Page 2937 - Shakespeare - Vol. 3

Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill him!

The Conspirators draw their swords, and kill Martius, who falls Aufidius
stands on him.

LORDS
Hold, hold, hold, hold!

AUFIDIUS
My noble masters, hear me speak.

FIRST LORD
O Tullus!

SECOND LORD

Thou hast done a deed whereat valour will weep.

THIRD LORD

Tread not upon him. Masters all, be quiet. [135]
Put up your swords.

AUFIDIUS
My Lords, when you shall know − as in this rage
Provoked 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 [140]
To call me to your Senate, I’ll deliver
Myself your loyal servant, or endure

Your heaviest censure.

FIRST LORD

Bear from hence his body,
And mourn you for him. Let him be regarded
As the most noble corse that ever herald [145]
Did follow to his um.

SECOND LORD