, to
lodge theſe harmleſſe Beggars in the Out-houſes of your
thoughts; and, among the reſt, Him, that in this Cuckoe
time, puts in for a Memberſhip, and will fill the Choyre of
thoſe, that Duly and truly pray for you, and is,
SIR,
Your humble Servant
RIC: BROME.
[A2v]To
To Maſter RICHARD BROME, on
his Play, called, A Joviall Crew: or, The merry
BEGGARS.
PLayes are inſtructive Recreations:
Which, who would write, may not expect, at once,
No, nor with every breeding, to write well.
And, though ſome itching Academicks fell
Lately upon this Taſk, their Products were
Lame and imperfect; and did grate the eare;
So, that they mock’d the ſtupid Stationers care,
That both with Guelt and Cringes did prepare
Fine Copper-Cuts; and gather’d Verſes too,
To make a Shout before the idle Show.
Your Fate is other: You do not invade;
But by great Johnſon were made free o’th’ Trade.
So, that we muſt in this your Labour finde
Some Image and fair Relique of his Minde.
JOHN HALL
A3To
To Maſter RICHARD BROME, on his Comedie
of A Jovial Crew: or, The merry Beggars.
NOt to Commend, or Cenſure thee, or thine;
Nor like a Buſh, to ſignifie good Wine;
Nor yet to publiſh to the World, or Thee,
Thou merit’ſt Bayes by Wit and Poetry,
Do I ſtand here. Though I do know, there comes
A Shole, with Regiments of Encomiums,
On all occaſions, whoſe Aſtronomie
Can calculate a Praiſe to Fifty three,
And write blank Copies, ſuch, as being view’d,
May ſerve indifferently each Altitude;
And make Books, like Petitions, whoſe Commands
Are not from Worth, but multitude of Hands :
Thoſe will prove Wit by Power, and make a Trade,
To force by number when they can’t perſwade.
Here’s no ſuch need : For Books, like Children, be
Well Chriſt’ned, when their Sureties are but three.
And thoſe, which to twelve Godfathers do come,
Signifie former Guilt, or ſpeedy Doom.
Nor need the Stationer, when all th’Wits are paſt,
Bring his own Periwig Poetry at laſt.
All this won’t do : For, when their Labour’s done,
The Reader’s rul’d, not by their taſts, but’s own.
And he, that for Encomiaſticks looks,
May finde the bigger, not the better Books.
So, that the moſt our Leavers ſerve for, ſhews
Onely that we’re his Friends, and do ſuppoſe
’Tis good: And that is all, that I ſhall ſay.
In truth I love him well, and like his Play.
And if there’s any, that don’t think ſo too:
Let them let it alone for them, that do.
J. B.
[A3v]
To his worthy Friend Maſter RICHARD
BROME, upon his Comedie, called, A Joviall
Crew : or, The merry Beggars.
THis Comedie (ingenious Friend) will raiſe
It ſelf a Monument, without a Praiſe
Beg’d by the Stationer; who, with ſtrength of Purſe
And Pens, takes care, to make his Book ſell worſe.
And I dare calculate thy Play, although
Not elevated unto Fifty two.
It may grow old as Time, or Wit; and he,
That dares deſpiſe, may aſter envie thee.
Learning, the File of Poeſie may be
Fetch’d from the Arts and Univerſitie :
But he that writes a Play, and good, muſt know,
Beyond his Books, Men, and their Actions too.
Copies of Verſe, that make the New Men ſweat,
Reach not a Poem, nor the Muſes heat;
Small Bavine-Wits, and Wood, may burn a while,
And make more noiſe, then Forreſts on a Pile,
Whoſe Fivers ſhrunk, ma’ invite a piteous ſtream,
Not to lament, but to extinguiſh them.
Thy Fancie’s Mettall; and thy ſtrain’s much higher
Proof ’gainſt their Wit, and what that dreads, the Fire.
Ja: Shirley.
[A4]To
To my Worthy Friend Maſter RICARD BROME,
on his excellent Play, called, A Joviall Crew : or,
The merry Beggars.
THere is a Faction (Friend) in Town, that cries,
Down with the Dagon-Poet, Johnſon dies.
His Works were too elaborate, not fit
To come within the Verge, or face of Wit.
Beaumont and Fletcher (they ſay) perhaps, might
Paſſe (well) for currant Coin, in a dark night :
But Shakeſpeare the Plebean Driller, was
Founder’d in’s Pericles, and muſt not paſs.
