An Excellent COMEDY, Called, The PRINCE OF PRIGGS REVELS: OR, The Practices of that grand Thief Captain JAMES HIND, Relating Divers of his Pranks and Exploits, never heretofore published by any.  
 with various Conceits, and Tarltonian Mirth, suitable to the Subject.  
Written by J. S.  
LONDON, Printed for G. HORTON, 1651.   

The Names of the Actors.  

The Master-Thief. 

HIND    
His Associates. 

TURBO  
LATRO  
SPOLARIO    
A Priest (desirous to seem sententious) Chaplain to the Thiefs, and a Thief for company. 

GRAMMARIO    
A Merchant of Bristol. 

AVARITIO    
A wealthy Lady. 

INFORTUNIA    
An Alderman.  
A Citizen of London. 

MERCATOR    
His two Friends.  
The KING of SCOTS.  
Servants of either Sex.  
The Scene, ENGLAND.    

To the Reader.  
IT was Plato's conceit, that if Virtue had a body so that all the beauty and lustre of its several ornaments could be seen, all men would be in love with it: By the same rule, were Vice drawn, and all the part, and limbs of it set before us in its height of Deformity, that with one glance of the Eye we might discover all the ugliness of it, we should fly from it with winged haste. The true and primary intent of the Tragedians and Commedians of old, was to magnify Virtue, and to depress Vice; And you may observe throughout the Works of incomparable Johnson, excellent Shakespeare, and elegant Fletcher, &c they (however vituperated by some streight-laced brethren not capable of their sublimity) aim at no other end: My drift is the same in the composure of this Comedy; Pamphlets no Critic can more contemn then myself; however, it may please thousands of the vulgar (for whose sakes I am purposely plain and spungey) something there is here that will inform the wiser sort. Such things as these are less than least of my Recreations.  
VALE.   

The Prologue.  

SInce that the Apes and Parrots of the Stage,  
Are filenced by the Clamours of the Age;  
Like Coneys forced to feed on Bran and Grass,  
(The true Desciples of Pythagoras)  
Whose Copper-Lace, and Copper-Noses once  
Made them to think themselves great Prester-Johns:  
You'll (sure) have cause to praise, and thank that man  
Can make each Thief a complete Roscian:  
Then much good do't you (Sirs) fall to and eat,  
You ne'er had cheaper (perhaps) better meat.    

THE PRINCE OF PRIGGS:  

Actus Primus.  
The Argument of the first Act. Hind's wily Cozenage of a Merchant at Bristol, leaving him prisoner in a Portmantle.  Enter Hind, Furbo, Latro, Spolario, Grammario, as in a Tavern, Wine and Bags of Money before them. HIND. 

Drink deep my brave boys of the Bastinado  
Of Stramazons, Tinctures, and ●lie-passata's,  
Of the Carricado, and brave Enb ocada,  
Of Blades and Rapier-Hil●s: of surest guard  
Of the Vincentio, and Eurgonian Ward:  
Have we not bravely tossed this bumbast-foil-button.  
Win gold, and wear gold Boys, 'tis we that merit it,   Furbo. 
Come, let's share.  Latro. 
I, I, each man as he deserves.  Spol. 

If each man claim no more than he deserves.  
There will be a precedency for pelf   Gram. 
Monstrum horrendum: 'twere incongruous.  Hind. 

No fractions my dear Myrmidons,  
Stand firm to your old form of Discipline.   Latro. 

But Sir, must all our judgements mump and set,  
And rest upon this kickshaw Marmoset:  
This Athens Ape 'cause he can simperingly  
Yaul Auditores humanissimi.   Fur. 
True (Latro)  Spol. 

He's the mere Sponge that sucks up all our gain;  
A very Tumbril stuffed with—  
Whom we preserve, as Witches their Familiars,  
With prodigal expense of our own blood.   Gram. 

Non laedere  
sed ludere,  
Non Laneae  
sed linea,  
Non ictus  
Sed nictus  
potius.   Latro. 

Pox of your cunning canting tongue  
That beastly language merits more than halter.  
The Axe or stigmatising—   Hind. 

No more my Stern Copartners in ill,  
Skilful Surveyors of Highways and Hedges,  
Grammaro must not thus be cudgeled (Sirs) his orisons must make way for our souls, when by sinister chance we leave the earth. Learning's that general Soul which Plato saith,  
Fixeth the world; we must make much of him.   Gram. 

