All Consp. Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill him.
Draw both the Conspirators, and kils Martius, who falles, Auffidius stands on him
Lords. Hold, hold, hold, hold
Auf. My Noble Masters, heare me speake
1.Lord. O Tullus
2.Lord. Thou hast done a deed, whereat
Valour will weepe
3.Lord. Tread not vpon him Masters, all be quiet,
Put vp your Swords
Auf. My Lords,
When you shall know (as in this Rage
Prouok'd by him, you cannot) the great danger
Which this mans life did owe you, you'l reioyce
That he is thus cut off. Please it your Honours
To call me to your Senate, Ile deliuer
My selfe your loyall Seruant, or endure
Your heauiest Censure
1.Lord. Beare from hence his body,
And mourne you for him. Let him be regarded
As the most Noble Coarse, that euer Herald
Did follow to his Vrne
2.Lord. His owne impatience, Takes from Auffidius a great part of blame: Let's make the Best of it