Then let my father's honours live in me,
Nor wrong mine age with this indignity.
Baf. Romans, friends, foll'wers, favourers of my right, If ever Baffianus, Cæfar's fon,
Were gracious in the eyes of royal Rome,
Keep then this paffage to the Capitol ;
But fuffer not difhonour to approach
Th' imperial feat, to virtue confecrate,
To juftice, continence, and nobility:
And let defert in pure election fhine;
And, Romans, fight for freedom in your chice.
Enter Marcus Andronicus aloft, with the crown,
Mar. Princes that strive by factions, and by friends, Ambitiously for rule and empery!
Know, that the people of Rome, for whom we ftand
A fpecial party, have by common voice,
In election for the Roman empery,
Chofen Andronicus, furnamed Pius,
For many good and great deserts to Rome.
A nobler man, a braver warrior,
Lives not this day within our city-walls.
He by the fenate is accited home,
From weary wars against the barb'rous Goths;
That with his fons (a terror to our foes)
Hath yok❜d a nation strong, train'd up in arms..
Ten years are spent since first he undertook
This caufe of Rome, and chastised with arms
Our enemies' pride. Five times he hath return'd
Bleeding to Rome, bearing his valiant fons
In coffins from the field.-
And now at laft laden with honour's spoils,
Returns the good Andronicus to Rome,
Renowned Titus, flourishing in arms,
Let us entreat, by honour of his name,
Whom (worthily) you would have now fucceed,
And in the Capitol and fenate's right,
Whom you pretend to honour and adore,
withdraw you, and abate your strength; Difmifs your followers, and, as fuitors fhould,
Sat. How fair the Tribune fpeaks to calm my thoughts!
Baf. Marcus Andronicus, fo I do affy
In thy uprightnefs and integrity,
And fo I love and honour thee and thine;
Thy noble brother Titus, and his fons,
And her to whom our thoughts are humbled all,
Gracious Lavinia, Rome's rich ornament;
That I will here difmifs my loving friends;
And to my fortunes, and my people's favour,
Commit my cause in balance to be weigh'd.
[Exeunt foldiers. Sat. Friends, that have been thus forward in my right, I thank you all, and here dismiss you all; And to the love and favour of my country Commit myself, my perfon, and the caufe. Rome, be as juft and gracious unto me, As I am confident and kind to thee. Open the gates, and let me in.
Baf. Tribunes, and me, a poor competitor.
[They go up into the fenate-house.
SCENE II. Enter a Captain.
Capt. Romans, make way: the good Andronicus, Patron of virtue, Rome's beft champion,
Successful in the battles that he fights,
With honour and with fortune is return'd,
From whence he circumfcribed with his fword,
And brought to yoke the enemies of Rome.
Sound drums and trumpets, and then enter Mutius and Marcus; after them, two men bearing a coffin cover'd with black; then Quintus and Lucius. After them, Titus Andronicus; and then Tamora, the Queen of Goths, Alarbus, Chiron, and Demetrius, with Aaron the Moor, prifo ners; foldiers, and other attendants. They fet down the coffin, and Titus fpeaks.
Tit. Hail, Rome, victorious in thy mourning-weeds! Lo, as the bark, that hath discharg'd her freight, Returns with precious lading to the bay, From whence at firft fhe weigh'd her anchorage; Cometh Andronicus with laurel boughs, To re-falute his country with his tears; Tears of true joy for his return to Rome.
Thou great defender of this Capitol,
Stand gracious to the rites that we intend !
Romans, of five and twenty valiant fons,
Half of the number that King Priam had,
Behold the poor remains alive and dead !
These that furvive let Rome reward with love;
Thefe that I bring unto their latest home,
With burial among their ancestors.
Here Goths have given me leave to fheath
Titus, unkind, and careless of thine own,
Why fuffer'ft thou thy fons, unburied yet,
To hover on the dreadful shore of Styx?
Make way to lay them by their brethren.
[They open the Tamb. There greet in filence, as the dead are wont, And fleep in peace, flain in your country's wars. O facred receptacle of my joys,
Sweet cell of virtue and nobility,
How many fons of mine haft thou in store,
That thou wilt never render to me more?
Luc. Give us the proudeft prifoner of the Goths,
That we may hew his limbs, and on a pile,
Ad manes fratrum facrifice his flesh,
Before this earthly prison of their bones:
That fo the fhadows be not unappeas'd,
Nor we disturb'd with prodigies on earth.
Tit. I give him you, the nobleft that survives:
The eldest fon of this diftreffed Queen.
Tam. Stay, Roman brethren, gracious conqueror
Victorious Titus, rue the tears I shed,
A mother's tears in paffion for her fon :
And, if thy sons were ever dear to thee,
O, think my fons to be as dear to me.
Sufficeth not that we are brought to Rome,
To beautify thy triumphs and return,
Captive to thee and to thy Roman yoke;
But must my fons be flaughter'd in the streets,
For valiant doings in their country's cause?
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 first-born son.
Tit. Patient yourfelf, Madam, and pardon me.
Thefe 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 mark'd, and die he muft, T' appeate their groning fhadows that are gone. Luc. Away with him, and make a fire ftraight. And with our fwords, 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 ?
Dem. Oppofe me Scythia to ambitious Rome.
Alarbus, go to reft! and we furvive
To tremble under Titus' threat'ning looks.
Then, Madam, ftand refolv'd; but hope withal,
The felf-fame gods that arm'd the Queen of Troy
With opportunity of sharp revenge
Upon the Thracian tyrant + in her tent,
May favour Tamora, the Queen of Goths,
(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 lopp'd;
And intrails feed the facrificing fire;
Whose smoke, like incenfe, doth perfume the fky.
Remaineth nought but to inter our brethren,
And with loud 'larums welcome them to Rome.
Tit. Let it be fo, and let Andronicus
Make this his lateft farewel to their fouls.
[Then found trumpets, and lay the coffins in the tomb. peace and honour reft you here, my fons, Rome's readiest champions, repose you here,
† Polymneftor, whofe eyes were pulled out, and fons murder ed by Hecuba, in revenge for his having treacheroufly flain her for Polydore. Eurip. in Hec.
Secure from worldly chances and mishaps.
Here lurks no treafon, here no envy fwells;
Here grow no damned grudges, here no storms,
No noife; but filence and eternal sleep.
In peace and honour rest you here, my fons!
SCENE III. Enter Lavinia.
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, blefs me here with thy victorious hand,
Whose fortune Rome's best citizens applaud.
Tit. Kind Rome, that haft this lovingly preferv'd
The cordial of mine age, to glad mine heart!
Lavinia, live; outlive thy father's days,
In Fame's eternal date of Virtue's praise !
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 draw your swords.
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,
Whole friend in justice thou haft ever been,
Send thee by me their Tribune, and their trust,
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 shakes for age and feebleness.
What! fhoud I don this rob, and trouble you?
Be chofe with proclamations to-day,
To-morrow yield up rule, refign my life,
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