A Pleasa [...] Commodie, of faire Em the Millers daughter of Manchester: VVith the loue of William the Conqueror:

As it was sundrie times publiquely acted in the honourable citie of London, by the right honourable the Lord Strange his seruaunts.

Imprinted at London for T.N. and I.VV. and are to be solde in S. Dunstones Church­yarde in Fleete-streete.


A Pleasant Commodie of faire Em the Millers daughter of Manchester. With the loue of [...]iam the Conquerour.

Actus Primus

Scaena prima.

Enter William the Conqueror: Marques Lubeck, with a picture: Mountney: Manuile: Valingford: and Duke Dirot.
WHat meanes faire Britaines mighty Conqueror
So suddenly to cast away his staffe?
And all in passion, to forsake the tylt.
D. Dirot.
My Lord, this triumph we solemnise here,
Is for meere loue to your increasing ioyes:
Only expecting cheerefull lookes for all.
What sudden pangs than moues your maiestie,
To dimme the brightnes of the day with frownes?
W. Conqueror.
Ah: good my Lords, misconster not the cause:
At least, suspect not my displeased browes
I amorously do beare to your intent:
For thanks and all that you can wish I yeeld.
But that which makes me blush and shame to tell,
Is cause why thus I turne my conquering eyes
To cowardes lookes and beaten fantasies.
Since wee are giltlesse, wee the lesse dismay
To see this sudden change possesse [...] cheere:
For if it issue from your owne conceits,
Bred by suggestion of some enuious thoughts:
Your highnes wisdome may suppresse it straight.
Yet tell vs (good my Lord) what thought it is,
That thus bereaues you of your late content,
That in aduise we may assist your grace,
Or bend our forces to reuiue your spirits.
W Con.
Ah Marques Lubeck, in thy power it lyes
To rid my bosome of these thraled dumps:
And therefore, good my Lords forbeare awhile,
That we may parley of these priuate cares,
[Page]Whose strength subdues me more than all the world.
We goe and wishe thee priuate conference,
Publicke affectes in this accustomed peace.
Exit all but William and the Marques.
Now Marques must a Conquerer at armes
disclose himselfe thrald to vnarmed thoughts,
And threatned of a shaddowe, yeeld to lust:
No sooner had my sparkeling eyes beheld
The flames of beautie blasing on this peece,
But sodenly a sence of myracle
Imagined on thy louely Maistres face,
Made me abandon bodily regarde,
And cast all pleasures on my woonded soule:
Then gentle Marques tell me what she is,
That thus thou honourest on thy warlike shield.
And if thy loue and interest be such,
As iustly may giue place to myne,
That if it be: my soule with honors wings
May fly into the bosome of my deere.
Yf not, close them and stoope into my graue.
Yf this be all renowned Conquerer:
Aduance your drooping spirites, and reuiue
The wonted courage of your Conquering minde,
For this faire picture painted on my shield
Is the true counterfeit of lo [...] Blaunch
Princes and daughter to the King of Danes:
Whose beautie and excesse of ornamentes
Deserues another manner of defence
Pompe and high person to attend her state,
Then Marques Lubeck any way presents.
Therefore her vertues I resigne to thee,
Alreadie shrinde in thy religious brest,
To be aduaunced and honoured to the full.
Nor beare I this an argument of loue:
But to renowne faire Blaunch my Soueraignes child,
In euerie place where I by armes may do it.
Ah Marques, thy wordes bring heauen vnto my soule,
And had I heauen to giue for thy reward:
Thou shouldst be thronde in no vnworthie place.
But let my vttermost wealth suffice thy worth,
Which here I vowe, and to aspire the blisse
That hangs on quicke atchiuement of my loue,
Thy selfe and I will traueile in disguise,
To bring this Ladie to our Brittaine Court.
Let VVilliam but bethinke what may auayle,
And let me die if I denie my ayde.
Then thus the Duke Dirot and Therle Dimach
Will I leaue substitutes to rule my Realme,
While mightie loue forbids my being here,
And in the name of Sir Robert of VVindsor
Will goe with thee vnto the Danish Court.
Keepe VVilliams secretes Marques if thou loue him.
Bright Blaunch I come, sweete fortune fauour me,
And I will laud thy name eternally.
Enter the Miller, and Em his daughter.
Come daughter we must learne to shake of pomp,
To leaue the state that carst beseemd a Knight
And gentleman of no meane discent,
To vndertake this homelie millers trade:
Thus must we maske to saue our wr [...]ed liues,
Threatned by Conquest of this haplesse Yle:
Whose sad inuasions by the Conqueror,
Haue made a number such as we subiect
Their gentle neckes vnto their stubborne yoke,
Of drudging labour and base pesantrie.
Sir Thomas Godard now old Goddard is
Goddard the miller of faire Manchester.
Why should not I content me with this state?
As good Sir Edmund Trofferd did the f [...]ile.
And thou sweete Em must stoope to high estate.
To ioyne with mine that thus we may protect
[Page]Our harmeles liues, which ledd in greater port
Would be an enuious obiect to our foes,
That seeke to roote all Britaines Gentrie
From bearing countenance against their tyrannie.
Good Father let my full resolued thoughts,
Wi [...]h setled pa [...]iens to support this chaunce
Be some poore comfort to your aged soule:
For therein restes the height of my estate,
That you are pleased with this deiection,
And that all toyles my hands may vndertake,
May serue to worke your worthines content.
Thankes my deere Daughter: these thy plesant words
Transferre my soule into a second heauen:
And in thy setled minde, my ioyes consist,
My state reuyued and I in former plight.
Although our outward pomp be thus abased,
And thralde to drudging, stay lesse of the world,
Let vs retaine those honorable mindes
Thar lately gouerned our superior state.
Wherein true gentrie is the only meane
That makes vs differ from base millers borne:
Though we expect no knightly delicates,
Nor thirst in soule for former soueraintie.
Yet may our myndes as highly scorne to stoope
To base desires of vulgars worldlynes,
As if we were in our presedent way.
And louely daughter, since thy youthfull yeares
Must needes admit as yong affections:
And that sweete loue vnpartiall perceiues
Her daintie subiects through euery part,
In chiefe receiue these lessons from my lippes.
The true discouerers of a Virgins due
Now requisite, now that I know thy mynde
Somthing enclynde to fauour Manuils sute,
A gentleman, thy Louer in protest:
And that thou maist not be by loue deceiued,
[Page]But trye his meaning fit for thy desert,
In pursuite of all amorous desires,
Regard thine honour. Let not vehement sighes
Nor earnest vowes importing feruent loue,
Render thee subiect to the wrath of lust:
For that transformed to former sweete delight,
Will bring thy bodie and thy soule to shame.
Chaste thoughts and modest conuersations
Of proofe to keepe out all inchaunting vowes,
Vaine sighes, forst teares, and pittifull aspectes,
Are they that make deformed Ladies faire,
Poore wretch, and such intycing men,
That seeke of all but onely present grace,
Shall in perseuerance of a Virgins due
Prefer the most refusers to the choyce
Of such a soule as yeelded what they thought.
But hoe: where is Trotter?
Here enters Trotter the Millers man to them: And they within call to him for their gryste.
Wheres Trotter? why Trotter is here.
yfaith, you and your daughter go vp and downe weeping,
And wamenting and keeping of a wamentation,
As who should saye, the Mill would go with your wamenting.
How now Trotter? why complainest thou so.

Why yonder is a company of yong men and m [...]ydes Keepe such a styr for their grist, that they would haue it before my stones be readie to grinde it. But yfaith, I would I coulde breake winde enough backward: you should not tarrie for your gryst I warrant you.Here he [...] Em abo [...] necke.

Content thee Trotter, I will go pacifie them.
I wis you will when I cannot. Why looke,
You haue a Mill. Why, whats your Mill without mee?
Or rather Mistres, what were I without you?
Nay Trotter, if you fall achyding, I wil giue you cuer.
I chyde you dame to amend you.
