The Persons Names.

ROMANS.

GOTHS.

A Roman Captain, Other Captains, Senators, Tribunes, Plebeans, and Guards. A Dead Son of Titus.

All brought Captives to Rome by Titus.

Saturninus,	Son of the Deceas'd Emperour.
Bassianus,	Son of the Deceas'd Emperour.
Titus Andronicus,	An Old Roman General.
Marcus Andronicus,	A Tribune, Brother to Titus.
Emillius [Aemilius],	A Tribune.
Lucius,	The Son of Titus.
Mutius,	The Son of Titus.
Martius,	The Son of Titus.
Quintus,	The Son of Titus.
Junius,	Son of Lucius, a Child.
Lavinia,	Daughter of Titus.
Tamora,	Queen of Goths.
Alarbus,	A Mute. The Queen's Son.
Chiron,	The Queens Son.
Demetrius,	The Queens Son.
Aron [Aaron],	A Moor in favour with Tamora, and her General.
A Goth,	A Common Souldier.
His Wife [Woman].
A Blackamoor Infant.

The Scene ROME.

To the Right Honourable The Lord Arundel, Baron of Warder-Castle, One of the Lords of his Majesties most Honourable Privy-Councel, and Count of the Empire.

My LORD,

Poets in all Ages have chosen their Patrons amongst the Brave, the Prudent, and the Just: The Brave to Defend, the Prudent to Judge, and the Just to Encourage: To such the Athenians, and Romans made their Dedications. If Writers since have degenerated, and ask'd the Patronage of Persons in whom these Virtues were not Eminent, they hop'd thro' Servile Flattery to bribe a feeble Genius to Liberality. My Lord, I chose to expose this to the Publick under your Name, because in every degree fitted for a Mæcenas, and my self of a Temper not to Idolize and make a Heroe where the Essentials of a Man are wanting. Needless it is then for me to recount those Virtues that Ennoble you, since the Judgment of a Prince that calls you to his Councels, & service in the Management of the

great affairs of State, so amply declare and Confirm 'em to the World: for his Royal Favours are not unwarily or loosely bestow'd, but like his Seal leave an Impression, and give the Stamp of Greatness. Live then, My Lord, to serve a Prince whose personal Virtues render him Great, not only by Nature Endow'd, but by Experience taught; a Prince whose Life from his Cradle to his Coronation, was spent in the School of Virtue; and every Action, whilst a Subject, was a Noble Lesson for succeeding Princes to Learn and imitate: What Monarchs life can shew such a Series of great Deeds and great Sufferings, the Last Most Heroical; for it is Less Glorious to do great Actions, then Nobly to suffer Great Injuries: and thus have his Majesties Virtues been confirm'd with the last and most Illustrious proof of Greatness. If the Universe wanted one Monarch to Govern all, he only cou'd be found, by God and Nature fitted for that Great Command; Nor cou'd any other have so just a Claim; For He, that had liv'd the Best Subject in the World, must best deserve the Empire of the World.

Live, My Lord, in the Service of a Prince whose Descent cannot be parallel'd, if we but turn back our thoughts to the Monarchs of his Race, that have rul'd the English Scepter: The first was James the Learned, the next Charles the Pious, the third Charles the Mercyfull, and now

Reigns JAMES the Warlike and the Just. This is the Prince has call'd You, & those other Noble Suffering Lords to the helm, and how cou'd his Royal Choice be more unerrable, then, when Heaven Vacated a Throne for his Accession, to Elect those whom the fire of Persecution, and Imprisonment had Try'd. Your Virtues like Mettle from the Furnace trebly refin'd come forth without the least Allay or mean mixture: Shine then you Noble Sufferers like a bright Constellation round this Sun of Glory: Thus Influenc'd shall the Orbs of Government move regular, and in Order, like those above, 'till the three Nations are convinc'd of their former Mistakes, and rejoyce to find that Change, which most they fear'd: And since you are Grac'd with the favours of such a Prince, let only your Princes Greatness speak your Praise.

Therefore, My Lord, I will only add my Excuses for this trifle; Things of this Nature have been Encourag'd and protected, by the Gravest Senators, and Greatest Monarchs. In all sorts of Government Plays have been judg'd both Commendable and Profitable, Especially Tragedies, that by representing Hero's, Youth might be taught great Actions, and inspir'd with a Noble Courage to perform and imitate; and by Exposing Base and Ignoble deeds, divert and deterr the ungenerous from their practices. This peice was Calculated to that

Season, when Villany, Treachery and Perjury, Triumph'd over Truth, Innocence and Loyalty. In some degree the End answer'd the Design, for it gaul'd the Plotting Faction by shewing Actions so like their own, and had prov'd the Stages Martyr, had it not been supported and defended by the Loyal and the Brave. Now it comes to partake the Triumphs of your Lordship, whose Virtues render'd you so Eminent a mark of their Malice and Fury; Give it then your favour, as it was a Sufferer in the Cause, and Crush'd for Innocency, and give the Author leave to hope the Honour of being better known to your Lordship, and to wear the Title of,

My Lord,
Your Lordships Most Devoted,
And Most Humble Servant,
Edward Ravenscroft.

