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  • Title: Titus Andronicus (Folio, 1623)

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    Author: William Shakespeare
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    Titus Andronicus (Folio, 1623)

    The Lamentable Tragedy of
    Titus Andronicus.
    1Actus Primus. Scoena Prima.
    Flourish. Enter the Tribunes and Senators aloft And then
    enter Saturninus and his Followers at one doore,
    and Bassianus and his Followers at the
    5other, with Drum & Colours.
    NOble Patricians, Patrons of my right,
    Defend the iustice of my Cause with Armes.
    And Countrey-men, my louing Followers,
    10Pleade my Successiue Title with your Swords.
    I was the first borne Sonne, that was the last
    That wore the Imperiall Diadem of Rome:
    Then let my Fathers Honours liue in me,
    Nor wrong mine Age with this indignitie.
    15Bassianus. Romaines, Friends, Followers,
    Fauourers of my Right:
    If euer Bassianus, Caesars Sonne,
    Were gracious in the eyes of Royall Rome,
    Keepe then this passage to the Capitoll:
    20And suffer not Dishonour to approach
    Th'Imperiall Seate to Vertue: consecrate
    To Iustice, Continence, and Nobility:
    But let Desert in pure Election shine;
    And Romanes, fight for Freedome in your Choice.
    25Enter Marcus Andronicus aloft with the Crowne.
    Princes, that striue by Factions, and by Friends,
    Ambitiously for Rule and Empery:
    Know, that the people of Rome for whom we stand
    A speciall Party, haue by Common voyce
    30In Election for the Romane Emperie,
    Chosen Andronicus, Sur-named Pious,
    For many good and great deserts to Rome.
    A Nobler man, a brauer Warriour,
    Liues not this day within the City Walles.
    35He by the Senate is accited home
    From weary Warres against the barbarous Gothes,
    That with his Sonnes (a terror to our Foes)
    Hath yoak'd a Nation strong, train'd vp in Armes.
    Ten yeares are spent, since first he vndertooke
    40This Cause of Rome, and chasticed with Armes
    Our Enemies pride. Fiue times he hath return'd
    Bleeding to Rome, bearing his Valiant Sonnes
    In Coffins from the Field.
    And now at last, laden with Honours Spoyles,
    45Returnes the good Andronicus to Rome,
    Renowned Titus, flourishing in Armes.
    Let vs intreat, by Honour of his Name,
    Whom (worthily) you would haue now succeede,
    And in the Capitoll and Senates right,
    50Whom you pretend to Honour and Adore,
    That you withdraw you, and abate your Strength,
    Dismisse your Followers, and as Suters should,
    Pleade your Deserts in Peace and Humblenesse.
    Saturnine. How fayre the Tribune speakes,
    55To calme my thoughts.
    Bassia. Marcus Andronicus, so I do affie
    In thy vprightnesse and Integrity:
    And so I Loue and Honor thee, and thine,
    Thy Noble Brother Titus, and his Sonnes,
    60And Her (to whom my thoughts are humbled all)
    Gracious Lauinia, Romes rich Ornament,
    That I will heere dismisse my louing Friends:
    And to my Fortunes, and the Peoples Fauour,
    Commit my Cause in ballance to be weigh'd.
    65Exit Souldiours.
    Saturnine. Friends, that haue beene
    Thus forward in my Right,
    I thanke you all, and heere Dismisse you all,
    And to the Loue and Fauour of my Countrey,
    70Commit my Selfe, my Person, and the Cause:
    Rome, be as iust and gracious vnto me,
    As I am confident and kinde to thee.
    Open the Gates, and let me in.
    Bassia. Tribunes, and me, a poore Competitor.
    75 Flourish. They go vp into the Senat house.
    Enter a Captaine.
    Cap. Romanes make way: the good Andronicus,
    Patron of Vertue, Romes best Champion,
    Successefull in the Battailes that he fights,
    80With Honour and with Fortune is return'd,
    From whence he circumscribed with his Sword,
    And brought to yoke the Enemies of Rome.
    Sound Drummes and Trumpets. And then enter two of Titus
    Sonnes; After them, two men bearing a Coffin couered
    85with blacke, then two other Sonnes. After them, Titus
    Andronicus, and then Tamora the Queene of Gothes, &
    her two Sonnes Chiron and Demetrius, with Aaron the
    Moore, and others, as many as can bee: They set downe the
    Coffin, and Titus speakes.
    90Andronicus. Haile Rome:
    Victorious in thy Mourning Weedes:
    32The Tragedie of Titus Andronicus.
