The London prodigall As it was plaide by the Kings Maiesties seruants. By VVilliam Shakespeare,

THE LONDON Prodigall. Enter old Flowerdale and his brother. Fath. Brother from Venice, being thus disguisde, I come to proue the humours of my sonne: How hath he borne himselfe since my departure, I leauing you his patrone and his guide? Vnck. I faith brother so, as you will grieue to heare, And I almost ashamde to report it. Fath. Why how ist brother? what doth he spend Beyond the allowance I left him? Vnck.

How! beyond that? and farre more: why, your exibition is nothing, hee hath spent that, and since hath borrowed, protested with oathes, alledged kindred to wring mony from me, by the loue I bore his father, by the fortunes might • all vpon himself, to furnish his wants▪ that done, I haue had since, his bond, his friend and friends bond, altho I knowe that hee spends is yours; yet it grieues me to see the vnbridled wildnes that raines ouer him.

Fath

Brother, what is the manner of his life? howe is the name of his offences? if they do not rellish altogether of damdation, his youth may p • iuiledge his wantonnesse: I my selfe ranne an vnbrideled course till thirtie, nay almost till fortie, well, you see how I am: for vice once looked into with the eies of discretion, and well balanced with the waites of reason, the course past, seemes so abhominable, that the Landlord of himselfe, which is the heart of his body, will rather intombe himselfe in the earth, or seek a new Tenāt to remaine in him, which once settled, how much better are they that in their youth haue knowne all these vices, and left it, then those that knewe little, and in their age runnes into it? Beleeue me brother, they that dye most vertuous, hath in their youth, liued most vicious, and none knowes the danger of the fire, more then he that falles into i • : But say, how is the course of his life? lets heare his particulars.

Vnck. Why Ile tell you brother, hee is a continual swearer, And a breaker of his oathes, which is bad. Unck.

I grant indeed to sweare is bad, but not in keeping those oathes is better: for who will set by a bad thing?

Nay by my faith, I hold this rather a vertue then a vice, Well, I pray proceede. Vnck.

He is a mighty brawler, and comes commonly by the worst.

Fath.

By my faith this is none of the worst neither, for if he Brawle and be beaten for it, it wil in time make him shunne it: For what brings man or child, more to vertue, then correctiō? What raignes ouer him else?

Unck.

He is a great drinker, and one that will forget himselfe.

Fath. O best of all, vice should be forgotten: let him drink on, So he drinke not churches. Nay and this be the worst, I hold it rather a happines in him, Then any iniquity. Hath he any more attendants? Unck.

Brother, he is one that will borrow of any man.

Fath. Why you see so doth the sea, it borrowes of all the smal Currents in the world, to encrease himselfe. Vnck.

I, but the sea paies it againe, and so will neuer your son.

Fath.

No more would the sea neither, if it were as dry as my sonne.

Vnck. Then brother, I see you rather like these vices in your sonne, Then any way condemne them. Fath. Nay mistake me not brother, for tho I slur them ouer now, As things slight and nothing, his crimes being in the budde, It would gall my heart, they should euer raigne in him. Flow.

Ho! whoes within ho?

Flowerdale knockes within. Unck.

That's your sonne, hee is come to borrowe more money.

Fath. For Godsake giue it out I am dead, see how hele take it, Say I haue brought you newes from his father. I haue here drawne a formall will, as it were from my selfe, Which Ile deliuer him. Vnck.

Goetoo brother, no more: I will.

Flow.

Vnckle, where are you Vnckle? within,

Vnck.

Let my cousen in there.

Fath.

I am a Sayler come from Uenice, and my name is Christopher.

Enter Flowerdale. Flow.

By the Lord, in truth Vnckle.

Vnck.

In truth would a seru'd cousen, without the Lord.

Flow. By your leaue Vnckle, the Lord, is the Lord of truth. A couple of rascalles at the gate, set vpon me for my purse. Unck.

You neuer come, but you bring a brawle in your mouth.

Flow.

By my truth Vnckle, you must needes lend me tenne pound.

Vnck.

Giue my cousen some small beere here.

Flow. Nay looke you, you turne it to a iest now, by this light, I should ryde to Croydon fayre, to meete syr Lancelot Spurrock, I should haue his daughter Luce, and for scuruy Tenne pound, a man shal loose nine hundred three-score and odde pounds, and a daily friend beside, by this hande Vnckle tis true. Vnck.

Why, any thing is true for ought I know.

Flow.

To see now: why you shall haue my bond Vnckle, or Tom Whites, Iames Brocks: or Nick Halls, as good rapyer and dagger men, as any be in England, lets be dambn'd if wee doe not pay you, the worst of vs all will not damne our selues for ten ponnd. A poxe often pound.

Unck.

Cousen, this is not the first time I haue beleeu'd you.

Flow. Why trust me now, you know not what may fall: If one thing were but true, I would not greatly care, I should not neede ten pound, but when a man cannot be beleeued, ther's it. Vnck.

Why what is it cousen?

Flow.

Mary this Vnckle, can you tell me if the Katernhue be come home or no?

Vnck.

I mary ist.

Flow. By God I thanke you for that newes. What ist in the poole can you tell? Vnck.

It is; what of that?

Flow. What? why then I haue sixe peeces of vellet sent me Ile giue you a peece Vnckle▪ for thus said the letter, A peece of Ashcolour, a three pilde black, a colourde deroy, A crimson, a sad greene, and a purple: yes yfaith. Vnck.

From whom should you receiue this?

Flow.

From who? why from my father? with commendations to you Vnckle, and thus he writes: I know saith he, thou hast much troubled thy kinde Vnckle, whom God-willing at my returne I will see amply satisfied: Amply, I remember was the very word; so God helpe me.

Unck.

Haue you the letter here?

Flow.

Y • s I haue the letter here, here is the letter: no, yes, no let me see, what breechs wore I a Satterday: let me see, a Tuesday, my Calymanka, a Wednesday, my peach colour Sattin, a Thursday my Vellure, a Friday my Callymanka againe, a Satterday, let me see a Satterday, for in those breeches I wore a Satterday is the letter: O my ryding breeches Anckle, those that you thought had bene vellet, In those very breeches is the letter.

Vnck.

When should it be date • ?

Flow.

Mary Didicimo tersios septembris, no no, trydisimo tersios Octobris, I Octobris so it is.

Vnck.

Dicditimo tersios Octobris: and here receiue I a letter that your father dyed in Iune: how say you Kester?

Fath.

Yes truly syr, your father is dead, these hands of mine ho • pe to winde him.

Flow.

Dead?

Fath.

I syr dead.

Flow.

Sblood, how should my father come dead?

Fath. Yfaith syr according to the old Prouerbe, The childe was borne: and cryed, became man, After fell sicke, and dyed. Vnck.

Nay cousen doe not take it so heauily.

Flow.

Nay I cannon weepe you extempory, mary some two or three dayes hence, I shall weep without any stintance. But I hope he dyed in good memory.

Fath. Very well syr, and set downe euery thing in good order, And the Katherine and Hue you talkt of, I came ouer in: And I saw all the billes of lading, and the vellet That you talkt of, there is no such aboord. Flow.

By God I assure you, then there is knauery abroad.

Fath. Ile be sworne of that: ther's knauery abroad, Altho there were neuer a peece of vellet in V • nice. Flow.

I hope he dyed in good estate.

Fath. To the report of the world he did, and made his will, Of which I am an vnworthy bearer. Flow.

His will, haue you his will?

Fath. Yes syr, and in the presence of your Vnckle, I was willed to deliuer it. Vnck.

I hope cousen, now God hath blessed you with wealth, you will not be vnmindfull of me.

Flow.

Ile doe reason Vnckle, yet yfaith I take the deniall of this tenne pound very hardly.

Vnck.

Nay I donyde you not.

Flow.

By God you denide me directly.

Vnck.

Ile be iudge by this good-fellowe.

Fath.

Not directly syr.

Flow.

Why he said he would lend me none, and that had wont to be a direct denyall, if the old phrase holde: Well Vnckle, come weele fall to the Legasies, In the name of God, Amen.

Item, I bequeath to my brother Flowerdale, three hundred pounds, to pay such triuall debts as I owe in London.

Item, to my sonne Ma • Flowerdale, I bequeath two bayle of false dyce, Uidelliced, high men, and loe men, fullomes, stop cater traies, and other bones of function.

Flow.

Sblood what doth he meane by this?

Vnck.

Proceede cousen.

Flow. These precepts I leaue him, let him borrow of his oath, For of his word no body will trust him. Let him by no meanes marry an honest woman, For the other will keepe her selfe. Let him steale as much as he can, that a guilty conscience May bring him to his destinate repentance,

I thinke he meanes hanging. And this were his last will and Testament, the Diuell stood laughing at his beddes feete while he made it. Sblood, what doth hee thinke to fop of his posteritie with Paradoxes.

Fath.

This he made syr with his owne hands.

Flow.

I, well, nay come good Vnckle, let me haue this ten pound, Imagine you haue lost it, or robd of it, or misreckond your selfe so much: any way to make it come easily off, good Vnckle.

Vnck.

Not a penny.

Fath.

Yfaith lend it him syr; I my selfe haue an estate in the Citie worth twenty pound, all that ile ingage for him, he saith it concernes him in a marriage.

Flow.

I marry doth it, this is a fellow of some sense, this: Come good Vnckle.

Vnck

Will you giue your word for it Kes • er?

Fath.

I will syr, willingly.

Vnck.

Well cousen, come to me some hower hence, you shall haue it readie.

Flow.

Shall I not faile?

Unck.

You shall not, come or send.

Flow.

Nay ile come my selfe.

Fath.

By my troath, would I were your worships man.

Flow.

What wouldst thou serue?

Fath.

Very willingly syr.

Flow.

Why ile tell thee what thou shalt doe, thou saith thou hast twentie pound, goe into Burchin Lane, put thy selfe into cloathes, thou shalt ride with me to Croyden fayre.

Fath.

I thanke you syr, I will attend you.

Flow.

Well Vnckle, you will not faile me an hower hence?

Vnck.

I will not cousen.

Flow.

Whats thy name Kester?

Fath.

I syr.

Flow.

Well, prouide thy selfe: Vnckle farewelll till anon.

Exit Flowerdale. Vnck.

Brother, how doe you like your sonne?

Fath. Yfaith brother, like a mad vnbridled colt, Or as a Hawke, that neuer stoop'd to lure: The one must be tamde with an yron byt, The other must be watched, or still she is wilde, Such is my sonne, awhile let him be so: For counsell still is follies deadly foe. Ile serue his youth, for youth must haue his course, For being restrainde, it makes him ten times worse: His pride, his ryot, all that may be named, Time may recall, and all his madnesse tamed. Enter syr Launcelot, Maister Weathercocke, Daffidill, Artichoake, Luce, and Francke. Lance. Syrrha Artichoake, get you home before, And as you proued your selfe a calfe in bying, Driue home your fellow calfes that you haue bought. Arti.

Yes forsooth, shall not my fellow Daffidill goe along with me.

Lance.

No syr, no, I must haue one to waite on me.

Arty. Daffidill, farewell good fellow Daffidill, You may see mistresse, I am set vp by the halues, In steed of waiting on you, I am sent to driue home calues. Lance. Yfaith Francke, I must turne away this Daffidill, Hees growne a very foolish sawcie fellow. Fran. Indeed law father, he was so since I had him: Before he was wise enough, for a foolish seruing-man. Wea.