TO THE READER.

READER,

I think it a greater theft to Rob the dead of their Praise then the Living of their Money: That I may not appear Guilty of such a Crime, 'tis necessary I should acquaint you, that there is a Play in Mr. Shakespears Volume under the name of Titus Andronicus, from whence I drew part of this. I have been told by some anciently conversant with the Stage, that it was not Originally his, but brought by a private Author to be Acted, and he only gave some Master-touches to one or two of the Principal Parts or Characters; this I am apt to believe, because 'tis the most incorrect and indigested piece in all his Works; It seems rather a heap of Rubbish then a Structure.—However as if some great Building had been design'd, in the removal we found many Large and Square Stones both usefull and Ornamental to the Fabrick, as now Modell'd: Compare the Old Play with this, you'l finde that none in all that Authors Works ever receiv'd greater Alterations or Additions, the Language not only refin'd, but many Scenes entirely New: Besides most of the principal Characters heighten'd, and the Plot much encreas'd. The Success answer'd the Labour, tho' it first appear'd upon the Stage, at the beginning of the pretended Popish Plot, when neither Wit nor Honesty had Encouragement: Nor cou'd this expect favour since

it shew'd the Treachery of Villains, and the Mischiefs carry'd on by Perjury, and False Evidence; and how Rogues may frame a Plot that shall deceive and destroy both the Honest and the Wise; which were the reasons why I did forward it at so unlucky a conjuncture, being content rather to lose the Profit, then not expose to the World the Picture of such Knaves and Rascals as then Reign'd in the opinion of the Foolish and Malicious part of the Nation: but it bore up against the Faction, and is confirm'd a Stock-Play. In the Hurry of those distracted times the Prologue and Epilogue were lost: But to let the Buyer have his penny-worths, I furnish you with others which were Written by me to other Persons Labours, two of 'em were proportion'd to that Mad Season; For when Ill Manners and Ill Principles Reign in a State, it is the business of the Stage, as well as Pulpits, to declaim and Instruct: That was my design when I Writ, and now Print 'em that the Purchaser may not Repine at the Author or Bookseller for a hard Bargain.

Adieu.

PROLOGUE, Spoken in Lent.

Gallants, in this good Godly Time of Lent,
I am come forth to bid you all repent.
You Sparks I see have got a Pious Notion,
You put on Black to shew your great Devotion:
But lest you shou'd mistake what I intend,
Let me tell you your Faults, and how to mend.

First, leave to shew your Valour in the Pit,
Leave Railing at Great Men to shew your Wit.
With Vizard-Masques, leave your Lewd Raillery,
Leave your disturbance in the Middle-Gallery.
Leave all your Jests of Bant'ring and Dum-sounding,
Leave always Duelling and never Wounding.
Leave coming here when you do not intend
To see the Play, but pick up a she-friend.
Leave sharping for your selves, and pay your Guinny
For Procuration there to honest Jenny.

Next for the men of Bus'ness in the Nation,
Let them begin a Thorough-Reformation.
Let 'em leave Faction, Jelousies and Fears,
Leave setting us together by the Ears.
Let Corporations leave Petitioning,
And learn all due Allegeance to the King.
Let Politicians too not be so hot,
To Swear, that a Spring-Tide's a Popish Plot,
Do not too Eagerly that Scent pursue,
Lest Hunting an Old Plot you Start a New.

Leave your provoking Cæsar and his Frowns;
Leave Crossing Birth-Rights and disposing Crowns.
Leave Englands Antient Glory so to wrong,
As naming Princes with irreverent Tongue;
Tho' Forreigners and Enemies they be,
Forget not what is due to Majesty.
Whil'st Brutishly Those Titles we prophane
The World does think we are turn'd Picts again.
Consider well, and then you'l be I hope
So Civilis'd as scarce to Burn the Pope:
But if you will go on, make this Addition,
Burn too the Rump and Westminster-Petition.

