THE BLIND-BEGGAR OF BEDNAL-GREEN, with The merry humour of Tom Strowd the Norfolk Yeoman, as it was divers times publicly acted by the Prince's Servants.  
Written by JOHN DAY.  
GRANTED: BY: H: R: M PROHIBITED: TO: BE: counterfeited  
LONDON, Printed for R. Pollard, and Tho. Dring, and are to be sold at the Ben Johnsons' Head, behind the Exchange, and the George in Fleetstreet, near Saint Dunstan's Church, 1659.   

dramatis Personae.  

KIng Henry the sixth.  
Duke of Gloster, Protector.  
Momford the Blind-beggar.  
Bedford, a nobleman.  
Bewford, Lord Cardinal.  
Sir Robert Westford, Brother and private enemy to Momford.  
Captain Westford, true Friend to Momford.  
Sir Walter Playnsey, a Lover of Ell●nor.  
Young Playnsey, trothplight Husband of Bess Momford.  
Old Strowd, a Norfolk Yeoman.  
Tom Strowd his Son.  
Swash his man, and Clown.  


two Cheats.  
Canbee  
Hadland.    
Snip their Boy.  
Ellanor, old Playnsey's Ward.  
Bess the Blind-beggars Daughter.  
Kate Sir Robert's Daughter.  
Swisser, victualler, Landeress, armourer, Carter, soldiers, Officers, and Attendants.   
Scene Bednal Green.   

The Blind-Beggar of Bednall-Green.  

ACT I.  Enter Bedford, Sir Robert Westford, Captain Westford and soldiers. Bed. 
YOu Peers of England that with awful dread Drum.  
Have paced on the green Garments of fair France,  
Here cease a while, and give the Frenchmen rest,  
That they may know whose sovereignty is best,  
Either the Dolphin●, or our Royal Lords.  
But what avails our Conquests far from home,  
When civil Discords stir uncivil arms  
In the King's Chamber, London, nay, his Court?  
See Lords, read what is written there.  
By blessed St. Peter, Gloster is to blame,  
And Winchester hath neither grace nor shame.  Sir Rob. 
Yes my Lord, he is Lord Cardinal's grace.  Bed. 
Lord Cardinal! marry fie, he was proud before,  
But now his Hat exalts his proud heart more:  
But when I come among them, I'll make them know  
The benefit of Peace; fall out for women,  
Wrangle at a word? the one's Protector  
Of a sacred Prince, the other made a Prince Drum afar off.  
Amongst the Prelates; though Bewford basely born  
I'll write to them: if with regardless eyes our lines they read,  
we'll over and cut off their factious head  Sir Rob. 
About old Playnsey's son what says your Excellency?  Bed. 
Sir Welter's son, marry Sir Rob. Westford; March a far off.  
This Drum I think marcheth from Amiens,  
Is should be he, I sent him for the Prisoners.  Enter young Plainsey with Drum and soldiers, and a Switzar. Y. Playn. 
Health to your Excellence most gracious Regent,  
Playnsey long Prisoner in Amiens,  
Released by Momford's bounty and your care,  
Requests before these Prisoners be dismissed  
This Switzar may be searched, for last night late  
I heard a Gentleman tell him in Dutch,  
If he would bear a Letter to a Lord,  
With whom Veleires had intelligence,  
He should receive in hand ten Crowns in gold,  
And 30 more when 'twas delivered him.  Bed. 
Who was it promised you so large reward?  Switz. 
On frolic younker,  
Dat is de Scryven Ick Doeniit for-stow  
De secretary to Van Here Velieres  Bed. 
He was the Secretary to the governor?  Swiz. 
Yaw, yaw, mine Here.  Bed. 
Who were they sent unto?  Swiz. 
To van Heren Montford that is de grave van Calais ant van Guynes,  
Dar is deen script deen Letters watt you see then.  Bed. 
To Momford! what should Veleires write to Momford. Read.  Sr. Rob. 
Playnsey is this the plot for Momford's fall?  Y. Playn. 
It is, and be assured that down he shall.  Sr. Rob. 
Oh let me hug thee! thou hast won my heart!  Y. Playn. 
Forbear, lest the sharp eye of jealousy,  
See by this sudden Joy our Injury.  Sir Rob. 
When it breaks forth we'll seem to weep for grief.  Bed. 
Lords take your places, and Mr. Playnsey take your seat,  
For in this business your desert is great.  
See here's a Letter sent from Amiens unto Momford.  Omnes. 
How, unto Momford!  Bed. 
Yes, and if this speak right,  
Momford betrayed Guynes on Friday night,  
And means to morrow ere the Sun be set  
To yield up Calais to the enemy.  Cap. West. 
High Heaven forfend it, gracious General.  
I think there breathes not a more noble Spirit  
In any soldier's breast, than noble Momford's.  Y. Playn. 
I'll gauge my life Lord Momford will be loyal.  Bed. 
We would be loath to find him otherwise: Enter Momford.  
But here he comes himself, his eyes bewray  
Sorrow, as clouds foreshow a stormy day.  Monf. 
Better success betide my Noble Lords,  
Than hath befallen the miserable Momford.  Bed. 
What hath befallen thee?  Momf. 
Guynes, Guynes, is betrayed.  Bed. 
And when must Calais be surrendered?  Momf. 
Never while Momford hath the charge of it.  Bed. 
Yes, if thou have the charge of it this night  
It must be yielded unto false Veleires.  
Here's a large promise of ten thousand Marks,  
Your praise for Fridays work in yielding Guynes.  
Know you this hand? Oh that on silver hairs.  
After much honour won in flowering Youth,  
Should sit so huge a shame as on thine doth.  Momf. 
My Lord! Lords all! this is conspiracy.  Bed. 
True, conspiracy in thee, for there he stands  
That should have brought that Letter to thy hands.  Momf. 
This fellow fled from Hance Beamart the Traitor,  
The Walloon Captain that betrayed the lantern,  
And so by consequence the Fort of Guynes.  Bed. 
Momford no more, his free confession  
Hath purchased his pardon, fellow stay  
Amongst our English, and expect good pay.  Swiz. 
Thank had mine Here, lets Jacob gilt habben,  
And Ick sall fight wid ten hundred thousand devils. Exit Switz.  Momf. 
Shall such a one touch Momford's reputation?  Bed. 
These Letters and the accidents succeeding  
Condemn thee, and thou know'st by Law of Arms  
Thou merit'st death with more than common torture:  
But thy exceeding valour of●en tried,  
Sets open Mercies gate, whose gentle hand  
Leads thee from death, but leaves thee banished  
From England, and the Realms and Provinces  
Under protection of the English King,  
Only thy Lands and Goods thou shalt enjoy,  
And wheresoever from them be still maintained.  Momf. 
My gracious Lord!  Bed. 
Thou findest but too much grace.  Momf. 
Here me but speak.  Bed. 
No more; we must away,  
To win by force the Town thou didst betray. Exeunt.  Momf. 
Oh miserable! miserable man! Falls.  West. 
Why do you faint? why fall you on the ground?  Sir Rob. 
Cousin arise.  
Manet Momford Sir Rob. Y. Playnsey, and Cap. Westford.  Y. Playn. 
Father, you are my Father!  
The Lady Elizabeth your noble Daughter  
Is my affied wife, for her sake rise,  
And stop this tide of woe that drowns your eyes.  Momf. 
Oh miserable, miserable Man!  
Dishonours-abject, base reproaches scorn,  
Why was mine age to this disaster born?  Cap. West. 
Comfort yourself, let not condemned despair  
Add to your sorrow, more than common care.  
If you be just, as I suppose you be,  
Know Innocence ends not in misery;  
Kings have had falls, great soldiers overthrown,  
No riches in this earth is a man's own,  
He strives, he toils, with many pains he takes it,  
In an age gets it, in one hour forsakes it.  Enter Luce the laundress and 3 others. Victualler. 
he's yonder yet, he's digraced, and can do us no more good,  
Therefore let every man ask his own. Follow me Sirs,  
I'll speak to the purpose and stand too't.  Luce. 
Nay Sutler by your leave I'll stand to the best man in the Army,  
And have my due before the proudest of ye, if I do not,  
Say Luce the Landress is your she-ass to bear for others,  
I'll venture upon him, let him take it as he will. Enter soldier  All. 
Do Luce, we'll be ruled by thee.  Luce. 
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 washed you, and trimed you, and starched you, and as I have done for you, I have done my part with all your company, here's my Bill, I pray see me crossed.  Momf. 
What do I owe thee woman?  Luce. 
Nine pound, nine shillings, and nine pence my Lord.  Momf. 
There's 10 pound for thee.  Luce, 
Oh good Noble man! that ever, that ever I should see thee thus down, adown!  Victualler. 
Your poor victualler Sir, where your lordship's men went o'th' ticket.  Armour. 
Your armourer an't please your honour.  Carter. 
Your Carter Sir for carriages.  Momf. 
What owe I thee?  Victualler. 
Some( 7 marks) an't like ye.  Monf. 
What thee?  Armour. 
Twelve pound.  Momf. 
What thee?  Carter. 
About some 20 Nobles.  Momf. 
there's 30 pound amongst ye, all Thave,  
The Treasurer owes me some two thousand Marks.  All 4. 
God bless ye Sir, and send it ye.  Exeunt Luce and the rest. Momf. 
Wherhfore stayest thou my Friend? Oh I know thee now!  
Thou art not impudent, thou canst not beg,  
Thou art a soldier, and thy wound-plowed face  
Hath every furrow filled with falling tears,  
That arms and honour should be thus disdained.  
I have no gold to give thee, but this chain,  
I pray thee take it friend, thou griev'st at me,  
And I am grieved thy want and wounds to see.  Sould. 
My silent prayer my heart's love shall express.  
Heaven succour you, as you help my distress.  Momf. 
Brother Sir Robert, if you do not scorn  
Momford's disgraced name, and Mr. Playnsey,  
Son I should call ye if all vows be kept,  
Will you vouchsafe to tarry here a while  
Till I go down unto the treasurer's tent?  
It may be he will pay me all my due.  Y. Playn. 
Father I'll wait for you, and weep for woe,  
That I have lived to see your overthrow.  Sir Rob. 
Well, I'll stay too, or bear ye company,  
For your distress doth make my woes abound.  Momf. 
Come cousin Captain Westford walk with me.  Cap. West. 
To do you good I'd go though't be to death.  Exeunt. Manet Sir Robert, and young Playnsey. Sir Rob. 
Ha, ha, ha, gill, gill, gill, I have been teady to burst.  
Son pray thee tell me how thou laidest this plot?  Y. Playn. 
Marry Sir Robert thus, when I perceived  
Your great desire for Momford's overthrow,  
I got intelligence at Amiens,  
How one Beaumart a Captain in Guynes Fort  
Offered to sell it to the Governor,  
Having this light, about a two months since,  
I wilfully was taken Prisoner,  
Born into Amiens, where I was confirmed  
And knew the very time of taking Guynes,  
On Thursday evening I attired myself  
Like Veleires Secretary Lanclot,  
Came to the Prison where the Swisser lay,  
For I had liberty to walk the Town,  
Had all my Ramsome ready sent by Momford,  
And only tarried for our English Drum,  
That should exchange French Prisoners for the English,  
The Switzar being one that stayed with us.  Sir Rob. 
So, I understand ye; but in the end  
How dealt ye with the Switzar for the Letter?  Y. Playn. 
I brought it home in secret, gave him charge  
To give it Momford with all able speed,  
Promising 30 Crowns, besides those ten  
I gave him first, of noble Momford's bounty:  
He took me for Veleires secretary;  
But now you see the end, Momford's disgraced,  
And I am unsuspected in this case.  Sir Rob. 
Excellent good! I hug thee gentle Playnsey.  Y. Playn. 
But tell me pray, How goes all in England?  Sir Rob. 
Marry I'll tell thee Gill, thy father's Ward  
The Lady Ellenor, shall be his Wife.  Y. Playn. 
The Duke of Gloster will not suffer that.  Sir Rob. 
Tut, tut, it's all but talk, it's all but lies;  
So does the Cardinal make show of Love,  
But little tittle tattle, all's but talk,  
He shall have Lady Ellenor no ●,  
Say she die childless, there is land for you,  
You marry with my daughter, she's my heir,  
Still Mr. Playnsey there is land for you;  
I'll turn out Momford's daughter forth of doors,  
Seize all her goods and lands by a device;  
Still Mr. Playnsey there is Land for you.  Y. Playn. 
But how I pray? What colour have you for it?  Sir Rob. 
Marry Son thus, About a twelve month since  
Momford in trust made me a Deed of Gift  
Of all he had, excepting certain land  
Mortgaged unto a Norfolk man, one Strowd of Harling,  
Now Sir I am acquainted with an odd Consort,  
One Canbee, that doth serve the Cardinal.  Y. Playn. 
Oh he can cheat, take purses, forge men's hands.  Sir Rob. 
The same, the same, he razed out that Exception,  
And put in other matter to my liking:  
So I'll defeat old Strowd, turn out Bess Momford,  
All shall be mine, and after mine all thine.  Y. Playn. 
No more, Momford returns.  Enter Momford, and Captain Westford. Momf. 
Captain, Ye see  
That men dejected bust bear injury.  
He knows I am exiled, and cannot stay,  
And yet he drives me to a longer day.  Cap. Westford, 
There is a hundred pound, ye shall not choose.  Sir Rob. 
I faith my Noble Cozen, I and Playnsey  
Are without money, but send into England,  
Ye shall not want for 20 thousand pound.  Momf. 
Brother Sir Robert I put trust in you,  
This Ring shall come within a day or two.  Sir Rob. 
I cannot speak for grief!  Momf. 
No more can I,  
This wind ere the Sun set will let you see  
London, that ne'er must be beheld of me.  
Commend me to my Daughter, love her Playnsey;  
Part silent, let your sighs serve for reply. They embrace. Exeunt, manet Momf.  
Captain think on Strowd's mortgage, and farewell.  
They shall see London, they shall see my Child,  
But Momford must not, for he is exiled.  
I am exiled, Yet I will England see,  
And live in England' Spite of infamy.  
In some disguise I'll live, perhaps I'll turn  
A Beggar, for a beggar's life is best,  
His diet is in each man's kitchen dressed,  
But first I'll like an aged soldier  
Carry mine own Ring to Sir Robert Westford,  
They say 'tis good to try Friends, him I'll try.  
Though I believe he love me steadfastly. Ex. Momf.  Enter old Playnsey, and Lady Ellenor. Lady. 
Sir Walter Playnsey.  Old. Playn. 
Lady Ellenor,  
You are too strong in this opinion,  
I yield you are my wardship, and that desire  
To your revenues, more than true heart's love,  
Enforced me beg your wardship of the King.  Lady. 
I do believe you Sir, for did you look  
Into my State with an indifferent eye,  
Or love me half so well as you make show,  
You would—  Old Playn. 
Come, come, I know what you would say,  
You think I am your Foe, because I keep you  
From private conference with the Duke of Gloster,  
And his proud Uncle the Lord Cardinal,  
That divers times have practised sundry plots  
To steal you from my house.  Lady. 
Your love's but feigned,  
Because you say you love me for my living.  Old Playn. 
