Tel. I am sad for thee, father, that thy return
Must be in battle, when thou shouldst have come
In peace and merriment: and for my mother
I grieve, that when her sorrow’s cause is fled,
Her joy must break so sternly: and for these halls
I mourn, that they must know the din of arms,
And bear the stain of life-blood. But not least
For these rash men I am sorry, who I know
In part deserve to die, and yet not all:
Being for the most of common parts, no ruder