University of Virginia Library

Enter at one doore, Hystorie with Drum and Ensigne: Tragedie at another, in her one hand a whip, in the other hand a knife.
Tragedie.
Whither away so fast? peace with that drum:
Downe with that Ensigne which disturbs our stage
out with this luggage, with this fopperie,
This brawling sheepeskin is intollerable.

Hyst.
Indeed no maruel though we should giue place
Unto a common executioner:
Roome, roome for Gods sake, let vs stand away,
Oh we shall haue some doughtie stuffe to day.

Enter Comedie at the other end.
Tra.
What yet more Cats guts? O this filthie sound
Stifles mine eares:
More cartwheeles craking yet?
A plague vpont, Ile cut your fiddle strings,
If you stand scraping thus to anger me.

Com.
Gup mistris buskins with a whirligig, are you so tuchie?
Madam Melpomine, whose mare is dead
That you are going to take off her skin?

Tra.
A plague vpon these filthie fidling trickes,
Able to poyson any noble wit:
Auoid the stage or Ile whip you hence.

Com.
Indeed thou maist, for thou art Murthers Beadle,
The common hangman vnto Tyrannie.
But Hystorie, what all three met at once?
What wonder's towards that we are got togither?

Hyst.
My meaning was to haue beene here to day,
But meeting with my Ladie Tragedie,
She scoulds me off:
And Comedie, except thou canst preuaile,
I thinke she meanes to banish vs the stage.

Com.
Tut, tut, she cannot: she may for a day
Or two perhaps be had in some request,
But once a weeke if we do not appeere,
She shall find few that will attend her heere.

Trag.
I must confesse you haue some sparkes of wit,
Some odde ends of old ieasts scrap't vp togither,
To tickle shallow iniudiciall eares,
Perhaps some puling passion of a louer, but slight & childish,
What is this to me?
I must haue passions that must moue the soule,
Make the heart heauie, and throb within the bosome,
Extorting teares out of the strictest eyes,
To racke a thought and straine it to his forme,
Untill I rap the sences from their course,
This is my office.

Com.
How some damnd tyrant to obtaine a crowne,
Stabs, hangs, impoysons, smothers, cutteth throats,
And then a Chorus too comes howling in,
And tels vs of the worrying of a cat,
Then of a filthie whining ghost,
Lapt in some fowle sheete, or a leather pelch,
Comes skreaming like a pigge halfe stickt,
And cries Vindicta, reuenge, reuenge:
With that a little Rosen flasheth forth,
Like smoke out of a Tabacco pipe, or a boyes squib:
Then comes in two or three like to drouers,
With taylers bodkins, stabbing one another,
Is not this trim? is not here goodly things?
That you should be so much accounted of,
I would not else.

Hyst.
Now before God thoul't make her mad anone,
Thy ieasts are like a Wispe vnto a scould.

Com.
Why say I could: what care I Hystorie?
Then shall we haue a tragedie indeed:
Pure purple Buskin, blood and murther right.

Trag.
Thus with your loose and idle similies,
You haue abusde me: but Ile whip you hence,
She whips them.
Ile scourge and lash you both from off the stage,
T'is you haue kept the Theatres so long,
Painted in play-bils, vpon euery poast,
That I am scorned of the multitude,
My name prophande: but now Ile raigne as Queene
In great Apollos name and all the Muses,
By vertue of whose Godhead I am sent,
I charge you to be gone and leaue this place.

Hyst.
Looke Comedie, I markt it not till now,
The stage is hung with blacke: and I perceiue
The Auditors preparde for Tragedie.

Com.
Nay then I see she shall be intertain'd,
These ornaments beseeme not thee and me,
Then Tragedie, kil them to day with sorrow,
Wee'l make them laugh with myrthfull ieasts to morrow.

Hyst.
And Tragedie although to day thou raigne,
To morrow here Ile domineere againe.

Exeunt.
Turning to the people.
Tra.
Are you both gone so soone? why then I see
All this faire circuite here is left to me:
All you spectators, turne your chearfull eie,
Giue intertainment vnto Tragedie,
My Sceane is London, natiue and your owne,
I sigh to thinke, my subiect too well knowne,
I am not faind: many now in this round,
Once to behold me in sad teares were drownd,
Yet what I am, I will not let you know,
Untill my next ensuing sceane shal show.

Enter Sanders, Anne Sand: Drurie, Browne, Roger and master Sand: seruant.
Sand.
Gentleman, here must we take our leaue,
Thanking you for your curteous companie,
And for your good discourse of Ireland,
Whereas it seemes you haue beene resident,
By your well noting the particulars.

Browne.
True sir, I haue beene there familiar,
And am no better knowne in London here,
Than I am there vnto the better sort,
Chiefely in Dublin where ye heard me say,
Are as great feasts as this we had to day.

Sand.
So haue I heard, the land giues good increase,
Of euerie blessing for the vse of man,
And t'is great pittie the inhabitants,
Will not be ciuil, nor liue vnder law.

Browne.
As ciuil in the English pale as here,
And lawes obeide, and orders duly kept,
And al the rest may one daie be reduced.

Sand.
God grant it so: I praie you whats your name?

Browne.
My name's George Browne.

Sand.
God be with ye good master Browne.

Browne.

Manie farewells master Sanders to your selfe,
and to these Gentlewomen: Ladies, God be with you.

Anne San.
God be with ye sir.

Dru.
Thanks for your companie,
I like your talk of Ireland so wel
That I could wish time had not cut it off,
I pray ye sir if ye come neere my house
Call, and you shal be welcome master Browne.

Browne.
I thanke ye mistris Drurie: is't not so?

Dru.
My name is Anne Drurie.

Sand.
Widow, come, will ye go?

Dru.
Ile waite vpon you sir.

Exeunt Sanders. A. San. makes a curtesie and departs, and all the rest sauing Roger, whom Browne calles.
Bro.
Hearke ye, my friend,
Are not you seruant vnto mistres Drurie?

Rog.
Yes indeed forsooth, for fault of a better,
I haue seru'd her (man and boy) this seuen yeeres.

Bro.
I pray thee do me a peece of fauour then,
And Ile requite it.

Rog.
Any thing I can.

Bro.
Entreate thy mistres when she takes her leaue,
Of maister Sanders and his wife, to make retire
Hither againe, for I will speake with her.
Wilt thou do't for me?

Rog.
Yea sir that I will.
Where shal she finde ye?

Bro.
Ile not stirre from hence:
Say I intreate her but a worde or two,
She shall not stay longer then likes her selfe.

Rog.
Nay sir for that as you two can agree,
Ile warrant you ile bring her to ye straight.
Exit Roger.

Bro.
Straight or crooked, I must needes speake with her,
For by this light my heart is not my owne,
But taken prisoner at this frolicke feast,
Intangled in a net of golden wiar,
Which loue had slily laid in her faire lookes.
O maister Sanders th'art a happie man,
To haue so sweet a creature to thy wife,
Whom I must winne, or I must lose my life,
But if she be as modest as she seemes,
Thy heart may breake George Browne ere thou obtaine.
This mistres Drurie must be made the meane,
What ere it cost to compasse my desire,
Enter Roger and Drurie.
And I hope wel, she doth so soone retire,
Good mistris Drurie pardon this bold part
That I haue plaid vpon so small acquaintance,
To send for you, let your good nature hide
The blame of my bad nurture for this once.

Dru.
I take it for a fauour master Browne,
And no offence, a man of your faire parts,
Wil send for me to steede him anie way.

Rog.

Sir, ye shall find my mistris as curteous a gentlewoman,
as any is in London, if ye haue occasion to vse
her.

—take her aside,
Bro.
So I presume friend, mistris by your leaue,
I would not that your man should heare our speech,
For it concernes me much it be conceald.

Dru.
I hope it is no treason you wil speake.

Bro.
No by my faith, nor felonie.

Dru.
Nay then, though my man Roger heare it, neuer care
If it be loue, or secrets due to that,
Roger is trustie I dare pawne my life,
As anie fellow within London walles,
But if you haue some secret maladie,
That craues my helpe, to vse my surgerie,
Which though I say't is preitie: he shall hence,
If not, be bold to speake, there's no offence.

Bro.
I haue no sore, but a new inward griefe,
Which by your phisicke may find some reliefe.

Dru.
What, is't a surfet?

Bro.
I, at this late feast.

Dru.
Why, Aqua cœlestis, or the water of balme,
Or Rosa solis, or that of Doctour Steeuens
Wil help a surfeit. Now I remember me,
Mistris Sanders hath a soueraigne thing,
To help a sodaine surfeit presently.

Bro.
I thinke she haue: how shal I compasse it?

Dru.
Ile send my man for some on't.

Bro.
Pray ye stay.
Sheele neuer send that which wil do me good.

Drewry
O say not so, for then ye know her not.

Browne
I would I did so well as I could wish

—aside.
Drewry
Shees euen as curteous a gentlewoman sir,
As kind a peate, as London can affoord:
Not send it quoth a? yes and bring't herselfe,
If neede require: a poore woman tother day,
Her water-bearers wife, had surfeted
With eating beanes (ye know tis windy meate)
And the poore creature's subiect to the stone:
She went her selfe, and gaue her but a dramme,
It holp her strait, in lesse than halfe an houre
She fell vnto her busines till she sweat,
And was as well as I am now.

Browne
But that which helps a woman helps not me.
A womans help will rather do me good.

Dru.
I faith I ha found you, are ye such one?
Well Maister Browne, I warrant, let you alone.

Browne
But Mistris Drewry, leaue me not yet alone,
For if ye do, I neuer shall alone
Obtaine the company that my soule desires:
Faith tell me one thing, can ye not do much
With Mistris Sanders, are you not inward with her?

Drewry
I dare presume to do as much with her,
As any woman in this cittie can.

Browne
Whats your opinion of her honesty?

Drewry
O very honest, very chaste yfaith,
I will not wrong her for a thousand pound.

Browne
Then all your physicke can not cure my wound

Drewry
Your wound is loue, is that your surffet sir?

Browne
Yea, and tis curelesse without helpe of her.

Drewry
I am very sorie that I cannot ease yee,

Browne
Well, if ye can, yfaith I will well please ye.

Drewry
You weare a pretty turkesse there me thinkes,
I would I had the fellow on't.

Browne
Take ye this,
Upon condition to effect my blisse.

Dru.
Pardon me that sir, no condition,
For that griefe I am no phisition,
How saist thou Roger, am I?

Ro.
Yea forsooth mistris, what? what did ye aske?

Dru.
This gentleman's in loue
With mistris Sanders, and would haue me speake
In his behalfe, how saist thou, dare I doo't,
And she so honest, wise and vertuous?

Bro.
What meane ye mistris Drurie to bewray,
Unto your man, what I in secret spake?

Dru.
Tush, feare not you, tis trustie Roger this,
I vse his counsell in as deepe affaires,
How saist thou Hodge?

Rog.

Mistris, this say I: though mistris Sanders be very
honest, as in my conscience she is, and her husband wise and
suttle, and in al Belinsgate-ward not a kinder couple, yet if
you wold wrong her husband your deere frind, me thinks ye
haue such a sweete tongue, as wil supple a stone, and for my
life, if ye lift to labour, youle win her. Sir sticke close to my
mistris, she is studying the law: and if ye be not straite laced
ye know my mind, sheele do it for ye, and ile play my part.

Bro.
Here Mi. Drurie this same ring is yours,
Giue her a Ring.
Wear't for my sake, and if ye do me good,
Command this chaine, this hand, and this heart bloud,
What say ye to me? speake a cheereful word.

Rog.
Faith mistris do, hee's a fine gentleman,
Pittie he should languish for a little loue.

Dru.
Yea but thou knowest they are both my friends,
Hee's very wise, she verie circumspect,
Uerie respectiue of her honest name.

Rog.
If ye list you can couer as great a blame.

Dru.
If I should breake it, and she take it il.

Rog.
Tut, you haue cunning, pray ye vse your skil:
To her master Browne.

Bro.
What say ye to me Ladie?

Dru.
This I say.
I can not make a man, to cast away
So goodly a creature as your selfe, were sinne:
Second my onset, for I wil begin
To breake the ice that you may passe the foorde,
Do your good wil, you shal haue my good word.

Bro.
But how shal I haue oportunitie?

Dru.
That must be watch'd, but verie secretly.

Bro.
How? at her house?

Dru.
There ye may not enter.

Bro.
How then?

Dru.
By some other fine aduenture,
Watch when her husband goes to the Exchange,
Shee'l sit at doore: to her though she be strange,
Spare not to speake, ye can but be denide,
Women loue most, by whom they are most tride,
My man shal watch, and I wil watch my turne,
I can not see so faire a Gallant mourne.

Bro.
Ye blesse my soule by shewing me the waie,
O mistris Drurie, if I do obtaine,
Do but imagine how ile quit your paine,
But where's her house?

Dru.
Against S. Dunstones church.

Bro.
S. Dunstones in Fleetestreete?

Dru.
No, neere Belinsgate,
S. Dunstones in the East, thats in the West,
Be bold to speake for I wil do my best.

Bro.
Thanks mistris Drurie, Roger drink you that,
And as I speede expect your recompence.

Rog.
I thanke ye sir, nay ile gage my hand,
Few women can my mistris force withstand.

Dru.
Sir, this is all ye haue to say?

Bro.
For this time mistris Drurie we wil part.
Winne mistris Sanders, and ye winne my heart.

Dru.
Hope you the best, she shal haue much adoe,
To hold her own when I begin to wooe: come Hodge.

Exit.
Rog.
I trust sir when my mistris has obtaind your sute,
You'le sute me in a cast sute of your apparell.

Browne.
Cast and vncast shal trustie Roger haue,
If thou be secret, and an honest knaue.

Exeunt omnes.
Enter Anne Sanders with her little sonne, and sit at her doore.
Boy.
Praie ye mother when shal we goe to supper?

Anne
Why, when your father comes from the Exchange,
Ye are not hungrie since ye came from schoole.

Boy.
Not hungrie (mother,) but I would faine eate.

Anne.
Forbeare a while vntil your father come,
I sit here to expect his quicke returne.

Boy.
Mother, shal not I haue new bow and shafts,
Against our schoole go a feasting?

