THE LAMENTABLE AND TRUE tragedy OF M. ARDEN OF FEVERSHAM IN KENT. Who was most wickedly murdered, by the means of his disloyal and wanton wife, who for the love she bore to one mosby, hired two desperate ruffians Blackwill and Shakbag, to kill him. Wherein is showed the great malice and dissimulation of a wicked woman, the unsatiable desire of filthy lust and the shameful end of all murderers.  
Imprinted at London for Edward White, dwelling at the little North door of Paul's Church at the sign of the Gun, 1592.   

The Tragedy of M. Arden of Feveshame.  (Enter Arden, and Franklin) Franklin 
ARden cheer up thy spirits and droop no more  
My gracious Lord the Duke of Somerset;  
Hath freely given to thee and to thy heirs,  
By letters patents from his Majesty:  
All the lands of the Abbey of Feversham.  
here are the deeds sealed & subscribed with his name and the kings,  
Read them, and leave this melancholy mood  Arden. 
Franklin thy love prolongs my weary life,  
And but for thee, how odious were this life:  
That shows me nothing but torments my soul,  
And those foul objects that offend mine eyes,  
Which makes me wish that for this vale of Heaven,  
The earth hung over my heed and covered me.  
love letters passed twixt mosby and my Wife,  
And they have privy meetings in the Town:  
Nay on his finger did I spy the Ring,  
Which at our Marriage day the Priest put on,  
Can any grief be half so great as this?  Fran. 
Comfort thyself sweet friend it is not strange,  
That women will be false and wavering.  Arden. 
ay but to dote on such a one as he  
Is monstrous Franklin, and intolerable.  Franklin. 
Why, what is he?  Arden. 
A Botcher and no better at the first,  
Who by base brokage, getting some small stock:  
Crept into service of a noble man:  
And by his servile flattery and fawning,  
Is now become the steward of his house,  
And bravely jets it in his silken gown.  Fran. 
No noble man will countenance such a peasant,  Arden. 
Yes, the Lord Clifford, he that loves not me,  
But through his favour let not him grow proud,  
For were he by the Lord Protector backed,  
He should not make me to be pointed at,  
I am by birth a gentleman of blood,  
And that injurious ribald that attempts,  
To violate my dear wives chastity,  
(For dear I hold her love, as dear as heaven)  
Shall on the bed which he thinks to defile,  
See his dissevered joints and sinews torn,  
Whilst on the planchers, pants his weary body,  
smeared in the channels of his lustful blood.  Fran. 
Be patient gentle friend and learn of me,  
To ease thy grief, and save her chastity:  
Entreat her fair sweet words are fittest engines  
To raze the flint walls of a woman's breast:  
In any case be not too Jealous,  
Nor make no question of her love to thee,  
But as securely, presently take horse,  
And lie with me at London all this term  
For women when they may, will not,  
But being kept back, straight grow outrageous.  Arden. 
Though this abhors from reason yet i'll try it  
And call her forth, and presently take leave: How Alice,  Here enters ales. Ales. 
Husband what mean you to get up so early.  
Summer nights are short, and yet you rise ere day,  
Had I been wake you had not rise so soon,  Ard. 
Sweet love thou know'st that we two Ovid like  
Have often chid the morning, when it 'gan to peep,  
And often wished that dark nights purblind steeds,  
Would pull her by the purple mantle back:  
And cast her in the Ocean to her love.  
But this night sweet Alice thou hast killed my heart,  
I heard thee call on mosby in thy sleep.  Ales. 
'tis like I was asleep when I named him,  
For being awake he comes not in my thoughts:  Arden. 
ay but you started up, and suddenly  
In steed of him: caught me about the neck.  Ales. 
In steed of him? why, who was there but you,  
And where but one is, how can I mistake.  Fran. 
Arden leave to urge her over far.  Arden. 
Nay love there is no credit in a dream,  
Let it suffice I know thou lovest me well.  Ales. 
Now I remember where upon it came,  
Had we no talk of mosby yesternight.  Fra. 
Mistress Alice I heard you name him once or twice,  Ales. 
And thereof came it, and therefore blame not me  Arden. 
I know it did, and therefore let it pass,  
I must to London sweet Alice presently.  Ales. 
But tell me do you mean to stay there long?  Arden. 
No longer there till my affairs be done,  Fran. 
He will not stay above a month at most.  Ales. 
A month ay me, sweet Arden come again  
Within a day or two, or else I die.  Arden. 
I cannot long be from thee gentle Alice,  
Whilst, Michel fetch our horses from the field,  
Franklin and I will down unto the key:  
For I have certain goods there to unload,  
Meanwhile prepare our breakfast gentle Alice,  
For yet ere noon we'll take horse and away,  Exeunt Arden, & Franklin. Ales. 
Ere noon he means to take horse and away:  
Sweet news is this, Oh that some airy spirit,  
Would in the shape and likeness of a horse  
Gallop with Arden cross the Ocean,  
And throw him from his back into the waves.  
Sweet mosby is the man that hath my heart:  
And he usurps it, having nought but this,  
That I am tied to him by marriage.  
Love is a God and marriage is but words,  
And therefore Mosby's title is the best,  
Tush whether it be or no, he shall be mine,  
In spite of him, of Hymen and of rites. Here enters Adam of the flower-de-luce.  
And here comes Adam of the flower-de-luce,  
I hope he brings me tidings of my love.  
How now Adam, what is the news with you?  
Be not afraid my husband is now from home.  Adam. 
He whom you wot of mosby Mistress Alice,  
Is come to town, and sends you word by me,  
In any case you may not visit him.  Ales. 
Not visit him?  Adam. 
No nor take no knowledge of his being here  Ales. 
But tell me is he angry or displeased.  Adam. 
Should seem so for he is wondrous sad.  Ales. 
Were he as mad as raving Hercules,  
I'll see him, I and were thy house of force.  
These hands of mine should raze it to the ground:  
Whiles that thou will't bring me to my love.  Adam. 
Nay and you be so impatient I'll be gone  Ales. 
Stay Adam, stay, thou wert wont to be my friend  
Ask mosby how I have incurred his wrath,  
Bear him from me these pair of silver dice:  
With which we played for kisses many a time,  
And when I lost, I won, and so did he:  
Such winning and such losing, Jove send me,  
And bid him if his love do not decline,  
Come this morning but along my door:  
And as a stranger, but salute me there,  
This may he do without suspect or fear.  Adam. 
I'll tell him what you say, and so farewell.  Exit Adam. Ales. 
do, and one day I'll make amends for all:  
I know he loves me well, but dares not come,  
Because my husband is so jealous:  
And these my marrow prying neighbours blab,  
Hinder our meetings when we would confer.  
But if I live that block shall be removed,  
And mosby, thou that comes to me by stealth  
shalt neither fear the biting speech of men,  
Nor Arden's looks, as surely shall he die,  
as I abhor him, and love only thee. Here enters Michael.  
Now now Michael, whether are you going?  Michael. 
To fetch my master's nag,  
I hope you'll think on me.  Ales. 
I But Michael see you keep your oath,  
And be as secret, as you are resolute.  Michael. 
I'll see he shall not live above a week.  Ales. 
On that condition Michael here is my hand  
None shall have Mosby's sister but thyself.  Michael. 
I understand the Painter here hard by,  
Hath made report that he and Sue is sure.  Ales. 
There's no such matter Michael believe it not,  Michael. 
But he hath sent a dagger sticking in a heart,  
With a verse or two stolen from a painted cloth:  
The which I hear the wench keeps in her chest,  
Well let her keep it, I shall find a fellow  
That can both write and read, and make rhyme too,  
And if I do, well, I say no more:  
I'll send from London such a taunting letter,  
As shall eat the heart he sent with salt,  
And sling the dagger at the painter's head.  Ales. 
What needs all this, I say that Susan's thine  Michael. 
Why then I say that I will kill my master  
Or any thing that you will have me do.  Ales. 
But Michael see you do it cunningly.  Michael. 
Why, say I should be took, i'll near confess,  
That you know any thing, and Susan being a Maid,  
May beg me from the gallows of the sheriff.  Ales. 
Trust not to that Michael.  Michael. 
You can not tell me, I have seen it I,  
But mistress tell her whether I live or die.  
I'll make her more worth than twenty Painters can,  
For I will rid mine elder brother away:  
And then the farm of Bolton is mine own.  
Who would not venture upon house and land?  
When he may have it for a right down blow.  Here enters mosby. Ales. 
Yonder comes mosby, Michael get thee gone,  
And let not him nor any know thy drifts. Exit Michael.  
mosby my love,  mosby, 
Away I say, and talk not to me now.  Ales. 
A word or two sweet heart, and then I will,  
'tis yet but early days, thou needest not fear.  mosby. 
Where is your husband?  Ales. 
'tis now high water, and he is at the key.  Mos. 
There let him be, hence forward know me not.  Ales. 
Is this the end of all thy solemn oaths?  
Is this the fruit thy reconcilement buds?  
Have I for this given thee so many favours.  
incurred my husband's hate, and out alas,  
Made shipwreck of mine honour for thy sake,  
And dost thou say hence forward know me not?  
Remember when I locked thee in my closet,  
What were thy words and mine, did we not both  
Decree, to murder Arden in the night.  
The heavens can witness, and the world can tell,  
Before I saw that falsehood look of thine,  
'fore I was tangled with thy 'ticing speech.  
Arden to me was dearer than my soul,  
And shall be still, base peasant get thee gone.  
And boast not of thy conquest over me,  
Gotten by witchcraft, and mere sorcery.  
For what hast thou to countenance my love,  
being descended of a noble house,  
And matched already with a gentleman,  
Whose servant thou mayst be, and so farewell.  Mos. 
Ungentle and unkind Alice, now I see  
That which I ever feared, and find too true:  
A woman's love is as the lightning flame,  
Which even in bursting forth consumes itself,  
To try thy constancy have I been strange,  
Would I had never tried, but lived in hope.  Ales. 
What needs thou try me, whom thou never found false  Mos. 
Yet pardon me for love is jealous,  Ales. 
So list the sailor to the mermaid's song,  
So looks the traveller to the Basilisk,  
I am content for to be reconciled,  
And that I know will be mine overthrow.  Mos. 
Thine overthrow? first let the world dissolve,  Ales. 
Nay mosby let me still enjoy thy love,  
And happen what will, I am resolute,  
My saving husband hoards up bags of gold,  
To make our children rich, and now is he  
Gone to unload the goods that shall be thine,  
And he and Franklin will to London straight.  Mos. 
To London Alice, if thou'lt be ruled by me,  
we'll make him sure enough for coming there.  Ales. 
Ah, would we could.  Mos. 
I happened on a Painter yesternight,  
The only cunning man of Christendom:  
For he can temper poison with his oil,  
That who so looks upon the work he draws,  
Shall with the beams that issue from his sight,  
Suck venom to his breast and slay himself,  
Sweet Alice he shall draw thy counterfeit,  
That Arden may by gazing on it perish  Ales. 
ay but mosby that is dangerous,  
For thou or I, or any other else,  
Coming into the Chamber where it hangs, may die.  Mos. 
ay but we'll have it covered with a cloth,  
And hung up in the study for himself.  Ales. 
It may not be, for when the picture's drawn,  
Arden I know will come and show it me.  Mos. 
Fear not we'll have that shall serve the turn,  
This is the painter's house I'll call him forth,  Ales. 
But mosby I'll have no such picture I:  Mos. 
I pray thee leave it to my discretion. Now, clerk Here enters clerk.  
O you are an honest man of your word, you served me well,  Clark. 
Why sir i'll do it for you at any time,  
Provided as you have given your word,  
I may have Susan mosby to my wife:  
For as sharp witted Poets, whose sweet verse  
Make heavenly gods break of their nectar draughts,  
And lay their ears down to the lowly earth:  
Use humble promise to their sacred Muse,  
So we that are the poet's favourite,  
Must have a love, ay, Love is the painter's Muse.  
That makes him frame a speaking countenance.  
A weeping eye that witnesses hearts grief,  
Then tell me Master mosby shall I have her?  Ales. 
'tis pity but he should, he'll use her well.  mosby 
Clarke here's my hand my sister shall be thine,  Cla. 
Then brother to requite this courtesy,  
You shall command my life my skill and all.  Ales. 
Ah that thou couldst be secret,  mosby. 
Fear him not, leave, I have talked sufficient,  Cla. 
You know not me, that ask such questions:  
Let it suffice, I know you love him well,  
And fain would have your husband made away:  
Wherein trust me you show a noble mind,  
That rather than you'll live with him you hate,  
You'll venture life, and die with him you love,  
The like will I do for my Susan's sake.  Ales. 
Yet nothing could enforce me to the deed,  
But Mosby's love, might I without control,  
Enjoy thee still, than Arden should not die:  
But seeing I cannot, therefore let him die.  Mos. 
Enough sweet Alice, thy kind words makes me melt,  
Your trick of poisoned pictures we dislike,  
Some other poison would do better far.  Ales. 
I such as might be put into his broth,  
And, yet in taste not to be found at all,  clerk. 
I know your mind, and here I have it for you,  
Put but a dram of this into his drink,  
Or any kind of broth that he shall eat:  
And he shall die within an hour after.  Ales. 
As I am a gentle woman clerk, next day  
Thou and Susan shall be married.  Mos. 
And i'll make her dowry more than i'll talk of Clark,  clerk. 
Yonder's your husband, mosby i'll be gone.  Here enters Arden and Franklin. Ales. 
In good time, see where my husband comes,  
Master mosby ask him the question yourself.  Exit clerk. Mos. 
Master Arden, being at London yesternight,  
The Abbey lands whereof you are now possessed,  
Were offered me on some occasion,  
By Green one of sir Antony Ager's men:  
I pray you sir tell me, are not the lands yours?  
Hath any other interest herein?  Arden. 
Mosby that question we'll decide anon,  
Alice make ready my breakfast, I must hence. Exit Ales..  
