Part 24 (1/2)

What do you mean by this wild course you take?

FLOWERDALE.

What do I mean? why, to live, that I mean.

FATHER.

To live in this sort? fie upon the course: Your life doth show, you are a very coward.

FLOWERDALE.

A coward? I pray, in what?

FATHER.

Why, you will borrow sixpence of a boy.

FLOWERDALE.

Snails, is there such cowardice in that? I dare borrow it of a man, I, and of the tallest man in England, if he will lend it me. Let me borrow how I can, and let them come by it how they dare. And it is well known, I might a rid out a hundred times if I would: so I might.

FATHER.

It was not want of will, but cowardice.

There is none that lends to you, but know they gain: And what is that but only stealth in you?

Delia might hang you now, did not her heart Take pity of you for her sister's sake.

Go, get you hence, least, lingering where you stay, You fall into their hands you look not for.

FLOWERDALE.

I'll tarry here, till the Dutch Frau comes, if all the devils in h.e.l.l were here.

[Exit Father.]

[Enter Sir Lancelot, Master Weatherc.o.c.k, and Artichoke.]

LANCELOT.

Where is the door? are we not past it, Artichoke?

ARTICHOKE.

Bith ma.s.s, here's one; I'll ask him. Do you hear, sir?

What, are you so proud? do you hear? which is the way to Master Civet's house? what will you not speak? O me, this is filching Flowerdale.

LANCELOT.

O wonderful, is this lewd villain here?

O you cheating Rogue, you cut-purse coni-catcher, What ditch, you villain, is my daughter's grave?

A cozening rascal, that must make a will, Take on him that strict habit--very that, When he should turn to angel--a dying grace.

I'll father in law you, sir, I'll make a will!

Speak, villain, where's my daughter?

Poisoned, I warrant you, or knocked a the head And to abuse good Master Weatherc.o.c.k, With his forged will, and Master Weatherc.o.c.k To make my grounded resolution, Than to abuse the Devons.h.i.+re gentleman: Go, away with him to prison.

FLOWERDALE.

Wherefore to prison? sir, I will not go.

[Enter Master Civet, his wife, Oliver, Sir Arthur, Father, and Uncle, Delia.]