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Sat. What, was fhe ravish'd? tell, who did the deed? Tit. Will't please you eat, will't please your Highness feed?

Tam. Why haft thou flain thine only daughter thus ?
Tit. Not I, 'twas Chiron and Demetrius.

They ravish'd her, and cut away her tongue,
And they, 'twas they, that did her all this wrong.
Sat. Go, fetch them hither to us prefently.

Tit. Why, there they are both, baked in that pye, Whereof their mother daintily hath fed;

Eating the flesh, that the her felf hath bred. 'Tis true, 'tis true; witnefs, my knife's fharp point.

[He ftabs the Emprefs. Sat. Die, frantick wretch, for this accurfed deed.

[He ftabs Titus. Luc. Can the fon's eye behold his father bleed? There's meed for meed, death for a deadly deed.

[Lucius ftabs the Emperor.
Mar. You fad-fac'd men, people and fons of Rome,
By uprore fever'd, like a flight of fowl
Scatter'd by winds and high tempeftuous gufts,
Oh, let me teach you how to knit again
This fcatter'd corn into one mutual fheaf,
These broken limbs again into one body.
Goth. Let Rome herself be bane unto herfelf;
And the whom mighty kingdoms curtfy to,
Like a forlorn and defperate caft-away,
Do fhameful execution on herfelf.

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 story of that baleful burning night,
When fubtile Greeks furpriz'd King Priam's Troy:
Tell us, what Sincn hath bewitch'd our ears,
Or who hath brought the fåtal engine in,
That gives our Troy, our Rome, the civil wound,

My

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 speak.
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 ravifhed our fifter:

For their fell faults our brothers were beheaded,
Our father's tears despis'd, and bafely cozen'd
Of that true hand, that fought Rome's quarrel out,
And fent her enemies into the grave.
Lastly, myself 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 the fteel 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 praife themfelves.
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

(17) The Villain is alive in Titus' boufe, And as he is, to witness this is true. ] The Villain alive, and as he is, furely, can never be right. The Manufcript must have been

obfcure

Damn'd as he is, to witnefs this is true.
Now judge, what caufe had Titus to revenge
Thefe wrongs, unfpeakable, past patience,
Or more than any living man could bear.

Now you have heard the truth, what fay you, Romans?
Have we done aught amifs? 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 houfe:
Speak Romans, fpeak; and, if you fay, we fhall,
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 fo.
Mar. Lucius, all hail, Rome's royal Emperor!
Go, go, into old Titus' forrowful houfe,
And hither hale that mifbelieving 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 fon.

obfcure and blindly writ, fo that the firft Editors could not make out the Word, which I have ventured to reftore. The Epithet, I have replaced, 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 be is is a Mode of Expreffion familiar with Our Author.

Mar.

Mar. Ay, tear for tear, and loving kiss for kifs,
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
To melt in showers; thy grandfire lov'd thee well;
Many a time he danc'd thee on his knee;
Sung thee afleep, his loving breaft thy pillow:
Many a matter hath he told to thee,

Meet and agreeing with thy infancy;

In that refpect 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, 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 fad 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 famifh him:
There let him stand, 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 fee him faftned in the earth,

Aar. O, why fhould wrath be mute, and fury dumbI am no baby, I, that with base 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

My father and Lavinia fhall forthwith
Be clofed in our houíhold's monument:
As for that heinous tygrefs Tamora,

No funeral rites, nor man in mournful weeds,
No mournful bell shall 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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