TAMORA.
And here in sight of heaven to Rome I swear,
If Saturnine advance the Queen of Goths,
She will a handmaid be to his desires,
A loving nurse, a mother to his youth.
SATURNINUS.
Ascend, fair queen, Pantheon. Lords, accompany
Your noble emperor and his lovely bride,
Sent by the heavens for Prince Saturnine,
Whose wisdom hath her fortune conquered.
There shall we consummate our spousal rites.
[Exeunt all but Titus.]
TITUS.
I am not bid to wait upon this bride.
Titus, when wert thou wont to walk alone,
Dishonoured thus, and challenged of wrongs?
Re-enter Marcus, Lucius, Quintus and Martius.
MARCUS.
O Titus, see, O, see what thou hast done!
In a bad quarrel slain a virtuous son.
TITUS.
No, foolish tribune, no; no son of mine,
Nor thou, nor these, confederates in the deed
That hath dishonoured all our family.
Unworthy brother and unworthy sons!
LUCIUS.
But let us give him burial, as becomes;
Give Mutius burial with our brethren.
TITUS.
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
Repose in fame; none basely slain in brawls.
Bury him where you can, he comes not here.
MARCUS.
My lord, this is impiety in you.
My nephew Mutius’ deeds do plead for him;
He must be buried with his brethren.