GERTRUDE

For the passion of patience, look if sir Petronel ap proach; that sweet, that fine, that delicate, that—for loves sake tell me if he come. Oh sister Mill, though my father be a low captain tradesman, yet I must be a Lady: and I praise God my mother must call me Medam, (does he come?) off with this gown for shames sakes, off with this gown: let not my Knight take me in the City cut in any hand: tear't, pax ont (does he come) tear't of. Thus while she sleeps I sorrow, for her sake, &c. I tell you I cannot endure it, I must be a Lady: do you wear your Quoiffe with a London licket; your Stammell petticoat with two guards, the Buffin gown with the Tuf taffitic cape, and the Velvet lace. I must be a Lady, and I will be a Lady. I Like some humours of the City Dams well, to eat Cherries only at and Angel a pound, good; to die rich Scarlet black, pretty: to line a Grogaram gown clean through with velvet, tolerable; their pure linen, their smocks of 3. li. a smock are to be born withal. But your mincing nice ryes, taffeta pipkins, durance petticoats, & silver bodkins:—Gods my life, as I shall be a Lady I cannot endure it. Is he come yet? Lord what a long knight 'tis! And ever she cried shout home, and yet I knew one longer, and ever she cried shout home, fa, la, lie, re, lo, la. Boe-bell. Alas, poor Mil. when I am a Lady, I'll pray for thee yet I faith: Nay, and I'll vouchsafe to call thee sister Mil still, for though thou art not Like to be a Lady as I am, yet sure thou art a creature of Gods making; and mayest peradventure to be saved as soon as I, (dos he come?) And ever and anon she dou bled in her song. Now (Ladies my comfort) What a profane Ape's here! Tailer, Poldavis, prithee fit it fit it: is this a right Scot? Does it clip close? and bear up round? Most aedefying Tailer! I protest you Tailors are most sanctified members, and make many crooked thing go upright. How must I bear my hands? light? light? Has the Court never a trot? And if she will not go to bed Cantat. Is my knight come? Oh the Lord. my band? Sister do my cheeks look well? give me a little box a the ear that I may see me to blush: now, now. So, there, there, there! here he is: Oh my dearest delight, Lord, Lord, and how do my Knight? Modesty! why I am no citizen now, modesty? am I not to be married? you're best to keep me modest now I am to be a Lady. I, in a country Lady I hope it is: as I shall be. And how chance you came no sooner knight? At Baboon? Jesu! you and I will play at Baboon in the country? Knight. With arm, or leg, or any other member, if it be a court-sport. And when shall's be married my Knight? I mother, I must be a Lady to morrow: and by your leave mother (I speak it not without my duty, but only in the right of my husband) I must take place of you, Mother. Body a truth, Chittizens, Chittizens. Sweet Knight, as soon as ever we are married, take me to to thy mercy out of this miserable Chitty, presently, carry me out of the sent of Newcastle Coal, and the hearing of Boe-bell, I beseech thee down with me for God sake. As I am a Lady, I think I am with child already, I long for a coach so; may one be with child afore they are married Mother? Go too, hold your peace dame, you talk Like and old fool I tell you. Dost remember since thou and I clapped what d'ye' clats in the Garrat? What Writing is it Knight? I, why? you do not scorn my Ladyship, though it is in a Waistcoat? Gods my life, you are a Peat indeed! do I offer to mortgage my Ladyship, for you, and for your avail, and do you turn the Lip, and the Alas to my Ladyship? Yes mother. But by your leave mother, (I speak it not without my duty but only in my husbands right) my Coach-horses must take the wall of your Coach-horses. How now? who be you I pray? Gods my dignity! as I am a Lady, if he did not make me blush so that mine eyes stood awater, would I were vnma ried again: Enter Security and Sindefie. Where's my woman I pray? You're very welcome! you must not put on your Hat yet. And is this a Gentleman's daughter new come out of the country? A Nun? what Nun? a Nun Substantive? or a Nun Adjective? I'll teach her to be a maid of the order I warrant you: and can you do any work belongs to a Ladies Chamber? Well said, hold up then; hold up your head I say, come hither a little. And hark you; Good man, you may put on your Hat now, I do not look on you: I must have you of my faction now; not of my Knights, maid. And draw all my servants in my Bow, and keep my counsel, and tell me tales, and put me Riddles and read on a book sometime when I am busy, and laugh at country Gentlewomen, and command any thing in the house for my retainers, and care not