Enter Rachell.
Rach. A maide that came to have a pennie loafe.
Mer. I would a pennie loafe cost me a pound, Provided Beeches boy had eate his last.
Rach. Perchance the boy doth not remember you.
Mer. It may be so,—but ile remember him. [To people. And send him quicklie with a bloodie scrowle, To greete his maister in another world.
Rach. Ile go to Beeches on a faind excuse, To see if he will ask me for his maister.
Mer. No, get you up, you shall not stir abroade, And when I call, come quicklie to the dore.
Rach. Brother, or that, or any thing beside, To please your mind, or ease your miserie. [Exit.
Mer. I am knee-deepe, ile wade up to the wast,
To end my hart of feare, and to atteine
The hoped end of my intention.
But I maie see, if I have eyes to see,
And if my understanding be not blind,
How manie dangers do alreadie waight,
Upon my steppes of bold securitie.
Williams is fled, perchaunce to utter all;
Thats but perchance, naie rather flatlie no.
But should he tell, I can but die a death;
Should he conceale, the boy would utter it;
The boy must die, there is no remedie.
[The boy sitting at his maisters dore.