Sat.
Noble patricians, patrons of my right,
Defend the justice of my cause with arms;
And, countrymen, my ^note loving followers,
Plead my successive title with your swords:
I am his first-born son, that was the last
That ware ^note the imperial diadem of Rome;
Then let my father's honours live in me,
Nor wrong mine age with this indignity.

Bas.
Romans, friends ^note, followers, favourers of my right ^note,

If ever Bassianus, Cæsar's son,
Were gracious in the eyes of royal Rome,
Keep then this passage to the Capitol;
And suffer not dishonour to approach
The imperial seat, to virtue consecrate, ^note
To justice, continence ^note and nobility:
But let desert in pure election shine;
And, Romans, fight for freedom in your choice. Enter Marcus Andronicus, aloft ^note, with the crown.

Marc.
Princes, that strive by factions and by friends ^note
Ambitiously for rule and empery,
Know that the people of Rome, for whom we stand
A special party, have by common voice,
In election ^note for the Roman ^note empery,
Chosen Andronicus, surnamed Pius ^note
For many good and great deserts to Rome:
A nobler man, a braver warrior,
Lives not this day within the city ^note walls:
He by the senate is accited home
From weary wars against the barbarous Goths;
That, with his sons, a terror to our foes,
Hath yoked a nation strong, train'd up in arms.
Ten years are spent since first he undertook
This cause of Rome, and chastised with arms
Our enemies' pride: five times he hath return'd
Bleeding to Rome, bearing his valiant sons ^note
In coffins from the field.
And now at last, laden with honour's spoils,
Returns the good Andronicus to Rome,
Renowned Titus, flourishing in arms.

Let us entreat, by honour of his name,
Whom worthily ^note you would have now succeed ^note,
And in the Capitol and senate's right,
Whom you pretend to honour and adore,
That you withdraw you and abate your strength,
Dismiss your followers and, as suitors should,
Plead your deserts in peace and humbleness.

Sat.
How fair the tribune speaks to calm my thoughts ^note!

Bas.
Marcus Andronicus, so I do affy
In 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 ^note thoughts are humbled all,
Gracious Lavinia, Rome's rich ornament,
That I will here dismiss my loving friends,
And to my fortunes ^note and the people's favour
Commit my cause in balance to be weigh'd. [Exeunt ^note the Followers of Bassianus.

Sat.
Friends ^note, that have been thus forward in my right ^note,
I thank you all, and here dismiss you all,
And to the love and favour of my country
Commit myself, my person and the cause ^note. [Exeunt ^note the Followers of Saturninus.
Rome, be as just and gracious unto me
As I am confident and kind to thee.
Open the gates, ^note and let me in.

Bas.
Tribunes, and me, a poor competitor. [Flourish. ^note Saturninus ^note and Bassianus go up into the Capitol.

^noteEnter a Captain.

Cap.
Romans, make way: the good Andronicus,
Patron of virtue, Rome's best champion,
Successful in the battles that he fights,
With honour and with fortune is return'd
From where ^note he circumscribed with his sword,
And brought to yoke, the enemies of Rome. Drums ^note and trumpets sounded. Enter Martius and Mutius; after them, two Men bearing a coffin covered with black; then Lucius and Quintus. After them, Titus Andronicus; and then Tamora Queen of Goths, with Alarbus ^note, Demetrius, Chiron, Aaron, and other Goths, prisoners; Soldiers and People following. The Bearers set down the coffin, and Titus speaks.

Tit.
Hail, Rome, victorious in thy ^note mourning ^note weeds ^note!
Lo, as the bark that hath discharged her ^note fraught ^note
Returns with precious lading to the bay
From whence at first she weigh'd her anchorage,
Cometh Andronicus, bound ^note with laurel boughs,
To re-salute his country with his tears,
Tears of true joy for his return to Rome.
Thou great defender of this Capitol,
Stand gracious to the rites ^note 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 burial amongst ^note their ancestors:
Here Goths have given me leave to sheathe my sword.
Titus, unkind, and careless of thine own,
Why suffer'st thou thy sons, unburied yet,
To hover on the dreadful shore of Styx?
Make way to lay them by their brethren ^note. [They open the tomb.
There greet in silence, as the dead ^note are wont,
And sleep in peace, slain in your country's wars!
O sacred ^note receptacle of my joys,
Sweet cell of virtue and nobility,
How many sons hast thou of mine ^note 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 ^note fratrum’ sacrifice his flesh,
Before this earthy ^note prison of their bones,
That so the ^note shadows be not unappeased ^note,
Nor we disturb'd with prodigies on earth.

