_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.