Enter Joe.
Mil. Come, Joe, drink Boy; I have promised this Gentleman that you shall sing him your last new Song.
Joe. Well, Master, if you have promis'd it him, he shall have it.
SONG.
I.
How happy a State does the Miller possess?
Who wou'd be no greater, nor fears to be less;
On his Mill and himself he depends for Support,
Which is better than servilely cringing at Court.
II.