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Goth. Let Rome her self be Bane unto her self;
And the whom mighty Kingdoms curtsie to,
Like a forlorn and desperate caft-away,
Do shameful execution on her felf.

Mar. But if my frosty signs and chaps of age,
Grave witnesses of true experience,
Cannot induce you to attend my words,
Speak, Rome's dear friend ; as erft our Ancestor,

[T. Lucius
When with his folemn tongue he did discourse
To love-fick Dido's fad attending ear,
The story of that baleful burning Night,
When subtile Greeks surpriz'd King Priam's Troy:
Tell us, what Sinon hath bewitch'd our ears,
Or who hath brought the fatal engine in,
That gives our Troy, our Rome, the civil wound.
My heart is not compact of fint, nor steel ;
Nor can I utter all our bitter grief,
But floods of tears will drown my oratory,
And break my very utt'rance; even in the time
When it should move you to attend me moft,
Lending your kind commiseration.
Here is a Captain, let him tell the Tale,
Your hearts will throb and weep to hear him speak.'

Luc. Then, noble Auditory, be it known to you,
That cursed Chiron and Demetrius
Were they, that murdered our Emperor's brother ;
And they it were, that ravished our fifter :
For their fell faults our brothers were beheaded,
Our father's tears despis'd, and basely cozen'd
Of that true hand, that fought Rome's quarrel out,
And fent her enemies into the grave.
Lastly, my self unkindly banished,

Thut on me, and turn'd weeping out,
To beg relief among Rome's enemies ;
Who drown'd their enmity in my true tears,
And op'd their arms t' embrace me as a friend :
And I am turn'd forth, be it known to you,
That have preserv'd her welfare in my blood,
And from her bosom took the enemy's point,


Sheathing the steel in my advent'rous body.
Alas! you know, I am no vaunter, I;
My scars can witness, dumb although they are,
That my report is juft, and full of truth.
But, foft, methinks, I do digress too much,
Citing my worthless praise: oh, pardon me,
For when no friends are by, men praise themselves.

Mar. Now is my tongue to speak : behold this child,
Of this was Tamora delivered ;
The issue of an irreligious Moor,
Chief architect and plotter of these woes ;
The villain is alive in Titus' house, (17)
Damn'd as he is, to witness this is true.
Now judge, what cause had Titus to revenge
These wrongs, unspeakable, past patience,
Or more than any living man could bear.

you have heard the truth, what say you, Romans?
Have we done aught amiss ? fhew us wherein,
And from the place where you behold us now,
The poor remainder of Andronicus,
We'll hand in hand all head-long cast us down,
And on the ragged stones beat out our brains,
And make a mutual Closure of our House :
Speak, Romans, speak; and, if you say, we shall,
Lo, hand in hand, Lucius and I will fall.

Æm. Come, come, thou reverend man of Rome,
And bring our Emperor gently in thy hand,
Lucius our Emperor: for, well I know,
The common voice do cry, it shall be so.

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(17) The Villain is alive in Titus' house,

And as he is, to witness this is true.) The Villain alive, and as he is, surely, can never be right. The Manuscript must have been obscure and blindly writ, so that the first Editors could not make out the Word, which I have veptur'd to refore. The Epithet, I have replac’d, admirably forts with the Moor's Character: and Lucius uses it again, speaking of him at the Conclusion of the Play.

See justice done on Aaron that damned Moor. Besides, damn'd as he is is a Mode of Expression familiar with our Author.


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Mar. Lucius, all hail, Rome's royal Emperor !
Go, go, into old Titus' sorrowful house,
And hither hale that misbelieving Moor,
To be adjudg'd fome direful flaughtering death
As punishment for his most wicked life.
Lucius, all hail, Rome's gracious governour!

Luc. Thanks, gentle Romans : may I govern so,
To heal Rome's harm, and drive away her woe!
But, gentle people, give me aim a while,
For nature puts me to a heavy task :
Stand all aloof; but, Uncle, draw you near,
To shed obsequious tears upon this Trunk :
Oh, take this warm kiss on thy pale cold lips,
These sorrowful drops upon thy blood-stain'd face ;
The last true duties of thy noble Son.

Mar. Ay, tear for tear, and loving kiss for kiss,
Thy brother Marcus tenders on thy lips :
O, were the sum of these that I should pay
Countless and infinite, yet would I pay them !

Luc. Come hither, boy; come, come, and learn of us
To melt in showers; thy grandfire lov'd thee well ;
Many a time he danc'd thee on his knee;
Sung thee asleep, his loving breast thy pillow :
Many a matter hath he told to thee,
Meet and agreeing with thy infancy ;
In that respect then, like a loving child,
Shed yet some small drops from thy tender spring,
Because kind nature doth require it so;
Friends should associate friends, in grief and woe :
Bid him farewel, commit him to the grave ;
Do him that kindness, and take leave of him.

Boy. O grandfire, grandfire ! ev'n with all my heart,
'Would I were dead, so you did live again
O lord, I cannot speak to him for weeping
My tears will choak me, if I ope my mouth.

Enter Romans with Aaron.
Rom. You sad Andronici, have done with woes :
Give sentence on this execrable wretch,
That hath been breeder of these dire events,



Luc. Set him breaft-deep in earth, and famith him : There let him ftand, and rave and cry for food : If any one relieves or pities him, For the offence he dies: this is our doom. Some stay to see him faftned in the earth.

Aar. O, why should wrath be mute, and fury dumb!... I am no baby, I, that with bafe prayers I should repent the evil I have done : Ten thousand worse, than ever yet I did, Would I perform, if I might have my will : If one good deed in all my life I did, I do repent it from my very foul.

Luc. Some loving friends convey the Emp'ror hence, And give bim burial in his father's grave. My father and Lavinia shall førthwith Be closed in our Houshold's Monument : As for that heinous tygress Tamora, No funeral rites, nor man in mournful weeds, No mournful bell shall ring her burial; But throw her forth to beasts and birds of prey : Her life was beast-like, and devoid of pity; And, being so, shall have like want of pity. See justice done on Aaron that damn'd Moor, From whom our heavy haps had their beginning; Then, afterwards, we'll order well the State ; That like events may ne'er is ruinate. [Exeunt omnes.


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