EUGENIA

I'll take order with the Porter for it Lady, good night gentlemen. I warrant you Lady I shall never be troubled with dreaming of my From ̄ changed Suitor. But say deer Uncle how could you find in your heart to stay so long from me. Beshrew my heart my Lord, if you go These three hours. Come, Come, pray tell me uncle, how does my cousin Momford? But when did you see my Cousin? What means he by this tro ye, your Lo: is very dancitiue me thinks. But I pray tell me my Lord could you tell me of a thing would make me dance say you? Lord bless us, heres such a stir with your farewells. Gods precious, two or three days? why this Lord is in a marualous strange humour. Fit down sweet Uncle, i'faith I have to talk with you about great matters. But I pray tell me first, whats that would make me dance i'faith? Nay good Uncle say whats the thing you could tell me of. Why, how now Uncle did you never see me before! This is excellent. Well my Lord, since you will not tell me your secret, isle keep another from you; with whose discoue rye, you may much pleasure me, and whose conceal meant may hurt my es ate. And if you be no inder then to see me so endangered; isle be very patient of it I assure you. Ay me poor Dame, Oh you amaze me Uncle, Is this the wondrous fortune you presage? What man may miserable women trust? Oh uncle you have wounded your self in charge king me that I should shun Judgement as a monster, if it would not weep; I place the poor felicity of this world in a worthy friend, and to see him so vnwor thely revolted, I shed not the tears of my Brain, but the tears of my soul. And if ever nature made tears theffects of any worthy cause, I am sum e I now shed them worthily. How am I doubled? when my honour, and good name, two essential parts of me; would be less, and lost? In the judgement of the world. Which yet will not maintain him a week: Such kind of nobleness gives no coats of honour nor can scarce get a coat for necessity Why seeks he me then? Good Uncle be content for now shall I ne ver dream of contentment. What's the matter Hippolita? He may well be said to be of the family of Love, he does so flow in the loves of poor overthrown La die. Come on lets see. Shut it now and isle tell ye. Y'aue the worst hand that ever I saw knight have when 'tis open, one can find nothing in it, and when 'tis shut one can get nothing out ont. A good Cornish principle believe it Sir Cuttberd. Well forth my Lord. Thats precious beware indeed. Forth good Lord Tales. Well, come in my Lords, and take a bade dinner with me now, and we will all go with you at night to a better supper with the Lord, and Lady Furnifall. He's a goodly great knight indeed; and a little needle in his hand will become him prettily. But not c erso, from the Spanish needle to the Spanish pike. What wind blows you hither troe? Nay then never trust me. Oh yare a sweet uncle. Now was there ever Lord so prodigal, of his own honoured blood, and worser nity? Gods my life you go Like a cunning spokes man, man, answer uncle? what do you think me desperate of a husband I will not write that's certain. Oh yare in a mighty danger no doubt on't. I will not write i'faith. If you write no otherwise then I dictate, it will scarce prou a kind answer I be leave. He loves extremely that suffers not in love. Nay if I answer any thing. You answer? shall I set my hand to your and swear? By my faith, but you shall answer as I wood have you then. Since you needs will have my Answer, I'll Answer to the first, and last partly of his letter. I cannot but suffer you to love, if you do love. Beshrowe my lips then my Lord. Nay good my Lord hold your hand, for isle be sworn, isle not set my hand oo't. Even this my Lord, your Love being mental, needs no bodily Requital. What but in heart? You may write uncle, but if you get my hand to it, My would worser shall always sign the way to felicity. And so God prosper your Journey. Read what you have writ my Lord. Well if it want sense in the Composition, let my secretary be blamed for't, theirs my hand. Why now, more then before I pray? Remember that requital was of your own put ning it, but it shall be after my fashion I warrant you. Gods me life, 'tis not thus I hope. By my life but 'tis none of my deed then. Wh, ythis is plain dishonoured deceit. Does all your truest kindness end in law? Why, thus did false Accontius snare Cydippe. Well there you have my hand, but isle besworne I never did thing so against my will. No, no my Lord, you will have Clarence there. Is this the man that without passion loves I will on that condition. See what a pretty work he wears in his boot hose. Bought am for nothing. You speak for your kinsman the best, that ever I herd