    Loe as the Barke that hath discharg'd his fraught,
    Returnes with precious lading to the Bay,
    From whence at first she wegih'd her Anchorage:
    95Commeth Andronicus bound with Lawrell bowes,
    To resalute his Country with his teares,
    Teares of true ioy for his returne to Rome,
    Thou great defender of this Capitoll,
    Stand gracious to the Rites that we intend.
    100Romaines, of fiue and twenty Valiant Sonnes,
    Halfe of the number that King Priam had,
    Behold the poore remaines aliue and dead!
    These that Suruiue, let Rome reward with Loue:
    These that I bring vnto their latest home,
    105With buriall amongst their Auncestors.
    Heere Gothes haue giuen me leaue to sheath my Sword:
    Titus vnkinde, and carelesse of thine owne,
    Why suffer'st thou thy Sonnes vnburied yet,
    To houer on the dreadfull shore of Stix?
    110Make way to lay them by their Bretheren.
    They open the Tombe.
    There greete in silence as the dead are wont,
    And sleepe in peace, slaine in your Countries warres:
    O sacred receptacle of my ioyes,
    115Sweet Cell of vertue and Noblitie,
    How many Sonnes of mine hast thou in store,
    That thou wilt neuer render to me more?
    Luc. Giue vs the proudest prisoner of the Gothes,
    That we may hew his limbes, and on a pile
    120Ad manus fratrum, sacrifice his flesh:
    Before this earthly prison of their bones,
    That so the shadowes be not vnappeas'd,
    Nor we disturb'd with prodigies on earth.
    Tit. I giue him you, the Noblest that Suruiues,
    125The eldest Son of this distressed Queene.
    Tam. Stay Romaine Bretheren, gracious Conqueror,
    Victorious Titus, rue the teares I shed,
    A Mothers teares in passion for her sonne:
    And if thy Sonnes were euer deere to thee,
    130Oh thinke my sonnes to be as deere to mee.
    Sufficeth not, that we are brought to Rome
    To beautifie thy Triumphs, and returne
    Captiue to thee, and to thy Romaine yoake,
    But must my Sonnes be slaughtred in the streetes,
    135For Valiant doings in their Countries cause?
    O! If to fight for King and Common-weale,
    Were piety in thine, it is in these:
    Andronicus, staine not thy Tombe with blood.
    Wilt thou draw neere the nature of the Gods?
    140Draw neere them then in being mercifull.
    Sweet mercy is Nobilities true badge,
    Thrice Noble Titus, spare my first borne sonne.
    Tit. Patient your selfe Madam, and pardon me.
    These are the Brethren, whom you Gothes beheld
    145Aliue and dead, and for their Bretheren slaine,
    Religiously they aske a sacrifice:
    To this your sonne is markt, and die he must,
    T'appease their groaning shadowes that are gone.
    Luc. Away with him, and make a fire straight,
    150And with our Swords vpon a pile of wood,
    Let's hew his limbes till they be cleane consum'd.
    Exit Sonnes with Alarbus.
    Tamo. O cruell irreligious piety.
    Chi. Was euer Scythia halfe so barbarous?
    155Dem. Oppose me Scythia to ambitious Rome,
    Alarbus goes to rest, and we suruiue,
    To tremble vnder Titus threatning lookes,
    Then Madam stand resolu'd, but hope withall,
    The selfe same Gods that arm'd the Queene of Troy
    160With opportunitie of sharpe reuenge
    Vpon the Thracian Tyrant in his Tent,
    May fauour Tamora the Queene of Gothes,
    (When Gothes were Gothes, and Tamora was Queene)
    To quit the bloody wrongs vpon her foes.
    165Enter the Sonnes of Andronicus againe.
    Luci. See Lord and Father, how we haue perform'd
    Our Romaine rightes, Alarbus limbs are lopt,
    And intrals feede the sacrifising fire,
    Whose smoke like incense doth perfume the skie.
    170Remaineth nought but to interre our Brethren,
    And with low'd Larums welcome them to Rome.
    Tit. Let it be so, and let Andronicus
    Make this his latest farewell to their soules.
    175Then Sound Trumpets, and lay the Coffins in the Tombe.
    In peace and Honour rest you heere my Sonnes,
    Romes readiest Champions, repose you heere in rest,
    Secure from worldly chaunces and mishaps:
    Heere lurks no Treason, heere no enuie swels,
    180Heere grow no damned grudges, heere are no stormes,
    No noyse, but silence and Eternall sleepe,
    In peace and Honour rest you heere my Sonnes.
