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Alice. Then, Master Greene, be counselled by me :

Indanger not yourself for such a churl,

But hire some cutter for to cut him short,

And here 's ten pound to wager them withal ;

When he is dead, you shall have twenty more.

And the lands whereof my husband is possess'd

Shall be intitled as they were before.

Greene. Will you keep promise with me ?

Alice. Or count me false and perjured whilst I live.

Greene. Then here 's my hand, I'll have him so dispatched.

I'll up to London straight, I'll thither post,

And never rest till I have compassed it.

Till then farewell.

Alice. Good fortune follow all your forward thoughts.

Exit Greene.

And whosoever doth attempt the deed,

A happy hand I wish, and so farewell. —

All this goes well : Mosbie, I long for thee

To let thee know all that I have contrived.

Here enters Mosbie and Clarke,

Mosbie. How, now, Alice, what's the news?

Alice. Such as will content thee well, sweetheart.

Mosbie. Well, let them pass a while, and tell me, Alice,

How have you dealt and tempered with my sister ?

What, will she have my neighhour Clarke, or no ?

Alice. What, Master Mosbie ! let him woo himself !

Think you that maids look not for fair words ?

Go to her, Clarke ; she 's all alone within ;

Michael my man is clean out of her books.

Clarke. I thank you, Mistress Arden, I will in ;

And if fair Susan and I can make a gree,

You shall command me to the uttermost,

As far as either goods or life may stretch.

Exit Clarke.

Mosbie. Now, Alice, let 's hear thy news.

Alice. They be so good that I must laugh for joy,

Before I can begin to tell my tale.

Mosbie. Let 's hear them, that I may laugh for company.

Alice. This morning, Master Greene, Dick Greene I mean,

From whom my husband had the Abbey land,

Came hither, railing, for to know the truth

Whether my husband had the lands by grant.

I told him all, whereat he stormed amain

And swore he would cry quittance with the churl,

And, if he did deny his interest,

Stab him, whatsoever did befall himself.

Whenas I saw his choler thus to rise,

I whetted on the gentleman with words ;

And, to conclude, Mosbie, at last we grew

To composition for my husband's death.

I gave him ten pound for to hire knaves,

By some device to make away the churl ;

When he is dead, he should have twenty more

And repossess his former lands again.

On this we 'greed, and he is ridden straight

To London, for to bring his death about.

Mosbie. But call you this good news ?

Alice. Ay, sweetheart, be they not .'

Mosbie. 'Twere cheerful news to hear the churl were dead ;

But trust me, Alice, I take it passing ill

You would be so forgetful of our state

To make recount of it to every groom.

What ! to acquaint each stranger with our drifts,

Chiefly in case of murder, why, 'tis the way

To make it open unto Arden's self

And bring thyself and me to ruin both.

Forewarned, forearmed ; who threats his enemy.

Lends him a sword to guard himself withal.

Alice. I did it for the best.

Mosbie. Well, seeing 'tis done, cheerly let it pais.

You know this Greene ; is he not religious ?

A man, I guess, of great devotion ?

Alice. He is.

Mosbie. Then, sweet Alice, let it pass : I have a drift

Will quiet all, whatever is amiss.

Here eiiters Clarke and Susan.

Alice. How now, Clarke ? have you found me false?

Did I not plead the matter hard for you ?

Clarke. You did.

Mosbie. And what ? wilt be a match ?

Clarke. A match, I' faith, sir : ay, the day is mine.

The painter lays his colours to the life,

His pencil draws no shadows in his love.

Susan is mine.

Alice. You make her blush.

Mosbie. What, sister, is it Clarke must be the man ?

Susan. It resteth in your grant ; some words are past,

And haply we be grown unto a match,

If you be willing that it shall be so.

Mosbie. Ah, Master Clarke, it resteth at my grant :

You see my sister 's yet at my dispose,

But, so you'll grant me one thing I shall ask,

I am content my sister shall be yours.

Clarke. What is it,