By this wee see, whoever has the worst, The fox fares well, but better when hees curst. Goe to and goe to then. Actus Quintus. Enter Lady Marlowe sola. Lady. Twas here about; these are the poplars, this The yewe he named. Who would Desire an easier wafting to their death Then through this River? what a pleasing sound Its liquid fingers, harping on the stones, Yeilds to th'admiring eare!

"Last nite I drem't of the cherchyarde at S. I satte under the olde yewe tree, as it semed in my dreme, and hurd a childes voice crying in a very piteous mannerr. The thort of this dreme has oppress'd my speritts all day, and Rebecka has enquier'd more than wunce wot ales me. If little M. but lay nere at hande, in ye graive to wich I fele I must soone be carrid, I beleive I shou'd be happyer.