And thinke it truth, for Truth dooth tell the tale.
Merry, by lawe convict as principall,
Receives his doome, to hang till he be dead,
And afterwards for to be hangd in chaines.
Williams and Rachell likewise are convict
For their concealment; Williams craves his booke[42]
And so receaves a brond[43] of infamie;
But wretched Rachels sexe denies that grace,
And therefore dooth receive a doome of death
To dye with him whose sinnes she did conceale. 
Your eyes shall witnesse of their shaded tipes,
Which many heere did see perform’d indeed. 
As for Fallerio, not his homelie weedes,
His beardlesse face, nor counterfetted speech,
Can shield him from deserved punishment;
But what he thinkes shall rid him from suspect,
Shall drench him in more waves of wretchednesse,
Pulling his sonne into relentlesse iawes,
Of hungrie death, on tree of infamie. 
Heere comes the Duke that doomes them both to die;
Next Merries death shall end this Tragedie.

[Exit.

[ACT THE FIFTH.]

[SCENE I.]

Enter Duke, Vesuvio, Turq., Alberto:  and Fallerio disguised.

Duke.  Where is that Syren, that incarnate fiend,
Monster of Nature, spectacle of shame,
Blot and confusion of his familie,
False-seeming semblance of true-dealing trust,
I meane Fallerio, bloody murtherer: 
Hath he confest his cursed treacherie,
Or will he stand to proove his innocence?

Vesu.  We have attach’de Fallerio, gracious lord,
And did accuse him with Pertillos death;
But he remote will not confesse himselfe
Neither the meanes nor author of the same. 
His mightie vowes and protestations
Do almost seeme to pleade integritie,
But that we all do know the contrarie.

Fall.—­I know your error stricks your knowledge blinde; His seeming me, doth so delude your minde. [(To the) People.

Duke.  Then bring him forth, to answer for himselfe, Since he stands stoutly to denie the deed: 

[Alberto and other fetch Alenso.

His sonne can witnesse that the dying man
Accusde Fallerio for his treacherie.—­
Stand forth thou close disguised hipocrite,
And speake directlie to these articles: 
First, didst thou hire two bloodie murtherers
To massacre Pertillo in a wood?

Alen.  I never did suborne such murtherers, But ever lov’d Pertillo as my life.

Duke.  Thy sonne can witnesse to the contrarie.

Alen.  I have no sonne to testifie so much.

Fal.—­No, for his gravitie is counterfeit, Pluck off his beard, and you will sweare it so.

Vesu.  Have you no sonne? doth not Alenso live?

Alen. Alenso lives, but is no sonne of mine.