MARGARET and BESSY, with pitchers
BESSY
Of Barbara hast nothing heard?
MARGARET
I rarely go from home,–no, not a word
BESSY
‘Tis true: Sybilla told me so to-day!
That comes of being proud, methinks;
She played the fool at last,
MARGARET
How so?
BESSY
They say
That two she feedeth when she eats and drinks.
MARGARET
Alas!
BESSY
She’s rightly served, in sooth,
How long she hung upon the youth!
What promenades, what jaunts there were,
To dancing booth and village fair!
The first she everywhere must shine,
He always treating her to pastry and to wine.
Of her good looks she was so vain,
So shameless too, that to retain
His presents, she did not disdain;
Sweet words and kisses came anon–
And then the virgin flower was gone.
MARGARET
Poor thing!
BESSY
Forsooth dost pity her?
At night, when at our wheels we sat,
Abroad our mothers ne’er would let us stir.
Then with her lover she must chat,
Or on the bench or in the dusky walk,
Thinking the hours too brief for their Sweet talk;
Her proud head she will have to bow,
And in white sheet do penance now!
MARGARET
But he will surely marry her?
BESSY
Not he!
He won’t be such a fool! a gallant lad
Like him, can roam o’er land and sea,
Besides, he’s off.
MARGARET
That is not fair!
BESSY
If she should get him, ’twere almost as bad!
Her myrtle wreath the boys would tear;
And then we girls would plague her too,
For we chopp’d straw before her door would strew!
Exit.
MARGARET walking towards home
How stoutly once I could inveigh,
If a poor maiden went astray;
Not words enough my tongue could find,
‘Gainst others’ sin to speak my mind!
Black as it seemed, I blacken’d it still more,
And strove to make it blacker than before.
And did myself securely bless–
Now my own trespass doth appear!
Yet ah!–what urg’d me to transgress,
God knows, it was so sweet, so dear!