I say my first love took first life from thence,  
But since more dear familiarity  
Hath brought forth perfect and true shapen love.  
I love you Lady, and you are mine own,  
Mine in possession, and I do intend  
To make you mine by lawful marriage,  
Then blame me not if being all my joy,  
And the high-prized Jewel of my heart,  
I overlook you with a wary eye,  
Lest Gloster, or the Bastard Cardinal  
Should with their swelling Protestations, Knock.  
Cheat my fair meaning of thy hopeful love. Enter a Serv.  Serv. 
Sir here's a Servant from the Duke of Gloster  
Hath brought you Letters.  Old Playn. 
How! Letters to me!  
No thou mistakest, they come to Ellenor,  Enter Gloster disguised with a Letter. Glost. 
My Lord and Master greets Sir Walter Playnsey,  Old Playn. 
I do accept his honourable love  
With more than mean or ordinary care. Reads  
He doth entreat me to come and speak with him  
About some certain Letters come from France,  
Touching the present fortunes of my Son  
Lately ta'en Prisoner by the bloody French.  
He shall command far more than he entreats. Knocks.  
How now? whose that which knocks? Enter Serv.  Serv. 
One of the Cardinal's men.  Old Playn. 
Bid him to come in.  Enter the Cardinal disguised with Letters. Card. 
Sir Walter Playnsey,  
From my Lord Cardinal's grace of Winchester  
I greet thee well, and charge thee without stay  
To come, and answer such objections  
As may by him be laid unto thy charge  Glost. 
Oh you should be his Sumner by your message.  Card. 
And if I do not take my marks amiss  
Thou shouldest be Gloucester's scullion.  Glost. 
How ye Groom?  
I am as good a man, and better born  
Than upstart Bewford the base Cardinal.  Card. 
Sirrah! wert not thou in presence of this Lady  
Whose love my Lord doth prize above his life,  
I'd scorn to take these braves at Gloucester's hands,  
Much less at thine. Madam know I am Bewford,  
And for your love do undergo this scorn.  Lady. 
Then for my love let all these quarrels cease,  
For fear Sir Walter do discover you.  Glost. 
Hadst thou been Servant to the meanest man  
That breathes in England, being legitimate,  
I would have born with thee: but thou to brave me,  
Whose Master I esteem as basely on,  
As on thy words, I cannot put it up,  
For Madam know, that howe'er diguised  
My name is Gloster, who holds scorn—  Lady. 
No more,  
If ever I had interest in your love,  
show it in silence, that's the Cardinal  
Who comes diguised, armed with some base resolve  
To get me hence by foreign violence.  Glost. 
Is't possible that this disguise should mere,  
So just with mine?  Lady. 
'Tis true, he told me all.  Glost. 
Wooed we were well rid of his company.  Lady. 
Do you but send away Sir Walter Playnsey,  
Let me alone to pack the Cardinal.  Both. 
What do you say Sir Walter?  Old Playn. 
There is some hidden secret in this message  
Which Playnsey sounds not, but I'll go to them both.  Glost. 
But Sir I hope you'll go to Gloster first.  Card. 
And why to Gloster first?  Glost. 
Because he's the betcer man.  Card. 
He lies that says it.  Glost. 
Were the Cardinal  
Bewford himself apparelled in thy clothes, Draw.  
I'd cross his pare for giving me the lie.  Old Playn. 
Keep the King's peace Sir.  Glost. 
Sir Walter, so I will,  
Yet the worst boy that feeds on Gloucester's beef,  
Holds it high scorn to pocket up the lie  
At ere a summoner's hand that follows Bewford.  Card. 
Thou durst not speak this in another place?  Glost. 
Yes here, or anywhere to Bewford's face,  
Even to his teeth, and I would thou wert he.  Card. 
Shall I be braved! oh I could tear my flesh,  
And eat his heart for this disparagement,  
I fear he knows me, and to work my shame  
He braves me thus before my Mrs. face,  
But Bewford with a shower of patience,  
Lay the rough wind of thy distempered thoughts  
For my vexed Soul hath ta'en a solemn oath  
Ne'er to kiss comfort till I be revenged.  Old Playn. 
Nay Gentlemen, howsoever private brawls  
Have set your Lords and Masters at debate,  
Let my entreats so much prevail with you,  
As in my house to use no violence,  
And so I pray rest pleased, for ere I sleep  
I do intend to visit both my Lords.  
Will't please you to walk along for company?  Card. 
I would, but I must stay an hour or two  
About some other business in the Town.  Glost. 
About my Love you mean, but Cardinal  
Here's one will do that business to your hand.  Old Playn. 
Why then farewell to you both. Exit old Plain.  Both. 
A due Sir Walter Playnsey.  Lady. 
A word with you my good Lord Cardinal,  
Your brother's man seems very quarrelsome,  
And should you both stay, there might grow some jars,  
Which to prevent, I would entreat your grace  
To walk before into the spital fields.  
Whilst with good words I send away this Fellow,  
Which done, I'll choose my opportunity,  
And in the absence of Sir Walter Playnsey  
Get out, and meet you at the Orchard-gate,  
And there conclude about some stratage me  
To make you Master of your own desires.  Card. 
Enough sweet Lady: Sirrah Horse-courser,  
I'll course you one day for your Jadish tricks.  Glo. 
Jades a fit Title for an ass like thee,  
That canst not kick, but bear all injury. Manet Glo. & Elle.  
Come Madam now let's go, the Cardinal's mad  
To lose thee thus, then banish hence all fear,  
Gloster is on thy side. Exeunt.  Enter Canbee and Hadland, and Cardinal. Can. 
Sirrah Jack.  Had. 
What sayest thou Frank.  Can. 
How you base Rogue, ne'er an( M.) under your Gidle, have I preferred thee to my good Lord Cardinal here, and am I no better than your homesome Frank.  Had. 
Canbee, let me ne'er take purse again, and I think not, but thou and this Tom Tawny coat here gull me, make me your cheat, your gull, your strewed, your Norfolk Dumpling, whom when you cheated him of his satin-suit, left naked bed to the mercy of his hostess.  Can. 
And I damn thee not for thy unbelief. Call Canbee Coward think'st thou) I wooed have lost this evening's work, but for my Noble, my Princely Lord Cardinal? no.  Had. 
That's some reason indeed, but Prince and Cardinal if thou be, Jack-hadland swears by the bawled Crown of King Carnifax the meeting thy greatness this evening has damnified our receipts at least six purses.  Card. 
Be what you will be both, only be resolute  
In any quarrel against Gloucester's men,  
And on mine honour I'll reward ye well.  Can. 
My Lord, and ye were able to give him as much Land as would lie between Winchester and Walsingham, he wooed be your prigger, your prancer, your high-lawyer, your—  Had. 
Your nipper, your foist, your rogue, your cheat, your pander, your any vild thing that may be, sblood the worst that any man can say of me is, that I am a tall thief, and the best that any man can say of thee is, that thou art a base Rogue and a Cheater.  Can. 
I'll jerk ye for this ye slave.  Card. 
Nay Sirs be Friends, hold ye, here's gold,  
Do but assist me against Gloucester's life  
And I'll reward you better.  Had. 
Cardinal, wert thou Cardinal King of the Infernals, were thou Prince of Grim-tarter-tarmagant and Erebus, I wooed not shed one drop of the worst Dogs blood my Duke of Gloster keeps, for thy mitre, thy million, thy metropolis, shall I betray his life that saved me from the death of a Dog? no. Yet for my honest friend Frank Canbees' sake, I am content to stand by, and give aim at this time.  Enter Gloster and Ellenor. 
See where he comes two of ye are enough to deal with one, I'll not meddle with him.  Card. 
Let's set upon him all, and kill the slave.  Glost. 
Hast thou betrayed me Coward? Bewford know  
Though I am over-matcht I am not killed.  Enter old Playnsey, young Playnsey, Captain West. and Oficers. Old Playn. 
Keep the King's peace for shame my Lords.  Card. 
Come Canbee follow me, Playnsey be sure  
I'll sit upon your skirts for parting us.  Glost. 
Bewford Thou Mayst befriend him with thy power,  
Had not he been, thou hadst not breathed this air.  Card. 
Gloster thou wrong'st me, with-holdest St. Johnse's,  
Look too't, for fear when I get entery  
I pull not down the Castle o'er thine ears:  Glost. 
Cardinal to spite thee I'll keep Ellenor,  
And wed her in St. Johnse's make her my Duchess.  Card. 
Thou wilt abuse her with lascivious lust,  
As once thou didst the Earl of Flanders wife,  
And make her wretched, hoping in thy love.  Glost. 
Oh! your holiness would have her turn a Nun,  
Your cloyster-lemmon but she minds thee not;  
Fellow what ere thou art that tak'st my part  
There's 20 Crowns, go prove an honest man  Card. 
There's 40 for thee, Canbee, kill that slave  
A● ever thou intend'st my Love to have.  Can. 
I will take my time my Lord.  Had. 
Canbee come not near me, thou knowest my ancient order▪ They die that dare me: but if thou dare meet me, hark in thine ear, disturb not these honourable personages.  Can. 
Be brief, appoint the place of meeting, subito, subito.  Had. 
At our Old Hostises mad rogue to make merry, lay a fresh plot to meet the Norfolk gull, and be blithe.  Can. 
Agreed, and I meet thee not, baffle my good name, & chronicle Canbee for a Coward, my Lord I will have a limb of that Rogue.  Ca●. 
I shall be mindful of thee Canbee: if thou kill him  
Base slave, had not he been Gloster had died?  Glost. 
I am sorry Gentlemen for Momford's fall,  
And for our Brother the Lord Regents anger,  
Let him pull down the pride of Winchester,  
And Gloster easily will be appeased.  Card. 
Humphrey nor Bedford, nor thyself hath power  
To make Lord Bewford stoop; dost thou forget,  
I am a Prince, and a Plantagenet?  Glost. 
Bastards were never Princes in their state.  Card. 
I am a Prince elected by the Pope.  Glost. 
I'll make ye gladly fly to your Elector.  Card. 
First will I see thy death Witless Protector. Draw again.  Old Playn. 
Keep the King's peace my Lords.  Card. 
Look to't, I'll rouse you and your minions,  
Out of St. Johnse's ere a week be spent.  Can. 
Sir we'll rouse ye, we— Ex. Card. and Canbee.  Glost. 
Would never greater care came near my heart;  
Could I have had my will in my Loves sight.  
This evening had been Bewford's latest night.  
But to the purpose, now Sir Walter Playnsey  
Take no exceptions as you love our favour,  
That Lady Ellenor's escaped away.  Old Playn. 
Is she escaped away my Lord?  Glost. 
She is, nay storm not,  
For if you do your anger is in vain,  
I'll answer any Duty for her wardship.  
So rest yourself content; if ye rest quiet  
And will confirm your ward to be my wife,  
I'll send ye within six days six thousand pound,  
Being more than you can get by course of Law.  Old Playn. 
I but my Lord her sudden taking hence—  Glost. 
Nay, nay, stand not on terms, take this or choose▪  
Send word ye love us, or our Loves refuse.  
Come Captain Westford bring us to St. Johnses. Ex. Glost. & Cap. West.  Y. Playn. 
Here's a good world when every Duke is King;  
Thus I see power can master any thing.  Old Playn. 
I son, else durst not you and old Sir Robert  
Being but new come from the dejected Father,  
Offer such open wrong to Momford's Daughter.  Y. Playn. 
Father I'll answer that upon the way  
Please ye to walk but to Sir Robert Westfords.  Enter Momford like a soldier. Momf. 
Save ye Gentlemen, pray can ye tell me  
Whether Sir Robert Westford lie in London.  
Or at his Summer-house?  Old Playn. 
He lies at Stepny fellow.  
Follow us we'll bring thee thither presently. Ex. Playnsey.  Momf. 
That's Playnsey and his son, I'll follow him,  
And try my Brother Westford ere I need,  
Already have I took a little Cottage  
On Bednall-Green, pretending myself blind,  
Thither perhaps my gentle Child will come,  
For she's full of charitable alms.  
But howe'er now I shall surely see her  
Bringing my own seal as a Messenger,  
I'll follow after kind Sir Walter Playnsey,  
And his heroic son my daughter's Joy. Ex. Momf.   

ACT II.  Enter Sir Robert, Kate his Daughter, Bess Momford, and Swash. Kate. 
FAther you wrong me, and my cousin Momford,  
I marry Playnsey, troth plight unto her;  
Oh it's an impious match! I'll rather have  
Than such a marriage-bed, a dismal grave.  Sir Rob. 
Use no more words, no title tattle talk,  
The Priest is sent for, Playnsey is a coming,  
He shall have you, and you shall have his Land.  Kate. 
But for my cousin Bess—  Sir Rob. 
Your Cosen-Beggar, Child unto a traitor;  
Go to no more, come hark a word with me.  Enter Old Strowd, and wash. Old Str. 
Ha this is excellent, stripped of his clothes,  
His shirt stolen from his back, why this exceeds,  
This is a toy to mock an Ape withal.  Swash. 
Nay barlady Sir this toy has mocked as well-favoured a Youth, as your own Son.  Old Str. 
Hold ye, there's ten pound, go fetch him new clothes.  Swash. 
Nay Sir he wants no clothes, for he hath a Cloak laid on with gold lace, and an embroidered jerkin, and thus he is marching hither like the foreman of a Morris.  Old Stro. 
Not for 20 l. gold lace embroidered,  
I'll see how he is suited by and by.  Swash. 
I'll tell him so, but pray Mr. let me be at the wedding feast.  Old Stro. 
And there you'll be hoyting and kissing the Wenches you.  Swash. 
Not I indeed Master, I never use to kiss any, not I.  Old Stro. 
You know what complaints was made of you the last wedding you were at.  Swash. 
I thank ye Master ye made me stand in a white sheet for ye-  Old Stro. 
How for me Knave? go to thou liest, thou shalt not be there for that lie.  Swash. 
Pray let me go, there will be all the Youth of our Parish there, good Master?  Old Stro. 
Well Sir, go your way, but let me hear no ill of ye you were best.  Swash. 
I warrant ye Master, thank ye Sir, hay for our Town.  
Green now i'faith!  Old Stro. 
Go, get you gone, I fear we shall fall out,  
I wonder what Sir Robert does intend? Exit.  Sir Rob. 
Look to't, pine, pule, weep, sob, it shall be so,  
Thou shalt be Playnsey's wife who e'er says no.  Old Stro. 
Sir Robert since your cousin is refused  
By Mr. Gilbert Playnsey, if she please, and you agree  
Your cousin Elizabeth shall have Tom Strowd;  
You know he is my Heir, no Clown, no Swad,  
But held in Norfolk for a Lusty Lad.  Sir Rob. 
Let her take whom she will, all's one to me.  Old Stro. 
How say you Lady?  Bess. 
For Playnsey's sake  
The name of marriage I have sworn to hate.  Enter old Playnsey and his Son, Momford follows them. Sir Rob. 
Good morrow good Sir Walter and Son Playnsey,  
I trust Sir Walter gill hath let you know  
My purpose, for this marriage with my Daughter?  Old Playn. 
He tells me he is so resolved Sir Robert,  
And in his own power now consists his choice,  
But be assured, the searching eye of Heaven  
Sees every thought of man, take heed you two  
Answer not for each ill deed, and wrong ye do.  Sir Rob. 