Anne.
Yes if ye learn,
And against Easter new apparel too.

Boy.
Youle lend me al your scarfes, and al your rings,
And buy me a white feather for my veluet cappe,
Wil ye mother? yea say, praie ye say so.

Anne.
Goe pratling boy, go bid your sister see
My Closet lockt when she takes out the fruite.

Boy.
I wil forsooth, and take some for my paines.
Exit Boy

Anne.
Wel sir sauce, do's your master teach ye that?
I praie God blesse thee, thart a verie wagge.

Enter Browne.
Browne.
Yonder she sits to light this obscure streete,
Like a bright diamond worne in some darke place,
Or like the moone in a blacke winters night,
To comfort wandring trauellers in their waie,
But so demure, so modest are her lookes,
So chaste her eies, so vertuous her aspect,
As do repulse loues false Artilerie;
Yet must I speake though checkt with scornful nay,
Desire drawes on, but Reason bids me staie,
My Tutresse Drurie gaue me charge to speake:
And speake I must, or els my heart wil breake.
God saue ye mistris Sanders, al alone?
Sit ye to take the view of passengers?

Anne.
No in good sooth sir, I giue smal regard
Who comes, or goes, my husband I attend,
Whose comming wil be speedie from th' Exchange,

Bro.
A good exchange made he for single life,
That ioynde in marryage with so sweete a wife.

Anne.
Come ye to speake with maister Sanders sir?

Bro.
Why aske ye that?

Anne.
Because ye make a staie,
Here at his doore.

Bro.
I staie in curtesie,
To giue you thankes for your last companie,
I hope my kind salute doth not offend?

Anne.

No sir, and yet such vnexpected kindnesse,
is like herb Iohn in broth.

Bro.
I praie ye how's that?

Anne.
T'may euen as wel be laid aside as vsde,
If ye haue businesse with my husband sir,
Y'are welcome, otherwise Ile take my leaue.

Bro.
Nay gentle mistris, let not my accesse
Be meanes to driue you from your doore so soone:
I would be loath to preiudice your pleasure,
For my good liking at the feast conceiu'd,
If master Sanders shal haue cause to vse,
The fauour of some noble personage,
Let him imploie no other but George Browne,
T'effect his sute without a recompence,
I speake I know not what, my tongue and heart,
Are so diuided through the force of Loue.

—aside
Anne.
I thanke ye sir, but if he haue such cause,
I hope hees not so voide of friends in Court,
But he may speede and neuer trouble you,
Yet I wil do your errand if ye please.

Dro.
Euen as't please you: I doubt I trouble ye.

Anne
Resolue your doubt, and trouble me no more.

Bro.
Twil neuer be: I thought as much before.
God be with you Mistris.

Anne
Fare ye wel, good sir.

Bro.
Ile to Nan Drewry yet, and talke with her.

Exit.
Anne
These arrand-making Gallants are good men,
That cannot passe and see a woman sit
Of any sort, alone at any doore,
But they will find a scuse to stand and prate,
Fooles that they are to bite at euery baite.
Enter Sanders.
Here he comes now whom I haue lookte for long.

San.
How now sweet Nan, sitst thou here all alone?

Anne
Better alone, than haue bad company.

Sand.
I trust there's none but good resorts to thee.

Anne
There shall not sir, if I know what they be:
Ye haue staide late sir at th'Exchange to night.

Sand.
Upon occasion Nan, is supper ready?

Anne
An houre agoe.

Sanders
And what good company?
None to sup with vs? Send one for Nan Drewry,
Sheele play the wagge, tell tales, and make vs merrie.

Anne
I thinke sh'as supt, but one shall run and looke:
If your meate be marrde, blame your selfe, not the cooke.

Sand.
How ere it be, weele take it in good part
For once and vse it not, come, lets in sweet heart.

Exeunt.
Enter Anne Drewry, and Trusty Roger her man, to them Browne.
Dru.
Roger come hither, was there no messenger
This day from maister Browne to speake with me?

Roger
Mistris, not any, and that I maruell at:
But I can tell you, he must come and send,
And be no niggard of his purse beside,
Or else I know how it will go with him:
He must not thinke to anker where he hopes,
Unlesse you be his pylot.

Dru.
Where is that?
The fellow talkes and prates he knowes not what,
I be his pylot? whither? canst thou tell?
The cause he doth frequent my house thou seest,
Is for the loue he beares vnto my daughter.

Rog.
A verie good cloake mistres for the raine,
And therein I must needes commend your wit,
Close dealing is the safest: by that meanes
The world will be the lesse suspicious:
For whilest t'is thought he doth affect your daughter,
Who can suspect his loue to mistris Sanders?

Dru.
Why now thou art as I would haue thee be
Conceited, and of quicke capacitie,
Some heauie drawlatch would haue bin this moneth,
(Though hourlie I had instructed him)
Before he could haue found my policie.
But Hodge, thou art my hearts interpreter,
And be thou secret still, as thou hast beene,
And doubt not but weele all gaine by the match:
George Browne as thou knowest is well reckond of.
A proper man and hath good store of coine,
And mistres Sanders she is yong and faire,
And may be tempred easily like waxe.
Especially by one that is familiar with her.

Rog.
True mistres, nor is she the first by many,
That you haue wonne to stoope vnto the lewre,
It is your trade, your liuing, what needs more?
Driue you the bargain, I will keepe the doore.

Dru.
Trustie Roger, thou wel deseruest thy name,

Rog,
But mistris, shal I tell you what I thinke?

Dru.
Yes Hodge, what ist?

Rog.
If you'le be ruld by me,
Let them pay well for what you vndertake:
Be not a spokeswoman mistres for none of them,
But be the better for it: times will change,
And there's no trusting to vncertainties.

Dru.
Dost thinke I will? then beg me for a foole,
The mony I will finger twixt them twaine
Shall make my daughter such a dowrie,
As I will match her better then with Browne,
To some rich Atturney, or Gentleman:
Let me alone, if they inioy their pleasure,
My sweete shalbe to feede vpon their treasure.

Rog.
Hold you there mistres: here comes mast. Browne.

Bro.
Good morrow mistres Drurie.

Enter Browne.
Dru.
What maister Browne,
Now by my faith you are the very last man
We talkt of: y'are welcome sir, how do you?
And how speede you concerning that you wot of?

Roger
Miistes, ile voyd the place, if so you please.
And giue you leaue in priuate to conferre.

Browne
Whither goes Roger? call him backe againe.

Dru.
Come hither sirra, M. Browne will haue you stay.

Bro.
Why how now Roger? wil you shrinke from me?
Because I saw you not, do you suppose
I make no reckoning of your company.
What man? thy trust is it I build vpon.

Roger
I thanke you sir: nay pray you be not offended,
I would be loath to seeme vnmannerly.

Bro.
Tut a figs end: thy councell will do well,
And we must vse thee, therefore tarry here,
I haue no other secret to reueale,
But onely this, that I haue broke the ice,
And made an entrance to my loues pursute:
Sweete mistris Sanders that choice argument
Of all perfection, sitting at her doore
Euen now I did salute: some words there past,
But nothing to the purpose, neither time,
Nor place consorted to my minde: beside,
Recourse of seruants, and of passengers
Might haue beene iealous of our conference:
And therefore I refraind all large discourse,
Only thus much I gatherd by her speech,
That she is affable, not coy, nor scornfull,
And may be wunne, would you but be intreated
To be a mediator for me, and perswade her.

Rog.
I pray you do so mistres, you do know
That maister Brown's an honest gentleman,
And I dare sweare will recompence you well.

Bro.
If she doe mistrust me, there's my purse,
And in the same ten angels of good gold,
And when I can but haue accesse to her,
And am in any possibilitie
To winne her fauour, chalenge of me more,
A hundred pound in marriage with your daughter.

Dru.
Alas how dare I master Browne? her husband
Is one that I am much beholding to,
A man both louing, bountifull and iust,
And to his wife, in all this cittie, none
More kinde, more loyall harted, or more firme,
What sinne were it to doe him then that wrong?

Bro.
Oh speake not of his worth, but of her praise,
If he be firme, shees faire, if he bountifull,
Shees beautifull, if he loyall, shees louely,
If he, in all the Cittie for a man
Be the most absolute; she, in all the world
Is for a woman the most excellent:
Oh earth hath seldome such a creature seene:
Nor subiect bin possest with such a loue.

Rog.
Mistris, can you heare this, and not be mou'de?
I would it lay in me to helpe you sir,
Ifaith you should not need so many words.

Bro.
I know that, thou hast alwayes beene my friend,
And though I neuer see Anne Sanders more,
Yet for my sake drinke this: and mistres Drewrie,
England I must be forst to bid farewell,
Or shortly looke to heare that I am dead,
Unlesse I may preuaile to get her loue.

Rog.
Good mistres leaue your dumps, and speake to him.
You need not studie so, t'is no such labour:
Alas, wil you see a gentleman cast away?
All is but George, I pray you let be done.

Dru.
Well maister Browne, not for your monies sake
So much, as in regard I loue you well,
Am I content to be your Orator,
Mistres Sanders shall be certified,
How feruently you loue her, and withal,
Some other words Ile vse in your behalfe,
As you shal haue accesse to her at least.

Bro.
I aske no more, when will you vndertake it?

Dru.
This day, it shall no longer be deferd.
And in the euening you shal know an answere.

Bro.
Here at your house?

Dru.
Yea here if so you please.

Bro.
No better place, I rest vpon your promise:
So fare well mistresse Drurie till that houre,
What sweet can earth affoord will not seeme sowre.

Dru.
Hee's sped yfayth: come Roger let vs go,
Ill is the wind doth no man profite blow.

Rog.
I shall not be the woorse for it, that I know.

Exeunt.
Enter maister Sanders and his man.
San.
Sirra, what bils of debt are due to me?

Man.
All that were due sir as this day, are paid.

San.
You haue inough then to discharge the bond
Of maister Ashmores fifteene hundred pound,
That must be tendred on the Exchange to night?

Man.
With that which maister Bishop owes, we haue.

San.
When is his time to pay?

Man.
This after noone.

San.
Hee's a sure man, thou needst not doubt of him.
In any case take heed vnto my credite,
I doe not vse (thou knowest) to breake my worde,
Much lesse my bond: I pre thee looke vnto it,
And when as master Bishop sends his money,
Bring the whole summe: ile be vpon the Burse,
Or if I be not, thou canst take a quittance.

Man.
What shall I say vnto my mistres, sir?
She bade me tell out thirtie pounds euen now,
She meant to haue bestowed in linnen cloath.

San.
She must deferre her market till to morrow,
I know no other shift: my great affaires
Must not be hindred by such trifling wares.

Man.
She told me sir the Draper would be here,
And George the Milliner with other things,
Which she appointed should be brought her home.

San.
All's one for that, another time shall serue,
Nor is there any such necessitie,
But she may verie well forbeare a while.

Man.
She will not so be answered at my hand.

San.
Tell her I did command it should be so.

Exit.
Man.
Your pleasure shalbe done sir, though thereby
Tis I am like to beare the blame away.

Enter Anne Sanders, mistres Drurie, a Draper and a Miliner.
Anne.

Come neare I pray you, I doe like your linnen,
and you shall haue your price: but you my friend, the gloues
you shewed me, and the Italian purse are both well made.
and I doe like the fashion, but trust me, the perfume I am
afraide will not continue, yet vpon your worde ile haue
them too. Sirra where is your Maister?

Man.

Forsooth hees gone to th'Exchange euen now.

Anne.

Haue you the mony ready which I cald for?

Man.

No, if it please you, my master gaue me charge I
should deliuer none.

Anne.
Howes that sir knaue?
Your master chargd you should deliuer none?
Go to, dispatch and fetch me thirtie pound,
Or I wil send my fingers to your lips.

Drewry
Good fortune, thus incenst against her husband,
I shal the better breake with her for Browne.

—aside.
Man
I praie you mistris pacifie your selfe,
I dare not do it.

Anne.
You dare not, and why so?

Man.
Because there's money to be paide to night,
Upon an obligation.

Anne.
What of that?
Therefore I may not haue to serue my turne,

Man
In deede forsooth there is not in the house,
As yet sufficient to discharge that debt.

Anne.
Tis wel that I must stand at your reuersion,
Intreat my prentise, curtesie to my man:
And he must be purse-bearer, when I neede,
This was not wont to be your masters order.

Drewry
No, Ile be sworne of that: I neuer knew,
But that you had at al times mistris Sanders,
A greater summe than that at a command,
Mary perhaps the world may now be chang'd.

Man.
Feede not my mistris anger, mistris Drewry,
You do not well: to morrow if she list,
It is not twice so much but she may haue it.

Anne.
So that my breach of credite, in the while
Is not regarded: I haue brought these men,
To haue their mony for such necessaries,
As I haue bought, and they haue honestly
Deliuered to my hands, and now forsooth,
I must be thought so bare and beggarly,
As they must be put of vntil to morrow.

1
Good mistris Sanders trouble not your selfe,
If that be all, your word shalbe sufficient,
Were it for thrice the value of my ware.

2
And trust me mistris you shal do me wrong,
If otherwise you do conceit of me,
Be it for a weeke, a fortnight, or a month,
Or when you wil, I neuer would desire
Better securitie for all I am worth.

Anne.
I thanke you for your gentlenes my friends,
But I haue neuer vsde to goe on credite.
There is two crownes betwixt you for your paines,
Sirra, deliuer them their stuffe againe,
And make them drinke a cup of wine, farewell,

1
Good mistris Sanders let me leaue the cloth,
I shal be chidden when I doe come home.

2
And I, therefore I pray you be perswaded.

Anne.
No no, I wil excuse you to your maisters.
Exeunt.
So if you loue me vse no more intreatie.
I am a woman, and in that respect,
Am well content my husband shal controule me,
But that my man should ouer-awe me too,
And in the sight of strangers, mistris Drurie:
I tell you true, do's grieue me to the heart.

Dru.
Your husband was too blame, to say the troth,
That gaue his seruant such authoritie,
What signifies it but he doth repose
More trust in a vilde boy, than in his wife?

Anne.
Nay, giue me leaue to thinke the best of him,
It was my destinie and not his malice,
Sure I did know as wel when I did rise
This morning, that I should be chast ere noone,
As where I stand.