    Enter Lauinia.
    Laui. In peace and Honour, liue Lord Titus long,
    185My Noble Lord and Father, liue in Fame:
    Loe at this Tombe my tributarie teares,
    I render for my Bretherens Obsequies:
    And at thy feete I kneele, with teares of ioy
    Shed on the earth for thy returne to Rome.
    190O blesse me heere with thy victorious hand,
    Whose Fortune Romes best Citizens applau'd.
    Ti. Kind Rome,
    That hast thus louingly reseru'd
    The Cordiall of mine age to glad my hart,
    195Lauinia liue, out-liue thy Fathers dayes:
    And Fames eternall date for vertues praise.
    Marc. Long liue Lord Titus, my beloued brother,
    Gracious Triumpher in the eyes of Rome.
    Tit. Thankes Gentle Tribune,
    200Noble brother Marcus.
    Mar. And welcome Nephews from succesfull wars,
    You that suruiue and you that sleepe in Fame:
    Faire Lords your Fortunes are all alike in all,
    That in your Countries seruice drew your Swords.
    205But safer Triumph is this Funerall Pompe,
    That hath aspir'd to Solons Happines,
    And Triumphs ouer chaunce in honours bed.
    Titus Andronicus,, the people of Rome,
    Whose friend in iustice thou hast euer bene,
    210Send thee by me their Tribune and their trust,
    This Palliament of white and spotlesse Hue,
    And name thee in Election for the Empire,
    With these our late deceased Emperours Sonnes:
    Be Candidatus then, and put it on,
    215And helpe to set a head on headlesse Rome.
    Tit. A better head her Glorious body fits,
    Then his that shakes for age and feeblenesse:
    The Tragedie of Titus Andronicus. 33
    What should I d'on this Robe and trouble you,
    Be chosen with proclamations to day,
    220To morrow yeeld vp rule, resigne my life,
    And set abroad new businesse for you all.
    Rome I haue bene thy Souldier forty yeares,
    And led my Countries strength successefully,
    And buried one and twenty Valiant Sonnes,
    225Knighted in Field, slaine manfully in Armes,
    In right and Seruice of their Noble Countrie:
    Giue me a staffe of Honour for mine age.
    But not a Scepter to controule the world,
    Vpright he held it Lords, that held it last.
    230Mar. Titus, thou shalt obtaine and aske the Emperie.
    Sat. Proud and ambitious Tribune can'st thou tell?
    Titus. Patience Prince Saturninus.
    Sat. Romaines do me right.
    Patricians draw your Swords, and sheath them not
    235Till Saturninus be Romes Emperour:
    Andronicus would thou wert shipt to hell,
    Rather then rob me of the peoples harts.
    Luc. Proud Saturnine, interrupter of the good
    That Noble minded Titus meanes to thee.
    240Tit. Content thee Prince, I will restore to thee
    The peoples harts, and weane them from themselues.
    Bass. Andronicus, I do not flatter thee
    But Honour thee, and will doe till I die:
    My Faction if thou strengthen with thy Friend?
    245I will most thankefull be, and thankes to men
    Of Noble mindes, is Honourable Meede.
    Tit. People of Rome, and Noble Tribunes heere,
    I aske your voyces and your Suffrages,
    Will you bestow them friendly on Andronicus?
    250Tribunes. To gratifie the good Andronicus,
    And Gratulate his safe returne to Rome,
    The people will accept whom he admits.
    Tit. Tribunes I thanke you, and this sure I make,
    That you Create your Emperours eldest sonne,
    255Lord Saturnine, whose Vertues will I hope,
    Reflect on Rome as Tytans Rayes on earth,
    And ripen Iustice in this Common-weale:
    Then if you will elect by my aduise,
    Crowne him, and say: Long liue our Emperour.
    260Mar. An. With Voyces and applause of euery sort,
    Patricians and Plebeans we Create
    Lord Saturninus Romes Great Emperour.
    And say, Long liue our Emperour Saturnine.
    A long Flourish till they come downe.
    265Satu. Titus Andronicus, for thy Fauours done,
    To vs in our Election this day,
    I giue thee thankes in part of thy Deserts,
    And will with Deeds requite thy gentlenesse:
    And for an Onset Titus to aduance
    270Thy Name, and Honorable Familie,
    Lauinia will I make my Empresse,
    Romes Royall Mistris, Mistris of my hart
    And in the Sacred Pathan her espouse:
    Tell me Andronicus doth this motion please thee?
