_Ge._ I tell you I cannot endure it, I must be a lady: do you wear your coif with a London licket,[18] your stammel[19] petticoat with two guards,[20] the buffin[21] gown with the tuff-taffety cape, and the velvet lace. I must be a lady, and I will be a lady. I like some humours of the city-dames well: to eat cherries[22] only at an angel a pound, good; to dye rich scarlet, black, pretty; to line a grogram gown clean thorough with velvet, tolerable; their pure linen, their smocks of three pounds a smock, are to be borne withal. But your mincing niceries, taffeta pipkins, durance[23] petticoats, and silver bodkins--God's my life, as I shall be a lady, I cannot endure it! Is he come yet? Lord, what a long knight 'tis! "And ever she cried, Shoot[24] home!" and yet I knew one longer; "And ever she cried, Shoot[24] home," fa, la, ly, re, lo, la! _Mi._ Well, sister, those that scorn their nest, oft fly with a sick wing. 188 _Ge._ Bow-bell! _Mi._ Where titles presume to thrust before fit means to second them, wealth and respect often grow sullen, and will not follow. For sure in this, I would for your sake I spake not truth: _Where ambition of place goes before fitness of birth, contempt and disgrace follow._ I heard a scholar once say, that Ulysses, when he counterfeited himself mad, yoked cats[25] and foxes and dogs together to draw his plough, whiles he followed and sowed salt; but sure I judge them truly mad, that yoke citizens and courtiers, tradesmen and soldiers, a goldsmith's daughter and a knight. Well, sister, pray God my father sow not salt too. 201 _Ge._ Alas! poor Mildred, when I am a lady, I'll pray for thee yet, i'faith: nay, and I'll vouchsafe to call thee sister Mill still; for though thou art not like to be a lady as I am, yet sure thou art a creature of God's making; and mayest peradventure to be saved as soon as I (does he come?). "And ever and anon she doubled in her song." Now, lady's my comfort, what profane ape's here? Tailor, Poldavy, prithee, fit it, fit it: is this a right Scot?[26] Does it clip close, and bear up round? 210 _Po._ Fine and stiffly, i'faith; 'twill keep your thighs so cool, and make your waist so small; here was a fault in your body, but I have supplied the defect, with the effect of my steel instrument, which, though it have but one eye, can see to rectify the imperfection of the proportion. _Ge._ Most edifying tailor! I protest you tailors are most sanctified members, and make many crooked things go upright. How must I bear my hands? Light? light? 219 _Po._ O ay, now you are in the lady-fashion, you must do all things light. Tread light, light. Ay, and fall so: that's the Court-amble.