Tit.
I give him you, the noblest that survives, ^note
The eldest son of this ^note distressed queen.

Tam.
Stay, Roman brethren ^note! Gracious conqueror,
Victorious Titus, rue ^note the tears I shed,
A mother's tears in passion for her son:
And if thy sons were ever dear to thee,
O, think my son ^note to be as dear to me!
Sufficeth not, that we are brought to Rome,
To beautify thy triumphs and return, ^note
Captive to thee and to thy Roman yoke;

But must my sons be slaughter'd ^note in the streets,
For valiant doings in their country's cause?
O, if to fight for king and commonweal
Were piety in thine, it is in these.
Andronicus, stain not thy tomb with blood.
Wilt thou draw near the nature of the gods?
Draw near them then in being merciful:
Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge:
Thrice-noble Titus, spare my first-born son.

Tit.
Patient yourself, madam, and pardon me.
These are their ^note brethren, whom you Goths beheld ^note
Alive and dead; and for their brethren ^note slain
Religiously they ask a sacrifice:
To this your son is mark'd, and die he must,
To appease their groaning shadows that are gone ^note.

Luc.
Away with him! and make a fire straight;
And with our swords, upon a pile of wood,
Let's hew his limbs till they be clean consumed. [Exeunt ^note the sons of Andronicus with Alarbus.

Tam.
O cruel, irreligious piety!

Chi.
Was ever Scythia half so barbarous?

Dem.
Oppose not ^note Scythia to ambitious Rome.
Alarbus goes ^note to rest, and we survive
To tremble under Titus' ^note threatening look ^note.
Then, madam, stand resolved; but hope withal,
The self-same gods that arm'd the Queen of Troy
With opportunity of sharp revenge
Upon the Thracian tyrant in his ^note tent,
May favour Tamora, the queen of Goths,
When Goths were Goths and Tamora was queen,
To quit the ^note bloody wrongs ^note upon her foes.

Re-enter the sons of Andronicus, ^note with their swords bloody ^note.

Luc.
See, lord and father, how we have perform'd
Our Roman rites ^note: Alarbus' ^note limbs are lopp'd,
And ^note entrails ^note feed the sacrificing fire,
Whose smoke, like incense, doth perfume the sky.
Remaineth nought but to inter our brethren
And with loud 'larums welcome them to Rome.

Tit.
Let it be so; and let Andronicus
Make this his latest farewell to their souls. [Trumpets ^note sounded, and the coffin laid in the tomb. ^note
In peace and honour rest you here, my sons;
Rome's readiest champions, repose you here in rest ^note,
Secure from worldly chances and mishaps!
Here lurks no treason, here no envy swells,
Here grow no damned drugs ^note; here are ^note no storms,
No noise, but silence and eternal sleep: ^note
In peace and honour rest you here, my sons! ^noteEnter Lavinia ^note. ^note

Lav. ^note
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 ^note'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 fortunes ^note Rome's best citizens applaud!

Tit.
Kind Rome, that hast thus lovingly reserved ^{note note}
The cordial of mine age to glad my ^note heart!
Lavinia, live; outlive thy father's days,
And ^note fame's eternal date, for virtue's praise! Enter ^note, below, Marcus Andronicus and Tribunes; re-enter Saturninus and Bassianus, attended.

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

Tit.
Thanks, gentle tribune, noble brother Marcus ^note.

Marc.
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 aspired 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 ^note trust,
This palliament of white and spotless hue;
And name thee in election for the empire,
With these our late-deceased ^note 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 ^note I don this robe, and trouble you?
Be chosen ^note with proclamations ^note to-day,

To-morrow yield up rule, resign my life,
And set abroad ^note 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 control the world:
Upright he held it, lords, that held it last.

Marc.
Titus ^note, thou shalt obtain and ask ^note the empery ^note.

Sat.
Proud and ambitious tribune, canst thou tell?

Tit.
Patience, Prince Saturninus ^note.

Sat.
Romans, do me right;
Patricians, draw your swords, and sheathe them not
Till Saturninus be Rome's emperor.
Andronicus, would thou wert shipp'd 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, ^note
I will most thankful be; and thanks to men
Of noble minds is honourable meed.

