University of Virginia Library

ACT. I.

SCENE I.

Enter Saturninus and his Followers: Bassianus and his, at another door. With Drums and Trumpets. Senators above in the Capitoll.
Saturninus.
Noble Patricians, Patrons of my right,
Defend the Justice of my cause with Arms;
And Countrymen, my Loving Followers,
Plead my Successive Title with your Swords:
I am his first-born Son, who last
Wore the Imperial Diadem of Rome.
Then Let my Fathers Honours Live in me.
Nor Wrong my Birth with this Indignity.

Bassianus.
Romans, friends, followers, favourers of my Right,
If ever Bassianus, Cæsars Son,
Was Gracious in the Eyes of Royall Rome.
Keep then this passage to the Capitoll,
And Suffer not dishonours to approach
The Imperiall Seat, consecrate
To Justice, Continence and Nobility.
But let desert in pure Election, shine
And Romans fight for freedom in your choice.

Enter Marcus Andronicus with the Crown.
Marcus.
Princes, that strive by factions and by friends
Ambitiously for Rule and Empire,
Know that the People of Rome for whom we stand
A Party Interess'd, have by common voyce
In Election for the Roman Empire,
Chosen Andronicus surnam'd Pius,
For many good and great deserts to Rome.
A Nobler Man, a braver Warrior
Breaths not this Day within the City-Walls.
He by the Senate is at length call'd home,
From tedious Warrs against the bloody Goths,
That with his Sons (a terror to our foes,)
Hath Yoak'd a Nation strong, Train'd up in Arms.
Ten years are spent since first he undertook
This cause of Rome, and to chastise with Swords,
Our Enemies Pride; five times he hath return'd
Bleeding to Rome, bearing his Vailiant Sons
In Coffins from the field—
Let us intreat by honour of his Name
And in the Capitoll and Senates right,
(Whom you pretend to honour and adore)
That you withdraw you and abate your strength.
Dismiss your followers, and as Sutors should,
Plead your Deserts in Peace and humbleness.

Saturn.
How fair the Tribune speaks to calm my thoughts!

Bassia.
Marcus Andronicus I do rely,
On thy uprightness and Integrity.
And so I Love and honour thee and thine,
Thy noble Brother Titus and his Sons,
And her to whom my thoughts are humbled all,
The fair Lavinia, Romes bright Ornament,
That I will here Dismiss my Loving Friends;
And to my Fortunes, and the Peoples favour,
Commit my case in Ballance to be wayd.

[Roman Soldiers retire.
Saturn.
Friends that have been thus forward in my right,
I thank you all, and here dismiss you all,
And to the Love and favour of my Country
Commit my Self, my Person, and the Cause.
Rome be as Just and gracious now to me,
As I am confident and kind to thee.
Open the Gates and Let me In,
An humble Suppliant to your Senate.

Bassi.
Tribunes, and me, a poor competitor.

[Exeunt as into the Senate-house.

SCENE II.

Enter a Captain.
Capt.
Romans make way, the good Andronicus,
Patron of Virtue, Romes best Champion:
Successfull in the Battles that he fights,
With Honour and with Fortune is return'd,
From where he circumscribed with his Sword,
And brought to Yoak the Enemies of Rome.

Sound of Drums and Trumpets, then Enter two of Titus's Sons, and then a dead Son brought in Funeral Pomp, then two other Sons, all bearing his Armour, then Titus Andronicus, and then Tamora Queen of Goths and her two Sons, Chiron and Demetrius, with Aron the Moor and others: they stop; the Armour is laid by the dead Son in order.
Titus.
Hail Rome! Victorious in thy mourning weeds,
As doth the Bark that hath discharg'd his fraught,
Return with precious Lading to the Bay,
From whence at first she weigh'd her Anchorage;
Cometh Andronicus, Bound with Lawrell boughs,
To re-salute his Country with his Tears,
Tears of true Joy for his return to Rome.
Thou great Defender of this Capitoll,
Stand gracious to the rights that we intend.
Romans, of Five and twenty valiant Sons,
Half of the number that King Priam had,
Behold the poor remains alive and Dead:
These that survive, let Rome reward with Love,
These that I bring unto their Latest Home,
With Buriall amongst their Ancestors.
Here Goths have given me leave to sheath my Sword,
Titus unkind, and careless of thine own,
Why Suffer'st thou thy Sons unbury'd yet,
To hover on the Dreadfull shoar of Styx,
Make way to Lay them with their Brethren.
The Temple opens, A Glorious Tomb is discover'd where they place the Dead Corps, Warlike Musick all the while Sounding.
There Greet in Silence as the Dead are wont,
And Sleep in Peace, Slain in your Countrys Wars.

