My heart doth break in twain,
And I deplore, most woeful child, that I
should see you slain.
[Cambises, 445-448]
Neronis. Ah wofull sight, what is alas, with these mine eyes beheld,
That to my loving Knight belongd, I view the Golden Sheeld:
Ah heavens, this Herse doth signifie my Knight is slaine,
Ah death no longer do delay, but rid the lives of twaine:
Heart, hand, and everie sence prepare, unto the Hearse draw nie:
And thereupon submit your selves, disdaine not for to die