Which turne away, great God, for Christes sake. 
Ah, Harry Williams, thou wert chiefest cause,
That I doe drinke of this most bitter cup,
For hadst thou opened Beeches death at first,
The boy had liv’d and thou hadst sav’d my life. 
But thou art branded with a marke of shame,
And I forgive thee from my very soule. 
Let him and me learn all that heare of this
To utter brothers or their maisters misse;
Conceale no murthers, lest it do beget
More bloody deeds of like deformitie. 
Thus God forgive my sinnes, receive my soule! 
And though my dinner be of bitter death,
I hope my soule shall sup with Jesus Christ,
And see his presence everlastingly. [Dyeth.

Offi.  The Lord of heaven have mercy on her soule,
And teach all others by this spectacle,
To shunne such dangers as she ran into,
By her misguided taciturnitie: 
Cut downe their bodies, give hers funerall,
But let his body be conveyed hence,
To Mile-end greene, and there be hang’d in chaines.

[Exeunt omnes.

Enter Truthe.

Tru.  See here the end of lucre and desire
Of riches, gotten by unlawfull meanes. 
What monstrous evils this hath brought to passe,
Your scarce-drie eyes give testimoniall;
The father sonne, the sister brother brings,
To open scandall and contemptuous death.

    Enter Homicide and Covetousnesse.

But heere come they that wrought these deeds of ruthe,
As if they meant to plot new wickednesse. 
Whether so fast, you damned miscreants,
Yee vaine deluders of the credulous,
That seeke to traine men to destruction?

Mur.  Why, we will on, to set more harmes a flote, That I may swim in rivers of warme blood, Out-flowing from the sides of Innocents.

Cove.  I will entice the greedie-minded soule, To pull the fruite from the forbidden tree; Yet Tantall-like, he shall but glut his eye, Nor feede his body with salubrious fruite.

Tru.  Hence Stigmaticks, you shall not harbor heare,
To practice execrable butcheries! 
My selfe will bring your close designes to light,
And overthrow your vilde conspiracies. 
No hart shall intertaine a murthrous thought
Within the sea-imbracing continent,
Where faire Eliza, Prince of pietie,
Doth weare the peace-adorned Diadem.

Cove.  Mauger the worst, I will have many harts
That shall affect my secret whisperings;
And chinck of golde is such a pleasing crie,
That all men wish to heare such harmony,
And I will place stern Murther by my side,
That we may do more harmes then haughty pride.

Homi.  Truth, now farewell; hereafter thou shalt see Ile vexe thee more with many tragedies.