Tut tut Sir Walter, God and we for that;  
Speak Mr. Playnsey, let Bess Momford hear  
How you resolve unto my Daughter Katherine.  Y. Playn. 
I come to marry her.  Kate. 
Think upon your Vow,  
See this sad Lady, when you went to France,  
You swore at your return to marry her.  Y. Playn. 
Fair be content, my mind therein is changed,  
Her Father is disgraced and exiled  
And therefore Playnsey's Son doth scorn his Child,  Bess. 
Do scorn me, leave me, every way abuse me,  
Death will receive me, though you all refuse me.  Sir Rob. 
Nay good Sir Walter be not discontent,  
Son Playnsey, Daughter Katherine, let's confer.  Old Stro. 
How say you Madam, will Sir Robert Westford  
Defeat me of the Land I have at mortgage,  
Take away all your Jewels, and your plate?  Bess. 
He says he will.  Old Stro 
Well let him and he dare.  
And if he wrong you Lady come to me.  
Momf. Wondrous amazement! what doth Momford see?  
Where he most trusted, most impiety.  Sir Rob. 
The Chaplain stays in heaven's name let us in,  
They shall be married in Bess Momford's sight.  Kate 
Father your malice to my cousin Momford,  
This deed of Playnsey whom you call my Husband,  
Whom I shall never love, never abide,  
Makes me to Death and Shame become a Bride:  
But Shame will quickly from my red cheeks fly,  
And Death will paint them with his ashy die.  Sir Rob. 
Come, come, leave prattling, Playnsey comfort Kate.  Y. Playn. 
Fair Love be frolic talk no more of death and care  
We'll sport, for I am young, and thou artfair.  
Farewell forsaken Turtle, take thy flight  
To some more abject mate whilst Kate and I, joys adore.  Kate. 
High Heaven forgive me, Father have remorse,  
Let me not thus be haled to death perforce. Ex. both.  Old Playn. 
Sir Robert Westford I mislike this match.  Old Stro. 
'Tis more than Injury, but Lady grieve not you.  Bess. 
No Sir I am patient.  Sir Rob. 
I pray you go in Sir Walter.  Old Playn. 
Yes I'll go in,  
But Heaven can tell, I hate this forced sin. Ex. old Plain.  Sir Rob. 
What will you do Mr. Strowd?  Old Stro. 
I scarcely know  
Your moods, and these affairs do ●●ll out so.  Sir Rob. 
Well at your pleasure, go Huswife get you in.  Bess. 
I will do what you will, yet ere I go  
Somewhat on this old man I will bestow,  
Thou seemest a maimed soldier, woe is me!  
I have a little Gold, good Father take it,  
And here's a Diamond do not forsake it;  
My Father was a soldier maimed like thee,  
Thou in thy limbs, he by viled infamy.  Old Stro. 
byth' mass I like her, she's a Momford right  
Of noble blood and the true Norfolk breed;  
Hold the good fellow there's one 40 pence  
From a poor yeoman's purse, old Strowd of Harling.  Momf. 
I thank you Sir, I have more than I deserve.  Sir Rob. 
I Sir, and more than you shall bear from hence  
Come Minx what jewel did you give this Rogue.  Momf. 
I am a soldier Sir, the name of Rogue  
Ill fits a man of your respect to give  
To a poor Gentleman, though in distress.  Sir Rob. 
A Gentleman! and why a Gentleman  
Because a soldier? Come you desper-view.  
Deliver me the jewel or I'll hang thee,  
To morrow is the Sessions, I'll make short,  
And shave your Gentry shorter by the neck,  
A Gentleman! come, come, give me the jewel,  
What makes your Gentry sneaking at my Gate?  Momf. 
I came from Momford banished in Britain,  
He prays ye by this token you would send  
A thousand Marks to help him in his need.  Sir Rob. 
Where do you lie Sir?  Momf. 
I lay last night with a Blind-Beggar  
That hath a little House on Bednall-Green.  Sir Rob. 
He came but yesterday, I heard of him  
Beggars keep lodging, well I'll hamper him,  
I know this token, and will keep the same:  
But have no 1000 Marks to maintain Rebels.  Momf. 
Base upstart Knight deliver Momford's Seal, Draw.  
Or by the honour of a soldier's name  
I'll slice thy heart out.  Sir Rob. 
Help me Mr. Strowd.  Old Stro. 
What help ye to do wrong?  
Nay by the rood, though Momford was exiled,  
'Twas told me he should have his Lands and Goods.  Sir Rob. 
There, take them, but do you hear me Sirrah  
Take heed I catch you not at the Blind-Beggars.  Momf. 
If I should lie there, though you be a justice,  
I trust to find Friends in my just defence.  Old Stro. 
Hold thee good fellow, there's the tother noble,  
byth' mass I like thee, thou'rt a tough old Lad  Momf. 
I thank you Sir, Lady I'll take my leave.  Bess. 
Commend me to my Father good old man.  Momf. 
I will, and tell him of Sir Roberts wrong.  Sir Rob. 
Do fellow, say, I scorn his treachery,  
And hope his end will be in misery.  Momf. 
I'll tell him what you say. Exit Momf.  Bess. 
Father farewell.  Sir Rob. 
Nay 'twere best ye packed,  
Beggar with Beggar, for ye shall away:  
Ha Huswife! are you giving Diamonds,  
Do you forget your Jewels are all mine,  
Did not old Westford pay for this attire?  
But off with it, go in, or either drudge  
Amongst my Servants to maintain your State,  
Or pack, stay not an hour.  Bess. 
You shall not need  
To bid me pack, for I'll be gone indeed. Exit Bess.  Sir Rob. 
To steal and hang, or starve and beg, choose which  Old Stro. 
Sir Robert by the— you do her wrong.  Sir Rob. 
What's that to you look to your own affairs,  
Strowd, Strowd, you think to have the Land at Farnam,  
I and shall, and shall—  Old Stro. 
And will, do you your worst.  Sir Rob. 
You're too saucy Strowd.  Old Stro. 
Too saucy moody Knight,  
Thou durst not thus in scorn to old Strowd prate,  
But cock on thine own hill, thus near thy Gate.  Sir Rob. 
I'll meet thee where thou dar'st, and when thou dar'st▪  Old Stro. 
I'll say thou'rt a tall man and thou dost.  Sir Rob. 
Appoint the place.  Old Stro. 
There is a new mown field  
Lying by Eastward of a little shed  
That stands on Bednall-Green.  Sir Rob. 
I know it, that's the shed the soldier lay in,  
The Close is compased with a quickset, is't not?  Old Stro. 
The same.  Sir Rob. 
I like it, what's the hour?  Old Stro. 
'Twixt one and two▪  Sir Rob. 
Hold the Strowd, there's my hand  
I'll meet thee, and I'll make thee know me too.  Old Stro. 
No more, I'll meet thee, else call me Jew. Exeunt.  Enter Tom Strowd and Swash his man, Gallant Y. Stro. 
London lick penny can ye it,— t'as licked me with a witness, I was set o'er for a reckoning of 40 shillings, and as fair a satin suit tother night, as a man shall lightly see in a summer's day; but if ere it be my fortune to meet with that ill faced Gipsy that stole it, I'll teach him his teripoop for stealing, whilst he hath a day to live again, so wool I: Nay nothing grieved me Swash, but that the slave persuaded me to lie 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'er 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 Christian man I blushed out of all—  Swash. 
Nay Master I told you at first you should find a sour fellow of that Gipsy, I liked him not he had such a crabtree-faced countenance of his own: but come my old Master sent me for you, you must along to the wedding to—  Y. Stro. 
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 Paul's-steeple, so do not I, but come Swash follow me, I'll to him, the—  Enter Canby, Hadland and Snip. Can. 
Tush man 'tis he, I know him as well as the Beggar knows his dish, 'tis he that I fetched over for the satin suit, 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.  Had. 
Be ruled 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.  Snip. 
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.  Canby takes the Wall, and jussels Strowd. Y. Stro. 
— What is the matter with you? so feather-eyed ye cannot let us pass in the King's high way?  Can. 
You must learn to know your Duty, and give your betters the wall.  Y. Stro. 
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.  Had. 
What do you prate, nay then have at you Sir.  Y. Stro. 
— And have at you too then e'faith. They fight.  Can. 
Hold, as you are a Gentleman hold.  Y. Stro. 
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 Gipsy you shall fare the worse for one of your Coats sake, that robbed me of a satin suit t'other night,— and well remembered where's my Cloak Swash?  Swash. 
Your Cloaks a good Cloak, take the wall of my Master ye slave you.  Y. Stro 
I think the fellow be mad,— where's my Cloak man.  Swash. 
Your Cloak's good Cloak and a fair Cloak, quarrel with my Mr. ye scabs you.  Y. Stro. 
I think the fellow's frompall, I ask thee where my Cloak is.  Can. 
Let not a man pass unsearched, the Gentleman shall not lose the worth of a mite in my company.  Had. 
I hope Sir you will not suspect my Boy nor me?  Y. Stro. 
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.  Can. 
— Sir you mishap lies 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( Simple though it be) cost me 40 French Crowns, take it, it is at your service.  Y. Stro. 
Forty French Crowns, forty French Pins, what dost thou tell me of thy Cloak? I scorn to wear ere a man's 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'd bang this Bacon fanned slave o'erthwart his shaoks, he should remember stealing a Cloak to doom's day, so should he.  Had. 
Why Sir I hope you know no harm by me were it in place, where I'd say, he lied in his Throat that but touched the very hem of my reputation with reproach.  Y. Stro. 
Woled say I lie? 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 hanged, what sayest thou to it now? and thou be'st aggrieved mend thyself how thou canst, or how thou darest, dosted see now. Nay Swah yonder's my father, say nothing of my Cloak Swash.  Enter old Strowd. Old Stro. 
Well, if I live I'll meet Sir Robert Westford,  
But first I'll see if I can find my Son,  
And here he is, is't possible my Lands A jerkin or jacket for Strowd.  
Should maintain this Attire, you Podigal  
Where have you got this trash, unto whose Books  
Are you indebted for it, pardon me Gentlemen  
For being so sawey in your company;  
'Tis not for a poor Country yeoman's son  
To flaunt it out thus.  Can. 
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 enamoured with his good parts and valour.  Old Strow. 
Nay Gentlemen thus much I'll say for him,  
he's a right Norfolk-man mettle, all steel:  
But I'll not have him use his bravery.  
The time has been when as a Norfolk yeoman  
That might dispend 500 marks a year  
Would▪ wear such clothe as this sheep's russets grey,  
And for my Son shall be no precedent  
To break those orders, come off with this trash  
Your bought Gentility, that sits on thee  
Like Peacock's feathers cocked upon a Raven.  
Let true born Gentlemen were gentry's robes,  
And Yeoman Country seeming Liveries.  Y. Stro. 
— You'd have the Calf with the white face I think, I am sure yonder's 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 King's Books than he. and pay more scot and lot a fair deal, so ye do.  Old Stro. 
He is a desperate castaway like thee,  
And wrongs his father's credit and his own;  
The Sons discent's no better than her fathers.  
Why should their clothes be richer? I am as proud,  
And think myself as gallant in this grey,  
Having my Table furnished with good Beef.  
Norfolk temes-bread, and Country homebred drink,  
As he that goeth in rattling taffety.  
Let Gentlemen go gallant what care I,  
I was a Yeoman born, and so I'll die;  
Then if thou be'st my Son be of my mind,  
Wast less in rags and spend more in thine House,  
Or if thou hast no House to spend it in  Swash. 
Go to a Bawdy-house Mr.  Old Stro. 
How Knave to a Bawdy-house, no sirrah no  
give it maimed soldiers, and poor helpless Widows.  
Off with this trash, on with this seemly weed,  
Be not Strowd's shadow but be Strowd indeed.  Y. Stro. 
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.  Swash. 
You say true Master, come on with this Jerkin, so now young Master you look like yourself, and like my Master's son.  Old Stro 
Son what are these that keep you company?  Y. Stro. 
A couple of honest proper Gentlemen they seem to be, but all's 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.  Old Stro. 
Then still consort thee with these Gentlemen, I like the carriage of them passing well.  Y. Stro. 
I a murrain on 'em they they have carried away my Cloak amongst 'em.  Old Stro. 
But let that pass.  Swash. 
I Sir 'tis past and gone too.  Old Stro. 
And come along with me to Mile end to my Lodging.  
I must talk a couple of cold words with Sir Robert Westford.  
Go Swash afore, and saddle my bay Nag,  
Perhaps I'll ride a mile or two to night:  
Kind Gentlemen, I am somewhat troublesome  
To press thus rudely into your company;  
Come Gentlemen, I'll gratulate your Loves  
And your kind favours used unto my Son. Ex. Strowds.  Can. 
And we live we'll make him spend your living, come Jack let's go, where's Snip.  Had. 
Oh Sir at my sweet Boss the brokers, near 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.  Can. 
Let's to't and turn again to meet this Gull,  
we'll fleece him and his Bags we they ne'er so full. Exeunt.  Enter Bess Momford. Bess. 
Oh hapless, hapless, miserable wretch!  
To lose my wealth and all my father's Lands  
Did never move me; but to see my Uncle  
Cheat me of all my Jewels, and in spite  
Even to my face marry my troth-plight Husband  
To his own Daughter, and to see young Playnsey  
Embrace another in my promised bed,  
And I thrust out upon the wedding day;  
Oh this is it that drives me full of woe  
Into this sad and solitary Green!  
Here to do violence unto myself.  Momf. 
My Daughter in despair, then play thy part,  
Prevent her ills that did procure her smart,  
Alas where am I? how shall I return  
Unto my homely cabin? where's my boy?  
I prithee do not leave me gentle wag,  
Take pity of my miserable state.  Bess. 
Who talks of pity? now alas good man,  
What are you blind?  Momf. 
Yes blind, and like to die,  
Not for my own, but for thy misery.  Bess. 
Father be comforted, I am but poor,  
Yet time has been— sigh.  Momf. 
Oh do not sigh Girl,  
Grief hath so tyrannised upon my heart  
That if you mourn my tears will bear a part.  Bess. 
You are the man I look for.  Momf. 
I am indeed,  
And yet thou know'st me not, alas the while  
That blind deceit, should clear eyed love beguile,  
Whence spring thy sorrows from some private wrong.  Bess. 
Am I asleep, or do I know his tongue,  
Art thou blind sayest thou, let me see thy face,  
Oh let me kiss it too, and with my tears  
Wash off these blemishes which cruel time  
Have furrowed in thy cheeks! Oh could thou see,  
I'd show thine eyes whom thou dost represent.  
I called thee father, I thou shalt be my father,  
Nor scorn my proffer, were my father here,  
he'd tell thee that his Daughter held him dear:  
But in his absence Father, thou art he,  
Shed but one tear for him, and I for thee  
will weep, till from the moister of mine eyes  
A little font of crystal tears, shall rise  
To bathe thine eye lids in, yet do not weep;  
Lay all thy griefs on me, for I am young,  
And I have tears enough to weep much wrong.  Momf. 
Wilt thou remain with me; I dare not speak  
For fear my tongue should my heart's counsel break.  Bess. 
