C. Wal monologue (Act 2) — The Saint's Tragedy

Why, if I must speak out--then I'll confess To have stood by, and seen the Landgravine Do most strange deeds; and in her generation Show no more wit than other babes of light. First, she has given away, to starving rascals, The stores of grain she might have sold, good lack! For any price she asked; has pawned your jewels, And mortgaged sundry farms, and all for food. Has sunk vast sums in fever-hospitals, For rogues whom famine sickened--almshouses For sluts whose husbands died--schools for their brats. Most sad vagaries! but there's worse to come. The dulness of the Court has ruined trade: The jewellers and clothiers don't come near us; The sempstresses, my lord, and pastrycooks Have quite forgot their craft; she has turned all heads And made the ladies starve, and wear old clothes, And run about with her to nurse the sick, Instead of putting gold in circulation By balls, sham-fights, and dinners; 'tis most sad, sir, But she has swept your treasury out as clean-- As was the widow's cruse, who fed Elijah.