_Enter Father._ Now Sir, what is your business? pray be short; for I have other Matters of more moment to call me from ye. _Fa._ If you but look upon me like a Daughter And keep that love about ye that makes good A Fathers hope, you'l quickly find my business, And what I would say to you, and before I ask, will be a giver: say that sleep, I mean that love, or be but num'd within ye, The nature of my want is such a searcher, And of so mighty power, that where he finds This dead forgetfulness, it works so strongly, That if the least heat of a childs affection Remain unperish'd, like another nature, It makes all new again; pray do not scorn me, Nor seem to make your self a greater business Than my relieving. _Lel._ If you were not old I should laugh at ye; what a vengeance ails ye To be so childish to imagine me A founder of old fellows? make him drink, wench, And if there be any cold meat in the Buttery, Give him some broken bread, and that, and rid him. _Fa._ Is this a childs love? or a recompence Fit for a Fathers care? O _Lelia_, Had I been thus unkind, thou hadst not been; Or like me miserable: But 'tis impossible Nature should dye so utterly within thee, And lose her promises; thou art one of those She set her stamp more excellently on, Than common people, as fore-telling thee, A general example of her goodness; Or say she could lye, yet Religion (For love to Parents is Religious) Would lead thee right again: Look well upon me, I am the root that gave thee nourishment, And made thee spring fair, do not let me perish Now I am old and sapless. _Lelia._ As I live I like ye far worse now ye grow thus holy, I grant you are my Father; am I therefore Bound to consume my self, and be a Beggar Still in relieving you? I do not feel Any such mad compassion yet within me. _Fa._ I gave up all my state to make yours thus. _Lel._ 'Twas as ye ought to do, and now ye cry for't As children do for babies back again. _Fath._ How wouldst thou have me live? _Lel._ I would not have ye, Nor know no reason Fathers should desire To live, and be a trouble, when children Are able to inherit, let them dye, 'Tis fit, and lookt for, that they should do so. _Fa._ Is this your comfort? _Lel._ All that I feel yet. _Fa._ I will not curse thee. _Lel._ If you do I care not. _Fa._ Pray you give me leave to weep. _Lel._ Why pray take leave, If it be for your ease. _Fa._ Thy Mother dyed, Sweet peace be with her, in a happy time.