Win. I wonder that my maister staies so long; He had not wont to be abroade so late. Yonder comes one; I thinke that same is he.
Mer. I see the boye sits at his maisters doore. Or now, or never; Merry, stir thy selfe, And rid thy hart from feare and jealousie.— Thomas Winchester, go quicklie to your shoppe: What, sit you still? your maister is at hand.
[When the boy goeth into the shoppe Merrie striketh six blowes
on his head & with the seaventh leaves the hammer sticking in his
head; the boy groaning must be heard by a maide who must crye to
her Maister.
[Merrie flieth.
Mai. Oh God I thinke theres theeves in Beeches shop.
Enter one in his shirt and a maide, and comming to Beeches shop findes the boy murthered.
Nei. What cruell hand hath done so foule a deede,
Thus to bemangle a distressed youth
Without all pittie or a due remorse!
See how the hammer sticketh in his head,
Wherewith this honest youth is done to death!
Speak, honest Thomas, if any speach remaine:
What cruell hand hath done this villanie?
He cannot speake, his senses are bereft.
Hoe, neighbour Loney! pray come downe with speede,
Your tennant Beeches man is murthered.
Loney sleeping. What, would you have some mustard?
Nei. Your tennant Beeches man, is murthered.
Lo. Whose smothered, I thinke you lack your wit What, neighbor? what make[13] you here so late? [Out at a window.
Nei. I was affrighted by a sodaine crie, And comming downe saw maister Beeches man, Thus with a hammer sticking in his head. [Comes to win.