It is raining,
Put on your hood and see me to the bounds.
[_Exeunt_
MARGERY (_singing behind scene_).
Babble in bower
Under the rose!
Bee mustn't buzz,
Whoop--but he knows.
Kiss me, little one,
Nobody near!
Grasshopper, grasshopper,
Whoop--you can hear.
Kiss in the bower,
Tit on the tree!
Bird mustn't tell,
Whoop--he can see.
_Enter_ MARGERY.
I ha' been but a week here and I ha' seen what I ha' seen, for to be
sure it's no more than a week since our old Father Philip that has
confessed our mother for twenty years, and she was hard put to it, and
to speak truth, nigh at the end of our last crust, and that mouldy,
and she cried out on him to put me forth in the world and to make me a
woman of the world, and to win my own bread, whereupon he asked our
mother if I could keep a quiet tongue i' my head, and not speak till I
was spoke to, and I answered for myself that I never spoke more than
was needed, and he told me he would advance me to the service of a
great lady, and took me ever so far away, and gave me a great pat o'
the cheek for a pretty wench, and said it was a pity to blindfold such
eyes as mine, and such to be sure they be, but he blinded 'em for all
that, and so brought me no-hows as I may say, and the more shame to
him after his promise, into a garden and not into the world, and bad
me whatever I saw not to speak one word, an' it 'ud be well for me in
the end, for there were great ones who would look after me, and to be
sure I ha' seen great ones to-day--and then not to speak one word, for
that's the rule o' the garden, tho' to be sure if I had been Eve i'
the garden I shouldn't ha' minded the apple, for what's an apple, you
know, save to a child, and I'm no child, but more a woman o the world
than my lady here, and I ha' seen what I ha' seen--tho' to be sure if
I hadn't minded it we should all on us ha' had to go, bless the
Saints, wi' bare backs, but the backs 'ud ha' countenanced one
another, and belike it 'ud ha' been always summer, and anyhow I am as
well-shaped as my lady here, and I ha' seen what I ha' seen, and
what's the good of my talking to myself, for here comes my lady
(_enter_ ROSAMUND), and, my lady, tho' I shouldn't speak one word, I
wish you joy o' the King's brother.
Pages:
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96