Sec. Cairl. Look on that bloody corse, so smear'd and mangled,
That it has lost all form of what it was;
It moves! it moves! there is life in it still.
First Cairl. Methought it spoke, but faint and low the sound.
Third Cairl. Ha! didst thou hear a voice? we'll go to it.
(pulling out a band or 'kerchief from his breast.)
It is some maiden's pledge.
Fallen Warriour. (making signs.) Upon mine arm, I pray thee, on mine arm.
Third Cairl. I'll do it, but thy wounds are past all binding.
Warriour. She who will search for me doth know this sign.
Third Cairl. Alack, alack! he thinks of some sad maid!
A rueful sight she'll see! He moves again:
Heaven grant him peace! I'd give a goodly sum
To see thee dead, poor wretch!
(Enter a Woman wailing and wringing her hands.)
Sec. Cairl. Ha! who comes wailing here?
Third Cairl. Some wretched mother who has lost her son:
I met her searching 'midst the farther dead,
And heard her piteous moan.