But what say you to me syr Lancelot?

Lance. O, about my daughters, wel I will goe forward, Heers two of them God saue them: but the third, O shees a stranger in her course of life, Shee hath refused you Maister Weathercocke. Wea. I by the Rood syr Lancelot that she hath, But had she tride me, she should a found a man of me indeed. Lance. Nay be not angry syr, at her deniall, Shee hath refus'de seauen of the worshipfulst and worthyest hous-keepers this day in Kent: Indeed she will not marry I suppose. Wea.

The more foole she.

Lance.

What is it folly to loue Charitie?

Wea. No mistake me not syr 〈◊〉 , But tis an old prouerbe, and you know it well, That women dying maides, lead apes in hell. Lance.

Thats a foolish prouerbe, and a false.

Wea. By the masse I thinke it be, and therefore let it goe: But who shall marry with mistresse Frances? Fran.

By my troath they are talking of marrying me sister.

Luce. Peace, let them talke: Fooles may haue leaue to prattle as they walke. Daff. Sentesses still sweet mistresse, You haue a wit, and it were your Alliblaster. Luce.

Y • aith and thy tongue trips trench-more.

Lance. No of my knight-hood, not a shuter yet: Alas God helpe her sillie girle, a foole, a verie foole: But thers the other black-browes a shroad girle, Shee hath wit at will, and shuters two or three: Syr Arthur Greene-sheld one, a gallant knight, A valiant Souldier, but his power but poore. Then thers yong 〈◊〉 , the Deuen-shyre lad, A wary fellow, marry full of wit, And rich by the rood, but thers a third all aire, Light as a feather, changing as the wind: young Flowerdal • . Wea. O hee syr, hees a desperate dick indeed. Barre him your house. Lance.

Fye not so, hees of good parentage.

Wea.

By my faie and so he is, and a proper man.

Lance.

I proper enough, had he good qualities.

Wea. I marrie, thers the point 〈◊〉〈◊〉 : For thers an old saying, Be he rich, or be he poore, 〈◊〉 hye, or be he lowe: Be he borne in barne or hall, Tis maners makes the man and all. 〈◊〉 .

You are in the right maister Weatherc • ck.

Enter Mounsier Ciuet. 〈◊〉 .

Soule, I thinke I am sure crossed,

Or wi • ht with an owle, I haue hanted them: Inne after Inne, booth, after booth, yet cannot finde them, ha yonder they are, thats she, I hope to God 〈◊〉 shee, nay I know tis shee now, for • he treades her shooe a little awry.

Lance.

Where is this • inne? we are past it Daffidill.

Daffidill.

The good signe is heere syr, but the back gate is before.

Ciuet.

Saue you syr, I pray may I borrow a peece of a word with you?

Daff.

No peeces syr.

Ciu. Why then the whole. I pray syr, what may yonder gentlewomen be? Daff.

They may be Ladies syr, if the destinies and mortalitie worke.

Ciu.

Whats her name syr.

Daff.

Mistresse Frances Spurcocke, syr Laucelots-Spurcockes daughter.

Ciu.

Is she a maid syr?

Daff. You may aske Pluto, and dame Proserpine that: I would be loth to be ridelled syr. Ciu.

Is she married I meane syr?

Daff.

The Fates knowes not yet what shoc-maker shall make her wedding shooes.

Ciu.

I pray where Inne you syr? I would be very glad to bestowe the wine of that gentlewoman.

Daff.

At the George syr.

Ciu.

God saue you syr.

Daff.

I pray your name syr?

Ciu.

My name is maister Ciu • t syr.

Daff.

A sweet name, God be with you good maister Ciuet.

Exit Ciuet. Lance. A, haue w • spide you stout S. George? For all your dragon, you had best selles good wine: That needs no 〈◊〉 -bush, well, w • le not sit by it, As you do on your horse, this roome shall seru • : Drawer, let me haue sacke for vs old men: For these girles and knaues small wines are best, A pinte of sacke, no more. Draw.

A quart of sack in the three Tunnes,

Lance. A pinte, draw but a pinte 〈◊〉 , Call for wine to make your selues drinke. Fran.

And a cup of small beere, and a cake good 〈◊〉 .

Enter yong Flowerdale. Flow. How now, fye, sit in the open roome, now good syr Lancelot, & my kind friend worshipfull Ma • ster Weathercock, What at your pinte, a quart for shame. Lance.

Nay Royster by your leaue we will away.

Flow. Come, giues some Musicke, weele goe dance, Begone 〈◊〉 Lancelot, what, and fayre day too? Lance.

Twere fowly done, to dance within the fayre.

Flow. Nay if you say so, fairest of all faires, Then ile not dance, a poxe vpon my tayler, He hath spoyled me a peach colour 〈◊〉 shute,

Cut vpon cloath of siluer, but if euer the Rascall serue 〈◊〉 such an other tricke, Ile giue him leaue yfaith to put me in the calender of fooles: and you, and you, syr 〈◊〉 ; and Maister Weathercock, my gold-smyth too on tother side, I bespoke thee Luce, a carkenet of gold, and thought thou shouldst a had it for a fayring, and the Rogue puts me in 〈◊〉 for Oryant Pearle: but thou shalt haue it by sunday night wench.

Enter the Draw • r. Draw.

Syr, here is one hath sent you a po • le of rennish wine, brewed with Rose-water.

Flow.

To me?

Draw.

No syr to the knight; and desires his more acquaintance.

Lance.

To me? whats he that proues so kind?

Daff.

I haue a tricke to know his name syr,

He hath a moneths mind here to mistresse Frances, his name 〈◊〉 maister Ciuet.

Lance.

Ca • him in 〈◊〉 .

Flow.

O I know him syr, he is a foole,

But reasonable rich, his father was one of these lease-mongers, these corn • -monger, these mony-mongers, but he neuer had the wit to be a whore-monget.

Enter 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Ci • et. Lance.

I promise you syr, you are at too much charge.

Cyuet.

The charge is small charge syr,

I thanke God my father left me wherewithall, if it please you syr, I haue a great mind to this gentlewoman here in the way of marriage.

Lance.

I thanke you syr: please you come to L • wsome to my poore house, you shall be kindly welcome: I knewe your father, he was a wary husband: to paie here Drawer.

Draw.

All is paid syr: this gentleman hath paid all.

Lance. Yfaith you do vs wrong, But we shall liue to make amends 〈◊〉 long: Maister Flowerdale, is that your man? Flow.

Yes faith, a good old knaue.

Lance. Nay then I thinke you will turne wise, Now you take such a seruant: Come, youle ride with vs to Lewsome, lets away, Tis scarce two howres to the end of day. Exit Omnes. Enter syr Arthur Green-shood, Olyuer, Lieutennant and Souldiers. Aur. 〈◊〉 , leade your Souldiers to the ships, There 〈◊〉 them haue their coates, at their arriuall They shall haue pay: farewell, looke to your charge. Sol.

I, we are now sent away, and cannot so much as speake with our friends.

Oly.

No man what ere you vsed a zutch a fashion, thicke you cannot take your leaue of your vreens.

Aur.

Fellow no more, Lieuftenant lead them off.

Sol. Well, if I haue not my pay and my cloathes, Ile venture a running away tho I hang fort. Aur.

Away surrha, charme your tongue.

Exit Souldiers, Oly.

Bin and you a presser syr?

Aur.

I am a commander syr vnder the King.

Oly. Sfoot man, and you bee nere zutch a commander Shud a spoke with my vreens before I chid agone, so shud. Aur.

Gontent your selfe man, my authority will stretch to presse so good a man as you.

Oly.

Presse me? I deuye, presse scoundrells, and thy messels: Presse me, chee scornes thee yfaith: For seest thee, heres a worship full knight knowes, cha • not to be pressed by thee.

Enter syr Lancelet Weather cocke, yong Flowerdale, old Flowerdale, Luce, Franck. Lance. Syr Arthur, welcome to Lewsome, welcome by my troath, Whats the matter man, why are you vext? Oly.

Why man he would presse me.

Lance.

O Fie syr Arthur, presse him? he is man of reckoning.

Wea. I that he is syr Arthur, he hath the nobles, The golden ruddockes he. Ar. The fitter for the warres: and were he not in fauour With your worships, he should see, That I haue power to presse so good as he. Oly.

Chill stand to the triall, so chill.

Flow. I marry shall he, presse-cloath and karsie, White pot and drowsen broath: tut, tut, he cannot. Oly.

Well syr, tho you see vlouten cloath and karsie, chee a zeene zutch a karsie coate weare out the towne sick a zilken Iacket, as thick a one you weare.

Flow.

Well sed vlitan vlattan.

Oly.

A and well sed cocknell, and boe-bell too: what doest thincke cham a vearde of thy zilken coate, no • er vere thee.

Lance.

Nay come no more, be all louers and friends.

VVea.

I tis best so, good maister Olyuer.

Flow.

Is your name maister Oliuer I pray yo • ?

Oly.

What tit and be tit, and grieue you.

Flow.

No bur I de gladly know if a man might not haue a foolish plot out of maister Oliuer to worke vpon.

Oly.

Worke thy plots vpon me, stand a side, worke thy foolish plots vpon me, chil so vse the • , thou weart neuer so vsed since thy dame bound thy head, worke vpon me?

Flow.

Let him come, let him come.

Oly.

Zyrrha, zyrrha, if it were not vor shame, chee would a giuen thee zutch a whister poope vnder the eare, chee would a made thee a vanged an other at my feete: stand a side let me loose, cham all of a vlaming fire-brand; Stand aside.

Flow.

Well I forbeare you for your friends sake.

Oly.

Avig for all my vreens, doest thou tell me of my vreens?

Lance.

No more good maister Oliuer, no more syr Arthur, And maiden, here in the sight of all your shuters, euery man of worth, Ile tell you whom I fainest would preferre to the hard bargine of your marriage bed: shall I be plaine among you gentlemen?

Arty.

I syr tis best.

Lance.

Then sy • , first to you, I doe confesse you a most gallant knight, a worthy souldier, and an honest man: but honestie maintaines a french-hood, goes very seldome in a chain of gold, keepes a small traine of seruants: hath fewe friendes: and for this wilde oates here, young Flowerdale, I will not iudge, God can worke myracles, but hee were better make a hundred new, then thee a thrifty and an honest one.

Wea.

Beleeue me he hath byt you there, he hath touched you to the quicke, that hath he.

Flow.

Woodcocke a my side, why maister Weathercocke you know I am honest, howsoeuer triffles.

Wea. Now by my troath, I knowe no otherwise, O your old mother was a dame indeed: Heauen hath her soule, and my wiues too I trust: And your good father, honest gentleman, He is gone a Iourney as I heare, far hence. Flow. I God be praised, he is far enough, He is gone a pylgrimage to Paradice. And left me to cut a caper against care, Luce looke on me that am as light as ayre. Luce. Y faith I like not shadowes, bubbles, broath, I hate a light a loue, as I hate death. Lance. Gyrle hold thee there: looke on this Deuen-shyre lad: Fat, faire, and louely, both in purse and person. Oly.

Well syr, cham as the Lord hath made me, You know me well yuine, cha haue three-score packe a karsay, and blackem hal, and chiefe credit beside, and my fortunes may be so good as an others, zoe it may.

Lance.

Tis you I loue, whatsoeuer others say?

Ar.

Thanks fayrest.

Flow.

What wouldst thou haue me quarrell with him▪

Fath.

Doe but say he shall heare from you.

Lance.

