HUSBAND.
Ha! I hear sounds of men, like hew and cry:
Up, up, and struggle to thy horse, make on;
Dispatch that little begger and all's done.

KNIGHT.
Here, this way, this way!

HUSBAND.
At my back? Oh,
What fate have I? my limbs deny me go,
My will is bated: beggery claims a part.
Oh, could I here reach to the infants heart.

[Enter Master of the College, 3. Gentlemen, and others with
Holberds.]

[Find him.]

ALL.
Here, here: yonder, yonder.

MASTER.
Unnatural, flinty, more than barbarous:
The Scythians or the marble hearted fates
Could not have acted more remorseless deeds
In their relentless natures, then these of thine:
Was this the answer I long waited on,
The satisfaction for thy prisoned brother?