30 Peace with his soul, heaven, if it be thy will! [Exit.
Enter young CLIFFORD.
[♦] Y. Clif. Shame and confusion! all is on the rout;
Fear frames disorder, and disorder wounds
Where it should guard. O war, thou son of hell,
Whom angry heavens do make their minister,
35 Throw in the frozen bosoms of our part
[♦] Hot coals of vengeance! Let no soldier fly.
He that is truly dedicate to war
[♦] Hath no self-love, nor he that loves himself