MR BAR. Let's hear your reason, for your will is great. MRS BAR. Why, for I will not. MR BAR. Is all your reason "for I will not," wife? Now, by my soul, I held ye for more wise, Discreet, and of more temp'rature in sense, Than in a sullen humour to affect That woman's[247] will--borne, common, scholar phrase: Oft have I heard a timely-married girl, That newly left to call her mother mam, Her father dad: but yesterday come from "That's my good girl, God send thee a good husband!" And now being taught to speak the name of husband, Will, when she would be wanton in her will, If her husband ask'd her why, say "for I will." Have I chid men for[248] [an] unmanly choice, That would not fit their years? have I seen thee Pupil such green young things, and with thy counsel Tutor their wits? and art thou now infected With this disease of imperfection? I blush for thee, ashamed at thy shame. MRS BAR. A shame on her that makes thee rate me so! MR BAR. O black-mouth'd rage, thy breath is boisterous, And thou mak'st virtue shake at this high storm! She is[249] of good report; I know thou know'st it. MRS BAR. She is not, nor I know not, but I know That thou dost love her, therefore think'st her so; Thou bear'st with her, because she bears with thee. Thou may'st be ashamed to stand in her defence: She is a strumpet, and thou art no honest man To stand in her defence against thy wife. If I catch her in my walk, now, by Cock's[250] bones, I'll scratch out both her eyes. MR BAR. O God! MRS BAR. Nay, never say "O God" for the matter: Thou art the cause; thou bad'st her to my house, Only to blear the eyes of Goursey, did'st not? But I will send him word, I warrant thee, And ere I sleep too, trust upon it, sir. [_Exit_. MR BAR. Methinks this is a mighty fault in her; I could be angry with her: O, if I be so, I shall but put a link unto a torch, And so give greater light to see her fault. I'll rather smother it in melancholy: Nay, wisdom bids me shun that passion; Then I will study for a remedy. I have a daughter,--now, heaven invocate, She be not of like spirit as her mother! If so, she'll be a plague unto her husband, If that he be not patient and discreet, For that I hold the ease of all such trouble. Well, well, I would my daughter had a husband, For I would see how she would demean herself In that estate; it may be, ill enough,-- And, so God shall help me, well-remembered now! Frank Goursey is his father's son and heir: A youth that in my heart I have good hope on; My senses say a match, my soul applauds The motion: O, but his lands are great, He will look high; why, I will strain myself To make her dowry equal with his land. Good faith, and 'twere a match, 'twould be a means To make their mothers friends. I'll call my daughter, To see how she's dispos'd to marriage.-- Mall, where are ye? _Enter_ MALL. MALL. Father, here I am. MR BAR. Where is your mother?