GRATIANA

What news from Cour son Carlo? On that religious Lady! Leave for what? Much? Most sure he did! No. He was to wise to trust me with his thoughts. you are welcome sir? I think my self much honoured, that he pleases, To tank me in his thoughts. I, save their honour? Marry but I would not. Desired? O fie, fie, the riches of the world cannot hire a more there to such a most unnatural task. Oh heavens! this overcomes me? It is too strong for me, men know that know us, We are so weak their words can overthrow us, He touched me nearly made my virtues bore When his tongue struck upon my poor estate. I that's the comfort on't. I these are they? That enchant our sex, These are the means that govern our affections,—that woman Will not be troubled with the mother long, That sees the comfortable shine of you, I blush to think what for your sakes I'll do! Are you as proud to me as coy to him? Do you not know me now? I to the Duke: daughter youde scorn to think ath' Devil and you were there once. What means my sons what will you murder me? Ohlare sons turned monsters? help. Are you so barbarous to set Iron nipples Upon the breast that gave you suck. Cut not your days for't, am not I your mother? A bawd? Oh name far oathsomer then hell. Who I, That had been monstrous? I defy that man: For any such intent, none lives so pure, But shall be soiled with slander,—good son believe it not, Oh hell unto my soul. Good child, deer maid, if there be any spark Of heavenly intellectual fire within thee, o let my breath, Revive it to a flame: Put not all out, with woman's wilful folly's, I am recovered of that foul disease That haunts too many mother's, kind forgive me, Make me not sick in health?—if then My words preuailde when they were wickedness, How much more now when they are joust and good? 'Tis unfruitful, held tedious to repeat whats passed, Ime now your present Mother. Bethink again, thou knowest not what thou sayest. Oh see, I spoke those words, and now they poison me: What will the deed do then? Advancement, true: as high as shame can pitch, For Treasure; who ere knew a harlot rich? Or could built by the purchase of her sin, And hospital to keep their bastards in: The Dukes son, O when Women are young Courtiers, they are sure to be old beggars, To know the Misery's most harlots taste, Thoudst wish thy self unborn, when thou art unchaste. Speedy indeed! One, no tongue but yours could have bewitched me so. Indeed he was a worthy Gentleman Had his estate been fellow to his mind. Look you sir. Let this thank your pains. I'll see how I can move, If she be still chased I'll never call her mine, Daughter Castiza. Why? Dishonourable Act?—good honourable fool, That wouldst be honest cause thou wouldst be so, Producing no one reason but thy will. And it's a good report, prettily commended, But pray by whom; mean people; ignorant people, The better sort Ime sure cannot abide it, And by what rule shouldst we square out our lives, But by our betters actions? o if thou knewest What t'were to lose it, thou would never keep it: But theres a cold curse laid upon all Maids, While other clip the Sun they clasp the shades! Virginity is paradise, locked up. You cannot come by your selves without fee. And it decreed that man should keep the key! Deny advancement, treasure, the Dukes son, Peevish, coy, foolish, but return this answer, My Lord shall be most welcome, when his pleasure Conducts him this way, I will sway mine own, Women with women can work best alone. Dissemble. O sons, forgive me, to my self isle prove more true, You that should honour me, I kneel to you. Oh you heavens? take this infectious spot out of my soul, I'll rence it in seven waters of mine eyes? Make my tears salt enough to taste of grace, To weep, is to our sex: naturally given: But to weep truly thats a gift from heaven? Oh speak truth. Oh happy child! faith and thy birth hath saved me, Amongst thousand daughters happiest of all others, Buy thou a glass for maids and I for mother's. I owe your cheek my hand, For that presumption now, but I'll forget it, Come you shall leave those childish haviours, And understand your Time, Fortune's flow to you, What will you be a Girl? If all feared drowning, that spy waves a shore, Gold would grow rich, and all the Merchants poor. O if I were young, I should be ravished. That I will. Troth he says true. Where? Most certainly applied? I'll give you this, that one I never knew Plead better, for, and gainst the Devil, then you. With my best words. I wonder now what fury did transport me? I feel good thoughts begin to settle in me. O with what forehead can I look on her? Whose honour I've so impiously beset, And here she comes, Content, to what? I hope you will not so. Truth but it is. Strike not me cold, I hate it.