SCENE II.
A room in sir Lancelot's house.
Enter Daffodil and Luce.
Daf.
Mistress! still froward? No kind looks unto
your Daffodil? Now by the gods—
-- 473 --
Luce.
Away you foolish knave; let my hand go.
Daf.
There is your hand; but this shall go with me:
My heart is thine; this is my true love's fee.
[Takes off her bracelet.
Luce.
I'll have your coat stripp'd o'er your ears for this,
You sawcy rascal.
Enter sir Lancelot and Weathercock.
Sir Lanc.
How now, maid! what is the news with you?
Luce.
Your man is something sawcy.
[Exit Luce.
Sir Lanc.
Go to, sirrah; I'll talk with you anon.
Daf.
Sir, I am a man to be talked withal; I am
no horse, I trow. I know my strength, then no more
than so.
Weath.
Ay, by the makins, good sir Lancelot; I
saw him the other day hold up the bucklers3 note
,
like an Hercules. I'faith God-a-mercy, lad, I like
thee well.
Sir Lanc.
Ay, ay, like him well. Go sirrah, fetch me a cup of wine,
That ere I part with master Weathercock,
We may drink down our farewel in French wine.
[Exit Daffodil.
Weath.
I thank you, sir; I thank you, friendly knight.
I'll come and visit you; by the mouse-foot I will4 note:
-- 474 --
In the mean time, take heed of cutting Flowerdale5 note:
He is a desperate Dick, I warrant you.
Re-enter Daffodil.
Sir Lanc.
He is, he is. Fill, Daffodil, fill me some
wine. Ha! what wears he on his arm? My daughter
Luce's bracelet? ay, 'tis the same. Ha' to you,
master Weathercock.
Weath.
I thank you, sir. Here, Daffodil; an honest
fellow, and a tall, thou art6 note. Well; I'll take
my leave good knight; and I hope to have you and
all your daughters at my poor house; in good sooth
I must.
Sir Lanc.
Thanks, master Weathercock; I shall be
bold to trouble you, be sure.
Weath.
And welcome. Heartily farewel.
[Exit Weathercock.
Sir Lanc.
Sirrah, I saw my daughter's wrong, and
withal her bracelet on your arm. Off with it, and
with it my livery too. Have I care to see my daughter
match'd with men of worship? and are you grown
so bold? Go, sirrah, from my house, or I'll whip
you hence.
Daf.
I'll not be whipp'd sir; there's your livery:
This is a servingman's reward: what care I?
I have means to trust to; I scorn service, I.
[Exit Daffodil.
Sir Lanc.
Ay, a lusty knave; but I must let him go:
Our servants must be taught what they should know7 note.
[Exit.
-- 475 --
Edmond Malone [1780], Supplement to the edition of Shakspeare's plays published in 1778 By Samuel Johnson and George Steevens. In two volumes. Containing additional observations by several of the former commentators: to which are subjoined the genuine poems of the same author, and seven plays that have been ascribed to him; with notes By the editor and others (Printed for C. Bathurst [and] W. Strahan [etc.], London) [word count] [S10911].