Yet gentleman, howsoeuer I preferre this Deuenshyre shuter,

Ile enforce no loue, my daughter shall haue liberty to choose whom she likes best, in your loue shute proceed:

Not all of you, but onely one must speed.

Wea.

You haue sed well: indeed right well.

Enter Artychocak. Arty.

Mistresse heeres one would speake with you, my fellow Daffidill hath him in the sellor already, he knowes him, he met him at Croyden fayre.

Lance.

O I remember a little man.

Arty.

I a very little man.

Lance.

And yet a proper man.

Arty.

A very proper, very little man.

Lance.

His name is Mounsier Ciuet.

Arty.

The same syr.

Lance. Come Gentlemen if other shuters come, My foolish daughter will be fitted too: But Delia my saint, no man dare moue. Exit at all but young Flowerdale and Olyuer, and old Flowerdale. Flow.

Harke you syr, a word.

Oly.

What ha an you to say to me now?

Flow.

Ye shall heare from me, and that very shortly.

Oly.

Is that all, vare thee well, chee vere thee not, a vig.

Exit Olyuer. Flow.

What if should come more? I am fairely drest.

Fath. I doe not meane that you shall meete with him, But presently weele goe and draw a will; Where weele set downe land, that we neuer sawe, And we will haue it of so large a summe, Syr Lancelot shall intreat you take his daughter: This being formed, giue it maister Weathercocke, And make syr Lancelots daughter heire of all: And make him sweare, neuer to show the will To any one, vntil that you be dead, This done, the foolish changing Weathercocke, Will straight discourse vnto syr Lancelot, The forme and tenor of your Testament, Nor stand to pause of it, be rulde by mee: What will inshue, that shall you quickly see. Flow. Come lets about it: if that a will sweet Kyt, Can get the wench, I shall renowne thy wit. Exit omnes, Enter Daffidill. Daff. Mistresse still froward? No kind lookes vnto your Daffidill, now by the Gods. Luce.

Away you foolish knaue, let my hand goe.

Daff. There is your hand, but this shall goe with me: My heart is thine, this is my true loues fee. Luce. Ile haue your coate stript ore your eares for this, You sawcie rascall. Enter Lancelot and Weathercocke. Lance.

How now maid, what is the newes with you?

Luce.

Your man is something sawcie.

Exit Luce. Lance.

Goe too syrrha, Ile talke with you anon.

Daff. Syr I am a man to be talked withall, I am no horse I tro: I Know my strength, then no more then so. VVea.

A by the matkins, good syr Lancelot, I saw him the other day hold vp the bucklers, like an Hercules, I faith God a marcie lad, I like thee well.

Lance. I, I like him well, go syrrha fetch me a cup of wine, Th •• ere I part with maister VVeathercocke, We may drinke downe our farewell in French wine. VVea. I thanke you syr, I thanke you friendly knight, Ile come and visit you, by the mouse-foot I will: In the meane time, take heed of cutting Flowerdale, He is a desperate dyck I warrant you. Lance. He is, he is: fill 〈◊〉 , fill me some wine, ha, what weares he on his arme? My daughter Laces bracelet, I • is the same: Ha to you maister Weathercocke. VVea.

I thanke you syr▪ Here Daffidill, an honest fellow and a tall thou art: well, ile take my leaue good knight, and hope to haue you and all your daughters at my poore house, in good sooth I must.

Lance.

Thankes maister VVeathercocke, I shall be bold to trouble you be sure.

VVea.

And welcome, hartily farewell.

(Exit VVeathercocke. Lance.

Syrrha I saw my daughters wrong, and withall her bracelet on your arme, off with it: and with it my liuery too, Haue I care to see my daughter matched with men of worship, and are you growne so bold? Goe syrrha from my house, or ile whip you hence.

Daff. Ile not be whipped syr, theres your liuery. (Exit Daffidill. This is a seruiegmans reward, what care I, I haue meanes to trust too: I scorne seruice I. Lance. I a lusty knaue, but I must let him goe, Our seruants must be taught, what they should know. Enter syr Arthur and Luce. Luce.

Syr, as I am a maid, I doe affect you aboue any shuter that I haue, altho that souldiers scarce knowes how to loue.

Ar. I am a souldier, and a gentleman, Knowes what belonges to war, what to a lady: What man offends me, that my sword shall right: What woman loues me, I am her faithfull knight. Luce.

I neither doubt your vallour, nor your loue, but there be some that bares a souldiers forme, that sweares by him they neuer thinke vpon, goes swaggering vp and downe from house to house, crying God payes: and.

Ar. I faith Lady ile discry you such a man, Of them there be many which you haue spoke off, That beare the name and shape of souldiers, Yet God knowes very seldome saw the war: That haunt your Tauerns, and your ordinaries, Your ale-houses sometimes, for all a-like To vphold the brutish humour of their mindes, Being marked downe, for the bondmen of dispare: Their mirth begins in wine, but endes in blood, Their drinke is cleare, but their conceits are mud. Luce.

Yet these are great gentlemen souldiers.

Ar. No they are wretched slaues, Whose desperate liues doth bring them timelesse graues. Luce. Both for your selfe, and for your forme of life, If I may choose, ile be a souldiers wife. Enter syr Lancelot and Oliuer. Oli.

And tyt trust to it so then.

Lance. Ashure your selfe, You shall be married with all speed we may: One day shall serue for Frances and for Luce. Oli.

Why che wood vaine know the time, for prouiding wedding rayments.

Lance.

Why no more but this, first get your ashurance made, touching my daughters ioynter, that dispatched, we wil in two daies make prouision.

Oli.

Why man chil haue the writings made by tomorrow.

Lance.

To morrow be it then, lets meet at the kings head in fishstreet.

Oli. No fie man no, lets meet at the Rose at Temple-bar, That will be nearer your counsellor and mine. Lance. At the Rose, be it then the hower nine, He that comes last, forfeits a pinte of wine. Oli.

A pinte is no paymēt, let it be a whole quart, or nothing.

Enter Artichoake. Arty.

Maister, here is a man would speake with maister O • , he comes from young maister Flowerdale.

〈◊〉 .

Why chill speake with him, chill speake with him.

Lance. Nay sonne Oliuer, ile shurely see, What young Flowerdale hath sent to you. I pray God it be no quarrell. 〈◊〉 .

Why man if he quarrell with me, chill giue him his hands full.

Fath.

God saue you good syr Lancelot.

Lance.

Welcome honest friend.

(Enter old Flowerdale. Fath. To you and yours my maister wisheth health, But vnto you syr this, and this he sendes: There is the length syr of his rapier, And in that paper shall you know his mind. Oly.

Here chill meet him my vreend, chill meet him.

Lance.

Meet him, you shall not meet the Ruffin fye.

Oly. And I doe not meete him, chill giue you leaue to call M • cut, where ist syrrha? where ist? where isl? Fath. The letter showes both the time and place, And if you be a man, then keepe your word. Lance.

Syr he shal not keepe his word, he shal not meet.

Fath. Why let him choose, heele be the better knowne For a base rascall, and reputed so. Oly.

Zyrrha, zyrrha: and tweare not an old fellow, and sent after an arrant, 〈◊〉 giue thee something, but chud be no mony: But hold thee, for I see thou art somewhat testorne, holde thee, theres vortie shillings, bring thy maister a 〈◊〉 , chil giue thee vortie more, looke thou bring him, chil mall him tell him, chill mar his dauncing tressels, chil vse him, he was nere so vsed since his dam bound his head, chill make him for capyring any more chy vor thee.

Fath. You seeme a man, stout and resolute, And I will so report, what ere befall. Lance. And fall out ill, ashurethy maister this, Ile make him flye the land, or vse him worse. Fath. My maister syr, deserues not this of you, And that youle shortly finde. Lance. Thy maister is an vnthrift, you a knaue, And ile attache you first, next clap him vp: Or haue him bound vnto his good behauiour. Oly.

I wood you were a sprite if you do him any harme for this: And you doe, 〈◊〉 nere see you, nor any of yours, while chill haue eyes open: what doe you thinke, chil be abaffelled vp and downe the towne for a messell, and a scoundrel, no chy bor you: zyrrha chil come, zay no more, chil come tell him.

Fath. Well sir, my Maister deserues not this of you, And that youle shortly finde. Exit. Oly.

No matter, he's an vnthrift, I defie him.

Lanc.

No, gentle sonne, let me know the plac • .

Oly.

Now chy vore you.

Lanc.

Let me see the note.

Oly.

Nay, chill watch you for zucth a tricke.

But if che meet him zoe, if not, zoe: chill make him knowe me, or chill know why I shall not, chill vare the worse.

Lanc. What will you then neglect my daughters loue? Venture your state and hers, for a loose brawle? Oly.

Why man, chill not kill him, marry chill veze him too, and againe; and zoe God be with you vather.

What man, we shall met to morrow.

Exit. Lanc. Who would a thought he had bin so desperate. Come forth my honest seruant Artichoake. Enter Artic. Arti.

Now, what's the matter? some brawle toward, I warrant you.

Lanc.

Goe get me thy sword bright scowred, thy buckler mended, O for that knaue, that Vyllaine Daffidill would haue done good seruice. But to thee.

Art.

I, this is the trickes of all you gentlemen, when you stand in neede of a good fellow. O for that Daffidill, O where is he? but if you be angry, and it bee but for the • agging of a strawe, then out a doores with the knaue, turne the coate ouer his eares. This is the humour of you all.

Lanc.

O for that knaue, that lustie Daffidill.

Art.

Why there tis now: our yeares wages and our vailes will scarce pay for broken swords and bucklers that wee vse in our quarrels. But Ile not fight if 〈◊〉 bee a tother side, that's flat.

Lanc.

Tis no such matter man, get weapons ready, and bee at London ere the breake of day: watch neere the lodging of the Deuon-shire Youth, but be vnseen: and as he goes out, as he will goe out, and that very earely without doubt.

Art. What would you haue me draw vpon him, As he goes in the streete? Lanc. Not for a world man: into the fields. For to the field he goes, there to meet the desperat Flowerdal • , Take thou the part of Olyuer my sonne, for he shal be my son, And marry Luce: Doest vnderstand me knaue? Arty.

I syr I doe vnderstand you, but my young mistresse might be better prouided in matching with my fellowe Daffidill.

Lance. No more; Daffidill is a knaue: That Daffidill is a most notorious knaue. Exit. Enter Weathercocke.

Maister Weathercoeke you come in happy time, The desperat Flowerdale hath writ a challenge: And who thinke you must answere it? but the Deuenshyre man, my sonne Oliuer.

Wea. Mary I am sory for it good syr Lancelot, But if you will be ruled by me, weele stay the furie. Lance.

As how I pray?

Wea.

Marry ile tell you, by promising yong Flowerdale the red lipped Luce.

Lance.

Ile rather follow her vnto her graue.

Wen.

I syr Lancelot I would haue thought so too, but you and I haue bene deceiued in him, come read this will, or deed, or what you call it, I know not: Come, come, your spectacles I pray.

Lance.

Nay I thanke God, I see very well.

Wea.

Marry God blesse your eyes, mine hath bene dim almost this thirtie yeares,

Lance.

Ha what is this? what is this?

Wea.

Nay there is true loue indeede, he gaue it to me but this very morne, and bid me keepe it vnseene from any one, good youth, to see, how men may be deceiued.

Lance.

Passion of me, what a wretch am I to hate this louing youth, he hath made me, together with my Luce 〈◊〉 loues so deare, executors of all his wealth.

