PHIL. I lay my life—my sister!
MR BAR. Ay, in good faith.
PHIL. Then, father, he shall have her; he shall, I swear.
MR BAR. How canst thou say so, knowing not his mind?
PHIL. All's one for that; I will go to him straight.
Father, if you would seek this seven-years'-day,
You could not find a fitter match for her;
And he shall have her, I swear he shall;
He were as good be hanged, as once deny[263] her.
I'faith, I'll to him.
MR BAR. Hairbrain, hairbrain, stay!
As yet we do not know his father's mind:
Why, what will Master Goursey say, my son,
If we should motion it without his knowledge?
Go to, he's a wise and discreet gentleman,
And that expects from me all honest parts;
Nor shall he fail his expectation;
First I do mean to make him privy to it:
Philip, this letter is to that effect.
PHIL. Father, for God's[264] sake, send it quickly, then:
I'll call your man. What, Hugh! where's Hugh, there, ho?
MR BAR. Philip, if this would prove a match,
It were the only means that could be found
To make thy mother friends with Mistress Goursey.
PHIL. How, a match! I'll warrant ye, a match.
My sister's fair, Frank Goursey he is rich;
Her[265] dowry, too, will be sufficient;
Frank's young,[266] and youth is apt to love;
And, by my troth, my sister's maidenhead
Stands like a game at tennis: if the ball
Hit into the hole, or hazard, farewell all:
MR BAR. How now, where's Hugh?