Mar. My lord,—to step out of these dreary dumps,—
How comes it that the subtle Queen of Goths 392
Is of a sudden thus advanc'd in Rome?
Tit. 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 396
That brought her for this high good turn so far?
[Mar.] Yes, and will nobly him remunerate.
Sat. So, Bassianus, you have play'd your prize:
God give you joy, sir, of your gallant bride. 400
Bas. And you of yours, my lord! I say no more,
Nor wish no less; and so I take my leave.
Sat. Traitor, if Rome have law or we have power,
Thou and thy faction shall repent this rape. 404
Bas. Rape call you it, my lord, to seize my own,
My true-betrothed love and now my wife?
But let the laws of Rome determine all;
Meanwhile, I am possess'd of that is mine. 408
Sat. 'Tis good, sir: you are very short with us;
But, if we live, we'll be as sharp with you.
Bas. My lord, what I have done, as best I may,
Answer I must and shall do with my life. 412
Only thus much I give your Grace to know:
By all the duties that I owe to Rome,
This noble gentleman, Lord Titus here,
Is in opinion and in honour wrong'd; 416
That, in the rescue of Lavinia,
391 dumps: low spirits
395 device: scheming
396 beholding: beholden
399 play'd your prize; cf. n.
416 opinion: reputation
