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

A worsted stocking rent above the shoe,

A livery cloak, but all the lace was off;

‘twas bad, but yet it served to hide the plate.

WILL

Sirrah Shakebag, canst thou remember

Since we trolled the bowl at sittingburgh

Where I broke the tapster’s head of the lion

With a cudgel-stick?

SHAKEBAG

Ay, very well, WILL

WILL

Why, it was with the money that the plate was sold for.

Sirrah Bradshow, what wilt thou give him

That can tell thee who sold thy plate?

BRADSHAW

Who, I pray thee, good Will?

WILL

Why, ‘twas one jack fitten.

He’s now in newgate for stealing a horse,

And shall be arraigned the next ‘size.

For I’ll back and tell him who robbed him of his plate.

This cheers my heart; master Greene, I’ll leave you,

For I must to the isle of sheppy with speed.

GREENE

Before you go, let me intreat you

To carry this letter to mistress Arden of feversham,

And humbly recommend me to her self.

BRADSHAW

That will i, master Greene, and so farewell.

Here, Will, there’s a crown for thy good news. (Exit BRADSHAW

WILL

Farewell, Bradshaw,

I’ll drink no water for thy sake whilst this lasts.

Now gentlemen, shall we have your company to London?

GREENE

Nay, stay, sirs: a little more I needs must use your help,

And in a matter of great consequence,

Wherein if you’ll be secret and profound,

I’ll give you twenty angels for your pains.

WILL

How? Twenty angels? Give my fellow

George Shakebag and me twenty angels?

And if thou’lt have thy own father slain,

That thou may’st inherit his land, we’ll kill him.

SHAKEBAG

Ay, thy mother, thy sister, thy

With mighty furrows in his stormy brows;

GREENE

Well, this it is: Arden of feversham

Hath highly wronged me about the abbey land,

That no revenge but death will serve the turn.

Will you two kill him? Here’s the angels down,

And I will lay the platform of his death.

WILL

Plat me no platforms; give me the money

And I’ll stab him as he stands pissing against a wall,

But I’ll kill him.

SHAKEBAG

Where is he?

GREENE

He is now at London, in aldersgate street.

SHAKEBAG

He’s dead as if he had been condemned

by an act of parliament, if once Black Will and i

Swear his death.

GREENE

Here is ten pound, and when he is dead,

Ye shall have twenty more.

WILL

My fingers itch to be at the peasant.

Ah, that I might be set a work thus through the year

And that murder would grow to an occupation,

That a man might, without danger of law,

Come, let us be going, and we’ll bate at rochester,

Where I’ll give thee a gallon of sack,

To handsel the match with all. (Exeunt. Here enters MICHAEL

MICHAEL

I have gotten such a letter,

As will touch the painter: and thus it is…

(here Enter Arden and Franklin and hear Michael read this letter.

‘my duty remembered, mistress Susan, hoping in god you be in

Good health, as i, Michael was at the making hereof. This is to

Certify you that as the turtle true, when she hath lost her mate,

Sitteth alone so i, mourning for your absence, do walk up and down

Paul’s till one day I fell asleep and lost my master’s pantofles.

Ah, mistress Susan, abolish that paltry painter, cut him off by the

Shins with a frowning look of your crabbed countenance, and think

And do ye slack his business for your own?

ARDEN

Where is the letter, sirrah? Let me see it.

(then he gives him the letter.

See, master Franklin, here’s proper stuff:

Susan my maid, the painter, and my man,

A crew of harlots, all in love, forsooth;

Sirrah, let me hear no more of this,

Nor for thy life once write to her a word.

(here Enter Greene, Will, and SHAKEBAG

Wilt thou be married to so base a trull?

‘tis Mosbie’s sister: come I once at home,

I’ll rouse her from remaining in my house.

Now, master Franklin, let us go walk in paul’s,

Come but a turn or two, and then away. (Exeunt.

GREENE

The first is Arden, and that’s his man.

The other is Franklin, Arden’s dearest friend.

WILL

Zounds, I’ll kill them all three.

GREENE

Hay, sirs, touch not his man in any case,

But stand close, and take you fittest standing,

And at his coming forth, speed him:

To the nag’s head, there’s this coward’s haunt.

SHAKEBAG

If he be not paid his own, ne’er trust SHAKEBAG

WILL

Sirrah Shakebag, at his coming forth

I’ll run him through, and then to the blackfriars,

And there take water and away.

SHAKEBAG

Why, that’s the best; but see thou miss him not.

WILL

How can I miss him, when I think on the forty

Angels I must have more? (here enters a prentice.

PRENTICE

‘tis very late; I were best shut up my stall,

For here will be old filching, when the press comes forth

Of paul’s. (then lets down his window, and it breaks Black Will’s head.

WILL

Zounds, draw, Shakebag, draw, I am almost kill’d.

PRENTICE

We’ll tame you, I warrant.

WILL

Zounds, I am tame enough already.

(here Enter Arden, Franklin, and MICHAEL

ARDEN

What troublesome fray or mutiny is this?

FRANKLIN