Tit. Thanks, gentle tribune, noble brother Marcus.

Marc. And welcome, nephews, from successful

wars,

You that survive, and you that sleep in fame:
Fair lords, your fortunes are alike in all,

That in your country's service drew your swords.
But safer triumph is this funeral pomp,
That hath aspir'd to Solon's happiness,
And triumphs over chance in honour's bed.
Titus Andronicus, the people of Rome,
Whose friend in justice thou hast ever been,
Send thee by me, their tribune and their trust,
This palliament of white and spotless hue,
And name thee in election for the empire,
With these our late deceased emperor's sons:
Be candidatus then, and put it on,
And help to set a head on headless Rome.

Tit. A better head her glorious body fits,
Than his that shakes for age and feebleness.
What! should I don this robe, and trouble you?
Be chosen with proclamations to-day,
To-morrow yield up rule, resign my life,
And set abroad new business for you all?
Rome, I have been thy soldier forty years,
And led my country's strength successfully,
And buried one-and-twenty valiant sons,
Knighted in field, slain manfully in arms,
In right and service of their noble country;
Give me a staff of honour for mine age,
But not a sceptre to control the world!
Upright he held it, lords, that held it last.

Marc. Titus, thou shalt obtain and ask the empery.

Sat. Proud and ambitious tribune, canst thou tell?

Bass. Andronicus, I do not flatter thee, But honour thee, and will do till I die:

My faction if thou strengthen with thy friends,

I will most thankful be, and thanks to men

Of noble minds is honourable meed.

Tit. People of Rome, and people's tribunes here,

I ask your voices and your suffrages;

Will you bestow them friendly on Andronicus?
Tribunes. To gratify the good Andronicus,
And gratulate his safe return to Rome,
The people will accept whom he admits.

Tit. Tribunes, I thank you: and this suit I make,

That you create your emperor's eldest son,
Lord Saturnine, whose virtues will, I hope,
Reflect on Rome as Titan's rays on earth,
And ripen justice in this commonweal:
Then, if you will elect by my advice,
Crown him, and say, "Long live our emperor!"
Marc. With voices and applause of every sort,
Patricians, and plebeians, we create
Lord Saturninus Rome's great emperor;
And say, "Long live our emperor, Saturnine !"
[A long flourish, till they come down.

Sat. Titus Andronicus, for thy favours done
To us in our election this day,

I give thee thanks in part of thy deserts,
And will with deeds requite thy gentleness:
And for an onset, Titus, to advance
Thy name, and honourable family,
Lavinia will I make my empress,

Rome's royal mistress, mistress of my heart,
And in the sacred Pantheon her espouse:
Tell me, Andronicus, doth this motion please thee?
Tit. It doth, my worthy lord; and in this match
I hold me highly honour'd of your grace.
And here, in sight of Rome, to Saturnine,
King and commander of our commonweal,
The wide world's emperor, do I consecrate
My sword, my chariot, and my prisoners,—
Presents well worthy Rome's imperial lord:
Receive them then, the tribute that I owe,
Mine honour's ensigns humbled at thy feet.

Sat. Thanks, noble Titus, father of my life!
How proud I am of thee, and of thy gifts,
Rome shall record; and when I do forget
The least of these unspeakable deserts,
Romans, forget your fealty to me.

peror;

Tit. Now, madam, are you prisoner to an em[TO TAMORA. To him that, for your honour and your state, Will use you nobly, and your followers.

Sat. A goodly lady, trust me, of the hue
That I would choose, were I to choose anew:
Clear up, fair queen, that cloudy countenance:
Though chance of war hath wrought this change of
cheer,

Thou com'st not to be made a scorn in Rome :
Princely shall be thy usage every way.
Rest on my word, and let not discontent
Daunt all your hopes: madam, he comforts you
Can make you greater than the queen of Goths;
Lavinia, you are not displeas'd with this?

Lav. Not I, my lord, sith true nobility
Warrants these words in princely courtesy.

Sat. Thanks, sweet Lavinia. Romans, let us go:

Ransomless here we set our prisoners free. Proclaim our honours, lords, with trump and drum. [The Emperor courts TAMORA in aumb show. Bass. Lord Titus, by your leave, this maid is mine. [Seizing LAVINIA. Tit. How, sir? are you in earnest then, my lord? Bass. Ay, noble Titus, and resolv'd withal

To do myself this reason and this right

Marc. Suum cuique is our Roman justice : This prince in justice seizeth but his own.

