Do but say he shall hear from you.
LANCELOT.
Yet, gentleman, howsoever I prefer
This Devonshire suitor, I'll enforce no love;
My daughter shall have liberty to choose
Whom she likes best; in your love suit proceed:
Not all of you, but only one must speed.
WEATHERCOCK.
You have said well: indeed, right well.
[Enter Artichoke.]
ARTICHOKE.
Mistress, here's one would speak with you. My
fellow Daffodil hath him in the cellar already: he
knows him; he met him at Croyden fair.
LANCELOT.
O, I remember, a little man.
ARTICHOKE.
Aye, a very little man.
LANCELOT.
And yet a proper man.
ARTICHOKE.
A very proper, very little man.
LANCELOT .
His name is Monsieur Civet.
ARTICHOKE.
The same, sir.
LANCELOT.
Come, Gentlemen, if other suitors come,
My foolish daughter will be fitted too:
But Delia my saint, no man dare move.
[Exeunt all but young Flowerdale and Oliver,
and old Flowerdale.]
FLOWERDALE.
Hark you, sir, a word.
OLIVER.
What haan you to say to me now?
FLOWERDALE.
Ye shall hear from me, and that very shortly.
OLIVER.
Is that all? vare thee well, chee vere thee not
a vig.
[Exit Oliver.]
FLOWERDALE.
What if he should come now? I am fairly dressed.
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