The London Prodigal Part 10

Come forth, my honest servant Artichoke.

[Enter Artichoke.]

ARTICHOKE.

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

LANCELOT.

Go get me thy sword bright scoured, thy buckler mended.

O for that knave, that villain Daffodil would have done good service. But to thee.

ARTICHOKE.

Aye, this is the tricks of all you gentlemen, when you stand in need of a good fellow. O for that Daffodil, O where is he? but if you be angry, and it be but for the wagging of a straw, then: out a doors with the knave, turn the coat over his ears. This is the humour of you all.

LANCELOT.

O for that knave, that l.u.s.ty Daffodil.

ARTICHOKE.

Why, there tis now: our year's wages and our vails will scarce pay for broken swords and bucklers that we use in our quarrels. But I'll not fight if Daffodil be a tother side, that's flat.

LANCELOT.

Tis no such matter, man. Get weapons ready, and be at London ere the break of day: watch near the lodging of the Devonshire youth, but be unseen: and as he goes out, as he will go out, and that very early without doubt--

ARTICHOKE.

What, would you have me draw upon him, as he goes in the street?

LANCELOT.

Not for a world, man: into the fields; for to the field he goes, there to meet the desperate Flowerdale. Take thou the part of Oliver my son, for he shall be my son, and marry Lucy. Doest understand me, knave?

ARTICHOKE.

Aye, sir, I do understand you, but my young mistress might be better provided in matching with my fellow Daffodil.

LANCELOT.

No more; Daffodil is a knave: That Daffodil is a most notorious knave.

[Exit Artichoke.]

[Enter Weatherc.o.c.k.]

Master Weatherc.o.c.k, you come in happy time. The desperate Flowerdale hath writ a challenge: And who think you must answer it, but the Devonshire man, my son Oliver?

WEATHERc.o.c.k.

Marry, I am sorry for it, good Sir Lancelot, But if you will be ruled by me, we'll stay the fury.

LANCELOT.

As how, I pray?

WEATHERc.o.c.k.

Marry, I'll tell you: by promising young Flowerdale the red lipped Lucy.

LANCELOT.

I'll rather follow her unto her grave.

WEATHERc.o.c.k.

Aye, Sir Lancelot, I would have thought so too, but you and I have been deceived in him: come read this will, or deed, or what you call it, I know not. Come, come, your spectacles I pray.

LANCELOT.

Nay, I thank G.o.d, I see very well.

WEATHERc.o.c.k.

Marry, bless your eyes, mine hath been dim almost this thirty years.

LANCELOT.

Ha, what is this? what is this?

WEATHERc.o.c.k.

Nay, there is true love, indeed: He gave it to me but this very morn, And bid me keep it unseen from any one.

Good youth, to see how men may be deceived!

LANCELOT.

Pa.s.sion of me, what a wretch am I To hate this loving youth: he hath made me, Together with my Lucy he loves so dear, Executors of all his wealth.

WEATHERc.o.c.k.

All, all, good man; he hath given you all.

LANCELOT.

Three ships now in the straits & homeward bound, Two Lordships of two hundred pound a year, The one in Wales, the other in Glostershire: Debts and accounts are thirty thousand pound; Plate, money, jewels, 16 thousand more; Two housen furnished well in Cole-man street: Beside whatsoever his Uncle leaves to him, Being of great demeans and wealth at Peckham.

WEATHERc.o.c.k.

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

LANCELOT.

I have done him wrong, but now I'll make amends, The Devonshire man shall whistle for a wife: He marry Lucy! Lucy shall be Flowerdale's.

WEATHERc.o.c.k.

Why, that is friendly said.

Let's ride to London and prevent their match, By promising your daughter to that lovely lad.

LANCELOT.

We'll ride to London:--or it shall not need, We'll cross to Dedfort-strand, and take a boat.

Where be these knaves? what, Artichoke? what, Fop?

[Enter Artichoke.]

ARTICHOKE.

Here be the very knaves, but not the merry knaves.

LANCELOT.

Here, take my cloak, I'll have a walk to Dedford.