EPILOGUE.
Swell'd Big with Expectation you did come
To see us Act our great Affairs at home,
Papists accus'd and Satyrs against Rome:
That might have pleas'd, but still the modest Stage
Forbears to represent the Present Age.
Let Forreign Stories matter here supply,
Old Tales and known, are fit for Tragedy.
Besides, I think the Bus'ness of our Nation,
Too sad a Theam to pass for Recreation.
Let us be Mute 'till the whole Truth comes out,
Not like the Rabble at Executions, shout.
Heathens that knew but just Morality,
Pitty'd the Guilty when they came to dy.
Barbarians at such sights do show Regret,
How far are we then from Religion yet?
Religion teaches mildeness in her Laws,
Triumph, Suspicion upon Justice draws.
Go then contented hence with what you've seen;
Fancy you have two hours in Turky been,
This was no Popish-Plot, yet English too,
For to say truth, it was our Plot on you.

A PROLOGUE, Spoken before the Long Vacation.

Now comes Vacation, that dead time of th'Year,
When nothing but New Plays will bring you here;
Now for the Countrey all you little Citts,
Prepare to gallop down on Smithfield Titts,
Having run out, you go to make up Cash,
To Parents dear—
Equip'd with the Heel-Spur and Spatter-dash.
But you the Graver sort of City-Blades,
Profit does keep in town to mind your Trades,
Whil'st in Crape-Mantoes deckt, and trolly-Primers
Your Wives at Epsom slily play the Siniurs.

You go on Saturdays to see your Honeys,
Are Waggish with 'em, leave 'em Spending-Moneys,
But come on Mundays up to Town like Tonys.
England is blest the Wells are so in fashion,
There, Heirs are got for one third pare of th' Nation.

You Town-Gallants who wallow in Debauches,
New Liveries prepare and fine Gilt Coaches.
And all in Order too to leave the Town,
Each to his Mansion-House does rattle down;
Which many hundred years in th' Name has been,
Where Miss appears as Glorious as a Queen.
The Country at you does but Laugh and Jeer,
Tho' Tenants flatter you for their good Cheer:
But Heark ye, who'l keep House there the next Year?
Scriv'ners and Bankers will have restitution,
E're that time, comes Judgment and Execution.
Punk trusts in Settlement the Misses Joynter,
But by some quirk in Law they disappoint her.
The Country Lawyers too Jog down apace
Each with his NOVERINT UNIVERSI Face;
Rides Jabbering along some damn'd Law-Case.
Young Ladies too attend their Parents down,
Quit their Intrigues and sigh to leave the Town
How innocently there you sit and Chat,
And Walk the Fields in Bongrace or Straw-Hat,
Eat Syllabubs, see Reapers mow, such Sport
Did please you well before you saw the Court.
But fare ye well.—
When you are gone, we'll shut the Play-house door,
The Bully-Gamster, Bawd and Unkept Whore,
Who here remain, will be so very poor,
They'l Venter their Half-Crowns but the first day,
And then—To pick up Cullys, not to see the Play.
All will be Sharpers here, what shall we do,
To Live? Faith let us be oblig'd by you.
Come all and pay your Foyes before you go,
Else we must troop to Scotland after Joh—
We by the last advice for Certain hear
That Haynes does head the Rebell-Players there.

PROLOGUE after the Vacation. Spoken by Mr. Haines.

Friends how have ye done this many a day?
You long'd I warrant you for a New Play:
And we have wish'd as much to see you here;
Well, long Vacation's a damn'd time o'th' year.
When to your Country-Houses you were gone
Some few Pill'd-Garlicks Straggl'd up and down,
Who for meer want of Mony staid in Town.
As for Example, I my self was one.

Shop-Keepers, wanting trade, were off o'th' hooks,
And all day long sat casting up their books;
Drew out their Debts, resolving all to Dun,
As soon as e're you Gallants came to Town.
Or else to Fox and Geese with Neighbour go,
A game resembling much themselves and you.
And Gamesters, who the rest o'th' year went fine,
Now look'd out sharp, and Cry'd, come where shall's dine?
Go to the Tavern, no attendance there,
Except a Drawer snoring in the Bar.
No Roaring-Gallant, nor no Punk that Sings,
The litte Bell but very seldom Rings.
No Hurry nor no Noise as heretofore,
No Crying, Speak i'th' Star, i'th' half-Moon Score.
The streets are quiet too: All the Debauchees,
Were Bullys pawning Whores, and bilking Coaches.
The best on't was, things were not very dear;
For Whores, 'twas the Cheap'st time of all the year.
But some whom sad Experience taught to know,
Their Misery here, left us to follow you.
Pawn'd Rings and Pettycoats, hard shifts they made,
In hopes, at Windsor they might force a Trade.
There Leiger Lay, I see some half a score
That ply'd like Watermen at D'epee's door,
Bawl'd out to Passingers, Next Whore,—next Whore.
But Travelling of Late was much in Fashion,
Some Pilgrim Saints there were of our Vocation.
Only they did it a far different way,
Your Ladies went to sin, but ours, so pray. ^note

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