The felf-fame Gods, that arm'd the Queen of Troy (3)
With opportunity of fharp revenge
Upon the Thracian tyrant in her Tent,
May favour Tamora, the Queen of Goths,
(When Goths were Goths, and Tamora was Queen)
To quit her bloody wrongs upon her foes.
Enter Mutius, Marcus, Quintus and Lucius.
Luc. See, lord and father, how we have perform'd
Our Roman rites: Alarbus' limbs are lopt:
And intrails feed the ficrificing fire;
Whose smoke, like incenfe, doth perfume the sky.
Remaineth nought but to inter our brethren,
And with loud larums welcome them to Rome.
Tit. Let it be fo, and let Andronicus
Make this his lateft farewel to their fouls.
[Then found trumpets, and lay the coffins in the tomb.
In peace and honour reft you here, my fons,
Rome's readieft champions, repofe you here,
Secure from worldly chances and mishaps:
Here lurks no treason, here no envy fwells;
Here grow no damned grudges, here no ftorms,
No noife but filence and eternal fleep:
In peace and honour reft you here, my fons!
Lav. In peace and honour live lord Titus long, My noble lord and father, live in fame!
Lo! at this tomb my tributary tears
(3) The felf-fame Gods, that arm'd the Queen of Troy With opportunity of sharp revenge
Upon the Thracian Tyrant in his Tent, &c.] I read, against the Authority of all the Copies,
in her Tent; i. e. in the Tent where she and the other Trojan Captive Women were kept for thither Hecuba by a Wile had decoy'd Polymneftor, in order to perpetrate her Revenge. This we may learn from EURIPIDES's Hecuba; the only Author, that I can at prefent remember, from whom our Writer must have glean'd this Circumftance.
I render, for my brethrens' obfequies:
And at thy feet I kneel, with tears of joy
Shed on the earth, for thy Return to Rome.
O, bless me here with thy victorious hand,
Whofe fortune Rome's belt citizens applaud.
Tit. Kind Rome, that haft thus lovingly referv'd
The Cordial of mine age, to glad mine heart!
Lavinia, live; out-live thy father's days, (4)
In Fame's eternal Date for virtue's praife!
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 fuccefsful wars,
You that furvive, and you that sleep in fame:
Fair lords, your fortunes are alike in all,
That in your country's fervice drew your fwords.
But fafer triumph in 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 juftice thou haft ever been,
Send thee by me their Tribune, and their trust,
This Palliament of white and fpotlefs hue;
And name thee in election for the Empire,
With these our late-deceased Emperor's fons:
Be Candidatus then, and put it on;
And help to fet a head on headlefs Rome.
Tit.. A better head her glorious body fits,
Than his, that shakes for age and feebleness:
What! fhould I don this robe, and trouble you?
Be chose with Proclamations to day,
To morrow yield up Rule, refign my life,
And set abroach new business for you all ?
(4) Lavinia, live; out-live thy Father's days:
And Fame's eternal date for Virtue's praife!] Were the Text to be admitted genuine, nothing could be fo abfurd as for Titus to wish, his Daughter might out-live the eternal Date of Fame. I have, by the Change of a fingle Monofyllable, restor❜d the Paffage to a fenfible and kind Wish.
Rome, I have been thy foldier forty years,
And led my country's ftrength fuccessfully;
And buried one and twenty valiant fons,
Knighted in field, flain manfully in arms,
In Right and Service of their noble Country..
Give me a staff 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 fhalt 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 fwords, and fheath them not
'Till Saturninus be Rome's Emperor.
Andronicus, would thou wert hipt to hell,
Rather than rob me of the people's hearts.
Luc. Proud Saturnine, interrupter of the Good
That noble-minded Titas means to thee.-
Tit. Content thee, Prince; I will reftore 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 moft 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 eldeft fon,
Lord Saturnine; whofe virtues will, I hope,
Reflect on Rame, 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 applause of every fort,
Patricians and Plebeians, we create
Lord Saturninus, Rome's great Emperor;
And fay,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 deferts,
And will with deeds requite thy gentleness :
And for an onfet, Titus, to advance
Thy name, and honourable family,
Lavinia will I make my Emperefs,
Rome's royal Miftrefs, Mistress of my heart,
And in the facred 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 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 prisoners;
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 life!!
How proud I am of thee, and of thy gifts,
Rome fhall record; and when I do forget
The least of these unfpeakable deferts,,
Romans, forget your fealty to me.
Tit. Now, Madam, are you prifoner to an Emperor; To him, that for your honour and your state
Will ufe you nobly, and your followers.
Sat. A goodly lady, truft me, of the hue
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 courtefie.
Sat. Thanks, fweet Lavinia; Romans, let us go,
Ranfomlefs here we fet our prisoners 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 my felf this Reason and this Right.
[The Emperor courts Tamora in dumb shew.
Mar. Suum cuique is our Roman justice:
This Prince in justice feizeth but his own.
Luc. And that he will, and fhall, if Lucius live.
Tit. Traitors, avant! where is the Emperor's Guard?
Treafon, my lord; Lavinia is furpriz'd.
Sat. Surpriz'd! by whom?
Baf. By him, that juftly may
Bear his betroth'd from all the world away.
[Exit Baffianus with Lavinia.
Mut. Brothers, help to convey her hence away,
And with my fword I'll keep this door fecure.
Tit. Follow, my lord, and I'll foon bring her back.
Mut. My lord, you país nor here.
Tit. What! villain-boy,
Barr'ft me my way in Rome ?
Mut. Help, Lucius, help!
Luc. My lord, you are unjust, 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 fo 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 flock; I'll truft by leifure him, that mocks me once: Thee never, nor thy traiterous haughty sons, Confederates all, thus to dishonour me.
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