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Sooth. Here, my good lord. Luc.
Read, and declare the meaning. Sooth. [Reads.] When as a lion's whelp shall, to himself unknown, without seeking find, and be embraced by a piece of tender air; and when from a stately cedar shall be lopped branches, which, being dead many years, shall after revive, be jointed to the old stock, and freshly grow; then shall Posthumus end his miseries, Britain be fortunate, and flourish in peace and plenty.
Thou, Leonatus, art the lion's whelp; The fit and apt construction of thy name, Being Leo-natus, doth import so much: The piece of tender air, thy virtuous daughter, Which we call mollis aer; and mollis aer [To CYMBELINE. We term it mulier: which mulier I divine, Is this most constant wife; who, even now, Answering the letter of the oracle, Unknown to you, unsought, were clipp'd about With this most tender air.
This hath some seeming. Sooth. The lofty cedar, royal Cymbeline, Personates thee: and thy lopp'd branches point Thy two sons forth: who, by Belarius stolen, For many years thought dead, are now reviv'd, To the majestick cedar join'd; whose issue Promices Britain peace and plenty.
Well, And, Caius Lucius,
Although the victor, we submit to Cæsar,
The harmony of this peace.
Laud we the gods;
And let our crooked smokes climb to their nostrils
Friendly together: so through Lud's town march:
Our peace we'll ratify; seal it with feasts.
SCENE I.-Rome. Before the Capitol. The tomb of the Andronici appearing; the Tribunes and Senators aloft, as in the Senate. Enter, below, SATURNINUS and his Followers, on one side; and BASSIANUS and his Followers, on the other; with drum and colours.
Sat. Noble patricians, patrons of my right,
Enter MARCUS ANDRONICUS, aloft, with the crown. Mar. Princes-that strive by factions, and by friends,
Ambitiously for rule and empery,
Lives not this day within the city walls:
From weary wars against the barbarous Goths;
Bus. Romans,-friends, followers, favourers of Ten years are spent, since first he undertook
And in the Capitol and senate's right,
Sat. How fair the tribune speaks to calm my thoughts!
Bas. Marcus Andronicus, so I do affy
[Exeunt the Followers of BASSIANUS. Sat. Friends, that have been thus forward in my right,
I thank you all, and here dismiss you all;
[Exeunt the Followers of SATURNINUS.
Bas. Tribunes! and me, a poor competitor. [SAT. and BAs. go into the Capitol, and exeunt with Senators, MARCUS, &c.
SCENE II. The same.
Enter a Captain and others.
Cap. Romans, make way; The good Andronicus, Patron of virtue, Rome's best champion, Successful in the battles that he fights, With honour and with fortune is return'd, From where he circumscribed with his sword, And brought to yoke, the enemies of Rome. Flourish of trumpets, &c. Enter MUTIUS and MARTIUS: after them, two men bearing a coffin covered with black; then QUINTUS and LUCIUS. After them, TITUS ANDRONICUS; and then TAMORA, with ALARBUS, CHIRON, DEMETRIUS, AARON, and other Goths, prisoners; Soldiers and People, following. The bearers set down the coffin, and Trrus speaks. Tit. Hail, Rome, victorious in thy mourning weeds!
Lo, as the bark, that hath discharg'd her fraught,
[The tomb is opened. There greet in silence, as the dead are wont,
And sleep in peace, slain in your country's wars! O sacred receptacle of my joys,
Sweet cell of virtue and nobility,
How many sons of mine hast thou in store,
Luc. Give us the proudest prisoner of the Goths,
Tit. I give him you; the noblest that survives, The eldest son of this distressed queen.
Tam. Stay, Roman brethren; - Gracious conqueror,
Victorious Titus, rue the tears I shed,
A mother's tears in passion for her son:
Tit. Patient yourself, madam, and pardon me. These are their brethren, whom you Goths beheld Alive, and dead; and for their brethren slain, Religiously they ask a sacrifice :
To this your son is mark'd; and die he must,
Tam. O cruel, irreligious piety!
Upon the Thracian tyrant in his tent, May favour Tamora, the queen of Goths, (When Goths were Goths, and Tamora was queen,) To quit the bloody wrongs upon her foes. Re-enter LUCIUS, QUINTUS, MARTIUS, and MUTIUS, with their swords bloody.
Luc. See, lord and father, how we have perform'd Our Roman rites: Alarbus' limbs are lopp'd, And entrails feed the sacrificing fire, Whose smoke, like incense, doth perfume the sky. Remaineth nought, but to inter our brethren, And with loud "larums welcome them to Rome. Tit. Let it be so, and let Andronicus Make this his latest farewell to their souls. [Trumpets sounded, and the coffin laid in the tomb. In peace and honour rest you here, my sons; Rome's readiest champions, repose you here, Secure from worldly chances and mishaps! Here lurks no treason, here no envy swells,
Here grow no damned grudges; here, are no storms, No noise, but silence and eternal sleep:
In peace and honour rest you here, my sons!
