SCENE II.

The same.

Enter a Captain and others.

Cap. Romans, make way; The good Andronicus, Patron of virtue, Rome's best champion, Successful in the battles that he fights, With honour and with fortune is return'd, From where he circumscribed with his sword, And brought to yoke, the enemies of Rome. Flourish of trumpets, &c. Enter MUTIUS and MARTIUS: after them, two men bearing a coffin covered with black; then QUINTUS and Lucius. After them, TITUS ANDRONICUS; and then TAMORA, with ALARBUS, CHIRON, DEMETRIUS, AARON, and other Goths, prisoners; Soldiers and People, following. The bearers set down the coffin, and TITUS speaks. Tit. Hail, Rome, victorious in thy mourning weeds!

Lo, as the bark, that hath discharg'd her fraught,
Returns with precious lading to the bay,
From whence at first she weigh'd her anchorage,
Cometh Andronicus, bound with laurel boughs,
To re-salute his country with his tears;
Tears of true joy for his return to Rome.
Thou great defender of this Capitol,
Stand gracious to the rites that we intend! ·
Romans, of five and twenty valiant sons,
Half of the number that king Priam had,
Behold the poor remains, alive, and dead!
These, that survive, let Rome reward with love;
These, that I bring unto their latest home,
With burial amongst their ancestors :
Here Goths have given me leave to sheath my sword.
Titus, unkind, and careless of thine own,
Why suffer'st thou thy sons, unburied yet,
To hover on the dreadful shore of Styx!
Make way to lay them by their brethren.
[The tomb is opened,
There greet in silence, as the dead are wont,

And sleep in peace, slain in your country's wars'
O sacred receptacle of my joys,
Sweet cell of virtue and nobility,

How many sons of mine hast thou in store,
That thou wilt never render to me more?

queror,

Victorious Titus, rue the tears I shed,
A mother's tears in passion for her son:
And, if thy sons were ever dear to thee,
O, think my son to be as dear to me.
Sufficeth not, that we are brought to Rome,
To beautify thy triumphs, and return,
Captive to thee, and to thy Roman yoke;
But must my sons be slaughter'd in the streets,
For valiant doings in their country's cause?
O! if to fight for king and common weal
Were piety in thine, it is in these.
Andronicus, stain not thy tomb with blood:
Wilt thou draw near the nature of the gods?
Draw near them then in being merciful :
Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge;
Thrice-noble Titus, spare my first-born son.

Tit. Patient yourself, madam, and pardon me. These are their brethren, whom you Goths beheld Alive, and dead; and for their brethren slain, Religiously they ask a sacrifice :

To this your son is mark'd; and die he must,
To appease their groaning shadows that are gone.
Luc. Away with him; and make a fire straight;
And with our swords, upon a pile of wood,
Let's hew his limbs, till they be clean consum'd.
[Exeunt LUCIUS, QUINTUS, MARTIUS, and
MUTIUS, with ALARBUS.
Tam. O cruel, irreligious piety!
Chi. Was ever Scythia half so barbarous ?
Dem. Oppose not Scythia to ambitious Rome.
Alarbus goes to rest; and we survive
To tremble under Titus' threatening look.
Then, madam, stand resolv'd; but hope withal,
The self-same gods, that arm'd the queen of Troy
With opportunity of sharp revenge
Upon the Thracian tyrant in his tent,
May favour Tamora, the queen of Goths,
(When Goths were Goths, and Tamora was queen,)
To quit the bloody wrongs upon her foes.
Re-enter LUCIUS, QUINTUS, MARTIUS, and MUTIUS,
with their swords bloody.

Luc. See, lord and father, how we have perform'd
Our Roman rites: Alarbus' limbs are lopp'd,
And entrails feed the sacrificing fire,

Whose smoke, like incense, doth perfume the sky.
Remaineth nought, but to inter our brethren,
And with loud 'larums welcome them to Rome.

Tit. Let it be so, and let Andronicus
Make this his latest farewell to their souls.
[Trumpets sourded, and the coffin laid in the tomb.
In peace and honour rest you here, my sons;
Rome's readiest champions, repose you here,
Secure from worldly chances and mishaps!
Here lurks no treason, here no envy sells,

Here grow no damned grudges; here, are no storms, o noise, but silence and eternal sleep:

Enter LAVINIA.

In peace and honour rest you here, my sons!
Lav. In peace and honour live lord Titus long;
My noble lord and father, live in fame!
Lo! at this tomb my tributary tears
I render, for my brethren's obsequies;
And at thy feet I kneel, with tears of joy
Shed on the earth, for thy return to Rome:
O, bless me here with thy victorious hand,
Whose fortunes Rome's best citizens applaud.

Tit. Kind Rome, that hast thus lovingly reserv'd
The cordial of mine age to glad my heart! ·
Lavinia, live; outlive thy father's days,
And fame's eternal date, for virtue's praise!

Enter MARCUS ANDRONICUS, SATURNINUS, BASSIANUS, and others.

Mar. Long live lord Titus, my beloved brother, Gracious triumpher in the eyes of Rome!

