Flow. Jun. It is; what of that?

M. Flow. What? why then I have six pieces of velvet sent me, I'll give you a piece, uncle: for thus said the letter;-A piece of ash-colour, a three-piled black, a colour de roy,* a crimson, a sad green,+ and a purple: yes i' faith.

Flow. Jun. From whom should you receive this?

M. Flow. From whom? why from my father; with commendations to you, uncle; and thus he writes:-"I know (saith he) thou hast much troubled thy kind uncle, whom, God willing, at my return I will see amply satisfied;" amply, I remember was the very word: so God help me.

Flow. Jun. Have you the letter here ?

M. Flow. Yes, I have the letter here, here is the letter: no,yes-no; let me see; what breeches wore I o' Saturday? Let me see o' Tuesday, my calamanco; o' Wednesday, my peachcolour satin; o' Thursday, my velure; o' Friday, my calamanco again; o' Saturday, let me see,-o' Saturday, for in those breeches I wore o' Saturday is the letter-O, my riding breeches, uncle, those that you thought had been velvet; in those very breeches is the letter.

Flow. Jun. When should it be dated?

M. Flow. Marry, decimo tertio Septembris-no, no; decimo tertio Octobris; ay, Octobris, so it is.

Flow. Jun. Decimo tertio Octobris! and here receive I a letter that your father died in June. How say you, Kester? §

Flow. Sen. Yes, truly, Sir, your father is dead; these hands of mine holp to wind him.

M. Flow. Dead?

Flow. Sen. Ay, Sir, dead.

M. Flow. 'Sblood, how should my father come dead? Flow. Sen. I' faith, Sir, according to the old proverb: The child was born, and cried,

Became a man, after fell sick, and died.

Flow. Jun. Nay, cousin, do not take it so heavily.

M. Flow. Nay, I cannot weep you extempore: marry, some two or three days hence I shall weep without any stintance.|| But I hope he died in good memory.

Flow. Sen. Very well, Sir, and set down everything in good order; and the Catharine and Hugh, you talk'd of, I came over in; and I saw all the bills of lading; and the velvet that you talk'd of, there is no such aboard.

M. Flow. By God, I assure you, then there is knavery abroad. Flow. Sen. I'll be sworn of that: there's knavery abroad, although there were never a piece of velvet in Venice.

M. Flow. I hope he died in good estate.

Flow. Sen. To the report of the world he did; and made his will, of which I am an unworthy bearer.

M. Flow. His will! have you his will?

Flow. Sen. Yes, Sir, and in the presence of your uncle I was will'd to deliver it.

* A colour so called in honour of the king. + My velvet.

VOL. V.

An abbreviation of Christopher.

P

[Delivers the will.

+ A grave green. II. e. any stop.

Flow. Jun. I hope, cousin, now God hath blessed you with wealth, you will not be unmindful of me.

M. Flow. I'll do reason, uncle: yet i' faith I take the denial of this ten pound very hardly.

Flow. Jun. Nay, I denied you not.

M. Flow. By God you denied me directly.
Flow. Jun. I'll be judged by this good fellow.

Flow. Sen. Not directly, Sir.

M. Flow. Why, he said he would lend me none, and that had wont to be a direct denial, if the old phrase hold. Well, uncle, come, we'll fall to the legacies. [Reads.] "In the name of God, Amen.-Item, I bequeath to my brother Flowerdale, three hundred pounds, to pay such trivial debts as I owe in London. Item, to my son Mat. Flowerdale, I bequeath two bale of false dice, videlicet, high men and low men, fulloms, stop-catertraies, and other bones of function."* 'Sblood what doth he mean by this?

66

Flow. Jun. Proceed, cousin.

M. Flow. "These precepts I leave him: Let him borrow of his oath; for of his word nobody will trust him. Let him by no means marry an honest woman; for the other will keep herself. Let him steal as much as he can, that a guilty conscience may bring him to his destinate repentance:"-I think he means hanging. An this were his last will and testament, the devil stood laughing at his bed's feet while he made it. 'Sblood, what doth he think to fob off his posterity with paradoxes?

Flow. Sen. This he made, Sir, with his own hands.

M. Flow. Ay, well; nay, come, good uncle, let me have this ten pound: imagine you have lost it, or were robb'd of it, or misreckon'd yourself so much; any way to make it come easily off, good uncle.