Lucius.
Now Give the Proudest Pris'ner of the Goths,
That we may hew his Limbs, and on a Pile
Sacrifice his flesh to our dear Brothers Ghost,
That so his Shadow be not unappeas'd,
No we disturb'd with Prodigies on Earth.

Titus.
I give him you the Noblest that Survives,
The Eldest Son of this distressed Queen.

Tamora.
Stay Roman Brethren, Glorious Conqueror,
Victorious Titus, Behold the Tears I shed:
A Mothers Tears in Passion for her Son,
Is't not sufficient we are brought to Rome,
To Beautify thy Triumphs, and return
Captive to thee, and to thy Roman Yoke,
But must my Sons be Slaughter'd in the Streets,
For Valiant doings in their Countrys Cause?
If to fight for King and Common-Wealth,
Were piety in thine, it is in these.
Andronicus stain not thy Tomb with Blood;
Will't thou draw near the Nature of the gods?
Draw near them then in being Mercifull:
Noble Titus spare my first-born Son.

Titus.
My Son, whom Chance of War your Captive made,
Was Born in Glory too, and for great deeds,
Adopted was the Eldest Son of Fame;
Yet fell a Victim to Plebean Rage.

Lucius.
Deaf like the Gods when Thunder fills the Air,
Were you to all our Suppliant Romans then;
Unmov'd beheld him made a Sacrifice
T'appease your Angry Gods; what Gods are they
Are pleas'd with Humane Blood and Cruelty?

Titus.
Then did his sorrowfull Brethren here,
These other Sons of mine, from me Exact
A Vow, This was the Tenor which it bore,
“If any of the Cruel Tamora's Race
“Should fall in Roman hands, him I wou'd give
“To their Revenging Piety.—To this
Your Eldest Son is doom'd, and dye he must,
Not to revenge their Bloods we now bring home,
Or theirs who formerly were slain in Arms:
For show me now those Valiant Fighting Goths,
I'le kiss their Noble hands that gave the Wounds,
'Cause bravely they perform'd. This was no Cause
But a Sons groaning Shadow to appease,
By Priestly Butchers Murder'd on your Altars.

Mart.
Remembrance whetts our rage, away with him,
On yond Erected Pile kindle a Fire,
And on it strow his separated Limbs,
To be Consum'd in the devouring Flames.

Quint.
Learn Goths from hence, and after keep't in mind
That Cruelty is not the Worship of the Gods.

Tam.
Intention made it Piety in us:
But in you this Act is Cruelty.

Sons of Titus with Alarbus their Prisoner Exeunt.
Chir.
Was ever Cythia half so Barbarous?

Dem.
Oppose not Cythia to Ambitious Rome,
Alarbus goes to rest and we survive
Titus goes up to the Tomb.
To tremble under Titus threatning Look.

Aron.
To tremble said you? did you say to tremble?
No, Madam stand resolv'd, but hope withall,
That the same Gods that Arm'd the Queen of Troy
With opportunity of Sharp revenge
Upon the Thracian Tyrant in his Tent,
May favour Tamora the Queen of Goths
With like Successfull minutes, to requite
These Bloody wrongs and Roman Injuries.

Enter Lavinia, Attendants.
Lavin.
In Peace and Honour Live Lord Titus Long,
My Noble Lord and Father Live in Fame.
Here at this Tomb my Tributary Tears
I render for my Brothers Obsequies,
And at your feet I kneel with Tears of joy,
Shed on the Earth, for your return to Rome.
O bless me here with that Victorious hand
Whose Fortune Romes best Citizens applaud.

