Greene. I heard your husband hath the grant of late,
Confirmed by letters patents from the king, 460
Of all the lands of the Abbey of Feversham,
Generally intitled, so that all former grants
Are cut off; whereof I myself had one;
But now my interest by that is void.
This is all, Mistress Arden; is it true or no?
Alice. True, Master Greene; the lands are his in state,
And whatsoever leases were before
Are void for term of Master Arden’s life;
He hath the grant under the Chancery seal.
Greene. Pardon me, Mistress Arden, I must speak, 470
For I am touched. Your husband doth me wrong
To wring me from the little land I have.
My living is my life, and only that
Resteth remainder of my portion.
Desire of wealth is endless in his mind,
And he is greedy-gaping still for gain;
Nor cares he though young gentlemen do beg,
So he may scrape and hoard up in his pouch.
But, seeing he hath ta’en my lands, I’ll value life
As careless as he is careful for to get: 480
And tell him this from me, I’ll be revenged,
And so as he shall wish the Abbey lands
Had rested still within their former state.
Alice. Alas, poor gentleman, I pity you,
And woe is me that any man should want!
God knows ’tis not my fault; but wonder not
Though he be hard to others, when to me,—
Ah, Master Greene, God knows how I am used.
Greene. Why, Mistress Arden, can the crabbed churl
Use you unkindly? respects he not your birth, 490
Your honourable friends, nor what you brought?
Why, all Kent knows your parentage and what you are.
Alice. Ah, Master Greene, be it spoken in secret here,
I never live good day with him alone:
When he’s at home, then have I froward looks,
Hard words and blows to mend the match withal;
And though I might content as good a man,
Yet doth he keep in every corner trulls;
And when he’s weary with his trugs at home,
Then rides he straight to London; there, forsooth, 500
He revels it among such filthy ones
As counsels him to make away his wife.
Thus live I daily in continual fear,
In sorrow; so despairing of redress
As every day I wish with hearty prayer
That he or I were taken forth the world.
Greene. Now trust me, Mistress Alice, it grieveth me
So fair a creature should be so abused.
Why, who would have thought the civil sir so sullen?
He looks so smoothly. Now, fie upon him, churl! 510
And if he live a day, he lives too long.
But frolic, woman! I shall be the man
Shall set you free from all this discontent;
And if the churl deny my interest
And will not yield my lease into my hand,
I’ll pay him home, whatever hap to me.
Alice. But speak you as you think?
Greene. Ay, God’s my witness, I mean plain dealing,
For I had rather die than lose my land.
Alice. Then, Master Greene, be counsellèd by me: 520
Indanger not yourself for such a churl,
But hire some cutter for to cut him short,
And here’s ten pound to wager them withal;
When he is dead, you shall have twenty more,
And the lands whereof my husband is possess’d
Shall be intitled as they were before.