Car. Heaven look upon this noble child!
Hengo. I once hoped
I should have lived to have met these bloody Romans
At my sword's point, to have revenged my father,
To have beaten them. Oh hold me hard!—but, uncle—
Car. Thou shalt live still, I hope, boy. Shall I draw it?
Hengo. You draw away my soul, then. I would live
A little longer; spare me, heavens! but only
To thank you for your tender love. Good uncle,
Good noble uncle, weep not.