Puts it in at the foot (the lower member). Will you go as you are now, miller?

Phil. How has this satisfied you, don Bellides?

[ous!

Bel. Nothing, my lord; my cause is seriI claim a daughter from that loving thief there.

Ant. I would I had her for you, sir!
Bel. Ha, ha, Julio!

Julio. How said you, Antonio! Wish you,
you had his daughter?
[body
Ant. With my soul I wish her; and my
Shall perish, but I will enjoy my soul's wish.
I would have slain my friend for his deceit,
But I do find his own deceit hath paid him.
Julio. Will you vex my soul forth? no

other choice

[girl! But where my hate is rooted? Come hither, Whose pretty naid art thou?

Ism. The child of a poor man, sir.
Julio. The better for it. With my sove-

reign's leave,

I will wed thee to this man, will he, nill he. Phil. Pardon me, sir, I'll be no loveenforcer;

I use no power of mine unto those ends.

[beauties!

Julio. Wilt thou have him? Ism. Not unless he love me. Ant. I do love thee: Farewell, all other I settle here. You are Ismenia.

[Aside to Ismenia.

Ism. The same I was; better, nor worse,
Antonio.

Ant. I shall have your consent here, I am
sure, sir.

Bel. With all my heart, sir; nay, if you accept it,

I'll do this kindness to mine enemy,

And give her as a father.

Ant. She'll thank you as a daughter;

Will you not, Ismenia?

Bel. How! Ismenia?

Ism. Your daughter, sir.
Bel. Is it possible?—

Away, you feeble-witted things! You thought
You'd caught the old ones! You wade, you

wade

[here!

In shallow fords; we can swim, we: Look We made the match; we are all friends, good friends: fool.

Thin, thin! Why, the fool knew all this, this Bust. Keep that to yourself, sir; what I knew I knew:

This sack is a witness. Miller, this is not for your thumbing. [day Here's gold lace; you may see her in her holiCloaths if you will; I was her wardrobe-man.

Enter Martino, Aminta, Constable and Officers.

Ant. You beguil'd me well, sir.
Murt. Did you speak to me, sir?
Ant. It might seem to you, Martino;
Your conscience has quick cars.

Mart. My sight was

VOL. II.

If any interruption meet thee more, it shall Be punish'd sharply.

Gil. Good my liege, (I dare not) Ask you the question why that old man weeps.

Phil. Who? count Julio? I observ'd it not. You hear the question, sir; will you give the cause? [sage,

Julio. Oh, my lord, it hardly will get pas(It is a sorrow of that greatness grown) 'Less it dissolve in tears, and come by parcels. Gil. I'll help you, sir, in the delivery, And bring you forth a joy: You lost a daugh

ter.

it to you.

This did enwrap your child, whom ever since
I have call'd mine, when nurse Amaranta,
In a remove from Mora to Corduba,
Was seiz'd on by a fierce and hungry bear;
She was the ravin's prey, as Heav'n so would!
He with his booty fill'd, forsook the babe:
All this was in my sight; and so long I saw,
Until the cruel creature left my sight;
At which advantage I adventur'd me
To rescue the sweet lamb: I did it, sir ;
And ever since I have kept back your joy,
And made it mine. But age hath wearied me,
And bids me back restore unto the owner
What I unjustly kept these fourteen years.
Julio. Oh, thou hast ta'en so many years

from me,

[me.

And made me young as was her birth-day to Oh, good my liege, give my joys a pardon ! I must go pour a blessing on my child, Which here would be too rude and trouble[Exit.

some.

Phil. Franio, you knew this before? Bust. Oh, oh! Item for you, miller! Fra. I did, my licge; I must confess I did: And I confess, I ne'er would have confess'd, Í Had not that woman's tongue begun to me. We poor ones love, and would have comforts, sir,

Bust. It may stretch Further yet; I beseech you, my liege, let This woman be a little further examin'd; Let the wards of her conscience be search'd 44: I would know how she came by me; I am A lust child, if I be theirs: Though I have Been brought up in a mill, yet I had ever A mind, methought, to be a greater man. Phil She will resolve you sure.

Gil. Ay, ay,

Boy; thou art mine own flesh and blood, born Of mine own body.

Bust. 'Tis very unlikely

That such a body should bear me ! There's no
Trust in these millers. Woman, tell the truth!
My father shall forgive thee, whatsoever
Ile was, were he knight, squire, or captain;
He should not be.
Liess

Gil. Thou art mine own child, boy.
Bust. And was the miller my father?
Gil Wouldst thou make

Thy mother a whore, knave?

Bust. Ay, if she make me

A bastard. The rack must make her confess, my lord;

I shall never come to know who I am else. have a worshipful mind in me sure; ine I do scorn poor folks.

[thinks

[sir;

It was a miller and a lord

As well as great. This is no strange fault, There's many men keep other men's children, As tho' they were their own.

That had a scabbard and a sword, He put it up in the country word, The miller and his daughter.

Sympson.

me, that with spoil

And hazardous exploits, full sixteen years
Have led (as hand-maids) Fortune, Victory,
Whom the Maltezi call my servitors?
Tempests I have subdued, and fought them
calm,

Out-lighten'd light'ning in my chivalry,
Rid (tame as Patience) billows that kick'd
Heav'n,

Whistled enraged Boreas 'till his gusts
Were grown so gentle, that he seem'd to sigh,
Because he could not shew the air my keel;
And yet I cannot conquer her bright eyes,
Which, tho' they blaze, both comfort and
invite ;
[ear,
Neither by force, nor fraud, pass thro' her
Whose guard is only blushing Innocence,
To take the least possession of her heart.
Did I attempt her with a thread-bare name,

Un-napt with meritorious actions,

She might with colour disallow my suit: But, by the honour of this Christian cross, (In blood of infidels so often dyed, Which mine own soul and sword hath fixed here,

And neither favour, nor birth's privilege) Oriana shall confess, (altho' she be Valetta's sister, our Grand-master here) The wages of scorn'd love is baneful hate, And, if I rule not her, I'll rule her fate.

Enter Rocca.

Rocca, my trusty servant, welcome!
Rocca. Sir,

I wish my news deserv'd it! Hapless I,
That, being lov'd and trusted, fail to bring
The loving answer that you do expect.

Mountf. Why speak'st thou from me? thy pleas'd eyes send forth

Beams brighter than the star that ushers day; Thy smiles restore sick expectation. [mine. Rocca. I bring you, sir, her smiles, not