Alice. But tell me, is he angry or displeased?
Adam. It should seem so, for he is wondrous sad.
Alice. Were he as mad as raving Hercules,
I’ll see him, I; and were thy house of force,
These hands of mine should race it to the ground,
Unless that thou wouldst bring me to my love.
Adam. Nay, and you be so impatient, I’ll be gone. 120
Alice. Stay, Adam, stay; thou wert wont to be my friend.
Ask Mosbie how I have incurred his wrath;
Bear him from me these pair of silver dice,
With which we played for kisses many a time,
And when I lost, I won, and so did he;—
Such winning and such losing Jove send me!
And bid him, if his love do not decline,
To come this morning but along my door,
And as a stranger but salute me there:
This may he do without suspect or fear. 130
Adam. I’ll tell him what you say, and so farewell.
[Exit Adam.
Alice. Do, and one day I’ll make amends for all.—
I know he loves me well, but dares not come,
Because my husband is so jealous,
And these my narrow-prying neighbours blab,
Hinder our meetings when we would confer.
But, if I live, that block shall be removed,
And, Mosbie, thou that comes to me by stealth,
Shalt neither fear the biting speech of men,
Nor Arden’s looks; as surely shall he die 140
As I abhor him and love only thee.
Here enters Michael.
How now, Michael, whither are you going?