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
MOSBIE
Alice, what’s he that comes yonder?
Knowest thou him?
ALICE
Mosbie, be gone: I hope ‘tis one that comes
To put in practice our intended drifts. (Exit MOSBIE
GREENE
Mistress Arden, you are well met.
I am sorry that your husband is from home,
When as my purposed journey was to him:
Yet all my labor is not spent in vain,
For I suppose that you can full discourse
And flat resolve me of the thing I seek.
ALICE
What is it, master Greene? If that I may
Or can with safety, I will answer you.
GREENE
I heard your husband had the grant of late,
Confirmed by letters patent from the king.
Of all the lands of the abbey of feversham,
Generally intitled, so that all former grants
Are cut off; whereof I myself had one;
But now my interest by that is void.
This is all, mistress Arden; is it true or no?
ALICE
True, master Greene; the lands are his in state,
And whatsoever leases were before
Are void for term of master Arden’s life;
He hath the grant under the chancery seal.
GREENE
Pardon me, mistress Arden, I must speak
For I am touched. Your husband doth me wrong
To wring me from the little land I have.
My living is my life, only that
Resteth remainder of my portion.
Desire of wealth is endless in his mind,
And he is greedy gaping still for gain;
Nor cares he though young gentlemen do beg,
And so, as he shall wish the abbey lands
Had rested still, within their former state.
But seeing he hath taken my lands, I’ll value life
As careless, as he is careful for to get,
And tell him this from me, I’ll be revenged,
And so, as he shall wish the abbey lands
Had rested still, within their former state.
ALICE
Alas, poor gentleman, I pity you,
And woe is me that any man should want,
God knows ‘tis not my fault, but wonder not
Though he be hard to others, when to me,
Ah master Greene, god knows how I am used.
GREENE
Why, mistress Arden, can the crabbed churl
Use you unkindly, respects he not your birth,
Your honorable friends, nor what you brought?
Why, all kent knows your parentage, and what you are.
ALICE
Ah, master Greene, be it spoken in secret here,
I never live good day with him alone:
When he is at home, then have I forward looks,
Hard words and blows, to mend the match withal;
And though I might content as good a man,
Yet doth he keep in every corner trulls,
And weary with his trugs at home,
Then rides he straight to London, there forsooth
He revels it among such filthy ones,
As counsel him to make away his wife;
Thus live I daily in continual fear,
In sorrow, so dispairing of redress
As every day I wish with hearty prayer,
That he or I were taken forth the world.
GREENE
Now trust me mistress Alice, it grieveth me,
GREENE
Ay, god’s my witness, I mean plain dealing,
For I had rather die then lose my land.
ALICE
Then master Greene be counselled by me:
Endanger not your self for such a churl,
But hire some cutter for to cut him short,
And here’s ten pound, to wager them with all,
When he is dead you shall have twenty more.
And the lands whereof my husband is possess’d,
Shall be intitled as they were before.
GREENE
Will you keep promise with me?
GREENE
Then here’s my hand I’ll have