Sol latet in herbis.  
My anger goes down with the Sun (Sir,)   Hind. 
Come; all shake hands,— my habit A Merchant's suit produced, Hind puts it on. Dear Spolario, Are all our. Horses, and our Arms in safety.  Spolario; 

They feed like Pluto's palfreys under ground,  
Our Pistols, Swords, and other surniture  
Are safely locked up at our Rendezvous.   Hind. 

He lingers strangely—  
Did he assare you confidently he'd come.   Spola. 

Should death (Sir) meet him or his Father's Ghost,  
They'd hardly th'wart his Journey; I perceived him  
Wrapped in so mirthful an Astonishment,  
He scarce could frame an Answer to my Message;  
The Ape did chatter to himself  
Like to some bill-patcht door, whose entrails have  
Spewed out their Tenant, oh I ravished him,  
he'd come.   Hind; 
Are the Gaggs fixed, and all the Gives in readiness.  Spola. 
They are.  Hind. 
Be gone.  All go off save Hind. Enter Avaritio with two Servants, bearing bags of Money. Avaritio. 
Peace here be multiplied.  Hind. 

You are most welcome (Sir)  
I see you'll make the 
* Hind called his ship (by his servant to the Merchant) the Strange-Adventure.  STRANGE ADVENTURE yours   Avaritio. 
Sir, I have ever held it plety to gratify my friends on good conditions, here is five thousand pounds; five thousand more shallbe your own whon I have viewed the goods.  Hind. 

You are most nobly honest;  
Drink (Sir) a hearty glass.   Avar. 
What's this a Masque?  Hind stamps with his foot; then enters Turbo, Latro, etc. in vizards: gag Avaritio and his men. Hind. 
A Matachin, you'll find it.  Avar. 
Aw, Aw, Aw.  Hind. 

Bear his two servants  
Amongst their fellow beasts i'th' Ostrey:  
Take that Westphalia-Gammon-Clove stuck-face,  
And box him up within that Leather Engine.   Avar. 
Aw, Aw, Aw.  Hind. 

This bag belongs to Capt. Martius,  
who with his Dagger often hacks his sword, They thrust him into a Portmantle.  
And with whole Culverin raging oaths doth tear  
The Vault of Heaven, spitting in the eyes  
Of Nature, natures loathsome blasphemies:  
Five hundred pounds in gold it lately boasted,  
This old Extortioner shall return the sum,  
And think he cheaply is a Libertine:  
Transport him hence into that Captain's Chamber;  
This Key will give you entrance.  They carry him off. 
There place this putrid piece of parcemonie.  
Anon we'll share our Coin, and suck our Sack.  
Still be propitious juggling 
* Mercury.  god, thy shrine  
I'll lad with Hecatombs of spotted Kine:  
For roguing Virtue brings a man defame,  
A pack-staff Epithet, and scorned name.    

Actus Secundus.  
The Argument of the second Act. Hind feigning himself a great Lord, putting some of his Train into rich Liveries, and storing his and their pockets with Gold, grows very intimate with a brave and noble Lady, whom at once he deprives of the inestimable jewel of her honour, together with much treasure.  Enter HIND solus, in brave . 

TUsh! Pluto's wrath Proserpin can melt,  
So that thy Sacrifice be freely felt:  
What cannot Juno force in bed with Jove,  
Turn and return a Sentence with her love:  
Well! plainly thus; Sleight, Force, are mighty things  
From which even all, all earthly glory springs.  
If Virtue's self were clad in humane shape,  
Virtue without these might go beg and scrape:  
The naked truth is, a well-cloathed lie,  
A nimble quick-pate, mounts to dignity;  
By force or fraud, that matters not a jot,  
So massy wealth may fall into thy lot.   Enter Grammario. Gram. 

Quod gratis grate; and I dare aver  
That Hiadolgo the ginger  
Is a right honest man— All hail my Sovereign.   Hind. 

Prithee no Jibs,  
Thou knowst my plot upon fair Infortunia;  
A wealthy widow; nay, a beauteous widow;  
A Lady of high birth, and great perfection,  
Be thou my conduct and my Genius,  
My wits inciting sweet-breathed Zephyrus;  
Some Verses, some Verses, my heliconian Harper,  
Women are strangely taken with strange words.   Gram. 

