Waid in the other: and be reconcil'd
With all forgivenesse to your matchlesse wife.
Tam. Forgive thou me, deare servant, and this hand
That lead thy life to this unworthy end;125
Forgive it for the bloud with which 'tis stain'd,
In which I writ the summons of thy death—
The forced summons—by this bleeding wound,
By this here in my bosome, and by this
That makes me hold up both my hands embrew'd130
For thy deare pardon.