The lamentable and true tragedie of M. Arden of Feuersham in Kent Who was most wickedlye murdered, by the meanes of his disloyall and wanton wyfe, who for the loue she bare to one Mosbie, hyred two desperat ruffins Blackwill and Shakbag, to kill him. VVherin is shewed the great malice and discimulation of a wicked woman, the vnsatiable desire of filthie lust and the shamefull end of all murderers. — Arden of Feversham.

1592

THE LAMENTABLE AND TRVE TRAGEDIE OF M. ARDEN OF FEVERSHAM IN KENT. Who was most wickedlye murdered, by the meanes of his disloyall and wanton wyfe, who for the love she bare to one Mosbie, hyred two desperat ruffins Blackwill and Shakbag, to kill him. Wherin is shewed the great mallice and discimulation of a wicked woman, the vnsatiable desire of filthie lust and the shamefull end of all murderers.

Imprinted at London for Edward White, dwelling at the lyttle North dore of Paules Church at the signe of the Gun, 1592.

[Page]

The Tragedy of M. Arden of Feueshame.

(Enter Arden, and Francklin)

Franklin

ARden chéere vp thy spirits and droup no more

My gratious Lord y^e Duke of Sommerset;

Hath frely giuen to thee and to thy heyres,

By letters patents from his Maiesty:

All the lands of the Abby of Feuershame.

Heer are the deedes sealed & subscribed w^t his name and the kings,

Read them, and leaue this melancholy moode

Arden.

Francklin thy loue prolongs my weary lyfe,

And but for thee, how odious were this lyfe:

That showes me nothing but torments my soule,

And those foule obiects that offend myne eies,

Which makes me wish that for this vale of Heauen,

The earth hung ouer my heede and couerd mee.

Loue letters past twixt Mosbie and my Wyfe,

And they haue preuie méetings in the Towne:

Nay on his finger did I spy the Ring,

Which at our Marriage day the Preest put on,

Can any greefe be halfe so great as this?

Fran.

Comfort thy selfe sweete freend it is not strange,

That women will be false and wauering.

Arden.

I but to doat on such a one as hée

Is monstrous Francklin, and intollerable.

Francklin.

Why, what is he?

Arden.

A Botcher and no better at the first,

Who by base brocage, getting some small stock:

Crept into seruice of a noble man:

And by his seruile flattery and fawning,

Is now become the steward of his house,

And brauely sets it in his silken gowne.

Fran.

No noble man will countnaunce such a pesant,

Arden.

Yes, the Lord Clifford, he that loues not mee,

But through his fauour let not him grow proude,

For were he by the Lord Protector backt,

He should not make me to be pointed at,

I am by birth a gentle man of bloode,

[Page]And that iniurious riball that attempts,

To vyolate my deare wyues chastitie,

(For deare I holde hir loue, as deare as heauen)

Shall on the bed which he thinks to defile,

See his disseuered ioints and sinewes torne,

Whylst on the planchers, pants his weary body,

Smeard in the channels of his lustfull bloode.

Fran.

Be patient gentle freend and learne of me,

To ease thy griefe, and saue her chastitye:

Intreat her faire sweete words are fittest engines

To race the flint walles of a womans breast:

In any case be not too Ielyouse,

Nor make no question of her loue to thee,

But as securely, presently take horse,

And ly with me at London all this tearme

For women when they may, will not,

But beeing kept back, straight grow outragious.

Arden.

Though this abhorres from reason yet ile try it

And call her foorth, and presently take leaue: How Ales,

Heere entes ales.

Ales.

Husband what meane you to get vp so earely.

Sommer nights are short, and yet yo ryse ere day,

Had I beene wake you had not rise so soone,

Ard.

Sweet loue thou knowst that we two Ouid like

Have often chid the morning, when it gan to peepe,

And often wisht that darke nights purblind steedes,

Would pull her by the purple mantle back:

And cast her in the Ocean to her loue.

But this night sweete Ales thou hast kild my hart,

I heard thee cal on Mosbie in thy sleepe.

Ales.

Tis lyke I was a sleepe when I nam'd him,

For beeing awake he comes not in my thoughts:

Arden.

I but you started vp, and suddenly

In steede of him: caught me about the necke.

Ales.

In steede of him? why, who was there but you,

And where but one is, how can I mistake.

[Page] Fran.

Arden leaue to vrdge her ouer farre.

Arden.

Nay loue there is no credit in a dreame,

Let it suffice I know thou louest me well.

Ales.

Now I remember where vpon it came,

Had we no talke of Mosbie yesternight.

Fra.

Mistres Ales I hard 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 passe,

I must to London sweete Ales presently.

Ales.

But tell me do you meane to stay there long?

Arden.

No longer there till my affaires be done,

Fran.

He will not stay above a month at most.

Ales.

A moneth aye me, sweete Arden come againe

Within a day or two, or els I die.

Arden.

I cannot long be from thee gentle Ales,

Whilest, Michel fetch our horses from the field,

Franklin and I will down vnto the key:

For I have certaine goods there to vnload,

Meanewhile prepare our breakfast gentle Ales,

For yet ere noone wele take horse and away,

Exeunt Arden, & Francklin.

Ales.

Ere noone he meanes to take horse and away:

Sweete newes is this, Oh that some ayrie spirit,

Would in the shape and liknes of a horse

Gallope with Arden crosse the Ocean,

And throw him from his backe into the waues.

Sweete Mosbie is the man that hath my hart:

And he vsurpes it, hauing nought but this,

That I am tyed to him by marriage.

Loue is a God and mariage is but words,

And therefore Mosbies title is the best,

Tushe whether it be or no, he shall be mine,

In spight of him, of Hymen and of rytes.

Here enters Adam of the Flourdeluce.

And here comes Adam of the flourdeluce,

I hope he brings me tydings of my loue.

[Page]Now now Adam, what is the newes with you?

Be not affraid my husband is now from home.

Adam.

He whome you wot of Mosbie Mistres Ales,

Is come to towne, and sends you word by mee,

In any case you may not visit him.

Ales.

Not visit him?

Adam.

No nor take no knowledge of his béeing haere

Ales.

But tell me is he angree or displeased.

Adam.

Should seeme so for he is wondrous sad.

Ales.

Were he as mad as rauing Hercules,

Ile see him, I and were thy house of force.

These hands of mine should race it to the ground:

[...]iles that thou would't bring me to my loue.

Adam.

Nay and you be so impatient Ile be gone

Ales.

Stay Adam, stay, thou wert wont to be my fr̄d

Aske Mosbie how I have incurred his wrath,

Beare him from me these paire of silver dice:

With which we plaid for kisses manya t [...]me,

And when I lost, I wan, and so did hée:

Such winning and such losing, Ieue send me,

And bid him if his loue doo not decline,

Come this morning but along my dore:

And as a stranger, but salute me there,

This may he doo without suspect or feare.

Adam.

Ile tell him what you say, and so farewell.

Exit Adam.

Ales.

Doo, and one day Ile make amends for all:

I know he loues me well, but dares not come,

Because my husband is so Ielious:

And these my marrow prying neighbours blab,

Hinder our meetings when we would conferre.

But if I live that block shall be removed,

And Mosbie, thou that comes to me by stelth

shalt neither feare the biting speach of men,

Nor Ardens lookes, as surely shall he die,

as I abhorre him, and loue onely thée.

[Page] Here enters Michaell.

Now now Michaell, whether are you going?

Michael.

To fetch my masters nagge,

I hope youle thinke on mee.

Ales.

I But Michaell sée you keepe your oath,

And be as secret, as you are resolute.

Michaell.

Ile see he shall not liue aboue a weeke.

Ales.

On that condition Michaell here is my hand

None shall haue Mosbies sister but thy selfe.

Michaell.

I understand the Painter heere hard by,

Hath made reporte that he and Sue is sure.

Ales.

There's no such matter Michaell beleeve it not,

Michael.

But he hath sent a dagger sticking in a hart,

With a verse or two stollen from a painted cloath:

The which I heere the wench kéepes in her chest,

Well let her kepe it, I shall finde a fellow

That can both write and read, and make rime too,

And if I doo, well, I say no more:

Ile send from London such a taunting letter,

As shall eat the hart he sent with salt,

And sling the dagger at the Painters head.

Ales.

What needes all this, I say that Susan's thine

Michaell.

Why then I say that I will kill my master

Or any thing that you will haue me doo.

Ales.

But Michaell see you doo it cunningly.

Michaell.

Why, say I should be tooke, ile nere confesse,

That you know any thing, and Susan being a Maide,

May begge me from the gallous of the Shriefe.

Ales.

Truste not to that Michaell.

Michaell.

You can not tell me, I haue seene it I,

But mistres tell her whether I liue or die.

Ile make her more woorth then twenty Painters can,

For I will rid myne elder brother away:

And then the farme of Bolton is mine owne.

Who would not venture vpon house and land?

When he may haue it for a right downe blowe.

[Page] Here enters Mosbie.

Ales.

Yonder comes Mosbie, Michaell get thee gone,

And let not him nor any knowe thy drifts.

Exit Michaell.

Mosbie my loue,

Mosbie,

Away I say, and talke not to me now.

Ales.

A word or two sweete hart, and then I will,

Tis yet but early daies, thou needest not feare.

Mosbie.

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 solemne oathes?

Is this the frute thy reconcilement buds?

Have I for this giuen thée so many fauours.

Incurd my husbands hate, and out alas,

Made shipwrack of myne honour for thy sake,

And doest thou say hence forward know me not?

Remember when I lockt the in my closet,

What were thy words and mine, did we not both

Decree, to murder Arden in the night.

The heauens can witnes, and the world can tell,

Before I saw that falshoode looke of thine,

Fore I was tangled with thy tysing speach.

Arden to me was dearer then my soule,

And shall be still, base pesant get thée gone.

And boast not of thy conquest ouer me,

Gotten by witch-craft, and méere sorcery.

For what hast thou to countenaunce my loue,

béeing discended of a noble house,

And matcht already with a gentleman,

Whose seruant thou maist be, and so farewell.

Mos.

Ungentle and vnkinde Ales, now I sée

That which I ever feard, and finde too trew:

A womans loue is as the lightning flame,

Which euen in bursting forth consumes it selfe,

To trye thy constancie haue I béene strange,

[Page]Would I had neuer tryed, but liued in hope.

Ales.

What needs thou try me, whom thou neuer found false

Mos.

Yet pardon me for loue is Ielious,

Ales.

So list the Sailer to the Marmaids song,

So lookes the trauellour to the Baūliske,

I am content for to be reconcilde,

And that I know will be mine overthrow.

Mos.

Thine ouerthrow? first let the world dissolue,

Ales.

Nay Mosbie let me still inioye thy loue,

And happen what will, I am resolute,

My sauing husband hoordes vp bagges of gould,

To make our children rich, and now is hee

Gone to vnload the goods that shall be thine,

And he and Francklin will to London straight.

Mos.

To London Ales, if thoult be rulde by mée,

Weele make him sure enough for comming there.

Ales.

Ah, would we could.

Mos.

I happend on a Painter yesternight,

The onely cunning man of Christendoome:

For he can temper poyson with his oyle,

That who so lookes vpon the worke he drawes,

Shall with the beames that issue from his sight,

Suck venomme to his breast and slay him selfe,

Sweete Ales he shall draw thy counterfet,

That Arden may by gaizing on it perish

Ales.

I but Mosbie that is dangerous,

For thou or I, or any other els,

Comming into the Chamber where it hangs, may die.

Mos.

I but weele haue it couered with a cloath,

And hung vp in the studie for himselfe.

Ales.

It may not be, for when the pictur's drawne,

Arden I know will come and shew it me.

Mos.

Feare not weele haue that shall serue the turne,

This is the painters house Ile call him foorth,

Ales.

But Mosbie Ile have no such picture I:

Mos.

I pray thoe leaue it to my discretion. Now, Clarke

[Page] Here enters Clarke.

O you are an honest man of your word, you serud me wel,

Clark.

Why sir ile do it for you at any time,

Prouided as you haue giuen your worde,

I may haue Susan Mosbie to my wife:

For as sharpe witted Poets, whose sweete verse

Make heauenly gods break of their Nector draughts,

And lay their eares down to the lowly earth:

Use humble promise to their sacred Muse,

So we that are the Poets fauorite,

Must haue a loue, I, Loue is the Painters Muse.

That makes him frame a speaking countenaunce.

A weeping eye that witnesses hartes griefe,

Then tell me Master Mosbie shall I haue hir?

Ales.

Tis pittie but he should, heele vse her well.

Mosbie

Clarke héers my hand my sister shall be thine,

Cla.

Then brother to requite this curtesie,

You shall command my lyfe my skill and all.

Ales.

Ah that thou couldst be secret,

Mosbie.

Feare him not, leaue, I have talkt sufficient,

Cla.

You know not me, that ask such questions:

Let it suffice, I know you loue him well,

And faine would haue your husband made away:

Wherein trust me you shew a noble minde,

That rather then youle liue with him you hate,

Youle venture lyfe, and die with him you loue,

The like will I do for my Susans sake.

Ales.

Yet nothing could inforce me to the deed,

But Mosbies loue, might I without controll,

Injoy thee still, then Arden should not die:

But seeing I cannot, therefore let him die.

Mos.

Enough sweete Ales, thy kinde words makes me melt,

Your tricke of poysoned pictures we dislyke,

Some other poyson would do better farre.

Ales.

I such as might be put into his broth,

And, yet in taste not to be found at all,

[Page] Clarke.

I know your minde, and here I haue it for you,

Put but a dram of this into his drinke,

Or any kinde of broth that he shall eat:

And he shall die within an houre after.

Ales.

As I am a gentle woman Clarke, next day

Thou and Susan shall be maried.

Mos.

And ile mak her dowry more thē ile talk of Clark,

Clarke.

Yonder's your husband, Mosbie ile be gone.

Here enters Arden and Francklin.

Ales.