And ſo, at all men flie, that have but been
Thought worthy of Applauſe; therefore, their ſpleen.
Ingratefull Negro-kinde, dart you your Rage
Againſt the Beams that warm’d you, and the Stage!
This malice, ſhews it is unhallowed heat,
That boyles your Raw-brains, and your Temples beat.
Adulterate Pieces may retain the Mold,
Or Stamp, but want the pureneſſe of the Gold.
But the World’s mad, thoſe Jewels that were worn
In high eſteem, by ſome, laid by in ſcorn;
Like Indians, who their Native Wealth deſpiſe,
And doat on Stranger’s Traſh, and Trumperies.
Yet, if it be not too far ſpent, there is
Some hopes left us, that this, thy well wrought Piece,
May bring it Cure, reduce it to its ſight,
To judge th’ difference ’twixt the Day, and Night;
Draw th’ Curtain of their Errours : that their ſenſe
May be conformable to Ben’s Influence;
And finding here, Nature and Art agree,
May ſwear, thou liv’ſt in Him, and he in Thee.
Jo: Tatham.
[A4v]To
To Maſter RICHARD BROME, upon
his Comedie, called, A Joviall Crew : or,
The merry Beggars.
SOmthing I’d ſay, but not to praiſe thee (Friend)
For thou thy ſelf, doſt beſt thy ſelf commend.
And he that with an Eulogie doth come,
May to’s own Wit raiſe an Encomium,
But not to thine. Yet I’ll before thee go,
Though Whiffler-like to uſher in the Shew.
And like a quarter Clock, foretell the time
Is come about for greater Bells to chime.
I muſt not praiſe thy Poetry, nor Wit,
Though both are very good; yet that’s not it.
The Reader in his progreſſe will finde more
Wit in a line, than I praiſe in a ſcore.
I ſhall be read with prejudice, for each line
I write of thee, or any thing that’s thine,
Be’t Name, or Muſe, will all be read of me,
As if I claw’d my ſelf by praiſing thee.
But though I may not praiſe; I hope, I may
Be bold to love thee. And the World ſhall ſay
I’ve reaſon for’t. I love thee for thy Name;
I love thee for thy Merit, and thy Fame :
I love thee for thy neat and harmleſſe wit,
Thy Mirth that does ſo cleane and cloſely hit.
Thy luck to pleaſe ſo well: who could go faſter?
At firſt to be the Envy of thy Maſter.
I love thee for thy ſelf; for who can chooſe
But like the Fountain of ſo briſk a Muſe?
aI love
I love this
Comedie, and every
line,
Becauſe ’tis
good, as well’s becauſe ’tis
thine.
Thou tell’ſt the
World, the life that
Beggars lead,
’Tis
ſeaſonable, ’twill become our
Trade.
’T muſt be our
ſtudy too; for in this
time
Who’ll not be innocent, ſince
Wealth’s a
Crime ?
Thou’rt th’
Ages Doctor now ; for ſince
all go
To make us
poor, thou mak’ſt us
merry too.
Go on, and thrive;
may all thy
ſportings be
Delightfull unto all, as th’are to
me.
May this ſo
pleaſe t’encourage thee; that more
May be
made publick, which thou keep’ſt in
ſtore.
That though we’ve loſt their Dreſſe; we may be glad
To ſee and think on th’ happineſſe we had.
And thou thereby may’ſt make
our Name to ſhine;
’Twas
Royall once; but now ’twill be Divine.
ALEX. BROME.
[a1v]Prologue.
Prologue.
THe Title of our Play, A Joviall Crew,
May ſeem to promiſe Mirth: Which were a new,
And forc’d thing, in theſe ſad and tragick daies,
For you to finde, or we expreſſe in Playes.
We wiſh you, then, would change that expectation,
Since Joviall Mirth is now grown out of faſhion.
Or much not to expect: For, now it chances,
(Our Comick Writer finding that Romances
Of Lovers, through much travell and diſtreſſe,
Till it be thought, no Power can redreſſe
Th’ afflicted Wanderers, though ſtout Chevalry
Lend all his aid for their delivery;
Till, laſtly, ſome impoſſibility
Concludes all ſtrife, and makes a Comedie)
Finding (he ſaies) ſuch Stories bear the ſway,
Near as he could, he has compos’d a Play,
Of Fortune-tellers, Damſels, and their Squires,
Expos’d to ſtrange Adventures, through the Briers
Of Love and Fate. But why need I foreſtall
What ſhall ſo ſoon be obvious to you all:
But wiſh the dulneſſe may make no Man ſleep,
Nor ſadneſſe of it any Woman weep.
