Ju. Oh, oh, oh.
1. Groans are too late, sooner the ravisher,
Whose soul is hurl'd into eternal frost,
Stung with the force of twenty thousand winters,
To punish the distempers of his blood,
Shall hope to get from thence, than thou avoid
The certainty of meeting hell where he is.
Shall murderers be there for ever dying,
Their souls shot through with Adders, torn on Engines,
Dying as many deaths for killing one,
Could any imagination number them,
As there be moments in eternity:
And shall that Justice spare thee, that hast slain,
Murdered by thy extortion so many?
Ju. Oh, oh.
2. Do execution quickly, or we'll carry thee alive to hell.
Ju. Gently, gentle devils, do not force me
To kill my self, nor do not you do't for me;
Oh let me live, I'll make amends for all.
1. Tell us of thy repentance? perjur'd villain,
Pinch off his flesh, he must be whipt, salted and whipt.
Ju. Oh misery of miseries!
Recorders 1. 2. Tear his accursed limbs, to hell with him, ha!
A mischief on that innocent face, away. [Creeps in.
Enter Boy like an Angel.
Boy. Malicious furies hence, choak not the seeds
Of holy penitence.