Luc. And that he will and shall, if Lucius live. Tit. Traitors, avaunt! where is the emperor's guard?

Treason, my lord! Lavinia is surpris'd.

Sat. Surpris'd! by whom?

Bass.

By him that justly may Bear his betroth'd from all the world away. [Exeunt MARCUs, and Bassianus, with LAVINIA. Mut. Brothers, help to convey her hence away, And with my sword I'll keep this door safe.

[Exeunt LUCIUS, QUINTUS, and MARTIUS, Tit. Follow, my lord, and I'll soon bring her back.

Mut. My lord, you pass not here.

Tit. What! villain boy, barr'st me my way in
Rome?
Mut. Help, Lucius, help!

[TITUS kills him.

Re-enter LUCIUS.

Luc. My lord, you are unjust, and more than so; In wrongful quarrel you have slain your son.

Tit. Nor thou, nor he, are any sons of mine:
My sons would never so dishonour me.
Traitor, restore Lavinia to the emperor.

Luc. Dead, if you will, but not to be his wife,
That is another's lawful promis'd love.

[Exit. Enter aloft the EMPEROR, with TAMORA, and her two Sons, and AARON the Moor.

Sat. No, Titus, no; the emperor needs her not, Nor her, nor thee, nor any of thy stock: I'll trust, by leisure, him that mocks me once; Thee never, nor thy traitorous haughty sons, Confederates all, thus to dishonour me.

Was none in Rome to make a stale but Saturnine?
Full well, Andronicus,

Agree these deeds with that proud brag of thine,
That said'st, I begg'd the empire at thy hands.
Tit. O monstrous! what reproachful words are
these?

Sat. But go thy way; go, give that changing piece

To him that flourish'd for her with his sword:
A valiant son-in-law thou shalt enjoy ;
One fit to bandy with thy lawless sons,
To ruffle in the commonwealth of Rome.

Tit. These words are razors to my wounded
heart.

Sat. And therefore, lovely Tamora, queen of
Goths,

That, like the stately Phoebe 'mongst her nymphs,
Dost overshine the gallant'st dames of Rome,
If thou be pleas'd with this my sudden choice
Behold I choose thee, Tamora, for my bride,
And will create thee empress of Rome.

Speak, queen of Goths; dost thou applaud my

choice?

swear,

If Saturnine advance the queen of Goths,
She will a handmaid be to his desires,
A loving nurse, a mother to his youth.

Sat. Ascend, fair queen, Pantheon: Lords, accompany

Your noble emperor and his lovely bride,
Sent by the heavens for prince Saturnine,
Whose wisdom hath her fortune conquered:
There shall we consummate our spousal rites.

[Exeunt SATURNINUS and his Followers;
TAMORA, and her Sons; AARON, and
Goths.

Tit. I am not bid to wait upon this bride;-
Titus, when wert thou wont to walk alone,
Dishonour'd thus, and challenged of wrongs?

Re-enter MARCUS, LUCIUS, QUINTUS, and
MARTIUS.

Marc. O, Titus, see! O see what thou hast done! In a bad quarrel slain a virtuous son.

Tit. No, foolish tribune, no: no son of mine,Nor thou, nor these, confederates in the deed That hath dishonour'd all our family; Unworthy brother, and unworthy sons!

Luc. But let us give him burial as becomes: Give Mutius burial with our brethren.

Tit. Traitors, away! he rests not in this tomb: This monument five hundred years hath stood, Which I have sumptuously re-edified:

Here none but soldiers, and Rome's servitors,
Repose in fame: none basely slain in brawls:
Bury him where you can; he comes not here.
Marc. My lord, this is impiety in you:
My nephew Mutius' deeds do plead for him:
He must be buried with his brethren.

Quint., Mart. And shall, or him we will accom

Tit. What! would you bury him in my despite? Marc. No, noble Titus; but entreat of thee

To pardon Mutius, and to bury him.

Tit. Marcus, even thou hast struck upon my crest, And with these boys mine honour thou hast wounded:

My foes I do repute you every one.

