Enter Franceschina, Sir Lionel, Tysefew, with Officers.

Fra. You bin very velcom to mine shambra.

Sir Lio. But, how know ye, how are ye assured,
Both of the deed, and of his sure return?

Fra. O min-here, ick sall tell you. Metre Malheureux came all bretless running a my shambra, his sword all bloudy: he tel a me he had kil Freevill, and pred a me to conceal him. Ick flatter him, bid bring monies, he should live and lie vid me. He went, whilst ick (me hope vidout sins), out of mine mush love to Freevill, betray him.    10

Sir Lio. Fear not, ’tis well: good works get grace for sin.

[She conceals them behind the curtain.

Fra. Dere, peace, rest dere; so, softly, all go in.—
De net is lay, now sal ick be revenge.
If dat me knew a dog dat Freevill love,
Me would puisson him; for know de deepest hell
As a revenging woman’s naught so fell.

Enter Mary Faugh.

Mar. Ho! Cousin Frank, the party you wot of, Master Malheureux—

Fra. Bid him come up, I prede.