LADY. And I got it. I woke Sir Henry--and he's true to you I read his honest horror in his eyes. ELIZABETH. Or true to you? LADY. Sir Henry Bedingfield! I will have no man true to me, your Grace, But one that pares his nails; to me? the clown! ELIZABETH. Out, girl! you wrong a noble gentleman. LADY. For, like his cloak, his manners want the nap And gloss of court; but of this fire he says. Nay swears, it was no wicked wilfulness, Only a natural chance. ELIZABETH. A chance--perchance One of those wicked wilfuls that men make, Nor shame to call it nature. Nay, I know They hunt my blood. Save for my daily range Among the pleasant fields of Holy Writ I might despair. But there hath some one come; The house is all in movement. Hence, and see. [_Exit_ LADY. MILKMAID (_singing without_). Shame upon you, Robin, Shame upon you now! Kiss me would you? with my hands Milking the cow? Daisies grow again, Kingcups blow again, And you came and kiss'd me milking the cow. Robin came behind me, Kiss'd me well I vow; Cuff him could I? with my hands Milking the cow? Swallows fly again, Cuckoos cry again, And you came and kiss'd me milking the cow. Come, Robin, Robin, Come and kiss me now; Help it can I? with my hands Milking the cow? Ringdoves coo again, All things woo again. Come behind and kiss me milking the cow!