Enter Lavinia.

Lav. In Peace and Honour live Lord Titus long,
My Noble Lord and Father, live in Fame:
Lo at this Tomb my tributary Tears
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 blefs me here with thy victorious Hand,
Whole Fortune Rome's beft 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;
And Fame's eternal date for Virtue's praise.
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 fuccefful Wars,
You that furvive, and you that fleep in Fame:
Fair Lords, your Fortunes are alike in all,
That in your Country's Service drew your Swords.
But fafer Triumph is this Funeral Pomp
That hath afpir'd to Selon's Happiness,
And triumphs over Chance in Honour's Bed.
Titus Andronicus, the People of Rome,
Whofe 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 Sons:
Be Candidatus then, and put it on,
And help to fet a Head on headless Rome.

Tit. A better Head her Glorious Body fits,
Than his that thakes for Age and Feebleness:.
What should I dǝn this Robe, and trouble you?
Be chofe with Proclamations to Day,
To Morrow yield up Rule, refign my Life,
And fet abroach new Bufinefs for you all.
Rome, I have been thy Soldier forty Years,
And led my Country's Strength fuccessfully,

And

And buried one and twenty valiant Sons,
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 Scepter 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 fheath them not
'Till Saturninus be Rome's Emperor:
Andronicus, would thou wert fhipt to Hell,
Rather than rob me of the People Hearts.

Luc. Proud Saturnine, interrupter of the good
That Noble-minded Titus means to thee.

Tit. Content thee Prince, I will reftore to thee
The Peoples 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 Suffrages,
Will you beftow them friendly on Andronicus?
Mar. To gratifie 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 Son,
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 Ele& 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 fay, Long live our Emperor Saturnine.

Along Flourish till they come down.

Sat.

Sat. Titus Andronicus, for thy Favours done,
To us in our Election this Day,

I give thee Thanks in part of thy Deserts,
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 Sword, my Chariot and my Prisoners,
Prefents well worthy Rome's Imperial Lord.
Receive them then, the Tribute that I owe,
Mine Honours Enfigns humbled at thy Feet.

Sat. Thanks, noble Titus, Father of my Life,
How proud I am of thee, and of thy Gifts,
Rome thall record, and when I do forget
The leaft of these unspeakable Deserts,
Romans forget your Fealty to me.

Tit. Now, Madam, are you Prisoner 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 a-new:
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 difcontent
Daunt all your Hopes: Madam, he 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
Warrant thefe Words in Princely Courtefie.
Sat. Thanks, fweet Lavinia. Romans, let us gō.
Ranf mlefs here we fet our Prifoners free,

Proclaim

Proclaim our Honours, Lords, with Trumpet 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 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, avant! where is the Emperor's Guard?
Treafon, my Lord; Lavinia is furpriz❜d.

Sat. Surpriz'd! by whom?

Baf. By him that justly 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 Sword I'll keep the Door close.
Tit. Follow, my Lord, and I'll foon bring her back.
Mut. My Lord, you pafs 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 Son. Tit. Nor thou, nor he, are any Sons of mine. My Sons would never fo 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.

Emp. 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 Dishonour me.
Was there none elfe in Rome to make a Stale of
But Saturnine? Full well, Andronicus,

Agree these Deeds, with that proud Brag of thine,
That faid'ft, I beg'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 flourifh'd for her with his Sword;

A Valiant Son-in-Law thou shalt enjoy:

One

One fit to bandy with thy lawless Sons,
To ruffle in the Common-wealth of Rome.

Tit. Thefe Words are Razors to my wounded Heart.
Sat. And therefore, lovely Tamora, Queen of Goths,
That like the ftately Phabe 'mongft her Nymphs,
Doft over-fhine 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 Priest and Holy-water are fo near,

And Tapers burn fo bright, and every thing
In readiness for Hymeneus ftand,

I will not re-falute the Streets of Rome,
Or climb my Palace, 'till from forth this place
I lead efpous'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 Hand-maid be to his Defires,
A loving Nutfe, a Mother to his Youth.
Sat. Afcend, Fair Queen,
Pantheon Lords, accompany

Your noble Emperor, and his lovely Bride,
Sent by the Heavens for Prince Saturnine;
Whofe Wisdom hath her Fortune Conquered,
There fhall we confummáte our Sponfal Rites.
Tit. I am not bid to wait upon this Bride.
Titus, when wert thou wont to walk alone,
Dishonoured thus, and challenged of Wrongs?
Enter Marcus Andronicus, Lucius,

[Exeunt.

Quintus, and Marcus. Mar. O Titus fee, O fee what thou haft done! In a bad Quarrel flain a Virtuous Son,"

Tit. No, foolish Tribune, no: No Son of mine, Nor thou, nor thefe Confederates in the Deed, That hath Dishonoured all our Family, Unworthy Brother, and unworthy Sons.

Luc. But let us give him Burial as becomes, Give Mutius Burial with our Brethren.