In good time, sée where my husband comes,

Maister Mosbie aske him the question your selfe.

Exit Clarke.

Mos.

Maister Arden, being at London yester night,

The Abby lands whereof you are now possest,

Were offred me on some occasion,

By Greene one of sir Antony Agers men:

I pray you sir tell me, are not the lands yours?

Hath any other in [...]rest herein?

Arden.

Mosby [...]at question wele decyde anon,

Ales make ready my [...]ekfast, I must hence.

Exit Ales.

As for the lands mosbie they are mine,

By letters patents from his Maiesty:

But I must haue a Mandat for my wyfe,

They say you seeke to robbe me of her loue,

Villaine what makes thou in her company,

Shées no companion for so base a groome.

Mosbie

Arden I thought not on her, I came to thée,

But rather then I pocket vp this wrong.

Francklin.

What will you doo sir?

Mos.

Reuenge it on the proudest of you both:

Then Arden drawes forth Mosbies sword.

Arden.

So sirha, you may not weare a sword,

The statute makes against artificers,

I warrand that I doo, now vse your bodkin,

Your spanish needle, and your pressing Iron,

[Page]For this shall go with me, and marke my words,

You goodman botcher, tis to you I speake,

The next time that I take thee neare my house,

In steede of Legs Ile make thee crall on stumps.

Mos.

Ah maister Arden you have inturde mée,

I doo appeale to God, and to the world.

Fran.

Why canst thou deny, thou wert a botcher once,

Mos.

Measure me what I am, not what I was.

Ar.

Why what art thou now, but a Veluet drudge,

A cheating steward, and base minded pesant.

Mos.

Arden now thou hast belcht and vomited,

The rancorous venome of thy mis-swolne hart,

Heare me but speake, as I intend to liue

With God, and his elected saints in heauen,

I neuer meant more to solicit her,

And that she knowes, and all the world shall sée,

I loued her once, sweete Arden pardon me.

I could not chuse, her beauty fyred my hearte,

But time hath quench't these ouerraging coles,

And Arden though I now frequent thy house,

Tis for my sisters sake, her waiting maid

And not for hers, maiest thou enioy her long:

Hell fyze and wrathfull vengeance light on me,

If I dishonor her or iniure thée.

Ard.

Mosbie with these thy protestations,

The deadly hatred of my hart is appealed,

And thou and Ile be freends, if this proue trew.

As for the base tearmes I gaue thee late,

Forget them Mosbie, I had cause to speake:

When all the Knights and gentlemen of Kent,

Make common table talke of her and thée.

Mos.

Who liues that is not toucht with staunderous tongues,

Fra.

Then Mosbie, to eschew the speache of men,

Upon whose generall brute all honor hangs,

Forbeare his house.

Ard.

Forbeare it, nay rather frequent it more.

[Page]The worlde shall see that I distrust her not,

To warne him on the sudden from my house,

Were too confirme the rumour that is growne.

Mos.

By faith my sir you say trew,

And therefore will I soiourne here a while,

Untill our enemies haue talkt their fill.

And then I hope theile cease, and at last confesse,

How causeles they haue inturde her and me.

Ard.

And I will ly at London all this tearme,

To let them see how light I wey their words.

Here enters Ales.

Ales.

Husband sit down, your brekfast will be could,

Ard.

Come M. Mosbie will you sit with vs,

Mos.

I can not eat, but ile sit for company.

Ard.

Sirra Michaell see our horse be ready.

Ales.

Husband why pause ye, why eat you not,

Ard.

I am not well, thers something in this broth

That is not holesome, didst thou make it Ales?

Ales.

I did, and thats the cause it likes not you,

Then she throwes down the broth on the grounde.

Thers nothing that I do can please your taste.

You were best to say I would haue poysoned you,

I cannot speak or cast aside my eye:

But he Imagines, I have stept awry.

Heres he that you cast in my teeth so oft,

Now will I be conuinced, or purge my selfe,

I charge thee speake to this mistrustfull man,

Thou that wouldst see me hange, thou M of bye thou,

What fauour hast thou had more then a kisse

At comming or departing from the Towne?

Mos.

You wrong your selfe and me, to cast these douts

Your louing husband is not Ielious.

Ard.

Why gentle mistres Ales, cannot I be ill,

But youle accuse your selfe.

Franckline thou haste a boxe of Methridate,

[Page]Ile take a lytle to preuent the worst.

Fran.

Do so, and let vs presently take horse,

My lyfe for yours ye shall do well enough.

Ales.

Giue me a spoone, I le eat of it my selfe,

Would it were full of poyson to the brim.

Then should my cares and troubles haue an end,

Was euer silly woman so tormented?

Arden.

Be patient sweete loue, I mistrust not thée,

Ales.

God will reuenge it Arden if thou doest.

For neuer woman lou'd her husband better, thē I do thee,

Ard.

I know it sweete Ales, cease to complaine:

Least that in feares I answer thee againe.

Fran.

Come leaue this dallying, and let vs away.

Ales.

Forbeare to wound me with that bitter word,

Arden shall go to London in my armes.

Arden.

Loth am I to depart, yet I must go,

Ales.

Wilt thou to London then, and leaue me here,

Ah if thou loue me gentle Arden stay,

Yet if thy busines be of great Import

Go if thou wilt Ile beare it as I may.

But write from London to me euery weeke,

Nay euery day, and stay no longer there

Then thou must nedes, least that I die for sorrow.

Arden.

Ile write vnto thee euery other side,

And so farewell sweete Ales till we meete next.

Ales.

Farewell Husbaud seeing youle haue it so.

And M, Francklin, seeing you take him hence,

In hope youle hasten him home Ile give you this

and then she kisseth him.

Fran.

And if he stay the fault shall not be mine,

Mosbie farewell and see you kéepe your oath.

Mosbie

I hope he is not Ielious of me now.

Arden.

No Mosbie no, hereafter thinke of me,

As of your dearest frend, and so farewell.

Exeunt Arden, Franklin, & Michaell.

Ales.

I am glad he is gone, he was about to stay.

[Page]But did you marke me then how I brake of?

Mosbie.

I Ales, and it was cunningly performed,

But what a villaine is this painter Clarke?

Ales.

Was it not a goodly poyson that he gaue?

Why he's as well now, as he was before.

It should haue bene some fine confection,

That might haue giuen the broth some daintie tasty,

This powder was to grosse and populos.

Mosbie

But had he eaten but thrée spoonefulles more,

Then had he died, and our loue continued.

Ales.

Why so it shall Mosbie, albeit he liue,

Mosbie.

It is vnpossible, for I haue sworne,

Neuer hereafter to solicite thee,

Or whylest he liues, once more importune thée.

Ales.

Thou shalt not neede I will importune thée.

What shall an oath make thee forsake my loue?

As if I haue not sworne as much my selfe,

And giuen my hand vnto him in the church,

Tush Mosbie oathes are wordes, and words is winde,

And winde is mutable: then I conclude,

Tis childishnes to stand vpon an oath,

Mos.

Well proued Mistres Ales, yet by your leaue,

Ile keep mine vnbroken, whilest he liues.

Ales.

I doo, and spare not his time is but short,

For if thou beest as resolute as I,

Weele haue him murdered, as he walkes the stréets:

In London many alehouse Ruffins kéepe,

Which as I heare will murther men for gould,

They shall be soundly fed, to pay him home:

Here enters Greene.

Mos.

Ales whats he that comes yonder, knowest thou him

Ales.

Mosbie be gone, I hope tis one that comes

To put in practise our intended drifts,

Exit Mosbie.

Gre.

Mistres Arden you are well met,

I am sorry that your husband is from home,

[Page]When as my purposed iourney was to him,

Yet all my labour is not spent in vaine:

For I suppose that you can full discourse,

And flat resolue me of the thing I seeke.

Ales.

What is it maister Greene? 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 Abby of Feuershame,

Generally intitled, so that all former grants,

Are cut of, whereof I my selfe had one,

But now my interest by that is void,

This is all mistres Arden, is it trew nor no?

Ales.

Trew maister Gréene, the lands are his in state,

And whatsoever leases were before,

Are void for tearme of Maister Ardens lyfe:

He hath the grant vnder the Chancery seale.

Gre.

Pardon me mistres Arden, I must speake,

For I am toucht, your husband doth me wrong:

To wring me from the little land I have.

My liuing is my lyfe, onely that

Resteth remainder of my portion.

Desyre of welth is endles in his minde,

And he is gredy gaping still for gaine,

Nor cares he though young gentlemen do begge,

So he may scrape and hoorde vp in his poutche,

But seeing he hath taken my lands, Ile value lyfe:

As careles, as he is carefull for to get,

And tell him this from me, Ile be reuenged,

And so, as he shall wishe the Abby lands

Had rested still, within their former state.

Ales.

Alas poore gentleman, I pittie you,

And wo is me that any man should want,

God knowes tis not my fault, but wonder not

Though he be harde to others, when to me,

Ah maister Greene, God knowes how I am vsde,

[Page] Gre.

Why mistres Arden can the crabbed churle,

Use you vnkindely, respects he not your birth?

Your honorable fréends, nor what you brought:

Why? all Kent knowes your parentage, and what you are

Ales.

Ah M. Gréene be it spoken in secret heere,

I never liue good day with him alone:

When hee is at home, then haue I froward lookes,

Hard words and blowes, to mend the match withall;

And though I might content as good a man,

Yet doth he kéepe in euery corner trulles,

And weary with his trugges at home,

Then rydes he straight to London, there forsooth

He reuelles it among such filthie ones,

As counsels him to make a way his wyfe:

Thus liue I dayly in continuall feare:

In sorrow, so dispairing of redres

As euery day I wish with harty prayer,

That he or I were taken forth the worlde.

Gre

Now trust me mistres Ales, it gréeueth me,

So faire a creature should be so abused.

Why who would haue thought the civill sir, so sollen,

He lookes so smoothly now fye vpon him Churle,

And if he liue a day he liues too long,

But frolick woman, I shall be the man,

Shall set you free from all this discontent:

And if the Churle deny my intereste,

And will not yelde my lease into my hand,

Ile paye him home, what euer hap to me,

Ales.

But speake you as you thinke?

Gre.

I Gods my witnes, I meane plaine dealing,

For I had rather die then lose my land.

Ales.

Then maister Greene be counsailed by me

Indaunger not your selfe, for such a Churle,

But hyre some Cutter for to cut him short,

And héer's ten pound, to wager them with all,

When he is dead you shall haue twenty more.

[Page]And the lands whereof my husband is possest,

Shall be intytled as they were before.

Gre.

Will you kéepe promise with me?

Ales.

Or count me false and periurde, whilst I liue,

Gre.

Then heeres my hand Ile haue him so dispatcht,

Ile vp to London straight, Ile thether poast,

And neuer rest, til I have compast it,

Till then farewell.

Ales.

Good Fortune follow all your forward thoughts

Exit Grene.

And whosoever doth attempt the déede,

A happie hand I wish and so farewell.

All this goes well, Mosbie I long for thée

To let thee know all that I haue contriued,

Here enters Mosbie & Clarke.

Mos

Now now Ales whats the newes,

Ales.

Such as will content thee well sweete hart,

Mos.

Well let them passe a while, and tell me Ales,

Now haue you dealt, and tempered with my sister,

What will she haue my neighbour Clarke, or no?

Ales.

What M. Mosbie let him wooe him self,

Thinke you that maides looke not for faire wordes,

Go to her Clarke shées all alone within,

Michaell my man is cleane out of her bookes.

Clarke

I thanke you mistres Arden, I will in,

And if faire Susan, and I can make a gree,

You shall command me to the vttermost,

As farre as either goods or lyfe may streatch.

Exit Clark.

Mos.

Now Ales lets beare thy newes?

Ales.

They be so good, that I must laugh for ioy,

Before I can begin to tell my tale,

Mos.

Lets heare them, that I may laugh for company

Ales.

This morning M. Greene, dick gréene I meane,

From whome my husband had the Abby land,

Came hether ratling for to know the trueth,

Whether my husband had the la nds by grant,

[Page]I tould him all, where at he stormd a maine,

And s [...]ore he would cry quittance with the Churle,

And if he did denye his enterest

Stabbe him, whatsoever did befall him selfe,

When as I sawe his choller thus to rise,

I whetted on the gentleman with words

And to conclude, Mosbie, at last we grew

To composition for my husbands death,

I gaue him ten pound to hire knaues,

By some deuise to make away the Churle:

When he is dead, he should haue twenty more,

And repossesse his former lands againe,

On this we greed, and he is ridden straight

To London, to bring his death about.

Mos.

But call you this good newes?

Ales.

I sweete hart, be they not?

Mos.

I were cherefull newes, to hear the churle wer dead,

But trust me Ales, I take it passing ill,

You would be so forgetfull of our state,

To make recount of it to euery groome,

What? to acquaint each stranger with our drifts,

Cheesely in case of murther, why tis the way,

To make it open vnto Ardens selfe.

And bring thy selfe and me to ruine both,

Forewarnde, forearmde, who threats his enemye

Lends him a sword to guarde himselfe with all.

Ales.

I did it for the best.

Mos.

Well, seing tis don, cherely let it pas.

You know this Greene, is he not religious?

A man I gesse of great deuotion.

Ales.

He is.

Mos.

Then sweete Ales let it pas, I have a drift

Will quyet all, what euer is amis.

Here enters Clarke and Susan.

Ales.

Now now Clarke, haue you found me false?

Did I not plead the matter hard for you?

[Page] Clarke.

You did.

Mos.

And what, Wilt be a match,

Clarke.

A match, I faith sir I the day is mine,

The Painter, layes his cullours to the lyfe,

His pensel draws no shadowes in his loue.

Susan is mine.

Ales.

You make her blushe.

Mos.

What sister is it Clarke must be the man?

Su.

Stresteth in your graunt, some words are past,

And happely we be growne vnto a match,

If you be willing that it shall be so?

Mos.

