noble Titus; and this right, dumb show. Sat. Thanks, sweet Lavinia...Romans, let us go: Ransomeless here we set our prisoners free: Proclaim our honours, lords, with trump and drum. Bas. Lord Titus, by your leave, this maid is mine. [Scizing LAVINIA. Tit. How, sir? Are you in carnest then, my lord ? Bas. Ay, noble Titus; and resolv'd withal, To do myself this reason and this right. [The Emperor courts TAMORA in dumb show. 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, ayaunt! Where is the emperor's . guard? . Sat. Surpriz'd! By whom? By him that justly may Bear his betroth'd from all the world away. [Exeunt. Marcus and BASSIANUS, with LA VINIA. 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 ? Titus kills Mutius. Mut. "Help, Lucius, help! Re-enter Lucius. Tit. Nor thou, nor he, are any sons of mine: Luc. Dead, if you will; but not to be his wife, That is another's lawful promis'd love. E.cit. Sat. No, Titus, no; the emperor needs her not, Not 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 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 said'st, I begg‘d the empire at thy hands. Tit. O monstrous ! what reproachful words are these? piece Tit. These words are razors to my wounded heart. Goths, choice? And here I swear by all the Roman Gods, . s changing piece-] Spoken of Lavinia. Piece was then, as it is now, used personally as a word of contempt. . 3 To ruffle in the commonwealth of Rome.] A ruffler was a kind of cheating bully; and is so called in a statute made for the punishment of vagabonds in the 27th year of King Henry VIII, Hence, perhaps, this sense of the verb, to ruffle. Rufflers are likewise enumerated among other vagabonds, by Holinshed, Vol. I. p. 188. Sith priest and holy water are so near, swear, company Your noble emperor, and his lovely bride, Sent by the heavens for prince Saturnine, Whose wisdom hath her fortune conquered : There shall we cónsummate our spousal rites. [Exeunt SATURNINUS, and his Followers ; TA MORA, 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. Mar. 0, Titus, see, 0, see, what thou hast done! In a bad quarrel slain a virtuous son. Tit. No, foolish tribune, no; no son of mine, Luc. But let us give him burial, as becomes ; Tit. Traitors, away! he rests not in this tomb. This monument five hundred years hath stood, Which I have sumptuously re-edified: * I am not bid-] i. e. invited, Here none but soldiers, and Rome's servitors, Mar. My lord, this is impiety in you : Quin. Mart. And shall, or him we will accompany. Tit. And shall ? What villain was it spoke that word ? Quin. He that would vouch't in any place but here. Tit. What, would you bury him in my despite ? Mar. 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. Quin. Not I, till Mutius' bones be buried. MARCUS and the Sons of Titus 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, Mar. Suffer thy brother Marcus to inter Rise, Marcus, rise : The dismall'st day is this, that e'er I saw,.. [Mutius is put into the Tomb. Luc. There lie thy bones, sweet Mutius, with thy friends, Till we with trophies do adorn thy tomb! All. 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 le Mar. Mymaps, the subtle que prome? . it is ; How comes it, that the subtle queen of Goths Tit. I know not, Marcus; but, I know, it is ; Whether by device, or no, the heavens can tell ; ' Is she not then beholden to the man That brought her for this high good turn so far? Flourish. Re-enter at one side, SATURNINUS, at tended; TAMORA, CHIRON, DEMETRIUS, and AARON: At the other, BASSIANUS, LAVINIA, and Others. . Sat. So Bassianus, you have play'd your prize; God give you joy, sir, of your gallant bride. Bas. 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. Bas. 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 possess’d of that is mine. s p lay'd your prize ;] A technical term in the ancient fencing-school. |