Page:The Lamentable and True Tragedie of M. Arden of Feversham in Kent (1592).pdf/46

 Ales Swete Mosbie is as gentle as a King, And I too blinde, to iudge him otherwise, Flowres do some times spring in fallow lands, UUeedes in gardens, Roses grow on thornes. So what so ere my Mosbies father was, Himselfe valued gentle by his worth.

Mos. Ah how you women can insinuate, And cleare a trespasse with your sweete set tongue, I will forget this quarrel gentle Ales, Prouided Ile be tempted so no more:

Al. Then with thy lips seale vp this new made match

Mos. Soft Ales for here comes some body.

Ales. How now Bradshaw, whats the news with you

Brad. I haue little news but heres a letter. That M. Greene importuned me to giue you:

Ales Go in Bradshaw call for a cuppe of beare. Tis almost suppertime, thou shalt stay with vs.

Yours Richard Greene. How lykes my loue the tennor of this letter?

Mos. Well, were his date compleat and expired.

Ales. Ah would it were, Then comes my happy howre. Till then my blisse is mixt with bitter gall. Come let vs in to shun suspition.

Ales. I to the gates of death to follow thee.

Shak. Come Will, see thy tooles be in a redynes? Is not thy Powder dancke, Or will thy flint stryke fyre

Will. Then aske me if my nose be on my face. Or whether my toung be frosen in my mouth. Zounds