Crom. Sirrah! move That carrion. [WILLIAM going up to his Master.]
Will. Sir! I wait on this gentleman. What a look! [Aside.] I am sure he is either the devil, or some great Christian. [Aloud.] I will, my Lord! [Moves the body.] Come along! To think now this dead, two-legged thing should have been active enough just now to catch a four-footed live deer. No sooner does a man die, but you would think he had swallowed the lead of his coffin. Come along! Lord! how helpless it is! Why, he shall no more kick at his petty devouring, no, no more than if he were a dead king! [Exit with body, U.E.L.]
Crom. Ha! 'Tis well said.
Would that this blood had not been shed.
'Tis dreadful
To send a soul destroy'd to plead against
The frail destroyer. Yet I could not help it.
[TO ARTHUR.]
How farest thou now?
Arth. Good sir, I thank you for My life so promptly sav'd—not courtesy, But breath did fall me.
Crom. 'Tis a fearful thing That I have done. A life! I might have struck Less fiercely. God forgive me for the deed. [To Arthur.] Would he have slain thee?
Arth. 'Twas a murderer Most double-dyed in blood. I heard them speak His guilt.—
Crom. O, I could weep! and yet his death Had the best reason for't. Whence comest thou, sir?
Arth. I am but late returned unto this land.
[Re-enter WILLIAM.]
Will. Yes! yes, from Italy, Rome, gracious sir! Us'd to these things, you see—