_Alice._ Ere noon he means to take horse and away! Sweet news is this. O that some airy spirit Would in the shape and likeness of a horse Gallop with Arden ’cross the Ocean, And throw him from his back into the waves! Sweet Mosbie is the man that hath my heart: And he usurps it, having nought but this, That I am tied to him by marriage. 100 Love is a God, and marriage is but words; And therefore Mosbie’s title is the best. Tush! whether it be or no, he shall be mine, In spite of him, of Hymen, and of rites. _Here enters Adam of the Flower-de-luce._ And here comes Adam of the Flower-de-luce; I hope he brings me tidings of my love. --How now, Adam, what is the news with you? Be not afraid; my husband is now from home. _Adam._ He whom you wot of, Mosbie, Mistress Alice, Is come to town, and sends you word by me 110 In any case you may not visit him. _Alice._ Not visit him? _Adam._ No, nor take no knowledge of his being here. _Alice._ But tell me, is he angry or displeased? _Adam._ It should seem so, for he is wondrous sad. _Alice._ Were he as mad as raving Hercules, I’ll see him, I; and were thy house of force, These hands of mine should race it to the ground, Unless that thou wouldst bring me to my love. _Adam._ Nay, and you be so impatient, I’ll be gone. 120 _Alice._ Stay, Adam, stay; thou wert wont to be my friend. Ask Mosbie how I have incurred his wrath; Bear him from me these pair of silver dice, With which we played for kisses many a time, And when I lost, I won, and so did he;-- Such winning and such losing Jove send me! And bid him, if his love do not decline, To come this morning but along my door, And as a stranger but salute me there: This may he do without suspect or fear. 130 _Adam._ I’ll tell him what you say, and so farewell. [_Exit Adam._ _Alice._ Do, and one day I’ll make amends for all.-- I know he loves me well, but dares not come, Because my husband is so jealous, And these my narrow-prying neighbours blab, Hinder our meetings when we would confer. But, if I live, that block shall be removed, And, Mosbie, thou that comes to me by stealth, Shalt neither fear the biting speech of men, Nor Arden’s looks; as surely shall he die 140 As I abhor him and love only thee. _Here enters Michael._ How now, Michael, whither are you going? _Michael._ To fetch my master’s nag. I hope you’ll think on me. _Alice._ Ay; but, Michael, see you keep your oath, And be as secret as you are resolute. _Michael._ I’ll see he shall not live above a week. _Alice._ On that condition, Michael, here’s my hand: None shall have Mosbie’s sister but thyself. _Michael._ I understand the painter here hard by 150 Hath made report that he and Sue is sure. _Alice._ There’s no such matter, Michael; believe it not.