No keyword-matching excerpt could be extracted (the cluster label doesn't share vocabulary with this character's speech).
Full speech
Ill blows the wind that profits no body, This man whom hand to hand I slew in fight, May be possessed with some store of Crowns, And I that (haply) take them from him now, May yet (ere night) yield both my Life and them To some man else, as this dead man does me. Who's this? O God! It is my Father's face, Whom in this Conflict, I (unwares) have killed: O heavy times! begetting such Events. From London, by the King was I pressed forth, My Father being the Earl of Warwick's man, Came on the partly of York, pressed by his Master: And I, who at his hands received my life, Have by my hands, of Life bereaved him. Pardon me God, I knew not what I did: And pardon Father, for I knew not thee. My Tears shall wipe away these bloody marks: And no more words, till they have flowed their fill. How will my Mother, for a Father's death Take on with me, and never be satisfied? Was ever son, so rued a Father's death? I'll bear thee hence, where I may weep my fill.