You are too fyne to be a Millers daughter:
[Page]For if you should but stoope to take vp the tole dish
You will haue the crampe in your finger
At least ten weekes after.
Ah well said Trotter, teach her to plaie the good huswife
And thou shalt haue her to thy wife, if thou canst get her good will.
Ah words wherein I see Matrimonie come load [...]n
With kisses to salute me: Now let me alone, to pick the Mill,
To fill the hopper to take the tole to mend the sayles,
Yea, and to make the mill to goe with the verie force of my loue.
Here they must call for their gryst within.
I come I come, yfaith now you shall haue your gryst
Or else Trotter will trot and amble himselfe to death.
They call him againe. Exit.
Enter king of Denmarke, with some attendants, Blanch his daughter, Mariana, Marques Lubeck, VVilliam disguised.
King of Denmarke.
Lord Marques Lubecke welcome home,
Welcome braue Knight vnto the Denmarke King:
For Williams sake the noble Norman Duke,
So famous for his fortunes and successe,
That graceth him with name of Conqueror:
Right double welcome must thou be to vs.
Rob. VVindsor.
And to my Lord the king shall I recount
Your graces courteous entertainment,
That for his sake vouchsafe to honor me
A simple Knight attendant on his grace.
King Den.
But saie Sir Knight, what may I call your name.
Robert VVindsor.
Robert Windsor and like your Maiestie.
King Den.
I tell thee Robert, I so admire the man,
As that I count it haynous guilt in him
That honors not Duke William with his heart.
Blanch, bid this straunger welcome, good my gyrle.
Sir, should I neglect your highnes charge herein,
It might be thought of base discourtesie.
Welcome Sir Knight to Denmarke hartelie.
Ro. VVinds.
Thanks gentle Ladie. Lord Marques, what is shee?
That same is Blanch daughter to the King,
The substance of the shadow that you saw.
Rob. windsor.
May this be shee, for whome I crost the Seas?
I am ashamde to think I was so fond.
In whom thers nothing that contents my mynd.
Ill head, worse featurde, vncomly, nothing courtly.
Swart and ill fauoured, a Colliers sanguin skinne.
I neuer sawe a harder fauourd slut.
Loue her? for what: I can no whit abide her.
King of Denmark.
Mariana, I haue this day receiued letters
From Swethia, that lets me vnderstand,
your raunsome is collecting there with speede,
And shortly shalbe hither sent to vs.
Not that I finde occasion of mislike
My entertainment in your graces court,
But that I long to see my natiue home.
king Den.
And reason haue you Madam for the same:
Lord Marques I commit vnto your charge
The entertainement of Sir Robert here,
Let him remaine with you within the Court
In solace and disport, to spend the time.
Exit king of Denmarke.
Robert Wind.
I thank your hightnes, whose bounden I remaine.
Blanch speaketh this secretly at one end of the stage.
Vnhappie Blanch, what strange effects are these
That workes within my thoughts confusedly,
That still me thinks affection drawes me on
To take, to like, nay more, to loue this Knight.
Robert. Wind.
A modest countenance, no heauie sullen looke,
Not verie fayer, but ritchly deckt with fauour:
A sweete face, an exceding daintie hand,
A bodie were it framed of wax
By all the cunning artists of the world
It could not better be proportioned.
How now Sir Robert? in a studie man?
[Page]Here is no tyme for contemplation.
Robert Windsor.
My Lord, there is a certaine odd conceite,
Which on the sudden greatly troubles me.
How like you Blaunch? I partly do perceiue
The little boy hath played the wagg with you.
Sir Robert.
The more I looke, the more I loue to looke.
Who seyes that Mariana is not faire?
Ile gage my gauntlet gainst the enuious man,
That dares auowe there liueth her compare.
Sir Robert, you mistake your counterfeit.
This is the Ladie which you came to see.
Sir Robert.
yea, my Lord: Shee is counterfait in deede:
For there is the substance that best contents me.
That is my loue. Sir Robert you do wrong me.
The better for you sir, she is your Loue,
As for the wrong, I see not how it growes.
In seeking that which is an others right.
As who should saie your loue were priuileged
That none might looke vpon her but your selfe.
These iarres becomes not our familiaritie,
Nor will I stand on termes to moue your patience.
Why my Lord, am not I of flesh and bloud as well as you?
Then giue me leaue to loue as well as you.
To Loue Sir Robert? but whome? not she I Loue?
Nor stands it with the honor of my state,
To brooke corriuals with me in my loue.
So Sir, we are thorough for that L.
Ladies farewell. Lord Marques, will you go?
I will finde a time to speake with her I trowe?
With all my heart. Come Ladies wil you walk?
Enter Manuile alone disguised.
Ah Em the subiect of my restlesse thoughts,
The Anuyle whereupon my heart doth beate,
Framing thy state to thy desert,
Full yll this life becomes thy heauenly looke,
Wherein, sweete loue and vertue sits enthroned.
[Page]Bad world, where riches is esteemd aboue them both,
In whose base eyes nought else is bountifull.
A Millers daughter, sayes the multitude,
Should not be loued of a Gentleman.
But let them breath their soules into the ayre:
Yet will I still affect thee as my selfe,
So thou be constant in thy plighted vowe.
But here comes one, I wil listen to his talke.
Enter Valingford at another dore, Man [...] hidi [...] selfe. disguised
Goe William Conqueror and seeke thy loue.
Seeke thou a mynion in a forren land
Whilest I drawe back and court my loue at home,
The millers daughter of faire Manchester
Hath bound my feete to this delight some soyle:
And from her eyes do dart such golden beames,
That holdes my harte in her subiection.
He ruminates on my beloued choyce:
God graunt he come not to preuent my hope.
But heres another, him yle listen to.
Enter Mountney disguised at another dore.
L. Mountney.
Nature vniust, in vtterance of thy arte,
To grace a pesant with a Princes fame:
Pesant am I so to misterme my loue
Although a millers daughter by her birth:
Yet may her beautie and her vertues well suffice
To hyde the blemish of her birth in hell,
Where neither enuious eyes nor thought can perce,
But endlesse darknesse euer smother it.
Goe William Conqueror and seeke thy loue,
Whilest I drawe back and court mine owne the while:
Decking her bodie with such costly robes
As may become her beauties worthynes,
That so thy labors may be laughed to scorne,
And she thou seekest in forraine regions,
Be darkened and eclipst when she arriues,
By one that I haue chosen neerer home.
What comes he to, to intercept my loue?
Then hye thee Manuile to forestall such foes.
Exit Manuile
What now Lord Valingford are you behind?
The king had chosen you to goe with him.
So chose he you, therefore I marueile much
That both of vs should linger in this sort.
What may the king imagine of our staye?
The king may iustly think we are to blame:
But I immagined I might well be spared
And that no other man had borne my mind.
The like did I: in frendship then resolue
What is the cause of your vnlookt for stay?
Lord Valingford I tell thee as a friend,
Loue is the cause why I haue stayed behind.
Loue my Lord? of whome.
Em the millers daughter of Manchester.
But may this be?
Why not my Lord? I hope full well you know
That loue respectes no difference of state
So beautie serue to stirr affection.
But this it is that makes me wonder most:
That you and I should be of one conseite
In such a straunge vnlikly passion.
But is that true? my Lord: I hope you do but iest.
I would I did: then were my griefe the lesse.
Nay neuer grieue: for if the cause be such
To ioyne our thoughts in such a Simpathy:
All enuie set asyde: let vs agree
To yeeld to eythers fortune in this choyce.
Content say I, and what so ere befall,
Shake hands my Lord and fortune thriue at all.
Enter Em and Trotter the Millers man with a kerchife on his head, and an Vrinall in his hand.
Trotter where haue you beene?
Where haue I bene? why what signifies this.
A kerchiefe, doth it not?
What call you this I praye?
I saie it is an Vrinall.
Then this is mystically to giue you to vnderstand
I haue beene at the Phismicaries house.
How long hast thou beene sicke?
Yfaith, euen as long as I haue not beene halfe well,
And that hath beene a long time.
