_Will._ Ay, and that bravely, too. Mark my device: Place Mosbie, being a stranger, in a chair, And let your husband sit upon a stool, That I may come behind him cunningly, And with a towel pull him to the ground, Then stab him till his flesh be as a sieve; That done, bear him behind the Abbey, That those that find him murdered may suppose 130 Some slave or other killed him for his gold. _Alice._ A fine device! you shall have twenty pound, And, when he is dead, you shall have forty more, And, lest you might be suspected staying here, Michael shall saddle you two lusty geldings; Ride whither you will, to Scotland, or to Wales, I’ll see you shall not lack, where’er you be. _Will._ Such words would make one kill a thousand men! Give me the key: which is the counting-house? _Alice._ Here would I stay and still encourage you; 140 But that I know how resolute you are. _Shakebag._ Tush, you are too faint-hearted; we must do it. _Alice._ But Mosbie will be there, whose very looks Will add unwonted courage to my thought, And make me the first that shall adventure on him. _Will._ Tush, get you gone; ’tis we must do the deed. When this door opens next, look for his death. [_Exeunt Will and Shakebag._ _Alice._ Ah, would he now were here that it might open! I shall no more be closed in Arden’s arms, That like the snakes of black Tisiphone 150 Sting me with their embracings! Mosbie’s arms Shall compass me, and, were I made a star, I would have none other spheres but those. There is no nectar but in Mosbie’s lips! Had chaste Diana kissed him, she like me Would grow love-sick, and from her watery bower Fling down Endymion and snatch him up: Then blame not me that slay a silly man Not half so lovely as Endymion. _Here enters Michael._ _Michael._ Mistress, my master is coming hard by. 160 _Alice._ Who comes with him? _Michael._ Nobody but Mosbie. _Alice._ That’s well, Michael. Fetch in the tables, and when thou hast done, stand before the counting-house door. _Michael._ Why so? _Alice._ Black Will is locked within to do the deed. _Michael._ What? shall he die to-night? _Alice._ Ay, Michael. _Michael._ But shall not Susan know it? _Alice._ Yes, for she’ll be as secret as ourselves. 170 _Michael._ That’s brave. I’ll go fetch the tables. Alice. But, Michael, hark to me a word or two: When my husband is come in, lock the street-door; He shall be murdered, or the guests come in. [_Exit Michael._ _Here enters Arden and Mosbie._ Husband, what mean you to bring Mosbie home? Although I wished you to be reconciled, ’Twas more for fear of you than love of him. Black Will and Greene are his companions, And they are cutters, and may cut you short: Therefore I thought it good to make you friends. 180 But wherefore do you bring him hither now? You have given me my supper with his sight. _Mosbie._ Master Arden, methinks your wife would have me gone.