[a2]The.
The Perſons of the Play.
| Old-rents, an ancient Eſquire. |
| Hearty, his Friend, and merry Companion, but |
| a decay’d Gentleman. |
| Springlove, Steward to Maſter Oldrents. |
Vincent,
Hilliard | } | two young Gentlemen. |
| Randall, a Groom, Servant to Oldrents. |
Maſter Sentwell,
and two other
Gentlemen, | } | Friends to Juſtice Clack. |
| Oliver, the Juſtices Son. |
| Maſter Clack, the Juſtice himſelf. |
| Maſter Talboy, Lover to the Juſtices Neece. |
| Martin, the Juſtices Cleark. |
Chaplain,
Uſher,
Butler,
Cook | } | to Oldrents. |
Rachel,
Meriel, | } | Oldrent’s Daughters. |
| Amie, Juſtice Clack’s Neece. |
| Autum-Mort, an old Beggar-woman. |
Patrico,
Souldier,
Lawyer,
Courtier, | } | Four eſpeciall Beggars. |
| Scribble, their Poet. |
| Divers other Beggars, Fidlers, and Mutes. |
[a2v]A.
A JOVIAL CREW
OR,
The merry Beggars.
Actus Primus
Oldrents. Hearty.
Old.IT has indeed, Friend, much afflicted me.
Hea.And very juſtly, let me tell you, Sir,
That could ſo impiouſly be curious
Yo tempt a judgement on you; to give ear,
And Faith too (by your leave) to
Fortune-tellers,
Old.I have ſince been frighted
With’t in a thouſand dreams.
A thouſand times to bed, rather then dream
Of any of their
Riddlemy Riddlemies.
If they prove happy ſo: If not, let’t go;
You’l never finde their meaning till the event,
If you ſuppoſe there was, at all, a meaning,
As the equivocating Devil had, when he
Coſen’d the Monk, to let him live ſoul-free,
B [1]Till
A Jovial Crew: or,
Till he ſhould finde him ſleeping between ſheets:
The wary Monk, abjuring all ſuch lodging,
At laſt, by over-watching in his ſtudy,
The foul Fiend took him napping with his noſe
Betwixt the ſheet-leaves of his conjuring Book.
There was the
whim, or double meaning on’t.
But theſe fond
Fortune-tellers, that know nothing,
Aim to be thought more cunning then their Maſter,
The foreſaid Devil, tho’ truly not ſo hurtful:
Yet, truſt ’em! hang ’em.
Wizards! old blinde Buz-
For once they hit, they miſs a thouſand times;
And moſt times give quite contrary, bad for good,
And beſt for worſt. One told a Gentleman
His ſon ſhould be a man-killer, and hang’d for’t;
Who, after prov’d a great and rich Phyſician,
And with great Fame ith’ Univerſitie
Hang’d up in Picture for a grave example.
There was the
whim of that. Quite contrary!
Old.And that was happy, would mine could ſo
Hea.They may: but truſt not to’t. Another
Sche-
Found, that a ſquint-ey’d boy ſhould prove a notable
Pick-purſe, and afterwards a moſt ſtrong thief;
When he grew up to be a cunning Lawyer,
And at laſt died a Judge. Quite contrary!
How many have been mark’d out by theſe
Wizards
For fools, that after have been prick’d for Sheriffs?
Was not a Shepheard-boy foretold to be
A Drunkard, and to get his living from
Bawds, Whores, Theeves, Quarrellors, and the like?
And did he not become a Suburbe
Juſtice?
[B1v]And
The merry Beggars.
And live in Wine and Worſhip by the Fees
Rack’d out of ſuch Delinquents? There’s the
whim
Now I come to you: Your
Figure-flinger finds,
That both your Daughters, notwithſtanding all
Your great Poſſeſſions, which they are Co-heirs of,
Shall yet be
Beggars: May it not be meant,
(If, as I ſaid, there be a meaning in it)
They may prove
Courtiers, or great Courtiers wives,
And ſo be Beggars in Law? Is not that
the
whim on’t think you? you ſhall think no worſe
Old.Would I had your merry heart.
Hea.I would you had; and I
Such an Eſtate as yours. Four thouſand yearly,
With ſuch a heart as mine, would defie
Fortune,
And all her babling
Sooth-ſayers. I’d as ſoon
Diſtruſt in
Providence, as lend a fear
To ſuch a
Deſtiny, for a Child of mine,
While there be Sack and Songs in Town or Country.
