KING HENRY.
How will the country for these woeful chances
Misthink the King and not be satisfied!
SON.
Was ever son so rued a father’s death?
FATHER.
Was ever father so bemoaned his son?
KING HENRY.
Was ever king so grieved for subjects’ woe?
Much is your sorrow, mine ten times so much.
SON.
I’ll bear thee hence, where I may weep my fill.
[Exit with the body.]
FATHER.
These arms of mine shall be thy winding-sheet;
My heart, sweet boy, shall be thy sepulchre,
For from my heart thine image ne’er shall go.
My sighing breast shall be thy funeral bell;
And so obsequious will thy father be,
Even for the loss of thee, having no more,
As Priam was for all his valiant sons.
I’ll bear thee hence; and let them fight that will,
For I have murdered where I should not kill.
[Exit with the body.]
KING HENRY.
Sad-hearted men, much overgone with care,
Here sits a king more woeful than you are.
Alarums. Excursions. Enter Queen Margaret, Prince of Wales and Exeter.