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The Works of Christopher Marlowe

Act: 1 Scene: 2

Whose this? Faire Abigall the rich Jewes daughter

Become a Nun? her fathers sudden fall

Has humbled her and brought her downe to this:

Tut, she were fitter for a tale of love

Then to be tired Out with Orizons:

And better would she farre become a bed

Embraced in a friendly lovers armes,

Then rise at midnight to a solemne masse.

Beleeve me, Noble Lodowicke, I have seene

The strangest sight, in my opinion,

That ever I beheld.

A faire young maid scarce fourteene yeares of age,

The sweetest flower in Citherea's field,

Cropt from the pleasures of the fruitfull earth,

And strangely metamorphis'd Nun.

Why, the rich Jewes daughter.

And matchlesse beautifull;

As had you seene her 'twould have mov'd your heart,

Tho countermin'd with walls of brasse, to love,

Or at the least to pitty.

I must and will, Sir, there's no remedy.

Farewell Lodowicke.