thou mongst them must suffer punishment,
Unlesse thou do confesse it presentlie.

_Wil_. What? shall I then betray my maisters life?

_Cow_. Better then hazard both thy life and soule
To boulster out such barbarous villanie.
Why, then belike your maister did the deed?

_Wil_. My maister unawares escapt my mouth;
But what the Lord doth please shall come to light,
Cannot be hid by humaine pollicie:
His haplesse hand hath wrought the fatall end
Of _Robert Beech_ and _Thomas Winchester_.

_Cow_. Could he alone do both those men to death?
Hadst thou no share in execution?

_Wil_. Nor knew not of it, till the deed was done.

_Cow_. If this be true, thou maist escape with life:
Confesse the truth unto the officers,
And thou shalt finde the favour of the lawe.

_Wil_. If I offended, 'twas my Maister's love
That made me hide his great transgressions:
But I will be directed as you please.
So save me God, as I am innocent!

[_Exeunt_.

[SCENE VIII.]

_Enter Alenso in Falleriaes apparell and berd;
Falleria shaven in shepheards habilliments_.

_Fal_. Part of my selfe, now seemst thou wholy me,
And I seeme neither like my selfe nor thee,
Thankes to thy care and this unknown disguise.
I like a shepheard now must learn to know,
When to lead foorth my little bleating flock,
To pleasing pastures, and well-fatting walkes;
In stormie time to drive them to the lee;
To cheere the pretie Lambes, whose bleating voice
Doth crave the wished comfort of their dams;
To sound my merry Bag-pipe on the downes,
In shearing times, poore Shepheards festivals;
And lastlie, how to drive the Wolfe away,
That seeke to make the little Lambes their pray.

_Allen_. Ah, have you care to drive the Wolfe away
From sillie creatures wanting intellecte,
And yet would suffer your devouring thoughts,
To suck the blood of your dead brothers sonne!
As pure and innocent as any Lambe
_Pertillo_ was, which you have fed upon.
But things past helpe may better be bewaild
With carefull teares, then finde a remedie;
Therefore, for feare our practise be espide,
Let us to question of our husbandrie.
How many Lambes fell from the middle flock,
Since I myselfe did take the latter view?

_Enter Vesuvio, Turqual, Alberto_.

_Fall_. Some vive and twenty, whereof two are dead.
But three and twenty scud about the fields,
That glads my hart to ze their iollitie.

_Vesu_. This is the man, conferring of h