Think like a man of conſcience (now I am ſerious)
What juſtice can there be for ſuch a curſe
To fall upon your Heirs? Do you not live
Free, out of Law, or grieving any man?
Are you not th’ onely rich man lives un-envied?
Have you not all the praiſes of the
Rich,
And prayers of the
Poor? Did ever any
Servant, or Hireling, Neighbour, Kindred curſe you,
Or wiſh one minute ſhorten’d of your life?
Have you one grudging Tenant? will they not all
Fight for you? Do they not teach their Children,
B 2And
A Jovial Crew: or,
And make ’em too, pray for you morn and evening,
And in their Graces too, as duly as
For King and Realme? The innocent things would
Hea.It is your merit. Your great love and bounty
Procures from
Heaven thoſe inſpirations in ’em.
Whoſe Rent did ever you exact? whoſe have
You not remitted, when by caſualties
Of fire, of floods, of common dearth, or ſickneſs,
Poor men were brought behind hand? Nay, whoſe
Have you not piouſly repair’d?
Hea.What Hariots have you tane from forlorne
What Acre of your thouſands have you rack’d?
Old.Good Friend, no more.
Hea.Theſe are enough, indeed,
To fill your ears with joyful acclamations
Where e’re you paſs: Heaven bleſs our Landlord
Our Maſter
Oldrent; our good Patron
Oldrent.
Cannot theſe ſounds conjure that evil ſpirit
Of ſear out of you, that your Children ſhall
Live to be
Beggars? Shall Squire
Oldrent’s Daughters
Weare old rents in their Garments? (there’s a
whim
Becauſe a
Fortune-teller told you ſo?
Old.Come, I will ſtrive to think no more on’t.
Hea.Will you ride forth for air then, and be merry?
Old.Your counſel and example may inſtruct me.
[B2v]Hea.
The merry Beggars.
Hea.Sack muſt be had in ſundry places too.
Enter Springlove with Books and Papers,
he layes them on the Table.
Old.Yet here comes one brings me a ſecond fear,
Who has my care the next unto my children.
Hea.Your Steward, Sir, it ſeems has buſineſs with
I wiſh you would have none.
Old.I’ll ſoon diſpatch it:
And then be for our journey inſtantly.
Hea.I’ll wait your coming down, Sir.
Exit.
Old.Not common among Stewards, I confeſs,
To urge in their Accompts before the day
Their Lords have limited. Some that are grown
To hoary haires and Knighthoods, are not found
Guilty of ſuch an importunity.
’Tis yet but thirty daies, when I give forty
After the half-year day, our
Lady laſt.
Could I ſuſpect my Truſt were loſt in thee;
Or doubt thy youth had not ability
To carry out the weight of ſuch a charge,
I, then, ſhould call on thee.
Spr.Sir, your indulgence,
I hope, ſhall ne’r corrupt me. Ne’rtheleſs,
The teſtimony of a fair diſcharge
From time to time, will be incouragement
Springlove turns over the ſeveral Books to
his Maſter.
To virtue in me. You may then be pleas’d
B 3To
A Jovial Crew : or,
To take here a Survey of all your Rents
Receiv’d, and all ſuch other payments, as
Came to my hands ſince my laſt Audit, for
Cattel, Wool, Corn, all Fruits of Husbandry.
Then, my Receipts on Bonds, and ſome new Leaſes,
With ſome old debts, and almoſt deſperate ones,
As well from Country Cavaliers, as Courtiers.
Then, hereSir, are my ſeveral Diſburſements,
In all particulars for your ſelf and Daughters,
In charge of Houſe-keeping, Buildings and Repairs;
Journeys, Apparel, Coaches, Gifts, and all
Expences for your perſonal neceſſaries.
Here, Servants wages, Liveries, and Cures.
Here for ſupplies of Horſes, Hawks and Hounds.
And laſtly, not the leaſt to be remembred,
Your large Benevolences to the Poor.
Old.Thy charity there goes hand in hand with
And,
Springlove, I commend it in thee, that
So young in years art grown ſo ripe in goodneſs.
May their Heaven-piercing Prayers bring on thee
The ballance of the ſeveral Accompts,
(ded
Which ſhews you what remains in Caſh: which ad-
Unto your former Banck, makes up in all– – – –
Old.Twelve thouſand and odd pounds.
Of all. The Cheſts are ſafe in your own Cloſet.
Old.Why in my Cloſet? is not yours as ſafe?
