Allen.  His love dooth not estrange me from my selfe, But doth confirme my strength with multitudes Of benefits his love will yeelde to me.

Fall.  Beware to foster such pernicious snakes Within thy bosome, which will poyson thee.

Allen.  He is a Dove, a childe, an innocent, And cannot poyson, father, though he would.

Fall.  I will be plainer:  know, Pertillos life,
Which thou doost call a dove, an innocent,
A harmlesse childe, and, and I know not what,
Will harm thee more, than any Serpent can,
I, then the very sight of Basiliskes.

Allen.  Father you tell me of a strange discourse.  How can his life produce such detriment, As Basiliskes, whose only sight is death?

Fall.  Hearken to me, and I will tell thee how;
Thou knowst his fathers goods, his houses, lands,
Have much advaunc’d our reputation,
In having but their usage for a time. 
If the boy live, then like to sencelesse beasts,
Like longd-eard Asses and riche-laden Mules,
We must resign these treasures to a boye,
And we like Asses feede on simple haye: 
Make him away, they shall continue ours
By vertue of his fathers Testament,—­
The iewels, castles, medowes, houses, lands,
Which thy small cozen should defeate thee of,
Be still thine owne, and thou advance thy selfe,
Above the height of all thine Auncestours.

Allen.  But if I mount by murther and deceite,
Iustice will thrust aspiring thoughts belowe,
And make me caper for to breake my neck,
After some wofull lamentation
Of my obedience to unlawfulnesse. 
I tell you plaine, I would not have him dye,
Might I enjoy the Soldans Emperie.

Fall.  What, wilt thou barre thy selfe of happinesse? 
Stop the large streame of pleasures which would flowe,
And still attend on thee like Servingmen? 
Preferre the life of him that loves thee not
Before thine owne and my felicitie?

Allen.  Ide rather choose to feede on carefulnesse,
To ditche, to delve, and labour for my bread,
Nay rather choose to begge from doore to doore,
Then condiscend to offer violence
To young Pertillo in his innocence. 
I know you speake, to sound what mightie share
Pertillo hath in my affection.

Fall.  In faith I do not; therefore, prethie, say, Wilt thou consent to have him made away?

Allen.  Why, then in faithe I am ashamde to think,
I had my being from so foule a lumpe
Of adulation and unthankfulnesse. 
Ah, had their dying praiers no availe
Within your hart? no, damnd extorcion
Hath left no roome for grace to harbor in! 
Audacious sinne, how canst thou make him say
Consent to make my brothers sonne away?

Fall.  Nay if you ginne to brawle, withdrawe your selfe, But utter not the motion[10] that I made, As you love me, or do regarde your life.