_Mar._ Ah, father, when the harmony of heaven Soundeth the measures of a lively faith, The vain illusions of this flattering world Seem odious to the thoughts of Margaret. I lovèd once,--Lord Lacy was my love; And now I hate myself for that I lov'd, And doted more on him than on my God: For this I scourge myself with sharp repents. But now the touch of such aspiring sins Tells me all love is lust but love of heavens; That beauty us'd for love is vanity: The world contains naught but alluring baits, Pride, flattery, and inconstant thoughts. To shun the pricks of death, I leave the world, And vow to meditate on heavenly bliss, To live in Framlingham a holy nun, Holy and pure in conscience and in deed; And for to wish all maids to learn of me To seek heaven's joy before earth's vanity. _Friend._ And will you then, Margaret, be shorn a nun, and so leave us all? _Mar._ Now farewell, world, the engine of all woe! Farewell to friends and father! welcome Christ! Adieu to dainty robes! this base attire Better befits an humble mind to God Than all the show of rich habiliments. Farewell, O love, and, with fond love, farewell Sweet Lacy, whom I lovèd once so dear! Ever be well, but never in my thoughts, Lest I offend to think on Lacy's love: But even to that, as to the rest, farewell! _Enter_ LACY, WARREN _and_ ERMSBY, _booted and spurred._ _Lacy._ Come on, my wags, we're near the Keeper's lodge. Here have I oft walk'd in the watery meads, And chatted with my lovely Margaret. _War._ Sirrah Ned, is not this the Keeper? _Lacy._ 'Tis the same. _Erms._ The old lecher hath gotten holy mutton[233] to him; a nun, my lord. _Lacy._ Keeper, how far'st thou? holla, man, what cheer? How doth Peggy, thy daughter and my love? _Keeper._ Ah, good my lord! O, woe is me for Peggy! See where she stands clad in her nun's attire, Ready for to be shorn in Framlingham: She leaves the world because she left your love. O, good my lord, persuade her if you can! _Lacy._ Why, how now, Margaret! what, a malcontent? A nun? what holy father taught you this, To task yourself to such a tedious life As die a maid? 'twere injury to me To smother up such beauty in a cell. _Mar._ Lord Lacy, thinking of my former miss, How fond the prime of wanton years were spent In love (O, fie upon that fond conceit, Whose hap and essence hangeth in the eye!), I leave both love and love's content at once, Betaking me to him that is true love, And leaving all the world for love of him. _Lacy._ Whence, Peggy, comes this metamorphosis? What, shorn a nun, and I have from the court Posted with coursers to convey thee hence To Windsor, where our marriage shall be kept! Thy wedding robes are in the tailor's hands. Come, Peggy, leave these peremptory vows.