Civ.

By my troth, God-a-mercy for this, good Christopher. I thank thee for my maid; I like her very well. How dost thou like her, Frances?

Fran.

In good sadness, Tom, very well, excellent well; she speaks so prettily:—I pray what's your name?

Luce.

My name, forsooth, be called Tanikin.

Fran.

By my troth a fine name. O Tanikin, you are excellent for dressing one's head a new fashion.

Luce.

Me sall do every ting about de head.

Civ.

What countrywoman is she, Kester?

Flow. Sen.

A Dutch woman, sir.

Civ.

Why then she is outlandish, is she not?

Flow. Sen.

Ay, sir, she is.

Fran.

O then thou canst tell how to help me to cheeks and ears^{2 note}.

Luce.

Yes, mistress, very well.

Flow. Sen.

Cheeks and ears! why, mistress Frances, want you cheeks and ears? methinks you have very fair ones.

Fran.

Thou art a fool indeed. Tom, thou knowest what I mean.

Civ.

Ay, ay, Kester; 'tis such as they wear a' their heads. I pr'ythee, Kit, have her in, and shew her my house.

Flow. Sen.

I will, sir. Come Tanikin.

Fran.

O Tom, you have not bussed me to-day, Tom.

Civ.

No Frances, we must not kiss afore folks. God save me, Franke. See yonder; my sister Delia is come.

Welcome, good sister.

Fran.

Welcome, good sister. How do you like the tire of my head?

Del.

Very well, sister.

Civ.

I am glad you're come, sister Delia, to give order for supper: they will be here soon.

Art.

Ay, but if good luck had not serv'd, she had not been here now. Filching Flowerdale had like to have pepper'd us: but for master Oliver, we had been robb'd.

Del.

Peace, sirrah, no more.

Flow. Sen.

Robb'd! by whom?

Art.

Marry by none but by Flowerdale; he is turn'd thief.

Civ.

By my faith, but that is not well; but God be prais'd for your escape. Will you draw near, sister?

Flow. Sen.

Sirrah, come hither. Would Flowerdale, he that was my master, have robbed you? I pr'ythee tell me true.

Art.

Yes i'faith, even that Flowerdale that was thy master.

Flow. Sen.

Hold thee; there is a French crown, and speak no more of this.

Art.

Not I, not a word.—Now do I smell knavery: in every purse Flowerdale takes, he is half; and gives me this to keep counsel:—not a word, I.

Flow. Sen.

Why God-a-mercy.

Fran.

Sister, look here; I have a new Dutch maid, and she speaks so fine, it would do your heart good.

Civ.

How do you like her, sister?

Del.

I like your maid well.

Civ.

Well, dear sister, will you draw near, and give directions for supper? Guests will be here presently.

Del.
Yes, brother; lead the way, I'll follow you. [Exeunt all but Delia and Luce.
Hark you, Dutch frow, a word.

Luce.
Vat is your vill wit me?

Del.
Sister Luce, 'tis not your broken language,

Nor this same habit, can disguise your face
From I that know you. Pray tell me, what means this.

Luce.
Sister, I see you know me; yet be secret.
This borrowed shape that I have ta'en upon me,
Is but to keep myself a space unknown,
Both from my father, and my nearest friends;
Until I see how time will bring to pass
The desperate course of master Flowerdale.

Del.
O he is worse than bad; I pr'ythee leave him;
And let not once thy heart to think on him.

Luce.
Do not perswade me once to such a thought.
Imagine yet that he is worse than naught;
Yet one hour's time^{3 note}

Del.
Well, seeing no counsel can remove your mind,
I'll not disclose you that are wilful blind.

Luce.
Delia, I thank you. I now must please her eyes,
My sister Frances' neither fair nor wise. [Exeunt.

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