Act 4 — SCENE II

The Kentish Coast opposite the Isle of Sheppy. Here enters Arden and Franklin. Arden. Oh, ferryman, where art thou? Here enters the Ferryman. Ferryman. Here, here, go before to the boat, and I will follow you. Arden. We have great haste; I pray thee, come away. Ferryman. Fie, what a mist is here! Arden. This mist, my friend, is mystical, Like to a good companion’s smoky brain, That was half drowned with new ale overnight. Ferryman. ’Twere pity but his skull were opened to make more chimney room. 10 Franklin. Friend, what’s thy opinion of this mist? Ferryman. I think ’tis like to a curst wife in a little house, that never leaves her husband till she have driven him out at doors with a wet pair of eyes; then looks he as if his house were a-fire, or some of his friends dead. Arden. Speaks thou this of thine own experience? Ferryman. Perhaps, ay; perhaps, no: For my wife is as other women are, that is to say, governed by the moon. 20 Franklin. By the moon? how, I pray thee? Ferryman. Nay, thereby lies a bargain, and you shall not have it fresh and fasting. Arden. Yes, I pray thee, good ferryman. Ferryman. Then for this once; let it be midsummer moon, but yet my wife has another moon. Franklin. Another moon? Ferryman. Ay, and it hath influences and eclipses. Arden. Why, then, by this reckoning you sometimes play the man in the moon? 30 Ferryman. Ay, but you had not best to meddle with that moon, lest I scratch you by the face with my bramble-bush. Arden. I am almost stifled with this fog; come, let’s away. Franklin. And, sirrah, as we go, let us have some more of your bold yeomanry. Ferryman. Nay, by my troth, sir, but flat knavery. [Exeunt.