And let the man that calls it be the caller;
And, in his calling, let him nothing call,
But coach! coach! coach! Oh! for a coach, ye gods! [Exit raving.
Returns with a Doctor.
Bomb. How fares your majesty?
Doct. My lord, he's dead.
Bomb. Ha! dead! impossible! it cannot be!
I'd not believe it, tho' himself should swear it.
Go join his body to his soul again,
Or, by this light, thy soul shall quit thy body.