you

?

Whose friend in justice thou haft ever been,
Send thee by me their tribune and their truft,
This palliament of white and fpotlefs 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 fhakes for age and feebleness:
What! fhould I don this robe and trouble
Be chofe with proclamations to-day,
To-morrow, yield up rule, refign my life,
And set abroach new business for you all?
Rome, I have been thy foldier forty years,
And led my country's ftrength fuccessfully;
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,
But not a fcepter to controll the world.
Upright he held it, lords, that held it laft.

Mar. Titus, thou fhalt 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 fheath them not
Till Saturninus be Rome's emperor.

Andronicus, 'would thou were fhip'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 themfelves. -don this robe, &c.]i. e. do on this robe, put it on. So in

Macbeth,

i. e.

e. put them off.

doff their dire diftreffes,

STEEVENS.

Baf.

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 afk 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 will with deeds requite thy gentleness;
And for an onfet, Titus, to advance

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

Rome's royal miftrefs, mistress of my heart,
And in the facred Pantheon her efpouse.

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

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 Tamora. To him, that for your honour and your state Will ufe you nobly, and your followers.

Sat. A goodly lady, truft me, of the hue
That I would chufe, were I to chufe anew.
-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 noblity
Warrants these words in princely courtefy.

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, this maid is mine.

[Seizing Larinia. Tit. How, fir? are you in earnest then, my lord? Baf. Ay, noble Titus, and refolv'd withal,

To do myself this reafon and this right.

[The Emperor courts Tamora in dumb fhew. Mar. Suum cuique is our Roman juftice: This prince in juftice feizeth but his own.

Luc.

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.

Tit. No, foolish tribune, no. No fon of mine,→→ Nor thou, nor these confederates in the deed, That hath difhonour'd 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 this tomb; This monument five hundred years hath ftood, Which I have sumptuously re-edified;

Here none but foldiers, and Rome's fervitors,
Repofe in fame: none bafely flain 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 brethren.

[Titus' fons Speak. Sons. And fhall, or him we will accompany. Tit. And fhall? what villain was it spoke that word? [Titus' son speaks.

Quin. He, that would vouch't in any place but 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, 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 fons 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 reft will fpeed. Mar. Renowned Titus, more than half my foul,Luc. Dear father, foul and fubftance of us all,Mar. Suffer thy brother Marcus to inter His noble nephew here in virtue's neft, That died in honour, and Lavinia's caufe. Thou art a Roman, be not barbarous. The Greeks, upon advice, did bury Ajax,? That flew himself, and wife Laertes' fon Did graciously plead for his funerals. Let not young Mutius then, that was thy joy, Be barr'd his entrance here.

Tit. Rife, Marcus, rife.

The difmall'ft day is this, that e'er I faw,
To be dishonour'd by my fons in Rome.
Well; bury him, and bury me the next.

[They put him in the tomb. Luc. There lie thy bones, fweet Mutius, with thy

friends.

Till we with trophies do adorn thy tomb!

[They all kneel, and fay; -No man fhed tears for noble Mutius;

He lives in fame, that died in virtue's caufe.
Mar. My lord, to step out of thefe dreary dumps,
How comes it, that the fubtle queen of Goths
Is of a fudden thus advanc'd in Rome?

7 The Greeks, upon advice, did burg Ajax,
That flew himself; and wife Laeries' jon
Did graciously plead for his funerals.]

This paffage alone would fufficiently convince me, that the play before us was the work of one who was converfant with the Greek tragedies in their original language. This is a plain allufion to the Ajax of Sophocles, of which no tranflation was extant in the time of Shakespeare. In that piece, Agamemnon confents at laft to allow Ajax the rites of fepulture, and Ulyffes is the pleader, whofe arguments prevail in favour of his remains. STELVENS.

VOL. VIII.

Ee

Tit.