7NOble Patricians, Patrons of my right,

8Defend the iustice of my Cause with Armes.

9And Countrey-men, my louing Followers,

10Pleade my Successiue Title with your Swords.

11I was the first borne Sonne, that was the last

12That wore the Imperiall Diadem of Rome:

13Then let my Fathers Honours liue in me,

14Nor wrong mine Age with this indignitie.

15Bassianus. Romaines, Friends, Followers,

16Fauourers of my Right:

17If euer Bassianus, Caesars Sonne,

18Were gracious in the eyes of Royall Rome,

19Keepe then this passage to the Capitoll:

20And suffer not Dishonour to approach

21Th'Imperiall Seate to Vertue: consecrate

22To Iustice, Continence, and Nobility:

23But let Desert in pure Election shine;

24And Romanes, fight for Freedome in your Choice.

26Princes, that striue by Factions, and by Friends,

27Ambitiously for Rule and Empery:

28Know, that the people of Rome for whom we stand

29A speciall Party, haue by Common voyce

30In Election for the Romane Emperie,

31Chosen Andronicus, Sur-named Pious,

32For many good and great deserts to Rome.

33A Nobler man, a brauer Warriour,

34Liues not this day within the City Walles.

35He by the Senate is accited home

36From weary Warres against the barbarous Gothes,

37That with his Sonnes (a terror to our Foes)

38Hath yoak'd a Nation strong, train'd vp in Armes.

39Ten yeares are spent, since first he vndertooke

40This Cause of Rome, and chasticed with Armes

41Our Enemies pride. Fiue times he hath return'd

42Bleeding to Rome, bearing his Valiant Sonnes

43In Coffins from the Field.

44And now at last, laden with Honours Spoyles,

45Returnes the good Andronicus to Rome,

46Renowned Titus, flourishing in Armes.

47Let vs intreat, by Honour of his Name,

48Whom (worthily) you would haue now succeede,

49And in the Capitoll and Senates right,

50Whom you pretend to Honour and Adore,

51That you withdraw you, and abate your Strength,

52Dismisse your Followers, and as Suters should,

53Pleade your Deserts in Peace and Humblenesse.

54Saturnine. How fayre the Tribune speakes,

55To calme my thoughts.

56Bassia. Marcus Andronicus, so I do affie

57In thy vprightnesse and Integrity:

58And so I Loue and Honor thee, and thine,

59Thy Noble Brother Titus, and his Sonnes,

60And Her (to whom my thoughts are humbled all)

61Gracious Lauinia, Romes rich Ornament,

62That I will heere dismisse my louing Friends:

63And to my Fortunes, and the Peoples Fauour,

64Commit my Cause in ballance to be weigh'd.

66Saturnine. Friends, that haue beene

67Thus forward in my Right,

68I thanke you all, and heere Dismisse you all,

69And to the Loue and Fauour of my Countrey,

70Commit my Selfe, my Person, and the Cause:

71Rome, be as iust and gracious vnto me,

72As I am confident and kinde to thee.

73Open the Gates, and let me in.

74Bassia. Tribunes, and me, a poore Competitor.

77Cap. Romanes make way: the good Andronicus,

78Patron of Vertue, Romes best Champion,

79Successefull in the Battailes that he fights,

80With Honour and with Fortune is return'd,

81From whence he circumscribed with his Sword,

82And brought to yoke the Enemies of Rome.

90Andronicus. Haile Rome:

91Victorious in thy Mourning Weedes:

32The Tragedie of Titus Andronicus.

92Loe as the Barke that hath discharg'd his fraught,

93Returnes with precious lading to the Bay,

94From whence at first she wegih'd her Anchorage:

95Commeth Andronicus bound with Lawrell bowes,

96To resalute his Country with his teares,

97Teares of true ioy for his returne to Rome,

98Thou great defender of this Capitoll,

99Stand gracious to the Rites that we intend.

100Romaines, of fiue and twenty Valiant Sonnes,

101Halfe of the number that King Priam had,

102Behold the poore remaines aliue and dead!

103These that Suruiue, let Rome reward with Loue:

104These that I bring vnto their latest home,

105With buriall amongst their Auncestors.

