Cun. [Fool, all] this is wrong,
This wings his pursuit, and will be before me; I am lost for ever.
Witty. No, stay, you shall not go
But with my Father, on my wit let it lie,
You shall appear a friendly assistant,
To help in all affairs, and in execution
Help your self only.
Cun. Would my belief
Were strong in this assurance.
Witty. You shall credit it,
And my wit shall be your slave, if it deceive you.
Enter Old Knight.
My Father—
Old K. Oh Sir, you are well met, where's the Knight your friend?
Cun. Sir, I think your Son has told you.
Witty. Shall I stand to tell't agen? I tell you he loves,
But not my Kinswoman, her base usage,
And your slack performance which he accuses most
Indeed, has turn'd the Knights heart upside down.
Old K. I'll curb her for't, can he be but recover'd,
He shall have her, and she shall be dutiful,
And love him as a Wife too.