Imatges de pÓgina
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A pox of come a five, what shall I do?
I can borrow no more of my Credit :
There's not any of my acquaintance, Mari Hot Boy,
But I have borrowed more or less of :
I would I knew where to take a good Purse,
And go clear away, by this Light I'll vetiture for it.
Gods lid my Sister Delia,
I'll rob her, by this Hand.

Enter Delia and Artichoak,
Del. I prethee; Artichoak, go not to fast,
The Weather is hot, and I am something weary.

Art. Nay I warrant you, Mistress Delia, I'll not, tire you With leading, we'll go an extream moderate pace.

Flow. Stand, deliver your Purse.
Art, O Lord, Thieves, Thieves. [Exit Artichoak.
Flow. Come, come, your Purse, Lady, your Purse.

Del. That Voice I have heard often before this timië,
What, Brother Flowerdale become a Thief?

Flow. Ay, plague on't, I thank your Father
Bur Sister, come, your Mony, come :
What the World must find me, I am born to live,
'Tis not a Sin to steal, when none will give.

Del. O God, is all Grace banisht from thy Heart,
Think of the Shame that doth attend this Fa&t.

Flow. Shame me no Shames, come give me your Purse ; I'll bind you, Sifter, left I fare the worse.

Del. No, bind me not, hold, there is all I have,
And would that Mony would redeem thy shame.

Enter Oliver, Sir Arthur, and Artichoak.
Art. Thieves, Thieves, Thieves.

Oli. Thieves, where Man? why how now, Mistress Delia, Ha you a liked to been a robbed?

Del. No, Master Oliver, 'tis Master Flowerdale, he did but jest with me.

Oli. How, Flowerdale, that Scoundrel? Sirrah, you meten us well, vang the that.

Flow. Well, Sir, I'll not meddle with you, because I have a Charge.

Del. Here Brother Flowerdale, I'll lend you this fame Mony. Flow. I thank

you, Sister.

Oli. I wad yoù were ysplit, and you let the Mezel have a Penny; but since you cannot keep it, chil keep it my felf.

Arth. 'Tis pity to relieve him in this fort, Who makes a triumphant Life his daily sport.

Del. Brother, you see how all Men censure you, Farewel, and I pray God amend your Life.

Oli. Come, chil bring you along, and you safe enough From twenty such Scoundrels as thick an one is, Farewel and be hanged, zyrrah, as I think so thou Wilt be shortly; come, Sir Arthur.

Exeunt all but Flowerdale. Flow. A plague go with you for a karfie Rascal ; This Devon Mire Man I think is made all of Pork, His Hands made only for to heave up Packs : His Heart as fat and big as his Face, As differing far from all brave gallant Minds, As I to serve the Hogs, and drink with Hinds, As I am very near now ; well what remedy, When Money, Means, and Friends, do grow so small

, Then farewel Life, and there's an end of all. [Exit

. Enter young Flowerdale's Father, Luce like a Dutch Frow,

Civet and his Wife Frances. Civ. By my troth God a Mercy for this, good Christopher

, I thank thee for my Maid, like her very well, how dost thou like her, Frances ? Fran. In good Sadness, Tom, very well, excellent well

, She speaks so prettily, I pray what's your Name ?

Luce. My name, forsooth, be called Tanikin.

Fran. By my troth a fine Name : O Tanikin, you are ex: cellent for dressing ones Head a new Fashion.

Luce. Me fall do every ting about da Head.
Civ. What Countrywoman is she, Kester
Fath. A Dutch Womar, Sir.
Civ. Why then she is outlandish, is the not?
Fath. Ay, Sir, she is.

Fran. O then thou canst tell how to help me to Cheeks and Ears ?

Luce. Yes, Mistress, very well.

Fath. Cheeks and Ears, why, Mistress Frances, want you Checks and Ears? methinks you have very

fair ones.


Fran. Thou art a Fool indeed, Tom, thou knowest what I mean.

Civ. Ay, ay, Kefter, 'tis such as they wear a their Heads, I prithee, Kit, have her in, and shew her my House.

Fath. I will, Sir; come Tanikin.
Fran. O Tom, you have not bussed me to day, Tom.

Civ. No Frances, we must not kiss afore Folks,
God save my Franck.

Enter Delia and Artichoak. See yonder, my Sister Delia is come, welcome, good Sister.

Fran. Welcome, good Sister, how do you like the Tire of my Head? Del. Very well, Sister.

Civ. I am glad you're come, Sister Delia, to give order for Supper, they will be here soon.

Art. Ay, but if good luck had not serv’d, she had Not been here now, filching Flowerdale had like To pepper'd us, but for Master Oliver, we had been robb’d.