106Heere Gothes haue giuen me leaue to sheath my Sword:

107Titus vnkinde, and carelesse of thine owne,

108Why suffer'st thou thy Sonnes vnburied yet,

109To houer on the dreadfull shore of Stix?

110Make way to lay them by their Bretheren.

112There greete in silence as the dead are wont,

113And sleepe in peace, slaine in your Countries warres:

114O sacred receptacle of my ioyes,

115Sweet Cell of vertue and Noblitie,

116How many Sonnes of mine hast thou in store,

117That thou wilt neuer render to me more?

118Luc. Giue vs the proudest prisoner of the Gothes,

119That we may hew his limbes, and on a pile

120Ad manus fratrum, sacrifice his flesh:

121Before this earthly prison of their bones,

122That so the shadowes be not vnappeas'd,

123Nor we disturb'd with prodigies on earth.

124Tit. I giue him you, the Noblest that Suruiues,

125The eldest Son of this distressed Queene.

126Tam. Stay Romaine Bretheren, gracious Conqueror,

127Victorious Titus, rue the teares I shed,

128A Mothers teares in passion for her sonne:

129And if thy Sonnes were euer deere to thee,

130Oh thinke my sonnes to be as deere to mee.

131Sufficeth not, that we are brought to Rome

132To beautifie thy Triumphs, and returne

133Captiue to thee, and to thy Romaine yoake,

134But must my Sonnes be slaughtred in the streetes,

135For Valiant doings in their Countries cause?

136O! If to fight for King and Common-weale,

137Were piety in thine, it is in these:

138Andronicus, staine not thy Tombe with blood.

139Wilt thou draw neere the nature of the Gods?

140Draw neere them then in being mercifull.

141Sweet mercy is Nobilities true badge,

142Thrice Noble Titus, spare my first borne sonne.

143Tit. Patient your selfe Madam, and pardon me.

144These are the Brethren, whom you Gothes beheld

145Aliue and dead, and for their Bretheren slaine,

146Religiously they aske a sacrifice:

147To this your sonne is markt, and die he must,

148T'appease their groaning shadowes that are gone.

149Luc. Away with him, and make a fire straight,

150And with our Swords vpon a pile of wood,

151Let's hew his limbes till they be cleane consum'd.

153Tamo. O cruell irreligious piety.

154Chi. Was euer Scythia halfe so barbarous?

155Dem. Oppose me Scythia to ambitious Rome,

156Alarbus goes to rest, and we suruiue,

157To tremble vnder Titus threatning lookes,

158Then Madam stand resolu'd, but hope withall,

159The selfe same Gods that arm'd the Queene of Troy

160With opportunitie of sharpe reuenge

161Vpon the Thracian Tyrant in his Tent,

162May fauour Tamora the Queene of Gothes,

163(When Gothes were Gothes, and Tamora was Queene)

164To quit the bloody wrongs vpon her foes.

166Luci. See Lord and Father, how we haue perform'd

167Our Romaine rightes, Alarbus limbs are lopt,

168And intrals feede the sacrifising fire,

169Whose smoke like incense doth perfume the skie.

170Remaineth nought but to interre our Brethren,

171And with low'd Larums welcome them to Rome.

172Tit. Let it be so, and let Andronicus

173Make this his latest farewell to their soules.

176In peace and Honour rest you heere my Sonnes,

177Romes readiest Champions, repose you heere in rest,

178Secure from worldly chaunces and mishaps:

179Heere lurks no Treason, heere no enuie swels,

180Heere grow no damned grudges, heere are no stormes,

181No noyse, but silence and Eternall sleepe,

182In peace and Honour rest you heere my Sonnes.

184Laui. In peace and Honour, liue Lord Titus long,

185My Noble Lord and Father, liue in Fame:

186Loe at this Tombe my tributarie teares,

187I render for my Bretherens Obsequies:

188And at thy feete I kneele, with teares of ioy

189Shed on the earth for thy returne to Rome.

190O blesse me heere with thy victorious hand,

191Whose Fortune Romes best Citizens applau'd.

192Ti. Kind Rome,

193That hast thus louingly reseru'd

194The Cordiall of mine age to glad my hart,

195Lauinia liue, out-liue thy Fathers dayes:

196And Fames eternall date for vertues praise.

