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But if there be any thing between us, then there is,
Flow. You may be deceiv'd, Sir Lancelot, the Italian Hath a pretty faying, Quefto? I have forgot it too, 'Tis out of my Head, but in my Tranflation (him. If't hold thus, thou haft a Friend, keep him; if a Foe trip Lanc. Come, I do fee by this there is fomewhat between And before God I could wish it otherwise. (you,
Flow. Well what is between us, can hardly be alter'd: Sir Lancelot, I am to ride forth to morrow, That way which I muft ride, no Man muft deny Me the Sun, I would not by any particular Man, Be denied common and general Paffage. If any one Saith, Flowerdale, thou paffeft not this way; My answer is, I muft either on or return: But return is not my Word, I must on : If I cannot, then make my way, nature Hath done the laft for me, and there's the Fine.
Lanc. Mr. Flowerdale, every Man hath one Tongue, And two Ears; Nature in her Building,
Is a moft curious Work-mafter.
Flow. That is as much as to fay, a Man fhould hear more Than he should speak.
Lanc. You fay true, and indeed I have heard more, Than at this time I will speak.
Flow. You fay well,
Lanc. Slanders are more common than Troths, Master Flowerdale, but Proof is the Rule for both.
Flow. You fay true, what do you call him
Hath it there in his third Canton ?
Lanc. I have heard you have been wild: I have believ'd it. Flow, 'Twas fit, 'twas neceffary.
Lanc. But I have feen fomewhat of late in you, That hath confirm'd in me an Opinion of Goodness toward you.
Flow. I'Faith, Sir, I am fure I never did you harm: Some good I have done, either to you or yours, I am fure you know not, neither is it my will you fhould.
Lanc. Ay, your Will, Sir.
Flow. Ay, my Will, Sir; 'sfoot do you know ought of Begod and you do, Sir, I am abus'd.
Lanc. Go, Mr. Flowerdale, what I know, I know; And know you thus much out of my Knowledge, That I truly love you. For my Daughter, She's yours. And if you like a Marriage better Than a Brawl, all quirks of Reputation fet afide, go with me prefently: And where you fhould fight a bloody Battel, you fhall be married to a lovely Lady.
Flow. Nay but, Sir Lancelot ?
Lanc. If you will not imbrace my offer, offer, yet affure your felf thus much, I will have order to hinder your Encounter. Flow. Nay but hear me, Sir Lancelot.
Lanc. Nay, ftand not you upon imputative Honour, 'Tis meerly unfound, unprofitable, and idle Inferences; your Bufinefs is to wed my Daughter, therefore give me your prefent word to do it; I'll go and provide the Maid, therefore give me your prefent Refolution, either
now or never.
Flow. Will you fo put me to it?
(never. Lanc. Ay, afore God, either take me now, or take me Elfe what I thought should be our match, fhall be our parting. So fare you well for ever.
Flow. Stay; fall out, what may fall, my Love Is above all: I will come.
Lanc. I expect you, and fo fare you well.
[Exit Sir Lancelot. Fath. Now, Sir, how fhall we do for wedding Apparel? Flow. By the Mafs that's true; now help Kit, The Marriage ended, we'll make amends for all.
Fath. Well, no more, prepare you for your Bride, We will not want for Cloaths, whatfoe'er betide.
Flow. And thou fhalt fee, when once I have my Dower,
Fath. Is't poffible, he hath his fecond living,
Elfe would I fwear, he never was my Son,
Unc. I told you fo, but you would not believe it.
To beauteous Luce, Sir Lancelot Spurcock's Daughter.
Unc. Is't poffible?
Fath. 'Tis true, and thus I mean to curb him;
Unc. What, arreft him on his wedding Day?
Fath. Brother, I'll have it done this very Day,.
Unc. Well, feeing you will have it fo,
Fath. So Brother, by this means fhall we perceive
And how his Wife doth ftand affected to him,
Oli. Cham afhured thick be the Place, that the fcoundrel Appointed to meet me, if a come, zo: If a come not, zo. And che war avife, he would make a Coyftrel an us, Ched vefe him, and che vang him in hand, che would Hoyft him, and give it him too and again, zo chud: Who a been there, Sir Arthur? chil ftay afide.
Arth. I have dog'd the Devonshire Man into the Field, For fear of any harm that should befal him : I had an inckling of that yefternight, That Flowerdale and he fhould meet this Morning. Though of my Soul, Oliver fears him not, Yet for I'd fee fair play on either fide, Made me to come, to fee their Valours try'd Good morrow to Mafter Oliver.
Oli. God and good Morrow.
Arth. What, Mafter Oliver, are you angry? Oli. What an it be, tyt an grieven you? Arth. Not me at all, Sir, but I imagine By your being here thus arm'd, You ftay for fome that you should fight withal. Oli. Why and he do, che would not dezire you to take his part.
Arth. No, by my troth, I think you need it not, For he you look for, I think means not to come.
Oli. No, and che war afhure of that, ched avefe him in another Place.
Daff. O, Sir Arthur, Mafter Oliver, ay me,
Arth. Married to Flowerdale! 'tis impoffible.
Daff. O'tis too true, here comes his Uncle. VO L. VI.
Enter young Flowerdale's Uncle, with Sheriff and Officers. Unc. Good morrow, Sir Arthur, good morrow, Master Oliver.
Oli. God and good Morn, Mr. Flowerdale. I pray tellen us, is your fcoundrel 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?
Unc. The Mufick plays; they are coming from the Church. Sheriff, do your Office: Fellows, ftand ftoutly 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 Juftice, and fworn to keep the Peace.
Weath. Ay marry is he, Sir, a very Juftice, and fworn to keep the Peace, you must not difturb the Weddings.
Lanc. Nay, never frown nor storm, Sir, if 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 Flow. Uncle, this is fhe i'faith: Mafter Under-Sheriff, Arreft me? At whofe Suit? Draw, Kit.
Unc. At my Suit, Sir.
Lanc. Why, what's the Matter, Mr. Flowerdale?
Flow. Why, Uncle, Uncle.
Unc. Coufin, Coufin, you have Uncled me,