Sat. How fair the tribune speaks to calm my thoughts! Bas. Marcus Andronicus, so I do affy And so I love and honour thee and thine, And her, to whom my thoughts are humbled all, [Exeunt the Followers of Bassianus. Sat. Friends, that have been thus forward in my right, I thank you all, and here dismiss you all; [Exeunt the Followers of Saturninus. Rome, be as just and gracious unto me, As I am confident and kind to thee. Open the gates, and let me in. Bas. Tribunes! and me, a poor competitor. [Sat. and Bas. go into the Capitol, and exeunt with Senators, Marcus, &c. SCENE II.-The same. Enter a Captain, and Others. Cap. Romans, make way: The good Andronicus, Patron of virtue, Rome's best champion, Successful in the battles that he fights, With honour and with fortune is return'd, From where he circumscribed with his sword, And brought to yoke, the enemies of Rome. Flourish of trumpets, &c. Enter MUTIUS and MARTIUS: after them, two Men bearing a coffin covered with black; then QUINTUS and Lucius. After them, TITUS ANDRONICUS; and then TAMORA, with ALARBUS, CHIRON, DEMETRIUS, AARON, and other Goths, prisoners; Soldiers and People, following. The Bearers set down the coffin, and Titus speaks. Tit. Hail, Rome, victorious in thy mourning weeds! Stand gracious to the rites that we intend !— These, that survive, let Rome reward with love; With burial amongst their ancestors: Here Goths have given me leave to sheath my sword. [The tomb is opened. There greet in silence, as the dead were wont, Sweet cell of virtue and nobility, How many sons of mine hast thou in store, Luc. Give us the proudest prisoner of the Goths, That we may hew his limbs, and, on a pile, Ad manes fratrum sacrifice his flesh, Before this earthly prison of their bones; That so the shadows be not unappeas'd, Nor we disturb'd with prodigies on earth. Tit. I give him you; the noblest that survives, The eldest son of this distressed queen. Tum. Stay, Roman brethren;-Gracious conqueror, Victorious Titus, rue the tears I shed, A mother's tears in passion for her son: Andronicus, stain not thy tomb with blood: Tit. Patient yourself, madam, and pardon me. These are their brethren, whom you Goths beheld Alive, and dead; and for their brethren slain, Religiously they ask a sacrifice: To this your son is mark'd; and die he must, [Exeunt Lucius, Quintus, Martius, and Tam. O cruel, irreligious piety! Chi. Was ever Scythia half so barbarous? To tremble under Titus' threatening look. Upon the Thracian tyrant in his tent, Re-enter LUCIUS, QUINTUS, MARTIUS, and Luc. See, lord and father, how we have perform'd Whose smoke, like incense, doth perfume the sky. [Trumpets sounded, and the coffins laid in In peace and honour rest you here, my sons; Enter LAVINIA. In peace and honour rest you here, my sons! My noble lord and father, live in fame! And at thy feet I kneel, with tears of joy Tit. Kind Rome, that hast thus lovingly reserv'd The cordial of mine age to glad my heart!— Lavinia, live; outlive thy father's days, And fame's eternal date, for virtue's praise! Enter MARCUS ANDRONICUS, SATURNINUS, BASSIANUS, and Others. Mar. Long live lord Titus, my beloved brother, Gracious triumpher in the eyes of Rome! Tit. Thanks, gentle tribune, noble brother Marcus. Mar. 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 buried one and twenty valiant sons, |