197Marc. Long liue Lord Titus, my beloued brother,

198Gracious Triumpher in the eyes of Rome.

199Tit. Thankes Gentle Tribune,

200Noble brother Marcus.

201Mar. And welcome Nephews from succesfull wars,

202You that suruiue and you that sleepe in Fame:

203Faire Lords your Fortunes are all alike in all,

204That in your Countries seruice drew your Swords.

205But safer Triumph is this Funerall Pompe,

206That hath aspir'd to Solons Happines,

207And Triumphs ouer chaunce in honours bed.

208Titus Andronicus,, the people of Rome,

209Whose friend in iustice thou hast euer bene,

210Send thee by me their Tribune and their trust,

211This Palliament of white and spotlesse Hue,

212And name thee in Election for the Empire,

213With these our late deceased Emperours Sonnes:

214Be Candidatus then, and put it on,

215And helpe to set a head on headlesse Rome.

216Tit. A better head her Glorious body fits,

217Then his that shakes for age and feeblenesse:

The Tragedie of Titus Andronicus. 33

218What should I d'on this Robe and trouble you,

219Be chosen with proclamations to day,

220To morrow yeeld vp rule, resigne my life,

221And set abroad new businesse for you all.

222Rome I haue bene thy Souldier forty yeares,

223And led my Countries strength successefully,

224And buried one and twenty Valiant Sonnes,

225Knighted in Field, slaine manfully in Armes,

226In right and Seruice of their Noble Countrie:

227Giue me a staffe of Honour for mine age.

228But not a Scepter to controule the world,

229Vpright he held it Lords, that held it last.

230Mar. Titus, thou shalt obtaine and aske the Emperie.

231Sat. Proud and ambitious Tribune can'st thou tell?

232Titus. Patience Prince Saturninus.

233Sat. Romaines do me right.

234Patricians draw your Swords, and sheath them not

235Till Saturninus be Romes Emperour:

236Andronicus would thou wert shipt to hell,

237Rather then rob me of the peoples harts.

238Luc. Proud Saturnine, interrupter of the good

239That Noble minded Titus meanes to thee.

240Tit. Content thee Prince, I will restore to thee

241The peoples harts, and weane them from themselues.

242Bass. Andronicus, I do not flatter thee

243But Honour thee, and will doe till I die:

244My Faction if thou strengthen with thy Friend?

245I will most thankefull be, and thankes to men

246Of Noble mindes, is Honourable Meede.

247Tit. People of Rome, and Noble Tribunes heere,

248I aske your voyces and your Suffrages,

249Will you bestow them friendly on Andronicus?

250Tribunes. To gratifie the good Andronicus,

251And Gratulate his safe returne to Rome,

252The people will accept whom he admits.

253Tit. Tribunes I thanke you, and this sure I make,

254That you Create your Emperours eldest sonne,

255Lord Saturnine, whose Vertues will I hope,

256Reflect on Rome as Tytans Rayes on earth,

257And ripen Iustice in this Common-weale:

258Then if you will elect by my aduise,

259Crowne him, and say: Long liue our Emperour.

260Mar. An. With Voyces and applause of euery sort,

261Patricians and Plebeans we Create

262Lord Saturninus Romes Great Emperour.

263And say, Long liue our Emperour Saturnine.

265Satu. Titus Andronicus, for thy Fauours done,

266To vs in our Election this day,

267I giue thee thankes in part of thy Deserts,

268And will with Deeds requite thy gentlenesse:

269And for an Onset Titus to aduance

270Thy Name, and Honorable Familie,

271Lauinia will I make my Empresse,

272Romes Royall Mistris, Mistris of my hart

273And in the Sacred Pathan her espouse:

274Tell me Andronicus doth this motion please thee?

275Tit. It doth my worthy Lord, and in this match,

276I hold me Highly Honoured of your Grace,

277And heere in sight of Rome, to Saturnine,

278King and Commander of our Common-weale,

279The Wide-worlds Emperour, do I Consecrate,

280My Sword, my Chariot, and my Prisonerss,

281Presents well Worthy Romes Imperiall Lord:

282Receiue them then, the Tribute that I owe,

283Mine Honours Ensignes humbled at my feete.