Enter MARCUS ANDRONICUS, SATURNINUS,
Mar. Long live lord Titus, my beloved brother, Gracious triumpher in the eyes of Rome!
Tit. Thanks, gentle tribune, noble brother Mar
Mar. And welcome, nephews, from successful
You that survive, and you that sleep in fame.
Tit. A better head her glorious body fits,
Mar. Titus, thou shalt obtain and ask the empery. Sat. Proud and ambitious tribune, canst thou tell?
Tit. Patience, prince Saturnine.
Sat. Romans, do me right;Patricians, draw your swords, and sheath them not Till Saturninus be Rome's emperor :Andronicus, 'would thou wert shipp'd to hell, Rather than rob me of the people's hearts.
Luc. Proud Saturnine, interrupter of the good That noble-minded Titus means to thee!
Tit. Content thee, prince; I will restore to thee The people's hearts, and wean them from themselves.
Bas. Andronicus, I do not flatter thee But honour thee, and will do till I die;
My faction if thou strengthen with thy friends,
I will most thankful be: and thanks, to men
Tit. People of Rome, and people's tribunes bere,
Tit. Tribunes, I thank you: and this suit I make, That you create your emperor's eldest son, Lord Saturnine; whose virtues will, I hope, Reflect on Rome, as Titan's rays on earth, And ripen justice in this common-weal: Then if you will elect by my advice, Crown him, and say, - Long live our emperor ! Mar. With voices and applause of every sort, Patricians, and plebeians, we create
Lord Saturninus, Rome's great emperor ; And say,- Long live our emperor Saturnine! [A long flourish.
Sat. Titus Andronicus, for thy favours done
I give thee thanks in part of thy deserts,
Sat. Thanks, noble Titus, father of my life!
Tit. Now, madam, are you prisoner to an en[TO TAMOLL To him, that for your honour and your state, Will use you nobly, and your followers.
Sat. A goodly lady, trust me; of the hue That I would choose, were I to choose anew.. Clear up, fair queen, that cloudy countenance; Though chance of war hath wrought this change of cheer,
Thou com'st not to be made a scorn in Rome:
Lav. Not I, my lord; sith true nobility
[The Emperor courts TAMORA in dumb sha
Mar. Suum cuique is our Roman justice: This prince in justice seizeth but his own.
Luc. And that he will, and shall, if Lucius live. Tit. Traitors, avaunt! Where is the emperor's guard?.
Treason, my lord; Lavinia is surpriz'd.
[Exeunt MARCUS and BASSIANUS, with LAVINIA. Mut. Brothers, help to convey her hence away, And with my sword I'll keep this door safe.
[Ereunt Lucius, QUINTUS, and MARTIUS. Tit. Follow, my lord, and I'll soon bring her back. Mut. My lord, you pass not here.
Luc. My lord, you are unjust; and, more than so, In wrongful quarrel you have slain your son. Tit. Nor thou, nor he, are any sons of mine: My sons would never so dishonour me: Traitor, restore Lavinia to the emperor.
Luc. Dead, if you will; but not to be his wife, That is another's lawful promis'd love. [Erit.
Sat. No, Titus, no; the emperor needs her not,
Was there none else in Rome to make a stale of,
Tit. O monstrous! what reproachful words are
Sat. But go thy ways; go, give that changing piece
To him that flourish'd for her with his sword:
One fit to bandy with thy lawless sons,
To ruffle in the commonwealth of Rome.
Tit. These words are razors to my wounded
Or climb my palace, till from forth this place
I lead espous'd my bride along with me.
Sent by the heavens for prince Saturnine,
Tit. No, foolish tribune, no; no son of mine,-
Luc. But let us give him burial, as becomes; Give Mutius burial with our brethren.
Tit. 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,
Mar. My lord, this is impiety in you:
Quin. Mart. And shall, or him we will accompany.
Tit. And shall? What villain was it spoke that word?
Quin. He that would vouch't in any place but
Tit. What, would you bury him in my despite? Mar. No, noble Titus; but entreat of thee To pardon Mutius, and to bury him.
Tit. 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.
[MARCUS and the sons of Tirus kneel. Mar. Brother, for in that name doth nature plead. Quin. Father, and in that name doth nature speak.
Tit. Speak thou no more, if all the rest will speed. Mar. Renowned Titus, more than half my
Luc. Dear father, soul and substance of us all, Mar. 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 barr'd his entrance here.
Rise, Marcus, rise: The dismall'st day is this, that e'er I saw,
Tam. And here, in sight of heaven, to Rome I To be dishonour'd by my sons in Rome!
If Saturnine advance the queen of Goths,
A loving nurse, a mother to his youth.
Sat. Ascend, fair queen, Pantheon: -Lords, ac
Your noble emperor, and his lovely bride,
Well, bury him, and bury me the next.
[MUTIUS is put into the tomb. Luc. There lie thy bones, sweet Mutius, with thy friends,
Till we with trophies do adorn thy tomb!
All. No man shed tears for noble Mutius; He lives in fame that died in virtue's cause.