I'll dwell, I'll tend thee, I'll do any thing  
To do thee good, because within thy looks  
I see the presence of my reverend Father.  Momf. 
Hast'● lost thy Father then?  Bess. 
Father! I have,  
List to my words and I will tell thee how.  Momf. 
First lead me to my Cottage, there relate  
From the beginning all thy downcast state. Exeunt:  Enter Sir Robert Westford, and Captain Westford. Sir Rob. 
I tell thee Captain Westford I have done  
No more than I can answer, I and will.  Cap. West. 
Nay cousin Westford misconceit me not,  
Or if thou do all's one, I say again,  
You showed a cruel part, and would the Maid  
Be rused by me your Betters should decide it.  Sir Rob. 
Decide a pin's end, do you take her part,  
Each one you saw did seek to get their own,  
Why should not I then? shall I undergo  
Public displeasure for a pawltry Girl;  
She comes not in mine ears.  Cap. West. 
The more unkind  
And cruel you, but wherefore should you marry  
Young Playnsey to your Child, considering  
He was the troth-plight Husband to your kinswoman,  
The much wronged Daughter of the downtrod Momford.  Sir Rob. 
Alas for her, does she complain to you,  
Why and she want a Husband you are a bachelor,  
You may do well to take her.  Cap. West. 
You had done better,  
Had not your avarice broke the contract,  
'twixt her and Playnsey.  Sir Rob. 
Well Sir, I will answer what I have done,  Cap. West. 
Not one word more Sir.  Enter old Strowd, young Strowd, and Swash. Old Stro. 
I marry Sir, why this is somewhat like,  
Now art thou like thyself, but stand aside,  
who's that, Sir Robert? he's as good's his word,  
The Captain with him, ah he promised me  
To meet me single  Sir Rob. 
Pacify yourself,  
What I have done I'll stand to, pray forbear,  
I'll talk a word or two with Master Strowd,  
What's here his son, how and his man too? ha  
That's more than promise.  Old Stro. 
Now Sir Robert Westford you are an early riser,  Sir Rob. 
My last nights promise wakened me afore my hour,  
Send hence your Son.  Old Stro. 
'Tis good, I like you well, send hence your Kinsman,  
Yet 'tis no matter, I have a device  
Shall rid them all, God save you Captain Westford,  
Thanks for your friendly company last night.  Cap. West. 
I take your greetings kindly Mr. Strowd,  
And with the tongue of love return it back  
With double interest, pray is not this your Son.  Old Stro. 
I cannot tell, his Mother tells me so.  Cap. West. 
I shall desire your more acquaintance Sir.  Y. Stro. 
I thank you Sir, I am easier to be acquainted with all, than to borrow money on, I thank my father, but and it please you to drink a Cup of beer or ale, and you'll but walk over the Green to the red lattice yonder, I'll bestow it on you.  Cap West. 
Thanks Mr. Strowd, pray walk to my Chamber,  
I am desirous to impart my love  
Unto your kind acceptance.  Old Stro. 
Sir I thank you for him.  
Please you to walk to Mile end with my Son  
And this good fellow, I'll but talk a word  
In secret here with Sir Robert Westford,  
About Lord Momford's Lands, and follow ye.  Capt. West. 
At your good pleasure wilt please you walk Mr. Strowd?  Y. Stro. 
Pray lead the way, I'll follow you come hither Swash▪ and it had pleased my Father, I might a had as gallant apparel 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'll make all fly then e'faith. Exeunt.  Old Stro. 
So they are gone, and now Sir Robert Westford.  
Think of your last night's quarrel.  Sir Rob. 
Tut, tut, ne'er prate,  Old Stro. 
Thus I revenge my wrong, Thus I defend  
The truth, and reputation of my cause.  Sir Rob. 
O I am slain. They fight, and Sir Rob. falls.  Old Stro. 
Then Heaven receive thy Soul,  
And pardon me, thy Conscience can tell  
I never wished unto thy Soul but well. Ex. Strowd.  Enter Momford. Momf. 
What piteous groan calls Momford from his Cell,  
Whose this my Brother Westford? what and slain!  
Heaven thou art just; he that last day for Gold  
Did sell my Daughter, is himself now sold  
Into the hands of death. Momford dissemble,  
Daughter come forth, and look about this Close,  
I heard one groan. Enter Bess:  Bess. 
And here's a bloody corpse.  Momf. 
Look if thou know'st it.  Bess. 
Oh 'tis my Uncle Westford,  
He that last day with his commanding breath  
Chid me out of his doors, now breathless lies  
Entreating me, to give his mingled body  
A homely entertainment in our Cell.  
Heaven thou art just, and dreadful is thy judgement.  Momf. 
Glory not in his Fall, but rather grieve  
That in his end thou canst him not relieve:  
Let's bear him in, and if we can by Art  
Upon thy Foe, we'll work a friendly part:  
For have he but the smallest sign of breath,  
We'll recall life, and rescue him from Death.  
But howsoe'er the Body stays with me, Exeunt with the body.  
Till Justice points him out that murdered thee.  Enter old Strowd, young Strowd, and Swash. Old Stro. 
Saddle my horse, there Swash run  
Where's my Son?  Y. Stro. 
At hand quoth pickpurse,— what's the matter with you trow?  Old Stro 
Good Son leave prating, Swash where's my horse?  
I am undone, go post to Chenford, run to Mr. Glasscock,  
Give him my Seal-ring, desire him send me.  
Where's my horse I say, the 100 pound he owes me, where's Captain Westford, take heed he hear me not, Lord how my heart pants in my bosom, I have slain a man.  Swash. 
Slain a man! oh oh oh oh.  Y. Stro. 
Peace Swash do not cry so.  Swash. 
No, I do not cry, I do but roar.  Old Stro. 
I had not the power to keep it longer,  
Nor to take my horse till I confessed it.  Enter Captain Westford, and Officers. Capt. West. 
Lay hold on him, and Mr. Strowd once more,  
Confess thy guilt.  Old Stro. 
Why Sir? I not deny  
Sir Robert Westford doing me much wrong,  
Is by me slain.  Cap. West. 
And you for this offence,  
Shall be conducted safely unto Prison,  
Till matters may be better thought upon,  
Mean time your own confession is my warrant.  Y. Stro. 
My Father kill a man,— here's a jest to mock an Ape withal, what shall become of me now: Swash hie thee to Chenford for the 100 pound, and soon towards Evening I'll 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. Ex. Swash.  Old Stro. 
Well Gentlemen I do obey the Law,  
And yield my body Prisoner to the King,  
Soon work what means ye can for my reprieve  
Till we may sue for pardon. So adieu my Son,  
Heaven give thee grace such desperate bralls to shun. Exeunt.  Y. Stro. 
Get a reprieval call you it,— I know no more how to go about it, than I know how to build Paul's-steeple so I do not: but I'll go seek out a Gentleman, one Frank Canby that served the Cardinal, 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 penny in the purse, it shall go hard but I'll save my father from hanging that's certain. Ex. music.   

ACT III.  Enter Momford, with Sir Rob. and Bess. Sir Rob. 
GOod Father! gentle Maiden set me down,  
My wound I fear will freshly bleed again,  
I prithee let thy Daughter make a bed,  
I fear my deathbed, good now send her in.  Momf. 
Daughter I pray go in and make the bed,  
If we need help I'll call you, pray you begone.  Bess. 
It doth torment him to behold my sight,  
Well Heaven forgive him and restore his health,  
He did me more than wrong, and if I see  
He be at point of death, I'll let him know,  
That I am Momford's child he wronged so. Exit Bess.  Sir Rob. 
Father lend me thy hand now in Heaven's eye  
Swear to be secret till thou see me dead,  
Or of this wound by the recovered;  
Know first I am a Knight, my Name is Westford,  
My Wife was Sister to the Baron Momford, Ready for a Hangman's will.  
That Momford left his Daughter to my trust,  
Which Daughter I have this day turned forth  
To seek her living, and from her have kept  
Above ten thousand Marks, besides the Lands  
Mortgaged unto one Strowd a Norfolk Yeoman,  
That Strowd on my abuse done to the Lady  
Challenged the field, we fought, and here I fell,  
He 'scaped I hope, Heaven grant he may do well.  Momf. 
'Tis well Sir that you are so penitent.  Sir Rob. 
Oh Father I had need to rend my heart  
In sunder, with true sorrows hourly sighs,  
For I have done a deed more impious  
Than ever entered in the heart of man,  
If ever thou didst hear of Momford's name,  
His honour, bounty, and magnificence,  
If ever thou didst hear his late defame,  
His accusation, exile, indigence,  
Then know that I am he, Momford loved well,  
Yet I am he by whom old Momford fell.  Momf. 
Alas Sir! how?  Sir Rob. 
I coveted his Land,  
And practised with Sir Walter Playnsey's Son,  
An irreligious careless Gentleman;  
Yet one that will make show, swear and protest,  
His course of life is equal with the best.  
O there are many such old man there be,  
Too many in this Land like him and me;  
We laid this plot, he should go into France,  
He did, and served on horse at Amiens,  
Where he was wilfully ta'en Prisoner,  
And by his keeper's Daughter understood,  
The French should by a treacherous plot win Guynes,  
Wherein Lord Momford held a Garrison.  Momf. 
Who were consenting with the French in this?  Sir Rob. 
A Wallown-Captain called Haute Bewmart.  Momf. 
Did Momford know of it?  Sir Rob. 
No( old man) never-  
But Playnsey counterfeited certain Letters.  
Subscribing them with Lord Villiers his name,  
In gratulation for betraying Guynes,  
These Letters were delivered to a Post,  
The Post surprised, examined where he had them,  
He answered from Villiers his Secretary:  
For in his habit Playnsey was disguised▪  Momf. 
Oh Heaven!  Sir Rob. 
Good father wherefore dost thou sigh?  Momf. 
For grief men's hearts should harbour such deceits.  Sir Rob. 
I faint good father, if thou can relieve me,  
Call for thy Daughter, stretch me on a bed:  
Bear witness I repent now, help and ease me,  
And till I die conceal my treachery.  Momf. 
Be sure I will, and yet I hope you'll live,  
And reconcile the banished Lord yourself,  
For 'twas an unjust fact, indeed it was.  
Come Daughter help to lead in this Gentleman,  
we'll show him all the favour that we can. Enter Bess.  Bess. 
Father he fownes.  Momf. 
Come quickly help him in,  
I hope he will recover, but if not,  
Heaven grant his sins may wholly be forgot. Exeunt.  Enter Canbee disguised. Can. 
This dambed 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 lest if he have it, he comes with company, but lupus in fabula here he comes, what and alone! excellent the 100 l. mine own then. Enter Swash.  Swash. 
I discover none, the danger is past, I think I may with safety put up an honest weapon, thou terror to all thieves, sleep there; my young Master promised to meet me, he stays 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 thief now to try my valour.  Can. 
Stand sirrah and deliver.  Swash. 
Oh Lord, thieves, thieves, oh, oh.  Can. 
Peace Villain, or I'll cut out thy Tongue, and make a rasher of the coals on't, deliver the money.  Swash. 
Yes good Mr. Thief with all my heart, there 'tis I am glad I had it for you.  Can. 
So am I too Sir, come hold up I must now bind you hand and foot for running after me.  Swash. 
I pray you do bind me hard, do good Mr. Thief, harder yet Sir.  Can. 
So now farewell, your money goes with me Sir.  Swash. 
Farewell kind Mr. Thief. O pox choke him for a slave, thieves, thieves, thieves, help, help, help.  Enter Hadland and Snip with Strowd's sword. Had.. 
Sirrah Snip be sure you run away with Strowd's sword  Snip. 
I warrant you Sir let me alone for running.  Swash. 
Thieves, thieves, help, help.  Snip. 
How thieves, I'll go, and raise the town Sir, thieves, thieves.  Ex. Snip. Enter Tom Strowd. Y. Stro. 
How thieves,— where's Snip run with my sword? who's that cries thieves Swash, how now man come stand to it.  Swash. 
Yes Sir, I am bound to it.  Y. Stro. 
Why what's the matter Swash, how cam'st thou thus, ha.  Swash. 
I am robbed Master.  Y. Stro 
How robbed, I hope not so man!  Swash. 
Yes faith there was six thieves set upon me, I very manfully killed seven of the six, and the rest carried away the money, but I shall have it again that's the best on't.  Y. Stro. 
How dost thou know thou shalt have't again Swash?  Swash. 
Why he has left me his bond here to bring it again.  Y. Stro. 
There's a bond with a Halters name,— Swash is all the money gone?  Swash. 
Every penny Master.  Y. Stro. 
What ill fortune is that Swash, what shall we do now trow.  Enter Snip and Canby. Snip. 
Thieves, thieves, come good Mr. Canby make haste, this way, this way.  Can. 
Thieves, where Boy? I am almost out of breath with runring, what Mr. Strowd and Swash how comes this.  Y. Stro. 
Why Swash is robbed man!  Can. 
How robbed?  Y. Stro. 
Yes faith, but I may thank Snip there that run away with my sword.  Snip. 
Alas Sir I was so amazed I knew not what I did,  
Nor whither I ran, till I met Mr. Canbee here!  Can. 
Robbed, I would I had been with thee Swash.  Swash. 
I honest Mr. Canbee, and you had been with me I had scaped well enough then.  Can. 
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 gibbet 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 Humphrey 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, prayed the equity of the quarrel, and could Westfords' body a been found, the Pardon had been sealed: but haste away with the reprieve, take horse at Langton, and make speed, or your father will be hanged.  Y. Stro. 
How take horse quoth ye, yes, the Cat would lick her ears and she had 'em, why, I was robbed too last night myself at Langton.  Can. 
Were you robbed Mr. Strowd?  Y. Stro. 
Yes faith, they make a matter of nothing to rob Swash and I now adays, I have not a horse to cast at a dog man not I.  Can. 
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 haste for fear you come too late.  Y. Stro. 
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 forthcoming again. Come Swash let us go. Exit Tom Stro:  Swash. 
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 bequeathe this halter amongst ye, in token of my love, and so adieu.  Snip. 
Farewell Swash and be hanged.  Had. 
— Canbee, art thou mad to give him thy horse, and five shillings to save his father from hanging.  Can. 
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 passport 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.  Had. 
— Let's turn Gypsies again then, and go about a fortune-telling, 'tis in good request again now.  Can. 
That's the smooth foot path up Holborn, no lack there's an odd fellow snuffles i'the nose, that shows a motion about Bishopsgate, we'll wheel about by Ratliff and get to his lodging, see shows for a fortnight, till Strowd's nine days wonder of hanging be past, to let us use his motion, which done the boy shall turn girl, thou as I have done already, wash off that gypsy-colour, and be doorkeeper with the boy, myself with a half vizard will describe, and thus we'll live like young Emperors.  Had. 
Canbee I'll chronicle thee for this conceit. Snip thou shalt have good purchase of the Wenches in the throng.  Snip. 
And if I snip not off their Purses then call me crack. Ex.  Enter Gloster, Sir Walter Playnsey and his Son, Captain Westford. Enter Old Strowd to the Gallows, with the Hangman, and Officers. Glost. 
Strowd I am sorry for this heavy sight.  