As for the lands mosby they are mine,  
By letters patents from his Majesty:  
But I must have a mandate for my wife,  
They say you seek to rob me of her love,  
Villain what makes thou in her company,  
she's no companion for so base a groom.  mosby 
Arden I thought not on her, I came to thee,  
But rather than I pocket up this wrong.  Franklin. 
What will you do sir?  Mos. 
Revenge it on the proudest of you both:  Then Arden draws forth Mosby's sword. Arden. 
So sirrah, you may not wear a sword,  
The statute makes against artificers,  
I warrant that I do, now use your bodkin,  
Your spanish needle, and your pressing Iron,  
For this shall go with me, and mark my words,  
You goodman bu=otcher, 'tis to you I speak,  
The next time that I take thee near my house,  
In steed of Legs I'll make thee crawl on stumps.  Mos. 
Ah master Arden you have injured me,  
I do appeal to God, and to the world.  Fran. 
Why canst thou deny, thou wert a butcher once,  Mos. 
Measure me what I am, not what I was.  Ar. 
Why what art thou now, but a Velvet drudge,  
A cheating steward, and base minded peasant.  Mos. 
Arden now thou hast belched and vomited,  
The rancorous venom of thy mis-swollen heart,  
Hear me but speak, as I intend to live  
With God, and his elected saints in heaven,  
I never meant more to solicit her,  
And that she knows, and all the world shall see,  
I loved her once, sweet Arden pardon me.  
I could not choose, her beauty fired my heart,  
But time hath quenched these overraging coals,  
And Arden though I now frequent thy house,  
'tis for my sister's sake, her waiting maid  
And not for hers, mayest thou enjoy her long:  
Hell fire and wrathful vengeance light on me,  
If I dishonour her or injure thee.  Ard. 
mosby with these thy protestations,  
The deadly hatred of my heart is appealed,  
And thou and I'll be friends, if this prove true.  
As for the base terms I gave thee late,  
Forget them mosby, I had cause to speak:  
When all the Knights and gentlemen of Kent,  
Make common table talk of her and thee.  Mos. 
Who lives that is not touched with slanderous tongues,  Fra. 
Then mosby, to eschew the speech of men,  
Upon whose general brute all honour hangs,  
Forbear his house.  Ard. 
Forbear it, nay rather frequent it more.  
The world shall see that I distrust her not,  
To warn him on the sudden from my house,  
Were too confirm the rumour that is grown.  Mos. 
By faith my sir you say true,  
And therefore will I sojourn here a while,  
Until our enemies have talked their fill.  
And then I hope they'll cease, and at last confess,  
How causeless they have injured her and me.  Ard. 
And I will lie at London all this term,  
To let them see how light I weigh their words.  Here enters Ales.. Ales. 
Husband sit down, your breakfast will be could,  Ard. 
Come M. mosby will you sit with us,  Mos. 
I can not eat, but i'll sit for company.  Ard. 
Sirrah Michael see our horse be ready.  Ales. 
Husband why pause ye, why eat you not,  Ard. 
I am not well, there's something in this broth  
That is not wholesome, didst thou make it Alice?  Ales. 
I did, and that's the cause it likes not you, Then she throws down the broth on the ground.  
there's nothing that I do can please your taste.  
You were best to say I would have poisoned you,  
I cannot speak or cast aside my eye:  
But he Imagines, I have stepped awry.  
Here's he that you cast in my teeth so oft,  
Now will I be convinced, or purge myself,  
I charge thee speak to this mistrustful man,  
Thou that wouldst see me hang, thou Mosbye thou,  
What favour hast thou had more than a kiss  
At coming or departing from the Town?  Mos. 
You wrong yourself and me, to cast these doubts  
Your loving husband is not jealous.  Ard. 
Why gentle mistress Alice, cannot I be ill,  
But you'll accuse yourself.  
Franklin thou hast a box of mithridate,  
I'll take a little to prevent the worst.  Fran. 
Do so, and let us presently take horse,  
My life for yours ye shall do well enough.  Ales. 
Give me a spoon, I'll eat of it myself,  
Would it were full of poison to the brim.  
Then should my cares and troubles have an end,  
Was ever silly woman so tormented?  Arden. 
Be patient sweet love, I mistrust not thee,  Ales. 
God will revenge it Arden if thou dost.  
For never woman loved her husband better, than I do thee,  Ard. 
I know it sweet Alice, cease to complain:  
lest that in fears I answer thee again.  Fran. 
Come leave this dallying, and let us away.  Ales. 
Forbear to wound me with that bitter word,  
Arden shall go to London in my arms.  Arden. 
Loath am I to depart, yet I must go,  Ales. 
Wilt thou to London then, and leave me here,  
Ah if thou love me gentle Arden stay,  
Yet if thy business be of great Import  
Go if thou wilt I'll bear it as I may.  
But write from London to me every week,  
Nay every day, and stay no longer there  
Then thou must needs, lest that I die for sorrow.  Arden. 
I'll write unto thee every other side,  
And so farewell sweet Alice till we meet next.  Ales. 
Farewell Husband seeing you'll have it so.  
And M, Franklin, seeing you take him hence,  
In hope you'll hasten him home I'll give you this  and then she kisseth him. Fran. 
And if he stay the fault shall not be mine,  
mosby farewell and see you keep your oath.  mosby 
I hope he is not jealous of me now.  Arden. 
No mosby no, hereafter think of me,  
As of your dearest friend, and so farewell.  Exeunt Arden, Franklin, & Michael. Ales. 
I am glad he is gone, he was about to stay.  
But did you mark me then how I broke off?  mosby. 
I Alice, and it was cunningly performed,  
But what a villain is this painter clerk?  Ales. 
Was it not a goodly poison that he gave?  
Why he's as well now, as he was before.  
It should have been some fine confection,  
That might have given the broth some dainty tasty,  
This powder was too gross and populos.  mosby 
But had he eaten but three spoonfuls more,  
Then had he died, and our love continued.  Ales. 
Why so it shall mosby, albeit he live,  mosby. 
It is unpossible, for I have sworn,  
Never hereafter to solicit thee,  
Or whilst he lives, once more importune thee.  Ales. 
Thou shalt not need I will importune thee.  
What shall an oath make thee forsake my love?  
As if I have not sworn as much myself,  
And given my hand unto him in the church,  
Tush mosby oaths are words, and words is wind,  
And wind is mutable: than I conclude,  
'tis childishness to stand upon an oath,  Mos. 
Well proved Mistress Alice, yet by your leave,  
I'll keep mine unbroken, whilst he lives.  Ales. 
I do, and spare not his time is but short,  
For if thou be'st as resolute as I,  
we'll have him murdered, as he walks the streets:  
In London many alehouse Ruffians keep,  
Which as I hear will murder men for gold,  
They shall be soundly fed, to pay him home:  Here enters green. Mos. 
Alice what's he that comes yonder, knowest thou him  Ales. 
mosby be gone, I hope 'tis one that comes  
To put in practise our intended drifts,  Exit mosby. Gre. 
Mistress Arden you are well met,  
I am sorry that your husband is from home,  
whenas my purposed journey was to him,  
Yet all my labour is not spent in vain:  
For I suppose that you can full discourse,  
And flat resolve me of the thing I seek.  Ales. 
What is it master Green? If that I may  
Or can, with safety, I will answer you.  Greene.. 
I heard your husband hath the grant of late,  
Confirmed by letters patents from the king,  
Of all the lands of the Abbey of Feversham,  
Generally entitled, so that all former grants,  
Are cut off, whereof I myself had one,  
But now my interest by that is void,  
This is all mistress Arden, is it true nor no?  Ales. 
True master Green, the lands are his in state,  
And whatsoever leases were before,  
Are void for term of Master Arden's life:  
He hath the grant under the Chancery seal.  Gre. 
Pardon me mistress Arden, I must speak,  
For I am touched, your husband doth me wrong:  
To wring me from the little land I have.  
My living is my life, only that  
Resteth remainder of my portion.  
Desire of wealth is endless in his mind,  
And he is greedy gaping still for gain,  
Nor cares he though young gentlemen do beg,  
So he may scrape and hoard up in his pouch,  
But seeing he hath taken my lands, I'll value life:  
As careless, as he is careful for to get,  
And tell him this from me, I'll be revenged,  
And so, as he shall wish the Abbey lands  
Had rested still, within their former state.  Ales. 
Alas poor gentleman, I pity you,  
And woe is me that any man should want,  
God knows 'tis not my fault, but wonder not  
Though he be hard to others, when to me,  
Ah master Green, God knows how I am used,  Gre. 
Why mistress Arden can the crabbed churl,  
Use you unkindly, respects he not your birth?  
Your honourable friends, nor what you brought:  
Why? all Kent knows your parentage, and what you are  Ales. 
Ah M. Green be it spoken in secret here,  
I never live good day with him alone:  
When he is at home, then have I froward looks,  
Hard words and blows, to mend the match withal;  
And though I might content as good a man,  
Yet doth he keep in every corner trulls,  
And weary with his trugs at home,  
Then rides he straight to London, there forsooth  
He revels it among such filthy ones,  
As counsels him to make away his wife:  
Thus live I daily in continual fear:  
In sorrow, so despairing of redress  
As every day I wish with hearty prayer,  
That he or I were taken forth the world.  Gre 
Now trust me mistress Alice, it grieveth me,  
So fair a creature should be so abused.  
Why who would have thought the civil sir, so sullen,  
He looks so smoothly now fie upon him Churl,  
And if he live a day he lives too long,  
But frolic woman, I shall be the man,  
Shall set you free from all this discontent:  
And if the Churl deny my interest,  
And will not yield my lease into my hand,  
I'll pay him home, whatever hap to me,  Ales. 
But speak you as you think?  Gre. 
I God's my witness, I mean plain dealing,  
For I had rather die than lose my land.  Ales. 
Then master Green be counseled by me  
endanger not yourself, for such a Churl,  
But hire some Cutter for to cut him short,  
And here's ten pound, to wager them with all,  
When he is dead you shall have twenty more.  
And the lands whereof my husband is possessed,  
Shall be entitled as they were before.  Gre. 
Will you keep promise with me?  Ales. 
Or count me false and perjured, whilst I live,  Gre. 
Then here's my hand I'll have him so dispatched,  
I'll up to London straight, I'll thither post,  
And never rest, till I have compassed it,  
Till then farewell.  Ales. 
Good Fortune follow all your forward thoughts Exit Grene.  
And whosoever doth attempt the deed,  
A happy hand I wish and so farewell.  
All this goes well, mosby I long for thee  
To let thee know all that I have contrived,  Here enters mosby & Clarke. Mos 
Now now Alice what's the news,  Ales. 
Such as will content thee well sweet heart,  Mos. 
Well let them pass a while, and tell me Alice,  
How have you dealt, and tempered with my sister,  
What will she have my neighbour clerk, or no?  Ales. 
What M. mosby let him woo himself,  
Think you that maids look not for fair words,  
Go to her clerk she's all alone within,  
Michael my man is clean out of her books.  Clarke 
I thank you mistress Arden, I will in,  
And if fair Susan, and I can make agree,  
You shall command me to the uttermost,  
As far as either goods or life may stretch. Exit Clark.  Mos. 
Now Alice let's hear thy news?  Ales. 
They be so good, that I must laugh for joy,  
Before I can begin to tell my tale,  Mos. 
Let's hear them, that I may laugh for company  Ales. 
This morning M. Green, dick green I mean,  
From whom my husband had the Abbey land,  
Came hither railing for to know the truth,  
Whether my husband had the lands by grant,  
I told him all, where at he stormed amain,  
And swore he would cry quittance with the Churl,  
And if he did deny his interest  
Stab him, whatsoever did befall himself,  
whenas I saw his choler thus to rise,  
I whetted on the gentleman with words  
And to conclude, mosby, at last we grew  
To composition for my husband's death,  
I gave him ten pound to hire knaves,  
By some devise to make away the Churl:  
When he is dead, he should have twenty more,  
And repossess his former lands again,  
On this we 'greed, and he is ridden straight  
To London, to bring his death about.  Mos. 
But call you this good news?  Ales. 
I sweet heart, be they not?  Mos. 
'Twere cheerful news, to hear the churl were dead,  
But trust me Alice, I take it passing ill,  
You would be so forgetful of our state,  
To make recount of it to every groom,  
What? to acquaint each stranger with our drifts,  
chiefly in case of murder, why 'tis the way,  
To make it open unto Arden's self.  
And bring thyself and me to ruin both,  
Forewarned, forearmed, who threats his enemy  
Lends him a sword to guard himself with all.  Ales. 
I did it for the best.  Mos. 
Well, seeing 'tis done, cheerly let it pass.  
You know this Green, is he not religious?  
A man I guess of great devotion.  Ales. 
He is.  Mos. 
Then sweet Alice let it pass, I have a drift  
Will quiet all, whatever is amiss.  Here enters clerk and Susan. Ales. 
How now clerk, have you found me false?  
Did I not plead the matter hard for you?  Clarke. 
You did.  Mos. 
And what, will be a match,  clerk. 
A match, i'faith sir I the day is mine,  
The Painter, lays his colours to the life,  
His pencil draws no shadows in his love.  
Susan is mine.  Ales. 
You make her blush.  Mos. 
What sister is it clerk must be the man?  Su. 
It resteth in your grant, some words are past,  
And happily we be grown unto a match,  
If you be willing that it shall be so?  Mos. 
Ah master clerk, it resteth at my grant,  
You see my sister's yet at my dispose,  
But so you'll grant me one thing I shall ask,  
I am content my sister shall be yours.  Clark. 
What is it M. mosby?  Mos. 
I do remember once in secret talk,  
You told me how you could compound by Art.  
A crucifix empoisoned:  
That who so look upon it should wax blind,  
And with the sent be stifled, that ere long,  
He should die poisoned, that did view it well.  
I would have you make me such a crucifix,  
And then I'll grant my sister shall be yours.  Cla. 
