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.
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.
Rest on my word, and let not discontent
Daunt all your hopes: madam, he comforts you
Can make you greater than the Queen of Goths.--
Lavinia, you are not displeas'd with this?

LAVINIA.
Not I, my lord, sith true nobility
Warrants these words in princely courtesy.

SATURNINUS.
Thanks, sweet Lavinia.--Romans, let us go:
Ransomless here we set our prisoners free:
Proclaim our honours, lords, with trump and drum.