The London Prodigal Part 20

DELIA.

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

OLIVER.

How, Flowerdale, that scoundrel? sirrah, you meeten us well: vang thee that.

FLOWERDALE.

Well, sir, I'll not meddle with you, because I have a charge.

DELIA.

Here, brother Flowerdale, I'll lend you this same money.

FLOWERDALE.

I thank you, sister.

OLIVER.

I wad you were ysplit, and you let the mezell have a penny. But since you cannot keep it, chil keep it myself.

ARTHUR.

Tis pity to relieve him in this sort, Who makes a triumphant life his daily sport.

DELIA.

Brother, you see how all men censure you, Farewell, and I pray G.o.d amend your life.

OLIVER.

Come, chill bring you along, and you safe enough from twenty such scoundrels as thick a one is. Farewell and be hanged, zirrah, as I think so thou wilt be shortly.

Come, Sir Arthur.

[Exit all but Flowerdale.]

FLOWERDALE.

A plague go with you for a karsie rascal.

This Devonshire 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 farewell life, and there's an end of all.

[Exit.]

SCENE III. Another street. Before Civet's house.

[Enter Father, Lucy like a Dutch Frau, Civet, and his wife mistress Frances.]

CIVET.

By my troth, G.o.d a mercy for this, good Christopher, I thank thee for my maid, I like her very well. How doest thou like her, Frances?

FRANCES.

In good sadness, Tom, very well, excellent well; she speaks so prettily.--I pray what's your name?

LUCY.

My name, forsooth, be called Tanikin.

FRANCES.

By my troth, a fine name. O Tanikin, you are excellent for dressing one's head a new fashion.

LUCY.

Me sall do every ting about da head.

CIVET.

What countrywoman is she, Kester?

FATHER.

A dutch woman, sir.

CIVET.

Why then she is outlandish, is she not?

FATHER.

I, sir, she is.

FRANCES.

O, then, thou canst tell how to help me to cheeks and ears?

LUCY.

Yes, mistress, very vell.

FATHER.

Cheeks and ears! why, mistress Frances, want you cheeks and ears? methinks you have very fair ones.

FRANCES.

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

CIVET.

Aye, aye, Kester, tis such as they wear a their heads. I prithee, Kit, have her in, and shew her my house.

FATHER.

I will, sir. Come, Tanikin.

FRANCES.

O Tom, you have not bussed me today, Tom.

CIVET.

No, Frances, we must not kiss afore folks. G.o.d save me, Frances,

[Enter Delia, and Artichoke.]

See yonder my sister Delia is come. Welcome, good sister.

FRANCES.

Welcome, good sister, how do you like the tier of my head?