Stain all your edges in me.-Boy! False hound! Auf. Why, noble lords, Will you be put in mind of his blind fortune, Which was your fhame, by this unholy braggart, 'Fore your own eyes and ears? All Con. Let him die for't. All People. Tear him to pieces, do it presently. [The Crowd fpeak promifcuously. He kill'd my fon,-my daughter,-he kill'd my coufin Marcus. He kill'd my father. 2 Lord. Peace, ho!-no outrage ;—peace.— The man is noble, and his fame folds in This orb o'the earth :[8] His laft offences to us And trouble not the peace. Cor. O, that I had him, With fix Aufidiufes, or more, his tribe, To ufe my lawful fword, Auf. Infolent villain ! All Con. Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill him. [AUFIDIUS and the Confpirators draw, and kill MARCIUS, who falls, and AUFIDIUS ftands on him. Lords. Hold, hold, hold, hold. Auf. My noble masters, hear me speak. 1 Lord. O Tullus, 2 Lord. Thou haft done a deed, whereat Valour will weep. 3 Lord. Tread not upon him.-Masters all, be quiet; Put up your fwords. Auf. My lords, when you shall know (as in this rage, Provok'd by him, you cannot) the great danger Which this man's life did owe you, you'll rejoice That he is thus cut off. Please it your honours To call me to your fenate, I'll deliver Myfelf your loyal fervant, or endure Your heaviest cenfure. [8] His fame overspreads the world. JOHNS. I Lord. Bear from hence his body, And mourn you for him: Let him be regarded Did follow to his urn. 2 Lord. His own impatience Takes from Aufidius a great part of blame, Auf. My rage is gone, And I am ftruck with forrow. Take him up:→ Affift. [Exeunt, bearing the Body of MARCIUS. A dead March founded. |