d, and sayd; Why do not feare,
Thy father shall not know of this at all:
At which she starts, and on her bed doth fall.

And frantickly she tumbles on her face,
And said, get hence (good Nurse) I pre'thee go,
Constraine me not to shew my wicked case.
That case (quoth she) I pray thee let me know.
Get hence, she answer'd, or enquire lesse,
'Tis wickednesse thou wouldst haue me c[=o]fesse.

'Tis such a thing, that if I want, I die,
And being got, is nothing else but shame.
The Nurse hereat did sigh most heauily,
And on her knees besought to know the same,
And holding vp her hands as she did kneele,
Said; Madame, tell the priuie griefe you feele.

If you will not discouer this to me
I will acquaint your father out of hand,
How you had hang'd your selfe, wer't not for me;
But if you tell, your trusty friend Il'e stand,
And let your griefe of any nature be,
It shall go hard, but Il'e finde remedy.

And if your case be ill, you need not feare
The heauie load the wickednesse doth bring,
I'le teach thee how most easily to beare,
My age hath got experience in each thing.
Tell me what 'tis that doth so neerely touch,
One woman may perswade another much.

And now the Lady raisd her heauy head,
Hanging vpon her Nurses bosome fast,
As she did rise vp from her slothfull bed,
Being prodigall, her christall teares to waste,
Now she wold speak, & now her speech doth stay
Th[=e] shame doth cause her turne her face away.

A franticke fury doth possesse her now,
And then she drawes her garment ore her face,
And wrings her hands, & to her Nurse doth vow
For to acquaint her with her wretched case.
And shedding brinish teares into her breast,
Thus much her griefe to her at last exprest.

Oh happy is my mothers happy state!
That hath a husband _Debonaire_ and faire,
Vnhappy am I, most infortunate,
At which he stopt, as one falne in dispaire.
The Nurse soone found _Senecdoche_ in this,
And what the whole meant by a perfect gesse.

Her aged bones did shake and tremble fast,
Her hoary haire stood staring vp on end,
From forth her eyes a heauy looke she cast,
And many a sigh her heart distrest did send;
And pausing long, not knowing what to say,
At last her tongue her minde did thus bewray.

In this I hope, good Lady, you but iest,
To try your Nurses now-decaying wit;