rob me of her?--
Help, help! they'll rob me here, they'll rob me here!

_Enter_ MASTER BARNES _and his men_.

MR BAR. How now? what outcry's here? why, how now, woman?

MRS BAR. Why, Goursey's son, confederate[336] with this boy,
This wretch unnatural and undutiful,
Seeks hence to steal my daughter: will you suffer it?
Shall he, that's son to my arch-enemy,
Enjoy her? Have I brought her up to this?
O God, he shall not have her, no, he shall not!

MR BAR. I am sorry she knows it. [_Aside_.]--Hark ye, wife,
Let reason moderate your rage a little.
If you examine but his birth and living,
His wit and good behaviour, you will say,
Though that ill-hate make your opinion bad,
He doth deserve as good a wife as she.

MRS BAR. Why, will you give consent he shall enjoy her?

MR BAR. Ay, so that thy mind would agree with mine?

MRS BAR. My mind shall ne'er agree to this agreement.

_Enter_ MISTRESS GOURSEY _and_ COOMES.[337]

MR BAR. And yet it shall go forward:--but who's here?
What, Mistress Goursey! how knew she of this?

PHIL. Frank, thy mother!

FRAN. 'Sowns, where? a plague upon it!
I think the devil is set to cross this match.

MRS GOUR. This is the house, Dick Coomes, and yonder's [th'] light:
Let us go near. How now? methinks I see
My son stand hand in hand with Barnes his daughter.
Why, how now, sirrah? is this time of night
For you to be abroad? what have we here?
I hope that love hath not thus coupled you.

FRAN. Love, by my troth, mother, love: she loves me,
And I love her; then we must needs agree.

MRS BAR. Ay, but I'll keep her sure enough from thee.

MRS GOUR. It shall not need, I'll keep him safe enough;
Be sure he shall not graft in such a stock.

MRS BAR. What stock, forsooth? as good a stock as thine:
I do not mean that he shall graft in mine.

MRS GOUR. Nor shall he, mistress. Hark, boy; th'art but mad
To love the branch that hath a root so bad.

FRAN. Then, mother, I will graft a pippin on a crab.

MRS GOUR. It will not prove well.

FRAN. But I will prove my skill.

MRS BAR. Sir, but you shall not.

FRAN. Mothers both, I will.

MR BAR. Hark, Philip: send away thy sister straight;
Let Francis meet her where thou shalt appoint;
Let them go several to shun suspicion,
And bid them go to Oxford both this night;
There to-morrow say that we will meet them,
And there determine of their marriage. [_Aside_.]

PHIL. I will: though it be very late and dark.
My sister wil