Enter the Lady Averne and her maid Mellesent.
Lady. Which, noble Sir, the Kinge thus mittigates:
See, I have heare your pardon. In the tyme
That you weare ceas'd with this deepe melancholly
And inward sorrowe for a sinne so fowle,
My self in person posted to the Kinge
(In progresse not farr off), to him related
The passadge of your busines, neather rose I
From off my knees till hee had signd to this.
Av. Th'hast doon the offyce of a noble wyfe.
His grace I'l not despyse, nor thy great love
Ever forgett, and iff way may bee fownd
To make least satisfaction to the dead,
I'l doo't in vowed repentance.
Abb. Which our prayers In all our best devotions shall assist.
Ashb. All ours, great Syr, to boote.
Av. Wee knowe you well and thanke you.
Ashb. But must nowe
Forsake this place, which wee shall ever blesse
For the greate good that wee have fownd therein,
And hence remoove for England.
Av. Not beefore
All your successfull Joyes wee heare related
To comfort our late sorrowes; to which purpose
Wee invite you and your frends to feast with us.
That granted, we will see you safe aboord:
And as wee heare rejoyce in your affayers,
Forget not us in England in your prayers.
[Exeunt.