Titus.
Kind Rome, that has thus Lovingly restor'd
The Cordial of my Age to glad my heart!
Lavinia Live, out-live thy Fathers days,
And Fames Eternal date for Virtues praise.
Re-Enter the Sons of Titus.
See injur'd Romans and amazed Goths
How Swift revenge has been to Execute;
The Fire is kindled, Alarbus Intrails feed the flame,
Now rest thou manes of our Murder'd Brother.
Naught now remains but that we Close
The Monument, and with Wars Loud Alarums
Take our Leave.

Titus.
Let it be so, and let Andronicus
Make this his Latest farewell to their Souls.
Sound Drums & Trumpets, and Lay the Coffin in the Tomb.
In Peace and Honour rest you here my Sons,
Romes Valiant Champions, repose you here in rest,
Secure from Worldly Chances and Mishaps:
Here Lurks no Treason, here no Envy Swells,
Here grow no damned Drugs, here are no Storms,
No noise, but silence and Eternal Sleep.
In Peace and Honour rest you here my Sons.

The Monument Closes.
Enter Marcus.
Marcus.
Long Live Lord Titus my beloved Brother.

Titus.
Thanks worthy Tribune, Noble Brother Marcus.

Marcus.
Welcome dear Nephews from Successfull Wars,
You that Survive and you that Sleep in Fame;
Your Fortunes are in all Glorious alike,
That in your Countrys Service drew your Swords,
But safer Triumph is this Funeral Pomp,
That hath aspir'd to Solons happiness,
And Triumphs over Chance in Honours Bed.
Now Noble Titus Gratify the Eyes of Rome,
With sight of thee and of thy Valiant Sons.
See how in Crowds they press to Honour thee.

Titus.
Tho' a Conqueror, I am still my Countrys Servant,
And Romes Vassal.

[Exeunt.
[The Scene Closes.

SCENE III.

Enter Emillius, with other Tribunes and Senators: Gives Marcus a Robe, which he Offers to Titus. Enter Saturninus and Bassianus, with Followers, at several Doors—Drums & Trumpets Sound.
Marcus.
Titus Andronicus, the People of Rome
Whose friend in Justice, thou hast ever been,
Send thee this white and spotless Robe,
And name thee in Election for the Empire,
With these our late deceased Emperours Sons
Then stand a Candidate, and put it on,
And help to set a head on headless Rome.

Titus.
A better head her glorious body fits,
Then this that shakes with age and feebleness;
Wherefore shou'd I assume this Robe and trouble you,
Be chosen with Acclamations to day,
To morrow yield up Rule, resign my life,
And set abroad new business for you all.
Rome I have been thy Souldier forty years,
And led my Countrys strength successfully,
And Bury'd one and twenty Valiant Sons—
Knighted in Field, slain manfully in Arms;
In right and service of their Noble Country:
Give me a Staff of Honour for my Age,
But not a Scepter to controul the World.
Upright he held it Lords that held it last.

Marcus.
Thou shalt ask the Empire and shalt obtain it.

Saturn.
Proud and Ambitious Tribune canst thou tell—

Titus.
Patience Prince Saturninus.

Saturn.
Romans do me right.
Patricians draw your Swords, and sheath them not
'Till Saturninus be Romes Emperour.
Andronicus, wou'd thy Aged head lay deep in Earth
Rather then rob me of the peoples hearts?

Lucius.
Proud Saturnine, interrupter of that good
The Noble-minded Titus means to thee.

Titus.
Prince I'le restore to thee the Peoples hearts,
And wean them from themselves.

Bassianus.
Andronicus I do not flatter thee,
But honour thee, and will do 'till I dye:
My Faction if thou strengthen with thy friends,
I will most thankfull be; and thanks to men
Of noble minds, is honourable satisfaction.

Titus.
People of Rome, and peoples Tribunes here,
I ask your Voices and your suffrages,
Will you bestow them friendly on Andronicus?

Emillius.
To gratify the good Andronicus,
And gratulate his safe return to Rome,
The People will accept whom he admits.

