The Complete Apocryphal Works of William Shakespeare - All 17 Rare Plays in One Edition. William ShakespeareЧитать онлайн книгу.
SAILOR
Faith, Dick Reede, it is to little end.
His conscience is too liberal, and he too niggardly
To part from any thing may do thee good.
REEDE
He is coming from shorlow as I understand;
Here I’ll intercept him, for at his house
He never will vouchsafe to speak with me.
If prayers and fair entreaties will not serve,
Or make no battery in his flinty breast.
(here enters Franklin, Arden, and MICHAEL
I’ll curse the carle, and see what that will do.
See where he comes to further my intent! -
Master Arden, I am now bound to the sea;
My coming to you was about the plat of ground,
Which wrongfully you detain from me.
Although the rent of it be very small,
Yet it will help my wife and children,
Which here I leave in feversham, god knows,
Needy and bare: for Christ’s sake, let them have it!
ARDEN
Franklin, hearest thou this fellow speak?
Although the rent of it was ever mine.
Sirrah, you that ask these questions,
If with thy clamorous impeaching tongue
Thou rail on me, as I have heard thou dost,
I’ll lay thee up so close a twelve month’s day,
As thou shalt neither see the sun nor moon.
Look to it, for, as surely as I live,
I’ll banish pity if thou use me thus.
REEDE
What, wilt thou do me wrong and threat me too?
Nay, then, I’ll tempt thee, Arden, do thy worst.
God, I beseech thee, show some miracle
On thee or thine, in plaguing thee for this.
That plot of ground which thou detains from me.
I speak in an agony of spirit,
Be ruinous and fatal unto thee!
Either there be butchered by thy dearest friends,
Or else be brought for men to wonder at,
Or thou or thine miscarry in that place,
Or there run mad and end thy cursed days!
FRANKLIN
Fie, bitter knave, bridle thine envious tongue,
For curses are like arrows shot upright,
Which, falling down, light on the shooter’s head.
REEDE
Light where they will, were I upon the sea,
As oft I have in many a bitter storm,
And saw a dreadful southern flaw at hand,
The pilot quaking at the doubtful storm,
And all the sailors praying on their knees,
Even in that fearful time would I fall down,
And ask of god, whate’er betide of me,
Vengeance on Arden or some misevent
To show the world what wrong the carle hath done.
This charge I’ll leave with my distressful wife.
My children shall be taught such prayers as these;
And thus I go, but leave my curse with thee. (Exeunt Reede and sailor.
ARDEN
It is the railingest knave in Christendom,
And oftentimes the villain will be mad;
It greatly matters not what he says,
But I assure you I ne’er did him wrong.
FRANKLIN
I think so, master ARDEN
ARDEN
Now that our horses are gone home before,
My wife may haply meet me on the way.
And greatly changed from the old humor
Of her wonted forwardness,
And seeks by fair means to redeem old faults.
(here enters Alice and MOSBIE
FRANKLIN
Why, there’s no better creatures in the world
Than women are when they are in good humors.
ARDEN
Who is that? Mosbie? What, so familiar?
Injurious strumpet, and thou ribald knave,
Untwine those arms.
ALICE
Ay, with a sugared kiss let them untwine.
ARDEN
Ah, Mosbie! Perjured beast! Bear this and all.
MOSBIE
And yet no horned beast;
The horns are thine.
FRANKLIN
O monstrous! Nay, then ‘tis time to draw.
ALICE
Help, help! They murder my husband.
(here enters Will and SHAKEBAG
SHAKEBAG
Zounds, who injures master Mosbie?
Help, Will, I am hurt.
MOSBIE
I may thank you, mistress Arden, for this wound.
(Exeunt Mosbie, Will and SHAKEBAG
ALICE
Ah, Arden, what folly blinded thee?
Ah, jealous harebrain man, what hast thou done;
When we, to welcome thee intending sport,
Came lovingly to meet thee on thy way,
Thou drew’st thy sword, enraged with jealousy,
And hurt thy friend
Whose thoughts were free from harm:
All for a worthless kiss and joining arms,
Both done but merrily to try thy patience.
And me unhappy that devised the jest,
Which, though begun in sport, yet ends in blood!
FRANKLIN
Marry, god, defend me from such a jest.
ALICE
Could’st thou not see us friendly smile on thee
When we joined arms, and when I kissed his cheek?
Hast thou not lately found me overkind?
Did’st thou not hear me cry ‘they murder thee’?
Called I not help to set my husband free?
No, ears and all were witched; ah me accursed
To link in liking with a frantic man!
Hence