And fleep in peace, flain in your country's wars.
-O facred receptacle of my joys,

Sweet cell of virtue and nobility,

How many fons of mine haft thou in store,

That thou wilt never render to me more?

Luc. Give us the proudeft prisoner of the Goths,
That we may hew his limbs, and on a pile,
Ad manes Fratrum facrifice his flesh,
Before this earthly prifon of their bones;
That fo the fhadows be not unappeas'd,
Nor we disturb'd with prodigies on earth.
Tit. I give him you, the nobleft that survives;
The eldest fon of this diftreffed Queen.

Tam. Stay, Roman brethren, gracious Conqueror,
Victorious Titus, rue the tears I shed,
A mother's tears in paffion for her fon;
And, if thy fons were ever dear to thee,
O, think my fons 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 fons be flaughter'd in the streets,
For valiant doings in their country's cause?
O! 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 Titus, fpare my firft-born fon.

Tit. Patient yourself, Madam, and pardon me.
These are their brethren, whom you Goths behold
Alive and dead, and for their brethren flain
Religiously they ask a Sacrifice;

To this your fon is markt, and die he must,
T'appeafe their groaning fhadows that are gone.
Luc. Away with him, and make a fire ftraight.

And

And with our fwords, upon a pile of wood,

Let's hew his limbs, 'till they be clean confum'd. [Exeunt Mutius, Marcus, Quintus and Lucius, with Alarbus.

Tam. O cruel, irreligious piety!

Chi. Was ever Scythia half fo barbarous ?
Dem. Oppofe not Scythia to ambitious Rome.
Alarbus goes to reft, and we furvive

To tremble under Titus' threatning looks.
Then, Madam, ftand refolv'd; but hope withal,
* The felf-fame Gods, that arm'd the Queen of Troy
With opportunity of fharp 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 facrificing fire;

Whose smoke, like incenfe, doth perfume the sky.
Remaineth nought but to inter our brethren,
And with loud 'larums welcome them to Rome.
Tit. Let it be fo, and let Andronicus
Make this his latest farewel to their fouls.

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

4 The Self-fame Gods, that
arm'd the Queen of Troy
With opportunity of Sharp re-
venge

Upon the Thracian Tyrant in

his Tent, &c.] I read, against the Authority of all the Copies, —in her Tent; i. e. in the Tent where fhe and the other Trojan Captive Women were

kept: for thither Hecuba by a Wile had decoy'd Polymneftor, in order to perpetrate her Revenge. This we may learn from EURIPIDES's Hecuba; the only Author, that I can at prefent remember, from whom our Writer must have glean'd this Cir cumftance. THEOBALD.

In

In peace and honour reft you here, my fons,
Rome's readieft champions, repofe you here,
Secure from worldly chances and mishaps:
Here lurks no treafon, here no envy fwells;
Here grow no damned grudges, here no ftorms,
No noife, but filence and eternal fleep.

In peace and honour reft you here, my fons !
Lav. In peace and honour live I ord Titus long,
My noble Lord and father, live in fame!
Lo! at this tomb my tributary tears
I render, 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, blefs me here with thy victorious hand,
Whofe fortune Rome's best citizens applaud.
Tit. Kind Rome, that haft thus lovingly referv'd
The Cordial of mine age, to glad mine heart!
Lavinia, live; out-live thy father's days,
' And Fame's eternal date for virtue's praife!
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 fuccefsful wars,
You that furvive, and you that fleep in fame;
Fair Lords, your fortunes, are alike in all,
That in your country's fervice drew your fwords;
But fafer triumph is this funeral pomp,

5 AND fame's eternal date for virtue's praife!] This abfurd with is made fenfe of by changing and into IN. WARB.

To live in fame's date is, if an allowable, yet a harsh expreffion.

To outlive an eterna! date is, though not philofophical, yet poetical fenfe. He wishes that her life may be longer than his, and her praife longer than fame.

That hath afpir'd to Solon's happiness;
And triumphs over chance, in Honour's bed.
Titus Andronicus, the people of Rome,
Whose friend in juftice thou haft ever been,
Send thee by me their Tribune and their trust,
This Palliament of white and spotlefs hue,
And name thee in election for the Empire,
With these our late-deceafed Emperor's fons
Be Candidatus then, and put it on,

And help to fet a head on headless Rome.

Tit. A better head her glorious body fits,
Than his, that fhakes for age and feebleness :
What! fhould I don this robe, and trouble you?
Be chofe with Proclamations to-day,

To morrow yield up Rule, refign my life,
And fet abroach new bufinefs for you all?
Rome, I have been thy foldier forty years,
And led my country's ftrength fuccessfully;
And buried one and twenty valiant fons,
Knighted in field, flain manfully in arms,
In Right and Service of their noble Country.
Give me a staff of honour for mine age,
But not a fceptre to controll the world.
Upright he held it, Lords, that held it laft.

Mar. Titus, thou fhalt obtain and afk the Empery.
Sat. Proud and ambitious Tribune, canft thou
tell?

Tit. Patience, Prince Saturninus.—

Sat. Romans, do me Right.

Patricians, draw your fwords, and sheath them not 'Till Saturninus be Rome's Emperor.

Andronicus, 'would thou were fhipt 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 reftore 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 till I die;
My faction if thou ftrengthen with thy friends,
I will moft 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 fuffrages;
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 fuit I make,
That you create your Emperor's eldest fon,
Lord Saturnine; whofe virtues will, I hope,
Reflect on Rome, as Titan's rays on earth,
And ripen juftice in this Common-weal.
Then if you will elect by my advice,
Crown him, and fay,-Long live our Emperor!
Mar. With voices and applaufe of every fort,
Patricians and Plebeians, we create

Lord Saturninus, Rome's great Emperor;
And fay,-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 onfet, Tilus, to advance
Thy name, and honourable family,
Lavinia will I make my Empress,

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 fight of Rome, to Saturninus,
King and Commander of our Common-weal,
The wide world's Emperor, do I confecrate
My fword, my chariot, and my prisoners,

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