Anellus, sendes his corne unto the mill,
Which beinge grounde, he tri'de it by the waighte:
And finding not the measure, to his will,
Hee studied longe, to learne, the millers sleighte:
For noe complaintes, coulde make him leave to steale,
Or fill the sacke, with fustie mixed meale.
Wherefore, to mill he sente his dearest wife,
That nighte, and daie, shee mighte the grindinge viewe:
Where shee, (kinde harte,) to ende al former strife,
Did dubbe her Spouse, one of VULCANUS crewe:
Oh greedie foole Anellus, of thy graine,
And of thy wife, too prodigall, and plaine.