hat have in purpose.

_Raph_. Dragge them boathe
Before the magistrate.

_Sarlab_. Mee? wherefore? why?

_Godf_. As his abettor and ill counseller:
One would have burnt the villadge, and the other
Threatned to fyar the cloyster.

_Raph_. Boathe acts capitall
And worthy seveare censure.

_Mild_. Though thou pleedst interest
In waye of earnest in _Palestra_, yet
Robb mee not quite, give me the tother backe,
My only portion left me by the sea
And stock to sett upp trade by.

_Scrib_. Rather torture mee
With any violent deathe.

_Tread_. Leive them in trust
And chardge of this grave reverent gentleman,
Untill you heire the sentence of the coort.

_Ashb_. I willingly accept theire patronadge:
Heere att my howse they shall have meate and harbour.

_Raph_. Nobly spoke:
Meane tyme hale these to'th coort.

_Mild_. My _Palestra_,
What? not one woord of pitye?

_Raph_. Stopp his mouthe.

_Mild_. My _Scribonia_,
Wilt thou intreate them neather?

_Tread_. Tyme's but trifled;
Away with them to justyce!

_Mild_. Take my skinne then,
Synce nothinge else is left mee.

_Clown_. That's rotten allredy and will neather
make goodd leather nor parchement ... theire.

[_Exeunt_.

_Ashb_. Com, damsalls, followe mee where I shall leade:
I have a cross wyfe at home I tell you that,
But one that I presume will not bee jealous
Of too such harmeles sowles.

_Pal_. You are to us
A patron and defender.

_Scrib_. Bounde unto you
Not as an host but father.

[_Exeunt_.

SCENA 3.

_Enter the Lord de Averne, his Lady,
Dennis and the waytinge mayde_.

_Lord Av_. Are all thinges redye as I gave in chardge?

_Denys_. Redy, syr.

_Lord Av_. Inoughe; and you deliver'd it
To his owne hands?

_Mayde_. I did.

_Lord Av_. Howe did hee tak't?

_Mayde_. With smiles and seeminge joy.

_Lord Av_. Sorrowe and shame
I feare will bee the sadd end on't.

_Lady Av_. Syr, you'r troubled.

_Lord Av_. I would not have you so; pray, to your rest;
You shall remove mee from all jelosyes
If you betake you to your sowndest sleeps,
And without more inquiry.

_Lady Av_. Syr, remember
That all offences are not woorthy deathe:
Fellowny, murder, treason and such lyke
Of that grosse nature maye be capitall;
Not folly, error, trespasse.

_Lord Av_. You advyse well,
Lett mee advyse you lyke-wyse: instantly
Retyre in to your chamber, without noyse
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