SON. If Demosthenes and Tully were present truly,
They could not print[308] it within my head [more] deeply.
FATHER. Yet, by thy father's will and intercession,
Thou shalt be content that thing to pardon.
SON. Command what ye list, that only excepted,
And I will be ready your mind to fulfil,
But whereas I should to the school have resorted,
My hand to the palmer[309] submitting still,
I will not obey ye therein, to be plain,
Though with a thousand strokes I be slain.
FATHER. Woe is me, my son, woe is me!
This heavy and doleful day to see.
SON. I grant indeed I am your son;
But you my father shall not be,
If that you will cast me into that prison,
Where torn in pieces ye might me see.
FATHER. Where I might see thee torn and rent?
O Lord, I could not such a deed invent!
SON. Nay, by the mass, I hold[310] ye a groat,
Those cruel tyrants cut not my throat:
Better it were myself did slay,
Than they with the rod my flesh should flay.
Well, I would we did this talk omit,
For it is loathsome to me every whit.
FATHER. What trade then, I pray thee, shall I devise,
Whereof thy living at length may arise?
Wilt thou follow warfare, and a soldier be 'ppointed,
And so among Troyans and Romans be numbered?
SON. See ye not, masters, my father's advice?
Have ye the like at any time heard?
To will me thereto he is not wise,
If my years and strength he did regard;
Ye speak worse and worse, whatsoever ye say;
This manner of life is not a good way,
For no kind of office can me please,
Which is subject to wounds and strokes always.
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