his head and legs
Will be one burthen; then the mangled rest,
Will be another, which I will transport,
Beyond the water in a Ferryboate,
And throw it into _Paris-garden_ ditch,[16]
Fetch me the chopping knife, and in the meane
Ile move the fagots that do cover him.
[_Remove the Fagots_.

_Rach_. Oh can you finde in hart to cut and carve,
His stone-colde flesh, and rob the greedy grave,
Of his dissevered blood-besprinkled lims?

_Mer_. I, mary can I:--fetch the chopping knife.

_Rach_. This deed is worse, then when you took his life. [_Exit_.

_Mer_. But worse, or better, now it must be so,
Better do thus than feele a greater woe.

_Enter Rach_.

Here is the knife, I cannot stay to see
This barbarous deed of inhumanitie. [_Exit Rachel_.

[_Merry begins to cut the body, and bindes the armes
behinde his back with Beeches garters; leaves out the
body, covers the head and legs againe_.

_Enter Truth_.

Yee glorious beames of that bright-shining lampe
That lights the starre-bespangled firmament,
And dimnes the glimmering shadowes of the night,
Why doost thou lend assistance to this wretch,
To shamble forth with bold audacitie
His lims, that beares thy makers semblance!
All you the sad spectators of this Acte,
Whose harts do taste a feeling pensivenesse
Of this unheard of, savadge massacre,
Oh be farre of to harbour such a thought
As this audacious murtherer put in ure![17]
I see your sorrowes flowe up to the brim,
And overflowe your cheekes with brinish teares,
But though this sight bring surfet to the eye,
Delight your eares with pleasing harmonie,[18]
That eares may counterchecke your eyes, and say,
Why shed you teares, this deede is but a playe?
His worke is done, he seekes to hide his sinne;
Ile waile his woe before his woe begin. [_Exit Trueth_.

_Mer_. Now will I high me to the water side,
And fling this heavie burthen in a ditche,
Whereof my soule doth feele so great a waight
That it doth almost presse me downe with feare.

[ACT THE THIRD.]

[SCENE I.]

_Enter Rachell_.

Harke, _Rachell_, I will crosse the water straight
And fling this middle mention of a man
Into some ditch; then high me home againe,
To rid my house of that is left behinde.

_Rach_. Where have you laid the legs & battered head?

_Mer_. Under the fagots where it lay before.
Helpe me to put this trunk into the bag.

_Rach_. My heart will