HONOUR

A Wife the happiest state? It cannot be. That trouble already may be passed. By Thy ight, I never herd one speak so scum lly, Utter such S ale wit, and pronounce so ill. But to you, My Lady Honour, and my Mistress, The happiness of your wishes. Did you ever Hear one talk ustian Like a Butcher thus? Come these are daily slanders that you raise, On our infirm and unresisting Sex, You never me I am sure with such a Lady. Nay perhaps taught her, many of those Husbands Are base enough To live vpon't. O fie upon ye, I dare swear you lie. You men are all soul mouthed, I warrant, you Talk thus of me and other Ladies here, Because we keep the City. No I will never marry. May I believe this? But if you should prove false. Nay never unhang Your sword, except you mean to hang your self: Why where have you been drinking? sfoot you talk Like one of these same rambling boys, That reign in Turnebull-street. Indeed my knowledge, is but speculative Not practic there, I have it by Relation, From such observers as your self deer Servant, I must profess, I did think well of thee, But get thee from my ght, I never more Will hear or see thee, but will hate thee deadly, As a man enemy, or a woman turned. Ladies come forth, see Sir what Courtesy You have done to me, a strange praise of you Had newly left my lips, joust, as you entered, And how you have deserved it, with your carriage? Villain, thou hast hurt mine honour to these friends, For what can they imagine but some ill Hath passed betwixt us by thy broad discourse? Were my case theirs, by Virgin Chastity, I should condemn them: hence, depart my sighed. If one man could be good, this had been he. See here comes all your suitors, and your Husband, And oome for Laughter, here's the Lord Feesimple, What Gentlewoman do's he bring along? Why how now my Lord: a preferrer of Gentle women to service Like and old knitting woman? where hath She dwelled before. Pins are as good, prick him, prick him But on my faith it mightily overseen of your father, not to bring you up to foils, or if he had bound you Prentice to a Cutler or and Ire-monger. Was e' e now. In troth Madam exceeding well I, if you be pro vided, pray let me have her. This is our Landlord, Master Seldom, And exceeding wise Citizen, a very sufficient understanding man, and exceeding rich. Let all things most impossible change now. O perjured man! oaths are but words I see. But wherefore should not we that think we love Upon full merit, that same worth once ceasing Surcea e our love to, and find new desert? Alas we cannot, love's a pit, which, when We fallen into we never get out again, And this same horrid news which me assaults I would forget, love blanches blackest faults: O! what path shall I tread for remedy? But darkest shades, where love with death does lie. I came but this morning, Sir. Like to a turtle, that hath lost her mate, Drooping she sits, her grief Sir cannot speak, Had it a voice articulate, we should know How, and for what she sufters; and perhaps, (But t'is unlikely) give her Comfort Sir, W ping she sits, and all the found comes from her, Is Like the murmur of a silver Brook, Which her tears truly, would make there about her, Sat she in any hollow continent. Sir, you know, And would to God I did not know my self. Sir, I dare swear, she did presume, no words Nor dangers, had been powerful to restrain Your coming to her, when she gave the charge— But are you married truly? The gloves she ha returned you Sir by me, And prays you give them to some other Lady That you'll deceive next, and be e jured to. Sure you have wronged her Sir, she bade me tell you, She never thought goodness dwelled in many men, But what there was of goodness in the world, She thought you had it all, but now she sees The jewel she esteemed is counterfeit That, you are but a common man, your self, A traitor to her, and her virtuous love; That all men are betrayers and their breasts As full of dangerous gulfs, as is the S , Where any woman thinking to find Harb r, She and her honour are precipitated, And never to be brought with safety off: Ahlas my hapless Lady, desolate, Distressed, forsaken Virgin. Who hath one tear, And would not sau't from all occasions, From Brother's slaughters, and from mother's death's To spend it here, for my Lady; But Sir my Lady did come und me beg To see your wife, that I may bore to her The sad report, what creature could make you Untie the h nd-fast plighted unto her. By the God of Love, She's a fair Creature, but faith should be fairer. My Lady, Gentle Mistress, one that thought She had some interest in this Gentleman, (Who now is only yours) Commanded m To kiss your white hand, and to figh and weep, And wish you that content she should have had In the fr ition of her Love you hold, She and me say, God give you joy, to both; Yet this withal (if you were married) No one, her footsteps ever more should me e, Nor see her face, but in a winding sheet. Loves blessing light upon thy gentle soul, Men rail at women Mistress, but to is we Are false and cruel, ten times more unkind, You are smoother far, and of a softer mind: Sir, I have one request more. 