angry women of Abington.
And make him seek for chāge.
Phi. O change your minde
My father beares more cordiall loue to you.
My father beares more cordiall loue to you.
Mi. B. Thou liest, thou liest, for he loues Gourseys wife, not me.
Phil. Now I sweare mother you are much too blame,
I durst be sworne he loues you as his soule.
I durst be sworne he loues you as his soule.
Mi. Bar. Wilt thou be pampered by affection?
Will nature teach thee such vilde periurie?
Wilt thou be sworne, I forlorne, carelesse boy?
And if thou swearst, I say he loues me not.
Will nature teach thee such vilde periurie?
Wilt thou be sworne, I forlorne, carelesse boy?
And if thou swearst, I say he loues me not.
Phil. He loues ye but too well I sweare,
Vnlesse ye knew much better how to vse him.
Vnlesse ye knew much better how to vse him.
Mi. Bar. Doth he so sir? thou vnnaturall boy,
Too well sayest thou, that word shall cost thee somwhat,
O monstrous, haue I brought thee vp to this?
Too well, O vnkinde, wicked and degenerate,
Hast thou the heart to say so of thy mother?
Well, God will plague thee sort, I warrant thee,
Out on thee villaine, fie vpon thee wretch,
Out of my sight, out of my sight I say.
Too well sayest thou, that word shall cost thee somwhat,
O monstrous, haue I brought thee vp to this?
Too well, O vnkinde, wicked and degenerate,
Hast thou the heart to say so of thy mother?
Well, God will plague thee sort, I warrant thee,
Out on thee villaine, fie vpon thee wretch,
Out of my sight, out of my sight I say.
Phil. This ayre is pleasant, and doth please me well,
And here I will stay.
And here I will stay.
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?
Must I be subiect to my cradle too? O God, o God amēd it.
Ist not sufficient I am wrongd of thee?
But he must be an agent to abuse me?
Must I be subiect to my cradle too? O God, o God amēd it.
M. Bar. Why how now Phillip, is this true my sonne?
Phil. Deare father she is much impatient:
Nere let that hand assist me in my need,
If I more said, then that she thought amisse,
To thinke that you were so licentious giuen,
And thus much more, when she inferd it more,
I swore an oath you lou'd her but too well,
In that as guiltie I do hold my selfe,
Now that I come to more considerate triall,
I know my fault, I should haue borne with her,
Blame me for rashnesse, then not for want of dutie.
Nere let that hand assist me in my need,
If I more said, then that she thought amisse,
To thinke that you were so licentious giuen,
And thus much more, when she inferd it more,
I swore an oath you lou'd her but too well,
In that as guiltie I do hold my selfe,
Now that I come to more considerate triall,
I know my fault, I should haue borne with her,
Blame me for rashnesse, then not for want of dutie.
M. Bar.
