Michael. Why, say I should be took, I’ll ne’er confess
That you know anything; and Susan, being a maid,
May beg me from the gallows of the sheriff.
Alice. Trust not to that, Michael.
Michael. You cannot tell me, I have seen it, I. 170
But, mistress, tell her, whether I live or die,
I’ll make her more worth than twenty painters can;
For I will rid mine elder brother away,
And then the farm of Bolton is mine own.
Who would not venture upon house and land,
When he may have it for a right down blow?
Here enters Mosbie.
Alice. Yonder comes Mosbie. Michael, get thee gone,
And let not him nor any know thy drifts.
[Exit Michael.
Mosbie, my love!
Mosbie. Away, I say, and talk not to me now. 180
Alice. A word or two, sweet heart, and then I will.
’Tis yet but early days, thou needst not fear.
Mosbie. Where is your husband?