Though I am loath, because it toucheth life,  
Yet rather or I'll leave sweet Susan's love,  
I'll do it, and with all the haste I may.  
But for whom is it?  Ales. 
Leave that to us, why clerk, is it possible,  
That you should paint and draw it out yourself,  
The colours being baleful and empoisoned,  
And no ways prejudice yourself with all?  Mos. 
Well questioned Alice,  
clerk how answer you that?  Cla. 
Very easily, I'll tell you straight,  
How I do work of these Empoisoned drugs,  
I fasten on my spectacles so close,  
As nothing can any way offend my sight,  
Then as I put a lease within my nose,  
So put I rhubarb to avoid the smell,  
And softly as another work I paint,  Mos. 
'tis very well, but against when shall I have it,  Cla. 
Within this ten days,  Mos. 
I will serve the turn.  
Now Alice let's in, and see what cheer you keep,  
I hope now M. Arden is from home,  
You'll give me leave to play your husband's part.  Ales. 
mosby you know whose master of my heart,  
He well may be the master of the house. Exeunt,  Here enters green and Bradshaw, Brad. 
See you them that comes yonder M. Green?  Gren. 
I very well, do you know them?  Here enters Black Will and Shakebagge. Brad. 
The one I know not, but he seems a knave,  
Chiefly for bearing the other company:  
For such a slave, so vile a rogue as he,  
Lives not again upon the earth,  
Blackwill is his name I tell you M. Green,  
At Bulloine he and I were fellow soldiers,  
Where he played such pranks,  
As all the Camp feared him for his villainy:  
I warrant you he bears so bad a mind,  
That for a crown he'll murder any man.  Gre. 
The fitter is he for my purpose marry.  Will. 
How now fellow Bradshaw,  
whither away so early?  Brad. 
O Will times are changed, no fellows now,  
Though we were once together in the field,  
Yet thy friend to do thee any good I can.  Will. 
Why Bradshaw was not thou and I,  
Fellow soldiers at Bulloine:  
Where I was a corporal, and thou but a base mercenary groom?  
No fellows now, because you are a goldsmith,  
And have a little plate in your shop,  
You were glad to call me fellow Will,  
And with a curtsy to the earth,  
One snatch good corporal.  
When I stole the half Ore from john the victualler.  
And domineered with it, amongst good fellows,  
In one night.  Brad. 
I Will, those days are passed with me.  Will. 
ay but they be not passed with me.  
For I keep that same honourable mind still,  
Good neighbour Bradshaw you are too proud to be my fellow,  
But were it not, that I see more company coming down  
The hill, I would be fellows with you once more,  
And share Crowns with you too.  
But let that pass, and tell me whither you go.  Brad. 
To London Will, about a piece of service,  
Wherein happily thou mayst pleasure me.  Will. 
What is it?  Brad. 
Of late Lord Cheiny lost some plate,  
Which one did bring, and sold it at my shop,  
Saying he served sir Antony Cook,  
A search was made, the plate was found with me,  
And I am bound to answer at the size,  
Now Lord Cheiny solemnly vows,  
If law will serve him, he'll hang me for his plate,  
Now I am going to London upon hope,  
To find the fellow, now Will I know  
Thou art acquainted with such companions,  Will 
What manner of man was he?  Brad. 
A lean faced writhe knave,  
Hawk nosed, and very hollow eyed,  
With mighty furrows in his stormy brows,  
Long hair down his shoulders curled,  
His Chin was bare, but on his upper lip,  
A mutchado, which he wound about his ear,  Will. 
What apparel had he,  Brad. 
A watchet satin doublet all to torn,  
The inner side did bear the greater show,  
A pair of thread bare Velvet hose seam rent,  
A worsted stocking rent above the shoe,  
A livery cloak, but all the lace was off,  
'twas bad, but yet it served to hide the plate,  Will. 
Sirrah Shakbag, canst thou remember  
Since we trolled the bowl at Sittingburgh,  
Where I broke the lapster's head of the Lion  
With a cudgel stick?  Shak. 
I very well Will.  Will. 
Why it was with the money that the plate was sold for  
Sirrah Bradshaw what wilt thou give him  
That can tell thee who sold thy plate?  Brad. 
Who I pray thee good Will,  Will. 
Why 'twas one Jack Fitten,  
He's now in Newgate, for stealing a horse,  
And shall be arraigned the next life.  Brad. 
Why then let Lord Cheiny seek jack Fitten forth  
For I'll back and tell him, who robbed him of his plate,  
This cheers my heart M. Green, I'll leave you,  
For I must to the Isle of Sheppey with speed,  Greene. 
Before you go let me entreat you  
To carry this letter to mistress Arden of Feversham,  
And humbly recommend me to herself.  Brad. 
That will I M. Green, and so farewell.  
Here Will, there's a Crown for thy good news.  Exit Bradshaw. Will. 
Farewell Bradshaw,  
I'll drink no water for thy sake, whilst this lasts:  
Now gentlemen, shall we have your company to London.  Gre. 
Nay stay sirs, a little more I needs must use your help,  
And in a matter of great consequence,  
Wherein if you'll be secret and profound,  
I'll give you twenty Angels for your pains.  Will. 
How? twenty Angels? give my fellow  
George shakbag and me, twenty Angels,  
And if thou'lt have thy own father slain,  
That thou mayst inherit his land, we'll kill him,  Shak. 
I thy Mother, thy sister, thy brother, or all thy kin  Gre. 
Well this it is, Arden of Feversham,  
Hath highly wronged me about the Abbey land,  
That no revenge but death will serve the turn:  
Will you two kill him, here's the Angels down,  
And I will lay the platform of his death:  Will. 
Plat me no platforms give me the money,  
And i'll stab him as he stands pissing against a wall,  
but I'll kill him.  Sha. 
Where is he?  Greene.. 
He is now at London, in Aldersgate street,  Shak. 
He's dead, as if he had been condemned  
By an act of parliament, if once Black Will and I  
Swear his death,  Gre. 
Here is ten pound, and when he is dead,  
Ye shall have twenty more:  Will. 
My fingers itches to be at the peasant,  
Ah that I might be set a work thus through the year,  
And that murder would grow to an occupation:  
That a man might without danger of law,  
Zounds I warrant, I should be warden of the company,  
Come let us be going, and we'll bait at Rochester,  
Where I'll give thee a gallon of Sack,  
To handsel the match withal. Exeunt,  Here enters Michael. Mich. 
I have gotten such a letter,  
As will touch the Painter, And thus it is.  Here enters Arden and Franklin, and hears Michael read this letter. 
My duty remembered Mistress Susan, hoping in God you be in good health, as I Michael was at the making hereof. This is to certify you, that as the Turtle true, when she hath lost her mate, sitteth alone, so I mourning for your absence, do walk up and down. Poule's, till one day I fell asleep and lost my masters pantofles. Ah mistress Susan abolish that paltry Painter, cut him off by the shins, with a frowning look of your crabbed countenance, & think upon Michael, who drunk with the dregs of your favour, will cleave as fast to your love, as a plaster of Pitch to a galled horse back Thus hoping you will let my passions penetrate, or rather impetrate mercy of your meek hands, I end.  
Yours Michael, or else not Michael.  Ard. 
Why you paltry knave,  
Stand you here loitering, knowing my affairs,  
What haste my business craves to send to Kent?  Fran. 
Faith friend Michael, this is very ill,  
Knowing your master hath no more but you,  
And do ye slack his business for your own?  Ard. 
Where is the letter sirrah, let me see it, Then he gives him the letter.  
See master Franklin, here's proper stuff,  
Susan my maid, the Painter, and my man,  
A crew of harlots all in love forsooth,  
Sirrah let me hear no more of this.  
Now for thy life, once write to her a word, Here enters green, Will, and Shakebag,  
Wilt thou be married to so base a trull.  
'tis Mosby's sister, come I once at home,  
I'll rouse her from remaining in my house:  
Now M. Franklin let us go walk in Paul's,  
Come, but a turn or two and then away, Exeunt.  Gre. 
The first is Arden, and that's his man,  
The other is Franklin Arden's dearest friend,  Will. 
Zounds I'll kill them all three,  Gre. 
Nay sirs, touch not his man in any case,  
But stand close, and take you fittest standing,  
And at his coming forth speed him:  
To the nag's head, there's this cowards haunt,  
But now I'll leave you till the deed be done: Exit green  Sha. 
If he be not paid his own near trust shakbag,  Wil. 
Sirrah Shakbag, at his coming forth  
I'll run him through, and then to the blackfriars',  
And there take water and a way.  Sha. 
Why that's the best, but see thou miss him not.  Wil. 
How can I miss him, when I think on the forty  
Angels I must have more.  Here enters a Prentice, prentice. 
'tis very late, I were best shut up my stall,  
For here will be old filching when the press comes forth of Paul's.  Then lets he down his window, and it breaks Black Wills head. Wil. 
Zounds draw Shakbag draw, I am almost killed.  Pren. 
We'll tame you I warrant.  Wil. 
Zounds I am tame enough already,  Here enters Arden, Fran. & Michael. Ard. 
What troublesome fray or mutiny is this?  Fran 
'tis nothing but some brabbling paltry fray.  
Devised to pick men's pockets in the throng.  Ard. 
be't nothing else? come Franklin let us away. Exeunt  Wil. 
What mends shall I have for my broken head?  Pren. 
marry this mends, that if you get you not away  
All the sooner, you shall be well beaten and sent to the counter. Exit prentice.  Wil. 
Well I'll be gone, but look to your signs,  
For I'll pull them down all.  
Shakbag my broken head grieves me not so much,  
As by this means Arden hath escaped. Here enters green.  
I had a glimpse of him and his companion.  Gre. 
Why sirs, Arden's as well as I,  
I met him and Franklin going merrily to the ordinary,  
What dare you not do it?  Wil. 
Yes sir we dare do it, but were my consent to give again,  
We would not do it under ten pound more.  
I value every drop of my blood at a french Crown.  
I have had ten pound to steal a dog,  
And we have no more here to kill a man,  
But that a bargain is a bargain, and so forth,  
You should do it yourself.  Gre. 
I pray thee how came thy head broke,  Will. 
Why thou seest it is broke, dost thou not.  Sha. 
Standing against a stall, watching Arden's coming,  
A boy let down his shop window, and broke his head.  
Whereupon arose a brawl, and in the tumult  
Arden escaped us, and passed by unthought on.  
But forbearance is no acquittance,  
Another time we'll do it I warrant thee.  Gre. 
I pray thee will make clean thy bloody brow,  
And let us bethink us on some other place,  
Where Arden may be met with handsomely.  
Remember how devoutly thou hast sworn,  
To kill the villain think upon thine oath.  Will. 
Tush, I have broken five hundred oaths,  
But wouldst thou charm me to effect this deed?  
Tell me of gold my resolution's fee,  
Say thou seest mosby kneeling at my knees,  
Offering me service for my high attempt:  
And sweet Alice Arden with a lap of crowns.  
Comes with a lowly curtsy to the earth,  
Saying take this, but for thy quarterage,  
Such yearly tribute will I answer thee.  
Why this would steal soft mettled cowardice,  
With which black Will was never tainted with.  
I tell thee Green the forlorn travailer,  
Whose lips are glued with summers parching heat,  
near longed so much to see a running brook,  
As I to finish Arden's Tragedy.  
Seest thou this gore that cleaveth to my face?  
From hence near will I wash this bloody stain,  
Till Arden's heart be panting in my hand.  Gre. 
Why that's well said, but what saith shakbag?  Shak. 
I cannot paint my valour out with words,  
But give me place and opportunity,  
Such mercy as the starve Lioness  
When she is dry sucked of her eager young:  
Shows to the prey that next encounters her,  
On Arden so much pity would I take.  Gre. 
So should it fair with men of firm resolve,  
And now sirs seeing this accident,  
Of meeting him in Paul's hath no success:  
Let us bethink us on some other place,  
Whose earth may swallow up this Arden's blood. Here enters Michael.  
See yonder comes his man, and wot you what,  
The foolish knave is in love with Mosby's sister,  
And for her sake whose love he cannot get,  
Unless mosby solicit his suit.  
The villain hath sworn the slaughter of his master,  
we'll question him, for he may stead us much:  
How now Michael whether are you going?  Mic. 
My master hath new supped,  
And I am going to prepare his chamber.  Gre. 
Where supped M. Arden?  Mic. 
At the nag's head, at the 18 pence ordinary,  
How now M. Shakbag, what Black Will,  
God's dear lady, how chance your face is so bloody?  Wil. 
Go too sirrah, there is a chance in it.  
This sauciness in you will make you be knocked.  Mic. 
Nay and you be offended i'll be gone.  Gre. 
Stay michael you may not scape us so.  
Michael I know you love your M. well.  Mic. 
Why so I do, but wherefore urge you that?  Gre. 
Because I think you love your mistress better,  
So think not I, but say, i'faith what if I should?  Shak. 
Come to the purpose Michael, we hear  
You have a pretty love in Feversham,  Mic. 
Why have I two or three, what's that to thee?  Wil. 
You deal too mildly, with the peasant, thus it is,  
'tis known to us you love Mosby's sister.  
We know besides that you have ta'en your oath,  
To further mosby to your mistress bed.  
And kill your M. for his sister's sake.  
Now sir, a poorer coward than yourself,  
Was never fostered in the coast of Kent.  
Now comes it then, that such a knave as you  
Dare swear a matter of such consequence?  Gre. 
Ah will.  Will. 
Tush give me leave, there's no more but this,  
Sith thou hast sworn, we dare discover all,  
And hadst thou or shouldst thou utter it,  
We have devised a complot underhand  
whatever shall betide to any of us:  
To send thee roundly to the devil of hell.  
And therefore thus, I am the very man,  
Marked in my birth hour by the destinies,  
To give an end to Arden's life on earth,  
Thou but a member, but to whet the knife,  
Whose edge must search the closet of his breast,  
Thy office is but to appoint the place,  
And train thy M. to his tragedy.  
