Lel. If you were not old
I should laugh at ye; what a vengeance ails ye
To be so childish to imagine me
A founder of old fellows? make him drink, wench,
And if there be any cold meat in the Buttery,
Give him some broken bread, and that, and rid him.
Fa. Is this a childs love? or a recompence
Fit for a Fathers care? O Lelia,
Had I been thus unkind, thou hadst not been;
Or like me miserable: But 'tis impossible
Nature should dye so utterly within thee,
And lose her promises; thou art one of those
She set her stamp more excellently on,
Than common people, as fore-telling thee,
A general example of her goodness;
Or say she could lye, yet Religion
(For love to Parents is Religious)
Would lead thee right again: Look well upon me,
I am the root that gave thee nourishment,
And made thee spring fair, do not let me perish
Now I am old and sapless.
Lelia. As I live
I like ye far worse now ye grow thus holy,
I grant you are my Father; am I therefore
Bound to consume my self, and be a Beggar
Still in relieving you? I do not feel
Any such mad compassion yet within me.
Fa. I gave up all my state to make yours thus.
Lel. 'Twas as ye ought to do, and now ye cry for't
As children do for babies back again.
Fath. How wouldst thou have me live?
Lel. I would not have ye,
Nor know no reason Fathers should desire
To live, and be a trouble, when children
Are able to inherit, let them dye,
'Tis fit, and lookt for, that they should do so.
Fa. Is this your comfort?
Lel. All that I feel yet.
Fa. I will not curse thee.