As punishment for his moft wicked life.
Lucius, all hail, Rome's gracious governor!
Luc. Thanks, gentle Romans: may I govern fo,
To heal Rome's harm, and drive away her woe!
But, gentle people, give me aim awhile,
For nature puts me to a heavy task :

Stand all aloof; but, uncle, draw you near,
To shed obfequious tears upon this trunk :
Oh, take this warm kifs on thy pale cold lips,
These forrowful drops upon thy blood-ftain'd face;
The last true duties of thy noble son.

Mar. Ay, tear for tear, and loving kiss for kifs,
Thy brother Marcus tenders on thy lips:
O, were the fum of these that I should pay
Countless and infinite, yet would I pay them.

Luc. Come hither, boy; come, come, and learn of us
To melt in showers; thy grandfire lov'd thee well;
Many a time he danc'd thee on his knee;
Sung thee afleep, his loving breast thy pillow:
Many a matter hath he told to thee,

Meet and agreeing with thy infancy;
In that refpect then, like a loving child,
Shed yet fome small drops from thy tender fpring,
Because kind nature doth require it fo;

Friends fhould affociate friends, in grief and woe:
Bid him farewel, commit him to the grave;
Do him that kindness, and take leave of him.
Boy. O grandfire, grandfire! ev'n with all my heart,
Would I were dead, fo you did live again-
O Lord, I cannot fpeak to him for weeping-
My tears will choak me, if I ope my mouth.
Enter Romans with Aaron.

Rom. You fad Andronici, have done with woes:
Give sentence on this execrable wretch,

That hath been breeder of thefe dire events.

Luc. Set him breast-deep in earth, and famish him: There let him stand, and rave and cry for food: If any one relieves or pities him,

For the offence he dies: this is our doom.

Some

Some ftay to fee him faftned in the earth.
Aar. O, why should wrath be mute, and fury dumb!-
I am no baby, I, that with base prayers

I fhould repent the evil I have done :
Ten thousand worse, than ever yet I did,
Would I perform, if I might have my will:
If one good deed in all my life I did,

I do repent it from my very foul.

Luc. Some loving friends convey the Emp❜ror hence,
And give him burial in his father's grave.
My father and Lavinia shall forthwith
Be closed in our houfhold's monument:
As for that heinous tygrefs Tamora,

No funeral rites, nor man in mournful weeds,
No mournful bell fhall ring her burial;

But throw her forth to beafts and birds of prey;
Her life was beaft-like, and devoid of pity,
And, being fo, fhall have like want of pity.
See juftice done on Aaron that damn'd Moor,
From whom our heavy haps had their beginning;
Then afterwards, we'll order well the State;
That like events may ne'er it ruinate. [Exeunt omnes,

THE

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