284Satu. Thankes Noble Titus, Father of my life,

285How proud I am of thee, and of thy gifts

286Rome shall record, and when I do forget

287The least of these vnspeakable Deserts,

288Romans forget your Fealtie to me.

289Tit. Now Madam are your prisoner to an Emperour,

290To him that for you Honour and your State,

291Will vse you Nobly and your followers.

292Satu. A goodly Lady, trust me of the Hue

293That I would choose, were I to choose a new:

294Cleere vp Faire Queene that cloudy countenance,

295Though chance of warre

296Hath wrought this change of cheere,

297Thou com'st not to be made a scorne in Rome:

298Princely shall be thy vsage euery way.

299Rest on my word, and let not discontent

300Daunt all your hopes: Madam he comforts you,

301Can make your Greater then the Queene of Gothes?

302Lauinia you are not displeas'd with this?

303Lau. Not I my Lord, sith true Nobilitie,

304Warrants these words in Princely curtesie.

305Sat. Thankes sweete Lauinia, Romans let vs goe:

306Ransomlesse heere we set our Prisoners free,

307Proclaime our Honors Lords with Trumpe and Drum.

308Bass. Lord Titus by your leaue, this Maid is mine.

309Tit. How sir? Are you in earnest then my Lord?

310Bass. I Noble Titus, and resolu'd withall,

311To doe my selfe this reason, and this right.

312Marc. Suum cuiquam, is our Romane Iustice,

313This Prince in Iustice ceazeth but his owne.

314Luc. And that he will and shall, if Lucius liue.

315Tit. Traytors auant, where is the Emperours Guarde?

316Treason my Lord, Lauinia is surpris'd.

317Sat. Surpris'd, by whom?

318Bass. By him that iustly may

319Beare his Betroth'd, from all the world away.

320Muti. Brothers helpe to conuey her hence away,

321And with my Sword Ile keepe this doore safe.

322Tit. Follow my Lord, and Ile soone bring her backe.

323Mut. My Lord you passe not heere.

324Tit. What villaine Boy, bar'st me my way in Rome?

325Mut. Helpe Lucius helpe. He kils him.

326Luc. My Lord you are vniust, and more then so,

327In wrongfull quarrell, you haue slaine your son.

328Tit. Nor thou, nor he are any sonnes of mine,

329My sonnes would neuer so dishonour me.

330Traytor restore Lauinia to the Emperour.

331Luc. Dead if you will, but not to be his wife,

332That is anothers lawfull promist Loue.

335Empe. No Titus, no, the Emperour needs her not,

336Nor her, nor thee, nor any of thy stocke:

337Ile trust by Leisure him that mocks me once.

338Thee neuer: nor thy Trayterous haughty sonnes,

339Confederates all, thus to dishonour me.

340Was none in Rome to make a stale

341But Saturnine? Full well Andronicus

342Agree these Deeds, with that proud bragge of thine,

343That said'st, I beg'd the Empire at thy hands.

344Tit. O monstrous, what reproachfull words are these?

345Sat. But goe thy wayes, goe giue that changing peece,

346To him that flourisht for her with his Sword:

347A Valliant sonne in-law thou shalt enioy:

348One, fit to bandy with thy lawlesse Sonnes,

34The Tragedie of Titus Andronicus.

349To ruffle in the Common-wealth of Rome.

350Tit. These words are Razors to my wounded hart.

351Sat. And therefore louely Tamora Queene of Gothes,

352That like the stately Thebe mong'st her Nimphs

353Dost ouer-shine the Gallant'st Dames of Rome,

354If thou be pleas'd with this my sodaine choyse,

355Behold I choose thee Tamora for my Bride,

356And will Create thee Empresse of Rome.

357Speake Queene of Goths dost thou applau'd my choyse?

358And heere I sweare by all the Romaine Gods,

359Sith Priest and Holy-water are so neere,

360And Tapers burne so bright, and euery thing

361In readines for Hymeneus stand,

362I will not resalute the streets of Rome,

363Or clime my Pallace, till from forth this place,

364I leade espous'd my Bride along with me,

365Tamo. And heere in sight of heauen to Rome I sweare,

366If Saturnine aduance the Queen of Gothes,

367Shee will a Hand-maid be to his desires,

368A louing Nurse, a Mother to his youth.

