FRANKLIN

ARden cheer up thy spirits and drop no more My gracious Lord y e Duke of Somerset ; Hath freely given to thee and to thy heirs, By letters patents from his Majesty: All the lands of the Abbey of Feuershame. Her are the deeds sealed & subscribed w to his name and the kings, Read them, and leave this melancholy mood Comfort thy self sweet friend it is not strange, That women will be false and wavering. No noble man will countnaunce such a peasant, Be patient gentle friend and learn of me, To ease thy grief, and save her chastity: Entreat her fair sweet words are fittest engines To raze the flint walls of a woman's breast: In any case be not too Ielyouse, Nor make no question of her love to thee, But as securely, presently take horse, And lie with me at London all this term For women when they may, will not, But being kept back, straight grow outrageous. Arden leave to vrdge her over far. He will not stay above a month at most. Why canst thou deny, thou Wertenberg a butcher once, Do so, and let us presently take horse, My life for yours you shall do well enough. Come leave this dallying, and let us away. And if he stay the fault shall not be mine, Mosbie farewell and see you keep your oath. Faith friend Michael, this is very ill, Knowing your master hath no more but you, And do you slache-his business for your own? I pray you go before, I'll follow you, Ah what ahell is fretful Jealousy? What pity moaning words? what deep fetched sighs? What grievous groans? and overlading woes, Accompanies this gentle gentleman. Now will he shake his care oppressed head, Then sir his sad eis on the sollen earth, Ashamed to gaze upon the open world. Now will he cast his eyes up towards the heavens, Looking that ways for redress of wrong, Some times he seeketh to beguile his grief, And tells a story with his careful tongue. Then comes his wives dishonour in his thoughts, And in the middle cutteth of his tale. Dowring fresh sorrow on his weary limbs. So woe begone, so inly charged with woe, Was never any lived and bore it so. What dismal outcry calls me from my rest? This fantassie doth rise from Michaels fear, Who being awaked with the noise he made, His troubled senses, yet could take no rest. And this I warrant you procured your dream. To such as note their nightly fantasies, Some one in twenty may incur belief, But use it not, 'tis but a mockery, I assure you sir, you task me much, A heavy blood is gathered at my heart, And on the sudden is my wind so short: As hindereth the passage of my speech. So ferse a qualm yet near assailed me: She being reprehended for the fact. Witness produced that took her with the deed, Her glove brought in, which there she left behind, And many other assured Arguments: He husband asked her whither it were not so. I my good Lord, and highly bound to you, Why I pray you sir, let her go along with us, I am sure his honour will welcome her, And us the more, for bringing her along. Friend whats thy opinion of this missed. By the Moon, how I pray Thee? Another Moon. And sirrah as we go, lets us have some more of your bold yeomanry. Why the no better creatures in the world Then women are, when they are in good humours. Oh monstrous, Nay then 'tis time to draw. Marry God defend me from such a Jest. Why M. Arden, know you what you do, Will you follow him that hath dishonourd you, Why Mosbie trant you husband with the horn, Suppose 'tis true, yet is it dangerous. To follow him whom he hath lately hurt, He whom the devil drives must go perforce, Poor gentleman how soon he is bewitched, And yet because his wife is the instrument, His friends must not be laush in their speech, Exit Fran. I so they shall, come you along with us. know you this handtowel and this knife? It is his blood, which strumpet thou hast shed, But if I live thou and thy accomplices, Which have conspired and wrought his death, Shall rue it. Those Ruffians shall not escape, I will up to London, and get the counsels warrant to apprehend them. Exeunt. Thus have you seen the truth of Ardens death As for the Ruffians, Shakbag and black Will, The one took Sanctuary, and being sent for out. Was murdered in Southwark, as he passed To Greenewitch, where the Lord Protector lay. Black Will was burned in flushing on a stage. Grèene was hanged at Osbridge in Rend. The Painter fled, & how he died we know not. But this above the rest is to be noted, Arden lay murdered in that plot of ground, Which he by force and violence held from Rede. And in the grass his bodies print was seen, Two years and more after the deed was done Gentlemen we hope yowl pardon this naked Tragedy, Wherein no filed points are foilted in, To make it gracious to the ear or eye. For simple trusth is gracious enough: And needs no other points of glossing stuff. Why, what is he? What will you do sir? At your good pleasure sir, I'll bear you company. Exeunt. Mistress Ales I hard you name him once or twice, Then Mosbie, to eschew the speech of men, Upon whose general bruit all honour hangs, Forbear his house. Then stay with me in London, go not home. Forget your griefs a while, here coms your man, Is he himself already in his bed? Do you remember where my tale did leave? First did she cast her eyes down to the earth, Watching the drops that fell amain from thence, Then softly draws she forth her hand kercher, And modestly she wipes her tear stained face: Then hemmed she out to clear her voice should seem, And with a majesty addressed her self, To encounter all their accusations. Pardon me M. Arden I can no more: This fighting at my heart, makes short my wind. Come Michael are our horses ready? Why I pray you let us go before, Whilst he stays behind to seek his purse. Fie bitter knave bridle thine envious tongue, For curses are Like arrows shot upright, Which falling down light on the suitors head. I think so M. Arden. Happy the change, that alters for the best, But see in any case you make no speech, Of the cheer we had at my Lord Cheineis, Although most bounteous and liberal, For that will make her think her self more wronged, In that we did carry her a long, For sure she grieved that she was left behind, Believe me I saw him not since Morning, Fear you not he'll come anon, mean time You may do well to bid his guests fit down. What ails you woman, to cry so suddenly. Ilyke not this, I pray God all be well Exeunt From. Mos. & Gre. I'll seek him out, and find him if I can. Arden thy husband, and my Friend, is slain, I know not, but behind the abbey, There helyes murdered in most piteous case, I am too sure, would God I were deceived. I fear me he was murdered in this house. And carried to the fields, for from that place, Backwards and forward may you see, The print of many feet within the snow, And look about this chamber where we are, And you shall find partly of his guiltless blood, For in his slipshoe did I find some rushes. Which argue he was murdered in this room. Bring that villain and mosbies sister too, And one of you go to the flower deluce. And seek for mosbie, and apprehend him to. Exeunt Study not for and asnwer, look not down His purse and girdle found at thy beds head, Witness sufficiently thou didst the deed. It bootless is to swear thou didst it not, 'Tis nothing but some brabbling paltry fray. Devised to pick men's pockets in the throng. Gentle Arden leave this sad lament, She will amend, and so your griefs will cease Or else she'll die, and so your sorrows end. If neither of these two do happily fallen, Yet let your comfort be, that others bear Your woes twice doubled all with patience. I be my Faith, the air is very cold, Exeunt Michael farewell, I pray thee dream no more.