Spr.O, Sir, you know my ſuit.
Old.Your ſuit? what ſuit?
Spr.Touching the time of year.
[B3v]Old.
The merry Beggars.
Why what of that, good
Springlove?Nightin-
Spr.O, Sir, you hear I am call’d.
gale ſings.
I hop’d thou hadſt abjur’d that uncough practice.
Spr.You thought I had forſaken
Nature then.
Old.Is that diſeaſe of Nature ſtill in thee
So virulent? and, notwithſtanding all
My favours, in my giſts, my cares, and counſels,
Which to a ſoul ingrateful might be boaſted:
Have I firſt bred thee, and then preferr’d thee (from
I will not ſay how wretched a beginning)
To be a Maſter over all my Servants;
Planted thee in my boſom; and canſt thou,
There, ſlight me for the whiſtling of a Bird?
Spr.Your reaſon, Sir, informs you, that’s no cauſe.
But ’tis the ſeaſon of the year that calls me.
What moves her Noats, provokes my diſpoſition
By a more abſolute power of
Nature, then
Philoſophy can render an accompt for.
Old.I finde there’s no expelling it; but ſtill
It will return. I have try’d all the means
(As I may ſafely think) in humane wiſdom,
And did (as neer as reaſon could) aſſure me,
That thy laſt years reſtraint had ſtopp’d for ever,
That running ſore on thee, that gadding humour:
When, onely for that cauſe, I laid the weight
Of mine Eſtate in Stewardſhip upon thee;
Which kept thee in that year, after ſo many
Sommer vagaries thou hadſt made before.
Spr.You kept a Swallow in a Cage that while.
I cannot, Sir, indure another Sommer
In that reſtraint, with life: ’twas then my torment,
[B4]But
A Jovial Crew : or,
But now, my death. Yet, Sir, my life is yours:
Who are my Patron; freely may you take it.
Yet pardon, Sir, my frailty, that do beg
A ſmall continuance of it on my knees.
Old.Can there no means be found to preſerve life
In thee, but wandring, like a Vagabond?
Does not the Sun as comfortably ſhine
Upon my Gardens, as the opener Fields?
Or on my Fields, as others far remote?
Are not my Walks and Greens as delectable
As the High-ways and Commons? Are the ſhades
Of
Siccamore and Bowers of
Eglantine
Leſs pleaſing then of Bramble, or thorne hedges?
Or of my Groves and Thickets, then wild Woods?
Are not my Fountain waters freſher then
The troubled ſtreams, where every Beaſt does drink?
Do not the Birds ſing here as ſweet and lively,
As any other where? is not thy bed more ſoft,
And reſt more ſafe, then in a Field or Barn?
Is a full Table, which is call’d thine own,
Leſs curious or wholſom, then the ſcraps
From others trenchers, twice or thrice tranſlated?
Spr.Yea, in the winter ſeaſon, when the fire
Spr.O Sir, y’have heard of Pilgrimages; and
The voluntary travels of good men.
Old.For Pennance; or to holy ends? but bring
Not thoſe into compariſon, I charge you.
Spr.I do not, Sir. But pardon me, to think
Their ſufferings are much ſweetned by delights,
Such as we finde, by ſhifting place and air.
Old.Are there delights in beggary? Or, if to take
[B4v]Diver-
The merry Beggars.
Diverſity of Aire be ſuch a ſolace,
Travel the Kingdom over: And if this
Yeeld not variety enough, try further:
Provided your deportment be gentile.
Take Horſe, and Man, and Money: you have all,
Sing Nightingale, Cuckoe, &c.
Spr.O how am I confounded!
Dear Sir, retort me naked to the world,
Rather then lay thoſe burdens on me, which
Will ſtifle me. I muſt abroad or periſh.
Old.I will no longer ſtrive to waſh this
Moor;
Nor breath more minutes ſo unthriftily,
In civil argument, againſt rude winde,
But rather practiſe to withdraw my love
And tender care (if it be poſſible)
From that unfruitful breaſt; incapable
Spr.Have I your leave, Sir?
Old.I leave you to diſpute it with your ſelf.
I have no voice to bid you go, or ſtay:
My love ſhall give thy will preheminence;
And leave th’ effect to Time and Providence– –
Exit.
Spr.I am confounded in my obligation
To this good man: His virtue is my puniſhment,
When ’tis not in my Nature to return
Obedience to his Merits. I could wiſh
Such an Ingratitude were Death by th’law,
And put in preſent execution on me,
Yo rid me of my ſharper ſuffering.
