Page:The Lamentable and True Tragedie of M. Arden of Feversham in Kent (1592).pdf/54

 Why should he thrust his sickle in our corne, Or what hath he to do with thee my loue? Or gouerne me that am to rule my selfe, Forsooth for credit sake I must leaue thee. Nay he must leaue to liue, that we may loue, May liue, may loue, for what is lyfe but loue? And loue shall last as long as lyfe remaines, And lyfe shall end, before my loue depart.

Mos. Why whats loue, without true constancy? Lyke to a piller built of many stones. Yet neither with good morter, well compact, Nor semell, to fasten it in the ioynts. But that it shakes with euery blast of winde, And being toucht, straight falles vnto the earth, And buries all his haughty pride in dust. No let our loue be rockes of Addamant, Which time nor place, nor tempest can a sunder.

Gre. Mosbie leaue protestations now, And let vs bethinke vs what we haue to doo: Black Will and shakebag I haue placed, In the broome close watching Ardens comming, Lets to them, and see what they haue done.

Ard. Oh ferry man, where art thou? Here enters the Ferriman.

Fer. Here here, goe before to the boat. And I will follow you.

Ard. We haue great haste, I pray thee come away.

Fer. Fy what a mist is here.

Ard. This mist my frend, is misticall, Lyke to a good companions smoaky braine, That was halfe dround with new ale ouer night.

Fer. Twere pitty but his scull were opened, To make more Chimny roome.

Fran. Freend whats thy opinion of this mist.

Fer. I think tis lyke to a curst wife in a lytle house, That