Flow. Jun. Not a penny.

Flow. Sen. I' faith lend it him, Sir. I myself have an estate in the city worth twenty pound; all that I'll engage for him: he saith it concerns him in a marriage.

M. Flow. Ay, marry doth it. This is a fellow of some sense this: come, good uncle.

Flow. Jun. Will you give your word for it, Kester?

Flow. Sen. I will, Sir, willingly.

Flow. Jun. Well, cousin, come to me an hour hence, you shall

have it ready.

M. Flow. Shall I not fail?

Flow. Jun. You shall not, come or send.

M. Flow. Nay, I'll come myself.

Flow. Sen. By my troth, would I were your worship's man. M. Flow. What? wouldst thou serve?

Flow. Sen. Very willingly, Sir.

* In the English Rogue, P. i. p. 322, edit. 1680, we are told that "high fullums are those dice which are loaded in such a manner as seldom to run any other chance than four, five, or six; low fullums, or low men, are those which usually run one, two, or three." Stop-cater-traies were probably dice prepared in such a manner as frequently to exhibit a four and a three.

M. Flow. Why I'll tell thee what thou shalt do. Thou say'st thou hast twenty pound: go into Birchin-lane, put thyself into clothes thou shalt ride with me to Croydon fair.

Flow. Sen. I thank you, Sir, I will attend you.

M. Flow. Well, uncle, you will not fail me an hour hence.
Flow. Jun. I will not, cousin.

M. Flow. What's thy name? Kester?

Flow. Sen. Ay, Sir.

M. Flow. Well, provide thyself: uncle, farewell till anon.

[Exit M. FLOWERDALE.

Flow. Jun. Brother, how do you like your son?

Flow. Sen. I' faith, brother, like a mad unbridled colt,

Or as a hawk, that never stoop'd to lure:

The one must be tamed with an iron bit,

The other must be watch'd, or still she's wild.
Such is my son; awhile let him be so;

For counsel still is folly's deadly foe.

I'll serve his youth, for youth must have his course;

For being restrain'd, it makes him ten times worse:
His pride, his riot, all that may be named,
Time may recall, and all his madness tamed.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-The High-street in Croydon. An Inn appearing, with an open drinking booth before it.

Enter SIR LANCELOT SPURCOCK, WEATHERCOCK, DAFFODIL, ARTICHOKE, LUCE, and FRANCES.

Sir Lanc. Sirrah, Artichoke, get you home before; And as you proved yourself a calf in buying,

Drive home your fellow calves that you have bought.

Art. Yes, forsooth: Shall not my fellow Daffodil go along with me?

Sir Lanc. No, Sir, no; I must have one to wait on me.
Art. Daffodil, farewell, good fellow Daffodil.

You may see, mistress, I am set up by the halves;

Instead of waiting on you, I am sent to drive home calves. [Exit. Sir Lanc. I' faith, Franke, I must turn away this Daffodil;

He's grown a very foolish saucy fellow.

Fran. Indeed la, father, he was so since I had him : Before, he was wise enough for a foolish serving-man. Weath. But what say you to me, Sir Lancelot?

Sir Lanc. O, about my daughters ?-well, I will go forward. Here's two of them, God save them; but the third,

O she's a stranger in her course of life:

She hath refused you, Master Weathercock.

Weath. Ay, by the rood, Sir Lancelot, that she hath; but had she tried me, she should have found a man of me indeed.

Sir Lanc. Nay, be not angry, Sir, at her denial;

She hath refused seven of the worshipfull'st

And worthiest housekeepers this day in Kent:
Indeed she will not marry, I suppose.

Weath. The more fool she.

Sir Lanc. What, is it folly to love chastity ?

Weath. No, no, mistake me not, Sir Lancelot; But 'tis an old proverb, and you know it well, That women dying maids, lead apes in hell.

Sir Lanc. That is a foolish proverb and a false.

Weath. By the mass, I think it be, and therefore let it go: but who shall marry with Mistress Frances?

