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Enter MARCUS ANDRONICUS, SATURNINUS, BAS

SIANUS, and Others.

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 survive, and you that sleep in fame. Fair lords, your fortunes are alike in all, That in your country's service drew your swords: But safer triumph is this funeral pomp, That hath aspir'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 name thee in election for the empire, With these our late-deceased emperor's sons : Be candidatus then, and put it on, And help to set 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 chosen with proclamations to-day; To-morrow, yield up rule, resign my life, And set abroad new business for you all? Rome, I have been thy soldier forty years, And buried one and twenty valiant sons,

* The maxim alluded to is, that no man can be pronounced happy before his death.

9 A robe.

Lie. Do on, put it on.

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 scepter to control 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 Saturnine.

Sat.

Romans, do me right ;Patricians, draw your swords, and sheath them not Till Saturninus be Rome's emperor :Andronicus, 'would thou wert shipp'd 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. Bas. 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 people's tribunes here,

I ask your voices, and your suffrages;

Will you bestow them friendly on Andronicus ?
Trib. 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 say,-Long live our emperor !
Mar. With voices and applause of every sort,
Patricians, and plebeians, we create
Lord Saturninus, Rome's great emperor ;
And say,-Long live our emperor Saturnine!

[A long Flourish.

Sat. Titus Andronicus, for thy favours done
To us in our election this day,

I give thee thanks in part of thy deserts,
And will with deeds requite thy gentleness:
And, for an onset, Titus, to advance
Thy name, and honourable family,
Lavinia will I make my emperess,

Rome's royal mistress, mistress of my heart,
And in the sacred 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 honour'd of your grace :
And here, in sight of Rome, to Saturnine,-
King and commander of our common-weal,
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

2 The sun.

The least of these unspeakable deserts,

Romans, forget your fealty to me.

Tit. Now, madam, are you prisoner to an empe

ror;

[TO TAMORA. 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; sith3 true nobility
Warrants these words in princely courtesy.

Sat. Thanks, sweet Lavinia.-Romans, let us go : Ransomeless here we set our prisoners free: Proclaim our honours, lords, with trump and drum. Bas. Lord Titus, by your leave, this maid is mine.

[Seizing LAVINIA.

Tit. How, sir? Are you in earnest then, my lord? Bas. Ay, noble Titus; and resolv'd withal,

To do myself this reason and this right.

[The Emperor courts TAMORA in dumb show. 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.

3 Since.

Tit. Traitors, avaunt! Where is the emperor's

guard?

Treason, my lord; Lavinia is surpriz'd.

Sat. Surpriz'd! By whom?

Bas.

By him that justly may

Bear his betroth'd from all the world away.

[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? [TITUSkills MUTIUS.

Mut.

Help, Lucius, help.

Re-enter LUCIUS.

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.

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

Not 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 there none else' in Rome to make a stale 4 of,

4 A stalking horse.

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