Mi. Bar. Wilt thou, stubborne villaine?
Enter M. Bar.
M. Bar. How now, whats the matter?
Mi. Bar. Thou setst thy sonne to scoffe and mocke at me:
Ist not sufficient I am wrongd of thee,
But he must be an agent to abuse me? 270
Must I be subject to my cradle too?
O God, O God amend it!
[Exit.]
M. Ba. Why, how now, Phillip? is this true, my sonne?