Enter Boy.
Boy. I heard him groane and cry; I heard him fall sure.
O, there he lyes in his owne blood! ô father,
O my deare father, dead and bequeathd no blessing!
Why did I goe to bed, why was I heavy?
O, I will never sleep againe. The house there!
You that are verteous rise! you that have fathers!
Ho, Master Provost! ô my deerest father.
Some Surgeons, Surgeons!
Enter Provost & Servts.
Prov. 'Twas the Boyes voice, certaine.
Ser. What bloody sight is this? 'has killd himself: Dead, stone-cold dead; he needs no art of Surgeons.
Prov. Take of the Boy.
Boy. O let me dwell here ever.
Prov. This was a fatall stroak, to me a heavy,
For my remissnes wilbe loaden with it.
Bring in the Boy; ile to the State instantly;
Examine all the wounds and keep the knives;
The Boy fast too,—may be he knowes some circumstance.
Boy. O that I never knew againe.
Prov. In with it.