Ranger.God be here, now Cryst kepe thys company!Mery-reporte.In fayth, ye be welcome, evyn very skantely!Syr, for your comynge what is the mater?Ranger.I wolde fayne speke with the god Jupyter.Mery-reporte.That wyll not be, but ye may do thys—405Tell me your mynde. I am an offycer of hys.Ranger.Be ye so? Mary, I crye you marcy.Your maystership may say I am homely.But syns your mynde is to have reportydThe cause wherfore I am now resortyd,410Pleasyth your maystership it is so.I come for my-selfe and suche other mo,Rangers and kepers of certayne places,As forestes, parkes, purlews and chasys[145]Where we be chargyd with all maner game.415Smale in our profyte and great is our blame.Alas! For our wages, what be we the nere?What is forty shyllynges, or fyve marke, a yere?B iiibMany tymes and oft, where we be flyttynge,We spende forty pens a pece at a syttinge.420Now for our vauntage, whyche chefely is wyndefale.That is ryght nought, there bloweth no wynde at all,Whyche is the thynge wherin we fynde most grefe,And cause for my commynge to sew for relefe,That the god, of pyty, al thys thynge knowynge,425May sende us good rage of blustryng and blowynge,And, yf I can not get god to do some good,I wolde hyer the devyll to runne thorow the wood,The rootes to turne up, the toppys to brynge under.A mischyefe upon them, and a wylde thunder!430Mery-reporte.Very well sayd, I set by your charyteAs mych, in a maner, as by your honeste.I shall set you somwhat in ease anone.Ye shall putte on your cappe, when I am gone.For, I se, ye care not who wyn or lese,435So ye maye fynde meanys to wyn your fees.Ranger.Syr, as in that, ye speke as it please ye.But let me speke with the god, yf it maye be.I pray you, lette me passe ye.Mery-reporte.Why, nay, syr! By the masse, ye—440Ranger.Then wyll I leve you evyn as I founde ye.Mery-reporte.Go when ye wyll. No man here hath bounde ye.
Ranger.God be here, now Cryst kepe thys company!
Ranger.God be here, now Cryst kepe thys company!
Mery-reporte.In fayth, ye be welcome, evyn very skantely!Syr, for your comynge what is the mater?
Mery-reporte.In fayth, ye be welcome, evyn very skantely!
Syr, for your comynge what is the mater?
Ranger.I wolde fayne speke with the god Jupyter.
Ranger.I wolde fayne speke with the god Jupyter.
Mery-reporte.That wyll not be, but ye may do thys—405Tell me your mynde. I am an offycer of hys.
Mery-reporte.That wyll not be, but ye may do thys—405
Tell me your mynde. I am an offycer of hys.
Ranger.Be ye so? Mary, I crye you marcy.Your maystership may say I am homely.But syns your mynde is to have reportydThe cause wherfore I am now resortyd,410Pleasyth your maystership it is so.I come for my-selfe and suche other mo,Rangers and kepers of certayne places,As forestes, parkes, purlews and chasys[145]Where we be chargyd with all maner game.415Smale in our profyte and great is our blame.Alas! For our wages, what be we the nere?What is forty shyllynges, or fyve marke, a yere?B iiibMany tymes and oft, where we be flyttynge,We spende forty pens a pece at a syttinge.420Now for our vauntage, whyche chefely is wyndefale.That is ryght nought, there bloweth no wynde at all,Whyche is the thynge wherin we fynde most grefe,And cause for my commynge to sew for relefe,That the god, of pyty, al thys thynge knowynge,425May sende us good rage of blustryng and blowynge,And, yf I can not get god to do some good,I wolde hyer the devyll to runne thorow the wood,The rootes to turne up, the toppys to brynge under.A mischyefe upon them, and a wylde thunder!430
Ranger.Be ye so? Mary, I crye you marcy.
Your maystership may say I am homely.
But syns your mynde is to have reportyd
The cause wherfore I am now resortyd,410
Pleasyth your maystership it is so.
I come for my-selfe and suche other mo,
Rangers and kepers of certayne places,
As forestes, parkes, purlews and chasys[145]
Where we be chargyd with all maner game.415
Smale in our profyte and great is our blame.
Alas! For our wages, what be we the nere?
What is forty shyllynges, or fyve marke, a yere?B iiib
Many tymes and oft, where we be flyttynge,
We spende forty pens a pece at a syttinge.420
Now for our vauntage, whyche chefely is wyndefale.
That is ryght nought, there bloweth no wynde at all,
Whyche is the thynge wherin we fynde most grefe,
And cause for my commynge to sew for relefe,
That the god, of pyty, al thys thynge knowynge,425
May sende us good rage of blustryng and blowynge,
And, yf I can not get god to do some good,
I wolde hyer the devyll to runne thorow the wood,
The rootes to turne up, the toppys to brynge under.
A mischyefe upon them, and a wylde thunder!430
Mery-reporte.Very well sayd, I set by your charyteAs mych, in a maner, as by your honeste.I shall set you somwhat in ease anone.Ye shall putte on your cappe, when I am gone.For, I se, ye care not who wyn or lese,435So ye maye fynde meanys to wyn your fees.
Mery-reporte.Very well sayd, I set by your charyte
As mych, in a maner, as by your honeste.
I shall set you somwhat in ease anone.
Ye shall putte on your cappe, when I am gone.
For, I se, ye care not who wyn or lese,435
So ye maye fynde meanys to wyn your fees.
Ranger.Syr, as in that, ye speke as it please ye.But let me speke with the god, yf it maye be.I pray you, lette me passe ye.
Ranger.Syr, as in that, ye speke as it please ye.
But let me speke with the god, yf it maye be.
I pray you, lette me passe ye.
Mery-reporte.Why, nay, syr! By the masse, ye—440
Mery-reporte.Why, nay, syr! By the masse, ye—440
Ranger.Then wyll I leve you evyn as I founde ye.
Ranger.Then wyll I leve you evyn as I founde ye.
Mery-reporte.Go when ye wyll. No man here hath bounde ye.
Mery-reporte.Go when ye wyll. No man here hath bounde ye.
Here entreth theWater Myllerand theRangergoth out.
Water Myller.What the devyll shold skyl,[146]though all the world were dum,Syns in all our spekynge we never be harde?We crye out for rayne, the devyll sped drop wyll cum.445We water myllers be nothynge in regarde.No water have we to grynde at any stynt,The wynde is so stronge the rayne cannot fall,Whyche kepeth our myldams as drye as a flynt.We are undone, we grynde nothynge at all,450The greter is the pyte, as thynketh me.For what avayleth to eche man his corne,Tyll it be grounde by such men as we be?There is the loss, yf we be forborne.[147]For, touchynge our-selfes, we are but drudgys,455And very beggers save onely our tole,B ivWhiche is ryght smale and yet many grudgesFor gryste of a busshell to gyve a quarte bole.[148]Yet, were not reparacyons, we myght do wele.Our mylstons, our whele with her kogges, & our trindill[149]460Our floodgate, our mylpooll, our water whele,Our hopper,[150]our extre,[151]our yren spyndyll,In this and mych more so great is our charge,That we wolde not recke though no water ware,Save onely it toucheth eche man so large,465And ech for our neyghbour Cryste byddeth us care.Wherfore my conscience hath prycked me hyther,In thys to sewe, accordynge to the cry,[152]For plente of raine to the god JupiterTo whose presence I wyll go evyn boldely.470Mery-reporte.Sir, I dowt nothynge your audacyte,But I feare me ye lacke capacyte,For, yf ye were wyse, ye myghte well espye,How rudely ye erre from rewls of courtesye.What! ye come in revelynge and reheytynge,[153]475Evyn as a knave might go to a beare-beytynge!Water Myller.All you bere recorde what favour I have!Herke, howe famylyerly he calleth me knave!Dowtles the gentylman is universall!But marke thys lesson, syr. You shulde never call480Your felow knave, nor your brother horeson;For nought can ye get by it, when ye have done.Mery-reporte.Thou arte nother brother nor felowe to me,For I am goddes servaunt, mayst thou not se?Wolde ye presume to speke with the great god?485Nay, dyscrecyon and you be to farre od![154]Byr lady, these knaves must be tyed shorter.[155]Syr, who let you in? Spake ye with the porter?Water Myller.Nay, by my trouth, nor wyth no nother man.Yet I saw you well, when I fyrst began.490How be it, so helpe me god and holydam,[156]I toke you but for a knave, as I am.But, mary, now, syns I knowe what ye be,I muste and wyll obey your authoryte.And yf I maye not speke wyth Jupiter495I beseche you be my solycyter.B ivbMery-reporte.As in that, I wyl be your well-wyller.I perceyve you be a water myller.And your hole desyre, as I take the mater,Is plente of rayne for encres of water.500The let wherof, ye affyrme determynately,Is onely the wynde, your mortall enemy.Water Myller.Trouth it is, for it blowyth so alofte,We never have rayne, or, at the most, not ofte.Wherfore, I praye you, put the god in mynde505Clerely for ever to banysh the wynde.
Water Myller.What the devyll shold skyl,[146]though all the world were dum,Syns in all our spekynge we never be harde?We crye out for rayne, the devyll sped drop wyll cum.445We water myllers be nothynge in regarde.No water have we to grynde at any stynt,The wynde is so stronge the rayne cannot fall,Whyche kepeth our myldams as drye as a flynt.We are undone, we grynde nothynge at all,450The greter is the pyte, as thynketh me.For what avayleth to eche man his corne,Tyll it be grounde by such men as we be?There is the loss, yf we be forborne.[147]For, touchynge our-selfes, we are but drudgys,455And very beggers save onely our tole,B ivWhiche is ryght smale and yet many grudgesFor gryste of a busshell to gyve a quarte bole.[148]Yet, were not reparacyons, we myght do wele.Our mylstons, our whele with her kogges, & our trindill[149]460Our floodgate, our mylpooll, our water whele,Our hopper,[150]our extre,[151]our yren spyndyll,In this and mych more so great is our charge,That we wolde not recke though no water ware,Save onely it toucheth eche man so large,465And ech for our neyghbour Cryste byddeth us care.Wherfore my conscience hath prycked me hyther,In thys to sewe, accordynge to the cry,[152]For plente of raine to the god JupiterTo whose presence I wyll go evyn boldely.470
Water Myller.What the devyll shold skyl,[146]though all the world were dum,
Syns in all our spekynge we never be harde?
