Tit. Content thee, Prince; I will reftore 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 moft 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 beftow them friendly on Andronicus? Mar. To gratify the good Andronicus, And gratulate his fafe return to Rome, The people will accept whom he admits, Tit. Tribunes, I thank you, and this fuit I make, Crown him, and fay,---Long live our Emperor Lord Saturninus, Rome's great Emperor; I give thee thanks in part of thy deferts, Rome's royal mistress, mistress of my heart, hold me highly honoured of your Grace : Sat. Thanks, noble Titus, father of my life!! Til. Now, Madam, are you prifoner to an Em peror; To him, that for r your honour and your state: 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 comelt not to be made a fcorn in Rome:, Reft on my word, and let not discontent Lav. Not I, my Lord; fith true nobility Sat. Thanks, fweet Lavinia; Romans, let us go. Ranfomlefs here we fet our prifoners free; Proclaim our honours, Lords, with trump and drum. Baf Lord Titus, by your leave, is maid is mine. [Seizing Lavinia. Tit How, Sir? are you in earneft then, my Lord?* Baf. Ay, noble Titus; and resolved withal To do myfelf this reafon and this right. [The Emperor courts Tamora in dumb fhew. Mar. Suum cuique is our Roman justice: This prince in justice feizeth but his own. Luc. And that he will, and fhall, if Lucius live. Tit. Traitors avant! where is the Emperor's guard? Treafon, my Lord; Lavinia is furprized. Sat. Surprized! by whom? Baf. By him that juftly may Bear his betrothed from all the world away. [Exit Baffianus with Lavinia. Mut: Brothers, help to convey her hence away,And with my fword I'll keep this door secure. Tit. Follow, my Lord, and I'll foon bring her back: Mut. My Lord, you país not here. Tit. What! villain-boy, Barreft me my way in Rome? Mut. Help, Lucius, help! [He kills him. Luc. My Lord, you are unjust, and more than fo; In wrongful quarrel you have flain your fon. Tit. Nor thou, nor he, are any fons of mine: My fons would never fo difhonour me. Traitor, reftore Lavinia to the Emperor. Luc. Dead, if you will, but not to be his wife, That is another's lawful promifed love. Sat. No, Titus, no, the Emperor needs her not; Was there none else in Rome to make a stale of, Agree thefe de 's with that proud brag of thine, Tit. O monftrous! what reproachful words are thefe! Sat. But go thy ways; go give that changing piece, To him that flourished for her with his fword; One fit to bandy with thy lawless fons, To ruffle in the commonwealth of Rome. Tit. These words are razors to my wounded heart. That, like the ftately Phoebe 'mong her nymphs, I will not re-falute the ftreets of Rome, Tam. And here in fight of Heaven to Rome If Saturnine advance the Queen of Goths, A loving nurse, a mother to his youth.. Sat. Afcend, fair Queen, Pantheon; Lords, accompany Your noble Emperor, and his lovely bride, [Exeunt. Manet TITUS ANDRONICUS. Tit. I am not bid to wait upon this bride. Titus, when wert thou wont to walk alone, Difhonoured thus, and challenged of wrongs! Enter MARCUS ANDRONICUS, LUCIUS, QUINTUS, and MARCUS. Mar. Oh, Titus, fee, oh, see what thou hast done! In a bad quarrel flain a virtuous fon. Tit. No, foolish tribune, no: no son of mine,, Nor thou, nor thefe confederates in the deed, That hath difhonoured all our family; 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 his tomb; This monument five hundred years hath stood, Which I have fumptuously re-edified: Here none but foldiers, and Rome's fervitors, Repofe in fame: none bafely flain in brawl. 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. : [Titus's fons fpeak. Sons. And fhall, or him we will accompany. Tit. And thall? what villain was it fpake that [Titus's fon fpeaks. Quin. He that would vouch't in any place but word? here. Tit. What, would you bury him in my defpight? Mar. No, noble Titus: but intreat of thee To pardon Mutius, and to bury him. Tit. Marcus, even thou haft ftruck upon my crest, |