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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 fons;
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 chose with proclamations to-day,
Tó-morrow, yield up rule, resign my life,
And set abroach 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, Nain manfully in arms,
In right and service of their noble country.
Give me a staff of honour for mine age,
But not a scepter to controll the world.
Upright he held it, lords, that held it last.

Mar. Titus, thou shalt obrain and ask the empery,
Sat. Proud and ambitious tribune, canst thou tell?-
Tit. Patience, prince Saturninus.-

Sat. Romans, do me right. Patricians, draw your swords, and sheath them not Till Saturninus be Rome's emperor. Andronicus, 'would thou were ship’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,

-don this robi, &c.]i. e. do on this robe, put it on. So in Macbeth,

doff their dire diftrises, i. e. put them off.



Baf. 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 noble tribunes here,
I ask your voices, and your suffrages;
Will you beftow them friendly on Andronicus ?

Mar. 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 fuit I make,
That you create your emperor's eldeft son,
Lord Saturnine; whose virtues will, I hope,
Reflect on Rome, as Tiran'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
Patricians and Plebeians, we create
Lord Saturninus, Rome's great emperor ;
And say,-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 onset, Titus, to advance
Thy name, and honourable family,
Lavinia will I make my emperess,
Rome's royal mistress, mitress 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 light of Rome, to Saturninus,
King and commander of our common-weal,
The wide world's emperor, do I consecrate


every fort,

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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 enligns 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, niadam, are you prisoner to an emperor;

[To Tamora. To him, that for your honour and your state Will use you nobly, and your

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


queen, that cloudy countenance ;
Tho'chance of war hath wrought this change of cheer,
Thou com'ft not to be made a scorn in Rome;
Princely shall be thy usage every way.
Rest on my word, and let not discontont
Daunt all your hopes; madam, who comforts you,
Can make you greater than the queen of Gochs.
Lavinia, you are not difpleas'd with this?

Lav. Not I, my lord ; fith true noblity Warrants these words in princely courtesy.

Sat. Thanks, sweet Lavinia. Romans, let us go. Ransomless here we set our prisoners free ; Proclaim our honours, lords, with trump and drum. Baf. Lord Titus, by your leave, this maid is mine.

[Seizing Larinia. Tit. How, sir? are you in earnest then, my lord ?

Baf. Ay, noble Titus, and resolv'd withal, To do myself this reason and this right.

[The Emperor courts Tamora ir dumb shew. Mar. Suum cuique is our Roman justice : This prince in justice seizeth but his own.


Enter Marnus Andronicus, Lucius, Quintus, and Marcus.

Mar. Oh, Titus, fee, oh, see, what thou hast done! In a bad quarrel Nain 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 s Unworthy brother, and unworthy fons.

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

Tit. Traitors, away! he refts not in this tomb;
This monument five hundred years hath ftood,
Which I have sumptuously re-edified ;
Here none but soldiers, and Rome's servitors,
Repose in fame: none basely Nain 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 brechren.

(Titus' fons speak. Sons. And shall, or him we will accompany. Tit. And shall? what villain was it spoke that word?

(Titus' fon speaks. Quin. He, that would vouch't in any place but here. Tit. What, would you bury him in my despight?

Mar. No, noble Titus; but intreat of thee To pardon Mutius, and to bury him.

Tit. Marcus, even thou haft ftruck upon my creft,
And with these boys mine honour thou haft wounded.
My foes I do repute you every one ;
So trouble me no more, but get you gone.

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

[The brother and the fors 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 New himself, and wise Laertes' fon
Did graciously plead for his funerals.
Let not young Mutius then, that was thy joy,
Be barr'd his entrance here.

Tit. Rise, Marcus, rise.
The dismall'A day is this, that e'er I saw,
To be dishonour'd by my sons in Rome.
Well ; bury him, and bury me the next.

[Tbey put him in the tomb. Luc. There lie thy bones, sweet Mucius, with thy

friends. Till we with trophies do adorn thy tomb !

[They all kneel, and say; No man shed tears for noble Mutius; He lives in fame, that died in virtue's cause.

Mar. My lord, to step out of these dreary dumps, How comes it, that the subtle queen of Goths Is of a sudden thus advanc'd in Rome ?

7 The Greeks, upon advice, did lury Ajax,
That flew bimself; and wife Laeries' Jon

Did graciously plead for his funirals.] This passage alone would sufficiently convince me, that the play before us was the work of one who was conversant with the Greek tragedies in their original language. This is a plain allufion to the Ajax of Sophocles, of which no translation was extant in the time of Shakespeare. In that piece, Agamemnon contents at lait to allow Ajax' the rites of fepulture, and Ulysses is the pleader, whose arguments prevail in favour of his remains. STEEVENS. Vol. VIII.



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