We crye out for rayne, the devyll sped drop wyll cum.445
We water myllers be nothynge in regarde.
No water have we to grynde at any stynt,
The wynde is so stronge the rayne cannot fall,
Whyche kepeth our myldams as drye as a flynt.
We are undone, we grynde nothynge at all,450
The greter is the pyte, as thynketh me.
For what avayleth to eche man his corne,
Tyll it be grounde by such men as we be?
There is the loss, yf we be forborne.[147]
For, touchynge our-selfes, we are but drudgys,455
And very beggers save onely our tole,B iv
Whiche is ryght smale and yet many grudges
For gryste of a busshell to gyve a quarte bole.[148]
Yet, were not reparacyons, we myght do wele.
Our mylstons, our whele with her kogges, & our trindill[149]460
Our floodgate, our mylpooll, our water whele,
Our hopper,[150]our extre,[151]our yren spyndyll,
In this and mych more so great is our charge,
That we wolde not recke though no water ware,
Save onely it toucheth eche man so large,465
And ech for our neyghbour Cryste byddeth us care.
Wherfore my conscience hath prycked me hyther,
In thys to sewe, accordynge to the cry,[152]
For plente of raine to the god Jupiter
To whose presence I wyll go evyn boldely.470
Mery-reporte.Sir, I dowt nothynge your audacyte,But I feare me ye lacke capacyte,For, yf ye were wyse, ye myghte well espye,How rudely ye erre from rewls of courtesye.What! ye come in revelynge and reheytynge,[153]475Evyn as a knave might go to a beare-beytynge!
Mery-reporte.Sir, I dowt nothynge your audacyte,
But I feare me ye lacke capacyte,
For, yf ye were wyse, ye myghte well espye,
How rudely ye erre from rewls of courtesye.
What! ye come in revelynge and reheytynge,[153]475
Evyn as a knave might go to a beare-beytynge!
Water Myller.All you bere recorde what favour I have!Herke, howe famylyerly he calleth me knave!Dowtles the gentylman is universall!But marke thys lesson, syr. You shulde never call480Your felow knave, nor your brother horeson;For nought can ye get by it, when ye have done.
Water Myller.All you bere recorde what favour I have!
Herke, howe famylyerly he calleth me knave!
Dowtles the gentylman is universall!
But marke thys lesson, syr. You shulde never call480
Your felow knave, nor your brother horeson;
For nought can ye get by it, when ye have done.
Mery-reporte.Thou arte nother brother nor felowe to me,For I am goddes servaunt, mayst thou not se?Wolde ye presume to speke with the great god?485Nay, dyscrecyon and you be to farre od![154]Byr lady, these knaves must be tyed shorter.[155]Syr, who let you in? Spake ye with the porter?
Mery-reporte.Thou arte nother brother nor felowe to me,
For I am goddes servaunt, mayst thou not se?
Wolde ye presume to speke with the great god?485
Nay, dyscrecyon and you be to farre od![154]
Byr lady, these knaves must be tyed shorter.[155]
Syr, who let you in? Spake ye with the porter?
Water Myller.Nay, by my trouth, nor wyth no nother man.Yet I saw you well, when I fyrst began.490How be it, so helpe me god and holydam,[156]I toke you but for a knave, as I am.But, mary, now, syns I knowe what ye be,I muste and wyll obey your authoryte.And yf I maye not speke wyth Jupiter495I beseche you be my solycyter.B ivb
Water Myller.Nay, by my trouth, nor wyth no nother man.
Yet I saw you well, when I fyrst began.490
How be it, so helpe me god and holydam,[156]
I toke you but for a knave, as I am.
But, mary, now, syns I knowe what ye be,
I muste and wyll obey your authoryte.
And yf I maye not speke wyth Jupiter495
I beseche you be my solycyter.B ivb
Mery-reporte.As in that, I wyl be your well-wyller.I perceyve you be a water myller.And your hole desyre, as I take the mater,Is plente of rayne for encres of water.500The let wherof, ye affyrme determynately,Is onely the wynde, your mortall enemy.
Mery-reporte.As in that, I wyl be your well-wyller.
I perceyve you be a water myller.
And your hole desyre, as I take the mater,
Is plente of rayne for encres of water.500
The let wherof, ye affyrme determynately,
Is onely the wynde, your mortall enemy.
Water Myller.Trouth it is, for it blowyth so alofte,We never have rayne, or, at the most, not ofte.Wherfore, I praye you, put the god in mynde505Clerely for ever to banysh the wynde.
Water Myller.Trouth it is, for it blowyth so alofte,
We never have rayne, or, at the most, not ofte.
Wherfore, I praye you, put the god in mynde505
Clerely for ever to banysh the wynde.
Here entreth theWynde Myller.
Wynde Myller.How! Is all the wether gone or I come?For the passyon of god, helpe me to some.I am a wynd-miller, as many mo be.No wretch in wretchydnes so wrechyd as we!510The hole sorte[157]of my crafte be all mard at onys,The wynde is so weyke it sturryth not our stonys,Nor skantely can shatter[158]the shyttyn sayleThat hangeth shatterynge[159]at a womans tayle.The rayne never resteth, so longe be the showres,515From tyme of begynnyng tyl foure & twenty howres;And, ende whan it shall, at nyght or at none,An-other begynneth as soone as that is done.Such revell of rayne ye knowe well inough,Destroyeth the wynde, be it never so rough,520Wherby, syns our myllys be come to styll standynge,Now maye we wynd-myllers go evyn to hangynge.A myller! with a moryn[160]and a myschyefe!Who wolde be a myller? As good be a thefe!Yet in tyme past, when gryndynge was plente,525Who were so lyke goddys felows as we?As faste as god made corne, we myllers made meale.Whyche myght be best forborne[161]for comyn weale?But let that gere passe, for I feare our prydeIs cause of the care whyche god doth us provyde.530Wherfore I submyt me, entendynge to seWhat comforte may come by humylyte.And, now, at thys tyme, they sayd in the crye,The god is come downe to shape remedye.Mery-reporte.No doute, he is here, even in yonder trone.C 535But in your mater he trusteth me alone,Wherein, I do perceyve by your complaynte,Oppressyon of rayne doth make the wynde so faynte,That ye wynde-myllers be clene caste away.Wynde Myller.If Jupyter helpe not, yt is as ye say.540But, in few wordes to tell you my mynde rounde,[162]Uppon this condycyon I wolde be bounde,Day by day to say our ladyes' sauter,[163]That in this world were no drope of water,Nor never rayne, but wynde contynuall,545Then shold we wynde myllers be lordes over all.Mery-reporte.Come on and assay how you twayne can agre—A brother of yours, a myller as ye be!Water Myller.By meane of our craft we may be brothers,But whyles we lyve shal we never be lovers.550We be of one crafte, but not of one kynde,I lyve by water and he by the wynde.
Wynde Myller.How! Is all the wether gone or I come?For the passyon of god, helpe me to some.I am a wynd-miller, as many mo be.No wretch in wretchydnes so wrechyd as we!510The hole sorte[157]of my crafte be all mard at onys,The wynde is so weyke it sturryth not our stonys,Nor skantely can shatter[158]the shyttyn sayleThat hangeth shatterynge[159]at a womans tayle.The rayne never resteth, so longe be the showres,515From tyme of begynnyng tyl foure & twenty howres;And, ende whan it shall, at nyght or at none,An-other begynneth as soone as that is done.Such revell of rayne ye knowe well inough,Destroyeth the wynde, be it never so rough,520Wherby, syns our myllys be come to styll standynge,Now maye we wynd-myllers go evyn to hangynge.A myller! with a moryn[160]and a myschyefe!Who wolde be a myller? As good be a thefe!Yet in tyme past, when gryndynge was plente,525Who were so lyke goddys felows as we?As faste as god made corne, we myllers made meale.Whyche myght be best forborne[161]for comyn weale?But let that gere passe, for I feare our prydeIs cause of the care whyche god doth us provyde.530Wherfore I submyt me, entendynge to seWhat comforte may come by humylyte.And, now, at thys tyme, they sayd in the crye,The god is come downe to shape remedye.
Wynde Myller.How! Is all the wether gone or I come?
For the passyon of god, helpe me to some.
I am a wynd-miller, as many mo be.
No wretch in wretchydnes so wrechyd as we!510
The hole sorte[157]of my crafte be all mard at onys,
The wynde is so weyke it sturryth not our stonys,
Nor skantely can shatter[158]the shyttyn sayle
That hangeth shatterynge[159]at a womans tayle.
The rayne never resteth, so longe be the showres,515
From tyme of begynnyng tyl foure & twenty howres;
And, ende whan it shall, at nyght or at none,
An-other begynneth as soone as that is done.
Such revell of rayne ye knowe well inough,
Destroyeth the wynde, be it never so rough,520
Wherby, syns our myllys be come to styll standynge,
Now maye we wynd-myllers go evyn to hangynge.
A myller! with a moryn[160]and a myschyefe!
Who wolde be a myller? As good be a thefe!
Yet in tyme past, when gryndynge was plente,525
Who were so lyke goddys felows as we?
As faste as god made corne, we myllers made meale.
Whyche myght be best forborne[161]for comyn weale?
But let that gere passe, for I feare our pryde
Is cause of the care whyche god doth us provyde.530
Wherfore I submyt me, entendynge to se
What comforte may come by humylyte.
And, now, at thys tyme, they sayd in the crye,
The god is come downe to shape remedye.
