MAR. My lord, this is impiety in you: My nephew Mutius' deeds do plead for him; He must be buried with his brethren. QUIN. MART. And fhall, or him we will accom pany. TIT. And fhall? What villain was it spoke that word? QUIN. He that would vouch't in any place but here. 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 creft, And, with these boys, mine honour thou haft wounded: My foes I do repute you every one; So trouble me no more, but get you gone. MART. He is not with himself; let us withdraw." QUIN. Not I, till Mutius' bones be buried. [MARCUS and the Sons of TITUS kneel. MAR. Brother, for in that name doth nature plead. QUIN. Father, and in that name doth nature fpeak. TIT. Speak thou no more, if all the rest will speed. • He is not with himself; let us withdraw.] Read: He is not now himfelf RITSON. Perhaps the old reading is a mere affected imitation of Roman phrafeology. See Eneid XI. 409, though the words there are otherwife applied: habitet tecum, & fit pectore in ifsto.” MAR. Renowned Titus, more than half my foul, Luc. Dear father, foul and fubftance of us all, MAR. Suffer thy brother Marcus to interr TIT. Rife, Marcus, rife - [MUTIUS is put into the Tomb. Luc. There lie thy bones, fweet Mutius, with thy friends, Till we with trophies do adorn thy tomb! ALL. No man fhed tears for noble Mutius;2 He lives in fame that died in virtue's cause. 1 The Greeks, upon advice, did bury Ajax That flew himself; and wife Laertes' fon Did graciously plead for his funerals.] This paffage alone would fufficiently convince me, that the play before us was the work of one who was converfant with the Greek tragedies in their original language. We have here a plain allufion to the Ajax of Sophocles, of which no tranflation was extant in the time of Shakspeare. In that piece, Agamemnon confents at last to allow Ajax the rites of fepulture, and Ulyffes is the pleader, whofe arguments prevail in favour of his remains. STEEVENS. No man hed tears &c.] This is evidently a translation of the diftich of Ennius; "Nemo me lacrumeis decoret: nec funera fletu MAR. My lord,-to ftep out of these dreary dumps, How comes it, that the fubtle queen of Goths TIT. I know not, Marcus; but, I know, it is; Whether by device, or no, the heavens can tell : Is the not then beholden to the man That brought her for this high good turn so far? Yes, and will nobly him remunerate.2 Flourish. Re-enter, at one fide, SATURNINUS, at-· tended; TAMORA, CHIRON, DEMETRIUS, and AARON At the Other, BASSIANUS, LAVINIA, and Others. SAT. SO Baffianus, you have play'd your prize ;4 God give you joy, fir, of your gallant bride. BAS. And you of yours, my lord: I fay no more, Nor with no less; and fo I take my leave. power, SAT. Traitor, if Rome have law, or we have Thou and thy faction fhall repent this rape. BAS. Rape, call you it, my lord, to feize my own, My true-betrothed love, and now my wife? But let the laws of Rome determine all; Mean while I am poffefs'd of that is mine. SAT. 'Tis good, fir: You are very short with us; But, if we live, we'll be as fharp with you. 3 Yes, &c.] This line is not in the quarto. I fufpect, when it was added by the editor of the folio, he inadvertently omitted to prefix the name of the fpeaker, and that it belongs to Marcus. In the fecond line of this speech the modern editors read-If by device, &c. MALONE. -play'd your prize;] A technical term in the ancient fencing-school. See Vol. V. p. 32, n. 8. STEEVENS. BAS. My lord, what I have done, as beft I may, Answer I muft, and fhall do with my life. Only thus much I give your grace to know, With his own hand did flay his youngest fon, TIT. Prince Baffianus, leave to plead my deeds "Tis thou, and those, that have dishonour'd me: Rome and the righteous heavens be my judge, How I have lov'd and honour'd Saturnine! TAM. My worthy lord, if ever Tamora SAT. What! madam! be dishonour'd openly, And bafely put it up without revenge? TAM. Not fo, my lord; The gods of Rome forefend, I should be author to dishonour you! My lord, be rul'd by me, be won at last, queen Kneel in the streets, and beg for vain. grace in Afide. Come, come, fweet emperor,-come, Andronicus, Take up this good old man, and cheer the heart That dies in tempeft of thy angry frown. SAT. Rife, Titus, rife; my empress hath pre vail'd. TIT. I thank your majefty, and her, my lord: These words, these looks, infufe new life in me. TAM. Titus, I am incorporate in Rome, And must advise the emperor for his good. 5fupplant us-] Edition 1600:-fupplant you. TODD. |