PHIL. What say you[436] unto my persuase? MRS BAR. I say she's[437] my deadly enemy. PHIL. Ay, but she will be your friend, if you revolt. MRS BAR. The words I said! what, shall I eat a truth? PHIL. Why, hark ye, mother. FRAN. Mother, what say you? MRS GOUR. Why, this I say, she slandered my good name. FRAN. But if she now deny it, 'tis no defame. MRS GOUR. What, shall I think her hate will yield so much? FRAN. Why, doubt it not; her spirit may be such. MR GOUR. Why, will it be? PHIL. Yet stay, I have some hope. Mother, why, mother, why, hear ye[438]: Give me your hand; it is no more but thus; 'Tis easy labour to shake hands with her: Little[439] breath is spent in speaking of fair words, When wrath hath violent delivery. MR BAR. What, shall we be resolv'd? MRS BAR. O husband, stay!-- Stay, Master Goursey: though your wife doth hate me, And bears unto me malice infinite And endless, yet I will respect your safeties; I would not have you perish by our means: I must confess that only suspect, And no proof else, hath fed my hate to her. MRS GOUR. And, husband, I protest by heaven and earth That her suspect is causeless and unjust, And that I ne'er had such a vild[440] intent; Harm she imagin'd, where as none was meant. PHIL. Lo, sir, what would ye more? MR BAR. Yes, Philip, this; That I confirm him in my innocence By this large universe. MR GOUR. By that I swear, I'll credit none of you, until I hear Friendship concluded straight between them two: If I see that they willingly will do, Then I'll imagine all suspicion ends; I may be then assured, they being friends. PHIL. Mother, make full my wish, and be it so. MRS BAR. What, shall I sue for friendship to my foe? PHIL. No: if she yield, will you? MRS BAR. It may be, ay. PHIL. Why, this is well. The other I will try.-- Come, Mistress Goursey, do you first agree. MRS GOUR. What, shall I yield unto mine enemy? PHIL. Why, if she will, will you? MRS GOUR. Perhaps I will