Flor. Sir! it is enough, I have said that if you claim me in a month, I will be yours, if living—go! now, go!
Bas. Remember that his life alone I promise—
Flor. His life, his life! O God! Quick, save his life—
[He takes her hand, which he kisses; she withdraws it with an expression of pain. Exeunt, FLORENCE, L., BASIL, R.]
SCENE III.
[Last Cut.] [3rd Grooves.]
View of Westminster Abbey. Sunset.
Enter three or four Citizens, meeting severally.
1st Cit. The skies weep not, there is no shock to the earth.
Art thou not Peter Ingram? Yet the king
Hath been beheaded, lost his head!
The king
Of England murther'd, slain in open day!
2nd Cit. I did not think they would do it— Who'll be king Now he is dead?