Titus, when wert thou wont to walk alone,
Dishonored thus, and challenged of wrongs?

Re-enter MARCUS, LUCIUS, QUINTUS, and MARTIUS. Mar. O 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 dishonored 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 reëdified.

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 brethren.

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

word?

Quin. He that would vouch't in any place but here. Tit. What, would you bury him in my despite ? Mar. 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 honor 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;1 let us withdraw.
Quin. Not I, till Mutius' bones be buried.

[MARCUS and the sons of TITUS kneel. Mar. Brother, for in that name doth nature plead. Quin. Father, and in that name doth nature speak.

1 This is much the same sort of phrase as he is beside himself.

Tit. Speak thou no more, if all the rest will speed.
Mar. Renowned Titus, more than half my soul,—
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 honor 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.1

Let not young Mutius, then, that was thy joy,
Be barred his entrance here.

Tit.
Rise, Marcus, rise.-
The dismal'st day is this, that e'er I saw,
To be dishonored by my sons in Rome!—
Well, bury him, and bury me the next.

[MUTIUS is put into the tomb. Luc. There lie thy bones, sweet Mutius, with thy

friends,

Till we with trophies do adorn thy tomb!

All. No man shed tears for noble Mutius; He lives in fame that died in virtue's cause.

Mar. My lord,-to step out of these dreary dumps,

How comes it, that the subtle queen of Goths
Is of a sudden thus advanced 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 beholden to the man

That brought her for this high, good turn so far?
Yes, and will nobly him remunerate.

1 "This passage alone would sufficiently convince me that the play before us was the work of one who was conversant with the Greek tragedies in their original language. We have here a plain allusion to the Ajax of Sophocles, of which no translation was extant in the time of Shakspeare. In that piece, Agamemnon consents at last to allow Ajax the rites of sepulture, and Ulysses is the pleader whose arguments prevail in favor of his remains."-Steevens.

Flourish. Re-enter, at one side, SATURNINUS, attended; TAMORA, CHIRON, DEMETRIUS, and AARON: at the other, BASSIANUS, LAVINIA, and others.

Sat. So, Bassianus, you have played your prize;' God give you joy, sir, of your gallant bride.

Bas. 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 have power, Thou and thy faction shall repent this

rape.

Bas. 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 possessed of that is mine.

Sat. 'Tis good, sir. You are very short with us; But, if we live, we'll be as sharp with

you.

Bas. My lord, what I have done, as best I may,
Answer I must, and shall do with my life.
Only this 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 honor wronged ;
That, in the rescue of Lavinia,

With his own hand did slay his youngest son,
In zeal to you, and highly moved to wrath
To be controlled in that he frankly gave.
Receive him then to favor, Saturnine;
That hath expressed 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 dishonored me.
Rome and the righteous heavens be my judge,
How I have loved and honored 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.

1 To play a prize, was a technical term in the ancient fencing-schools.

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

Tam. Not so, my lord; the gods of Rome forefend, I should be author to dishonor you!

But, on mine honor, 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 ruled by me, be won at last,
Dissemble all your griefs and discontents.
You are but newly planted 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 'tis to make a

queen

Kneel in the streets, and beg for grace in

vain.

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.

Sat. Rise, Titus, rise; my empress hath prevailed.
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 honor, good my lord,
That I have reconciled your friends and you.-
For you, prince Bassianus, I have passed
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 highness,

That what we did, was mildly, as we might,
Tendering our sister's honor, and our own.

Mar. That on mine honor 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 swore,
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, we'll give your grace bon jour.
Sat. Be it so, Titus, and gramercy too.

[Exeunt.