Arden. Where is the letter, sirrah? let me see it.

See, Master Franklin, here’s proper stuff:

Susan my maid, the painter, and my man,

A crew of harlots, all in love, forsooth;

Sirrah, let me hear no more of this,

Nor for thy life once write to her a word.

Wilt thou be married to so base a trull? 30

30

’Tis Mosbie’s sister: come I once at home,

I’ll rouse her from remaining in my house.

Now, Master Franklin, let us go walk in Paul’s;

Come but a turn or two, and then away.

Greene. The first is Arden, and that’s his man,

The other is Franklin, Arden’s dearest friend.

Will. Zounds, I’ll kill them all three.

Greene. Nay, sirs, touch not his man in any case;

But stand close, and take you fittest standing,

And at his coming forth speed him:                                  40

40

[34]

 Prev. P 58/173 next