Ah maister Clarke, it resteth at my grant,

You see my sister's yet at my dispose,

But so youle graunt me one thing I shall aske,

I am content my sister shall be yours.

Clark.

What is it M. Mosbie?

Mos.

I doo remember once in secret talke,

You tould me how you could compound by Arte.

A crucifix impoysoned:

That who so looke vpon it should waxe blinde,

And with the sent be stifeled, that ere long,

He should dye poysond, that did view it wel.

I would haue you make me such a crucifix,

And then Ile grant my sister shall be yours.

Cla.

Though I am loath, because it toucheth lyfe,

Yet rather or Ile leaue sweete Susans loue,

Ile do it, and with all the haste I may.

But for whome is it?

Ales.

Leaue that to vs, why Clarke, is it possible▪

That you should paint and draw it out your selfe,

The cullours beeing balefull and impoysoned,

And no waies preiudice your selfe with all?

Mos.

Well questioned Ales,

Clarke how answer you that?

Cla.

Very easily, Ile tell you straight,

How I doo worke of these Impoysoned drugs,

[Page]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 rubarbe to auoid the smell,

And softly as another worke I paint,

Mos.

Tis very well, but against when shall I haue it,

Cla.

Within this ten dayes,

Mos.

I will serue the turne.

Now Ales lets in, and see what chéere you kéepe,

I hope now M. Arden is from home,

Youle give me leave to play your husbands part.

Ales.

Mosbie you know whose maister of my hart,

He well may be the master of the house.

Eeunt,

Here enters Greene and Bradshaw,

Brad.

See you them that coms yonder M. Gréene?

Gren.

I very well, doo you know them?

Here enters Blacke Will and Shakebagge.

Brad.

The one I knowe not, but he seemes a knaue,

Choesly for bearing the other company:

For such a slaue, so vile a roge as he,

Lyues not againe vppon the earth,

Black-will is his name I tell you M. Gréene,

At Bulloine he and I were fellow souldiers,

Where he plaid such prankes,

As all the Campe feared him for his villany:

I warrant you he beares so bad a minde,

That for a croune heele murther any man.

Gre.

The fitter is he for my purpose mary.

Will.

Now now fellow Bradshaw,

Whether away so earely?

Brad.

O Will times are changed, no fellows now,

Though we were once together in the field,

Yet thy freend to doo thee any good I can.

Will.

Why Bradshawe was not thou and I,

Fellow souldiers at Bulloine:

Wher I was a corporall, and thou but a base mercenarye groome?

[Page]No fellowes now, because you are a gouldsmith,

And haue a lytle plate in your shoppe,

You were gladde to call me fellow Will,

And with a cursy to the earth,

One snatch good corporall.

When I stole the halfe Ore from Iohn the vitler.

And domineer'd with it, amongst good fellowes,

In one night.

Brad.

I Will, those dayes are past with me.

Will.

I but they be not past with me.

For I kepe that same honorable minde still,

Good neighbour Bradshaw you are too proude to be my fellow,

But were it not, that I sée more company comming down

The hill, I would be fellowes with you once more,

And share Crownes with you to.

But let that pas, and tell me whether you goe.

Brad.

To London Will, about a peece of seruice,

Wherein happely thou maist pleasure me.

Will.

What is it?

Brad.

Of late Lord Cheiny lost some plate,

Which one did bring, and soulde it at my shoppe,

Saying he serued sir Antony Cooke,

A search was made, the plate was found with me,

And I am bound to answer at the syse,

Now Lord Cheiny solemnly bowen,

If law will serue him, hele hang me for his plate,

Now I am going to London vpon hope,

To finde the fellow, now Will I know

Thou art acpuainted with such companions,

Will

What manner of man was he?

Brad.

A leane faced writhen knaue,

Hauke nosde, and verye hollow eied,

With mightye furrowes in his stormye browes,

Long haire down his shoulders curled,

His Chinne was bare, but on his vpper lippe,

A mutchado, which he wound about his eare,

[Page] Will.

What apparell had he,

Brad.

A watchet sattin doublet all to torne,

The inner side did beare the greater show,

A paire of threed bare Veluet hose seame rent,

A wosted stockin rent aboue the shoe,

A liuery cloake, but all the lace was of,

Twas bad, but yet it serued to hide the plate,

Will.

Sirra Shakebagge, canst thou remember

Since we trould the boule at Sittingburgh,

Where I broke the Lapsters head of the Lyon

With a Cudgill sticke?

Shak.

I very well Will.

Will.

Why it was with the money that the plate was sould for

Sirra Bradshaw what wilt thou giue him

That can tell thee who soulde thy plate?

Brad.

Who I pray thee good Will,

Will.

Why twas one Iacke Fitten,

He's now in Newgate, for stealing a horse,

And shall be arrainde the next life.

Brad.

Why then let Lord Cheiny séek Iack Fittē forth

For Ile backe and tell him, who robbed him of his plate,

This cheeres my hart M. Greene, Ile leaue you,

For I must to the Ile of Sheppy with spéede,

Greene

Before you go let me intreat you

To carry this letter to mistres Arden of Feuershame,

And humbly recommend me to her selfe.

Brad.

That will I M. Greene, and so farewell.

Heere Will, theres a Crowne for thy good newes.

Exit Bradshawe.

Will.

Farewell Bradshaw,

Ile drinke no water for thy sake, whilest this lasts:

Now gentlemen, shall we haue your company to London.

Gre.

Nay stay sirs, a lytle more I needs muste vse your helpe,

And in a matter of great consequence,

Wherein if youle be secret and profound,

Ile giue you twenty Angels for your paines.

[Page] Will.

Now? twenty Angells? giue my fellow

George shakbag and me, twenty Angels,

And if thoult haue thy owne father slaine,

That thou mayst inherit his land, weele kill him,

Shak.

I thy Mother, thy sister, thy brother, or all thy kin

Gre.

Well this it is, Arden of Feuershame,

Hath highly wrongd me about the Abby land,

That no reuendge but death will serue the turne:

Will you two kill him, hoeres the Angels downe,

And I will lay the platforme of his death:

Will.

Plat me no platformes giue me the money,

And ile stab him as he stands pissing against a wall,

but Ile kill him.

Sha.

Where is he?

Greene.

He is now at London, in Aldersgate stréete,

Shak.

He's dead, as if he had beene condemned

By an act of parliament, if once Black Will and I

Sweare his death,

Gre.

Here is ten pound, and when he is dead,

Ye shall haue twenty more:

Will.

My fingers itches to be at the pesant,

Ah that I might be set a worke thus through the yéere,

And that murther would grow to an occupation:

That a man might without daunger of law,

Zounds I warrant, I should be warden of the company,

Come let vs be going, and wele bate at Rochester,

Where Ile giue thee a gallon of Sack,

To hansell the match with all.

Exeunt,

Here enters Michael.

Mich.

I haue gotten suche a letter,

As will touche the Painter, And thus it is.

Here enters Arden and Francklin, and heares Michaell read this letter.

My duetye remembred Mistres Susan, hoping in God you be in good health, as I Michaell was at the making heereof. This is to certifie you, that as the Turtle true, when she hath lost her mate, [Page] sitteth alone, so I mourning for your absence, do walk vp and down. Poules, til one day I fell a sleepe and lost my maisters Pantophelles. Ah mistres Susan abbolishe that paltry Painter, cut him off by the shinnes, with a frowning looke of your crabed countenance, & think vpon Michaell, who druncke with the dregges of your fauour, wel cleaue as fast to your loue, as a plaster of Pitch to a gald horse back Thus hoping you will let my passions penetrate, or rather impetrate mercy of your meeke hands, I end.

Yours Michaell, or els not Michaell.

Ard.

Why you paltrie knaue,

Stand you here loytering, knowing my affaires,

What haste my busines craues to send to Kent?

Fran.

Faith frend Michaell, this is very ill,

Knowing your maister hath no more but you,

And do ye slache-his busines for your owne?

Ard.

Where is the letter sirra, let me sée it,

Then he giues him the letter.

Sée maister Francklin, heres proper stuffe,

Susan my maid, the Painter, and my man,

A crue of harlots all in loue forsooth,

Sirra let me heare no more of this.

Now for thy lyfe, once write to her a worde,

Here enters Greene, Will, and Shakebag,

Wilt thou be married to so base a trull.

Tis Mosbies sister, come I once at home,

Ile rouse her from remaining in my house:

Now M. Francklin let vs go walke in Paules,

Come, but a turne or two and then away,

Exeunt.

Gre.

The first is Arden, and thats his man,

The other is Francklin Ardens dearest fréend,

Will.

Zounds Ile kill them all three,

Gre.

Nay sirs, touch not his man in any case,

But stand close, and take you sittest standing,

And at his comming foorth spéede him:

To the Nages head, ther'is this cowards haunt,

But now Ile leaue you till the deed be don:

Exit Greene

[Page] Sha.

If he be not paid his owne nere trust shakebagge,

Wil.

Sirra Shakbag, at his comming foorth

Ile runne him through, and then to the blackfreers,

And there take water and a way.

Sha.

Why thats the best, but see thou misse him not.

Wil.

How can I misse him, when I thinke on the fortye

Angels I must haue more.

Here enters a Prentise,

Prentise.

Tis very late, I were best shute vp my stall,

For heere will be ould filching when the presse comes foorth of Paules.

Then lettes he downe his window, and it breaks Black Wils head.

Wil.

Zounds draw Shakbag draw, I am almost kild.

Pren.

Wele tame you I warrant.

Wil.

Zounds I am tame enough already,

Here enters Arden, Fran. & Michael.

Ard.

What trublesome fray or mutany is this?

Fran

Tis nothing but some brabling paltry fray.

Deuised to pick mens pockets in the throng.

Ard.

If nothing els? come Franklin let vs away.

Exeunt

Wil.

What mends shal I have for my broken head?

Pren.

Mary this mends, that if you get you not away

All the sooner, you shall be well beaten and sent to the counter.

Exit prentise.

Wil.

Well Ile be gone, but looke to your signes,

For Ile pull them down all.

Shakbag my broken head gréeues me not so much,

As by this meanes Arden hath escaped.

Here enters Greene.

I had a glimse of him and his companion.

Gre.

Why sirs, Arden's as wel as I,

I met him and Francklin going merrilly to the ordinary,

What dare you not do it?

Wil.

Yes sir we dare do it, but were my consent to giue againe,

We would not do it vnder ten pound more.

I value euery drop of my blood at a french Crowne.

[Page]I haue had ten pound to steale a dogge,

And we haue no more heere to kill a man,

But that a bargane is a bargane, and so foorth,

You should do it your selfe.

Gre.

I pray thee how came thy head broke,

Will.

Why thou séest it is broke, dost thou not.

Sha.

Stāding against a staule, watching Ardens cōming,

A boy let down his shop window, and broke his head.

Wherevpon arose a braul, and in the tumult

Arden escapt vs, and past by vnthought on.

But forberance is no acquittance,

Another time wele do it I warrant thée.

Gre.

I pray thée will make cleane thy bloodie brow,

And let vs bethink vs on some other place,

Where Arden may be met with handsomly.

Remember how deuoutly thou hast sworne,

To kill the villaine thinke vpon thyne oath.

Will.

Tush, I haue broken fiue hundred oathes,

But wouldst thou charme me to effect this dede?

Tell me of gould my resolutions fee,

Say thou seest Mosbie kneeling at my knées,

Offring me seruice for my high attempt:

And swéete Ales Arden with a lap of crownes.

Comes with a lowly cursy to the earth,

Saying take this, but for thy quarterige,

Such yéerely tribute will I answer thée.

Why this would steale soft metled cowardice,

With which black Will was neuer tainted with.

I tell thee Greene the forlorne trauailer,

Whose lips are glewed with sommers parching heat,

Nere longd so much to sée a running brooke,

As I to finish Ardens Tragedy.

Séest thou this goare that cleaueth to my face?

From hence nere will I wash this bloody staine,

Til Ardens hart be panting in my hand.

Gre.

Why thats wel said, but what saith shakbag?

[Page] Shak.

I cannot paint my valour out with words,

But giue me place and opportunitie,

Such mercy as the staruen Lyones

When she is dry suckt of her eager young:

Showes to the pray that next encounters her,

On Arden so much pitty would I take.

Gre.

So should it faire with men of firme resolue,

And now sirs seeing this accident,

Of meeting him in Paules hath no successe:

Let vs bethinke vs on some other place,

Whose earth may swallow vp this Ardens bloode.

Here enters Michaell.

Se yonder comes his man, and wat you what,

The foolish knaue is in loue with Mosbies sister,

And for her sake whose loue he cannot get,

Unlesse Mosbie solicit his sute.

The villaine hath sworne the slaughter of his maister,

Weele question him, for he may stead vs muche:

Now now Michael whether are you going?

Mic.

My maister hath new supt,

And I am going to prepare his chamber.

Gre.

Where supt M. Arden?

Mic.

At the Nages head, at the 18 pence ordinarye,

Now now M. Shakbag, what Black Wil,

Gods déere lady, how chaunce your face is so bloody?

Wil.

Go too sirra, there is a chaunce in it.

This sawcines in you wil make you be knockt.

Mic.

Nay and you be offended ile be gone.

Gre.

Stay michael you may not scape vs so.

Michael I knowe you loue your M. wel.

Mic.

Why so I do, but wherefore vrdge you that?

Gre.

Because I thinke you loue your mistres better,

So think not I, but say, yfaith what if I should?

Shak.

Come to the purpose Michael, we heare

You haue a pretty loue in Feuershame,

Mic.

Why haue I two or three, whats that to thée?

[Page] Wil.

You deale to mildely, with the pesant, thus it is,

Tis kowne to vs you loue mosbies sister.

We know besides that you haue tane your oath,

To further Mosbie to your mistres bed.

And kill your M. for his sisters sake.

Now sir, a poorer coward then your selfe,

Was neuer fostered in the coast of Kent.

