hirt to my back,
or my hose to my heel. O Master Parson Shorthose, Grim is but a man as
another man is: colliers have but lives, as other men have. All is gone
if she go from me: Grim is nobody without her. My heart is in my mouth;
my mouth is in my hand; my hand threatens vengeance against the miller,
as it were a beadle with a whip in his hand, triumphing o'er a beggar's
back!

SHO. Be silent, Grim; stand close, and see;
So shall we know how all things be.

GRIM. In wisdom I am appeased; but in anger I broil, as it were a rasher
upon the coals.

JOAN. I'll not despise the trades ye either have;
Yet Grim the collier may, if he be wise,
Live even as merry as the day is long;
For, in my judgment, in his mean estate
Consists as much content as in more wealth.

GRIM. O Master Parson, write down this sweet saying of her in Grim's
commendations. She hath made my heart leap like a hobby-horse! O Joan,
this speech of thine will I carry with me even to my grave.

SHO. Be silent, then.

CLACK. Well, then, I perceive you mean to lead your life in a coalpit,
like one of the devil's drudges, and have your face look like the
outward side of an old iron pot or a blacking-box.

GRIM. He calleth my trade into question, I cannot forbear him.

SHO. Nay, then you spoil all: neighbour Grim,
I warrant you, she will answer him.

JOAN. What I intend, I am not bound to show
To thee, nor any other but my mother,
To whom in duty I submit myself:
Yet this I tell thee, though my birth be mean,
My honest virtuous life shall help to mend it;
And if I marry any in all this life,
He shall say boldly he hath an honest wife.

GRIM. O, that it were my fortune to light upon her, on condition my
horses were dead, and my cart broken, and I bound to carry coals, as
long as I live, from Croydon to London on my bare shoulders! Master
Parson, the flesh is frail, he shall tempt her no longer. She is but
weak, and he is the stronger. I'll upon him. Miller, thou art my
neighbour, and therein charity holds my hands; but methinks you, having
a water-gap of your own, you may do as other millers do, grind your
grist at home, knock your cogs into your own mill; you shall not cog
with her.

She doth descry thee;
And I defy thee
To a mortal fight;
And so, miller, good night.
And now, sweet Joan,
Be it openly known
Thou art my own.

CLACK. Well, Grim, since thou art so collier-like choleric--

GRIM. Miller, I will not