And by the dread command of my liege Lord,  
I come to witness 'twixt the world and you  
What state you die in, how you will dispose  
Your lands, your goods and debts now forfeited,  
These he restores thee, yet whilst thou has life  
To give unto your son, your friends, or wife.  Old Stro. 
I humbly thank his royal Majesty,  
Wishing long happiness to him and you:  
But with your favour my good Lord Protector  
I still deny I am a murderer,  
I killed Sir Robert Westford in fair fight;  
Our quarrel rising from open wrong,  
He offered to his niece the Lady Momford.  Glost. 
All that was certified his Majesty,  
But prithee hear me Strowd, Death's fleshless hand  
Clapsing the wretched palms of endless woe,  
Hath made a circle, and thy soul's the centre,  
From which by neither power, prayers, or tears,  
If thou die desperate she can be freed.  Old Stro. 
My Lord I do beseech ye pardon me,  
The worled believes that I have murdered Westford,  
Or since abused his body being dead,  
And shaming at my savage guiltiness,  
Have hurled it in some well not to be found;  
Is this the matter that I should confess?  Glost. 
It is good Strowd in that make clear thy Soul.  Old Stro. 
He whose pure blood turns scarlet sins to snow.  
Forgive me all my faults and Westford's death:  
But if I ever wronged him being dead,  
Or moved him from the place whereon he fell,  
Not far off from this place where I must fall.  
I ask heaven's anger on me, for his grace,  
And I can say no more concerning that.  Glost. 
Enough what says thou about Momford's lands.  Old. Stro. 
I say, seeing the King of his good grace  
Hath given me all my lands, my debts, and goods,  
I give too marks, and all the deeds,  
Unto the Lady Elizabeth his Daughter,  
And Captain Westford, in whom I put all trust,  
Be careful that the Lady be not wronged.  Cap. West. 
I warrant you Mr. Strowd.  Glost. 
How meanest thou to dispose of all thine own?  Old Stro. 
I have a will drawn at my house in Harling,  
And I confirm that for my Testament.  Glost. 
Are you pleased that will shall be performed,  Old Stro. 
Heaven's will be done.  
But I would fain have seen mine unkind Son.  Glost. 
Tarry a little Executioner.  Enter Tom Strowd, and Swash. Y. Stro. 
Hold, hold, hold, let him alone you cross legged-hartichoak, touch him and thou dare.  Swash. 
Hold Hangman and thou be'st a man, hold for the King's advantage.  Glost. 
What are these trow?  Y. Stro. 
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.  Old Playn. 
I do supply his place.  Y. Stro. 
Do ye so, then here's a Mittimus to reprieve 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.  Glost. 
Proud winchester's and mine, that's strange, let's see it.  Swash. 
It is not so strange as true Sir, there it is.  Glost. 
Is this your Son Strowd?  Old Stro 
I my gracious Lord.  Y. Stro. 
'Tis the more shame for my Mother else.  Glost. 
Where had you this reprieve?  Y. Stro. 
Of an honest Gentleman Sir, one that can do any reasonable matter with my Lord Protector.  Swash. 
I truly Sir he is one, as honest a Gentleman as Canbee.  Glost. 
It may be so, for I know one Frank Canbee,  
He served sometimes Bewford the Cardinal,  
The commonest cozening Knave in all this Land.  Swash. 
Ay, I that's he Sir, that's he.  Y. Stro. 
As God mend me 'tis the very same man, but all's one for that, he has played the kind Gentleman with me, and as God save me, and Swash had not been robbed this morning of 100 pound, I had paid him well for his pains too Sir.  Glost. 
Strowd turn yourself to Heaven these hopes are vain,  
And young Strowd as you hope to have our favour  
After your Father's death, I charge you seek  
That Canbee forth that forged you this reprieve.  Y. Stro. 
How after my father's death,— I hope it is not come to that now? after all this charge.  Old Stro. 
Sirrah you, ever choose you such sure Mates,  
My Lord Protector pray be good to him.  Y. Stro. 
Nay pray you my Lord be good to my father, and turn him over the Ladder.  Swash. 
— is this my Lord Erector?  Y. Stro. 
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'll do you twenty times as good a turn as the hanging of my father comes to, pray you my Lord.  Swash. 
Do my good Lord Erector, and Swash and his Buckler shall be at your service.  Old Stro. 
Peace, peace, your idle prate, Heaven's peace  
Must be my comfort in adversity.  Y. Stro. 
Swash what shall become of me now, I ne'er dare go down into Norfolk again, every clown will brave me, and bid me go to London, and be hanged as my father was.  Swash. 
Ay, and they'll bid Swash swing in an Halter as his old Master did.  Enter old Momford lead in by Bess Momford. Momf. 
Some good man bring me to an Officer.  
It may be a blind wretch may save a subject.  Swash. 
Master, here's a blind man come to see your father hanged.  Y. Stro. 
How a blind man see him hanged? that were strange indeed Swash.  Old Playn. 
What would that aged man, and that fair Maid?  Swash. 
I hope she comes to beg my old Master from the Gallows.  Y. Stro. 
No Swash She should have come in her Smock▪ and then  Swash. 
It may be it is not clean Master.  Momf. 
I heard the people murmur near my house,  
A little Cottage yonder on the Green,  
That there was come an ancient man to die,  
For killing of a Knight last afternoon,  
If it be so, the Knight lives, and no doubt  
Will be recovered of his dangerous wounds.  Glost. 
Where is he father?  Momf. 
Yonder in my Cottage.  Swash. 
O brave, Master he says the Knight's in his God-piece.  Y. Stro. 
No in his Cottage man, thou mistakest.  Momf. 
He named himself but now, and sent us forth,  
To know the truth, and he comes after us,  
As well as his green wounds will give him leave.  Y. Stro. 
I marry Swash, here's a good old man, and a goodly Mother, brings news for the nonce,— I wooed not for all the Bullocks in Norfolk, they'd fallen out, that my father had fallen off.  Glost. 
Let Strowd come down, I hope Sir Robert lives,  
And if he do, believe me I'll reprove  
This over rash proceedings for Strowd's death.  Old Playn. 
May it please your grace, 'twas Sessions the last day,  
Strowd granted he had killed him, Judgement past,  
And my son's wife the Daughter to Sir Robert,  
Hastened( with tears) the execution.  Enter Sir Robert Westford. Swash. 
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.  Sir Rob. 
Health to my gracious Lord the Duke of Gloster.  Glost. 
I am glad Sir Robert Westford of your health,  
How do you feel your wounds?  Sir Rob. 
May it please your grace, I hope they will do well,  
This good old man, and this fair-coming Maid,  
Next under Heaven preserved me from death.  Glost. 
Be thankful to them then, and hear ye young Strowd,  
Consider this poor man, and that fair Maid.  Y. Stro. 
Consider her,— I consider well enough, sirrah Swash methinks it is the prettiest Mother that ere man's eyes looked on.  Glost. 
Sir Walter Playnsey take Strowd to your house,  
His pardon shall be sent you ere you dine,  
So upon Sureties let him be discharged,  
But hear you young Strowd, see you find out Canbee,  
Or at my hands never expect a favour.  Y. Stro. 
Yes my Lord I'll 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 fever, in every member wooed I might ne'er stir,— yonder's Mr. Playnsey has all the talk with her, and yet he's no Batchelar.  Swash. 
Cannot you go and take her away from him, I could do it myself Master.  Y. Stro. 
I'll go to 'em, I'll try,  
Goddeen to your Sir.  Swash. 
Pish you are no Master, let me alone I have a device to get him away, and then do you seize upon the Wench: follow me Master.  Y. Stro. 
Oh brave Swash e'faith.  Enter a Messenger. Glost. 
Now Sir your news?  Mess. 
The haughty Cardinal  
Taking advantage of your being from home,  
Hath with a crew of his Confederates,  
Beset St. Johnse's, and with all his force  
Assayls to wrong the Lady Ellenor,  
And steal her forth the Castle.  Glost. 
Is't possible, that this proud Priest dares offer violence  
Unto my trothplight Ellenor?  Mess. 
'Tis too true my Lord.  Glost. 
Where is he now?  Mess. 
Rid to the Court my Lord.  Glost. 
And thither Gloster doth intend to fly,  
As swift as quickest speed will give him leave. Ex. Glost.  Old Stro. 
Come Sir you'll seek those Cozeners▪  
No doubt those copesmates had my 100 pound,  
And do you hear, take your companion with you,  
Go and seek them, or for your own part never see my face:  
But as for you that trust to every slave,  
Wasting my goods, nay jesting out my life.  
By false reprieves, and such base practices,  
Walk, pack, sink, swim, pine, perish, look not on me,  
Till you have found those that have cony-catched you.  Y. Stro. 
Hark hither Swash, and it had not been for a blemish to the name of the Strowds, wooed we had made an end of this brawling at the Gallows, and then thou shouldst a seen whether I wooed a kept such a coil 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 cracked Crown, yet every one says he gave that ill-faced knave the Hangman five, or six pound.  Swash. 
I that was to buy him a better face Mr. But give him good words, you know the old man is kind enough.  Y. Stro. 
I as any Corssen creature, he's won with a Apple, and lost again with a nut, but come Swash we'll go seek out those coney-catches, and ere I catch them,— I'll make them pay soundly all for their roguery.  Exeunt young Strowd and Swash. Old Playn. 
Sir Robert will you shake hands with Mr. Strowd.  Sir Rob. 
Well he may have my hand but not my heart,  
Srowd thou didst wound me, yet thou didst it well,  
No more, I'll think on't till my dying day,  
I'll sit upon your skirts before, I will.  Capt. West. 
Oh Uncle have patience.  Sir Rob. 
You are an Agent for the Child of Momford,  
I pray you Sir Walter Playnsey make good Bonds,  
That Strowd abuse me not, look to't I pray.  Old Playn. 
I warrant you Sir Robert I'll be sure  
Of such security as you shall like.  Old Stro. 
Come Captain Westford, you shall have the Deeds  
Concerning Momford's lands past unto you.  Cap. West. 
I had rather Sir you kept them in your hand.  Old Stro. 
Well as you please, yet walk with us I pray,  
You brought me to the Gallows, bring me back:  
Father farewell, farewell good gentle maid,  
I'll rest your Debtor till some other time;  
But 'twas Sir Robert's kindness to reveal his name,  
Else Hangman you had had this homespun suit,  
But Heaven be thanked I keep it for my Son,  
I hope to drive him from his silken humour.  Cap. West. 
Come good Mr. Strewed will you go?  Old Stro. 
Gallows farewell, Strowd's heart is blithe and bold,  
Having escaped thy danger being thus old.  Exeunt old Strowd, Cap. Westford, and old Playnsey. Sir Rob. 
A plague of this blind slave, and that base drab,  
Else hadst thou hanged ere I had been discovered,  
And on my tongue a mischief, that revealed  
Our purpose in the plot of Momford's fall,  
But I have't now, I am resolved, hear you Son Playnsey,  
I pray you give that Maid a mark in gold,  
And Father I must crave a word with thee.  Y. Playn. 
Fair Maid besides his offer take this Gold,  Bess. 
I pray you pardon me, for all the world  
I would not do my soul that injury.  Y. Playn. 
Divine immortal, all my soul's delight.  Bess. 
Salute me not with such vain epithet.  
I am wretched, mortal, miserable, poor,  
But howsoever base, I'll be no whore.  Y. Playn. 
Wilt thou be then my wife, for she is dead.  Bess. 
It's much unlike,  
A Gentleman of your worth will vouchsafe,  
A Beggars Daughter to your Bridal bed.  Y. Playn. 
By Heaven I will if thou wilt grant me love.  
I'll answer you another time kind Sir.  
My father hath no Nurse, no Wife, no child,  
No servant but myself, and he is blind.  Y. Playn. 
Hark in thine ear one word.  Sir Rob. 
Ay, I, I, I do remember such a tale I told thee,  
Come hither good son Playnsey thou shalt hear it.  
Last night at my first dressing I was lunatic,  
Mad that I was hurt, more than of the hurt,  
And in my ravening fit told this old fool,  
That thou and I did practise Momford's fall,  
Now this old Asse-believing I said true,  
Comes with my Conscience, bids me advise,  
And goes about to make a matter on't,  
Ha, ha, old fool go, go, go to thy prayers,  
Thou hadst need of eyes to keep thy Daughter honest.  
I guess thy cottage be a brothel house,  
Talk'st thou of Momford's fall and of my madness  Momf. 
I do beseech ye hear me for Heaven's sake.  Sir Rob. 
Tut, tut, do not tell me of Heaven, or Hell,  
Prate not, I'll send the now and then a penny,  
But if thou tittle tattle tales of me,  
I'll clap thee by the heels, and whip thy Daughter,  
Turn thee to the wide world, and let thee starve.  
Come come son Plainsey let the Knave alone,  
Keep's tongue, and keep his friend, else he gets none.  Bess. 
My Father Sir had pity of your wounds.  Sir Rob. 
Peace Huswife. I have paid him for his pains.  
Come son away, and old man hold your tongue,  
Remember this old saw, As men are friended, Ex. Sir Rob. and Y. Plain.  
So either right or wrong their suits are ended.  Momf. 
Oh miserable age!  Bess. 
Oh wretched youth!  Momf. 
Oh times corrupt by men for want of truth!  Bess. 
What ails my father?  Momf. 
Why exclaims my Daughter?  Bess. 
Playnsey the perjured, he that did deride me,  
He that did marry Westford's only Daughter,  
Courts me again to be his Concubine.  Momf. 
Does he then know thee?  Bess. 
He makes show he doth not.  Momf. 
Oh do not trust him Girl, Westford and he  
Are all composed of guile and subtlety.  
Alas that this fair world, by sin deformed,  
Should bear upon her bosom such a shape  
As Westford is; last night expecting death,  
Terror dwelled on his heart, which forced him tell  
With tears and lamentations his foul facts,  
No sooner had he any hope of health,  
But he conspired the faultless death of Strowd,  
And would not have come forth, had not we been,  
But till the man had died kept close within.  
Now he denies a deed as clear as day,  
Threatens poor want, and low-trod poverty  
Must not resist men in authority;  
Come lead me in, I would my days were done,  
Since vice lays baits which virtue cannot shun. Exeunt.   

ACT IV.  Enter Tom Strowd and Swash. Y. Stro. 
HOw's this, shall I see all Norwitch in the corner of a little Chamber? I had as lief thou hadst told me Charing cross stood in Cheapside, and all one.  Swash. 
And you will not believe me you shall see it yourself, 'tis in this house, 'tis called a motion: there's first the Master of the motion, than 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.  Y. Stro. 
This is old excellent i'faith; come, and I had but one cross in the world to bless me with I'd see it; go you afore Swash and show me thither.  Enter Snip like a Wench dressed up. Swash. 
Do you see you Wench Master? she is doorkeeper, I have given her earnest to enter her soberly, and pass through her quarters at my pleasure.  Y. Stro. 
Is this she? how now pretty Mother? what gambols hast ta? canst thou describe them? sen ye?  Snip. 
Not I Sir, the Master of the Motion can Sir.  Y. Stro. 
Go call him out then,— What's he? is he ashamed to show his face trow? or is it the fashion trow ye? what gambols have ye here now? ha?  Enter Canbee and Hadland disguised. Can. 