Fran. By my troth they are talking of marrying me, sister.
Luce. Peace, let them talk:

Fools may have leave to prattle as they walk.
Daf. Sentences* still, sweet mistress:

You have a wit, an it were your alabaster.†

Luce. I' faith and thy tongue trips trenchmore.‡
Sir Lane. No, of my knighthood, not a suitor yet,
Alas, God help her, silly girl, a fool, a very fool;
But there's the other, black-brows, a shrewd girl,
She hath wit at will, and suitors two or three;
Sir Arthur Greenshield one, a gallant knight,
A valiant soldier, but his power but poor;
Then there's young Oliver, the De'nshire§ lad,
A wary fellow, marry full of wit,

And rich by the rood; But there's a third, all air,
Light as a feather, changing as the wind;
Young Flowerdale.

Weath. O, he, Sir, he's a desperate Dick indeed;
Bar him your house.

Sir Lanc. Fie, Sir, not so: he's of good parentage.

Weath. By my fay || and so he is, and a proper ¶ man.

Sir Lanc. Ay, proper enough, had he good qualities.

Weath. Ay, marry, there's the point, Sir Lancelot; for there's an old saying:

Be he rich, or be he poe,**

Be he high, or be he low:

Be he born in barn or hall,

'Tis manners makes the man and all.

Sir Lanc. You are in the right, Master Weathercock.

Enter CIVET.

Civ. 'Soul, I think I am sure cross'd, or witch'd, with an owl. I have haunted them, inn after inn, booth after booth, yet cannot find them. Ha, yonder they are; that's she. I hope to God 'tis she: nay, I know 'tis she now, for she treads her shoe a little

awry.

Sir Lanc. Where is this inn? We are past it, Daffodil. Daf. The good sign is here, Sir, but the back gate is before. Civ. Save you, Sir. I pray may I borrow a piece of a word with you?

Daf. No pieces, Sir.

Civ. Why then the whole. I pray, Sir, what may yonder gentlewomen be?

* I. e. sayings.

+ I. e. transparent as alabaster.
§ Devonshire.

Trenchmore was a threesome reel.
Faith.
Fine.

** So in old language, moe for more

Daf. They may be ladies, Sir, if the destinies and mortality work.

Civ. What's her name, Sir?

Daf. Mistress Frances Spurcock, Sir Lancelot Spurcock's daughter.

Civ. Is she a maid, Sir?

Daf. You may ask Pluto and Dame Proserpine that: I would be loath to be riddled,* Sir ?

Civ. Is she married, I mean, Sir?

Daf. The Fates know not yet what shoemaker shall make her wedding shoes.

Civ. I pray where inn you, Sir? I would be very glad to bestow the wine of that gentlewoman.+

Daf. At the George, Sir.

Civ. God save you, Sir.

Daf. I pray your name, Sir?

Civ. My name is Master Civet, Sir.

Daf. A sweet name! God be with you, good Master Civet.

[Exit CIVET.

Sir Lanc. Ha, have we spied you, stout St. George? For all Your dragon, you had best sell us good wine

That needs no ivy-bush. Well, we'll not sit by it,

As you do on your horse: This room shall serve:-
Drawer.

Enter DRAWER.

Let me have sack for us old men :

For these girls and knaves small wines are the best.
A pint of sack,-no more.

Draw. A quart of sack in the Three Tuns.

[Exit.

Sir Lanc. A pint, draw but a pint. Daffodil, call for wine to make yourselves drink.

Fran. And a cup of small beer, and a cake, good Daffodil.

[DAFFODIL goes into the house, and returns with wine, &c. Enter M. FLOWERDALE, and FLOWERDALE SENIOR as his Servant.

M. Flow. How now? fie, sit in the open room? Now good Sir Lancelot, and my kind friend, worshipful Master Weathercock! What, at your pint? A quart for shame.

Sir Lanc. Nay, royster, by your leave we will away.

M. Flow. Come, give us some music, we'll go dance. Be gone, Sir Lancelot! what, and fair-day too?

Luce. "Twere foully done, to dance within the fair.

M. Flow. Nay, if you say so, fairest of all fairs, then I'll not dance. A pox upon my tailor, he hath spoiled me a peachcolour satin suit, cut upon cloth of silver;§ but if ever the rascal serve me such another trick, I'll give him leave, i' faith, to put me in the calendar of fools, and you, and you, Sir Lancelot,

*I. e. be sifted.

I. e. swaggerer.

† I. e. send her a present of wine.

I. e. with cloth of silver placed under all the cuts, openings, or slashes in it.