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But not a sceptre to control the world:
Upright he held it, lords, that held it last.

Mar. Titus, thou shalt obtain and ask the empery.
Sat. Proud and ambitious tribune, canst thou tell?—
Tit. Patience, prince Saturnine.

Sat. Romans, do me right;Patricians, draw your swords, and sheathe them not Till Saturninus be Rome's emperor :Andronicus, 'would thou wert shipp'd to hell, Rather than rob me of the people's hearts.

Luc. Proud Saturnine, interrupter of the good

That noble-minded Titus means to thee!

Tit. Content thee, Prince; I will restore to thee The people's hearts, and wean them from themselves. Bas. Andronicus, I do not flatter thee,

But honour thee, and will do till I die;
My faction if thou strengthen with thy friends,
I will most thankful be: and thanks, to men

Of noble minds, is honourable meed.

Tit. People of Rome, and people's tribunes here,
I ask your voices, and your suffrages;

Will you bestow them friendly on Andronicus?
Trib. To gratify the good Andronicus,

And gratulate his safe return to Rome,
The people will accept whom he admits.

Tit. Tribunes, I thank you: and this suit I make,
That you create your emperor's eldest son,
Lord Saturnine; whose virtues will, I hope,
Reflect on Rome, as Titan's rays on earth,
And ripen justice in this common-weal:
Then if you will elect by my advice,
Crown him, and say,-Long live our emperor!
Mar. With voices and applause of every sort,
Patricians, and plebeians, we create

Lord Saturninus, Rome's great emperor;
And say,-Long live our emperor Saturnine!

[A long Flourish.

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 onset, Titus, to advance
Thy name, and honourable family,
Lavinia will I make my emperess,

Rome's royal mistress, mistress of my heart,
And in the sacred 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 sight of Rome, to Saturnine,-
King and commander of our common-weal,
The wide world's emperor,-do I consecrate
My sword, my chariot, and my prisoners;
Presents well worthy Rome's imperial lord:
Receive them then, the tribute that I owe,
Mine honour's ensigns humbled at thy feet.
Sat. Thanks, noble Titus, father of my life!
How proud I am of thee, and of thy gifts,
Rome shall record; and, when I do forget
The least of these unspeakable deserts,
Romans, forget your fealty to me.

Tit. Now, madam, are you prisoner to an emperor;

[TO TAMORA. To him, that for your honour and your state, Will use you nobly, and your followers.

Sat. A goodly lady, trust me; of the hue That I would choose, were I to choose anew.

Clear up, fair queen, that cloudy countenance;

Though chance of war hath wrought this change of cheer,

Thou com'st not to be made a scorn in Rome:

Princely shall be thy usage every way.

Rest on my word, and let not discontent
Daunt all your hopes; Madam, he comforts you,
Can make you greater than the queen of Goths.—
Lavinia, you are not displeas'd with this?

Lav. Not I, my lord; sith true nobility
Warrants these words in princely courtesy.

Sat. Thanks, sweet Lavinia.-Romans, let us go: Ransomeless here we set oùr prisoners free: Proclaim our honours, lords, with trump and drum.

Bas. Lord Titus, by your leave, this maid is mine.
[Seizing LAV.
Tit. How, sir? Are you in earnest then, my lord?
Bas. Ay, noble Titus; and resolv'd withal,

To do myself this reason and this right.

[The Emperor courts TAM. in dumb show.

Mar. Suum cuique is our Roman justice:

This prince in justice seizeth but his own.
Luc. And that he will, and shall, if Lucius live.
Tit. Traitors, avaunt! Where is the emperor's guard?
Treason, my lord; Lavinia is surpriz'd.

Sat. Surpriz'd! By whom?

Bas.
Bear his betroth'd from all the world away.

By him that justly may

[Exeunt MAR. and BAS. with LAV.

Mut. Brothers, help to convey her hence away,

And with my sword I 'll keep this door safe.

[Exeunt Luc. QUIN. and MAR.

Tit. Follow my lord, and I 'll soon bring her back. Mut. My lord, you pass not here.

Tit.

Barr'st me my way in Rome?

Mut.

What, villain boy!

[TIT. kills MUT.

Help, Lucius, help!

Re-enter LUCIUS.