Tit. Thanks, gentle tribune, noble brother Mar

CUS.

Mar. And welcome, nephews, from successful

wars,

You that survive, and you that sleep in fame.
Fair lords, your fortunes are alike in all,
That in your country's service drew your swords:
But safer triumph is this funeral pomp,
That hath aspir'd to Solon's happiness,
And triumphs over chance, in honour's bed.
Titus Andronicus, the people of Rome,
Whose friend in justice thou hast ever been,
Send thee by me, their tribune, and their trust,
This palliament of white and spotless hue;
And name thee in election for the empire,
With these our late deceased emperor's sons:
Be candidatus then, and put it on,
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 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.

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 sheath 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.

peror;

Tit. Now, madam, are you prisoner to an em[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,

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.
By him that justiy may
Bear his betroth'd from all the world away.

[Exeunt MARCUS and BASSIANUS, with LAVINIA. Mut. Brothers, help to convey her hence away, And with my sword I'll keep this door safe.

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

Tit.

What, villain boy! Barr'st me my way in Rome? [TITUS kills MUTIUS. 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.

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, ac

company Your noble emperor, and his lovely bride,

My foes I do repute you every one;

So trouble me no more, but get you gone.

company.

Tit. And shall? What villain was it spoke that word?

Quin. He that would vouch't in any place but here.

Mart. He is not with himself; let us withdraw. Quin. Not I, till Mutius' bones be buried. [MARCUS and the sons of TITUS kneel. 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 inter 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, Be barr'd his entrance here.

[MUTIUS is put into the tomb. Luc. There lie thy bones, sweet Mutius, with thy friends,

Till we with trophies do adorn thy tomb!

yours,

Sat. So Bassianus, you have play'd your prize; God give you joy, sir, of your gallant bride. Bas. And you of my lord: I say no more, Nor wish no less; and so I take my leave. Sut. Traitor, if Rome have law, or we have power, Thou and thy faction shall repent this rape.

Bas. Rape, call you it, my lord, to seize my own, My true-betrothed love, and now my wife? But let the laws of Rome determine all; Mean while I am possess'd of that is mine.

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 controll'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!

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. 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

Aside.

highness,

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

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.

Aar. Clubs, clubs! these lovers will not keep
the peace.

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. Aar. Why, how now, lords? So near the emperor's palace dare you draw, And maintain such a quarrel openly? 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 am 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.
Chi. I care not, I, knew she and all the world;
I love Lavinia more than all the world.

Dem. Youngling, learn thou to make some meaner choice:

Lavinia is thine elder brother's hope.

Aar. Why, are ye mad? or know ye not, in Rome
How furious and impatient they be,
And cannot brook competitors in leve?

I tell you, lords, you do but plot your deaths
By this device.

Chi.
Aaron, a thousand deaths
Would I propose, to achieve her whom I love.
Aar. To achieve her! - How?
Dem.

Why mak'st thou it so strange?
She is a woman, therefore may be woo'd;
She is a woman, therefore may be won;
She is Lavinia, therefore must be lov'd.
What, man! more water glideth by the mill
Than wots the miller of; and easy it is
Of a cut loaf to steal a shive, we know:
Though Bassianus be the emperor's brother,
Better than he have yet worn Vulcan's badge.

Aar. Ay, and as good as Saturninus may [Aside. Dem. Then why should he despair, that knows to court it

With words, fair looks, and liberality?
What, hast thou not full often struck a doe,
And borne her cleanly by the keeper's nose?
Aar. Why then, it seems, some certain sna

or so

Would serve your turns.
Chi.
Ay, so the turn were serv'd.
Dem. Aaron, thou hast hit it.
Aar.
'Would you had hit it too;
Then should not we be tir'd with this ado.
Why, hark ye, hark ye,- And are you such fools,
To square for this? Would it offend you then
That both should speed?

I'faith, not me.

Chi. Dem.

Nor me,

So I were one.

Aar. For shame, be friends; and join for that you jar.

'Tis policy and stratagem must do

That you affect; and so must you resolve; That what you cannot, as you would, achieve, You must perforce accomplish as you may. Take this of me, Lucrece was not more chaste Than this Lavinia, Bassianus' love.

A speedier course than lingering languishment
Must we pursue, and I bave found the path.
My lords, a solemn hunting is in hand;
There will the lovely Roman ladies troop:
The forest walks are wide and spacious;
And many unfrequented plots there are,
Fitted by kind for rape and villainy :
Single you thither then this dainty doe,
And strike her home by force, if not by words:
This way, or not at all, stand you in hope.
Come, come, our empress, with her sacred wit,
To villainy and vengeance consecrate,
Will we acquaint with all that we intend;
And she shall file our engines with advice,
That will not suffer you to square yourselves,
But to your wishes' height advance you both.
The emperor's court is like the house of fame,
The palace full of tongues, of eyes, of ears:
The woods are ruthless, dreadful, deaf, and dull;
There speak, and strive, brave boys, and take your

turns:

There serve your lust, shadow'd from heaven's eye, And revel in Lavinia's treasury.