The things we do!

As for our bodies, they shall be inter'd,
In ravening mawes, of Ravens, Puttockes, Crowes,
Of tatlin[g] Magpies, and deathes harbingers,
That wilbe glutted with winde-shaken limmes
Of blood-delighting hatefull murtherers.
And yet these many winged sepulchers,
Shall turne to earth, so I and father shall,
At last attaine to earth by funerall.
Well I will prosecute my pollicy,
That wished death may end my miseries.
[_Exit_.

[SCENE VII.]

_Enter Cowley and Williams_.
_Cow_. Still in your dumpes, good _Harry_? yet at last,
Utter your motive of this heavinesse.
Why go you not unto your maisters house?
What, are you parted? if that be the cause,
I will provide you of a better place.
_Wil_. Who roves all day, at length may hit the marke;
That is the cause,--because I cannot stay
With him whose love is dearer then my life.
_Cow_. Why fell you out? why did you part so soone?
_Wil_. We fell not out, but feare hath parted us.
_Cow_. What, did he feare your truth or honest life?
_Wil_.


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