Alice. ’Tis now high water, and he is at the quay.
Mosbie. There let him be; henceforward know me not.
Alice. Is this the end of all thy solemn oaths?
Is this the fruit thy reconcilement buds?
Have I for this given thee so many favours,
Incurred my husband’s hate, and, out alas!
Made shipwreck of mine honour for thy sake? 190
And dost thou say ‘henceforward know me not’?
Remember, when I lock’d thee in my closet,
What were thy words and mine; did we not both
Decree to murder Arden in the night?
The heavens can witness, and the world can tell,
Before I saw that falsehood look of thine,
’Fore I was tangled with thy ’ticing speech,
Arden to me was dearer than my soul,—
And shall be still: base peasant, get thee gone,
And boast not of thy conquest over me, 200
Gotten by witchcraft and mere sorcery!
For what hast thou to countenance my love,
Being descended of a noble house,
And matched already with a gentleman
Whose servant thou may’st be!—and so farewell.
Mosbie. Ungentle and unkind Alice, now I see
That which I ever feared, and find too true:
A woman’s love is as the lightning-flame,
Which even in bursting forth consumes itself.
To try thy constancy have I been strange; 210
Would I had never tried, but lived in hope!
Alice. What need’st thou try me whom thou ne’er found false?
Mosbie. Yet pardon me, for love is jealous.
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.