TITUS.
Marcus, even thou hast struck upon my crest,
And with these boys mine honour thou hast wounded:
My foes I do repute you every one;
So trouble me no more, but get you gone.

MARTIUS.
He is not with himself; let us withdraw.

QUINTUS.
Not I, till Mutius' bones be buried.

[MARCUS and the Sons of TITUS kneel.]

MARCUS.
Brother, for in that name doth nature plead,--

QUINTUS.
Father, and in that name doth nature speak,--

TITUS.
Speak thou no more, if all the rest will speed.

MARCUS.
Renowned Titus, more than half my soul,--

LUCIUS.
Dear father, soul and substance of us all,--