than any way condemn them.

FATHER.
Nay, mistake me not, brother, for tho I slur them over now,
as things slight and nothing, his crimes being in the bud, it
would gall my heart, they should ever reign in him.

FLOWERDALE.
Ho! who's within? ho!

[Flowerdale knocks within.]

UNCLE.
That's your son, he is come to borrow more money.

FATHER.
For Godsake give it out I am dead; see how he'll take it.
Say I have brought you news from his father. I have here
drawn a formal will, as it were from my self, which I'll
deliver him.

UNCLE.
Go to, brother, no more: I will.

FLOWERDALE.
[Within.] Uncle, where are you, Uncle?

UNCLE.
Let my cousin in there.