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As punishment for his most wicked life.
Lucius, all hail, Rome's gracious governor !

Luc. Thanks, gentle Romans : may I govern so,
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 obsequious tears upon this trunk :
Oh, take this warm kiss on thy pale cold lips,
These sorrowful drops upon thy blood-stain's face;
The last true duties of thy noble son.

Mar, Ay, tear for tear, and loving kiss for kiss,
Thy brother Marcus tenders on thy lips:
O, were the sum 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;
Süng thee asleep, his loving breast thy pillow :
Many a matter hath he told to thee,
Meet and agreeing with thy infancy;
In that respect then, like a loving child,
Shed yet some small drops from thy tender spring,
Because kind nature doth require it so ;
Friends should 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, so you did live again
O Lord, I cannot speak 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 fentence on this execrable wretch,
That hath been breeder of these dire events.

Luc. Set him breast-deep in earth, and famish him:
There let him ftand, and rave and cry for food:
If any one relieves or pities him,
For the offence he dies : this is our doom.


Some stay to see him fastned in the earth.

Aar. O, why should wrath be mute, and fury dumb! I am no baby, I, that with base prayers I Mould 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 houshold's monument: As for that heinous tygress T'amora, No funeral rites, nor man in mournful weeds, No mournful bell shall ring her burial ; But throw her forth to beasts and birds of prey; Her life was beast-like, and devoid of pity, And, being so, shall have like want of pity. See justice 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 emines,

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