A loytering time I rather immagine.
It may be so: but the Phismicary tels me that you can help me
Why, any thing I can do for recouerie of thy health,
Be right well assured of.
Then giue me your hand
To what end.
That the ending of an old indenture
Is the beginning of a new bargaine.
What bargaine?
That you promised to do any thing to recouer my helth.
On that condition I giue thee my hand.
Ah sweete Em.
Here he offers to kisse her.
How now Trotter? your maisters daughter?
Yfaith I aime at the fairest,
Ah Em, sweet Em: fresh as the flowre:
That hath poure to wound my harte,
And ease my smart, of me poore theefe,
In prison bounde.
So all your ryme lies on the grounde.
But what meanes this?
Ah marke the deuise,
For thee my louefull sicke I was, in hazard of my life
Thy promise was to make me whole, and for to be my wife.
Let me inioye my loue my deere,
And thou possesse thy Trottter here.
But I meant no such matter.
Yes woos but you did, Ile goe to our Parson Sir Iohn
And he shall mumble vp the marriage out of hand.
But here comes one that will forbid the Banes.
[Page] Here Enters Manuile to them.
Ah Sir you come too late.
What remedie Trotter.
Goe Trotter, my father calles.
Would you haue me goe in, and leaue you two here?
Why, darest thou not trust me?
Yes faith, euen as long as I see you.
Goe thy waies I praye thee hartely.
That same word (hartely) is of great force.
I will goe: but I praye sir, beware you
Come not too neere the wench.
Exit Trotter.
I am greatly beholding to you
Ah Maistres, somtime I might haue said my loue,
But time and fortune hath bereued me of that,
And I am abiect in those gratious eyes
That with remorse earst sawe into my griefe,
May sit and sigh the sorowes of my heart.
In deede my Manuile hath some cause to doubt,
When such a Swaine is riuall in his loue.
Ah Em, were he the man that causeth this mistrust,
I should esteeme of thee as at the first.
But is my loue in earnest all this while?
Beleeue me Em, it is not time to iest
VVhen others ioyes, what lately I possest.
If touching loue, my Manuile charge me thus?
Vnkindly must I take it at his handes,
For that my conscience cleeres me of offence.
Ah impudent and shamelesse in thy ill,
That with thy cunning and defraudfull toung,
Seekese to delude the honest meaning minde:
Was neuer heard in Manchester before,
Of true louer then hath beene betwixte vs twaine:
And for my parte how I haue hazarded
Displeasure of my father and my freindes
Thy selfe can witnes. Yet notwithstanding this:
Two genlemen attending on Duke William
Mountney and Valingford, as I heard them named,
[Page]Oft times resort to see and to be seene,
Walking the streete fast by thy fathers dore,
VVhose glauncing eyes vp to the windowes cast,
Giues testies of their Maisters amorous hart.
This Em is noted and too much talked on.
Some see it without mistrust of ill.
Others there are that scorning grynne thereat,
And saith, there goes the millers daughters wooers.
Ah me, whome chiefely and most of all it doth concerne
To spend my time in griefe and vexe my soule,
To thinke my loue should be rewarded thus,
And for thy sake abhore all women kind.
May not a maide looke vpon a man
Without suspitious iudgement of the world?
If sight do moue offence, it is the better not to see.
But thou didst more vnconstant as thou art,
For with them thou hadst talke and conference.
May not a maide talke with a man without mistrust?
Not with such men suspected amorous.
I grieue to see my Manuiles ielosie
Ah Em, faithfull loue is full of ielosie,
So did I loue thee true and faithfully,
For which I am rewarded most vnthankfully.
Exit in a rage, Manet Em.
And so awaie? what in displeasure gone?
And left me such a bitter sweete to gnawe vpon?
Ah Manuile, little wottest thou,
How neere this parting goeth to my heart.
Vncourteous loue whose followers reapes reward,
Of hate, disdaine, reproach and infamie,
The fruit of frantike, bedlome ielozie.
Here enter Mountney to Em.
But here comes one of these suspitious men:
VVitnes my God without desert of me:
For onely Manuile honor I in harte:
Nor shall vnkindnes cause me from him to starte.
For this good fortune, Venus be thou blest,
To meete my loue, the mistres of my heart,
Where time and place giues oportunitie
At full to let her vnderstand my loue.
He turnes to Em, & offers to take her by the hand, & shee goes from him.
Faire mistres, since my fortune sorts so well:
Heare you a word. What meaneth this?
Nay stay faire Em.
I am going homewards, syr:
Yet stay sweete loue to whom I must disclose
The hidden secrets of a louers thoughts,
Not doubting but to finde such kinde remorse
As naturally you are enclyned to.
The Gentle-man your friend Syr.
I haue not seene him this foure dayes at the least.
Whats that to me? I speak not sweete in person of my friend,
But for my selfe, whom if that loue deserue
To haue regard being honourable loue:
Not base affects of loose lasciuious loue:
Whome youthfull wantons play and dally with:
But that vnites in honourable bands of holy rytes,
And knits the sacred knot that Gods.
Here Em cuts him off.
What meane you sir, to keepe me here so long?
I cannot vnderstand you by your sygnes.
You keepe a pratling with your lippes,
But neuer a word you speake that I can heare.
What is shee deafe? a great impediment.
Yet remedies there are for such defects.
Sweete Em, it is no little griefe to mee,
To see where nature in her pryde of art
Hath wrought perfections ritch and admirable.
Speake you to mee Sir?
To thee my onely ioy.
I cannot heare you.
Oh plague of Fortune: Oh hell without compare.
What bootes it vs to gaze and not enioy?
Fare you well Sir.
Exit Em. Manet Mountney.
Fare well my loue. Nay farewell life and all.
Could I procure redresse for this infirmitie,
It might be meanes shee would regard my sute.
I am acquainted with the Kings Phisitions:
Amongst the which, theres one mine honest friend,
Seignior Alberto, a verie learned man.
His iudgement will I haue to help this ill.
Ah Em, faire Em, if Art can make thee whole:
Ile buy that sence for thee, although it cost mee deere.
But Mountney: stay, this may be but deceit,
A matter fained onely to delude thee.
And not vnlike, perhaps by Valingford,
He loues faire Em as well as I.
As well as I? ah no, not halfe so well.
Put case, yet may he be thine enimie,
And giue her counsell to dissemble thus.
Ile try the euent, and if it fall out so?
Frindship farewell: Loue makes me now a foe.
Exit Mountney.
Enter Marques Lubeck, and Mariana.
Trust me my Lord, I am sorie for your hurt.
Gramercie Madam: but it is not great:
Onely a thrust, prickt with a Rapiers point.
How grew the quarrel my Lord?
Sweet Ladie, for thy sake.
There was this last night two maskes in one company,
My selfe the formost: The other strangers were:
Amongst the which, when the Musick began to sound the Measures,
Eche Masker made choice of his Ladie:
And one more forward than the rest stept towards thee:
Which I perceiuing thrust him aside, and tooke thee my selfe.
But this was taken in so ill parte,
That at my comming out of the court gate, with iustling togither,
It was my chaunce to be thrust into the arme.
The doer thereof because he was the originall cause of the disorder
At that inconuenient time, was presently committed,
[Page]And is this morning sent for to aunswer the matter:
[...]enters Sir [...]rr of [...]for with [...]lor.
And I think here he comes. What Sir Robert of Windsor how now?
Sir Robert.
Yfaith my Lord a prisoner: but what ayles your arme?
Hurte the last night by mischaunce.
Sir Robert.
What, not in the maske at the Court gate?
Yes trust me there.
Sir Rob.
Why then my Lorde I thank you for my nights lodging.
And I you for my hurt, if it were so?
Keeper awaie, I discharge you of your prisoner.
Exit the Keeper.
Sir Robert.
Lord Marques, you offerd me disgrace to shoulder me.