    275Tit. It doth my worthy Lord, and in this match,
    I hold me Highly Honoured of your Grace,
    And heere in sight of Rome, to Saturnine,
    King and Commander of our Common-weale,
    The Wide-worlds Emperour, do I Consecrate,
    280My Sword, my Chariot, and my Prisonerss,
    Presents well Worthy Romes Imperiall Lord:
    Receiue them then, the Tribute that I owe,
    Mine Honours Ensignes humbled at my feete.
    Satu. Thankes Noble Titus, Father of my life,
    285How proud I am of thee, and of thy gifts
    Rome shall record, and when I do forget
    The least of these vnspeakable Deserts,
    Romans forget your Fealtie to me.
    Tit. Now Madam are your prisoner to an Emperour,
    290To him that for you Honour and your State,
    Will vse you Nobly and your followers.
    Satu. A goodly Lady, trust me of the Hue
    That I would choose, were I to choose a new:
    Cleere vp Faire Queene that cloudy countenance,
    295Though chance of warre
    Hath wrought this change of cheere,
    Thou com'st not to be made a scorne in Rome:
    Princely shall be thy vsage euery way.
    Rest on my word, and let not discontent
    300Daunt all your hopes: Madam he comforts you,
    Can make your Greater then the Queene of Gothes?
    Lauinia you are not displeas'd with this?
    Lau. Not I my Lord, sith true Nobilitie,
    Warrants these words in Princely curtesie.
    305Sat. Thankes sweete Lauinia, Romans let vs goe:
    Ransomlesse heere we set our Prisoners free,
    Proclaime our Honors Lords with Trumpe and Drum.
    Bass. Lord Titus by your leaue, this Maid is mine.
    Tit. How sir? Are you in earnest then my Lord?
    310Bass. I Noble Titus, and resolu'd withall,
    To doe my selfe this reason, and this right.
    Marc. Suum cuiquam, is our Romane Iustice,
    This Prince in Iustice ceazeth but his owne.
    Luc. And that he will and shall, if Lucius liue.
    315Tit. Traytors auant, where is the Emperours Guarde?
    Treason my Lord, Lauinia is surpris'd.
    Sat. Surpris'd, by whom?
    Bass. By him that iustly may
    Beare his Betroth'd, from all the world away.
    320Muti. Brothers helpe to conuey her hence away,
    And with my Sword Ile keepe this doore safe.
    Tit. Follow my Lord, and Ile soone bring her backe.
    Mut. My Lord you passe not heere.
    Tit. What villaine Boy, bar'st me my way in Rome?
    325Mut. Helpe Lucius helpe. He kils him.
    Luc. My Lord you are vniust, and more then so,
    In wrongfull quarrell, you haue slaine your son.
    Tit. Nor thou, nor he are any sonnes of mine,
    My sonnes would neuer so dishonour me.
    330Traytor restore Lauinia to the Emperour.
    Luc. Dead if you will, but not to be his wife,
    That is anothers lawfull promist Loue.
    Enter aloft the Emperour with Tamora and her two
    sonnes, and Aaron the Moore.
    335Empe. No Titus, no, the Emperour needs her not,
    Nor her, nor thee, nor any of thy stocke:
    Ile trust by Leisure him that mocks me once.
    Thee neuer: nor thy Trayterous haughty sonnes,
    Confederates all, thus to dishonour me.
    340Was none in Rome to make a stale
    But Saturnine? Full well Andronicus
    Agree these Deeds, with that proud bragge of thine,
    That said'st, I beg'd the Empire at thy hands.
    Tit. O monstrous, what reproachfull words are these?
    345Sat. But goe thy wayes, goe giue that changing peece,
    To him that flourisht for her with his Sword:
    A Valliant sonne in-law thou shalt enioy:
    One, fit to bandy with thy lawlesse Sonnes,
    34The Tragedie of Titus Andronicus.
    To ruffle in the Common-wealth of Rome.
    350Tit. These words are Razors to my wounded hart.
    Sat. And therefore louely Tamora Queene of Gothes,
    That like the stately Thebe mong'st her Nimphs
    Dost ouer-shine the Gallant'st Dames of Rome,
    If thou be pleas'd with this my sodaine choyse,
    355Behold I choose thee Tamora for my Bride,
    And will Create thee Empresse of Rome.
    Speake Queene of Goths dost thou applau'd my choyse?