Why This is Strowd that I fetced over with the counterfeit reprieve, but 'tis no matter, we'll outface him. Gentlemen the first conceit you are to see is Tumbling.  Y. Stro. 
Stumbling, What stumbling? I think the fellow be 'straught.  Had. 
Sir he means Tumbling, and feats of Activity.  Y. Stro. 
Why man that's as stale as banks 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 turned Tumbler, and ye ha no better matters ye lose my custom I can tell ye Sirs.  Can. 
You shall likewise see the famous City of Norwitch, and the stabbing of Julius Caesar in the French Capitol by a sort of Dutch Mesapotamians.  Y. Stro. 
How the French Capitol! nay I remember Tully's Offices says the Capitol that Caesar was stabbed in was at Rome.  Can. 
Impute the gross mistake to the fault of the Author; you shall likewise see the amorous conceits and Love songs betwixt Captain Pod of money-corner, and Mrs. Rump of Ram-alley, never described before.  Swash. 
Good Master let's see Mrs. Rump of Ram-alley.  Y. Stro. 
How? Captain Pod and Mrs. Rump?— I think this snuffling slave flouts us; then i'faith let's see the sawing of the Devil with a wooden saw.  Can. 
Or if it please you shall see a stately combat betwixt Tamberlayn the Great, and the Duke of Guyso the less, performed on the Olympic Hills in France.  Y. Stro. 
France?— Thou speakest all French to me; but off with this snuffling French Mask, and speak in your English voice, or as God sa me I'll beat thy nostrils as flat as a pancake, or a barley froyes.  Had. 
Alas Sir, the Gentleman has got a mischance lately, and broke his Brow, that makes him wear a wizard.  Y. Stro. 
Dost tell me on his Brow? what cared 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 cozened me with the false reprieve.  Swash. 
And here's the slave Snip that ran away with your Sword in a Wenches Petticoat; we'll spoil your motion now we have ye.  Had. 
I beseech you good Master Swash.  Swash. 
What Gipsy? are you turned juggler? I'll tickle you.  Can. 
Hark ye Mr. Strowd.  Had. 
Mr. Swash as you ever came of a woman—  Swash. 
Let me never come off a woman while I live again if I do not terrify you, I'll motion you, I'll murder your Tamberlayn and his Coatch-horses, I'll stab your Caesar, I'll ravish your Rump, I'll pepper your Pod, I'll powder your Motion, your Norwitch shall down, I am fire, and I'll consume your Motion in a twinkling. Exit with Snip.  Y. Stro. 
Do Swash, and let me alone with these till thou come again.  Had. 
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, cozened you of a satin suit.  Y. Stro. 
How? how's this, was he the Gipsy that cozened me of my suit?  Can. 
Jack you're a Gipsy; believe him not Mr. Strowd he has been proved perjured, 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 says I cozened you of your suit, 'twas his damned counsel that Swash was robbed yesterday of the 100 l.  Had. 
Mr. Strowd, by this hollow tooth that shall tear that slaves Nose like a piece of swine's flesh, 'twas he that robbed him, and counterfeited the reprieve; indeed I must confess I had my share; some I have spent, the rest is here, take it Mr. Strowd, and think of honest Jack Hadland as he deserves.  Can. 
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 clothe; there should be an old Harry Angel amongst it, lend it me to swear by a little.  Y. Stro. 
Not one of them and there were a hundred of 'em.  Can. 
Let me be torn into mammocks with wild Bears if I make not a gallimaufry of thy heart, and keep thy Skull for my quaffing bowl you base cheating Slave.  Y. Stro. 
— Here's the old Proverb right, When false thieves 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 vowed ne'er to take me for his Son, till I get his money again, or see you at the Gallows.  Can. 
Are you fallen out with your father? fall in with us helter shelter, you shall fare no worse than we do.  Y. Stro. 
— Man, what wouldst thou have me to turn coney-catcher?  Can. 
Oh Sir, your only bravest life that can be.  Y. Stro. 
— I think it were not amiss, for I ha seen Wheat and Barley grow amongst cockle and darnel, and many an honest man keep Knaves company; How now Swash, what hast thou done?  Enter Swash and Snip. Swash. 
I have confounded their Motion, beleaguered their Castle, battered down the Walls, and taken Tamberlayn the blood▪ Prisoner in a pursuit, to the utter undoing of all Motion-Monger and Puppit-players.  Y. Stro. 
'Tis well done Swash, but wotts thou what man? I am turned coney-catcher since thou went'st.  Swash. 
Coney-catcher? the devil you are?  Y. Stro. 
Yes i'faith Swash, and if thou would do one thing for me now, I'll teach thee to coney-catch too when I come into Norfolk.  Swash. 
On that condition Master I'll do it what ere it be.  Y. Stro. 
Do but go thy ways to Mile-end-Green to my father's 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 shall hear from me.  Swash. 
Yes Sir, I'll go tell him you are with 'em, but you bid me say you could not find 'em.  Y. Stro. 
— By no means Swash, than thou mar'st all, tell him I cannot find 'em, make a lie for me now, I'll make two for thee another time.  Swash. 
Well on this condition you'll teach me to cony, I am content to lie for you. Ex. Swash.  Y. Stro. 
Do so; Now Sirs, what course will you take, that I may come by the rest of my money?  Can. 
Tush we have 100 l. tricks when we want cash one amongst us undertakes the name and habit of some swashing Italian or French nobleman at least, the rest in Liveries attending, than we come and sojourn at some honest gentleman's 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 money at a day, before which day we give him the slip, and to escape pursuit attire ourselves like Gypsies, Pedlars, Tinkers, or such like disguise; how like you this?  Y. Stro. 
This is old excellent i'faith; well I see I might a kept company with honest men all the days a my life ere I should a learned half this Knavery: but hark 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 should think my money every penny better bestowed than other.  Can. 
You shall have Sir her.  Y. Stro. 
Shall, why well said; come then my mad Viragoes I have spent many a grey groat of honest swaggerers, and tear-Plackets in my days that I never drunk for, and now I'll turn swaggerer myself, I'll keep you company an't be but to keep you honest, true men I cannot, for there's ne'er 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.  Can. 
Thou shalt be our chief Captain amongst us.  Y. Stro. 
How your Captain?— I'll make all split then, come my hearts. Exeunt.  Enter old Momford and sits down, to him Bess Momford. Bess. 
Father, dear father succour me from shame,  
Young Mr. Playnsey is entered our house,  
Hath shut the fore-door up, detains the keys,  
And swears to kill me, if I do not yield  
To his abhorred and intemperate lust,  
Help me good father o'er the Garden pale,  
That I may call for succour on the Green.  Momf. 
No Daughter, sit thee down, sit down by me,  
I call you Daughter, being your own desire,  
If you be nobly born as you report,  
Why should you to escape your own distress  
Leave me poor man alone, and comfortless? Enter Y. Plain.  Bess. 
He comes!  Momf. 
Let him, sit down, sit down I say.  Bess. 
O how shall I escape reproach this day?  Momf. 
Peace, heaven may give my byzoned eyes their light,  
Stretching these crooked limbs strait and upright.  Y. Playn. 
Art thou fled hither? thinkest thou his weak strength  
Can free thee? come, why should this frosty ice  
Clasp his cold arms about thy flowering spring?  
Nay strive not Bayard, if ye do, by Heaven  
I'll draw my Rapier, and with one thrust  
Send thee to Charon as a Passenger:  Momf. 
Oh, I am feeble, pray ye hurt me nor,  
If it be true, as I have heard it told  
You married lately with Sir Robert's Daughter.  Y. Playn. 
Father, I hate her, and she scorneth me,  
She pules, she sighs, she pines, she leaves her meat,  
She flies by Bridal-bed, she bans, she raves  
That ere her father forced her to be mine.  Bess. 
Good Sir comfort her.  Y. Playn. 
Comfort thou me, and I will comfort her.  Bess. 
I will not yield consent to such a sin,  
I scorn to be a Prince's Concubine.  Y. Playn. 
Wilt thou be then my wife?  Bess. 
No, I have sworn  
To die as pure a Maid as I was born.  Momf. 
How can she be your Wife?  Y. Stro. 
My wife will die.  Momf. 
Tarry that time.  Y. Playn. 
All lingering I defy.  
Old man I'll make thee happy by thy grant;  
Fair Maid thou shalt be blessed in thy consent;  
Deny me and I'll turn a Tereus,  
Murder thy Father, then cut out thy tongue,  
Deform thy beauty with the hand of wrath,  
Lastly make spoil of thy Virginity,  
Then leave thee wretched; where if now thou yield,  
Against all reproach and wrong I'll be thy shield.  Bess. 
Help me good Father.  Y. Playn. 
Bid a sear dried Reed  
Oppose his sapless strength against a green Oak.  
See me, I am all youth, all love, all beauty,  
Thou beauteous, lovely, youthful, 'tis thy duty  
To love thy like, which duty if thou shun,  
My hate thy beauteous youth shall overturn.  Momf. 
Good Sir stand but aside a little while;  
I do remember since myself was young  
The strong effects of lust; both she and I  
Must yield to your desire.  Bess. 
I'll rather die.  Momf. 
Nay say not so, listen to me my Child.  Y. Playn. 
I marry father if thou canst persuade her  
I'll make thee rich, and one day marry her.  Momf. 
Fear nothing Child, but use him gently,  
And I will fit his hot lust presently.  Y. Playn. 
Come, what resolve you? either yield or die.  Momf. 
Sir I commit my Daughter to your hands,  
But I beseech you woo her with fair words,  
She may without compulsion yield at last;  
I'll in and weep, for what can I do more?  
You're rich and strong, and I am week and poor.  Y. Playn. 
Hold Father, take that Gold to comfort thee.  Momf. 
For money few men now shun infamy.  Bess. 
Oh me, do you forsake me!  Momf. 
I a while I do,  
But Playnsey I'll anon be even with you. Ex. Momf.  Y. Playn. 
Now pretty Virgin how are you resolved?  Bess. 
I yield, yet though I yield I bend my knees,  
And ere my spotless Virgin shape I lose Kneels.  
Let me delate the many miseries—  Y. Playn. 
Come do not stain thy lily cheeks with tears,  
Nor fashion to thyself a form of dread,  
Thou talk'st of loss of shape, a fair Lass bears  
A shape as goodly in lost maidenhead,  
And far more lovely; then with smiling grace,  
They boldly look upon a lover's face,  
Try once, then be assured thou'lt not refuse,  
Hadst thou a hundred maidenheads to lose.  Bess. 
Impious temptation! I defy thee Playnsey,  
Setting my weak strength to resist thy lust;  
Off with thy poisonous hands, help, help me Heaven.  Enter Momford like a servingman. Momf. 
But a poor earthly man guided by Heaven  
Will keep thee from this deed, hateful as Hell;  
Playnsey forbear as thou respects-thy life.  Y. Playn. 
Thou Autum-shaken leaf, thou bare anatomy,  
Thou withered Elder-pith, thou shape of death,  
Sent by that blind exorcist to disturb  
The pleasures that young Playnsey's heart affects,  
Vanish, I know thou art but lither air,  
Thy hand fell lightly on me like thin smoke  
That is dispercest amongst the spreading clouds.  Momf. 
What mak'st thou me a Ghost? come take thy weapons,  
Thou shalt soon try I am both flesh and bone. Fight, Playnsey is down.  Y. plain: 
Hold Villain hold!  Momf. 
No Boy, I am a Man,  
Uncle to that wronged Maid, the blindman's brother,  
Who quaking sits within mourning his Child;  
art not ashamed? no thou art impudent,  
Westford and you are fleshed in villainies;  
Think on your plot about the banished Momford,  
If you'll repent it I will use you well;  
Make means that Momford may be proved clear,  
As you know best his harmless innocence,  
And on a soldier's word I do protest  
Momford shall make your peace, and sue your pardon.  Y. Playn. 
What dost thou mean? what's this thou talk'st to me?  Momf. 
I talk of Treason, rapine, slander, wrong;  
Go get thee to Sir Robert, he's hard by,  
I saw him walking up along the Green;  
Stand not to talk, if thou accept my offer  
I'll be a faithful servant in this business,  
Preserve your credits, and confer with you;  
If not, resolve on this, I'll to the King,  
And there accuse you of this heinous wrong.  Y. Playn. 
Wilt thou stay here until I fetch Sir Robert?  Momf. 
I will. Go Maid, help the old man to bed, Ex. Pl.  
he's shrewdly frighted by this violence.  Bess. 
What reverend man art thou? or Angel rather,  
That speakest these wonders of my banished father?  Momf. 
Go honourable Maiden, Momford's Heir,  
A little help the old weak blinded man,  
That weeping sits within, trembling for dread  
Lest Playnsey had thy chaste youth injured,  
Help him, and then I'll tell thee many wonders.  Bess. 
To hear but one word of my father's weal,  
I'll undergo all work, all pain, all toil. Ex. Bess.  Momf. 
Poor Girl, how glad she is to hear the voice  
Of Momford's honour? with what nimble speed  
She hies to help a shadow, there●s no beggar,  
No poor blind man, that wants her comforting;  
I wonder what she'ill think, when she shall find  
Only a staff, a scrip, a gown, a bonnet,  
And ne'er a body to make use of them? Enter Bess.  
She comes, and is amazed as she comes.  Bess. 
Where is the blind man I beseech you Sir▪  
Alone I find his garments in his Chair,  
Do not amaze me, tell me where he is?  Momf. 
He is within fair Maid.  Bess. 
Aged man,  
I should give credit to your milk-white hairs;  
Tell me, O tell me, why within a Chair  
The case is left; are you a Conjuror,  
Where is the blind man that I called my father?  Momf. 
I am no Conjuror, stay here but a while,  
And I will bring the blindman to thy fight,  
Stay here, look on this cloudy Element,  
And I'll produce him to your hearts content, Ex. Momf.  Bess. 
Alas where am I sure this beggar's Cell  
Is a base Cottage to betray my honour;  
I took him at the first to be a Comforter,  
But now I see he is expert in shapes:  
But why should I dispraise him? he did free  
My body from vild Playnsey's luxury.  
Methinks he has been all my Joy to me,  
Why should there now arise this difference?  Enter Momford like a Beggar. Momf. 
Daughter where are you?  Bess. 
Pray where is your brother?  Momf. 
I have no Brother, no kin but one Daughter.  Bess. 
he's an enchanter sure, his ways I'll shun.  Momf. 
Daughter where are you? I conjure you Child  
By the true honour of old Momford's name,  
By Momford's faith, that was by fraud exiled,  
You would not let his honour die in shame▪  Bess. 
Help me ye powers, that give all Mortals power,  
To scape this heavy and too troublous hour.  
Spirit avoid me, or if thou be no spirit  
Surely it is a damned magition.  
Fly me, thou alterest shapes, I do not love thee.  Momf. 
Thou dost; see here the Gold thou sentest thy father,  
When I, even I myself brought these fair Arms  
To wicked Westford's Gate; poor Child be not amazed,  
I am thy Father Momford, by traitorous practice banished.  Bess. 
Ah me, that I have lived so long unknown,  
I still had such a hope.  Mom. 