Sir I knew you not, and therefore you must pardon me
And the rather it might be alleaged to me of
Meare simplisitie, to see another daunce with my Maistris
disguysed, and I my selfe in presence: but seeing it
Was our happs to damnifie each other vnwillingly,
Let vs be content with our harmes,
And laye the fault where it was and so become friendes.
Sir Robert.
Yfaith I am content with my nights lodging
If you be content with your hurt.
Not content that I haue it, but content
To forget how I came by it.
Sir Robert.
My Lord, here comes Ladie Blannch, lets away.
Enter Blaunch.
With good will, Ladie you will staie?
Exit Lubeck and Sir Robert.
Mariana, as I am grieued with thy presence:
So am I not offended for thy absence,
And were it not a breach to modestie,
Thou shouldest know before I left thee.
How neare is this humor to madnesse
If yon hould on as you begyn, you
are in a pretie waie to scoulding.
To scoulding huswife?
Maddam here comes one,
Here enters one with a letter.
There doth in deed. Fellow wouldest thou haue any thing with any bodie here?
I haue a letter to deliuer to the Ladie Mariana.
Giue it me.
There must none but shee haue it.
Blaunch snatcheth the letter from him. Et exit messenger.
Go to foolish fellow.
And therefore to ease the anger I sustaine,
Ile be so bolde to open it, whats here?
Sir Robert greets you well?
Your Maistries, his loue, his life? Oh amorous man,
How he entertaines his new Maistres?
And bestowes on Lubeck his od friend
A horne night capp to keepe in his witt.
Maddam though you haue discourteously
Redd my letter, yet I praye you giue it me.
Then take it there, and there, and there.
She teares it. Et exit Blannch.
How farr doth this differ from modestie:
Yet will I gather vp the peeces, which happelie
May shew to me the intent thereof
Though not the meaning.
She gathers vpp the peeces and ioynes them.
Your seruant and loue sir Robert of Windsor
Alius William the Conqueror, wisheth long health and happinesse.
Is this William the Conqueror, shrouded vnder
The name of sir Robert of VVindsor?
Were he the Monarch of the world
He should not disposesse Lubeck of his Loue.
Therefore I will to the Court, and there if I can
Close to be friendes with Ladie Blaunch,
And thereby keepe Lubeck my Loue for my selfe:
And further the Ladie Blaunch in her sute as much as I may.
Enter Emsolus.
Ielosie that sharpes the louers sight,
And makes him conceiue and conster his intent,
[Page]Hath so bewitched my louely Manuils sences,
That he misdoubts his Em that loues his soule.
He doth suspect corriuals in his loue:
Which how vntrue it is, be iudge my God.
But now no more: Here commeth Valingford:
Shift him off noww as thou hast done the other.
Enter Valingford.
See how Fortune presents me with the hope I lookt for.
Fair Em?
Who is that?
I am Valingford thy loue and friend.
I cry you mercie Sir: I thought so by your speach.
What ayleth thy eyes?
Oh blinde Sir, blinde, striken blind by mishap on a sudden.
But is it possible you should be taken on such a suddain?
Infortunate Valingford to be thus crost in thy loue.
Faire Em, I am not a little sorie to see this thy hard hap:
Yet neuerthelesse, I am acquainted with a learned Phisitian,
That will do any thing for thee at my request.
To him will I resort, and enquire his iudgement,
As concerning the recouerie of so excellent a fence.
O Lord Sir: and of all things I cannot abide Phisicke:
The verie name thereof to me is odious.
No? not the thing will doe thee so much good?
Sweete Em, hether I came to parley of loue
Hoping to haue found thee in thy woonted prosperitie.
And haue the gods so vnmercifully thwarted my expectation?
By dealing so finisterly with thee sweete Em?
Good sir, no more, it fits not me
To haue respect to such vaine fantasies,
As idle loue presentes my eares withall,
More reason I should ghostlie giue my selfe,
To sacred prayers for this my former sinne,
For which this plague is iustly fallen vpon me,
Then to harken to the vanities of loue.
Yet sweet Em accept this iewell at my hand
Which I bestowe on thee in token of my loue.
A iewell sir, what pleasure can I haue
In iewels, treasure, or any worldly thing
That want my sight that should deserne thereof.
Ah sir I must leaue you:
The paine of mine eyes is so extreame
I cannot long staie in a place. I take my leaue.
Exit Em.
Zoundes, what a crosse is this to my conceite?
But Valingford, serch the depth of this deuise.
Why may not this be fained subteltie,
By Mountneies inuention, to the intent
That I seeing such occasion should leaue off my sute,
And not any more persiste to solicite her of loue.
Ile trie the euent, if I can by any meanes perceaue
The effect of this deceyte to be procured by his meanes,
Freind Mountney the one of vs is like to repent our bargeine.
Enter Mariana and Marques Lubeck.
Ladie, since that occasion forward in our good
Presenteth place and opportunitie:
Let me intreat your woonted kind consent
And freindly furtherance in a suite I haue.
My Lord you know you neede not to intreat,
But may commaund Mariana to her power
Be it no impeachment to my honest fame.
Free are my thoughts from such base villanie
As may in question Ladie call your name:
Yet is the matter of such consequence
Standing vpon my honorable credit,
To be effected with such zeale and secresie,
As should I speake and faile my expectation
I would redound greatly to my preiudice.
My Lord wherein hath Mariana giuen you occasion
That you should mistrust or else be ielous of my secrecie.
Mariana, do not misconster of me:
I not mistrust thee, nor thy secresie,
Nor let my loue misconster my intente,
Nor think thereof but well and honorable.
[Page]Thus stands the case: Thou knowest from England
Hether came with me Robert of VVindsor, a noble man at Armes,
Lustie and valiant, in spring time of his yeares,
No maruell then though he proue amorous.
True my Lord, he came to see faire Blanch.
No Mariana, that is non it.
His loue to Blanch was then extinct
When first he sawe thy face.
Tis thee he loues: yea, thou art onely shee
That is maistres and commaunder of his thoughts.
Well well my Lord, I like you, for such driftes
Put silly Ladies often to their shiftes
Oft haue I heard you saye, you loued me well:
Yea, sworne the same, and I beleeued you to.
Can this be found an action of good faith,
Thus to dissemble where you found true loue?
Mariana, I not dissemble on mine honour:
Nor failes my faith to thee. But for my friend,
For princely William, by whom thou shalt possesse
The tytle of estate and Maiestie,
Fitting thy loue and vertues of thy minde,
For him I speake, for him do I intreat,
And with thy fauour fully do resigne
To him the claime and interest of my loue.
Sweete Mariana then denie mee not.
Loue William, loue my friend and honour mee
Who els is cleane dishonored by thy meanes.
Borne to mishap, my selfe am onely shee,
On whome the Sunne of Fortune neuer shyned:
But Planets rulde by retrogard aspect,
Foretolde mine yll in my natiuitie.
Sweete Ladie seace, let my intreatie serue
To pacifie the passion of thy griefe,
Which well I know proceedes of ardent loue.
But Lubeck now regardes not Mariana:
Euen as my life, so loue I Mariana.
Why do you poste mee to another then?
He is my friend, and I do loue the man.
Then will Duke VVilliam robb me of my Loue?
No as his life Mariana he doth loue.
Speake for yourselfe my Lord let him alone.
So do I Madam, for he and I am one.
Then louing you I do content you both.
In louing him you shall content vs both.
Me, for I craue that fauour at your handes:
He for hopes that comfort at your hands.
Leaue of my Lord, here comes the Ladie Blaunch.
Enter Blaunch to them.
Hard hap to breake vs of our talke so soone,
Sweet Mariana doe remember me.
Exit Lubeck,
Thy Mariana cannot chuse but remember thee.
Mariana well met, you are verie forward in your Loue?
Madam be it in secret spoken to your selfe,
If you wil but follow the complot I haue inuented
you will not think me so forward
As your selfe shall proue fortunate.
As how?
Madam as thus: It is not vnknowen to you
That Sir Robert of Windsor,
A man that you do not little esteeme,
Hath long importuned me of Loue:
But rather then I will be found false
Or vniust to the Marques Lubeck,
I will as did the constant ladie Penelope
Vndertake to effect some great taske.
