PHYLLIS

Stay Ursula, have you those futes of Ruffs, Those stomachers, and that fine piece of Lawn, Marked with the Letters C C. and S. If your forgetfulness cause any defect, You're Like to pay for't, therefore look unto it. 'Tis good; but stay, give me thy hand my girl, 'Tis somewhat dark, come, let us help each other: She passed her word one of her gentlemen Should meet us at the bridge, and thats not far, I muse they are not come, I do assure thee, Were I not much beholding to her Ladyship For many kindnesses: Mile-end, should stand This gloomy night unvisited for us. But come, me thinks I may discern the bridge. And see a man or two, in very deed Her word, her love and all is honourable. Sir, I do thank you for this taken pains, That as your worthy Lady promised me, We now enjoy your wished company. 'Tis honourably done. That way, alas sir no. What mean you Gentlemen? Look to the box Ursula. Thanks, honest friend, who from the gates of death Hath set our virgin souls at liberty. I do, kind Sir, and think my self much bound To him above, to thee that treads this ground, And for this aid, I'll ever honour thee; My honour you have saved redeemed it home: Which were't not done, by this time had been gone. I'll tell you sir; but let us leave this place, And onward on our way. He did, he did, and freed us once from thrall. But now the second time they wrought his fallen. First get we hence away, and as we go, Kind gentleman, our Fortune's you shall know. No more now for Gods sake, let us hence. Your rude behaviour scarce offers you welcome. That is a thought beyond your reach to know. On what acquaintance? then might you deem me found, If (as you say) love be at my command. I'll know him well first, for that friend may flatter. That's a question. I partly have a guess of yonder Gentleman, His name is Master Golding as I take it. Sour, it may be so. Two contraries, and so be we. I am sorry for it since you seem my friend. Then had I a hard heart. I'faith your brother is a proper man. Even what you please. Not, to my knowledge. He is a very very proper man. The man does dote pray God he hits his way. I'faith i'faith. Your brother Ferdinand hath vowed as much, Nam more, he swears what man so ere he be, Presumest to be corrival in his love, He will revenge it as and injury, And cloth the thief in basest obloquy. Two brother's drowned in love, I and the third For all his outward habit of neglect, If I judge rightly if I did not dream, Hath dipped his foot too in Loves scalding stream. Well, let them plead and perish if they will; Cripple, my heart is thine, and shall be still. Exit. Yonder's his shop, Oh now you gods above Pity poor Phillis heart, that melts in love; Instruct the Cripple to find out my love, Which I will shadow under the conceit Of my invention for this piece of work; Oh teach him how to yield me love again, A little little love, a dram of kind affection, His many virtues are my true direction: By your leave M. Drawer. My cause of coming is not unknown to you, Here is be spoken work which must be wrought With expedition, I pray have care of it; The residue I refer to your direction: Only this hankercher, a young Gentlewoman, Wished me acquaint you with her mind herein: In one corner of the same, place wanton love, Drawing his bow shooting and amorous dart, Opposite against him and arrow in a heart, In a third corner picture forth disdain, A cruel fate unto a loving vain: In the fourth draw a springing Laurel tree, Circled about with a ring of poesy: and thus it is: Love wounds the heart and conquers fell disdain, Love pities love, seeing true love in pain: Love seeing Love how faithful Love did breath, At length impalà love with a Laurel wreathe. Love wounds the heart and conquers fell disdain, Love pities love, seeing true love in pain: Love seeing Love how faithful Love did breath, At length impalà love with a Laurel wreathe. Thus you have herd the Gentlewoman's mind, I pray be careful that it be well done: And so I leave you, more I feign would say, But shame forbids and calls me hence away. Exit. You would not sir: had I the yard in hand, Idem measure your pate for this delusion, And by my maiden chastity I swear, Unless Reach for the yard, and the boy stay her hand. You're best to brave me in a taunting humour. Wilt please you open the door? where Ursula? O heeres good stuff, my back's no sooner turned But she must needs be gadding, and where I pray? On great occasions, sir, I doubt it not. What lack you Gentlemen? My shop you mean sir, there you may have choice Of Lawns, or Cambricks, Ruffs well wrought, Shirts, Fine falling bans of the Italian cutwork, Ruffs for your hands, wast-cotes wrought with silk, Nightcaps of gold, or such Like wearing linen, Fit for the Chapman of what ere degree. What hath the Tailor played his partly so well, That with my gown you are so far in love? That argues then, you do not see my shape, How comes it then you are in love with it? O short lived praise! even now I was as fair As any thing; now fouler nothing. Dissembling men, what maid will credit them? You counsel well sir, I think the Gentleman Comes but to whet his wit, and 'tis but needs; 'Tis blunt enough, he may ride far vpon't. A fine word in a Gentleman's mouth; T'were good your back were towards me, There can I read better content, then in the face of lust. What am I, you, Cipher, parrenthesis of words, Stall-troubler, prater, what fit I here for nought? Bestow your lustful courtships on your minions, This place holds none; you and your companion Get you down the stairs, or I protest I'll make this squared walk too botte for you. Had you been as you seemed in outward show, Honest Gentlemen, such terms of vild abuse Had not been proffered to virginity; But Swains will quickly show their base descent. Nay sure a maid, unless her thoughts deceive her. God speed you well: sirrah boy. What, would that Porter any thing with me? In these extremes what shall become of me? I pray you give me respite to consider How to digest these impositions, You have imposed a business of such weight, Pray God your daughter may discharge her