Wea.

All, all good man, he hath giuen you all.

Lance. Three ships now in the straits, & homeward bound, Two Lordships of two hundred pound a yeare: The one in Wales, the other in Gloster-shyre: Debts and accounts, are thirtie thousand pound, Plate, mony, Iewels, 16. thousand more, Two housen furnished w • ll in Cole-man street: Beside whatsoeuer his Vnckle leaues to him, Being of great demeanes and wealth at Peckham. Wea.

How like you this good knight? how like you this?

Lance. I haue done him wrong, but now 〈◊〉 make amends, The Deuen-shyre man shall whistle for a wife, He marrie Luce, Luce shall be Flowerdales. Wea.

Why that is friendly said, lets ride to London and pre • ent their match, by promising your daughter to that louely lad.

Lance. Weele ride to London, or it shall not need, Weele crosse to Dedfort-strand, and take a boat: Where be these knaues? what Artichoake, what Fop? Enter Artichoake. Arty.

Heere be the very knaues, but not the merry knaues.

Lance.

Here take my cloake, ile haue a walke to Dedford.

Arty.

Syr wee haue bin scouring of our swords and bucklers for your defence.

Lance.

Defence me no defence, let your swordes rust, ile haue no fighting: I, let blowes alone, bid Delia see all things be in readinesse against the wedding, weele haue two at once, and that will saue charges maister Weathercocke.

Arty.

Well we will doe 〈◊〉 syr.

Exit Omnes. Enter Ciuet, Francke, and Delia. Ciu.

By my truth this is good lucke, I thanke God for this, In good sooth I haue euen my harts desire: sister 〈◊〉 , now I may boldly call you so, for your father hath franck and freely giuen me his daughter Francke.

Fran.

I by my troth Tom, thou hast my good will too, for I thanke God I longed for a husband, and would I might neuer stir, for one his name was Tom.

Delia.

Why sister now you haue your wish.

Ciu.

You say very true sister Delia, and I prethee call me nothing but Tom and ile call thee sweetheart, and Franck: will it not doe well sister Delia?

Delia.

It will doe very well with both of you.

Fran.

But Tom, must I goe as I doe now when I am married?

Ciu. No Francke, ile haue thee goe like a Citizen In a garded gowne, and a French-hood. Fran.

By my troth that will be excellent indeed.

Delia. Brother, maintaine your wife to your estate, Apparell you your selfe like to your father: And let her goe like to your ancient mother, He sparing got his wealth, left it to you, Brother take heed of pride, some bids thrift adue. Ciu.

So as my father and my mother went, thats a iest indeed, why she went in a fringed gowne, a single ruffe, and a white cap.

And my father in a mocado coat, a paire of red satten • leeues, and a canuis backe.

Delia.

And yet his wealth was all as much as yours.

Ciu.

My estate, my estate I thank God is fortie pound a yere, in good leases and tenements, besides twenty marke a yeare at cuckoldes-hauen, and that comes to vs all by inheritance.

Delia. That may indeed, tis very fitly plyed, I know not how it comes, but so it falles out That those whose fathers haue died wonderous rich, And tooke no pleasure but to gather wealth, Thinking of little that they leaue behind: For them they hope, will be of their like minde, But falles out contrary, forty yeares sparing Is scarce three seuen yeares spending, neuer caring What will inshue, when all their coyne is gone, And all too late, then thrift is thought vpon: Ofthaue I heard, that pride and ryotkist, And then repentance cryes, for had I wist. Ciu.

You say well sister Delia, you say well: but I meane to liue within my boundes: for looke you, I haue set downe my rest thus farre, but to maintaine my wife in her frenchhood, and her coach, keepe a couple of geldings, and a brace of gray hounds, and this is all ile doe.

Delia.

And youle do this with fortie pound a yeare?

Ciu.

I, and a better penny sister.

〈◊〉 .

〈◊〉 you forget that at 〈◊〉 .

Ciu. By my troath well remembred 〈◊〉 , 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 that to buy thee 〈◊〉 . Delia. Keepe you the rest for points, alas the day, Fooles shall haue wealth, tho all the world say nay: 〈◊〉 brot • r will you in, dinner staies for vs. 〈◊〉 .

I good sister with all my heart.

Fran.

I by 〈◊〉 troath Tom, for I haue a good stomacke.

〈◊〉 . And I the like sweet Francke, no sister Doe not thinke ile goe beyond my boundes. Delia.

God grant you may not.

(Exit Omnes. Enter young 〈◊〉 and his father, with foyles in their handes. Flow.

Syrrha Kyt, tarrie thou there, I haue spied syr Lance • , and old Weathercocke comming this way, they are hard at hand, I will by no meanes 〈◊〉 spoken with all.

Fath.

Ile warrant you, goe get you in.

Enter 〈◊〉 and Weathercocke. Lance.

Now my honest friend, thou doest belong to maister Flowerdale?

Fath.

I doe syr.

Lance.

Is he within my good fellow?

Fath.

No syr he is not within.

Lance.

I prethee if he be within, let me speake with him.

Fath.

Syr to tell you true, my maister is within, but indeed would not be spoke withall: there be some tearmes that stands vpon his 〈◊〉 , therefore he will not admit any conference till he hath shooke them off.

Lance.

I 〈◊〉 tell him his verie good friend syr Lancelot Spurcocke, intreates to speake with him.

〈◊〉 .

By my troath syr, if you come to take vp the matter between • my maister and the Deuen shyre man, you doe but beguiley 〈◊〉〈◊〉 , and loose your 〈◊〉 .

〈◊〉 .

〈◊〉〈◊〉 , I haue not any such thing to him, I 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 with him about other matters.

Fath. For my maister syr hath set down his resolution, Either to 〈◊〉 his honour, or leaue his life behind him▪ 〈◊〉 .

My 〈◊〉 I doe not know any quarrell, touching Thy maister or any other person, my businesse is of a different nature to him, and I prethee so tell him.

Fath. For howsoeuer the Deuenshireman is, my maisters Mind is bloody: thats a round O. And therefore syr, intreatie is 〈◊〉 : Lance.

I haue no such thing to him, I tell thee once againe.

Fath.

I will then so signifie to him.

Exit Father. Lance. A syrrha, I see this mat • er is hotly carried, But ile labour to disswade him fr • m it, Enter Flowerdale. Good morrow maister. Flowerdale. Flow Good morrow good syr Lancelot, good morrowe maister Weathercocke. By my troath gentlemen, I haue bene a reading ouer Nick Matchiuill, I find him Good to be known, not to be followed: A pestilent humane fellow, I haue made Certaine anatations of him such as they be: And how ist syr Lancelot? ha? how 〈◊〉 ? A mad world, men cannot liue quiet in it. Lance. Maister Flowerdale, I doe vnderstand there is some iarre Betweene the Deuen-shyre man and you. Fath.

They syr? • hey are good friends as can be.

Flow.

Who maister Oliuer and I? as good friends as can be.

Lance. It is a kind of safetie in you to denie it, and a generous Silence, which too few are inducd withall: But syr, such A thing I heare, and I could wish it otherwise. Flow. No such thing syr Lancelot, a my reputation, As I am an honest man. Lance. Now I doe beleeue you then, if you doe Ingage your reputation there is none. Flow. Nay I doe not ingage my reputation there is not, You shall not bind me to any condition of hardnesse: But if there be any thing betweene vt, then there is, If there be not, then there is not: be or be not, all is one. Lance.

I doe perceiue by this, that there is something betweene you, and I am very sorie for it.

Flow. You may be deceiued syr Lancelot, the Italian Hath a pretie saying, Questo? I haue forgot it too, 〈◊〉 out of my head, but in my translation 〈◊〉 hold thus, thou hast a friend, keepe him. Lance. Come, I doe see by this there is somewhat betweene If a foe, trip him. And before God I could wish it otherwise. Flow. Well what is betweene vs, can hardly be altered: you, Syr Lancelot, I am to ride forth to morrow, That way which I must ride, no man must denie Me the Sunne, I would not by any particular man, Be denied common and generall passage. If any one Saith Flowerdale, thou passest not this way: My answere is, I must either on or returne, But returne is not my word, I must on: If I cannot, then make my way, nature Hath done the last for me, and thers the fine. Lance. Maister Flowerdale, euery man hath o • e tongue, And two eares, nature in her building, I • a most curious worke-maister. Flow. That is as much to say, a man should heare mor • Then he should speake. Lance. You say true, and indeed I haue heard more, Then at this time I will speake, Flow.

You say well.

Lance. Slanders are more common then troathes maister Flowerdale? But proofe is the rule for both. Flow. You say true, what doe you call him Hath it there in his third canton? Lance.

I haue heard you haue bin wild: I haue beleeued it.

Flow.

Twas 〈◊〉 , twas necessarie.

Lance. But I h • ue seene somewhat of late in you, That hath confirmed in me an opinion of Goodnesse toward you. Flow. Yfaith syr, Iam shure I neuer did you harme: Some good I haue done, either to you or yours, I am shure you know not, neither is it my will you should. Lance.

I your will syr.

Flow. I my will syr • foot doe you know ought of my will? Begod and you doe syr, I am abused. Lance. Goe maister Flowerdale, what I know, I know, And know you thus much out of my knowledge, That I truly loue you. For my daughter, She yours. And if you like a marriage better

Then a brawle, all quirks of reputation set aside, goe with me presently: And where you should fight a bloodie battle, you shall be married to a louely Ladie,

Flow.

Nay but syr Lancelot?

Lance.

If you will not imbrace my offer yet ashure your self thus much, I will haue order to hinder your incounter.

Flow.

Nay but heare me syr Lancelot.

Lance.

Nay stand not you vpon imputatiue honour.

Tis meerely vnsound, vnprofitable, and idle:

Inferences your busines is to wedde my daughter therefore giue me your present word to doe it, ile goe and prouide the maid, therefore giue mee your present resolution, either now, or neuer.

Flow.

Will you so put me too it?

Luce. I afore God, either take me now, or take me neuer, Else what I thought should be our match, shal be our parting, So fare you well for euer. Flow. Stay: fall out, what may fall, my loue Is aboue all: I will come. Lance.

I expect you, and so fare you well.

Exit syr Lancelot. Fath.

Now syr, how shall we doe for wedding apparell?

Flow. By the masse thats true: now helpe Kyt, The marriage ended, weele make amendes for all. Fath. Well no more, prepare you for your bride, We will not want for cloathes, what so ere betide. Flow. And thou shalt see, when once I haue my dower, In mirth weele spend, Full many a merry hower: As for ths wench, I not regard a pin, It is her gold must bring my pleasures in. Fath. Ist possible, he hath his second liuing▪ Forsaking God, himselfe to the diuel giuing But that I knew his mother firme and chast▪ My heart would say, my hed she had disgrast: Else would I sweare, he neuer was my sonne, But her faire mind so fowle a deed did shun, 〈◊〉 Vnckle. Vnck.

How now brother, how doe you find your sonne?

Fath. O brother, heedlesse as a libertine, Euen growne a maister in the schoole of vice, One that doth nothing, but in • ent defcei • : For all the day he humours vp and downe, How he the next day 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his friend, He thinkes of nothing but the present time: For one groat 〈◊〉 down, heele pay a shilling, But then the 〈◊〉 must needes stay for it. When I was young, I had the scope of youth, Both wild, and wanton, carelesse and desperate: But such mad straines, as hee's possest withall, I thought it wonder for to dreame vpon. Vnck. I told you so, but you would not beleeue it. Fath. Well I haue found it, but one thing comforts me. Brother, to morrow hee's to be married To beautious L • ce, syr Lancelots Spurcocks daughter. Vnck.

