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قراءة كتاب Arden of Feversham

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Arden of Feversham

Arden of Feversham

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دار النشر: Project Gutenberg
الصفحة رقم: 3

class="smcap">Thomas Arden, Gentleman, of Feversham

  • Franklin, his Friend
  • Mosbie
  • Clarke, a Painter
  • Adam Fowle, Landlord of the Flower-de-Luce
  • Bradshaw, a Goldsmith
  • Michael, Arden’s Servant
  • Greene
  • Richard Reede, a Sailor
  • Black Will } Murderers
  • Shakebag     }
  • A Prentice
  • A Ferryman
  • Lord Cheiny, and his Men
  • Mayor of Feversham, and Watch
  • Alice, Arden’s Wife
  • Susan, Mosbie’s Sister
  • ARDEN OF FEVERSHAM

    ACT I

    A Room in Arden’s House.
    Enter Arden and Franklin.
    Franklin. Arden, cheer up thy spirits, and droop no more!
    My gracious Lord, the Duke of Somerset,
    Hath freely given to thee and to thy heirs,
    By letters patents from his Majesty,
    All the lands of the Abbey of Feversham.
    Here are the deeds, [He hands them.
    Sealed and subscribed with his name and the king’s:
    Read them, and leave this melancholy mood.
    Arden. Franklin, thy love prolongs my weary life;
    And but for thee how odious were this life, 10
    That shows me nothing but torments my soul,
    And those foul objects that offend mine eyes!
    Which makes me wish that for this veil of heaven
    The earth hung over my head and covered me.
    Love-letters pass ’twixt Mosbie and my wife,
    And they have privy meetings in the town:
    Nay, on his finger did I spy the ring
    Which at our marriage-day the priest put on.
    Can any grief be half so great as this?
    Franklin. Comfort thyself, sweet friend; it is not strange 20
    That women will be false and wavering.
    Arden. Ay, but to dote on such a one as he
    Is monstrous, Franklin, and intolerable.
    Franklin. Why, what is he?
    Arden. A botcher, and no better at the first;
    Who, by base brokage getting some small stock,
    Crept into service of a nobleman,
    And by his servile flattery and fawning
    Is now become the steward of his house,
    And bravely jets it in his silken gown. 30
    Franklin. No nobleman will countenance such a peasant.
    Arden. Yes, the Lord Clifford, he that loves not me.
    But through his favour let him not grow proud;
    For were he by the Lord Protector backed,
    He should not make me to be pointed at.
    I am by birth a gentleman of blood,
    And that injurious ribald, that attempts
    To violate my dear wife’s chastity
    (For dear I hold her love, as dear as heaven)
    Shall on the bed which he thinks to defile 40
    See his dissevered joints and sinews torn,
    Whilst on the planchers pants his weary body,
    Smeared in the channels of his lustful blood.
    Franklin. Be patient, gentle friend, and learn of me
    To ease thy grief and save her chastity:
    Intreat her fair; sweet words are fittest engines
    To race the flint walls of a woman’s breast.
    In any case be not too jealous,
    Nor make no question of her love to thee;
    But, as securely, presently take horse, 50
    And lie with me at London all this term;
    For women, when they may, will not,
    But, being kept back, straight grow outrageous.
    Arden. Though this abhors from reason, yet I’ll try it,
    And call her forth and presently take leave.
    How! Alice!
    Here enters Alice.
    Alice. Husband, what mean you to get up so early?
    Summer-nights are short, and yet you rise ere day.
    Had I been wake, you had not risen so soon.
    Arden. Sweet love, thou knowest that we two, Ovid-like, 60
    Have often chid the morning when it ’gan to peep,
    And often wished that dark night’s purblind steeds
    Would pull her by the purple mantle back,
    And cast her in the ocean to her love.
    But this night, sweet Alice, thou hast killed my heart:
    I heard thee call on Mosbie in thy sleep.
    Alice. ’Tis like I was asleep when I named him,
    For being awake he comes not in my thoughts.
    Arden. Ay, but you started up and suddenly,
    Instead of him, caught me about the neck. 70
    Alice. Instead of him? why, who was there but you?
    And where but one is, how can I mistake?
    Franklin. Arden, leave to urge her over-far.
    Arden. Nay, love, there is no credit in a dream;
    Let it suffice I know thou lovest me well.
    Alice. Now I remember whereupon it came:
    Had we no talk of Mosbie yesternight?
    Franklin. Mistress Alice, I heard you name him once or twice.
    Alice. And thereof came it, and therefore

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