Mery-reporte.No doute, he is here, even in yonder trone.C 535But in your mater he trusteth me alone,Wherein, I do perceyve by your complaynte,Oppressyon of rayne doth make the wynde so faynte,That ye wynde-myllers be clene caste away.
Mery-reporte.No doute, he is here, even in yonder trone.C 535
But in your mater he trusteth me alone,
Wherein, I do perceyve by your complaynte,
Oppressyon of rayne doth make the wynde so faynte,
That ye wynde-myllers be clene caste away.
Wynde Myller.If Jupyter helpe not, yt is as ye say.540But, in few wordes to tell you my mynde rounde,[162]Uppon this condycyon I wolde be bounde,Day by day to say our ladyes' sauter,[163]That in this world were no drope of water,Nor never rayne, but wynde contynuall,545Then shold we wynde myllers be lordes over all.
Wynde Myller.If Jupyter helpe not, yt is as ye say.540
But, in few wordes to tell you my mynde rounde,[162]
Uppon this condycyon I wolde be bounde,
Day by day to say our ladyes' sauter,[163]
That in this world were no drope of water,
Nor never rayne, but wynde contynuall,545
Then shold we wynde myllers be lordes over all.
Mery-reporte.Come on and assay how you twayne can agre—A brother of yours, a myller as ye be!
Mery-reporte.Come on and assay how you twayne can agre—
A brother of yours, a myller as ye be!
Water Myller.By meane of our craft we may be brothers,But whyles we lyve shal we never be lovers.550We be of one crafte, but not of one kynde,I lyve by water and he by the wynde.
Water Myller.By meane of our craft we may be brothers,
But whyles we lyve shal we never be lovers.550
We be of one crafte, but not of one kynde,
I lyve by water and he by the wynde.
HereMery-reportgoth out.
And, syr, as ye desyre wynde continuall,So wolde I have rayne ever-more to fall,Whyche two in experyence, ryght well ye se,555Ryght selde, or never, to-gether can be.For as longe as the wynde rewleth, yt is playne,Twenty to one ye get no drop of rayne;And when the element is to farre opprest,Downe commeth the rayne and setteth the wynde at reste.560By this, ye se, we can-not both obtayne.For ye must lacke wynde, or I must lacke rayne.Whertore I thynke good, before this audiens,Eche for our selfe to say, or we go hens;And whom is thought weykest, when we have fynysht,565Leve of his sewt and content to be banysht.Wynde Myller.In fayth, agreed! but then, by your lycens,Our mylles for a tyrne shall hange in suspens.Syns water and wynde is chyefely our sewt,Whyche best may be spared we woll fyrst dyspute.570Wherfore to the see my reason shall resorte,Where shyppes by meane of wynd try from port to porte,From lande to lande, in dystaunce many a myle,—Great is the passage and smale is the whyle.So great is the profile, as to me doth seme,C ib575That no man's wysdome the welth can exteme.[164]And syns the wynde is conveyer of allWho but the wynde shulde have thanke above all?Water Myller.Amytte[165]in this place a tree here to growe,And therat the wynde in great rage to blowe;580When it hath all blowen, thys is a clere case,The tre removeth no here-bred[166]from hys place.No more wolde the shyppys, blow the best it cowde.All though it wolde blow downe both mast & shrowde,Except the shyppe flete[167]uppon the water585The wynde can ryght nought do,—a playne matter.Yet maye ye on water, wythout any wynde,Row forth your vessell where men wyll have her synde.[168]Nothynge more rejoyceth the maryner,Then meane cooles[169]of wynde and plente of water.590For, commenly, the cause of every wrackeIs excesse of wynde, where water doth lacke.In rage of these stormys the perell is sucheThat better were no wynde then so farre to muche.Wynde Myller.Well, yf my reason in thys may not stande,595I wyll forsake the see and lepe to lande.In every chyrche where goddys servyce is,The organs beare brunt of halfe the quere,[170]i-wys.Whyche causeth the sounde, of water or wynde?More-over for wynde thys thynge I fynde600For the most parte all maner mynstrelsy,By wynde they delyver theyr sound chefly,Fyll me a bagpype of your water full,As swetely shall it sounde as it were stuffyd with wull.Water Myller.On my fayth I thynke the moone be at the full,605For frantyke fansyes be then most plentefull.Which are at the pryde of theyr sprynge in your[171]hed,So farre from our matter he[171]is now fled.As for the wynde in any instrument,It is no percell of our argument,610We spake of wynde that comyth naturallyAnd that is wynde forcyd artyfycyally,Whyche is not to purpose. But, yf it were,And water, in dede, ryght nought coulde do there,Yet I thynke organs no suche commodyte,[172]C ii 615Wherby the water shulde banyshed be.And for your bagpypes, I take them as nyfuls,[173]Your mater is all in fansyes and tryfuls.Wynde Myller.By god, but ye shall not tryfull me of[174]so!Yf these thynges serve not, I wyll reherse mo.620And now to mynde there is one olde proverbe come,One bushell of marche dust is worth a kynges raunsome,What is a hundreth thousande bushels worth than?Water Myller.Not one myte, for the thynge selfe, to no man.Wynde Myller.Why shall wynde every-where thus be objecte?625Nay, in the hye wayes he shall take effecte,Where as the rayne doth never good but hurt,For wynde maketh but dust and water maketh durt.Powder or syrop, syrs, whyche lycke ye best?Who lycketh not the tone maye lycke up the rest.630But, sure, who-so-ever hath assayed such syppes,Had lever have dusty eyes then durty lyppes.And it is sayd, syns afore we were borne,That drought doth never make derth of corne.And well it is knowen, to the most foole here,635How rayne hath pryced corne within this vii. yeare.[175]Water Myller.Syr, I pray the, spare me a lytyll season.And I shall brevely conclude the wyth reason.Put case on[176]somers daye wythout wynde to be,And ragyous wynde in wynter dayes two or thre,640Mych more shall dry that one calme daye in somer,Then shall those thre wyndy dayes in wynter.Whom shall we thanke for thys, when all is done?The thanke to wynde? Nay! Thanke chyefely the sone.And so for drought, yf corne therby encres,645The sone doth comfort and rype all dowtles,And oft the wynde so leyth the corne, god wot,That never after can it rype, but rot.Yf drought toke place, as ye say, yet maye ye se,Lytell helpeth the wynde in thys commodyte.650But, now, syr, I deny your pryncypyll.Yf drought ever were, it were impossybyllTo have ony grayne, for, or it can grow,Ye must plow your lande, harrow and sow,Whyche wyll not be, except ye maye have rayneC iib655To temper the grounde, and after agayneFor spryngynge and plumpyng all maner corneYet muste ye have water, or all is forlorne.Yf ye take water for no commodyteYet must ye take it for thynge of necessyte,660For washynge, for skowrynge, all fylth clensynge,Where water lacketh what bestely beynge!In brewyng, in bakynge, in dressynge of meate,Yf ye lacke water, what coulde ye drynke or eate?Wythout water coulde lyve neyther man nor best,665For water preservyth both moste and lest.For water coulde I say a thousande thynges mo,Savynge as now the tyme wyll not serve so;And as for that wynde that you do sew fore,Is good for your wynde-myll and for no more.670Syr, syth all thys in experyence is tryde,I say thys mater standeth clere on my syde.Wynde Myller.Well, syns thys wyll not serve, I wyll alledge the reste.Syr, for our myllys I saye myne is the beste.My wynd-myll shall grynd more corne in one our675Then thy water-myll shall in thre or foure,Ye more then thyne shulde in a hole yere,Yf thou myghtest have as thou hast wyshyd here.For thou desyrest to have excesse of rayne,Whych thyng to the were the worst thou couldyst obtayne.680For, yf thou dydyst, it were a playne induccyon[177]To make thyne owne desyer thyne owne destruccyon.For in excesse of rayne at any floodYour myllys must stande styll; they can do no good.And whan the wynde doth blow the uttermost685Our wyndmylles walke a-mayne in every cost.For, as we se the wynde in hys estate,We moder[178]our-saylys after the same rate.Syns our myllys grynde so farre faster then yours,And also they may grynde all tymes and howrs,690I say we nede no water-mylles at all,For wyndmylles be suffycyent to serve all.Water Myller.Thou spekest of all and consyderest not halfe!In boste of thy gryste thou art wyse as a calfe!For, though above us your mylles grynde farre faster,C iii 695What helpe to those from whome ye be myche farther?And, of two sortes, yf the tone shold be conserved,I thynke yt mete the moste nomber be served.In vales and weldes, where moste commodyte is,There is most people: ye must graunte me this.700On hylles & downes, whyche partes are moste barayne,There muste be few; yt can no mo sustayne.I darre well say, yf yt were tryed even now,That there is ten of us to one of you.And where shuld chyefely all necessaryes be,705But there as people are moste in plente?More reason that you come vii. myle to myllThen all we of the vale sholde clyme the hyll.If rayne came reasonable, as I requyre yt,We sholde of your wynde mylles have nede no whyt.710
And, syr, as ye desyre wynde continuall,So wolde I have rayne ever-more to fall,Whyche two in experyence, ryght well ye se,555Ryght selde, or never, to-gether can be.For as longe as the wynde rewleth, yt is playne,Twenty to one ye get no drop of rayne;And when the element is to farre opprest,Downe commeth the rayne and setteth the wynde at reste.560By this, ye se, we can-not both obtayne.For ye must lacke wynde, or I must lacke rayne.Whertore I thynke good, before this audiens,Eche for our selfe to say, or we go hens;And whom is thought weykest, when we have fynysht,565Leve of his sewt and content to be banysht.
And, syr, as ye desyre wynde continuall,
So wolde I have rayne ever-more to fall,
Whyche two in experyence, ryght well ye se,555
Ryght selde, or never, to-gether can be.
For as longe as the wynde rewleth, yt is playne,
Twenty to one ye get no drop of rayne;
And when the element is to farre opprest,
Downe commeth the rayne and setteth the wynde at reste.560
By this, ye se, we can-not both obtayne.