Marcus.
Do All consent?

All Tribunes.
All, all.

Titus.
Tribunes I thank you, and this Sute I make,
I hat you Create your Emperours Eldest Son,
Lord Saturnine, whose Virtues will I hope,
Reflect on Rome, as Tytans Rays on Earth,
And ripen Justice in this Common-wealth:
Then if you will Elect by my advice,
Crown him and say, Long live our Emperour.

Marcus.
With Voices and applause of every sort,
Patricians and Plebeans, we Create
Lord Saturninus Romes great Emperour:
And say Long live our Emperour Saturninus.

Emperour.
Titus Andronicus, for thy Favours done,
To us in our Election this day,
I give thee thanks in part of thy desert,
And will with Deeds requite thy Nobleness;
And Titus, to advance
Thy Name, and Honourable Family,
Lavinia will I make my Empress,
Romes Royal Mistress, Mistress of my heart,
And in the Sacred Pathan her Espouse;
Tell me Andronicus doth this motion please thee?

Titus.
It does and in requital of the honour done me
Here in the sight of Rome, to Saturnine
Our Defender and the Worlds great Emperour
I consecrate my Sword, my Charriot, and my Pris'ners,
Presents his Captives to the Emperor
Presents well worthy Romes Imperial Lord;
Receive them then, the Tribute that I owe,
My Honours Ensignes humbled at thy feet.

Emp.
Thanks Valiant 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.

Bassi.
Say Noble Marcus and you the valiant Brothers of that
Lovely Maid, is't not a Tyranny too great to bear?
Shall he the Empire have?
Why Let him, but let him leave Lavinia then:
To be at once depriv'd of Power and Love
Is more then Mortal sure can bear.

Titus.
Now Madam you are Pris'ner to an Emperour,
To him that for your Honour and your State
[to Tamora
Will use you nobly, and your Followers.

Emp.
Of Mein Majestick, and of Features Excellent!
Were I to choose again, this were my choice.
Madam tho' chance of War has brought you here,
You come not to be made a scorn in Rome,
Princely shall be your usage Every way,
Rest on my word, and let not discontent
O're cloud the glory of your Brow.

Tamora.
Tho' here in Chains, yet I am still a Queen,
And have the noble Courage of a Goth.
If in my face you Signes of sorrow read
The Frontispeice is unworthy my mind,
And ill befits the greatness of my Soul.

Emp.
Brave Queen—whose noble Mind in triumph leads
The glories of our Roman Victories,
Ransomless here we set these Captives free,
And pay thy greatness with their Liberty.

Emperour.
Come Lavinia, thou Trophee of the day,
And utmost height of all our joys, for thee
Altars shall be perfum'd with richest Gums,
And Hymens Tapors there shall Blaze;
Slowly you give your Hand, and Trembling Move,
Art thou not fond of Empire or affraid of Love?

Titus.
So Virgins are allow'd their Modest Fears,
They Even Changes for the Better Dread.

Bassi.
See Friends what Longing Eyes she casts this way,
And with her sad looks upbraids my Servile tameness,
Empire I scarce thought truly worth my care
When purchas'd with the hazard of your Lives,
But if friends you are, now Ayd me in my Love.
Love is the Nobler Cause—
[Bassianus Seizes Lavinia from the Emperour
By your leave Emperor and yours Lord Titus,

Emp.
How Bassianus?

Marcus.
The Prince in Justice ceaseth but his own.

Lucius.
And he will and shall if Lucius Live.

Titus.
Traytors forbear, where is the Emperours guard?
My Lord, see you not Lavinia is surpriz'd?

Bassi.
Yes, she's surpriz'd by him that justly may.

Mutius.
Help to convey her hence, and with my Sword
I'le guard this passage safe.

[Exeunt Marcus, Lucius, Mutius, Bassianus, and followers with Lavinia.
Titus.
Treason, all that do love the Emperour
Now follow me and soon I'le bring her back.

[Titus Exit
Emp.
Forbear—
'Till she deserves that care you undertake.

[Exeunt Emp. &c.