Dru.
By what, good mistris Sanders?

An.
Why by these yellow spots vpon my fingers,
They neuer come to me, but I am sure
To heare of anger ere I goe to bed.

Dru.
Tis like enough, I pray you let me see,
Good sooth they are as manifest as day,
And let me tel you too, I see disciphered,
Within this palme of yours, to quite that euil,
Faire signes of better fortune to ensue,
Cheere vp your heart, you shortly shalbe free
From al your troubles. See you this character
Directly fixed to the line of life?
It signifies a dissolution,
You must be (mistris Anne) a widdow shortly.

Anne.
No, God forbid, I hope you do but iest.

Dru.
It is most certaine, you must burie George.

Anne.
Haue you such knowledge then in palmestrie?

Dru.
More then in surgerie, though I do make
That my profession, this is my best liuing,
And where I cure one sicknesse or disease,
I tell a hundred fortunes in a yeere.
What makes my house so haunted as it is,
With merchants wiues, bachlers and yong maides,
But for my matchlesse skil in palmestrie?
Lend me your hand againe, ile tel you more.
A widow said I? yea, and make a change,
Not for the worse, but for the better farre:
A gentleman (my girle) must be the next,
A gallant fellow, one that is belou'd
Of great estates, tis playnely figurd here,
And this is calld the Ladder of Promotion.

Anne.
I do not wish to be promoted so,
My George is gentle, and belou'd beside,
And I haue euen as good a husband of him,
As anie wench in London hath beside,

Dru.
True, he is good, but not too good for God,
Hee's kind, but can his loue dispence with death,
Hee's wealthie, and an hansome man beside,
But wil his graue be satisfied with that?
He keeps you wel, who saies the contrary?
Yet better's better. Now you are araide
After a ciuill manner, but the next
Shall keepe you in your hood, and gowne of silke,
And when you stirre abroade, ride in your coach,
And haue your dozen men all in a liuerie
To waite vpon you: this is somewhat like:

Anne.
Yet had I rather be as now I am,
If God were pleased that it should be so,

Dru.
I marrie now you speake like a good christian,
If God were pleased: O but he hath decreed
It shalbe otherwise, and to repine
Against his prouidence you know tis sinne.

An.
Your words do make me think I know not what,
And burden me with feare as wel as doubt.

Dru.
Tut, I could tel ye for a neede, his name,
That is ordaind to be your next husband,
But for a testimonie of my former speeches,
Let it suffice I find it in your hand,
That you already are acquainted with him,
And let me see, this crooked line deriude
From your ring finger shewes me, not long since
You had some speech with him in the streete,
Or neere about your doore I am sure it was.

Anne.
I know of none more than that gentleman,
That supt with vs, they cal him captaine Browne,
And he I must confesse against my wil,
Came to my doore as I was sitting there,
And vsde some idle chat might a beene sparde
And more I wis than I had pleasure in,

Dru.
I cannot tel, if captaine Browne it were,
Then captaine Browne is he must marrie you.
His name is George I take it: yea tis so,
My rules of palmestrie declare no lesse,

An.
Tis verie strange how ye should know so much,

Dru.
Nay I can make rehearsal of the words,
Did passe betwixt you if I were disposde,
Yet I protest I neuer saw the man,
Since, nor before the night he supt with vs,
Briefly, it is your fortune mistris Sanders,
And there's no remedie but you must leaue him,
I counsel you to no immodestie
Tis lawful, one deceast to take an other.
In the meane space I would not haue you coy,
But if he come vnto your house, or so,
To vse him courteously, as one for whom
You were created in your birth a wife.

Anne.
If it be so, I must submit my selfe,
To that which God and destenie sets downe:
But yet I can assure you mistres Drurie,
I do not find me any way inclinde
To change off new affection, nor God willing
Will I be false to Sanders whilest I liue.
By this time hees returnd from th'Exchange,
Come, you shal sup with vs.

Exit.
Dru.
Ile folow you.
Why this is wel, I neuer could haue found
A fitter way to compasse Brownes desire,
Nor in her womans breast kindled loues fire.
For this will hammer so within her head,
As for the new, sheele wish the old were dead,
When in the necke of this I will deuise
Some stratageme to close vp Sanders eies.

Enter Tragedie with a bowle of bloud in her hand.
Tra.
Til now you haue but sitten to behold,
The fatal entrance to our bloudie sceane,
And by gradations seene how we haue growne
Into the maine streame of our tragedie:
Al we haue done, hath only beene in words,
But now we come vnto the dismall act,
And in these sable Curtains shut we vp,
The Comicke entrance to our direful play,
This deadly banquet is preparde at hand,
Where Ebon tapers are brought vp from hel,
To leade blacke murther to this damned deed,
The vgly Screechowle, and the night Rauen,
With flaggy wings and hideous croking noise.
Do beate the casements of this fatal house,
Whilst I do bring my dreadful furies forth,
To spread the table to this bloudy feast.
They come to couer.
The while they couer.
Come forth and couer, for the time drawes on,
Dispatch, I say, for now I must imploy ye
To be the vshers to this damned traine.
Bring forth the banquet, and that lustfull wine,
Which in pale mazors made of dead mens sculles,
They shall carowse to their destruction:
By this thei're entred to this fatall doore,
Harke how the gastly fearefull chimes of night
Do ring them in: and with a dolefull peale
Here some strange solemne musike like belles is heard within.
Do fill the roofe with sounds of tragedie:
Dispatch, I say, and be their Ushers in.
The Furies goe to the doore and meete them: first the Furies enter before leading them, dauncing a soft daunce to the solemne musicke: next comes Lust before Browne, leading mistris Sanders couered with a blacke vaile: Chastitie all in white, pulling her backe softly by the arme: then Drewry, thrusting away Chastitie, Roger following: they march about, and then sit to the table: the Furies fill wine, Lust drinckes to Browne, he to Mistris Sanders, shee pledgeth him: Lust imbraceth her, she thrusteth Chastity from her, Chastity wrings her hands, and departs: Drury and Roger imbrace one an other: the Furies leape and imbrace one another.
Whilst they sit downe, Tragedie speakes.
Here is the Maske vnto this damned murther,
The Furies first, the diuell leades the daunce:
Next, lawlesse Lust conducteth cruell Browne,
He doth seduce this poore deluded soule,
Attended by vnspotted Innocence,
As yet vnguiltie of her husbands death.
Next followes on that instrument of hell
That wicked Drurie, the accursed fiend,
That thrusts her forward to destruction,
And last of al is Roger, Druries man,
A villaine expert in all trecherie,
One conuersant in al her damned drifts,
And a base broker in this murderous act.
Here they prepare them to these lustful feasts,
And here they sitte all wicked murthers guests.
Tragedie standing to beholde them a while, till the shew be done, againe turning to the people.
Thus sinne preuailes, she drinkes that poysoned draught,
With which base thoughts henceforth infects her soule,
And wins her free consent to this foule deed,
Now bloud and Lust, doth conquer and subdue,
And Chastitie is quite abandoned:
Here enters Murther into al their hearts,
And doth possesse them with the hellish thirst
Of guiltlesse blood: now wil I wake my chime
And lay this charming rod vpon their eyes,
To make them sleepe in their securitie.
They sleepe.
Thus sittes this poore soule, innocent of late,
Amongst these diuels at this damned feast,
Wunne and betraid to their detested sinne,
And thus with blood their hands shalbe imbru'de,

Murther
settes downe her blood, and rubbes their hands.
To Browne
Thy hands shal both be touch'd, for they alone
Are the foule actors of this impious deed:
To Drewry and Roger.
And thine: and thine: for thou didst lay the plot,
And thou didst worke this damned witch deuise,
Your hands are both as deepe in blood as his.
To Anne.
Only thou diptst a finger in the same,
And here it is: Awake now when you will,
For now is the time wherein to worke your ill.
Here Browne starts vp: drawes his sword, and runnes out.
Thus he is gone whilest they are all secure,
Resolu'd to put these desperate thoughts in vre,
They follow him: and them wil I attend,
Untill I bring them all vnto their end.

Enter Sanders, and one or two with him.
San.
You see sir still I am a dayly guest,
But with so true friends as I hold your selfe,
I had rather be too rude, then too precise.

Gent.
Sir this house is yours: you come but to your owne,
And what else I cal mine, is wholy yours,
So much I do endeere your loue sweet master Sanders,
A light ho, there.

San.
Wel sir at this time ile rather be vnmanerly then ceremonious,
Ile leaue you sir to recommend my thanks,
Unto your kind respectiue wife.

Gent.
Sir for your kind pacience, shee's much beholding to you
And I beseech you remember me to mistris Sanders.

San.
Sir I thanke you for hir.

Gent.
Sirra, ho, whose within there?

Prentice.
Sir.

Gen.
Light a Torch there, and wait on M. Sanders home.

San.
It shall not need sir, it is light enough.
Let it alone.

Gent.
Nay, I pray ye sir.

Sanders
Yfaith sir at this time it shall not neede,
Tis very light, the streetes are ful of people,
And I haue some occasion by the way that may detaine me.

Gent.
Sir, I am sorie, that you go alone, tis somwhat late,

Sanders
Tis wel sir, God send you happie rest.

Gent.
God blesse you sir: passion of me, I had forgot one thing,
I am glad I thought of it before we parted:
Your patience sir a little.

Here enters Browne speaking, in casting one side of his cloake vnder his arme. While master Sanders and he are in busie talke one to the other, Browne steps to a corner.
Browne
This way he should come, and a fitter place,
The towne affoordes not, tis his neerest waie,
And tis so late, he wil not goe about,
Then stand close George, and with a luckie arme,
Sluce out his life, the hindrer of thy loue:
Oh sable night, sit on the eie of heauen,
That it discerne not this blacke deede of darknesse,
My guiltie soule, burnt with lusts hateful fire,
Must wade through bloud, t'obtaine my vile desire,
Be then my couerture, thicke vgly night,
The light hates me, and I doe hate the light,

Sanders
Good night sir.

Gent.
Good night good master Sanders.
Sir I shal see you on the Exchange to morrow.

Sanders.
You shal God, willing Sir: good night.

Browne
I heare him comming faire vnto my stand,
Murther and death sit on my fatal hand.

Enters a Gentleman with a man with a torch before, Browne drawes to strike.
Gent.
Whose there?

Sanders.
A friend.

Gent.
Master Sanders? wel met.

Sand.
Good euen gentle sir, so are you.

Gent.
Where haue you beene so late sir?

Bro.
A plague vpon't, a light and companie,
Euen as I was about to do the deede.
Browne aside.
See how the diuell stumbles in the nicke.

Sand.
Sir, here at a friends of mine in Lumberd streete
At supper: where I promise you,
Our cheere and entertainement was so great,
That we haue past our hower:
Beleeue me sir the euening's stolne away,
I see tis later then I tooke it for.

Gent.
Sirra turne there at the corner since tis late,
I wil go home with master Sanders.

Sand.
No, I praie you sir trouble not your selfe,
Sir I beseech you.

Gent.
Sir pardon me, sirra go on now where we are,
My waie lies iust with yours.

Sand.
I am beholding to you.

Exeunt.
Browne commeth out alone.
Bro.
Except by miracle, thou art deliuered as was neuer man,
My sword vnsheathd, and with the piercing steele,
Ready to broch his bosome, and my purpose
Thwarted by some malignant enuious starre.
Night I could stabbe thee, I could stabbe my selfe,
I am so mad that he scaped my hands.
How like a fatal Comet did that light,
With this portentious vision fright mine eies?
A maske of diuels, walke along with thee,
And thou the torch bearer vnto them all,
Thou fatal Brand nere maist thou be extinct,
Til thou hast set that damned house on fire,
Where he is lodgde that brought thee to this place.
Sanders this hand doth hold that death alone,
And beares the seale of thy destruction:
Some other time shall serue till thou be dead,
My fortunes yet are nere accomplished.

Exit.
Enter Maister Barnes and Iohn Beane his man.
Iohn Beane.
Must I go first to Greenewich sir?

Barnes.
What els?

Beane.
I cannot go by water, for it ebbes,
The wind's at west, and both are strong against vs.

Barnes.
My meaning is that you shal go by land,
And come by water, though the tide be late,
Faile not to be at home againe this night,
With answere of those letters which ye haue.
This letter giue to maister Cofferer,
If he be not at court when ye come there,
Leau't at his chamber in any case,
Pray maister Sanders to be here next weeke,
About the matter at S. Marie Cray.

Beane.
Me thinkes sir vnder your correction,
Next weeke is ill appointed.

Barnes.
Why, I pray ye?

Beane.
T'is Easter weeke, and euery holiday,
Are sermons at the Spittle.

Bar.
What of that?

Beane.
Can maister Sanders then be sparde to come?

Bar.
Wel said Iohn foole, I hope at afternoone
A paire of Oares may bring him downe to Wolwich,
Tel him he must come downe in any wise.

Beane.
What shal I bring from London?

Bar.
A fooles head.

Beane.
A calfes head's better meate,
Tis Maundie thursdaie sir, and euery butcher,
Now keepes open shoppe.

Barns.
Wel get ye gone, and hie ye home, how now?
Beane stumbles twice.
What art thou drunke, canst thou not stand?

Beane.
Yes sir, I did but stumble, God send me good lucke
I was not wont to stumble on plaine ground.

Barnes.
Looke better to your feete then.
Exit Barnes.

Bea.
Yes forsooth: and yet I do not like it at my setting forth
They say it doe's betoken some mischance:
I feare not drowning if the boate be good,
There is no danger in so short a cut,
Betwixt Blacke wall and Wolwich is the worst,
And if the watermen wil watch the Anchors,
Ile watch the catches and the hoyes my selfe,
Well I must go: Christs crosse, God be my speede.
Enter olde Iohn, and Ioane his maide.
Who comes there a Gods name? this wooddy way
Doth harbour many a false knaue they say.

Old Iohn.

False knaues, ha? where be they? let me see
them, mas as old as I am, and haue little skil, Ile hamper
a false knaue yet in my hedging bill: stand theefe or true man.

Ioane.
Master it is Iohn Beane.

Iohn.
Iesu Iohn Beane, why whither away by land?
What make you wandring this wooddie way?
Walke ye to Greenewich, or walke ye to Cray?

