WINIFRED

Mistress Camelia, me thinks your eye Sparkles not spirit as it wont to do. Indeed young Brabant is a proper man, And yet his legs are somewhat of the least: And faith a chitty well complexioned face, And yet it wants a beard: A good sweet youth, And yet some say he hath a valiant breath, Of a good hair, but o, his eyes, his eyes. No Mistress, no: but theres M. John, M. John Else, theres a Lad I'faith, Would for a virtuous honest good youth! I know not, me thinks not to be bade, is good enough in these days. Is there not one M. John Else here? What harsh uncivil tongue keeps such a coil? She wonders at your rudeness that intrudes Upon the quiet of her morning's rest, And she's amazed, that with such impudence You dare presume to intimate some love to her, As if she knew you more then for a youth, A younger brother, and a stipendiary. Put up, put up, for the passion of God put up, or if yowl needs too it, sheath both your weapons in me first. Hark you Jack, come to my chamber and hour hence, and you shall have what you will ask, and I can grant. Sweet, sweet Mounsieur, hang you slaves, I love you infinitely. Well Mounsieur, I'll give you pleasure. I so they say, I herd you were under the Tor read zone last day. Well then, two hours hence come to my chamber, and Timothy Twedle shall give you me in a sack. And you shall carry me to my Masters house at Holloway, for in the house we cannot be private with out suspect. Till then, farewell. Well fear no rubs, farewell fair bounteous Sir. Truly friend John, as I would be loath to break my promise, so I would be unwilling to keep my word to the dishonesting of my virginity. Marry for a nights lodging or so, I will not be strait laced to my friend. There before thus it must be. To night I must lie at the Farm at Holloway, thither shall you be conveyed in this Sack, & laid in my chamber, from whence you shall have free access to the pleasures of my private bed. Stay a little here, and if John foe de king come, give him that Sack. O I could crack my Whalebones, break my Busk, to think what laughter may arise from this. I would be loath to nourish your defame, And therefore Mistress pray you pardon me. No that is firm: but your estate is change. You know your sister's strangely vanished, And now the hope and revenue of all, Calls you his sole, and fair apparent heir: Now therefore would I have you change your love. Indeed I yield 'tis modern policy, To kiss even dirt that plasters up our wants. I'll not deny, 'tis worthy wits applause, For women on whom lowering Fortune squints, And casts but half and eye of endue respect, To pin some amorous Idiot to their eyes, And use him as they use their Lookingglass, See how to adorn their beauty's by his wealth, And then case up the fool and lay him by. But for such Ladies as your self is now, Whose Fortune's are sustained by all the props That gracious Fortune can advance you with, For such a one to yoke her free sweet youth Unto a Lown, a Dane-like barbarous Sot, A guilden Truncheon, fie, 'tis slavish vile. O what is richer then content in love? And will you now having so huge a Ruck Of heaped up Fortune's, go and chain your self To a dull post, whose very eyes will blaze His base bred spirit, where so ever he comes, And shame you with the very name of wife. No Mistress, no, I have found out a man That merits you, if man can merit you. The man? (o God) the man is such a man, That he is matchless: o, I shall profane His name, with unrespected utterance. Nay look you now, you'll straight oreshoot yourself, You'll say he's sour and unsociable: Tush you know him not, that humor's forced: But in his native spirit he's as kind As is the life of love. And then the clearest skin, The whitest hand, the cleanest well shaped leg: The quickest eye: Fie, fie, I shall but blur And sulley his bright worth with my rude speech. Sweet Gentleman. Heel spoil himself, lets run & call for help. Indeed he wares good clothes, & throws his cloak With good discretion under his left arm, He curls his boot with judgement, and takes a whiff With graceful fashion, swears a valorous oath, But o the devil, hath a hateful fault, he is a younger bro there. By the sweet pleasures of and amorous bed, I think you will be deified by him. Oh God the most accomplished man that breathes, And Planet is the man. Court you? nay you must court him for ought I know: You must not think forsooth, that I am feed To urge you thus. I solemnly protest, I motion this out of my pure vowed love, Which wishes all advancement and content To attend the glory of your beauteous youth. I saw him coming up the hill even now, Send him a favour, and I'll bear it to him, And tell him you desire to speak with him. Why all the better. And I'll tell you this, The greatest Lady in the Land affects him, Nay dotes upon him, I, and lies with him. Sir I will undertake to forward your fair love, So you'll remember what you here do vow. The Lady Fortune. Then you must needs favour him For Fortune favours fools. Foul water quenches fire well enough, And with more lively pallar, you shall taste The Juice of pleasures fount at private times: Pish, by my maidenhead, were I to match, I would elect a wealthy fool foreall, Then may one hurry in her Chariot, Shine in rich purpled Tissue, have hundred loves, Rule all, pay all, take all, without check or snib. When being married to a wise man (Oh the Lord) You are made a fool, a Ward, curbed and controlled, and (Oh) out vpon't. Would, would, her love is as uncertain as and Alma nacke, as unconstant as the fashion, Just Like a whiff of Tobacco, no sooner in at the mouth, but out at the nose: I think in my heart I could make her enamoured on Timothy Twedle: well he that fees me best, speeds best. For as it pleased my bribed lips to blow, So turns her feathry fancy too and from.