GRISSIL

Why Babulo, what's the matter? Father, me thinks it does not fit a maid, By sitting thus in view, to draw men's eyes To stare upon her: might it please your age, I could be more content to work within. I will avoid their darts and work within. Dear brother Laureo welcome home. Brother's whatmeanes these words? None is so found to fancy poverty. I have no skill to judge proportions. O bear my Lord with his intemperate tongue My gracious Lord. You from me are banished, But ere you leave the Court, o leave I pray Your grief in Grissils bosom, let my cheeks Be watered with woes tears, for here and here, And in the error of these wandering eyes, Began your discontent: had not I been, By nature painted thus: this had not been, To leave the Court and care be patient, In your old cottage you shall find content. Mourn not because these silks are taken away, You'll seem more rich in a course gown of grey, What ever you think good, I'll not term vile, By this rich burden in my worthless womb, Your handmaid is so subject to your will, That nothing which you do, to her seems ill. I know my gracious Lord they are not mine, I am but their poor nurse I must confess, Alas let not a nurse be pitiless. To see the cold air make them look thus bleak, Makes me shed tears because they cannot speak. That I in all things will your will obey. I go my Lord. Farewell sweet sweet deer babes, so you were free, Would all the world's cares might be thrown on me. I pry thee let me touch them. I pry thee gentle Furio let me kiss them. For Gods sake who must Nurse them do but name her, And I will swear those firy eyes do smile, And I will swear that which none else will swear, That thy grim brows, do mercies livery wear, It shall not need I can bear more. Come, come sweet lambs wee'll laugh and live content Though from the Court we live in banishment, These rich attires are for your mother fit, But not your nurse, therefore I'll off with it. Thus tyranny oppresses innocence, Thy looks seem heavy, but thy heart is light, For villains laugh when wrong oppresses right. Run to him Must we then be driven hence: O see my Lord, Sweet pretty fools they both smiled at that word. They smile as who should say indeed indeed, Your tongue cries hence, but your heart's not agreed, Can you thus partly from them? in truth I know, Your true love cannot let these infants go. O send one gracious smile Before we leave this place: turn not away, Do but look back, let us but once more see Those eyes, whose beams shall breath new souls in three, It is enough now weel depart in joy, Nay be not you so cruel, should you two Be thus driven hence, trust me Idem pity you. To take away my children gentle Furio, Why must my babes bear this ungentle doom? Good father let true patience cure all woe, You bid me be content, o be you so. Must I then be divorced? and lose this treasure, I must and am content, since 'tis his pleasure, I pry thee tell we whither they must go? Art thou commanded to conceal the place? Then will not I inquire, thou dost but jest I know thou must not rob me, 'tis to try If I love them: no, no, here I read, That which strikes blind mine eyes, makes my heart bleed, Farewell, farewell, deer souls, adue adue, Your father sends and I must partly from you, I must o God I must, must is for Kings, And lo obedience for lo underlings. What will you do, driven this rash fellow hence? A tyrant, no he's mercy even her self, Justice in triumph rides in his two eyes, Take heed how thou profanest high deities: Go Furio, get thee gone: good father help me To guard my deer Lords servant from this place, I know hée'll do my pretty babes no harm, For see Furio looks gently: o get thee gone, Pity sits on thy cheeks, but God can tell, My heart says my tongue lies, farewell farewell. I will thank God for all, why should I grieve, To lose my children? no no, I ought rather Rejoice, because they are born to their Father. So father I am well, I am well indeed, I should do wondrous ill, should I repine, At my babes lose for they are none of mine. You need not, for I'll run to serve my Lord, Or if I wanted legs, upon my knees I'll creep to Court so I may see him pleased, Then courage Father. Brother, for my sake do not wrong your self. Yes when your words cannot get remedy, Learn of me Laureo I that share most woe, Am the least moved, father lean on mine arm, Brother lead you the way, while wretched I Uphold old age, and cast down misery. Alas what do you brother, see you not Our dread Lord yonder come perform his will, O in a subject this is too too ill. Griselda is not despised in your eye, Since you name her name so gently. I think her blessed. To have the love of such a noble Lord. It never touched my heart, adversity Dwells still with them that dwells with misery, But mild content hath eased me of that yoke, Patience hath born the bruise and I the stroke. I do my deer Lord, and as willingly As I delivered up my maiden youth. Blessing distil on you Like morning dew, My soul knit to your souls, knows you are mine. If to die free from shame be never to die, Then I'll be crowned with immortality. Good father do not shake your age with fears Although the Marquess sometime visit us, Yet all his words and deeds are Like his birth, Steeped in true honour: but admit they were not, Before my soul look black with speckled sin, My hands shall make me pale death's underling, Come