A valiant son-in-law thou shalt enjoy,

One fit to bandy with thy lawless sons,

To ruffle in the commonwealth of Rome.

TITUS

These words are razors to my wounded heart.

SATURNINUS

And therefore, lovely Tamora, Queen of Goths,

That like the stately Phoebe ‘mongst 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 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 everything

In readiness for Hymenaeus stand,

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.

TAMORA

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.

SATURNINUS

Ascend, fair Queen, Pantheon. Lords, accompany

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 all but Titus

TITUS

I am not bid to wait upon this bride.

Titus, when wert thou wont to walk alone,

Dishonoured thus and challenged of wrongs?

Enter Marcus and Titus’ sons Lucius, Quintus, and

Martius, ⌈carrying Mutius’ body⌉

MARCUS

O Titus, see, O see what thou hast done—

In a bad quarrel slain a virtuous son.

TITUS

No, foolish Tribune, no; no son of mine,

Nor thou, nor these, confederates in the deed

That hath dishonoured all our family;

Unworthy brother and unworthy sons!

LUCIUS

But let us give him burial as becomes,

Give Mutius burial with our brethren.

TITUS

Traitors, away, he rests not in this tomb.

This monument five hundred 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.

MARCUS

My lord, this is impiety in you.

My nephew Mutius’ deeds do plead for him.

He must be buried with his brethren.

⌈QUINTUS and MARTIUS⌉

And shall, or him we will accompany.

TITUS

‘And shall’? What villain was it spake that word?

⌈QUINTUS⌉

He that would vouch it in any place but here.

TITUS

What, would you bury him in my despite?

MARCUS

No, noble Titus, but entreat of thee

To pardon Mutius and to bury him.

TITUS

Marcus, even thou hast struck 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.

⌈MARTIUS⌉

He is not with himself, let us withdraw.

⌈QUINTUS⌉

Not I, till Mutius’ bones be buried.

Marcus, Lucius, Quintus, and Martius kneel

MARCUS

Brother, for in that name doth nature plead—

⌈QUINTUS⌉

Father, and in that name doth nature speak—

TITUS

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

MARCUS

Renowned Titus, more than half my soul—

LUCIUS

Dear father, soul and substance of us all—

MARCUS

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 did bury Ajax,

That slew himself; and wise Laertes’ son

Did graciously plead for his funerals.

Let not young Mutius then, that was thy joy,

Be barred his entrance here.

TITUS

Rise, Marcus, rise.

The dismall‘st day is this that e’er I saw,

To be dishonoured by my sons in Rome.

Well, bury him, and bury me the next.

They put Mutius in the tomb

LUCIUS

There lie thy bones, sweet Mutius, with thy friends’,

Till we with trophies do adorn thy tomb. 385

ALL ⌈BUT TITUS⌉ (kneeling)

No man shed tears for noble Mutius;

He lives in fame, that died in virtue’s cause.

Exeunt ⌈all but Marcus and Titus⌉

MARCUS

My lord—to step out of these dreary dumps—

How comes it that the subtle Queen of Goths

Is of a sudden thus advanced in Rome?

TITUS

I know not, Marcus, but I know it is—

Whether by device or no, the heavens can tell.

Is she not then beholden to the man

That brought her for this high good turn so far?

⌈MARCUS⌉

Yes, and will nobly him remunerate.

⌈Flourish.⌉ Enter the Emperor Saturninus, Tamora,

and her two sons (Chiron and Demetrius), with

Aaron the Moor at one door.

Enter at the other door Bassianus and Lavinia with

⌈Lucius, Quintus, and Martius⌉

SATURNINUS

So, Bassianus, you have played your prize.

God give you joy, sir, of your gallant bride.

BASSIANUS

And you of yours, my lord. I say no more,

Nor wish no less; and so I take my leave.

SATURNINUS

Traitor, if Rome have law or we have power,

Thou and thy faction shall repent this rape.

BASSIANUS

‘Rape’ call you it, my lord, to seize my own—

My true betrothed love, and now my wife?