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Enter three or four Conspirators of AUFIDIUS's faction.
How is it with our general?
Most noble sir,
SCENE V.-Antium. A public Place.
Deliver them this paper: having read it,
'Twixt you there's difference; but the fall of either
Makes the survivor heir of all.
I know it;
Which he did end all his; and took some pride
I had been mercenary.
He water'd his new plants with dews of flattery,
Third Con. Sir, his stoutness
So he did, my lord: 0 The army marvell'd at it; and, in the last, When he had carried Rome, and that we look'd For no less spoil than glory,
There was it;
And had no welcomes home; but he returns,
With giving him glory.
Say no more:
Subscribed by the consuls and patricians,
In mine own person; holp to reap the fame
You lords and heads o' the state, perfidiously 90
Hear'st thou, Mars? Auj. Name not the god, thou boy of tears. Cor.
Auf. No more.
Too great for what contains it. Boy! O slave!
Must give this cur the lie: and his own notion,
Second Lord. Peace, ho! no outrage: peace! The man is noble and his fame folds in This orb o' the earth. His last offences to us Shall have judicious hearing. Stand, Aufidius, And trouble not the peace.
Let him die for 't.
All the People. Tear him to pieces.-Do it presently. He killed my son.-My daughter.He killed my cousin Marcus.-He killed my father.
Cor. O! that I had him, With six Aufidiuses, or more, his tribe, To use my lawful sword.
Insolent villain! All Con. Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill him! AUFIDIUS and the Conspirators draw, and kill CORIOLANUS, who falls: AUFIDIUS stands on his body. Lords. Hold, hold, hold, hold! 130 Auf. My noble masters, hear me speak. First Lord. O Tullus! Second Lord. Thou hast done a deed whereat valour will weep.
Third Lord. Tread not upon him. Masters all, be quiet.
Put up your swords.
Auf. My lords, when you shall know, as in this rage,
Provok'd by him, you cannot, the great danger
Auf My rage is gone, And I am struck with sorrow. Take him up: Help, three o' the chiefest soldiers; I'll be one. Beat thou the drum, that it speak mournfully; Trail your steel pikes. Though in this city he Hath widow'd and unchilded many a one, Which to this hour bewail the injury, Yet he shall have a noble memory. Assist.
Exeunt, bearing the body of CORIOLANUS. A dead march sounded.
SATURNINUS, Son to the late Emperor of Rome, SEMPRONIUS,
CAIUS, Kinsmen to Titus.
ÆMILIUS, a noble Roman.
DEMETRIUS, Sons to Tamora. MARCUS ANDRONICUS, Tribune of the People, CHIRON, and brother to Titus.
AARON, a Joor, beloved by Tamora. LUCIUS,
A Captain, Tribune, Messenyer, and Clown. QUINTUS,
Goths and Romans.
TAMORA, Queen of the Goths.
LAVINIA, Daughter to Titus Andronicus. Young LUCIUS, a Boy, Son to Lucius.
A Nurse, and a black Child. Publius, Son to Marcus Andronicus.
Senators, Tribunes, Officers, Soldiers, and Attendants.
SCENE - Rome, and the Country near it.
Know that the people of Rome, for whom we
stand SCENE I. - Rome.
A special party, have by common voice, The Tomb of the Andronici appearing. The Tribunes In election for the Roman empery,
and Senators aloft ; and then enter SATURNI- Chosen Andronicus, surnamed Pius, NUS and his Followers at one door, and BAS
For many good and great deserts to Rome : SIANUS and his Followers at the other, with Lives not this day within the city walls :
A nobler man, a braver warrior, drum and colours,
He by the senate is accited home Sat. Noble patricians, patrons of my right, From weary wars against the barbarous Goths; Defend the justice of my cause with arms; That, with his sons, a terror to our foes, And, countrymen, my loving followers,
Hath yok'd a nation strong, train'd up in arms. Plead my successive title with your swords : Ten years are spent since first he undertook a I am his first-born son, that was the last
This cause of Rome, and chastised with arms That wore the imperial diadem of Rome; Our enemies' pride : five times he hath retum d Then let my father's honours live in me, Bleeding to Rome, bearing his valiant sons Nor wrong mine age with this indignity.
