Throw them my clothes! Throw them the spoils of my body!
For I strip myself since they have abandoned me. And to them revert the effects of the deceased.
Throw them the standard also. All the sky is my standard!
(They kneel all around him.
The Centurion: O King, pardon us!
First Captain: Pardon us, O King! And do not keep your anger against us, but pardon!
Second: Pardon us.
The King (stretching out his hand): Farewell, my friends!
The Centurion: Farewell, King of men!
Let me kiss you, royal hand! O fist more precious than a draught of water!