“Lords and others,” said the English knight with great solemnity, “make way for the Lady of Piercie Shafton—a secret which I listed not to make known, till fate, which hath betrayed what I vainly strove to conceal, makes me less desirous to hide that which I now announce to you.”
“It is Mysie Happer, the Miller’s daughter, on my life!” said Tibb Tacket. “I thought the pride of these Piercies would have a fa’.”
“It is indeed the lovely Mysinda,” said the knight, “whose merits towards her devoted servant deserved higher rank than he had to bestow.”
“I suspect, though,” said Murray, “that we should not have heard of the Miller’s daughter being made a lady, had not the knight proved to be the grandson of a tailor.”
“My lord,” said Piercie Shafton, “it is poor valour to strike him that cann
