The London Prodigal – Act Four, Scene Two

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Enter FLOWERDALE.

 FLOWERDALE
A plague of the devil!  The devil take the dice!  The dice, and the devil and his dam go together.  Of all my hundred golden angels, I have not left me one denier.  A pox of “come, a five!”  What shall I do?  I can borrow no more of my credit.  There not any of my acquaintance, man, nor boy, but I have borrowed more or less off.  I would I knew where to take a good purse, and go clear away.  By this light, I’ll venture for it.  God’s lit, my sister Delia!  I’ll rob her, by this hand.

Enter DELIA and ARTICHOKE.

 DELIA
I prithee, Artichoke, go not so fast.
The weather is hot, and I am something weary.

ARTICHOKE
Nay, I warrant you, Mistress Delia, I’ll not tire you with leading.  We’ll go an extreme moderate pace.

FLOWERDALE
Stand, deliver your purse!

ARTICHOKE
Oh lord, thieves, thieves!                                                                               [Exit.

FLOWERDALE
Come, come, your purse, lady, your purse.

DELIA
That voice I have heard often before this time.
What, brother Flowerdale become a thief?

FLOWERDALE
Aye, a plague on’t, I thank your father.  But, sister, come, your money, come!  What,
The world must find me, I am born to live,
‘Tis not a sin to steal when none will give.

DELIA
Oh God, is all grace banished from thy heart?
Think of the shame that doth attend this fact.

FLOWERDALE
Shame me no shame.  Come, give me your purse.
I’ll bind you, sister, lest I fare the worse.

DELIA
No, bind me not!  Hold, there is all I have,
And would that money would redeem thy shame.

Enter OLIVER, SIR ARTHUR, and ARTICHOKE.

 ARTICHOKE
Thieves, thieves, thieves!

OLIVER
Thieves?  Where, man?  Why, how now, Mistress Delia?
Ha you a liked to bin a robbed?

DELIA
No, Master Oliver.  ‘Tis Master Flowerdale.  He did but jest with me.

OLIVER
How, Flowerdale, that scoundrel?  Sirrah, you meeten us well.  Vang thee that.

FLOWERDALE
Well, sir, I’ll not meddle with you, because I have a charge.

DELIA
Here, brother Flowerdale, I’ll lend you this same money.

FLOWERDALE
I thank you, sister.

OLIVER
I wad you were ysplit and you let the mezell have a penny.  But since you cannot keep it, chil keep it myself.

ARTHUR
‘Tis pity to relieve him in this sort,
Who makes a triumphant life his daily sport.

DELIA
Brother, you see how all men censure you.
Farewell, and I pray God amend your life.

OLIVER
Come, chill bring you along, and you safe enough from twenty such scoundrels as thick a one is.  Farewell, and be hanged, zirrah, as i think so thou wilt be shortly.  Come, Sir Arthur.                                              [Exeunt all but FLOWERDALE.

FLOWERDALE
A plague go with you for a karsie rascal!
This Devonshire man, I think, if made all of pork.
His hands made only for to heave up packs;
His heart as fat and big as his face;
As differing far from all brave gallant minds
As I to serve the hogs, and drink with hinds,
As I am very near now.  Well, what remedy?
When money, means, and friends do grow so small
Then farewell life, and there’s an end of all.                                                  [Exit.

Proceed to the next scene

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