Book-bot.com - read famous books online for free

The Poetaster by Ben Jonson
page 58 of 324 (17%)

Cris. [coming forward.] Yes, in truth, forsooth, for fault of a
better.

Chloe. She is a gentlewoman.

Cris. Or else she should not be my cousin, I assure you.

Chloe. Are you a gentleman born?

Cris. That I am, lady; you shall see mine arms, if it please you.

Chloe. No, your legs do sufficiently shew you are a gentleman born,
sir; for a man borne upon little legs, is always a gentleman born.

Cris. Yet, I pray you, vouchsafe the sight of my arms, mistress;
for I bear them about me, to have them seen: My name is Crispinus
or Crispinas indeed; which is well expressed in my arms; a face
crying in chief; and beneath it a bloody toe, between three thorns
pungent.

Chloe. Then you are welcome, sir: now you are a gentleman born, I
can find in my heart to welcome you; for I am a gentlewoman born
too, and will bear my head high enough, though 'twere my fortune to
marry a tradesman.

Cris. No doubt of that, sweet feature; your carriage shews it in
any man's eye, that is carried upon you with judgment.
[Re-enter ALBIUS.
Alb. Dear wife, be not angry.
DigitalOcean Referral Badge