Boy. Thy Wife.
Ju. I shall be tormented.
Boy. Thy abus'd wife, that cannot peaceably
Enjoy her death, thou hast an evil conscience.
Ju. I know it.
Boy. Among thy other sins which black thy soul,
Call to thy mind thy vow made to another,
Whom thou hast wrong'd, and make her satisfaction
Now I am dead, thou perjur'd man: or else
A thousand black tormentors shall pursue thee,
Untill thou leap into eternal flames;
Where gold which thou ador[e]'st here on earth
Melted, the fiends shall powre into thy throat;
For this time pass, go home and think upon me.
Lur. Away.
Ser. There are more spirits.
Ju. Thank you dear wife,
I'll bestow twenty nobles of a Tomb for thee,
Thou shalt not walk and catch cold after death. [They go Backward in.
Lu. So, so, they'r gone, 'twas my ingenious rascal:
But how dost thou know he made vows to another?
Boy. I over-heard the woman talk to night on't;
But now let's lose no time Sir, pray lets bury
This Gentlewoman, where's my Mistress?