uch,) have soe stript and opprest them,
they cannot make theire House tenantable; nor have Aught to feede on, had
they e'en a whole Roof over theire Heads. The Neighbourhoode is too hot
to holde them; olde Friends cowardlie and suspicious, olde and new Foes
in League together. Leave _Oxon_ they must; but where to goe? _Father_,
despite his broken Health and Hatred of the Foreigner, must needes depart
beyond Seas; at leaste within the six Months; but how, with an emptie
Purse, make his Way in a strange Land, with a Wife and seven Children at
his Heels? Soe ends _Mother_ with a "_Lord_ have Mercy upon us!" as
though her House were as surelie doomed to destruction as if it helde the
Plague.

Mine Eyes were yet swollen with Tears, when my Husband stept in. He
askt, "What ails you, precious Wife?" I coulde but sigh, and give him
the Letter. Having read the Same, he says, "But what, my dearest? Have
we not ample Room here for them alle? I speak as to Generalls, you must
care for Particulars, and stow them as you will. There are plenty of
small Rooms for the Boys; but, if your Father, being infirm, needes a
Ground-floor Chamber, you and I will mount aloft."

I coulde but look my Thankfullenesse and kiss his Hand. "Nay," he added,
with increasing Gentlenesse, "think not I have seene your Cares for my
owne Father without loving and blessing you. Let Mr. _Powell_ come and
see us happie; it may tend to make him soe. Let him and his abide with
us, at the leaste, till the Spring; his Lads will studdy and play with
mine, your Mother will help you in your Housewiferie, the two olde Men
will chirp together beside the _Christmasse_ Hearth; and, if I find thy
Weeklie Bills the heavier 'twill be but to write another Book, and make a
better Bargain for it than I did for the last. We will use Hospitalitie
without grudging; and, as for your owne Increase of Cares, I suppose
'twill be but to order two Legs of Mutton insteade of one!"

And soe, with a Laugh, left me, most joyfulle, happy Wife! to drawe
Sweete out of Sowre, Delighte out of Sorrowe; and to summon mine owne
Kindred aboute me, and wipe away theire Tears, bid them eat, drink, and
be merry, and shew myselfe to them, how proud, how cherished a Wife!

Surelie my Mother wille learne to love _John Milton_ at last! If she
doth not, this will be my secret Crosse, for 'tis hard to love dearlie
two Persons who esteeme not one another. But she will, she must, not
onlie res