All Consp.

Let him die for't.

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"Do it present

All the people. "Tear him to pieces."

ly."

'He killed my son." "My daughter." "He killed my cousin Marcus." "He killed my father."

Sec. Lord. Peace, ho! no outrage: peace!
The man is noble and his fame folds-in

This orb o' the earth. His last offences to us
Shall have judicious hearing. Stand, Aufidius,
And trouble not the peace.

Cor.
O that I had him,
With six Aufidiuses, or more, his tribe,
To use my lawful sword!

Auf

Insolent villain!

All Consp. Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill him!

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[The Conspirators draw, and kill Coriolanus: Aufidius stands on his body.

Lords.

Hold, hold, hold, hold!

Auf. My noble masters, hear me speak.
First Lord.

O Tullus,

Sec. Lord. Thou hast done a deed whereat valour will

weep.

Third Lord. Tread not upon him. Masters all, be quiet; Put up your swords.

Auf My lords, when you shall know-as in this rage, Provoked by him, you cannot-the great danger Which this inan's life did owe you, you'll rejoice That he is thus cut off. Please it your honours To call me to your senate, I'll deliver Myself your loyal servant, or endure

Your heaviest censure.

First Lord.

Bear from hence his body;

And mourn you for him: let him be regarded
As the most noble corse that ever herald

Did follow to his urn.

Sec. Lord.

His own impatience

Takes from Aufidius a great part of blame.
Let's make the best of it.

Auf.
My rage is gone;
And I am struck with sorrow. Take him up.
Help, three o' the chiefest soldiers; I'll be one.
Beat thou the drum, that it speak mournfully:
Trail your steel pikes. Though in this city he
Hath widow'd and unchilded many a one,
Which to this hour bewail the injury,
Yet he shall have a noble memory.
Assist.

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150

A

[Exeunt, bearing the body of Coriolanus. dead march sounded.

TITUS ANDRONICUS.

DRAMATIS PERSONE.

SATURNINUS, son to the late Em-
peror of Rome, and afterwards
declared Emperor.
BASSIANUS, brother to Saturni-
nus; in love with Lavinia.
TITUS ANDRONICUS, a noble Ro-.
man, general against the Goths,
MARCUS ANDRONICUS, tribune of
the people, and brother to
Titus.

LUCIUS,

A Captain, Tribune, Messenger, and Clown; Romans.

QUINTUS, sons to Titus Andro- Goths and Romans.

PUBLIUS, Son to Marcus the Tri- Senators, Tribunes, Officers, Sol

bune.

diers, and Attendants.

SCENE: Rome and the country near it.

ACT I.

SCENE I. Rome. Before the Capitol.

The Tomb of the ANDRONICI appearing; the Tribunes and Senators aloft. Enter, below, from one side, SATURNINUS and his Followers; and, from the other side, BASSIANUS and his Followers; with drum and colours.

Sat. Noble patricians, patrons of my right,
Defend the justice of my cause with arms,
And, countrymen, my loving followers,
Plead my successive title with your swords:
I am his first-born son, that was the last
That wore the imperial diadem of Rome;
Then let my father's honours live in me,
Nor wrong mine age with this indignity.

Bas. Romans, friends, followers, favourers of my right, If ever Bassianus, Cæsar's son,

Were gracious in the eyes of royal Rome,
Keep then this passage to the Capitol
And suffer not dishonour to approach
The imperial seat, to virtue consecrate,
To justice, continence and nobility;
But let desert in pure election shine,

And, Romans, fight for freedom in your choice.

Enter MARCUS ANDRONICUS, aloft, with the crown.

Marc. Princes, that strive by factions and by friends Ambitiously for rule and empery,

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Know that the people of Rome, for whom we stand

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A special party, have, by common voice,
In election for the Roman empery,

Chosen Andronicus, surnamed Pius

For many good and great deserts to Rome:
A nobler man, a braver warrior,

Lives not this day within the city walls:
He by the senate is accited home

From weary wars against the barbarous Goths;
That, with his sons, a terror to our foes,

Hath yoked a nation strong, train'd up in arms.
Ten years are spent since first he undertook
This cause of Rome and chastised with arms
Our enemies' pride: five times he hath return'd
Bleeding to Rome, bearing his valiant sons
In coffins from the field;

And now at last, laden with honour's spoils,
Returns the good Andronicus to Rome,
Renowned Titus, flourishing in arms.
Let us entreat, by honour of his name,

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Whom worthily you would have now succeed,

40

And in the Capitol and senate's right,

Whom you pretend to honour and adore,

That you withdraw you and abate your strength;

Dismiss your followers and, as suitors should,

Plead your deserts in peace and humbleness.