Nor but by death, can this predominant ſway
Of nature be extinguiſh’d in me. I
Have fought with my Affections, by th’ aſſiſtance
C [1]Of
A Jovial Crew : or,
Of all the ſtrengths of Art and Diſcipline
(All which I owe him for in education too)
To conquer and eſtabliſh my obſervance
(As in all other rules) to him in this,
This inborn ſtrong deſire of liberty
In that free courſe, which he deteſts as ſhameful,
And I approve my earths felicity:
But finde the war is endleſs, and muſt fly.
What muſt I loſe then? A good Maſter’s love.
What loſs feels he that wants not what he loſes?
They’l ſay I loſe all Reputation.
What’s that, to live where no ſuch thing is known?
My duty to a Maſter will be queſtion’d.
Where duty is exacted it is none:
And among
Beggars, each man is his own.
Enter Randal and three or four ſervants with a great
Kettle, and black Jacks, and a Bakers Baſket, all
empty, exeunt with all, manet Randal.
Now fellows, what news from whence you came?
Ran.The old wonted news, Sir, from your Gueſt-
houſe, the old Barn. We have unloaden the Bread-
basket, the Beef-Kettle, and the Beer-
Bumbards there,
amongſt your Gueſts the Beggars. And they have all
prayed for you and our Maſter, as their manner is,
from the teeth outward, marry from the teeth in-
wards ’tis enough to ſwallow your Alms; from
whence I think their Prayers ſeldom come.
Spr.Thou ſhould’ſt not think uncharitably.
Ran.Thought’s free, Maſter Steward, and it pleaſe
you. But your Charity is nevertheleſs notorious, I
[C1v]Spr.
The merry Beggars.
Spr.Meritorious thou meantſt to ſay.
Ran.Surely Sir, no; ’tis out of our Curats Book.
Spr.But I aſpire no merits, nor popular thanks,
’Tis well is I do well in it.
Ran.It might be better though (if old
Randal,
whom you allow to talk, might counſel) to help to
breed up poor mens children, or decayed labourers,
paſt their work, or travel; or towards the ſetting up
of poor young married couples; then to beſtow an
hundred pound a year (at leaſt you do that, if not all
you get) beſides our Maſters bounty, to maintain in
begging ſuch wanderers as theſe, that never are out
of their way; that cannot give account from whence
they came, or whither they would; nor of any be-
ginning they ever had, or any end they ſeek, but
ſtill to ſtrowle and beg till their bellies be full, and
then ſleep till they be hungry.
Spr.Thou art ever repining at thoſe poore people!
they take nothing from thee but thy pains: and that
I pay thee for too. Why ſhould’ſt thou grudge?
Ran.Am I not bitten to it every day, by the ſix-
footed blood-hounds that they leave in their Litter,
when I throw out the old, to lay freſh ſtraw for the
new comers at night. That’s one part of my office.
And you are ſure that though your hoſpitality be but
for a night and a morning for one Rabble, to have
a new ſupply every evening. They take nothing from
me indeed, they give too much.
Spr.Thou art old
Randall ſtill! ever grumbling,
but ſtill officious for ’em.
Ran.Yes: hang ’em, they know I love ’em well
enough, I have had merry bouts with ſom of ’em.
Spr.What ſay’ſt thou
Randall?
C 2Ran.
A Jovial Crew: or,
Ran.They are indeed my paſtime. I left the merry
Griggs (as their provender has prickt ’em) in ſuch a
Hoigh younder! ſuch a frolick! you’l hear anon, as
Spr.Well honeſt
Randal. Thus it is. I am for a
journey. I know not how long will be my abſence.
But I will preſently take order with the Cooke,
Pantler and Butler, for my wonted allowance to the
Poor; And I will leave money with thee to manage
the affair till my return.
Ran.Then up riſe
Randal, Bayley of the Beggars.
Spr.And if our Maſter ſhall be diſpleas’d (al-
though the charge be mine) at the openneſs of the
Entertainment, thou ſhalt then give it proportiona-
bly in money, and let them walk farther.
Ran.Pſeugh! that will never do’t, never do ’em
good: ’Tis the Seat, the Habitation, the Rende-
vous, that chears their hearts. Money would clog
their conſciences. Nor muſt I loſe the muſick of ’em
Spr.We will agree upon’t anon. Go now about
Ran.I go. Bayley? nay Steward and Chamber-
lain of the Rogues and Beggars.
Exit.
