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 fon.

Tit. Patient yourself, Madam, and pardon me. These are their brethren, whom you Goths, behold Alive and dead, and for their brethren slain Religioufly they ask a Sacrifice; To this your fon is markt, and die he must, T'appease their groaning shadows that are gone.

Luc. Away with him, and make a fire straight.

And with our fwords, upon a pile of wood,

"Let's hew his limbs, 'till they be clean consum'd.

Exeunt Mutius, Marcus, Quintus and Lucius with Alarbus.

Tam. O cruel, irreligious, piety! Chi. Was ever Scythia half so barbarous? Dem. Oppose me, Scythia, to ambitious Rome. Alarbus, go to rest! and we survive To tremble under Titus' threatning looks. Then Madam, stand refolv'd; but hope withal, The self-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 lopt; And intrails feed the facrificing fire; Whose smoke, like incenfe, doth perfume the sky. Remaineth nought but to inter our brethren, And with loud 'larums welcome them to Rome. Tim. Let it be so, and let Andronicus Make this his latest farewel to their fouls.

[Then found trumpets, and lay the coffins in the tomb.

In peace and honour rest you here, my fons,
Rome's readieft champions, repose you here,
Secure from worldly chances and mishaps:
Here lurks no treason, here no envy swells;.
Here grow no damned grudges, here no storms,
No noife: but filence and eternal fleep:
In peace and honour rest you here, my fons.!

Lav.

N peace and honour live lord Titus long,

I My noble lord and father, live in fame

Lo! at this tomb my tributary tears
I render, for my brethrens' obsequies:
And at thy feet I kneel, with tears of joy
Shed on the earth, for thy Return to Rome.
O, bless me here with thy victorious hand,
Whose fortune Rome's beft citizens applaud.

Tit. Kind Rome, that hast thus lovingly referv'd
The Cordial of mine age, to glad mine heart!
Lavinia, live; out-live thy father's days,
In Fame's eternal Date for 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 successful

wars,

You that furvive, and you that sleep in fame:
Fair lords, your fortunes are alike in all,
That in your country's fervice drew 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,
Whose friend in justice thou hast ever been,
Send thee by me their Tribune, and their trust,
This Palliament of white and spotless hue;

And

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! should I don this robe, and trouble you?
Be chose with Proclamations to-day,
To-morrow yield up Rule, resign my life,
And fet abroach new business for you all?
Rome, I have been thy foldier forty years,
And led my country's strength successfully';
And buried one and twenty valiant fons,
Knighted in field, slain manfully in arms,
In Right and Service of their noble Country.
Give me a staff of honour for mine age,
But not a fceptre to controul the world.
Upright he held it, lords that held it last.

Mar. Titus, thou shalt obtain and ask the Empery. Sat. Proud and ambitious Tribune, canst thou

tell

Tit. Patience, Prince Saturninus.
Sat. Romans, do me Right.

Patricians, draw your swords, and sheath them not
'Till Saturninus be Rome's Emperor.
Andronicus, 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 restore 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 strengthen with thy friends,
I will most thankful be, and Thanks to men

Of noble minds is honourable meed.

Tit. People of Rome, and noble Tribunes here,

Lask your voices, and your fuffrages;

K 5

Will

Will you bestow them friendly on Andronicus ?
Mar. To gratify the good Andronicus
And gratulate his safe Return to Rome,
The people will accept whom he admits.

Tit. Tribunes, I thank you, and this suit I make,

That you create your Emperor's eldest son,
Lord Saturnine; whose virtues will, I hope,
Reflect on Rome, as Titan's rays on earth,
And ripen justice in this Common-weal.
Then if you will elect by my advice,

Crown him, and fay, Long live our Emperor!
Mar. With voices and applause 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 onset, Titus, to advance Thy name, and honourable family, Lavinia will I make my Empress, Rome's royal Mistress, Mistress of my heart, And in the facred Pantheon her espouse : 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;
Presents well worthy Rome's imperial lord.
Receive them then, the Tribute that I owe,
Mine Honour's Ensigns humbled at thy feet.
Sat. Thanks, noble Titus, father of my life!

How proud I am of thee, and of thy gifts,
Rome shall record; and when I do forget

The

a

0

e

The least of these unfpeakable deferts,

Romans, forget your fealty to me.

Tit. Now, Madam, are you prifoner to an Empe

ror;

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

Sat. A goodly lady, trust me, of the hue

[To Tamora.

That I would chuse, were I to chuse, anew:
Clear up, fair Queen, that cloudy countenance;

Tho' chance of war hath wrought this change of

cheer,

Thou com'st not to be made a scorn in Rome:

Princely shall be thy usage every way.
Rest 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 these words in princely courtesy.
Sat. Thanks, sweet Lavinia; Romans, let us go.
Ranfomless here we fet our prisoners 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 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 shew.

Mar. Suum cuique is our Roman justice:

This Prince in justice seizeth but his own.

Luc. And that he will, and shall, if Lucius live.
Tit. Traitors, avant! where is the Emperor's

Treason, my lord; Lavinia is furpriz'd.

[Guard?

Sat. Surpriz'd! by whom?

Baf. By him that justly may

Bear his betroth'd from all the world away.