Totum in toto, Sir, I have fitted you I faith,  
I was fain to devour one whole page out of Ovid,  
Three large sized sentences out of Catullus  
One Axiom out of Hero and Leander;  
And a whole stanzao out of Venus and Adonis,  
Ere I could hit upon a right strain of poesy;  
But at length I hammered them out.  
pray mark me,   
He reads, 
Fairest piece of well-formed earth,  
Urge not this your haughty Birth,  
The power which you have o'er us lies,  
Not in your race but in your eyes  
Should you not Honey vow to taste  
But what the master Bees have placed  
In compass of their cells, how small  
A portion to your share would fall;  
The sap which at the root is bred  
In Trees through all the Boughs is spread,  
But virtues which in Parents shine  
Make not like progress through the line:  
'Tis not from whom, but where we live,  
The place does oft those graces give  
Great Julius on the Mountains bred,  
A Flock perhaps, or Herd had led;  
He that the world subdued had been  
But the best Wrestler on the Green;  
'Tis Art and Knowledge which draw forth  
The hidden seeds of native worth,  
They blow those sparks and make them rise  
Into such flames as touch the Skies.  
Smile but on me and you shall scorn  
Henceforth to be of Princes born.   Hind. 

They are most incomparable;  
'twas well remembered for to urge my breeding;  
My birth I'm sure would Butcher all my hopes.  
Thou seest how bravely I am clad (my boy)  
In speaking garments, speaking pockets too.  chink's his pockets. 
The Lord Porta Rich (Grammario) is my name:  
Go thou, and give that paper to the Lady,  
Sing in her ear like to the amorous Lute,  
Set forth my name in a Stentorian tone;  
I'll second thee myself in person presently:  
Be gone.   Gram. 
I'll do my utmost (Sir)  Hind. 

It is a high, brave thing to have th'repute  
Of complete villain, perfect, absolute. Exit.   Enter Infortunia, with Grammario, servants. Infort. 

Sir, your Lord no doubt is every way accomplished:  
And I'll assure you, finds far more regard  
From me, in the reception of this paper,  
Then any personage of honour hitherto  
Can ever boast, though earnestly endeavoured.   Gram. 

Madam, if you did know who seeks your love,  
You would— he comes himself.   Enter Hind in rich Apparel, Furbo, Latro, Spolario in costly Liveries, bareheaded, attending him. Hind. 

Madam, I hope my boldness shall find pardon,  
And my affectionate zeal plead my excuse.  
Distribute those few Diamonds, and Pearl Bracelets  to Furbo. 
Unto the Ladies that attend this Excellency.   Furbo gives many Bristol stones, and counterfeit Pearls to the attending Gentlewoman. Infor. 

My Lord your honour sets too high a rate  
Upon so mean a beauty as is mine  Furbo, and his follows steal off.  Hind, 

You are sole Empress of all worth,  
Command my state, my person and my life.   Infor. 

Your honour is too courteous to your handmaid,  
Please you, this night, to let your presence grace  
My homely Table, your honour's candour must  
Apologise for my rude entertainment.   Hind, 
Excellent creature, ever command your vassal.  Seru. 
Lights there for my Lord; lights— Exeunt.  Enter Furbo, Latro, etc. Furb. 
They are all gauged and bound.  Latro. 
As safe as my Lord Hind in his mistress arms.  Furb. 
Are they in bed together?  Lat. 
To my knowledge,  Spolario, 
We shall soon part their struggle.  Furb. 
Thiefs, thiefs, Exeunt, and return laden with bags of gold, and caskets of jewels, having b●odied themselves.  Spola. 
Thiefs,  Lat. 
Murder, murder.  Enter Infortunia and Hind, almost naked, with his sword drawn. Hind, 

What saucy devils interrupt our joys?  
What mean these clamours, speak upon your lives?   Lat. 
Alas! my Lord the house is robbed.  Infor. 
Oh, I am quite undone—  Furb. 

You see how we are sanguin'dore  
Fight for to prevent such outrages:   Spolar. 
My leg is almost cut in sunder, oh—  Hind, 

Be not discomforted (dear Lady)  
Every man mount his steed, and take his Arms;  
Myself too, will along: accursed mischance;  
To horse, to horse; you Lady to your bed.   Infor. 
Oh me! Exit Infortunia.  Hind, 

Why this is bravely done my Bullies;  
Thus do the Gods sell all for industry,  
And what's not got by hellbred Villainy?  
Conscience they talk on; conscience is free,  
Worst conscienced men, these times, best thrivers be;  
As't please the Thracian Boreas to blow  
So turns our airy conscience to and fro. Exeunt.    

