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Sat. 'Tis good, sir: You are very short with

us;

But, if we live, we'll be as sharp with you.

Bas. My lord, what I have done, as best I

may,

Answer I must, and shall do with my life.
Only thus much I give your grace to know,
By all the duties that I owe to Rome,
This noble gentleman, lord Titus here,
Is in opinion, and in honour, wrong'd;
That, in the rescue of Lavinia,

With his own hand did slay his youngest son,
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 Bassianus, 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 basely 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 dissembled, speaks his griefs:
Then, at my suit, look graciously on him;
Lose not so noble a friend on vain suppose,
Nor with sour looks afflict 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;
Lest then the people, and patricians too,
Upon a just survey, take Titus' part,
And so supplant us for ingratitude,
(Which Rome reputes to be a heinous sin,)
Yield at entreats, 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 traitorous sons,
To whom I sued for my dear son's life;
And make them know, what 'tis to let a
queen

Kneel in the streets, and beg for grace in

vain.

Aside.

Come, come, sweet emperor,-come, Andronicus, Take up this good old man, and cheer the heart That dies in tempest of thy angry frown.

Sat. Rise, Titus, rise; my empress hath prevail'd.
Tit. I thank your majesty, and her, my lord:
These words, these looks, infuse new life in me.
Tam. Titus, I am incorporate in Rome,
A Roman now adopted happily,

And must advise the emperor for his good.
This day all quarrels die, Andronicus ;-
And let it be mine honour, good my lord,
That I have reconcil'd your friends and you.-
For you, prince Bassianus, I have pass'd
My word and promise to the emperor,
That you will be more mild and tractable.-
And fear not, lords,-and you, Lavinia;-
By my advice, all humbled on your knees,
You shall ask pardon of his majesty.

Luc. We do; and vow to heaven, and to his highness,

That, what we did, was mildly, as we might,

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Tend'ring our sister's honour, and our own.
Mar. That on mine honour here I do protest.
Sat. Away, and talk not; trouble us no more.-
Tam. Nay, nay, sweet emperor, we must all be
friends:

The tribune and his nephews kneel for grace;
I will not be denied. Sweet heart, look back.
Sat. Marcus, for thy sake, and thy brother's here,
And at my lovely Tamora's entreats,

I do remit these young men's heinous faults.
Stand up.

Lavinia, though you left me like a churl,

I found a friend; and sure as death I swore,
I would not part a bachelor from the priest.
Come, if the emperor's court can feast two brides,
You are my guest, Lavinia, and your friends:
This day shall be a love-day, Tamora.

Tit. To-morrow, an it please your majesty,
To hunt the panther and the hart with me,
With horn and hound, we'll give your grace bon-jour.
Sat. Be it so, Titus, and gramercy too.

[Exeunt.

ACT II.

SCENE I. The same.

Before the Palace.

Enter AARON.

Aar. Now climbeth Tamora Olympus' top,
Safe out of fortune's shot; and sits aloft,
Secure of thunder's crack, or lightning's flash;
Advanc'd above pale envy's threat'ning reach.
As when the golden sun salutes the morn,
And, having gilt the ocean with his beams,
Gallops the zodiack in his glistering coach,

And overlooks the highest-peering hills;

So Tamora.

Upon her wit doth earthly honour wait,

And virtue stoops and trembles at her frown.
Then, Aaron, arm thy heart, and fit thy thoughts,
To mount aloft with thy imperial mistress,

And mount her pitch; whom thou in triumph long
Hast prisoner held, fetter'd in amorous chains;
And faster bound to Aaron's charming eyes,
Than is Prometheus tied to Caucasus.

Away with slavish weeds, and idle thoughts!
I will be bright, and shine in pearl and gold,
To wait upon this new-made emperess.
To wait, said I? to wanton with this queen,
This goddess, this Semiramis;-this queen,
This syren, that will charm Rome's Saturnine,
And see his shipwreck, and his commonweal's.
Holla! what storm is this?

Enter CHIRON and DEMETRIUS, braving.

Dem. Chiron, thy years want wit, thy wit wants edge,

And manners, to intrude where I am grac'd;
And may,
for aught thou know'st, affected be.
Chi. Demetrius, thou dost over-ween in all;
And so in this to bear me down with braves.
'Tis not the difference of a year, or two,
Makes me less gracious, thee more fortunate:
I am as able, and as fit, as thou,

To serve, and to deserve my mistress' grace;
And that my sword upon thee shall approve,
And plead my passions for Lavinia's love.

6

Aar. Clubs, clubs! these lovers will not keep

the peace.

Clubs, clubs! This was the usual outcry for assistance, when any riot in the street happened.

Dem. Why, boy, although our mother, unadvis'd, Gave you a dancing-rapier by your side,

Are you so desperate grown, to threat your friends? Go to; have your lath glued within your sheath, Till you know better how to handle it.

Chi. Mean while, sir, with the little skill I have, Full well shalt thou perceive how much I dare. Dem. Ay, boy, grow ye so brave? [They draw. Why, how now, lords? So near the emperor's palace dare you draw, And maintain such a quarrel openly?

Aar.

Full well I wot the ground of all this grudge;
I would not for a million of gold,

The cause were known to them it most concerns:
Nor would your noble mother, for much more,
Be so dishonour'd in the court of Rome.

For shame, put up.

Dem.

Not I; till I have sheath'd My rapier in his bosom, and, withal,

Thrust these reproachful speeches down his throat, That he hath breath'd in my dishonour here.

Chi. For that I ain prepar'd and full resolv'd,— Foul-spoken coward! that thunder'st with thy tongue,

And with thy weapon nothing dar'st perform.
Aar. Away, I say.-

Now by the gods, that warlike Goths adore,

This petty brabble will undo us all.—

Why, lords, and think you not how dangerous

It is to jut upon a prince's right?

What, is Lavinia then become so loose,
Or Bassianus so degenerate,

That for her love such quarrels may be broach'd,
Without controlment, justice, or revenge?

Young lords, beware!-an should the empress know This discord's ground, the musick would not please.

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