For ye must lacke wynde, or I must lacke rayne.
Whertore I thynke good, before this audiens,
Eche for our selfe to say, or we go hens;
And whom is thought weykest, when we have fynysht,565
Leve of his sewt and content to be banysht.
Wynde Myller.In fayth, agreed! but then, by your lycens,Our mylles for a tyrne shall hange in suspens.Syns water and wynde is chyefely our sewt,Whyche best may be spared we woll fyrst dyspute.570Wherfore to the see my reason shall resorte,Where shyppes by meane of wynd try from port to porte,From lande to lande, in dystaunce many a myle,—Great is the passage and smale is the whyle.So great is the profile, as to me doth seme,C ib575That no man's wysdome the welth can exteme.[164]And syns the wynde is conveyer of allWho but the wynde shulde have thanke above all?
Wynde Myller.In fayth, agreed! but then, by your lycens,
Our mylles for a tyrne shall hange in suspens.
Syns water and wynde is chyefely our sewt,
Whyche best may be spared we woll fyrst dyspute.570
Wherfore to the see my reason shall resorte,
Where shyppes by meane of wynd try from port to porte,
From lande to lande, in dystaunce many a myle,—
Great is the passage and smale is the whyle.
So great is the profile, as to me doth seme,C ib575
That no man's wysdome the welth can exteme.[164]
And syns the wynde is conveyer of all
Who but the wynde shulde have thanke above all?
Water Myller.Amytte[165]in this place a tree here to growe,And therat the wynde in great rage to blowe;580When it hath all blowen, thys is a clere case,The tre removeth no here-bred[166]from hys place.No more wolde the shyppys, blow the best it cowde.All though it wolde blow downe both mast & shrowde,Except the shyppe flete[167]uppon the water585The wynde can ryght nought do,—a playne matter.Yet maye ye on water, wythout any wynde,Row forth your vessell where men wyll have her synde.[168]Nothynge more rejoyceth the maryner,Then meane cooles[169]of wynde and plente of water.590For, commenly, the cause of every wrackeIs excesse of wynde, where water doth lacke.In rage of these stormys the perell is sucheThat better were no wynde then so farre to muche.
Water Myller.Amytte[165]in this place a tree here to growe,
And therat the wynde in great rage to blowe;580
When it hath all blowen, thys is a clere case,
The tre removeth no here-bred[166]from hys place.
No more wolde the shyppys, blow the best it cowde.
All though it wolde blow downe both mast & shrowde,
Except the shyppe flete[167]uppon the water585
The wynde can ryght nought do,—a playne matter.
Yet maye ye on water, wythout any wynde,
Row forth your vessell where men wyll have her synde.[168]
Nothynge more rejoyceth the maryner,
Then meane cooles[169]of wynde and plente of water.590
For, commenly, the cause of every wracke
Is excesse of wynde, where water doth lacke.
In rage of these stormys the perell is suche
That better were no wynde then so farre to muche.
Wynde Myller.Well, yf my reason in thys may not stande,595I wyll forsake the see and lepe to lande.In every chyrche where goddys servyce is,The organs beare brunt of halfe the quere,[170]i-wys.Whyche causeth the sounde, of water or wynde?More-over for wynde thys thynge I fynde600For the most parte all maner mynstrelsy,By wynde they delyver theyr sound chefly,Fyll me a bagpype of your water full,As swetely shall it sounde as it were stuffyd with wull.
Wynde Myller.Well, yf my reason in thys may not stande,595
I wyll forsake the see and lepe to lande.
In every chyrche where goddys servyce is,
The organs beare brunt of halfe the quere,[170]i-wys.
Whyche causeth the sounde, of water or wynde?
More-over for wynde thys thynge I fynde600
For the most parte all maner mynstrelsy,
By wynde they delyver theyr sound chefly,
Fyll me a bagpype of your water full,
As swetely shall it sounde as it were stuffyd with wull.
Water Myller.On my fayth I thynke the moone be at the full,605For frantyke fansyes be then most plentefull.Which are at the pryde of theyr sprynge in your[171]hed,So farre from our matter he[171]is now fled.As for the wynde in any instrument,It is no percell of our argument,610We spake of wynde that comyth naturallyAnd that is wynde forcyd artyfycyally,Whyche is not to purpose. But, yf it were,And water, in dede, ryght nought coulde do there,Yet I thynke organs no suche commodyte,[172]C ii 615Wherby the water shulde banyshed be.And for your bagpypes, I take them as nyfuls,[173]Your mater is all in fansyes and tryfuls.
Water Myller.On my fayth I thynke the moone be at the full,605
For frantyke fansyes be then most plentefull.
Which are at the pryde of theyr sprynge in your[171]hed,
So farre from our matter he[171]is now fled.
As for the wynde in any instrument,
It is no percell of our argument,610
We spake of wynde that comyth naturally
And that is wynde forcyd artyfycyally,
Whyche is not to purpose. But, yf it were,
And water, in dede, ryght nought coulde do there,
Yet I thynke organs no suche commodyte,[172]C ii 615
Wherby the water shulde banyshed be.
And for your bagpypes, I take them as nyfuls,[173]
Your mater is all in fansyes and tryfuls.
Wynde Myller.By god, but ye shall not tryfull me of[174]so!Yf these thynges serve not, I wyll reherse mo.620And now to mynde there is one olde proverbe come,One bushell of marche dust is worth a kynges raunsome,What is a hundreth thousande bushels worth than?
Wynde Myller.By god, but ye shall not tryfull me of[174]so!
Yf these thynges serve not, I wyll reherse mo.620
And now to mynde there is one olde proverbe come,
One bushell of marche dust is worth a kynges raunsome,
What is a hundreth thousande bushels worth than?
Water Myller.Not one myte, for the thynge selfe, to no man.
Water Myller.Not one myte, for the thynge selfe, to no man.
Wynde Myller.Why shall wynde every-where thus be objecte?625Nay, in the hye wayes he shall take effecte,Where as the rayne doth never good but hurt,For wynde maketh but dust and water maketh durt.Powder or syrop, syrs, whyche lycke ye best?Who lycketh not the tone maye lycke up the rest.630But, sure, who-so-ever hath assayed such syppes,Had lever have dusty eyes then durty lyppes.And it is sayd, syns afore we were borne,That drought doth never make derth of corne.And well it is knowen, to the most foole here,635How rayne hath pryced corne within this vii. yeare.[175]
Wynde Myller.Why shall wynde every-where thus be objecte?625
Nay, in the hye wayes he shall take effecte,
Where as the rayne doth never good but hurt,
For wynde maketh but dust and water maketh durt.
Powder or syrop, syrs, whyche lycke ye best?
Who lycketh not the tone maye lycke up the rest.630
But, sure, who-so-ever hath assayed such syppes,
Had lever have dusty eyes then durty lyppes.
And it is sayd, syns afore we were borne,
That drought doth never make derth of corne.
And well it is knowen, to the most foole here,635
How rayne hath pryced corne within this vii. yeare.[175]
Water Myller.Syr, I pray the, spare me a lytyll season.And I shall brevely conclude the wyth reason.Put case on[176]somers daye wythout wynde to be,And ragyous wynde in wynter dayes two or thre,640Mych more shall dry that one calme daye in somer,Then shall those thre wyndy dayes in wynter.Whom shall we thanke for thys, when all is done?The thanke to wynde? Nay! Thanke chyefely the sone.And so for drought, yf corne therby encres,645The sone doth comfort and rype all dowtles,And oft the wynde so leyth the corne, god wot,That never after can it rype, but rot.Yf drought toke place, as ye say, yet maye ye se,Lytell helpeth the wynde in thys commodyte.650But, now, syr, I deny your pryncypyll.Yf drought ever were, it were impossybyllTo have ony grayne, for, or it can grow,Ye must plow your lande, harrow and sow,Whyche wyll not be, except ye maye have rayneC iib655To temper the grounde, and after agayneFor spryngynge and plumpyng all maner corneYet muste ye have water, or all is forlorne.Yf ye take water for no commodyteYet must ye take it for thynge of necessyte,660For washynge, for skowrynge, all fylth clensynge,Where water lacketh what bestely beynge!In brewyng, in bakynge, in dressynge of meate,Yf ye lacke water, what coulde ye drynke or eate?Wythout water coulde lyve neyther man nor best,665For water preservyth both moste and lest.For water coulde I say a thousande thynges mo,Savynge as now the tyme wyll not serve so;And as for that wynde that you do sew fore,Is good for your wynde-myll and for no more.670Syr, syth all thys in experyence is tryde,I say thys mater standeth clere on my syde.
Water Myller.Syr, I pray the, spare me a lytyll season.
And I shall brevely conclude the wyth reason.
Put case on[176]somers daye wythout wynde to be,
And ragyous wynde in wynter dayes two or thre,640
Mych more shall dry that one calme daye in somer,
Then shall those thre wyndy dayes in wynter.
Whom shall we thanke for thys, when all is done?
The thanke to wynde? Nay! Thanke chyefely the sone.
And so for drought, yf corne therby encres,645
The sone doth comfort and rype all dowtles,
And oft the wynde so leyth the corne, god wot,
That never after can it rype, but rot.
Yf drought toke place, as ye say, yet maye ye se,
Lytell helpeth the wynde in thys commodyte.650
But, now, syr, I deny your pryncypyll.
Yf drought ever were, it were impossybyll
To have ony grayne, for, or it can grow,
Ye must plow your lande, harrow and sow,
Whyche wyll not be, except ye maye have rayneC iib655
To temper the grounde, and after agayne
For spryngynge and plumpyng all maner corne
Yet muste ye have water, or all is forlorne.
Yf ye take water for no commodyte
Yet must ye take it for thynge of necessyte,660
For washynge, for skowrynge, all fylth clensynge,
Where water lacketh what bestely beynge!
In brewyng, in bakynge, in dressynge of meate,
Yf ye lacke water, what coulde ye drynke or eate?
Wythout water coulde lyve neyther man nor best,665
For water preservyth both moste and lest.
