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 Lavinia, Tit. How, Sir? are you in earnest then, my Lord? Baf. Ay, noble Titus; and refolv'd withal,

To do my self this reason and this right.

[The Emperor courts Tamora in dumb fhew.

Mar. Suum cuique is our Roman justice:

This prince in justice seizeth but his own.

Luc. And that he will, and fhall, if Lucius live." Tit. Traitors, avant! where is the Emperor's guard? Treafon, my Lord; Lavinia is furpriz❜d. Sat. Surpriz'd! by whom?

Baf. By him that juftly may

Bear his betroth'd from all the world away.

L

[Exit Baffianus with Lavinia.

SCENE IV.

- Mut. Brothers, help to convey her hence away, And with my fword I'll keep this door fecure.

Tit. Follow, my Lord, and I'll foon bring her back. Mut. My Lord, you país not here.

Tit. What! villain-boy,

Barr'ft me my way in Rome ?

Mut. Help, Lucius, help.

[He kills bim,

Luc. My Lord, you are unjust, and more than fo,

In wrongful quarrel you have flain your fon.

Tit. Nor thou, nor he, are any fons of mine.

My fons, would never fo difhonour me.
Traitor, reftore Lavinia to the Emperor,

Luc. Dead, if you will, but not to be his wife,
That is another's lawful promis'd love.

Sat. No, Titus, no, the Emperor needs her not
Nor her, nor thee, nor any of thy flock;
I'll truft by leisure him that mocks me once,
Thee-never, nor thy traiterous haughty fons,
Confederates all, thus to dishonour me.
Was there none elfe in Rome to make a ftale of
But Saturnine full well, Andronicus,
Agree thefe deeds with that proud brag of thine,

B 3

That

That faid'ft, I begg'd the empire at thy hands.

Tit. O monftrous! what reproachful words are these? Sat. But go thy ways; to give that changing piece, To him that flourish'd for her with his sword; A valiant fon-in-law thou fhalt enjoy:

One fit to bandy with thy lawless fons,

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 'mong her nymphs, Doft over-fhine the gallant'ft dames of Rome, If thou be pleas'd with this my fudden choice, Behold I chufe thee, Tamora, for my bride, And will create thee Emperefs of Rome.

Speak, Queen of Goths, doft thou applaud my choice?
And here I swear by all the Roman Gods,
(Sith prieft and holy water are so near,
And tapers burn fo bright, and every thing
In readiness for Hymenæus ftands,)

I will not re-falute the ftreets of Rome,

Or climb my palace, 'till from forth this place

I lead efpous'd my bride along with me.

Tam. And here in fight of heav'n to Rome I fwear, If Saturnine advance the Queen of Goths,

She will a handmaid be to his defires,

A loving nurse, a mother to his youth.

Sat. Afcend, fair Queen, Pantbeon; Lords, accompany Your noble Emperor, and his lovely bride, Sent by the heavens for Prince Saturnine, Whofe wifdom hath her fortune conquered: There fhall we confummate our fpoufal rites.

[Exeunt.

SCENE V. Manet Titus Andronicus.
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?

Enter Marcus Andronicus, Lucius, Quintus, and Marcus. Mar. Oh, Titus, fee, oh fee what thou hast done! In a bad quarrel flain a virtuous fon.

Tit. No, foolih Tribune, no: no fon of mine, Nor thou, nor these contederates in the dead,

That

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 food,
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, be 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.

Sons. And fhall, or him we will accompany.

Tit. And fhall? what villain was it fpake that word? Quin. He that would vouch't in any place but here. Tit. What, would you bury him in my despight? Mar. No, noble Titus, but intreat of thee,

To pardon Mutius, and to bury him.

Tit. Marcus, ev'n thou haft ftruck upon my creft, 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 well 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 speed.
Mar. Renowned Titus, more than half my foul!
Luc. Dear father, foul and substance of us all!
Mar. Suffer thy brother Marcus to interr
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 flew himself; and wife Laertes' fon
Dld graciously plead for his funerals.
Let not young Mutius then, that was thy joy,
Be barr'd his entrance here.

Th

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 temb. Luc.There lye thy bones, fweet Mutius, with thy friends,

'Till we with trophies do adorn thy tomb!

[They all kneel, and say,

No man fhed tears for noble Mutius !

He lives in fame, that died in virtue's caufe.

Mar. My Lord, to ftep out of these dreary dumps, How comes it that the subtle Queen of Goths

Is of a fudden thus advanc'd in Rome ?

Tit. I know not, Marcus; but I know it is :

If by device or no, the heav'ns can tell :

Is the not then beholden to the man,

That brought her for this high good turn so far?

SCENE VI.

Flourish. Enter the Emperor, Tamora, Chiron, and Demetrius, with the Moor at one door. At the other door Baffianus and Lavinia with others.

Sat. So, Baffianus, you have plaid your prize; God give you joy, Sir, of your gallant bride!

Baf. And you of yours, my Lord; I fay no more, Nor with no lefs, and fo I take my leave.

Sat. Traitor, if Rome have law, or we have power,
Thou and thy faction shall repent this rape.

Baf. Rape call you it, my Lord, to feize my own,
My true betrothed love, and now my wife ?
But let the laws of Rome determine all,
Mean while I am poffeft of that is mine.

Sat. 'Tis good, Sir; you are very short with us,
But if we live, we'll be as fharp with you.
Baf. My Lord, what I have done, as best I may,
Aniwer I muft, and fhall do with my life;
Only thus much I give your Grace to know,
By all the duties which 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 flay his youngest son,
In zeal to you, and highly mov'd to wrath,
To be control'd in that he frankly gave;
Receive him then to favour, Saturnine,
That hath exprest himself in all his deeds
A father and a friend to thee, and Rome.

Tit. Prince Baffianus, leave to plead my deeds.
'Tis 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 (peak, indifferently, for all; And at my fuit (fweet) pardon what is past. Sat. What, Madam, be dishonour'd openly, And bafely put it up without revenge?

[Ande

Tam. Not fo, my Lord; the Gods of Rome fore-fend,
I should be author to dishonour you:
But, on mine honour dare I undertake
For good Lord Titus' innocence in all;
Whose fury not diffembled speaks his griefs :
Then at my fuit look graciously on him,
Lose not so noble a friend on vain suppose,
Nor with four looks afflict his gentle heart.-
My Lord, be rul'd by me, be won at last,
Diffemble all your griefs and discontents:
You are but newly planted in your throne;
Left then the people and patricians too
Upon a juft furvey take Titus' part,
And fo fupplant us for ingratitude,
Which Rome reputes to be a hainous fin,
Yield at intreats, and then let me alone;
I'll find a day to maflacre them all,
And rafe their faction, and their family,
The cruel father, and his traiterous fons,
To whom I fued for my dear fon's life:

And make them know what 'tis to let a Queen
Kneel in the streets, and beg for grace in vain.-

Come, come, fweet Emperor-come, Andronicus-[Aloud.
Take up this good old man, and chear the heart,

That