Fair Child forbear,  
I know Sir Robert Westford, and this Playnsey,  
Or one of them at least, will come forthwith;  
Say you the blind man is in his bed sick,  
And call me Uncle; come, be comforted,  
Our sum of honour in despite of guile  
Shall brightly shine in England's Hemisphere,  
We have been clouded long, but maugre hate,  
Truth will advance desert to honour's state. Exeunt.  Enter Sir Robert Westford, Y. Playnsey, Canbee, Hadland, and Tom Strowd. Y. Playn. 
Dare you trust Strowd in this same stratagem?  Can. 
Tush fear him not, since his father hath given him over, he hath given o'er all honesty and lives upon the spoil; 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 money to cut the throat of the Blind-beggar, his Brother, and his Daughter.  Y. Stro. 
How? cut their Throats?— I'll see ye hanged first.  Can. 
Jack 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 lie at this corner for the wench, for this way she comes unto the Conduit-head for water, she falls to thee.  Had. 
And fall thou to her, and ye can but agree of price.  Y. Stro. 
Nay let me alone for falling upon the Wench I warrant ye.  Can. 
Mr. Playnsey and Sir Robert do you keep about the old man's 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.  Sir Rob. 
Plotted with good discretion; Son Playnsey  
I like it well, that you and I go walk  
Near to this Cottage, for it much concerns us  
To see this Beggar dead, upon whose breath  
Proud slander si●s to blemish our good names,  
And blast our honest reputations;  
Shake hands and part in hope when next we meet, Ex. Sir Rob. & Can. & Had.  
Their deaths shall lay all danger at our feet.  Y. Playn. 
Pray heaven it may; a word good Mr. Strowd.  
Although you had in charge to kill the Maid,  
I do entreat you use some special care  
In your attempt, and in the stead of death  
Tell her I love her dearly, and that love  
Enforced this shift: for though the Wench be poor,  
Yet in the glass of my affection  
She seems right wealthy, fair and virtuous;  
Commend me to her Strowd, and since my wife  
Hath given her latest farewell to the world, Ready Swash.  
Tell her I do intend to marry her;  
Mean time convey her to my farm at Rederiff,  
And there's 10 Angels more for thy reward:  
But be as trusty to me, as the thought  
That sleeps within my bosom, so adieu,  
I trust the richest of my hopes with you. Ex. plain.  Y. Stro. 
Do so, and I do not deceive you let me die like a Dog on a Pitch-fork;— This is excellent, hire me to steal away the Wench I am in love withal myself, this comes just in the nick i'faith, I desire no more, but to meet her. who's yonder Swash? how now? whither away so fast Swash ha? Enter Swash.  Swash. 
What my young Master? why I am going to the three Colts to saddle your father's Gelding; we both ride into Norfolk this afternoon.  Y. Stro. 
— Better and better still, thou com'st as fit for the purpose as a Pudding for a friar's 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 wooed have't, yonder comes the Mother.  Enter Bess Momford. Bess. 
Oh what content attends this Country life?  
Here proud Ambition's emulating eye  
Plays not the find-fault; our thatched-shed is built  
Without the reach of Treasons bloody Gripe.  Swash. 
To her Master; 'tis an old saying in our Country, Long standards are but short Doers, Wenches cannot away with them.  Y. Stro. 
Mass Swash I think thou sayst true; I'll to her, How now pretty Mother, whither are you going so fast?  Bess. 
Alas good Sir I am a poor man's Child,  
My Father is the Beggar of this Green,  
That ives upon good people's charities,  
I am agoing with this earthen Pitcher  
To fetch clean water from the Conduit-head;  
We eat the herbs that grow on the Springs brinck,  
And count the Conduit-water wholesome drink.  Y. Stro. 
Nay you drink water you are no hostess for me:  Swash. 
You are no hostess for me, fie, fie, I am ashamed of you.  Y. Stro. 
Why? what should I say to her?  Swash. 
What? you should have praised her little foot,  
Her handsome shoe belonging to't:  
And then a come to her round knee,  
And then Master to her belly.  Y. Stro. 
I marry Swash, and I were there once I'd do well enough: but pray thee let me alone, I'll talk to her well enough I warrant thee; this is to the purpose, wench you know young Mr. Playnsey?  Bess. 
I do remember I have seen the man,  
He loves my Father well; why names he Playnsey?  
I hope he'll do me no more injury?  Swash. 
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.  Y. Stro. 
I marry Swash, this is excellent i'faith; couldst not thou a taught me this? but all's one Swash, I'll win her without these Ballads I warrant you; well 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 maidenhead afore morning.  Bess. 
Unhappy wretch, that Playnsey sure was born  
To make our House and Family a scorn.  Swash. 
She begins to yield Master, give her not o'er, to her again Master.  Y. Stro. 
I warrant thee Swash now I am in let me alone. Well wench, 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 marry thee, and of a poor Beggar, Daughter, I'll make thee a wealthy Norfolk Yeomans wife; what sayest thou to it now sen ye?  Bess. 
Alas my Father is a poor blindman,  
And I am all the comfort that he has,  
I am his eyes to see, his feet to go,  
And hands to dress him, I being gone he's left  
Eyeless, handless, footless, comfortless,  
Yet if you love me as you make a show,  
Come to our Cottage: though our State be poor,  
We live content and that's a good man's store,  Y. Stro. 
Lay thee Swash, I must go into her Cot-house she says; Well wench, and thou wot not go with me, thou art ne'er 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 father's 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.  Bess. 
I'll go with ye, love ye, I'll do any thing so thou wilt save my aged father's life.  Y. Stro. 
— Let me be hanged like a Dog and I do not; Swash go you with her and raise the Town, I'll but cross o'er the Summer lay by the Broom field o'er goodman Dawson's Close and be with you presently;— whither art thou going? thou dost not hear me.  Swash. 
Yes, yes, I must go by the Broom-field, I hear you Sir, come wench come.  Y. Stro. 
Nay since you are so forward hold, take you the Pitcher, I'll go with her myself,— I would not for any thing but I had turned coney-catcher, here had been a black day with some body else; come wench, 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.  Swash. 
Oh, oh, oh, I carry the Pitcher I there let it lie, I'll after them. Exeunt.  Enter Momford driving in Canbee and Hadland. Can. 
— I am hurt.  Had. 
Hold, and thou com'st of the noble blood of the Trojans hold.  Momf. 
Nay do not think you desperate castaways,  
Though time hath hid me with the rind of Age,  
And hung his snowy livery of my face,  
Though I am old, that I want strength to fight;  
If you be men whose fortunes has been shaked  
By the rough arm of want, or Servitors  
That have consumed your living in the wars,  
I have a poor blind Brother on this Green,  
Who by the Alms of charitable men,  
And with the wealth I brought him out of France,  
Hath store of Gold, and had you shown your wants  
To him or me—  Can. 
I scorn to make my state known to e'er a prowling Beggar on ye all, we know your Brother has Gold, and 'tis that we come for.  Had 
And we'll have't or die for't.  Both. 
Murder, help, help. They fight.  Enter Sir Robert Westford, and young Playnsey. Sir Rob. 
What murder? where's the Murderers?  Y. Playn. 
Sir Robert draw, it is my friend that's wronged.  Momf. 
Nay I beseech your worship hold your hands,  
Though I be old, I am sufficient  
To answer two far better men than these.  Can. 
Sir Robert, as you are a Knight lay hold upon one, who was have con●ent to rob us in the King's high way, but would likewise ho● taken away our lives.  Y. Playn. 
Upon my Soul you do the fellow wrong.  Sir Rob. 
Nay, nay Son Playnsey, never take his part;  
How should the Beggar here of Bednall-Green  
Get so much wealth, as the world thinks he hath,  
And keep his minion at the beggar's house,  
But by such practices? yield up thy weapons,  
Or set upon him all, I'll answer it.  Momf. 
Well, well, Sir Robert Westford, time has been  
The blindman and his Daughter did deserve  
More friendship at your hands: and Mr. Playnsey  
I could repeat, but let old matters rest. They beat Momf.  Sir Rob. 
What do ye brave us? set upon the slave.  Y. Playn. 
What is he gone? how did he scape our hands?  Can. 
— I know not, I had a full blow at his left leg, I had thought I had cut it off. Enter Tom Strowd.  Tom Stro. 
Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, Canbee! I Pray Heaven keep the old man from killing ere I come, and I care not.  Can. 
What Tom Strowd? well met, where's the Wench? is she safe?  Y. Stro. 
Safe ● Dost thou make a question on't? I warrant she is safe enough for telling any more tales, I am no Bunglar about a wench: but where's the Blind-beggar and his Brother?  Can. 
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 days, and yet she could not so much as draw blood of him, he's Musket-proof, or he had died for't else.  Y Playn. 
She is at Rederiff then, there I sent Strewed;  
we'll end this task, and then I'll visit her:  
But here's the Cottage, pull the Villain out, They knock▪  
he's both a felon, and a Murderer.  Enter Momford like a Beggar. Momf. 
What means this outrage at a Blind man's door?  
Are Englishmen become so inhuman  
That Beggars cannot scape their violence?  Sir Rob. 
Leave this dissembling, and send forth thy Brother,  
For he hath robbed these honest Gentlemen,  
We followed him, and saw him enter here,  
Therefore dispatch, and either send him out,  
Or else we'll lock the Doors upon you both,  
And fire the rotten Cottage over your ears.  Momf. 
Indeed I must confess I have a Brother,  
An ancient servingman, maimed in the wars  
Under Lord Momford's colours.  Y. Playn 
For naming Momford run him through the heart.  T. Stro. 
— Touch him he that dares; as God sa' me I'll be his Priest that toucheth but a hair of him?  Can. 
Strowd, I hope you do but jest with us.  T. Stro. 
Jest me no jests shall ne'er be said, Tom Strowd of Harling stood by and saw a blindman murdered, therefore courage old Father, set thy back to mine, and cover thy head with thy Crutches; I'll take up my lodging on God's dear ground, ere thou shalt take any harm, for the pretty Mother thy daughter's sake.  Enter old Playnsey, old Strowd, and Captain Westford, Sill, Clark. Old Playn. 
How now? what quarrels have we here?  
Sir Robert Westford, it ill be●eems a man of your estate  
To have a hand in such unlawful riots;  
Are you there Son? have you so soon forgo  
The timeless death of your deceased wife,  
To follow such unseemly practices?  Old. Stro. 
Ha, sest me so? dost take the blind man's part?  
thou'rt a Strowd right, a Norfolk Yeoman right,  
To take part with the weakest; Well done my Boy,  
I do forgive all matters that are past,  
For joy to see thy heart so well inclined.  T. Stro. 
Why I thank you Father, and I forgive you too withal my heart.  Sir Rob. 
Sir Walter Playnsey you are misinformed,  
We come with no intent of injury,  
These Gentlemen were Strangers unto us,  
We found sore hurt and robbed by a false thief,  
And Brother to this Beggar, whom we saw  
Enter into his house.  Old Playn. 
What sayst thou Father?  
Know'st thou of such a practice by thy Brother?  
Or to thy knowledge is he in the house?  Momf. 
Sir Walter Playnsey, that I takes your name,  
So help me Heaven, as I am ignorant  
From any such lewd practice of my Brothers:  
But since your worships here, I'll call him forth  
In person, to make answer for himself,  
Desiring you to pardon me a while,  
For what with sorrow and with cares down pressed,  
My sightless eyes had need to take their rest. Exit.  Old Payn. 
Send us thy Brother and be thou discharged: ●  
But Mr. Strowd, what can you say to this?  T. Stro. 
Faith Sir, 'tis a common saying in our Country, You shall know by the marketfolks 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?  Old Stro. 
I son, what of them?  T. Stro. 
Why these were they that cozened me of my satin suit, and with the false reprieve that had like to a hanged you, and robbed Swash of the 100 l. too.  Old Stro. 
What these Gentlemen?  T. Stro. 
Gentlemen! as Good mend me, a couple of as arrant coney-catches as e'er pissed▪  Old Stro. 
Is't possible Son?  T. Stro. 
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 justify 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.  Can. 
Strowd, you're a Nit, a Slave, and a peasant.  T. Stro. 
How a Fessant?— I scorn to soil 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'd eat no meat but Mustard; sen ye?  Old Playn. 
Strowd have a care you speak nought but truth.  Old Stro. 
And speak the truth Boy as thou art my Son.  T. Stro. 
And I do not I'll give you leave to call me Cut, sen ye?  Old Playn. 
Sir Robert Westford this concerns you near,  
And Son it touches your reputation too?  Y. Playn. 
But it shall touch his life that Authors it;  
Strowd you are a villain, and for old grudge Enter Momford like a Serving man.  
Betwixt your Father and Sir Robert Westford,  
Forged this surmise, as both these Gentlemen  
Are ready on their oaths to justify.  Can. 
No more, here comes the Slave that robbed us.  T. Stro. 
Robbed ye! of what I trow? of your good conditions?  Had. 
This is he that hacked my thigh like a leg of Beef.  T. Stro. 
Thou liest like a thief.  Old Playn. 
Are you the blindman's Brother?  Momf. 
Sir, I am.  Old Playn. 
You are accused here of a Robbery,  
What can you answer in your own defence?  Momf 
Sir Walter Playnsey, and good Captain Westford,  
First as I look for comfort from above,  
I never nursed a thought to that intent:  
Indeed these Gentlemen, Strangers to me,  
Did draw upon me, and as I suppose,  
By the provokement of Sir Robert Westford  
And Mr. Playnsey, sought to take my life.  Old Playn. 
What reason should they have for that?  Momf. 
Your worship shall perceive; Sir Robert Westford  
Wounded by Strowd, and desperate of life,  
Confessed unto my Brother the blindman,  
That by the means of him and Mr. Playnsey  
They counterfeited these Letters that wrought  
Momford's banishment; Besides all this,  
My Sword shall justify, that first by bribes,  
And then by forcive means he would have forced  
My niece unto his lust. All this is true,  
And this I'll justify upon their bodies in the open lists.  Y. Playn. 
Thou dar'st not for thy life?  Momf. 
Playnsey I dare,  
And wooed my sovereign Liege give me but leave,  
This Sun should see thy Treasons punished.  Sir Rob. 
Wert thou a Gentlemen as thou art a Slave,  
I'd make thee eat thy words or dig thy Grave.  T. Stro. 
Eat a Pudding's end, the old man shall take no wrong Sir.  Cap. West. 
Sir Robert Westford, your Gentility  
Shall not tread down the truth; long has my Soul  
Thirsted for this occasion: for when I saw  
You falsify your faith, wedding your Daughter  
Unto Playnsey's Son, that was the trothplight Husband to Bess Momford,  
I thought as much as this poor man now speaks,  
And will in single combat prove as much;  
He of you both that thinks himself most touched,  
Take up my Gage.  Y. Playn. 
Westford I'll answer thee.  Can. 
And I'll maintain Sir Robert Westford's cause.  Momf. 
Take up my Glove then.  Sir Rob. 
Give me it, I'll maintain it myself.  Had. 
This shall justify that Strowd  
And that base Villain were agreed to murder us.  T. Stro. 
I is the wind ei' that door, I'll take up thy Glove: but— and I bang not thy Coxcomb, hang me la.  Old Playn. 
I hope this challenged combat will decide the truth.  Cap. West. 