'is, that you would vouchsafe to entertain me, My fee e do tremble under me, to bear My bo j back unto my uncouth Lady, To assure her grief; what heart so hard, would owe A tongue, to tell so sad a tale to her? Ahlas, I dare not look upon her eyes, Where wronged love, its Like the Basilisque, And sure would kill me for my dire report, Or rather should not I appear Like death, When every word I speak shot through her heart, More mortally than his v sparing dart. Good Sir be pacified, i'll go, i'll run Many a mile to find your sister out; She never was so desperate of grace, By violence to rob her self of life, And so her soul in danger; comfort Sir, She's but retired somewhere on my life. O do not burst me joy, that modesty Would let me show my self to finish all. O hold; Sir, you dishonour much your brother, To counsel him against hospitality, To strike in his own house. O wretched Maid, whose sword can I pray for? But by the others lose, I must find death, O odious brother, if he kill my love, O bloody Love, if he should kill my brother; Despair on both sides of my discontent, Tell's me no safety rests but to prevent. Sir, t'is most true and in this shall you be unlike to other Citizens that arrest To undo Gentlemen: your clemency here perchance saves two lives, one from the others sword, The other from the Laws; this morn they fight, And though your debtor be a Lord, yet should he Miscarry, certainly your debt were lost. Sir, I do. Away with him, away with him. Your staying Sir, is in vain, for my Lord Proudly, Just at his taking horse to meet you here, At Seldomes suit the Citizen, was arrested Upon and Actium of two hundred pounds, I saw it Sir, t'is true. O Master, hold your hand, my Lord hold yours, Or let your swords meet in this wretched breast, Yet you are both well, what blood you have lost Give it as for the injury you did, and now be friends, O I S eet my Lord, my brother do not force me, To break my faith or to a loathed bed. Well, as you please my Lord, you are witness, whatsoever before Hath passed betwixt us: thus I do undo. Were not I mad to think thou couldst love me That wouldst have slave my Brother? Thou art my example, I'll kiss thee once, farewell for ever, come my Lord, now Match me, with whom you please, a tumbler. I must do this, else had they fought again. How full of ghastly wounds this letter shows, o, o. Convey me to my bed send for a Priest And a Physician, your Bride I fear, In stead of Epithalamious shall need A Dirge, or Epitaph, o led me in, My body die for my souls perjured sin. Nay, all the freedom that a virgin hath Is much to be preferred. Who would endure The humours of so insolent a Thing As is a husband? Which of all the Herd Runs not possessed with some notorious vice, Drinking or whoring, fighting, Jealousy, Even of a Page at twelve, or of a Groom, That rubs horse-heals? Is it not daily seen, Men take wives, but to dress their meat, to wash And starch their linen: for the other matter Of lying with them, that's but when they please: And whatsoever the joy be of the bed, The pangs that follow procreation Are hideous, or you wives have gulled your husbands With your loud shriekings, and your deathful throes. A Wife or Widow to a Virgins life? "A widow is a garment worn threadbare, Selling at second hand, Like Brokers beware. But let us speak of things the present time Make happy to us, and see what is best. I have a servant then the crown of men, The fountain of Humanity, the prize Of every virtue, Moral and Divine; Young, valiant, learned, wellborn, rich and shaped As if wise Nature when she fashioned him, Had meant to give him nothing but his form, Yet all additions are conferred on him, That may delight a woman: this same youth To me hath sacrificed his heart, yet I Have checked his suit, laughed at his worthy service, Made him the exercise of my cruelty, While constant as the Sun, for all these clouds His love goes on. O stay, my Lord, behold your sister here Bleeding by your hand Servant see your mistress Turned to thy servant running by thy Horse, Whose means it was to have prevented this, but all in vain.