Spr.I cannot think but with a trembling fear
On this adventure, in a ſcruple, which
I have not weighed with all my other doubts.
I ſhall, in my departure, rob my Maſter.
Of what? of a true Servant; other theft
I have committed none. And that may be ſupply’d,
And better too, by ſome more conſtant to him.
But I may injure many in his Truſt,
Which now he cannot be but ſparing of.
[C2v]I rob
The merry Beggars.
I rob him too, of the content and hopes
He had in me, whom he had built and rais’d
Unto that growth in his affection,
That I became a gladneſs in his eye,
And now muſt be a grief or a vexation
A noyſe and ſinging within.
Unto his noble heart. But heark! I there’s
The Harmony that drowns all doubts and fears.
Song.
FRom hunger and cold who lives more free,
Or who more richly clad then wee?
Our bellies are full; our fleſh is warm;
And, againſt pride, our rags are a charm.
Enough is our Feaſt, and for to morrow
Let rich men care: we feel no ſorrow.
No ſorrow, no ſorrow, no ſorrow, no ſorrow.
Let rich men care, we feel no ſorrow.
Sp.The Emperour hears no ſuch Muſick; nor
Each City, each Town, and every Village,
Affords us either an Alms or Pillage.
And if the weather be cold and raw
Then, in a Barn we tumble in ſtraw.
If warm and fair, by yea-cock and nay-cock
The Fields will afford us a Hedge or a Hay-cock.
A Hay cock, a Hay-cock, a Hay-cock, a Hay-cock,
The Fields will afford us a Hedge or a Hay-cock.
Spr.Moſt raviſhing delight! But, in all this
Onely one ſenſe is pleas’d: mine ear is feaſted.
Mine eye too muſt be ſatisfied with my joyes.
C 3The
A Jovial Crew : or,
The hoarding Uſurer cannot have more
Thirſty deſire to ſee his golden ſtore,
When he unlocks his Treaſury, then I
The equipage in which my Beggars lie.
He opens the Scene; the Beggars are diſcovered in
their poſtures; then they iſſue forth; and laſt,
the Patrico.
All.Our Maſter, our Maſter! our ſweet and com-
Spr.How cheare my hearts?
1 Beg.Moſt crowſe, moſt capringly.
Shall we dance, ſhall we ſing, to welcome our King?
Strike up Piper a merry merry dance
That we on our ſtampers may foot it and prance,
To make his heart merry as he has made ours;
As luſtick and frolique as Lords in their Bowers.
Muſick. Dance.
Spr.Exceeding well perform’d.
1 Beg.’Tis well if it like you, Maſter. But wee
have not that rag among us, that we will not daunce
off, to do you ſervice; we being all and onely your
ſervants, moſt noble Sir. Command us therefore
and imploy us, we beſeech you.
Spr.Thou ſpeak’ſt moſt courtly.
2 Beg.Sir, he can ſpeak, and could have writ as
well. He is a decay’d Poet, newly fallen in among
us; and begs as well as the beſt of us. He learnt it
pretty well in his own profeſſion before; and can
the better practiſe it in ours now.
Spr.Thou art a wit too, it ſeems.
3 Beg.He ſhould have wit and knavery too, Sir:
[C3v]For
The merry Beggars.
For he was an Attorney, till he was pitch’d over the
Bar. And, from that fall, he was taken up a Knight
o’ the Poſt; and ſo he continued, till he was degra-
ded at the whipping-poſt; and from thence he ran
reſolutely into this courſe. His cunning in the Law,
and the others labour with the
Muſes are dedicate to
your ſervice; and for my ſelf, I’l fight for you.
Spr.Thou art a brave fellow, and ſpeak’ſt like a
Commander. Haſt thou born Arms?
4 Beg.Sir, he has born the name of a
Netherland
Souldier, till he ran away from his Colours, and was
taken lame with lying in the Fields by a
Sciatica : I
mean, Sir, the
ſtrapado. After which, by a ſecond re-
treat, indeed running away, he ſcambled into his
Country, and ſo ſcap’d the Gallows; and then ſnap’d
up his living in the City by his wit in cheating, pim-
ping, and ſuch like Arts, till the Cart and the Pillo-
ry ſhewed him too publiquely to the world. And ſo,
begging being the laſt refuge, he enter’d into our ſo-
ciety. And now lives honeſtly, I muſt needs ſay, as
Spr.Thou ſpeak’ſt good language too.
1 Beg.He was a Courtier born, Sir, and begs on
pleaſure I aſſure you, refuſing great and conſtant
means from able friends to make him a ſtaid man.
