John. Since 'tis my mother's pleasure to take't well, We'll be joint suitors with her.

Clown. And I, too, good master.

Old Har. The boy's inflexible, and I obdure.

He cannot be more saucy to object

That which I would not hear, than I perverse

In yielding to a knave so obstinate.

Sus. He is your son, and of your blood the first;
Brand him not with a name so odious.
You cannot write yourself a gentleman,
But leave him of that name inheritor.

Tho' you have power to take away his means,
Deprive him both your blessing and your love,
Which methinks in a father should seem strange,
His state you may, his blood you cannot, change.
Old Har. Baited on all sides? have I been thus long
A father and a master to direct,

To be at these years pupil'd by a girl?

A beggar? one that all the wealth she has

Bears on her back; and shall I suffer this?

Whilst these, that ought to arm me with just rage,
Preach to me patience? I'll endure no more.
Come, leave them, sweet wife! Gentle sons, away!

[Exeunt.

Phil. I'll have thee yet, tho' all the world say nay.

[Exeunt.

Clown. Now, which of these parties shall I cleave to and follow? Well, now I remember myself, I'll show myself a true citizen, and stick to the stronger side.

SCENE IV.

[Exit.

The Street. Enter RAINSFORD and Young FORREST, meeting.

Young For. Pray, let me speak with you.

Rains. With me, sir?

C

Young For. With you.

Rains. Say on.

Young For. Do you not know me?

Rains. Keep off, upon the peril of thy life.

Come not within my sword's length, lest this arm

Prove fatal to thee, and bereave thy life,

As it hath done thy brother's.

Young For. Why now thou know'st me truly, by that

token,

That thou hast slain my brother. Put up, put up!

So great a quarrel as a brother's life

Must not be made a street-brawl; 'tis not fit
That ev'ry prentice should, with his shop-club,
Betwixt us play the sticklers. Sheath thy sword.

Rains. Swear thon wilt act no sudden violence,
Or this sharp sword shall still be interpos'd
'Twixt me and thy known hatred.

Young For. Sheath thy sword.
By my religion and that interest

I have in gentry, I will not be guilty
Of any base revenge.

Rains. Say on.

Young For. Let's walk.

Trust me. Let not thy guilty soul
Be jealous of my fury. This my hand

Is curb'd and govern'd by an honest heart,

Not by just anger. I'll not touch thee foully

For all the world. Let's walk.

Rains. Proceed.

Young For. Sir, you did kill my brother. Had it been

In fair and even encounter, tho' a child,

His death I had not question'd.

Rains. Is this all?

Young For. He's gone. The law is past. Your life is

clear'd;

For none of all our kindred laid against

You evidence to hang you. You're a gentleman;
And pity 'twere a man of your descent

Should die a felon's death. See, sir, thus far
We have demeanéd fairly, like ourselves.
But, think you, though we wink at base revenge,
A brother's death can be so soon forgot?
Our gentry baffled, and our name disgrac'd?
No: 'tmust not be; I am a gentleman
Well known; and my demeanour hitherto
Hath promis'd somewhat. Should I swallow this,
The scandal would outlive me. Briefly then,

I'll fight with you.

Rains. I am loath.

Young For. Answer directly,

Whether you dare to meet me on even terms;

Or mark how I'll proceed.

Rains. Say, I deny it.

Young For. Then I say thou'rt a villain, and I challenge

thee,

Where'er I meet thee next, in field or town,

Thy father's manors, or thy tenant's grange,
Saving the church, there is no privilege
In all this land for thy despised life.

No guard of friends, no nightwalks, or sly stealth,
No jealous fear, which in a murderer's eye
Keeps hourly watch, shall have the privilege,
This even and balanc'd fight, body to body;
I'll kill thee be it in thy bed, at meat,
In thy wife's arms; as thou tookést my brother,
With thy back towards me, basely. Answer me.

Rains. I'll meet with thee. The hour?

Young For. By six to-morrow morning. 'Tis your privilege T'appoint the place and weapon.

C 2

Rains. Hounslow the place: my choice of weapon this.

[Showing his sword.

Young Fer. I can except at neither. Fail the place, Or suit your weapon's length. Farewell!

Enter GOODWIN and FOSTER.

Good. Now, cousin Rainsford.

Rains. I'll so swinge my younker.

Fos. Why, who hath rais'd this storm, sir?
Rains. Wot'st thou what?

The younger Forrest parted but ev'n now,
Call'd me to question 'bout his brother's death,
And since hath challeng'd me.

Good. Challeng'd?

Rains. Challeng'd me.

Fos. Why, he's too weak for you.
Rains. Yes, I shall weak him.

My purpose is to teach the stripling sense;
An' you be honest gentlemen, stand but

Aloof to-morrow, and observe how I
Will swinge my youth about the field.

Good. An' please. Heav'n, I'll be there.

Fos. And so will I.

[Exit.

Rains. He seeks his fate. And murd'rers, once being in, Wade further till they drown. Sin pulls on sin.

[Exeunt.

ACT II. SCENE I.

Old HARDING'S House. Enter Old HARDING, Mrs. HARDING, WILLIAM, and JOHN.

Wil. 'Tis true, upon my life.

Old Har. Say what thou wilt, I'll not believe it, boy.

Wil. Do you

believe me to be

your son

William ?

Old Har. Well.

Wil. Do you believe I stand here?

Old Har. On.

Wil. That this gentlewoman is your wife?

Old Har. So.

Wil. That Jack Harding here is my brother?
Old Har. Good.

Wil. That I speak to you? that you list to me?
Do you believe anything that is to be believed?

Old Har. What of all this?

Wil. Then believe my brother Philip has married Mistress Susan. I saw them in the church together, I heard them pronounce the words together. Whether it be better, or worse, for them, I know not, but they are in for better, and worse, that I am sure.

Old Har. As sure as thou art certain this is true,

So sure I'll disinherit the proud boy,

And all the magazine, that I enjoy,
Divide 'tween you, my sons.

John. Not all, father. Alas! allow him some small legacy to live on.

Wil. If't be but a cast farm, or some poor cottage, rather than nothing. It may be he'll content himself with a little. You know something hath some savour.

Old Har. He that hath set me and my love at nothing, I'll leave him worth as little.

Mrs. H. Chide him you may, but yet not cast him off;
For fathers ought most chastise where they love.

Parents, as I have read, their rage should hide,
Where children fall through weakness, not through pride.
Old Har. They are none such to me. My vow is past ;
My life may fade, but yet my will shall last.

Enter PHILIP and SUSAN.

Wil. See, where the four bare legs that belong to a bed