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[Alarum :--fight with single swords, and being deadly

wounded and panting for breath, making a stroke at each other with their gauntlets, they

fall. Hor. Both slain! Oh, noble Brutus, this thy fame To after ages shall survive; thy body Shall have a fair and gorgeous sepulchre : For whom the matrons shall in funeral black Mourn twelve sad moons; thou that first govern’d Rome, And sway'd the people by a consul's name. These bodies of the Tarquins we'll commit Unto the funcral pile : you, Collatine, Shall succeed Brutus in the consul's place, Whom with this laurel wreath we here create.

[crowns him with laurel. Such is the people's voice, accept it then.

Col. We do, and may our pow'r so just appear, Rome


have peace, both with our love and fear. But soft! what march is this?

[blocks in formation]

Por. The Tuscan king seeing the Tarquins slain,
Thus arm’d and battld, offers peace to Rome;
To confirm which, we'll give you present hostage ;
If you deny, we'll stand upon our guard,
And by the force of arms, maintain our own.

Val. After so much effusion and large waste
Of Roman blood, the name of peace is welcome :
Since of the Tarquins none remain in Rome,
And Lucrece' rape is now reveng’d at full,

'Twore good to entertain Porsenna's league.

Col. Porsenna we embrace, whose royal presence
Shall grace the consul to the funeral pile.

March on to Rome! Jove be our guard and guide!
That hath, in us, veng'd rape, and punish'd pride!





Printed by D. S. Maurice, Fenchurch-street.

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