Shakespeare

“ LORD MOUNTNEY. Nature unjust, in utterance of thy art, To grace a peasant with a Princes fame! Peasant am I, so to misterm my love: Although a millers daughter by her birth, Yet may her beauty and her vertues well suffice To hide the blemish of her birth in hell, Where neither envious eyes nor thought can pierce, But endless darkness ever smother it. Go, William Conqueror, and seek thy love, Whilest I draw back and court mine own the while, Decking her body with such costly robes As may become her beauties worthiness ”

“ BLAUNCH. Mariana, well met. You are very forward in your Love? MARIANA. Madam, be it in secret spoken to your self, if you will but follow the complot I have invented, you will not think me so forward as your self shall prove fortunate. BLAUNCH. As how? MARIANA. Madam, as thus: It is not unknowen to you that Sir Robert of Windsor, a man that you do not little esteem, hath long importuned me of Love; but rather then I will be found false or unjust to the Marques Lubeck, I will, as did the constant lady Penelope, undertake to effect some great task. BLAUNCH. What of all this? ”

“ TROTTER. Yes, faith, even as long as I see you. EM. Go thy ways, I pray thee heartily. TROTTER. That same word (heartily) is of great force. I will go. But I pray, sir, beware you come not too near the wench. [Exit Trotter.] MANVILE. I am greatly beholding to you. Ah, Maistres, sometime I might have said, my love, But time and fortune hath bereaved me of that, And I, an object in those gratious eyes, That with remorse earst saw into my grief, May sit and sigh the sorrows of my heart. EM. In deed my Manvile hath some cause to doubt, When such a Swain is rival in his love! ”

“ You keep a pratling with your lips, But never a word you speak that I can hear. MOUNTNEY. What, is she deaf? a great impediment. Yet remedies there are for such defects. Sweet Em, it is no little grief to me, To see, where nature in her pride of art Hath wrought perfections rich and admirable— EM. Speak you to me, Sir? MOUNTNEY. To thee, my only joy. EM. I cannot hear you. MOUNTNEY. Oh, plague of Fortune! Oh hell without compare! What boots it us to gaze and not enjoy? EM. Fare you well, Sir. [Exit Em. Manet Mountney.] MOUNTNEY. Fare well, my love. ”

“ VALINGFORD. God speed, sir. Might a man crave a word or two with you? CITIZEN. God forbid else, sir; I pray you speak your pleasure. VALINGFORD. The gentleman that parted from you, was he not of Manchester, his father living there of good account? CITIZEN. Yes, marry is he, sir. Why do you ask? Belike you have had some acquaintance with him. VALINGFORD. I have been acquainted in times past, but, through his double dealing, I am growen weary of his company. For, be it spoken to you, he hath been acquainted with a poor millers daughter, and diverse times hath promist her marriage. ”

“ MOUNTNEY. The king may justly think we are to blame: But I imagined I might well be spared, And that no other man had borne my mind. VALINGFORD. The like did I: in friendship then resolve What is the cause of your unlookt for stay? MOUNTNEY. Lord Valingford, I tell thee as a friend, Love is the cause why I have stayed behind. VALINGFORD. Love, my Lord? of whom? MOUNTNEY. Em, the millers daughter of Manchester. VALINGFORD. But may this be? MOUNTNEY. Why not, my Lord? I hope full well you know That love respects no difference of state, So beauty serve to stir affection. ”

“ WILLIAM. Is this the colour of your quarrel, Zweno? I well perceive the wisest men may err. And think you I conveyed away your daughter Blanch? ZWENO. Art thou so impudent to deny thou didst, When that the proof thereof is manifest? WILLIAM. What proof is there? ZWENO. Thine own confession is sufficient proof. WILLIAM. Did I confess I stole your daughter Blanch? ZWENO. Thou didst confess thou hadst a Lady hence. WILLIAM. I have, and do. ZWENO. Why, that was Blanch, my daughter. WILLIAM. Nay, that was Mariana, Who wrongfully thou detainest prisoner. ZWENO. Shameless persisting in thy ill! ”

