And set abroach new business for you all!
Rome, have been thy foldier forty years,
And led my country's ftrength fuccefsfully!
And buried one and twenty valiant sons,
Knighted in field, flain manfully in arms,
In right and fervice of their noble country.
Give me a ftaff of honour for mine age,
But not a fceptre to controul the world.
Upright he held it, Lords, that held it laft.

Mar. Titus, thou shalt obtain and ask the empery. Sat. Proud and ambitious Tribune, canft thou tell— Tit. Patience, Prince Saturninus.

Sat, Romans, do me right.

Patricians, draw your swords, and sheath them not,
Till Saturninus be Rome's Emperor.

Andronicus, would thou were fhipp'd to hell,
Rather than rob me of the people's hearts.

Luc. Proud Saturnine, interrupter of the good

That noble-minded Titus means to thee.

Tit. Content thee, Prince; I will restore to thee The people's hearts, and wean them from themselves. Baf. Andronicus, I do not flatter thee,

But honour thee, and will do till I die:

My faction, if thou ftrengthen with thy friends,

I will most thankful be; and thanks to men

Of noble minds is honourable meed.

Tit. People of Rome, and noble Tribunes here, I ask your voices, and your fuffrages

Will you

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

Tit. Tribunes, I thank you; and this fuit I make,
That you create your Emperor's eldest fon
Lord Saturnine; whofe virtues will, I hope,
Reflect on Rome, as Titan's rays on earth,
And ripen juftice in this common-weal.
Then, if you will elect by my advice,
Crown him, and fay,

Long live our Emperor!

Mar. With voices and applaufe of every fort,

Patricians and Plebeians, we create

Lord Saturninus Rome's great Emperor;

And

And fay,Long live our Emperor Saturnine!

[A leng flourif, 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 deferts,
And will with deeds requite thy gentleness;
And for an onset, Titus, to advance
Thy name and honourable family,
Lavinia will I make my Emperefs,
Rome's royal miftrefs, miftrefs of my heart,
And in the facred Pantheon her efpoufe.
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 fight of Rome, to Saturninus,
King and commander of our common-weal,
The wide world's Emperor, do I confecrate
My fword, my chariot, and my prifoners;
Prefents well worthy Rome's Imperial Lord.
Receive them then, the tribute that I owe,
Mine honour's enfigns humbled at thy feet.

Sat. Thanks, Noble Titus, father of my
How proud I am of thee, and of thy gifts,
Rome fhall record; and when I do forget
The leaft of thefe unfpeakable deferts,
Romans, forget your fealty to me.

life!

Tit. Now, Madam, are you prifoner to an Emperor; To him, that for your honour and your ftate

Will ufe you nobly, and your followers.

Sat. A goodly lady, truft me, of the hue [To Tamora. That I would chufe, were I to chufe anew.

Clear up, fair Queen, that cloudy countenance ;

Tho' chance of war hath wrought this change of cheer, Thou com'ft not to be made a fcorn in Rome:

Princely fhall be thy ufage every way.

Reft on my word, and let not discontent

Daunt all your hopes: Madam, who comforts you,
Can make you greater than the Queen of Goths.
Lavinia, you are not difpleas'd with this?
Lav. Not I, my Lord; fith true nobility
Warrants these words in princely courtesy.

Sat. Thanks, fweet Lavinia; Romans, let us go.
VOL. VI.
Р

Ranfomlefs

Ranfomlefs here we fet our prifoners free;
Proclaim our honours, Lords, with trump and drum.
Baf. Lord Titus, by your leave, this maid is mine.
[Seizing Lavinia.
Tit. How, Sir? are you in earneft then, my Lord?
Baf. Ay, Noble Titus; and refolv'd withal

To do myfelf this reafon and this right.

[The Emperor courts Tamora in dumb fhew.

Mar. Suum cuique is our Roman justice :

This prince in juftice feizeth but his own.

Luc. And that he will and fhall if Lucius live. Tit. Traitors, avaunt! where is the Emperor's guard? Treafon, my Lord! Lavinia is furpris'd.

