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And let us bethink us what we have to do.

Black Will and Shakebag I have placed i' the broom,

Close watching Arden's coming ; let's to them

And see what they have done.

Exeunt,

SCENE II

The Kentish Coast opposite the Isle of Sheppy.

Here enters Arden and Franklin.

Arden. Oh, ferryman, where art thou ?

Here enters the Ferryman.

Ferryman, Here, here, go before to the boat, and I will follow you.

Arden. We have great haste ; I pray thee, come away.

Ferryman. Fie, what a mist is here !

Arden. This mist, my friend, is mystical.

Like to a good companion's smoky brain,

That was half drowned with new ale overnight.

Ferryman. 'Twere pity but his skull were opened to

make more chimney room. lo

Franklin. Friend, what 's thy opinion of this mist?

Ferryman. I think 'tis like to a curst wife in a little

house, that never leaves her husband till she have

driven him out at doors with a wet pair of eyes ;

then looks he as if his house were a-fire, or some of

his friends dead.

Arden. Speaks thou this of thine own experience?

Ferryman. Perhaps, ay ; perhaps, no : For my wife is

as other women are, that is to say, governed by the moon.

Franklin. By the moon ? how, I pray thee ?

Ferryman. Nay, thereby lies a bargain, and you shall

not have it fresh and fasting.

Arden. Yes, I pray thee, good ferryman.

Ferryman. Then for this once ; let it be midsummer

moon, but yet my wife has another moon.

Franklin. Another moon .?

Ferryman. Ay, and it hath influences and eclipses.

Arden. Why, then, by this reckoning you sometimes

play the man in the moon ?

Ferryman. Ay, but you had not best to meddle with

that moon, lest I scratch you by the face with my bramble-bush.

Arden. I am almost stifled with this fog; come, let's away.

Franklin. And, sirrah, as we go, let us have some more

of your bold yeomanry.

Ferryman. Nay, by my troth, sir, but flat knavery.

Exeunt.

SCENE III

Another place on the coast.

Here enters Will at one door and Shakebag at another.

Shakebag. Oh, Will, where art thou ?

Will. Here, Shakebag, almost in hell's mouth, where I

cannot see my way for smoke.

Shakebag. I pray thee speak still that we may meet by

the sound, for I shall fall into some ditch or other,

unless my feet see better than my eyes.

Will. Didst thou ever see better weather to run away

with another man's wife, or play with a wench at pot-finger?

Shakebag. No ; this were a fine world for chandlers, if

this weather would last ; for then a man should

never dine nor sup without candle-light. But,

sirrah Will, what horses are those that passed ?

Will. Why, didst thou hear any ?

Shakebag. Ay, that I did.

Will. My life for thine, 'twas Arden, and his companion,

and then all our labour's lost.

Shakebag. Nay, say not so, for if it be they, they may

haply lose their way as we have done, and then we

may chance meet with them.

Will. Come, let us go on like a couple of blind pilgrims.

Then Shakebag falls into a ditch.

Shakebag. Help, Will, help, I am almost drowned.

Here enters the Ferryman.

Ferryman. Who 's that that calls for help ?

Will. 'Twas none here, 'twas thou thyself.

Ferryman. I came to help him that called for help.

Why, how now ? who is this that 's in the ditch ?

You are well enough served to go without a guide

such weather as this.

Will. Sirrah, what companies hath passed your ferry this morning ?

Ferryman. None but a couple of gentlemen, that went

to dine at my Lord Cheiny's.

Will. Shakebag, did not I tell thee as much .

Ferryman. Why, sir, will you have any letters carried to them ?

Will. No, sir ; get you gone.

Ferryman. Did you ever see such a mist as this ?

Will. No, nor such a fool as will rather be bought than get his way.

Ferryman. Why, sir, this is no Hough-Monday ; you

are deceived. — What 's his name, I pray you, sir ?

Shakebag. His name is Black Will.

Ferryman. I hope to see him one day hanged upon a hill.

Exit Ferryman.

Shakebag. See how the sun hath cleared the foggy mist,