_Mery-reporte._ Stop, folysh knaves, for your reasonynge is suche, That ye have resoned even ynough and to much. I hard all the wordes that ye both have hadde, So helpe me god, the knaves be more then madde! Nother of them both that hath wyt nor grace, 715 To perceyve that both myllys may serve in place. Betwene water and wynde there is no suche let, But eche myll may have tyme to use his fet. Whyche thynge I can tell by experyens; For I have, of myne owne, not farre from hens, 720 In a corner to-gether a couple of myllys, Standynge in a marres[179] betweene two hyllys, Not of inherytaunce, but by my wyfe; She is feofed in the tayle for terme of her lyfe, The one for wynde, the other for water. 725 And of them both, I thanke god, there standeth[180] nother; For, in a good hour be yt spoken, The water gate is no soner open, But clap, sayth the wyndmyll, even strayght behynde! There is good spedde, the devyll and all they grynde! 730 But whether that the hopper be dusty, Or that the mylstonys be sumwhat rusty, By the mas, the meale is myschevous musty! And yf ye thynke my tale be not trusty, C iii _b_ I make ye trew promyse: come, when ye lyste, 735 We shall fynde meane ye shall taste of the gryst. _Water Myller._ The corne at receyte happely is not good. _Mery-reporte._ There can be no sweeter, by the sweet roode! Another thynge yet, whyche shall not be cloked, My watermyll many tymes is choked. 740 _Water Myller._ So wyll she be, though ye shuld burste your bones, Except ye be perfyt in settynge your stones. Fere not the lydger,[181] beware your ronner. Yet this for the lydger, or ye have wonne her, Parchaunce your lydger doth lacke good peckyng. 745 _Mery-reporte._ So sayth my wyfe, & that maketh all our checkyng.[182] She wolde have the myll peckt, peckt, peckt, every day! But, by god, myllers muste pecke when they may! So oft have we peckt that our stones wax right thynne, And all our other gere not worth a pyn, 750 For with peckynge and peckyng I have so wrought, That I have peckt a good peckynge-yron to nought. How be yt, yf I stycke no better tyll her, My wyfe sayth she wyll have a new myller. But let yt passe! and now to our mater! 755 I say my myllys lacke nother wynde nor water; No more do yours, as farre as nede doth requyre. But, syns ye can not agree, I wyll desyre Jupyter to set you both in suche rest As to your welth and his honour may stande best. 760 _Water Myller._ I praye you hertely remember me.