Clau. That we must have, my learned oratour, It is our will, and every man to keep In his own path and circuit.

Hig. Do you hear?  You must hereafter maund on your own pads he saies.

Clau. And what they get there, is their own, besides To give good words.

Hig. Do you mark? to cut been whids, That is the second Law.

Clau. And keep a-foot The humble, and the common phrase of begging, Lest men discover us.

Hig. Yes; and cry sometimes, To move compassion:  Sir, there is a table, That doth command all these things, and enjoyns ’em, Be perfect in their crutches, their feign’d plaisters, And their torn pass-ports, with the ways to stammer, And to be dumb, and deaf, and blind, and lame, There, all the halting paces are set down, I’th’ learned language.

Clau. Thither I refer them, Those, you at leisure shall interpret to them.  We love no heaps of laws, where few will serve.

Om. O gracious Prince, ’save, ’save the good King Clause.

Hig. A Song to crown him.

Fer. Set a Centinel out first.

Snap. The word?

Hig. A Cove comes, and fumbumbis to it.—­ Strike.

    The SONG.

Cast our Caps and cares away:  this is Beggars Holy-day,
At the Crowning of our King, thus we ever dance and sing. 
In the world look out and see:  where’s so happy a Prince as he? 
Where the Nation live so free, and so merry as do we? 
Be it peace, or be it war, here at liberty we are,
And enjoy our ease and rest; To the field we are not prest;
Nor are call’d into the Town, to be troubled with the Gown. 
Hang all Officers we cry, and the Magistrate too, by;
When the Subsidie’s encreast, we are not a penny Sest. 
Nor will any go to Law, with the Beggar for a straw. 
All which happiness he brags, he doth owe unto his rags._

Enter Snap, Hubert, and Hemskirke.

Snap. A Cove comes:  Fumbumbis.

Prig. To your postures; arm.

Hub. Yonder’s the Town:  I see it.

Hemsk. There’s our danger Indeed afore us, if our shadows save not.

Hig. Bless your good Worships.

Fer. One small piece of mony.

Prig. Amongst us all poor wretches.

Clau. Blind, and lame.

Ginks. For his sake that gives all.

Hig. Pitifull Worships.

Snap. One little doyt.

Enter Jaculin.

Jac. King, by your leave, where are you?

Fer. To buy a little bread.

Hig. To feed so many Mouths, as will ever pray for you.

Prig. Here be seven of us.

Hig. Seven, good Master, O remember seven, Seven blessings.

Fer. Remember, gentle Worship.