Sheathing the steel in my advent'rous body.
Alas! you know, I am no vaunter, I;
My scars can witness, dumb although they are,
That my report is just, and full of truth.
But, soft, methinks, I do digress too much,
Citing my worthless praise: O, pardon me;
For when no friends are by, men praise themselves.
Mar. Now is my turn to speak; Behold this
child,

[Pointing to the child in the arms of an Attendant. Of this was Tamora delivered;

The issue of an irreligious Moor,

Chief architect and plotter of these woes;
The villain is alive in Titus' house,

Damn'd as he is, to witness this is true.
Now judge, what cause had Titus to revenge
These wrongs, unspeakable, past patience,
Or more than any living man could bear.
Now you have heard the truth, what say you, Ro-
mans?

Have we done aught amiss? Show us wherein,
And, from the place where you behold us now,
The poor remainder of Andronici

Will, hand in hand, all headlong cast us down,
And on the ragged stones beat forth our brains,
And make a mutual closure of our house.
Speak, Romans, speak: and, if you say, we shall,
Lo, hand in hand, Lucius and I will fall.

Emil. Come, come, thou reverend man of
Rome,

And bring our emperor gently in thy hand,

Lucius our emperor; for, well I know,

The common voice do cry, it shall be so. Rom. [Several speak.] Lucius, all hail; Rome's royal emperor!

Lucius, &c. descend.

Mar. Go, go into old Titus' sorrowful house; [To an Attendant. And hither hale that misbelieving Moor, To be adjudg'd some direful slaughtering death, As punishment for his most wicked life.

Rom. [Several speak.] Lucius, all hail; Rome's gracious governor!

Luc. Thanks, gentle Romans; May I govern so, To heal Rome's harms, and wipe away her woe! But, gentle people, give me aim a-while,— For nature puts me to a heavy task;Stand all aloof;-but, uncle, draw you near, To shed obsequious tears upon this trunk:O, take this warm kiss on thy pale cold lips, [Kisses Titus. These sorrowful drops upon thy blood-stain'd face, The last true duties of thy noble son!

Mar. Tear for tear, and loving kiss for kiss,
Thy brother Marcus tenders on thy lips:
Ọ, were the sum of these that I should pay
Countless and infinite, yet would I pay them!

Luc. Come hither, boy; come, come, and learn of us

To melt in showers: Thy grandsire lov'd thee well: Many a time he danc'd thee on his knee,

Sung thee asleep, his loving breast thy pillow;
Many a matter hath he told to thee,
Meet, and agreeing with thine infancy;
In that respect then, like a loving child,
Shed yet some small drops from thy tender spring,
Because kind nature doth require it so:

Friends should associate friends in grief and woe:
Bid him farewel; commit him to the grave;
Do him that kindness, and take leave of him.
Boy. O grandsire, grandsire! even with all my
heart

'Would I were dead, so you did live again!— O lord, I cannot speak to him for weeping; My tears will choke me, if I ope my mouth.

Enter Attendants, with Aaron.

. 1 Rom. You sad Andronici, have done with woes; Give sentence on this execrable wretch, That hath been breeder of these dire events.

Luc. Set him breast-deep in earth, and famish him;

There let him stand, and rave and cry for food:
If any one relieves or pities him,

For the offence he dies. This is our doom:
Some stay, to see him fasten'd in the earth.

Aar. O, why should wrath be mute, and fury dumb?

I am no baby, I, that, with base prayers,
I should repent the evils I have done;
Ten thousand, worse than ever yet I did,
Would I perform, if I might have my will;

If one good deed in all my life I did,

I do repent it from my very soul.

Luc. Some loving friends convey the emperor

hence,

And give him burial in his father's grave:
My father, and Lavinia, shall forthwith
Be closed in our household's monument.
As for that heinous tiger, Tamora,

No funeral rite, nor man in mournful weeds,
No mournful bell shall ring her burial;
But throw her forth to beasts, and birds of prey:
Her life was beast-like, and devoid of pity;
And, being so, shall have like want of pity.
See justice done to Aaron, that damn'd Moor,
By whom our heavy haps had their beginning:
Then, afterwards, to order well the state;
That like events may ne'er it ruinate.

[Exeunt.