Now comes it then, that such aknaue as you

Dare sweare a matter of such consequence?

Gre.

Ah will.

Will.

Tush giue me leaue, thers no more but this,

Sith thou hast sworne, we dare discouer all,

And hadst thou or shouldst thou vtter it,

We haue deuised a complat vnder band

What euer shall beside to any of vs:

To send thee roundly to the diuell of hell.

And therefore thus, I am the very man,

Markt in my birth howre by the destynies,

To giue an end to Ardens lyfe 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 traine thy M. to his tragedy.

Myne to performe it, when occasion serues.

Then be not nice, but here deuise with vs,

Now and what way, we may conclude his death.

Sha.

So shalt thou purchase, Mosbie for thy frend

And by his frendship gaine his sisters loue.

Gre,

So shal thy mistres be thy fauorer,

And thou disburdned of the oath thou made.

Mic.

Wel gentlemen I cannot but confesse,

Sith you haue brdged me so aparantly,

That I haue vowed my M. Ardens death,

And he whose kindly loue and liberall hand,

Doth challenge naught but good deserts of me,

I wil delyuer ouer to your hands.

[Page]This night come to his house at Aldersgate,

The dores Ile leaue vnlockt against you come.

No sooner shall ye enter through the latch,

Ouer the thresholde to the inner court.

But on your left hand shall you sée the staires.

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 haue promised, I will performe.

Wil.

Should you deceive vs, twould go wrong w^t you,

Mic.

I will accomplish al I haue reuealde,

Wil.

Come let's go drinke, choller makes me as drye as a dog

Exeunt Will, Gre▪ and Shak. Manet Michaell.

Mic.

Thus féedes the Lambe securely on the downe,

Whilst through the thicket of an arber brake,

The hunger bitten Woulfe orepryes his hant,

And takes aduantage to eat him vp.

Ah harmeles Arden how, how hast thou misdone,

That thus thy gentle lyfe is leueld at,

The many good turnes that thou hast don to me,

Now must I quitance with betraying thee.

I that should take the weapon in my hand,

And buckler thée from ill intending foes.

Do lead thée with a wicked fraudfull smile,

As vnsuspected, to the slaughterhouse:

So haue I sworne to Mosby and my mistres.

So haue I promised to the slaughtermen.

And should I not deale currently with them,

Their lawles rage would take reuenge on me,

Tush I will spurne at mercy for this once.

Let pittie lodge where féeble womenly,

I am resolued, and Arden néeds must die.

Exit Michaell.

Here enters Arden & Fran.

Arden.

No Francklin no, if feare or stormy threts,

If loue of me, or care of womanhoode,

[Page]If feare of God, or common speach of men,

Who mangle credit with their wounding words,

And cooch dishonor, as dishonor buds.

Might soyne repentaunce in her wanton thoughts,

No question then but she would turne the lease,

And sorrow for her desolution.

But she is rooted in her wickednes

Peruerse and stobburne, not to be reclaimde,

Good counsell is to her as raine to weedes

And reprehension makes her vice to grow,

As Hydraes head that perisht by decay.

Her faults me think are painted in my face.

For euery searching eye to ouer réede.

And Mosbies name, a scandale vnto myne.

Is deeply trenched in my blushing brow.

Ah Francklin Francklin, when I think on this,

My harts greese rends my other powers,

Worse then the conflict at the houre of death.

Farn.

Gentle Arden leaue this sad lament,

She will amend, and so your gréefes will cease

Or els shele die, and so your sorrows end.

If neither of these two do happely fall,

Yet let your comfort be, that others beare

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 Mosbie doth vsurpe my roome,

And makes his triumphe of my béeing thence.

At home, or not at home, where ere I be.

Heere heere it lyes, ah Francklin here it lyes,

That wil not out till wretched Arden dies.

Here enters Michaell.

Fra.

Forget your gréefes a while, héer coms your man,

Ard.

What a Clock ist sirra?

Mic.

Almost ten.

Ard.

Sée sée how runnes away the weary time,

[Page]Come M. Franklin, shal we go to bed.

Exeunt Arden & Michaell. Manet Francklin.

Fran.

I pray you go before, Ile follow you,

Ah what ahell is fretfull Ielousie?

What pitty moning words? what déepe fetcht sighes?

What gréeuous grones? and ouerlading woes,

Accompanies this gentle gentleman.

Now will he shake his care oppressed head,

Then sir his sad eis on the sollen earth,

Ashamed to gaze vpon the open world.

Now will he cast his eyes vp towards the heauens,

Looking that waies for redresse of wrong,

Some times he séeketh to beguile his griefe,

And tels a story with his carefull tongue.

Then comes his wiues dishonor in his thoughts,

And in the middle cutteth of his tale.

Dowring fresh sorrow on his weary lims.

So woe begone, so inlye charged with woe,

Was neuer any lyued and bare it so.

Here enters Michaell.

Mic.

My M. would desire you come to bed.

Fra.

Is he himselfe already in his bed?

Exit Fran. Manet Mic.

Mic.

He is and faine would haue the light away,

Conflicting thoughts incamped in my brest

Awake me with the Echo of their strokes:

And I a iudge to censure either side,

Can giue to neither wished victory.

My masters kindnes pleads to me for lyfe,

With iust demaund, and I must grant it him.

My mistres she hath forced me with an oath,

For Susans sake the which I may not breake,

For that is nearer thē a masters loue,

That grim faced fellow, pittiles black Will,

And Shakebag stearne in bloody stratageme,

[Page]Two Ruffer Ruffins neuer liued in Kent,

Haue sworne my death if I infrindge my vow,

A dreadfull thing to be considred of,

Me thinks I see them with their bolstred haire,

Staring and grinning in thy gentle face,

And in their ruthles hands, their dagers drawne,

Insulting ore there with a peck of oathes.

Whilest thou submissiue pleading for reléefe,

Art mangled by their irefull instruments.

Me thinks I heare them aske where Michaell is

And pittiles black Will, cryes stab the slaue.

The Pesant will detect the Tragedy.

The wrincles in his fowle death threatning face,

Gapes open wide, lyke graues to swallow men.

My death to him is but a merryment,

And he will murther me to make him sport.

He comes he comes, ah M. Francklin helpe,

Call vp the neighbors or we are but dead

Here enters Fran. & Arden.

Fran.

What dismall outcry cals me from my rest?

Ard.

What hath occasiond such a fearefull crye?

Speake Michaell, hath any iniurde thée?

Mic.

Nothing sir, but as I fell a sleepe,

Upon the thresholde leaning to the staires.

I had a fearfull dreame that troubled me,

And in my slumber thought I was beset,

With murtherer theeues that came to rifle me.

My trembling ioints witnes my inward feare.

I craue your pardons for disturbing you.

Ard.

So great a cry for nothing, I nere heard.

What, are the doores fast lockt? and al things safe?

Mic.

I cannot tel, I think I lockt the doores.

Ard.

I like not this, but Ile go sée my selfe,

Nere trust me, but the doores were all vnlockt.

This negligence not halse contenteth me.

Get you to bed, and if you loue my fauour,

[Page]Let me haue no more such pranckes as these

Come M. Francklin, let vs go to bed.

Farn.

I be my Faith, the aire is very colde,

Exeunt

Michaell farewell, I pray thee dreame no more.

Sha.

Black night hath hid the pleasurs of y^t day.

Here enters Will, Gre▪ and Shak.

And sheting darknesse ouerhangs the earth,

And with the black folde of her cloudy robe,

Obscure vs from the eiesight of the worlde,

In which swete silence such as we triumph.

The laysie minuts linger on their time,

Loth to give due audit to the howre:

Til in the watch our purpose be complete,

And Arden sent to euerlasting night.

Greene get you gone, and linger here about,

And at some houre hence, come to vs againe,

Where we will giue you instance of his death.

Gre.

Speede to my wish whose wil so ere sayes no,

And so ile leaue you for an howre or two.

Exit Gre.

Will.

I tel thoe Shakebag, would this thing wer don,

I am so heauy that I can scarse go:

This drowsines in me bods little good.

Shake.

Now now Will, become a precissian.

Nay then lets go sleepe, when huges and feares,

Shall kill our courages with their fancies worke,

Will.

Why Shakbagge thou mistakes me much,

And wrongs me to in telling me of feare,

Wert not a serious thing we go about,

It should be slipt, til I had sought with thée:

To let thée know I am no coward I,

I tel thee Shakbag thou abusest me.

Sha.

Why thy speach bewraied an inlye kind offeare.

And fauourd of a weak relenting spirit.

Go forward now in that we haue begonne.

And afterwards attempt me when thou darest.

Wil.

And if I do not heauen cut me of,

But let that passe, and show me to this house.

[Page]Where thou shalt sée Ile do as much as Shakbag.

Sha.

This is the doore, but soft, me thinks tis shut.

The villaine Michaell hath deceiued vs,

Wil.

Soft let me sée, shakbag tis shut indéed.

Knock with thy sword, perhaps the slaue will heare,

Sha.

It will not be, the white liuerd pesant is gon to bed

And laughs vs both to scorne.

Wil.

And he shall by his mirriment as deare,

As euer coistrell bought so little sport,

Here let this sworde assist me when I neede,

But rust and canker after I haue sworne:

If I the next time that I mete the hind,

Loppe not away his leg, his arme or both,

Sha.

And let me neuer draw a sword againe,

Nor prosper in the twilight, cockshut light,

When I would sleece the welthie passenger,

But ly and languish in a loathsome den:

Hated and spit at by the goers by.

And in that death may die, vnpittied.

If I the next time that I meete the slaue,

Cut not the nose from of the cowards face,

And trample on it, for this villany.

Wil.

Come lets go seeke out Gréen I know hele swear

Sha.

He were a villane and he would not sweare,

I would make a pesant sweare amongst his boyes.

That nere durst say before but yea and no.

To be thus slouted of a coysterel.

Will.

Shakbag lets seeke out gréen, & in the morning

At the Alehouse butting Ardens house,

Watch thee out comming of that prick eard cur,

And then letme alone to handle him.

Exeunt.

Here enters Ard. Fra. & Michaell.

Ard.

Sirra get you back to billensgate,

And learne what time the tide will serue our turne,

Come to vs in Paules, first go make the bed,

And afterwards go harken for the floude.

Exit Michaell.

[Page]Come M. Francklin, you shall go with me.

This night I dreamed that béeing in a parke,

A toyle was picht to ouerthrow the deare,

And I vppon a little rysing hill,

Stoode whistely watching for the herds approch,

Euen there me thoughts a gentle slumber tooke me,

And sommond all my parts to swéete repose.

But in the pleasure of this golden rest,

An ill thewd foster had remoued the toyle,

And rounded me with that beguyling home,

Which late me thought was pitcht to cast the deare,

With that he blew an euill sounding horne,

And at the noise an other heard man came:

With Fauchon drawn, and bent it at my brest.

Crying aloud thou art the game we séeke,

With this I wakt, and trembled euery ioynt,

Lyke one oscured in a lytle bushe,

That sees a lyon foraging about,

And when the dreadfull forrest King is gone,

He pryes about, with timerous suspects

Throughout the thorny casements of the brake,

And will not think his person daungerles.

But quakes and shewers though the cause be gone.

So trust me Francklin when I did awake,

I stoode in doubt whether I waked or no:

Such great impression tooke this sond surprise:

God graunt this vision bedeeme me any good.

Fran.

This fantassie doeth rise from Michaels feare,

Who being awaked with the noyse he made,

His troubled sences, yet could take no rest.

And this I warant you procured your dreame.

Ard.

It may be so God frame it to the best,

But often times my dreames presage to trew.

Fran.

To such as note their nightly fantasies,

Some one in twenty may incurre beliefe,

But vse it not, tis but a mockery,

[Page] Ard.

Come M. Francklin wele now walke in Pau'es

And dyne togeather at the ordinary,

And by my mans direction draw to the key,

And with the tyde go down to Feuershame,

Say, M. Francklin shall it not be so?

Francklin.

At your good pleasure sir,

Ile beare you companye.

Exeunt.

Here enters Michaell at one doore. Here enters Grene, Will, and Shakebag, at another doore.

Wil.

Draw Shakbag for heers that villaine Michael,

Gre.

First Will lets heare what he can say,

Wil.

Speak milkesope slaue, & neuer after speake.

Mic.

For Gods sake sirs let me excuse my selfe.

For heare I sweare by heauen and earth and all,

I did performe the outmost of my talk,

And left the doores vnbolted and vnlockt,

But see the chaunce Francklin and my master,

Were very late conferring in the porch,

And Francklin left his napkin where he sat,

With certain gourlo knit mit, as he said

Being in bed, he did bethinke himselfe,

And comming down, he found the dores vnshut,

He lockt the gates, and brought away the keyes

For which offence my master rated me,

But now I am going to see what floode it is,

For with the tyde my M. will away.

Where you may frons him well on Kaynum downe,

A place well sitting such a stratageme.

Wil.

Your excuse hath some what molysted my choller,

Why now Gréene tis better now nor ere it was,

Gre.

But Michaell is this trew?

Mic.

As trew as I report it to be trew.

Shak.

Then Michaell this shall be your pennance,

To feast vs all at the Salutation,

Where we wil plat our purpose throughly.

[Page] Gre.

And Michael, you shal bear no newes of this tide

Because they two may be in Kaynū down before your M.

Mic.

Why Ile agree to any thing youle have me.

So you will except of my company.

Exeunt.

Here enters Mosby.

Mos.

Disturbed thoughts dryues me from company,

And dryes my marrow with their watchfulnes,

Continuall trouble of my moody braine,

Féebles my body by excesse of drinke,

And nippes me, as the bitter Northeast wind,

Doeth check the tender blosoms in the spring.

Well fares the man how ere his cates do taste

That tables not with foule suspition:

And he but pines amongst his delicats,

Whose troubled minde is stuft with discontent.

