Can make you greater than the Queen of Goths.
Lavinia, you are not displeased 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. [Flourish. Saturninus courts Tamora in dumb show.

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 resolved 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 surprised!

Sat. Surprised! by whom?

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

[Exeunt Bassianus and Marcus 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.

270

280

What, villain boy! 290

Barr'st me my way in Rome ? [Stabbing Mutius.

Mut.

Help, Lucius, help! [Dies.

[During the fray, Saturninus, Tamora, Demetrius, Chiron and Aaron go out and re-enter, above.

288. door (disyllabic).

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 promised love. [Exit.
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 there none else in Rome to make a stale,
But Saturnine? 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,

298. That, i.e. Lavinia.
301. I'll trust, by leisure, I
shall be in no hurry to trust.

304. stale, laughing-stock,

dupe.

300

310

309. piece, creature.' 313. ruffle, riot, be turbulent.

If thou be pleased 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 every thing
In readiness for Hymenæus stand,

I will not re-salute the streets of Rome,

Or climb my palace, till from forth this place
I lead espoused 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.

accompany

Lords,

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 all but Titus.

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,

333. Pantheon, the Pantheon; the temple built by Agrippa in the Campus Martius, A.D. 27.

338. bid, invited.

340. challenged, accused.

X

320

330

340

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.

Quin. And shall, or him we will accompany.

Mart.

}

Tit. And shall!' what villain was it spake that word?

Quin. 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.

Mart. He is not with himself; let us withdraw. Quin. Not I, till Mutius' bones be buried.

[Marcus and the Sons of Titus kneel.

Marc. Brother, for in that name doth nature

plead,

Quin. Father, and in that name doth nature
speak,-

368, is not with himself; is 'beside himself.'

350

360

370

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
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.

Tit.
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.

[Mutius is put into the tomb. Luc. There lie thy bones, sweet Mutius, with thy friends,

Till we with trophies do adorn thy tomb.

All. [Kneeling.] No man shed tears for noble
Mutius;

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

Marc. My lord, to step out of these dreary
dumps,

How comes it that the subtle Queen of Goths
Is of a sudden thus advanced 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.

372. speed, gain their suit. 379. upon advice, after deliberation. The incident is re

presented in Sophocles' Ajax. 381. funerals, obsequies. 396. beholding, indebted.

380

390