The London Prodigal Part 13

LANCELOT.

You say true, and indeed I have heard more than at this time I will speak.

FLOWERDALE.

You say well.

LANCELOT.

Slanders are more common than truths, Master Flowerdale: but proof is the rule for both.

FLOWERDALE.

You say true; what do you call him hath it there in his third canton.

LANCELOT.

I have heard you have been wild: I have believed it.

FLOWERDALE.

Twas fit, twas necessary.

LANCELOT.

But I have seen somewhat of late in you, that hath confirmed in my an opinion of goodness toward you.

FLOWERDALE.

Yfaith, sir, I am sure I never did you harm: some good I have done, either to you or yours, I am sure you know not; neither is it my will you should.

LANCELOT.

Aye, your will, sir.

FLOWERDALE.

Aye, my will, sir? sfoot, do you know ought of my will?

BeG.o.d, and you do, sir, I am abused.

LANCELOT.

Go, Master 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 set aside, go with me presently: And where you should fight a b.l.o.o.d.y battle, you shall be married to a lovely lady.

FLOWERDALE.

Nay but, Sir Lancelot--

LANCELOT.

If you will not embrace my offer, yet a.s.sure your self thus much, I will have order to hinder your encounter.

FLOWERDALE.

Nay, but hear me, Sir Lancelot.

LANCELOT.

Nay, stand not you upon imputative honour. Tis merely unsound, unprofitable, and idle inferences: your business is to wed my daughter, therefore give me your present word to do it. I'll go and provide the maid, therefore give me your present resolution, either now or never.

FLOWERDALE.

Will you so put me to it?

LANCELOT.

Aye, afore G.o.d, either take me now, or take me never. Else what I thought should be our match, shall be our parting; so fare you well forever.

FLOWERDALE.

Stay: fall out what may fall, my love is above all: I will come.

LANCELOT.

I expect you, and so fare you well.

[Exit Sir Lancelot.]

FATHER.

Now, sir, how shall we do for wedding apparel?

FLOWERDALE.

By the ma.s.s, that's true: now help, Kit; The marriage ended, we'll make amends for all.

FATHER.

Well, no more, prepare you for your bride, We will not want for clothes, what so ere betide.

FLOWERDALE.

And thou shalt see, when once I have my dower, In mirth we'll spend full many a merry hour: As for this wench I not regard a pin, It is her gold must bring my pleasures in.

[Exit.]

FATHER.

Ist possible, he hath his second living, Forsaking G.o.d, himself to the devil giving?

But that I knew his mother firm and chaste, My heart would say my head she had disgraced: Else would I swear he never was my son, But her fair mind so foul a deed did shun.

[Enter Uncle.]

UNCLE.

How now, brother, how do you find your son?

FATHER.

O brother, heedless as a libertine, Even grown a master in the school of vice, One that doth nothing but invent deceit: For all the day he humours up and down, How he the next day might deceive his friend.

He thinks of nothing but the present time: For one groat ready down, he'll pay a shilling, But then the lender must needs stay for it.

When I was young, I had the scope of youth, Both wild, and wanton, careless and desperate: But such made strains as he's possessed withal, I thought it wonder for to dream upon.

UNCLE.

I told you so, but you would not believe it.

FATHER.

Well, I have found it, but one thing comforts me: Brother, tomorrow he's to be married To beauteous Lucy, Sir Lancelot Spurc.o.c.k's daughter.

UNCLE.

Ist possible?

FATHER.