William Shakespeare - The Complete Apocryphal Works of William Shakespeare - All 17 Rare Plays in One Edition

MOSBIE

Measure me what I am, not what I was.

ARDEN

Why, what art thou now but a velvet drudge,

A cheating steward, and base minded peasant.

MOSBIE

Arden, now thou hast belched and vomited

The rancorous venom of thy mis-swoll’n heart,

Hear me but speak: as I intend to live

With god and his elected saints in heaven,

I never meant more to solicit her;

And that she knows, and all the worldshall see,

I loved her once; - sweet Arden, pardon me,

I could not choose, her beauty fired my heart!

Forget them, Mosbie: I had cause to speak,

When all the knights and gentlemen of kent

Make common table-talk of her and thee.

MOSBIE

Who lives that is not touched with slanderous tongues.

FRANKLIN

Then, Mosbie, to eschew the speech of men,

Upon whose general bruit all honor hangs,

Forbear his house.

ARDEN

Forbear it! Nay, rather frequent it more.

To warn him on the sudden from my house

Were to confirm the rumor that is grown.

MOSBIE

by my faith, sir, you say true,

And therefore will I sojourn here a while,

Until our enemies have talked their fill.

And then, I hope, they’ll cease, and at last confess

How causeless they have injured her and me.

ARDEN

And I will lie at London all this term

To let them see how light I weigh their words. (here enters ALICE

ALICE

Husband sit down, your breakfast will be cold.

ARDEN

Come, master Mosbie, will you sit with us?

MOSBIE

I can not eat, but I’ll sit for company.

ARDEN

Sirrah Michael, see our horse be ready.

ALICE

Husband, why pause ye? Why eat you not?

ARDEN

I am not well; there’s something in the broth

That is not wholesome: didst thou make it, Alice?

ALICE

I did, and that’s the cause it likes not you.

(then she throws down the broth on the ground.

There’s nothing that I do can please your taste;

You were best to say I would have poisoned you.

I cannot speak or cast aside my eye,

But he imagines I have stepped awry.

Here’s he that you cast in my teeth so oft:

Now will I be convinced or purge myself.

I charge thee speak to this mistrustful man,

Thou that wouldst see me hang, thou, Mosbie, thou,

What favor hast thou had more than a kiss

At coming or departing from the town?

Mosb. You wrong yourself and me to cast these doubts,

Your loving husband is not jealous.

ARDEN

Why, gentle mistress Alice, can not I be ill,

But you’ll accuse yourself?

Franklin, thou hast a box of mithridate.

I’ll take a little to prevent the worst.

FRANKLIN

Do so, and let us presently take horse;

My life for yours, ye shall do well enough.

ALICE

Give me a spoon, I’ll eat of it myself;

Would it were full of poison to the brim,

Then should my cares and troubles have an end.

ARDEN

Be patient, sweet love; I mistrust not thee.

ALICE

God will revenge it, Arden, if thou dost;

For never woman loved her husband better than I do thee.

ARDEN

I know it, sweet Alice; cease to complain,

Lest that in tears I answer thee again.

FRANKLIN

Come, leave this dallying, and let us away.

ALICE

Forbear to wound me with that bitter word,

Arden shall go to London in my arms.

ARDEN

Loath am I to depart, yet I must go.

ALICE

Wilt thou to London, then, and leave me here?

Ah, if you love me, gentle Arden, stay.

Yet, if thy business be of great import

Go, if thou silt, I’ll bear it as I may;

But write from London to me every week,

Nay, every day, and stay no longer there

Than thou must needs, lest that I die for sorrow.

ARDEN

I’ll write unto thee every other tide,

And so, farewell, sweet Alice, till we meet next.

ALICE

Farewell, husband, seeing you’ll have it so.

And, master Franklin, seeing you take him hence,

In hope you’ll hasten him home, I’ll give you this.

(and then she kisseth him.

FRANKLIN

And if he stay, the fault shall not be mine.

Mosbie, farewell, and see you keep your oath.

MOSBIE

I hope he is not jealous of me now.

ARDEN

No, Mosbie, no; hereafter think of me

As of your dearest friend, and so farewell.

Exeunt Arden, Franklin, and MICHAEL

ALICE

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

But did you mark me then how I brake off?

MOSBIE

Ay, Alice, and it was cunningly performed.

Never hereafter to solicit thee,

Or, whilst he lives, once more importune thee.

ALICE

Thou shalt not need, I will importune thee.

What? Shall an oath make thee forsake my love?

As if I have not sworn as much myself

And given my hand unto him in the church!

Tush, Mosbie; oaths are words, and words is wind,

‘tis childishness to stand upon an oath.

MOSBIE

Well proved, mistress Alice; yet by your leave,

I’ll keep mine unbroken whilst he lives.

ALICE

Ay, do, and spare not, his time is but short,

For if thou be’st as resolute as i,

We’ll have him murdered as he walks the streets.

In London many alehouse ruffians keep,

Which, as I hear, will murder men for gold.

They shall be soundly fee’d to pay him home. (here enters GREENE