The London Prodigal

by Unknown

SCENE IV. The same.

[Enter Sir Lancelot and Oliver.]

OLIVER.
And tyt trust to it, so then.

LANCELOT.
Assure your self,
You shall be married with all speed we may:
One day shall serve for Frances and for Lucy.

OLIVER. Why che would vain know the time, for providing wedding raiments.

LANCELOT. Why, no more but this: first get your assurance made, touching my daughter’s jointer; that dispatched, we will in two days make provision.

OLIVER.
Why, man, chil have the writings made by tomorrow.

LANCELOT. Tomorrow be it then: let’s meet at the king’s head in fish street.

OLIVER.
No, fie, man, no, let’s meet at the Rose at Temple-Bar,
That will be nearer your counsellor and mine.

LANCELOT.
At the Rose be it then, the hour nine:
He that comes last forfeits a pint of wine.

OLIVER.
A pint is no payment, let it be a whole quart or nothing.

[Enter Artichoke.]

ARTICHOKE. Master, here is a man would speak with Master Oliver: he comes from young Master Flowerdale.

OLIVER.
Why, chill speak with him, chill speak with him.

LANCELOT. Nay, son Oliver, I’ll surely see what young Flowerdale hath sent to you. I pray God it be no quarrel.

OLIVER.
Why, man, if he quarrel with me, chill give him, his hands full.

[Enter old Flowerdale.]

FATHER.
God save you, good Sir Lancelot.

LANCELOT.
Welcome, honest friend.

FATHER.
To you and yours my master wisheth health,
But unto you, sir, this, and this he sends:
There is the length, sir, of his rapier,
And in that paper shall you know his mind.

OLIVER.
Here, chill meet him, my vrend, chill meet him.

LANCELOT.
Meet him! you shall not meet the ruffian, fie.

OLIVER. And I do not meet him, chill give you leave to call me cut; where ist, sirrah, where ist? where ist?

FATHER.
The letter shows both the time and place,
And if you be a man, then keep your word.

LANCELOT.
Sir, he shall not keep his word, he shall not meet.

FATHER.
Why, let him choose, he’ll be the better known
For a base rascal, and reputed so.

OLIVER. Zirrah, zirrah: and tweare not an old fellow, and sent after an arrant, chid give thee something, but chud be no money: But hold thee, for I see thou art somewhat testorne; hold thee, there’s vorty shillings: bring thy master a veeld, chil give thee vorty more; look thou bring him: chil mall him, tell him, chill mar his dauncing tressels, chil use him, he was ne’er so used since his dam bound his head; chill make him for capyring any more, chy vor thee.

FATHER.
You seem a man, stout and resolute,
And I will so report, what ere befall.

LANCELOT.
And fall out ill, assure your master this,
I’ll make him fly the land, or use him worse.

FATHER.
My master, sir, deserves not this of you,
And that you’ll shortly find.

LANCELOT.
Thy master is an unthrift, you a knave,
And I’ll attach you first, next clap him up
Or have him bound unto his good behavior.

OLIVER. I would you were a sprite, if you do him any harm for this. And you do, chill ne’er see you, nor any of yours, while chill have eyes open: what, do you think, chil be abaffled up and down the town for a messell and a scoundrel? no, chy vor you: zirrah, chil come; zay no more, chil come, tell him.

FATHER.
Well, sir, my Master deserves not this of you,
And that you’ll shortly find.

[Exit.]

LANCELOT.
No matter, he’s an unthrift; I defy him.
Now, gentle son, let me know the place.

OLIVER.
No, chy vore you.

LANCELOT.
Let me see the note.

OLIVER. Nay, chill watch you for zutch a trick. But if che meet him, zoe, if not, zoe: chill make him know me, or chill know why I shall not, chill vare the worse.

LANCELOT.
What, will you then neglect my daughter’s love?
Venture your state and hers, for a loose brawl?

OLIVER. Why, man, chill not kill him; marry, chill veze him too, and again; and zoe God be with you, vather. What, man, we shall meet tomorrow.

[Exit.]

LANCELOT.
Who would a thought he had been so desperate.
Come forth, my honest servant Artichoke.

[Enter Artichoke.]

ARTICHOKE.
Now, what’s the matter? some brawl toward, I warrant you.