369Satur. Ascend Faire Qeene,

370Panthean Lords, accompany

371Your Noble Emperour and his louely Bride,

372Sent by the heauens for Prince Saturnine,

373Whose wisedome hath her Fortune Conquered,

374There shall we Consummate our Spousall rites.

376Tit. I am not bid to waite vpon this Bride:

377Titus when wer't thou wont to walke alone,

378Dishonoured thus and Challenged of wrongs?

380Mar O Titus see! O see what thou hast done!

381In a bad quarrell, slaine a Vertuous sonne.

382Tit. No foolish Tribune, no: No sonne of mine,

383Nor thou, nor these Confedrates in the deed,

384That hath dishonoured all our Family,

385Vnworthy brother, and vnworthy Sonnes.

386Luci. But let vs giue him buriall as becomes:

387Giue Mutius buriall with our Bretheren.

388Tit. Traytors away, he rest's not in this Tombe:

389This Monument fiue hundreth yeares hath stood,

390Which I haue Sumptuously re-edified:

391Heere none but Souldiers, and Romes Seruitors,

392Repose in Fame: None basely slaine in braules,

393Bury him where you can, he comes not heere.

394Mar. My Lord this is impiety in you,

395My Nephew Mutius deeds do plead for him,

396He must be buried with his bretheren.

398And shall, or him we will accompany.

399Ti. And shall! What villaine was it spake that word?

401He that would vouch'd it in any place but heere.

402Tit. What would you bury him in my despight?

403Mar. No Noble Titus, but intreat of thee,

404To pardon Mutius, and to bury him.

405Tit. Marcus, Euen thou hast stroke vpon my Crest,

406And with these Boyes mine Honour thou hast wounded,

407My foes I doe repute you euery one.

408So trouble me no more, but get you gone.

4091.Sonne. He is not himselfe, let vs withdraw.

4102.Sonne. Not I tell Mutius bones be buried.

412Mar. Brother, for in that name doth nature plea'd.

4132.Sonne. Father, and in that name doth nature speake.

414Tit. Speake thou no more if all the rest will speede.

415Mar. Renowned Titus more then halfe my soule.

416Luc. Deare Father, soule and substance of vs all.

417Mar. Suffer thy brother Marcus to interre

418His Noble Nephew heere in vertues nest,

419That died in Honour and Lauinia's cause.

420Thou art a Romaine, be not barbarous:

421The Greekes vpon aduise did bury Aiax

422That slew himselfe: And Laertes sonne,

423Did graciously plead for his Funerals:

424Let not young Mutius then that was thy ioy,

425Be bar'd his entrance heere.

426Tit. Rise Marcus, rise,

427The dismall'st day is this that ere I saw,

428To be dishonored by my Sonnes in Rome:

429Well, bury him, and bury me the next.

431Luc. There lie thy bones sweet Mutius with thy (friends

432Till we with Trophees do adorne thy Tombe.

434No man shed teares for Noble Mutius,

435He liues in Fame, that di'd in vertues cause. Exit.

436Mar. My Lord to step out of these sudden dumps,

437How comes it that the subtile Queene of Gothes,

438Is of a sodaine thus aduanc'd in Rome?

439Ti. I know not Marcus: but I know it is,

440(Whether by deuise or no) the heauens can tell,

441Is she not then beholding to the man,

442That brought her for this high good turne so farre?

443Yes, and will Nobly him remunerate.

448Sat. So Bassianus, you haue plaid your prize,

449God giue you ioy sir of your Gallant Bride.

450Bass. And you of yours my Lord: I say no more,

451Nor wish no lesse, and so I take my leaue.

452Sat. Traytor, if Rome haue law, or we haue power,

453Thou and thy Faction shall repent this Rape.

454Bass. Rape call you it my Lord, to cease my owne,

455My true betrothed Loue, and now my wife?

456But let the lawes of Rome determine all,

457Meanewhile I am possest of that is mine.

