Scene III The Street
Enter Kite, with Costar Pearmain in one Hand, and Thomas Appletree in the other, drunk.
Kite sings.
Our ’prentice Tom may now refuse
To wipe his scoundrel master’s shoes,
For now he’s free to sing and play
Over the hills and far away.
Over, &c.
[The Mob sing the Chorus.
We shall lead more happy lives
By getting rid of brats and wives,
That scold and brawl both night and day,
Over the hills and far away.
Over, &c.
Kite. Hey, boys! thus we soldiers live! drink, sing, dance, play;—we live, as one should say—we live—’tis impossible to tell how we live—we are all princes—why, why you are a king—you are an emperor, and I’m a prince—now, an’t we?
Tho. No serjeant, I’ll be no emperor.
Kite. No!
Tho. I’ll be a justice of peace.
Kite. A justice of peace, man!
Tho. Ay, wauns will I; for since this pressing act, they are greater than any emperor under the sun.
Kite. Done; you are a justice of peace, and you are a king, and I am a duke, and a rum duke, an’t I?
Cost. I’ll be a queen.
Kite. A queen.
Cost. Ay, of England, that’s greater than any king of them all.
Kite. Bravely said, ‘faith! huzza for the queen. [Huzza.] But harkye, you Mr. Justice, and you Mr. Queen, did you ever see the king’s picture?
Both. No! no! no!
Kite. I wonder at that; I have two of them set in gold, and as like his majesty, God bless the mark! see here, they are set in gold.
[Takes two broad pieces out of his pocket; presents one to each.
Tho. The wonderful works of nature! [Looking at it.
What’s this written about? here’s a posy, I believe.—Ca-ro-lus!—what’s that, serjeant?
Kite. O! Carolus! why, Carolus is Latin for King George; that’s all.
Cost. Tis a fine thing to be a scollard.—Serjeant, will you part with this? I’ll buy it on you, if it come within the compass of a crown.
Kite. A crown! never talk of buying; ’tis the same thing among friends, you know; I’ll present them to ye both: you shall give me as good a thing. Put them up, and remember your old friend when I am over the hills and far away.
[They sing, and put up the Money.
Enter Plume, singing.
Over the hills and over the main,
To Flanders, Portugal, or Spain;
The king commands and we’ll obey,
Over the hills and far away.
Come on my men of mirth, away with it; I’ll make one among ye. Who are these hearty lads?
Kite. Off with your hats; ’ounds! off with your hats: this is the captain, the captain.
Tho. We have seen captains afore now, mun.
Cost. Ay, and lieutenant-captains too. ‘Sflesh! I’ll keep on my nab.
Tho. And I’se scarcely d’off mine for any captain in England. My vether’s a freeholder.
Plume. Who are those jolly lads, serjeant?
Kite. A couple of honest brave fellows that are willing to serve the king: I have entertained them just now as volunteers, under your honour’s command.
Plume. And good entertainment they shall have: volunteers are the men I want; those are the men fit to make soldiers, captains, generals.
Cost. Wounds, Tummas, what’s this! are you listed?
Tho. Flesh! not I: are you, Costar?
Cost. Wounds! not I.
Kite. What! not listed? ha! ha! ha! a very good jest, i’faith.
Cost. Come, Tummus, we’ll go home.
Tho. Ay, ay, come.
Kite. Home! for shame, gentlemen; behave yourselves better before your captain. Dear Tummas, honest Costar!
Tho. No, no! we’ll be gone.
Kite. Nay, then, I command you to stay: I place you both centinels in this place for two hours, to watch the motion of St. Mary’s clock you, and you the motion of St. Chad’s; and he, that dares stir from his post till he be relieved, shall have my sword in his guts the next minute.
Plume. What’s the matter, serjeant? I’m afraid you are too rough with these gentlemen.
Kite. I’m too mild, sir; they disobey command, sir; and one of them should be shot, for an example to the other.
Cost. Shot! Tummas?
Plume. Come, gentlemen, what’s the matter?
Tho. We don’t know; the noble serjeant is pleas’d to be in a passion, sir; but——
Kite. They disobey command; they deny their being listed.
Tho. Nay, serjeant, we don’t downright deny it, neither; that we dare not do, for fear of being shot; but we humbly conceive, in a civil way, and begging your worship’s pardon, that we may go home.
Plume. That’s easily known. Have either of you received any of the king’s money?
Cost. Not a brass farthing, sir.
Kite. They have each of them received one-and-twenty shillings, and ’tis now in their pockets.
Cost. Wounds! if I have a penny in my pocket but a bent sixpence, I’ll be content to be listed and shot into the bargain.