Bean.

To Greenwich father Iohn, good morow, good morow
Good morrow Ioane, good morrow sweete to thee.

Ioane.

A thousand good morrowes gentle Iohn Beane. I
am glad I met ye for now I haue my dreame, I haue been so
troubled with ye al this night, that I could not rest for sleeping
and dreaming: me thought you were growne taller and fairer,
and that ye were in your shirt, and me thought it should
not be you, and yet it was you; and that ye were al in white,
and went into a garden, and there was the vmberst sorte of
flowers that euer I see: and me thought you lay downe vpon
a greene banke, and I pinned gilliflowers in your ruffe, and
than me thought your nose bled, and as I ran to my chest to
fetch ye a handkercher, me thoght I stumbled and so waked:
what do's it betoken?

Beane.

Nay, I cannot tell, but I like neither thy

dreame nor my owne, for I was troubled with greene Medowes,
and buls fighting and goring one another, and one of
them me thought ran at me, and I ran away, that I swet in
my sleepe for feare.

Old Iohn.

Tut, feare nothing Iohn Beane, dreames are
but fancies: I dreamed my selfe last night, that I heard the
bels of Barking as plaine to our towne of Wolwich, as if I
had liue in the steeple. And that I should be married, and to
whom trowest thou? but to the fine gentlwoman of London
that was at your masters the last summer?

Beane.

Who? mistres Sanders? I shall see her anon, for
I haue an errand to her husband: shal I tell her ye dreamed
of her?

Old Iohn.

Gods forbod, no sheele laugh at me, and call
me old foole. Art thou going to London?

Beane.

Yea when I haue bin at the Court at Greenwich:
whither go you and your maid Ioane?

Old Iohn.

To stop a gap in my sence, and to driue home
a Cowe and a Calfe that is in my close, at Shooters hill
foote.

Beane.

T'is well done, Mas I am merry since I met you
two, I would your iourney lay along with mine.

Ioane.

So would I with all my heart. Iohn, pray ye bestowe
a groate or sixe pence of Carnation Ribbin to tie my
smocke sleeues, they flappe about my handes too bad, and Ile
giue you your mony againe.

Beane.

That I will yfayth: will you haue nothing, father
Iohn?

Old Iohn.

No God-amercie sonne Iohn, but I woulde
thou hadst my Aqua vitæ bottle, to fill at the blacke Bull by
Battell bridge.

Beane.

So would I: wel, here our wayes part, you must
that way, and I this.

Old Iohn.

Why, Iohn Beane, canst part with thy loue
without a kisse?

Beane.

Ye say true father Iohn, my busines puts kissing

out of my mind, farewel sweete Ioane.

Kisse Ioane.
Ioane.

Farewel sweet Iohn, I pray ye haue a care of your
selfe for my dreame, and blesse ye out of swaggerers companie,
and walke not too late, my master and I wil pray for
ye.

Old Iohn.

That we will yfaith Iohn Beane.

Beane

God be with ye both: I could e'ne weepe to see how
kind they are vnto me, theres a wench, wel, if I liue ile make
her amends.

Exeunt.
Enter Browne and Drury.
Bro.
Nay speak your conscience, wast not strange fortune
That at the instant when my sword was drawne,
And I had thought to haue naild him to a post,
A light should come, and so preuent my purpose?

Dru.
It was so master Browne: but let it passe,
Another time shall serue, neuer giue ore
Till you haue quite remou'd him out your way.

Bro.
And if I do, let me be held a coward,
And no more worthy to obtaine her bed,
Than a foule Negro to imbrace a Queene.

Dru.
You neede not quaile for doubt of your reward,
You know already she is wonne to this,
What by my perswasion, and your owne suite,
That you may haue her company when you will,
And she herselfe is throughly resolu'd,
None but George Browne must be her second husband.

Bro.
The hope of that makes me a nights to dreame
Of nothing but the death of wretched Sanders,
Which I haue vow'd in secret to my soule
Shall not be long before that be determin'd.
But I doe maruel that our skowt returnes not,
Trusty Roger whom we sent to dogge him.

Dru.
The knaue's so carefull (maister Browne) of you,
As he will rather die than come againe,
Before he finde fit place to do the deede.

Bro.
I am beholding both to you and him,
And mistris Drewry, Ile requite your loues.

Enter Rog.
Dru.
By the masse see where the whorson comes
Puffing and blowing, almost out of breath.

Bro.
Roger how now, where hast thou beene al day?

Ro.
Where haue I beene? where I haue had a iaunt,
Able to tyre a horse.

Bro.
But doest thou bring
Any good newes where I may strike the stroke,
Shall make thy selfe and me amends for al?

Rog.
That gather by the circumstance: first know,
That in the morning, til twas nine a clocke,
I watcht at Sanders doore til he came forth,
Then folowed him to Cornhil, where he staied
An hower talking in a marchants warehouse,
From thence he went directly to the Burse,
And there he walkt another hower at least,
And I at s heeles. By this it strooke eleuen,
Home then he comes to dinner, by the way
He chanced to meet a gentleman of the court,
With whom as he was talking, I drew neere,
And at his parting from him heard him say,
That in the after noone without al faile,
He would be with him at the court: this done
I watcht him at his doore til he had din'd,
Followed him to Lion key, saw him take boate,
And in a paire of Oares, as soone as he
Landed at Greenewitch, where euer since,
I trac'd him too and fro, with no lesse care
Than I had done before, til at the last
I heard him cal vnto a water man,
And bade he shoulde be ready, for by sixe
He meant to be at London backe againe.
With that away came I to giue you notice,
That as he landes at Lion key this euening,
You might dispatch him and escape vnseene.

Bro.
Hodge, Thou hast won my hart by this daies work

Dru.
Beshrew me, but he hath taken mighty paines.

Bro.
Roger come hither, there's for thee to drinke,
And one day I will do thee greater good.

Ro.
I thanke you sir, Hodge is at your commaund.

Browne
Now mistris Drury, if you please, go home,
Tis much vpon the houre of his returne.

Ro.
Nay, I am sure he wil be here straitway.

Dru.
Well, I will leaue you, for tis somewhat late.
God speed your hand, and so maister Browne good night.

Roger
Mistris I pray you spare me for this once,
Ile be so bold as stay with Maister Browne.

Dru.
Doe: and maister Browne, if you preuaile,
Come to my house, ile haue a bed for you.

Exit.
Browne
You shall haue knowledge if I chance to speede,
But ile not lodge in London for a while,
Untill the rumour shalbe somewhat past:
Come Roger, where ist best to take our standing?

Roger
Mary at this corner, in my minde.

Browne
I like it well, tis darke and somewhat close,
By reason that the houses stand so neare:
Beside, if he should land at Billingsgate,
Yet are we still betwixt his house and him.

Roger
You say well Maister Browne, tis so indeede.

Browne
Peace then, no more words for being spyed.

Enter Anne Sanders, and Iohn Beane.
Anne
I maruell Iohn thou sawst him not at court,
He hath beene there euer since one a clocke.

Iohn
Indeede mistris Sanders I heard not of him.

An.
Pray God that captain Browne hath not bin mou'd
By some ill motion, to indanger him,
—aside
I greatly feare it, hee's so long away:
But tell me Iohn, must thou needes home to night?

Iohn
Yes of necessitie, for so my Maister bade.

Anne
If it be possible, I pre thee stay
Untill my husband come.

Iohn
I dare not, trust me,
And I doubt that I haue lost my tide already.

Anne
Nay thats not so: come, ile bring thee to the key,
I hope we shall meet my husband by the way.

Ro.
That should be mistris Sanders by her tongue.

Browne
It is my loue, Oh how the dusky night
Is by her comming forth made sheene and bright:
Ile know of her why shee's abroad so late.

Ro.
Take heed master Browne, see where Sanders comes.

Bro.
A plague vpon't, now am I preuented,
She being by, how can I murther him?

Enter Sanders
San.
Your fares but eighteene pence, here's half a crown

Waterman
I thank your worship, God giue ye good night

San.
Good night with al my heart.

Anne
Oh here he is now:
Husband, y'are welcome home: now Iesu man
That you will be so late vpon the water?

San.
My busines, sweet heart, was such I could not chuse

An.
Here's M. Barnses man hath staid al day to speak wt you.

San.
Iohn Beane, welcome, how ist?
How doth thy master, and al our friends at Wolwich?

Iohn
All in good health (sir) when I came thence.

San.
And what's the news, Iohn Beane?

Iohn

My Maister (sir) requests you, that vpon tuesday
next you would take the paines to come downe to Wolwich,
about the matter you wot of.

San.

Wel Iohn, to morrow thou shalt know my minde.

Iohn

Nay sir, I must to Wolwich by this tide.

San.

What to night? there is no such haste, I hope.

Iohn

Yes truely (with your pardon) it must be so.

San.

Well then, if Iohn you will be gone, commend me
to your Maister, and tell him, without faile on tuesday sometime
of the day Ile see him, and so good night.

Anne
Commend me likewise to thy master Iohn.

Iohn
I thanke you mistris Sanders for my cheere,
Your commendations shalbe deliuered.

Exit.
Bro.
I would thy selfe and he were both sent hence
To doe a message to the diuel of hell,
For interrupting this my solemne vow,
But questionlesse some powre or else praier
Of some religious friend or other guardes him,
Or else my sword's vnfortunate, tis so,
This mettall was not made to kil a man.

Rog:
Good master Browne fret not your selfe so much,
Haue you forgot what the old prouerbe is,
The third time payes for all? Did you not heare,
That he sent word to master Barnes of Woolwich,
He would be with him as on tewsday next:
Twixt that and then lie you in waite for him
And though he haue escapt your hand so oft,
You may be sure to pay him home at last.

Bro.
Furie had almost made me past my selfe,
Tis wel remembred: Hodge, it so shalbe,
Some place wil I picke out as he does passe,
Either in going or in comming backe,
To end his hateful life: come lets away,
And at thy mistres house weele spend this night,
In consultation how it may be wrought.

Exeunt.
Trag.
The Musicke playing, enters Lust bringing forth Browne and Roger, at one ende mistres Sanders and mistres Drurie at the other, they offering cheerefully to meete and embrace, suddenly riseth vp a great tree betweene them, whereat amazedly they step backe, wherupon Lust bringeth an axe to mistres Sanders, shewing signes, that she should cut it downe, which she refuseth, albeit mistres Drurie offers to helpe her. Then Lust brings the Axe to Browne, and shews the like signes to him as before, wherupon he roughlie and suddenly hewes downe the tree, and then they run togither and embrace. With that enters Chastitie, with her haire disheueled, and taking mistres Sanders by the hand, brings her to her husbands picture hanging on the wall, and pointing to the tree, seemes to tell her, that that is the tree so rashly cut downe. Whereupon she wringing her hands, in teares departes, Browne, Drurie, Roger and Lust, whispering, he drawes his sword, and Roger followes him. Tragedie expressing that now he goes to act the deed.

Enter Browne reading a Letter, and Roger.
Bro.
Did I but wauer, or were vnresolu'd,
These lines were able to encourage me,
Sweete Nan I kist thy name, and for thy sake,
What coward would not venture more then this?
Kil him? Yea, were his life ten thousand liues,
Not any sparke or cynder of the same
Should be vnquencht in bloud at thy request.
Roger thou art assurde heele come this way.

Rog.
Assurde sir? why I heard him say so:
For hauing lodg'd at Wolwich, al last night,
As soone as day appeard, I got me vp,
And watcht aloofe at maister Barnses doore,
Til he and master Sanders both came forth.

Bro.
Til both came forth? what are they both togither?

Rog.
No sir, master Barnes himselfe went backe againe,
And left his man to beare him companie,
Iohn Beane: you know him, he that was at London
When we laid wait for him at Billingsgate.

Bro.
Is it that stripling? wel, no more adoe,
Roger go thou vnto the hedge corner
At the hill foote: there stand and cast thine eie
Toward Greenwich parke, see if black heath be cleare,
Least by some passenger we be descride.

Roger.
Shal ye not neede my help sir? they are twaine,

Brown.
No, were they ten, mine arme is strong enough,
Euen of it selfe to buckle with them al,
And ere George Sanders shal escape me now,
I wil not recke what massacre I make,

Rrog.
Wel sir, Ile go and watch, and when I see
Any body comming, Ile whistle to you.

Bro.
Do so I pre thee: I would be alone,
My thoughts are studious and vnsociable,
And so's my body, till this deede be done.
But let me see, what time a day ist now?
It cannot be imagin'd by the sunne,
For why I haue not seene it shine to daie,
Yet as I gather by my comming forth,
Being then sixe, it cannot now be lesse
Than halfe an hower past seuen: the aire is gloomie,
No matter, darknesse best fittes my intent,
Here wil I walke, and after shrowd my selfe
Within those bushes when I see them come.

Enter maister Sanders and Iohn Beane.
San.
Iohn Beane, this is the right way, is it not?

Ioh.
I sir, would to God we were past this wood.

San.
Why art thou affraide? See yonder's companie.

Bro.
They haue espied me, I wil slip aside.

Ioh.
O God sir, I am heauy at the heart.
Good maister Sanders lets returne backe to Wolwich,
Me thinkes I go this waie against my wil.

San.
Why so I pre thee?

Ioh.
Truly I do not like
The man we saw, he slipt so soone away,
behind the bushes.

San.
Trust me Iohn, nor I,
But yet God willing we wil keepe our way.

Ioh.
I pray you sir let vs go backe againe,
I do remember now a dreame was told me,
That might I haue the world I cannot choose
But tremble euery ioynt to thinke vpon't,

Sand.
But we are men, lets not be so faint hearted,
As to affright our selues with visions,
Come on a Gods name.

Browne steps out and strikes vp Iohns heeles
Iohn.
Oh we are vndone.

Sand.
What seeke you sir?

Bro.
Thy bloud which I wil haue.

Sand.
Oh take my mony, and preserue my life.

Bro.
It is is not millions that can ransome thee,
Nor this base drudge, for both of you must die.

San.
Heare me a word, you are a gentleman,
Soile not your hands with bloud of innocents.

Bro.
Thou speakest in vaine.

