Sealed and subscribed with his name and the king’s:

Read them, and leave this melancholy mood.

Arden. Franklin, thy love prolongs my weary life;

And but for thee how odious were this life, 10

10

That shows me nothing but torments my soul,

And those foul objects that offend mine eyes!

Which makes me wish that for this veil of heaven

The earth hung over my head and covered me.

[2]

Love-letters pass ’twixt Mosbie and my wife,

And they have privy meetings in the town:

Nay, on his finger did I spy the ring

Which at our marriage-day the priest put on.

Can any grief be half so great as this?

Franklin. Comfort thyself, sweet friend; it is not strange 20

20

That women will be false and wavering.

Arden. Ay, but to dote on such a one as he

Is monstrous, Franklin, and intolerable.

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