The Works of William Shakespeare [Cambridge Edition] [Vol. 5 of 9] · William Shakespeare
SCENE VIII.
Enter an other souldier with a dead man. _2. Soul._ Lie there thou that foughtst with me so stoutly, ·eah025· Now let me see what store of gold thou haste, But staie, me thinkes this is no famous face: Oh no it is my sonne that _I_ haue slaine in fight, O monstrous times begetting such euents, How cruel bloudy, and ironious, [eah030] This deadlie quarrell dailie doth beget, Poore boy thy father gaue thee lif too late, [eah032] And hath bereau’de thee of thy life too sone. _King_ Wo aboue wo, griefe more then common griefe, Whilst Lyons warre and battaile for their dens, ·eah035· Poore lambs do feele the rigor of their wraths: The red rose and the white are on his face, [eah037] The fatall colours of our striuing houses, Wither one rose, and let the other flourish, For if you striue, ten thousand liues must perish. ·eah040· _1. Sould._ How will my mother for my fathers death, Take on with me and nere be satisfide? _2. Sol._ How will my wife for slaughter of my son, [eah043] Take on with me and nere be satisfide? _King._ How will the people now misdeeme their king, ·eah045· Oh would my death their mindes could satisfie. _1. Sould._ Was euer son so rude his fathers bloud to spil? _2. Soul._ Was euer father so vnnaturall his son to kill?
_King._ Was euer king thus greeud and vexed still? _1. Sould._ Ile beare thee hence from this accursed place, ·eah050· For wo is me to see my fathers face. _Exit_ with his father. _2. Soul._ Ile beare thee hence & let them fight that wil, For _I_ haue murdered where I should not kill. [eah053] _Exit_ with his sonne. _K Hen._ Weepe wretched man, Ile lay thee teare for tear, Here sits a king as woe begone as thee. ·eah055· Alarmes and enter the _Queene_. _Queene._ Awaie my Lord to _Barwicke_ presentlie, The daie is lost, our friends are murdered, No hope is left for vs, therefore awaie. [eah058] Enter prince _Edward_. _Prince._ Oh father flie, our men haue left the field, Take horse sweet father, let us saue our selues. ·eah060· Enter _Exeter_. _Exet._ Awaie my Lord for vengeance comes along with him: [eah061] Nay stand not to expostulate make hast, Or else come after, Ile awaie before. _K Hen._ Naie staie good _Exeter_, for Ile along with thee. Enter _Clifford_ wounded with an arrow in his necke.
Text from Project Gutenberg, public domain in the United States.