Ist possible?

Fath. Tis true, and thus I meane to curbe him, This day brother, I will you shall arrest him: If any thing will 〈◊〉 him, it must be that, For he is ranck in mischiefe, chamed to a life, That will increase his shame, and kill his wife. Vnck. What, arrest him on his wedding day? That were vnchristian, and an vnhumane part: How many couple euen for that very day, Hath 〈◊〉 yeares sorrow afterward? 〈◊〉 him then to day, doe it to morrow, And this day mingle not his ioy with sorrow. 〈◊〉 . Brother ile ha • it done this very day, And in the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 all, as he comes from Church▪ 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 that he will take, Vpon my 〈◊〉 he will for sweare the debt: And for weele haue the summe shall not be slight, Say that he owes you 〈◊〉 three thousand pound: Good 〈◊〉〈◊〉 be done immediately: Vuck. Well, seeing you will ha • e it so▪ Brother ile doot, and straite prouide the Sheriffe. 〈◊〉 . So brother, by this meanes shall we perceiue What syr 〈◊〉 in this pinch will do: And how his wife doth stand affected too him▪ Her loue will then be tried to the vttermost: And all the rest of them▪ Brother what I will doo, Shall harme him much, and much 〈◊〉 him too. (Exi • . O • . Cham ashured thick be the place, that the scoundrell Appointed to meet me, if a come • o: 〈◊〉 a come not, zo▪ And che war avise, he should make a coystrell an vs, Ched vese him, and che vang him in hand, che would Hoyst him, and gi • e it him too▪ and againe, zo chud: Who bin a there syr Arthur, chil staie asi • e. Ar. I haue dogd the Deuen-shyre man into the field▪ For feare of any h • me that should befall him: I had an inckling of that yesternight, That Flowerdale and he should meet this morning▪ Tho of my soule, Oliuer feares him not, Yet for ide see faire play on either side, Made me to come, to see their valo • s tride▪ God morrow to maister Oli • r. Oli.

God an good morrow.

Ar.

What maister Ol • r are you angry▪

Oli.

Why an it be▪ tyt and greeuen you▪

Ar. Not me at all syr▪ but I imagin • By your being here thus armed, You stay for some that you should • ight wi • all▪ Oli.

Why and he doe, che would not de • ire you to take his part.

Ar. No by my troath, I thinke you need it not, For he you looke for, I thinke meane • not t • come. Oli.

No & che war ashure a that, ch • d 〈◊〉 him in another place.

Daff. O syr Art • r, maister 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ▪ ( 〈◊〉〈◊〉 . Your loue, and yours, and mine, sweet mistresse 〈◊〉 , This morne is • arried to young Flowerd • . Ar.

Married to Flowerd • ! tis impossible.

〈◊〉 . Married man▪ che hope thou doest but iest: To make an a volowten meryment of it. Daf.

O tis too true. Here comes his Vncle.

Enter Flowerdale, Sheriffe, Officers. Uncl • .

God morrow sir Arthur, good morrow M. Oliuer.

Oly. God and good morne M. 〈◊〉 . I pray you tellen Is your scoundrell kinsman married? Arth. M. Oliuer, call him what you will, but hee is maryed vs, To sir 〈◊〉 daughter here. Uncle.

Sir Arthur, vnto her▪

Oly. I, ha the olde vellow zarued me thick tricke, Why man he was a promise, chil chud a had her, Is a zitch a voxe, chill looke to his water che vor him. Uncle. The musicke playes, they are comming from the Church. Sheriffe doe your Office: fellowes, stand stoutly too it▪ Enter all to the Wedding. Oly.

God giue you ioy, as the old zaid Prouerbe is, and some zorrow among. You met vs well▪ did you not?

Lance.

Nay be not angry sir, the fault is in me, I haue done all the wrong, kept him from comming to the field to you▪ as I might sir, for I am a Iustice, and sworne to keepe th • peace.

Whe.

I marry is he sir, a very Iustice, and sworne to keepe the peace, you must not disturbe the weddings.

Lanc. Nay, neuer frowne nor storme sir, if you doe, Ile haue an order taken for you. Oly.

Well, Well, chill be quiet.

Whe.

M. Flowerdale, sir Lancelot, looke you who here is? M. 〈◊〉 ▪

Lance.

M. Flowerdale, welcome with all my heart.

Flow. Vncle, this is she yfaith: Maister Vnder-sheri • e A • rest me? at whose sute? draw Kit. Unc.

At my sute sir▪

Lance.

Why whats the matter M. Flowerd • ?

Unc. This is the matter sir, this vnthrift here, Hath cozened you, and hath had of me, In seuerall summes three thousand pound. Flow.

Why Vncle, Vncle.

Unc • . Cousen, cousen, you haue vnckled me▪ And if you be not staid, youle proue A cousoner vnto all that know you. 〈◊〉 . Why syr, suppose he be to you in debt T • n thousand pound, his state to me appeare, To be at least three thousand by the yeare. 〈◊〉 . O 〈◊〉 , I was too late informed of that plot, How that he went about to cousen you▪ And formde a will, and sent it to your good Friend ther • maister Weatherc • , in which was Nothing true, but brags and 〈◊〉 . Lance.

H • , hath he not such Lordships, landes, and shippes?

〈◊〉 .

Not worth a groat▪ not worth a halfepenie he.

Lance.

I pray tell vs true, be plaine young Flowerdale?

Flow. My vnckle here mad, and disposed to do me wrong, But heer's my man, an hone • fellow By the lord, and of good credit, knowes all is true. 〈◊〉 . Not I syr▪ I am too old to lye, I rather know You forgde a will, where euery line you writ, You studied where to coate your landes might lye. Wea.

And I 〈◊〉 , where be thy honest friends?

Fath.

Y faith no where syr, for he hath none at all.

〈◊〉 .

Benedicitie, we are ore wretched I beleeue.

Lance.

I am cou • end, and my hopefulst child vndone.

Flow. You are not cousend, nor is she vndone, They slaunder me, by this light they slander me; Looke you, my vnckle heres a • vsurer▪ and would vndoe me, 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 in law, do you but 〈◊〉 me, you shal do no more▪ You brother Ciuet, and maister Weathercocke, doe but Baile me, and let me haue my marriage mony Paid me, and w • ride downe, and there your owne▪ Eyes shall see, how my poore tenants 〈◊〉 wil welcome me▪ You shall but baile me, you shall doe no more, And you gre • y gnat, their baile will serue. Vnck.

I syr, ile, aske no better baile,

Lanc • . No syr you shall not take my baile, nor his, Nor my sonne 〈◊〉 , ile not be chea • I, Shreeue take your prisoner, ile not 〈◊〉 with him▪ Let's Vncle make false dice with his false bones, I will not haue to doe with him: mocked, guld, & wrongd. Come Girle, though it be late it falls out well, Thou shalt not liue with him in beggers hell. Luc. He is my husband, & hie heauen doth know, With what vnwillingnesse I went to Church, But you inforced me, you compelled me too it: The holy Church-man pronounced these words but now, I must not leaue my husband in distresse: Now I must comfort him, not goe with you. Lanc.

Comfort a cozoner? on my curse forsake him.

Lu • . This day you caused me on your curse to take him: Doe not I pray my greiued soule oppresse, God knowes my heart doth bleed at his distresse. Lanc. O M. Weathercock, I must confesse I forced her to this match, Led with opinion his false will was true. Wea.

A, he hath ouer-reached me too.

Lanc.

She might haue liued like Delia, in a happie Virgins state.

Delia.

Father be patient, sorrow comes too late.

Lance. And on her knees she begd & did entreat, If she must needes taste a sad marriage life, She craued to be sir Arthur Greene-sheilds wife. Ar.

You haue done her & me the greater wrong.

Lanc.

O take her yet.

Arthur.

Not I.

Lanc.

Or, M. Oliuer, except my child, and halfe my wealth is yours.

Oly.

No sir, chil breake no Lawes.

Luce.

Neuer feare, she will not trouble you.

Delia.

Yet sister in this passion doe not runne headlong to confusion. You may affect him, though not follow him.

Frank.

Doe sister, hang him, let him goe.

Wea.

Doe faith Mistresse Luce, leaue him.

Luc. You are three grosse • ooles, let me alone, I sweare ile liue with him in all mone. Oly. But an he haue his legges at libertie, Cham averd hee will neuer liue with you. Art.

I but hee is now in hucksters handling for running away.

Lanc. Huswife, you heare how you and I am wrongd, And if you will redresse it yet you may: But if you stand on tearmes to follow him, Neuer come neere my sight nor looke on me, Call me not father, looke not for a groat, For all thy portion I wil this day giue Vnto thy syster Frances. Fran. How say you to that Tom, I shall haue a good deale, Besides ile be a good wife: and a good wife Is a good thing, I can tell. Cin. Peace Franck, I would be sorry to see thy sister Cast away, as I am a Gentleman. Lance.

What, are you yet resolued?

Luc.

Yes, I am resolued.

Lanc.

Come then away, or now, or neuer come.

Luc. This way I turne, goe you vnto your feast, And I to weepe, that am with griefe opprest. Lanc. For euer flie my sight: come gentlem • n Lets in, ile helpe you to far better wiues then her. Delia vpon my blessing talke not too her, Bace Baggage, in such hast to beggery? Unc.

Sheriffe take your prisoner to your charge.

Flo. Vncle, be-god you haue vsd me very hardly, By my troth, vpon my wedding day. Exit all: yong Flowerdale, his father, Vncle, Sheriffe, and Officers. Luc. O M. Flowerdale, but heare me speake, Stay but a little while good M. Sheriffe, If not for him, for my sake pittie him: Good syr stop not your eares at my complaint, My voyce growes weake, for womens words are faint. Flow.

Looke you Vncle, she kneeles to you.

Vnc. Faire maid, for you, I loue you with my heart, And greeue sweet soule thy fortune is so bad, That thou shouldst match with such a gracelesse Youth, Go to thy father, thinke not vpon him, Whom hell hath marked to be the sonne of shame. Luc. Impute his wildnesse syr, vnto his youth, And thinke that now is the time he doth repent: Alas, what good or gayne can you receiue, To imprison him that nothing hath to pay? And where nought is, the king doth lose his due, O pittie him as God • hall pittie you. Vnc. Ladie, I know his humours all too well, And nothing in the world can doe him good, But miserie it selfe to chaine him with. Luc.

Say that your debts were paid, then is he free?

Vnc. I virgin, that being answered, I haue done, But to him that is all as impossible, As I to scale the hye Piramydies. Sheriffe take your prisoner, Maiden fare thee well. Luc. O goe not yet, good M. Flowerdale: Take my word for the debt, my word, my bond. Flow.

I by God Vncle, and my bond too.

