Tit. Kind Rome, that haft thus lovingly referv'd
The Cordial of mine age, to glad mine heart!
Lavinia, live; out-live thy father's days, (4)
In Fame's eternal Date for virtue's praife!
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 fuccefsful 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, and their trust,
This Palliament of white and spotless hue;
And name thee in election for the Empire,
With thefe 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! fhould 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 fuccefs fully;
And buried one and twenty valiant fons,
Knighted in field, flain manfully in arms,
In Right and Service of their noble Country.
Give me a staff of honour for mine age,

(4) Lavinia, live; cut-live thy Father's days:

And Fame's eternal date for Virtue's praife!] Were the Text to be admitted genuine, nothing could be fo abfurd as for Titus to wish, his Daughter might out-live the eternal Date of Fame. I have by the Change of a fingle Monofyllable, reflor'd the Paffage to a fenfible and kind With..

VOL. VI.

I

But

But not a scepter to controll the world.
Upright he held it, Lords, that held it laft.

Mar. Titus, thou shalt obtain and ask the Empery.
Sat. Proud and ambitious Tribune, canft thou tell?-
Tit. Patience, Prince Saturninus.

Sat. Romans, do me Right.

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

Androncicus, would thou wert shipt 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 reftore to thee The people's hearts, and wean them from themfelves. 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 bestow 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,
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 deferts,

And

And will with deeds requite thy gentleness:
And for an onfet, Titus, to advance
Thy name, and honourable family,
Lavinia will I make my Emperefs,

Rome's royal Miftrefs, Miftrefs of my heart,
And in the facred Pantheon her efpoufe:

Tell me, Andronicus, doth this motion please thee?
Tit. It doth, my worthy Lord; and in this match,
I hold me highly honoured 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 prifoners;
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 leaft of thefe unfpeakable deferts,
Romans forget your fealty to me.

Tit. Now, Madam, are you prifoner to an Emperor ;
To him, that for your honour and your ftate
Will ufe 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 fhall 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 thefe words in princely courtesy.

Sat. Thanks, fweet Lavinia; Romans, let us go. Ranfomless here we fet our prifoners free;

Proclaim our honours, Lords, with trump and drum.

Baf. Lord Titus, by your leave, this maid is mine.

[Seizing Lavinia. Tit. How, Sir?. are you in earneft then, my Lord? Baf. Ay, noble Titus; and refolved withal, To do myfelf this Reafon and this Right.

[The Emperor courts Tamora in dumb Show.

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 furpriz'd.

Sat. Surpriz'd! by whom?

Baf. By him, that justly may

Bear his betroth'd 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 fecure.
Tit. Follow, my Lord, and I'll foon bring her back.
Mut. My Lord, you pass not here-

Tit. What! villain-boy,

Barr'ft me my way in Rome ?

Mut. Help, Lucius, help!

[He kills him.

Luc. My Lord, you are unjuft, 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 dishonour me.
Traitor, reftore Lavinia to the Emperor.

Luc. Dead, if you will, but not to be his wife,
That is another's lawful promis'd love.

Sat. No, Titus, no, the Emperor needs her not;
Nor her, nor thee, nor any of thy stock;
I'll truft by leifure him, that mocks me once:
Thee never, nor thy traiterous haughty fons,
Confederates all, thus to dishonour me.

Was there none elfe in Rome to make a Stale of,
But Saturnine? full well, Andronicus,
Agree thefe deeds with that proud brag of thine,
That faid'ft, I begg'd the Einpire at thy hands.
Tit. O monftrous! what reproachful words are these?

Sat.

Sat. But go thy ways: go give that changing piece, To him that flourish'd for her with his fword; A valiant fon-in-law thou fhalt enjoy: One fit to bandy with thy lawlefs fons, To ruffle in the Commonwealth of Rome.

Tit. Thefe words are razors to my wounded heart. Sat. And therefore, lovely Tamora, Queen of Goths, That, like the ftately Phabe 'mong her Nymphs, Doft over-fhine the gallant'ft Dames of Rome; I thou be pleas'd with this my fudden choice, Behold, I chufe thee, Tamora, for my bride, And will create thee Emperefs of Rome. Speak, Queen of Goths, doft thou applaud my choice? And here I fwear by all the Roman Gods, (Sith prieft and holy water are fo near, And tapers burn fo bright, and every thing In readiness for Hymeneus itands,)

I will not re-falute the ftreets of Rome,

Or climb my palace, till from forth this place

I lead efpous'd my bride along with me.

Tam. And here in fight of heav'n to Rome I fwear, If Saturnine advance the Queen of Goths,

She will a handmaid be to his defires,
A loving nurfe, a mother to his youth.

Sat. Afcend, fair Queen, Pantheon; Lords, accompany
Your noble Emperor, and his lovely bride,
Sent by the heavens for Prince Saturnine;
Whofe wifdom hath her fortune conquered:
There fhall we confummate our fpoufal rites. [Exeunt.
Manet Titus Andronicus.

Tit. I am not bid to wait upon this bride. Titus, when wert thou wont to walk alone, Dishonour'd thus, and challenged of wrongs?

Enter Marcus Andronicus, Lucius, Quintus, and Marcus.

Mar. Oh, Titus, fee, oh, fee, what thou haft done? In a bad quarrel flain a virtuous fon. I 3

Tit.