San.
Then God forgiue my sinne,
Haue mercie on me, and vpon thee too,
The bloudie author of my timelesse death.

Bro.
Now wil I dip my hankercher in his bloud,
And send it as a token to my loue,
Looke how many wounds my hand hath giuen him,
So many holes Ile make within this cloth.

San.
Iesu receiue my soule into thy handes.

Bro.
What sound was that? it was not he that spake,
The breath is vanisht, from his nostrils,
Was it the other? no, his wounds are such,
As he is likewise past the vse of speech.
Who was it then that thundred in mine eares,
The name of Iesu? Doubtlesse twas my conscience,
And I am damn'd for this vnhallowed deede.
O sinne how hast thou blinded me til now,
Promising me securitie and rest,
But giuest me dreadful agonie of soule?
What shal I do? or whither shal I flie?
The very bushes wil discouer me.
See how their wounds do gape vnto the skies,
Calling for vengeance.

Enter Roger.
Rog.
How now master Browne?
What haue you done? why so, lets away,
For I haue spide come riding ore the heath,
Some halfe a dozen in a company.

Bro.
Away to London thou, Ile to the Court,
And shew my selfe, and after follow thee,
Giue this to mistris Sanders, bid her reade
Upon this bloudy handkercher the thing,
As I did promise and haue now performd,
But were it Roger to be done againe,
I would not do it for a kingdomes gaine.

Rog.
Tut faint not now, come let vs haste away.

Bro.
Oh I must feare, what euer thou dost say.
My shadow, if nought else will me betray.

Exeunt.
Beane left wounded, and for dead, stirres and creepes.
Beane
Dare I looke vp, for feare he yet be neere
That thus hath martirde me? yea, the coast is cleere:
For all these deadly wounds, yet liues my heart,
Alacke, how loath poore life is from my limbes to part!
I cannot goe, ah no, I cannot stand,
O God that some good bodie were neere hand:
To helpe me home to Wolwich ere I die,
To creep that way-ward whilst I liue ile trie:
O could I crawle but from this cursed wood,
Before I drowne my selfe in my owne blood.

Enter old Iohn and Ioane.
Old Iohn.

Now by my fathers saddle Ioane I think we
are bewitched, my beasts were neuer wont to breake out so
often: sure as death the harlotries are bespoken: but it is that
heifer with the white backe that leades them al a gadding, a
good lucke take her.

Ioane.

It is not dismall daie maister? did ye looke

in the Amminicke? if it be not, then tis either long of the
brended cow, that was nere wel in her wits since the butcher
bought her calf, or long of my dreame, or of my nose bleeding
this morning, for as I was washing my hands my nose bled
three drops, then I thought of Iohn Bean, God be with him,
for I dreamd he was married, and that our white calfe was
kild for his wedding dinner, God besse them both, for I loue
them both well.

Beane creepes.
Old Iohn.

Marie amen, for I tel thee my heart is heauie,
God send me good luck: my eies dazel, and I could weepe.
Lord blesse vs, what sight is this? looke Ione, and crosse thy
selfe.

Ione.

O master, master, looke in my purse for a peece of ginger,
I shall sweb, I shall swound, cut my lace, and couer my
face, I die else, it is Iohn Beane, killd, cutte, slaine: maister,
and ye be a man, help.

Old Iohn.

Iohn Beane? Now Gods forbod, alocke alock
good Iohn, how came ye in this pitteous plight? speake good
Iohn, nay groane not, speake who has done this deede? thou
hast not fordone thy selfe, hast thou?

Beane.

Ah no, no.

Ioane.

Ah, no, no, he neede not haue done that, for God
knowes I loued him as deerely as he loued me, speake Iohn,
who did it?

Beane.

One in a white dublet and blew breeches, he has
slaine another too, not farre off: O stoppe my woundes if ye
can.

Old Iohn.

Ioane, take my napkin and thy apron, and
bind vp his wounds, and cows go where they wil til we haue
carried him home.

Ioane.
Wo worth him Iohn that did this dismal deede,
Heart-breake be his mirth, and hanging be his meede.

Old Iohn.

Ah weladay, see where another lies, a hansome
comely ancient gentleman: what an age liue we in?
when men haue no mercy of men more than of dogges, bloudier
than beasts? This is the deed of some swaggering, swearing,
drunken desperate Dicke. Call we them Cabbaleers?
masse they be Canniballes, that haue the stabbs readyer in
their handes than a penny in their purse: Shames death be
their share. Ione, hast thou done? Come lend me a hand, to
lay this good man in some bush, from birds and from beasts,
till we carry home Iohn Beane to his Maisters, and rayse all
Wolwich to fetch home this man, and make search: lift there
Ione: so, so.

They carry out Sanders.
Beane.
Lord comfort my soule, my body is past cure.

Old Iohn.
Now lets take vp Iohn Beane:
Softly Ione, softly.

Ione.

Ah Iohn, little thought I to haue carried thee thus
within this weeke, but my hope is aslope, and my ioy is laide
to sleepe.

Exeunt.
Enter a yeoman of the Buttery, Browne, and mayster Iames.
Yeo.

Welcome maister Browne, what ist you'le drinke,
ale or beere?

Bro.
Mary ale and if you please,
You see sir I am bold to trouble you.

Yeo.
No trouble sir at all, the Queene our Mistris
Allowes this bounty to all commers, much more
To Gentlemen of your sort: some ale there ho.

Enter one with a Iacke and a court dish.
Yeo.
Here maister Browne, thus much to your health.

Bro.
I thanke you sir: nay, prethee fill my cup.
Here maister Iames, to you with all my heart.
How say you now sir? was I not adry?

Yeo.
Beleeue me yes, wil't please ye mend your draught?

Bro.
No more sir in this heate, it is not good.

M. Iames

It seemes, maister Browne, that you haue

gone apace.

Came you from London that you made such haste?
But soft, what haue I spide? your hose is bloudy.

Bro.
How, bloudy? where? Good sooth tis so indeede.

Yeo.
It seemes it is but newly done.

Browne

Yeo.
Yes there's no doubt, with alittle sope and water.

M. Iames.
I would I had beene with you at that sport,

Bro.
I would you had sir, twas good sport indeede.

Bro.
Now afore God, this bloud was ill espied?
But my excuse I hope wil serue the turne.
—Aside.
Gentlemen, I must to London this forenoone,
About some earnest busines doth concerne me,
Thankes for my ale, and your good companies.

Both
Adieu good maister Browne.

Browne
Farewell vnto you both.

Exit.
M. Iames
An honest proper Gentleman as liues:
God be with you sir, Ile vp into the Presence.

Yeo.
Y'are welcome M. Iames, God be with ye sir.

Exeunt
Enter Anne Sanders, Anne Drewry, and Roger: Drewry hauing the bloudy handkercher in her hand.
Anne
Oh shew not me that ensigne of despaire,
But hide it, burne it, bury it in the earth,
It is a kalender of bloody letters,
Containing his, and yours, and all our shames.

Dru.
Good mistris Sanders, be not so outragious.

Anne
What tell you me? is not my husband slaine?
Are not we guiltie of his cruel death?
Oh my deare husband I wil follow thee:
Giue me a knife, a sword, or any thing,
Wherewith I may do iustice on my selfe.
Iustice for murther, iustice for the death
Of my deare husband, my betrothed loue.

Rog.
These exclamations will bewray vs all,
Good mistres Sanders peace.

Dru.
I pray you peace,
Your seruants, or some neighbours else wil heare.

Anne.
Shall I feare more my seruants, or the world,
Then God himselfe? He heard our trecherie,
And saw our complot and conspiracie:
Our hainous sinne cries in the eares of him,
Lowder then we can crie vpon the earth:
A womans sinne, a wiues inconstancie,
Oh God that I was borne to be so vile,
So monstrous and prodigious for my lust.
Fie on this pride of mine, this pamperd flesh,
I will reuenge me on these tising eies,
And teare them out for being amourous.
Oh Sanders my deare husband, giue me leaue,
Why doe you hold me? are not my deeds vglie?
Let then my faults be written in my face.

Dru.
Oh do not offer violence to your selfe.

Anne.
Haue I not done so alreadie? Is not
The better part of me by me misdone?
My husband, is he not slaine? is he not dead?
But since you labour to preuent my griefe,
Ile hide me in some closet of my house,
And there weepe out mine eies, or pine to death,
That haue vntimely stopt my husbands breath.

Exit.
Dru.
What shall we doe Roger? go thou and watch
For master Brownes arriual from the Court,
And bring him hither, happily his presence
Wil be a meanes to driue her from this passion.
In the meane space I will go after her,
And do the best I can to comfort her.

Rog.
I will: take heede she do not kill her selfe.

Dru.
For Gods sake haste thee, and be circumspect.

Enter Sanders yong sonne, and another boy comming from schoole.
Yong San.
Come Harrie shall we play a game?

Har.
At what?

Yong San.
Why at crosse and pile.

Har.
You haue no Counters.

Yong San.
Yes but I haue as many as you.

Har.
Ile drop with you, and he that has most, take all.

Yong San.

No sir, if youle play a game, tis not yet twelue
by halfe an houre, Ile set you like a gamster.

Har.

Go to, where shall we play?

Yong San.

Here at our doore.

Har.

What and if your father find vs?

Yong San.

No hees at Woolwich, and will not come
home to night.

Har.
Set me then, and here's a good.

Enter Brown and Roger.
Bro.
Is she so out of pacience as thou saist?

Rog.
Wonderfull sir, I haue not seene the like.

Bro.
What does she meane by that? nay what meane I
To aske the question? has she not good cause?
Oh yes, and we haue euery one of vs iust cause
To hate and be at variance with our selues.
But come, I long to see her.

—he spies the boy.
Rog.
How now captaine?
Why stop you on the sudden? why go you not?
What makes you looke so gastly towards the house?

Bro.
Is not the formost of those prettie boyes
One of George Sanders sonnes?

Rog.
Yes, t'is is yongest.

Bro.
Both yong'st and eld'st are now made fatherlesse
By my vnluckie hand. I prethee go,
And take him from the doore, the sight of him
Strikes such a terror to my guiltie conscience,
As I haue not the heart to looke that way,
Nor stirre my foote vntill he be remoou'd.
Me thinkes in him I see his fathers wounds
Fresh bleeding in my sight, nay he doth stand
Like to an Angel with a firie sworde,
To barre mine entrance at that fatall doore,
I prethee steppe, and take him quickly thence.

Rog.
Away my prettie boy, your master comes,
And youle be taken playing in the street,
What at vnlawful games? away be gone,
T'is dinner time, yong Sanders youle be ierkt,
Your mother lookes for you before this time.

Yong San.
Gaffer if you'le not tel my master of me,
Ile giue you this new silke poynt.

Rog.
Go to I will not.

Har.

Nor of me, and there's two counters, I haue
woonne no more.

Rog.
Of neither of you, so you wil be gone.

Yong San.
God be with you, ye shal see me no more.

Har.
Nor me, I meane playing at this doore.

Rog.
Now captaine if you please you may come forward
But see where mistris Sanders and my mistris
Are comming forth to meete you on the way?

Dru.
See where master Browne is, in him take comfort,
And learne to temper your excessiue griefe.

Anne.
Ah, bid me feed on poyson and be fat,
Or looke vpon the Basiliske and liue,
Or surfet daily and be stil in health,
Or leape into the sea and not be drownde:
All these are euen as possible as this,
That I should be recomforted by him,
That is the Authour of my whole lament.

Bro.
Why mistris Anne I loue you dearly,
And but for your incomparable beautie
My soule had neuer dreamt of Sanders death:
Then giue me that which now I do deserue,
Your selfe, your loue, and I will be to you
A husband so deuote, as none more iust,
Or more affectionate shal treade this earth.

Anne.
If you can craue it of me with a tongue
That hath not bin prophande with wicked vowes,
Or thinke it in a heart did neuer harbour
Pretence of murther, or put foorth a hand
As not contaminate with shedding bloud,
Then will I willingly graunt your request:
But oh your hand, your heart, your tongue, and eye,
Are all presenters of my misery.

Bro.
Talke not of that, but let vs study now
How we may salue it, and conceale the fact.

Anne
Mountains will not suffice to couer it,
Cymerian darkenesse cannot shadow it,
Nor any pollicie wit hath in store,
Cloake it so cunningly, but at the last
If nothing else, yet will the very stones
That lie within the streetes cry out for vengeance,
And point at vs to be the murderers.

Exeunt
Enter three Lords, Maister Iames, and two Messengers with their boxes, one Lord reading a letter.
1 Lo.
Fore God (my Lords) a very bloudy act.

This hath the letter.
2 Lo.
Yea, and committed in eye of Court
Audatiously, as who should say, he durst
Attempt a murther in despite of Law.

3 Lo.
Pray ye lets see your letter (good my Lord.)
He takes and reades the letter.
Tenne wounds at least, and deadly eu'ry wound,
And yet he liues, and tels markes of the man,
Eu'n at the edge of Shooters hill, so neare?

1 Lo.
We shal not need to send these Messengers,
For hew and cry may take the murtherers.

Enter a fourth Lord with a Water man and a Page.
4 Lord.
Nay sirra you shall tel this tale againe
Before the Lords, come on: my Lords what newes?

1 Lord.
Bad newes my Lord, A cruel murthers done,
Neere Shooters hill, and here's a letter come
From Wolwich, from a gentleman of worth,
Noting the manner, and the marks of him,
(By likelihoode) that did that impious deede.

4 Lord.
Tis noysd at London, that a marchants slain,
One maister Sanders dwelling neere Tames streete,
And that George Browne, a man whom we al know,
Is vehemently suspected for the fact,
And fled vpon't, and this same water man,
That brought me downe saies he row'd him vp,
And that his hose were bloudy, which he hid
Stil with his hat sitting bare head in the boate,
And sigh'd and star'd as one that was afraide,
How saist thou sirra, was't not so he did?

Wat.
Yes, and 't please your Lordship so it was.

Lord.
What did he weare?

Water.
A doublet of white satten,
And a large paire of breeches of blew silke.

2 Lord.
Was he so suted when you dranke with him,
Here in the butterie?

M. Ia.
Yea my Lord he was.

3 Lord.
And his hose bloudy?

M. Ia.
Iust as he affirmes.

3 Lord.

Conferre the markes the wounded fellow telles
with these reports.