So trouble me no more, but get you gone.
Mart. He is not with himself; let us withdraw.
Quint. Not I, till Mutius' bones be buried.

[The Brother and the Sons kneel. Marc. Brother, for in that name doth nature plead.

Quint. Father, and in that name doth nature speak.

Tit. Speak thou no more, if all the rest will speed. Marc. Renowned Titus, more than half my soul! Luc. Dear father, soul and substance of us all! Marc. Suffer thy brother Marcus to inter His noble nephew here in virtue's nest, That died in honour and Lavinia's cause. Thou art a Roman, be not barbarous : The Greeks, upon advice, did bury Ajax, That slew himself: and wise Laertes' son Did graciously plead for his funerals: Let not young Mutius then, that was thy joy, Be barr'd his entrance here.

The dismall'st day is this that e'er I saw,
To be dishonour'd by my sons in Rome:
Well, bury him, and bury me the next.

[They put MUTIUS in the Tomb. Luc. There lie thy bones, sweet Mutius, with thy friends,

Till we with trophies do adorn thy tomb.

[They all kneel and say,

No man shed tears for noble Mutius;
He lives in fame that died in virtue's cause.
[Exeunt all but MARCUS and TITUS.
Marc. My lord,-to step out of these dreary
dumps,-

How comes it that the subtle queen of Goths
Is of a sudden thus advanc'd in Rome?

Tit. I know not, Marcus: but I know it is;
Whether by device, or no, the heavens can tell;
Is she not then beholding to the man
That brought her for this high good turn so far?
Yes; and will nobly him remunerate.

Enter the EMPEROR, TAMORA, and her two Sons, with the Moor, at one side; enter at the other side, BASSIANUS, and LAVINIA, with others.

Sat. So, Bassianus, you have play'd your prize! God give you joy, sir, of your gallant bride!

Bass. And you of yours, my lord. I say no more, Nor wish no less; and so I take my leave.

Sat. Traitor, if Rome have law, or we have power, Thou and thy faction shall repent this rape.

Bass. Rape call you it, my lord, to seize my own, My true betrothed love, and now my wife? But let the laws of Rome determine all; Meanwhile I am possess'd of that is mine.

Sat. 'Tis good, sir; you are very short with us; But, if we live, we'll be as sharp with you.

Bass. My lord, what I have done, as best I may
Answer I must, and shall do with my life.
Only thus much I give your grace to know:
By all the duties that I owe to Rome,
This noble gentleman, lord Titus here,
Is in opinion and in honour wrong'd,
That, in the rescue of Lavinia,

With his own hand did slay his youngest son,
In zeal to you, and highly mov'd to wrath,
To be controll'd in that he frankly gave.
Receive him, then, to favour, Saturnine,
That hath express'd himself, in all his deeds,
A father and a friend to thee and Rome.

Tit. Prince Bassianus, leave to plead my deeds: 'Tis thou, and those, that have dishonour'd me. Rome, and the righteous heavens, be my judge, How I have lov'd and honour'd Saturnine.

Tam. My worthy lord, if ever Tamora
Were gracious in those princely eyes of thine,
Then hear me speak, indifferently for all:
And at my suit, sweet, pardon what is past.

Sat. What, madam! be dishonour'd openly,
And basely put it up without revenge?

Tam. Not so, my lord; the gods of Rome forfend I should be author to dishonour you. But on mine honour, dare I undertake For good lord Titus' innocence in all; Whose fury not dissembled speaks his griefs: Then, at my suit, look graciously on him: Lose not so noble a friend on vain suppose; Nor with sour looks afflict his gentle heart. My lord, be rul'd by me, be won at last; Dissemble all your griefs and discontents: You are but newly planted in your throne; Lest then the people, and patricians too, Upon a just survey take Titus' part, And so supplant us for ingratitude, Which Rome reputes to be a heinous sin, Yield at entreats, and then let me alone:

I'll find a day to massacre them all;
And raze their faction and their family,
The cruel father, and his traitorous sons,
To whom I sued for my dear son's life;
And make them know, what 'tis to let a queen
Kneel in the streets, and beg for grace in vain.

[The preceding fourteen lines are spoken aside. Come, come, sweet emperor; come, Andronicus; Take up this good old man, and cheer the heart That dies in tempest of thy angry frown.

King. Rise, Titus, rise; my empress hath prevail'd.

