Page:The Lamentable and True Tragedie of M. Arden of Feversham in Kent (1592).pdf/70

 Sha. In South warke dwels a bonnie northerne lasse, The widow Chambley, ile to her house now, Ind if she will not giue me harborough, Ile make bootie of the queane euen to her smocke.

Will. Shift for your selues we two will leaue you now

Ales. First lay the bodie in the countinghouse. Then they lay the body in the Countinghouse.

Will. We haue our gould mistris Ales, adew, Mosbie farewell, and Michaell farewell too.

Susan. Mistres, the guests are at the doores. Hearken they knocke, what shall I let them in?

Ales. Mosbie go thou & beare them companie. And susan fetch water and wash away this bloode,

Susan. The bloode cleaueth to the ground & will not out

Ales. But with my nailes ile scrape away the blood, The more I striue the more the blood appeares:

Susan. Whats the reason M. can you tell?

Ales. Because I blush not at my husbands death.

Mos. Now now, whats the matter? is all well?

Ale. I wel, if Arden were aliue againe. In vaine we striue, for here his blood remains,

Mos. Why strew rushes on it, can you not, This wench doth nothing fall vnto the worke.

Ales. Twas thou that made me murther him,

Mos. What of that?

Ales. Nay nothing Mosbie so it be not known.

Mos. Keepe thou it close, and tis vnpossible,

Ales. Ah but I can not, was he not staine by me, My husbands death torments me at the hart.

Mos. It shall not long torment thee gentle Ales, I am thy husband, thinke no more of him.

Brad. Now now M. Arden? what ayle you wéepe? Mos.