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The Tragedie of Titus Andronicus Page: 7
Lauinia you are not displeas'd with this?
Lau. Not I my Lord, sith true Nobilitie,
Warrants these words in Princely curtesie
Sat. Thankes sweete Lauinia, Romans let vs goe:
Ransomlesse heere we set our Prisoners free,
Proclaime our Honors Lords with Trumpe and Drum
Bass. Lord Titus by your leaue, this Maid is mine
Tit. How sir? Are you in earnest then my Lord?
Bass. I Noble Titus, and resolu'd withall,
To doe my selfe this reason, and this right
Marc. Suum cuiquam, is our Romane Iustice,
This Prince in Iustice ceazeth but his owne
Luc. And that he will and shall, if Lucius liue
Tit. Traytors auant, where is the Emperours Guarde?
Treason my Lord, Lauinia is surpris'd
Sat. Surpris'd, by whom?
Bass. By him that iustly may
Beare his Betroth'd, from all the world away
Muti. Brothers helpe to conuey her hence away,
And with my Sword Ile keepe this doore safe
Tit. Follow my Lord, and Ile soone bring her backe
Mut. My Lord you passe not heere
Tit. What villaine Boy, bar'st me my way in Rome?
Mut. Helpe Lucius helpe. He kils him
Luc. My Lord you are vniust, and more then so,
In wrongfull quarrell, you haue slaine your son
Tit. Nor thou, nor he are any sonnes of mine,
My sonnes would neuer so dishonour me.
Traytor restore Lauinia to the Emperour
Luc. Dead if you will, but not to be his wife,
That is anothers lawfull promist Loue.
Enter aloft the Emperour with Tamora and her two sonnes, and
Aaron the
Moore.
Empe. No Titus, no, the Emperour needs her not,
Nor her, nor thee, nor any of thy stocke:
Ile trust by Leisure him that mocks me once.
Thee neuer: nor thy Trayterous haughty sonnes,
Confederates all, thus to dishonour me.
Was none in Rome to make a stale
But Saturnine? Full well Andronicus
Agree these Deeds, with that proud bragge of thine,
That said'st, I beg'd the Empire at thy hands
Tit. O monstrous, what reproachfull words are these?
Sat. But goe thy wayes, goe giue that changing peece,
To him that flourisht for her with his Sword:
A Valliant sonne in-law thou shalt enioy:
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