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While mighty love forbids my being here;

And in the name of Sir Robert of Windsor

Will go with thee unto the Danish Court.

Keep Williams secrets, Marques, if thou love him.

Bright Blaunch, I come! Sweet fortune, favour me,

And I will laud thy name eternally.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE II.

Manchester. The Interior of a Mill.

[Enter the Miller and Em, his daughter.]

MILLER.

Come, daughter, we must learn to shake of pomp,

To leave the state that earst beseemd a Knight

And gentleman of no mean discent,

To undertake this homelie millers trade:

Thus must we mask to save our wretched lives,

Threatned by Conquest of this hapless Yle,

Whose sad invasions by the Conqueror

Have made a number such as we subject

Their gentle necks unto their stubborn yoke

Of drudging labour and base peasantry.

Sir Thomas Godard now old Goddard is,

Goddard the miller of fair Manchester.

Why should not I content me with this state,

As good Sir Edmund Trofferd did the flaile?

And thou, sweet Em, must stoop to high estate

To join with mine that thus we may protect

Our harmless lives, which, led in greater port,

Would be an envious object to our foes,

That seek to root all Britains Gentry

From bearing countenance against their tyranny.

EM.

Good Father, let my full resolved thoughts

With settled patiens to support this chance

Be some poor comfort to your aged soul;

For therein rests the height of my estate,

That you are pleased with this dejection,

And that all toils my hands may undertake

May serve to work your worthiness content.

MILLER.

Thanks, my dear Daughter.

These thy pleasant words

Transfer my soul into a second heaven:

And in thy settled mind my joys consist,

My state revived, and I in former plight.

Although our outward pomp be thus abased,

And thralde to drudging, stayless of the world,

Let us retain those honorable minds

That lately governed our superior state,

Wherein true gentry is the only mean

That makes us differ from base millers borne.

Though we expect no knightly delicates,

Nor thirst in soul for former soverainty,

Yet may our minds as highly scorn to stoop

To base desires of vulgars worldliness,

As if we were in our precedent way.

And, lovely daughter, since thy youthful years

Must needs admit as young affections,

And that sweet love unpartial perceives

Her dainty subjects through every part,

In chief receive these lessons from my lips,

The true discovers of a Virgins due,

Now requisite, now that I know thy mind

Something enclined to favour Manvils suit,

A gentleman, thy Lover in protest;

And that thou maist not be by love deceived,

But try his meaning fit for thy desert,

In pursuit of all amorous desires,

Regard thine honour. Let not vehement sighs,

Nor earnest vows importing fervent love,

Render thee subject to the wrath of lust:

For that, transformed to form of sweet delight,

Will bring thy body and thy soul to shame.

Chaste thoughts and modest conversations,

Of proof to keep out all inchaunting vows,

Vain sighs, forst tears, and pitiful aspects,

Are they that make deformed Ladies fair,

Poor rich: and such intycing men,

That seek of all but only present grace,

Shall in perseverance of a Virgins due

Prefer the most refusers to the choice

Of such a soul as yielded what they thought.

But ho: where is Trotter?

[Here enters Trotter, the Millers man, to them: And they

within call to him for their gryste.]

TROTTER.

Wheres Trotter? why, Trotter is here. Yfaith, you and your

daughter go up and down weeping and wamenting, and keeping of

a wamentation, as who should say, the Mill would go with your wamenting.

MILLER.

How now, Trotter? why complainest thou so?

TROTTER.

Why, yonder is a company of young men and maids, keep such a

stir for their grist, that they would have it before my stones

be ready to grind it. But, yfaith, I would I could break wind

enough backward: you should not tarry for your gryst, I

warrant you.

MILLER.

Content thee, Trotter, I will go pacify them.

TROTTER.

Iwis you will when I cannot. Why,