_Rach_. Harke, brother, harke, me thinkes I here on[12] call.

_Mer_. Go downe and see; pray God my man keep close;
If he prove long-tongd then my daies are done.
The boy must die, there is no helpe at all;
For on his life my verie life dependes.
Besides I cannot compasse what I would,
Unlesse the boy be quicklie made away.
This that abridgde his haplesse maisters daies,
Shall leave such sound memorials one [_sic_] his head,
That he shall quite forget who did him harme,
Or train'd his master to this bloodie feast.--
Why, how now, _Rachell_? who did call below?

_Enter Rachell_.

_Rach_. A maide that came to have a pennie loafe.

_Mer_. I would a pennie loafe cost me a pound,
Provided _Beeches_ boy had eate his last.

_Rach_. Perchance the boy doth not remember you.

_Mer_. It may be so,--but ile remember him. [_To people_.
And send him quicklie with a bloodie scrowle,
To greete his maister in another world.

_Rach_. Ile go to _Beeches_ on a faind excuse,
To see if he will ask me for his maister.