For water coulde I say a thousande thynges mo,
Savynge as now the tyme wyll not serve so;
And as for that wynde that you do sew fore,
Is good for your wynde-myll and for no more.670
Syr, syth all thys in experyence is tryde,
I say thys mater standeth clere on my syde.
Wynde Myller.Well, syns thys wyll not serve, I wyll alledge the reste.Syr, for our myllys I saye myne is the beste.My wynd-myll shall grynd more corne in one our675Then thy water-myll shall in thre or foure,Ye more then thyne shulde in a hole yere,Yf thou myghtest have as thou hast wyshyd here.For thou desyrest to have excesse of rayne,Whych thyng to the were the worst thou couldyst obtayne.680For, yf thou dydyst, it were a playne induccyon[177]To make thyne owne desyer thyne owne destruccyon.For in excesse of rayne at any floodYour myllys must stande styll; they can do no good.And whan the wynde doth blow the uttermost685Our wyndmylles walke a-mayne in every cost.For, as we se the wynde in hys estate,We moder[178]our-saylys after the same rate.Syns our myllys grynde so farre faster then yours,And also they may grynde all tymes and howrs,690I say we nede no water-mylles at all,For wyndmylles be suffycyent to serve all.
Wynde Myller.Well, syns thys wyll not serve, I wyll alledge the reste.
Syr, for our myllys I saye myne is the beste.
My wynd-myll shall grynd more corne in one our675
Then thy water-myll shall in thre or foure,
Ye more then thyne shulde in a hole yere,
Yf thou myghtest have as thou hast wyshyd here.
For thou desyrest to have excesse of rayne,
Whych thyng to the were the worst thou couldyst obtayne.680
For, yf thou dydyst, it were a playne induccyon[177]
To make thyne owne desyer thyne owne destruccyon.
For in excesse of rayne at any flood
Your myllys must stande styll; they can do no good.
And whan the wynde doth blow the uttermost685
Our wyndmylles walke a-mayne in every cost.
For, as we se the wynde in hys estate,
We moder[178]our-saylys after the same rate.
Syns our myllys grynde so farre faster then yours,
And also they may grynde all tymes and howrs,690
I say we nede no water-mylles at all,
For wyndmylles be suffycyent to serve all.
Water Myller.Thou spekest of all and consyderest not halfe!In boste of thy gryste thou art wyse as a calfe!For, though above us your mylles grynde farre faster,C iii 695What helpe to those from whome ye be myche farther?And, of two sortes, yf the tone shold be conserved,I thynke yt mete the moste nomber be served.In vales and weldes, where moste commodyte is,There is most people: ye must graunte me this.700On hylles & downes, whyche partes are moste barayne,There muste be few; yt can no mo sustayne.I darre well say, yf yt were tryed even now,That there is ten of us to one of you.And where shuld chyefely all necessaryes be,705But there as people are moste in plente?More reason that you come vii. myle to myllThen all we of the vale sholde clyme the hyll.If rayne came reasonable, as I requyre yt,We sholde of your wynde mylles have nede no whyt.710
Water Myller.Thou spekest of all and consyderest not halfe!
In boste of thy gryste thou art wyse as a calfe!
For, though above us your mylles grynde farre faster,C iii 695
What helpe to those from whome ye be myche farther?
And, of two sortes, yf the tone shold be conserved,
I thynke yt mete the moste nomber be served.
In vales and weldes, where moste commodyte is,
There is most people: ye must graunte me this.700
On hylles & downes, whyche partes are moste barayne,
There muste be few; yt can no mo sustayne.
I darre well say, yf yt were tryed even now,
That there is ten of us to one of you.
And where shuld chyefely all necessaryes be,705
But there as people are moste in plente?
More reason that you come vii. myle to myll
Then all we of the vale sholde clyme the hyll.
If rayne came reasonable, as I requyre yt,
We sholde of your wynde mylles have nede no whyt.710
EntrethMery-reporte.
Mery-reporte.Stop, folysh knaves, for your reasonynge is suche,That ye have resoned even ynough and to much.I hard all the wordes that ye both have hadde,So helpe me god, the knaves be more then madde!Nother of them both that hath wyt nor grace,715To perceyve that both myllys may serve in place.Betwene water and wynde there is no suche let,But eche myll may have tyme to use his fet.Whyche thynge I can tell by experyens;For I have, of myne owne, not farre from hens,720In a corner to-gether a couple of myllys,Standynge in a marres[179]betweene two hyllys,Not of inherytaunce, but by my wyfe;She is feofed in the tayle for terme of her lyfe,The one for wynde, the other for water.725And of them both, I thanke god, there standeth[180]nother;For, in a good hour be yt spoken,The water gate is no soner open,But clap, sayth the wyndmyll, even strayght behynde!There is good spedde, the devyll and all they grynde!730But whether that the hopper be dusty,Or that the mylstonys be sumwhat rusty,By the mas, the meale is myschevous musty!And yf ye thynke my tale be not trusty,C iiibI make ye trew promyse: come, when ye lyste,735We shall fynde meane ye shall taste of the gryst.Water Myller.The corne at receyte happely is not good.Mery-reporte.There can be no sweeter, by the sweet roode!Another thynge yet, whyche shall not be cloked,My watermyll many tymes is choked.740Water Myller.So wyll she be, though ye shuld burste your bones,Except ye be perfyt in settynge your stones.Fere not the lydger,[181]beware your ronner.Yet this for the lydger, or ye have wonne her,Parchaunce your lydger doth lacke good peckyng.745Mery-reporte.So sayth my wyfe, & that maketh all our checkyng.[182]She wolde have the myll peckt, peckt, peckt, every day!But, by god, myllers muste pecke when they may!So oft have we peckt that our stones wax right thynne,And all our other gere not worth a pyn,750For with peckynge and peckyng I have so wrought,That I have peckt a good peckynge-yron to nought.How be yt, yf I stycke no better tyll her,My wyfe sayth she wyll have a new myller.But let yt passe! and now to our mater!755I say my myllys lacke nother wynde nor water;No more do yours, as farre as nede doth requyre.But, syns ye can not agree, I wyll desyreJupyter to set you both in suche restAs to your welth and his honour may stande best.760Water Myller.I praye you hertely remember me.Wynde Myller.Let not me be forgoten, I beseche ye.
Mery-reporte.Stop, folysh knaves, for your reasonynge is suche,That ye have resoned even ynough and to much.I hard all the wordes that ye both have hadde,So helpe me god, the knaves be more then madde!Nother of them both that hath wyt nor grace,715To perceyve that both myllys may serve in place.Betwene water and wynde there is no suche let,But eche myll may have tyme to use his fet.Whyche thynge I can tell by experyens;For I have, of myne owne, not farre from hens,720In a corner to-gether a couple of myllys,Standynge in a marres[179]betweene two hyllys,Not of inherytaunce, but by my wyfe;She is feofed in the tayle for terme of her lyfe,The one for wynde, the other for water.725And of them both, I thanke god, there standeth[180]nother;For, in a good hour be yt spoken,The water gate is no soner open,But clap, sayth the wyndmyll, even strayght behynde!There is good spedde, the devyll and all they grynde!730But whether that the hopper be dusty,Or that the mylstonys be sumwhat rusty,By the mas, the meale is myschevous musty!And yf ye thynke my tale be not trusty,C iiibI make ye trew promyse: come, when ye lyste,735We shall fynde meane ye shall taste of the gryst.
Mery-reporte.Stop, folysh knaves, for your reasonynge is suche,
That ye have resoned even ynough and to much.
I hard all the wordes that ye both have hadde,
So helpe me god, the knaves be more then madde!
Nother of them both that hath wyt nor grace,715
To perceyve that both myllys may serve in place.
Betwene water and wynde there is no suche let,
But eche myll may have tyme to use his fet.
Whyche thynge I can tell by experyens;
For I have, of myne owne, not farre from hens,720
In a corner to-gether a couple of myllys,
Standynge in a marres[179]betweene two hyllys,
Not of inherytaunce, but by my wyfe;
She is feofed in the tayle for terme of her lyfe,
The one for wynde, the other for water.725
And of them both, I thanke god, there standeth[180]nother;
For, in a good hour be yt spoken,
The water gate is no soner open,
But clap, sayth the wyndmyll, even strayght behynde!
There is good spedde, the devyll and all they grynde!730
But whether that the hopper be dusty,
Or that the mylstonys be sumwhat rusty,
By the mas, the meale is myschevous musty!
And yf ye thynke my tale be not trusty,C iiib
I make ye trew promyse: come, when ye lyste,735
We shall fynde meane ye shall taste of the gryst.
Water Myller.The corne at receyte happely is not good.
Water Myller.The corne at receyte happely is not good.
Mery-reporte.There can be no sweeter, by the sweet roode!Another thynge yet, whyche shall not be cloked,My watermyll many tymes is choked.740
Mery-reporte.There can be no sweeter, by the sweet roode!
Another thynge yet, whyche shall not be cloked,
My watermyll many tymes is choked.740
Water Myller.So wyll she be, though ye shuld burste your bones,Except ye be perfyt in settynge your stones.Fere not the lydger,[181]beware your ronner.Yet this for the lydger, or ye have wonne her,Parchaunce your lydger doth lacke good peckyng.745
Water Myller.So wyll she be, though ye shuld burste your bones,
Except ye be perfyt in settynge your stones.
Fere not the lydger,[181]beware your ronner.
Yet this for the lydger, or ye have wonne her,
Parchaunce your lydger doth lacke good peckyng.745
Mery-reporte.So sayth my wyfe, & that maketh all our checkyng.[182]She wolde have the myll peckt, peckt, peckt, every day!But, by god, myllers muste pecke when they may!So oft have we peckt that our stones wax right thynne,And all our other gere not worth a pyn,750For with peckynge and peckyng I have so wrought,That I have peckt a good peckynge-yron to nought.How be yt, yf I stycke no better tyll her,My wyfe sayth she wyll have a new myller.But let yt passe! and now to our mater!755I say my myllys lacke nother wynde nor water;No more do yours, as farre as nede doth requyre.But, syns ye can not agree, I wyll desyreJupyter to set you both in suche restAs to your welth and his honour may stande best.760
Mery-reporte.So sayth my wyfe, & that maketh all our checkyng.[182]
She wolde have the myll peckt, peckt, peckt, every day!
