Well, bury him, and bury me the next.
They put him in the Tomb. Luc. There lye thy Bones, fweet Mutius, with thy Friends,
'Till we with Trophies do adorn thy Tomb.
No Man fhed Tears for noble Mutius;
He lives in Fame, that died in Virtue's Caufe.
Mar. My Lord, to step out of these fudden Dumps, How comes it that the fubtle Queen of Goths
Is of a fudden thus advanc'd in Rome?
Tit. I know nor, Marcus; but I know it is,
Whether by device or no, the Heav'ns can tell :
Is the not then beholden to the Man,
That brought her for this high good turn fo far?
Yes, and will Nobly him remunerate.
Flourish. Enter the Emperor, Tamora, Chiron and Demetrius with the Moor at one Door. At the other Door Baffianus and Lavinia with others.
Sat. So, Baffianus, you have plaid your Prize,
God give you Joy, Sir, of your Gallant Bride.
Baf. And you of yours, my Lord; I fay no more, Nor with no lefs, and fo I take my leave.
Sat. Traitor, if Rome have Law, or we have Power,
Thou and thy Faction fhall repent this Rape.
Baf. Rape call you it, my Lord, to feize my own,
My true betrothed Love, and now my Wife?
But let the Laws of Rome determine all,
Mean while I am pofleft of that is mine.
Sat. 'Tis good, Sir; you are very fhort with us,
But if we live, we'll be as fharp with you.
Baf. My Lord, what I have done, as beft I may,
Answer I muft, and fhall do with my Life,
Only thus much I give your Grace to know,
By all the Duties which I owe to Rome,
This noble Gentleman, Lord Titus here,
Is in Opinion and in Honour wrong'd,
That in the Refcue of Lavinia,
With his own Hand did fly his youngest Sen,
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 expreft himself in all his Deeds,
A Father and a Friend to thee, and Rome.
Tit. Prince Baffianus, leave to plead my Decds,
'Tis thou, and thofe, that have difhonour'd me:
Rome and the Righteous Heav'ns be my Judge,
How have I lov'd and honour'd Saturnine.
Tam. My worthy Lord, if ever Tamora
Were gracious in thofe Princely Eyes of thine,
Then hear me speak, indifferently, for all;
And at my Suit (Sweet) pardon what is past.
Sat. What, Madam, be dishonoured openly,
And bafely put it up without Revenge?
Tam. Not fo, my Lord,
The Gods of Rome fore-fend,
I should be Author to difhonour you,
But, on mine Honour dare, I undertake,
For good Lord Titus's innocence in all;
Whose Fury not diffembled fpeaks his Griefs:
Then at my Suit look graciously on him,
Lofe not fo noble a Friend on vain suppose,
Nor with fowre looks afflict his gentle Heart.-
My Lord, be rul'd by me, be won at laft,
Diffemble all your Griefs and Difcontents,
You are but newly planted in your Throne;
Left then the People and Partricians too,
Upon a juft Survey take Titus part,
And fo fupplant us for Ingratitude,
Which Rome reputes to be a hainous Sin,
Yield at Intreats, and then let me alone;
I'll find a Day to Maffacre them all,
And raze their Faction, and their Family,
The Cruel Father, and his Traiterous Sons,
To whom I fued 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.
Come, come, fweet Emperor, —come Andronicus,
Take up this good old Man, and chear the Heart,
That dies in Tempeft of thy angry Frown.
Sat. Rife, Titus, rife,
My Empress hath prevail'd.
Tit. I thank your Majefty,
VOL. IV.
Thefe Words, these Looks, infufe 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 my Honour, good my Lord,
That I have reconcil'd your Friends and
For you, Prince Baffianus, I have paft
My Word and Promife to the Emperor,
That you will be more mild and tractable.
And fear not, Lords;
By my Advice all humbled on your Knees,
You shall ask Pardon of his Majefty.
Luc. We do,
And vow to Heaven, and to his Highness,
That what we did, was mildly, as we might,
Tendring our Sifter's Honour and our own.