In coffins from the field ; Bass. Romans, friends, followers, favourers of And now at last, laden with honour's spoils, my right,
Returns the good Andronicus to Rome, If ever Bassianus, Cæsar's son,
10 Renowned Titus, flourishing in arms. Were gracious in the eyes of royal Rome, Let us entreat, by honour of his name, Keep then this passage to the Capitol,
Whom worthily you would have now succeed, And suffer not dishonour to approach
And in the Capitol and senate's right, The imperial seat, to virtue consecrate,
Whom you pretend to honour and adore, To justice, continence, and nobility ;
That you withdraw you and abate your strength; But let desert in pure election shine,
Dismiss your followers, and, as suitors should, And, Romans, fight for freedom in your choice. Plead your deserts in peace and humbleness. Enter MARCUS ANDRONICUS, aloft, with the
Sat. How fair the tribune speaks to calm my
Bass. Marcus Andronicus, so I do affy Marc. Princes, that strive by factions and by In thy uprightness and integrity, friends
And so I love and honour thee and thine, Ambitiously for rule and empery,
Thy noble brother Titus and his sons,
And her to whom my thoughts are humbled all,
I thank you all and here dismiss you all;
Bass. Tribunes, and me, a poor competitor.
Cap. Romans, make way! the good Andronicus,
Tit. Hail, Rome, victorious in thy mourning
Lo! as the bark, that hath discharg'd her fraught,
Nor we disturb'd with prodigies on earth.
Tam. Stay, Roman brethren! Gracious con-
Victorious Titus, rue the tears I shed,
Tit. Patient yourself, madam, and pardon me.
To appease their groaning shadows that are gone.
And with our swords, upon a pile of wood,
Re-enter LUCIUS, QUINTUS, MARTIUS, and
Titus, unkind and careless of thine own,
Luc. See, lord and father, how we have
Our Roman rites. Alarbus' limbs are lopp'd,
Here Goths have given me leave to sheathe my And entrails feed the sacrificing fire,
O sacred receptacle of my joys,
Luc. Give us the proudest prisoner of the
That we may hew his limbs, and on a pile
Whose smoke, like incense, doth perfume the sky.
Lav. In peace and honour live Lord Titus long; 100 My noble lord and father, live in fame!
Lo! at this tomb my tributary tears
The cordial of mine age to glad my heart!
Gracious triumpher in the eyes of Rome!
Marc. And welcome, nephews, from successful
You that survive, and you that sleep in fame!
And help to set a head on headless Rome.
Tit. A better head her glorious body fits Than his that shakes for age and feebleness. What should I don this robe, and trouble you? Be chosen with proclamations to-day, To-morrow yield up rule, resign my life, And set abroad new business for you all? Rome, I have been thy soldier forty years, And led my country's strength successfully, And buried one-and-twenty valiant sons, Knighted in field, slain manfully in arms, In right and service of their noble country. Give me a staff of honour for mine age, But not a sceptre to control the world: Upright he held it, lords, that held it last. Marc. Titus, thou shalt obtain and ask the
Sat. Proud and ambitious tribune, canst thou tell?
Tit. Patience, Prince Saturninus. Sat. Romans, do me right: Patricians, draw your swords, and sheathe them
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 them. selves.
Tit. People of Rome, and noble tribunes here, I ask your voices and your suffrages: Will you bestow them friendly on Andronicus ? Tribunes. To gratify the good Andronicus, 220 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,
Buss. 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. 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 commonweal, The wide world's emperor, do I consecrate My sword, my chariot, and my prisoners; Presents well worthy Rome's imperious 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. To TAMORA. Now, madam, are you prisoner to an emperor;
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
Thou com'st not to be made a scorn in Rome:
Lav. Not I, my lord; sith true nobility
Sat. Thanks, sweet Lavinia. Romans, let us go: Ransomless here we set our prisoners free: Proclaim our honours, lords, with trump and drum.
Bass. Lord Titus, by your leave, this maid is mine. Seizing LAVINIA. Tit. How, sir! Are you in earnest then, my lord?