But, by god, myllers muste pecke when they may!
So oft have we peckt that our stones wax right thynne,
And all our other gere not worth a pyn,750
For with peckynge and peckyng I have so wrought,
That I have peckt a good peckynge-yron to nought.
How be yt, yf I stycke no better tyll her,
My wyfe sayth she wyll have a new myller.
But let yt passe! and now to our mater!755
I say my myllys lacke nother wynde nor water;
No more do yours, as farre as nede doth requyre.
But, syns ye can not agree, I wyll desyre
Jupyter to set you both in suche rest
As to your welth and his honour may stande best.760
Water Myller.I praye you hertely remember me.
Water Myller.I praye you hertely remember me.
Wynde Myller.Let not me be forgoten, I beseche ye.
Wynde Myller.Let not me be forgoten, I beseche ye.
BothMyllersgoth forth.
Mery-reporte.If I remember you not both alykeI wolde ye were over the eares in the dyke.Now be we ryd of two knaves at one chaunce.765By saynte Thomas, yt is a knavyshe ryddaunce.
Mery-reporte.If I remember you not both alykeI wolde ye were over the eares in the dyke.Now be we ryd of two knaves at one chaunce.765By saynte Thomas, yt is a knavyshe ryddaunce.
Mery-reporte.If I remember you not both alyke
I wolde ye were over the eares in the dyke.
Now be we ryd of two knaves at one chaunce.765
By saynte Thomas, yt is a knavyshe ryddaunce.
TheGentylwomanentreth.
Gentylwoman.Now, good god, what a foly is this?What sholde I do where so mych people is?I know not how to passe in to the god now.Mery-reporte.No, but ye know how he may passe into you.770Gentylwoman.I pray you let me in at the backe syde.Mery-reporte.Ye, shall I so, and your fore syde so wyde?C ivNay not yet; but syns ye love to be alone,We twayne will into a corner anone.But fyrste, I pray you, come your way hyther,775And let us twayne chat a whyle to-gyther.Gentylwoman.Syr, as to you I have lyttell mater.My commynge is to speke wyth Jupiter.Mery-reporte.Stande ye styll a whyle, and I wyll go proveWhether that the god wyll be brought in love.780My lorde, how nowe! loke uppe lustely!Here is a derlynge come, by saynt Antony.And yf yt be your pleasure to mary,Speke quyckly; for she may not tary.In fayth, I thynke ye may wynne her anone;785For she wolde speke with your lordshyp alone.Jupyter.Sonne, that is not the thynge at this tyme ment.If her sewt concerne no cause of our hyther resorte,Sende her out of place; but yf she be bentTo that purpose, heare her and make us reporte.790Mery-reporte.I count women lost, yf we love them not well,For ye se god loveth them never a dele.Maystres ye can not speake wyth the god.Gentylwoman.No! why?Mery-reporte.By my fayth, for his lordship is ryght besy.Wyth a pece of worke that nedes must be doone;795Even now is he makyng of a new moone.He sayth your olde moones be so farre tasted,[183]That all the goodnes of them is wasted,Whyche of the great wete hath ben moste materFor olde moones be leake;[184]they can holde no water.800But for this new mone, I durst lay my gowne,Except a few droppes at her goyng downe,Ye get no rayne tyll her arysynge,Wythout yt nede, and then no mans devysyngeCoulde wyshe the fashyon of rayne to be so good;805Not gushynge out lyke gutters of Noyes flood,But small droppes sprynklyng softly on the grounde;Though they fell on a sponge they wold gyve no sounde.This new moone shall make a thing spryng more in this whileThen a olde moone shal while a man may go a mile.810By that tyme the god hath all made an ende,C ivbYe shall se how the wether wyll amende.By saynt Anne, he goeth to worke even boldely.I thynke hym wyse ynough; for he loketh oldely!Wherfore, maystres, be ye now of good chere;815For though in his presens ye can not appere,Tell me your mater and let me alone.Mayhappe I will thynke on you when you be gone.Gentylwoman.Forsoth, the cause of my commynge is this:I am a woman right fayre, as ye se;820In no creature more beauty then in me is;And, syns I am fayre, fayre wolde I kepe me,But the sonne in somer so sore doth burne me,In wynter the wynde on every side me.No parte of the yere wote I where to turne me,825But even in my house am I fayne to hyde me.And so do all other that beuty have;In whose name at this tyme, this sewt I make,Besechynge Jupyter to graunt that I crave;Whyche is this, that yt may please hym, for our sake,830To sende us wether close and temperate,No sonne-shyne, no frost, nor no wynde to blow.Then wolde we get[185]the stretes trym as a parate.[186]Ye shold se how we wolde set our-selfe to show.Mery-reporte.Jet where ye wyll, I swere by saynt Quintyne,835Ye passe them all, both in your owne conceyt and myne.Gentylwoman.If we had wether to walke at our pleasure,Our lyves wolde be mery out of measure.One part of the day for our apparellyngeAnother parte for eatynge and drynkynge,840And all the reste in stretes to be walkynge,Or in the house to passe tyme with talkynge.Mery-reporte.When serve ye God?Gentylwoman.Who bosteth in vertue are but dawes[187]Mery-reporte.Ye do the better, namely syns there is no cause.How spende ye the nyght?Gentylwoman.In daunsynge and syngynge845Tyll mydnyght, and then fall to slepynge.Mery-reporte.Why, swete herte, by your false fayth, can ye syng?Gentylwoman.Nay, nay, but I love yt above all thynge.Mery-reporte.Now, by my trouth, for the love that I owe you,D iYou shall here what pleasure I can shew you.850One songe have I for you, suche as yt is,And yf yt were better ye should have yt, by gys.[188]Gentylwoman.Mary, syr, I thanke you even hartely.Mery-reporte.Come on, syrs; but now let us synge lust[e]ly.
Gentylwoman.Now, good god, what a foly is this?What sholde I do where so mych people is?I know not how to passe in to the god now.
Gentylwoman.Now, good god, what a foly is this?
What sholde I do where so mych people is?
I know not how to passe in to the god now.
Mery-reporte.No, but ye know how he may passe into you.770
Mery-reporte.No, but ye know how he may passe into you.770
Gentylwoman.I pray you let me in at the backe syde.
Gentylwoman.I pray you let me in at the backe syde.
Mery-reporte.Ye, shall I so, and your fore syde so wyde?C ivNay not yet; but syns ye love to be alone,We twayne will into a corner anone.But fyrste, I pray you, come your way hyther,775And let us twayne chat a whyle to-gyther.
Mery-reporte.Ye, shall I so, and your fore syde so wyde?C iv
Nay not yet; but syns ye love to be alone,
We twayne will into a corner anone.
But fyrste, I pray you, come your way hyther,775
And let us twayne chat a whyle to-gyther.
Gentylwoman.Syr, as to you I have lyttell mater.My commynge is to speke wyth Jupiter.
Gentylwoman.Syr, as to you I have lyttell mater.
My commynge is to speke wyth Jupiter.
Mery-reporte.Stande ye styll a whyle, and I wyll go proveWhether that the god wyll be brought in love.780My lorde, how nowe! loke uppe lustely!Here is a derlynge come, by saynt Antony.And yf yt be your pleasure to mary,Speke quyckly; for she may not tary.In fayth, I thynke ye may wynne her anone;785For she wolde speke with your lordshyp alone.
Mery-reporte.Stande ye styll a whyle, and I wyll go prove
Whether that the god wyll be brought in love.780
My lorde, how nowe! loke uppe lustely!
Here is a derlynge come, by saynt Antony.
And yf yt be your pleasure to mary,
Speke quyckly; for she may not tary.
In fayth, I thynke ye may wynne her anone;785
For she wolde speke with your lordshyp alone.
Jupyter.Sonne, that is not the thynge at this tyme ment.If her sewt concerne no cause of our hyther resorte,Sende her out of place; but yf she be bentTo that purpose, heare her and make us reporte.790
Jupyter.Sonne, that is not the thynge at this tyme ment.
If her sewt concerne no cause of our hyther resorte,
Sende her out of place; but yf she be bent
To that purpose, heare her and make us reporte.790
Mery-reporte.I count women lost, yf we love them not well,For ye se god loveth them never a dele.Maystres ye can not speake wyth the god.
Mery-reporte.I count women lost, yf we love them not well,
For ye se god loveth them never a dele.
Maystres ye can not speake wyth the god.
Gentylwoman.No! why?
Gentylwoman.No! why?
Mery-reporte.By my fayth, for his lordship is ryght besy.Wyth a pece of worke that nedes must be doone;795Even now is he makyng of a new moone.He sayth your olde moones be so farre tasted,[183]That all the goodnes of them is wasted,Whyche of the great wete hath ben moste materFor olde moones be leake;[184]they can holde no water.800But for this new mone, I durst lay my gowne,Except a few droppes at her goyng downe,Ye get no rayne tyll her arysynge,Wythout yt nede, and then no mans devysyngeCoulde wyshe the fashyon of rayne to be so good;805Not gushynge out lyke gutters of Noyes flood,But small droppes sprynklyng softly on the grounde;Though they fell on a sponge they wold gyve no sounde.This new moone shall make a thing spryng more in this whileThen a olde moone shal while a man may go a mile.810By that tyme the god hath all made an ende,C ivbYe shall se how the wether wyll amende.By saynt Anne, he goeth to worke even boldely.I thynke hym wyse ynough; for he loketh oldely!Wherfore, maystres, be ye now of good chere;815For though in his presens ye can not appere,Tell me your mater and let me alone.Mayhappe I will thynke on you when you be gone.
