Alice. Good fortune follow all your forward thoughts.

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.

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,

[23]

How have you dealt and tempered with my sister?

What, will she have my neighbour 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. 550

550

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