Gertrude

He tells me, my dear Gertrude, he hath found the head and source of all your son’s distemper.

O Gertrude, Gertrude! / When sorrows come, they come not single spies, / But in battalions.

"We two," she said, "will seek the groves / Where the lady Mary is, / With her five handmaidens, whose names / Are five sweet symphonies, / Cecily, Gertrude, Magdalen, / Margaret and Rosalys.