m not in a sweate.

_Con_. Some sodaine feare affrights you; whats the cause?

_Mer_. Nothing but that you wak'd me unawares.

_Con_. In the Queenes name I doe commaund you rise,
And presently to goe along with us.
[_Riseth up_.

_Mer_. With all my hart; what, doe you know the cause?

_Con_. We partly doe; when saw you maister _Beech_?

_Mer_. I doe not well remember who you meane.

_Con_. Not _Beech_, the Chaundler upon _Lambert hill_?

_Mer_. I know the man, but saw him not this fortnight.

_Con_. I would you had not, for your sisters sake,
For yours, for his, and for his harmlesse boy.
Be not obdurate in your wickednesse;
Confession drawes repentance after it.

_Mer_. Well, maister Constable, I doe confesse,
I was the man that did them both to death:
As for my sister and my harmlesse man,
I doe protest they both are innocent.

_Con_. Your man is fast in hold, and hath confest
The manner how, and where, the deede was done;
Therefore twere vaine to colour anything.
Bring them away.

_Rach_. Ah brother, woe is me!

_Mer_. I comfortlesse will helpe to comfort thee.

[_Exeunt_.

_Enter Trueth_.

Weepe, weepe poor soules, & enterchange your woes;
Now, _Merry_, change thy name and countenance;
Smile not, thou wretched creature, least in scorne
Thou smile to thinke on thy extremities.
Thy woes were countlesse for thy wicked deedes,
Thy sisters death neede not increase the coumpt,
For thou couldst never number them before.--
Gentles, helpe out with this suppose, I pray,
And thinke it truth, for Truth dooth tell the tale.
_Merry_, by lawe convict as principall,
Receives his doome, to hang till he be dead,
And afterwards for to be hangd in chaines.
_Williams_ and _Rachell_ likewise are convict
For their concealment; _Williams_ craves his booke[42]
And so receaves a brond[43] of infamie;
But wretched _Rachels_ sexe denies that grace,
And therefore dooth receive a doome of death
To dye with him whose sinnes she did conceale.
Your eyes shall witnesse of their shaded tipes,
Which many heere did see perform'd indeed.
As for _Fallerio_, not his homelie weedes,
His beardlesse face, nor counterfetted speech,
Can shield him from deserved punishment;
But what he thinkes shall rid him from suspect,
Shall drench him in more waves of wretchednesse,
Pulling his sonne into relentlesse iawes,
Of hungrie death, on tree of infamie