LUCIUS, MARCUS, and the Others descend.

Romans. Lucius, all haill Rome's gracious governor!

Luc. Thanks, gentle Romans: may I govern

80,

To heal Rome's harms, and wipe away her woe!
But, gentle people, give me aim awhile,
For nature puts me to a heavy task.

149

Stand all aloof; but, uncle, draw you near,
To shed obsequious tears upon this trunk. 152
O! take this warm kiss on thy pale cold lips,
[Kisses TITUS.

These sorrowful drops upon thy blood-stain'd
face,
The last true duties of thy noble son!

Mar. Tear for tear, and loving kiss for kiss, Thy brother Marcus tenders on thy lips: 157 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

160

To melt in showers: thy grandsire lov'd thee well:

168

Bid him farewell; commit him to the grave;
Do him that kindness, and take leave of him.
Boy. O grandsire, grandsire! even 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 choke me if I ope my mouth.

172

Re-enter Attendants, with AARON. First Rom. You sad Andronici, have done with woes:

Give sentence on this execrable wretch,
That hath been breeder of these dire events.

176

Luc. Set him breast-deep in earth, and famish him;

There let him stand, and rave, and cry for food:

180

If any one relieves or pities him,
For the offence he dies. This is our doom:
Some stay to see him fasten'd in the earth.
Aar. O! why should wrath be mute, and fury
dumb?

184

I am no baby, I, that with base prayers
I should repent the evils I have done.
Ten thousand worse than ever yet I did
Would I perform, if I might have my will: 188
If one good deed in all my life I did,
I do repent it from my very soul.

Luc. Some loving friends convey the em-
peror hence,

And give him burial in his father's grave. 192
My father and Lavinia shall forthwith
Be closed in our household's monument.
As for that heinous tiger, Tamora,
No funeral rite, nor man in mournful weeds, 196
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. 200
See justice done on Aaron, that damn'd Moor,
By whom our heavy haps had their beginning:
Then, afterwards, to order well the state,
That like events may ne'er it ruinate. [Exeunt.

7

Sam. Draw, if you be men.

member thy swashing blow.

Enter BENVOLIO.

65

Ben. I do but keep the peace: put up thy sword,

Or manage it to part these men with me.

Lady Mon. Thou shalt not stir one foot to seek a foe.

Enter PRINCE with his Train.

Prin. Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace, Profaners of this neighbour-stained steel,- 88 Will they not hear? What ho! you men, you

beasts,

That quench the fire of your pernicious rage
With purple fountains issuing from your veins,
On pain of torture, from those bloody hands 92
Throw your mis-temper'd weapons to the ground,
And hear the sentence of your moved prince.
Three civil brawls, bred of an airy word,
By thee, old Capulet, and Montague,
Have thrice disturb'd the quiet of our streets,
And made Verona's ancient citizens

96

100

104

Cast by their grave beseeming ornaments,
To wield old partisans, in hands as old,
Canker'd with peace, to part your canker'd hate.
If ever you disturb our streets again
Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace.
For this tirse, all the rest depart away:
You, Capulet, shall go along with me;
And, Montague, come you this afternoon
To know our further pleasure in this case,
To old Free-town, our common judgment-place.
Once more, on pain of death, all men depart. 109
[Exeunt all but MONTAGUE, LADY MON-
TAGUE, and BENVOLIO.

Mon. Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach?

76

As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee. Have at thee, coward!

But all so soon as the all-cheering sun
Should in the furthest east begin to draw
The shady curtains from Aurora's bed,
Away from light steals home my heavy son,
And private in his chamber pens himself,
Shuts up his windows, locks fair daylight out,
And makes himself an artificial night.
145
Black and portentous must this humour prove
Unless good counsel may the cause remove.

Ben. My noble uncle, do you know the cause?
Mon. I neither know it nor can learn of him.
Ben. Have you importun'd him by any
means?

180

184

Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms! Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick

152

Rom. Why, such is love's transgression. Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast, 192 Which thou wilt propagate to have it press'd With more of thine: this love that thou hast

shown

Mon. Both by myself and many other friends: But he, his own affections' counsellor, Is to himself, I will not say how true, But to himself so secret and so close, So far from sounding and discovery, As is the bud bit with an envious worm, Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air, Or dedicate his beauty to the sun.

156

Could we but learn from whence his sorrows

grow,

We would as willingly give cure as know. 160 Ben. See where he comes: so please you, step aside;

I'll know his grievance, or be much denied.