Del. Peace, firrah, no more. Fath. Robb’d! by whom? Art. Marry by none but by Flowerdale, he is turn'd Thief.

Civ. By my Faith, but that is not well, but God be prais'd For your Escape, will you draw near, Sister?

Fath. Sirrah, come hither; would Flowerdale, he that was my Master, a robbed you, I prethee tell me true ?

Art. Yes i'Faith, even that Flowerdale that was thy Master.

Fath. Hold thee, there is a French Crown, and speak no more of this. Art. Not I, not a word, now do I smell Knavery:

every Purse Flower dale takes, he is half : And gives me this to keep Counsel, not a word I.

Fath. Why God a Mercy,

Fran. Sister, look here, I have a new Dutch Maid,
And she speaks so fine, it would do your Heart good.

Civ. How do you like her, Sister?
Del. I like your Maid well.

Cim. Well, dear Sister, will you draw near, and give di, re&tions for Supper, Guests will be here presently,



Del. Yes, Brother, lead the way, I'll follow you.

[Exeunt all but Delia and Luce. Hark you,

Dutch Frow, a word.
Luce. Vat is your vill wit me?

Del. Sister Luce, 'tis not your broken Language,
Nor this same Habit, can disguife your Face
From I that know you; pray tell me, what means this?

Luce. Sister, I see you know me, yet be fecret;
This borrowed Shape that I have ta’en upon me,
Is but to keep my self a space unknown,
Both from my Father, and my nearest Friends;
Until I see how time will bring to pass,
The desperate Course of Master Flowerdale.

Dei. O he is worse than bad, I prethee leave him,
And let not once thy Heart to think on him.

Luce. Dopot perswade me once to such a Thought,
Imagine yet, that he is worse than nought;
Yet one good time may all that Ill undo,
That all his former Life did run into.
Therefore, kind Sister, do not disclose my Estate,
If e'er his Heart doth turn, 'tis ne'er too late.

Del. Well, feeing no Counsel canremove yourMind,
I'll not disclose you, that art wilful blind.

Luce. Delia, 'I thank you. I now must please her Eyes, My Sister Frances, neither fair nor wife.

Enter Flowerdale Solus,
Flow. On goes he that knows no end of his Journey,
I have pafs’d the very umolt bounds of Shifting,
I have no Course now but to hang my self;
I have liy’d since Yelterday two a Clock, of a
Spice-cake I had at a Burial : And for Drink,
I got it at an Ale-house among Porters, fuch as
Will bear out a Man, if he have no Mony indeed,
I mean out of their Companies, for they are Men
Of good Carriage. Who comes here
The two Cony-catchers, that won all myMony of me,
I'll try if they'll lend me any.

Enter Dick and Ralph.
What Mr. Richard, how do you?
How dost thou Ralph ? By Gad, Gentlemen, the world
Grows bare with me, will you do as much as lend


Me an Angel between you both, you know you
Won a hundred of me the other Day.

Ralph. How, an Angel? Gad damn us if we loft not every Penny within an Hour after thou wert gone.

Flow. I prethee lend me so much as will pay for my Supperz I'll pay you again, as I am a Gentleman.

Ralph. l’Faith, we have not a farthing, not a mites
I wonder at it, Mr. Flowerdale,
You will so carelefly undo your self;
Why you will lose more Mony in an Hour,
Than any honest Man spends in a Year;
For Shame betake you to some honest Trade,
And live not thus fo like a Vagabond.

Flow. A Vagabond indeed, more Villains you:
They gave me Counsel that first cozen'd me;
Those Devils first brought me to this I am,
And being chus, the first that do me wrong.
Well, yet I have one Friend left in store,
Not far from hence there dwells a Cockatrice,
One that I first put in a Sartin Gown,
And not a Tooth that dwells within her Head,
But stands me at the least in twenty Pound :
Her will I visit now my Coyn is gone,
And as I take it here dwells the Gentlewoman.
What ho, is Mistress Apricock within ?

Enter Ruffin.
Ræf. What sawcy Rascal is that which knocks so bold?
O, is it you, old Spend-thrift? are you here?
One that is turned Cozener about the Town :
My Mistress faw you, and sends this Word by me,
Either be packing quickly from the Door,
Or you shall have such a Greeting fent you straight,
As you will little like on, you had best be gone. [Exit.

Flusw. Why so, this is as it should be, being poor,
Thus art thou serv'd by a vile painted Whore.
Well, fince thy damned crew do fo abuse thee,
I'll try of honest Mer, how they will use me.

Enter an ancient Citizen.
Sir, I beseech you to take Compaflion of a Man ;
One whose Fortunes have been better than at this Instant
they seem to be : but if I might crave of you fo much little


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