SCENE II. A room in Sir Lancelot’s house.
[Enter Daffodil.]
DAFFODIL.
Mistress, still froward? No kind looks
Unto your Daffodil? now by the Gods—
LUCY.
Away, you foolish knave, let my hand go.
DAFFODIL.
There is your hand, but this shall go with me:
My heart is thine, this is my true love’s fee.
LUCY.
I’ll have your coat stripped o’er your ears for this,
You saucy rascal.
[Enter Lancelot and Weathercock.]
LANCELOT.
How now, maid, what is the news with you?
LUCY.
Your man is something saucy.
[Exit Lucy.]
LANCELOT.
Go to, sirrah, I’ll talk with you anon.
DAFFODIL.
Sir, I am a man to be talked withal,
I am no horse, I tro:
I know my strength, then no more than so.
WEATHERCOCK.
Aye, by the matkins, good Sir Lancelot,
I saw him the other day hold up the bucklers,
Like an Hercules. Yfaith, God a mercy, lad,
I like thee well.
LANCELOT.
Aye, I like him well: go, sirrah, fetch me a
cup of wine,
That ere I part with Master Weathercock,
We may drink down our farewell in French wine.
WEATHERCOCK.
I thank you, sir, I thank you, friendly knight,
I’ll come and visit you, by the mouse-foot I will:
In the meantime, take heed of cutting Flowerdale.
He is a desperate dick, I warrant you.
LANCELOT. He is, he is: fill, Daffodil, fill me some wine. Ha, what wears he on his arm? My daughter Lucy’s bracelet. Aye, tis the same.—Ha to you, Master Weathercock.
WEATHERCOCK. I thank you, sir: Here, Daffodil, an honest fellow and a tall thou art. Well, I’ll take my leave, good knight, and hope to have you and all your daughters at my poor house; in good sooth I must.
LANCELOT. Thanks, Master Weathercock, I shall be bold to trouble you, be sure.
WEATHERCOCK.
And welcome heartily; farewell.
[Exit Weathercock.]
LANCELOT. Sirrah, I saw my daughter’s wrong, and withal her bracelet on your arm: off with it, and with it my livery too. have I care to see my daughter matched with men of worship, and are you grown so bold? Go, sirrah, from my house, or I’ll whip you hence.
DAFFODIL.
I’ll not be whipped, sir, there’s your livery.
This is a servingman’s reward: what care I?
I have means to trust to: I scorn service, I.
[Exit Daffodil.]
LANCELOT.
Aye, a lusty knave, but I must let him go,
Our servants must be taught what they should know.
[Exit.]