_Will._ My master bloody?--
A dead man on the ground!--a knight of the road
by his looks-- [_Sees CROMWELL._]
What a grim stranger!

_Crom._ Sirrah! move
That carrion. [_WILLIAM going up to his Master._]

_Will._ Sir! I wait on this gentleman.
What a look! [_Aside._] I am sure he is either the
devil, or some great Christian. [_Aloud._] I will, my
Lord! [_Moves the body._] Come along! To think
now this dead, two-legged thing should have been
active enough just now to catch a four-footed live
deer. No sooner does a man die, but you would
think he had swallowed the lead of his coffin. Come
along! Lord! how helpless it is! Why, he shall no
more kick at his petty devouring, no, no more than if
he were a dead king! [_Exit with body, U.E.L._]

_Crom._ Ha! 'Tis well said.
Would that this blood had not been shed.
'Tis dreadful
To send a soul destroy'd to plead against
The frail destroyer. Yet I could not help it.
[_TO ARTHUR._]
How farest thou now?

_Arth._ Good sir, I thank you for