Thou art a Roman; be not barbarous:
The Greeks upon advice did bury Ajax
That slew himself; and wise Laertes' son
Did graciously plead for his funerals:
Let not young Mutius, then, that was thy joy
Be barr'd his entrance here.
TITUS ANDRONICUS Rise, Marcus, rise.
The dismall'st day is this that e'er I saw,
To be dishonour'd by my sons in Rome!
Well, bury him, and bury me the next.
[MUTIUS is put into the tomb]
LUCIUS There lie thy bones, sweet Mutius, with thy friends,
Till we with trophies do adorn thy tomb.
All [Kneeling] No man shed tears for noble Mutius;
He lives in fame that died in virtue's cause.
MARCUS ANDRONICUS My lord, to step out of these dreary dumps,
How comes it that the subtle Queen of Goths
Is of a sudden thus advanced in Rome?
TITUS ANDRONICUS I know not, Marcus; but I know it is,
Whether by device or no, the heavens can tell:
Is she not then beholding to the man
That brought her for this high good turn so far?
Yes, and will nobly him remunerate.
[Flourish. Re-enter, from one side, SATURNINUS
attended, TAMORA, DEMETRIUS, CHIRON and AARON; from
the other, BASSIANUS, LAVINIA, and others]
SATURNINUS So, Bassianus, you have play'd your prize:
God give you joy, sir, of your gallant bride!
BASSIANUS And you of yours, my lord! I say no more,
Nor wish no less; and so, I take my leave.
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