Enter Gerrard.

Ger.  Bless my good Master, The prayers of your poor Beads-man ever shall Be sent up for you.

Gos.  God o’ mercy Clause, There’s something to put thee in mind hereafter To think of me.

Ger.  May he that gave it you Reward you for it, with encrease, good Master.

Gos.  I thrive the better for thy prayers.

Ger.  I hope so. 
This three years have I fed upon your bounties,
And by the fire of your blest charity warm’d me,
And yet, good Master, pardon me, that must,
Though I have now receiv’d your alms, presume
To make one sute more to you.

Gos.  What is’t Clause?

Ger.  Yet do not think me impudent I beseech you,
Since hitherto your charity hath prevented
My begging your relief, ’tis not for mony
Nor cloaths (good Master) but your good word for me.

Gos.  That thou shalt have, Clause, for I think thee honest.

Ger.  To morrow then (dear M’r.) take the trouble
Of walking early unto Beggars Bush,
And as you see me, among others (Brethren
In my affliction) when you are demanded
Which you like best among us, point out me,
And then pass by, as if you knew me not.

Gos.  But what will that advantage thee?

Ger.  O much Sir,
’Twill give me the preheminence of the rest,
Make me a King among ’em, and protect me
From all abuse, such as are stronger, might
Offer my age; Sir, at your better leisure
I will inform you further of the good
It may do to me.

Gos.  ’Troth thou mak’st me wonder; Have you a King and common-wealth among you?

Ger.  We have, and there are States are govern’d worse.

Gos.  Ambition among Beggars?

Ger.  Many great ones
Would part with half their states, to have the place,
And credit to beg in the first file, Master: 
But shall I be so much bound to your furtherance
In my Petition?

Gos. That thou shalt not miss of, Nor any worldly care make me forget it, I will be early there.

Ger. Heaven bless my Master. [Exeunt.

ACTUS SECUNDUS.  SCENA PRIMA.

Enter Higgen, Ferret, Prig, Clause, Jaculine, Snap, Ginks, and other beggars.

Hig. Come Princes of the ragged regiment, You o’ the blood, Prig my most upright Lord, And these (what name or title, e’re they bear) Jarkman, or Patrico, Cranke, or Clapperdudgeon, Frater, or Abram-man; I speak to all That stand in fair Election for the title Of King of Beggars, with the command adjoyning, Higgen, your Orator, in this Inter-regnum, That whilom was your Dommerer, doth beseech you All to stand fair, and put your selves in rank, That the first Comer, may at his first view Make a free choice, to say up the question.