Scene IV.

Clitipho alone.

What partial judges of all sons are fathers! Who ask gray wisdom from our greener years, And think our minds should bear no touch of youth; Governing by their passions, now kill'd in them, And not by those that formerly rebell'd. If ever I've a son, I promise him He shall find me an easy father; fit To know, and apt to pardon his offenses! Not such as mine, who, speaking of another, Shows how he'd act in such a case himself: Yet when he takes a cup or two too much, Oh, what mad pranks he tells me of his own: But warns me now "to draw from others' faults A profitable lesson for myself." Cunning old gentleman! he little knows, He pours his proverbs in a deaf man's ear. The words of Bacchis, Give me, Bring me, now Have greater weight with me: to whose commands, Alas! I've nothing to reply withal; Nor is there man more wretched than myself. For Clinia here (though he, I must confess, Has cares enough) has got a mistress, modest, Well-bred, and stranger to all harlot arts: Mine is a self-will'd, wanton, haughty madam, Gay, and extravagant; and let her ask Whate'er she will, she must not be denied; Since poverty I durst not make my plea. This is a plague I have but newly found, Nor is my father yet appris'd of it.