Tit.
People of Rome, and people's ^note tribunes here,
I ask your voices and your suffrages:
Will you bestow them friendly on Andronicus?

Tribunes. ^note
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 ^note 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 commonweal:
Then, if you will elect by my advice ^note,
Crown him, and say ‘Long live our emperor!’

Marc. ^note
With voices and applause of every sort,
Patricians and plebeians ^note, we create
Lord Saturninus Rome's great emperor,
And say ‘Long live our Emperor Saturnine!’ [A long ^note 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 ^note,
Rome's royal mistress, mistress of my heart,
And in the sacred Pantheon ^note 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 ^note of your grace:
And here, in sight of Rome, to Saturnine ^note,
King and commander of our commonweal,
The wide world's emperor, do I consecrate
My sword, my chariot and my prisoners;
Presents well worthy Rome's imperious ^note lord:
Receive them then, the tribute that I owe,
Mine honour's ensigns humbled at thy ^note 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. [To Tamora ^note]
Now, madam, are you ^note prisoner to an emperor;
To him that, for your honour ^note and your state,
Will use you nobly and your followers. ^{note note}

Sat.
A goodly lady, trust me; of the hue
That I would choose, were I to choose anew ^note.
Clear up, fair queen, that cloudy countenance:
Though chance of war hath wrought this change of cheer ^note,
Thou comest 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, he ^note comforts you
Can make you ^note greater than the Queen of Goths.
Lavinia, you are not displeased with this? ^note

Lav.
Not I, my lord; sith true nobility
Warrants ^note 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 ^note and drum. [Flourish. ^note Saturninus ^note courts Tamora in dumb show.

Bas. [Seizing Lavinia ^note]
Lord Titus, by your leave, this maid is mine.

Tit.
How, sir! are you in earnest then my lord?

Bas.
Ay, noble Titus, and resolved withal
To do myself this reason and this right.

Marc.
‘Suum cuique ^note’ is our Roman justice:
This prince in justice seizeth but his own.

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

Tit.
Traitors, avaunt! Where is the emperor's guard?
Treason, my lord! Lavinia is surprised!

Sat.
Surprised! by whom?

Bas.
By him that justly may
Bear his betroth'd from all the world away. [Exeunt ^note Bassianus and Marcus with Lavinia. ^note

Mut.
Brothers, help ^note to convey her hence away,
And with my sword I'll keep this door safe ^note. [Exeunt ^note Lucius, Quintus, and Martius.

Tit.
Follow, my lord, and I'll soon bring her back. ^note

Mut.
My lord, you pass not here.

Tit.
What, villain boy!
Barr'st me my way in Rome? ^note [Stabbing Mutius.

Mut.
Help, Lucius, help! [Dies. ^note [During the fray, Saturninus, Tamora, Demetrius, Chiron and Aaron go out, and re-enter above. ^note Re-enter Lucius. ^note

Luc.
My lord, you are unjust; and, more than so,
In wrongful quarrel you have slain your son.

Tit.
Nor thou, nor he, are any sons 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 promised ^note love. [Exit. ^note

Sat.
No, Titus, no; the emperor needs her not,
Nor her ^note, nor thee, nor any of thy stock:
I'll trust by leisure him that mocks me once;
Thee never, nor thy traitorous haughty sons,
Confederates all thus to dishonour me. ^note
Was none in Rome to make a stale ^note
But Saturnine? Full well, Andronicus,
Agree these deeds with that proud brag of thine,
That saidst, I begg'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 sons,
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 Phœbe ^note 'mongst ^note her nymphs,
Dost overshine the gallant'st dames of Rome,
If thou be pleased with this my sudden choice,
Behold, I choose thee, Tamora, for my bride,
And will create thee empress ^note of Rome.
Speak, Queen of Goths, dost 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 Hymenæus stand ^note,
I will not re-salute the streets of Rome,
Or climb my palace, till from forth this place
I lead espoused my bride along with me.

Tam.
And here, in sight of heaven, 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, Pantheon ^note. Lords, ^note accompany ^note
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 ^note all but Titus. ^note

Tit.
I am not bid to wait upon this bride.
Titus, when wert thou wont to walk alone,
Dishonour'd ^note thus and challenged of wrongs? Re-enter ^note Marcus, Lucius, Quintus, and Martius.

