The Complete Apocryphal Plays of William Shakespeare (eBook)

• how now, Alice? What, sad and passionate?

Make me partaker of thy pensiveness:

Fire divided burns with lesser force.

ALICE

But I will dam that fire in my breast

Till by the force thereof my part consume, ah, Mosbie!

MOSBIE

Such deep pathaires, like to a cannon’s burst

Discharged against a ruinated wall,

Breaks my relenting heart in thousand pieces.

Ungentle Alice, thy sorrow is my sore;

Thou know’st it well, and ‘tis thy policy

To forge distressful looks to wound a breast

Where lies a heart that dies when thou art sad.

It is not love that loves to anger love.

ALICE

It is not love that loves to murder love.

MOSBIE

How mean you that?

ALICE

Thou knowest how dearly Arden loved me.

MOSBIE

And then?

ALICE

And then - conceal the rest, for ‘tis too bad,

Lest that my words be carried with the wind,

And published in the world to both our shames.

I pray thee, Mosbie, let our springtime wither;

Our harvest else will yield but loathsome weeds.

Forget, I pray thee, what hath passes betwixt us,

For now I blush and tremble at the thoughts!

MOSBIE

What? Are you changed?

ALICE

Ay, to my former happy life again,

From title of an odious strumpet’s name

To honest Arden’s wife, not Arden’s honest wife.

And made me slanderous to all my kin;

Even in my forehead is thy name ingraven,

A mean artificer, that low born name.

I was bewitched: woe worth the hapless hour

And all the causes that enchanted me!

MOSBIE

Nay, if thou ban, let me breathe curses forth,

And if you stand so nicely at your fame,

Let me repent the credit I have lost.

And thou unhallowed hast enchanted me.

But I will break thy spells and exorcisms,

And put another sight upon these eyes

That showed my heart a raven for a dove.

Thou art not fair, I viewed thee not till now;

Thou art not kind, till now I knew thee not;

And now the rain hath beaten off thy gilt,

Thy worthless copper shows thee counterfeit.

It grieves me not to see how foul thou art,

But mads me that ever I thought thee fair.

Go, get thee gone, a copesmate for thy hinds;

I am too good to be thy favorite.

ALICE

Ay, now I see, and too soon find it true,

Which often hath been told me by my friends,

That Mosbie loves me not but for my wealth,

Which, too incredulous, I ne’er believed.

Nay, hear me speak, Mosbie, a word or two;

I’ll bite my tongue if it speak bitterly.

Look on me, Mosbie, or I’ll kill myself:

Nothing shall hide me from thy stormy look,

If thou cry war, there is no peace for me;

I will do penance for offending thee,

And burn this prayer book, where I here use

The holy word that had converted me.

See, Mosbie, I will tear away the leaves,

And all the leaves, and in this golden cover

Shall thy sweet phrases and thy letters dwell;

And thereon will I chiefly meditate,

And hold no other sect but such devotion.

Wilt thou not look? Is all thy love o’erwhelmed?

Wilt thou not hear? What malice stops thine ears?

Why speaks thou not? What silence ties thy tongue?

Thou hast been sighted as the eagle is,

And heard as quickly as the fearful hare,

When I have bid thee hear or see or speak,

And art thou sensible in none of these?

Weigh all thy good turns with this little fault,

And I deserve not Mosbie’s muddy looks.

A font once troubled is not thickened still:

Be clear again, I’ll ne’er more trouble thee.

MOSBIE

O no, I am a base artificer:

My wings are feathered for a lowly flight.

Mosbie? Fie! No, not for a thousand pound.

Make love to you? Why, ‘tis unpardonable;

We beggars must not breathe where gentles are.

ALICE

Sweet Mosbie is as gentle as a king,

And I too blind to judge him otherwise.

Flowers do sometimes spring in fallow lands,

Weeds in gArdens, roses grow on thorns;

So, whatsoe’er my Mosbie’s father was,

Himself is valued gentle by his worth.

MOSBIE

Ah, how you women can insinuate,

And clear a trespass with your sweet set tongue!

I will forget this quarrel, gentle Alice,

Provided I’ll be tempted so no more.

(here enters BRADSHAW

ALICE

Then with thy lips seal up this new made match.

MOSBIE

Soft, Alice, here comes some body.

ALICE

How now, Bradshaw, what’s the news with you?

BRADSHAW

I have little news, but here’s a letter

That master Greene importuned me to give you.

ALICE

Go in, Bradshaw; call for a cup of beer; (Exit.

‘tis almost supper time, thou shalt stay with us.

(then she reads the letter.

“We have missed of our purpose at London but shall perform

It by the way. We thank our neighbor BRADSHAW

Yours, Richard GREENE

How likes my love the tenor of this letter?

MOSBIE

Well, were his date completed and expired.

ALICE

Ah, would it were!

Then comes my happy hour:

Till then my bliss is mixed with bitter gall.

Come, let us in to shun suspicion.

(here Enter Greene, Will, and SHAKEBAG

SHAKEBAG

Come, Will, see thy tools be in a readiness!

Is not thy powder dank,

Or will thy flint strike fire?

WILL

Then ask me if my nose be on my face,

Than e’er thou handledst pistols in thy life.

SHAKEBAG

Ay, haply thou has picked more in a throng:

But should I brag what booties I have took,

I think the overplus that’s more than thine

Would mount to a greater sum of money

Than either thou or all thy kin are worth.

Zounds, I hate them as I hate a toad

That carry a muscado in their tongue,

And scarce a hurting weapon in their hand.

WILL

O Greene intolerable!

It is not for mine honor to bear this.

Why, Shakebag, I did serve the king at boulogne

And thou canst brag of nothing that thou hast done.

SHAKEBAG

Why, so can jack of feversham,

That sounded for a fillip on the nose,

When he that gave it him hollowed in his ear,

And he supposed a cannon bullet hit him.

(then they fight.

GREENE

I pray you, sirs, list to aesop’s talk:

Whilst two stout dogs were striving for a bone,

There comes a cur and stole it from them both;

So, while you stand striving on these terms of manhood,

Arden escapes us, and deceives us all.

SHAKEBAG

Why, he begun.

WILL

And thou shalt find I’ll end.

I do but slip it until better time.

GREENE

Well, take your fittest standings, and once more

Lime well your twigs to catch this wary bird.

I’ll leave you, and at your dag’s discharge

Make towards like the longing water dog,

That coucheth till the fowling piece be off,

Then seizeth on the prey with eager mood.

Ah, might I see him stretching forth his limbs,

As I have seen them beat their wings ere now!

SHAKEBAG

Why that thou shalt see if he come this way.

GREENE

Yes, that he doth, Shakebag, I warrant thee:

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

And in that hope I’ll leave you for an hour. (Exit GREENE

(here Enter Arden, Franklin, and MICHAEL

MICHAEL

‘twere best that I went back to rochester:

The horse halts down right; it were not good

He travelled in such pain to feversham;

Removing of a shoe may haply help it.

ARDEN

Well, get you back to rochester; but sirrah see ye

O’ertake us ere we come to rainham down,

For it will be very late ere we get...