LUCY.
I thank you, sir.
[Exeunt.]
ACT IV.
SCENE I. A room in Sir Lancelot Spurcock’s house in Kent.
[Enter Sir Lancelot, Master Weathercock and them.]
OLIVER. Well, cha a bin zerved many a sluttish trick, but such a lerripoop as thick yeh was ne’er a sarved.
LANCELOT.
Son Civet, daughter Frances, bear with me,
You see how I am pressed down with inward grief,
About that luckless girl, your sister Lucy.
But tis fallen out with me,
As with many families beside,
They are most unhappy, that are most beloved.
CIVET. Father, tis so, tis even fallen out so, but what remedy? set hand to your heart, and let it pass. Here is your daughter Frances and I, and we’ll not say, we’ll bring forth as witty children, but as pretty children as ever she was: tho she had the prick and praise for a pretty wench. But, father, done is the mouse: you’ll come?
LANCELOT.
Aye, son Civet, I’ll come.
CIVET.
And you, Master Oliver?