1 Lord.
The man that did the deede,
reades.
Was faire and fat, his doublet of white silke,
His hose of blew, I am sorie for George Browne.
lookes off.
Twas he my Lords.

4 Lord.
The more accursed man,
Get warrants drawne: and messengers attend,
Cal al your fellowes, ride out euerie waie,
Poste to the Ports, giue charge that no man passe
Without our warrant, one take boate to London,
Command the Sheriffes make wise and speedie search,
Descipher him by al the marks you can,
Let bloud be paid with bloud in any man.

1 Lord
We were too blame els: come my lords, lets in,
To signe our warrants, and to send them out.

Exeunt omnes.
Enter Drury, and Roger with a bagge.
Dru.
Why Roger, canst thou get but twentie pound,
Of al the plate that thou hadst from vs both,
Mine owne's worth twentie, what hadst thou of her?

Rog.
Two bolles and spoones I know not what my selfe.
Tis in a note, and I could get no more
But twentie pound.

Dru.
Alas twil do no good.
And he must thence, if he be tane he dies,
On his escape thou knowest our safetie lies.

Rog.
Thats true, alas what wil ye haue me do?

Dru.
Runne to Nan Sanders bid her make some shift,
Trie al her friends to helpe at this dead lift:
For al the mony that she can deuise,
And send by thee with al the haste she may,
Tel her we die if Browne make any stay.

Rog.
I wil I wil.
Exit Roger.

Dru.
Thou wilt, thou wilt, alas
That ere this dismal deede was brought to passe,
But now tis done, we must preuent the worst.
Enter Browne.
And here comes he that makes vs al accurst:
How now George Browne?

Bro.
Nan Drurie now vndone.
Undone by that, that thou hast made me doe.

Dru.
I make ye do it? your owne loue made ye do it.

Bro.
Wel, done it is, what shal we now say too't,
Search is made for me, be I tane, I die,
And there are other as farre in as I.
I must beyond sea, money haue I none,
Nor dare I looke for any of mine owne.

Dru.
Here's twenty pound I borrowed of my plate,
And to your Mistris I haue sent for more
Enter Roger.
By Hodge my man: now Roger, hast thou sped?

Rog.
Yea, of six pound, tis all that she can make,
She prayes ye tak't in worth, and to be gone:
She heares the Shiriffes wil be there anone,
And at our house: a thousand commendations
She sends you, praying you to shift for your selfe.

Bro.
Euen as I may Roger, farewel to thee,
If I were richer, then thou shouldst go with me,
But pouertie partes company, farewel Nan,
Commend me to my mistris if you can.

Dru.
Step thither your selfe, I dare not come there,
Ile keepe my house close, for I am in feare.

Ro.
God be with you, good Captaine.

Browne
Farewel, gentle Hodge,
Oh master Sanders, wert thou now aliue,
Al Londons wealth thy death should not contriue:
This heate of loue and hasty climbing breeds,
God blesse all honest tall men from such deedes.

Enter Tragedie afore the shew.
Tragedy.
Preuailing Sinne hauing by three degrees,
Made his ascension to forbidden deedes,
As first, alluring their vnwary mindes
To like what she proposde, then practising
To draw them to consent: and last of all
Ministring fit meanes and oportunitie
To execute what she approoued good:
Now she vnuailes their sight, and lets them see
The horror of their foule immanitie
And wrath that al this while hath bin obscurde,
Steps forth before them in a thousand shapes
Of gastly thoughts, and loathing discontents:
So that the rest was promist, now appeares
Unrest, and deepe affliction of the soule,
Delight prooues danger, confidence dispaire,
As by this folowing shew shall more appeare.

Enter Iustice and Mercy: when hauing taken their seates, Iustice falls into a slumber, then enters wronged Chastitie, and in dumbe action vttring her griefe to Mercie, is put away, whereon she wakens Iustice, who listning her attentiuely, starts vp, commanding his Officers to attend her. Then go they with her, and fetch forth master Sanders body, mistris Sanders, Drury, and Roger, led after it, and being shewne it, they al seeme very sorrowful, and so are led away. But Chastitie shewes that the chiefe offender is not as yet taken, whereon Iustice dispatcheth his seruant Diligence to make further enquirie after the murderer, and so they depart the stage with Chastitie.
Tra.
Thus lawles actions and prodigious crimes
Drinke not the bloud alone of them they hate,
But euen their ministers, when they haue done
Al that they can, must help to fil the Sceane,
And yeeld their guilty neckes vnto the blocke.
For which intent, the wronged Chastity
Prostrate before the sacred throne of Iustice,
With wringing hands, and cheekes besprent with teares,
Pursues the murtherers. And being heard
Of Mercy first, that in relenting wordes,
Would faine perswade her to humilitie,
She turnes from her: and with her tender hand
Wakes slumbering Iustice, when her tale being told,
And the dead body brought for instance forth,
Strait inquisition and search is made,
And the offenders as you did behold,
Discouer d where they thought to be vnseene.
Then triall now remaines as shall conclude,
Measure for measure, and lost bloud for bloud.

Enter George Browne, and one Browne a Butcher in Rochester.
But.
T'is maruell coosen Browne we see you here,
And thus alone without all companie:
You were not woont to visit Rochester,
But you had still some friend or other with you.

Bro.
Such is th'occasion coosin at this time,
And for the loue I beare you, I am bold
To make my selfe your guest, rather then lie
In any publike Inne: because indeed
The house where I was woont to host, is full
Of certaine Frenchmen and their followers.

But.
Nay coosin Browne, I would not haue you thinke
I doe obiect thus much as one vnwilling
To shew you any kindnesse that I can,
My house though homely, yet such as it is,
And I my selfe will be at your commaund.
I loue you for your name sake, and trust me sir,
Am proud that such a one as you will call me coosin,
Though I am sure we are no kin at all.

Bro.
Yes coosin we are kin: nor do I scorne
At any time to acknowledge as much,
Toward men of baser calling then your selfe.

But.
It may be so sir: but to tell you truth,
It seemed somewhat strange to me at first,
And I was halfe afraid some ill had hapned,
That made you carefull whom you trusted to.

Bro.
Faith coosin none but this: I owe some mony,
And one I am indebted to of late,
Hath brought his action to an outlawrie.
And seekes to do me all extremitie,
But that I am not yet prouided for him,
And that he shall not haue his will of me,
I do absent me, till a friend of mine
Do see what order he may take with him.

But.
How now whoe's this?

Enter maister Maior, master Iames, with a purseuant, and others.
Maior.
Where are you neighbour Browne?

But.
Master Maior, y'are welcome, what's the news sir
You come so guarded, is there aught amisse?

Bro.
Heauen will haue iustice showne, it is euen so.

Iames.
I can assure you tis the man we seeke,
Then doe your office master Maior.

Maior.
George Browne.
I doe arrest you in her highnesse name,
As one suspected to haue murdred
George Sanders Citizen of London.

Bro.
Of murther sir? there liues not in this land
Can touch me with the thought of murther.

Maior.
Pray God it be so: but you must along
Before their honors there to answer it.
Here's a commission that commands it so.

Bro.
Well sir I do obey, and do not doubt
But I shall proue me innocent therein.

Iames.
Come master Maior, it is the Councels pleasure,
You must assist vs till we come to Woolwich,
Where we haue order to conferre at large
With master Barnes concerning this mishap.

Maior.
Withall my heart, farewell good neighbor Brown.

But.
God keepe you maister Maior, and all the rest.
And master Browne beleeue me I am sorie
It was your fortune to haue no more grace.

Bro.
Coosin grieue not for me, my case is cleare,
Suspected men may be, but need not feare.

Exeunt.
Enter Iohn Beane brought in a Chaire, and master Barnes, and master Iames.
Barnes.
Sir how much I esteemd this Gentleman,
And in how hie respect I held his loue,
My griefes can hardly vtter.

M. Iames.

It shall not neede, your loue after his death
expresses it.

Barnes.
I would to god it could: and I am verie glad,
My Lords of her most honourable Councel
Haue made choise of your selfe, so graue a gentleman
To see the manner of this cruell murther.

M. Iames.
Sir, the most vnworthie I of many men,
But that in the hie bountie of your kindnes, so you terme me.
But trust me maister Barnes, amongst the rest
That was reported to them of the murther,
They hardly were induced to beleeue,
That this poore soule hauing so many wounds,
Laying his hand vpon him.
And all so mortall as they were reported,
With so much losse of blood, should possibly yet liue:
Why it is past beliefe.

Barnes.
Sir it is so, your worthie selfe can witnes.
As strange to vs that looke vpon the wretch,
As the report thereof vnto their wisdoms.

M. Iam:
More fearfull wounds, nor hurts more dangerous,
Upon my faith I haue not seene.

Beane.
Hey hoe, a little drinke, oh my head.

Barnes.
Good Iohn how doest thou?

Beane.
Whose that? father Iohn?

Barnes.
Nay Iohn, thy maister.

Beane.
O Lord my belly.

M. Iam.

He spends more breath that issues through his wounds,
then through his lippes.

Beane.
I am drie.

Barnes.
Iohn doest thou know me?

M. Iam.
See where thy master is: look dost thou know him?

Barns.
Sir he neuer had his perfit memorie, since the first houre

M. Iam.
Surely he cannot last.

Barnes.
And yet sir to our seeming I assure you,
He sat not vp so strongly, as you see him
Since he was brought into this house as now.

M. Iames.
Tis verie strange.

Enter the Maior of Rochester, with Browne, and Officers.
Barnes.
As I take it, maister Maior of Rochester?

Maior.
The same good master Barnes.

Barnes.
What happie fortune sent you here to Woolwich:
That yet your cōpany may giue vs comfort, in this sad time?

Maior.
Beleeue me sad in deed, and verie sad,
Sir the Councels warrant lately came to me
About the search, for one Captaine George Browne,
As it should seeme suspected for this murther,
Whom in my search I hapt to apprehend.
And hearing that the bodies of the murdred
Remained here, I thought it requisite,
To make this in my way to the Court,
Now going thither with the prisoner.

Barnes.
Beleeue me sir ye haue done right good seruice,
And show'ne your selfe a painfull Gentleman,
And shall no doubt deserue well of the state.

M. Iames.
No doubt you shall, and I durst assure you, so
The Councel wil accept well of the same.

Barnes.
Good maister Maior this wretched man of mine,
Is not yet dead: looke you where he sits,
But past all sense, and labouring to his end.

Maior.
Alas poore wretch.

Barnes.
Is this that Browne that is suspected to haue done
The murther? a goodly man beleeue me.
Too faire a creature for so fowle an act.

Browne.
Ny name is Browne sir.

M. Iames.
I know you well, your fortunes haue beene
Faire, as any Gentlemans of your repute.
But Browne, should you be guiltie of this fact,
As this your flight hath giuen shrewde suspition,
Oh Browne, your hands haue done the bloodiest deed
That euer was committed.

Bro.
He doth not liue dare charge me with it.

M. Ia.
Pray God there be not.

Maior.

Sergeants bring him neare: see if this poore soule
know him.

Barnes
It cannot be: these two dayes space
He knew no creature.

Bro.
Swounds, liues the villaine yet?
—aside.
O how his very sight affrights my soule!
His very eies will speake had he no tongue,
And will accuse me.

Barnes
See how his wounds break out afresh in bleeding.

M. Ia.
He stirs himselfe.

Maior.
He openeth his eyes.

Barnes.
See how he lookes vpon him.

Bro.
I gaue him fifteene wounds,
—aside
Which now be fifteene mouthes that doe accuse me,
In eu'ry wound there is a bloudy tongue,
Which will all speake, although he hold his peace,
By a whole Iury I shalbe accusde.

Barnes.
Iohn, dost thou heare? knowest thou this man?

Beane.
Yea, this is he that murdred me and M. Sanders.

He sinckes downe.
M. Ia.
O hold him vp.

Maior.
Iohn comfort thy selfe.

M. Ia.
Bow him, giue him ayre.

Barnes.
No he is dead.

Bro.
Me thinks he is so fearefull in my sight,
That were he now but where I saw him last,
For all this world I would not looke on him.

Barnes.

The wondrous worke of God, that the poore
creature, not speaking for two dayes, yet now should speake
to accuse this man, and presently yeeld vp his soule.

M. Ia.
Tis very strange, and the report thereof
Can seeme no lesse vnto the Lords.

Maior.
Sergeants, away, prepare you for the court,
And I will follow you immediatly.

Barnes.
Sure the reuealing of this murther's strange.

M. Ia.
It is so sir: but in the case of blood,
Gods iustice hath bin stil myraculous.

Maior.
I haue heard it told, that digging vp a graue,
Wherein a man had twenty yeeres bin buryed,
By finding of a naile knockt in the scalpe,
By due enquirie who was buried there,
The murther yet at length did come to light.

Barnes
I haue heard it told, that once a traueller,
Being in the hands of him that murdred him,
Told him, the fearne that then grew in the place,
If nothing else, yet that would sure reueale him:
And seuen yeares after, being safe in London,
There came a sprigge of fearne borne by the wind,
Into the roome where as the murtherer was,
At sight whereof he sodainely start vp,
And then reueald the murder.

M Ia.
Ile tell you (sir) one more to quite your tale,
A woman that had made away her husband,
And sitting to behold a tragedy
At Linne a towne in Norffolke,
Acted by Players trauelling that way,
Wherein a woman that had murtherd hers
Was euer haunted with her husbands ghost:
The passion written by a feeling pen,
And acted by a good Tragedian,
She was so mooued with the sight thereof,
As she cryed out, the Play was made by her,
And openly confesst her husbands murder.

Barnes.
How euer theirs, Gods name be praisde for this:
You M. Maior I see must to the Court:
I pray you do my duety to the Lords.

Maior.
That will I sir.

M. Ia.
Come, Ile go along with you.

Exeunt.
Enter the Lords at the Court, and Messengers.
1 Lord.
Where was Browne apprehended, Messenger?

2 Mess.

At Rochester (my Lord) in a Butchers house

of his owne name, from thence brought vp to Wolwich.

4 Lord.

And there the fellow he left for dead with all
those wounds affirm'd that it was he.