Yet (the want of a leg notwithſtanding) he muſt tra-
vel in this kinde againſt all common reaſon, by the
ſpecial pollicy of Providence.
1 Beg.His Father, Sir, was a Courtier; a great
Court Beggar I aſſure you;
I made theſe Verſes of Him and his Son here.
[C4]A
A Jovial Crew: or,
A
Courtier beg’d by Covetiſe, not Need,
From Others that, which made them beg indeed.
He beg’d, till wealth had laden him with cares
To keep for’s children and their children ſhares :
While the oppreſs’d, that loſt that great Eſtate
Sent Curſes after it unto their
Fate.
The Father dies (the world ſaies) very rich;
The Son, being gotten while (it ſeems) the itch
Of begging was upon the Courtly Sire,
Or bound by Fate, will to no wealth aſpire,
Tho’ offer’d him in Money, Cloathes or Meat,
More then he begs, or inſtantly muſt eat.
Is not he heavenly bleſt, that hates Earth’s Treaſure
And begs, with
What’s a Gentleman but’s pleaſure?
Or ſay it be upon the Heire a curſe;
What’s that to him? The
Beggar’s ne’r the worſe.
For of the general ſtore that Heaven has ſent
He values not a penny till’t be ſpent.
All.A
Scribble, a
Scribble!
2 Beg.What City or Court Poet could ſay more
then our hedge Muſe-monger here?
2 Beg.What ſay, Sir, to our Poet
Scribble here?
Spr.I like his vain exceeding well; and the whole
2 Beg.Conſort, Sir. We have
Muſicians too a-
mong us : true
merry Beggars indeed, that being
within the reach of the Laſh for ſinging libellous
Songs at
London, were fain to flie into our Covie,
and here they ſing all our Poet’s Ditties. They can
ſing any thing moſt tunably, Sir, but Pſalms. What
they may do hereafter under a triple Tree, is much
expected. But they live very civilly and gentily a-
[C4v]Spr.
The merry Beggars.
Spr.But what is he there? that ſolemn old fel-
low, that neither ſpeaks of himſelf, nor any body
2 Beg.O Sir, the rareſt man of all. He is a
Pro-
phet. See how he holds up his prognoſticating noſe.
2 Beg.Yes Sir, a cunning man and a Fortune-tel-
ler : ’tis thought he was a great Cleark before his
decay, but he is very cloſe, will not tell his begin-
ning, nor the fortune he himſelf is falne from : But
he ſerves us for a Clergy-man ſtill, and marries us, if
need be, after a new way of his own.
Spr.How long have you had his company?
2 Beg.But lately come amongſt us, but a very
ancient Strowleall the Land over, and has travell’d
with
Gipſies, and is a
Patrico. Shall he read your For-
Pat.Lend me your hand, Sir.
By this Palme I underſtand,
Thou art born to wealth and Land,
And after many a bitter guſt,
Shalt build with thy great Granſires duſt.
Spr.Where ſhall I finde it ? but come, Ile not
trouble my head with the ſearch.
2 Beg.What ſay, Sir, to our Crew? are we not
Spr.You are
A Jovial Crew; the onely people
Whoſe happineſs I admire.
3 Beg.Will you make us happy in ſerving you?
have you any Enemies? ſhall we fight under you?
D [1]2 Beg.
A Jovial Crew: or,
3.Command us ſomething, Sir.
Spr.Where’s the next Rendevouz?
1.Neither in Village nor in Town:
But three mile off at
Maple-down.
Spr.At evening there I’le viſit you.
Song.
Come, come; away: The Spring
(By every Bird that can but ſing,
Or chirp a note) doth now invite
Us forth, to taſte of his delight.
In Field, in Grove, on Hill, in Dale;
But above all the Nightingale:
Who in her ſweetneſs ſtrives t’ out-doe
The loudneſs of the hoarſe Cuckoe.
Cuckoe cries he, Jug Jug Jug ſings ſhe,
From buſh to buſh, from tree to tree,
Why in one place then tarry we?
Come away; why do we ſtay?
We have no debt or rent to pay.
No bargains or accounts to make;
Nor Land or Leaſe to let or take:
Or if we had, ſhould that remore us,
When all the world’s our own before us,
And where we paſs, and make reſort,
It is our Kingdom and our Court.
Cuckoe cries he &c.Exeunt Cantantes.
They dream of happineſs that live in State,
But they enjoy it that obey their Fate.
[D1v]Actus
