The Tragedy of Titus Andronicus. Уильям Шекспир

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        MARCUS. Long live Lord Titus, my beloved brother,

          Gracious triumpher in the eyes of Rome!

        TITUS. Thanks, gentle Tribune, noble brother Marcus.

        MARCUS. And welcome, nephews, from successful wars,

          You that survive and you that sleep in fame.

          Fair lords, your fortunes are alike in all

          That in your country's service drew your swords;

          But safer triumph is this funeral pomp

          That hath aspir'd to Solon's happiness

          And triumphs over chance in honour's bed.

          Titus Andronicus, the people of Rome,

          Whose friend in justice thou hast ever been,

          Send thee by me, their Tribune and their trust,

          This par]iament of white and spotless hue;

          And name thee in election for the empire

          With these our late-deceased Emperor's sons:

          Be candidatus then, and put it on,

          And help to set a head on headless Rome.

        TITUS. A better head her glorious body fits

          Than his that shakes for age and feebleness.

          What should I don this robe and trouble you?

          Be chosen with proclamations to-day,

          To-morrow yield up rule, resign my life,

          And set abroad new business for you all?

          Rome, I have been thy soldier forty years,

          And led my country's strength successfully,

          And buried one and twenty valiant sons,

          Knighted in field, slain manfully in arms,

          In right and service of their noble country.

          Give me a staff of honour for mine age,

          But not a sceptre to control the world.

          Upright he held it, lords, that held it last.

        MARCUS. Titus, thou shalt obtain and ask the empery.

        SATURNINUS. Proud and ambitious Tribune, canst thou tell?

        TITUS. Patience, Prince Saturninus.

        SATURNINUS. Romans, do me right.

          Patricians, draw your swords, and sheathe them not

          Till Saturninus be Rome's Emperor.

          Andronicus, would thou were shipp'd to hell

          Rather than rob me of the people's hearts!

        LUCIUS. Proud Saturnine, interrupter of the good

          That noble-minded Titus means to thee!

        TITUS. Content thee, Prince; I will restore to thee

          The people's hearts, and wean them from themselves.

        BASSIANUS. Andronicus, I do not flatter thee,

          But honour thee, and will do till I die.

          My faction if thou strengthen with thy friends,

          I will most thankful be; and thanks to men

          Of noble minds is honourable meed.

        TITUS. People of Rome, and people's Tribunes here,

          I ask your voices and your suffrages:

          Will ye bestow them friendly on Andronicus?

        TRIBUNES. To gratify the good Andronicus,

          And gratulate his safe return to Rome,

          The people will accept whom he admits.

        TITUS. Tribunes, I thank you; and this suit I make,

          That you create our Emperor's eldest son,

          Lord Saturnine; whose virtues will, I hope,

          Reflect on Rome as Titan's rays on earth,

          And ripen justice in this commonweal.

          Then, if you will elect by my advice,

          Crown him, and say 'Long live our Emperor!'

        MARCUS. With voices and applause of every sort,

          Patricians and plebeians, we create

          Lord Saturninus Rome's great Emperor;

          And say 'Long live our Emperor Saturnine!'

        SATURNINUS. Titus Andronicus, for thy favours done

          To us in our election this day

          I give thee thanks in part of thy deserts,

          And will with deeds requite thy gentleness;

          And for an onset, Titus, to advance

          Thy name and honourable family,

          Lavinia will I make my emperess,

          Rome's royal mistress, mistress of my heart,

          And in the sacred Pantheon her espouse.

          Tell me, Andronicus, doth this motion please thee?

        TITUS. It doth, my worthy lord, and in this match

          I hold me highly honoured of your Grace,

          And here in sight of Rome, to Saturnine,

          King and commander of our commonweal,

          The wide world's Emperor, do I consecrate

          My sword, my chariot, and my prisoners,

          Presents well worthy Rome's imperious lord;

          Receive them then, the tribute that I owe,

          Mine honour's ensigns humbled at thy feet.

        SATURNINUS. Thanks, noble Titus, father of my life.

          How proud I am of thee and of thy gifts

          Rome shall record; and when I do forget

          The least of these unspeakable deserts,

          Romans, forget your fealty to me.

        TITUS. [To TAMORA] Now, madam, are you prisoner to an

      emperor;

          To him that for your honour and your state

          Will use you nobly and your followers.

        SATURNINUS. [Aside] A goodly lady, trust me; of the hue

          That I would choose, were I to choose anew. -

          Clear up, fair Queen, that cloudy countenance;

          Though chance of war hath wrought this change of cheer,

          Thou com'st not to be made a scorn in Rome-

          Princely shall be thy usage every way.

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