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; 630

630

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.

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