    And heere I sweare by all the Romaine Gods,
    Sith Priest and Holy-water are so neere,
    360And Tapers burne so bright, and euery thing
    In readines for Hymeneus stand,
    I will not resalute the streets of Rome,
    Or clime my Pallace, till from forth this place,
    I leade espous'd my Bride along with me,
    365Tamo. And heere in sight of heauen to Rome I sweare,
    If Saturnine aduance the Queen of Gothes,
    Shee will a Hand-maid be to his desires,
    A louing Nurse, a Mother to his youth.
    Satur. Ascend Faire Qeene,
    370Panthean Lords, accompany
    Your Noble Emperour and his louely Bride,
    Sent by the heauens for Prince Saturnine,
    Whose wisedome hath her Fortune Conquered,
    There shall we Consummate our Spousall rites.
    375Exeunt omnes.
    Tit. I am not bid to waite vpon this Bride:
    Titus when wer't thou wont to walke alone,
    Dishonoured thus and Challenged of wrongs?
    Enter Marcus and Titus Sonnes.
    380Mar O Titus see! O see what thou hast done!
    In a bad quarrell, slaine a Vertuous sonne.
    Tit. No foolish Tribune, no: No sonne of mine,
    Nor thou, nor these Confedrates in the deed,
    That hath dishonoured all our Family,
    385Vnworthy brother, and vnworthy Sonnes.
    Luci. But let vs giue him buriall as becomes:
    Giue Mutius buriall with our Bretheren.
    Tit. Traytors away, he rest's not in this Tombe:
    This Monument fiue hundreth yeares hath stood,
    390Which I haue Sumptuously re-edified:
    Heere none but Souldiers, and Romes Seruitors,
    Repose in Fame: None basely slaine in braules,
    Bury him where you can, he comes not heere.
    Mar. My Lord this is impiety in you,
    395My Nephew Mutius deeds do plead for him,
    He must be buried with his bretheren.
    Titus two Sonnes speakes.
    And shall, or him we will accompany.
    Ti. And shall! What villaine was it spake that word?
    400Titus sonne speakes.
    He that would vouch'd it in any place but heere.
    Tit. What would you bury him in my despight?
    Mar. No Noble Titus, but intreat of thee,
    To pardon Mutius, and to bury him.
    405Tit. Marcus, Euen thou hast stroke vpon my Crest,
    And with these Boyes mine Honour thou hast wounded,
    My foes I doe repute you euery one.
    So trouble me no more, but get you gone.
    1.Sonne. He is not himselfe, let vs withdraw.
    4102.Sonne. Not I tell Mutius bones be buried.
    The Brother and the sonnes kneele.
    Mar. Brother, for in that name doth nature plea'd.
    2.Sonne. Father, and in that name doth nature speake.
    Tit. Speake thou no more if all the rest will speede.
    415Mar. Renowned Titus more then halfe my soule.
    Luc. Deare Father, soule and substance of vs all.
    Mar. Suffer thy brother Marcus to interre
    His Noble Nephew heere in vertues nest,
    That died in Honour and Lauinia's cause.
    420Thou art a Romaine, be not barbarous:
    The Greekes vpon aduise did bury Aiax
    That slew himselfe: And Laertes sonne,
    Did graciously plead for his Funerals:
    Let not young Mutius then that was thy ioy,
    425Be bar'd his entrance heere.
    Tit. Rise Marcus, rise,
    The dismall'st day is this that ere I saw,
    To be dishonored by my Sonnes in Rome:
    Well, bury him, and bury me the next.
    430They put him in the Tombe.
    Luc. There lie thy bones sweet Mutius with thy (friends
    Till we with Trophees do adorne thy Tombe.
    They all kneele and say.
    No man shed teares for Noble Mutius,
    435He liues in Fame, that di'd in vertues cause. Exit.
    Mar. My Lord to step out of these sudden dumps,
    How comes it that the subtile Queene of Gothes,
    Is of a sodaine thus aduanc'd in Rome?
    Ti. I know not Marcus: but I know it is,
    440(Whether by deuise or no) the heauens can tell,
    Is she not then beholding to the man,
    That brought her for this high good turne so farre?
    Yes, and will Nobly him remunerate.
    445Enter the Emperor, Tamora, and her two sons, with the Moore
    at one doore. Enter at the other doore Bassianus and
    Lauinia with others.
    Sat. So Bassianus, you haue plaid your prize,
    God giue you ioy sir of your Gallant Bride.
    450Bass. And you of yours my Lord: I say no more,
    Nor wish no lesse, and so I take my leaue.
    Sat. Traytor, if Rome haue law, or we haue power,
    Thou and thy Faction shall repent this Rape.