what you spend, for it is all mine; and in any case, be still a Maid what soever you do, or whatsoever any man can do unto you. Very well, you shall ride in my coach with me into the country to morrow morning; Come Knight, pray thee lets make a short supper, and to bed presently. By my faith but he shall not go Sir; I shall swoon and he sup from me. I by Lady Sir, rather then I loose my longing; come in I say: as I am a Lady you shall not go. No by my faith Sir, then we cannot be a bed soon en ough, after supper. Come sweet Knight come, I do hunger and thirst to be a bed with thee. Exeunt. Thank you good people; my coach for the love of Heaven, my coach? in good truth I shall swoon else. That's well said; Now heaven! me thinks, I am eene up to the knees in preferment; But a little higher, but a little higher, but a little higher, There, there, there lies Cupid's fire. But a little higher, but a little higher, but a little higher, There, there, there lies Cupid's fire. I by my faith I warrant him, he gives no other milk, as I have and other servant does. I pray thee sweet Knight let me; I do so long to dress up thy castle afore thou comest: But I marl how emy modest Sister occupies her self this morning, that she can not wait on me to my Coach, as well as her mother! There's no base fellow, my Father, now: but he's eene fit to Father such a Daughter: he must call me daughter no more now; but Madam; and please you Madam: and please your worship Madam, indeed; out upon him, marry his daughter to a base Prentice? As I am a Lady an't would snow, wee'd so pebble them with snow bals as they come from Church; but sirrah, Franck Quicksilver. His head as white as milk, All flaxen was his hair: But now he is dead, And laid in his Bed, And never will come again. God be at your labour. Gods my precious! God give you joy Mistress What lack you. Now out upon thee Baggage: my sister married in a Taffeta Hat? Marry hang you; Westward with a wanio ̄ te'yee, Nay I have done we you Minion the ̄ y in-faith, never look to have my countenance any more: nor any thing I can do for thee. Thou ride in my Coach? or come down to my Castle? fie upon thee: I charge thee in my Ladyships name, call me Sister no more. Let him go, let him go for Gods sake: let him make his Prentice, his son for Gods sake: give away his daughter for Gods sake: and when they come a begging to us for Gods sake, let's laugh at their good husbandry for Gods sake. Farewell sweet Knight, pray thee make haste after. Very well: Now give me your Pen I pray. So now Knight farewell till I see thee. Farewell Frank, I would feign take thee down if I could. Law! my Father knows his duty. Ah Sin! hast thou ever read i'the Chronicle of any Lady, and her waiting-woman, driven to that extremity, that we are, Sin? Why, good faith Sin, I could dine with a lamentable story, now. Oh hone, hone, oh no nera, &c. Canst thou tell never a one, Sin? Nay weep not good Sin. My Petronel, is in as good possibility as he. Thy Misery's, are nothing to mine, Sin: I was more then promised marriage, Sin, I had it Sin: & was made a Lady; and by a Knight, Sin: which is now as good as no Knight, Sin: And I was born in London, which is more then brought up, Sin: and already forsaken; which is passed likelihood, Sin: and in stead of Land i'the Country, all my Knights Living lies i'the Counter, Sin. there's his Castle now? Yes, if he would live hungry a week, or two. Hunger they say breaks stone walls. But he is eene well enough served, Sin, that so soon as ever he had God my hand to the sale of my inheritance run away from me, and I had be his Punk, God bless us. Would the Knight o'the Sun, or Palmerin of England, have used their Ladies so, Sin? or sir Lancelot? or sir Tristram? True Sin, let him vanish And tell me, what shall we pawn next Let it stink in her hand the ̄ : I'll not be beholding to her. Let me see, my Jewels begone, & my Gowns, & my read velvet Petticoat, that I was married in, & my wedding silk stockings, & all thy best apparel, poor Sin. Good faith, rather the ̄ thou shoul dest pawn a rag more, Ill lay my Ladyship in lavender, if I knew where. Who? marry enough, I warrant you, if you'll seek them out. I'm sure I remember the time, when I would have given a thousand pound, (if I had had it) to have been a Lady; and I hope I was not bred and born with that appetite alone: some other gentle-borne o'the City, have the same longing I trust. And for my partly, I would afford them a peny'rth, my Ladyship is little the worse, for the wearing, and yet I would bore a good deal of the sum. I would lend it (let me see) for 40 li in hand, Sin, that would apparel us; and