Mery-reporte.By my fayth, for his lordship is ryght besy.
Wyth a pece of worke that nedes must be doone;795
Even now is he makyng of a new moone.
He sayth your olde moones be so farre tasted,[183]
That all the goodnes of them is wasted,
Whyche of the great wete hath ben moste mater
For olde moones be leake;[184]they can holde no water.800
But for this new mone, I durst lay my gowne,
Except a few droppes at her goyng downe,
Ye get no rayne tyll her arysynge,
Wythout yt nede, and then no mans devysynge
Coulde wyshe the fashyon of rayne to be so good;805
Not gushynge out lyke gutters of Noyes flood,
But small droppes sprynklyng softly on the grounde;
Though they fell on a sponge they wold gyve no sounde.
This new moone shall make a thing spryng more in this while
Then a olde moone shal while a man may go a mile.810
By that tyme the god hath all made an ende,C ivb
Ye shall se how the wether wyll amende.
By saynt Anne, he goeth to worke even boldely.
I thynke hym wyse ynough; for he loketh oldely!
Wherfore, maystres, be ye now of good chere;815
For though in his presens ye can not appere,
Tell me your mater and let me alone.
Mayhappe I will thynke on you when you be gone.
Gentylwoman.Forsoth, the cause of my commynge is this:I am a woman right fayre, as ye se;820In no creature more beauty then in me is;And, syns I am fayre, fayre wolde I kepe me,But the sonne in somer so sore doth burne me,In wynter the wynde on every side me.No parte of the yere wote I where to turne me,825But even in my house am I fayne to hyde me.And so do all other that beuty have;In whose name at this tyme, this sewt I make,Besechynge Jupyter to graunt that I crave;Whyche is this, that yt may please hym, for our sake,830To sende us wether close and temperate,No sonne-shyne, no frost, nor no wynde to blow.Then wolde we get[185]the stretes trym as a parate.[186]Ye shold se how we wolde set our-selfe to show.
Gentylwoman.Forsoth, the cause of my commynge is this:
I am a woman right fayre, as ye se;820
In no creature more beauty then in me is;
And, syns I am fayre, fayre wolde I kepe me,
But the sonne in somer so sore doth burne me,
In wynter the wynde on every side me.
No parte of the yere wote I where to turne me,825
But even in my house am I fayne to hyde me.
And so do all other that beuty have;
In whose name at this tyme, this sewt I make,
Besechynge Jupyter to graunt that I crave;
Whyche is this, that yt may please hym, for our sake,830
To sende us wether close and temperate,
No sonne-shyne, no frost, nor no wynde to blow.
Then wolde we get[185]the stretes trym as a parate.[186]
Ye shold se how we wolde set our-selfe to show.
Mery-reporte.Jet where ye wyll, I swere by saynt Quintyne,835Ye passe them all, both in your owne conceyt and myne.
Mery-reporte.Jet where ye wyll, I swere by saynt Quintyne,835
Ye passe them all, both in your owne conceyt and myne.
Gentylwoman.If we had wether to walke at our pleasure,Our lyves wolde be mery out of measure.One part of the day for our apparellyngeAnother parte for eatynge and drynkynge,840And all the reste in stretes to be walkynge,Or in the house to passe tyme with talkynge.
Gentylwoman.If we had wether to walke at our pleasure,
Our lyves wolde be mery out of measure.
One part of the day for our apparellynge
Another parte for eatynge and drynkynge,840
And all the reste in stretes to be walkynge,
Or in the house to passe tyme with talkynge.
Mery-reporte.When serve ye God?
Mery-reporte.When serve ye God?
Gentylwoman.Who bosteth in vertue are but dawes[187]
Gentylwoman.Who bosteth in vertue are but dawes[187]
Mery-reporte.Ye do the better, namely syns there is no cause.How spende ye the nyght?
Mery-reporte.Ye do the better, namely syns there is no cause.
How spende ye the nyght?
Gentylwoman.In daunsynge and syngynge845Tyll mydnyght, and then fall to slepynge.
Gentylwoman.In daunsynge and syngynge845
Tyll mydnyght, and then fall to slepynge.
Mery-reporte.Why, swete herte, by your false fayth, can ye syng?
Mery-reporte.Why, swete herte, by your false fayth, can ye syng?
Gentylwoman.Nay, nay, but I love yt above all thynge.
Gentylwoman.Nay, nay, but I love yt above all thynge.
Mery-reporte.Now, by my trouth, for the love that I owe you,D iYou shall here what pleasure I can shew you.850One songe have I for you, suche as yt is,And yf yt were better ye should have yt, by gys.[188]
Mery-reporte.Now, by my trouth, for the love that I owe you,D i
You shall here what pleasure I can shew you.850
One songe have I for you, suche as yt is,
And yf yt were better ye should have yt, by gys.[188]
Gentylwoman.Mary, syr, I thanke you even hartely.
Gentylwoman.Mary, syr, I thanke you even hartely.
Mery-reporte.Come on, syrs; but now let us synge lust[e]ly.
Mery-reporte.Come on, syrs; but now let us synge lust[e]ly.
Here they singe.
Gentylwoman.Syr, this is well done; I hertely thanke you.855Ye have done me pleasure, I make God avowe.Ones in a nyght I long for suche a fyt;For longe tyme have I bene brought up in yt.Mery-reporte.Oft tyme yt is sene, both in court and towne,Longe be women a bryngyng up & sone brought downe.860So fet[189]yt is, so nete yt is, so nyse yt is,So trycke[190]yt is, so quycke yt is, so wyse yt is.I fere my self, excepte I may entreat her,I am so farre in love I shall forget her.Now, good maystres, I pray you, let me kys ye—865Gentylwoman.Kys me, quoth a! Why, nay, syr, I wys ye.Mery-reporte.What! yes, hardely! Kys me ons and no more.I never desyred to kys you before.
Gentylwoman.Syr, this is well done; I hertely thanke you.855Ye have done me pleasure, I make God avowe.Ones in a nyght I long for suche a fyt;For longe tyme have I bene brought up in yt.
Gentylwoman.Syr, this is well done; I hertely thanke you.855
Ye have done me pleasure, I make God avowe.
Ones in a nyght I long for suche a fyt;
For longe tyme have I bene brought up in yt.
Mery-reporte.Oft tyme yt is sene, both in court and towne,Longe be women a bryngyng up & sone brought downe.860So fet[189]yt is, so nete yt is, so nyse yt is,So trycke[190]yt is, so quycke yt is, so wyse yt is.I fere my self, excepte I may entreat her,I am so farre in love I shall forget her.Now, good maystres, I pray you, let me kys ye—865
Mery-reporte.Oft tyme yt is sene, both in court and towne,
Longe be women a bryngyng up & sone brought downe.860
So fet[189]yt is, so nete yt is, so nyse yt is,
So trycke[190]yt is, so quycke yt is, so wyse yt is.
I fere my self, excepte I may entreat her,
I am so farre in love I shall forget her.
Now, good maystres, I pray you, let me kys ye—865
Gentylwoman.Kys me, quoth a! Why, nay, syr, I wys ye.
Gentylwoman.Kys me, quoth a! Why, nay, syr, I wys ye.
Mery-reporte.What! yes, hardely! Kys me ons and no more.I never desyred to kys you before.
Mery-reporte.What! yes, hardely! Kys me ons and no more.
I never desyred to kys you before.
Here theLaundercometh in.
Launder.Why! have ye alway kyst her behynde?In fayth, good inough, yf yt be your mynde.870And yf your appetyte serve you so to do,Byr lady, I wolde ye had kyst myne ars to!Mery-reporte.To whom dost thou speake, foule hore? canst thou tell?Launder.Nay, by my trouth! I, syr, not very well!But by conjecture this ges[191]I have,875That I do speke to an olde baudy knave.I saw you dally with your symper de cokket[192]I rede you beware she pyck not your pokket.Such ydyll huswyfes do now and thanThynke all well wonne that they pyck from a man.880Yet such of some men shall have more favour,Then we, that for them dayly toyle and labour.But I trust the god wyll be so indyfferentThat she shall fayle some parte of her entent.Mery-reporte.No dout he wyll deale so gracyously885That all folke shall be served indyfferently.How be yt, I tell the trewth, my offyce is sucheD ibThat I muste reporte eche sewt, lyttell or muche.Wherfore, wyth the god syns thou canst not speke,Trust me wyth thy sewt, I wyll not fayle yt to breke.[193]890Launder.Then leave not to muche to yonder gyglet.[194]For her desyre contrary to myne is set.I herde by her tale she wolde banyshe the sonne,And then were we pore launders all undonne.Excepte the sonne shyne that our clothes may dry,895We can do ryght nought in our laundrye.An other maner losse, yf we sholde mys,Then of suche nycebyceters[195]as she is.Gentylwoman.I thynke yt better that thou envy me,Then I sholde stande at rewarde[196]of thy pytte.900It is the guyse of such grose quenes as thou artWith such as I am evermore to thwart.By cause that no beauty ye can obtayneTherfore ye have us that be fayre in dysdayne.Launder.When I was as yonge as thou art now,905I was wythin lyttel as fayre as thou,And so myght have kept me, yf I hadde wolde,And as derely my youth I myght have soldeAs the tryckest and fayrest of you all.But I feared parels[197]that after myght fall,910Wherfore some busynes I dyd me provyde,Lest vyce myght enter on every syde,Whyche hath fre entre where ydelnesse doth reyne.It is not thy beauty that I dysdeyne,But thyne ydyll lyfe that thou hast rehersed,915Whych any good womans hert wolde have perced.For I perceyve in daunsynge and syngynge,In eatyng and drynkynge and thyne apparellynge,Is all the joye, wherin thy herte is set.But nought of all this doth thyne owne labour get;920For, haddest thou nothyng but of thyne owne travayle,Thou myghtest go as naked as my nayle.Me thynke thou shuldest abhorre suche ydylnesAnd passe thy tyme in some honest besynes;Better to lese some parte of thy beaute,925Then so ofte to jeoberd all thyne honeste.But I thynke, rather then thou woldest so do,D iiThou haddest lever have us lyve ydylly to.And so, no doute, we shulde, yf thou myghtest haveThe clere sone banysht, as thou dost crave:930Then were we launders marde and unto theThyne owne request were smale commodyte.For of these twayne I thynke yt farre betterThy face were sone-burned, and thy clothis the swetter,[198]Then that the sonne from shynynge sholde be smytten,935To kepe thy face fayre and thy smocke beshytten.Syr, howe lycke ye my reason in her case?Mery-reporte.Such a raylynge hore, by the holy mas,I never herde, in all my lyfe, tyll now.In dede I love ryght well the ton of you,940But, or I wolde kepe you both, by goddes mother,The devyll shall have the tone to fet[199]the tother.Launder.Promyse me to speke that the sone may shyne bryght,And I wyll be gone quyckly for all nyght.Mery-reporte.Get you both hens, I pray you hartely;945Your sewtes I perceyve and wyll reporte them trewlyUnto Jupyter, at the next leysure,And in the same desyre, to know his pleasure;Whyche knowledge hadde, even as he doth show yt,Feare ye not, tyme enough, ye shall know it.950Gentylwoman.Syr, yf ye medyll, remember me fyrste.Launder.Then in this medlynge my parte shal be the wurst.Mery-reporte.Now, I beseche our lorde, the devyll the[200]burst.Who medlyth wyth many I hold hym accurst,Thou hore, can I medyl wyth you both at ones.955
Launder.Why! have ye alway kyst her behynde?In fayth, good inough, yf yt be your mynde.870And yf your appetyte serve you so to do,Byr lady, I wolde ye had kyst myne ars to!
