rest, untill the day appeare.
At the Three Cranes,[9] in some Haye loft ile lye,
And waile my maisters comming miserie.

[Exit.

[SCENE IV.]

Enter Fallerio solus.

Fall. I have possession of my brothers goods;
His tennants pay me rent, acknowledge me
To be their Landlord; they frequent my house,
With Turkeys, Capons, Pigeons, Pigges and Geese,
And all to game my favour and goodwill.
His plate, his iewels, hangings, household stuffe,
May well beseeme to fit a demie King;
His stately buildings, his delightfull walkes,
His fertile meadowes, and rich ploughed lands,
His well-growne woods and stor'd fishing ponds,
Brings endlesse wealth, besides continuall helpe,
To keepe a good and hospitable house:
And shall I ioy these pleasures but a time?
Nay brother, sister, all shall pardon me,
Before ile sell my selfe to penurie.
The world doth know thy brother but resigned
The lands and goods untill his sonne attain'de
To riper years to weld [sic] and governe them.
Then openly thou canst not do him wrong,
He living: theres the burthen of the song.
Call it a burthen, for it seemes so great
And heavie burthen, that the boy should live
And thrust me from this height of happinesse,
That I will not indure so heavie waight,
But shake it off, and live at libertie,
Free from the yoake of such subjection.
The boy shall dye, were he my fathers sonne,
Before ile part with my possession.
Ile call my sonne, and aske his good advice,
How I may best dispatch this serious cause.—
Hoe, sir, Allenso!

Alle. Father.

Fall. Hearken, sonne.
I must intreate your furtherance and advise
About a thing that doth concerne us neere.
First tell me how thou doost affect in heart
Little Pertillo, thy dead Unckles sonne.

Allen. So well, good father, that I cannot tell,
Whether I love him dearer then my selfe;
And yet if that my heart were calde to count,
I thinke it would surrender me to death,
Ere young Pertillo should sustain a wrong.

Fall. How got his safetie such a deepe regarde Within your heart, that you affect it so?

Allen. Nature gave roote; love, and the dying charge,
Of his dead father, gives such store of sap
Unto this tree of my affection
That it will never wither till I dye.

Fall. But nature, love, and reason, tells thee thus, Thy selfe must yet be neerest to thyselfe.

Allen. His love dooth not estrange me from my selfe, But doth confirme my strength with multitudes Of benefits his love will yeelde to me.

Fall. Beware to foster such pernicious snakes Within thy bosome, which will poyson thee.

Allen. He is a Dove, a childe, an innocent, And cannot poyson, father, though he would.

Fall. I will be plainer: know, Pertillos life,
Which thou doost call a dove, an innocent,
A harmlesse childe, and, and I know not what,
Will harm thee more, than any Serpent can,
I, then the very sight of Basiliskes.

Allen. Father you tell me of a strange discourse. How can his life produce such detriment, As Basiliskes, whose only sight is death?

Fall. Hearken to me, and I will tell thee how;
Thou knowst his fathers goods, his houses, lands,
Have much advaunc'd our reputation,
In having but their usage for a time.
If the boy live, then like to sencelesse beasts,
Like longd-eard Asses and riche-laden Mules,
We must resign these treasures to a boye,
And we like Asses feede on simple haye:
Make him away, they shall continue ours
By vertue of his fathers Testament,—
The iewels, castles, medowes, houses, lands,
Which thy small cozen should defeate thee of,
Be still thine owne, and thou advance thy selfe,
Above the height of all thine Auncestours.

Allen. But if I mount by murther and deceite,
Iustice will thrust aspiring thoughts belowe,
And make me caper for to breake my neck,
After some wofull lamentation
Of my obedience to unlawfulnesse.
I tell you plaine, I would not have him dye,
Might I enjoy the Soldans Emperie.

Fall. What, wilt thou barre thy selfe of happinesse?
Stop the large streame of pleasures which would flowe,
And still attend on thee like Servingmen?
Preferre the life of him that loves thee not
Before thine owne and my felicitie?

Allen. Ide rather choose to feede on carefulnesse, To ditche, to delve, and labour for my bread, Nay rather choose to begge from doore to doore, Then condiscend to offer violence To young Pertillo in his innocence. I know you speake, to sound what mightie share Pertillo hath in my affection.

Fall. In faith I do not; therefore, prethie, say, Wilt thou consent to have him made away?

Allen. Why, then in faithe I am ashamde to think,
I had my being from so foule a lumpe
Of adulation and unthankfulnesse.
Ah, had their dying praiers no availe
Within your hart? no, damnd extorcion
Hath left no roome for grace to harbor in!
Audacious sinne, how canst thou make him say
Consent to make my brothers sonne away?

Fall. Nay if you ginne to brawle, withdrawe your selfe, But utter not the motion[10] that I made, As you love me, or do regarde your life.

Allen. And as you love my safetie and your soule, Let grace and feare of God, such thoughts controule.

Fall. Still pratling! let your grace and feare alone,
And leave me quickly to my private thoughts,
Or with my sword ile open wide a gate,
For wrath and bloudie death to enter in.

Allen. Better you gave me death and buriall, Then such foule deeds should overthrow us all.

Fall. Still are you wagging that rebellious tounge!
Ile dig it out for Crowes to feede upon,
If thou continue longer in my sight. [Exit Allenso.
He loves him better then he loves his life!
Heres repetition of my brothers care,
Of sisters chardge, of grace, and feare of God.
Feare dastards, cowards, faint hart runawayes!
Ile feare no coulours[11] to obteine my will,
Though all the fiends in hell were opposite.
Ide rather loose mine eye, my hand, my foote,
Be blinde, wante senses, and be ever lame,
Then be tormented with such discontent
This resignation would afflict me with.
Be blithe, my boy, thy life shall sure be done,
Before the setting of the morrowe sunne.
                                       [Exit.

Enter Avarice and Homicide bloody.

Hom. Make hast, runne headlong to destruction!
I like thy temper that canst change a heart
From yeelding flesh to Flinte and Adamant.
Thou hitst it home, where thou doost fasten holde;
Nothing can separate the love of golde.

Ava. Feare no relenting, I dare pawne my soule,
(And thats no gadge, it is the divels due)
He shall imbrew his greedie griping hands
In the dead bosome of the bloodie boy,
And winde himselfe, his sonne, and