that euer I was borne Fath. Sweete mistresse doe not weepe I le sticke to you Luce. Alas my friend I know not what to do My father and my friends they haue despised me And I a wretched maid thus cast away Knowes neither where to goe nor what to say Fath. It grieues me at the soule to see her teares Thus staine the crimson roses of her cheekes Lady take comfort doe not mourne in vaine I haue a little liuing in this towne The which I thinke comes to a hundred pound All that and more shall be at your dispose I le straite goe helpe you to some strange disguise And place you in a seruice in this towne Where you shal know all yet your selfe vnknowne Come greeue no more where no helpe can be had Weepe not for him that is more worse then bad Luce. I thanke you syr Enter syr Lancelot maister Weathercocke and them Oli. Well cha a bin zerued many a sluttish tricke But such a lerripoope as thick ych was nere a sarued Lance. Son Ciuet daughter Frances beare with me You see how I am pressed downe with inward griefe About that lucklesse gyrle your sister Luce But t is fallen out with me as with many families beside They are most vnhappie that are most beloued Ciu. Father t is so t is euen fallen out so But what remedie set hand to your heart and let it passe Here is your daughter Frances and I and wee le not say Wee le bring forth as wittie children but as prettie Children as euer she was tho she had the pricke And praise for a prettie wench But father done is The mouse you le come Lance. I sonne Ciuet I le come Ciu. And you maister Oliuer Oli. I for che a vext out this veast I hill see if agan Make a better veast there Ciu. And you syr Arthur Ar. I syr although my heart be full I le be a partner at your wedding feast Ciu. And welcome all indeed and welcome come Francke are you readie Fran. Ieshue how hastie these husbands are I pray father Pray to God to blesse me Lance. God blesse thee and I doe God make thee wise Send you both ioy I wish it with wet eyes Fran. But Father shall not my sister Delia goe along with vs She is excellent good at cookery and such things Lance. Yes mary shall she Delia make you ready 〈◊〉 I am ready syr I will first goe to Greene-witch From thence to my cousen Chesterfeelds and so to London Ciu. It shall suffice good sister Delia it shall suffice But faile vs not good sister giue order to cookes and others For I would not haue my sweet Francke To soyle her fingers Fran. No by my troath not I a gentlewoman and a married Gentlewoman too to be companions to cookes And kitchin-boyes not I yfaith I scorne that Ciu. Why I doe not meane thou shalt sweete heart Thou seest I doe not goe about it well farewell too You Gods pitty M. Weathercocke we shal haue your cōpany too Wea. With all my heart for I loue good cheare Ciu. Well God be with you all come Francke Fran. God be with you father God be with you syr Arthur Maister Oliuer and maister Weathercocke sister God be with you all God be with you father God be with you euery one VVea. Why how now syr Arthur all a mort maister Oliuer how now man Cheerely syr Lancelot and merily say Who can hold that will away Lance. I shee is gone indeed poore girle vndone But when they le be selfewilled children must smart Ar. But syr that she is wronged you are the chiefest cause Therefore t is reason you redresse her wrong Wen. Indeed you must syr Lancelot you must Lance. Must who can compell me maister VVeathercock I hope I may doe what I list VVea. I grant you may you may doe what you list Oli. Nay but and you be well euisen it were not good By this vrampolnesse and vrowardnesse to cast away As pretty a dowsabell as am chould chance to see In a Sommers day I hil tell you what chall doe I hil goe spye vp and downe the towne and see if I Can heare any tale or dydings of her And take her away from thick a messell vor c ham Ashured hee le but bring her to the spoile And so var you well we shall meete at your sonne Ciuets Lance. I thanke you syr I take it very kindly Arty. To find her out I le spend my dearest blood Exit both So well I loued her to affect her good Lance. O maister Weathercocke what hap had I to force my daughter From maister Oliuer and this good knight To one that hath no goodnesse in his thought Wea. Ill lucke but what remedie Lance. Yes I haue almost deuised a remedy Young Flowerdale is shure a prisoner Wea. Shure nothing more shure Lance. And yet perhaps his Vnckle hath released him Wea. It may be very like no doubt he hath Lance. Well if he be in prison I le haue warrant To tache my daughter till the lawe be tried For I will shue him vpon couzonage Wea. Mary may you and ouerthrow him too Lance. Nay that 's not so I may chance be sco◠And sentence past with him Wea. Beleeue me so he may therefore take heede Lance. Well howsoeuer yet I will haue warrants In prison or at libertie all 's one You will helpe to serue them maister Weathercocke Exit Omnes Enter Flowerdale 〈◊〉 A plague of the diuell the diuell take the dyce The dyce and the diuell and his damme goe together Of all my hundred golden angels I haue not left me one denier A poke of come a fiue what shall I doe I can borrow no more of my credit There 's not any of my acquaintance man nor boy But I haue borrowed more or lesse off I would I knewe where to take a good purse And goe cleare away by this light I le venture for it Gods lid my sister Delia I le rob her by this hand Enter Delia and Artichoake Deli. I prethee Artichoake goe not so fast The weather is hot and I am something wearie Arti. Nay I warrant you mistresse Delia I le not tire you With leading wee le goe an extreame moderate pace Flow. Stand deliuer your purse Arti. O lord theeues theeues Exit Artichoake Flow. Come come your purse ladie your purse Dali. That voice I haue heard often before this time What brother Flowerdale become a theefe Flow. I a plague on t I thanke your father But sister come your mony come What the world must find me I am borne to liue T is not a sinne to steale when none will giue Deli. O God is all grace banisht from thy heart Thinke of the shame that doth attend this fact Flow, Shame me no shames come giue me your purse I le bind you sister least I faire the worse Deli. No bind me not hold there is all I haue And would that mony would redeeme thy