What of all this?
The next tyme that Sir Robert shall come
In his woonted sort to solicit me with Loue,
I will seeme to agree and like of any thing
That the Knight shal demaund so far foorth
As it be no impeachment to my chastitie:
And to conclude, poynt some place for to meete the man,
[Page]For my conueiance from the Denmarke Court:
Which determined vpon, he will appoynt some certaine time
For our departure: whereof you hauing intelligence,
You may soone set downe a plot to were the English Crowne.
And than?
What then?
If Sir Robert proue a King and you his Queene
How than?
Were I assured of the one, as I am perswaded
Of the other, there were some possibilitie in it.
But here comes the man.
Madam begon and you shall see
I will worke to your desire and my content.
Exit Blanch.
Con. Ladie this is well and happelie met,
Fortune hetherto hath beene my foe,
And though I haue oft sought to speake with you,
Yet still I haue beene crost with sinister happs.
I cannot Madame tell a louing tale
Or court my Maistres with fabulous discoursies,
That am a souldier sworne to followe armes:
But this I bluntly let you vnderstand,
I honor you with such religious Zeale
As may become an honorable minde.
Nor may I make my loue the seege of Troye
That am a straunger in this Countrie.
First what I am, I know you are resolued,
For that my friend hath let you that to vnderstand,
The Marques Lubeck to whome I am so bound,
That whilest I liue I count me onely his.
Surely you are beholding to the Marques,
For he hath beene an earnest spokes-man in your cause.
And yealdes my Ladie then at his request.
To grace Duke VVilliam with her gratious loue?
My Lord I am a prisoner, and hard it were
To get me from the Courte.
An easie matter to get you from the Court,
[Page]If case that you will thereto giue consent.
Put case I should, how would you vse me than?
Not otherwise but well and honorably.
I haue at Sea a shipp that doth attend,
Which shall foorthwith conducte vs into England
Where when we are, I straight will marrie thee.
We may not stay deliberating long
Least that suspition, enuious of our weale
Set in a foote to hinder our pretence.
But this I think were most conuenient
To maske my face the better to scape vnknowen.
A good deuise: till then, Farwell faire loue.
But this I must intreat your grace,
You would not seeke by lust vnlawfully
To wrong my chast determinations.
I hold that man most shameles in his sinne
That seekes to wrong an honest Ladies name
Whome he thinkes worthie of his mariage bed.
In hope your othe is true,
I leaue your grace till the appoynted tyme.
Exit Mariana.
O happie William, blessed in thy loue:
Most fortunate in Marianaes loue,
Well Lubeck well, this courtesie of thine
I will requite if God permit me life.
Enter Valingford and Mountney at two sundrie dores, looking angerly each on other with Rapiers drauen.
Valingford, so hardlie I disgest an iniurie
Thou hast profered me, as were not that I detest to doe what stands
Not with the honor of my name,
Thy death should paie thy ransome of thy fault.
And Mountney, had not my reuenging wrath
Incenst with more than ordinarie loue
beene such for to depriue thee of thy life,
Thou hadst not liude to braue me as thou doest wretch as thou arte,
wherein hath Valingford offended thee?
[Page]That honourable bond which late we did confirme
In presence of the Gods,
When with the Conqueror we arriued here
For my part hath beene kept inuiolably
Till now too much abused by thy villanie,
I am inforced to cancell all those bands,
By hating him which I so well did loue.
Subtil thou art, and cunning in thy frawd,
That giuing me occasion of offence,
Thou pickst a quarrell to excuse thy shame.
Why Valingford, was it not enough for thee
To be aryuall twixt me and my loue,
But counsell her to my no small disgrace,
That when I came to talke with her of loue,
Shee should seeme deafe, as fayning not to heare.
But hath shee Mountney vsed thee as thou sayest?
Thou knowest too well shee hath:
Wherein thou couldest not do me greater iniurie.
Then I perceiue we are deluded both.
For when I offered many gifts of Gold and Iewels
To entreat for loue, shee hath refused them with a coy disdaine,
Alledging that shee could not see the Sunne.
The same coniectured I to be thy drift,
That fayning so shee might be ridd of mee.
The like did I by thee. But are not these naturall impe­diments?
In my coniecture merely counterfeit:
Therefore lets ioyne hands in frindship once againe,
Since that the iarre grewe only by coniecture.
With all my heart: Yet lets trye the truth hereof.
With right good will. We wil straight vnto her father,
And there to learne whither it be so or no.
Enter VVilliam and Blanch disguised, with a maske ouer her face.
Come on my loue, the comfort of my life:
Disguised thus we may remaine vnknowen.
[Page]And get we once to Seas, I force not then,
We quickly shall attaine the English shore.
But this I vrge you with your former oath.
You shall not seeke to violate mine honour,
Vntill our marriage rights be all performed.
Mariana, here I sweare to thee by heauen,
And by the honour that I beare to Armes,
Neuer to seeke or craue at hands of thee
The spoyle of honourable chastitie
Vntill we do attaine the English coast,
Where thou shalt be my right espoused Queene.
In hope your oath proceedeth from your heart,
Lets leaue the Court, and betake vs to his power
That gouernes all things to his mightie will,
And will reward the iust with endlesse ioye,
And plague the bad with most extreame annoy.
Lady, as little tarriance as wee may,
Lest some misfortune happen by the way.
Exit Blanch & William.
Enter the Miller, his man Trotter, & Manuile.
I tell you sir, it is no little greefe to mee,
You should so hardly conseit of my daughter,
Whose honest report, though I saie it,
Was neuer blotted with any title of defamation.
Father Miller, the repaire of those gentlemen to your house,
Hath giuen me great occasion to mislike.
As for those gentlemen, I neuer saw in them
Any euill intreatie. But should they haue profered it?
Her chaste minde hath proofe enough to preuent it.
Those gentlemen are as honest as euer I sawe:
For yfaith one of them gaue me sixe pence
To fetch a quart of Seck. See maister here they come.
Enter Mountney and Valingford.
Trotter, call Em, now they are here together,
Ile haue this matter throughly debated.
Exit Trotter.
Father, well met. We are come to conferre with you.
Nay? with his daughter rather.
Thus it is father, we are come to craue your frindship in a matter.
Gentlemen as you are straungers to me,
Yet by the waie of courtesie you shall demaund
Any reasonable thing at my hands.
What is the matter so forward?
They came to craue his good will.
It is giuen vs to vnderstand that your daughter
Is sodenly become both blind and deafe.
Marie God for bid, I haue sent for her, in deed
She hath kept her chamber this three daies.
It were no litle griefe to me if it should be so?
This is Gods iudgement for her trecherie.
Enter Trotter leading Em.
Gentlemen I feare your wordes are two true:
See where Trotter comes leading of her.
What ayles my Em, not blind I hope?
Mountney and Validgford both together?
And Manuile to whom I haue faithfullie vowed my loue?
Now Em suddenly helpe thy felfe.
This is no desembling Valingford.
If ir be? it is cunningly contriued of all sides.
Trotter lend me thy hand,
And as thou louest me keepe my counsell
And iustifie what so euer I saie, and Ile largely requite thee.
Ah, thats as much as to saie you would tell a monstrous,
Terrible, horrible, outragious lie,
And I shall sooth it, no berladie.
My present extremitie wills me, if thou loue me Trotrer?
That same word loue makes me to doe any thing.
Trotter wheres my father?
He thrusts Em vpon her father.
Why what a blynd dunce are you, can you not see?
He standeth right before you.
Is this my father?
Good father giue me leaue to sit
[Page]Where I may not be disturbed
Sith God hath visited me both of my sight and hearing.
Tell me sweete Em how came this blindnes.
Thy eyes are louely to looke on,
And yet haue they lost the benefit of their sight.
What a griefe is this to thy poore father?
Good father let me uot stand as an open gazing stock to euerie one,
But in a place a lone as fits a creature so miserable.
