Mosbie. I cannot eat, but I’ll sit for company.
Arden. Sirrah Michael, see our horse be ready.
Alice. Husband, why pause ye? why eat you not?
Arden. I am not well; there’s something in this broth
That is not wholesome: didst thou make it, Alice?
Alice. I did, and that’s the cause it likes not you.
[Then she throws down the broth on the ground.
There’s nothing that I do can please your taste;
You were best to say I would have poisoned you. 370
I cannot speak or cast aside my eye,
But he imagines I have stepped awry.
Here’s he that you cast in my teeth so oft:
Now will I be convinced or purge myself.
I charge thee speak to this mistrustful man,
Thou that wouldst see me hang, thou, Mosbie, thou:
What favour hast thou had more than a kiss
At coming or departing from the town?
Mosbie. You wrong yourself and me to cast these doubts:
Your loving husband is not jealous. 380
Arden. Why, gentle Mistress Alice, cannot I be ill
But you’ll accuse yourself?
Franklin, thou hast a box of mithridate;
I’ll take a little to prevent the worst.
Franklin. Do so, and let us presently take horse;
My life for yours, ye shall do well enough.