my Lord. Glowworms sir Giles will they make it burn? What shood he Court me with all else my Lord? With all my heart my Lord, if I shall be so much in debted to him. Alas we shall but wrong and trouble him. His Contemplations greet him with most welcome. Your Logical wit my Lord is able to make a nigh thing good. Come on fair Ladies I must make you both Familiar witnesses of the most strange partly And full of impudence that ere I played. I that have be so more then maiden-nice To my deer Lord and uncle not to yield By his importunate suit to his friends love In look, or almost thought; will of my self Far passed his expectation or his hope In Actium, and in person greet his friend, And comfort the poor gentleman's sick state. No but I fear me it will stretch to more Marry Madam? what shood I marry him? Gods precious Lady, know you what you say, Respect you what I am, and what he is, What the whole world wood say, & what great Lords I have refused and might as yet embrace, And speak you Like a friend, to wish me him? 'Tis well said Ladies, thus we differ then, I to the truth-wise, you to worldly men: And now sweet dams observe and excellent jest (At least in my poor jesting.) the Etl my uncle Will miss me strait, and I know his close drift Is to make me, and his friend Clarence meet By some device or other he hath plotted. Now when he seeks us round about his house And cannot find us, for we may be sure He will not seek me in his sick iends chamber, (I have at all times made his love so strange,) He straight will think, I went away displeased, Or heartily careless of his heartiest suit. And then I know there is no grief on earth Will touch his heart so much, which I will suffer To quite his late good pleasure wrought on me, For isle be sworn in motion and progress Of his friends suit, I never in my life Wrestled so much with passion or was moved To take his firm love in such elouse partly. Bold in a good caused e, then lets greet his friend, Where is this sickly gentleman at his book? Now in good troth I wood These books were burned That rapp men from their app before their time, How does my uncles friend, no other name I needs give him, to whom I give my self, Why, Clarence is your judgement bent to show A common lovers passion? let the world, That live without a heart, and is but show, stand on her empty, and empoisoned form, I know thy kindness, and have seen thy heart, Clest in my uncles free, and friendly lips And I am only now to speak and act, The rit'es endue to thy love: o I cood weep A bitter show of tears for thy sick state, I cood give passion all her blackest rites. And make a thousand vows to thy deserts, But these are common, knowledge is the bound, The seal and crown of our united minds And that is ra e, and constant, and for that, To my late written hand I give thee this, See heaven, the soul thou gavest is in this hand. This is the knot of our eternity, Which fortune, death, nor hell, shall ever lose. Come uncle shall we go to supper now? A las what ails my uncle, Ladies see. Come, come, you have abused me now I know And now you plaster me with flatteries. Oh uncle think you so, I hope I made My choice with too much Judgement to take shame Of any form I shall perform it with. Nay then I plead This goes with my choice, Some more wise then some, For only virtues choice is truest wisdom. With fred. I prithee go to my uncle the Lord Momford, and entreat him to come quicken our ears with some of his pleasant nt Spirit; This am Fowleweather as made me so melancholy, prithee make haste. Light the Lady Penelope, and the Lady Hippolita to their chambers, good night fair Ladies. What, can you not abide my maids uncle? You love to make your self worse then you are still. I wonder where you have been all this while with your sentences. By my faith but you shall my Lord, Gods pity what will become of you shortly, that you driven maids a before you, & offer to leave widows behind you, as man kindly, as if you had taken a surfeit of our Sex lately, and our very sighed turned your stomach. That were a revenge and a half, indeed. I know your rule before you utter it, Vlciscere Ini mico said sine tuo incommodo. Not to marry a poor gentleman? I my Lord such guests as you. Aye me still, in that humour? beshrowe my heart it I take any Papers from him. Here bear it back I pray. What shood she say to the backfide of a pa per. Verus honos at at mendax infamia terret. not I Lady, I hope our suitors are no fit meat for our Pages. He says well to you Hippolita. Specially where the wit of the G caps are in cham my Lord. I'st true youths, are knights fit subiec for your knaveries Do you think me a witch, Sir Cutberd? Not hear it Sir Giles.