With rape, extortion, murther, or the death
Of friend or foe, to gaine an Empery.
I cannot glut my blood-delighted eye
With mangled bodies which do gaspe and grone,
Readie to passe to faire Elizium,
Nor bath my greedie handes in reeking blood
Of fathers by their children murthered:
When all men else do weepe, lament and waile,
The sad exploites of fearefull tragedies,
It glads me so, that it delightes my heart,
To ad new tormentes to their bleeding smartes.

_Enter Avarice_.

But here comes _Avarice_, as if he sought,
Some busie worke for his pernicious thought:
Whether so fast, all-griping _Avarice_?

_Ava_. Why, what carst thou? I seeke for one I misse.

_Ho_. I may supplie the man you wish to have.

_Ava_. Thou seemes to be a bold audatious knave;
I doe not like intruding companie,
That seeke to undermine my secrecie.

_Ho_. Mistrust me not; I am thy faithfull friend.

_Ava_. Many say so, that prove false in the end.