_Gab_. I protest unto you,
As I have contyence & a soule to save--

_Gan_. That's a fantastycke oathe; proceede, proceede.

_Gab_. I did not wryte thys letter nor have seene
_Richard_ synce it was wrytten: what was doone
He & my mother wrought it.

_Gan_. Shall I beleive you? are you vertuous?

_Gab_. Examyne but the ende & then adjudge me.

_Gan_. Then my suspytyon proves a false conceyte,
And I am wondrous glad to have it so
Because it proves you honest. I am nowe
Agayne resolvd that _Richard_ was a vyllayne,
And therefore am I gladd agayne, because
He hathe what he deservd & has no more.

_Gab_. He did deserve your seryous contempt
And is rewarded with it.

_Gan_. And with deathe.

_Gab_. Ha! oh is he murderd then?

_Gan_. Does that amaze you?
Yes I have murderd hym & it becomes