Tyr. The tyrannous and bloody act is done; The most arch deed of piteous massacre, That ever yet this land was guilty of.

Clar. How darkly, and how deadly dost thou speak! Your eyes do menace me: why look you pale? Who sent you hither? wherefore do you come?

Son. Why do you look on us, and shake your head, And call us orphans, wretches, cast-aways, If that our noble father be alive?

Act II. Scene II.

Q. Mar. Cancel his bond of life, dear Gcd, I pray, That I may live to say,-The dog is dead!

Act IV. Scene IV.

Hast. Come, lead me to the block, bear him my head; They smile at me, who shortly shall be dead.

K. Rich. Give me another horse;-bind up my

wounds!

Have mercy, Jesu !-

Act V. Scene III.