Mine to perform it, when occasion serves.  
Then be not nice, but here devise with us,  
How and what way, we may conclude his death.  Sha. 
So shalt thou purchase, mosby for thy friend  
And by his friendship gain his sister's love.  Gre, 
So shall thy mistress be thy favourer,  
And thou disburdened of the oath thou made.  Mic. 
Well gentlemen I cannot but confess,  
Sith you have vrdged me so apparently,  
That I have vowed my M. Arden's death,  
And he whose kindly love and liberal hand,  
Doth challenge nought but good deserts of me,  
I will deliver over to your hands.  
This night come to his house at Aldersgate,  
The doors I'll leave unlocked against you come.  
No sooner shall ye enter through the latch,  
Over the threshold to the inner court.  
But on your left hand shall you see the stairs.  
That leads directly to my M. chamber.  
There take him and dispose him as ye please,  
Now it were good we parted company,  
What I have promised, I will perform.  Wil. 
Should you deceive us, 'twould go wrong with you,  Mic. 
I will accomplish all I have revealed,  Wil. 
Come let's go drink, choler makes me as dry as a dog  Exeunt Will, Gre. and Shak. Manet Michael. Mic. 
Thus feeds the Lamb securely on the down,  
Whilst through the thicket of an arbour brake,  
The hunger bitten Wolf o'erpries his haunt,  
And takes advantage to eat him up.  
Ah harmless Arden how, how hast thou misdone,  
That thus thy gentle life is leveled at,  
The many good turns that thou hast done to me,  
Now must I quittance with betraying thee.  
I that should take the weapon in my hand,  
And buckler thee from ill intending foes.  
Do lead thee with a wicked fraudful smile,  
As unsuspected, to the slaughterhouse:  
So have I sworn to Mosby and my mistress.  
So have I promised to the slaughtermen.  
And should I not deal currently with them,  
Their lawless rage would take revenge on me,  
Tush I will spurn at mercy for this once.  
Let pity lodge where feeble women lie,  
I am resolved, and Arden needs must die. Exit Michael.  Here enters Arden & Fran. Arden. 
No Franklin no, if fear or stormy threats,  
If love of me, or care of womanhood,  
If fear of God, or common speech of men,  
Who mangle credit with their wounding words,  
And cooch dishonour, as dishonour buds.  
Might soyne repentance in her wanton thoughts,  
No question then but she would turn the lease,  
And sorrow for her dissolution.  
But she is rooted in her wickedness  
Perverse and stubborn, not to be reclaimed,  
Good counsel is to her as rain to weeds  
And reprehension makes her vice to grow,  
As Hydra's head that perished by decay.  
Her faults methink are painted in my face.  
For every searching eye to over-read.  
And Mosby's name, a scandal unto mine.  
Is deeply trenched in my blushing brow.  
Ah Franklin Franklin, when I think on this,  
My heart's grief rends my other powers,  
Worse than the conflict at the hour of death.  Farn. 
Gentle Arden leave this sad lament,  
She will amend, and so your griefs will cease  
Or else she'll die, and so your sorrows end.  
If neither of these two do happily fall,  
Yet let your comfort be, that others bear  
Your woes twice doubled all with patience.  Ard. 
My house is irksome, there I cannot rest.  Fra. 
Then stay with me in London, go not home.  Ard. 
Then that base mosby doth usurp my room,  
And makes his triumph of my being thence.  
At home, or not at home, where ere I be.  
Here here it lies, ah Franklin here it lies,  
That will not out till wretched Arden dies.  Here enters Michael. Fra. 
Forget your griefs a while, here comes your man,  Ard. 
What o'clock be't sirrah?  Mic. 
Almost ten.  Ard. 
See see how runs away the weary time,  
Come M. Franklin, shall we go to bed.  Exeunt Arden & Michael. Manet Franklin. Fran. 
I pray you go before, I'll follow you,  
Ah what a hell is fretful jealousy?  
What pity moaning words? what deep fetched sighs?  
What grievous groans? and overlading woes,  
Accompanies this gentle gentleman.  
Now will he shake his care oppressed head,  
Then fix his sad eyes on the sullen earth,  
Ashamed to gaze upon the open world.  
Now will he cast his eyes up towards the heavens,  
Looking that ways for redress of wrong,  
Some times he seeketh to beguile his grief,  
And tells a story with his careful tongue.  
Then comes his wives dishonour in his thoughts,  
And in the middle cutteth off his tale.  
Pouring fresh sorrow on his weary limbs.  
So woe begone, so inly charged with woe,  
Was never any lived and bore it so.  Here enters Michael. Mic. 
My M. would desire you come to bed.  Fra. 
Is he himself already in his bed?  Exit Fran. Manet Mic. Mic. 
He is and fain would have the light away,  
Conflicting thoughts encamped in my breast  
Awake me with the Echo of their strokes:  
And I a judge to censure either side,  
Can give to neither wished victory.  
My master's kindness pleads to me for life,  
With just demand, and I must grant it him.  
My mistress she hath forced me with an oath,  
For Susan's sake the which I may not break,  
For that is nearer than a master's love,  
That grim faced fellow, pitiless black Will,  
And Shakebag stern in bloody stratagem,  
Two rougher Ruffians never lived in Kent,  
Have sworn my death if I infringe my vow,  
A dreadful thing to be considered of,  
methinks I see them with their bolstered hair,  
Staring and grinning in thy gentle face,  
And in their ruthless hands, their daggers drawn,  
Insulting over thee with a peck of oaths.  
Whilst thou submissive pleading for relief,  
Art mangled by their ireful instruments.  
methinks I hear them ask where Michael is  
And pitiless black Will, cries stab the slave.  
The Peasant will detect the Tragedy.  
The wrinkles in his foul death threatening face,  
Gapes open wide, like graves to swallow men.  
My death to him is but a merriment,  
And he will murder me to make him sport.  
He comes he comes, ah M. Franklin help,  
Call up the neighbours or we are but dead  Here enters Fran. & Arden. Fran. 
What dismal outcry calls me from my rest?  Ard. 
What hath occasioned such a fearful cry?  
Speak Michael, hath any injured thee?  Mic. 
Nothing sir, but as I fell asleep,  
Upon the threshold leaning to the stairs.  
I had a fearful dream that troubled me,  
And in my slumber thought I was beset,  
With murderer thieves that came to rifle me.  
My trembling joints witness my inward fear.  
I crave your pardons for disturbing you.  Ard. 
So great a cry for nothing, I near heard.  
What, are the doors fast locked? and all things safe?  Mic. 
I cannot tell, I think I locked the doors.  Ard. 
I like not this, but I'll go see myself,  
near trust me, but the doors were all unlocked.  
This negligence not half contenteth me.  
Get you to bed, and if you love my favour,  
Let me have no more such pranks as these  
Come M. Franklin, let us go to bed.  Farn. 
I by my Faith, the air is very cold, Exeunt  
Michael farewell, I pray thee dream no more.  Sha. 
Black night hath hid the pleasures of that day. Here enters Will, Gre. and Shak.  
And sheting darkness overhangs the earth,  
And with the black fold of her cloudy rob,  
Obscures us from the eyesight of the world,  
In which sweet silence such as we triumph.  
The lazy minutes linger on their time,  
Loath to give due audit to the hour:  
Till in the watch our purpose be complete,  
And Arden sent to everlasting night.  
green get you gone, and linger here about,  
And at some hour hence, come to us again,  
Where we will give you instance of his death.  Gre. 
Speed to my wish whose will soe'er says no,  
And so i'll leave you for an hour or two. Exit Gre.  Will. 
I tell thee Shakebag, would this thing were done,  
I am so heavy that I can scarce go:  
This drowsiness in me bodes little good.  Shake. 
How now Will, become a precisian.  
Nay then let's go sleep, when bugs and fears,  
Shall kill our courages with their fancies work,  Will. 
Why Shakbag thou mistakes me much,  
And wrongs me to in telling me of fear,  
Wert not a serious thing we go about,  
It should be slipped, till I had sought with thee:  
To let thee know I am no coward I,  
I tell thee Shakbag thou abusest me.  Sha. 
Why thy speech bewrayed an inly kind of fear.  
And favoured of a weak relenting spirit.  
Go forward now in that we have begun.  
And afterwards attempt me when thou darest.  Wil. 
And if I do not heaven cut me of,  
But let that pass, and show me to this house.  
Where thou shalt see I'll do as much as Shakbag.  Sha. 
This is the door, but soft, methinks 'tis shut.  
The villain Michael hath deceived us,  Wil. 
Soft let me see, shakbag 'tis shut indeed.  
Knock with thy sword, perhaps the slave will hear,  Sha. 
It will not be, the white livered peasant is gone to bed  
And laughs us both to scorn.  Wil. 
And he shall by his merriment as dear,  
As ever coistrel bought so little sport,  
Here let this sword assist me when I need,  
But rust and canker after I have sworn:  
If I the next time that I meet the hind,  
Lop not away his leg, his arm or both,  Sha. 
And let me never draw a sword again,  
Nor prosper in the twilight, cock-shut light,  
When I would fleece the wealthy passenger,  
But lie and languish in a loathsome den:  
Hated and spit at by the goers by.  
And in that death may die, unpitied.  
If I the next time that I meet the slave,  
Cut not the nose from off the coward's face,  
And trample on it, for this villainy.  Wil. 
Come let's go seek out Green I know he'll swear  Sha. 
He were a villain and he would not swear,  
I would make a peasant swear amongst his boys.  
That near durst say before but yea and no.  
To be thus flouted of a coistrel.  Will. 
Shakbag let's seek out green, & in the morning  
At the Alehouse butting Arden's house,  
Watch thee out coming of that prick eared cur,  
And then let me alone to handle him. Exeunt.  Here enters Ard. Fra. & Michael. Ard. 
Sirrah get you back to Billingsgate,  
And learn what time the tide will serve our turn,  
Come to us in Paul's, first go make the bed,  
And afterwards go hearken for the flood. Exit Michael.  
Come M. Franklin, you shall go with me.  
This night I dreamed that being in a park,  
A toil was pitched to overthrow the dear,  
And I upon a little rising hill,  
Stood wistly watching for the herds approach,  
Even there methinks a gentle slumber took me,  
And summoned all my parts to sweet repose.  
But in the pleasure of this golden rest,  
An ill thewed foster had removed the toil,  
And rounded me with that beguiling home,  
Which late methought was pitched to cast the dear,  
With that he blew an evil sounding horn,  
And at the noise another herdman came:  
With Falchion drawn, and bent it at my breast.  
Crying aloud thou art the game we seek,  
With this I waked, and trembled every joint,  
Like one obscured in a little bush,  
That sees a lion foraging about,  
And when the dreadful forest King is gone,  
He pries about, with timorous suspect  
Throughout the thorny casements of the brake,  
And will not think his person dangerless.  
But quakes and showers though the cause be gone.  
So trust me Franklin when I did awake,  
I stood in doubt whether I waked or no:  
Such great impression took this fond surprise:  
God grant this vision bedeem me any good.  Fran. 
This fantasy doth rise from Michael's fear,  
Who being awaked with the noise he made,  
His troubled senses, yet could take no rest.  
And this I warrant you procured your dream.  Ard. 
It may be so God frame it to the best,  
But often times my dreams presage too true.  Fran. 
To such as note their nightly fantasies,  
Some one in twenty may incur belief,  
But use it not, 'tis but a mockery,  Ard. 
Come M. Franklin we'll now walk in Paul's  
And dine together at the ordinary,  
And by my man's direction draw to the key,  
And with the tide go down to Feversham,  
Say, M. Franklin shall it not be so?  Franklin. 
At your good pleasure sir,  
I'll bear you company. Exeunt.  Here enters Michael at one door. Here enters Grene, Will, and Shakebag, at another door. Wil. 
Draw Shakbag for here's that villain Michael,  Gre. 
First Will let's hear what he can say,  Wil. 
Speak milksop slave, & never after speak.  Mic. 
For God's sake sirs let me excuse myself.  
For hear I swear by heaven and earth and all,  
I did perform the outmost of my task,  
And left the doors unbolted and unlocked,  
But see the chance Franklin and my master,  
Were very late conferring in the porch,  
And Franklin left his napkin where he sat,  
With certain gold knit in it, as he said  
Being in bed, he did bethink himself,  
And coming down, he found the doors unshut,  
He locked the gates, and brought away the keys  
For which offence my master rated me,  
But now I am going to see what flood it is,  
For with the tide my M. will away.  
Where you may front him well on Rainham down,  
A place well fitting such a stratagem.  Wil. 
Your excuse hath some what mollified my choler,  
Why now Green 'tis better now nor ere it was,  Gre. 
But Michael is this true?  Mic. 
As true as I report it to be true.  Shak. 
Then Michael this shall be your penance,  
To feast us all at the Salutation,  
Where we will plat our purpose thoroughly.  Gre. 
And Michael, you shall bear no news of this tide  
Because they two may be in Kaynus down before your M.  Mic. 
Why I'll agree to any thing you'll have me.  
So you will except of my company. Exeunt.  Here enters Mosby. Mos. 
Disturbed thoughts drives me from company,  
And dries my marrow with their watchfulness,  
Continual trouble of my moody brain,  
Feebles my body by excess of drink,  
And nips me, as the bitter north-east wind,  
Doth check the tender blossoms in the spring.  
Well fares the man howe'er his cates do taste  
That tables not with foul suspicion:  
And he but pines amongst his delicates,  
Whose troubled mind is stuffed with discontent.  
My golden time was when I had no gold,  
Though then I wanted, yet I slept secure,  
My daily toil, begat me night's repose:  
My night's repose made daylight fresh to me.  
But since I climbed the top bough of the tree,  
And sought to build my nest among the clouds.  
Each gentlest airy gail doth shake my bed:  
And makes me dread my downfall to the earth,  
But whither doth contemplation carry me.  