Trotter lead her in, the vtter ouerthrowe
Of poore Goddardes ioy and onely solace.
Exit the Miller, Trotter and Em.
Both blind and deafe, then is she no wife for me?
And glad am I so good occasion is hapned:
Now will I awaie to Manchester
And leaue these gentlemen to their blind fortune.
Exit Manuile
Since fortune hath thus spitefully crost our hope,
Let vs leaue this guest and harken after our King:
Who is at this daie landed at Lirpoole.
Exit Mountney.
Goe my Lord Ile follow you.
VVell, now Mountney is gone
Ile staie behind to solicit my loue,
For I imagine that I shall find this but a fained inuention
Thereby to haue vs leaue off our sutes.
Enter Marques Lubeck and the King of Denmark angerly with some attendants.
Zweno. K.
VVell Lubeck well, it is not possible
But you must be concenting to this acte?
Is this the man so highly you extold?
And playe a parte so hatefull with his friend?
Since first he came with thee into the court
What entertainement and what countenance
He hath receiued, none better knowes than thou.
In recompence whereof he quites me well,
To steale awaie faire Mariana my prisoner,
Whose raunsome being lately greed vpon,
I am deluded of by this escape.
[Page]Besides, I know not how to answere it
When shee shal be demaunded home to Swethia.
My gracious Lord, coniecture not I pray
Worser of Lubeck than he doth deserue.
Your highnes knowes Mariana was my loue,
Sole paragon and mistres of my thoughts.
Is it likely I should know of her departure,
Wherein there is no man iniured more than I.
That carries reason Marques I confesse.
Call foorth my daughter. Yet I am perswaded
That shee poore soule suspected not her going:
For as I heare: shee likewise loued the man,
Which he to blame did not at all regard.
My Lord here is the Princesse Mariana:
It is your daughter is conueyed away.
What, my daughter gone?
Now Marques your villanie breakes foorth.
This match is of your making, gentle sir:
And you shall dearly know the price thereof.
Knew I thereof, or that there was intent
In Robert thus to steale your highnes daughter:
Let heauens in Iustice presently confound me.
Not all the protestations thou canst vse,
Shall saue thy life. Away with him to prison.
And minion, otherwise it cannot be,
But you are an agent in this trecherie.
I will reuenge it throughly on you both.
Away with her to prison. Heres stuffe in deede?
My daughter stolen away?
It booteth not thus to disturbe my selfe,
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 againe,
Or I shall fetch her vnto Windsors coste,
[Page]Yea, and VVilliams too if he denie her mee?.
Exit Zweno.
Enter VVilliam taken with souldiers.
Could any crosse, could any plague be worse?
Could heauen or hell? Did both conspire in one
To afflict my soule, inuent a greater scourge
Then presently I am tormented with?
Ah Mariana cause of my lament:
Ioy of my hart, and comfort of my life.
For thee I breath my sorrowes in the ayre,
And tyre my selfe: for silently I sigh,
My sorrowes afflictes me soule with equall passion.
Go to sirha, put vp, it is to small purpose.
Hence villaines hence, dare you lay your hands
Vpon your Soueraigne?
Well sir, we will deale for that.
But here comes one will remedie all this.
Enter Demarch.
My Lord, watching this night in the campe,
We tooke this man, and know not what he is:
And in his companie was a gallant dame,
A woman faire in outward shewe shee seemde,
But that her face was maskte we could not see
The grace and fauour of her countenance.
Tell me good fellow of whence and what thou art.
Why do you not answere my Lord?
He takes scorne to answere.
And takest thou scorne to aunswer my demaund?
Thy proud behauiour verie well deserues
This misdemeanour at the worst be construed.
Why doest thou neither know, nor hast thou heard?
That in the absence of the Saxon Duke,
Demarch is his especiall Substitute
To punish those that shall offend the lawes.
In knowing this, I know thou art a traytor.
A rebell, and mutenous conspirator.
Why Demarch, knowest thou who I am?
Pardon my dread Lord the error of my sence,
And misdemeaner to your princely excellencie.
Why Demarch, what is the cause my subiects are in armes?
Free are my thoughts my dread and gratious Lord
From treason to your state and common weale,
Only reuengement of a priuate grudge
By Lord Dirot lately profered me,
That standes not with the honor of my name,
Is cause I haue assembled for my guard
Some men in armes that may withstand his force,
Whose setled malice aymeth at my life.
Where is Lord Dirot?
In armes my gratious Lord
Not past two miles from hence,
As credibly I am assertained.
Well, come let vs goe,
I feare I shall find traytors of you both.
Enter the Citizen of Manchester and his daughter Elner and Manuile.
In deed sir it would do verie well
If you could intreat your father to come hither:
But if you thinke it be too farr,
I care not much to take horse and ride to Manchester,
I am sure my daughter is content with either:
How saiest thou Elner art thou not?
As you shall think best I must be contented.
Well Elner farwell, onely thus much,
I pray make all things in a readines,
Either to serue here or to carry thither with vs.
As for that sir take you no care,
And so I betake you to your iournie.
Enter Valingford.
But soft what gentleman is this?
God speed sir, might a man craue a word or two with you
God forbid els sir, I praye you speake your pleasure.
The gentleman that parted from you, was he not
[Page]Of Manchester, his father lyuing there of good account.
Yes mary is he sir: why doe you aske?
Belike you haue had some acquaintance with him.
I haue beene acquainted in times past,
But through his double dealing,
I am growen werie of his companie.
For be it spoken to you:
He hath beene acquainted with a poore millers daughter,
And diuers tymes hath promist her mariage.
But what with his delayes and floutes,
He hath brought her into such a taking,
That I feare me it will cost her her life.
To be playne with you sir:
His father and I haue beene of old acquaintance,
And a motion was made,
Beteewene my daughter and his sonne,
Which is now throughly agreed vpon
Saue onely the place appoynted for the mariage,
Whether it shall be kept here or at Manchester,
And for no other occasion he is now ridden.
What hath he done to you?
That you should speake so ill of the man.
Oh gentlewoman I crie you mercie,
He is your husband that shalbe.
If I knew this to be true?
He should not be my husband were he neuer so good:
And therefore, good father,
I would desire you to take the paines
To beare this gentleman companie to Manchester
to know whether this be true or no.
Now trust me gentleman he deales with me verie hardly,
Knowing how well I ment to him.
But I care not much to ride to Manchester
To know whether his fathers will be,
He should deale with me so badlie.
Will it please you sir to goe in, we will presently take horse & awaie.
If it please you to go in
Ile followe you presently.
Exit Elner and her father.
Now shall I be reuenged on Manuile,
And by this meanes get Em to my wife.
And therefore I will strayght to her fathers
And informe them both of all that is hapned.
Enter William, the Ambassador of Denmarke, Demarch, and other attendants.
What newes with the Denmark Embassador?
Mary thus, the King of Denmark and my Soueraine
Doth send to know of thee what is the cause
That iniuriously against the law of armes,
Thou hast stolen awaie his onely daughter Blaunch,
The onely staie and comfort of his life.
Therefore by me he willeth thee to send his daughter Blaunch:
Or else foorthwith he will leuy such an hoste,
As soone shall fetch her in dispite of thee.
Embassador, this answer Iretorne thy King.
He willeth me to send his daughter Blaunch:
Saying I conuaid her from the Danish court,
That neuer yet did once as think thereof.
As for his menacing and daunting threats
I nill regard him nor his Danish power.
For if he come to fetch her foorth my Realme,
I will prouide him such abanquet here
That he shall haue small cause to giue me thanks.
Is this your answer then?
It is and so begone.
I goe but to your cost.
Exit AmBassador.
Demarch our subiects earst leuied in ciuill broyles,
Musterd foorthwith for to defend the Realme,
In hope whereof that we shall find you true,
We freely pardon this thy late offence.
Most humble thanks I render to your grace.
[Page] Enter the Millier and Valingsord.