Marc.
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 dishonour'd ^note 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 ^note years hath stood,
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.

Marc.
My lord, this is impiety in you:
My nephew Mutius' ^note deeds do plead for him;
He must be buried with his brethren.

Quin. Mart. ^note
And shall, or him we will accompany.

Tit.
And shall! what villain was it spake that word?

Quin. ^note
He that would vouch it ^note in any place but here.

Tit.
What, would you bury him in my despite?

Marc.
No, noble Titus; but entreat of thee
To pardon Mutius and to bury him.

Tit.
Marcus, even thou hast struck ^note 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.

Mart. ^note
He is not with ^note himself; let us withdraw ^note.

Quin. ^note
Not I, till Mutius' bones be buried. [Marcus ^note and the sons of Titus kneel.

Marc.
Brother, for in that name doth nature plead,—

Quin. ^note
Father, and in that name doth nature speak,—

Tit.
Speak thou no more, if all the rest will speed ^note.

Marc.
Renowned ^note Titus, more than half my soul,—

Luc.
Dear father, soul and substance of us all,—

Marc.
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 ^note did bury Ajax
That slew himself; and wise ^note Laertes' son
Did graciously plead for his funerals:
Let not young Mutius then, that was thy joy,
Be barr'd his entrance here.

Tit.
Rise, Marcus, rise:
The dismall'st day is this that e'er I saw,
To be dishonour'd ^note by my sons in Rome!
Well, bury him, and bury me the next. [Mutius ^note is put into the tomb.

Luc.
There lie thy bones, sweet Mutius, with thy friends,
Till we with trophies do adorn thy tomb.

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

Marc.
My lord, to step out of these dreary ^note 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 ^note by device ^note or no, the heavens can tell:
Is she not then beholding ^note to the man
That brought her for this high good turn so far?
Yes, and will nobly him remunerate. ^note

Flourish. ^note Re-enter ^note, from one side, Saturninus attended, Tamora, Demetrius, Chiron, and Aaron; from the other, Bassianus, Lavinia, with others. ^note

Sat.
So, Bassianus, you have play'd your prize ^note:
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 ^note love, and now my wife?
But let the laws of Rome determine all;
Meanwhile I am possess'd 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 thus much I give your grace to know:
By all the duties that ^note I owe to Rome,
This noble gentleman, Lord Titus here,
Is in opinion and in honour wrong'd;
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 controll'd in that he frankly gave:
Receive him then to favour, Saturnine,
That hath express'd 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 dishonour'd ^note me.
Rome and the righteous heavens be my judge,
How I have ^note loved and honour'd 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.

Sat.
What, madam! be dishonour'd ^note openly,
And basely put it up without revenge? ^note

Tam.
Not so, my lord; the gods of Rome forfend ^note
I should be author to dishonour you!
But on mine honour dare I ^note undertake
For good Lord Titus' ^note 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. [Aside ^note to Sat.]
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 you ^note for ingratitude ^note,
Which Rome reputes to be a heinous sin, ^note
Yield at entreats, and then let me alone:
I'll find a day to massacre them all,
And raze ^note 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 let a queen
Kneel in the streets and beg for grace in vain.— ^note
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. ^note
Rise, Titus, rise; my empress hath prevail'd.

Tit.
I thank your majesty, and her, my lord:
These words, these looks, infuse new life in me. ^note

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 ^note honour, good my lord,
That I have reconciled your friends and you.
For you, Prince Bassianus, I have pass'd
My word and promise to the emperor,
That you will be more mild and tractable.
And fear not, lords, and you, Lavinia ^note;
By my advice ^note, all humbled ^note on your knees,
You shall ask pardon of his majesty. ^note

Luc. ^note
We do; ^note and vow to heaven, and to his highness,
That what we did was mildly as we might,
Tendering our sister's honour and our own.

Marc.
That, on mine honour, here I do protest.

Sat. ^note
Away, and talk not; trouble us no more.

Tam.
Nay, nay, ^note 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. ^note
Marcus, ^note 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. ^note
Lavinia, though you left me like a churl,
I found a friend; and sure as death I swore ^note

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 ^note it please your majesty
To hunt the panther and the hart ^note with me,
With horn and hound we'll give your grace bonjour. ^note

Sat.
Be it so, Titus, and gramercy too. [Flourish. Exeunt. ^note

Previous section