In peace and honour rest you here, my sons!

Lav.
In peace and honour live Lord Titus long,
My noble Lord and father, live in fame!
Lo! at this tomb my tributary tears
I render, for my brethren's obsequies;
And at thy feet I kneel, with tears of joy
Shed on the earth, for thy return to Rome.
O, bless me here with thy victorious hand,
Whose fortune Rome's best citizens applaud.

Tit.
Kind Rome, that hast thus lovingly reserv'd
The Cordial of mine age, to glad mine heart!
Lavinia, live; out-live thy father's days,
^{5 note}

Mar.
Long live Lord Titus, my beloved brother,
Gracious triumpher in the eyes of Rome!

Tit.
Thanks, gentle Tribune, noble brother Marcus.

Mar.
And welcome, Nephews, from successful wars,
You that survive, and you that sleep in fame;
Fair Lords, your fortunes are alike in all,
That in your country's service drew your swords;
But safer triumph is this funeral pomp,

That hath aspir'd to Solon's happiness;
And triumphs over chance, in Honour's bed.
Titus Andronicus, the people of Rome,
Whose friend in justice thou hast ever been,
Send thee by me their Tribune and their trust,
This Palliament of white and spotless hue,
And name thee in election for the Empire,
With these our late-deceased Emperor's sons;
Be Candidatus then, and put it on,
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 chose with Proclamations to-day,
To-morrow yield up Rule, resign my life,
And set abroach new business for you all?
Rome, I have been thy soldier forty years,
And led my country's strength successfully;
And buried 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 mine age,
But not a sceptre to controll the world.
Upright he held it, Lords, that held it last.

Mar.
Titus, thou shalt obtain and ask the Empery.

Sat.
Proud and ambitious Tribune, canst thou tell?—

Tit.
Patience, Prince Saturninus.—

Sat.
Romans, do me Right.
Patricians, draw your swords, and sheath them not
'Till Saturninus be Rome's Emperor.
Andronicus, 'would thou were shipt to hell,
Rather than rob me of the people's hearts.

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 themselves.

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 noble Tribunes here,
I ask your voices, and your suffrages;
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 sort,
Patricians and Plebeians, we create
Lord Saturninus, Rome's great Emperor;
And say,—Long live our Emperor Saturnine! [A long Flourish, 'till they come down.

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 requite thy gentleness;
And for an onset, Titus, to advance
Thy name, and honourable family,
Lavinia will I make my Empress,
Rome's royal Mistress, 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 sight of Rome, to Saturninus,
King and Commander of our Common-weal,
The wide world's Emperor, do I consecrate
My sword, my chariot, and my prisoners,

Presents well worthy Rome's imperial Lord.
Receive them then, the Tribute that I owe,
Mine Honour's Ensigns 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 Tamora.
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
That I would chuse, were I to chuse anew.
—Clear up, fair Queen, that cloudy countenance;
Tho' chance of war hath wrought this change of cheer,
Thou com'st 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; sith 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.

Bas.
Lord Titus, by your Leave, this Maid is mine. [Seizing Lavinia.

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

Bas.
Ay, noble Titus; and resolv'd withal,
To do myself this Reason and this Right. [The Emperor courts Tamora in dumb shew.

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?

Bas.
By him, that justly may
Bear his betroth'd from all the world away. [Exit Bassianus with Lavinia.

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