The way I seek to find where pleasure dwells,  
Is hedged behind me that I cannot back,  
But needs must on, although to danger's gate:  
Then Arden perish thou by that decree.  
For Green doth err the land and weed thee up,  
To make my harvest nothing but pure corn.  
And for his pains I'll heave him up a while,  
And after smother him to have his wax.  
Such bees as Green, must never live to sting.  
Then is there Michael and the Painter to,  
Chief actors to Arden's overthrow:  
Who when they shall see me sit in Arden's seat,  
They will insult upon me for my meed,  
Or fright me by detecting of his end.  
I'll none of that, for I can cast a bone,  
To make these curs pluck out each others throat,  
And then am I sole ruler of mine own:  
Yet mistress Arden lives, but she's myself,  
And holy Church rites makes us two, but one,  
But what for that I may not trust you Alice,  
You have supplanted Arden for my sake,  
And will extirpen me to plant another:  
'tis fearful sleeping in a serpent's bed.  
And I will cleanly rid my hands of her. Here enters Aes.  
But here she comes and I must flatter her.  
How now Alice? what sad, and passionate?  
Make me partaker of thy pensiveness:  
Fire divided burns with lesser force.  Ales 
But I will damn that fire in my breast.  
Till by the force thereof, my part consume, ah mosby.  Mos. 
Such deep pathaires like to a cannon's burst,  
discharged against a ruinated wall,  
Breaks my relenting heart in thousand pieces,  
Ungentle Alice thy sorrow is my sore,  
Thou know'st it well, and 'tis thy policy,  
To forge distressful looks, to wound a breast,  
Where lies a heart, that dies where thou art sad,  
It is not love, that loves to anger love.  Ales. 
It is not love, that loves to murder love.  Mos. 
How mean you that?  Ales. 
Thou knowest how dearly Arden loved me.  Mos. 
And then.  Ales. 
And then conceal the rest, for 'tis too bad,  
lest that my words be carried with the wind.  
And published in the world to both our shames,  
I pray thee Mosby let our spring-time wither,  
Our harvest else will yield but loathsome weeds.  
Forget I pray thee what hath passed betwixt us,  
For now I blush and tremble at the thoughts,  Mos. 
What are you changed?  Ales. 
I to my former happy life again.  
From title of an odious strumpet's name,  
To honest Arden's wife, not Arden's honest wife,  
Ha Mosby 'tis thou hast rifled me of that,  
And made me slanderous to all my kin:  
Even in my forehead is thy name engraven,  
A mean artificer, that low borne name,  
I was bewitched, woe worth the hapless hour,  
And all the causes that enchanted me:  Mos. 
Nay if thou ban, let me breathe curses forth,  
And if you stand so nicely at your fame:  
Let me repent the credit I have lost,  
I have neglected matters of import,  
That would have stated me above thy state:  
forslowed advantages, and spurned at time.  
I Fortune's right hand mosby hath forsooth,  
To take a wanton giglot by the lest.  
I left the Marriage of a honest maid,  
Whose dowry would have weighed down all thy wealth,  
Whose beauty and demeanour far exceeded thee.  
This certain good I lost for changing bad,  
And wrapped my credit in thy company.  
I was bewitched, that is no theme of thine,  
And thou unhallowed hast enchanted me:  
But I will break thy spells, and exorcisms,  
And put another sight upon these eyes,  
That showed my heart, a raven for a dove.  
Thou art not fair, I viewed thee not till now,  
Thou art not kind, till now I knew thee not.  
And now the rain hath beaten of thy gilt,  
Thy worthless copper shows thee counterfeit.  
It grieves me not to see how foul thou art,  
But mads me that ever I thought thee fair,  
Go get thee gone, a copesmate for thy hinds.  
I am too good to be thy favourite.  Ales. 
I now I see, and too soon find it true,  
Which often hath been told me by my friends:  
That mosby loves me not but for my wealth,  
Which too incredulous I near believed.  
Nay hear me speak mosby a word or two,  
I'll bite my tongue, if it speak bitterly:  
Look on me Mosby, or I'll kill myself,  
Nothing shall hide me from thy stormy look:  
If thou cry war, there is no peace for me  
I will do penance for offending thee,  
And burn this prayer book, where I here use,  
The holy word that had converted me,  
See mosby I will tear away the leaves.  
And all the leaves, and in this golden cover,  
Shall thy sweet phrases, and thy letters dwell,  
And thereon will I chiefly meditate,  
And hold no other sect, but such devotion,  
Wilt thou not look? is all thy love overwhelmed?  
Wilt thou not hear? what malice stops thine ears?  
Why speaks thou not? what silence ties thy tongue?  
Thou hast been sighted, as the eagle is,  
And heard as quickly as the fearful hare:  
And spoke as smoothly as an orator.  
When I have bid thee hear, or see, or speak.  
And art thou sensible in none of these?  
Weigh all thy good turns, with this little fault,  
And I deserve not Mosby's muddy looks.  
A fence of trouble is not thickened still,  
Be clear again, I'll near more trouble thee,  Mos. 
O no, I am a base artificer,  
My wings are feathered for a lowly sight,  
Mosby fie no, not for a thousand pound,  
Make love to you, why 'tis unpardonable,  
We beggars must not breathe where gentiles are.  Ales 
Sweet mosby is as gentle as a King,  
And I too blind, to judge him otherwise,  
Flowers do some times spring in fallow lands,  
Weeds in gardens, Roses grow on thorns.  
So whatsoe'er my Mosby's father was,  
Himself valued gentle by his worth.  Mos. 
Ah how you women can insinuate,  
And clear a trespass with your sweet set tongue,  
I will forget this quarrel gentle Alice,  
Provided I'll be tempted so no more:  Here enters Bradshaw, Al. 
Then with thy lips seal up this new made match  Mos. 
Soft Alice for here comes somebody.  Ales. 
How now Bradshaw, what's the news with you  Brad. 
I have little news but here's a letter.  
That M. Green importuned me to give you:  Ales 
Go in Bradshaw call for a cup-of bear. Exit  
'tis almost suppertime, thou shalt stay with us.  
Then she reads the Letter.  
We have missed of our purpose at London, but shall perform it by the way, We thank our neighbour Bradshaw.  
Yours Richard Green.  
How likes my love the tenor of this letter?  Mos. 
Well, were his date complete and expired.  Ales. 
Ah would it were,  
Then comes my happy hour.  
Till then my bliss is mixed with bitter gall.  
Come let us in to shun suspicion.  Ales. 
I to the gates of death to follow thee. Exeunt.  Here enters green Will & Shakbag. Shak. 
Come Will, see thy tools be in a readiness?  
Is not thy Powder dank,  
Or will thy flint strike fire  Will. 
Then ask me if my nose be on my face,  
Or whether my tongue be frozen in my mouth.  
Zounds here's a coil, you were best swear me on the intergatories, how many Pistols I have took in hand,  
Or whether I love the smell of gun powder,  
Or dare abide the noise the dag will make,  
Or will not wink at flashing of the fire.  
I pray thee shackbag let this answer thee.  
That I have took more purses in this down,  
Then ere thou handledst pistols in thy life.  Sha. 
I happily thou hast picked more in a throng.  
But should I brag what booties I have took,  
I think the overplus that's more than thine,  
Would mount to a greater some of money,  
Then either thou, or all thy kin are worth.  
Zounds I hate them as I hate a toad,  
That carry a muscado in their tongue.  
And scarce a hurting weapon in their hand.  Wil. 
O Gróene, intolerable,  
It is not for mine honour to bear this.  
Why shakbag I did serve the King at Bulloyne,  
And thou canst brag of nothing that thou hast done.  Shak. 
Why so can jack of Feversham,  
That sounded for a fillip on the nose:  
When he that gave it him hollowed in his ear.  
And he supposed a Cannon bullet hit him.  Then they fight. Grene. 
I pray you sirs list to Esop's talk,  
Whilst two stout dogs were striving for a bone,  
There comes a cur, and stole it from them both,  
So while you stand striving on these terms of manhood,  
Arden escapes us and deceive us all.  Shake. 
Why he begun.  Will. 
And thou shalt find I'll end.  
I do but slip it until better time.  
But if I do forget.  Then he kneels down and holds up his hands to heaven. Grene. 
Well take your fittest standings, & once more  
Lime your twigs to catch this weary bird,  
I'll leave you, and at your dags discharge  
Make towards like the longing water dog,  
That coucheth till the fowling piece be of:  
Then seizeth on the prey with eager mood,  
Ah might I see him stretching forth his limbs,  
As I have seen them beat their wings ere now,  Shak. 
Why that thou shalt see if he come this way,  Gre. 
Yes that he doth shakbag I warrant thee:  
But brawl not when I am gone in any case,  
But sirs be sure to speed him, when he comes,  
And in that hope I'll leave you for an hour. Exit Gre.  Here enters Arden Fran. & Mic. Mic. 
'twere best that I went back to Rochester,  
The horse halts down right, it were not good  
He travailed in such pain to Feversham:  
Removing of a shoe may happily help it.  Ard. 
Well get you back to Rochester, but sirrah see ye overtake us ere we come to Raynum down,  
For it will be very late ere we get home:  Mic. 
I God he knows, & so doth Will and shakbag,  
That thou shalt never go further than that down,  
And therefore have I pricked the horse on purpose,  
Because I would not view the massacre. Exit Michael.  Arden. 
Come M. Franklin onwards with your tale,  Fran. 
I assure you sir, you task me much,  
A heavy blood is gathered at my heart,  
And on the sudden is my wind so short:  
As hindereth the passage of my speech.  
So fierce a qualm yet near assailed me:  Ard. 
Come M. Franklin let us go on softly,  
The annoyance of the dust, or else some meat,  
you eat at dinner, cannot brook you:  
I have been often so, and soon amended.  Fra. 
Do you remember where my tale did leave?  Ard. 
ay, where the gentleman did check his wife.  Fran. 
She being reprehended for the fact.  
Witness produced that took her with the deed,  
Her glove brought in, which there she left behind,  
And many other assured Arguments:  
He husband asked her whether it were not so.  Ard. 
her answer then, I wonder how she looked,  
Having forsworn it with such vehement oaths,  
And at the instant so approved upon her,  Fra. 
First did she cast her eyes down to the earth,  
Watching the drops that fell amain from thence,  
Then softly draws she forth her hand kercher,  
And modestly she wipes her tear stained face:  
Then hemmed she out to clear her voice should seem,  
And with a majesty addressed herself,  
To encounter all their accusations.  
Pardon me M. Arden I can no more:  
This fighting at my heart, makes short my wind.  Ard. 
Come we are almost now at Raynum down,  
Your pretty tale beguiles the weary way:  
I would you were in state to tell it out.  Shak. 
Stand close Will I hear them coming.  Here enters Lord Cheiny with his men. Wil. 
Stand to it Shakbag, and be resolute,  Lord Che. 
Is it so near night as it seems,  
Or will this black faced evening have a shower?  
What M. Arden, you are well met,  
I have longed this fortnight's day to speak with you,  
You are a stranger man in the isle of Shepny,  Ard. 
Your honours always bound to do you service,  Lord Che. 
Come you from London & near a man with you?  Ard. 
My man's coming after,  
But her's my honest friend that came along with me.  Lord Che. 
My Lord protector's man I take you to be  Fran. 
I my good Lord, and highly bound to you,  Lord Che. 
You & your friend come home & sup with me.  Ard. 
I beseech your honour pardon me.  
I have made a promise to a gentle man,  
My honest friend to meet him at my house,  
The occasion is great, or else would I wait on you.  Lord C. 
Will you come tomorrow & dine with me  
And bring your honest friend along with you:  
I have divers matters to talk with you about.  Arden. 
Tomorrow we'll wait upon your honour,  Lord C. 
One of you stay my horse at the top of the hill  
What black Will, for whose purse wait you?  
Thou wilt be hanged in Kent, when all is done.  Wil. 
Not hanged, God save your honour.  
I am your beadsman, bound to pray for you,  Lord C. 
I think thou near saidst prayer in all thy life,  
One of you give him a crown,  
And sirrah leave this kind of life.  
If thou be'st tainted for a penny matter,  
And come in question surely thou wilt truss,  
Come M. Arden let us be going,  
Your way and mine lies four mile together. Exeunt  Manet Black Wil & Shakbag. Will 
The Devil break all your necks, at 4 miles end,  
Zounds I could kill myself for very anger.  
His Lordship chops me in, even when  
My dag was levelled at his heart.  
I would his crown were molten down his throat,  Sha. 
Arden thou hast wondrous holy luck,  
Did ever man escape as thou hast done.  
Well I'll discharge my pistol at the sky,  
For by this bullet Arden might not die.  Here enters green. Gre. 
What is he down, is he dispatched?  Sha. 
I in health towards Feversham, to shame us all  Gre. 
The Devil he is, why sirs how escaped he?  shak 
When we were ready to shoot,  
Comes my Lord Cheiny to prevent his death.  Grene. 
The Lord of heaven hath preserved him.  Will. 
Preserved, a fig, the L. Cheiny hath preserved him  
And bids him to a feast, to his house at shorlow:  
But by the way, once more I'll meet with him,  
And if all the Cheinies in the world say no,  
I'll have a bullet in his breast tomorrow,  
Therefore come Green and let us to Feversham.  Gre. 
I and excuse ourselves to mistress Arden,  
O how she'll chafe when she hears of this.  sha. 
Why i'll warrant you she'll think we dare not do it  Wil. 
Why then let us go, & tell her all the matter.  
And plat the news to cut him of tomorrow. Exeunt.  Here enters Arden and his wife, Franklin and Michael. Ard. 
See how the hours the guardant of heavens gate  
Have by their toil removed the darksome clouds.  
That sol may well deserve the trampled pace,  
Wherein he wont to guide his golden car,  
The season fits, come Franklin, let's away.  Ales. 
I thought you did pretend some special hunt,  
That made you thus cut short the time of rest.  Ard. 
