Imagens das páginas
PDF
ePub

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.

Baj. Andronicus, I do not flatter thee,
But honour thee, and will do 'till I'die:
My faction if thou strengthen 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 safe 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!

Mar. With voices and applause of every fort,
Patricians and Plebeians, we create
Lord Saturninus, Rome's great Emperor;
And say,-Long live our Emperor Saturnine !

[ A long flourish, 'till they come downa
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 require thy gentleness:
And for an onset, Titus, to advance
Thy name, and honourable family,
Lavinia will I make my Emperess,
Rome's royal miftress, mistress of my heart,
And in the sacred 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

The wide world's Emperor, do I consecrate
My fword, my chariot, and my prisoners;
Presents well worthy Rome's imperial Lord.
Receive them then, the tribute that I owe,
Mine honour's enfigns humbled at thy feet.
Sat. Thanks, noble Titus, father of

my

life!
How proud I am of thee, and of thy gifts,
Rome shall record; and when I do forget
The least of these unspeakable deserts,
Romans, forget your fealty to me.

Tit. Now, madam, are you prisoner to an Emperor;
To him, that for your honour and your state
Will use you nobly, and your followers.

Sat. A goodly Lady, trust me, of the hue (To Tamora. That I would chuse, were I to chuse a-new : Clear up, fair Queen, that cloudy countenance; Tho'chance of war hath wrought this change of cheer, Thou com'ft not to be made a scorn in Rome : Princely shall be thy usage every way. Rest on my word, and let not discontent Daunt all your hopes: Madam, who comforts you, Can make you greater than the Queen of Goths. Lavinia, you are not displeas'd with this ?

Lav. Not I, my Lord; fith true nobility Warrants these words in princely courtesy.

Sat. Thanks, sweet Lavinia ; Romans, let us go. Ransomless here we set our prisoners free; Proclaim our honours, Lords, with trump and drum. Baf. Lord Titus, by your leave, this maid is mine,

(Seizing Lavinia. Tit. How, Sir? are you in earnest then, my Lord ?

Baj. Ay, noble Titus; and resolv'd withal, To do myself this reason and this right.

[The Emperor courts Tamora in dumb few. Mar. Suum cuique is our Roman justice : This Prince in justice seizeth but his own.

Luc. And that he will, and shall, if Lucius live.

Tit. Traitors, avant! where is the Emperor's guard? Treason, my Lord ; Lavinia is surpriz'd. Sat. Surpriz'd! by whom?

[ocr errors]

Bal. By him, that juftly may
Bear his betroth'd from all the world away.

[Exit Baflinus with Lavinia, Mut. Brothers, help to convey her hence away, And with my sword I'll keep this door secure.

Tit. Follow, my Lord, and I'll foon bring her back.
Mut. My Lord, you pass not here.

Tit. What! villain-boy,
Barr'it me my way in Rome ?

[He kills bim, Mut. Help, Lucius, help!

Luc. My Lord, you are unjust, and more than fo; In wrongful quarrel you have sain your fon.

Tit. Nor thou, nor he, are any fons of mine :
My sons would never so dishonour me.
Traitor, restore Lavinia to the Emperor.

Luc. Dead, if you will, but not to be his wife,
That is another's lawful promis'd love.

Sat. No, Titus, no, the Emperor needs her not;
Nor her, nor thee, nor any of thy stock;
I'll trust by leisure hiin, that mocks me once:
Thee never, nor thy traiterous haughty fons,
Confederates all, thus to dishonour me.
Was there none else in Rome to make a stale of,
But Saturnine? full well, Andronicus,
Agree these deeds with that proud brag of thine,
That said's, I beg'd the empire at thy hands.

Tit. O monstrous! what reproachful words are these;

Sat. But go thy ways; go give that changing piece, To him that flourish'd for her with his sword; A valiant son-in-law thou shalt enjoy: One fit to bandy with thy lawless fons, To ruffle in the commonwealth of Rome.

Tit. These words are razors to my wounded heart.

Sat. And therefore, lovely Tamora, Queen of Goths, That, like the stately Phæbe 'mong her nymphs, Dost over-hine the gallant'ft dames of Rome; If thou be pleas'd with this my sudden choice, Behold, I chose thee, Tamora, for

my

bride, And will create thee Emperess of Rome. Speak; Queen of Goths, doft thou applaud my choice?

And here I swear by all the Roman gods,
(Sith priest and holy water are so near,
And tapers burn so bright, and every thing
In readiness for Hymeneus ftands,)
I will not re-falute the streets of Rome,
Or climb my palace, 'till from forth this place
I lead espous'd my bride along with me.

Tam. And here in sight of heav'n to Rome I swear,
If Saturnine advance the Queen of Goths,
She will a handmaid be to his desires,
A loving nurse, a mother to his youth.

Sat. Ascend, fair Queen, Panthen; Lords, accompany Your noble Emperor, and his lovely bride, Sent by the heavens for Prince Saturnine ; Whose wisdom hath her fortune conquered : There shall we consummate our spousal rites. [Exeunt.

Manet Titus Andronicus. Tit. I am not bid to wait

upon

this le. Titus, when wert thou wont to walk alone, Dishonour'd thus, and challenged of wrongs ? Enter Marcus Andronicus, Lucius, Quintus, and Marcus.

Mar. Oh, Titus, fee, oh, fee, what thou hast done! In a bad quarrel Nain a virtuous son.

Tit. No, foolish tribune, no: no son of mine,
Nor thou, nor these confederates in the deed,
That hath dishonoured all our family ;
Unworthy brother, and unworthy fons.

Luc. But let us give him burial, as becomes;
Give Mutius burial with our bretheren.

Tit. Traitors, away! he refts not in this tomb;
This monument five hundred years hath ftood,
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.

Mar. My Lord, this is impiety in you;
My nephew Mutius' deeds do plead for him :
He must be buried with his bretheren. [Titus's fons speak.

Sons,

Sons. And Thall, or him we will accompany.
Tit. And shall? what villain was it spake that word?

Titus's Jon Speaks. Quin. He, that would vouch't in any place but here. Tit. What, would

you bury him in my despight? Mar. No, noble Titus; but intreat of thee To pardon Mutius, and to bury him.

Tit. Marcus, ev’n thou haft 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.

Luc. He is not himself, let us withdraw.
Quin. Not I, 'till Mutius' bones be buried.

[The brother and the fons kneel.
Mar. Brother, for in that name doth nature plead,
Quin. Father, and in that name doth nature speak.
Tit. Speak thou no more, if all the rest will speed.
Mar. Renowned Titus, more than half
Luc. Dear father, soul and substance of us all..

Mar. 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, (7)
That flew himself; and wife Laertes' fon
Did graciously plead for his funerals.
Let not
t young

Mutius then, that was thy joy,
Be barr'd his entrance here.

Tit. Rise, Marcus, rise.
The dismall's day is this, that ev'r I saw,
To be dishonour'd by my fons in Rome:
Well; bury him, and bury me the next.

[They put him in the tamb. Luc. Therelye thy bones, sweet Mutius, with thy friends,

my soul,

(7) The Greeks, upon advice, did bury Ajax,

That few bimself;--- ] As the author before shew'd himself acquainted with a circumitance glean’d from Euripides, we find him there no less conversant with ihe Ajax of SOPHOC L ES; in which Ulvsjes and Teucer strenuously contend for permission to bury the body of Ajax, tho' he had been declar'd an enemy to the confederate states of Greece. Vol. VI.

K

'Till

« AnteriorContinuar »