Y. ART. My father may command my patience; But you, sir, that are but my father-in-law, Shall not so mock my reputation.
Sir, you shall find I am an honest man.
O. LUS. An honest man!
Y. ART. Ay, sir, so I say.
O. LUS. Nay, if you say so, I'll not be against it: But, sir, you might have us'd my daughter better, Than to have beat her, spurn'd her, rail'd at her Before our faces.
O. ART. Ay, therein, son Arthur, Thou show'dst thyself no better than a knave.
O. LUS. Ay, marry, did he, I will stand to it: To use my honest daughter in such sort, He show'd himself no better than a knave.
Y. ART. I say, again, I am an honest man; He wrongs me that shall say the contrary.
O. LUS. I grant, sir, that you are an honest man, Nor will I say unto the contrary: But wherefore do you use my daughter thus?
Can you accuse her of unchastity, of loose Demeanour, disobedience, or disloyalty?
Speak, what canst thou object against my daughter?
O. ART. Accuse her! here she stands; spit in her face, If she be guilty in the least of these.
MRS ART. O father, be more patient; if you wrong My honest husband, all the blame be mine, Because you do it only for my sake.
I am his handmaid; since it is his pleasure To use me thus, I am content therewith, And bear his checks and crosses patiently.
Y. ART. If in mine own house I can have no peace, I'll seek it elsewhere, and frequent it less.
Father, I'm now past one and twenty years; I'm past my father's pamp'ring, I suck not, Nor am I dandled on my mother's knee: Then, if you were my father twenty times, You shall not choose, but let me be myself.
Do I come home so seldom, and that seldom Am I thus baited? Wife, remember this!
Father, farewell! and, father-in-law, adieu!
Your son had rather fast than feast with you.
[_Exit_.
O. ART. Well, go to, wild-oats! spendthrift! prodigal!
I'll cross thy name quite from my reck'ning book: For these accounts, faith, it shall scathe thee somewhat, I will not say what somewhat it shall be.
O. LUS. And it shall scathe him somewhat of my purse: And, daughter, I will take thee home again, Since thus he hates thy fellowship; Be such an eyesore to his sight no more: I tell thee, thou no more shalt trouble him.
MRS ART. Will you divorce whom God hath tied together?
Or break that knot the sacred hand of heaven Made fast betwixt us? Have you never read, What a great curse was laid upon his head That breaks the holy band of marriage, Divorcing husbands from their chosen wives?
Father, I will not leave my Arthur so; Not all my friends can make me prove his foe.
O. ART. I could say somewhat in my son's reproof.
O. LUS. Faith, so could I.
O. ART. But, till I meet him, I will let it pass.
O. LUS. Faith, so will I.
O. ART. Daughter, farewell! with weeping eyes I part; Witness these tears, thy grief sits near my heart.
O. LUS. Weeps Master Arthur? nay, then, let me cry; His cheeks shall not be wet, and mine be dry.
MRS ART. Fathers, farewell! spend not a tear for me, But, for my husband's sake, let these woes be.
For when I weep, 'tis not for my own care, But fear, lest folly bring him to despair.
[_Exeunt_ O. ART. _and_ O. LUS.
Y. LUS. Sweet saint! continue still this patience, For time will bring him to true penitence.
Mirror of virtue! thanks for my good cheer-- A thousand thanks.
MRS ART. It is so much too dear; But you are welcome for my husband's sake; His guests shall have best welcome I can make.
Y. LUS. Than marriage nothing in the world more common; Nothing more rare than such a virtuous woman.
[_Exit_.
MRS ART. My husband in this humour, well I know, Plays but the unthrift; therefore it behoves me To be the better housewife here at home; To save and get, whilst he doth laugh and spend: Though for himself he riots it at large, My needle shall defray my household's charge.
[_She sits down to work in front of the house_.
FUL. Now, Master Anselm, to her, step not back; Bustle yourself, see where she sits at work; Be not afraid, man; she's but a woman, And women the most cowards seldom fear: Think but upon my former principles, And twenty pound to a drachm,[7] you speed.
ANS. Ay, say you so?
FUL. Beware of blushing, sirrah, Of fear and too much eloquence!
Rail on her husband, his misusing her, And make that serve thee as an argument, That she may sooner yield to do him wrong.
Were it my case, my love and I to plead, I have't at fingers' ends: who could miss the clout, Having so fair a white, such steady aim.
This is the upshot: now bid for the game.
[ANSELM _advances_.
ANS. Fair mistress, God save you!
FUL. What a circumstance Doth he begin with; what an ass is he, To tell her at the first that she is fair; The only means to make her to be coy!
He should have rather told her she was foul, And brought her out of love quite with herself; And, being so, she would the less have car'd, Upon whose secrets she had laid her love.
He hath almost marr'd all with that word fair. [_Aside_.[8]]
ANS. Mistress, God save you!
FUL. What a block is that, To say, God save you! is the fellow mad?
Once to name God in his ungodly suit.
MRS ART. You are welcome, sir. Come you to speak with me Or with my husband? pray you, what's your will?
FUL. She answers to the purpose; what's your will?
O zounds, that I were there to answer her.
ANS. Mistress, my will is not so soon express'd Without your special favour, and the promise Of love and pardon, if I speak amiss.
FUL. O ass! O dunce! O blockhead! that hath left The plain broad highway and the readiest path, To travel round about by circumstance: He might have told his meaning in a word, And now hath lost his opportunity.
Never was such a truant in love's school; I am asham'd that e'er I was his tutor.