To execute the like vpon thy selfe,
And so haue at thee.
SC. VIII. eah
Hen. Oh gratious God of heauen looke downe on vs,
And set some endes to these incessant griefes,
How like a mastlesse ship vpon the seas,
This woful battaile doth continue still,
5 Now leaning this way, now to that side driue,
And none doth know to whom the daie will fall.
[♦] O would my death might staie these ciuill iars!