FLOWERDALE.
Hang thee, her friends and father altogether.
FATHER.
Yet part with something to provide her lodging.
FLOWERDALE. Yes, I mean to part with her and you, but if I part with one angel, hang me at a post. I’ll rather throw them at a cast at dice, as I have done a thousand of their fellows.
FATHER.
Nay, then, I will be plain, degenerate boy.
Thou hadst a father would have been ashamed.
FLOWERDALE.
My father was an ass, an old ass.
FATHER.
Thy father? proud, licentious villain!
What, are you at your foils? I’ll foil with you.
LUCY.
Good sir, forbear him.
FATHER.
Did not this whining woman hang on me,
I’d teach thee what it was to abuse thy father:
Go! hang, beg, starve, dice, game, that when all is gone,
Thou mayest after despair and hang thyself.
LUCY.
O, do not curse him.
FATHER.
I do not curse him, and to pray for him were vain;
It grieves me that he bears his father’s name.