Tho. And I: look ye here, sir.
Cost. Nothing but the king’s picture, that the serjeant gave me just now.
Kite. See there, a guinea, one and twenty shillings; t’other has the fellow on’t.
Plume. The case is plain, gentlemen: the goods are found upon you: those pieces of gold are worth one-and-twenty shillings each.
Cost. So it seems that Carolus is one-and-twenty shillings in Latin.
Tho. ’Tis the same thing in Greek, for we are listed.
Cost. Flesh; but we an’t, Tummus: I desire to be carried before the mayor, captain.
[Captain and Serjeant whisper the while.
Plume. ’Twill never do, Kite—your damned tricks will ruin me at last—I won’t lose the fellows, though, if I can help it.—Well, gentlemen, there must be some trick in this; my serjeant offers to take his oath that you are fairly listed.
Tho. Why, captain, we know that you soldiers have more liberty of conscience than other folks; but for me or neighbour Costar here to take such an oath, ’twould be downright perjuration.
Plume. Lookye, rascal, you villain! If I find that you have imposed upon these two honest fellows, I’ll trample you to death, you dog—Come, how was’t?
Tho. Nay, then we’ll speak. Your serjeant, as you say, is a rogue, an’t like your worship, begging your worship’s pardon—and—
Cost. Nay, Tummus, let me speak, you know I can read.——And so, sir, he gave us those two pieces of money for pictures of the king, by way of a present.
Plume. How? by way of a present! the son of a whore! I’ll teach him to abuse honest fellows like you!—scoundrel! rogue! villain!
[Beats off the Serjeant, and follows.
Both. O brave noble captain! huzza! A brave captain, ‘faith!
Cost. Now, Tummas, Carolus is Latin for a beating. This is the bravest captain I ever saw—Wounds! I’ve a month’s mind to go with him.
Enter Plume.
Plume. A dog, to abuse two such honest fellows as you.—Lookye, gentlemen, I love a pretty fellow; I come among you as an officer to list soldiers, not as a kidnapper to steal slaves.
Cost. Mind that, Tummas.
Plume. I desire no man to go with me but as I went myself; I went a volunteer, as you or you may do; for a little time carried a musket, and now I command a company.
Tho. Mind that, Costar. A sweet gentleman!
Plume. Tis true, gentlemen, I might take an advantage of you; the king’s money was in your pockets—my serjeant was ready to take his oath you were listed; but I scorn to do a base thing; you are both of you at your liberty.
Cost. Thank you, noble captain——Icod! I can’t find in my heart to leave him, he talks so finely.
Tho. Ay, Costar, would he always hold in this mind.
Plume. Come, my lads, one thing more I’ll tell you: you’re both young tight fellows, and the army is the place to make you men for ever: every man has his lot, and you have yours: what think you of a purse of French gold out of a monsieur’s pocket, after you have dashed out his brains with the but end of your firelock, eh?
Cost. Wauns! I’ll have it. Captain—give me a shilling; I’ll follow you to the end of the world.
Tho. Nay, dear Costar! do’na: be advis’d.
Plume. Here, my hero, here are two guineas for thee, as earnest of what I’ll do farther for thee.
Tho. Do’na take it; do’na, dear Costar.
[Cries, and pulls back his Arm.
Cost. I wull—I wull—Waunds! my mind gives me that I shall be a captain myself—I take your money, sir, and now I am a gentleman.
Plume. Give me thy hand; and now you and I will travel the world o’er, and command it wherever we tread.—Bring your friend with you, if you can. [Aside.
Cost. Well, Tummas, must we part?
Tho. No, Costar, I cannot leave thee.—Come, captain, I’ll e’en go along too; and if you have two honester simpler lads in your company than we two have been, I’ll say no more.
Plume. Here, my lad. [Gives him Money.] Now, your name?
Tho. Tummas Appletree.
Plume. And yours?
Cost. Costar Pearmain.
Plume. Well said, Costar! Born where?
Tho. Both in Herefordshire.
Plume. Very well. Courage, my lads. Now we’ll
| Sings. | Over the hills, and far away. |
| Courage, boys, it’s one to ten | |
| But we return all gentlemen; | |
| While conq’ring colours we display, | |
| Over the hills, and far away. |
Kite, take care of them.
Enter Kite.
Kite. An’t you a couple of pretty fellows, now! Here, you have complained to the captain; I am to be turned out, and one of you will be serjeant. Which of you is to have my halberd?
Both Rec. I.
Kite. So you shall—in your guts.—March, you sons of whores!
[Beats them off.