Actus Tertius.  
The Argument of the third Act. Hind and his Comrades disguising themselves in Devils habits, terrify the Country people, and rob an Alderman of the City of York.  Enter Hind, Latro, Furbo, Grammario, habited like Devils. Hind, 

'tTwere well for the great Grandees of the earth  
(My fellow Furies) were there no worse Fiends  
In pitchy Bara thrum than we: Oh how  
The Boars and Bumpkins of this Shire do dread us  
No less than twelve already are run mad.   Latro, 

Me thinks I like my transmutation well,  
Only my tail is too, too troublesome—   Gram. 

Fronti nulla Fides  
Mistagogus, What mean these prodigies?  
Where is your vice or virtue's habits now?  
For sustine pro nunc doth bend his brow.   Fur. 

You (Parson) now are in your native weeds,  
Black best becomes your swarthy function  
Whose Doctrine (for the most part) damns more souls  
Than Lucifer by all his stratagems.   Hind, 
Oh, our Scout comes merrily.  Spolario whooping and hallowing within. Enter Spolario. Spol. 
A prize, prize, a prize—  Hind. 
The news?  Spol. 

The Indies sally toward us;  
An Alderman of York quite gilded o'er,  
His servants and his horses groan with gold,  
Are journeying this way.   Hind. 

Couch close, my doughty deviss,  They all go out, and return laden with treasure. 
Let's seize upon them with as winged haste  
As real Demons at the hour of death  
Hurry a vicious soul to Tartarus.   Hind. 

Who would not be a Devil for an hour,  
To be a man of money twelve months after—?   Lat. 

The Alderman (poor wretch) begged for his soul;  
His innate guilt; fear of assured damnation  
Made him forget petitioning for his pelf.  
Quoth he, I smell sulphur, and reaking brimstone.  
Soot, stinking soot: Oh hell, how hot art thou!   Gram, 

Stulto 'em plena sunt omnia.  
An ass in's foot-cloth; 'tis no sin to gull him;  
He I thank heaven that his own chain did not choke him,  
And praise the devil for's deliverance:  
He'll soon recover all by his collusions,  
Abatements, stoppels, inhibitions.  
Heavy paced jade, dull pated jobbernoul,  
Quck in delays, checking with vain control  
Fair Justice course, vile necessary evil,  
Smooth seeming saint, yet damned incarnate Devil.   Hind. 

Well said my man of art, and mystic science:  
I know this Alderman and his Lawyer's case;  
I feed him one, and he cudgeled my case,  
For which I vowed revenge, and have perfotmed it.  they put off their disguises, and are in other habits, 
Now every one resume his pristine form;  
Our next scence lies in Kent; thither let's high.   He speaks this aside to himself. 

Me thinks I feel a civil war within me,  
Egging me on for to proceed from this,  
And get the substance of celestial bliss;  
My soul oft calls his Parliament of sense,  
But still the guilty have pre-eminence:  
For my souls better part so feeble is,  
So cold and dead is, my Sinder●sis,  
That shadows by odd chance sometimes are got;  
But oh! the substance is respected not.  
Come let's away. Exeunt.    

Actus Quartus.  
The Argument of the Fourth Argument. Hind And his associates disguised like Beggars, rob a wealthy Citizen of London, and his two friends, near Hogsden.  Enter Hind, Furbo, Latro, Grammario, Spolario, in patched coats, like beggars, their legs and arms bound up. Hind. 

Are we not finely fitted (fellow mendicants)  
For a days prenticeship to the begging trade?  
O sad account! we that were wont to speak  
In smoke and thunder, STAND— UPON YOUR LIVES,  
Must now petition for a piece of coin.   Latro. 

Tut,  
Our begging is like that the Persians used  
Of old unto their eager God of fire,  
When with a flaming torch they did descend  
Unto some river, and protest to quench  
Th'a spiring God, in case he did deny  
To grant their wishes. Oh, I have't add unguem,  
The Bard of Bednal green was nothing to me,   Gram. 

