Behold the poor remains, alive, and dead! These, that survive, let Rome reward with love; These, that I bring unto their latest home, With burial amongst their ancestors: Here Goths have given me leave to sheath my sword. Titus, unkind, and careless of thine own, [The tomb is opened. There greet in silence, as the dead are wont, Sweet cell of virtue and nobility, How many sons of mine hast thou in store, That thou wilt never render to me more? Luc. Give us the proudest prisoner of the Goths, That we may hew his limbs, and, on a pile, Ad manes fratrum sacrifice his flesh, Tit. I give him you; the noblest that survives, The eldest son of this distressed queen. Tam. Stay, Roman brethren; - Gracious con queror, Victorious Titus, rue the tears I shed, A mother's tears in passion for her son: To beautify thy triumphs, and return, Tit. Patient yourself, madam, and pardon me. These are their brethren, whom you Goths beheld Alive, and dead; and for their brethren slain, Religiously they ask a sacrifice: To this your son is mark'd; and die he must, Tam. O cruel, irreligious piety! Chi. Was ever Scythia half so barbarous ? Dem. Oppose not Scythia to ambitious Rome. Alarbus goes to rest; and we survive To tremble under Titus' threatening look. Upon the Thracian tyrant in his tent, (When Goths were Goths, and Tamora was queen,) To quit the bloody wrongs upon her foes. Re-enter Lucius, Quintus, Martius, and Mutius, with their swords bloody. Luc. See, lord and father, how we have perform'd Our Roman rites: Alarbus' limbs are lopp'd, Whose smoke, like incense, doth perfume the sky. [Trumpets sounded, and the coffins laid in the tomb. Enter Lavinia. In peace and honour rest you here, my sons! Tit. Kind Rome, that hast thus lovingly re serv'd The cordial of mine age to glad my heart!- Enter Marcus Andronicus, Saturninus, Bassianus, and Others. Mar. Long live lord Titus, my beloved brother, Gracious triumpher in the eyes of Rome! Tit. Thanks, gentle tribune, noble brother Mar cus. Mar. And welcome, nephews, from successful wars, You that survive, and you that sleep in fame. That in your country's service drew your swords: And help to set a head on headless Rome. Tit. A better head her glorious body fits, Than his, that shakes for age and feebleness: What! should I don this robe, and trouble you? Be chosen with proclamations to-day; To-morrow, yield up rule, resign my life, Mar. Titus, thou shalt obtain and ask the em Patricians, draw your swords, and sheath them not Luc. Proud Saturnine, interrupter of the good That noble-minded Titus means to thee! Tit, Content thee, prince; I will restore to thee The people's hearts, and wean them from them selves. Bas. 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 most thankful be: and thanks, to men Of noble minds, is honourable meed. Tit. People of Rome, and people's tribunes here, I ask your voices, and your suffrages; |