Mar. That on mine Honour here I do proteft.
Sat. Away, and talk not, trouble us no more.
Tam. Nay, nay,
Sweet Emperor we muft all be Friends.
The Tribune and his Nephews kneel for Grace,
I will not be denied, Sweet-heart, look back.
Sat. Marcus,
For thy fake and thy Brother's here,
And at my lovely Tamora's Intreats,
I do remit these young Mens hainous Faults.
Stand up. Lavinia, though you left me like a churl,
I found a Friend, and fure as Death I fwore,
I would not part a Batchelor from the Prieft.
Come, if the Emperor's Court can feaft two Brides,
You are my Guest, Lavinia, and your Friends;
This Day fhall be a Love-day, Tamora.
Tit. To Morrow, and it pleafe your Majefty,
To hunt the Panther and the Hart with me,
With Horn and Hound, we'll give your Grace Bon-jour. Sat. Be it fo, Titus, and Gramercy too.
Aaron. NOW climbeth Tamora Olympus top,
Safe out of Fortune's fhot, and fits aloft,
Secure of Thunders crack, or Lightning flash,
Advanc'd above pale Envy's threatning reach;
As when the golden Sun falutes the morn,
And having gilt the Ocean with his Beams,
Gallops the Zodiack in his gliftring Coach,
And over-looks the higheft piering Hills:
So Tamora.
Upon her Wit doth early Honour wait,
And Virtue ftoops 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
Haft Prisoner held, fetter'd in amorous Chains,
And fafter bound to Aaron's charming Eyes,
Than is Prometheus ty'd to Caucafus.
Away with flavish Weeds, and idle Thoughts,
I will be bright, and fhine in Pearl and Gold,
To wait upon this new made Emperefs.
To wait, faid I? To wanton with this Queen,
This Goddefs, this Semiramis, this Queen,
This Syren, that will charm Rome's Saturnine,
And fee his Shipwrack, and his Common-weals.
Holla, what Storm is this?
Enter Chiron and Demetrius.
Dem. Chiron, thy Years want Wit, thy Wit wants Edge
And Manners, to intrude where I am Grac'd,
And may, for ought thou know'ft, affected be.
Chi. Demetrius, thou doft over-ween in all,
And fo in this, to bear me down with Braves:
'Tis not the Difference of a Year or two
Makes me lefs Gracious, or thee more Fortunate;
I am as able, and as fit as thou,
To fe ve, and to deferve my Mistress Grace,
And that my Sword upon thee fhall approve,
And plead my Paffion for Lavinia's Love.
Aar. Clubs, Clubs, thefe Lovers will not keep the Peace. Dem. Why Boy, although our Mother (unadvis❜d) Gave you a dancing Rapier by your fide,
Are you fo defperate 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 fhalt thou perceive how much I dare.
Dem. Ay Boy, grow ye fo brave?
Aar. Why now, Lords?
So near the Emperor's Palace dare you draw?
And maintain fuch a Quarrel openly?
Full well I wot the ground of all this Grudge.
I would not for a Million of Gold,
The Caufe were known to them it moft concerns.
Nor would your noble Mother, for much more,
Be fo Dishonoured in the Court of Rome.
For fhame put up.
Dem. Not I, 'till I have fheath'd
My Rapier in his Bofom, and withal
Thrust these reproachful Speeches down his Throat,
That he hath breath'd in my Dishonour here.
Chi. For that I am prepar'd and full refolv❜d,
Foul fpoken Coward!
Thou thundreft with thy Tongue,
And with thy Weapon nothing dar'ft perform.
Aar. Away, I fay.
Now by the Gods that warlike Goths adore,
This petty Brabble will undo us all;
and think you not how dangerous
It is to fet upon a Prince's Right?
What is Lavinia then become so loose,
Or Baffianus fo degenerate,
That for her Love fuch Quarrels may be broacht,
Without Controulment, Justice, or Revenge?
and fhould the Empress know
This Difcord's ground, the Mufick would not please.
Chi. I care not, I, knew she and all the World,
I love Lavinia more than all the World.
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