_Allen_.--Knewst thou my reason, that perswades my hart, Thou wouldst not wonder, why I grieve to part: But yet I would suspect my fathers vowe, Did any other make it by your leave. _Fall_. What have you done? this lothnesse to depart, Seemes you were trained up in tediousnesse, Thou knowst not when and where to make an end. Take him my friends, I know you will discharge The hope and trust that I repose in you. _Both_. Assure your selfe, in every circumstance. _Fall_. Then to your horses quicklie, speedily, Else we shall put our fingers in the eye, And weepe for kindnesse till tomorrow morne. _Per_. Farewell good Unckle, Aunt, and loving cooze. [_Sostratus [sic] kisseth the boy weeping_. _Allen_. Farewell.--I fear me everlastinglie. [_Exeunt Sostratus and Allenso_. [_One of the Murtherers takes Falleria by the sleeve_. 1 _mu_. You meane not now to have him murthered? _Fall_. Not murthered, what else? kill him, I say: But wherefore makes thou question of my will? _Mur_. Because you wisht that God should be revenged, If any ill betide the innocent. _Fall_. Oh that was nothing but to blind the eyes Of my fond sonne, which loves him too too well. _Mer_. It is enough, it shall be surely done. [_Exeunt om_. [SCENE VI.] _Enter Merry and Rachel with a bag_. _Mer_. What, hast thou sped? have you bought the bag? _Rach_. I, brother, here it is; what is't to do? _Mer_. To beare hence _Beeches_ body in the night. _Rach_. You cannot beare so great a waight your selfe, And tis no trusting of another man. _Mer_. Yes well enough, as I will order it. Ile cut him peece-meale; first 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_.