RACHEL

I come presently. My self was busy dressing up the house, As for your man he is not very well: But sitteth sleeping by the kitchen fire. Here it is brother, I pray you stay not long, Guess will come in, it's almost supper time. Ex. Ra. It was my brother, and a little man Of black complexion, but I know him not. I had forgotten, but I will bear one up. Exit up. The world does know thy brother but resigned, The lands and goods, until his son attain'de, To riper years to wielded and govern them, Then openly thou canst not do him wrong, He living: there's the burden of the song. Call it a burden, for it seems so great And heavy burden, that the boy should live, And thrust me from this height of happiness: That I will not endure so heavy weight, But shake it off, and live at liberty, Free from the yoke of such subjection, The boy shall die, were he my father's son, Before I'll partly with my possession. I'll call my son, and ask his good advice, How I may best dispatch this serious cause: Hoe sir Allens ? O my deer brother, what a heap of woe, Your rashness hath poured down upon your head: Where shall we hide this trumpet of your shame, This timeless ugly map of cruelty? Brother, if Williams do reveal the truth, Then brother, then, begins our scene of ruth. Hark brother, would ke, me thinks I here on call. Perchance the boy does not remember you. I'll go to Beeches on a feigned excuse, To see if he will ask me for his master. Brother, or that, or any thing beside, To please your mind, or ease your misery. Exit. Ah, do not so disconsolate your self, Nor add new streams of sorrow to your grief, Which Like a spring tide over-swells the banks, Least you do make and inundation, And so be born away with swiftest tides, Of all my friends Allenso loves me best. I brother, here it is, what is't to do? You cannot bear so great a weight your self, And it's no true ng of another man. O can you find in heart to cut and carve, His stone cold flesh, and rob the greedy graven, Of his dissevered blood besprinkled limbs? This deed is worse, the ̄ when ̄ you took his life. Exit. Where have you laid the legs & battered head? My heart will not endure to handle it, The sighed hereof does make me quake for fear. I fear thy soul will burr e in flames of hell, Unless repentance wash away thy sin, With cleansing tears of true contrition: Ah did not nature oversway my will, The world should know this plot of damned ill. Exit No gen le sir, my brother keeps no more. That fear is passed, I saw, I spoke with him, Yet he denies that I did buy the bag: Beside, the neighbours have no doubt of you, Saying you are and honest harmless man, And made enquiry here for fashion sake. When saw you Harry With liams ? Why brought you not the man along with you To come to dinner, that we might persuade Him to continue in his secrecy. What, did he swear? Pray God he do, and then I have no doubt, But God will overpass this grievous sin, If you lament with true unfeigned tears, And seek to live the remnant of your years, In Gods true fear with upright conscience. Rest still in calm secure tranquillity, And overblow this storm of mighty fear, With pleasant Gall of hoped n sse, Go when you will, I will ttend, and pray, To send this woeful night a cheer full day. Exeun . He's not within sir, would you speak with him? In deed good sir, he is in bed a sleep, And I was loath to trouble him to night. To prison sir, alas what have I done? I murdered, my brother knows that I Did not consent to either of their death's. Here in his bed, me thinks he's not a sleep. Ah brother woe is me, I do forgive you from my very soul, And think not that I shed these store of tears, For that I price my life, or fear to die, Though I confess the manner of my death, Is much more grieueuous then my death it self; But I lament for that it hath been said, I was the author of this cruelty, And did produce you to this wicked deed, Whereof God knows that I am innocent. I will not faint, but combat manfully, Christ is of power to help and strengthen me. I, so I do, and yet this sinful flesh, Will be rebellious gainst my willing spirit. Come let me climb these steps that led to heaven, Although they seem the stairs of infamy Let me be merror to ensuing times, And teach all sisters how they do conceal, The wicked deeds, of brothers, or of friends, I not repent me of my love to him, But that thereby I have provoked God, To heavy wrath and indignation, Which turn away great God, for Christ's sake. Ah Harry Williams, thou Wertenberg chiefest cause, That I do drink of this most bitter cup, For hadst thou opened Beeches death at first, The boy had lived, and thou hadst saved my life: But thou art bronded with a mark of shame, And I forgive thee from my very soul, Let him and me, learn all that hear of this, To utter brother's or their masters miss, Conceal no murder, least it do beget, More bloody deeds of Like deformity. Thus God forgive my sins, receive my soul, And though my dinner be of bitter death, I hope my soul shall sup with Jesus Christ, And see his presence everlastingly. Dyeth. O brother, brother, what have you done? What does the boy know whereabouts you dwell? A maid that came to have a penny loaf. What brother, have you killed Beeches boy? Where do you mean to leave the head and legs, But do it closely that you be not seen, For all this while you are without suspect. But I shall never think my self secure, Exit. This deed would trouble any quiet soul, To think thereof, much more to see it done, Such cruel deeds can never long be hid, Although we practice never so cunningly, Let others open what I do conceal, Lo he is my brother, I will cover it, And rather die then have it spoken rife, Lo where she goes, betrayed her brother's life. Exit They go about with that same Salters man, Of whom I bought the bag but yesterday, To see if he can know the maid again Which bought it, this I think the very cause. Here is the knife, I cannot stay to see, This barbarous deed of inhumanity. Exit Rachel. Ye glorious beams of that bright-shining lamp, That lights the star bespangled firmament, And dimness the glimmering shadows of the night, Why dost thou lend assistance to this wretch, To shamble forth with bold audacity, His limbs, that bears thy makers semblance. All you the sad spectators of this Act, Whose hearts do taste a feeling pensiveness, Of this unheard of savage Massacre: O be far of, to harbour such a thought, As this audacious murderer put in use, I see your sorrows flow up to the brim, And overflow your cheeks with brinish tears, But though this sighed bring surfeit to the eye, Delight your ears with pleasing harmony, That ears may countercheck your eyes, and say, Why shed you tears, this deed is but a play: His work is done, he seeks to hide his sin, I'll wail his woe, before his woe begin. Exit Truth.