To imprison him that nothing hath to pay? Unc. Lady, I know his Humours all too well, Luce. Say that your Debts were paid, then is he free? Unc. Ay, Virgin, that being answer'd, I have done. But to him that is all as impoffible, As I to scale the high Pyramids. Sheriff, take your Prifoner; Maiden, fare thee well, Unc. Fair Maid, stand up; not in regard of him, I do releafe him: Mafter Sheriff, I thank And Officers, there is for you to drink. you: Here, Maid, take this Mony, there is a hundred Angels; And, for I will be fure he fhall not have it, Dry your Eyes, Neice, do not too much lament Exit Uncle Flow. A plague go with you for an old Fornicator: Come, Kit, the Mony, come, honest Kit. Fath. Nay by my Faith, Sir, you shall pardon me. Flon you Flow. And why, Sir, pardon you? give me the Mony, old Rafcal, or I will make you. Luce. Pray hold your Hands, give it him honeft Friend. Fath. If you be fo content, with all my Heart. Flow. Content, Sir, 'sblood fhe fhall be content Whether the will or no. A rattle-baby come to follow me? Go, get you gone to the greafie Chuff your Father, Bring me your Dowry, or never look on me. Fath. Sir, fhe hath forfook her Father, and all her Friends for you. Flow. Hang thee, her Friends and Father all together. Fath. Yet part with fomething to provide her Lodging. Flow. Yes, I mean to part with her and you, but if I part with one Angel, hang me at a Poft. I'll rather throw them at a caft of Dice, as I have done a thousand of their Fellows. Fath. Nay then I will be plain, degenerate Boy, Fath. Did not this whining Woman hang on me, Luce. O do not curfe him. Fath. I do not curfe him, and to pray for him were vain, It grieves me that he bears his Father's Name. Flow. Well, you old Rafcal, I fhall meet with you. Sirrah, get you gone, I will not ftrip the Livery Over your Ears, because you paid for it: But do not use my Name, Sirrah, Do you hear? Look you do not Use my Name, you were beft. Fath. Pay me the twenty Pound then that I lent you, Or give me Security when I may have it. Flow. I'll pay thee not a Penny, And for Security I'll give thee none. Minckins, look you do not follow me, look you do not: If you do, Beggar, I fhall flit your Nofe. T 4 Luco Luce. Alas, what fhall I do? Flow. Why turn Whore, that's a good Trade, And fo perhaps I'll fee thee now and then, [Exit Flowerdale. Luce. Alas-the-day that ever I was born. Fath. Sweet Miftrefs, do not weep, I'll ftick to you. The which I think comes to a hundred Pound, Lanc. Son Civet, Daughter Frances, bear with me, But 'tis faln out with me, as with many Families befide, They are moft unhappy, that are most belov'd. Civ. Father, 'tis fo, 'tis even faln out fo, But what remedy? fet Hand to your Heart, and let it pass, Lanc. Ay, Son Civet, I'll come. Civ. And you, Mafter Oliver? Oli. Ay, for che a vext out this veaft, chil fee if a gan Make a better veaft there. Civ. And you, Sir Arthur? Arth. Ay, Sir, although my Heart be full, I'll be a Partner at your Wedding Feast. Civ. And welcome all indeed, and welcome; come Frank, are you ready? Frank. Jefhue, how hafty thefe Husbands are, I pray, Father, pray to God to bless me. Lanc. God bless thee, and I do; God make thee wife, Send you both Joy, I wish it with wet Eyes. Frank, But, Father, fhall not my Sifter Delia go along with us? She is excellent good at Cookery, and fuch things. Lanc. Yes marry fhall fhe: Delia, make you ready. Del. I am ready, Sir, I will firft go to Greenwich, From thence to my Coufin Chesterfield, and fo to London. Civ. It fhall fuffice, good Sifter Delia, it fhall fuffice, but fail us not, good Sifter, give order to Cooks and others, for I would not have my fweet Frank to foil her Fingers. Frank. No by my troth not I, a Gentlewoman, and a marrried Gentlewoman too, to be Companion to Cooks, And Kitchin-boys, not I i'faith, I fcorn that. Civ. Why, I do not mean thou fhalt, fweet Heart, thou feeft I do not go about it; well, farewel too: You Gods pity Mr. Weathercock, we fhall have your Company too? Weath. With all my Heart, for I love good Cheer. Civ. Well, God be with you all, come, Frank. Frank. God be with you, Father, God be with you, Sir Arthur, Master Oliver, and Mafter Weathercock, Sifter, God be with you all: God be with you, Father, God be with you every one. Weath. Why, how now, Sir Arthur, all a mort, Master Oliver, how now, Man? Cheerly, Sir Lancelot, and merrily fay, Who can hold that will away. Lanc. Ay, the is gone indeed, poor Girl, undone, But when these be felf-will'd, Children muft fmart. Art. But, Sir, that he is wronged, you are the chiefest Caufe, therefore 'tis reafon you redrefs her wrong. Weath. Indeed you muft, Sir Lancelot, you must. Lanc. Lanc. Muft? who can compel me, Mr. Weathercock? I hope I may do what I lift. Weath. I grant you may, you may do what And take her away from thick a Meffel, vor cham And fo var you well, we fhall meet at your Son Civer's, Arth. To find her out, I'll spend my dearest Blood. Lanc. O Mafter Weathercock, What hap had I, to force my Daughter [Exeunt Ambo. From Mafter Oliver, and this good Knight, Lanc. Yes, I have almoft devised a Remedy, Lane. And yet perhaps his Uncle hath releas'd him. Weath. Marry may you, and overthrow him too. Weath. Believe me, fo he may, therefore take heed. In Prison, or at Liberty, all's one : You will help to serve them, Mafter Weathercock? Enter Flowerdale. Exeunt. Flow. A plague of the Devil, the Devil take the Dice. The Dice, and the Devil, and his D.m go together; Of all my hundred golden Angels, I have not left me one Denier: A |