of Feuershame.
Clarke.
I know your minde, and here I haue it for you,
Put but a dram of this into his drinke,
Or any kinde of broth that he shall eat:
And he shall die within an houre after.
Ales.
As I am a gentle woman Clarke, next day
Thou and Susan shall be maried.
Mos.
And ile mak her dowry more the ile talk of Clark,
Clarke.
Yonder's your husband, Mosbie ile be gone.
Here enters Arden and Francklin.
Ales.
In good time, see where my husband comes,
Maister Mosbie aske him the question your selfe.
Exit Clarke.
Mos.
Maister Arden, being at London yester night,
The Abby lands whereof you are now possest,
Were offred me on some occasion,
By Greene one of sir Antony Agers men:
I pray you sir tell me, are not the lands yours?
Hath any other interest herein?
Arden.
Mosby that question wele decyde anon,
Ales make ready my brekfast, I must hence.
Exit Ales.
By letters patents from his Maiesty:
But I must haue a Mandat for my wyfe,
They say you seeke to robbe me of her loue,
Uillaine what makes thou in her company,
Shees no companion for so base a groome.
Mosbie
Arden I thought not on her, I came to thee,
But rather then I pocket vp this wrong.
Francklin.
What will you doo sir?
Mos.
Reuenge it on the proudest of you both:
Then Arden drawes forth Mosbies sword.
Arden.
So sirha, you may not weare a sword,
The statute makes against artificers,
I warrand that I doo, now vse your bodkin,
Your spanish needle, and your pressing Iron.
