Gertrude’s lodging.
Enter Gertrude and Sindefy.
Ge. Ah, Sin! hast thou ever read i’ the chronicle of any lady and her waiting-woman driven to that extremity that we are, Sin?
Si. Not I, truly, madam; and if I had, it were but cold comfort should come out of books now.
Ge. Why, good faith, Sin, I could dine with a lamentable story, now. O[99] hone, hone, o no nera! &c. Canst thou tell ne’er a one, Sin?
Si. None but mine own, madam, which is lamentable enough: first to be stolen from my friends, which were worshipful and of good accompt, by a prentice, in the habit and disguise of a gentleman, and here brought up to London, and promised marriage, and now likely to be forsaken, for he is in possibility to be hanged! 14
Ge. Nay, weep not, good Sin; my Petronel is in as good possibility as he. Thy miseries are nothing to mine, Sin; I was more than promised marriage, Sin; I
had it, Sin; and was made a lady; and by a knight, Sin; which is now as good as no knight, Sin. And I was born in London, which is more than brought up, Sin; and already forsaken, which is past likelihood, Sin; and instead of land i’ the country, all my knight’s living lies i’ the Counter, Sin; there’s his castle now! 24
Si. Which he cannot be forced out of, madam.
Ge. Yes, if he would live hungry a week or two. “Hunger,” they say, “breaks stone walls.” But he is e’en well enough served, Sin, that so soon as ever he had got my hand to the sale of my inheritance, run away from me, and I had been his punk, God bless us! Would the Knight o’ the Sun,[100] or Palmerin of England, have used their ladies so, Sin? or Sir Lancelot? or Sir Tristram?