Luc. My lord, you are unjust; and, more than so,
In wrongful quarrel you have slain your son.
Tit. Nor thou, nor he, are any sons of mine;
My sons would never so 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.

[Exit. Sat. No, Titus, no; the emperor needs her not,

Not her, nor thee, nor any of thy stock:
I'll trust, by leisure, him that mocks me once;
Thee never, nor thy traitorous haughty sons,
Confederates all thus to dishonour me.

Was there none else in Rome to make a stale of,
But Saturnine? Full well, Andronicus,

Agree these deeds with that proud brag of thine,
That said'st, I begg'd the empire at thy hands.

Tit. O monstrous! what reproachful words are these? Sat. But go thy ways; go, give that changing piece To him that flourish'd for her with his sword: A valiant son-in-law thou shalt enjoy ; One fit to bandy with thy lawless sons,

To ruffle in the commonwealth of Rome.

Tit. These words are razors to my wounded heart. Sat. And therefore, lovely Tamora, queen of Goths,That, like the stately Phoebe 'mongst her nymphs, Dost overshine the gallant'st dames of Rome,— If thou be pleas'd with this my sudden choice, Behold, I choose thee, Tamora, for my bride, And will create thee emperess of Rome.

Speak, queen of Goths, dost thou applaud my choice?
And here I swear by all the Roman Gods,-

Sith priest and holy water are so near,
And tapers burn so bright, and every thing
In readiness for Hymeneus stand,-

I will not re-salute the streets of Rome,

Or climb my palace, till from forth this place

I lead espous'd my bride along with me.

Tam. And here, in sight of heaven, to Rome I swear, If Saturnine advance the queen of Goths,

She will a handmaid be to his desires,
A loving nurse, a mother to his youth.

Sat. Ascend, fair queen, Pantheon:-Lords, accom pany

Your noble emperor, and his lovely bride,
Sent by the heavens for prince Saturnine,
Whose wisdom hath her fortune conquered:
There shall we cónsummate our spousal rites.

[Exeunt SAT. and his followers; TAM. and her Sons; AARON and Goths. Tit. I am not bid to wait upon this bride ;— Titus, when wert thou wont to walk alone, Dishonour'd thus, and challenged of wrongs?

Re-enter MARCUS, LUCIUS, QUINTUS, and Martius. Mar. O, Titus, see, O, see, what thou hast done!

In a bad quarrel slain a virtuous son.

Tit. No, foolish tribune, no; no son of mine,

Nor thou, nor these, confederates in the deed
That hath dishonour'd all our family;
Unworthy brother, and unworthy sons!

Luc. But let us give him burial, as becomes
Give Mutius burial with our brethren.

Tit. Traitors, away! he rests not in this tomb.
This monument five hundred years hath stood,
Which I have sumptuously re-edified:

Here none but soldiers, and Rome's servitors,
Repose in fame; none basely slain in brawls:-
Bury him where you can, he comes not here.
Mar. My lord, this is impiety in you:

My nephew Mutius' deeds do plead for him;
He must be buried with his brethren.

Quin. Mart. And shall, or him we will accompany.
Tit. And shall? What villain was it spoke that word?
Quin. He that would vouch 't in any place but here.
Tit. What, would you bury him in my despite?
Mar. No, noble Titus; but entreat of thee

To pardon Mutius, and to bury him.

Tit. Marcus, even thou hast struck upon my crest, And, with these boys, mine honour thou hast wounded: My foes I do repute you every one;

So trouble me no more, but get you gone.

Mart. He is not with himself; let us withdraw.
Quin. Not I, till Mutius' bones be buried.

[MAR. and the sons of TIT. kneet.
Mar. Brother, for in that name doth nature plead.
Quin. Father, and in that name doth nature speak.
Tit. Speak thou no more, if all the rest will speed.
Mar. Renowned Titus, more than half my soul,
Luc. Dear father, soul and substance of us all,
Mar. Suffer thy brother Marcus to interr

His noble nephew here in virtue's nest,
That died in honour and Lavinia's cause.
Thou art a Roman, be not barbarous.
The Greeks, upon advice, did bury Ajax
That slew himself; and wise Laertes' son
Did graciously plead for his funerals.

Let not young Mutius then, that was thy joy,

VOL. XII.

C

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