# The Lamentable and True Tragedie of M. Arden of Feversham in Kent/Act 2

Here enters Greene and Bradshaw,
Brad.
See you them that coms yonder M. Greene?
Gren.
I very well, doo you know them?
Here enters Blacke Will and Shakebagge.
Brad.
The one I knowe not, but he seemes a knaue, Cheefly for bearing the other company: For such a slaue, so vile a roge as he, Lyues not againe vppon the earth, Black-will is his name I tell you M. Greene, At Bulloine he and I were fellow souldiers, Where he plaid such prankes, As all the Campe feard him for his villany: I warrant you he beares so bad a minde, That for a croune heele murther any man.
Gre. The fitter is he for my purpose mary.
Will.
How now fellow Bradshaw, Whether away so earely?
Brad.
O Will times are changed, no fellows now, Though we were once together in the field, Yet thy freend to doo thee any good I can.
Will Why Bradshawe was not thou and I, Fellow souldiers at Bulloine: Wher I was a corporall, and thou but a base mercenarye groome?
No fellowes now, because you are a gouldsmith, And haue a lytle plate in your shoppe, You were gladde to call me fellow Will, And with a cursy to the earth, One snatch good corporall. When I stole the halfe Oxe from Iohn the vitler. And domineer'd with it, amongst good fellowes, In one night.
Brad.
I Will, those dayes are past with me.
Will.
I but they be not past with me. For I kepe that same honorable minde still, Good neighbour Bradshaw you are too proude to be my fellow, But were it not, that I see more company comming down The hill, I would be fellowes with you once more, And share Crownes with you to. But let that pas, and tell me whether you goe.
Brad.
To London Will, about a peece of seruice, Wherein happely thou maist pleasure me.
Will.
What is it?
Brad.
Of late Lord Cheiny lost some plate, Which one did bring, and soulde it at my shoppe, Saying he serued sir Antony Cooke, A search was made, the plate was found with me, And I am bound to answer at the syse, Now Lord Cheiny solemnly vowes, If law will serue him, hele hang me for his plate, Now I am going to London vpon hope, To finde the fellow, now Will I know Thou art acpuainted with such companions.
Will. What manner of man was he?
Brad.
A leane faced writhen knaue, Hauke nosde, and verye hollow eied, With mightye furrowes in his stormye browes, Long haire down his shoulders curled, His Chinne was bare, but on his vpper lippe, A mutchado, which he wound about his eare,
Will.
What apparell had he,
Brad.
A watchet sattin doublet all to torne, The inner side did beare the greater show, A paire of threed bare Ueluet hose seame rent, A wosted stockin rent aboue the shoe, A liuery cloake, but all the lace was of, Twas bad, but yet it serued to hide the plate,
Will.
Sirra Shakebagge, canst thou remember Since we trould the boule at Sittingburgh, Where I broke the Tapsters head of the Lyon With a Cudgill sticke?
Shak.
I very well Will.
Will.
Why it was with the money that the plate was sould for: Sirra Bradshaw what wilt thou giue him That can tell thee who soulde thy plate?
Brad.
Who I pray thee good Will,
Will.
Why twas one Iacke Fitten, He's now in Newgate, for stealing a horse, And shall be arrainde the next sise.
Brad.
Why then, let Lord Cheiny seek Iack Fitte forth For Ile backe and tell him, who robbed him of his plate, This cheeres my hart M. Greene, Ile leaue you, For I must to the Ile of Sheppy with speede.
Greene Before you go let me intreat you To carry this letter to mistres Arden of Feuershame, And humbly recommend me to her selfe.
Brad.
That will I M. Grene, and so farewell. Heere Will, theres a Crowne for thy good newes.
Exit Bradshawe.
Will.
Farewell Bradshaw, Ile drinke no water for thy sake, whilest this lasts: Now gentleman, shall we haue your company to London.
Gre. Nay stay sirs, a lytle more I needs muste vse your helpe, And in a matter of great consequence, Wherein if youle be secret and profound, Ile giue you twenty Angels for your paines.
Will.
How? twenty Angells? giue my fellow George shakbag and me, twenty Angels, And if thoult haue thy owne father slaine, That thou mayst inherit his land, weele kill him.
Shak.
I thy Mother, thy sister, thy brother, or all thy kin.
Gre. Well this it is, Arden of Feuershame, Hath highly wrongd me about the Abby land, That no reuendge but death will serue the turne: Will you two kill him, heeres the Angels downe, And I will lay the platforme of his death:
Will.
Plat me no platformes giue me the money, And ile stab him as he stands pissing against a wall, but Ile kill him.
Sha.
Where is he?
Greene. He is now at London, in Aldersgate streete,
Shak.
He's dead, as if he had beene condemned By an act of parliament, if once Black Will and I Sweare his death,
Gre. Here is ten pound, and when he is dead, Ye shall haue twenty more:
Will.