It was no chase that made me rise so early,  
But as I told thee yesternight to go to the Isle of Sheppy:  
There to dine with my Lord Cheiny.  
For so his honour late commanded me.  Ales. 
I such kind husbands seldom want excuses,  
Home is a wild Cat, to a wandering wit,  
The time hath been, would God it were not past,  
That honours title nor a lord's command,  
Could once have drawn you from these arms of mine,  
But my deserts, or your deserves decay,  
Or both, yet if true love may seem desert,  
I merit still to have thy company.  Fran. 
Why I pray you sir, let her go along with us,  
I am sure his honour will welcome her,  
And us the more, for bringing her along.  Ard. 
Content, sirrah saddle your mistress nag.  Ales. 
No, begged favour merits little thanks,  
If I should go, our house would run away,  
Or else be stolen, therefore I'll stay behind.  Ard. 
Nay see how mistaking you are,  
I pray thee go.  Ales. 
No no, not now.  Ard. 
Then let me leave thee satisfied in this,  
That time nor place, nor persons alter me,  
But that I hold thee dearer than my life.  Ales. 
That will be seen by your quick return.  Ard. 
And that shall be ere night and if I live.  
Farewell sweet Alice, we mind to sup with thee. Exit Al.  Fra. 
Come Michael are our horses ready?  Mic. 
I your horse are ready, but I am not ready,  
For I have lost my purse,  
With six and thirty shillings in it,  
With taking up of my M. Nag.  Fra. 
Why I pray you let us go before,  
Whilst he stays behind to seek his purse.  Ard. 
Go too sirrah, see you follow us to the isle of Sheppey,  
To my Lord Cheyny's where we mean to dine.  Exeunt Arden & Franklin. Manet Michael. Mic. 
So fair weather after you,  
For before you lies, black Will and shakebag,  
In the broom close, to close for you,  
They'll be your ferrymen to long home, Here enters the Painter.  
But who is this the Painter, my corrival,  
That would needs win M. Susan.  Clark. 
How now Michael how doth my Mistress,  
And all at home?  Mic. 
Who susan Mosby? she is your Mistress too  Cla. 
I How doth she, and all the rest?  Mic. 
all's well but susan she is sick,  Cla. 
Sick, of what disease?  Mic. 
Of a great fear.  Cla. 
A fear, of what?  Mic. 
A great fever.  Cla. 
A fever God forbid.  Mic. 
Yes faith, and of a lordaine too,  
As big as yourself.  Cla. 
M. Michael the spleen prickles you.  
Go too, you carry an eye over mistress susan.  Mic. 
i'faith, to keep her from the Painter.  Cla. 
Why more from a Painter, than from a serving creature like yourself.  Mic. 
Because you Painters make but a painting table of a pretty wench, and spoil her beauty with blotting.  Cla. 
What mean you by that?  Mic. 
Why that you Painters, paint lambs, in the lining of wenches petticoats  
And we serving men put horns to them, to make them become sheep.  Cla. 
Such another word will cost you a cuff or a knock  Mic. 
What with a dagger made of a pencil?  
Faith 'tis too weak,  
And therefore thou too weak to win susan.  Cla. 
Would susans love lay upon this stroke,  Then he breaks Michael's head. Here enters Mosby green & Ales.. Ales. 
I'll lay my life, this is for susans love,  
Stayed you behind your M. to this end?  
Have you no other time to brabble in  
But now when serious matters are in hand?  
Say Clarke, hast thou done the thing thou promised?  Cla. 
I hear it is, the very touch is death.  Ales. 
Then this I hope, if all the rest do fail,  
Will catch M. Arden,  
And make him wise in death, that lived a fool.  
Why should he thrust his sickle in our corn,  
Or what hath he to do with thee my love?  
Or govern me that am to rule myself,  
Forsooth for credit's sake I must leave thee.  
Nay he must leave to live, to live, that we may love,  
May live may love for what is life but love?  
And love shall last as long as life remains,  
And life shall end, before my love depart.  Mos. 
Why what's love, without true constancy?  
Like to a pillar built of many stones.  
Yet neither with good mortar, well compact,  
Nor cement, to fasten it in the joints.  
But that it shakes with every blast of wind,  
And being touched, straight falls unto the earth,  
And buries all his haughty pride in dust.  
No let our love be rocks of adamant,  
Which time nor place, nor tempest can asunder.  Gre. 
mosby leave protestations now,  
And let us bethink us what we have to do:  
Black Will and shakebag I have placed,  
In the broom close watching Arden's coming,  
Let's to them, and see what they have done. Exeunt  Here enters Ard. & Fra. Ard. 
Of ferry man, where art thou?  Here enters the ferry-man. Fer. 
Here here, go before to the boat.  
And I will follow you.  Ard. 
We have great haste, I pray thee come away.  Fer. 
Fie what a mist is here.  Ard. 
This missed my friend, is mystical,  
Like to a good companions smoky brain,  
That was half drowned with new ale over night.  Fer. 
I were pity but his skull were opened,  
To make more Chimney room.  Fran. 
Friend what's thy opinion of this mist.  Fer. 
I think 'tis like to a cursed wife in a littlehouse,  
That never leaves her husband till she have driven him out at doors, with a wet pair of eyes,  
Then looks he as if his house were afire,  
Or some of his friends dead.  Ard. 
Speaks thou this of thine own experience,  Fer. 
Perhaps I, perhaps no: For my wife is as other women are, that is to say, governed by the Moon.  Fran. 
By the Moon, how I pray thee?  Fer. 
Nay thereby lies a bargain.  
And you shall not have it fresh and fasting.  Ard. 
Yes I pray thee good ferryman.  Fer. 
Then for this once, let it be midsummer Moon,  
But yet my wife as another moon.  Fran. 
Another Moon.  Fer. 
ay, and it hath influences and Eclipses.  Ard. 
Why then by this reckoning, you sometimes  
Play the man in the Moon.  Fer. 
ay but you had not best to meddle with that moon  
lest I scratch you by the face, with my bramble bush,  Ard. 
I am almost stifled with this fog, come let's away  Fran. 
And sirrah as we go, let's us have some more of your bold yeomanry.  Fer. 
Nay by my troth sir, but flat knavery. Exeunt.  Here enters Will at one door, and Shakbag at another. Sha. 
Oh Will where art thou?  Wil. 
Here shakbag, almost in hell's mouth,  
Where I can not see my way for smoke.  Sha. 
I pray thee speak still, that we may meet by the sound, for I shall fall into some ditch or other, unless my feet see better than my eyes.  Wil. 
diddest thou ever see better weather to run away with another man's wife, or play with a wench at potfinger.  shak. 
No this were a fine world for chandlers,  
If this weather would last, for then a man  
Should never dine nor sup without candle light,  
But sirrah Will what horses are those that past?  Wil. 
Why, didst thou hear any?  Sha. 
I that I did.  Will. 
My life for thine, 'twas Arden and his companion  
And then all our labour's lost,  Sha. 
Nay say not so for, if it be they, they may happily lose their way as we have done  
And then we may chance meet with them.  Wil. 
Come let us go on like a couple of blind pilgrims  Then Shakebag falls into a ditch. Sha. 
Help Will help, I am almost drowned.  Here enters the ferryman. Fer. 
whose's that, that calls for help?  Wil. 
'Twas none here, 'twas thou thyself.  Fer. 
I came to help him that called for help,  
Why how now? who is this that's in the ditch?  
You are well enough served, to go without a guide such weather as this.  Wil. 
Sirrah what companies hath passed your ferry this morning  Fer. 
None but a couple of gentlemen, that went to dine at my Lord Cheyny's.  Wil. 
Shakbag did not I tell thee as much?  Fer. 
Why sir, will you have any letters carried to them  Wil. 
No sir, get you gone.  Fer. 
Did you ever see such a mist as this?  Wil. 
No, nor such a fool as will rather be bought than get his way.  Fer. 
Why sir, this is no hough Monday, you are deceived  
What's his name I pray you sir?  Sha. 
His name is black will.  Fer. 
I hope to see him one day hanged upon a hill.  Exit ferry-man. Sha. 
See how the Sun hath cleared the foggy mist,  
Now we have missed the mark of our intent.  Here enters Grene Mosbye and Ales.. Mos. 
Black Will and Shakbag, what make you here  
What is the deed done? is Arden dead.  Wil. 
What could a blinded man perform in arms?  
Saw you not how till now, the sky was dark,  
That neither horse nor man could be discerned,  
Yet did we hear their horses as they passed.  Gre. 
Have they escaped you then, and past the ferry?  Sha. 
I for a while, but here we two will stay.  
And at their coming back meet with them once more,  
Zounds I was near so toiled in all my life,  
In following so slight a task as this.  Mos. 
How camest thou so berayed?  Wil. 
With making false footing in the dark,  
He needs would follow them without a guide.  Ales. 
Here's to pay for a fire and good cheer  
Get you to Feversham to the fleur-de-lys,  
And rest yourselves until some other time.  Gre. 
Let me alone, it most concerns my state.  Wil. 
I mistress Arden this will serve the turn,  
In case we fall into a second fog.  Exeunt. Grene Will and Shak. Mos. 
These knaves will never do it, let us give it over  Ales. 
First tell me how you like my new device?  
Soon when my husband is returning back,  
You and I both marching arm in arm,  
Like loving friends we'll meet him on the way.  
And boldly beard and brave him to his teeth:  
When words grow hot, and blows begin to rise,  
I'll call those cutters forth your tenement,  
Who in a manner to take up the fray,  
Shall wound my husband hornesby to the death.  Mos. 
Ah fine devise, why this deserves a kiss. Exeunt.  Here enters Dick Reed and a sailor. Sailor. 
Faith Dick Rede it is to little end.  
His conscience is too liberal, and he too niggardly.  
To part from any thing may do thee good.  Rede 
He is coming from Shorlow as I understand,  
Here i'll intercept him, for at his house  
He never will vouchsafe to speak with me:  
If prayers and fair entreaties will not serve,  
Or make no battery in his flinty breast. Here enters Fra. Ard. and Michael.  
I'll curse the carl and see what that will do.  
See where he comes, to further my intent,  
M. Arden I am now bound to the sea,  
My coming to you was about the plat of ground,  
Which wrongfully you detain from me.  
Although the rent of it be very small,  
Yet will it help my wife and children:  
Which here I leave in Feversham God knows,  
Needy and bare, for Christ sake let them have it,  Ard. 
Franklin hearest thou this fellow speak?  
That which he craves I dearly bought of him,  
Although the rent of it was ever mine.  
Sirrah you, that ask these questions,  
If with thy clamorous impeaching tongue  
Thou rail on me, as I have heard thou dost,  
I'll lay thee up so close a twelvemonth's day,  
As thou shalt neither see the Son nor Moon,  
Look to it, for as surely as I live,  
I'll banish pity if thou use me thus.  Rede. 
What wilt thou do me wrong, & threat me too?  
Nay then I'll tempt thee, Arden do thy worst,  
God I beseech thee show some miracle,  
On thee or thine, in plaguing thee for this.  
That plot of ground, which thou detains from me,  
I speak it in an agony of spirit,  
Be ruinous and fatal unto thee:  
Either there be butchered by thy dearest friends,  
Or else be brought for men to wonder at.  
Or thou or thine miscarry in that place.  
Or there run mad, and end thy cursed days,  Fra. 
Fie bitter knave bridle thine envious tongue,  
For curses are like arrows shot upright,  
Which falling down light on the suitors head.  Rede. 
Light where they will, were I upon the sea,  
As oft I have in many a bitter storm,  
And saw a dreadful southern flaw at hand,  
The pilate quaking at the doubtful storm,  
And all the sailors praying on their knees,  
Even in that fearful time would I fall down,  
And ask of God, whate'er betide of me,  
Vengeance on Arden, or some misevent,  
To show the world, what wrong the carl hath done,  
This charge I'll leave with my distressful wife.  
My children shall be taught such prayers as these,  
And thus I go but leave my curse with thee.  Exeunt Rede & Sailor. Ard. 
It is the railingest knave in Christendom,  
And oftentimes the villain will be mad,  
It greatly matters not what he says,  
But I assure you, I near did him wrong.  Fra. 
I think so M. Arden.  Ard. 
Now that our horses are gone home before,  
My wife may haply meet me on the way,  
For God knows she is grown passing kind of late,  
And greatly changed from the old humour  
Of her wonted frowardness.  
And seeks by fair means to redeem old faults.  Fra. 
Happy the change, that altars for the best,  
But see in any case you make no speech,  
Of the cheer we had at my Lord Cheiny's,  
Although most bounteous and liberal,  
For that will make her think herself more wronged,  
In that we did carry her along,  
For sure she grieved that she was left behind,  Ard. 
Come Franklin, let us strain to mend our pace,  
And take her unawares playing the cook. Here enters Ales and mosby.  
For I believe she'll strive to mend our cheer.  Fran. 
Why there's no better creatures in the world  
Then women are, when they are in good humours.  Ard. 
Who is that? mosby, what so familiar?  
Injurious strumpet, and thou ribald knave,  
untwine those arms.  Ales. 
I with a sugared kiss, let them untwine.  Ard. 
Ah mosby, perjured beast, bear this and all.  Mos. 
And yet no horned beast,  
The horns are thine.  Fran. 
O monstrous, Nay then 'tis time to draw.  Ales 
Help help, they murder my husband.  Here enters Will, and Shak, Sha. 
Zounds who injures M. mosby.  
Help Will I am hurt.  Mos. 
I may thank you Mistress arden for this wound,  Exeunt Mosby Will & Shakbag. Ales. 
Ah Arden what folly blinded thee?  
Ah jealous harebrain man what hast thou done,  
When we to welcome thy intended sport.  
Came lovingly to meet thee on thy way.  
Thou drewest thy sword enraged with jealousy,  
And hurt thy friend,  
Whose thoughts were free from harm.  
All for a worthless kiss, and joining arms.  
Both done but merely to try thy patience.  