“ ZWENO. Stand up, dear daughter: though thy fault deserves For to be punisht in the extremest sort, Yet love, that covers multitude of sins, Makes love in parents wink at childrens faults. Sufficeth, Blaunch, thy father loves thee so, Thy follies past he knows but will not know. And here, Duke William, take my daughter to thy wife, For well I am assured she loves thee well. WILLIAM. A proper conjunction! as who should say, Lately come out of the fire, I would go thrust my self into the flame. Let Maistres nice go Saint it where she list, And coyly quaint it with dissembling face. ”

“ EM. Where are you, sir? will you never leave this idle and vain pursuit of love? Is not England stord enough to content you, but you must still trouble the poor contemptible maid of Manchester? VALINGFORD. None can content me but the fair maid of Manchester. EM. I perceive love is vainly described, that, being blind himself, would have you likewise troubled with a blind wife, having the benefit of your eyes. But neither follow him so much in folly, but love one in whom you may better delight. VALINGFORD. Father Miller, thy daughter shall have honor by graunting me her love. ”

“ ZWENO. I joy to see your grace so tractable. Here, take my daughter Blanch; And after my decease the Denmark crown. WILLIAM. Now, sir, how stands the case with you? MANVILLE. I partly am persuaded as your grace is, My lord, he is best at ease that medleth least. VALINGFORD. Sir, may a man Be so bold as to crave a word with you? MANVILLE. Yea, two or three: what are they? VALINGFORD. I say, this maid will have thee to her husband. MOUNTNEY. And I say this: and thereof will I lay An hundred pound. VALINGFORD. And I say this: whereon I will lay as much. ”

“ 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 ”

“ A body were it framed of wax By all the cunning artists of the world, It could not better be proportioned. LUBECK. How now, Sir Robert? in a study, man? Here is no time for contemplation. ROBERT WINDSOR. My Lord, there is a certain odd conceit, Which on the sudden greatly troubles me. LUBECK. How like you Blanch? I partly do perceive The little boy hath played the wag with you. SIR ROBERT. The more I look the more I love to look. Who says that Mariana is not fair? I’ll gage my gauntlet gainst the envious man That dares avow there liveth her compare. ”

“ For I will go parlay with the Prince my self. DEMARCH. Should Zweno by this parlay call you foorth, Upon intent injuriously to deal, This offereth too much opportunity. WILLIAM. No, no, Demarch, That were a breach against the law of Arms: Therefore begone, and leave us here alone. [Exeunt.] I see that Zweno is maister of his word. Zweno, William of Saxony greeteth thee, Either well or ill, according to thy intent. If well thou wish to him and Saxony, He bids thee friendly welcome as he can. If ill thou wish to him and Saxony, He must withstand thy malice as he may. ”

“ ZWENO. It seems to me, she hath refused him. MARQUES. Why, theres the spite. ZWENO. If one refuse him, yet may he have the other. MARQUES. He will ask but her good will, and all her friends. ZWENO. Might I advise thee, let them both alone. MANVILLE. Yea, thats the course, and thereon will I stand. Such idle love hencefoorth I will detest. VALINGFORD. The Fox will eat no grapes, and why? MOUNTNEY. I know full well, because they hand too high. WILLIAM. And may it be a Millers daughter by her birth? I cannot think but she is better borne. ”

“ MILLER. Alas, gentleman, why should you trouble your self so much, considering the imperfections of my daughter, which is able to with-draw the love of any man from her, as already it hath done in her first choice. Maister Manville hath forsaken her, and at Chester shall be married to a mans daughter of no little wealth. But if my daughter knew so much, it would go very near her heart, I fear me. VALINGFORD. Father miller, such is the entire affection to your daughter, as no misfortune whatsoever can alter. My fellow Mountney, thou seest, gave quickly over ”

