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Re-enter Marcus, Lucius, QUINTUS, and Martius.

Marc. 0, 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, 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.

Quint., Mart. And shall, or him we will accompany, Tit. And shall! What villain was it spake that

word? Quint. 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.
Quint. Not I, till Mutius' bones be buried.

[The Brother and the Sons kneel. Marc. Brother, for in that name doth nature plead. Quint. Father, and in that name doth nature speak. 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.

[They put Murius in the tomb. Luc. There lie thy bones, sweet Mutius, with thy

friends, Till we with trophies do adorn thy tomb.

[They all kneel and say, No man shed tears for noble Mutius; He lives in fame that died in virtue's cause.

[Exeunt all but Marcus and Tirus. Marc. My lord, — to step out of these dreary

dumps,How comes it that the subtle queen of Goths Is of a sudden thus advanc'd 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. Enter the Emperor, TAMora and her two Sons, with

the Moor, at one side ; enter at the other side, BasSIANUS and LAVINIA, with others.

Sat. So, Bassianus, you have play'd your prize ! God give you joy, sir, of your gallant bride!

Bass. And you of yours, my lord. I say no more, Nor wish no less; and so I take my leave.

Sat. Traitor, if Rome have law, or we bave power, Thou and thy faction shall repent this rape.

Bass. Rape call you it, my lord, to seize my own, My true betrothed love, and now my wife? But let the laws of Rome determine all; Meanwhile I am possess'd of that is mine.

Sat. T is good, sir; you are very short with us; But, if we live, we 'll be as sharp with you.

Bass. My lord, what I have done, as best I may Answer I must, and shall do with my life. Only thus much I give your grace to know : By all the duties that I owe to Rome, This noble gentleman, lord Titus here, Is in opinion and in honour wrong'd, That, in the rescue of Lavinia, With his own hand did slay his youngest son, In zeal to you, and highly mov'd to wrath, To be controll'd in that he frankly gave. Receive him, then, to favour, Saturnine, That hath express'd himself, in all his deeds, A father and a friend to thee and Rome.

Tit. Prince Bassianus, leave to plead my deeds : 'Tis thou, and those, that have dishonour'd me. Rome, and the righteous heavens, be my judge, How I have lov'd and honour'd Saturnine.

Tam. My worthy lord, if ever Tamora Were gracious in those princely eyes of thine, Then hear me speak, indifferently for all : And at my suit, sweet, pardon what is past.

Sat. What, madam! be dishonour'd openly And basely put it up without revenge ?

Tam. Not so, my lord; the gods of Rome forfend I should be author to dishonour you. But on mine honour, dare I undertake For good lord Titus' innocence in all :

Whose fury not dissembled speaks his griefs :
Then, at my suit, look graciously on him :
Lose not so noble a friend on vain suppose;
Nor with sour looks afflict his gentle heart.
My lord, be rul'd by me, be won at last ;
Dissemble all your griefs and discontents :
You are but newly planteil in your throne;
Lest then the people, and patricians too,
Upon a just survey take Titus' part,
And so supplant us for ingratitude,
Which Rome reputes to be a heinous sin.
Yield at entreats, and then let me alone :
I 'll find a day to massacre them all;
And raze their faction and their family,
The cruel father, and his traitorous sons,
To whom I sued for my dear son's life;
And make them know, what 't is to let a queen
Kneel in the streets, and beg for grace in vain.

[The preceding fourteen lines are spoken aside.
Come, come, sweet emperor; come, Andronicus;
Take up this good old man, and cheer the heart
That dies in tempest of thy angry frown.
King. Rise, Titus, rise; my empress hath prevail d.

Tit. I thank your majesty, and her, my lord.
These words, these looks, infuse new life in me.

Tam. Titus, I am incorporate in Rome,
A Roman now adopted happily,
And must advise the emperor for his good,
This day all quarrels die, Andronicus;
And let it be mine honour, good my lord,
That I have reconcil'd your friends and you.
For you, prince Bassianus, I have pass d
My word and promise to the emperor,
That you will be more mild and tractable:
And fear not, lords : and you, Lavinia,
By my advice, all humbled on your knees,
You shall ask pardon of his majesty.

Luc. We do; and vow to heaven, and to his high

ness,
That what we did was mildly, as we might,
Tend'ring our sister's honour and our own.

Marc. That on mine honour here I do protest.
Sat. Away, and talk not; trouble us no more.-
Tam. Nay, nay, sweet emperor, we must all be

friends :
The tribune and his nephews kneel for grace;
I will not be denied. Sweet heart, look back.

Sat. Marcus, for thy sake, and thy brother's here, And at my lovely Tamora's entreats, I do remit these young men's heinous faults. Stand up. Lavinia, though you left me like a churl, I found a friend : and sure as death I sware, I would not part a bachelor from the priest. Come, if the emperor's court can feast two brides, You are my guest, Lavinia, and your friends : This day shall be a love-day, Tamora.

Tit. To-morrow, an it please your majesty, To hunt the panther and the hart with me, With horn and hound, wé 'll give your grace bon-jour.

Sat. Be it so, Titus, and gramercy too. (Exeunt.

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