My goulden time was when I had no gould,

Thought then I wanted, yet I slept secure,

My dayly toyle, begat me nights repose:

My nights repose made daylight fresh to me.

But since I climbd the toppe bough of the tree,

And sought to build my nest among the clouds.

Each gentle stary gaile doth shake my bed:

And makes me dread my downfall to the earth,

But whether doeth contemplation carry me.

The way I seeke to finde where pleasure dwels,

Is hedged behinde me that I cannot back,

But needs must on, although to dangers gate:

Then Arden perish thou by that decre.

For Greene doth erre the land and weede thée vp,

To make my haruest nothing but pure corne.

And for his paines Ile heaue him vp a while,

And aftersmother him to haue his waxe.

Such bees as Greene, must neuer liue to sting.

Then is there Michael and the Painter to,

Chrefe actors to Ardens overthrow:

Who when they shall see me sit in Ardens seat,

[Page]They wil insult upon me for my mede,

Or fright me by detecting of his end.

He none of that, for I can cast a bone,

To make these curres pluck out each others throat,

And then am I sole ruler of mine owne:

Yet mistres Arden liues, but she's my selfe,

And holy Churchrites makes vs two, but one,

But what for that I may not trust you Ales,

You have supplanted Arden for my sake,

And will extirpen me to plant another:

Tis feareful sleeping in a serpents bed.

And I wil cleanely rid my hands of her.

Here enters Aes.

But here she comes and I must flatter her.

How now Ales? what sad, and passionat?

Make me pertaker of thy pensiuenes:

Fyre deuided burnes with lesser force.

Ales

But I will damne that fire in my breast.

Till by the force therof, my part consume, ah Mosbie.

Mos.

Such depe pathaires lyke to a cannons burst,

Dischargde against a ruinated wall,

Breakes my relenting hart in thousand pieces,

Ungentle Ales thy sorrow is my sore,

Thou knowst it wel, and tis thy pollicy,

To forge distressefull looks, to wound a breast,

Where lyes a hart, that dies where thou art sad,

It is not loue, that loues to anger loue.

Ales.

It is not loue, that loues to murther loue.

Mos.

How meane you that?

Ales.

Thou knowest how dearly Arden loued me.

Mos.

And then.

Ales.

And then conceale the rest, for tis too bad,

Least that my words be carried with the wind.

And publisht in the world to both our shames,

I pray thée Mosbye let our springtime wither,

Our harvest els will yeald but lothsome weedes.

[Page]Forget I pray thée what hath past betwix vs,

For now I blushe and tremble at the thoughts,

Mos.

What are you changde?

Ales.

I to my former happy lyfe againe.

From tytle of an odious strumpets name,

To honest Ardens wife, not Ardens honest wife,

Ha Mosbye tis thou hast rifled me of that,

And made me slaundrous to all my kin:

Euen in my forehead is thy name ingraueu,

Ameane Artifiecer, that lowe borne name,

I was bewitched, woe worth the haples howre,

And all the causes that inchaunted me:

Mos.

Nay if thou ban, let me breath 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 haue stated me aboue thy state:

Forslowde aduantages, and spurnd at time.

I Fortunes right hand▪ Mosbie hath forsoohe,

To take a wanton gi [...]lote by the lest.

I left the Mariage of [...]n honest maid,

VVhose dowry would haue weyed down all thy wealth,

VVhose beauty and demianor farre exceeded thee.

This certaine good I lost for changing bad,

And wrapt my credit in thy company.

I was bewitcht, that is no theame of thine,

And thou vnhallowed hast enchaunted me:

But I will breake thyspels, and excirsimes,

And put another sight vpon these eyes,

That shewed my hart, a rauen for a dowe.

Thou art not faire, I vieud thee not till now,

Thou art not kinde, till now I knew the not.

And now the raine hath beaten of thy gilt,

Thy worthles copper showes thee conterset.

It grieues me not to see how foull thou art,

But maddes me that euer I thought thee faire,

[Page]Go get thée gone, a copesmate for thy hyndes.

I am too good to be thy fauorite.

Ales.

I now I see, and too soone find it trew,

Which often hath béene tould me by my fréends:

That Mosbie loues me not but for my wealth,

Which too incredulus I nere beleeued.

Nay heare me speake Mosbie a word or two,

Ile byte my tongue, if it speake bitterly:

Looke on me Mosby, or Ile kill my selfe,

Nothing shall hide me from thy stormy looke:

If thou cry warre, there is no peace for me

I will do pennance for offending thee,

And burne this prayer booke, where I here vse,

The holy word that had conuerted me,

See Mosbie I will teare away the leaues.

And al the leaues, and in this golden couer,

Shall thy sweete phrases, and thy letters dwell,

And thereon will I chiefly meditate,

And hould no other sect, but such deuotion,

Wilt thou not looke? is all thy loue ouerwhelmde?

Wilt thou not heare? what malice stopes thine eares?

Why speaks thou not? what silence ties thy tongue?

Thou hast bene sighted, as the eagle is,

And heard as quickly as the fearefull hare:

And spoke as smoothly as an orator.

When I haue bid thee heare, or sée, or speak.

And art thou sensible in none of these?

Waigh all thy good turns, with this little fault,

And I deserue not Mosbies muddy lookes.

A fence of trouble is not thickned still,

Be cleare againe, Ile nere more trouble thée,

Mos.

O no, I am a base artificer,

My winges are feathred for a lowly sight,

Mosby fy no, not for a thousand pound,

Make loue to you, why tis vnpardonable,

We beggers must not breath where gentiles are.

[Page] Ales

Swete Mosbie is as gentle as a King,

And I too blinde, to iudge him otherwise,

Flowres do some times spring in fallow lands,

VVeedes in gardens, Roses grow on thornes.

So what so ere my Mosbies father was,

Himselfe valued gentle by his worth.

Mos.

Ah how you women can insinuate,

And cleare a trespasse with your sweete set tongue,

I will forget this quarrel gentle Ales,

Prouided Ile be tempted so no more:

Here enters Bradshaw,

Al.

Then with thy lips seale vp this new made match

Mos.

Soft Ales for here comes some body.

Ales.

How now Bradshaw, whats the news with you

Brad.

I haue little news but heres a letter.

That M. Gréene importuned me to giue you:

Ales

Go in Bradshaw call for a cuppe-of beare.

Exit

Tis almost suppertime, thou shalt stay with vs.

Then she reades the Letter.

We haue mist of our purpose at London, but shall perform it by the waye, We thanke our neighbour Bradshaw.

Yours Richard Greene.

How lykes my loue the tennor of this letter?

Mos.

Well, were his date compleat and expired.

Ales.

Ah would it were,

Then comes my happy howre.

Till then my blisse is mixt with bitter gall.

Come let vs in to shun suspition.

Ales.

I to the gates of death to follow thee.

Exeunt.

Here enters Greene Will & Shakbag.

Shak.

Come Will, sée thy tooles be in a redynes?

Is not thy Powder dancke,

Or will thy flint stryke fyre

Will.

Then aske me if my nose be on my face,

Or whether my toung be frosen in my mouth.

[Page]Zounds heres a coyle, you were best sweare mee on the intergatories, how many Pistols I haue tooke in hand,

Or whether I loue the smell of gunne powder,

Or dare abide the noise the dagge will make,

Or will not wincke at flashing of the fire.

I pray thée shackbag let this answer thée.

That I haue tooke more purses in this down,

Then ere thou handledst pistols in thy life.

Sha.

I happely thou hast pickt more in a throng.

But should I bragge what booties I haue tooke,

I think the ouerplus thats more then thine,

Would mount to a greater somme of money,

Then either thou, or all thy kinne are worth.

Zounds I hate them as I hate a toade,

That cary a muscado in their tongue.

And scarce a hurting weapon in their hand.

Wil.

O Gróene, intollerable,

It is not for mine honor to beare this.

Why shakbag I did serue the King at Bulloyne,

And thou canst bragge of nothing that thou hast done.

Shak.

Why so can Iack of Feuershame,

That sounded for a phillope on the nose:

When he that gaue it him hollowed in his eare.

And he supposed a Cannon bullet hit him.

Then they fight.

Grene.

I pray you sirs list to Esops talk,

Whilest two stout dogs were striuing for a bone,

There comes a cur, and stole it from them both,

So while you stand striuing on these termes of manhoode,

Arden escapes vs and deceaue vs al.

Shake.

Why he begun.

Will.

And thou shalt finde Ile end.

I doo but slip it vntil better time.

But if I do forget.

Then hee kneels downe and houldes vp his hands to heauen.

[Page] Grene.

Wel take your fittest standings, & once more

Lime your twigs to catch this weary bird,

Ile leaue you, and at your dags discharge

Make towards lyke the longing water dog,

That coucheth til the fowling peece be of:

Then ceazeth on the pray with eager moode,

Ah might I sée him stretching foorth his limmes,

As I haue seene 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 thée:

But braul not when I am gone in any case,

But sirs be sure to speede him, when he comes,

And in that hope Ile leaue you for an houre.

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 trauailed in such paine to feuershàme:

Remouing of a shoe may happely help it.

Ard.

Well get you back to Rochester, but siirra sée ye ouertake vs ere we come to Raynum down,

For it will be very late ere we get home:

Mic.

I God he knowes, & so doth Will and shakebagge,

That thou shalt neuer go further then that downe,

And therefore haue I prickt the horse on purpose,

Because I would not view the massacar.

Exit Michaell.

Arden.

Come M. Francklin onwards with your tale,

Fran.

I assure you sir, you taske me much,

A heauy bloode is gathered at my hart,

And on the sudden is my winde so short:

As hindereth the passage of my speach.

So ferse a qualme yet neere assayled me:

Ard.

Come M. Francklin let vs go on softly,

The anoyance of the dust, or els some meat,

you eat at dinner, cannot brooke you:

I haue bene often so, and soone amended.

Fra.

Do you remember where my tale did leaue?

[Page] Ard.

I, where the gentleman did chek his wife.

Fran.

She being reprehended for the fact.

Witnes produced that tooke her with the deed,

Her gloue broght in, which there she left behind,

And many other assured Arguments:

He husband askt her whether it were not so.

Ard.

her answer then, I wonder how she lookt,

Hauing forsworne it with such vehement oathes,

And at the instant so approued vppon her,

Fra.

First did she cast her eyes down to the earth,

Watching the drops that fell amaine from thence,

Then softly drawes she foorth her hand kercher,

And modestly she wypes her teare staind face:

Then hemd she out to cleare her voice should séeme,

And with a maiesty addrest her selfe,

To encounter all their accusations.

Pardon me M. Arden I can no more:

This fighting at my hart, makes shorte my wynde.

Ard.

Come we are almost now at Raynum downe,

Your pretty tale beguiles the weary way:

I would you were in state to tell it out.

Shak.

Stand close Will I heare them cumming.

Here enters Lord Cheiny with his men.

Wil.

Stand to it Shakbag, and be resolute,

Lord Che.

Is it so néere night as it séemes,

Or wil this black faced euening haue a showre?

What M. Arden, you are well met,

I haue longd this fortnights day to speake with you,

You are a stranger man in the ile of Shepny,

Ard.

Your honors alwayes bound to do you seruice,

Lord Che.

Come you from London & nere a man with you?

Ard.

My man's comming after,

But her's my honest fréend that came along with me.

Lord Che.

My Lord protectors man I take you to bée

Fran.

I my good Lord, and highly bound to you,

Lord Che.

You & your frend come home & sup with me.

[Page] Ard.

I beséech your honor pardon me.

I haue made a promise to a gentle man,

My honest fréend to méete him at my house,

The occasion is great, or els would I wait on you.

Lord C.

Will you come tomorrow & dyne with me

And bring your honest frend along with you:

I haue dyuers matters to talke with you about.

Arden.

Tomorrow wele waite vpon your honor,

Lord C.

One of you staye my horse at the top of the hil

What black Will, for whose purse wait you?

Thou wilt be hanged in Kent, when all is done.

Wil.

Not hanged, God saue your honor.

I am your bedesman, bound to pray for you,

Lord C.

I think thou nere saidest prayer in all thy lyfe,

One of you giue him a crowne,

And sirra leaue this kinde of lyfe.

If thou beest tainted for a penny matter,

And come in question surely thou wilt trusse,

Come M. Arden let vs be going,

Youre way and mine lyes foure myle togeather.

Exeunt

Manet Black Wil & Shakbag.

Wil

The Deuill break all your necks, at 4 myles end,

Zounds I could kill my selfe for very anger.

His Lordship chops me in, euen when

My dagge was leaueld at his hart.

I would his crowne were molten down his throat,

Sha.

Arden thou hast wondrous holye luck,

Did euer man escape as thou hast done.

VVell Ile discharge my pistoll at the skye,

For by this bullet Arden might not die.

Here enters Greene.

Gre.

VVhat is he down, is he dispatcht?

Sha.

I in health towards Feuershame, to shame vs all

Gre.

The Devill he is, why sirs how escapt he?

shak

VVhen we were ready to shoote,

Comes my Lord Cheiny to preuent his death.

[Page] Grene.

The Lord of heauen hath preserued him.

Will.

Preserued, a figge, the L. Cheiny hath preserued him

And bids him to a feast, to his house at shorlow:

But by the way, once more Ile méete with him,

And if all the Cheinies in the world say no,

Ile haue a bullet in his breast to morrow,

Therefore come Gréene and let vs to Feuershame.

Gre.

I and excuse our selues to mistres Arden,

O how shele chafe when she heares of this.

sha.

VVhy ile warrant you shel think we dare not doit

Wil.

VVhy then let vs go, & tell her all the matter.

And plat the newes to cut him of to morrow.

Exeunt.

Here enters Arden and his wife, Francklin and Michaell.

Ard.

Sée how the howrs the gardeant of heauens gate

Haue by their toyle remoued the darksome cloudes.

That Soll may wel deserue the trampled pace,

VVherein he wount to guide his golden car,

The season fits, come Francklin, let's a way.

Ales.