self. Yea yonder sits the wonder of mine eye; I have not been the first whom destiny Hath thwarted thus; imperious Love, Either withdraw the shaft that wounds my heart, Or grant me patience to endure my smart: Remorceless love, had any but thy self Been privy to my direful passion, How I consume and waste my self in love, They would have been, yea much more pitiful: But all avails not; demanding for my work Shall be a means to have some conference. Good morrow to you, is my handkerchief done? How sweetly tunes the accent of his voice! O, do not blame me, dearest love alive, Though thus I dote in my affection; I toil, I labour, and I feign would thrive, And thrive I may if thou wouldst give direction: Thou art the star whereby my course is led, Be gracious then, bright sun, or I am dead. For me it is. There is no groves more pleasant unto me, Then to be still in thy society. For to be short, you cannot fancy me: O cruel word, more hateful then pale death, O, would to God it would conclude my breath. Doubt not thereof, or if he do not, alls one, So you but grant to my affection. My wealth shall raise thee up. Tut, I will bear with that. By humble suit I will redress the same. I take thee at thy word, proud of thy service, But yet no servant shalt thou be of mine, I will serve thee, command, and isle obey: This does my soul more good, yea, ten times more Then did thy harsh denial harm before, Let us embrace Like two united friends, Here love begins, and former hatred ends. You have your answer, trouble me no more. I am resolved, and, sir you know my mind. Here sits my Love, within whose lovely breast Lives my content, and all my pleasures rest, And for a further confirmation, Which to approve, even in sighed of both you here present, I give my hand, and with my hand, my heart, My self, and all to him; and with this ring I'll wed my self. Now gentle love, all that I have to say, Is to entreat you seek without delay, My father's kind consent, for thou hast mine, And though he storm yet will I still be thine; Make trial then, 'tis but thy labour lost, Though he deny thee, it requires no cost. God, and good fortune go with thee, farewell. Exit. I take you at your word; it is no pain To die for love, and then revive again. Help me derre father, Oh help me Gentlemen, This is some spirit, driven him from my sighed. Hence foul deformity. Nor thou nor he, shall my companion be, If Cripples dead, the living seem to haunt, I'll neither of either, therefore I say avant; Help, me father. But will my father then applaud my choice? And will these worthy Gentlemen be pleased, How ever my dislike or liking prove? I must confess you all have taken pains, And I can give but all for that pains taken, And all my all, is but a little love, And of a little who can make division, I would I knew what would content you all. If then I give what either if you crave, Though not what you desire will it suffice. And as a friend you have it. And as your friend, I vow, to love you while I live, as do now. And thou shalt have thy wish, take all my store, My love my self. Why how now sirrah, can you find nought to do, But waste the parchment in this idle sort? Your mistress! in good time: then sir it seems Your duty cannot stoop but to her lewre: Sir, I will make you know, that in his absence You shall account to my demand, your mistress And your mistress will is thus, and thus yowl do: But answer to the motion I have made, Or you shall feel you have another mistress now: Speak, why when I say? Porter, is this true? Or art thou hired to this, I prithee tell me. I thank thee Porter, and thank Love withal, That thus hath wrought the tyrant Goldings fallen, He once scorned Love, jested at wounded hearts, Challenge almighty beauty, railed at passion, And is he now caught by the eyes and heart? Now by Diana's milk white veil I swear, The goddess of my maiden chaste desires. I am as glad of it as glad may be, And I will see him, if but to laugh at him, And torture him with jests; Fiddle, along, When we return, if they do send for me, I'll arm my self with flouts and cruelty. God have the glory, in perfect health she is. Father, I understand you not. Dear Parents, you confound me with your words, I pray what mean these hight persuasions? A little respite fits my resolution, They walk. Those Gentles sue too late, there is another, Of better worth, though not of half their wealth, What though deformed, his virtue mends that miss; What though not rich, his wit does better gold, And my estate shall add unto his wants, I am resolved (good father, and deer mother,) Phillis does choose a Cripple, and none other; But yet I must dissemble. I pray a word in private. In all the duty that a child can show, The love that to a father it does owe; I yield my self to be at your command, And vow to wed no man but Ferdinand. But if you please, at your departure hence, You may enforce dislike to cloud your brow, To avoid my mother's anger and suspicion. Mother, you have, for when I well consider A mother's care unto her deer bought child, How tenderly you nurcde and brought me up, I could not be so much unnatural As to refuse the love you proffer me, Especially being for my chiefest good; Therefore when married I intend to be, My loyal husband shall be Anthony. Forsooth isle follow you. Am not I a good child think you, To play with both hands thus against my parents? Well, 'tis but a trick of youth: say what they will, I'll love the Cripple, and will hate them still. Exit. A golden Golding, 'tis a good conceit. That golden Golding is but loath some dross, Nor is it gold that I so much esteem; Dust is the richest treasure that we have, Nor is the beauty of the fairest one, Of higher price or value unto me, Than is a lump of poor deformity. Father, you know my mind, and what I said, Which if you grant not, I will rest a maid. Enter Fid. As you respect the welfare of your child, Dear father, let me speak with him. Unhappy Phillis, and unfortunate. Life of my living body, if thou go, Though not alive take me hence dead with woe. she sounds Time may do much, what I intend to do I mean to pause upon.