No More Learning

I take my leaue at once.

Exit Rosse.

Wife. Sirra, your Fathers dead,
And what will you do now? How will you liue?
Son. As Birds do Mother

Wife. What with Wormes, and Flyes?
Son. With what I get I meane, and so do they

Wife. Poore Bird,
Thou'dst neuer Feare the Net, nor Lime,
The Pitfall, nor the Gin

Son. Why should I Mother?
Poore Birds they are not set for:
My Father is not dead for all your saying

Wife. Yes, he is dead:
How wilt thou do for a Father?
Son.
Nay how will you do for a Husband?
Wife. Why I can buy me twenty at any Market

Son. Then you'l by 'em to sell againe

Wife. Thou speak'st withall thy wit,
And yet I'faith with wit enough for thee

Son. Was my Father a Traitor, Mother?
Wife. I, that he was

Son. What is a Traitor?
Wife. Why one that sweares, and lyes

Son. And be all Traitors, that do so

Wife. Euery one that do's so, is a Traitor,
And must be hang'd

Son. And must they all be hang'd, that swear and lye?
Wife. Euery one

Son.