FATHER. Somewhat to do it is meet and convenient;
Wilt thou then give thy diligent endeavour
To let thy youth unhonestly be spent,
And do as poor knaves, which jaxes[311] do scour?
For I do not see that any good art,
Or else any honest science or occupation,
Thou wilt be content to have a part,
After thy father's mind and exhortation.
SON. Ha, ha, ha, ha, labour in very deed!
God send him that life which stands in need:
There be many fathers that children have,
And yet not make the worst of them a slave,
Might not you of yourself be well ashamed.
Which would have your son thither constrained?
FATHER. I would not have thee driven to that succour,
Yet for because the scriptures declare,
That he should not eat, which will not labour,
Some work to do it must be thy care.
SON. Father, it is but a folly with you to strive,
But yet notwithstanding I hope to thrive.
FATHER. That this thine intent may take good success,
I pray God heartily of his goodness.
SON. Well, well, shall I in few words rehearse
What thing doth most my conscience pierce.
FATHER. Therewith I am, son, very well contented.
SON. Yea, but I think that ye will not be pleased.
FATHER. Indeed, peradventure it may so chance.
SON. Nay, but I pray ye, without any perchance,
Shall not my request turn to your grievance?
FATHER. If it be just and lawful, which thou dost require.
SON. Both just and lawful, have ye no fear.
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