Alas gentleman, why should you trouble your self so much
Considering the imperfections of my daughter
Which is able to with-drawe the loue of any man from her,
As alreadie it hath done in her first choyce.
Maister Manuile hath foraken her,
And at Chester shalbe maried to a mans daughter of no little wealth.
But if my daughter knew so much:
It would goe verie neere her heart I feare me.
Father miller: such is the entyre affection to your daughter,
As no misfortune whatsoeuer can alter.
My fellow Mountney thou seeste gaue quicly ouer,
But I by reason of my good meaning
Am not so soone to be changed
Although I am borne off with scornes and deniall.
Enter Em to them.
Trust me sir I know not what to saie,
My daughter is not to be compelled by me,
But here she comes herself: speake to her and spare not:
For I neuer was troubled with loue matters so much before.
Good Lord shall I neuer be rid of this importunate man?
Now must I dissemble blyndnes againe,
Once more for thy sake Manuile thus am I insorced,
Because I shall complete my full resolued mynde to thee.
Father where are you?
Here sweete Em, answer this gentleman
That would so fayne enioye thy loue.
Where are you sir? wil you neuer leaue
This idle and vaine pursuite of loue?
Is not England stord enought to content you?
But you must still trouble the poore
Contemptible mayd of Manchester.
None can content me but the fayre maide of Manchester.
I perceiue loue is vainly described,
That being blynd himselfe,
[Page]Would haue you likewise troubled with a blinde wife,
Hauing the benefite of your eyes,
But neither follow him so much in follie,
But loue one, in whome you may better delight.
Father Miller, thy daughter shall haue honor
By graunting mee her loue:
I am a Gentleman of king Williams Court,
And no meane man in king Williams fauour.
If you be a Lorde syr, as you saye:
You offer both yourselfe and mee great wrong:
Yours, as apparant in limitting your loue so vnorderly,
For which you rashly endure reprochement:
Mine, as open and euident,
When being shut from the vanities of this world,
you would haue me as an open gazing stock to all the world:
For lust, not loue leades you into this error:
But from the one I will keepe me as well as I can,
And yeeld the other to none but to my father,
As I am bound by duetie.
Why faire Em, Manuile hath forsaken thee,
And must at Chester be married, which,
If I speake otherwise than true,
Let thy father speake what credibly he hath heard.
But can it be Manuile will deale so vnkindly,
To reward my iustice with such monstrous vngentlenes.
Haue I dissembled for thy sake?
And doest thou now thus requite it?
In deede these many daies I haue not seene him,
Which hath made me marueile at his long absence.
But father, are you assured of the wordes he spake,
were concerning Manuile?
In sooth daughter, now it is foorth,
I must needes confirme it.
Maister Manuile hath forsaken thee,
And at Chester must be married
To a mans daughter of no little wealth.
[Page]His owne father procures it,
And therefore I dare credit it,
And do thou beleeue it,
For trust mee daughter it is so.
Then good father pardon the iniurie,
That I haue don to you onely causing your griefe,
By ouer-fond affecting a man so trothlesse.
And you likewise sir, I pray holde me excused,
As I hope this cause will allow sufficiently for mee:
My loue to Manuile, thinking he would requite it,
Hath made me double with my father and you,
And many more besides,
Which I will no longer hyde from you.
That inticing speeches should not beguile mee,
I haue made my selfe deafe to any but to him.
And lest any mans person should please mee more than his,
I haue dissembled the want of my sight:
Both which shaddowes of my irreuocable affections,
I haue not sparde to confirme before him,
My father, and all other amorous soliciters.
Wherewith not made acquainted, I perceiue
My true intent hath wrought mine owne sorrow.
And seeking by loue to be regarded,
Am cut of with contempt, and dispised.
Tell me sweet Em hast thou but fained all this while for his loue,
That hath so descourteously forsaken thee.
Credit me father I haue told you the troth,
Wherewith I desire you and Lord Valingford not to be displeased
For ought else I shall saie,
Let my present griefe hold me excused.
But may I liue to see that vngratfullman
Iustly rewarded for his trecherie?
Poore Em woulde think her selfe not a little happie,
Fauour my departing at this instant,
For my troubled thought desires to meditate alone in silence
Exit Em.
VVill not Em shew one chereful looke on Valingford?
Alas sir, blame her not, you see she hath good cause,
being so handled by this gentleman:
And so Ile leaue you, and go comfort my poore wench
As well as I may.
Exit the Miller.
Farewell good father.
Exit Valingford.
Enter Zweno king of Denmarke with Rosilio, and other attendants.
Rosilio, Is this the place whereas the Duke William should meete mee?
It is, and like your grace.
Goe captaine away, regard the charge I gaue:
See all our men be martialed for the fight.
Dispose the VVardes as lately was deuised.
And let the prisoners vnder seuerall gardes
Be kept apart vntill you heare from vs.
Let this suffise, you know my resolution.
If William Duke of Saxon be the man,
That by his answere sent vs, he would send
Not words but wounds: not parleis but alarmes,
Must be descider of this controuersie.
Rosilio, stay with mee, the rest begone.
Enter VVilliam, and Demarch with other attendants
All but Demarch go shroud you out of sight,
For I will goe parley with the Prince my selfe.
Should Zweno by this parley call you foorth,
Vpon intent iniuriously to deale:
This offereth too much oportunitie.
No no Demarch, that were abreach
Against the law of Armes: therefore begon,
And leaue vs here alone.
I see that Zweno is maister of his worde.
Zweno, VVilliam of Saxonie greeteth thee
[Page]Either well oryll, according to thy intent.
If well thou wish to him and Saxonie,
He bids thee frindly welcome as he can.
If yll thou wish to him and Saxanie,
He must withstand thy mallice as he may.
VVilliam, for other name and title giue I none
To him, who were he worthie of those honours
That Fortune and his predecessors left,
I ought by right and humaine courtesie
To grace his style with Duke of Saxonie.
But for I finde a base degenerate mynde,
I frame my speech according to the man,
And not the state that he vnworthie holdes.
Herein Zweno dost thou abase thy state,
To breake the peace which by our auncesters
Hath heretofore bene honourably kept.
And should that peace for euer haue been kept,
Had not thy selfe beene author of the breach:
Nor stands it with the honor of my state,
Or nature of a father to his childe,
That I should so be robbed of my daughter,
And not vnto the vtmost of my power
Reuenge so intollerable an iniurie.
Is this the colour of your quarrell Zweno?
I well perceiue the wisest men may erre.
And thinke you I conueyed away your daughter Blanch?
Art thou so impudent to denye thou didst?
VVhen that the proofe thereof is manifest?
VVhat proofe is there?
Thine owne confession is sufficient proofe.
Did I confesse I stole your daughter Blanch?
Thou didst confesse thou hadst a Ladie hence.
I haue and do.
VVhy that was Blanch my daughter.
Nay, that was Mariana,
who wrongfully thou detainest prisoner.
Shamelesse persisting in thy ill,
Thou doest mayntaine a manifest vntrothe,
As shee shall iustifie vnto thy teethe.
Rosilio fetch her and the Marques hether.
Exit Rosilio for Mariana.
It cannot be I should be so deceiued.
I heard this night among the souldiers,
That in their watch they tooke a pensiue Ladie:
Who at the appoyntment of the Lord Dirot is yet in keeping.
What she is I know not,
Onely thus much, I ouer-hard by chance.
And what of this.
It may be Blaunch the King of Denmarkes daughter.
It may be so: but on my lyfe it is not?
Yet Demarch, goe and fetch her strayght.
Enter Rosilio with the Marques.
Pleaseth your highnes, here is the Marques and Mariana.
See here, Duke VVilliam, your competitors
That were consenting to my daughters scape.
Let them resolut you of the trueth hereing,
And here I vowe and solemly protest,
That in thy presence they shall lose their heds:
Vnlesse I here where as my daughter is.
O Marques Lubeck how it grieueth me,
That for my sake thou shouldest indure these bondes.
Be iudge my soule that feeles the martirdome.
