Page 2128 - Shakespeare - Vol. 1

What, madam! be dishonoured openly,
And basely put it up without revenge?

T AMORA

Not so, my lord, the gods of Rome forfend
I should be author to dishonour you!
But on mine honour dare I undertake
For good Lord Titus’ innocence in all,
Whose fury not dissembled speaks his griefs:
Then at my suit look graciously on him;
Lose not so noble a friend on vain suppose, [440]
Nor with sour looks afflict his gentle heart.
[Aside]. My lord, be ruled by me, be won at last;
Dissemble all your griefs and discontents:
You are but newly planted in your throne;
Lest then the people, and patricians too,
Upon a just survey, take Titus’ part,
And so supplant you for ingratitude,
Which Rome reputes to be a heinous sin,
Yield at entreats, and then let me alone:
I’Il find a day to massacre them all [450]
And raze their faction and their family,
The cruel father and his traitorous sons,
To whom I suéd for my dear son’s life;
And make them know what ’tis to let a queen
Kneel in the streets and beg for grace in vain. -
Come, come, sweet emperor; come, Andronicus
Take up this good old man, and cheer the heart
That dies in tempest of thy angry frown.

SAT URNINUS

Rise, Titus, rise, my empress hath prevailed.

T IT US

I thank your majesty, and her, my lord. [460]
These words, these looks, infuse new life in me.

T AMORA

Titus, I am incorporate in Rome,
A Roman now adopted happily,