The English Court.

[Enter Manvile alone, disguised.]


MANVILE.
Ah, Em! the subject of my restless thoughts,
The Anvil whereupon my heart doth be
Framing thy state to thy desert--
Full ill this life becomes thy heavenly look,
Wherein sweet love and vertue sits enthroned.
Bad world, where riches is esteemd above them both,
In whose base eyes nought else is bountifull!
A Millers daughter, says the multitude,
Should not be loved of a Gentleman.
But let them breath their souls into the air,
Yet will I still affect thee as my self,
So thou be constant in thy plighted vow.
But here comes one--I will listen to his talk.

[Manvile stays, hiding himself.]

[Enter Valingford at another door, disguised.]

VALINGFORD.
Go, William Conqueror, and seek thy love
Seek thou a minion in a foreign land,
Whilest I draw back and court my love at home.
The millers daughter of fair Manchester
Hath bound my feet to this delightsome soil,