Luc. Alas, I n ere ought nothing but I paid it, And I can worke, alas he can doe nothing: I haue some friends perhaps will pittie me, His chiefest friends doe seeke his miserie. All that I can, or beg, get, or receiue, Shall be for you: O doe not turne away, Me thinkes within a face so reuerent, So well experienced in this tottering world, Should haue some feeling of a maidens griefe: For my sake, his fathers, and your brothers sake, I for your soules sake that doth hope for ioy, Pittie my state: do not two soules destroy. Vnc. Faire maid stand vp, not in regard of him, But in pittie of thy haplesse choise, Idoe release him, M. Sheriffe I thanke you: And officers there is for you to drinke. Here maide take this monie, there is a 100. Angels, And for I will be sure he shall not haue it, Here Kester take it you, and vse it sparingly, But let not her haue any want at all. Dry your eyes Neece, doe not too much lament For him, whose life hath beene in royot spent: If well he vseth thee, he gets him friends, If ill▪ 〈◊〉 shamefull end on him depends. Exit Vncle. Flow. A plague goe with you for an old fornicator: Come Kyt the monie, come honest Kyt. Fath.

Nay by my faith sir, you shall pardon me.

Flow. And why sir pardon you? giue me the mony You old Rascall, or I shall make you. Luc.

Pray hold your hands, giue it him honest friend.

Fath.

If you be so content, with all my heart.

Flow. Content syr, sblood shee shall be content Whether she will or no. A rattle baby come to follow me: Goe get you gone to the greasie chuffe your father, Bring me your dowrie, or neuer looke on me. Fath.

Syr she hath forsooke her father, and all her friends for you.

Flow.

Hang thee, her friends and father altogether.

Fath.

Yet part with something to prouide her lodging.

Flo.

Yes, I meane to part with her and you, but if I part with one Angel, hang me at a poste. Ile rather throwe them at a cast at Dice, as I haue done a thousand of their fellowes.

Fath. Nay then I will be plaine degenerate boy, Thou hadst a Father would haue beene a shamed. Flow.

My father was an As • e, an old Asse.

Fath. 〈◊〉 father? proud lycentious villaine: What are you at your foyles, ile foyle with you. Luc.

Good sir for beare him.

Fath. Did not this whining woman hang on me, Ide teach thee what it was to abuse thy father: Goe hang, beg, starue, dice, game, that when all is gone Thou maist after dispaire and hang thy selfe. Luee.

O doe not curse him.

Fath. I doe not curse him, and to pray for him were vaine, It greeues me that he beares his father name. Flow. Well you old rascall, I shall meet with you, Syrrha get you gone, I will not strip the liuery Ouer your • ares, because you paid for it: But do not vse my name, syrrha doe you heare? looke you doe not Vse my name, you were best. Fath. Pay me the twentie pound then, that I lent you, Or giue me securitie, when I may haue it. Flow. Ile pay thee not a penny, and for securitie, ile giue thee none, Minckins looke you doe not follow me, looke you doe not: If you doe begger, I shall slit your nose. Lnce.

Alas what shall I doe?

Flow. Why turne whore, thats a good trade, And so perhaps ile see thee now and then. Exit Flowerdale. Luce.

Alas the day that euer I was borne.

Fath.

Sweete mistresse doe not weepe, ile sticke to you.

Luce. Alas my friend, I know not what to do, My father and my friends, they haue despised me: And I a wretched maid, thus cast away, Knowes neither where to goe, nor what to say. Fath. It grieues me at the soule, to see her teares Thus staine the crimson roses of her cheekes: Lady take comfort, doe not mourne in vaine, I haue a little liuing in this towne, The which I thinke comes to a hundred pound, All that and more shall be at your dispose, Ile straite goe helpe you to some strange disguise, And place you in a seruice in this towne: Where you shal know all, yet your selfe vnknowne: Come greeue no more, where no helpe can be had, Weepe not for him, that is more worse then bad. Luce.

I thanke you syr.

Enter syr Lancelot, maister 〈◊〉 and them. Oli. Well, cha a bin zerued many a sluttish tricke, But such a lerripoope as thick ych was nere a sarued. Lance. Son Cinet, daughter Fcances, beare with me, You see how I am pressed downe with inward griefe, About that lucklesse gyrle, your sister Luce: But tis fallen out with me, as with many families beside, They are most vnhappie, that are most belou • d. Ciu. Father tis so, tis euen fallen out so, But what remedie, set hand to your heart, and let it passe: Here is your daughter Frances and I, and weele not say, Weele bring forth as wittie children, but as prettie Children as euer she was: tho she had the pricke And praise for a prettie wench: But father, done is The mouse, youle come? Lance.

I sonne Ciuet, ile come.

Ciu.

And you maister Oliuer?

Oli. I, for che a vext out this veast, chill see if agan Make a better veast there. Ciu.

And you syr Arthur?

Ar. I syr, although my heart b • full, Ile be a partner at your wedding feast. Ciu.

And welcome all indeed, and welcome, come Francke are you readie?

Fran. Ieshue how hastie these husbands are, I pray father, Pray to God to blesse me. Lance. God blesse thee, and I doe: God make thee wise, Send you both ioy, I wish it with wet eyes. Fran. But Fath • r, shall not my sister Delia goe along with vs? She is excellent good at cookery and such things. Lance.

Yes mary shall she: Delia, make you ready.

〈◊〉 . I am ready syr, I will first goe to Greene-witch, From thence to my cousen Chesterfeelds, and so to London. Ciu. It shall suffice good sister Delia, it shall suffice, But faile vs not good sister, giue order to cookes, and others, For I would not haue my sweet Francke To soyle her fingers. Fran. No by my troath not I, a gentlewoman, and a married Gentlewoman too, to be companions to cookes, And kitchin-boyes, not I, yfaith: I scorne that. Ciu. Why I doe not meane thou shalt sweete heart, Thou seest I doe not goe about it: well farewell too: You, Gods pitty M. Weathercocke, we shal haue your cōpany too? Wea.

Withall my heart, for I loue good cheare.

Ciu.

Well, God be with you all, come Francke.

Fran.

God be with you father, God be with you syr Arthur, Maister Oliuer, and maister Weathercocke, sister, God be with you all: God be with you father, God be with you euery one.

VVea. Why how now syr Arthur? all a mort maister Oliuer, how now man? Cheerely syr Lancelot, and merily say, Who can hold that will away. Lance. I shee is gone indeed, poore girle vndone, But when theyle be selfewilled, children must smart. Ar. But syr, that she is wronged, you are the chiefest cause. Therefore tis reason, you redresse her wrong. Wen.

Indeed you must syr Lancelot, you must.

Lance. Must? who can compell me maifter VVeathercock▪ I hope I may doe what I list. VVea.

I grant you may, you may doe what you list.

Oli. Nay, but and you be well euisen, it were not good By this vrampolnesse, and vrowardnesse, to cast away As pretty adowssabell, as am chould chance to see In a Sommers day, chil tell you what chall doe, Chil goe spye vp and downe the towne, and see if I Can heare any tale or dy dings of her, And take her away from thick a messell, vor cham Ashured, heele but bring her to the spoile, And so var you well, we shall meete at your sonne 〈◊〉 . Lance.

I thanke you syr, I take it very kindly.

Arty. To find her out, ile spend my dearest blood. Exit both. So well I loued her, to affect her good. Lance. O maister 〈◊〉 , what hap had I, to force my daughter From maister 〈◊〉 , and this good knight? To one that hath no goodnesse in his thought. Wea.

Ill lucke, but what remedie.

Lance. Yes I haue almost deuised a remedy, Young 〈◊〉 , is shure a prisoner. Wea.

Shure, nothing more shure.

Lance.

And yet perhaps his Vnckle hath released him.

Wea.

It may be very like, no doubt he hath.

Lance. Well if he be in prison, ile haue warran • To tache my daughter till the lawe be tried, For I will shue him vpon couzonage. Wea.

Mary may you, and ouerthrow him too •

Lance. Nay thats not so, I may chance be sco • , And sentence past with him. Wea.

Beleeue me so he may, therefore take heede.

Lance. Well howso • er, yet I will haue warrants, In prison, or at libertie, alls one: You will helpe to serue them maister 〈◊〉 ? Exit Omnes. Enter 〈◊〉 . 〈◊〉 . A plague of the diuell, the diuell take the dyce, The dyce, and the diuell, and his dam • ne goe together: Of all my hundred golden angels, I haue not left me one denier: A poke of come a fiue, what shall I doe? I can borrow no more of my credit: There's not any of my acquaintance, man, nor boy, But I haue borrowed more or lesse off: I would I knewe where to take a good purse, And goe cleare away, by this light ile venture for it, Gods lid my sister Delia, Ile rob her, by this hand. Enter Delia, and Artichoake. Deli. I prethee Artichoake goe not so fast, The weather is hot, and I am something wearie. Arti. Nay I warrant you mistresse Delia ile not tire you With leading, weele goe an extreame moderate pace. Flow.

Stand, deliuer your purse.

Arti.

O lord, theeues, theeues.

Exit Artichoake. Flow.

Come, come, your purse ladie, your purse.

Dali. That voice I haue heard often before this time, What brother Flowerdale, become a theefe? Flow. I, a plague ont, I thanke your father, But sister, come, your mony, come: What the world must find me, I am borne to liue, Tis not a sinne to steale, when none will giue. Deli. O God, is all grace banisht from thy heart, Thinke of the shame that doth attend this fact. Flow, Shame me no shames, come giue me your purse, Ile bind you sister, least I faire the worse. Deli. No, bind me not, hold there is all I haue, And would that mony would redeeme thy shame. Enter Oliuer syr Arthur, and Artichoake. Arti.

Theeues, theeues, theeues.

Oli. Theeues, where man? why how now mistresse Delia, Ha you a liked to bin a robbed? Delia.

No maister Oliuer, tis maister Flowerdale, hee did but iest with me.

Oly. How, Flowerdale, that scoundrell 〈◊〉 , you me • en vs Well, vang thee that. Flow.

Well sin, ile not meddle with you, because I haue a charge.

Deli.

Here brother Flowerdale ile lend you this same mony▪

Flow.

I thanke you sister.

Oli. I wad you woreysplit, and you let the mezell haue a penny, But since you cannot keepe it, chil keepe it my selfe. Ar. Tis pittie to releeue him in this sort, Who makes a triumphant life, his daily sport. Delia. Brother, you see how all men consure you, Farewell, and I pray God amend your life. Oly. Come, chill bring you along, and you safe enough From twentie such scoundrells as thick a one is, Farewell and be hanged zyrrha, as I thinke so thou Wilt be shortly, come syr Arthur. Exit all bu • Flowerdale. Flow. A plague goe with you for a karsie rascall: This Deuenshy 〈◊〉 I think is made all of porke, His hands made onely, for to he • ue vp packs: His hart as f • t and big as his face, As differing far from all braue gallant minds As I to serue the hogges, and drinke with hindes, As I am very neere now: well, what remedie, When mony, meanes, and friends, doe growe so small, Then farewell life, and 〈◊〉 an end of all. Exit omn • . E • ter Father, Luce like a Dutch Frow, Ciuet, and his wife 〈◊〉 Frances. Ci • . By my troath god a mercie for this good Christopher, I thanke thee for my maide, I like her very well, How doest thou like her 〈◊〉 ? Fran. In good sadnesse Tom, very well, excellent well, She speakes so prettily, I pray whats your name? Lu • e.

My name forsooth be called 〈◊〉 .

Fran.

By my troath a fine name, O 〈◊〉 , you are excellent for dressing one head a newe fashion.

〈◊〉 .

Me sall doe euery ting about da head.

Ci • .

What countriwoman is she Kest • r?

Fath.

A dutch woman sir.

Ci • .

Why then she is outlandish, is she not?

Fath.

I Syr she is.

Fran.

O then thou canst tell how to helpe mee to cheekes and 〈◊〉

Luc • .

Y • s mistresse verie vell.

Fath.