I thought you did pretend some speciall hunt,

That made you thus cut shorte the time of rest.

Ard.

It was no chase that made me rise so early,

But as I tould thée yesternight to go to the Ile of Sheppy:

There to dine with my Lord Cheiny.

For so his honor late commanded me.

Ales.

I such kinde husbands seldome want excuses,

Home is a wilde Cat, to a wandring wit,

The time hath bene, would God it were not past,

That honors tytle nor a Lords command,

Could once haue drawne you from these armes of mine,

But my deserts, or your deserues decay,

Or both, yet if trew loue may séeme desert,

I merite stil to haue thy company.

Fran.

VVhy I pray you sir, let her go along with vs,

I am sure his honor wil welcome her,

And vs the more, for bringing her along.

[Page] Ard.

Content, sirra saddle your mistres nagge.

Ales.

No, begde fauor merits little thankes,

If I should go, our house would runne away,

Or els be stolne, therefore Ile stay behind.

Ard.

Nay see how mistaking you are,

I pray thee goe.

Ales.

No no, not now.

Ard.

Then let me leaue thée satisfied in this,

That time nor place, nor persons alter me,

But that I hould thée de rer then my life.

Ales.

That will be séene by your quick returne.

Ard.

And that shall be ere night and if I liue.

Farewell swéete Ales, we mind to sup with thee.

Exit Al.

Fra.

Come Michaell are our horses ready?

Mic.

I your horse are ready, but I am not ready,

For I haue lost my purse,

With six and thirtie shillinges in it,

With taking vp of my M. Nagge.

Fra.

Why I pray you let vs go before,

Whilest he stayes behind to séeke his purse.

Ard.

Go too sirra, sée you follow vs to the ile of sheppye,

To my Lord Cheynyes where we meane to dine.

Exeunt Arden & Francklin. Manet Michaell.

Mic.

So faire whether after you,

For before you lyes, black Will and shakebag,

In the broome close, to close for you,

Theyle be your ferrymen to long home,

Here enters the Painter.

But who is this the Painter, my corriual,

That would nedes winne M. Susan.

Clark.

How now Michael how doth my Mistresse,

And all at home?

Mic.

Who susan Mosbye? sheis your Mistres too

Cla.

I How doth she, and all the rest?

Mic.

Al's well but susan she is sicke,

[Page] Cla.

Sick, of what disease?

Mic.

Of a great feare.

Cla.

A feare, of what?

Mic.

A great feuer.

Cla.

A feuer God forbidde.

Mic.

Yes faith, and of a lordaine too,

As bigge as your selfe.

Cla.

M. Michaell the spleane prickles you.

Go too, you carry an eye ouer mistres susan.

Mic.

I faith, to keepe her from the Painter.

Cla.

Why more from a Painter, then from a seruing creature like your selfe.

Mic.

Because you Painters make but a painting fable of a pretty wench, and spotle her beauty with blotting.

Cla.

What meane you by that?

Mic.

Why that you Painters, paint lambes, in the lyning of wenches peticots

And we seruing men put hornes to them, to make them become sheepe.

Cla.

Such another word wilcost you a cuffe or a knock

Mic.

What with a dagger made of a pensell?

Faith tis too weake,

And therefore thou to weak to winne susan.

Cla.

Would susans loue lay vppon this stroke,

Then he breaks Michaels head. Here enters Mosby Greene & Ales.

Ales.

Ile lay my lyfe, this is for susans loue,

Stayd you behinde your M. to this end?

Have you no other time to brable in

But now when serious matters are in hand?

Say Clarke, hast thou done the thing thou promised?

Cla.

I heare it is, the very touch is death.

Ales.

Then this I hope, if all the rest do faile,

Wil catch M. Arden,

And make him wise in death, that liued a foole.

[Page]Why should he thrust his sickle in our corne,

Or what hath he to do with thee my loue?

Or gouerne me that am to rule my selfe,

Forsooth for credit sake I must leaue thee.

Nay he must leaue to liue, to liue, that we may loue,

May liue may loue for what is lyfe but loue?

And loue shall last as long as lyfe remaines,

And lyfe shall end, before my loue depart.

Mos.

Why whats loue, without true constancy?

Lyke to a piller built of many stones.

Yet neither with good morter, well compact,

Nor semell, to fasten it in the ioynts.

But that it shakes with euery blast of winde,

And being toucht, straight falles vnto the earth,

And buries all his haughty pride in dust.

No let our loue be roc [...]es of Addamant,

Which time nor place, nor tempest can a sunder.

Gre.

Mosbie leaue protestations now,

And let vs bethinke vs what we haue to doo:

Black Will and shakebag I have placed,

In the broome close watching Ardens comming,

Lets to them, and see what they haue done.

Exeunt

Here enters Ard. & Fra.

Ard.

Of ferry man, where art thou?

Here enters the Ferriman.

Fer.

Here here, goe before to the boat.

And I will follow you.

Ard.

We haue great haste, I pray thée come away.

Fer.

Fy what a mist is here.

Ard.

This mist my frend, is misticall,

Lyke to a good companions smoaky braine,

That was halfe dround with new ale ouer night.

Fer.

I were pitty but his stull were opened,

To make more Chimny roome.

Fran.

Fréend whats thy opinion of this mist.

Fer.

I think tis lyke to a curst wise in a lytlehouse,

[Page]That neuer leaues her husband till she haue driuen him out at doores, with a wet paire of eyes,

Then lookes he as if his house were a fire,

Or some of his fréends dead.

Ard.

Speaks thou this of thine owne experience,

Fer.

Perhaps I, perhaps no: For my wyfe is as other women are, that is to say, governed by the Moone.

Fran.

By the Moone, how I pray thée?

Fer.

Na thereby lyes a bargane.

And you shall not haue it fresh and fasting.

Ard.

Yes I pray thee good ferryman.

Fer.

Then for this once, let it be midsommer Moone,

But yet my wyfe as another moone.

Fran.

Another Moone.

Fer.

I, and it hath influences and Celipses.

Ard.

Why then by this reconing, you somtimes

Play the man in the Moone.

Fer.

I but you had not best to meddle with that moone

Least I scratch you by the face, with my bramble bush,

Ard.

I am almost stifled with this fog, come lets away

Fran.

And sirra as we go, lets vs haue som more of your bolde yeomandry.

Fer.

Nay by my troth sir, but flat knauery.

Exeunt.

Here enters Will at one doore, and Shakbag at another.

Sha.

Oh Will where art thou?

Wil.

Here shakbag, almost in hels mouth,

Where I can not see my way for smoake.

Sha.

I pray thee speake still, that we may mete by the sound, for I shall fall into some ditche or other, vnles my seete see better then my eies.

Wil.

Didest thou euer sée better weather to runne away with another mans wife, or play with a wenche at potfinger.

shak.

No this were a sine world for chandlers,

If this weather would last, for then a man

[Page]Should neuer dyne nor sup without candle light,

But sirra Will what horses are those that past?

Wil.

Why, didst thou heare any?

Sha.

I that I did.

Will.

My life for thine, twas Arden and his companiō

And then all our labour's lost,

Sha.

Nay say not so for, if it be they, they may happely loose their way as we haue done

And then we may chaunce meete with them.

Wil.

Come let vs go on lyke a couple of blind pilgrims

Then Shakebag falles into a ditch.

Sha.

Helpe Will help, I am almost drownd.

Here enters the ferryman.

Fer.

Whose that, that calles for help?

Wil.

I was none heere, twas thou thy selfe.

Fer.

I came to help him that cald for help,

Why how now? who is this thats in the ditch?

You are well enough serued, to goe without a guyde such weather as this.

Wil.

Sirra what companyes hath past your ferry this morning

Fer.

None but a cupple of gentlemen, that went to dyne at my Lord cheyneis.

Wil.

Shakbag did not I tell thée asmuch?

Fer.

Why sir, will you haue any letters caried to them

Wil.

No sir, get you gone.

Fer.

Did you euer see such a mist as this?

Wil.

No, nor such a foole as will rather be bought then get his way.

Fer.

Why sir, this is no hough munday, you ar deceiud

Whats his name I pray you sir?

Sha.

His name is black will.

Fer.

I hope to see him one day hangd vpon a hill.

Exit Ferriman.

Sha.

Sée how the Sunne hath cleard the foggy mist,

Now we haue mist the marke of our intent.

[Page] Here enters Grene Mosbye and Ales.

Mos.

Black Will and Shakbag, what make you héer

VVhat is the deed don? is Arden dead.

Wil.

VVhat could a blynded man performe in armes?

Saw you not how till now, the sky was darke,

That neither horse nor man could be decerned,

Yet did we heare their horses as they past.

Gre.

Haue they escapt you then, and past the ferry?

Sha.

I for a while, but here we two will stay.

And at their comming back meete with them once more,

Zounds I was nere so toylde in all my lyfe,

In following so slight a taske as this.

Mos.

Now camst thou so beraide?

Wil.

VVith making false footing in the dark,

He needs would follow them without a guide.

Ales.

Here's to pay for a fire and good chéere

Get you to Feuershame to the flowre deluce,

Andrest your selues vntil some other time.

Gre.

Let me alone, it most concernes my state.

Wil.

I mistres Arden this wil serue the turne,

In case we fal into a second fog.

Exeunt. Grene Will and Shak.

Mos.

These knaues wil neuer do it, let vs giue it ouer

Ales.

First tell me how you like my new deuice?

Soone when my husband is returning back,

You and I both marching arme in arme,

Lyke louing frends wele meete him on the way.

And boldly beard and braue him to his teeth:

VVhen words grow hot, and blowes beginne to ryse,

Ile call those cutters foorth your tenement,

VVho in a manner to take vp the fray,

Shall wound my husband hornesbie to the death.

Mos.

Ah fine deuise, why this deserues a kisse.

Exeunt.

Here enters Dicke Reede and a Sailer.

Sayler.

Faith Dick Rede it is to lytle end.

His conscience is too liberall, and he too nigardly.

[Page]To parte from any thing may doo thée good.

Rede

He is comming from Shorlow as I vnderstand,

Here ile intercept him, for at his house

He neuer will vouchafe to speake with me:

If prayers and faire intreaties will not serue,

Or make no battry in his flintye breast.

Here enters Fra. Ard. and Michaell.

Ile cursse the carle and sée what that will do.

Se where he comes, to further my intent,

M. Arden I am now bound to the sea,

My comming to you was about the plat of ground,

Which wrongfully you detaine from me.

Although the rent of it be very small,

Yet will it helpe my wife and children:

Which here I leaue in Feuershame God knowes,

Needy and bare, for Christ sake let them haue it,

Ard.

Francklin hearest thou this fellow speake?

That which he craues I dearely bought of him,

Although the rent of it was euer mine.

Sirra you, that aske these questions,

If with thy clamarous impeaching tongue

Thou raile on me, as I haue heard thou dost,

He lay thée vp so close a twelue months day,

As thou shalt neither sée the Sonne nor Moone,

Looke to it, for as surely as I liue,

Ile banish pittie if thou vse me thus.

Rede.

What wist thou do me wrong, & threat me too?

Nay then Ile tempt thee, Arden doo thy worst,

God I beseech thee show some miracle,

On thée or thine, in plauging thée for this.

That plot of ground, which thou detaines from me,

I speake it in an agony of spirite,

Be ruinous and fatall vnto thée:

Either there be butcherd by thy dearest fréends,

Or els be brought for men to wonder at.

Or thou or thine miscary in that place.

[Page]Or there runne mad, and end thy cursed dayes,

Fra.

Fy bitter knaue brydle thine enuious tongue,

For curses are like arrowes shot vpright,

Which falling doun light on the sutors head.

Rede.

Light where they will, were I vppon the sea,

As oft I haue in many a bitter storme,

And said a dreadfull suthern flaw at hand,

The Pylate quaking at the doubtfull storme,

And all the saylers praying on their knees,

Euen in that fearefull time would I fall down,

And aske of God, what ere betide of me,

Vengeance on Arden, or some misevent,

To shewe the world, what wrong the carle hath done,

This charge Ile leaue with wy distresfull wife.

My children shall be taught such praiers as these,

And thus I go but leaue my curse with thee.

Exeunt Rede & Sayler.

Ard.

It is the raylingest knaue in christendome,

And oftentimes the villaine will be mad,

It greatly matters not what he sayes,

But I assure you, I nere did him wrong.

Fra.

I think so M. Arden.

Ard.

Now that our horses are gone home before,

My wife may hapely mete me on the way,

For God knowes she is growne passing kinde of late,

And greatly chaunged from the oulde humor

Of her wounted frowardnes.

And seekes by faire meanes to redeeme ould faults.

Fra.

Happy the change, that alters for the best,

But see in any case you make no speache,

Of the cheare we had at my Lord Cheineis,

Although most bounteous and liberall,

For that will make her think her selfe more wrongd,

In that we did carry her a long,

For sure she greeued that she was left behinde,

[Page] Ard.

Come Francklin, let vs strain to mend our pace,

And take her vnawares playing the cooke.

Here enters Ales and Mosbie.

For I beléeue sheele stryue to mend our chéere.

Fran.

Why thers no better creaturs in the world

Then women are, when they are in good humors.

Ard.

Who is that? Mosbie, what so familiare?

Iniurious strumpet, and thou ribald knaue,

Unt wyne those armes.

Ales.

I with a sugred kisse, let them vntwine.

Ard.

Ah Mosbie, perturde beast, beare this and all.

Mos.

And yet no horned beast,

The hornes are thine.

Fran.

O monstrous, Nay then tis time to draw.

Ales

Helpe helpe, they murther my husband.

Here enters Will, and Shak,

Sha.

Zounds who iniures M. Mosbie.

Help Wil I am hurt.

Mos.

I may thank you Mistres arden for this wound,

Exeunt Mosby Will & Shakbag.

Ales.

Ah Arden what folly blinded thee?

Ah Ielious harebraine man what hast thou don,

When we to welcome thy intended sport.

