That we may hew his limbs, and on a pile
	Ad manes fratrum sacrifice his flesh,
	Before this earthy prison of their bones;
	That so the shadows be not unappeased,
	Nor we disturb'd with prodigies on earth.

TITUS ANDRONICUS	I give him you, the noblest that survives,
	The eldest son of this distressed queen.

TAMORA	Stay, Roman brethren! Gracious conqueror,
	Victorious Titus, rue the tears I shed,
	A mother's tears in passion for her son:
	And if thy sons were ever dear to thee,
	O, think my son to be as dear to me!
	Sufficeth not that we are brought to Rome,
	To beautify thy triumphs and return,
	Captive to thee and to thy Roman yoke,
	But must my sons be slaughter'd in the streets,
	For valiant doings in their country's cause?
	O, if to fight for king and commonweal
	Were piety in thine, it is in these.
	Andronicus, stain not thy tomb with blood:
	Wilt thou draw near the nature of the gods?
	Draw near them then in being merciful:
	Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge:
	Thrice noble Titus, spare my first-born son.

TITUS ANDRONICUS	Patient yourself, madam, and pardon me.
	These are their brethren, whom you Goths beheld
	Alive and dead, and for their brethren slain
	Religiously they ask a sacrifice:
	To this your son is mark'd, and die he must,
	To appease their groaning shadows that are gone.

LUCIUS	Away with him! and make a fire straight;
	And with our swords, upon a pile of wood,
	Let's hew his limbs till they be clean consumed.

	[Exeunt LUCIUS, QUINTUS, MARTIUS, and MUTIUS, with ALARBUS]

TAMORA	O cruel, irreligious piety!

CHIRON	Was ever Scythia half so barbarous?

DEMETRIUS	Oppose not Scythia to ambitious Rome.
	Alarbus goes to rest; and we survive
	To tremble under Titus' threatening looks.
	Then, madam, stand resolved, but hope withal
	The self-same gods that arm'd the Queen of Troy
	With opportunity of sharp revenge
	Upon the Thracian tyrant in his tent,
	May favor Tamora, the Queen of Goths--
	When Goths were Goths and Tamora was queen--
	To quit the bloody wrongs upon her foes.

	[Re-enter LUCIUS, QUINTUS, MARTIUS and MUTIUS, with
	their swords bloody]

LUCIUS	See, lord and father, how we have perform'd
	Our Roman rites: Alarbus' limbs are lopp'd,
	And entrails feed the sacrificing fire,
	Whose smoke, like incense, doth perfume the sky.
	Remaineth nought, but to inter our brethren,
	And with loud 'larums welcome them to Rome.

TITUS ANDRONICUS	Let it be so; and let Andronicus
	Make this his latest farewell to their souls.

	[Trumpets sounded, and the coffin laid in the tomb]

	In peace and honour rest you here, my sons;
	Rome's readiest champions, repose you here in rest,
	Secure from worldly chances and mishaps!
	Here lurks no treason, here no envy swells,
	Here grow no damned grudges; here are no storms,
	No noise, but silence and eternal sleep:
	In peace and honour rest you here, my sons!

	[Enter LAVINIA]

LAVINIA	In peace and honour live Lord Titus long;
	My noble lord and father, live in fame!
	Lo, at this tomb my tributary tears
	I render, for my brethren's obsequies;
	And at thy feet I kneel, with tears of joy,
	Shed on the earth, for thy return to Rome:
	O, bless me here with thy victorious hand,
	Whose fortunes Rome's best citizens applaud!

TITUS ANDRONICUS	Kind Rome, that hast thus lovingly reserved
	The cordial of mine age to glad my heart!
	Lavinia, live; outlive thy father's days,
	And fame's eternal date, for virtue's praise!

	[Enter, below, MARCUS ANDRONICUS and Tribunes;
	re-enter SATURNINUS and BASSIANUS, attended]

MARCUS ANDRONICUS	Long live Lord Titus, my beloved brother,
	Gracious triumpher in the eyes of Rome!