Cheekes and eares, why mistresse Frances, want you Cheekes and eares? me thinkes you haue very faire ones.

Fran.

Thou art a foole indeed Tom, thou knowest what I meane,

Ci • . I, I Kester, tis such as they weare a their heads, I prethee Kit haue her in, and sheweher my house. Fath.

I will sir, come 〈◊〉 .

Fran.

O Tom, you haue not bussed me to day Tom.

Ci • . No Frances, we must not kisse afore folkes, God saue me Francke, Enter De • a, and Artich • ake.

See yonder my sister Delia is come, welcome good sister.

Fran.

Welcome good sister, how do you like the tier of my head?

Delia.

Very well sister.

Ci • .

I am glad you're come sister Delia to giue order for Supper, they will be here soone.

Arty. I, but if good luck had not serued, she had Not bin here now, filching Flowerdale had like To peppord vs, but for maister Oliuer, we had bin robbed. De • .

Peace syrrha, no more.

Fath.

Robbed by whom?

Arty.

Marry by none but by Flowerdale, he is turned theefe.

Ci • . By my faith, but that is not well, but God be praised For your escape, will you draw neere sister? Fath.

Syrrha come hither, would Flowerdale, • ee that was my maister, a robbed you, I prethee tell me true?

Arty.

Yes yfaith▪ euen that Flowerdale, that was thy maister.

Fath.

Hold thee, there is a French crowne, and speake no more of this.

Arty. Not I, not a word, now do I smell knauerit: In euery purse Flowerdale tak • s, he is halfe▪ And giues me this to keepe counsell, • o not a word I. Fath.

Why God a mercy.

Fran. Sister looke here, I haue a new Dutch maid, And she speakes so fine, it would do • your heart good. Ciu.

How doe you like her sister?

〈◊〉 .

I like your maid • well.

Ciu.

Well deare sister, will you draw neere, and giue directions for supper, guesse will be here presently.

Delia.

Yes brother, leade the way 〈◊〉 follow you.

Exit 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Delia and Luce.

Harke you Dutch frowe a word.

Luce.

Vat is your vill wi • 〈◊〉 ?

Deli Sister Luc • ▪ tis not your broken language, Nor this same habit, can disguise your 〈◊〉 From I that know you: pray tell me, what meanes this? Luc • . Sister, I see you know me, yet be secret: This borrowed shape, that I haue tan • vpon me, Is but to keepe my selfe, a space vn knowne, Both from my father, and my n • erest friendes▪ Vntill I see, how time will bring to passe, The desperate course, of maister Flowerdale. Deli. O hee is worse then bad, I 〈◊〉〈◊〉 him▪ And let not once thy heart to thinke on him. Luce. Do not perswade me, once to 〈◊〉 thought, Imagine yet, that he is worse then naught: Yet one louers time, may all that ill vndo, That all his former life, did run into▪ Therefore kind sister doe not disclose my estate, If ere his heart doth turne, tis nere too late. Dely. Well, seeing no counsell can remoue your mind, Ile not disclose you, that art wilfull blinde. Luc. Delia, I thank you, I now must please hereies, My sister Frances, neither faire nor wise. Exit Om • s. Enter Flowerdale 〈◊〉 . Flo. On goes he that knowes no end of his iourney, I haue passed the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 bounds of shifting, I haue no course now but to hang my selfe: I haue liued since yesterday two a clocke, of a Spice-cake I had at a buriall▪ and for drinke, I got it at an Ale-house among 〈◊〉 , 〈◊〉 as Will beare out a man, if he haue no mony indeed. I meane out of their companyes, 〈◊〉 they are men Of good carriage. Who comes heere? The two Conycatchers, that woon all my mony of me. Ile trie if thaylelend me any. Enter 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Rafe. What M. Richard how doe you? How doest thou Rafe? By God gentleme the world Growes bare with m • , will you do as much as lend Me an Angel 〈◊〉 you both, you know you Won a hundred of me the other day. Rafe. Ho • ▪ Angel? God damb vs if we lost not euery Peny, within an 〈◊〉 after thou wer • gone. Flow. I prethy lend me so much as will pay for my supper, Ile pay you againe, as I am a Gentleman. Rafe. I faith, we haue haue not a farthing, not a myte: I▪ wonder at it 〈◊〉 Flowerdale, You will so carelesly vndo your selfe, Why you will loose more mony in an houre, Then any honestman spend in a yeare, For shame betake you to some honest Trade, And liue not thus so like a Vagabond. Exit both. Flow. A Vagabond indeed, more villaines you • They gaue me counsell that 〈◊〉〈◊〉 me: Those Diuels first brought me to this I am, And being thus, the first that doe me wrong. Well, yet I haue one friend left in store, Not farre from hence, there dwels a Cokatryce, One that I first put in a satten gowne, And not a tooth that dwell within her head, But stands me at the least in 20▪ pound: Her will I visite now my coyne is gone, And as I take it heere dwelles the Gentlewomen. What ho, is Mistesse 〈◊〉 within? Enter 〈◊〉 . Ruff. What sawfie Rascall is that which knocks so bold, O, is it you • old spend▪ thrist, are you here? One' that is turned Cozoner about the to 〈◊〉 ▪ My Mistresse saw you, and sends this • ord by me▪ Either be packing quickly from the doore, Or you shall haue such a greeting sent you strait, As you will little like on, you had best be gone. Flow. Why so, this is as it should be, being poore, Thus art thou ser • ed by a vile painted whoore. Well, since thy damned crew doe so abuse thee, Ile try of honest men, how they will vse 〈◊〉 . Enter 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 . Sir I beseech you to take compassion of a man, One whose Fortunes haue beene better then at this instant they seeme to bee': but if I might craue of you so much little portion, as would bring mee to my friends, I should rest thankfull, v • till I had requited so great a 〈◊〉 . 〈◊〉 . Fie, fie, yong man, this course is very bad, Too many such haue wee about this Cittie, Yet for I haue not seene you in this sort, Nor noted you to be a common begger: Hold theres an Angel, to beare your charges, Downe, goe to your friends, do not on this depend, Such bad beginnings oft haue 〈◊〉 ends. Exit 〈◊〉 . Flow. Worser endes: nay, if it fall out No worse then in old angels I care not, Nay now I haue had such a fortunate beginning, Ile not let a: sixepennie-purse escape me, By the Masse, here comes another. Enter a Citizens wife with a torch before her. God blesse you faire Mistresse. Now would it please you gentlewoman to looke into the wants of a poore Gentle-man, a yonger brother, I doubt not but God will treble restore it backe againe, one that neuer before this time demanded pennie, 〈◊〉 , nor farthing. 〈◊〉 .

Wife. Stay Alexander, now by my troth a very proper man, and tis great pittie: hold my friend, theres all the monie I haue about me, a couple of shillings, and God blesse thee.

Flow.

Now God thanke you sweete Lady: if you haue any friend, or Garden-house, where you may imploy a poore gentleman as your friend, I am yours to command in all secret seruice.

Citiz.

I thanke you good friend, I prethy let me see that againe, I gaue thee, there is one of them a brasse shilling, giue me them, and here is halfe a crowne in gold. He giues it her. Nowe out vpon thee Rascall, secret seruice: what doest thou make of mee? it were a good deede to haue thee whipt: now I haue my money againe, ile see thee hanged before I giue thee a pennie: secret seruice: on good Alexander.

Exit both. Flow. This is vill 〈◊〉 lucke, I perceiue 〈◊〉 Will not thriue: here comes more. God forgiue mee, Sir Arthur, and M. Oliuer, afore God, Ile speake to them, God saue you Sir Arthur▪ God saue you M. Oliuer. 〈◊〉 Sir 〈◊〉 , 〈◊〉 M. Oliuer. Oli. Byn you there 〈◊〉 , come will you ytaken your selfe To your tooles, 〈◊〉 ? Flow. Nay, M. 〈◊〉 , Ile not fight with you, Alas sir you know it was not my dooings, It was onely a plot to 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 daughter: By God, I neuer meant you 〈◊〉 . Oli. And whore is the Gentle-woman thy wife, Mezell? Whore is shee, 〈◊〉 , 〈◊〉 Flow. By my troth M. Oliuer, sicke, very sicke; And God is my Iudge, I know not what meanes to make for her, good Gentlewoman. Oli.

Tell me true, is she sicke? tell me true i • ch • ise thee?

Flow.

Yes faith, I tell you 〈◊〉 : M. 〈◊〉 , if you would doe mee the small kindnesse, but to lend me fortie shillings: So God helpe me I will pay you • o 〈◊〉 as my abilitie shall make me able, as I 〈◊〉 a gentleman.

Oli.

Well thou zaist thy wife is zicke: hold, thers 〈◊〉 shillings, giued it to thy wife, looke 〈◊〉 gi • e it her, or I shall zo veze thee, thou wert not so vezed this zeuen yeare, looke too it.

Art. Y faith M. Oliuer, it is in vaine To giue to 〈◊〉 that 〈◊〉 thinkes of her▪ Oli.

Well, would che could 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ▪

Flow.

I tell you true, sir Arthur, as I am a gentleman.

Oli.

Well fare you well 〈◊〉 : come 〈◊〉 Arthur.

Exit both: Flow. By the Lord this is 〈◊〉 . Fiue golden Angels compast in an houre, If this trade hold, ile neuer 〈◊〉 a new. Welcome sweet gold: and beggery adue. Enter 〈◊〉 and Father. 〈◊〉 .

See Kester if you can find the house.

Flow. Whose here, my Vnckle, and my man Kester? By the masse tis they. How doe you Vnckle, how dost thou Kester? By my troath Vnckle, you must n • edes lend Me some mony, the poore gentlewoman My wife, so God helpe me, is verie sicke, I was robde of the hundred angels You gaue me, they are gone. Vnc.

I they are gone indeed, come Kester away.

Flow.

Nay Vnckle, do you heare? good Vnckle.

Unc. Out hypocrite, I will not heare thee speake, Come leaue him Kester. Flow.

Kester, honest Kester.

Fath. Syr, I ha • e 〈◊〉 to say to you, Open the doore to my kin, thou hadst best Lockt fast, sor theres a false knaue without. Flow. you are an old lying Rascall, So you are. Exit both. Enter Luce. Luce.

Vat is de matter, Vat be you yonker?

Flow.

By this light a Dutch Froe, they say they are calde Kind, by this light ile try her.

Luce.

Vat bin you yonker, why doe you not speake?

Flow.

By my troath sweet heart, a poore gentleman that would desire of you, if it stand with your liking, the bountie of your purse.

Enter father. Luce.

O here God, so young an armine.

Flow.

Armine sweet-heart, I know not what you meane by that, but I am almost a begger.

Luce. Are you not a married man, vere bin your vife? Here is all I haue, take dis. Flow.

What gold young Froe? this is braue.

Fath.

If he haue any grace, heele now repent▪

Luce.

Why speake you not, were be yo • r 〈◊〉 ?

Flow. Dead, dead, shees dead, tis she hath vndone me, Spent me all I had, and kept 〈◊〉〈◊〉 mine nose to braue me. Luce.

Did you vse her vell?

Flow.

Vse her, theres neuer a gentlewoman in England could be better v • ed then 〈◊〉〈◊〉 , I • ould but Coatch her, her diet stood me 〈◊〉 pound a moneth, but shee is dead and in her graue, my cares are buried.

Luce.

Indeed dat vas not scone.

Fath.

He is turned more diuell then he was before.

Flow.

Thou doest belong to mai • er Ciuet here, doest thou not?