Came louingly to mete thee on thy way.

Thou drewst thy sword inraged with Ielousy,

And hur [...]e thy freende,

Whose thoughts were frée from harme.

All for a woorthles kisse, and ioyning armes.

Both don but mir [...]ely to try thy patience.

And me vnhappy that deuysed the Iest,

Which though begonne in sporte, yet ends in bloode.

Fran.

Mary God defend me from such a Ieast.

Ales.

Could thou not see vs frendly smyle on thée.

When we ioynd armes and when I kist his cheeke.

Hast thou not lately found me ouer kinde?

Didst thou not heare me cry they murther thee.

[Page]Cald I not helpe to set my husband frée:

No, eares and all were witcht, ah me accurst,

To lincke in lyking with a frantick man,

Hence foorth Ile be thy slaue, no more thy wife:

For with that name I neuer shall content thee.

If He merry thou straight waies thinks me light.

If sad thou satest the sullens trouble me.

If well attyred thou thinks I will be gadding,

If homely, I seeme sluttish in thine eye.

Thus am I still, and shall be whill I die,

Poore wench abused by thy misgovernment,

Ard.

But is it for trueth, that neither thou nor he,

Entendedst malice in your misdemeanor.

Ales.

The heauens can witnes of our harmles thoghts

Ard.

Then pardon me sweete Ales,

And forgiue this faulte:

Forget but this, and neuer sée the lyke.

Impose me pennance, and I will performe it:

For in thy discontent I finde a death,

A death tormenting more then death it selfe,

Ales.

Nay hadst thou loued me as thou doest pretend,

Thou wouldst haue markt the speaches of thy frend,

Who going wounded from the palce, he said

His skinne was peirst only through my deuise,

And if sad so row taint thee for this falt,

Thou wouldst haue followed him, and sene him drest,

And cryde him mercy whome thou hast misdone,

Nere shall my hart be cased till this be done.

Arden.

Content thee sweet Ales thou shalt haue thy wil

What ere it be, For that I iniurde thee

And wrongd my frend, shame scourgeth my offence,

Come thou thy selfe and go along with me,

And be a mediator twixt vs two.

Fran.

Why M. Arden, know you what you do,

Will you follow him that hath dishonourd you,

Ales.

Why canst thou proue I haue bene disloyall.

[Page] Fran.

Why Mosbie traunt you husband with the horn,

Ales.

I after he had reuyled him,

By the iniuryous name of periurde beast,

He knew no wrong could spyte an Ielious man,

More then the hatefull naming of the horne.

Fran.

Suppose tis trew, yet is it dangerous.

To follow him whome he hath lately hurt,

Ales.

A fault confessed is more then halfe a mends,

But men of such ill spirite as your selfe.

Worke crosses and debates twixt man and wife.

Ard.

I pray the gentle Francklin holde thy peace,

I know my wife consels me for the best,

Ard.

Ile seeke out mosby, where his wouud is drest,

And salue his haples quarell if I may.

Exeunt Arden & Ales.

Fran.

He whome the diuel driues must go perforce,

Poore gentleman how sone he is bewitcht,

And yet because his wife is the instrument,

His frends must not be laush in their speach,

Exit Fran.

Here enters Will shakabage & Greene

Wil.

Sirra Greene when was I so long in killing a man.

Gre.

I think we shall neuer do it.

Let us giue it ouer.

Sha.

Nay Zounds wele kill him.

Though we be hangd at his dore for our labour.

Wil.

Thou knowest Greene that I have lived in

London this twelve yeers.

Where I have made some go uppon wodden legges,

For taking the wall on me,

Dyuers with siluer noses, for saying,

There goes blackwill.

I have crackt as many blades,

As thou hast done Nutes,

Gre.

O monstrous lye.

Will.

Faith in a manner I haue.

[Page]The bawdie houses haue paid me tribute,

There durst not a whore set vp, vnlesse she haue aggreed

with me first, for-opning her shoppe windowes.

For a crosee worde of a Tapster,

I haue pearced one barrell after another, with my dager,

And held him be the eares till all his beare hath run out,

In Temes streete a brewers carte was lyke to haue runne

ouer me, I made no more ado, but went to the clark

and cut all the natches of his tales,

and beat them about his head.

I and my companye haue taken the Constable from his watch,

And carried him about the fields on a coltstaffe.

I haue broken a Sariants head with his owne mace,

And build whome I list with my sword and buckler.

All the tenpenny alehouse would stand euery morning,

With a quart pot in his ha [...]d,

Saying will it please your worship drinke:

He that had not doone so had beene sure to haue had tis

Singne puld down, & his latice borne away the next right

To conclude, what haue I not done it cannot do this,

Doubtles he is preserued by Miracle.

Here enters Ales and Michaell.

Gie.

Hence Will, here comes M. Arden.

Ales.

Ah gentle michaell art thou sure their frends

Mic.

Why I saw them when they both shoke hands,

When Mosbie bled, he euen wept for sorrow:

And raild on Francklin that was cause of all.

No sooner came the Surgen in at doores,

But my M. tooke to his purse, and gaue him money.

And to conclude, sent me to bring you word,

That Mosbie, Francklin, Bradshaw, Adam fewle,

With diuers of his neighbors, and his frends,

Will come and sup with you at our house this night.

Ales.

Ah gentle Michaell, runne thou bak againe,

And when my husband walkes into the faire,

Bid Mosbie steale from him, and come to me.

[Page]And this night shal thou and Susan be made sure,

Mic.

Ile go tell him.

Ales.

And as thou goest, tell Iohn cooke of our guests,

And bid him lay it on, spare for no coast.

Exit Michaell.

Wil.

Nay and there be such cheere, we wil bid our selues

Mistres Arden, Dick Greene & I do meane to sup w^t you,

Ales.

And welcome shall you be, ah gentlemen,

Now must you of your purpose yesternight?

Gre.

Twas long of shak [...]bag that vnluckye villaine.

Sha.

Thou doest me wrong, I did as much as any.

Wil.

Nay, then M. Ales, Ile tell you how it was,

When he should haue lockt with both his huts,

He to a brauery florisht ouer his head

With that comes Francklin at him lustely

And hurts the slaue, with that he slinks away,

Now his way had bene to haue come hand and féete,

one and two round at his costerd.

He lyke a loose beares his sword point halfe a yarde out

of danger, I lye here for m [...] lyfe.

If the deui [...]l come, and he haue no more strength then sence

He shall neuer beat me from this warde,

He stand to it, a buckler in a skilfull hand,

Is as good as a castell.

Nay tis better then a sconce, for I haue tryde it.

Mosbie perceiuing this, began to faint.

With that comes Arden with his arming sword,

And thrust him through the shoulder in a tryce.

Ales.

I but I wonder why you both stoode still.

Wil.

Faith I was so amazed I could not strike.

Ales.

Ah sirs had he yesternight bene slaine,

For euery drop of his detested bloode,

I would cranime in Angels in thy fist.

And kist thee too, and hugd thee in my armes.

Wil.

Patient your selfe, we can not help it now,

Greene and we two, will dogge him through the faire,

And stab him in the croud, and steale away,

[Page] Here enters Mosbye.

Ales.

It is vnpossible, but here comes he,

That will I hope inuent some surer meanes.

Swete Mosbie hide thy arme, it kils my hart.

Mos.

I mistres Arden, this is your fauour,

Ales.

Ah say not so for when I sawe thee hurt,

I could haue toke the weapon thou letst fall,

And cunne at Arden, for I haue sworne,

That these mine eyes offended with his sight,

Shall neuer close, til Ardens be shut vp,

This night I rose and walkt about the chamber.

And twise or thrise, I thought to haue murthred him,

Mos.

What in the night, then had we bene vndone,

Ales

Why, how long shall he liue?

Mos

Fraith Ales no longer then this night.

Black Will and shakbag, will you two

Performe the complot that I haue laid.

Will.

I or els think me as a villaine.

Gre.

And rather then you shall want,

He help my selfe.

Mos.

You M. Greene shal single Francklin foorth,

And hould him with a long tale of strange newes:

That he may not come home till suppertime.

Ile fetch M. Arden home, & we like frends.

Will play a game or two at tables here,

Ales

But what of all this?

Now shall he be staine?

Mosbie

Why black Wil and shakebag lockt within the countinghouse,

Shall at a certaine watchword giuen, rush foorth,

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 kepe the key thy selfe.

Mos.

Come M. Gréene, go you along with me.

[Page]Sée all things ready Ales against we come.

Ales.

Take no care for that, send you him home.

Exeunt Mosbie and Greene.

And if he ere go forth againe, blame me,

Come blacke Will that in mine eies art faire,

Next vnto Mosbie doe I honour thée,

Instead of faire wordes and large promises,

My hands shall play you goulden harmonie,

Now like you this? say, will you doe it sirs?

Will.

I and that brauely too, marke my deuice.

Place Mosbie being a stranger in a chaire,

And let your husband sit vpon a stoole,

That I may come behind him cunninglie,

And with a to well pull him to the ground,

Then stab him till his flesh be as a sine,

That doone beare him behind the Abby,

That those that finde him murthered, may suppose

Some slaue or other kild him for his golde.

Ales.

A fine deuice, you shall haue twenty pound,

And when he is dead, you shal haue forty more.

And least you might be suspected staying heere,

Michaell shall saddle you two lusty geldings.

Ryde whether you will to Scotland or to Wales.

He see you shall not lacke, where ere you be.

Wil

Such wordes would make one kill 1000. men.

Giue 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.

Lush you are too faint harted, we must do it.

Ales.

But Mosbie will be there, whose very lookes,

Will ad vnwounted courage to my thought,

And make me the first that shall aduenture on him,

Wil.

Lush get you gone, tis we must do the deede.

When this doore oppens next looke for his death

Ales.

Ah, would be now were here, that it might oppen

I shaling more be closed in Ardens armes,

[Page]That lyke the snakes of blacke Tisiphone,

Sting me with their enbraceings, mosbies armes

Shal compasse me, and were I made a starre,

I would haue none other spheres but those.

There is no nedor, but in Mosbies lypes,

Had chast Diana kist him, she like me

Would grow loue sicke, and from her watrie bower,

Fling down Endimion and snath him vp:

Then blame not me, that stay a silly man,

Not halfe so louely as Endimion.

Here enters Michaell.

Mic.

Mistres my maister is comming hard by,

Ales.

Who comes with him.

Mic.

No body but mosbye.

Ales.

Thats will michaell, fetch in the tables,

And when thou hast done, stand before the countinghouse doore.

Mic.

Why so?

Ales.

Black will is lockt within, to do the déede.

Mic,

What shull he die to night?

Ales.

I michaell▪

Mic.

But shall not susan know it?

Ales.

Yes for shele be as seereete as our selues.

Mic.

Thats braue, Ile go fetch the tables.

Ales.

But michaell hearke to me a word or two,

When my husband is come in lock the streete doore:

He shall be murthred or the guests come in.

Exit mic,

Here enters Arden & Mosbie.

Husband what meane you to bring mosby home?

Although I wisht you to be reconciled,

Twas more for feare of you, then loue of him,

Black Will and Greene, are his companions,

And they are cutters, and may cut you shorte,

Therefore I thought it good to make you frends.

[Page]But wherefore do you bring him hether now,

You haue giuen me my supper with his sight,

Mos.

M. Arden me thinks your wife would haue me gone.

Arden.

No good M. Mosbie, women will be prating,

Ales bid him welcome, he and I are frends.

Ales

You may inforce me to it, if you will.

But I had rather die then bid him welcome,

Die company hath purchest me ill frends.

And therefore wil I nere frequent it more.

Mos.

Oh how cunningly she can dissemble.

Ard.

Now he is here you wil not serue me so.

Ales.

I pray you be not angree or displeased

Ile bid him welcome seing youle haue it so,

You are welcome M. Mosbie will you sit down.

Mos.

I know I am welcome to your louing husband,

But for your selfe, you speake not from your hart.

Ales.

And if I do not, sir think I haue cause.

Mos.

Pardon me M. Arden, Ile away.

Ard.

No good M. Mosbie.

Ales.

We shal haue guests enough, thogh you go hence

Mos.

I pray you M. Arden let me go

Ard.

I pray thee Mosbie let her prate her fill,

Ale.

The dores are open sir, you may be gone.

Mic.

Nay thats a lye, for I haue lockt the dores.

Ard.

Sirra fetch me a cup of Wine.

Ile make them freends.

And gentle M. Ales, seeing you are so stout,

You shal beginne, frowne not, Ile haue it so.

Ales

I pray you meddle with that you haue to do.

Ard.

Why Ales? how can I do too much for him,

Whose lyfe I haue endaungered without cause.

Ale.

Tis true, & seeing twas partly through my means

I am content to drinke to him for this once.

Here M. Mosbie, and I pray you hence forth,

Be you as straunge to me, as I to you

Your company hath purchased me ill freends.

[Page]And I for you God knowes, haue vndeserued

Beene ill spoken of in euery place.

Therefore hencefoorth frequent my house no more.

Mos.

Ile see your husband in dispight of you,

Yet Arden I protest to thee by heauen,

Thou nere shalt see me more, after this night.

Ile go to Roome rather then be forsworne.

Ar.

Tush Ile haue no such vowes made in my house.

Ales.

Yes I pray you husband let him sweare,

And on that condition Mosbie pledge me here.

Mos.

I as willingly as I meane to liue.

Ard.

Come Ales, is our supper ready yet?

Ales.

It wil by then you haue plaid a game at tables,

Ard.

Come M. Mosbie, what shall we play for?

Mos.

Thrée games for a french crowne sir,

And please you.

Ard.

Content.

Then they play at the Tables.

Wil

Can he not take him yet? what a spight is that?

Ales

Not yet Will, take hede he see thee not?

Wil.

I feare he will spy me, as I am coming,

Mic.

To preuent that, creepe betwixt my legs

Mos.

One ace, or els I lose the game.

Ard.

