Michael. Nay, an you be offended, I’ll be gone.
Greene. Stay, Michael, you may not escape us so.
Michael, I know you love your master well.
Michael. Why, so I do; but wherefore urge you that?
Greene. Because I think you love your mistress better.
Michael. So think not I; but say, i’ faith, what, if I should?
Shakebag. Come to the purpose, Michael; we hear 143
You have a pretty love in Feversham.
Michael. Why, have I two or three, what’s that to thee!
Will. You deal too mildly with the peasant. Thus it is:
’Tis known to us that you love Mosbie’s sister;
We know besides that you have ta’en your oath
To further Mosbie to your mistress’ bed,
And kill your master for his sister’s sake.
Now, sir, a poorer coward than yourself 150
Was never fostered in the coast of Kent:
How comes it then that such a knave as you
Dare swear a matter of such consequence?
Greene. Ah, Will——
Will. Tush, give me leave, there’s no more but this:
Sith thou hast sworn, we dare discover all;
And hadst thou or should’st thou utter it,
We have devised a complat under hand,
Whatever shall betide to any of us,
To send thee roundly to the devil of hell. 160
And therefore thus: I am the very man,
Marked in my birth-hour by the destinies,
To give an end to Arden’s life 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 train thy master to his tragedy;
Mine to perform it when occasion serves.
Then be not nice, but here devise with us
How and what way we may conclude his death. 170