My fingers itches to be at the pesant, Ah that I might be set a worke thus through the yeere, And that murther would grow to an occupation: That a man might without daunger of law, Zounds I warrant, I should be warden of the company, Come let vs be going, and wele bate at Rochester, Where Ile giue thee a gallon of Sack, To hansell the match with all. Exeunt,
Here enters Michael.
Mich. I haue gotten suche a letter, As will touche the Painter, And thus it is.
Here enters Arden and Francklin, and heares Michaell read this letter.
My duetye remembred Mistres Susan, hoping in God you be in good health, as I Michaell was at the making heereof. This is to certifie you, that as the Turtle true, when she hath lost her mate,
sitteth alone, so I mourning for your absence, do walk vp and down Poules, til one day I fell a sleepe and lost my maisters Pantophelles. Ah mistres Susan abbolishe that paltry Painter, cut him off by the shinnes, with afrowning looke of your crabed countenance, & think vpon Michaell, who druncke with the dregges of your fauour, wil cleaue as fast to your loue, as a plaster of Pitch to a gald horse back Thus hoping you will let my passions penetrate, or rather impetrate mercy of your meeke hands, I end.
Yours Michaell, or els not Michaell.
Ard. Why you paltrie knaue, Stand you here loytering, knowing my affaires, What haste my busines craues to send to Kent?
Fran. Faith frend Michaell, this is very ill, Knowing your maister hath no more but you, And do ye slacke his busines for your owne?
Ard. Where is the letter sirra, let me see it, Then he giues him the letter. See maister Francklin, heres proper stuffe, Susan my maid, the Painter, and my man, A crue of harlots all in loue forsooth, Sirra let me heare no more of this. Now for thy lyfe, once write to her a worde.
Here enters Grene, Will, and Shakebag,
Tis Mosbies sister, come I once at home, Ile rouse her from remaining in my house: Now M. Francklin let vs go walke in Paules, Come, but a turne or two and then away, Exeunt,
Gre. The first is Arden, and thats his man, The other is Francklin Ardens dearest freend,
Will.
Zounds Ile kill them all three,
Gre. Nay sirs, touch not his man in any case, But stand close, and take you fittest standing, And at his comming foorth speede him: To the Nages head, ther'is this cowards haunt, But now Ile leaue you till the deed be don: Exit Greene
[Page] Sha.
If he be not paid his owne nere trust shakebagge,
Wil. Sirra Shakbag, at his comming foorth Ile runne him through, and then to the blackfreers, And there take water and a way.
Sha.
Why thats the best, but see thou misse him not.
Wil.
How can I misse him, when I thinke on the fortye Angels I must haue more.
Here enters a Prentise,
Prentise.
Tis very late, I were best shute vp my stall, For heere will be ould filching when the presse comes foorth of Paules. Then lettes he downe his window, and it breaks Black Wils head.
Wil.
Zounds draw Shakbag draw, I am almost kild.
Pren.
Wele tame you I warrant.
Wil.
Zounds I am tame enough already,
Here enters Arden, Fran. & Michael.
Ard. What trublesome fray or mutany is this?
Fran Tis nothing but some brabling paltry fray. Deuised to pick mens pockets in the throng.
Ard. Ist nothing els? come Franklin let vs away. Exeunt
Wil.
What mends shal I haue for my broken head?
Pren.
Mary this mends, that if you get you not away All the sooner, you shall be well beaten and sent to the counter. Exit prentise.
Wil.
Well Ile be gone, but looke to your signes, For Ile pull them down all. Shakbag my broken head greeues me not so much, As by this meanes Arden hath escaped.
Here enters Greene.
Gre. Why sirs, Arden's as wel as I, I met him and Francklin going merrilly to the ordinary, What dare you not do it?
Wil.
Yes sir we dare do it, but were my consent to giue againe, We would not do it vnder ten pound more. I value euery drop of my blood at a french Crowne.
I haue had ten pound to steale a dogge, And we haue no more heere to kill a man, But that a bargane is a bargane, and so foorth, You should do it your selfe.
Gre. I pray thee how came thy head broke,
Will.
Why thou seest it is broke, dost thou not.
Sha.
Stading against a staule, watching Ardens coming, A boy let down his shop window, and broke his head. Wherevpon arose a braul, and in the tumult Arden escapt vs, and past by vnthought on. But forberance is no acquittance, Anothertime wele do it I warrant thee.
Gre. I pray thee will make cleane thy bloodie brow, And let vs bethink vs on some other place, Where Arden may be met with handsomly. Remember how deuoutly thou hast sworne, To kill the villaine thinke vpon thyne oath.
Will.
