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E'en with the death's wound gor'd. O horrid, horrid! Methinks I feel him still.—What sound is that? I heard a smother'd groan.—It is impossible! (Looking steadfastly at the body.) It moves! it moves! the cloth doth heave and swell. It moves again.—I cannot suffer this— Whate'er it be I will uncover it. All still beneath. Nought is there here but fix'd and grizly death. How sternly fixed! Oh! those glazed eyes! They look me still. (Shrinks back with horrour.) Come, madness! come unto me senseless death! I cannot suffer this! Here, rocky wall, Scatter these brains, or dull them.

1st Monk. See; wretched man, he hath destroy'd himself.

2d Monk. He does but faint. Let us remove him hence.

1st Monk. We did not well to leave him here alone.

2d Monk. Come, let us bear him to the open air.

bearing out De Monfort.