“Thy page in life’s great book is not foul charg’d,
“And like to ours besmear’d with dying breaths.
“O! had I lives myself enough to answer
“The ravenous and greedy jaws of death,
“That will on these, my friends, my soldiers,
“Such havoc make, and wanton gluttony!
“Father of mercy, spare, O! spare this blood!
“And if I must alone receive the crown,
“Bedeck’d with purple gore, I here resign it.”
[Exit.