Sat. How fair the tribune speaks to calm my thoughts! Bas. Marcus Andronicus, so I do affy

In thy uprightness and integrity,

And so I love and honour thee and thine,

Thy noble brother Titus and his sons,

And her to whom my thoughts are humbled all,
Gracious Lavinia, Rome's rich ornament,

That I will here dismiss my loving friends,

50

And to my fortunes and the people's favour
Commit my cause in balance to be weigh'd.

[Exeunt the Followers of Bassianus. 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 person and the cause.

[Exeunt the Followers of Saturninus.

Rome, be as just and gracious unto me
As I am confident and kind to thee.

Open the gates, and let me in.

Bas. Tribunes, and me, a poor competitor.

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[Flourish. Saturninus and Bassianus go up into the

Enter a Captain.

Cap. Romans, make way: the good Andronicus, Patron of virtue, Rome's best champion,

Successful in the battles that he fights,

With honour and with fortune is return'd
From where he circumscribed with his sword,
And brought to yoke, the enemies of Rome.

Capitol.

Drums and trumpets sounded. Enter MARTIUS and MUTIUS; after them, two Men bearing a coffin covered with black; then Lucius and QUINTUS. After them, TITUS ANDRONICUS; and then TAMORA, with ALARBUS, DEMETRIUS, CHIRON, AARON, and other Goths, prisoners; Soldiers and People following. The Bearers set down the coffin, and TITUS speaks.

Tit. Hail, Rome, victorious in thy mourning weeds! 70
Lo, as the bark, that hath discharged her fraught,
Returns with precious lading to the bay

From whence at first she weigh'd her anchorage,
Cometh Andronicus, bound with laurel boughs,
To re-salute 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 sons,
Half of the number that King Priam had,
Behold the poor remains, alive and dead!
These that survive let Rome reward with love;
These that I bring unto their latest home,

With burial amongst their ancestors:

Here Goths have given me leave to sheathe my sword.
Titus, unkind and careless of thine own,

80

Why suffer'st thou thy sons, unburied yet,
To hover on the dreadful shore of Styx?
Make way to lay them by their brethren.

[The tomb is opened.

There greet in silence, as the dead are wont,
And sleep in peace, slain in your country's wars!
O sacred receptacle of my joys,

Sweet cell of virtue and nobility,

How many sons of mine hast thou in store,
That thou wilt never render to me more!

Luc. Give us the proudest prisoner of the Goths,
That we may hew his limbs, and on a pile
Ad manes fratrum sacrifice his flesh,
Before this earthy prison of their bones;
That so the shadows be not unappeased,
Nor we disturb'd with prodigies on earth.

Tit. I give him you, the noblest that survives,
The eldest son of this distressed queen.

Tam. Stay, Roman brethren! Gracious conqueror,
Victorious Titus, rue the tears I shed,

A mother's tears in passion for her son:
And if thy sons were ever dear to thee,
O, think my son 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 sons be slaughter'd in the streets,
For valiant doings in their country's cause?
O, if to fight for king and commonweal
Were piety in thine, it is in these.
Andronicus, stain 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, spare my first-born son.

Tit. Patient yourself, madam, and pardon me.
These are their brethren, whom you Goths beheld
Alive and dead, and for their brethren slain
Religiously they ask a sacrifice:

To this your son is mark'd, and die he must,
To appease their groaning shadows that are gone.
Lue. Away with him! and make a fire straight;
And with our swords, upon a pile of wood,
Let's hew his limbs till they be clean consumed.

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100

110

120

[Exeunt Lucius, Quintus, Martius, and Mutius, with

Tam. O cruel, irreligious piety!

Alarbus.

180