MILLICENT

I, whispering, pray God it tend my good, Strange fear assails my heart, usurps my blood. Oh God, what means my father? Treason to my hearts truest sovereign, How soon is love smothered in foggy gain? Oh me accursed! I'll first be buried quick. I'll sooner be a sinner in forsaking Mother and father. You will subscribe to it, good, good, 'tis well, Love hath two chairs of state, heaven and hell: My deer Mounchensey, thou my death shalt rue, Ere to thy heart Milliscent prove untrue. I am not sweet, Passion is strong, when woe with woe does meet. While you desire his grief, my heart shall bleed. And I must take a twelve months approbation, That in mean time this sole and private life, At the years end may fashion me a wife: But sweet Mounchensey ere this year be done, Thou'st be a friar if that I be a Nun; And father ere young Ierninghams I'll be, I will turn mad to spite both him and thee. Alas sweet Love what shall become of me? I must to Chesson to the Nunry, I shall never see thee more. Dear sweet. No joy enjoys my heart till we next meet. Good men and true, stand together and hear your charge. This goes hard berladye. Worse and worse by Saint Marry. The holy maid will be no Nun. Madam it is the order of this place, When any virgin comes for approbation, Lest that for fear or such sinister practice, She should be forced to undergo this veil, Which should proceed from conscience and devotion: A visitor is sent from Uvaltham house, To take the true confession of the maid. What means the Friar? My heart misgives me, I should know that voice, You, who are you? The holy virgin bless me, Tell me your name, you shall ere you confess me. My Raimond, my deer heart, Sweet life give leave to my distracted soul, To wake a little from this swoon of joy, By what means camest thou to assume this shape? You are all sweet traitors to my poor old father, Oh my deer life, I was a dreamt to night, That as I was a praying in mine Psalter, There came a spirit unto me as I kneeled, And by his strong persuasions tempted me To leave this Nunry; and me thought, He came in the most glorious Angel shape, That mortal eye did ever look upon: Would, thou art sure that spirit, for theres no form, Is in mine eye so glorious as thine own. Well visitor, lest that perhaps my mother Should think the Friar too st ickt in his decrees, I this confess to my sweet ghostly father, If chased pure love be sin I must confess, I have offended three years now with thee. I'faith I cannot. Sweet life farewell; 'tis done, let that suffice, What my tongue fails I send thee by mine eyes. Sir, very well, I would to God we were at Brians lodge. Brother and friend, alas what shall we do? Brother Frank Jerningham, brother Clare. I, it is I sir. My brother Sir, and M. Jerningham, who hearing folks about us in the Chase, feared it had been sir Arthur and my father, who had pursued us, thus dispersed our selves till they were passed us. They be not far off, here about the grove. I brother, here. Alas, what shall we do? What noise was that? 'tis the watch, sure that villam nous unlucky rogue Smug is taine upon my life, and then all our villainy comes out, I herd one cry sure. With pardon sir, at name is quite undone, This truelove knot cancelles both maid and Nun. When first you told me I should act that partly, How cold and bloody it crept over my heart! To Chesson with a smiling brow I went, But yet, deer sir, it was to this intent, That my sweet Raimond might find better means, To steal me thence: in brief disguised he came, Like Novice to old father Hildersham. His tutor here did act that cunning partly, And in our love hath joined much wit to art. With pardon therefore we entreat your smiles, Love thwarted turns itself to thousand wiles. 'Tis well; Wheres Raimond brother? wheres my deer Mounchensey? Would we might weep together and then partly, Our sighing parley would much ease my heart. Alas sir, think you I shall ere be his? Oh Lord, hold your hands, I mean no harm sir. I am a maid sir, who? M. Brian? By the Lord there are some watchmen; I hear them name Master Constable, I would to God my Mill were and Eunuch and wanted her stones, so I were hence. 'Tis the Constable by this light, I'll steal hence, and if I can meet mine host Blague, isle tell him how Smug is taine, and will him to look to him self.