His share will be of woe and misery:
But mothers feares do make these cares arise;
Come, boye, and close thy mothers dying eyes.
Brother and sister, here [_sic_] the latest words,
That your dead sister leaves for memory:
If you deale ill with this distressed boye,
God will revenge poore orphants iniuries,
If you deale well, as I do hope you will,
God will defend both you and yours from ill.
Farewell, farewell, now let me breath my last,
Into his dearest mouth, that wanteth breath,
And as we lov'd in life imbrace in death.
Brother and sister this is all I pray,
Tender my boye when we are laide in clay. [_Dyeth_.

_Allen_. Gods holy Angell guide your loving soules
Unto a place of endlesse happinesse.

_Sostr_. Amen, Amen. Ah, what a care she had
Of her small Orphant! She did dying pray,
To love her Childe when she was laide in claye.

_Scr_. Ah blame her not although she held it deare;
She left him yonge, the greater cause of feare.

_Fall_. Knew she my mind, it would recall her life, [_To the people_.
And like a staring Commet she would moove
Our harts to think of desolation.--
Scrivenor, have you certified the Will?