Which Heaven assisting, and the King well pleased,  
Shall be performed this present afternoon;  
I'll to the King, and never raise my Knee from the cold earth,  
Till I obtain, by privilege of flight  
A black revenge for worthy Momford's fall. Ex. Cap. West.  Y. Playn. 
And thither Westford will I follow thee,  
Or born upon the wings of my just cause,  
Arrive before thee. Exit Y. Plain.  Sir Rob. 
Each man take his way,  
St. George and Conquest guide our swords this day. Exeunt, manent  Old Stro. 
Courage my Boy, if thou prevail in fight, the Strowds.  
I'll swear Lord Momford hath not had his right.  T. Stro. 
Courage sa' ye? as Good mend me, I respect them no more than I do a flap with a Fox tail, and I do not beat'em as ye should cuyle a side of dried stockfish, I'll be bound to go to Rome with a mortar a my head.  Old Stro. 
Why well said my Son, let's away.  T. Stro. 
But hark ye Father; you know I am to go amongst the courtnowles, you must needs let me have good store of money with me, let not the name of STROWDS be disgraced, I pray Father.  Old Stro. 
Tush Boy, fear not, I'll carry 500 l. with me, and that shall fly ere thou want.  T. Stro. 
— And I'll bring some of my own too, or it shall go hard. Exeunt. Music. Cornets.   

ACT V.  Sound Trumpets. Enter King Harry the 6th. Gloster, Cardinal, Lady Ellanor, and Lords attending. King. 
Uncle of Gloster, and Lord Cardinal,  
Since all our Court has put on smooth-faced mirth,  
Only to grace your honoured marriage,  
Embrace each other in the arms of Love,  
And as you join your hands, so let your hearts  
Knit your affections in a friendly league.  Glost. 
Gloster speaks first, yet speaks he not in fear,  
As begging Bewford's friendship, but in love  
Both to his King, and to fair England's good;  
Yet ere I set my hand to this new League,  
Bewford, if any undigested wrong  
Lies in thy swelling bosom, freely speak't,  
And Gloster will as freely answer it:  
But if thy Conscience be as clear from soil  
Of hateful treachery, as Gloucester's is,  
Give me thy hand, and with thy hand thy heart,  
Which Gloster will as charily regard,  
As the best blood that's chambered in his breast▪  Card. 
On that Condition Bewford gives his hand,  
And from his heart wipes off all forepast wrongs.  King. 
Witness this League Lords, and now Ant Ellanor  
Heaven give you joy, both of our uncle's love,  
And of this new born peace. Now Uncle Gloster I desire to know  
The cause of Momford's treason, and his fall,  
Which he hath lately undergone in France?  Glost. 
His fall my Liege was great, but his offence  
Little or none; for by Velleires his means,  
Who as a Prisoner now attends your Grace,  
I have found out since Momford's banishment,  
That all his accusations were false.  King. 
Yet Guynes in which Lord Momford had a charge,  
Was yielded up by Treason.  Glost. 
True my Liege,  
I have known Momford in my brother's days,  
Put in great trust; yet never heard  
That he was found disloyal in his charge.  King. 
And Uncle Gloster, we have always had  
His honoured age in reverent esteem.  
We hear he had a Daughter, where lives she?  Glost. 
Thrust out of all by one old Westford's means.  King. 
Methinks 'tis hard the Child should not enjoy  
The riches that the painful Father left.  
Good Uncle Gloster let it be your care,  
To see old Momferd's Daughter have her right. Enter Old Pl.  
But what grave man is that?  Glost. 
Sir Walter Playnsey,  
The bosom friend unto exiled Momford.  King. 
Sir Walter Playnsey, by our uncle's leave  
I pray stand up, methinks those reverent hairs  
Deserve a softer pillar than the ground;  
I pray stand up, and boldly speak your mind.  Old Playn. 
My sovereign Liege, your Subject comes in love  
To let you know, that divers Gentlemen,  
On what presumption they themselves best know,  
Have undertaken to prove in open field,  
That the Lord Momford who late fell in France,  
Was treacherously accused.  Glost. 
Why? 'twas your Son  
That first p●oduc'd his accusation.  Old Playn. 
Your Grace will give me leave to clear myself,  
For I was neither privy to that fact,  
Nor speak in his excuse; he is my Son,  
But if in malice he hath wronged Lord Momford,  
Let him have Justice, and the Law take place.  King. 
Are they resolved to try it out in fight?  Old Playn. 
They are my Liege, and only wait your pleasure.  King. 
Even what our Uncle Gloster will set down  
We do assent to.  Glost. 
Herald fetch them in,  
See them at all points armed.  Enter with Drum Sir Robert West. young Plain. Canbee and Hadland. At the other Door old Momf. Cap. West. Tom Srrowd, and old Strowd, and Bess. Glost. 
Who is the Plaintiff?  Momf. 
I my gracious Lord.  Glost. 
Reach him the Book, and thereon take thine Oath,  
That thou art neither drawn by bribes nor hate  
To undertake this Combat.— 'Tis enough.  
Speak truth, and nought but truth, so help thee Heaven.  Momf. 
Pleaseth your Grace, this in a word is all,  
Sir Robert Westford and Mr. Playnsey there confessed  
To a blindman, in hearing of that Maid,  
That Playnsey and himself did counterfeit  
The Letters that wrought Momford's banishment.  Glost. 
Give him the Book, now answer on thine oath  
In thy defence.  Sir Rob. 
Then first my Liege 'tis false,  
Next he's a Felon, and by force of arms  
Offered to rob these honest Gentlemen  
In the high way.  T. Stro. 
— Then I can hold my tongue no longer, it's an arrant lie my Lord, that's the plain English on't: for I was by when Sir Robert Westford and Mr. Playnsey gave them 30l. to murder the Blind-beggar, his Brother, and his Daughter, and if I had not been, they had been all killed too, so had they.  King. 
Fellows what do you say to this?  ●an. 
My Liege I cannot talk, grant me the combat, and my Sword shall prove Iam a soldier, and my tongue ne'er knew the art of scolding.  Glost. 
Give him his will, alarm to the fight.  King. 
Stay, for methinks there is some difference,  
Both in their years, and their conditions,  
And for we highly prize our Subject lives,  
Good Uncle Gloster let them choose their weapons▪  
It may be a means to save their lives.  Glost. 
And hearten others in pursuit of knowledge.  
Herald bring forth all sorts of weapons,  
'Tis the King's pleasure that every man  
Make choice of those weapons he hath practised most.  
Sir Robert choose your weapon first.  Sir Rob. 
Thanks to my Liege: the common fight of these same serving men is sword and dagger, therefore I'll choose the sword and target they are unskilful in; I take the sword and target for my defence.  Momf. 
And my Liege, because Sir Rob. Westford shall not think I'll take any advantage, I'll answer him at his own weapons.  Kings. 
'Tis well; on to the next.  Y. Playn. 
Come Captain Westford, you have been in Spain,  
And well are practised in the desperate fight of single Rapier?  Cap. West. 
Playnsey I am pleased.  King. 
So are not we, the single Rapier is too desperate,  
And therefore choose some other weapon,  
Or we will have no Combat fought this day.  Y. Playn. 
Backsword then an't please your Grace.  King. 
So, we are pleased.  Can. 
Sirrah Jack, methinks Sword and Bucklet's a safe fight.  Had. 
I'll choose no other, and I had a thousand lives.  Tom. Stro. 
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 ne'er be seen again.  King. 
Sirrah thou fellow.  T. Stro. 
Anon.  King. 
What weapons wilt thou use?  T. Stro. 
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.  King. 
An ashen-gibbet? what dost thou mean by that?  T. Stro. 
What do I mean by it quoth ye?— I think you be sib to one of the London-Cockneys, that asked, whether haycocks were better meat broiled or roasted, an ashen Plant, a good cudgel, what should I ca it?  King. 
If there be such a weapon in the Court, let one go fetch it him.  T. Stro. 
Nay I'll make a page of my own age, and fet it myself. Swash bring out my blessed Beggar there.  Enter Swash with an ashen-Gibbet: Swash. 
Yes Sir, here's your blessed Beggar Master.  T. Stro. 
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 courtgate for a Pissing-post, so will I.  King. 
But two to one is odds, rather fight single.  T. Stro. 
No, they know me well enough, I have cudgeled them both afore now.  King. 
Well, if thou dare oppose them both, have thy desire.  King. 
Alarm to the flight.  Alarm. They fight, and Momford's side wins. King. 
Fellow, dost hear?  T. Stro. 
Anon?  King. 
What should I call thy Country, and thy name?  T. Stro. 
Sen ye?  Glost. 
The King wooed know thy Country, and thy name?  T. Stro. 
My name? I am not ashamed of my name, I am one Tom Strowd of Harling, I'll play a goal at Camp-ball, or wrassel a fall a the hip, or the hind turn with ere a Courtnoll of ye all, for 20 quarters of Male, and march me height for height.  King. 
A lusty fellow trust—  
We have too few such Subjects in our Land; where's the Blind-beggar and his brother?  T. Stro. 
Where the Blind-beggar is I know not, but here's the pretty Mother his Daughter; and thou be'st 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'er thou laydest thy lips too, so will I, sen ye?  Old Stro. 
How? marry with a Beggar? mix the blood of Strowd's with a tatter? either cast her off, or I will cast off thee.  To Stro. 
Now we shall have a coil with ye; and ye were not my father I'd knock your pate, so wooed I.  Old Stro. 
How's that? do and thou dare.  Momf. 
Strowd, though she be Daughter to a poor Bind-man that long hath lived on good men's 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.  T. Stro. 
Bate me an ace of that qd. Bolton, yet I would I had her as naked as my nail.  Old Stro. 
As good a portion as my Son? proud Beggar,  
'Tis not your Clapdish and your patched Gown can do't.  Momf. 
However poor, good Sir disgrace me not.  Old Stro. 
'Tis my disgrace to be out-worded by a Beggar?  
But and thou be'st such a well-monied man  
As thou dost brag, dar'st drop old Angels with me?  
And he that out-drops other, take up all?  Momf. 
That were ambition in a beggar Sir.  Cap. West. 
'Twere credit for thee, and thou couldst outdrop him.  Momf. 
So please my Liege to give me leave, I'll venture  
That small Estate I have.  King. 
We are content,  
Amongst cares 'tis fit to mix some merriment.  Momf. 
Come hither Daughter; are you ready Master?  T. Stro. 
— 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 jingle 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.  Momf. 
I thus begin.  Old Stro. 
And thus I answer thee.  Momf. 
Thus I reply.  Old Stro. 
And thus do I join issue.  T. Stro. 
I had rather join issue with the Mother a great deal, had I.  Old Stro. 
Some more money Swash.  Swash. 
Here Master, we'll outdrop the Beggar, we'll make Gill sweat else.  Old Stro. 
Hast thou any money about thee Tom?  T. Stro. 
An hundred angels, and a better penny, Pigs of your own Sow Father.  Momf. 
There's 20 more.  Old. Stro. 
More yet? the Rascal will disgrace me; more yet?  T. Stro. 
And yet too,— you think beggars ha' no lice father.  Glost. 
Why how now Strowd, begins it to be low water with ye?  Old Stro. 
I am even run a ground, have droped till I can drop no more.  T. Stro. 
You must even burn of the spit, for I have no more oil of Angels to baste you father.  Old Stro. 
Nor thou Swash?  Swash. 
Only a broken three farthings that I kept in a corner to buy my wench pins with.  Momf. 
All this is mine then.  Old. Stro. 
I not deny't, 'tis true  
That was our match, and so good Gold adieu.  T. Stro. 
— I have brought my hogs to a fair Market, must I lose the Mother and all my Gold too?  Old Stro. 
Yes saith, all's gone Tom.  T. Stro. 
This is your foolery Father, and I had done't, we should have had such a scolding with you.  Momf. 
Then Strowd where thou before didst scorn my Daughter,  
Now I do scorn thy Son; not moved through hate,  
For Strowd I hold thee a most honest man,  
For right thou didst unto Lord Momford's Daughter,  
And since thy Son did save my poor Girls life,  
And rescued mine with hazard of his own,  
This Gold which by our bargain is all mine  
I freely give him towards his marriage.  King. 
Trust me a gallant Beggar.  T. Stro. 
Beggar?— He might be a King for his bounty, for he gives away all.  Swash. 
I know the reason of that, he can beg more, and Begging be so good an occupation wooed I had been bound Apprentice to't seven years ago, there was somewhat to be got by it then, 'tis out of request now.  T. Stro. 
This is old excellent, here carry't to my Chamber Swash, and lock the door fast I charge thee.  Swash. 
And I meet no false Knaves by the way; Canbee and Hadland here had been a simple boon for you now. Exit.  Momf. 
And now my Lord, since Momford is proved clear,  
And his Accusers have confessed their guilt,  
I freely give my Daughter to the man,  
Who for the love of Momford( Loved of all)  
Will take her to his wife.  Cap. West 
For Momford's sake, whose honoured deeds  
Are writ up with the blood of the proud French,  
Were she the meanest and deformedest Creature  
That treads upon the bosom of the earth,  
Westford wooed take, love, live and marry her.  Momf. 
Nay then I see that virtue shall find friends;  
Take her good Captain, and for Momford's sake  
Use the Maid kindly.  T. Stro. 
Why farewell 40 pence, I ha fished fair and caught a frog; well Mother, though I am no Gentleman, I could ha brought you to more Land than a score on 'em, thou shouldst have had 40 as fair milch kine to your pail, as a man should need to see in a summer's day, 4 yoke of Oxen, and three team of Cart-horses; besides; thou shouldst 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 leathern 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 flapjacks, 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.  Momford discovers himself. Cap. W. 
Gl. Card. Momford!  King. 
Bold Momford living, and proved Loyal,  
Thy Love like a rich Jewel we will wear  
Next to our heart; upon those Gentlemen  
That have maintained and proved faithful,  
We do confer a 100 Crowns a piece.  Momf. 
Your Grace in this does Momford double right;  
And noble countrymen while we do live,  
Your Love and Valour must not be forgotten.  Old Playn. 
How is't you will we deal with your Accusers?  King. 
That we refer unto our Uncle Gloster,  
Who better knows those passages than we.  Glost. 
Since 'tis your will my Liege, then thus't must be,  
For you Y. Playnsey and Sir Robert Westford  
Receive a legal trial; Canbee and Hadland,  
We for a precedent will have you sent  
Out of the Land to dateless banishment.  Can. 
Thanks your good honour, and we'll do you more good by cheating your enemies abroad, than ever we did hurt by cozening honest subjects at home.  King. 
Good Uncle Gloster, we commend your care  
For throwing out such rank weeds forth our Land,  
Whose weakened body hath been sick too long,  
Wanting those helps that should have made it strong.  
Amongst whom Lord Momford you are not the least,  
( Pray Heaven you be the last) whom this wild beast,  
Ambitious treason sought to ruinate:  
But in requital of your more than wrong  
We make you here our Lord High-Treasurer;  
And Captain Westford, make you General  
Of all our forces mustered up against France.  
Thus our disjointed Kingdom being made strong,  
Each Member seated in his proper seat▪  
Let's in to praise his name, whose powerful hand  
Protects the safety of our peaceful Land,  
John DAY.   
FINIS