TROTTER. Iwis you will when I cannot. Why, look, you have a Mill-- Why, whats your Mill without me? Or rather, Mistress, what were I without you?
[Here he taketh Em about the neck.]
EM. Nay, Trotter, if you fall achyding, I will give you over.
TROTTER. I chide you, dame, to amend you. You are too fine to be a Millers daughter; for if you should but stoop to take up the tole dish, you will have the cramp in your finger at least ten weeks after.
MILLER. Ah, well said, Trotter; teach her to play the good huswife, and thou shalt have her to thy wife, if thou canst get her good will.
TROTTER. Ah, words wherein I see Matrimony come loaden with kisses to salute me! Now let me alone to pick the Mill, to fill the hopper, to take the tole, to mend the sails, yea, and to make the mill to go with the very force of my love.
[Here they must call for their gryst within.]
TROTTER. I come, I come; yfaith, now you shall have your gryst, or else Trotter will trot and amble himself to death.
[They call him again. Exit.]
The Danish Court.
[Enter king of Denmark, with some attendants, Blanch his daughter, Mariana, Marques Lubeck, William disguised.]
KING OF DENMARK. Lord Marques Lubecke, welcome home. Welcome, brave Knight, unto the Denmark King, For Williams sake, the noble Norman Duke, So famous for his fortunes and success, That graceth him with name of Conqueror: Right double welcome must thou be to us.
ROBERT WINDSOR. 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 OF DENMARK. But say, Sir Knight, what may I call your name?
ROBERT WINDSOR. Robert Windsor, and like your Majesty.
KING OF DENMARK. I tell thee, Robert, I so admire the man As that I count it heinous guilt in him That honors not Duke William with his heart. Blanch, bid this stranger welcome, good my girl.
BLANCH. Sir, Shouyld I neglect your highness charge herein, It might be thought of base discourtesy. Welcome, Sir Knight, to Denmark, heartily.
ROBERT WINDSOR. Thanks gentle Lady. Lord Marques, who is she?
LUBECK. That same is Blanch, daughter to the King. The substance of the shadow that you saw.
ROBERT WINDSOR. May this be she, for whom I crost the Seas? I am ashamed to think I was so fond. In whom there's nothing that contents my mind: Ill head, worse featured, uncomely, nothing courtly; Swart and ill favoured, a Colliers sanguine skin. I never saw a harder favoured slut. Love her? for what? I can no whit abide her.
KIND OF DENMARK. Mariana, I have this day received letters From Swethia, that lets me understand Your ransom is collecting there with speed, And shortly shalbe hither sent to us.
MARIANA. Not that I find occasion of mislike My entertainment in your graces court, But that I long to see my native home--
KING OF DENMARK. And reason have you, Madam, for the same. Lord Marques, I commit unto your charge The entertainment of Sir Robert here; Let him remain with you within the Court, In solace and disport to spend the time.
ROBERT WINDSOR. I thank your highness, whose bounden I remain.
[Exit King of Denmark. Blanch speaketh this secretly at one end of the stage.]
Unhappy Blanch, what strange effects are these That works within my thoughts confusedly? That still, me thinks, affection draws me on, To take, to like, nay more, to love this Knight?
ROBERT WINDSOR. A modest countenance; no heavy sullen look; Not very fair, but richly deckt with favour; A sweet face, an exceeding dainty hand; 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.