The Complete Apocryphal Works of William Shakespeare - All 17 Rare Plays in One Edition. William ShakespeareЧитать онлайн книгу.
Was never fostered in the coast of kent:
How comes it then that such a knave as you
Dare swear a matter of such consequence?
GREENE
Ah, WILL
WILL
Tush, give me leave, there’s no more but this:
Sith thou hast sworn, we dare discover all.
And hadst thou or should’st thou utter it,
We have devised a complat under hand,
What ever shall betide to any of us,
To send thee roundly to the devil of hell.
And therefore thus: I am the very man,
Marked in my birth hour by the destinies,
To give an end to Arden’s life on earth;
Thou but a member but to whet the knife
Whose edge must search the closet of his breast.
Thy office is but to appoint the place,
And train thy master to his tragedy;
Mine to perform it when occasion serves.
How and what way we may conclude his death.
SHAKEBAG
So shalt thou purchase Mosbie for thy friend,
And by his friendship gain his sister’s love.
GREENE
So shall thy mistress be thy favorer,
And thou disburdened of the oath thou made.
MICHAEL
Well, gentlemen, I cannot but confess,
Sith you have urged me so apparently,
That I have vowed my master Arden’s death,
And he whose kindly love and liberal hand
Doth challenge nought but food deserts of me,
I will deliver over to your hands.
This night come to his house at aldersgate:
The doors I’ll leave unlock’d against you come.
No sooner shall ye Enter through the latch,
Over the threshold to the inner court,
But on your left hand shall you see the stairs
That leads directly to my master’s chamber.
There take him and dispose him as ye please.
Now it were good we parted company;
That thus thy gentle life is levelled at?
The many good turns that thou hast done to me.
Now must I quittance with betraying thee.
I that should take the weapon in my hand
And buckler thee from ill intending foes,
Do lead thee with a wicked fraudful smile,
As unsuspected, to the slaughterhouse.
So have I sworn to Mosbie and my mistress,
So have I promised to the slaughtermen;
And should I not deal currently with them,
Their lawless rage would take revenge on me.
Tush, I will spurn at mercy for this once.
Let pity lodge where feeble women lie,
I am resolved, and Arden needs must die. (Exit MICHAEL
(here enters Arden and FRANKLIN
ARDEN
No, Franklin, no: if fear or stormy threats,
If love of me or care of womanhood,
If fear of god or common speech of men,
Who mangle credit with their wounding words,
And couch dishonor as dishonor buds,
Might join repentance in her wanton thoughts,
No question then but she would turn the leaf,
But she is rooted in her wickedness,
Perverse and stubborn, not to be reclaimed;
Good counsel is to her as rain to weeds,
And reprehension makes her vice to grow
As hydra’s head that plenish’d by decay.
Her faults, methink, are painted in my face,
For every searching eye to overread;
And Mosbie’s name, a scandal unto mine,
Is deeply trenched in my blushing brow.
Ah, Franklin, Franklin, when I think on this,
My heart’s grief rends my other powers
Worse than the conflict at the hour of death.
FRANKLIN
Gentle Arden, leave this sad lament:
She will amend, and so your griefs will cease;
Or else she’ll die, and so your sorrows end.
If neither of these two do happily fall,
Yet let your comgort be, that others bear
Your woes, twice doubled all, with patience.
ARDEN
My house is irksome; there I cannot rest.
FRANKLIN
Then stay with me in London; go not home.
ARDEN
Then that base Mosbie doth usurp my room,
And makes his triumph of my being thence.
At home or not at home, where’er I be.
Here, here it lies, ah Franklin, here it lies
That will not out till wretched Arden dies.
(here enters MICHAEL
FRANKLIN
Forget your griefs a while; here comes your man.
ARDEN
What o’clock is’t, sirrah?
MICHAEL
Almost ten.
ARDEN
See, see, how runs away the weary time!
Come, master Franklin, shall we go to bed?
(Exeunt Arden and MICHAEL
Manet FRANKLIN
FRANKLIN
I pray you, go before: I’ll follow you.
-ah, what a hell is fretful jealousy!
What pity-moving words, what deep fetch’d sighs!
What grievous groans and overlading woes
Accompanies this gentle gentleman!
Now will he shake his care oppressed head
Then fix his sad eyes on the sullen earth,
Ashamed to gaze upon the open world;
Now will he cast his eyes up towards the heavens,
Sometimes he seeketh to beguile his grief
And tells a story with his careful tongue;
Then comes his wife’s dishonor