Qvips vpon qvestions or, A Clownes conceite on occasion offered. bewraying a morrallised metamorphoses of changes vpon interrogatories: shewing a litle wit, with a great deale of will; or in deed, more desirous to please in it, then to profite by it. Clapt vp by a Clowne of the towne in this last restraint, hauing litle else to doe, to make a litle vse of his fickle Muse, and carelesse of carping. By Clunnyco de Curtanio Snuffe [i.e. Robert Armin] |
VVhat wisht shee?
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Qvips vpon qvestions | ||
VVhat wisht shee?
A Widdow wisht: harke and Ile tell thee what.
Choyce of a thousand thinges. What thinges I pray?
Content thy selfe man, and imagine that,
Thinke what she wisht, and hit it if thou may.
What, was she ritch? I so a number say,
Tis hard to iumpe with thee in what she would,
For women often wish not what they should.
Choyce of a thousand thinges. What thinges I pray?
Content thy selfe man, and imagine that,
Thinke what she wisht, and hit it if thou may.
What, was she ritch? I so a number say,
Tis hard to iumpe with thee in what she would,
For women often wish not what they should.
She wisht a Husband that was ritch like her.
That wealth to wealth were ioynd: was it not so?
Although in hart she could hit nothing neate.
Then she wisht wit, to gouerne it? Fie no.
Then she wisht health, t'enioy it? Yet ye go
Farre from her meaning: yet you came so neare,
As you will hit it by and by I feare.
That wealth to wealth were ioynd: was it not so?
Although in hart she could hit nothing neate.
Then she wisht wit, to gouerne it? Fie no.
Then she wisht health, t'enioy it? Yet ye go
As you will hit it by and by I feare.
O then I haue it: Women couet honner.
Honour is glorious; yet you want her minde.
Now fortune yeeld her wish to light vpon her,
For I am sencelesse in her wish, and blind.
I can not thinke her thought, how shee's inclind:
So wilde are women in their thoughts and deedes,
As no wise man knowes where their humour breedes,
Honour is glorious; yet you want her minde.
Now fortune yeeld her wish to light vpon her,
For I am sencelesse in her wish, and blind.
I can not thinke her thought, how shee's inclind:
So wilde are women in their thoughts and deedes,
As no wise man knowes where their humour breedes,
Now I will answere thee what wish she craude,
Not gold (she had enough) nor wit to keepe it:
For when some thought she spent, she nearely saude,
And couetously together would the sweepest:
Let them alone, too well can women heapest.
All wishes set a apart her eye being pleasde,
Her wish is graunted, and her hart is eazde.
Not gold (she had enough) nor wit to keepe it:
For when some thought she spent, she nearely saude,
And couetously together would the sweepest:
Let them alone, too well can women heapest.
All wishes set a apart her eye being pleasde,
Her wish is graunted, and her hart is eazde.
Quip.
Her eye to please is endlesse, not to do,Whose scope, no power can compasse there vnto:
Well, let her wish, but nere relicude thereby,
Whose bellyes sooner pleasd, then is her eye.
Qvips vpon qvestions | ||