For he was a man, this in respect a childe,
And men nere spend their furie on a child,
[♦] Whats worse then tyrant that I maie name,
You haue no children Deuils, if you had,
95 The thought of them would then haue stopt your rage,
But if you euer hope to haue a sonne,
Looke in his youth to haue him so cut off,
As Traitors you haue doone this sweet young prince.
Edw. Awaie, and beare her hence.
[100] Queen. Naie nere beare me hence, dispatch