Launder.Why! have ye alway kyst her behynde?
In fayth, good inough, yf yt be your mynde.870
And yf your appetyte serve you so to do,
Byr lady, I wolde ye had kyst myne ars to!
Mery-reporte.To whom dost thou speake, foule hore? canst thou tell?
Launder.Nay, by my trouth! I, syr, not very well!But by conjecture this ges[191]I have,875That I do speke to an olde baudy knave.I saw you dally with your symper de cokket[192]I rede you beware she pyck not your pokket.Such ydyll huswyfes do now and thanThynke all well wonne that they pyck from a man.880Yet such of some men shall have more favour,Then we, that for them dayly toyle and labour.But I trust the god wyll be so indyfferentThat she shall fayle some parte of her entent.
Launder.Nay, by my trouth! I, syr, not very well!
But by conjecture this ges[191]I have,875
That I do speke to an olde baudy knave.
I saw you dally with your symper de cokket[192]
I rede you beware she pyck not your pokket.
Such ydyll huswyfes do now and than
Thynke all well wonne that they pyck from a man.880
Yet such of some men shall have more favour,
Then we, that for them dayly toyle and labour.
But I trust the god wyll be so indyfferent
That she shall fayle some parte of her entent.
Mery-reporte.No dout he wyll deale so gracyously885That all folke shall be served indyfferently.How be yt, I tell the trewth, my offyce is sucheD ibThat I muste reporte eche sewt, lyttell or muche.Wherfore, wyth the god syns thou canst not speke,Trust me wyth thy sewt, I wyll not fayle yt to breke.[193]890
Mery-reporte.No dout he wyll deale so gracyously885
That all folke shall be served indyfferently.
How be yt, I tell the trewth, my offyce is sucheD ib
That I muste reporte eche sewt, lyttell or muche.
Wherfore, wyth the god syns thou canst not speke,
Trust me wyth thy sewt, I wyll not fayle yt to breke.[193]890
Launder.Then leave not to muche to yonder gyglet.[194]For her desyre contrary to myne is set.I herde by her tale she wolde banyshe the sonne,And then were we pore launders all undonne.Excepte the sonne shyne that our clothes may dry,895We can do ryght nought in our laundrye.An other maner losse, yf we sholde mys,Then of suche nycebyceters[195]as she is.
Launder.Then leave not to muche to yonder gyglet.[194]
For her desyre contrary to myne is set.
I herde by her tale she wolde banyshe the sonne,
And then were we pore launders all undonne.
Excepte the sonne shyne that our clothes may dry,895
We can do ryght nought in our laundrye.
An other maner losse, yf we sholde mys,
Then of suche nycebyceters[195]as she is.
Gentylwoman.I thynke yt better that thou envy me,Then I sholde stande at rewarde[196]of thy pytte.900It is the guyse of such grose quenes as thou artWith such as I am evermore to thwart.By cause that no beauty ye can obtayneTherfore ye have us that be fayre in dysdayne.
Gentylwoman.I thynke yt better that thou envy me,
Then I sholde stande at rewarde[196]of thy pytte.900
It is the guyse of such grose quenes as thou art
With such as I am evermore to thwart.
By cause that no beauty ye can obtayne
Therfore ye have us that be fayre in dysdayne.
Launder.When I was as yonge as thou art now,905I was wythin lyttel as fayre as thou,And so myght have kept me, yf I hadde wolde,And as derely my youth I myght have soldeAs the tryckest and fayrest of you all.But I feared parels[197]that after myght fall,910Wherfore some busynes I dyd me provyde,Lest vyce myght enter on every syde,Whyche hath fre entre where ydelnesse doth reyne.It is not thy beauty that I dysdeyne,But thyne ydyll lyfe that thou hast rehersed,915Whych any good womans hert wolde have perced.For I perceyve in daunsynge and syngynge,In eatyng and drynkynge and thyne apparellynge,Is all the joye, wherin thy herte is set.But nought of all this doth thyne owne labour get;920For, haddest thou nothyng but of thyne owne travayle,Thou myghtest go as naked as my nayle.Me thynke thou shuldest abhorre suche ydylnesAnd passe thy tyme in some honest besynes;Better to lese some parte of thy beaute,925Then so ofte to jeoberd all thyne honeste.But I thynke, rather then thou woldest so do,D iiThou haddest lever have us lyve ydylly to.And so, no doute, we shulde, yf thou myghtest haveThe clere sone banysht, as thou dost crave:930Then were we launders marde and unto theThyne owne request were smale commodyte.For of these twayne I thynke yt farre betterThy face were sone-burned, and thy clothis the swetter,[198]Then that the sonne from shynynge sholde be smytten,935To kepe thy face fayre and thy smocke beshytten.Syr, howe lycke ye my reason in her case?
Launder.When I was as yonge as thou art now,905
I was wythin lyttel as fayre as thou,
And so myght have kept me, yf I hadde wolde,
And as derely my youth I myght have solde
As the tryckest and fayrest of you all.
But I feared parels[197]that after myght fall,910
Wherfore some busynes I dyd me provyde,
Lest vyce myght enter on every syde,
Whyche hath fre entre where ydelnesse doth reyne.
It is not thy beauty that I dysdeyne,
But thyne ydyll lyfe that thou hast rehersed,915
Whych any good womans hert wolde have perced.
For I perceyve in daunsynge and syngynge,
In eatyng and drynkynge and thyne apparellynge,
Is all the joye, wherin thy herte is set.
But nought of all this doth thyne owne labour get;920
For, haddest thou nothyng but of thyne owne travayle,
Thou myghtest go as naked as my nayle.
Me thynke thou shuldest abhorre suche ydylnes
And passe thy tyme in some honest besynes;
Better to lese some parte of thy beaute,925
Then so ofte to jeoberd all thyne honeste.
But I thynke, rather then thou woldest so do,D ii
Thou haddest lever have us lyve ydylly to.
And so, no doute, we shulde, yf thou myghtest have
The clere sone banysht, as thou dost crave:930
Then were we launders marde and unto the
Thyne owne request were smale commodyte.
For of these twayne I thynke yt farre better
Thy face were sone-burned, and thy clothis the swetter,[198]
Then that the sonne from shynynge sholde be smytten,935
To kepe thy face fayre and thy smocke beshytten.
Syr, howe lycke ye my reason in her case?
Mery-reporte.Such a raylynge hore, by the holy mas,I never herde, in all my lyfe, tyll now.In dede I love ryght well the ton of you,940But, or I wolde kepe you both, by goddes mother,The devyll shall have the tone to fet[199]the tother.
Mery-reporte.Such a raylynge hore, by the holy mas,
I never herde, in all my lyfe, tyll now.
In dede I love ryght well the ton of you,940
But, or I wolde kepe you both, by goddes mother,
The devyll shall have the tone to fet[199]the tother.
Launder.Promyse me to speke that the sone may shyne bryght,And I wyll be gone quyckly for all nyght.
Launder.Promyse me to speke that the sone may shyne bryght,
And I wyll be gone quyckly for all nyght.
Mery-reporte.Get you both hens, I pray you hartely;945Your sewtes I perceyve and wyll reporte them trewlyUnto Jupyter, at the next leysure,And in the same desyre, to know his pleasure;Whyche knowledge hadde, even as he doth show yt,Feare ye not, tyme enough, ye shall know it.950
Mery-reporte.Get you both hens, I pray you hartely;945
Your sewtes I perceyve and wyll reporte them trewly
Unto Jupyter, at the next leysure,
And in the same desyre, to know his pleasure;
Whyche knowledge hadde, even as he doth show yt,
Feare ye not, tyme enough, ye shall know it.950
Gentylwoman.Syr, yf ye medyll, remember me fyrste.
Gentylwoman.Syr, yf ye medyll, remember me fyrste.
Launder.Then in this medlynge my parte shal be the wurst.
Launder.Then in this medlynge my parte shal be the wurst.
Mery-reporte.Now, I beseche our lorde, the devyll the[200]burst.Who medlyth wyth many I hold hym accurst,Thou hore, can I medyl wyth you both at ones.955
Mery-reporte.Now, I beseche our lorde, the devyll the[200]burst.
Who medlyth wyth many I hold hym accurst,
Thou hore, can I medyl wyth you both at ones.955
Here theGentylwomangoth forth.