1 Mess.
He did my Lord, and with a constant voice, praid
God forgiue Browne, and receiue his soule, and so departed.

1 Lord.
T'is a wondrous thing,
But that the power of heauen sustained him,
A man with nine or ten such mortal wounds,
Not taking foode should liue so many daies,
And then at sight of Browne recouer strength,
And speake so cheerely as they say he did.

4 Lord.
I, and soone after he auouch'd the fact
Unto Brownes face then to giue vp the ghost.

2 Lord.
T'was Gods good wil it should be so my Lord,
But what said Browne, did he denie the deede?

1 Mess.
Neuer my Lord, but did with teares lament,
(As seemd to vs) his hainous crueltie.

1 Lord.
When wil they come?

1 Mess.
Immediately my Lord,
For they haue wind, and tide, and boats do wait.

Enter M. Maior, M. Iames, &c.
M. Iames.

My Lordes, the Maior of Rochester is come
with Browne.

Exit M. Iames

4 Lord.
Let him come in: you messenger,
Haste you to London to the Iustices,
Will them from vs see and indictment drawne,
Against George Browne for murdring of George Sanders.

1 Lord.
Welcome good master Maior of Rochester.

Enter Maior, Browne, a Messenger, another, and M. Humpherie
Maior.
I humbly thanke your honours.

4 Lord.
We thank you.
For you great care and diligence in this,
And many other faithful seruices.
Now maister Browne, I am sorie it was your happe,
To be so farre from grace and feare of God,
As to commit so bloudy a murder,
What say ye? are ye not sorie for it?

Browne.
Yes my Lord, and were it now to do,
Al the worlds wealth could not intice me too't.

1 Lord.
Was there any ancient quarrel Browne,
Betwixt your selfe and maister Sanders?

Browne.
No.

2 Lord.
Was't for the mony that he had about him?

Browne.
No my good Lord I knew of none he had.

4 Lord.
No, I heard an inckling of the cause,
You did affect his wife George Browne too much.

Browne.
I did my Lord, and God forgiue it me.

3 Lord.
Then she prouok'd ye to dispatch him.

Browne.
No.

4 Lord.
Yes, and promised you should marrie her.

Browne.
No, I wil take it vpon my death.

1 Lord.
Some other were confederate in the fact,
Confesse then Browne, discharge thy conscience.

Browne.
I wil my Lord at hower of my death.

2 Lord.
Nay now that they with thee may die for it.

Maister Iames deliuers a letter.
4 Lord.
From whom is this letter?

open and reade it.
M Iam.
From the Sheriffes of London.

4 Lord.
I told ye mistris Sanders hand was in.
The act's confessd by two that she knew on't.

Bro.
They do her wrong my Lords vpon my life,

4 Lord.
Why Druries wife and Roger do affirme,
Unto her face that she did giue consent.

Bro.
God pardon them, they wrong the innocent.
They both are guiltie and procurde the deed,
And gaue me mony since the deede was done,
Twentie sixe pound to carrie me away,
But mistris Sanders as I hope for heauen,
Is guiltlesse, ignorant how it was done,
But Druries wife did beare me stil in hand,
If he were dead she would effect the marriage,
And trusty Roger her base apple-squire
Haunted me like a spright till it was done,
And now like Diuels accuse that harmlesse soule.

1 Lord
Well M. Browne, w'are sory for your fall,
You were a man respected of vs all,
And noted fit for many seruices,
And fie that wanton lust should ouerthrow
Such gallant parts in any Gentleman:
Now al our fauors cannot do ye good,
The act's too odious to be spoken of,
Therefore we must dismisse ye to the Law.

4 Lord
Expect no life, but meditate of death,
And for the safegard of thy sinful soule,
Conceale no part of trueth for friend or foe.
And maister Maior, as you haue taken paines,
So finish it, and see him safe conueyd
To the Iustices of the Bench at Westminster:
Wil them from vs to try him speedily,
That Gentleman shal go along with you,
And take in writing his confession.

2 Lo.
Farewel George Browne, discharge thy conscience

Bro.
I do my Lord, that Sanders wife is cleere.

exeunt om.
Enter some to prepare the iudgement seat to the Lord Maior, Lo. Iustice, and the foure Lords, and one Clearke, and a Shiriff, who being set, commaund Browne to be brought forth.
1 Off.
Come lets make haste, and wel prepare this place.

2 Off.
How well I pray you? what haste more then was wont

1 Off.
Why diuers lords are come frō court to day,
To see th'arraignment of this lustie Browne.

2. Off.
Lustie? how lustie? now hees tame enough,
And wilbe tamer. Oh a lustie youth,
Lustily fed, and lustily apparelled,
Lustie in looke, in gate, in gallant talke,
Lustie in wooing, in fight and murthring,
And lustilie hangd, there's th'end of lustie Browne.

1 Off.
Hold your lustie peace, for here come the Lords.

Enter all as before.
L. Maior.
Please it your honors, place your selues my lords

L. Iustice.
Bring forth the prisoner, and keepe silence there,
Prepare the Inditement that it may be read.

Browne is brought in.
Cleark.

To the barre George Browne, & hold vp thy hand.
Thou art here indited by the name of George Browne, late
of London Gentleman, for that thou vpon the xxv. day of
March in the xv. yeare of the raigne of her sacred Maiestie
whom God long preserue, betweene the houres of vii. and
viii. of the clocke in the forenoone of the same day, neere vnto
Shooters hill, in the countie of Kent, lying in wait of purpose
and pretended malice, hauing no feare of God before thine
eies, the persons of George Sanders Gentleman, and Iohn
Bean yeoman, then and there iourneying in Gods peace and
the princes, feloniously did assault, and with one sword, price
sixe shillings, mortally and wilfully, in many places diddest
wound vnto the death against the peace, crown and dignitie
of her maiestie. How saiest thou to these fellonious murders,
art thou guiltie or not guiltie?

Bro.
Guiltie.

Lo. Iust.
The Lord haue mercie vpon thee.

Master Shiriff ye shal not need to returne any Iury to passe
vpon him, for he hath pleaded guiltie, and stands conuict at
the barre attending his iudgement. What canst thou say for
thy selfe Browne, why sentence of death should not bee pronounced
against thee?

Bro.
Nothing my Lord, but onely do beseech,
Those noble men assistants on that bench,
And you my Lord who are to iustice sworne,
As you will answere at Gods iudgement seat,
To haue a care to saue the innocent,
And (as my selfe) to let the guiltie die,
That's Druries wife, and her man trustie Roger:
But if Anne Sanders die, I do protest
As a man dead in law, that she shall haue
The greatest wrong that ere had guiltlesse soule.

Lo. Iust.
She shal haue iustice, and with fauor, Browne

4 Lo.
Assure your selfe (Browne) she shal haue no wrong.

Bro.
I humbly thanke your Lordships.

2 Lo.
Hearke ye Browne,
What countryman are ye borne?

Bro.
Of Ireland, and in Dublin.

Lo. Iust.
Haue you not a brother calld Anthony Browne?

Bro.
Yes my Lord, whome (as I heare)
Your Lordship keepes close prisoner now in Newgate.

Lo. Iust.
Wel, two bad brothers, God forgiue ye both.

Bro.
Amen my Lord, and you, and al the world.

Lo. Iust.
Attend your sentence.

Bro.
Presently my Lord:
But I haue one petition first to make
Unto those Noble men, which on my knees
I do beseech them may not be denyed.

4 Lo.
What ist George Browne?

Browne.
I know the Law
Condemnes a murtherer to be hangd in chaines,
O good my Lords, as you are Noble men
Let me be buried so soone as I am dead.

1 Lo.
Thou shalt, thou shalt, let not that trouble thee,
But heare thy iudgement.

Lo. Iust.
Browne, thou art here by Law condemnd to die,
Which by thine owne confession thou deseru'st.
Al men must die, although by diuers meanes,
The maner how is of least moment, but
The matter why, condemns or iustifies:
But be of comfort, though the world condemne,
Yea, though thy conscience sting thee for thy fact,
Yet God is greater than thy conscience,
And he can saue whom al the world condemnes,
If true repentance turne thee to his grace.
Thy time is short, therefore spend this thy time
In praier and contemplation of thy end,
Labour to die better then thou hast liu'd,
God grant thou maist. Attend thy iudgement now:
Thou must go from hence to the place frō whence thou camst
From thence to th'appointed place of execution,
And there be hangd vntill thou be dead,
And thy bodie after at the princes pleasure:
And so the Lord haue mercie vpon thee Browne.
Master Shiriff, see execution, and now take him hence,
And bring those other prisoners that you haue.

Bro.
My Lords forget not my petitions,
Saue poore Anne Sanders for shees innocent:
And good my Lords let me not hang in Chaines.

Browne is led out, and Anne Sanders, and Drurie brought in.
4 Lor.
Farewel, let none of these things trouble thee.

1 Lor.
See how he labors to acquit Anne Sanders.

4 Lor.
What hath his brother that is in Newgate done?

Lo. Iust.
Notorious fellonies in Yorkeshire my Lord,
Here come the prisoners: bring them to the barre:
Read their inditement: master Shiriffe prepare
Your Iurie readie: command silence there.

Anne Sanders hath a white Rose in her bosome.
Cleark.
Anne Sanders, and Anne Drurie,
To the barre and hold vp your hands.

You are here ioyntly & seuerally indited in forme following,
vz. that you Anne Sanders, and Anne Drurie, late of London
Spinsters, & thou Roger Clement, late of the same yeoman,
and euerie of you ioyntly and seuerally, before and after the
xxv. day of March last past, in the xv. yeare of the reigne of
her sacred Maiestie, whom God long preserue, hauing not
the fear of God before your eies, did maliciously conspire and
conclude with one George Brown Gent. the death of George
Sanders, late husband to you Anne Sanders, and did intice, animate
and procure the said George Browne to murder the

said maister Sanders: And also after the said heinous murther
committed, did with mony and other means, aid releeue, and
abet the said Browne, knowing him to haue done the deede,
whereby you are all accessaries both before and after the fact
contrarie to the peace, crowne, and dignitie of our soueraigne
Lady the Queene: how say ye seuerally, Are ye guiltie, or not
guiltie, as accessaries both before and after to this felonie
and murther?

Anne.
Not guiltie.

Drew.
Not guiltie.

Clerk.
How wil ye be tried?

Both.
By God and by the Countrey.

Lo. Iust.
Bring forth trustie Roger there,
Roger what saist thou to this letter?
Who gaue it thee to carrie vnto Browne?

Rog.
My mistris gaue it me,
And she did write it on our Ladies Eue.

L. Iust.
Did mistris Sanders know thereof or no?

Rog.
She read it twise before the same was seald

Anne.
Did I thou wicked man?
This man is hirde to betray my life,

2 Lord.
Fie mistris Sanders, you doe not wel,
To vse such speeches, when ye see the case,
Is too too manifest. But I pray ye,
Why do you weare that white rose in your bosome?

Anne.
In token of my spotlesse innocence,
As free from guilt as is this flower from staine.

2 Lord.
I feare it wil not fal out so.

L. Iust.
Roger what mony carried you to Browne,
After the deede to get him gone withall?

Roger.
Twentie sixe pounds, which coine was borowed
Parte of my mistris plate, and some of mistris Sanders.

L. Iust.
How say ye to that mistris Sanders?

Anne.
Indeede I grant I misse some of my plate,
And now am glad I know the theefe that stole it.

Roger.
O God forgiue ye, you did giue it me.
And God forgiue me, I did loue you al,
Too wel, which now I deerely answer for.

1 Lord.
Anne Drurie, what say you was not the plate,
Part of it yours, and the rest mistris Sanders,
According as your man hath here confessde,
With which she borrowed twentie pound for Browne?

Dru.
My Lord it was.

2 Lord.
And you and she together,
Were priuie of the letter which was sent.
Was it so or no? why do you not speake?

Dru.
It was my Lord, and mistris Sanders knew,
That Roger came the morning ere he went,
And had a token from her to George Browne,
A handkercher which after was sent backe,
Imbrude in Sanders bloud.

L. Iustice.
Who brought that handkercher?

Dru.
That did my man.

1 Lo.
To whom did you deliuer it sirra?

Rog.
To mistris Sanders at her house my Lord.

Anne.
O God (my Lords) he openly belies me.
I kept my childbed chamber at that time,
Where t'was not meete that he or any man
Should haue accesse.

L. Iust.
Go to, clog not your soule,
With new additions of more hainous sinne.
Tis thought beside conspiring of his death,
You wrongd your husband with vnchaste behauiour,
For which the iustice of the righteous God,
Meaning to strike you, yet reserues a place,
Of gracious mercie, if you can repent,
And therefore bring your wickednesse to light,
That suffering for it in this world, you might,
Upon your heartie sorrow be set free,
And feare no further iudgement in the next,
But if you spurne at his affliction,
And beare his chasticement with grudging minds,
Your precious soule as wel as here your bodies,
Are left in hazard of eternal death,
Be sorrie therefore, tis no pettie sinne,
But murder most vnnatural of al,
Wherewith your hands are tainted, and in which,
Before and after the accursed fact,
You stand as accessarie: to be briefe,
You shal be carried backe vnto the place,
From whence you came, and so from thence at last,
Unto the place of execution, where
You shal al three be hang'd til you be dead,
And so the Lord haue mercie on your soules.

Anne.
Ah good my Lords be good vnto Anne Sanders,
Or els you cast away an innocent.

2 Lord.
It should not seeme so by the rose you weare,
His colour now is of another hue.

Anne.
So you wil haue it: but my soule is stil,
As free from murther as it was at first.

Lo. Iust.
I think no lesse, Iailer, away with them.

Anne.
Wel wel Anne Drury I may curse the time,
That ere I saw thee, thou broughtst me to this.

Rog.
I will not curse, but God forgiue ye both,
For had I neuer knowne nor you nor her,
I had not come vnto this shameful death.

Exeunt.
Enter maister Browne to execution with the Sheriffe and Officers.
Browne.
Why do you stay me, in the waie of death,
The peoples eies haue fed them with my sight,
The little babies in the mothers armes,
Haue wept for those poore babies seeing me,
That I by my murther haue left fatherlesse,
And shreekt and started when I came along,
And sadly sigh'd, as when their nurses vse
To fright them with some monster when they crie.

