_Jul._ Sleep you sweet glasses, An everlasting slumber crown those Chrystals, All my delight adue, farewell, Dear _Virolet_, Dear, Dear, most Dear; O I can weep no more, My body now is fire, and all consuming, Here will I sit, forget the world and all things, And only wait what heaven shall turn me to, For now methinks I should not live. [_She sits down._ _Enter_ Pandulfo. _P[a]nd._ O my sweet daughter, The work is finisht now, I promis'd thee: Here are thy virtues shewed, here register'd, And here shall live for ever. _Jul._ Blot it, burn it, I have no virtue, hateful I am as hell is. _Pand._ Is not this _Virolet_? _Jul._ Ask no more questions, Mistaking him I kill'd him. _Pand._ O my Son, Nature turns to my heart again, my dear Son, Son of my age, would'st thou go out so quickly? So poorly take thy leave, and never see me? Was this a kind stroak daughter? could you love him? Honour his Father, and so deadly strike him? O wither'd timeless youth, are all thy promises, Thy goodly growth of Honors come to this? Do I halt still i'th' world, and trouble nature, When her main pieces founder, and fail dayly? _Enter Boy, and three Servants._ _Boy._ He does weep certain: what bodie's that lies by him? How do you do Sir? _Pand._ O look there _Lucio_, Thy Master, thy best Master. _Boy._ Woe is me. They have kill'd him, slain him basely, O my Master! _Pand._ Well daughter well; what heart had you to do this? I know he did you wrong; but 'twas his fortune, And not his fault, for my sake that have lov'd you, But I see now you scorn me too. _Boy._ O Mistress? Can you [si]t there, and his cold body breathless? Basely upon the earth? _Pand._ Let her alone Boy, She glories in his end. _Boy._ You shall not sit here, And suffer him you loved--ha! good Sir come hither, Come hither quickly, heave her up; O heaven Sir, O God, my heart, sh's cold; cold and stiff too: Stiff as a stake, she's dead. _Pand._ She's gone, nere bend her. I know her heart, she could not want his company: Blessing go with thy soul, sweet Angels shadow it O, that I were the third now, what a happiness! But I must live, to see you layd in earth both, Then build a Chapel to your memories, Where all my wealth shall fashion out your stories. Then dig a little grave besides, and all's done. How sweet she looks, her eyes are open smiling, I thought she had been alive, you are my charge Sir, And amongst you, I'll see his goods distributed. Take up the bodies, mourn in heart my friends, You have lost two noble succors; follow me, And thou sad Countrey, weep this misery. [_Exeunt._