“ WILLIAM. Conseit hath wrought such general dislike, Through the false dealing of Mariana, That utterly I do abhore their sex. They are all disloyal, unconstant, all unjust: Who tries as I have tried, and finds as I have found, Will say theres so such creatures on the ground. BLANCH. Unconstant Knight, though some deserve no trust, Theres others faithful, loving, loyal, and just. [Enter to them Valingford with Em and the Miller, and Mountney, and Manville, and Elner.] WILLIAM. How now, Lord Valingford, what makes these women here? ”

“ EM. Good father, let me not stand as an open gazing stock to every one, but in a place alone, as fits a creature so miserable. MILLER. Trotter, lead her in, the utter overthrow of poor Goddards joy and only solace. [Exit the Miller, Trotter and Em.] MANVILLE. Both blind and deaf! Then is she no wife for me; and glad am I so good occasion is hapned: Now will I away to Chester, and leave these gentlemen to their blind fortune. [Exit Manville.] MOUNTNEY. Since fortune hath thus spitefully crost our hope, let us leave this quest and harken after our King, who is at this day landed at Lirpoole. ”

“ VALINGFORD. Sir Thomas Goddard hight this reverent man Famed for his vertues, and his good success: Whose fame hath been renowmed through the world. WILLIAM. Sir Thomas Goddard, welcome to thy Prince; And, fair Em, frolic with thy good father; As glad am I to find Sir Thomas Goddard, As good Sir Edmund Treford, on the plains: He like a sheepheard, and thou our country Miller. MILLER. And longer let not Goddard live a day Then he in honour loves his soveraigne. WILLIAM. But say, Sir Thomas, shall I give thy daughter? ”

“ For as I hear, she likewise loved the man, Which he, to blame, did not at all regard. [Enter Rocillio and Mariana.] ROCILLIO. My Lord, here is the Princess Mariana; It is your daughter is conveyed away. ZWENO. What, my daughter gone? Now, Marques, your villainy breaks forth. This match is of your making, gentle sir, And you shall dearly know the price thereof. LUBECK. Knew I thereof, or that there was intent In Robert thus to steal your highness daughter, Let leavens in Justice presently confound me. ZWENO. Not all the protestations thou canst use Shall save thy life. ”

“ Ah me, whom chiefly and most of all it doth concern, To spend my time in grief and vex my soul, To think my love should be rewarded thus, And for thy sake abhor all womenkind! EM. May not a maid look upon a man Without suspitious judgement of the world? ”

“ 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? ”

“ WILLIAM. I hold that man most shameless in his sin That seeks to wrong an honest Ladies name Whom he thinks worthy of his marriage bed. MARIANA. In hope your oath is true, I leave your grace till the appointed time. [Exit Mariana.] WILLIAM. O happy William, blessed in th love, Most fortunate in Mariana’s love! Well, Lubeck, well, this courtesy of thine I will requite, if God permit me life. [Exit.] SCENE II. Manchester. Near the Mill. [Enter Valingford and Mountney at two sundry doors, looking angrily each on other with Rapiers drawn.] ”

“ My daughter stolen away!— It booteth not thus to disturb my self, But presently to send to English William, To send me that proud knight of Windsor hither, Here in my Court to suffer for his shame, Or at my pleasure to be punished there, Withall that Blanch be sent me home again, Or I shall fetch her unto Windsors cost, Yea, and Williams too, if he deny her me. [Exit Zweno and the rest.] SCENE VI. England. Camp of the Earl Demarch. [Enter William, taken with soldiers.] WILLIAM. Could any cross, could any plague be worse? ”

“ Only revengement of a private grudge By Lord Dirot lately profered me, That stands not with the honor of my name, Is cause I have assembled for my guard Some men in arms that may withstand his force, Whose settled malice aimeth at my life. WILLIAM. Where is Lord Dirot? DEMARCH. In arms, my gratious Lord, Not past two miles from hence, as credibly I am assertained. WILLIAM. Well; come, let us go. I fear I shall find traitors of you both. [Exit.]
ACT IV. SCENE I. Chester. Before the Citizen’s House. [Enter the Citizen of Chester, and his daughter Elner, and Manville.] ”

“ 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. ”