_Maid_. Yes I saw two trulie to my thinking, but they ranne away as fast as their hands could beare them.--By my troth twas so darke I could see no bodie.--[_To people_. Praie God Maister _Beech_ hath not hurt his boy in his patience and if he have he must be hangd in his choller. _Lo_. I dare be sworne he would not strike him thus, Praie God his Maister be not slaine himselfe. The night growes late, and we will have this course Be watch'd all night; to morrow we shall see Whence sprang this strange uncivill crueltie. _Nei_. Neighbour good night. _Lon_. Neighbors all good night. _Ma_. Praie God I never see so sad a sight. [_Exeunt omnes_. _Enter Merry knocking at the doore, and Rachell comes downe_. _Mer_. Oh sister, sister, now I am pursu'd! The mightie clamour that the boy did make, Hath raisde the neighbours round about the street: So that I know not where to hide my selfe. _Ra_. What, brother! have you kild _Beeches_ boy? _Mer_. No, no, not I, but yet another hath. Come, come to bed, for feare we be descri'd: The fearfullest night that ever _Merry_ knew! [_Exeunt_. [SCENE II.] _Enter Falleria and two Ruffaines_. _Fall_. Seeme it not strange, resolved gentlemen,[14] That I thus privatelie have severed you, To open secret furrowes of my hart. Think not I do intend to undermine, Your passed lives, although you know I am A man to whom the true unpartiall sworde, Of equall justice is delivered. Therefore sweare both, as you respect your soules, At the last dreadfull sessions held in heaven, First to conceale, and next to execute, What I reveale, and shall enioyne you to. _Both_. So you rewarde us, whatsoever it be, We vowe performance, and true secrecie. _Fall_. There go aside, yee seeming semblances, Of equall justice, and true pietie, And lay my hearts corrupted Cytadell Wide open to your thoughts to look into. Know I am named _Fallerio_ to deceive The world with shew of truth and honestie, But yet nor truth, nor honestie abides Within my thoughts, but falshood, crueltie, Blood-sucking _Avarice_, and all the sinnes, That hale men on to bloodie stratagems, Like to your selves, which care not how you gaine, By blood, extorcion, falshood, periurie, So you may have a pleasing recompence: [_They start_. Start not aside, depart not from your selves, I know your composition is as mine, Of bloud, extortion, falshood, periurie, True-branded with the marke of wickednesse. 1 _Ruffin_. Be not so bitter; we are they indeede, That would deprive our fathers of their lives, So we were sure to have a benefit: I way no more the murthring of a child, Drag'd from the sucking bosome of his mother, Then I respect to quaffe a boule of wine, Unto his health, that dearely loveth me.