_Alice._ So lists the sailor to the mermaid’s song, So looks the traveller to the basilisk: I am content for to be reconciled, And that, I know, will be mine overthrow. _Mosbie._ Thine overthrow? first let the world dissolve. _Alice._ Nay, Mosbie, let me still enjoy thy love, And happen what will, I am resolute. 220 My saving husband hoards up bags of gold To make our children rich, and now is he Gone to unload the goods that shall be thine, And he and Franklin will to London straight. _Mosbie._ To London, Alice? if thou’lt be ruled by me, We’ll make him sure enough for coming there. _Alice._ Ah, would we could! _Mosbie._ I happened on a painter yesternight, The only cunning man of Christendom; For he can temper poison with his oil, 230 That whoso looks upon the work he draws Shall, with the beams that issue from his sight, Suck venom to his breast and slay himself. Sweet Alice, he shall draw thy counterfeit, That Arden may, by gazing on it, perish. _Alice._ Ay, but Mosbie, that is dangerous, For thou, or I, or any other else, Coming into the chamber where it hangs, may die. _Mosbie._ Ay, but we’ll have it covered with a cloth And hung up in the study for himself. 240 _Alice._ It may not be, for when the picture’s drawn, Arden, I know, will come and show it me. _Mosbie._ Fear not; we’ll have that shall serve the turn. This is the painter’s house; I’ll call him forth. _Alice._ But Mosbie, I’ll have no such picture, I. _Mosbie._ I pray thee leave it to my discretion. How! Clarke! _Here enters Clarke._ Oh, you are an honest man of your word! you served me well. _Clarke._ Why, sir, I’ll do it for you at any time, Provided, as you have given your word, 250 I may have Susan Mosbie to my wife. For, as sharp-witted poets, whose sweet verse Make heavenly gods break off their nectar draughts And lay their ears down to the lowly earth, Use humble promise to their sacred Muse, So we that are the poets’ favourites Must have a love: ay, Love is the painter’s muse, That makes him frame a speaking countenance, A weeping eye that witnesses heart’s grief. Then tell me, Master Mosbie, shall I have her? 260 _Alice._ ’Tis pity but he should; he’ll use her well. _Mosbie._ Clarke, here’s my hand: my sister shall be thine. _Clarke._ Then, brother, to requite this courtesy, You shall command my life, my skill, and all. _Alice._ Ah, that thou couldst be secret. _Mosbie._ Fear him not; leave; I have talked sufficient _Clarke._ You know not me that ask such questions. Let it suffice I know you love him well, And fain would have your husband made away: Wherein, trust me, you show a noble mind, 270 That rather than you’ll live with him you hate, You’ll venture life, and die with him you love. The like will I do for my Susan’s sake. _Alice._ Yet nothing could inforce me to the deed But Mosbie’s love. Might I without control Enjoy thee still, then Arden should not die: But seeing I cannot, therefore let him die.