Tush, I haue broken fiue hundred oathes, But wouldst thou charme me to effect this dede? Tell me of gould my resolutions fee, Say thou seest Mosbie kneeling at my knees, Offring me seruice for my high attempt: And sweete Ales Arden with a lap of crownes. Comes with a lowly cursy to the earth, Saying take this, but for thy quarterige, Such yeerely tribute will I answer thee. Why this would steale soft metled cowardice, With which black Will was neuer tainted with. I tell thee Greene the forlorne trauailer, Whose lips are glewed with sommers parching heat, Nere longd so much to see a running brooke, As I to finish Ardens Tragedy. Seest thou this goare that cleaueth to my face? From hence nere will I wash this bloody staine, Til Ardens hart be panting in my hand.
Gre. Why thats wel said, but what saith shakbag?
Shak.
I cannot paint my valour out with words, But giue me place and opportunitie, Such mercy as the staruen Lyones When she is dry suckt of her eager young: Showes to the pray that next encounters her, On Arden so much pitty would I take.
Gre. So should it faire with men of firme resolue, And now sirs seeing this accident, Of meeting him in Paules hath no successe: Let vs bethinke vs on some other place, Whose earth may swallow vp this Ardens bloode.
Here enters Michaell.
The foolish knaue is in loue with Mosbies sister, And for her sake whose loue he cannot get, Unlesse Mosbie solicit his sute. The villaine hath sworne the slaughter of his maister, Weele question him, for he may stead vs muche: How now Michael whether are you going?
Mic. My maister hath new supt, And I am going to prepare his chamber.
Gre. Where supt M. Arden?
Mic. At the Nages head, at the 18 pence ordinarye, How now M. Shakbag, what Black Wil, Gods deere lady, how chaunce your face is so bloody?
Wil.
Go too sirra, there is a chaunce in it. This sawcines in you wil make you be knockt.
Mic. Nay and you be offended ile be gone.
Gre. Stay michael you may not scape vs so. Michael I knowe you loue your M. wel.
Mic. Why so I do, but wherefore vrdge you that?
Gre. Because I thinke you loue your mistres better, So think not I, but say, yfaith what if I should?
Shak.
Come to the purpose Michael, we heare You haue a pretty loue in Feuershame,
Mic. Why haue I two or three, whats that to thee?
Wil.
You deale to mildely, with the pesant, thus it is, Tis kowne to vs you loue mosbies sister. We know besides that you haue tane your oath, To further Mosbie to your mistres bed, And kill your M. for his sisters sake. Now sir, a poorer coward then your selfe, Was neuer fostered in the coast of Kent. How comes it then, that such aknaue as you Dare sweare a matter of such consequence?
Gre. Ah will.
Will.
Tush giue me leaue, thers no more but this, Sith thou hast sworne, we dare discouer all. And hadst thou or shouldst thou vtter it, We haue deuised a complat vnder hand What euer shall betide to any of vs: To send thee roundly to the diuell of hell. And therefore thus, I am the very man, Markt in my birth howre by the destynies, To giue an end to Ardens lyfe 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 traine thy M. to his tragedy. Myne to performe it, when occasion serues. Then be not nice, but here deuise with vs, How and what way, we may conclude his death.
Sha.
So shalt thou purchase, Mosbie for thy frend And by his frendship gaine his sisters loue.
Gre. So shal thy mistres be thy fauorer, And thou disburdned of the oath thou made.
Mic. Wel gentlemen I cannot but confesse, Sith you haue vrdged me so aparantly, That I haue vowed my M. Ardens death, And he whose kindly loue and liberall hand, Doth challenge naught but good deserts of me, I wil delyuer ouer to your hands.
This night come to his house at Aldersgate, The dores Ile leaue vnlockt against you come. No sooner shall ye enter through the latch, Ouer the thresholde to the inner court. But on your left hand shall you see the staires. That leads directly to my M. chamber. There take him and dispose him as ye please, Now it were good we parted company, What I haue promised, I will performe.
Wil.
Should you deceiue vs, twould go wrong w$^t$ you,
Mic. I will accomplish al I haue reuealde,
Wil.
Come let's go drinke, choller makes me as drye as a dog
Exeunt Will, Gre. and Shak. Manet Michaell.
Mic. Thus feedes the Lambe securely on the downe, Whilst through the thicket of an arber brake, The hunger bitten Woulfe orepryes his hant, And takes aduantage to eat him vp. Ah harmeles Arden how, how hast thou misdone, That thus thy gentle lyfe is leueld at, The many good turnes that thou hast don to me, Now must I quitance 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 fraudfull smile, As vnsuspected, to the slaughterhouse: So haue I sworne to Mosby and my mistres. So haue I promised to the slaughtermen. And should I not deale currently with them, Their lawles rage would take reuenge on me, Tush I will spurne at mercy for this once. Let pittie lodge where feeble women ly, I am resolued, and Arden needs must die. Exit Michaell.