Mer. Peace you great fool.
Wife. Then good Sir carry me to some retir'd place, far from the sight of this unhappy City, whether you will indeed, so it be far enough.
Mer. If I might Councel you, I think 'twere better to go home,
And try what may be done yet, he may be at home afore you, Who can tell?
Wife. O no, I know he's dead, I know he's murder'd; tell me not of going home, you murder me too.
Mer. Well, since it pleases you to have it so, I will no more perswade you to go home, I'll be your guide in the Countrey, as your grief doth command me, I have a Mother dwelling from this place some 20 miles: the house though homely, yet able to shew something like a welcome; thither I'll see you safe with all your sorrows.
Wife. With all the speed that may be thought upon; I have a Coach here ready, good Sir quickly; I'll fit you my fine husband.
Mer. It shall be so; if this fellow be dead, I see no band of any other Man, to tye me from my will, and I will follow her with such careful service, that she shall either be my Love, or Wife; Will you walk in?
Wife. I thank you, Sir, but one word with my Man, and I am ready; keep the Irish fellow safe, as you love your life, for he I fear has a deep hand in this, then search agen, and get out warrants for that naughty man, that keeps the bad house, that he may answer it, if you find the body, give it due burial; farewel. You shall hear from me, keep all safe. [Exeunt.
Ser. O my sweet Master!
Antonio knocking within.