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Fath. So Brother, by this means shall we perceive What Sir Lancelot in this pinch will do : And how his Wife doth stand affected to him, Her Love will then be tried to the uttermoft : And all the rest of them. Brother, what I will do, Shall harm him much, and much avail him too. [Exeunt.
Oli. Cham ashured thick be the Place," that the scoundrel Appointed to meet me, if a come, żo : If a come not, zo. And che war avise, he would make a Coystrel an us, Ched vese him, and che vang him in hand, che would Hoyst him, and give it him too and again, zo chud: Who a been there, Sir Arthur? chil stay aside.
Arth. I have dog’d the Devonshire Man into the Field,
Oli. God and good Morrow.
Arth. Not me at all, Sir, but I imagine
Oli. Why and he do, che would not dezire you to take
need it not,
Arth. No, by my troth, I think you
Oli. No, and che war alhure of that, ched avese him in another place.
Love, and yours, and mine, sweet Mistress Luce
Arth. Married to Flowerdale ! 'tis impossible.
Oli. Married, Man? che hope thou doft but jest: To make an a volowten merriment of it.
Daff. O'tis too true, here comes his Uncle. VOL. VI.
Enter young Flowerdale's Uncle, with Sheriff and Officers.
Unc. Good morrow, Sir Arthur, good morrow, Mafter Oliver.
Oli. God and good Morn, Mr. Flowerdale. I pray tellen us,
is your scoundrel Kinsman married ? Arth. Mr. Oliver, call him what you will, but he is married To Sir Lancelot's Daughter here.
Unc. Sir Arthur, unto her ?
Oli. Ay, ha the old vellow zerved me thick a trick?
Onc. The Musick plays; they are coming from the Church. Sheriff, do your Office: Fellows, ftand #outly to it.
Enter all to the Wedding. Oli. God give you Joy, as the old zaid Proverb is, and fome Zorrow among. You met us well, did you not?
Lanc. Nay, be not angry, Sir, the fault is in me, I have done all the wrong, kept him from coming to the Field to you, as I might, Sir, for I am a Justice, and sworn to keep the Peace.
Weath. Ay marry is he, Sir, a very Justice, and sworn to keep the Peace, you must not disturb the Weddings.
Lanc. Nay, never frown nor storm, Sir, if you do, I'll have an order taken for you.
Oli. Well, well, chil be quiet.
Weath. Mr. Flowerdale, Sir Lancelot, look you, who here is? Mr. Flowerdale,
Lanc. Mr. Flowerdale, welcome with all my Heart.
, Arrest me? At whose Suit ? Draw, Kit.
Unc. At my Suit, Sir.
Unc. This is the matter, Sir, this Unthrift here
Flow. Why, Uncle, Uncle.
Unc. Coulin, Cousin, you have Uncled me,
Lanc. Why, Sir, suppose he be to you in debt
Unc. (), Sir, I was too late inform’d of that Plot,
Lanc. Ha, hath he not fuch Lordships,
Flow. My Uncle here's mad,
Fath. Not I, Sir, I am too old to lie; I rather know
Weath. And I prithee where be thy honest Friends?
Flow. You are not cozen'd, nor is the undone,
greedy Gnat, their bail will serve. Unc. Ay, Sir, I'll ask no better bail. Lanc. No, Sir, you shall not take my bail, nor his, Nor my Son Civet's, I'll not be cheated, I. Sheriff, take your Prisoner, I'll not deal with him :Let's Uncle make false Dice with his false Bones, I will not have to do with him: Mock’d, gulld, and wrong'd!
Come, Girl, though it be late, it falls out well,
you. Lanc. Comfort a Cozener? On my curse forsake him? Luce. This day you caus'd me on your Curse to take him:
pray, my grieved Soul oppress;
Lanc. O Master Weathercock,
Weath. Ah, he hath over-reach'd me too.
Lanc. She might have liv'd like Delia, in a happy Virgin's state.
Del. Father, be patient, Sorrow comes too late.
Lant. And on her Knees she begg'd and did intreat,
Arth. You have done her and me the greater wrong.
Lanc. Or, Master Oliver, accept my Child, and half my Wealth is
yours. Oli. No, Sir, chil break no Laws. Luce. Never fear, she will not trouble you.
Del. Yet, Sister, in this passion do not run headlong to Confusion. You may affe& him, tho' not follow him.
Frank. Do, Sister, hang him, let him go.
Luce. You are three gross Fools, let me alone,
Oli. But an he have his Legs at liberty, Cham aveard he will never live with you.
Arth. Ay, but he is now in Hucksters handling for running away.
Lanc. Huswife, you hear how you and I are wrong'd,
Fran. How say you to that, Tom?
Civ. Peace, Frank, I would be sorry to see thy Sister cast away, as I am a Gentleman.
Lanc. What, are you yet resolv'd?
Luce. This way I turn, go you unto your Feast,
Lanc. For ever fly my sight : Come, Gentlemen,
Unc. Sheriff, take your Prisoner to your charge.
Uncle, Sheriff and Officers.
Unc. Fair Maid, for you, I love you with my Heart,
Luce. Impute his wildness, Sir, unto his Youth,