And me unhappy that devised the jest,  
Which though begun in sport, yet ends in blood.  Fran. 
marry God defend me from such a jest.  Ales. 
Could thou not see us friendly smile on thee.  
When we joined arms and when I kissed his cheek.  
Hast thou not lately found me over kind?  
Didst thou not hear me cry they murder thee.  
Called I not help to set my husband free:  
No, ears and all were witched, ah me accursed,  
To link in liking with a frantic man,  
Hence forth I'll be thy slave, no more thy wife:  
For with that name I never shall content thee.  
If I be merry thou straight ways thinks me light.  
If sad thou sayest the sullens trouble me.  
If well attired thou thinks I will be gadding,  
If homely, I seem sluttish in thine eye.  
Thus am I still, and shall be while I die,  
Poor wench abused by thy misgovernment,  Ard. 
But is it for truth, that neither thou nor he,  
intendedst malice in your misdemeanour.  Ales. 
The heavens can witness of our harmless thoughts  Ard. 
Then pardon me sweet Alice,  
And forgive this fault:  
Forget but this, and never see the like.  
Impose me penance, and I will perform it:  
For in thy discontent I find a death,  
A death tormenting more than death itself,  Ales. 
Nay hadst thou loved me as thou dost pretend,  
Thou wouldst have marked the speeches of thy friend,  
Who going wounded from the place, he said  
His skin was pierced only through my devise,  
And if sad sorrow taint thee for this fault,  
Thou wouldst have followed him, and seen him dressed,  
And cried him mercy whom thou hast misdone,  
near shall my heart be eased till this be done.  Arden. 
Content thee sweet Alice thou shalt have thy will  
whate'er it be, For that I injured thee  
And wronged my friend, shame scourgeth my offence,  
Come thou thyself and go along with me,  
And be a mediator twixt us two.  Fran. 
Why M. Arden, know you what you do,  
Will you follow him that hath dishonoured you,  Ales. 
Why canst thou prove I have been disloyal.  Fran. 
Why mosby taunts your husband with the horn,  Ales. 
I after he had reviled him,  
By the injurious name of perjured beast,  
He knew no wrong could spite an jealous man,  
More than the hateful naming of the horn.  Fran. 
Suppose 'tis true, yet is it dangerous.  
To follow him whom he hath lately hurt,  Ales. 
A fault confessed is more than half amends,  
But men of such ill spirit as yourself.  
Work crosses and debates twixt man and wife.  Ard. 
I pray thee gentle Franklin hold thy peace,  
I know my wife counsels me for the best,  Ard. 
I'll seek out mosby, where his wound is dressed,  
And salve his hapless quarrel if I may.  Exeunt Arden & Ales.. Fran. 
He whom the devil drives must go perforce,  
Poor gentleman how soon he is bewitched,  
And yet because his wife is the instrument,  
His friends must not be lavish in their speech, Exit Fran.  Here enters Will shakabage & green Wil. 
Sirrah Green when was I so long in killing a man.  Gre. 
I think we shall never do it.  
Let us give it over.  Sha. 
Nay Zounds we'll kill him.  
Though we be hanged at his door for our labour.  Wil. 
Thou knowest green that I have lived in  
London this twelve years.  
Where I have made some go upon wooden legs,  
For taking the wall on me,  
divers with silver noses, for saying,  
There goes blackwill.  
I have cracked as many blades,  
As thou hast done Nuts,  Gre. 
O monstrous lie.  Will. 
Faith in a manner I have.  
The bawdy houses have paid me tribute,  
There durst not a whore set up, unless she have agreed  
with me first, fore-opening her shop windows.  
For a cross word of a Tapster,  
I have pierced one barrel after another, with my dagger,  
And held him by the ears till all his bear hath run out,  
In Thames street a brewer's cart was like to have run  
over me, I made no more ado, but went to the clerk  
and cut all the notches of his tallies,  
and beat them about his head.  
I and my company have taken the Constable from his watch,  
And carried him about the fields on a coltstaff.  
I have broken a sergeant's head with his own mace,  
And bailed whom I list with my sword and buckler.  
All the tenpenny alehouses would stand every morning,  
With a quart pot in his hand,  
Saying will it please your worship drink:  
He that had not done so had been sure to have had his  
sign pulled down, & his lattice borne away the next night  
To conclude, what have I not done yet cannot do this,  
Doubtless he is preserved by Miracle.  Here enters Ales and Michael. Gie. 
Hence Will, here comes M. Arden.  Ales. 
Ah gentle Michael art thou sure they're friends  Mic. 
Why I saw them when they both shook hands,  
When mosby bled, he even wept for sorrow:  
And railed on Franklin that was cause of all.  
No sooner came the surgeon in at doors,  
But my M. took to his purse, and gave him money.  
And to conclude, sent me to bring you word,  
That mosby, Franklin, Bradshaw, Adam fewle,  
With divers of his neighbours, and his friends,  
Will come and sup with you at our house this night.  Ales. 
Ah gentle Michael, run thou back again,  
And when my husband walks into the fair,  
Bid mosby steal from him, and come to me.  
And this night shall thou and Susan be made sure,  Mic. 
I'll go tell him.  Ales. 
And as thou goest, tell john cook of our guests,  
And bid him lay it on, spare for no cost. Exit Michael.  Wil. 
Nay and there be such cheer, we will bid ourselves  
Mistress Arden, Dick Green & I do mean to sup with you,  Ales. 
And welcome shall you be, ah gentlemen,  
How missed you of your purpose yesternight?  Gre. 
'twas long of shakebag that unlucky villain.  Sha. 
Thou dost me wrong, I did as much as any.  Wil. 
Nay, than M. Alice, I'll tell you how it was,  
When he should have locked with both his hilts,  
He to a bravery flourished over his head  
With that comes Franklin at him lustily  
And hurts the slave, with that he slinks away,  
Now his way had been to have come hand and feet,  
one and two round at his costard.  
He like a fool bears his sword point half a yard out  
of danger, I lie here for my life.  
If the devil come, and he have no more strength than sense  
He shall never beat me from this ward,  
I'll stand to it, a buckler in a skilful hand,  
Is as good as a castle.  
Nay 'tis better than a sconce, for I have tried it.  
mosby perceiving this, began to faint.  
With that comes Arden with his arming sword,  
And thrust him through the shoulder in a trice.  Ales. 
ay but I wonder why you both stood still.  Wil. 
Faith I was so amazed I could not strike.  Ales. 
Ah sirs had he yesternight been slain,  
For every drop of his detested blood,  
I would cram in Angels in thy fist.  
And kissed thee too, and hugged thee in my arms.  Wil. 
Patient yourself, we can not help it now,  
Green and we two, will dog him through the fair,  
And stab him in the crowd, and steal away,  Here enters Mosbye. Ales. 
It is unpossible, but here comes he,  
That will I hope invent some surer means.  
Sweet mosby hide thy arm, it kills my heart.  Mos. 
I mistress Arden, this is your favour,  Ales. 
Ah say not so for when I saw thee hurt,  
I could have taken the weapon thou lettest fall,  
And run at Arden, for I have sworn,  
That these mine eyes offended with his sight,  
Shall never close, till Arden's be shut up,  
This night I rose and walked about the chamber.  
And twice or thrice, I thought to have murdered him,  Mos. 
What in the night, then had we been undone,  Ales 
Why, how long shall he live?  Mos 
Faith Alice no longer than this night.  
Black Will and shakbag, will you two  
Perform the complot that I have laid.  Will. 
I or else think me as a villain.  Gre. 
And rather than you shall want,  
i'll help myself.  Mos. 
You M. Green shall single Franklin forth,  
And hold him with a long tale of strange news:  
That he may not come home till suppertime.  
I'll fetch M. Arden home, & we like friends.  
Will play a game or two at tables here,  Ales 
But what of all this?  
Now shall he be stain?  mosby 
Why black Will and shakebag locked within the countinghouse,  
Shall at a certain watchword given, rush forth,  Wil. 
What shall the watch word be?  Mos. 
(Now I take you) that shall be the word.  
But come not forth before in any case.  Wil. 
I warrant you, but who shall lock me in?  Ales. 
That will I do, thou'st keep the key thyself.  Mos. 
Come M. Green, go you along with me.  
See all things ready Alice against we come.  Ales. 
Take no care for that, send you him home. Exeunt mosby and green.  
And if he ere go forth again, blame me,  
Come black Will that in mine eyes art fair,  
Next unto mosby do I honour thee,  
Instead of fair words and large promises,  
My hands shall play you golden harmony,  
How like you this? say, will you do it sirs?  Will. 
I and that bravely too, mark my device.  
Place mosby being a stranger in a chair,  
And let your husband sit upon a stool,  
That I may come behind him cunningly,  
And with a towel pull him to the ground,  
Then stab him till his flesh be as a siue,  
That done bear him behind the Abbey,  
That those that find him murdered, may suppose  
Some slave or other killed him for his gold.  Ales. 
A fine device, you shall have twenty pound,  
And when he is dead, you shall have forty more.  
And lest you might be suspected staying here,  
Michael shall saddle you two lusty geldings.  
ride whether you will to Scotland or to Wales.  
I'll see you shall not lack, where ere you be.  Will 
Such words would make one kill 1000. men.  
Give me the key, which is the counting house?  Ales. 
Here would I stay, and still encourage you,  
But that I know how resolute you are.  Sha. 
Tush you are too faint hearted, we must do it.  Ales. 
But mosby will be there, whose very looks,  
Will add unwonted courage to my thought,  
And make me the first that shall adventure on him,  Wil. 
Tush get you gone, 'tis we must do the deed.  
When this door opens next look for his death  Ales. 
Ah, would he now were here, that it might open  
I shall no more be closed in Arden's arms,  
That like the snakes of black Tisiphone,  
Sting me with their embracings, Mosby's arms  
Shall compass me, and were I made a star,  
I would have none other spheres but those.  
There is no nectar, but in Mosby's lips,  
Had chaste Diana kissed him, she like me  
Would grow love sick, and from her watery bower,  
Fling down Endymion and snatch him up:  
Then blame not me, that slay a silly man,  
Not half so lovely as Endymion.  Here enters Michael. Mic. 
Mistress my master is coming hard by,  Ales. 
Who comes with him.  Mic. 
nobody but Mosby.  Ales. 
That's well Michael, fetch in the tables,  
And when thou hast done, stand before the countinghouse door.  Mic. 
Why so?  Ales. 
Black will is locked within, to do the deed.  Mic, 
What shall he die tonight?  Ales. 
I Michael.  Mic. 
But shall not susan know it?  Ales. 
Yes for she'll be as secret as ourselves.  Mic. 
That's brave, I'll go fetch the tables.  Ales. 
But Michael hark to me a word or two,  
When my husband is come in lock the street door:  
He shall be murdered ere the guests come in. Exit mic, Here enters Arden & mosby.  
Husband what mean you to bring mosby home?  
Although I wished you to be reconciled,  
'twas more for fear of you, than love of him,  
Black Will and Green, are his companions,  
And they are cutters, and may cut you short,  
Therefore I thought it good to make you friends.  
But wherefore do you bring him hither now,  
You have given me my supper with his sight,  Mos. 
M. Arden methinks your wife would have me gone.  Arden. 
No good M. mosby, women will be prating,  
Alice bid him welcome, he and I are friends.  Ales 
You may enforce me to it, if you will.  
But I had rather die than bid him welcome,  
His company hath purchased me ill friends.  
And therefore will I near frequent it more.  Mos. 
Oh how cunningly she can dissemble.  Ard. 
Now he is here you will not serve me so.  Ales. 
I pray you be not angry or displeased  
I'll bid him welcome seeing you'll have it so,  
You are welcome M. mosby will you sit down.  Mos. 
I know I am welcome to your loving husband,  
But for yourself, you speak not from your heart.  Ales. 
And if I do not, sir think I have cause.  Mos. 
Pardon me M. Arden, I'll away.  Ard. 
No good M. mosby.  Ales. 
We shall have guests enough, though you go hence  Mos. 
I pray you M. Arden let me go  Ard. 
I pray thee mosby let her prate her fill,  Ale. 
The doors are open sir, you may be gone.  Mic. 
Nay that's a lie, for I have locked the doors.  Ard. 
Sirrah fetch me a cup of Wine.  
I'll make them friends.  
And gentle M. Alice, seeing you are so stout,  
You shall begin, frown not, I'll have it so.  Ales 
I pray you meddle with that you have to do.  Ard. 
Why Alice? how can I do too much for him,  
Whose life I have endangered without cause.  Ale. 
'tis true, & seeing 'twas partly through my means  
I am content to drink to him for this once.  
Here M. mosby, and I pray you hence forth,  
Be you as strange to me, as I to you  
Your company hath purchased me ill friends.  
And I for you God knows, have undeserved  
Been ill spoken of in every place.  
Therefore henceforth frequent my house no more.  Mos. 
I'll see your husband in despite of you,  
Yet Arden I protest to thee by heaven,  
Thou near shalt see me more, after this night.  
I'll go to room rather than be forsworn.  Ar. 
Tush I'll have no such vows made in my house.  Ales. 
Yes I pray you husband let him swear,  
And on that condition mosby pledge me here.  Mos. 
I as willingly as I mean to live.  Ard. 
Come Alice, is our supper ready yet?  Ales. 
It will by then you have played a game at tables,  Ard. 
Come M. mosby, what shall we play for?  Mos. 
three games for a french crown sir,  
And please you.  Ard. 
Content.  Then they play at the Tables. Will 
Can he not take him yet? what a spite is that?  Ales 
Not yet Will, take heed he see thee not?  Wil. 
I fear he will spy me, as I am coming,  Mic. 
To prevent that, creep betwixt my legs  Mos. 
One ace, or else I lose the game.  Ard. 
marry sir there's two for failing.  Mos. 
Ah M. Arden (now I can take you)  Then Will pulls him down with a towel Ard. 
mosby, Michael, Alice, what will you do?  Will 
Nothing but take you up sir, nothing else.  Mos. 
there's for the pressing Iron you told me of.  Sha. 
