GERT. Sir, I'm at your disposing; but my mind Stands not as yet towards marriage.
Were you so pleas'd, I would a little longer Enjoy the quiet of a single bed.
SIR LIONEL. Here's the right trick of them all: let a man Be motion'd to 'em, they could be content To lead a single life, forsooth: when the harlots Do pine and run into diseases, Eat chalk and oatmeal, cry and creep in corners, Which are manifest tokens of their longings; And yet they will dissemble. [_Aside._] But, Gertude, As you do owe me reverence, and will pay it, Prepare yourself to like this gentleman, Who can maintain thee in thy choice of gowns, Of tires, of servants, and of costly jewels; Nay for a need, out of his easy nature, May'st draw him to the keeping of a coach For country, and caroch[169] for London: Indeed, what might'st thou not?
_Enter a_ SERVANT.
SER. Sir, here's one come from Master Bubble.
To invite you to the funeral of his uncle.
SIR LIONEL. Thank the messenger, and make him drink.
Tell him, I will not fail to wait the corse: Yet stay, I will go talk with him myself.
Gertrude, think upon what I have told you, And let me, ere it be long, receive your answer.
[_Exeunt_ SIR LIONEL _and_ SERVANT.
JOYCE. Sister, sister!
GERT. What say you, sister?
JOYCE. Shall I provide a cord?
GERT. A cord! what to do?
JOYCE. Why, to let thee out at the window. Do not I know that thou wilt run away with the gentleman for whom you made the passion, rather than endure this same Bubble that my father talks of? 'Twere good you would let me be of your counsel, lest I break the neck of your plot.
GERT. Sister, [you] know I love thee, And I'll not think a thought thou shalt not know.
I love a gentleman, that answers me In all the rights of love as faithfully: Has woo'd me oft with sonnets and with tears: Yet I seem still to slight him. Experience tells, The jewel that's enjoy'd is not esteem'd; Things hardly got are always highest deem'd.
JOYCE. You say well, sister; but it is not good to linger out too long; continuance of time will take away any man's stomach in the world. I hope the next time that he comes to you I shall see him.
GERT. You shall.
JOYCE. Why, go to then: you shall have my opinion of him. If he deserve thee, thou shalt delay him no longer; for if you cannot find in your heart to tell him you love him, I'll sigh it out for you. Come, we little creatures must help one another. [_Exeunt._
_Enter_ GERALDINE.
GERA. How cheerfully things look in this place!
'Tis always spring-time here; such is the grace And potency of her who has the bliss To make it still Elysium where she is.
Nor doth the king of flames in's golden fires, After a tempest, answer men's desires, When as he casts his comfortable beams Over the flowery fields and silver streams, As her illustrate beauty strikes in me, And wraps my soul up to felicity.
_Enter_ GERTRUDE _and_ JOYCE _aloft_.
JOYCE. Do you hear, sir?
GERT. Why, sister, what will you do?
JOYCE. By my maidenhead, an oath which I ne'er took in vain, either go down and comfort him, or I'll call him up and disclose all. What, will you have no mercy, but let a proper man, that might spend the spirit of his youth upon yourself, fall into a consumption? for shame, sister!
GERT. You are the strangest creature--what would you have me do?
JOYCE. Marry, I would have you go to him, take him by the hand, and gripe him; say, You are welcome, I love you with all my heart, you are the man must do the feat; and take him about the neck, and kiss upon the bargain.
GERT. Fie, how you talk! 'tis mere immodesty; The common'st strumpet would not do so much.
JOYCE. Marry, the better; for such as are honest Should still do what the common strumpet will not.
Speak, will you do it?
GERT. I'll lose his company for ever first.
JOYCE. Do you hear, sir? here is a gentlewoman would speak with you.
GERT. Why, sister! pray, sister----
JOYCE. One that loves you with all her heart, yet is ashamed to confess it.
GERT. Good sister, hold your tongue: I will go down to him.
JOYCE. Do not jest with me; for, by this hand, I'll either get him up, or go down myself, and read the whole history of your love to him.
GERT. If you forbear to call, I will go down.
JOYCE. Let me see your back, then; and hear you, do not use him scurvily: you were best unset all your tyrannical looks, and bid him lovingly welcome, or, as I live, I'll stretch out my voice again. Ud's foot, I must take some pains, I see, or we shall never have this gear cotten;[170] but, to say truth, the fault is in my melancholy monsieur; for if he had but half so much spirit as he has flesh, he might have boarded her by this. But see, yonder she marches; now a passion on his side of half an hour long: his hat is off already, as if he were begging one poor pennyworth of kindness.
_Enter_ GERTRUDE _below_.
GERA. Shall I presume, fair mistress, on your hand to lay my unworthy lip?
JOYCE. Fie upon him! I am ashamed to hear him; you shall have a country fellow at a maypole go better to his work. He had need to be constant, for he is able to spoil as many maids as he shall fall in love withal.
GERT. Sir, you profess love unto me; let me entreat you it may appear but in some small request.
GERA. Let me know it, lady, and I shall soon effect it.
GERT. But for this present to forbear this place, Because my father is expected here.
GERA. I am gone, lady.
JOYCE. Do you hear, sir?
GERA. Did you call?
JOYCE. Look up to the window.
GERA. What say you, gentlewoman?
GERT. Nay, pray sir, go; it is my sister calls to hasten you.
JOYCE. I call to speak with you; pray, stay a little.