The wide world's emperor, do I consecrate
My sword, my chariot, and my prisoners,―
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 least of these unspeakable deserts,
Romans, forget your fealty to me.

TIT. Now, madam, are you prisoner to an emperor;
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

That I would choose, were I to choose anew:

Clear up, fair queen, that cloudy countenance :

Though 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, he comforts you
Can make you greater than the queen of Goths;
Lavinia, you are not displeas'd with this?

LAV. Not I, my lord, sith true nobility

Warrants these words in princely courtesy. SAT. Thanks, sweet Lavinia.

Romans, let us go:

Ransomless here we set our prisoners free.
Proclaim our honours, lords, with trump and drum.
BASS. Lord Titus, by your leave, this maid is mine.
TIT. How, sir? are you in earnest then, my lord?
Bass. Ay, noble Titus, and resolv'd withal

To do myself this reason and this right.
MARC. 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, avaunt! where is the emperor's guard?

Treason, my lord! Lavinia is surpris'd.
SAT. Surpris'd! by whom?

BASS.

By him that justly may Bear his betroth'd from all the world away.

[TO TAMORA.

[Seizing LAVINIA.

[Exeunt MARCUS and BASSIANUS, with LAVINIA.

MUT. Brothers, help to convey her hence away,
And with my sword I'll keep this door safe.

[Exeunt LUCIUS, QUINTUS, and MARTIUS.

TIT. Follow, my lord, and I'll soon bring her back.

MUT. My lord, you pass not here.

TIT. What! villain, boy, barr'st me my way in Rome?

MUT. Help, Lucius, help!

Re-enter LUCIUS.

[TITUS kills him.

Luc. My lord, you are unjust, and more than so;
In wrongful quarrel you have slain your son.
TIT. Nor thou, nor he, are any sons of mine:
My sons would never so dishonour me.
Traitor, restore Lavinia to the emperor.
Luc. Dead, if you will, but not to be his wife,
That is another's lawful promis'd love.

[Exit.

Enter aloft the EMPEROR, with TAMORA and her two Sons, and AARON the Moor.

SAT. No, Titus, no; the emperor needs her not,

Nor her, nor thee, nor any of thy stock:

I'll trust, by leisure, him that mocks me once;
Thee never, nor thy traitorous haughty sons,
Confederates all, thus to dishonour me.

Was none in Rome to make a stale but Saturninea?
Full well, Andronicus,

Agree these deeds with that proud brag of thine,
That said'st, I begg'd the empire at thy hands.
TIT. O monstrous! what reproachful words are these?
SAT. But go thy ways; go, give that changing piece
To him that flourish'd for her with his sword:
A valiant son-in-law thou shalt enjoy;

One fit to bandy with thy lawless sons,
To ruffle in the commonwealth of Rome.

TIT. These words are razors to my wounded heart.
SAT. And therefore, lovely Tamora, queen of Goths,
That, like the stately Phoebe 'mongst her nymphs,
Dost overshine the gallant'st dames of Rome,
If thou be pleas'd with this my sudden choice,
Behold I choose thee, Tamora, for my bride,
And will create thee empress of Rome.

Speak, queen of Goths; dost thou applaud my choice?
And here I swear by all the Roman gods,—
Sith priest and holy water are so near,

And tapers burn so bright, and everything
In readiness for Hymeneus stand,—

I will not re-salute the streets of Rome,

a The second folio has

"Was there none else in Rome, to make a stale,
But Saturnine?"

Or climb my palace, till from forth this place

I lead espous'd my bride along with me.

TAM. And here, in sight of heaven, to Rome I swear,
If Saturnine advance the queen of Goths,
She will a handmaid be to his desires,

A loving nurse, a mother to his youth.

SAT. Ascend, fair queen, Pantheon: Lords, accompany
Your noble emperor and his lovely bride,
Sent by the heavens for prince Saturnine,
Whose wisdom hath her fortune conquered:
There shall we consummate our spousal rites.

[Exeunt SATURNINE and his Followers; TAMORA, and her Sons;
AARON, and Goths.

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?

Re-enter MARCUS, LUCIUS, QUINTUS, and MARTIUS.

MARC. O, Titus, see! O see what thou hast done!

In a bad quarrel slain a virtuous son.
TIT. No, foolish tribune, no: no son of mine,-
Nor thou, nor these, confederates in the deed.
That hath dishonour'd all our family;
Unworthy brother, and unworthy sons!
Luc. But let us give him burial as becomes :
Give Mutius burial with our brethren.
TIT. Traitors, away! he rests not in this tomb:
This monument five hundred years hath stood,
Which I have sumptuously re-edified:

Here none but soldiers, and Rome's servitors,
Repose in fame: none basely slain in brawls:
Bury him where you can; he comes not here.
MARC. My lord, this is impiety in you:

My nephew Mutius' deeds do plead for him:
He must be buried with his brethren.

