Original Text

Modern Text

Exeunt EXTON and his men
EXTON and his men exit.
45Lords, I protest, my soul is full of woe,
That blood should sprinkle me to make me grow:
Come, mourn with me for that I do lament,
And put on sullen black incontinent:
I’ll make a voyage to the Holy Land,
50To wash this blood off from my guilty hand:
March sadly after; grace my mournings here;
In weeping after this untimely bier.
Lords, I protest. My soul is full of sorrow that blood has been shed to make me more secure. Come, mourn with me and dress yourselves in black immediately. I’ll travel to the Holy Land to wash away this blood from my guilty hands. March sadly behind me, and weep for this untimely death.
They exit.

Popular pages: Richard II