Enter Old THORNEY, and WINNIFREDE weeping.

Thor. Here let our sorrows wait him; to press

nearer

The place of his sad death, some apprehensions May tempt our grief too much, at height already;

Daughter, be comforted.

Win. Comfort and I

Are too far separated to be join'd
But in eternity; I share too much
Of him that's going thither.

War. Poor woman, 'twas not thy fault; I grieve to see thee weep for him that hath my pity

too.

Win. My fault was lust, my punishment was

shame.

Yet I am happy that my soul is free

Both from consent, fore-knowledge, and intent,
Of any murther, but of mine own honour;
Restored again by a fair satisfaction,
And since not to be wounded.

Thor. Daughter, grieve not

For what necessity forceth;

Rather resolve to conquer it with patience.
Alas, she faints!

Win. My griefs are strong upon me;
My weakness scarce can bear them.-

[A great cry within.]--Away with her! Hang her, witch!

Enter to Execution Mother SAWYER; Officers with halberts, followed by a crowd of country people.

Car. The witch, that instrument of mischief! Did not she witch the devil into my son-in-law, when he kill'd my poor daughter? Do you hear, mother Sawyer?

Saw. What would you have?

Cannot a poor old woman have your leave

To die without vexation?

Car. Did not you bewitch Frank, to kill his He could never have done't without the

wife?

devil.

Saw. Who doubts it? but is every devil mine? Would I had one now whom I might command To tear you all in pieces! Tom would have

done't,

Before he left me.

Car. Thou didst bewitch Ann Ratcliffe to kill herself.

Saw. Churl, thou liest; I never did her hurt: would you were all as near your ends as I am, that gave evidence against me for it!

Coun. I'll be sworn, master Carter, she bewitch'd Gammer Washbowl's sow to cast her pigs a day before she would have farrowed: yet they were sent up to London, and sold for as good

Westminster dog-pigs, at Bartholomew-fair, as ever great-belly'd ale-wife longed for.

Saw. These dogs will mad me; I was well resolv'd

To die in my repentance. Though 'tis true
I would live longer if I might, yet since
I cannot, pray torment me not; my conscience
Is settled as it shall be: all take heed

How they believe the devil; at last he'll cheat

you.

Car. Thou'dst best confess all truly.

Saw. Yet again?

Have I scarce breath enough to say my prayers,

And would you force me to spend that in bawling? Bear witness, I repent all former evil;

There is no damned conjuror like the devil.

All. Away with her, away!

[She is led off.

Enter FRANK to Execution, Officers, &c.

Thor. Here's the sad object which I yet must

meet

With hope of comfort, if a repentant end

Make him more happy than misfortune would
Suffer him here to be.

Frank. Good sirs, turn from me;

You will revive affliction almost kill'd

With my continual sorrow.

Thor. Oh, Frank, Frank!

Would I had sunk in mine own wants, or died But one bare minute ere thy fault was acted! Frank. To look upon your sorrows executes

me,

Before my execution.

Win. Let me pray you, sir

Frank. Thou much-wrong'd woman, I must sigh for thee,

As he that's only loath to leave the world
For that he leaves thee in it unprovided,
Unfriended; and for me to beg a pity
From any man to thee when I am gone,
Is more than I can hope; nor, to say truth,
Have I deserv'd it: but there is a payment
Belongs to goodness from the great Exchequer
Above; it will not fail thee, Winnifrede';
Be that thy comfort.

Thor. Let it be thine too.

Untimely lost young man.

Frank He is not lost,

Who bears his peace within him: had I

spun

My web of life out at full length, and dream'd
Away my many years in lusts, in surfeits,
Murthers of reputations, gallant sins
Commended or approved; then, though I had
Died easily, as great and rich men do,
Upon my own bed, not compell'd by justice,
You might have mourn'd for me indeed; my
miseries

Had been as everlasting, as remediless :

But now the law hath not arraign'd, condemn'd,

With greater rigour my unhappy fact,
Than I myself have every little sin

My memory can reckon from my childhood:
A court hath been kept here, where I am found
Guilty; the difference is, my impartial judge

Is much more gracious than my faults are mon

strous

*** to be nam'd; yet they are monstrous. Thor. Here's comfort in this penitence.

Win. It speaks

How truly you are reconciled, and quickens
My dying comfort, that was near expiring

With my last breath: now this repentance makes

thee

As white as innocence; and my first sin with

thee,

Since which I knew none like it, by my sorrow
Is clearly cancell'd. Might our souls together
Climb to the height of their eternity,

And there enjoy what earth denied us, happiness!
But since I must survive, and be the monument
Of thy loved memory, I will
I will preserve it

With a religious care, and pay thy ashes

A widow's duty, calling that end best,

Which, though it stain the name, makes the soul

blest.

Frank. Give me thy hand, poor woman; do

not weep:

Farewell! thou dost forgive me?

Win. 'Tis my part

To use that language.