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Mosbie. I do remember once in secret talk

You told me how you could compound by art

A crucifix impoisoned,

That whoso look upon it should wax blind

And with the scent be stifled, that ere long

He should die poisoned that did view it well.

I would have you make me such a crucifix.

And then I'll grant my sister shall be yours.

Clarke. Though I am loth, because it toucheth life,

Yet, rather or I'll leave sweet Susan's love,

I'll do it, and with all the haste I may.

But for whom is it ?

Alice. Leave that to us. Why, Clarke, is it possible

That you should paint and draw it out yourself,

The colours being baleful and impoisoned,

And no ways prejudice yourself withal ?

Mosbie. Well questioned, Alice ; Clarke, how answer you that?

Clarke. Very easily : I'll tell you straight

How I do work of these impoisoned drugs.

I fasten on my spectacles so close

As nothing can any way offend my sight ;

Then, as I put a leaf within my nose,

So put I rhubarb to avoid the smell.

And softly as another work I paint.

Mosbie. 'Tis very well ; but against when shall I have it?

Clarke. Within this ten days.

Mosbie. 'Twill serve the turn.

Now, Alice, let's in and see what cheer you keep.

I hope, now Master Arden is from home.

You'll give me leave to play your husband's part.

Alice. Mosbie, you know, who 's master of my heart.

He well may be the master of the house.

Exeunt.

ACT II

SCENE I

Country between Feversham and London.

Enter Greene and Bradshaw.

Bradshaw. See you them that comes yonder, Master Greene ?

Greene. Ay, very well : do you know them ?

Here enters Black Will and Shakebag.

Bradshaw. The one I know not, but he seems a knave

Chiefly for bearing the other company ;

For such a slave, so vile a rogue as he.

Lives not again upon the earth.

Black Will is his name. I tell you. Master Greene,

At Boulogne he and I were fellow-soldiers,

Where he played such pranks

As all the camp feared him for his villainy lo

I warrant you he bears so bad a mind

That for a crown he'll murder any man.

Greene. The fitter is he for my purpose, marry !

Will. How now, fellow Bradshaw? Whither away so early ?

Bradshaw. O Will, times are changed : no fellows now,

Though we were once together in the field ;

Yet thy friend to do thee any good I can.

Will. Why, Bradshaw, was not thou and I fellow-

soldiers at Boulogne, where I was a corporal, and

thou but a base mercenary groom? No fellows

now ! because you are a goldsmith and have a little

plate in your shop ! You were glad to call me

'fellow Will,' and with a curtsey to the earth, * One

snatch, good corporal,' when I stole the half ox

from John the victualer, and domineer'd with it

amongst good fellows in one night.

Bradshaw. Ay, Will, those days are past with me.

Will. Ay, but they be not past with me, for I keep that

same honourable mind still. Good neighbour Brad-

shaw, you are too proud to be my fellow ; but were

it not that I see more company coming down the

hill, I would be fellows with you once more, and

share crowns with you too. But let that pass, and

tell me whither you go.

Bradshaw. To London, Will, about a piece of service,

Wherein haply thou mayest pleasure me.

Will. What is it?

Bradshaw. Of late Lord Cheiny lost some plate.

Which one did bring and sold it at my shop,

Saying he served Sir Antony Cooke.

A search was made, the plate was found with me,

And I am bound to answer at the 'size.

Now, Lord Cheiny solemnly vows, if law

Will serve him, he'll hang me for his plate.

Now I am going to London upon hope

To find the fellow. Now, Will, I know

Thou art acquainted with such companions.

Will. What manner of man was he ?

Bradshaw. A lean-faced writhen knave,

Hawk-nosed and very hollow-eyed,

With mighty furrows in his stormy brows ;

Long hair down his shoulders curled ;

His chin was bare, but on his upper lip

A mutchado, which he wound about his ear.

Will. What apparel had he ?

Bradshaw. A watchet satin doublet all-to torn,

The inner side did bear