Alas, gentleman, why should you trouble yourself so much, 1148considering the imperfections of my daughter, 1149 which is able to withdraw the love of any man from her, 1150as already it hath done in her first choice. 1151 Master Manville hath forsaken her, 1152 and at [Westchester] shall be married to a manʼs daughter of no little wealth. 1153But if my daughter knew so much, 1154it would go very near her heart, I fear me.

1155Father Miller, such is my entire affection to your daughter 1156as no misfortune whatsoever can alter. 1157My fellow, Mountney, thou seeʼst gave quickly over, 1158but I, by reason of my good meaning, 1159am not so soon to be changed, 1160although I am borne off with scorns and denial.

Trust me, sir, I know not what to say. 1163My daughter is not to be compelled by me. 1164But here she comes herself; speak to her and spare not, 1165for I never was troubled with love matters so much before.

[Aside] Good lord, shall I never be rid of this importunate man? 1167Now must I dissemble blindness again. 1168Once more for thy sake, Manville, thus I am enforced, 1169because I shall complete my full-resolved mind to thee. 1170– Father, where are you?

Here, sweet Em. Answer this gentleman 1172that would so fain enjoy thy love.

Where are you, sir? Will you never leave 1174this idle and vain pursuit of love? 1175Is not England stored enough to content you, 1176but you must still trouble the poor 1177contemptible maid of Manchester?

None can content me but the fair maid of Manchester.

I perceive love is vainly described, 1180that being blind himself 1181would have you likewise troubled with a blind wife, 1182having the benefit of your eyes, 1183but neither follow him so much in folly, 1184but love one in whom you may better delight.

1185Father Miller, thy daughter shall have honour 1186by granting me her love. 1187I am a gentleman of King Williamʼs court, 1188and no mean man in King Williamʼs favour.

If you be a lord, sir, as you say, 1190you offer both yourself and me great wrong: 1191yours, as apparent in limiting your love to unorderly, 1192for which you rashly endure reproachment; 1193mine, as open and evident, 1194when being shut from the vanities of this world, 1195you would have me as an open gazing-stock to all the world. 1196For lust, not love, leads you into this error. 1197But from the one I will keep me as well as I can, 1198and yield the other to none but my father, 1199as I am bound by duty.

1200Why, fair Em, Manville hath forsaken thee, 1201and must at [Westchester] be married, which, 1202if I speak otherwise than true, 1203let thy father speak what credibly he hath heard.

But can it be Manville will deal so unkindly 1205to reward my justice with such monstrous ungentleness? 1206Have I dissembled for thy sake, 1207and dost thou now thus requite it? 1208Indeed, these many days I have not seen him, 1209which hath made me marvel at his long absence. 1210But, father, are you assured if the words he spake 1211were concerning Manville?

In sooth, daughter, now it is forth 1213I must needs confirm it. 1214Master Manville hath forsaken thee, 1215and at [Westchester] must be married 1216to a manʼs daughter of no little wealth. 1217His own father procures it, 1218and therefore I dare credit it 1219and do thou believe it, 1220for trust me, daughter, it is so.

Then, good father, pardon the injury 1222that I have done to you, only causing your grief, 1223by over-fond affecting a man so truthless. 1224And you likewise, sir, I pray hold me excused, 1225as I hope this cause will allow sufficiently for me. 1226My love to Manville, thinking he would requite it, 1227hath made me double with my father and you, 1228and many more besides, 1229which I will no longer hide from you. 1230That enticing speeches should not beguile me, 1231I have made myself deaf to any but to him, 1232and lest any manʼs person should please me more than his, 1233I have dissembled the want of my sight, 1234both which shadows of my irrevocable affections 1235I have not spared to confirm before him, 1236my father, and all other amorous solicitors. 1237Wherewith not made acquainted, I perceive 1238my true intent hath wrought mine own sorrow, 1239and seeking by love to be regarded 1240am cut off with contempt and despised.

Tell me, sweet Em, hast thou but feigned all this while for his love, 1242that hath so discourteously forsaken thee?

Credit me, father, I have told you the truth, 1244wherewith I desire you and Lord Valingford not to be displeased. 1245For ought else I shall say, 1246let my present grief hold me excused. 1247But, may I live to see that ungrateful man 1248justly rewarded for his treachery, 1249poor Em would think herself not a little happy. 1250Favour my departing at this instant, 1251for my troubled thought desires to meditate alone in silence.

Will not Em show one cheerful look on Valingford?

Alas, sir, blame her not. You see she hath good cause, 1255being so handled by this gentleman. 1256And so Iʼll leave you, and go comfort my poor wench 1257as well as I may.

Farewell, good father.