Eo Claudus, et Aegrotus sum,  
This is the garb men of my cloth must take to,  
Since every Salesman writes himself Sacer does.  
Stand close, and obsecrate with Rheumatic eyes,  
Here comes the Patron we must plunder.   Enter Mercator a Citizen, with two friends. Mercat. 
A fine morning this is.  1 Friend. 
Oh that my wife had born us company; good soul, she loves to hear the Cuckoo sing, especially in the winter.  2. Friend. 
So does mine, indeedla.  Hind. 
Bless your good worships in your minds and your bodies, at home and abroad, in bed and at board, The thiefs come all about them & beg. 
No troubles toss ye,  
Nor no hare cross ye;  
No succubus ride ye,  
No false fire guide ye;  Please to distribute your charity amongst a company of poor maimed men—  Lat. 
Deprived of their limbs for the cause of their Country, whose legs and hands remain as Trophies, in France, Spain, Arragon and Apulia.  Furbo. 
In Turkey, in Russia, in Naples and Muscovia  Spilar. 
In the Adriatic and the Baltic Seas.  Gram. 

Supposito quolibet sequitur qu idlibet,  
For your own sakes whose rewards shall be glorious,  
Extend with liberal minds, and willing hands,  
What both becomes your oppulency, and our indigency.   Mer. 
hay day! What bold beggars are these?  1. Friend, 
What Country men are they? They speak all several Languages.  2. Friend. 
They are men of China I think.  Mer. 
Truly friends the times are so hard, and we so burdened, that verily, yea and nay, we are scarce able to furnish our wives with a competent number of silk gowns, lawn smocks, gold laces, beaver hats, silver hilted fans, Flanders lace's and other necessaries, without which, all honest men know we cannot subsist.  1. Friend, 
He speaks truth my brethren.  Hind, 
Zounds what dogs are these— Come ye counterfeiting Coxcombs Discover, discover: They discover their swords and pistols, and put them to the Citizen's breasts. you (Mercator) brought forth 6. hundred pounds to expiate a debt you own at Hogsden here.  Mer. 
Take all (Sir) so you'll spare my life.  Hind, 
Alas, I'd rather overthrow thy wife.  Latro. 
What d'ye linger ye pair of Puttocks? Come, lighten, lighten.  1. Friend. 
Oh Lord (sir!)  2. Friend. 
woe and alas! they rob them.  Hind. 

Now each man lay his hand upon his mouth:  
Mum, not a word upon your lives.  
Away my Blades, this must we do for gain,  
Since as the ancient Sages truly tell,  
" 'tis better ne'er to be, than not be well.    

Actus Quintus.  
The Argument of the Fifth Act. The Scots King being overthrown at the battle of Worcster, accepts of Hinds conduct (knowing how well he was acquainted with the Country) who carries him safe away. (Ut aiunt.)  Enter Hind and the King of Scots. Hind. 

Me thinks (Sir) you do seem in this disguise,  
Like lightning in the Keldar of a cloud:  
Your visage (Sir) is not least legible,  
There is a Libel in your very dress.   King. 

Well sung the Roman Bard, that all things sublunary  
Of worth do hang on very slender strings.   Hind. 

Nothing's more ticklish than the state of Kings:  
Tall Cedars oft are torn up by the roots  
By blustering Boreas, when the humble shrub  
Sits safe, exalting to behold their ruin.   King. 

I know as well all bodies politic  
As those are humane, have their Dates and Deaths.  
The Romans first had Kings, whose rule took end  
In Yarquins' fall; Consuls than sat at helm,  
Swaying the Argoser of all the world,  
Until Augustus leaped into the throne,  
Making all stoop to single sovereignty:  
Thus have all things terre strial their Dates,  
The greatest Emperors, and greatest States,  
The Lamps of Heaven, the Planets change above,  
The Sun from his Diurnal Arch doth move;  
Air doth sometime to fire or water run,  
And fire an earthly habit doth put on,  
That men asleep, rocked by felicity,  
That vainly dream here of Eternity,  
May wake and see, since humane and Divine  
Things taste mutation, 'tis nor strange 'tis Mine.   Hind, 

(Sir) I'm acquainted well with all these parts;  
All England is, but as More fields to me,  
Make me your guide (Sir) and ne'er doubt your safety;  
For though to others I have been untrue,  
Let me be hanged if I prove false to you. Exeunt.     

Epilogue.  

Our Author's Invention would not admit delay,  
But straight produced new Plots, t'enlarge this play;  
And thinking to write what's fancy had commended,  
One comes and tells him, Hind was apprehended:  
Whereat amazed he bids his friend adieu,  
And forth he's gone, to inquire if th' news be true.   
FINIS.