458Sat. 'Tis good sir: you are very short with vs,

459But if we liue, weele be as sharpe with you.

460Bass. My Lord, what I haue done as best I may,

461Answere I must, and shall do with my life,

462Onely thus much I giue your Grace to know,

463By all the duties that I owe to Rome,

464This Noble Gentleman Lord Titus heere,

465Is in opinion and in honour wrong'd,

466That in the rescue of Lauinia,

467With his owne hand did slay his youngest Son,

468In zeale to you, and highly mou'd to wrath.

469To be controul'd in that he frankly gaue:

470Receiue him then to fauour Saturnine,

471That hath expre'st himselfe in all his deeds,

472A Father and a friend to thee, and Rome.

473Tit. Prince Bassianus leaue to plead my Deeds,

474'Tis thou, and those, that haue dishonoured me,

475Rome and the righteous heauens be my iudge,

476How I haue lou'd and Honour'd Saturnine.

477Tam. My worthy Lord if euer Tamora,

The Tragedie of Titus Andronicus. 35

478Were gracious in those Princely eyes of thine,

479Then heare me speake indifferently for all:

480And at my sute (sweet) pardon what is past.

481Satu. What Madam, be dishonoured openly,

482And basely put it vp without reuenge?

483Tam. Not so my Lord,

484The Gods of Rome for-fend,

485I should be Authour to dishonour you.

486But on mine honour dare, I vndertake

487For good Lord Titus innocence in all:

488Whose fury not dissembled speakes his griefes:

489Then at my sute looke graciously on him,

490Loose not so noble a friend on vaine suppose,

491Nor with sowre lookes afflict his gentle heart.

492My Lord, be rul'd by me, be wonne at last,

493Dissemble all your griefes and discontents,

494You are but newly planted in your Throne,

495Least then the people, and Patricians too,

496Vpon a iust suruey take Titus part,

497And so supplant vs for ingratitude,

498Which Rome reputes to be a hainous sinne.

499Yeeld at intreats, and then let me alone:

500Ile finde a day to massacre them all,

501And race their faction, and their familie,

502The cruell Father, and his trayt'rous sonnes,

503To whom I sued for my deare sonnes life.

504And make them know what 'tis to let a Queene.

505Kneele in the streetes, and beg for grace in vaine.

506Come, come, sweet Emperour, (come Andronicus)

507Take vp this good old man, and cheere the heart,

508That dies in tempest of thy angry frowne.

509King. Rise Titus, rise,

510My Empresse hath preuail'd.

511Titus. I thanke your Maiestie,

512And her my Lord.

513These words, these lookes,

514Infuse new life in me.

515Tamo. Titus, I am incorparate in Rome,

516A Roman now adopted happily.

517And must aduise the Emperour for his good,

518This day all quarrels die Andronicus.

519And let it be mine honour good my Lord,

520That I haue reconcil'd your friends and you.

521For you Prince Bassianus, I haue past

522My word and promise to the Emperour,

523That you will be more milde and tractable.

524And feare not Lords:

525And you Lauinia,

526By my aduise all humbled on your knees,

527You shall aske pardon of his Maiestie.

528Son. We doe,

529And vow to heauen, and to his Highnes,

530That what we did, was mildly, as we might,

531Tendring our sisters honour and our owne.

532Mar. That on mine honour heere I do protest.

533King. Away and talke not, trouble vs no more.

534Tamora. Nay, nay,

535Sweet Emperour, we must all be friends,

536The Tribune and his Nephews kneele for grace,

537I will not be denied, sweethart looke back.

538King. Marcus,

539For thy sake and thy brothers heere,

540And at my louely Tamora's intreats,

541I doe remit these young mens haynous faults.

542Stand vp: Lauinia, though you left me like a churle,

543I found a friend, and sure as death I sware,

544I would not part a Batchellour from the Priest.

545Come, if the Emperours Court can feast two Brides,

546You are my guest Lauinia, and your friends:

547This day shall be a Loue-day Tamora.

548Tit. To morrow and it please your Maiestie,

549To hunt the Panther and the Hart with me,

550With horne and Hound,

551Weele giue your Grace Bon iour.

552Satur. Be it so Titus, and Gramercy to. Exeunt.