[Exeunt LUCIUS, QUINTUS, MARTIUS, and MUTIUS with ALARBUS.]
TAMORA.
O cruel, irreligious piety!
CHIRON.
Was ever Scythia half so barbarous!
DEMETRIUS.
Oppose not Scythia to ambitious Rome.
Alarbus goes to rest; and we survive
To tremble under Titus’ threatening look.
Then, madam, stand resolv’d; but hope withal
The selfsame gods that arm’d the Queen of Troy
With opportunity of sharp revenge
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.]
LUCIUS.
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 naught but to inter our brethren,
And with loud ‘larums welcome them to Rome.
TITUS.
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 in rest,
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:
[Enter LAVINIA.]
In peace and honour rest you here, my sons!
LAVINIA.
In peace and honour live Lord Titus long;
My noble lord and father, live in fame!
Lo, at this tomb my tributary tears
I render for my brethren’s obsequies;
And at thy feet I kneel, with tears of joy
Shed on this earth for thy return to Rome;
O, bless me here with thy victorious hand,
Whose fortunes Rome’s best citizens applaud!
TITUS.
Kind Rome, that hast thus lovingly reserv’d
The cordial of mine age to glad my heart!—
Lavinia, live; outlive thy father’s days,
And fame’s eternal date, for virtue’s praise!
[Enter, below, MARCUS ANDRONICUS and Tribunes; re-enter SATURNINUS, BASSIANUS, and Attendants.]
MARCUS.
Long live Lord Titus, my beloved brother,
Gracious triumpher in the eyes of Rome!
TITUS.
Thanks, gentle tribune, noble brother Marcus.
MARCUS.
And welcome, nephews, from successful wars,
You that survive and you that sleep in fame!
Fair lords, your fortunes are alike in all,
That in your country’s service drew your swords:
But safer triumph is this funeral pomp
That hath aspir’d to Solon’s happiness
And triumphs over chance in honour’s bed.—
Titus Andronicus, the people of Rome,
Whose friend in justice thou hast ever been,
Send thee by me, their tribune and their trust,
This palliament of white and spotless hue;
And name thee in election for the empire
With these our late-deceased emperor’s sons:
Be candidatus then, and put it on,
And help to set a head on headless Rome.
TITUS.
A better head her glorious body fits
Than his that shakes for age and feebleness:
What, should I don this robe and trouble you?
Be chosen with proclamations to-day,
Tomorrow yield up rule, resign my life,
And set abroach new business for you all?
Rome, I have been thy soldier forty years,
And led my country’s strength successfully,
And buried one-and-twenty valiant sons,
Knighted in field, slain manfully in arms,
In right and service of their noble country:
Give me a staff of honour for mine age,
But not a sceptre to control the world;
Upright he held it, lords, that held it last.
MARCUS.
Titus, thou shalt obtain and ask the empery.
SATURNINUS.
Proud and ambitious tribune, canst thou tell?
TITUS.
Patience, Prince Saturninus.
SATURNINUS.
Romans, do me right;—
Patricians, draw your swords, and sheathe them not
Till Saturninus be Rome’s Emperor.—
Andronicus, would thou were shipp’d to hell
Rather than rob me of the people’s hearts!
LUCIUS.
Proud Saturnine, interrupter of the good
That noble-minded Titus means to thee!
TITUS.
Content thee, prince; I will restore to thee
The people’s hearts, and wean them from themselves.
BASSIANUS.
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
Of noble minds is honourable meed.
TITUS.
People of Rome, and people’s tribunes here,
I ask your voices and your suffrages:
Will you bestow them friendly on Andronicus?
TRIBUNES.
To gratify the good Andronicus,
And gratulate his safe return to Rome,
The people will accept whom he admits.