MRS BAR. Thou sett'st thy son to scoff and mock at me:
Is't not sufficient I am wrong'd of thee,
But he must be an agent to abuse me?
Must I be subject to my cradle too?
O God, O God, amend it!
[Exit.
MR BAR. Why, how now, Philip? is this true, my son?
PHIL. Dear father, she is much impatient:
Ne'er let that hand assist me in my need,
If I more said than that she thought amiss
To think that you were so licentious given;
And thus much more, when she inferr'd it more,
I swore an oath you lov'd her but too well:
In that as guilty I do hold myself.
Now that I come to more considerate trial,
I know my fault: I should have borne with her:
Blame me for rashness, then, not for want of duty.
MR BAR. I do absolve thee; and come hither, Philip:
I have writ a letter unto Master Goursey,
And I will tell thee the contents thereof;
But tell me first, think'st thou Frank Goursey loves thee?
PHIL. If that a man devoted to a man,
Loyal, religious in love's hallowed vows—
If that a man that is sole laboursome
To work his own thoughts to his friend's delight,
May purchase good opinion with his friend,
Then I may say, I have done this so well,
That I may think Frank Goursey loves me well.
MR BAR. 'Tis well; and I am much deceived in him,
And if he be not sober, wise, and valiant.
PHIL. I hope my father takes me for thus wise,
I will not glue myself in love to one
That hath not some desert of virtue in him:
Whate'er you think of him, believe me, father,
He will be answerable to your thoughts
In any quality commendable.
MR BAR. Thou cheer'st my hopes in him; and, in good faith,
Thou'st[262] made my love complete unto thy friend:
Philip, I love him, and I love him so,
I could afford him a good wife, I know.
PHIL. Father, a wife!
MR BAR. Philip, a wife.