_Prig._ A very tyrant, I, an arrant tyrant, If e're I come to reign; therefore look to't, Except you do provide me hum enough And Lour to bouze with: I must have my Capons And Turkeys brought me in, with my green Geese, And Ducklings i'th' season: fine fat chickens, Or if you chance where an eye of tame Phesants Or Partridges are kept, see they be mine, Or straight I seize on all your priviledge, Places, revenues, offices, as forfeit, Call in your crutches, wooden legs, false bellyes, Forc'd eyes and teeth, with your dead arms; not leave you A durty clout to beg with o' your heads, Or an old rag with Butter, Frankincense, Brimston and Rozen, birdlime, blood, and cream, To make you an old sore; not so much soap As you may fome with i'th' Falling-sickness; The very bag you bear, and the brown dish Shall be escheated. All your daintiest Dells too I will deflower, and take your dearest Doxyes From your warm sides; and then some one cold night I'le watch you what old barn you go to roost in, And there I'le smother you all i'th' musty hay. _Hig._ This is tyrant-like indeed: But what would _Ginks_ Or _Clause_ be here, if either of them should raign? _Clau._ Best ask an Ass, if he were made a Camel, What he would be; or a dog, and he were a Lyon. _Ginks._ I care not what you are, Sirs, I shall be A Beggar still I am sure, I find my self there. _Enter_ Goswin. _Snap._ O here a Judge comes. _Hig._ Cry, a Judge, a Judge. _Gos._ What ail you Sirs? what means this outcry? _Hig._ Master, A sort of poor souls met: Gods fools, good Master, Have had some little variance amongst our selves Who should be honestest of us, and which lives Uprightest in his calling: Now, 'cause we thought We ne're should 'gree on't our selves, because Indeed 'tis hard to say: we all dissolv'd, to put it To him that should come next, and that's your Master-ship, Who, I hope, will 'termine it as your mind serves you, Right, and no otherwise we ask it: which? Which does your worship think is he? sweet Master Look over us all, and tell us; we are seven of us, Like to the seven wise Masters, or the Planets. _Gos._ I should judge this the man with the grave beard, And if he be not-- _Clau._ Bless you, good Master, bless you. _Gos._ I would he were: there's something too amongst you To keep you all honest. [_Exit._ _Snap._ King of Heaven go with you. _Omn._ Now good reward him, May he never want it, to comfort still the poor, in a good hour. _Fer._ What is't? see: _Snap_ has got it. _Snap._ A good crown, marry. _Prig._ A crown of gold. _Fer._ For our new King: good luck. _Ginks._ To the common treasury with it; if't be gold, Thither it must. _Prig._ Spoke like a Patriot, _Ferret_-- King _Clause_, I bid God save thee first, first, _Clause_, After this golden token of a crown; Where's oratour _Higgen_ with his gratuling speech now In all our names? _Fer._ Here he is pumping for it. _Gin._ H'has cough'd the second time, 'tis but once more And then it comes.