Tit. I thank your majesty, and her, my lord. These words, these looks, infuse new life in me. Tam. Titus, I am incorporate in Rome, A Roman now adopted happily, And must advise the emperor for his good. This day all quarrels die, Andronicus; And let it be mine honour, good my lord, That I have reconcil'd your friends and you. For you, prince Bassianus, I have pass'd My word and promise to the emperor, That you will be more mild and tractable : And fear not, lords: and you, Lavinia, By my advice, all humbled on your knees, You shall ask pardon of his majesty.

Luc. We do; and vow to heaven, and to his highness,

That what we did was mildly, as we might,
Tend'ring our sister's honour and our own.

Marc. That on mine honour here I do protest.
Sat. Away, and talk not; trouble us no more.-
Tam. Nay, nay, sweet emperor, we must all be
friends:

The tribune and his nephews kneel for grace;
I will not be denied. Sweet heart, look back.
Sat. Marcus, for thy sake, and thy brother's here,
And at my lovely Tamora's entreats,

I do remit these young men's heinous faults.
Stand up. Lavinia, though you left me like a churl,
I found a friend: and sure as death I sware,

I would not part a bachelor from the priest.
Come, if the emperor's court can feast two brides,
You are my guest, Lavinia, and your friends:
This day shall be a love-day, Tamora.

Tit. To-morrow, an it please your majesty,
To hunt the panther and the hart with me,
With horn and hound, we'll give your grace bon-jour.
Sat. Be it so, Titus, and gramercy too. [Exeunt.

17

Aaron. Now climbeth Tamora Olympus' top,
Safe out of Fortune's shot; and sits aloft,
Secure of thunder's crack or lightning flash,
Advanc'd above pale envy's threat'ning reach:
As when the golden sun salutes the morn,
And, having gilt the ocean with his beams,
Gallops the zodiac in his glistering coach,
And overlooks the highest peering hills;
So Tamora.

Upon her wit doth earthly honour wait,
And virtue stoops and trembles at her frown.
Then, Aaron, arm thy heart and fit thy thoughts,
To mount aloft with thy imperial mistress,
And mount her pitch, whom thou in triumph long
Hast prisoner held, fetter'd in amorous chains,
And faster bound to Aaron's charming eyes
Than is Prometheus tied to Caucasus.
Away with slavish weeds and servile thoughts!
I will be bright, and shine in pearl and gold,
To wait upon this new-made empress.
To wait, said I? to wanton with this queen,
This goddess, this Semiramis, this nymph,
This syren, that will charm Rome's Saturnine,
And see his shipwrack, and his commonweal's.
Hallo! what storm is this?

Enter CHIRON, and DEMETRIUS, braving. Demet. Chiron, thy years want wit, thy wit wants edge,

And manners, to intrude where I am grac'd;
And may, for aught thou know'st, affected be.

Chi. Demetrius, thou dost overween in all;
And so in this, to bear me down with braves.

'Tis not the difference of a year or two
Makes me less gracious, or thee more fortunate :
I am as able, and as fit, as thou,

To serve, and to deserve my mistress's grace;
And that my sword upon thee shall approve,
And plead my passions for Lavinia's love.

Aaron. Clubs, clubs! these lovers will not keep

the peace.

Demet. Why, boy, although our mother, unadvis'd. Gave you a dancing rapier by your side,

Are you so desperate grown to threat your friends? Go to; have your lath glued within your sheath, Till you know better how to handle it.

Chi. Meanwhile, sir, with the little skill I have.
Full well shalt thou perceive how much I dare.
Demet. Ay, boy, grow ye so brave? [They draw.
Aaron.
Why, how now, lords?
So near the emperor's palace dare you draw,
And maintain such a quarrel openly!

Full well I wot the ground of all this grudge;
I would not for a million of gold

The cause were known to them it most concerns.
Nor would your noble mother, for much more,
Be so dishonour'd in the court of Rome.
For shame, put up.

Demet.
Not I, till I have sheath'd
My rapier in his bosom, and, withal,
Thrust those reproachful speeches down his throat,
That he hath breath'd in my dishonour here.

Chi. For that I am prepar'd, and full resolv'd, Foul-spoken coward, that thund'rest with thy tongue,

And with thy weapon nothing dar'st perform.
Aaron. Away, I say!

