OLD LADY

Hearts of most hard temper Melt and lament for her. Alas poor Lady, She's a stranger now again. Our content Is our best having. Yes troth, & troth; you would not be a Queen? How tastes it? Is it bitter? Forty pence, no: There was a Lady once ('tis and old Story) That would not be a Queen, that would she not For all the mud in Egypt; have you herd it? What do you think me — Beshrew me, I would, And venture Maidenhead for't, and so would you For all this spice of your Hypocrisy: You that have so fair parts of Woman on you, Have (too) a Woman's heart, which ever yet Affected Eminence, Wealth, Sovereignty; Which, to say sooth, are Blessings; and which gifts (Saving your mincing) the capacity Of your soft Chiuerell Conscience, would receive, If you might please to stretch it. 'Tis strange; a three pence bowed would hire me Old as I am, to Queen it: but I pray you, What think you of a Duchess? Have you limbs To bear that load of Title? Then you are weakly made; pluck off a little, I would not be a young Count in your way, For more then blushing comes to: If your back Cannot vouchsafe this burden, 'tis too weak Ever to get a Boy. In faith, for little England You'd venture and emballing: I my self Would for Carnarvonshire, although there longed No more to the Crown but that: Lo, who comes here? Why this it is: See, see, I have been begging sixteen years in Court (Am yet a Courtier beggarly) nor could Come pat betwixt too early, and too late For any suit of pound : and you, (o fate) A very fresh Fish here; fie, fie, fie upon This compelled fortune: have your mouth filled up, Before you open it. With your Theme, I could O're-mount the Lark: The Marchioness of Pembroke ? A thousand pounds a year, for pure respect? No other obligation? by my Life, That promises more thousands: Honours train Is longer then his fore-skirt; by this time I know your back will bear a Duchess. Say, Are you not stronger then you were? I'll not come back, the tidings that I bring Will make my boldness, manners. Now good Angels Fly over thy Royal head, and shade thy person Under their blessed wings. I, I my Liege, And of a lovely Boy: the God of heaven Both now, and ever bless her: It's a Girl Promises Boys hereafter. Sir, your Queen Desires your Visitation, and to be Acquainted with this stranger; it's as Like you, As Cherry, is to Cherry. And hundred Marks? By this light, I'll would more. And ordinary Groom is for such payment. I will have more, or scold it out of him. Said I for this, the Girl was Like to him? I'll Have more, or else say't: and now, while it's hight, I'll put it to the issue.