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Ranfomless here we set our prisoners free;
Proclaim onr honours, Lords, with trump and drum.
Baf. Lord Titus, by your leave, this maid is mine.

[Seizing Lavinia. Tit. How, Sir ? are you in earnest then, my Lord?

Baf. Ay, Noble Titus; and resolv'd withal To do myself this reason and this right.

[The Emperor courts Tamora in dumb few. Mar. 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? Treafon, my Lord! Lavinia is surpris’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 sword I'll keep this door secure.

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

Tit. What! villain-boy, Barr'ft me my way in Rome ?

[He kills bin, Mut. Help, Lucius, help!

Luc. My Lord, you are unjust, and more than so; In wrongful quarrel you have faiņ your fon.

Tit. Nor thou nor he are any fons 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.

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 :
Thec never, nor thy traiterous haughty sons,
Confederates all, thus to dishonour me.
Was there none else in Rome to make a stale of,
But Saturnine ? Full well, Andronicus,
Agree these deeds with that proud brag of thine,
That saidit, I begg'd the empire at thy hands.

Tit. O monstrous ! what reproachful words are these!

Sat. But go thy ways : 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 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 stately Phæbe 'mong her nymphs, Doft overshine the gallant'st dames of Rome; If thou be pleas'd with this my

sudden choice, Behold I chose thee, Tamora, for my bride, And will create thee Emperess of Rome. Speak, Queen of Goths, dost thou applaud my choice? And here I swear by all the Roman gods, (Sith priest and holy water are so near, And tapers burn fo bright, and every thing In readiness for Hymeneus ftands), I will not re-falute the streets of Rome, Or climb my palace, till from forth this place I lead eípous'd my bride along with me.

Tam. And here in fight of Heav'n to Rome I swear, If Saturnine advance the Queen of Goths, She will a handmaid be to his defires, A loving nurse, a mother to his youth.

Sat. Ascend, fair Queen, Pantheon ; Lords, accomYour noble Emperor, and his lovely bride, [pany Sent by the heavens for Prince Saturnine ; Whose wisdom bath her fortune conquered : There shall we consummate 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 hast done! In a bad quarrel Nain 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 ;

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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 reits not in this tomb.
This monument five hundred years hath ftood,
Which I have sumptuously re-edified:
Here none but soldiers, and Rome's servitors,
Repose in fame: none basely Nain 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 shall, or him we will accompany.
Tit. And shall? 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 hast ftruck upon my creft,
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.

Luc. He is not himself, let us withdraw.
Quin. Not I till Mutius' bones he 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 rest will speed. Mar. Renowned Titus, more than half my

soul, Luc. Dear father, soul and substance 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 wise Laertes' fon
Did graciously plead for his funerals,
Let not young Mutius then, that was thy joy,
Be barr'd his entrance here.

Tit. Rise, Marcus, rise-
The dismall'it day is this that e'er I saw,

T.

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To be dishonour'd by my sons in Rome :
Well ; bury him, and bury me the next.

[They put him in the tomb. Luc. There lie thy bones, sweet Mutius, with thy Till we with trophies do adorn thy tomb ! [friends,

[ They all kneel, and fuy, No man shed tears for Noble Mutius ; He lives in fame that died in Virtue's cause.

Mar, 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 :
If by device or no, the heav'ns can tell :
Is the not then beholden to the man,
That brought her for this high good turn so far?
Yes; and will nobly him remunerate.

SCENE VI.
Flourish. Re-enter the Emperor, Tamora, Chiron, and

Demetrius, with Aaron the Moor, at one door ; at the other door, Basianus and Lavinic, with others.

Sat. So, Baffianus, you have play'd your prize ; God give you joy, Sir, of your gallant bride.

you of your's, 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.

Baf. 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 ;
Mean while I am poffefs'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.

Baf. My Lord, what I have done, as best I may,
Answer I muft, and shall do with my life :
Only thus much I give your grace to know,
By all the duties which I owe to Rome,
This noble gentleman, Lord Titus here,
Is in opinion and in honour wrong'd;
That, in the rescne of Lavinia,
With his own hand did slay his eldest son,

In

Bas. And

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In zeal to you, and highly mov’d to wrath
To be control'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 Baslianus, 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 bafely put it up without revenge?

Tam. Not so, my Lord; the gods of Rome forefend I should be author to dishonour you! But, on mine honour, dare I undertake For good Lord Titus' innocence in all ; Whose fury, not diffembled, speaks his griefs Then, at my suit, look graciously on him, Lose pot fo noble a friend on vain suppofe, Nor with sour looks amict 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 : Lelt then the people, and patricians too, Upon a just survey, take Titus' part; And to supplant us for ingratitude, Which Rome reputes to be a heinous fin ; Yield at intreats : 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 traiterous fons, To whom I sued for my dear fon's life ; And make them know, what 'tis to let a Queen. Kneel in the streets, and beg for grace in vainCome, come, sweet Emperor,-come, AndronicusTake

up this good old man, and chear the heart That dies in tempelt of thy angry frown.

Sat. Rise, Titus, rise ; my Empress hath prevaild.
Tit. I thank your Majesty, and her; my Lord,

These

Afde.

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