Now, by the gods that warlike Goths adore,
This petty brabble will undo us all!

Why, lords, and think you not how dangerous
It is to jet upon a prince's right?
What, is Lavinia then become so loose,
Or Bassianus so degenerate,

That for her love such quarrels may be broach'd,
Without controlment, justice, or revenge?

Young lords, beware; and should the empress know This discord's ground, the music would not please. Chi. I care not, I, knew she, and all the world, I love Lavinia more than all the world.

Demet. Youngling, learn thou to make some meaner choice:

Lavinia is thine elder brother's hope.

Aaron. Why, are ye mad? or know ye not, in Rome,

How furious and impatient they be,

And cannot brook competitors in love?

I tell you, lords, you do but plot your deaths
By this device.

Chi. Aaron, a thousand deaths would I propose, To achieve her whom I do love.

Aaron.

To achieve her, how? Demet. Why mak'st thou it so strange? She is a woman, therefore may be woo'd; She is a woman, therefore may be won; She is Lavinia, therefore must be lov'd. What, man! more water glideth by the mill Than wots the miller of; and easy it is Of a cut loaf to steal a shive, we know: Though Bassianus be the emperor's brother, Better than he have worn Vulcan's badge.

Aaron. Ay, and as good as Saturninus may. Demet. Then why should he despair that knows to court it

With words, fair looks, and liberality?
What, hast not thou full often struck a doe,
And borne her cleanly by the keeper's nose?
Aaron. Why, then, it seems, some certain snatch

Aaron. For shame, be friends, and join for that you jar.

'Tis policy and stratagem must do

That you affect, and so must you resolve
That what you cannot as you would achieve
You must perforce accomplish as you may:
Take this of me, Lucrece was not more chaste
Than this Lavinia, Bassianus' love.

A speedier course than ling'ring languishment
Must we pursue, and I have found the path.
My lords, a solemn hunting is in hand;
There will the lovely Roman ladies troop :
The forest walks are wide and spacious,
And many unfrequented plots there are,
Fitted by kind for rape and villainy :
Single you thither then this dainty doe,
And strike her home by force, if not by words:
This way, or not at all, stand you in hope.
Come, come, our empress, with her sacred wit,
To villainy and vengeance consecrate,
Will we acquaint with all that we intend;
And she shall file our engines with advice,

Enter TITUS ANDRONICUS, his three Sons, and MARCUS, making a noise with hounds and horns.

Tit. The hunt is up, the morn is bright and grey, The fields are fragrant, and the woods are green; Uncouple here, and let us make a bay, And wake the emperor and his lovely bride, And rouse the prince, and ring a hunter's peal, That all the court may echo with the noise. Sons, let it be your charge, as it is ours, To attend the emperor's person carefully: I have been troubled in my sleep this night, But dawning day new comfort hath inspir'd. Here a cry of hounds, and wind horns in a peal; then enter SATURNINUS, TAMORA, BASSIANUS, LAVINIA, CHIRON, DEMETRIUS, and their Attend

ants.

Tit. Many good morrows to your majesty;
Madam, to you as many and as good.
I promised your grace a hunter's peal.
Sat. And you have rung it lustily, my lords;
Somewhat too early for new-married ladies.
Bass. Lavinia, how say you?
Lav.

I say no:
I have been broad awake two hours and more.
Sat. Come on, then; horse and chariots let us
have,

And to our sport: madam, now shall ye see
Our Roman hunting.

Marc.
I have dogs, my lord,
Will rouse the proudest panther in the chase,
And climb the highest promontory top.

Tit. And I have horse will follow where the game Makes way, and run like swallows o'er the plain. Demet. Chiron, we hunt not, we, with horse nor

hound;

But hope to pluck a dainty doe to ground. [Exeunt.

SCENE III.-The Forest.

Enter AARON.

Aaron. He that had wit would think that I had

none,

To bury so much gold under a tree,
And never after to inherit it.
Let him that thinks of me so abjectly
Know that this gold must coin a stratagem,
Which, cunningly effected, will beget

A very excellent piece of villainy :
And so repose, sweet gold, for their unrest,
That have their alms out of the empress' chest.

Enter TAMORA.

Tam. My lovely Aaron, wherefore look'st thou sad,