Sheriffe.
You haue a brother Browne, that for a murther
Is lately here committed vnto Newgate,
And hath obtained he may speake with you.

Browne.
Haue I a brother, that hath done the like?
Is there another Browne hath kild a Sanders?
It is my other selfe hath done the deede,
I am a thousand, euery murtherer is my owne selfe,
I am at one time in a thousand places,
And I haue slaine a thousand Sanderses,
In euery shire, each cittie, and each towne,
George Sanders stil is murthered by George Browne.

Brownes brother is brought forth.
Brow. bro.
Brother.

Brow.
Dost thou meane me?
Is there a man wil call me brother?

Brownes bro.
Yes I wil cal thee so, and may do it,
That haue a hand as deepe in bloud as thou.

Brown.
Brother I know thee well, of whence was thine?

Brother.
Of Yorke he was.

Browne.
Sanders of London mine.
Then see I wel Englands two greatest townes.
Both fild with murders done by both the Brownes.

Brother.
Then may I rightly chalenge thee a brother.
Thou slewest one in the one, I one in th'other.

Browne.
When didst thou thine?

Brother.
A month or fiue weekes past.

Browne.
Hardly to say then which was done the last,
Where shalt thou suffer?

Brother.
Where I did the fact,

Browne.
And I here brother where I laid my act:
Then I see wel that be it nere or further,
That heauen wil stil take due reuenge on murther.

Brother.
Brother farewel, I see we both must die,
At London you this weeke, next at Yorke I.

Browne.
Two lucklesse brothers sent both at one hower,
The one from Newgate, thother from the Tower.

Exit Brot.
Sheriffe.
Browne: yet at last to satisfie the world,
And for a true and certaine testimonie,
Of thy repentance for this deed committed,
Now at the houre of death, as thou doest hope
To haue thy sinnes forgiuen at Gods hands,
Freely confesse what yet vnto this houre,
Against thy conscience (Browne) thou hast concealde,
Anne Sanders knowledge of her husbands death.

Bro
Haue I not made a couenant with hell,
Aside.
That for the loue that I euer bare to her,
I will sell her life by my confession,
And shall I now confesse it? I am a villaine.
I will neuer do it: Shall it be said Browne proou'd
A recreant: (and yet I haue a soule.)
Well, God the rest reueale:
I will confesse my sinnes, but this conceale.
Upon my death shees guiltlesse of the fact.
Well, much a do I had to bring it out,
Aside.
My conscience scarce would let me vtter it,
I am glad tis past.

Shiriff.
But Browne, it is confest by Druries wife,
That she is guiltie: which doth fully proue
Thou hast no true contrition, but concealst
Her wickednesse, the bawd vnto her sinne.

Bro.
Let her confesse what she thinkes good:
Trouble me no more good master Shiriff.

Shiriff.
Browne, thy soule knowes.

Bro.
Yea, yea, it does: pray you be quiet sir:
Uile world how like a monster come I soyld from thee?
How haue I wallowed in thy lothsome filth,
Drunke and besmeard with al thy bestial sinne?
I neuer spake of God, vnlesse when I
Haue blasphemed his name with monstrous oathes:
I neuer read the scriptures in my life,
But did esteeme them worse then vanitie:
I neuer came in Church where God was taught,
Nor euer to the comfort of my soule
Tooke benefite of Sacrament or Baptisme:
The Sabboth dayes I spent in common stewes,
Unthriftie gaming, and vile periuries:
I held no man once worthie to be spoke of
That went not in some strange disguisde attire,
Or had not fetcht some vile monstrous fashion,
To bring in odious detestable pride:
I hated any man that did not doe
Some damned or some hated filthie deede,
That had beene death for vertuous men to heare,
Of all the worst that liue, I was the worst,
Of all the cursed, I the most accursed,
All carelesse men be warned by my end,
And by my fall your wicked liues amend.

He leapes off.
Enter a Messenger.
Messen.
It is the Councels pleasure master Shiriff,
The bodie be couaide to Shooters hill,
And there hung vp in Chaines.

Shiriff.
It shal be done.

Enter master Iames with the Minister.
M. Iam.
Why, then you are perswaded certainly,
That mistres Sanders is meere innocent?

Min.
That am I sir, euen in my verie soule,
Compare but all the likelihoodes thereof,
First hir most firme deniall of the fact,
Next mistres Druries flat confession,
That onely she and Roger did contriue
The death of master Sanders: then your selfe
Cannot but be of mine opinion.

M. Iam.
Then al you labour for,
Is that I should procure her pardon.

Min.
To saue an innocent,
Is the most Christian worke that man can do
Beside, if you performe it sir, sound recompence,
Shal quit your paines so well imployed herein.

M. Ia.
Now let me tell ye, that I am ashamde,
A man of your profession should appeare
So far from grace, and touch of conscience,
As making no respect of his owne soule,
He should with such audaciousnes presume
To baffle Iustice, and abuse the seate,
With your fond ouer-weening and slie fetch.
Thinke you the world discerneth not your drift?
Do not I know, that if you could preuaile,
By this far fetcht insinuation,
And mistris Sanders pardon thus obtainde,
That your intent is then to marry her?
And thus you haue abused her poore soule,
In trusting to so weake and vaine a hope.
Well sir, since you haue so forgot your selfe,
And (shamelesse) blush not at so bold offence:
Upon their day of execution,
And at the selfe same place, vpon a pillorie,
There shall you stand, that al the world may see,
A iust desert for such impietie.

Min.
Good sir heare me.

M. Ia.
I wil not heare thee, come and get thee hence,
For such a fault, too meane a recompence.

Exeunt.
Enter two Carpenters vnder Newgate.
Will.
Tom Peart my old companion? well met.

Tom.
Good morrow Wil Crow, good morrow, how dost?
I haue not seene thee a great while.

Will.

Wel I thank God, how dost thou? where hast thou
bin this morning so early?

Tom.

Faith I haue bin vp euer since three a clocke.

Will.

About what man?

Tom.

Why to make worke for the hangman: I and an
other haue bin setting vp a gallowes.

Will.

O for mistris Drewry, must she die to day?

Tom.

Nay I know not that, but when she does, I am

sure there is a gallowes big enough to hold them both.

Will.

Both whom? her man and her.

Tom.

Her man and her, and mistris Sanders too, tis a
swinger yfayth. But come Ile giue thee a pot this morning,
for I promise thee I am passing drie after my worke.

Will.

Content Tom, and I haue another for thee, and
afterward Ile go see the execution.

Tom.

Do as thou wilt for that.

Will.

But dost thou thinke it will be to day?

Tom.

I cannot tell, Smithfield is full of people, and
the Shiriffes man that set vs a worke told vs it would be to
day. But come shall we haue this Beere?

Will.

With a good will, leade the way.

Exeunt.
Enter Anne Sanders and her keeper following her.
Keeper.
Cal'd you mistres Sanders?

Anne.
Keeper I did:
I prethee fetch vp mistres Drurie to me,
I haue a great desire to talke with her.

Keeper.
She shall be brought vnto you presently.

Exit.
Anne.
Oh God, as I was standing at a grate,
That lookes into the streete, I heard men talke,
The execution should be done to day,
And what a paire of Gallowes were set vp,
Both strong and big enough to hold vs all:
Which words haue strucke such terror to my soule,
As I cannot be quiet till I know
Whether Nan Drurie be resolued still
To cleare me of the murder as she promist,
And here she comes: I prethee gentle Keeper,
Giue vs a little leaue we may conferre
Of things that neerly do concerne our soules.

Keep.
With al my hart, take time & scope enough.

Exit.
Dru.
Now mistris Sanders, whats your wil with me?

Anne.
Oh mistris Drury, now the houre is come
To put your loue vnto the touch, to try
If it be currant, or but counterfait.
This day it is appoynted we must die,
How say you then, are you stil purposed
To take the murder vpon your selfe?
Or wil you now recant your former words?

Dru.
Anne Sanders, Anne, tis time to turne the leafe,
And leaue dissembling, being so neere my death,
The like I would aduise your selfe to do.
We haue bin both notorious vile transgressors,
And this is not the way to get remission,
By ioyning sinne to sinne, nor doth t agree
With godly christians, but with reprobates,
And such as haue no taste of any grace,
And therefore (for my part) Ile cleere my conscience,
And make the truth apparant to the world.

Anne.
Will you proue then inconstant to your friend?

Dru.
Should I, to purchase safety for another,
Or lengthen out anothers temporall life,
Hazard mine owne soule euerlastingly,
And loose the endlesse ioyes of heauen,
Preparde for such as wil confesse their sinnes?
No mistris Sanders, yet there's time of grace,
And yet we may obtaine forgiuenes,
If we wil seeke it at our Sauiours hands.
But if we wilfully shut vp our hearts
Against the holy spirit that knockes for entrance
It is not this worlds punishment shal serue,
Nor death of body, but our soules shal liue
In endlesse torments of vnquenched fire.

Anne.
Your words amaze me, and although ile vow
I neuer had intention to confesse
My hainous sinne, that so I might escape
The worlds reproach, yet God I giue him thanks
Euen at this instant I am strangely changed,
And wil no longer driue repentance off,
Nor cloake my guiltinesse before the world:
And in good time see where the Doctor commes,
By whome I haue bin seriously instructed.

Doct.
Good morrow mistris Sanders, and soules health
Unto you both: prepare your selues for death,
The houre is nowe at hand, and mistris Sanders,
At length acknowledge and confesse your fault,
That God may be propitioner to your soule.

Anne.
Right reuerend sir, not to delude the world,
Nor longer to abuse your patience,
Here I confesse I am a grieuous sinner,
And haue prouok't the heauy wrath of God,
Not onely by consenting to the death
Of my late husband, but by wicked lust,
And wilful sinne, denying of the fault:
But now I do repent and hate my selfe,
Thinking the punishment preparde for me,
Not halfe seuere enough for my deserts.

Doct.
Done like a christian and the childe of grace,
Pleasing to God, to angels, and to men,
And doubt not but your soule shall finde a place
In Abrahams bosome, though your body perish.
And mistris Drewry, shrinke not from your faith,
But valiantly prepare to drinke this cup
Of sowre affliction, twill raise vp to you
A crowne of glory in another world.

Dru.
Good M. Doctor, I am bound to you,
My soule was ignorant, blind, and almost choak't
With this worlds vanities, but by your councell,
I am as well resolu'd to goe to death,
As if I were inuited to a banquet:
Nay such assurance haue I in the bloud
Of him that died for me, as neither fire,
Sword nor torment could retaine me from him.

Doctor.
Spoke like a champion of the holy Crosse.
Now mistris Sanders, let me tell to you:
Your children hearing this day was the last
They should behold their mother on the earth,
Are come to haue your blessing ere you dye,
And take their sorrowful farewel of you:

Anne.
A sorrowfull farewel t'wil be indeede
To them (poore wretches) whom I haue depriude,
Of both the natural succours of their youth:
But call them in, and gentle Keeper, bring me
Those bookes that lie within my chamber window.
Oh maister Doctor, were my breast transparent,
That what is figurde there, might be perceiu'd,
Now should you see the very image of poore
And tottred ruines, and a slaine conscience:
Here here they come beblind mine eyes with teares,
And soule and body now insunder part.

All.
Oh mother, mother.

Anne.
Oh my deare children!
I am vnworthy of the name of Mother.

All.
Turne not your face from vs, but ere you die,
Giue vs your blessing.

Anne.
Kneele not vnto me,
Tis I that haue deseru'd to kneele to you.
My trespas hath bereft you of a father,
A louing father, a kinde careful father,
And by that selfe same action, that foule deede
Your mother likewise is to go from you,
Leauing you (poore soules) by her offence,
A corasie and a scandall to the world.
But could my husband and your father heare me,
Thus humbly at his feete would I fal downe,
And plentifull in teares bewayle my fault.
Mercy I aske of God, of him, and you,
And of his kinred which I haue abusde,
And of my friends and kinred wheresoeuer,
Of whom I am ashamed and abasht,
And of al men and women in the world,
Whome by my foule example I haue grieu'd,
Though I deserue no pity at their hands,
Yet I beseech them all to pardon me,
And God I thanke that hath found out my sin,
And brought me to affliction in this world,
Thereby to saue me in the world to come.
Oh children learne, learne by your mothers fall
To follow vertue, and beware of sinne,
Whose baites are sweete and pleasing to the eie,
But being tainted, more infect than poyson,
And are farre bitterer than gall it selfe,
And li'ud in dayes where you haue wealth at wil,
As once I had, and are well matcht beside:
Content your selues, and surfet not on pride.

Enter Sheriffe bringing in Trusty Roger with holberds.
Sheriffe.
What M. Doctor, haue you made an end?
The morning is far spent, tis time to go.

Doct.
Euen when you wil, M. sheriffe, we are ready.

Anne.
Behold (my children,) I wil not bequeath,
Or gold or siluer to you, you are left
Sufficiently prouided in that poynt,
But here I giue to each of you a booke
Of holy meditations, Bradfords workes,
That vertuous chosen seruant of the Lord,
Therein you shalbe richer than with gold,
Safer than in faire buildings: happyer
Than al the pleasures of this world can make you.
Sleepe not without them when you go to bed,
And rise a mornings with them in your hands.
So God send downe his blessing on you al:
Farewel, farewel, farewel, farewel, farewel.
She kisses them one after another.
Nay stay not to disturbe me with your teares,
The time is come sweete hearts, and we must part,
That way go you, this way my heauie heart.

Exeunt.
Tragedie enters to conclude.
Tra.
Here are the launces that haue sluic'd forth sinne,
And ript the venom'd vlcer of foule lust,
Which being by due vengeance qualified,
Here Tragedie of force must needes conclude.
Perhaps it may seeme strange vnto you al,
That one hath not reuengde anothers death,
After the obseruation of such course:
The reason is, that now of truth I sing,
And should I adde, or else diminish aught,
Many of these spectators then could say,
I haue committed error in my play.
Beare with this true and home-borne Tragedie,
Yeelding so slender argument and scope,
To build a matter of importance on,
And in such forme as happly you expected.
What now hath faild, to morrow you shall see,
Perform'd by Hystorie or Comedie.

Exit.