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(A silent pause. Re-enter Ruffians bearing the body and laying it down before Ethw.)

Look here, my Lord, and be well satisfied:

It is his very face, tho' somewhat changed
With long confinement in these sickly damps,
And the convulsive throes of violent death.

Ethw. (first shrinking from it with horror, then commanding himself and looking upon it for some time stedfastly.)

Ay, changed indeed! and yet I know it well.

Changed indeed! Much he must needs have suffer'd
In his lone prison-house. Thou bruised flower!
And hast thou struggled all so bravely too
For thy most wretched life? Base bloody work!
Remove it from my sight. (turning hastily from it.)

Alwy. What farther orders would you give these men?

Ethw. Away! speak to me not! thou'st made me curs'd!
Would all the realm of Mercia I had lost
Ere it had come to this!
Once in the battle's heat I saved his life,

And he did bless me for it. (beating his forehead distractedly.)

Alwy. Nay good, my Lord! be not so keenly moved.
Where shall we lay the body?

Ethw. Thou and those fiends do with it as thou wilt:
It is a damned work!(Exit hastily.