_Hengo._ But my head, uncle! Methinks the rock goes round. _Enter, below_, MACER _and_ JUDAS, _Romans_. _Macer._ Mark them well, Judas. _Judas._ Peace, as you love your life. _Hengo._ Do not you hear The noise of bells? _Car._ Of bells, boy? 'tis thy fancy; Alas, thy body's full of wind! _Hengo._ Methinks, sir, They ring a strange sad knell, a preparation To some near funeral of state.--Nay, weep not, Mine own sweet uncle; you will kill me sooner. _Car._ Oh, my poor chicken! _Hengo._ Fie, faint-hearted uncle! Come, tie me in your belt, and let me down. _Car._ I'll go myself, boy. _Hengo._ No, as you love me, uncle; I will not eat it, if I do not fetch it; The danger only I desire: pray tie me. _Car._ I will, and all my care hang o'er thee! Come, child, My valiant child. _Hengo._ Let me down apace, uncle; And you shall see how, like a daw, I'll whip it From all their policies; for 'tis most certain A Roman train; and you must hold me sure too; You'll spoil all else. When I have brought it, uncle, We'll be as merry---- _Car._ Go, in the name of heaven, boy.-- [_Lets him down._ _Hengo._ Quick, quick, good uncle! I have it--Oh! [JUDAS _shoots_ HENGO. _Car._ What ailest thou? _Hengo._ Oh, my best uncle, I am slain! _Car._ I see you, And heaven direct my hand.-- [_He kills_ JUDAS _with a stone_. Destruction Go with thy coward soul!--How dost thou, boy?-- Oh villain, pocky villain! _Hengo._ Oh, uncle, uncle, Oh how it pricks me! Am I preserved for this? Extremely pricks me. _Car._ Coward, rascal coward! Dogs eat thy flesh! _Hengo._ Oh, I bleed hard! I faint too; out upon't, How sick I am!--the lean rogue, uncle! _Car._ Look, boy; I've laid him sure enough. _Hengo._ Have you knocked his brains out? _Car._ I warrant thee, for stirring more; cheer up, child. _Hengo._ Hold my sides hard; stop, stop; oh, wretched fortune, Must we part thus? Still I grow sicker, uncle. _Car._ Heaven look upon this noble child! _Hengo._ I once hoped I should have lived to have met these bloody Romans At my sword's point, to have revenged my father, To have beaten them. Oh hold me hard!--but, uncle-- _Car._ Thou shalt live still, I hope, boy. Shall I draw it? _Hengo._ You draw away my soul, then. I would live A little longer; spare me, heavens! but only To thank you for your tender love. Good uncle, Good noble uncle, weep not. _Car._ Oh my chicken, My dear boy, what shall I lose! _Hengo._ Why, a child That must have died however; had this 'scaped me, Fever or famine. I was born to die, sir. _Car._ But thus unblown, my boy?