And there's for the ten pound in my sleeve,  Ales. 
What, groans thou? nay then give me the weapon,  
Take this for hindering Mosby's love and mine.  Michael. 
O Mistress.  Will 
Ah that villain will betray us all,  Mos. 
Tush fear him not, he will be secret,  Mic. 
Why dost thou think I will betray myself?  Sha. 
In Southwark dwells a bonny northern lass,  
The widow Chambley, i'll to her house now,  
And if she will not give me harborough,  
I'll make booty of the quean even to her smock.  Will. 
Shift for yourselves we two will leave you now  Ales. 
First lay the body in the countinghouse.  Then they lay the body in the Countinghouse. Will. 
We have our gold mistress Alice, adieu,  
mosby farewell, and Michael farewell too. Exeunt  Enter Susan. Susan. 
Mistress, the guests are at the doors.  
Hearken they knock, what shall I let them in?  Ales. 
mosby go thou & bear them company. Exit. M.  
And susan fetch water and wash away this blood,  Susan. 
The blood cleaveth to the ground & will not out  Ales. 
But with my nails i'll scrape away the blood,  
The more I strive the more the blood appears:  Susan. 
What's the reason M. can you tell?  Ales. 
Because I blush not at my husband's death.  Here enters mosby. Mos. 
How now, what's the matter? is all well?  Ale. 
I well, if Arden were alive again.  
In vain we strive, for here his blood remains,  Mos. 
Why strew rushes on it, can you not,  
This wench doth nothing fall unto the work.  Ales. 
'twas thou that made me murder him,  Mos. 
What of that?  Ales. 
Nay nothing mosby so it be not known.  Mos. 
Keep thou it close, and 'tis unpossible,  Ales. 
Ah but I can not, was he not slain by me,  
My husband's death torments me at the heart.  Mos. 
It shall not long torment thee gentle Alice,  
I am thy husband, think no more of him.  Here enters Adam foul and Brad, Brad. 
Now now M. Arden? what ail you weep?  Mos. 
Because her husband is abroad so late.  
A couple of Ruffians threatened him yesternight,  
And she poor soul is afraid he should be hurt.  Adam 
be't nothing else? tush he'll be here anon.  Here enters green. Gre. 
Now M. Arden lack you any guests.  Ales. 
Ah M. Green, did you see my husband lately,  Gre. 
I saw him walking behind the Abbey even now,  Here enters Franklin. Ales. 
I do not like this being out so late,  
M. Franklin where did you leave my husband.  Fra. 
Believe me I saw him not since Morning,  
Fear you not he'll come anon, meantime  
You may do well to bid his guests sit down.  Ales. 
I so they shall, M. Bradshaw sit you there,  
I pray you be content, I'll have my will.  
M. mosby sit you in my husband's seat.  Michael 
Susan shall thou and I wait on them,  
Or and thou saith the word let us sit down too.  Su. 
Peace we have other matters now in hand.  
I fear me Michael all willbe bewrayed.  Mic. 
Tush so it be known that I shall marry thee in the  
Morning, I care not though I be hanged ere night.  
But to prevent the worst, I'll buy some ratsbane.  Su. 
Why Michael wilt thou poison thyself?  Mic. 
No, but my mistress, for I fear she'll tell.  Su. 
Tush Michel fear not her, she's wise enough.  Mos. 
Sirrah Michell gives a cup of bear.  
M. Arden, here's to your husband.  Ales. 
My husband?  Fra. 
What ails you woman, to cry so suddenly.  Ales. 
Ah neighbours a sudden qualm came over my heart  
My husbands being forth torments my mind.  
I know some thing's amiss, he is not well.  
Or else I should have heard of him ere now.  Mo. 
She will undo us, through her foolishness.  Gre. 
Fear not M. Arden, he's well enough.  Ales. 
Tell not me, I know he is not well,  
He was not wont for to stay thus late.  
Good M. Franklin go and seek him forth,  
And if you find him send him home to me.  
And tell him what a fear he hath put me in.  Fra. 
I like not this, I pray God all be well Exeunt Fra. Mos. & Gre.  
I'll seek him out, and find him if I can.  Ales. 
Michael how shall I do to rid the rest away?  Mic. 
Leave that to my charge, let me alone,  
'tis very late M. Bradshaw,  
And there are many false knaves abroad,  
And you have many narrow lanes to pass.  Brad. 
Faith friend Michael and thou sayest true,  
Therefore I pray thee light's forth, and lends a link  Exeunt Brad, Adam, & Michael. Ales. 
Michael bring them to the doors, but do not stay,  
You know I do not love to be alone.  
Go Susan and bid thy brother come,  
But wherefore should he come? Here is nought but fear.  
Stay Susan stay, and help to counsel me.  Susan. 
Alas I counsel, fear frights away my wits,  Then they open the countinghouse door, and look upon Arden. Ales. 
See Susan where thy quandam Master lies,  
Sweet Arden smeared in blood and filthy gore.  Susan. 
My brother, you, and I, shall rue this deed.  Ales 
Come susan help to lift his body forth,  
And let our salt tears be his obsequies.  Here enters mosby and green. Mos. 
Now now Alice whether will you bear him  Ales. 
Sweet mosby art thou come?  
Then weep that will.  
I have my wish in that I joy thy sight.  Gre. 
Well it hoves us to be circumspect.  Mos. 
I for Franklin thinks that we have murdered him.  Ales. 
ay but he can not prove it for his life,  
We'll spend this night in dalliance and in sport.  Here enters Michael Mic. 
O mistress the Maior and all the watch,  
Are coming towards our house with glaives & bills.  Ales. 
Make the door fast, let them not come in,  Mos. 
Tell me sweet Alice how shall I escape?  Ales. 
Out at the back door, over the pile of wood.  
And for one night lie at the fleur-de-lys,  Mos. 
That is the next way to betray myself.  Gre. 
Alas M. Arden the watch will take me here,  
And cause suspicion, where else would be none.  Ales 
Why take that way that M. mosby doth,  
But first convey the body to the fields.  Then they bear the body into the fields Mos. 
Until tomorrow, sweet Alice now farewell,  
And see you confess nothing in any case.  Gre. 
Be resolute M. Alice, betray us not,  
But cleave to us as we will stick to you,  Exeunt mosby & Grene. Ales 
Now let the judge and juries do their worst,  
My house is clear, and now I fear them not.  Susan 
As we went it snowed all the way,  
Which makes me fear, our footsteps will be spied.  Ales 
Peace fool, the snow will cover them again.  Susan 
But it had done before we came back again.  Ales 
Hark hark, they knock,  
go Michael let them in. Here enters the Maior and the Watch.  
How now M. Maior, have you brought my husband home  Maior, 
I saw him come into your house an hour ago  Ales. 
You are deceived, it was a Londoner,  Maior 
Mistress Arden know you not one that is called black Will.  Ales 
I know none such, what mean these questions  Maior. 
I have the counsels warrant to apprehend him  Ales. 
I am glad it is no worse.  
Why M. maior think you I harbour any such?  Ma. 
We are informed that here he is.  
And therefore pardon us, for we must search.  Ales 
I search and spare you not, through every room,  
Were my husband at home, you would not offer this, Here enters Franklin.  
M. Franklin what mean you come so sad.  Fra. 
Arden thy husband, and my friend, is slain,  Ales. 
Ah, by whom? M. Franklin can you tell?  Fra. 
I know not, but behind the abbey,  
There he lies murdered in most piteous case,  Mai. 
But M. Franklin are you sure 'tis he,  Fra. 
I am too sure, would God I were deceived.  Ales. 
Find out the Murderers let them be known,  Fran. 
I so they shall, come you along with us.  Ales. 
Wherefore?  Fran. 
know you this handtowel and this knife?  Su. 
Ah michael through this thy negligence.  
Thou hast betrayed and undone us all.  Mic. 
I was so afraid, I knew not what I did,  
I thought I had thrown them both into the well.  Ales. 
It is the pig's blood we had to supper.  
But wherefore stay you? find out the murderers.  Ma. 
I fear me you'll prove one of them yourself.  Ale. 
I one of them, what mean such questions.  Fra. 
I fear me he was murdered in this house.  
And carried to the fields, for from that place,  
Backwards and forwards may you see,  
The print of many feet within the snow,  
And look about this chamber where we are,  
And you shall find part of his guiltless blood,  
For in his slipshoe did I find some rushes.  
Which argueth he was murdered in this room.  Ma. 
Look in the place where he was wont to sit.  
Sèe see his blood it is too manifest,  Ales 
It is a cup of Wine that Michael shed.  Mic. 
I truly.  Fran. 
It is his blood, which strumpet thou hast shed,  
But if I live thou and thy complices,  
Which have conspired and wrought his death,  
Shall rue it.  Ales 
Ah M. Franklin God and heaven can tell,  
I loved him more than all the world beside.  
But bring me to him let me see his body.  Fra. 
Bring that villain and Mosby's sister too,  
And one of you go to the fleur-de-lys.  
And seek for mosby, and apprehend him to. Exeunt  Here enters shakebag solus. Sh. 
The widow chambly in her husband's days I kept  
And now he's dead, she is grown so stout  
She will not know her old companions,  
I came thither thinking to have had  
Harbour as I was wont  
And she was ready to thrust me out at doors,  
But whether she would or no, I got me up,  
And as she followed me I spurned her down the stairs,  
And broke her neck, and cut her tapster's throat,  
And now I am going to fling them in the Thames,  
I have the gold, what care I though it be known?  
I'll cross the water and take sanctuary.  Exit shakbag. Here enters the Maior, mosby. Ales, Franklin, Michael and Susan. Maior 
See M. Arden where your husband lies.  
Confess this foul fault and be penitent.  Ales 
Arden sweet husband, what shall I say?  
The more I sound his name, the more he bleeds.  
This blood condemns me, and in gushing forth  
Speaks as it falls, and asks me why I did it,  
Forgive me Arden, I repent me now,  
And would my death save thine, thou shouldst not die,  
Rise up sweet Arden and enjoy thy love.  
And frown not on me when we meet in heaven,  
In heaven I love thee, though on earth I did not,  Maior 
Say Mosby what made thee murder him,  Fra. 
Study not for an answer, look not down  
His purse and girdle found at thy bed's head,  
Witness sufficiently thou didst the deed.  
It bootless is to swear thou didst it not,  Mos. 
I hired black Will and Shakbag, ruffians both,  
And they and I have done this murderous deed,  
But wherefore stay we?  
Come and bear me hence.  Fran. 
Those Ruffians shall not escape,  
I will up to London, and get the counsels warrant to apprehend them. Exeunt.  Here enters Will. Will. 
Shakebag I hear hath taken sanctuary,  
But I am so pursued with hues and cries,  
For petty robberies that I have done,  
That I can come unto no Sanctuary.  
Therefore must I in some Oyster boat,  
At last, be feign to go aboard some Hoy.  
And so to Flushing there is no staying here,  
At Sittinburgh the watch was like to take me.  
And had I not with my buckler covered my head,  
And run full blank, at all adventures,  
I am sure I had near gone further than that place,  
For the Constable had 20 warrants to apprehend me,  
Besides that, I robbed him and his Man once at Gades hill,  
Farewell England, I'll to Flushing now. Exit Will.  Here enters the Maior, Mosbye, Ales, Michael, Susan, and Bradshaw. Maior. 
Come make haste & bring away the prisoners.  Brad. 
M. Arden you are now going to God,  
And I am by the law condemned to die.  
About a letter I brought from M. Grèene,  
I pray you M. Arden speak the truth,  
Was I ever privy to your intent or no?  Ales 
What should I say?  
You brought me such a letter.  
But I dare swear thou knewest not the contents.  
Leave now to trouble me with worldly things.  
And let me meditate upon my saviour Christ,  
Whose blood must save me for the blood I shed,  Mos. 
How long shall I live in this hell of grief?  
Convey me from the presence of that strumpet.  Ales. 
Ah but for thee I had never been strumpet  
What can not oaths and protestations do?  
When men have opportunity to woo.  
I was too young to sound thy villainies.  
But now I find it, and repent too late.  Su. 
Ah gentle brother, wherefore should I die.  
I knew not of it, till the deed was done.  Mos. 
For thee I mourn more than for myself,  
But let it suffice, I can not save thee now,  Mic. 
And if your brother and my Mistress.  
Had not promised me you in marriage,  
I had near given consent, to this foul deed.  Maior 
Leave to accuse each other now,  
And listen to the sentence I shall give.  
Bear mosby and his sister to London straight,  
Where they in smithfield must be executed.  
Bear M. Arden unto Canterbury,  
Where her sentence is she must be burnt.  
Michael and Bradshaw in Feversham  
must suffer death.  Ales 
Let my death make amends for all my sins,  Mos. 
Fie upon women, this shall be my song,  
But bear me hence, for I have lived too long.  Susan 
Seeing no hope on earth, in heaven is my hope.  Mic. 
Faith I care not seeing I die with Susan.  Brad. 
My blood be on his head that gave the sentence,  Maior 
To speedy execution with them all. Exeunt  Here enters Franklin. Fran. 
Thus have you seen the truth of Arden's death  
As for the Ruffians, Shakbag and black Will,  
The one took Sanctuary, and being sent for out.  
Was murdered in Southwark, as he passed  
To Greenwich, where the Lord Protector lay.  
Black Will was burnt in flushing on a stage.  
Grèene was hanged at Osbridge in Kent.  
The Painter fled, & how he died we know not.  
But this above the rest is to be noted,  
Arden lay murdered in that plot of ground,  
Which he by force and violence held from reed.  
And in the grass his bodies print was seen,  
Two years and more after the deed was done  
Gentlemen we hope you'll pardon this naked Tragedy,  
Wherein no filed points are foisted in,  
To make it gracious to the ear or eye.  
For simple trust is gracious enough:  
And needs no other points of glozing stuff.  
FINIS.