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?