Car. This worthy Roman
Was such another piece of endless honor,
Such a brave soul dwelt in him: their proportions
And faces were not much unlik, boy, excellent nature,
See how it works into his eyes, mine own boy.
Heng. The multitudes of these men, and their fortunes,
Could never make me fear yet: one mans goodness—
Car. O now thou pleasest me: weep still, my child,
As if thou saw'st me dead; with such a flux
Or flood of sorrow: still thou pleasest me.
And worthy soldiers, pray receive these pledges,
These hatchments of our griefs, and grace us so much
To place 'em on his Hearse. Now if ye please,
Bear off the noble burden; raise his pile
High as Olympus, make heaven to wonder
To see a star upon earth out-shining theirs.
And ever loved, ever living be
Thy honoured and most sacred memory.
Dru. Thou hast done honestly, good Caratach,
And when thou diest, a thousand virtuous Romans
Shall sing thy soul to heaven. Now march on, soldiers.
[Exeunt. A dead march.
Car. Now dry thine eyes, my boy.
Heng. Are they all gone?
I could have wept this hour yet.
Car. Come, take cheer,
And raise thy spirit, child: if but this day
Thou canst bear out thy faintness, the night coming
I'll fashion our escape.
Heng. Pray fear not me;
Indeed I am very hearty.
Car. Be so still;
His mischiefs lessen, that controuls his ill. [Exeunt.