    Bass. Rape call you it my Lord, to cease my owne,
    455My true betrothed Loue, and now my wife?
    But let the lawes of Rome determine all,
    Meanewhile I am possest of that is mine.
    Sat. 'Tis good sir: you are very short with vs,
    But if we liue, weele be as sharpe with you.
    460Bass. My Lord, what I haue done as best I may,
    Answere I must, and shall do with my life,
    Onely thus much I giue your Grace to know,
    By all the duties that I owe to Rome,
    This Noble Gentleman Lord Titus heere,
    465Is in opinion and in honour wrong'd,
    That in the rescue of Lauinia,
    With his owne hand did slay his youngest Son,
    In zeale to you, and highly mou'd to wrath.
    To be controul'd in that he frankly gaue:
    470Receiue him then to fauour Saturnine,
    That hath expre'st himselfe in all his deeds,
    A Father and a friend to thee, and Rome.
    Tit. Prince Bassianus leaue to plead my Deeds,
    'Tis thou, and those, that haue dishonoured me,
    475Rome and the righteous heauens be my iudge,
    How I haue lou'd and Honour'd Saturnine.
    Tam. My worthy Lord if euer Tamora,
    The Tragedie of Titus Andronicus. 35
    Were gracious in those Princely eyes of thine,
    Then heare me speake indifferently for all:
    480And at my sute (sweet) pardon what is past.
    Satu. What Madam, be dishonoured openly,
    And basely put it vp without reuenge?
    Tam. Not so my Lord,
    The Gods of Rome for-fend,
    485I should be Authour to dishonour you.
    But on mine honour dare, I vndertake
    For good Lord Titus innocence in all:
    Whose fury not dissembled speakes his griefes:
    Then at my sute looke graciously on him,
    490Loose not so noble a friend on vaine suppose,
    Nor with sowre lookes afflict his gentle heart.
    My Lord, be rul'd by me, be wonne at last,
    Dissemble all your griefes and discontents,
    You are but newly planted in your Throne,
    495Least then the people, and Patricians too,
    Vpon a iust suruey take Titus part,
    And so supplant vs for ingratitude,
    Which Rome reputes to be a hainous sinne.
    Yeeld at intreats, and then let me alone:
    500Ile finde a day to massacre them all,
    And race their faction, and their familie,
    The cruell Father, and his trayt'rous sonnes,
    To whom I sued for my deare sonnes life.
    And make them know what 'tis to let a Queene.
    505Kneele in the streetes, and beg for grace in vaine.
    Come, come, sweet Emperour, (come Andronicus)
    Take vp this good old man, and cheere the heart,
    That dies in tempest of thy angry frowne.
    King. Rise Titus, rise,
    510My Empresse hath preuail'd.
    Titus. I thanke your Maiestie,
    And her my Lord.
    These words, these lookes,
    Infuse new life in me.
    515Tamo. Titus, I am incorparate in Rome,
    A Roman now adopted happily.
    And must aduise the Emperour for his good,
    This day all quarrels die Andronicus.
    And let it be mine honour good my Lord,
    520That I haue reconcil'd your friends and you.
    For you Prince Bassianus, I haue past
    My word and promise to the Emperour,
    That you will be more milde and tractable.
    And feare not Lords:
    525And you Lauinia,
    By my aduise all humbled on your knees,
    You shall aske pardon of his Maiestie.
    Son. We doe,
    And vow to heauen, and to his Highnes,
    530That what we did, was mildly, as we might,
    Tendring our sisters honour and our owne.
    Mar. That on mine honour heere I do protest.
    King. Away and talke not, trouble vs no more.
    Tamora. Nay, nay,
    535Sweet Emperour, we must all be friends,
    The Tribune and his Nephews kneele for grace,
    I will not be denied, sweethart looke back.
    King. Marcus,
    For thy sake and thy brothers heere,
    540And at my louely Tamora's intreats,
    I doe remit these young mens haynous faults.
    Stand vp: Lauinia, though you left me like a churle,
    I found a friend, and sure as death I sware,
    I would not part a Batchellour from the Priest.
    545Come, if the Emperours Court can feast two Brides,
    You are my guest Lauinia, and your friends:
    This day shall be a Loue-day Tamora.
    Tit. To morrow and it please your Maiestie,
    To hunt the Panther and the Hart with me,
    550With horne and Hound,
    Weele giue your Grace Bon iour.
    Satur. Be it so Titus, and Gramercy to. Exeunt.
    Actus Secunda.