Sweet news is this. O that some airy spirit

Would in the shape and likeness of a horse

Gallop with Arden ’cross the Ocean,

And throw him from his back into the waves!

Sweet Mosbie is the man that hath my heart:

And he usurps it, having nought but this,

That I am tied to him by marriage. 100

100

Love is a God, and marriage is but words;

And therefore Mosbie’s title is the best.

Tush! whether it be or no, he shall be mine,

In spite of him, of Hymen, and of rites.

And here comes Adam of the Flower-de-luce;

I hope he brings me tidings of my love.

—How now, Adam, what is the news with you?

Be not afraid; my husband is now from home.

Adam. He whom you wot of, Mosbie, Mistress Alice,

Is come to town, and sends you word by me 110

110

In any case you may not visit him.

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