Nay then, thought I, 'tis time to let her go, Ans. Is't possible? I had not thought till now Enter YOUNG MASTER ARTHUR, MISTRESS ARTHUR, OLD Ful. What stir is this? let's step but out the way, And hear the utmost what these people say. O. Art. Thou art a knave, although thou be my son. Have I with care and trouble brought thee up, To be a staff and comfort to my age, A pillar to support me, and a crutch To lean on, in my second infancy, And dost thou use me thus? Thou art a knave. O. Lus. A knave, aye, marry, and an 'arrant knave, And, sirrah, by old Master Arthur's leave, Though I be weak and old, I'll prove thee one. Y. Art. Sir, though it be my father's pleasure thus To wrong me with the scorned name of knave, I will not have you so familiar, Nor so presume upon my patience. O. Lus. Speak, Master Arthur, is he not a knave? O. Art. I say he is a knave. 0. Lus. Then so say I. Y. Art. My father may command my patience, Sir, you shall find I am an honest man. O. Lus. An honest man! Y. Art. Aye, sir, so I say. O. Lus. Nay, if you say so, I'll not be against it : But, sir, you might have us'd my daughter better, Than to have beat her, spurn'd her, rail'd at her Before our faces. O. Art. Aye, therein, son Arthur, Thou shew'dst thyself no better than a knave. Y. Art. I say, again, I am an honest man; He wrongs me that shall say the contrary. O. Lus. I grant, sir, that you are an honest man, Nor will I say unto the contrary: But, wherefore do you use my daughter thus? Of loose demeanour, disobedience, or disloyalty? с 0. Art. Accuse her! here she stands; spit in her face If she be guilty, in the least, of these. Mis. Art. O, father, be more patient; if you wrong My honest husband, all the blame be mine, Because you do it only for my sake. I am his handmaid; since it is his pleasure Y. Art. If, in mine own house, I can have no peace, [exit. O. Art. Well, go to, wild oats! spendthrift! prodigal ! I'll cross thy name quite from my reck'ning book : O. Lus. And it shall scathe him somewhat of my purse: Be such an eye-sore to his sight no more! I tell thee, thou no more shalt trouble him. Mis. Art. Will you divorce whom God hath tied toge ther? Or break that knot, the sacred hand of heaven Not all my friends can make me prove his foe. O. Art. But, 'till I meet him, I will let it pass. O. Lus. 'Faith, so will I. O. Art. Daughter, farewell! with weeping eyes I part; Witness these tears, thy grief sits near my heart. O. Lus. Weeps Master Arthur? nay, then, let me cry; His cheeks shall not be wet, and mine be dry. Mis. Art. Fathers, farewell! spend not a tear for me, But, for my husband's sake, let these woes be. For when I weep, 'tis not for my own care, But fear, lest folly bring him to despair. [exeunt O. Art. and O. Lus. Y. Lus. Sweet saint! continue still this patience, For time will bring him to true penitence. Mis. Art. It is so much too dear; But you are welcome for my husband's sake ; His guests shall have best welcome I can make. Y. Lus. Than marriage, nothing in the world more com mon; Nothing more rare than such a virtuous woman. Mis. Art. My husband in this humour, well I know, [exit. Plays but the unthrift; therefore, it behoves me [she sits down to work in front of the house. Ful. Beware of blushing, sirrah, And make that serve thee as an argument, I hav't at fingers' ends who could miss the clout Having so fair a white, such steady aim; This is the upshot, now bid for the game. [Anselm advances. Ans. Fair mistress, God save you! Ful. What a circumstance doth he begin with; what an ass is he To tell her at the first that she was fair; The only means to make her to be coy! And brought her out of love quite with herself; |