625Lance. Why no more but this, first get your assurance

626made touching my daughters Joynter, that dispatched,

627we will in two daies make provision.

628Ol.Why man, chil have the writings made by tomorrow.

629Lance. To morrow be it then, let's meet at the Kings

630head in Fish-street.

632That will be nearer your Counsellor and mine.

633Lance. At the Rose be it then, the hour nine,

634He that comes last, forfeits a pinte of wine.

637Arti. Master, here is a man would speak with Ma-

638ster Oliver, he comes from young Master Flowerdale.

639Oli. Why chill speak with him, chill speak with him.

640Lance. Nay, son Oliver, I'le surely see,

641What young Flowerdale hath sent to you.

642I pray God it be no quarrel.

643Oli. Why man, if he quarrel with me, chill give him

644his hands full.

645Fath. God save you, good Sir Lancelot.

646Lance. Welcome honest friend.

648Fath. To you and yours my Master wisheth health,

649But unto you, sir, this, and this he sends:

650There is the length, sir, of his Rapier,

651And in that paper shall you know his mind.

652Oli. Here, chill meet him my friend, chill meet him.

653Lance. Meet him, you shall not meet the Ruffin, fie.

654Oli. And I do not meet him, chill give you leave to call

655Me Cut, where is't, sirrha? where is't? where is't?

656Fath. The Letter shows both time and place,

657And if you be a man, then keep your word.

658Lan. Sir, he shall not keep his word, he shall not meet.

659Fath. Why let him choose, he'll be the better known

660For a base rascal, and reputed so.

661Oli. Zirrha, zirrha: and 'twere not an old fellow, and

662sent after an arrant, chid give thee something, but chud

663be no mony: But hold thee, for I see thou art somewhat

664testorn, hold thee, there's vorty shillings, bring thy Master

665a veeld, chil give the vorty more, look thou bring him,

666chill mall him tell him, chil mar his dancing tressels, chil

667use him, he was nere so used since his dam bound his head,

668chil make him for capering any more chy vor thee.

669Fath. You seem a man, stout and resolute,

670And I will so report, what ere befall.

671Lance. And fall out ill, assure thy Master this,

672I'le make him fly the Land, or use him worse.

673Fath. My Master, sir, deserves not this of you,

674And that you'll shortly finde.

675Lan. Thy Master is an unthrift, you a knave,

676And I'le attach you first, next clap him up:

677Or have him bound unto his good behaviour.

678Oli. I wood you were a sprite if you do him any harm

679for this: And you do, chil nere see you, nor any of yours,

680while chil have eyes open: what do you think, chil be

681abaffelled up and down the town for a messel, and a

682scoundrel, no chy bor you: zirrha chil come, zay no more,

683chil come tell him.

684Fath. Well, sir, my Master deserves not this of you,

686Oli. No matter, he's an unthrift, I defie him.

687Lan. No, gentle son, let me know the place.

688Oli. Now chye vor you.

689Lan. Let me see the Note.

690Oli. Nay, chil watch you for zutch a trick.

691But if chee meet him, zo, if not, zo: chil make him know

692me, or chil know why I shall not, chil vare the worse.

693Lan. What will you then neglect my daughters love?

694Venture your state and hers, for a loose brawl?

695Oli. Why man, chil not kill him, marry chil veze him

696too, and again; and zo God be with you vather.

698Lan. Who would have thought he had bin so desperate.

699Come forth my honest servant Artichoak.

701Arti. Now, what's the matter? some brawl toward,

702I warrant you.

703Lan. Go get me thy sword bright scowred, thy buckler

704mended, O for that knave, that villain Daffidill would

705have done good service. But to thee.

706Arti. I, this is the tricks of all you Gentlemen, when

707you stand in need of a good fellow. O for that Daffidill,

708O where is he? but if you be angry, and it be but for the

709wagging of a straw, then out a doors with the knave, turn

710the coat over his ears. This is the humour of you all.

711Lan. O for that knave, that lusty Daffidill.

712Arti. Why there 'tis now: our years wages and our

713vails will scarce pay for broken swords and bucklers that

714we use in our quarrels. But I'le not fight if Daffidill

715be a tother side, that's flat.

716Lan. 'Tis no such matter man, get weapons ready, and

717be at London ere the break of day: watch near the lod-

718ging of the Devon shire Youth, but be unseen: and as he

719goes out, as he will go out, and that very early without

720doubt.

721Arti. What, would you have me draw upon him,

722As he goes in the street?

723Lance. Not for a world man, into the fields.

724For to the field he goes, there to meet the desperate

725Flowerdale:

727And marry Luce: Do'st understand me, knave?

728Arti. I, sir, I do understand you, but my young Mistris

730Lad. No more; Daffidill is a knave.

733Master Weathercock, you come in happy time, The de-

734sperate Flowerdale hath writ a Challenge: And who

735think you must answer it, but the Devon-shire man, my

736son Oliver.

737Wea. Marry I am sorry for it, good Sir Lancelot,

738But if you will be rul'd by me, we'll stay the fury.

739Lance. As how I pray?

740Wea. Marry I'le tell you, by promising young Flower-

741dale the red lipped Luce.

742Lan. I'le rather follow her unto her grave.

743Wea. I, Sir Lancelot, I would have thought so too, but

744you and I have been deceived in him, come read this

745Will, or Deed, or what you call it, I know not: Come,

746come, your Spectacles I pray.

747Lan. Nay, I thank God, I see very well.

748Wea. Marry God blesse your eyes, mine hath bin dim

749almost this thirty years.

750Lance. Ha, what is this? what is this?

751Wea. Nay there is true love indeed, he gave it to me

752but this very morn, and bad me keep it unseen from any

753one, good youth, to see how men may be deceived.

754Lan. Passion of me, what a wretch am I to hate this

755loving youth, he hath made me, together with my Luce

756he loves so dear, Executors of all his wealth.