Babulo why hast thou stayed so long? That your high thoughts. To your contentment may be satisfied. O my gracious Lord, Humble not your high state to my low birth, Whom not worthy to be held your slave, Much less your wife. This does she say, As her old Father yields to your dread will, So she her father's pleasure must fulfil. If old Janicola make Griselda yours, Griselda must not deny, yet had she rather, Be the poor Daughter still of her poor Father. My aged Father's servant my gracious Lord. Angry? the heave ̄ S foresee ̄ worser: with who ̄ ? for what? Is it with me? May I presume, To touch the vain of that sad discontent, Which swells upon my deer Lords angry brow? O chide me not away, Your handmaid Griselda with unvexed thoughts, And with and unrepining soul, will bear The burden of all sorrows, of all woe, Before the smallest grief should wound you so. Suffer me to partly hence, I'll tear them out, Because they work such treason to my love. Poor Griselda is not proud of these attires, They are to me but as you livery, And from your humble servant when you please, You may take all this outside, which indeed Is none of Grissills, her best wealth is need, I'll cast this gaynesse of, and be content To wear this russet bravery of my own, For thats more warm then this, I shall look old, No sooner in course freeze then cloth of gold. 'Tis but my duty if yowl have me stoop, Even to your meanest groom my Lord isle stoop. Friend you do me wrong, To let me hold my Lord in wrath so long, Stand still I'll kneel and tie them: what I do Furio 'tis done to him and not to you. Tie them. I go my gracious Lord. Exit Did my Lord call? O pardon him my Lord, for mercies wings Bears round about the world the fame of Kings, Temper your wrath I beg it on my knee, Forgive his fault though yowl not pardon Me, O cast them down, And send poor Griselda poorly home again, High Cedars fallen, when low shrubs safe remain. Exit I'll not deni't to win a diadem. Your patience I commend that can abide, To hear a flatterer speak yet never chide. I will obey, And if you please, never more behold the day. Exit. Brother forbear, he's servant to my Lord. My gracious Lord, I know full well it is. With reuerenre of your Highness I have not. Never did pride keep pace with my desires. Give me mine infant, where's my other babe? You cannot play the nurse, your horred eyes Will fright my little ones and make them cry, Your tongue's too ruff to chime a lullaby: 'Tis not the pleasure of my Lord I know, To load me with such wrong. A better Nurse: seekest thou a better Nurse? A better Nurse then whom? I am their Mother I must not away, Look, look, good Furio look they smile on Me, I know poor hearts they fear to smile on thee, I prithee let me have them. Must I not kiss my babes: must I not touch them? Alas what sin so vile hath Grissil done That thus she should be vexed? not kiss my infants? Who taught thee to be cruel gentle churl, What must thou do with them? A Nurse alack, what Nurse? where must she dwell O God, o God, might Griselda have her choice My babes should not be scared with thy devils voice. Thou get a Nurse for them? they can abide, To taste no milk but mine, come, come I'll chide, In faith you cruel man, I'll chide indeed, If I grow angry. Wilt thou not tell me who shall be their Nurse? Wilt thou not let me kiss them? I prithee let my tears, let my bowed knees, Bend thy obdurate heart, see here's a fountain, Which heaven into this Alabaster bowels, Instilled to nourish them: man theyle cry, And blame thee that this ronnes so lavishly, Heres milk for both my babes two breasts for two. I pray thee let them suck I am most meet, To play their Nurse: theyle smile and say 'tis sweet, Which streams from ̄ hence, if thou dost bear them he ̄ ce, My angry breasts will swell, and as mine eyes Lets fallen salt drops, with these white Necter tears, They will be mixed: this sweet will then be brine, Theyle cry I'll chide and say the sin is thine. O this is gently done this is my boy. My first born care: thy feet that never felt ground, Have traveled longest in this land of woe, This world's wilderness, and hast most need, Of my most comfort: o I thank thee Furio, I know I should transform thee with my tears, And melt thy adamantiue heart Like wax, What wrong shall these have to be taken from Me, Mildly entreat their Nurse to touch them mildly, For my soul tells me, that my honoured Lord, Does but to try poor Grissils constancy, He's full of mercy justice, full of love. My gracious Lord, Away, away? Nothing but that cold comfort wee'll obey, Heaven smile upon my Lord with gracious eye, Forbear, forbear. Your handmaid Grissils brother, With all my heart. Exeunt. Gris. and Ba. grinning at him. Content with all. I here present you with and endless bliss, Rich honour, beauteous virtue, virtuous youth, Long live my Lord with her contentedly. Joy fear, love hate, hope doubts encompass me. Are these my children I supposed slain? Father as I was runaing to fetch water, I saw the Marquess with a gallant train Come riding towards us, Oh see where they come. To work some good deed thus you would not run. Exeunt. Indeed I speak the truth, Only I prostrately beseech your grace, That you consider of her tender years, Which as a flower in spring may soon be nipped, With the least frost of cold adversity. I would not for the world that he should hear thee.