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Goth. Let Rome her felf be Bane unto her felf;
And the whom mighty Kingdoms curtfie to,
Like a forlorn and defperate caft-away,
Do fhameful execution on her felf.

Mar. But if my frofty figns and chaps of age,
Grave witneffes of true experience,
Cannot induce you to attend my words,
Speak, Rome's dear friend; as erft our Ancestor,
[To Lucius.
When with his folemn tongue he did difcourfe
To love-fick Dido's fad attending ear,
The ftory of that baleful burning Night,

When fubtile Greeks furpriz'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 flint, nor fteel;
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 commiferation.

Here is a Captain, let him tell the Tale,

Your hearts will throb and weep to hear him fpeak.'
Luc. Then, noble Auditory, be it known to you,
That curfed 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 defpis'd, and basely cozen'd
Of that true hand, that fought Rome's quarrel out,
And fent her enemies into the
grave.
Laftly, my felf unkindly banished,

The gates fhut 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 preferv'd her welfare in
my blood,
And from her bofom took the enemy's point,

Sheathing

Sheathing the steel in my advent'rous body.
Alas! you know, I am no vaunter, I;
My fcars can witnefs, dumb although they are,
That my report is juft, and full of truth.
But, foft, methinks, I do digrefs 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 iffue 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
Thefe wrongs, unfpeakable, paft patience,
Or more than any living man could bear.

Now you have heard the truth, what fay 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 caft us down,
And on the ragged ftones beat out our brains,
And make a mutual Clofure of our House :
Speak, Romans, fpeak; and, if you say, we shall,
Lo, hand in hand, Lucius and I will fall.

Em. 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.

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

And as he is, to witness this is true.] The Villain alive, and as he is, furely, can never be right. The Manuscript must have been obfcure and blindly writ, fo that the firft Editors could not make out the Word, which I have ventur'd to refore. The Epithet, I have replac'd, admirably forts with the Moor's Character: and Lucius ufes it again, speaking of him at the Conclufion of the Play.

See justice done on Aaron that damned Moor.

Befides, damn'd as he is—is a Mode of Expression familiar with our Author.

Mar.

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

Lucius, all hail, Rome's gracious governour!

Luc. Thanks, gentle Romans: may I govern fo,
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 fhed obfequious tears upon this Trunk :
Oh, take this warm kifs on thy pale cold lips,
Thefe forrowful 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 fum of these that I fhould

pay

Countless and infinite, yet would I pay them!

Luc. Come hither, boy; come, come, and learn of us
Te melt in showers; thy grandfire lov'd thee well;
Many a time he danc'd thee on his knee;
Sung thee afleep, 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 fome fmall drops from thy tender spring,
Because kind nature doth require it fo;

Friends fhould affociate 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, fo you did live again
O lord, I cannot fpeak to him for weeping
My tears will choak me, if I ope my mouth.

Enter Romans with Aaron.

Rom. You fad Andronici, have done with woes: Give fentence on this execrable wretch,

That hath been breeder of thefe dire events.

VOL. VI.

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Luc. Set him breaft-deep in earth, and famish 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 hould wrath be mute, and fury dumb!-I am no baby, I, that with bafe

prayers I fhould 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 him burial in his father's grave.
My father and Lavinia fhall forthwith
Be closed in our Houthold's Monument:
As for that heinous tygrefs Tamora,

No funeral rites, nor man in mournful weeds,
No mournful bell fhall ring her burial;
But throw her forth to beafts and birds of prey:
Her life was beaft-like, and devoid of pity;
And, being fo, fhall have like want of pity.
See juftice 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 it ruinate. [Exeunt omnes.

THE

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