QUINT., MART. And shall, or him we will accompany.
TIT. And shall! What villain was it spake that word?
QUINT. He that would vouch it in any place but here.
TIT. What! would you bury him in my despite?
MARC. No, noble Titus; but entreat of thee

To pardon Mutius, and to bury him.

TIT. Marcus, even thou hast struck upon my crest,

And with these boys mine honour thou hast wounded :

My foes I do repute you every one.

So trouble me no more, but get you gone.

[The Brother and the Sons kneel.

MART. He is not with himself a; let us withdraw.
QUINT. Not I, till Mutius' bones be buried.
MARC. Brother, for in that name doth nature plead.
QUINT. Father, and in that name doth nature speak.
TIT. Speak thou no more, if all the rest will speed.
MARC. Renowned Titus, more than half my soul!
Luc. Dear father, soul and substance of us all!
MARC. Suffer thy brother Marcus to inter

TIT.

His noble nephew here in virtue's nest,
That died in honour and Lavinia's cause.
Thou art a Roman, be not barbarous :
The Greeks upon advice, did bury Ajax,
That slew himself: and wise Laertes' son
Did graciously plead for his funerals :
Let not young Mutius then, that was thy joy,
Be barr'd his entrance here.

Rise, Marcus, rise!
The dismall'st day is this that e'er I saw,
To be dishonour'd by my sons in Rome:
Well, bury him, and bury me the next.

[They put MUTIUS in the tomb.

Luc. There lie thy bones, sweet Mutius, with thy friends,
Till we with trophies do adorn thy tomb.
No man shed tears for noble Mutius;

He lives in fame that died in virtue's cause.

[They all kneel and say,

[Exeunt all but MARCUS and TITUS.

MARC. My lord,-to step out of these sudden dumps,—
How comes it that the subtle queen of Goths

Is of a sudden thus advanc'd in Rome ?

TIT. I know not, Marcus: but I know it is:
Whether by device, or no, the heavens can tell ;

Is she not then beholding to the man

That brought her for this high good turn so far?

Yes; and will nobly him remunerate©.

Enter the Emperor, Tamora, and her two Sons, with the Moor, at one side; enter at the other side, BASSIANUS and LAVINIA, with others.

SAT. So, Bassianus, you have play'd your prize!

God give you joy, sir, of your gallant bride!

BASS. And you of yours, my lord. I say no more,

Nor wish no less; and so I take my leave.
SAT. Traitor, if Rome have law, or we have power,

a With himself, in the quarto. The folio omits with.

Sudden, in the folio. The quarto, dreary.

This line, found in the folio, is wanting in the quarto. It is, probably, not intended to be spoken by Titus.

Thou and thy faction shall repent this rape. BASS. Rape call you it, my lord, to seize my own, My true betrothed love, and now my wife? But let the laws of Rome determine all; Meanwhile I am possess'd of that is mine. SAT. 'T is good, sir; you are very short with us; But, if we live, we 'll be as sharp with you. BASS. My lord, what I have done, as best I may, Answer I must, and shall do with my life. Only thus much I give your grace to know:

By all the duties that I owe to Rome,
This noble gentleman, lord Titus here,
Is in opinion and in honour wrong'd,
That, in the rescue of Lavinia,

With his own hand did slay his youngest son,
In zeal to you, and highly mov'd to wrath,
To be controll'd in that he frankly gave.
Receive him, then, to favour, Saturnine,
That hath express'd himself, in all his deeds,
A father and a friend to thee and Rome.
TIT. Prince Bassianus, leave to plead my deeds:
"T is thou, and those, that have dishonour'd me.
Rome, and the righteous heavens, be my judge,
How I have lov'd and honour'd Saturnine.
TAM. My worthy lord, if ever Tamora

Were gracious in those princely eyes of thine, Then hear me speak, indifferently for all: And at my suit, sweet, pardon what is past. SAT. What, madam! be dishonour'd openly, And basely put it up without revenge? TAM. Not so, my lord; the gods of Rome forfend I should be author to dishonour you. But on mine honour, dare I undertake For good lord Titus' innocence in all; Whose fury not dissembled speaks his griefs: Then, at my suit, look graciously on him: Lose not so noble a friend on vain suppose; Nor with sour looks afflict his gentle heart. My lord, be rul'd by me, be won at last; Dissemble all your griefs and discontents: You are but newly planted in your throne; Lest then the people, and patricians too, Upon a just survey take Titus' part, And so supplant us for ingratitude, Which Rome reputes to be a heinous sin,