Luce.

Yes me doe.

Flow. Why theres it, theres not a handfull of plate But belongs to me, Gods my Iudge: If I had but such a wench as thou art, Theres neuer a man in England would make more Of her, then I would doe▪ so she had any stocke. They call within: O why Tanikin. Luce.

Stay one doth call, I shall come by and by againe.

Flow. By this hand, this Dutch wench is in loue with me, Were it not admirall to make her steale All Ciuets Plate, and runne away. Fath. Twere beastly. O maister Flowerdale, Haue you no feare of God, nor conscience: What doe you meane, by this vilde course you take? Flow.

What doe I meane, why to liue, that I meane.

Fath. To liue in this sort, fie vpon the course, Your life doth show, you are a verie coward. Flow.

A coward, I pray in what?

Fath.

Why you will borrow sixpence of a boy.

Flow. Snailes is there such cowardice in that, I dare Borrow it of a man, I and of the tallest man▪ In England, if he will lend it me, Let me borrowe it how I can, and let them come by it how they dare. And it is well 〈◊〉 , 〈◊〉 rid out a hundred times If I would: so I might. Fath. It was not want of will, but cowardice, There is none that lends to you, but know they gaine: And what is that but onely stealth in you, De • ia might hang you now, did not her heart Take pittie of you for her sisters sake. Goe get you hence, least lingering here you stay, You fall into their hands you looke not for. Flow. Ile tarie here, till the Dutch Froe Comes, if all the diuels in hell were here. Exit. Father. Enter syr Lancelot, maister Weathercocke, and Aruchoake. Luce.

Where is the doore, are we not past it Artichoake?

Arty. Bith masse heres one, ile aske him, doe you heare fir? What are you so proud? doe you heare, which is the way To maister Ciuets house? what will you not speake? O me, this is filching Flwoerdale. Lance. O wonderfull, is this leaude villaine here? O you cheating Roague, you cut-purse conicatcher, VVhat ditch you villaine, is my daughters graue? A cozening rascall, that must make a will, Take on him that strict habit, very that: VVhen he should turne to angell, a dying grace, Ile father in lawe you syr, ile make a will, Speake villaine, wheres my daughter? Poysoned I warrant you, or knocked a the head: And to abuse good maister Weathercocke, with his fordged will, And maister Weathercocke, to make my grounded resolution, Then to abuse the Deuenshyre gentlemen: Goe, away with him to prison. Flow.

VVherefore to prison? syr I will not goe.

Enter maister Ciuet his wife, Oliuer, syr Arthur, Father, and Vnckle Delia▪ Luce. O heeres his Vnckle, welcome gentlemen, welcome all, Such a cozoner gentlemen, a murderer too For any thing I know, my daughter is missing: Hath bin looked for, cannot be found, a vild vpon thee. Unc. He is my kinsman, altho his life be vilde. Therefore in Gods name, doe with him what you will. Lance.

Marrie to prison.

Flow.

Wherefore to prison? snick vp, I owe you nothing.

Lance.

Bring forth my daughter then, away with him.

Flow.

Goe seeke your daughter, what doe you lay to my charge,

Lance.

Suspition of murder, goe▪ away with him.

Flow. Murder your dogs, I murder your daughter, Come Vnckle, I know youle baile me. Vnc. Not I, were there no more. Then I the Iaylor, thou the prisoner. Lance.

Goe away with him.

Enter Luce like a Frowe. Luce. O my life here, where will you ha de man? Vat ha de younker done? Wea.

Woman he hath kild his wife.

Luce.

His vife, dat is not good, dat is not seene.

Lance.

Hang not vpon him huswife, if you doe ile lay you by him.

Luce. Haue me no, and or way doe you haue him, He tell me dat he loue me hartily. Fran.

Lead away my maide to prison, why Tom will you suffer that?

Ciu.

No by your leaue father, she is no vagrant:

She is my wiues chamber maid, & as true as the skin between any mans browes here.

Lance. Goe too, you're both fooles: sonne Ciues, Of my life this is a plot, Some stragling counterfeit preferd to you: No doubt to rob you of your plate and Iewels, Ile haue you led away to prison trull. Luce. I am no trull, neither outlandish Frowe, Nor he, nor I shall to the prison goe: Know you me now? nay neuer stand amazed. Father I know I haue offended you, And tho that dutie wills me bend my knees To you in dutie and obedience: Yet this wayes doe I turne, and to him yeeld My loue, my dutie and my humblenesse. Lanc.

Bastard in nature, kneele to such a slau • ?

Luce. O M. 〈◊〉 , if too much griefe Haue not stopt vp the orgens of your voyce, Then speake to her that is thy faithfull wife, Or doth contempt of me, thus tye thy tongue: Turne not away, I 〈◊〉 Aethyope, No wanton Cressed, nor a changing Hello • ▪ But rather one made wretched by thy losse. What turnst thou still from me? O then I gesse thee wofulst among haplesse men. Flow. I am indeed wife, wonder among wiues! Thy chastitie and vertue hath infused Another soule in mee, red with defame, For in my blushing 〈◊〉 is seene my shame. Lanc.

Out Hypocrite, I charge thee trust him not.

Luce. Not trust him, by hopes after blisse, I know no sorrow can be compar'd to his. Lan. Well since thou weart ordain'd to beggery, Follow thy fortune, I defie thee I. O • .

Ywood che were so well ydoussed as was euer white cloth in a tocking mill, and chea ha not made me weepe.

Fath.

If he hath any grace heele now repent.

Art.

It moues my heart.

Wea.

By my troth I must weepe, I can not chuse.

Uncle.

None but a beast would such a maide misuse.

Flow. Content thy selfe, I hope to win his fauour, And to redeeme my reputation lost, And Gentlemen beleeue me, I beseech you, I hope your eyes shall behold such change, As shall deceiue your expectation. O • .

I would che were ysplit now, but che bel • eue him.

Lance.

How, beleeue him.

Wea.

By the mackins, I doe.

Lance.

What doe you thinke that ere he will haue grace?

Wea.

By my faith it will goe hard.

Oly.

Well che vorye he is changed▪ and M. Flowerdale, in hope you been so, hold theres 〈◊〉 pound toward your zetting vp: what bee not ashamed, vang it man, vang it, bee a good husband, louen your wife▪ and you shall not want for vortie more, 〈◊〉 vor thee.

Arth. My meanes are little, but if youl • • ollow me, I will instruct you in my ablest power: But to your wife I giue this Diamond, And proue true Dimond faire in all your life. Flow. Thankes good sir 〈◊〉 , M. 〈◊〉 , You being my 〈◊〉 , and growne so kind, Bindes mee in all 〈◊〉 to restore. Oly. What, restore me, no 〈◊〉 man, I haue vortie pound more for Luce, here vang 〈◊〉 : Zouth chil devie 〈◊〉 els, what do not thinke me

A Mezel or a Scondrell to throw away 〈◊〉 money▪ che haue a hundred pound more to 〈◊〉 of 〈◊〉 good spotation: I hope your vnder and your vncle here wil vollow my • amples.

Vncle.

You haue gest right of me, if he leaue of this course of life, he shall be mine heire.

Lan. But he shall neuer get a groat of me, A Cozoner, a deceiuer, one that kild his painefull Father, honest Gentleman that passed the fearefull Danger of the sea, to get him liuing and maintaine him braue. Wea.

What hath he kild his father?

Lance.

I sir, with conceit of his vild courses.

Fath.

Sir, you are misinformed.

Lanc.

Why thou old knaue, thou toldst me so thy selfe.

Fa. I wrong'd him then: and toward my M. stock, Thers 20. Nobles for to make amends. Flo. No Kester, I haue troubled thee, and wrong thee more, What thou in loue giues, I in loue restore. Frā. Ha, ha, sister, there you playd bo-peepe with Tom, What shall I giue her toward houshold? Sister Delia, shall I giue her my Fanne? 〈◊〉 .

You were best aske your husband.

Fran.

Shal I 〈◊〉 ▪

〈◊〉 .

I do Franck ile by thee a new one, with a longer handle.

Franck.

A russet one Franke.

Ciuit.

I with russet feathers.

Fran.

Here sister, theres my Fanne toward houshold, to keepe you warme.

Luce.

I thanke, you sister.

Wea.

Why this is well, and toward faire Luces stocke, heres fortie shillings: and fortie good shillings more, Ile giue her marrie▪ Come sir Lancelot, I must haue you friends.

Lance. Not I▪ all this is counterfeit, He will consume it, were it a Million. Fath.

Sir, what is your daughters dower worth?

Lance. Had she been married to an honest man, It had beene better then a thousand pound. Fath. Pay it him, and ile giue you my bond, To make her ioynter better worth then three▪ Lance.

Your bond sir, why what are you?

Fath. One whose word in 〈◊〉 • ho I say it, Will passe there for as much as yours. Lanc.

VVeart not thou late that vnthrifts seruingman?

Fath. Looke on me better, now my scarre is off. Nere muse man at this metamorphosie. Lance.

M. Flowerdale.

Flow. My father, O I shame to looke on him. Pardon deare father the follyes that are past. Fa. Sonne, sonne I doe, and ioy at this thy change, And applaud thy fortune in this vertuous maide, Whom heauen hath sent to thee to saue thy soule. Luc.

This addeth ioy to ioy, hie heauen be prais'd.

Wea. M. Flowerdale, welcome frō death, good M. Flowerdale. Twas sed so here, twas sed so here good faith. Fath. I caused that rumour to be spred my selfe▪ Because ide see the humours of my sonne, Which to relate the circumstance is needlesse▪ And sirra see you runne no more into that same disease: For he thats once cured of that maladie, Of Ryot, Swearing, Drunkennes, and Prid • , And falles againe into the like distresse, That feuor is deadly, doth till death indure: Such men die mad as of a callenture. Flow.

Heauen helping me, ile hate the course as hell.

Unc.

Say it and do it Cozen, all is well.

〈◊〉 . Wel being in hope youle proue an honest man, I take you to my fauour brother Flowerdale, Welcome with all my heart: I see your care Hath brought these acts to this conclusion, And I am glad of i • , come lets in and feast. 〈◊〉 . Nay zoft you awhile, you promised to make Sir 〈◊〉 and me 〈◊〉 , here is your wisest Daughter, see which ans sheele haue. Lane.

A Gods name, you haue my good will, get hers.

Oly.

How say you the • Damsell, tyters hate?

Delia.

I • ir, am yours.

Oly. Why, then send for a Vicar, and chil haue it Dispatched in a trice so chill. 〈◊〉 . Pardon me sir, I meane I am yours, In loue, in dutie: and affection. But not to loue as wife, shall 〈◊〉 be said, Delya was buried married, but a • ayd. Arth. Doe not condemne your selfe for euer Vertuous faire, you were borne to loue. Oly. Why you say true sir 〈◊〉 she was ybere to it So well as her mother▪ but I pray you shew vs Some zamples or reasons why you will not marry? Deli. Not that I doe condemne a married life, For tis no doubt a 〈◊〉 thing: But for the care and crosses of a wife, The trouble in this world that children bring, My vow is in heauen in earth to liue alone, Husbands howsoeuer good, I will haue none. Oly. Why then chil will liue Batcheller too, Che zet not a vig by a wife, if a wife zet not a vig By me▪ Come shalls go to dinner? Fa. To morrow I craue your companies in Marklane: To night weele frolike in M. 〈◊〉 house, And to each health, drinke downe a full carouse. FINIS.