Sat. Surpris'd! by whom?

Baf. By him that juftly may

Bear his betroth'd from all the world away.

[Exit Baffianus with Lavinia,

SCENE IV.

Mut. Brothers, help to convey her once away, And with my fword I'll keep this door fecure.

Tit. Follow, my Lord, and I'll soon bring her back, Mut. My Lord, you país not here,

Tit. What! villain-boy,

Barr'ft me my way in Rome?

Mut. Help, Lucius, help!

[He kills him,

Luc. My Lord, you are unjuft, and more than fo ;

In wrongful quarrel you have flain your fon.

Tit. Nor thou nor he are any fons of mine:

My fons would never so dishonour me.
Traitor, reftore Lavinia to the Emperor.

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

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

Was there none else in Rome to make a ftale of,
But Saturnine? Full well, Andronicus,
Agree thefe deeds with that proud brag of thine,
That faidit, I begg'd the empire at thy hands.

Tit. O monftrous! what reproachful words are these ! Sat. But go thy ways: go, give that changing piece, To him that flourish'd for her with his fword; A valiant fon-in-law thou shalt enjoy ;

One fit to bandy with thy lawless fons,

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 ftately Phoebe 'mong her nymphs,
Doft overfhine the gallant'ft dames of Rome;
If thou be pleas'd with this my fudden choice,
Behold I chufe thee, Tamora, for my bride,
And will create thee Emperefs of Rome.
Speak, Queen of Goths, doft thou applaud my choice?
And here I fwear by all the Roman gods,
(Sith prieft and holy water are fo near,
And tapers burn fo bright, and every thing
In readiness for Hymeneus ftands),

I will not re-falute the ftreets of Rome,
Or climb my palace, till from forth this place

I lead expous'd my bride along with me.

Tam. And here in fight of Heav'n to Rome I fwear,' If Saturnine advance the Queen of Goths,

She will a handmaid be to his defires,

A loving nurse, a mother to his youth.

Sat. Afcend, fair Queen, Pantheon; Lords, accom

Your noble Emperor, and his lovely bride,
Sent by the heavens for Prince Saturnine;
Whofe wifdom hath her fortune conquered:

[pany

There shall we confummate our spoufal rites. [Exeunt.

SCENE V. Manet Titus Andronicus.

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?

Enter Marcus Andronicus, Lucius, Quintus, and Marcus. Mar. Oh, Titus, fee, oh, fee, what thou haft done!

In a bad quarrel flain a virtuous fon.

Tit. No, foolish Tribune, no: no son of mine, Nor thou, nor thefe confederates in the deed,

That hath dishonour'd all our family;

P 2

Unworthy

Unworthy brother, and unworthy fons.

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 fumptuously re-edified:

Here none but foldiers, and Rome's fervitors,
Repofe in fame: none bafely flain in brawls.
Bury him where you can, he comes not here.
Mar. My Lord, this is impiety in you;
My nephew Mutius' deeds do plead for him :
He must be buried with his brethren.

Sons. And fhall, or him we will accompany.

Tit. And fhall? what villain was it fpake that word? Quin. He that would vouch't in any place but here, Tit. What, would you bury him in my despight? Mar. No, Noble Titus; but intreat of thee

To pardon Mutius, and to bury him.

Tit. Marcus, ev'n thou haft ftruck upon my creft, And with these boys mine honour thou haft wounded. My foes I do repute you every one;

So trouble me no more, but get you gone.

Luc. He is not himself, let us withdraw.
Quin. Not I till Mutius' bones be buried.

[The brother and the fons kneel.
Mar. Brother, for in that name doth nature plead.
Quin. Father, and in that name doth nature speak.
Tit. Speak thou no more, if all the reft will speed.
Mar. Renowned Titus, more than half my foul,-
Luc. Dear father, foul and fubftance of us all,-
Mar. 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 flew himself; and wife Laertes' fon
Did graciously plead for his funerals,

Let not young Mutius then, that was thy joy,
Be barr'd his entrance here.

Tit. Rife, Marcus, rise

The difmall'ft day is this that e'er I faw,

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