Mary sir theres two for fayling.

Mos.

Ah M. Arden (now I can take you)

Then Will pulles him down with a towell

Ard.

Mosbie, Michaell, Ales, what will you do?

Will

Nothing but take you vp sir, nothing els.

Mos.

Thers for the pressing Iron you tould me of.

Sha.

And ther's for the ten pound in my sleeue,

Ales.

What, grones thou? nay then giue me y^• weapō,

Take this for hindring Mosbies loue and mine.

Michaell.

D Mistres.

Will

Ah that villaine wil betray vs all,

Mos.

Tush feare him not, he will be secrete,

Mic.

Why dost thou think I will betray my selfe?

[Page] Sha.

In South warke dwels a bonnie northerne lasse,

The widow Chambley, ile to her house now,

Ind if she will not giue me harborough,

He make bootie of the queane euen to her smocke.

Will.

Shift for your selues we two will leaue you now

Ales.

First lay the bodie in the countinghouse.

Then they lay the body in the Countinghouse.

Will.

We haue our gould mistris Ales, adew,

Mosbie farewell, and Michaell farewell too.

Exeunt

Enter Susan.

Susan.

Mistres, the guests are at the doores.

Hearken they knocke, what shall I let them in?

Ales.

Mosbie go thou & beare them companie.

Exit. M.

And susan fetch water and wash away this bloode,

Susan.

The bloode cleaueth to the ground & will not out

Ales.

But with my nailes ile scrape away the blood,

The more I striue the more the blood appeares:

Susan.

Whats the reason M. can you tell?

Ales.

Because I blush not at my husbands death.

Here enters Mosbie.

Mos.

Now now, whats the matter? is all well?

Ale.

I wel, if Arden were aliue againe.

In vaine we striue, for here his blood remains,

Mos.

Why strew rushes on it, can you not,

This wench doth nothing fall vnto the worke.

Ales.

Twas thou that made me murther him,

Mos.

What of that?

Ales.

Nay nothing Mosbie so it be not known.

Mos.

Kéepe thou it close, and tis vnpossible,

Ales.

Ah but I can not, was he not staine by me,

My husbands death torments me at the hart.

Mos.

It shall not long torment thee gentle Ales,

I am thy husband, thinke no more of him.

Here enters Adam fowle and Brad,

Brad.

Now now M. Arden? what ayle you wéepe?

[Page] Mos.

Because her husband is abroad so late.

A cupple of Ruffins threatned him yesternight,

And she poore soule is affraid he should be hurt.

Adam

It nothing els? tush hele be here anone.

Here enters Greene.

Gre.

Now M. Arden lacke you any guests.

Ales.

Ah M. Greene, did you se my husband lately,

Gre.

I saw him walking behinde the Abby euen now,

Here enters Francklin.

Ales.

I do not like this being out so late,

M. Francklin where did you leaue my husband.

Fra.

Beleeue me I saw him not since Morning,

Feare you not hele come anone, meane time

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, Ile haue my will.

M. Mosbie sit you in my husbands seat.

Michaell

Susan shall thou and I wait on them,

Or and thou saith the word let vs sit down too.

Su.

Peace we haue other matters now in hand.

I feare me Michael al wilbe bewraied.

Mic.

Tush so it be knowne that I shal marry thée in the

Morning, I care not though I be hangde ere night.

But to preuent the worst, Ile by some rats bane.

Su.

Why Michael wilt thou poyson thy selfe?

Mic.

No, but my mistres, for I feare shele tell.

Su.

Tush Michel feare not her, she's wise enough.

Mos.

Sirra Michell giues a cup of beare.

M. Arden, heers to your husband.

Ales.

My husband?

Fra.

What ailes you woman, to crie so suddenly.

Ales.

Ah neighbors a sudden qualm came ouer my hart

My husbands being foorth torments my minde.

I know some thing's amisse, he is not well.

Or els I should haue heard of him ere now.

Mo.

She will vndo vs, through her foolishnes.

[Page] Gre.

Feare not M. Arden, he's well enough.

Ales.

Tell not me, I know he is not well,

He was not wount for to stay thus late.

Good M. Francklin go and seeke him foorth,

And if you finde him send him home to mee.

And tell him what a feare he hath put me in.

Fra.

Ilyke not this, I pray God all be well

Exeunt Fra. Mos. & Gre.

Ile seeke him out, and find him if I can.

Ales.

Michaell how shall I doo to rid the rest away?

Mic.

Leaue that to my charge, let me alone,

Tis very late M. Bradshaw,

And there are many false knaues abroad,

And you haue many narrow lanes to pas.

Brad.

Faith frend Michaell and thou saiest trew,

Therefore I pray thee lights foorth, and lends a linck

Exeunt Brad, Adam, & Michael.

Ales.

Michael bring them to the dores, but doo not stay,

You know I do not loue to be alone.

Go Susan and bid thy brother come,

But wherefore should he come? Heere is nought but feare.

Stay Susan stay, and helpe to counsell me.

Susan.

Alas I counsell, feare frights away my wits,

Then they open the countinghouse doore, and looke vppon Arden.

Ales.

Sée Susan where thy quandam Maister lyes,

Sweete Arden smeard in bloode and filthy gore.

Susan.

My brother, you, and I, shall rue this déede.

Ales

Come susan help to lift his body forth,

And let our salt teares be his obsequies.

Here enters Mosbie and Greene.

Mos.

Now now Ales whether will you beare him

Ales.

Sweete Mosbie art thou come?

Then weepe that will.

I haue my wishe in that I ioy thy sight.

Gre.

Well it houes vs to be circumspect.

[Page] Mos.

I for Francklin thinks that we haue murthred him.

Ales.

I but he can not proue it for his lyfe,

Wele spend this night in daliance and in sport.

Here enters Michaell

Mic.

O mistres the Maior and all the watch,

Are comming towards our house with glaues & billes.

Ales.

Make the dore fast, let them not come in,

Mos.

Tell me swete Ales how shal I escape?

Ales.

Out at the back dore, ouer the pyle of woode.

And for one night ly at the floure deluce,

Mos.

That is the next way to betray my selfe.

Gre.

Alas M. Arden the watch will take me here,

And cause suspition, where els would be none.

Ales

Why take that way that M. Mosbie doeth,

But first conuey the body to the fields.

Then they beare the body into the fields

Mos.

Until to morrow, swéete Ales now farewel,

And see you confesse nothing in any case.

Gre.

Be resolute M. Ales, betray vs not,

But cleaue to vs as we wil stick to you,

Exeunt Mosbie & Grene.

Ales

Now let the indge and iuries do their worst,

My house is cleare, and now I seare them not.

Susan

As we went it snowed al the way,

Which makes me feare, our footesteps will be spyed.

Ales

Peace foole, the snow wil couer them againe.

Susan

But it had done before we came back againe.

Ales

Hearke hearke, they knocke,

go Michaell let them in.

Here enters the Maior and the Watch.

Now now M. Maior, haue you brought my husband home

Maior,

I sawe him come into your house an hour agoe

Ales.

You are deceiued, it was a Londoner,

Maior

Mistres Arden know you not one that is called blacke Will.

Ales

I know none such, what meane these questions

[Page] Maior.

I haue the counsels warrand to aprehend him

Ales.

I am glad it is no worse.

Why M. maior thinke you I harbour any such?

Ma.

We are informd that here he is.

And therefore pardon vs, for we must search.

Ales

I search and spare you not, through euery roome,

Were my husband at home, you would not offer this,

Here enters Francklin.

M. Francklin what meane you come so sad.

Fra.

Arden thy husband, and my fréend, is slaine,

Ales.

Ah, by whome? M. Francklin can you tell?

Fra.

I know not, but behind the abby,

There helyes murthred in most pittious case,

Mai.

But M. Francklin are you sure tis he,

Fra.

I am too sure, would God I were deceiued.

Ales.

Finde out the Murthrers let them be knowne,

Fran.

I so they shall, come you along with vs.

Ales.

Wherefore?

Fran.

know you this handtowel and this knyfe?

Su.

Ah michael through this thy negligence.

Thou hast betraied and vndone vs all.

Mic.

I was so affraide, I knew not what I did,

I thought I had throwne them both into the well.

Ales.

It is the pigs bloode we had to supper.

But wherefore stay you? finde out the murthrers.

Ma.

I feare me youle proue one of them your selfe.

Ale.

I one of them, what meane such questions.

Fra.

I feare me he was murthred in this house.

And carried to the fields, for from that place,

Backwards and forwards may you see,

The print of many feete within the snow,

And looke about this chamber where we are,

And you shall finde part of his giltles bloode,

For in his slipshoe did I finde some rushes.

Which argueth he was murthred in this roome.

Ma.

Looke in the place where he was wont to sit.

[Page]Sèe see his blood it is too manifest,

Ales

It is a cup of Wine that michaell shed.

Mic.

I truely.

Fran.

It is his bloode, which strumpet thou hast shed,

But if I liue thou and thy complices,

Which have conspired and wrought his death,

Shall rue it.

Ales

Ah M. Francklin God and heauen can tell,

I loued him more then all the world beside.

But bring me to him let me sée his body.

Fra.

Bring that villaine and mosbies sister too,

And one of you go to the flowre deluce.

And séeke for mosbie, and apprehend him to.

Exeunt

Here enters shakebag solus.

Sh.

The widdow chambly in her husbands dayes I kept

And now he's dead, she is growne so stout

She will not know her ould companions,

I came thither thinking to haue had

Harbour as I was wount

And she was ready to thrust me out at doores,

But whether she would or no, I got me up,

And as she followed me I spurnd her down the staires,

And broke her neck, and cut her tapsters throat,

And now I am going to sting them in the Temes,

I have the gould, what care I though it be knowne?

Ile crosse the water and take sanctuary.

Exit shakbag. Here enters the Maior, Mosbie. Ales, Francklin, Michaell and Susan.

Maior

Sée M. Arden where your husband lyes.

Confesse this foule fault and be penitent.

Ales

Arden sweete husband, what shall I say?

The more I found his name, the more he bleedes.

This bloode condemnes me, and in gushing foorth

Speakes as it falles, and askes me why I did it,

Forgiue me Arden, I repent me nowe,

[Page]And would my death saue thine, thou shouldst not dye,

Ryse vp swete Arden and enioy thy loue.

And frowne not on me when we mete in heauen,

In heauen I loue thee, though on earth I did not,

Maior

Say Mosby what made thée murther him,

Fra.

Study not for an asnwer, looke not down

His pursse and girdle found at thy beds head,

Witnes sufficiently thou didst the deede.

It bootles is to sweare thou didst it not,

Mos.

I hyred black Will and Shakebagge, Ruffynes both,

And they and I haue done this murthrous deed,

But wherefore stay we?

Come and beare me hence.

Fran.

Those Ruffins shall not escape,

I will vp to London, and get the counsels warrand to apprehend them.

Exeunt.

Here enters Will.

Will.

Shakebag I heare hath taken sanctuary,

But I am so pursued with hues and cryes,

For petty robberies that I haue done,

That I can come vnto no Sanctuary.

Therefore must I in some Oyster bote,

At last, be faine to go a boord some Hoye.

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 couerd my head,

And run full blanck, at all aduentures,

I am sure I had nere gone further then that place,

For the Constable had 20 warrands to apprehend me,

Besides that, I robbed him and his Man once at Gades hill,

Farewell England, Ile to Flushing now.

Exit Will.

Here enters the Maior, Mosbye, Ales, Michaell, Susan, and Bradshaw.

Maior.

Come make haste & bring away the prisoners.

[Page] 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 trueth,

Was I euer priuie to your intent or no?

Ales

What should I say?

You brought me such a letter.

But I dare sweare thou knewest not the contents.

Leaue now to trouble me with wordly things.

And let me meditate vpon my sauiour Christ,

Whose bloode must saue me for the bloode I shed,

Mos.

How long shall I live in this hell of griefe?

Conuey me from the presence of that strumpet.

Ales.

Ah but for thee I had neuer beene strumpet

What can not oathes and prote stations doe?

When men haue opportunity to woe.

I was too young to sound thy villanies.

But now I finde it, and repent too late.

Su.

Ah gentle brother, wherefore should I die.

I knew not of it, till the deed was don.

Mos.

For thée I mourne more then for my selfe,

But let it suffice, I can not saue thee now,

Mic.

And if your brother and my Mistres.

Had not promised me you in marriage,

I had nere giuen consent, to this foule deede.

Maior

Leaue to accuse each other now,

And listen to the sentence I shall giue.

Beare Mosbie and his sister to London straight,

Where they in smithfield must be executed.

Beare M. Arden unto Canterburye,

Where her sentence is she must be burnt.

Michaell and Bradshaw in Feuershame

must suffer death.

Ales

Let my death make a mends for all my sinnes,

Mos.

Fy vpon women, this shall be my song,

But beare me hence, for I haue liued to long.

[Page] Susan

Seing no hope on earth, in heauen is my hope.

Mic.

Faith I care not seeing I die with Susan.

Brad.

My bloode be on his head that gaue the sentence,

Maior

To speedy execution with them all.

Exeunt

Heere enters Francklin.

Fran.

Thus haue you seene the trueth of Ardens death

As for the Ruffins, Shakbag and blacke Will,

The one tooke Sanctuary, and being sent for out.

Was murthred in Southwark, as he past

To Greenewitch, where the Lord Protector lay.

Black Will was burnt in flushing on a stage.

Grèene was hanged at Osbridge in Rent.

The Painter fled, & how he dyed we know not.

But this aboue the rest is to be noted,

Arden lay murthred in that plot of ground,

Which he by force and violence held from Rede.

And in the grasse his bodyes print was seene,

Two yéeres and more after the deede was doone

Gentlemen we hope youle pardon this naked Tragedy,

Wherin no filed points are foilted in,

To make it gratious to the eare or eye.

For simple trusth is gratious enough:

And needes no other points of glosing stuffe.

FINIS.

[Page]

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