LANCELOT.
Go get me thy sword bright scoured, thy buckler mended.
O for that knave, that villain Daffodil would have done
good service. But to thee.

ARTICHOKE. Aye, this is the tricks of all you gentlemen, when you stand in need of a good fellow. O for that Daffodil, O where is he? but if you be angry, and it be but for the wagging of a straw, then: out a doors with the knave, turn the coat over his ears. This is the humour of you all.

LANCELOT.
O for that knave, that lusty Daffodil.

ARTICHOKE. Why, there tis now: our year’s wages and our vails will scarce pay for broken swords and bucklers that we use in our quarrels. But I’ll not fight if Daffodil be a tother side, that’s flat.

LANCELOT. Tis no such matter, man. Get weapons ready, and be at London ere the break of day: watch near the lodging of the Devonshire youth, but be unseen: and as he goes out, as he will go out, and that very early without doubt—

ARTICHOKE. What, would you have me draw upon him, as he goes in the street?

LANCELOT. Not for a world, man: into the fields; for to the field he goes, there to meet the desperate Flowerdale. Take thou the part of Oliver my son, for he shall be my son, and marry Lucy. Doest understand me, knave?

ARTICHOKE. Aye, sir, I do understand you, but my young mistress might be better provided in matching with my fellow Daffodil.

LANCELOT.
No more; Daffodil is a knave:
That Daffodil is a most notorious knave.

[Exit Artichoke.]

[Enter Weathercock.]

Master Weathercock, you come in happy time. The desperate Flowerdale hath writ a challenge: And who think you must answer it, but the Devonshire man, my son Oliver?

WEATHERCOCK.
Marry, I am sorry for it, good Sir Lancelot,
But if you will be ruled by me, we’ll stay the fury.

LANCELOT.
As how, I pray?

WEATHERCOCK. Marry, I’ll tell you: by promising young Flowerdale the red lipped Lucy.

LANCELOT.
I’ll rather follow her unto her grave.

WEATHERCOCK. Aye, Sir Lancelot, I would have thought so too, but you and I have been deceived in him: come read this will, or deed, or what you call it, I know not. Come, come, your spectacles I pray.

LANCELOT.
Nay, I thank God, I see very well.

WEATHERCOCK. Marry, bless your eyes, mine hath been dim almost this thirty years.

LANCELOT.
Ha, what is this? what is this?

WEATHERCOCK.
Nay, there is true love, indeed:
He gave it to me but this very morn,
And bid me keep it unseen from any one.
Good youth, to see how men may be deceived!

LANCELOT.
Passion of me, what a wretch am I
To hate this loving youth: he hath made me,
Together with my Lucy he loves so dear,
Executors of all his wealth.

WEATHERCOCK.
All, all, good man; he hath given you all.

LANCELOT.
Three ships now in the straits & homeward bound,
Two Lordships of two hundred pound a year,
The one in Wales, the other in Glostershire:
Debts and accounts are thirty thousand pound;
Plate, money, jewels, 16 thousand more;
Two housen furnished well in Cole-man street:
Beside whatsoever his Uncle leaves to him,
Being of great demeans and wealth at Peckham.

WEATHERCOCK.
How like you this, good knight? how like you this?

LANCELOT.
I have done him wrong, but now I’ll make amends,
The Devonshire man shall whistle for a wife:
He marry Lucy! Lucy shall be Flowerdale’s.

WEATHERCOCK.
Why, that is friendly said.
Let’s ride to London and prevent their match,
By promising your daughter to that lovely lad.

LANCELOT.
We’ll ride to London:—or it shall not need,
We’ll cross to Dedfort-strand, and take a boat.
Where be these knaves? what, Artichoke? what, Fop?

[Enter Artichoke.]

ARTICHOKE.
Here be the very knaves, but not the merry knaves.

LANCELOT.
Here, take my cloak, I’ll have a walk to Dedford.

ARTICHOKE. Sir, we have been scouring of our swords and bucklers in your defence.

LANCELOT. Defence me no defence! let your swords rust, I’ll have no fighting: Aye, let blows alone; bid Delia see all things be in readiness against the wedding. We’ll have two at once, and that will save charges, Master Weathercock.

ARTICHOKE.
Well, we will do it, sir.

[Exit Omnes.]