Epicoene: Or, the Silent Woman by Ben Jonson
page 40 of 328 (12%)
page 40 of 328 (12%)
![]() | ![]() |
|
TRUE: Well, sir; if it will not take, I have learn'd to lose as
little of my kindness as I can. I'll do good to no man against his will, certainly. When were you at the college? CLER: What college? TRUE: As if you knew not! CLER: No faith, I came but from court yesterday. TRUE: Why, is it not arrived there yet, the news? A new foundation, sir, here in the town, of ladies, that call themselves the collegiates, an order between courtiers and country-madams, that live from their husbands; and give entertainment to all the wits, and braveries of the time, as they call them: cry down, or up, what they like or dislike in a brain or a fashion, with most masculine, or rather hermaphroditical authority; and every day gain to their college some new probationer. CLER: Who is the president? TRUE: The grave, and youthful matron, the lady Haughty. CLER: A pox of her autumnal face, her pieced beauty! there's no man can be admitted till she be ready, now-a-days, till she has painted, and perfumed, and wash'd, and scour'd, but the boy here; and him she wipes her oil'd lips upon, like a sponge. I have made a song, I pray thee hear it, on the subject. PAGE. [SINGS.] |
|