Alen.  But yet I slew my mother, did I not?

Fal.  I, with reporting of my villanie. 
The very audit of my wickednesse,
Had force enough to give a sodaine death. 
Ah sister, sister, now I call to minde,
Thy dying wordes now prov’d a prophesie,
If you deale ill with this distressed childe,
God will no doubt revenge the innocent. 
I have delt ill, and God hath tane revenge.

Allen.  Now let us leave remembrance of past deedes, And thinke on that which more concerneth us.

Fal.  With all my hart; thou ever wert the spur
Which prict me on to any godlinesse;
And now thou doest indevor to incite
Me make my parting peace with God and men. 
I doe confesse, even from my verie soule,
My hainous sinne and grievous wickednesse
Against my maker manie thousand waies: 
Ab imo cordis I repent my selfe
Of all my sinnes against his maiestie;
And, heavenly father, lay not to my charge
The death of poore Pertillo and those men
Which I suborn’d to be his murtherers,
When I appeare before thy heavenlie throne
To have my sentence or of life or death.

Vesu.  Amen, amen, and God continue still These mercie-moving meditations.

Allen.  And thou, great God, which art omnipotent,
Powerful! enough for to redeeme our soules
Even from the verie gates of gaping hell,
Forgive our sinnes and wash away our faults
In the sweete river of that precious blood
Which thy deare sonne did shed in Galgotha,
For the remission of all contrite soules.

Fal.  Forgive thy death, my thrice-beloved sonne.

Allen.  I doe, and, father, pardon my misdeedes Of disobedience and unthankfullnesse.

Fal.  Thou never yet wert disobedient, Unlesse I did commaund unlawfulnesse.  Ungratefulnesse did never trouble thee; Thou art too bounteous thus to guerdon me.

Allen.  Come, let us kisse and thus imbrace in death.  Even when you will, come, bring us to the place, Where we may consumate our wretchednesse, And change it for eternall hapinesse.

[Exeunt omnes.

[SCENE II.]

Enter Merry and Rachel to execution with Officers
with Halberdes, the Hangman with a lather [sic] &c.

Mer.  Now, sister Rachell, is the houre come
Wherein we both must satisfie the law
For Beeches death and harmelesse Winchester. 
Weepe not sweete sister, for that cannot helpe: 
I doe confesse fore all this company
That thou wert never privie to their deathes,
But onelie helpest me, when the deede was done,
To wipe the blood and hide away my sinne;
And since this fault hath brought thee to this shame,
I doe intreate thee on my bended knee
To pardon me for thus offending thee.