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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 God, 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 Spurcock's daughter.

UNCLE.

Ist possible?

FATHER.

Tis true, and thus I mean to curb him.

This day, brother, I will you shall arrest him:

If any thing will tame him, it must be that,

For he is ranked in mischief, chained to a life,

That will increase his shame, and kill his wife.

UNCLE.

What, arrest him on his wedding day?

That were unchristian, and an unhumane part:

How many couple even for that very day

Hath purchased 7 year's sorrow afterward?

Forbear him then today, do it tomorrow,

And this day mingle not his joy with sorrow.

FATHER.

Brother, I'll have it done this very day,

And in the view of all, as he comes from Church:

Do but observe the course that he will take.

Upon my life he will forswear the debt:

And for we'll have the sum shall not be slight,

Say that he owes you near three thousand pound:

Good brother, let it be done immediately.

UNCLE.

Well, seeing you will have it so,

Brother, I'll do it, and straight provide the Sheriff.

FATHER.

So, brother, by this means shall we perceive

What Sir Lancelot in this pinch will do:

And how his wife doth stand affected to him—

Her love will then be tried to the uttermost—

And all the rest of them. Brother, what I will do,

Shall harm him much, and much avail him too.

[Exit.]

SCENE III. A high road near London.

[Enter Oliver: afterwards Sir Arthur Greenshood.]

OLIVER.

Cham assured thick be the place, that the scoundrel appointed to meet me: if a come, zo: if a come not, zo. And che war avise, he should make a coystrell an us, ched vese him, and che vang him in hand; che would hoist him, and give it him to and again, zo chud: Who bin a there? Sir Arthur! chil stay aside.

ARTHUR.

I have dogged the Devonshire man into the field,

For fear of any harm that should befall him:

I had an inkling of that yesternight,

That Flowerdale and he should meet this morning:

Tho, of my soul, Oliver fears him not,

Yet for I'd see fair play on either side,

Made me to come, to see their valours tried.

God morrow to Master Oliver.

OLIVER.

God an good morrow.

ARTHUR.

What, Master Oliver, are you angry?

OLIVER.

Why an it be, tit and grieven you?

ARTHUR.

Not me at all, sir, but I imagine by

Your being here thus armed, you stay for some

That you should fight withall.

OLIVER.

Why, and he do, che would not dezire you to take his part.

ARTHUR.

No, by my troth, I think you need it not,

For he you look for, I think means not to come.

OLIVER.

No, and che war assur a that, ched avese him in another place.

[Enter Daffodil.]

DAFFODIL.

O Sir Arthur, Master Oliver, aye me!

Your love, and yours, and mine, sweet mistress Lucy,

This morn is married to young Flowerdale.