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And sleep in peace, Nain in your country's wars.
- sacred receptacle of my joys,
Sweet cell of virtue and nobility,
How many sons of mine halt thou in store,
That thou wilt never render to me more?

Luc. Give us the proudest prisoner of the Goths,
That we may hew his limbs, and on a pile,
Ad manes Fratrum facrifice his flesh,
Before this earthly prison of their bones ;
That so the shadows be not unappeas'd,
Nor we disturb’d with prodigies on earth.

Tit. I give him you, the noblest that survives ; The eldest son of this distressed Queen.

Tam. Stay, Roman brethren, gracious Conqueror,
Victorious Titus, rue the tears I shed,
A mother's tears in passion for her son ;
And, if thy sons were ever dear to thee,
O, think my sons to be as dear to me.
Sufficeth not, that we are brought to Rome,
To beautify thy Triumphs and Return,
Captive to thee and to thy Roman yoak ?
But must my sons be Naughter'd in the streets,
For valiant doings in their country's cause?
0! if to fight for King and Common weal
Were Piety in thine, it is in these ;
Andronicus, ftain not thy tomb with blood.
Wilt thou draw near the nature of the Gods ?
Draw near them then in being merciful ;
Sweet Mercy is Nobility's true badge.
Thrice-noble Tilus, spare my first-born son.

Tit. Patient yourself, Madam, and pardon me.
These are their brethren, whom you Goths behold
Alive and dead, and for their brethren Plain
Religiously they ask a Sacrifice;
To this your son is markt, and die he must,
T'appease their groaning shadows that are gone.
Luc. Away with him, and make a fire straight.

And

· And with our swords, upon a pile of wood, Let's hew his limbs, 'till they be clean consum'd.

[Exeunt Mutius, Marcus, Quintus and Lucius,

with Alarbus.
Tam. O cruel, irreligious piety!
Chi. Was ever Scythia half so barbarous ?

Dem. Oppose not Scythia to ambitious Rome.
Alarbus goes to rest, and we survive
To tremble under Titus' threatning looks.
Then, Madam, stand resolv’d; but hope withal,
+ The self-fame Gods, that arm'd the Queen of Trong
With opportunity of sharp revenge
Upon the Thracian tyrant in her Tent,
May favour Tamora, the Queen of Goths,
When Goths were Goths, and Tamora was Queen,
To quit her bloody wrongs upon her foes.

Enter Mutius, Marcus, Quintus and Lucius. Luc. See, Lord and father, how we have perform'd Our Roman rites: Alarbus' limbs are lopt; And intrails feed the sacrificing fire ; Whose smoke, like incense, doth perfume the sky. Remaineth nought but to inter our brethren, And with loud 'larums welcome them to Rome.

Tit. Let it be so, and let Andronicus Make this his latest farewel to their souls,

[Tben found trumpets, and lay the coffins in the tomb.

4 The self-fame Gods, that kept: for thither Hecuba by a

arm'd the Queen of Troy Wile had decoy'd Polymneftor, ir With opportunity of sharp re- order to perpetrate her Revenge. venge

This we may learn from Eurle Upon the Thracian Tyrant in Pipes's Hecuba; the only Au

his Tent, &c.] I read, against thor, that I can at present rethe Authority of all the Copies, member, from whom our Wri

-in her Tent ; i. e. in the ter must have glean'd this Cir. Tent where she and the other cumstance. THEOBALD. Trojan Captive Women were

In peace and honour reft you here, my fons,
Rome's readiest champions, repose you here,
Secure from worldly chances and mishaps :
Here lurks no trealon, here no envy swells;
Here grow no damned grudges, here no ftorms,
No noise, but filence and eternal sleep.

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Enter Lavinia. In

peace and honour reft you here, my sons ! Lav. In peace and honour live lord Titus long, My noble Lord and father, live in fame! Lo! at this tomb my tributary tcars I render, for

for my brethren's obfequies ; And at thy feet I kneel, with tears of joy Shed on the earth, for thy return to Rome. o, bless me here with thy victorious hand, Whofe fortune Rome's best citizens applaud.

Tit. Kind Rome, that hast thus lovingly reserv’d The Cordial of mine age, to glad mine heart ! Lav nia, live ; out-live thy father's days, 5 And Fame's eternal date for virtue's praise !

Nar. Long live Lord Iitis, 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,

s And fame's eternal date for To outlive an eterna! dałe is,

virtie's praise!] This ab- though not philosophical, yet surd wish is made sense of by poetical sense. He wishes that changing and into in. WARB. her life may be longer than bis,

To live in fame's date is, if an and her praise longer than fame. allowable, yet a harsh expression.

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 chose with Proclamations to-day,
To.morrow yield up Rule, resign my life,
And fet abroach new business for

you

all ?
Rome, I have been thy soldier forty years,
And led my country's strength successfully;
And buried one and twenty valiant fons,
Knighted in field, Nain manfully in arms,
In Right and Service of their noble Country.
Give me a staff of honour for mine

age,
But not a sceptre to controll the world.
Upright he held it, Lords, that held it last.

Mar. Titus, thou shalt obtain ard ask the Empery. Sat. Proud and ambitious Tribune, canst thou

tell? Tit. Patience, Prince Saturninus.

Sat. Romans, do me Right. Patricians, draw your swords, and feath them not 'Till Saturninus be Rome's Emperor. Andronicus, 'would thou were shipt 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. Baf. Andronicus, I do not flatter thee,

But

But honour thee, and will do cill 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 noble Tribunes here,
I ask your voices, and your suffrages ;
Will you bestow them friendly on Andronicus ?

Mar. To gratify the good Andronicus
And gratulate his fafe 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 !

Mer. 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, 'till they come down,
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, Tilus, to advance
Thy name, and honourable family,
Lavinia will I make my Fmpress,
Rome's royal Mistress, Mistress of my heart,
And in the facred 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 light of Rome, to Saturninus, King and Commander of our Common-weal, The wide world's Emperor, do I consecrate My sword, my chariot, and my prisoners,

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