Sung thee asleep, his loving breast thy pillow; 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. Enter Attendants, with Aaron. • 1 Rom. You sad Andronici, have done with woes; Give sentence on this execrable wretch, That hath been breeder of these dire events. Luc. Set him breast-deep in earth, and famislı him; There let him stand, and rave and cry for food: For the offence he dies. This is our doom: Aar. O, why should wrath be mute, and fury dumb? I am no baby, I, that, with base prayers, If one good deed in all my life I did, Luc. Some loving friends convey the emperor hence, And give him burial in his father's grave: No funeral rite, nor man in mournful weeds, [Exeunt. |