I'll go to them myself.

Isen. What now? start forth
In this most bitter frost, so thinly clad?

Eliz. Tut, tut, I wear my working dress to-day,
And those who work, robe lightly--

Isen. Nay, my child,
For once keep up your rank.

Eliz. Then I had best
Roll to their door in lacqueyed equipage,
And dole my halfpence from my satin purse--
I am their sister--I must look like one.
I am their queen--I'll prove myself the greatest
By being the minister of all. So come--
Now to my pastime, [aside] And in happy toil
Forget this whirl of doubt--We are weak, we are weak,
Only when still: put thou thine hand to the plough,
The spirit drives thee on.

Isen. You live too fast!

Eliz. Too fast? We live too slow--our gummy blood
Without fresh purging airs from heaven, would choke
Slower and slower, till it stopped and froze.
God! fight we not within a cursed world,
Whose very air teems thick with leagued fiends--
Each word we speak has infinite effects--