Tere. What, hath my father done this injurie?
There, there, my thoughts accord to say tis so.
I will deny him then, hee's not my father;
Hee's not my friend will envie Cicero.
Tul. Wrong not thy self.
Teren. What heavie string doost thou devide[282] upon?
Wrong not him, wrong not me, wrong not thy selfe.
Where didst thou learne that dolefull mandrake's note
To kill the hearers? Tully, canst thou not
Indure a little danger for my love,
The fierie spleene of an angrie Father,
Who like a storme will soon consume it self?
I have indurde a thousand jarring houres
Since first he did mistrust my fancies aime,
And will indure a thousand thousand more
If life or discord either live so long.
Tul. The like will I for sweete Terentia.
Feare not, I have approoved armour on,
Will bide the brunt of popular reproach
Or whatsoever.
Tere. Enough, Tully, we are discovered.
Enter[283] Flavia.
Fla. Yfaith,[284] are ye at it? what, is there never a loving teare shed on either side? nor you? nor you? Tullies [eyes] are red, come, come, ye fooles, be more breefe. I would have buried three husbands, before youle be married.
Tul. Why lives Flavia a Virgin still?
Fla. Because, I haue vow'd virginitie til I can get a husband.
Teren. Why, Flavia, you haue many suitors.