Tit. Let it be so, and let Andronicus Make this his latest farewell to their Soules.
Then Sound Trumpets, and lay the Coffins in the Tombe.
In peace and Honour rest you heere my Sonnes, Romes readiest Champions, repose you heere in rest, Secure from worldly chaunces and mishaps: Heere lurks no Treason, heere no enuie swels, Heere grow no damned grudges, heere are no stormes, No noyse, but silence and Eternall sleepe, In peace and Honour rest you heere my Sonnes. Enter Lauinia.
Laui. In peace and Honour, liue Lord Titus long, My Noble Lord and Father, liue in Fame: Loe at this Tombe my tributarie teares, I render for my Bretherens Obsequies: And at thy feete I kneele, with teares of ioy Shed on the earth for thy returne to Rome. O blesse me heere with thy victorious hand, Whose Fortune Romes best Citizens applau'd
Ti. Kind Rome, That hast thus louingly reseru'd The Cordiall of mine age to glad my hart, Lauinia liue, out-liue thy Fathers dayes: And Fames eternall date for vertues praise
Marc. Long liue Lord Titus, my beloued brother, Gracious Triumpher in the eyes of Rome
Tit. Thankes Gentle Tribune, Noble brother Marcus
Mar. And welcome Nephews from succesfull wars, You that suruiue and you that sleepe in Fame: Faire Lords your Fortunes are all alike in all, That in your Countries seruice drew your Swords. But safer Triumph is this Funerall Pompe, That hath aspir'd to Solons Happines, And Triumphs ouer chaunce in honours bed. Titus Andronicus, the people of Rome, Whose friend in iustice thou hast euer bene, Send thee by me their Tribune and their trust, This Palliament of white and spotlesse Hue, And name thee in Election for the Empire, With these our late deceased Emperours Sonnes: Be Candidatus then, and put it on, And helpe to set a head on headlesse Rome
Tit. A better head her Glorious body fits, Then his that shakes for age and feeblenesse: What should I don this Robe and trouble you, Be chosen with proclamations to day, To morrow yeeld vp rule, resigne my life, And set abroad new businesse for you all. Rome I haue bene thy Souldier forty yeares, And led my Countries strength successefully, And buried one and twenty Valiant Sonnes, Knighted in Field, slaine manfully in Armes, In right and Seruice of their Noble Countrie: Giue me a staffe of Honour for mine age, But not a Scepter to controule the world, Vpright he held it Lords, that held it last
Mar. Titus, thou shalt obtaine and aske the Emperie
Sat. Proud and ambitious Tribune can'st thou tell? Titus. Patience Prince Saturninus
Sat. Romaines do me right. Patricians draw your Swords, and sheath them not Till Saturninus be Romes Emperour: Andronicus would thou wert shipt to hell, Rather then rob me of the peoples harts
Luc. Proud Saturnine, interrupter of the good That Noble minded Titus meanes to thee
Tit. Content thee Prince, I will restore to thee The peoples harts, and weane them from themselues
Bass. Andronicus, I do not flatter thee But Honour thee, and will doe till I die: My Faction if thou strengthen with thy Friend? I will most thankefull be, and thankes to men Of Noble mindes, is Honourable Meede
Tit. People of Rome, and Noble Tribunes heere, I aske your voyces and your Suffrages, Will you bestow them friendly on Andronicus? Tribunes. To gratifie the good Andronicus, And Gratulate his safe returne to Rome, The people will accept whom he admits