o' the earth. His last offences to us Shall have judicious hearing. Stand, Aufidius, And trouble not the peace. O that I had him, With six Aufidiuses, or more, his tribe, To use my lawful sword! Insolent villain! Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill him! Hold, hold, hold, hold! My noble masters, hear me speak. O Tullus,-- Thou hast done a deed whereat valour will weep. Tread not upon him. Masters all, be quiet; Put up your swords. My lords, when you shall know--as in this rage, Provoked by him, you cannot--the great danger Which this man's life did owe you, you'll rejoice That he is thus cut off. Please it your honours To call me to your senate, I'll deliver Myself your loyal servant, or endure Your heaviest censure. Bear from hence his body; And mourn you for him: let him be regarded As the most noble corse that ever herald Did follow to his urn. His own impatience Takes from Aufidius a great part of blame. Let's make the best of it. My rage is gone; And I am struck with sorrow. Take him up. Help, three o' the chiefest soldiers; I'll be one. Beat thou the drum, that it speak mournfully: Trail your steel pikes. Though in this city he Hath widow'd and unchilded many a one, Which to this hour bewail the injury, Yet he shall have a noble memory. Assist.