ten pound a year: that would keep me, and you, Sin, (with our needles) and we should never needs to be beholding to our scurvy Parents? Good Lord, that there are no Fairies now adays, Sin. To do Miracles, and bring Ladies money. Sure, if we lay in a cleanly house, they would haunt it, Sin? I'll try. I'll sweep the Chamber soon at night, & set a dish of water o'the Hearth. A Fairy may come, and bring a Pearl, or a Diamond We do not know Sin? Or, there may be a pot of Gold hid o'the backside, if we had tools to dig for't? why may not we two rise early i'the morning (Sin) afore any body is up, and find a Jewel, i'the streets, worth a 100. li.? May not some great Court-Lady, as she comes from Revels at midnight, look out of her Coach, as it's running, and lose such a Jewel, and we find it? Would? Or may not some old Usurer be drunk overnight, with a Bag of money, and leave it behind him on a Stall? for Godsake, Sin, let's rise to morrow by break of day, and see. I protest law, If I had as much money as and Alderman, I would seatter some on't, i'th'streetes for poor Ladies to find, when their Knights were laid up. And, now I remember my Song o'the Golden shower, why may not I have such a fortune? I'll sing it, and try what luck I shall have after it. Found Fables tell of old, How love in Danaes lap Fell in a shower of Gold, By which she caught a clap; Oh, had it been my hap, (How ere the blow does threa ten) So well I Like the play, That I could wish all day And night to be so beaten. Oh, here's my Mother! good luck, I hope. have you brought any money, Mother? Pray you Mother, your Blessing. Nay, sweet Mother, do not weep. Nay, deer Mother, can you steal no more money from my father? dry your eyes, & comfort me. Alas, it is my Knights fault, and not mine, that I am in a Waistcoat, and attired thus simply. Nay then Mother, you should would loook'd to it; A body would think you were the older: I did but my kind, l. He was a Knight, and I was fit to be a Lady. 'Tis not lack of liking, but lack of living, that severs us. And you talk Like your self and a Cittiner in this, i'faith. You show what Husband you come on I wys. You smell the Touchstone. He that will do more for his daughter, that he has married a scurvy Gold-end man, and his Prentice, then he will for his tother Daughter, that has wedded a Knight, and his Customer. By this light, I think he is not my legitimate Father. Why Mother, I would not yet. Alas, good Mother, be not intoxicate for me, I am well enough. I would not change hus bans with my Sister, I. The leg of a Lark is better then the body of a Kite. What sweet Mother, What? That's true Mother; Aye me. Alas Mother, what should I do, But will she get him to set my Knight up, too? I will begin to love her, if I thought she would do this. Dost thou think shee'le doo't? Go, Sin, and pray for thy Franck, as I will, for my Pet. Father. Father, It is I Father; my Lady Flash: my sister and I am Friends. Ah Runaway, Runaway! have I caught you? And, how has my poor Knight done all this while? Sun? Now good Lord how he shines and you mark him! he's a gentleman. Kneel? I hope I am not brought so low yet: though my Knight be run away, & has sold my land, I am a Lady, still. Marry, fyste o'your kindness. I thought as much. Come away Sin, we shall assoon get a fart from a dead man, as a farthing of curtsy here. Sister, sir reverence? come away, I say, Hunger drops out at his nose. How say you by that? you come out with your gold ends now! I scorn it i'faith. Come Sin. (Exit Gyrt. Then thou knowest nothing, Sin. Thou art a Fool, Sin. The Knighthood now a days, are nothing Like the Knighthood of old time. They rid a horseback Ours go afoot. They were attended by their Squires. Our by their Lacquaies. They went buckled in their Armour, Ours muffled in their Cloaks. They tram veiled wildernesses; & deserts, Ours dare scarce walk the streets. They were still pressed to engage their Honour, Ours still ready to panem their clothes. They would gallop on at sighed of a More ̄ ster, Ours run away at sighed of a Sergeant. They would help poor Ladies, Ours make poor Ladies. As heartily, as I would be forgiven, Knight. Dear Father, give me your blessing, and forgive me too; I have be proud, and lascivious, Father; and a Fool, Father; and being raised to the state of a wanton coy thing, called a Lady, Father; have scorned you, Father; and my Sister; & my Sisters Velvet Cap, too; and would make a mouth at the City, as I rid through it; and stop mine ears at Bow-bell: I have said your Beard was a Base one, Father; and that you looked Like Twier pipe, the Taberer; and that my Mother was but my Midwife.