That is no paine; death is a welcome guest
To those whose hearts are overwhelm'd with griefe.
My woes are done, I having leave to die
And after death live ever joyfullie. [_Exit_.

_Enter Murther and Covetousnesse_.

_Mur_. Now, _Avarice_, I have well satisfied
My hungrie thoughtes with blood and crueltie;
Now all my melanchollie discontent
Is shaken off, and I am throughlie pleas'd,
With what thy pollicie hath brought to passe.
Yet am I not so throughlie satisfied
Untill I bring the purple actors forth.
And cause them quaffe a bowle of bitternesse,
That father sonne, and sister brother may
Bring to their deathes with most assur'd decay.

_Ava_. That wilbe done without all question,
For thou hast slaine _Allenso_ with the boy,
And _Rachell_ doth not wish to overlive
The sad remembrance of her brothers sinne.
Leave faithfull love to teach them how to dye,
That they may share their kinsfolkes miserie.

[_Exeunt_.