To beautifie thy triumphs and return,
Captive to thee and to thy Roman yoak?
But muft my fons be flaughter'd in the streets
For valiant doings in their country's caufe?
O! if to fight for King and common-weal
Were piety in thine, it is in thefe:
Andronicus, ftain 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, fpare my firft-born fon.

Tit. Patient your felf, Madam, and pardon me,
These are their brethren, whom you Goths behold
Alive and dead, and for their brethren flain
Religiously they ask a facrifice

To this your fon is markt, and die he muft,
T' appeafe their groaning fhadows that are gone.
Luc. Away with him, and make a fire ftraight.
And with our swords, upon a pile of wood,
Let's hew his limbs, 'till they be clean confum'd.
[Exeunt Mutius, Marcus, Quintus and Lucius with
Alarbus.

Tam. O cruel irreligious piety!

Chi. Was ever Scythia half fo barbarous ?

2

Dem. Oppofe 'not Scythia to ambitious Rome.
Alarbus 'goes to reft, and we survive

To tremble under Titus' threatning looks.

Then, Madam, ftand refolv'd; but hope withal,

The felf-fame Gods that arm'd the Queen of Troy
With opportunity of fharp revenge

Upon the Thracian a tyrant in 'her` tent,

May favour Tamora, the Queen of Goths,

(When

(a) Polymneftor, whofe eyes were pulled out and fons murder'd by Hecuba, in revenge for his having treacherously flain her fon Polydore, Euripid. in Hec.

2 me

3 go 4 his... old edit. Theob. emend.

(When Goths were Goths, and Tamora was Queen) To quit her bloody wrongs upon her foes.

Enter Mutius, Marcus, Quintus and Lucius.
Luc. See, Lord and father, how we have perform'd
Our Roman rites: Alarbus' limbs are lopt,
And intrails feed the facrificing fire,

Whose smoke, like incenfe, doth perfume the sky.
Remaineth nought but to interr our brethren,
And with loud larums welcome them to Rome.
Tit. Let it be fo, and let Andronicus
Make this his latest farewel to their fouls.

[Then found trumpets, and lay the coffins in the tomb.

In peace and honour reft you here, my fons,
Rome's readieft champions, repofe you here,
Secure from worldly chances and mishaps:
Here lurks no treafon, here no envy fwells,
Here grow no damned grudges, here no ftorms,
No noife: but filence and eternal sleep:
In peace and honour reft you here, my fons!

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 brethrens obfequies:
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 fortune Rome's beft citizens applaud.

Tit. Kind Rome, that haft thus lovingly ''preferv'd The cordial of mine age, to glad mine heart!

Lavinia, live, out-live thy father's days,

In fame's eternal date for virtue's praise!

5 referv'd

6 And... old edit. Theob. emend.

Mar.

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

Tit. Thanks, gentle Tribune, noble brother Marcus. Mar. And welcome, nephews, from fuccessful wars, You that furvive, and you that fleep in fame: Fair Lords, your fortunes are alike in all, That in your country's fervice drew your fwords. But fafer triumph is this funeral pomp That hath afpir'd to Solon's happiness, And triumphs over chance in honour's bed. Titus Andronicus, the people of Rome, Whofe friend in juftice thou haft ever been, Send thee by me their Tribune, 7in their truft, This palliament of white and spotlefs hue, And name thee in election for the empire, With these our late deceased Emperor's fons; Be Candidatus then, and put it on, And help to fet 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 chofe with proclamations to-day, To-morrow yield up rule, refign my life, And fet abroach new bufinefs for you all? Rome, I have been thy foldier forty years, And led my country's ftrength fuccefsfully, And buried one and twenty valiant fons, Knighted in field, flain manfully in arms, In right and fervice of their noble country. Give me a staff of honour for mine age, But not a fceptre to controul the world. Upright he held it, Lords, that held it laft. Mar. Titus, thou fhalt /obtain the empery. Sat. Proud and ambitious Tribune, canft thou tell? Tit. Patience, prince 'Saturnine!`

Sat

Sat. Romans, do me right!

Patricians, draw your fwords, and fheath them not
'Till Saturninus be Rome's Emperor.

Andronicus, would thou wert fhipt 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, Baf. Andronicus, I do not flatter thee,

But honour thee, and will do 'till I die:
My faction if thou ftrengthen with thy friends,
I will most thankful be; and thanks, to men
Of noble minds, is honourable meed.

Tit. People of Rome, and noble Tribunes here,
I ask your voices, and your fuffrages;
Will you bestow them friendly on Andronicus?
Mar. To gratifie the good Andronicus,

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

Tit. Tribunes, I thank you, and this fuit I make,
That you create your Emperor's eldest fon,
Lord Saturnine; whofe virtues will, I hope,
Reflect on Rome, as Titan's rays on earth,
And ripen juftice in this common-weal.
Then if you will elect by my advice,
Crown him, and fay, Long live our Emperor!
Mar. With voices and applaufe of every fort,
Patricians and Plebeians, we create

Lord Saturninus, Rome's great Emperor;
And fay, Long live our Emperor Saturnine!

[A long flourish 'till they come down. 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 onfet, Titus, to advance

Thy

Thy name, and honourable family,
Lavinia will I make my Emperefs,

Rome's royal miftrefs, mistress of my heart,
And in the facred 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 fight of Rome, to Saturninus,
King and commander of our common-weal,
The wide world's Emperor, do I confecrate
My fword, my chariot, and my prisoners;
Prefents well worthy Rome's imperial Lord.
Receive them then, the tribute that I owe,
Mine honour's enfigns humbled at thy feet.
Sat. Thanks, noble Titus, father of my life.
How proud I am of thee, and of thy gifts,
Rome fhall record; and when I do forget
The least of these unspeakable deferts,
Romans, forget your fealty to me.

Tit. Now, Madam, are you prifoner to an Emperor, To him that for your honour and your state

Will-use you nobly, and your followers.

Sat. A goodly Lady, truft me, of the hue [To Tamora. That I would chufe, were I to chufe a-new:

Clear up, fair Queen, that cloudy countenance;

Tho' chance of war hath wrought this change of cheer, Thou com'ft not to be made a fcorn in Rome: Princely shall be thy ufage every way.

Reft on my word, and let not discontent

Daunt all your hopes: Madam, who comforts you
Can make you greater than the Queen of Goths.
Lavinia, you are not difpleas'd with this?

Lav. Not I, my Lord, fith true nobility
Warrants these words in princely courtefie.

Sat. Thanks, fweet Lavinia. Romans, let us go.
Ranfomlefs here we fet our prisoners free;
Proclaim our honours, Lord, with trump and drum.

Baf.