Duke VVilliam, you know it is for your cause,
It pleaseth thus the King to misconceiue of me,
And for his pleasure doth me iniurie.
Enter Demarch with the Ladie Blaunch.
May it please your hightnes,
Here is the Ladie you sent me for,
Awaie Demarch, what tellest thou me of Ladies?
[Page]I so detest the dealing of their sex,
As that I count a louers state to be the base
And vildest slauerie in the world.
What humors are these: heres a straunge alteration.
See Duke William, is this Blaunch or no?
You know her, if you see her I am sure.
Zweno I was deceiued, yea vtterly deceiued,
Yet this is shee: this same is Ladie Blaunch.
And for mine error, here I am content
To do whatsoeuer Zweno shall set downe.
Ah cruell Mariana thus to vse
The man which loued and honored thee with his heart.
When first I came into your highnes court,
And VVilliam often importing me of loue:
I did deuise to ease the griefe your daughter did sustain,
Shee should meete Sir William masked as I it were.
This put in proofe, did take so good effect,
As yet it seemes his grace is not resolued,
But it was I which he conueid awaie.
May this be true? It cannot be but true.
Was it Ladie Blaunch which I conueid awaie?
Vnconstant Mariana,
Thus to deale with him which ment to thee nought but faith.
Pardon deere father my follyes that are past,
Wherein I haue neglected me dutie
Which I in reuerence ought to shew your grace,
For led by loue I thus haue gone astray,
And now repent the errors I was in.
Stand vp deare daughter though thy fault desesues
For to be punisht in the extremest sort.
Yet loue that couers multitude of sinns
Makes loue in parents winke at childrens faults.
Sufficeth Blaunch thy father loues thee so,
Thy follies past he knowes but will not know.
And here Duke VVilliam take my daughter to thy wife.
For well I am assured she loues thee well.
A proper coniuntion: as who should saie,
Lately come out of the fyer,
I would goe thrust my selfe into the flame.
Let Maistres nice goe Saint it where she list,
And coyly quaint it with dissembling face.
I hold in scorne the fooleries that they vse,
I being free will neuer subiect my selfe
to any such as shee is vnderneth the Sunne.
Refusest thou to take my daughter to thy wife?
I tel thee Duke, this rash deniall
May bring more mischiefe on thee then thou canst avoide.
Conseit hath wrought such generall dislike
Through the false dealing of Mariana,
That vtterly I doe abhore their sex.
They are all disloyall, vnconstant, all vniust:
Who tryes as I haue tryed,
And findes as I haue founde,
Will saie thers no such creatures on the ground.
Vnconstant Knight, though some deserue no trust
Thers others faithfull, louing, loyall, & iust.
Enter to them Valingford with Em and the Miller, and Mountney, and Manuile, and Elner.
How now Lord Valingford what makes these women here?
Here be two women, may it please your grace,
that are contracted to one man,
And are in strife whether shall haue him to their husband.
Stand foorth women and saie,
To whether of you did he first giue his faith.
To me forsooth.
To me my gratious Lord.
Speak Manuile, to whether didst thou giue thy faith?
To saie the troth: this maide had first my loue.
Yea Manuile, but there was no witnesse by.
Thy conscience Manuile a hundred witnesses.
Shee hath stolne a conscience to serue her own turne.
But you are deceiued, yfaith he will none of you.
In deede, dred Lord, so deere I held her loue,
As in the same I put my whole delight.
But some impediments which at that instant hapned,
Made me forsake her quite,
For which I had her fathers franke consent.
What were the impediments?
Why shee could neither heare nor see.
Now shee doth both. Mayden, how were you cured:
Pardon my Lord, Ile tell your grace the troth,
Be it not imputed to mee as discredite.
I loued this Manuile so much, that still methought
When he was absent did present to mee
The forme and feature of that countenance
Which I did shrine an ydoll in mine heart.
And neuer could I see a man methought
That equald Manuile in my partiall eye.
Nor was there any loue betweene vs lost,
But that I held the same in high regard,
Vntill repaire of some vnto our house,
Of whome my Manuile grewe thus iealous:
As if he tooke exception I vouchsafed
To heare them speake, or saw them when they came:
On which I straight tooke order with my selfe
To voide the scrupule of his conscience,
By counterfaiting that I neither sawe nor heard,
Any wayes to rid my hands of them.
All this I did to keepe my Manuiles loue,
Which he vnkindly seekes for to rewarde.
And did my Em to keepe her faith with mee
Dissemble that shee neither heard nor sawe.
Pardon me sweet Em, for I am onely thine.
Lay off thy hands, disloyall as thou art,
Nor shalt thou haue possession of my loue,
That canst so finely shift thy matters off.
[Page] [...]ut case I had beene blinde and could not see,
As often times such visitations falles
That pleaseth God which all things doth dispose:
Shouldest thou forsake mee in regard of that?
I tell thee Manuile, hadst thou beene blinde,
Or deafe, or dumbe, or else what impediments
might befall to man, Em would haue loued and kept,
And honoured thee: yea, begde if wealth had faylde
For thy releefe.
Forgiue mee sweete Em.
I do forgiue thee with my heart,
And will forget thee too if case I can:
But neuer speake to mee, nor seeme to know mee.
Then farewell frost:
Well fare a wench that will.
Now, Elner I am thine owne my gyrle.
Mine Manuile? thou neuer shalt be myne.
I so detest thy villanie.
That whilest I liue I will abhor thy company.
Is it come to this? of late, I had choyce of twaine
On either side to haue me to her husband:
And now am vtterly reiected of them both.
My Lord this gentleman when time was
Stood some thing in our light,
And now I thinke it not a misse
To laugh at him that sometime scorned at vs.
Content my Lord, inuent the forme.
Then thus.
I see that women are not generall euils.
Blanch is faire: Methinkes I see in her,
A modest countenance, a heauenly blush.
Zweno, receiue a reconciled foe,
Not as thy friend, but as thy sonne in law,
If so that thou be thus content.
I ioy to see your grace so tractable.
Here take my daughter Blanch,
[Page]And after my desease the Denmark crowne.
Now sir, how stands the case with you?
I partly am perswaded as your grace is,
My lord, he is best at ease that medleth least.
Sir may a man be so bolde,
As to craue a word with you?
Yea, two or three: what are they?
I say, this maide will haue thee to her husband.
And I say this: and therof will I lay an hundred pound.
And I say this: whereon I will lay as much.
And I say neither: what say you to that?
If that be true: then are we both deceiued.
Why it is true, and you are both deceiued.
In mine eyes, this is the proprest wench.
Might I aduise thee, take her vnto thy wife.
It seemes to me, shee hath refused him.
Why theres the spite.
If one refuse him, yet may he haue the other.
He will aske but her good will, and all her friends.
Might I aduise thee, let them both alone.
Yea, thats the course, and thereon wil I stand.
Such idle loue hencefoorth I will detest.
The Foxe will eat no grapes, and why?
I know full well, because they hang too hye.
And may it be a Millers daughter by her birth?
I cannot thinke but shee is better borne.
Sir Thomas Goddard hight this reuerent man,
Famed for his vertues and his good successe:
Whose fame hath beene renowmed through the world.
Sir Thomas Goddard welcome to thy Prince,
And faire Em, frolike with thy good father.
As glad am I to finde Sir Thomas Goddard
As good Sir Edmund Treford on the plaines:
He like a sheepheard, and thou our countrie Miller.
And longer let not Goddard liue a day,
Then he in honour loues his soueraigne.
But say Sir Thomas, shall I giue thy daughter?
Goddard and all that he hath,
Doth rest at the pleasure of your Maiestie.
And what sayes Em to louely Valingford?
It seemde he loued you well,
That for your sake durst leaue his King.
Em restes at the pleasure of your highnes:
And would I were a wife for his desert.
Then here Lord Valingford,
Receiue faire Em.
Here take her, make her thy espoused wife.
Then goe we in, that preparation may be made,
to see these nuptials solemly performed.
Exeunt all. Sound drummes and Trumpets.

This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal. The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission.