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Titus Andronicus
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by William Shakespeare
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Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine
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with Michael Poston and Rebecca Niles
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Folger Shakespeare Library
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https://shakespeare.folger.edu/shakespeares-works/titus-andronicus/
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Created on Jul 31, 2015, from FDT version 0.9.2
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Characters in the Play
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======================
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TITUS ANDRONICUS, a noble Roman general
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LAVINIA, his daughter
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His sons:
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LUCIUS
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MUTIUS
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MARTIUS
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QUINTUS
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YOUNG LUCIUS, his grandson
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MARCUS ANDRONICUS, Titus's brother, a Roman tribune
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PUBLIUS, his son
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Titus's kinsmen:
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SEMPRONIUS
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CAIUS
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VALENTINE
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SATURNINUS, elder son of the former Roman emperor, later emperor
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BASSIANUS, younger son of the former emperor
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TAMORA, Queen of the Goths, later empress
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AARON the Moor, Tamora's lover
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Tamora's sons:
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ALARBUS
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DEMETRIUS
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CHIRON
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AEMILIUS, A Roman nobleman
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MESSENGER
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NURSE
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A Roman CAPTAIN
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COUNTRY FELLOW
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FIRST GOTH
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SECOND GOTH
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Tribunes, Senators, Romans, Goths, Drummers, Trumpeters, Soldiers, Guards, Attendants, a black Child
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ACT 1
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=====
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Scene 1
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=======
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[Flourish. Enter the Tribunes (including Marcus
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Andronicus) and Senators aloft. And then enter, below,
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Saturninus and his followers at one door, and
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Bassianus and his followers at another door, with
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other Romans, Drums, and Trumpets.]
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SATURNINUS
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Noble patricians, patrons of my right,
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Defend the justice of my cause with arms.
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And countrymen, my loving followers,
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Plead my successive title with your swords.
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I am his firstborn son that was the last
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That wore the imperial diadem of Rome.
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Then let my father's honors live in me,
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Nor wrong mine age with this indignity.
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BASSIANUS
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Romans, friends, followers, favorers of my right,
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If ever Bassianus, Caesar's son,
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Were gracious in the eyes of royal Rome,
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Keep, then, this passage to the Capitol,
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And suffer not dishonor to approach
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The imperial seat, to virtue consecrate,
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To justice, continence, and nobility;
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But let desert in pure election shine,
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And, Romans, fight for freedom in your choice.
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MARCUS, [aloft, stepping forward and holding up the
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crown]
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Princes that strive by factions and by friends
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Ambitiously for rule and empery,
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Know that the people of Rome, for whom we stand
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A special party, have by common voice,
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In election for the Roman empery,
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Chosen Andronicus, surnamed Pius
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For many good and great deserts to Rome.
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A nobler man, a braver warrior,
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Lives not this day within the city walls.
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He by the Senate is accited home
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From weary wars against the barbarous Goths,
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That with his sons, a terror to our foes,
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Hath yoked a nation strong, trained up in arms.
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Ten years are spent since first he undertook
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This cause of Rome, and chastised with arms
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Our enemies' pride. Five times he hath returned
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Bleeding to Rome, bearing his valiant sons
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In coffins from the field.
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And now at last, laden with honor's spoils,
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Returns the good Andronicus to Rome,
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Renowned Titus flourishing in arms.
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Let us entreat, by honor of his name
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Whom worthily you would have now succeed,
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And in the Capitol and Senate's right,
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Whom you pretend to honor and adore,
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That you withdraw you and abate your strength,
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Dismiss your followers and, as suitors should,
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Plead your deserts in peace and humbleness.
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SATURNINUS
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How fair the tribune speaks to calm my thoughts!
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BASSIANUS
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Marcus Andronicus, so I do affy
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In thy uprightness and integrity,
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And so I love and honor thee and thine,
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Thy noble brother Titus and his sons,
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And her to whom my thoughts are humbled all,
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Gracious Lavinia, Rome's rich ornament,
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That I will here dismiss my loving friends,
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And to my fortunes and the people's favor
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Commit my cause in balance to be weighed.
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[Bassianus' Soldiers exit.]
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SATURNINUS
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Friends that have been thus forward in my right,
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I thank you all and here dismiss you all,
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And to the love and favor of my country
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Commit myself, my person, and the cause.
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[Saturninus' Soldiers exit.]
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Rome, be as just and gracious unto me
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As I am confident and kind to thee.
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Open the gates and let me in.
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BASSIANUS
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Tribunes, and me, a poor competitor.
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[Flourish. They exit to go up into the Senate House.
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The Tribunes and Senators exit from the upper stage.]
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[Enter a Captain.]
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CAPTAIN
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Romans, make way! The good Andronicus,
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Patron of virtue, Rome's best champion,
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Successful in the battles that he fights,
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With honor and with fortune is returned
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From where he circumscribed with his sword
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And brought to yoke the enemies of Rome.
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[Sound drums and trumpets, and then enter two of Titus'
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sons (Lucius and Mutius) and then two men bearing a
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coffin covered with black, then two other sons (Martius
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and Quintus), then Titus Andronicus, and then Tamora
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the Queen of Goths and her sons Alarbus, Chiron and
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Demetrius, with Aaron the Moor, and others as many as
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can be, then set down the coffin, and Titus speaks.]
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TITUS
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Hail Rome, victorious in thy mourning weeds!
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Lo, as the bark that hath discharged his fraught
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Returns with precious lading to the bay
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From whence at first she weighed her anchorage,
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Cometh Andronicus, bound with laurel boughs,
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To resalute his country with his tears,
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Tears of true joy for his return to Rome.
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Thou great defender of this Capitol,
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Stand gracious to the rites that we intend.
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Romans, of five-and-twenty valiant sons,
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Half of the number that King Priam had,
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Behold the poor remains alive and dead.
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These that survive let Rome reward with love;
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These that I bring unto their latest home,
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With burial amongst their ancestors.
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Here Goths have given me leave to sheathe my sword.
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Titus, unkind and careless of thine own,
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Why suffer'st thou thy sons unburied yet
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To hover on the dreadful shore of Styx?
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Make way to lay them by their brethren.
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[They open the tomb.]
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There greet in silence, as the dead are wont,
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And sleep in peace, slain in your country's wars.
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O sacred receptacle of my joys,
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Sweet cell of virtue and nobility,
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How many sons hast thou of mine in store
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That thou wilt never render to me more?
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LUCIUS
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Give us the proudest prisoner of the Goths,
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That we may hew his limbs and on a pile,
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Ad manes fratrum, sacrifice his flesh
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Before this earthy prison of their bones,
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That so the shadows be not unappeased,
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Nor we disturbed with prodigies on Earth.
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TITUS
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I give him you, the noblest that survives,
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The eldest son of this distressed queen.
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TAMORA
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Stay, Roman brethren!--Gracious conqueror,
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Victorious Titus, rue the tears I shed,
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A mother's tears in passion for her son.
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And if thy sons were ever dear to thee,
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O think my son to be as dear to me.
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Sufficeth not that we are brought to Rome
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To beautify thy triumphs and return
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Captive to thee and to thy Roman yoke,
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But must my sons be slaughtered in the streets
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For valiant doings in their country's cause?
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O, if to fight for king and commonweal
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Were piety in thine, it is in these!
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[She kneels.]
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Andronicus, stain not thy tomb with blood.
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Wilt thou draw near the nature of the gods?
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Draw near them then in being merciful.
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Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge.
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Thrice-noble Titus, spare my first-born son.
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TITUS
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Patient yourself, madam, and pardon me.
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These are their brethren whom your Goths beheld
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Alive and dead, and for their brethren slain
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Religiously they ask a sacrifice.
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To this your son is marked, and die he must,
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T' appease their groaning shadows that are gone.
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LUCIUS
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Away with him, and make a fire straight,
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And with our swords upon a pile of wood
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Let's hew his limbs till they be clean consumed.
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[Exit Titus' sons with Alarbus.]
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TAMORA, [rising and speaking aside to her sons]
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O cruel, irreligious piety!
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CHIRON, [aside to Tamora and Demetrius]
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Was never Scythia half so barbarous!
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DEMETRIUS, [aside to Tamora and Chiron]
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Oppose not Scythia to ambitious Rome!
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Alarbus goes to rest and we survive
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To tremble under Titus' threat'ning look.
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Then, madam, stand resolved, but hope withal
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The selfsame gods that armed the Queen of Troy
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With opportunity of sharp revenge
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Upon the Thracian tyrant in his tent
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May favor Tamora the Queen of Goths
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(When Goths were Goths, and Tamora was queen)
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To quit the bloody wrongs upon her foes.
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[Enter the sons of Andronicus again with bloody swords.]
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LUCIUS
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See, lord and father, how we have performed
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Our Roman rites. Alarbus' limbs are lopped,
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And entrails feed the sacrificing fire,
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Whose smoke like incense doth perfume the sky.
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Remaineth naught but to inter our brethren,
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And with loud larums welcome them to Rome.
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TITUS
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Let it be so. And let Andronicus
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Make this his latest farewell to their souls.
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[Sound trumpets, and lay the coffin in the tomb.]
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In peace and honor rest you here, my sons,
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Rome's readiest champions, repose you here in rest,
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Secure from worldly chances and mishaps.
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Here lurks no treason, here no envy swells,
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Here grow no damned drugs; here are no storms,
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No noise, but silence and eternal sleep.
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In peace and honor rest you here, my sons.
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[Enter Lavinia.]
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LAVINIA
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In peace and honor live Lord Titus long;
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My noble lord and father, live in fame.
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[She kneels.]
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Lo, at this tomb my tributary tears
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I render for my brethren's obsequies,
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And at thy feet I kneel, with tears of joy
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Shed on this earth for thy return to Rome.
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O bless me here with thy victorious hand,
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Whose fortunes Rome's best citizens applaud.
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TITUS
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Kind Rome, that hast thus lovingly reserved
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The cordial of mine age to glad my heart!--
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Lavinia, live, outlive thy father's days
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And fame's eternal date, for virtue's praise.
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[Lavinia rises.]
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[Enter Marcus Andronicus, carrying a white robe.
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Enter aloft Saturninus, Bassianus, Tribunes, Senators,
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and Guards.]
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MARCUS
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Long live Lord Titus, my beloved brother,
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Gracious triumpher in the eyes of Rome.
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TITUS
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Thanks, gentle tribune, noble brother Marcus.
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MARCUS
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And welcome, nephews, from successful wars--
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You that survive, and you that sleep in fame.
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Fair lords, your fortunes are alike in all,
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That in your country's service drew your swords;
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But safer triumph is this funeral pomp,
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That hath aspired to Solon's happiness,
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And triumphs over chance in honor's bed.--
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Titus Andronicus, the people of Rome,
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Whose friend in justice thou hast ever been,
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Send thee by me, their tribune and their trust,
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This palliament of white and spotless hue,
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And name thee in election for the empire
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With these our late deceased emperor's sons.
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Be candidatus, then, and put it on
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And help to set a head on headless Rome.
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TITUS
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A better head her glorious body fits
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Than his that shakes for age and feebleness.
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[To Tribunes and Senators aloft.] What, should I don
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this robe and trouble you?
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Be chosen with proclamations today,
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Tomorrow yield up rule, resign my life,
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And set abroad new business for you all?
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Rome, I have been thy soldier forty years,
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And led my country's strength successfully,
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And buried one and twenty valiant sons,
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Knighted in field, slain manfully in arms,
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In right and service of their noble country.
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Give me a staff of honor for mine age,
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But not a scepter to control the world.
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Upright he held it, lords, that held it last.
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MARCUS
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Titus, thou shalt obtain and ask the empery.
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SATURNINUS
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Proud and ambitious tribune, canst thou tell?
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TITUS Patience, Prince Saturninus.
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SATURNINUS Romans, do me right.
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Patricians, draw your swords and sheathe them not
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Till Saturninus be Rome's emperor.--
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Andronicus, would thou were shipped to hell
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Rather than rob me of the people's hearts.
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LUCIUS
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Proud Saturnine, interrupter of the good
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That noble-minded Titus means to thee.
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TITUS
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Content thee, prince. I will restore to thee
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The people's hearts and wean them from themselves.
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BASSIANUS
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Andronicus, I do not flatter thee,
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But honor thee, and will do till I die.
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My faction if thou strengthen with thy friends,
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I will most thankful be, and thanks, to men
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Of noble minds, is honorable meed.
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TITUS
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People of Rome, and people's tribunes here,
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I ask your voices and your suffrages.
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Will you bestow them friendly on Andronicus?
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TRIBUNES
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To gratify the good Andronicus
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And gratulate his safe return to Rome,
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The people will accept whom he admits.
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TITUS
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Tribunes, I thank you, and this suit I make:
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That you create our emperor's eldest son,
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Lord Saturnine, whose virtues will, I hope,
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Reflect on Rome as Titan's rays on Earth
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And ripen justice in this commonweal.
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Then, if you will elect by my advice,
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Crown him and say "Long live our emperor."
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MARCUS
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With voices and applause of every sort,
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Patricians and plebeians, we create
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Lord Saturninus Rome's great emperor,
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And say "Long live our Emperor Saturnine."
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[A long flourish till Saturninus, Bassianus,
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and Guards come down.]
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SATURNINUS
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Titus Andronicus, for thy favors done
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To us in our election this day,
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I give thee thanks in part of thy deserts,
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And will with deeds requite thy gentleness.
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And for an onset, Titus, to advance
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Thy name and honorable family,
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Lavinia will I make my empress,
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Rome's royal mistress, mistress of my heart,
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And in the sacred Pantheon her espouse.
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Tell me, Andronicus, doth this motion please thee?
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TITUS
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It doth, my worthy lord, and in this match
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I hold me highly honored of your Grace;
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And here in sight of Rome to Saturnine,
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King and commander of our commonweal,
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The wide world's emperor, do I consecrate
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My sword, my chariot, and my prisoners,
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Presents well worthy Rome's imperious lord.
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Receive them, then, the tribute that I owe,
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Mine honor's ensigns humbled at thy feet.
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SATURNINUS
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Thanks, noble Titus, father of my life.
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How proud I am of thee and of thy gifts
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Rome shall record.--And when I do forget
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The least of these unspeakable deserts,
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Romans, forget your fealty to me.
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TITUS, [to Tamora]
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Now, madam, are you prisoner to an emperor,
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To him that for your honor and your state
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Will use you nobly, and your followers.
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SATURNINUS, [aside]
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A goodly lady, trust me, of the hue
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That I would choose, were I to choose anew.--
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Clear up, fair queen, that cloudy countenance.
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Though chance of war hath wrought this change
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of cheer,
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Thou com'st not to be made a scorn in Rome.
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Princely shall be thy usage every way.
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Rest on my word, and let not discontent
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Daunt all your hopes. Madam, he comforts you
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Can make you greater than the Queen of Goths.--
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Lavinia, you are not displeased with this?
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LAVINIA
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Not I, my lord, sith true nobility
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Warrants these words in princely courtesy.
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SATURNINUS
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Thanks, sweet Lavinia.--Romans, let us go.
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Ransomless here we set our prisoners free.
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Proclaim our honors, lords, with trump and drum.
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[Flourish. Saturninus and his Guards exit, with Drums
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and Trumpets. Tribunes and Senators exit aloft.]
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BASSIANUS
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Lord Titus, by your leave, this maid is mine.
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TITUS
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How, sir? Are you in earnest then, my lord?
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BASSIANUS
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Ay, noble Titus, and resolved withal
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To do myself this reason and this right.
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[Bassianus takes Lavinia by the arm.]
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MARCUS
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Suum cuique is our Roman justice.
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This prince in justice seizeth but his own.
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LUCIUS
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And that he will and shall, if Lucius live!
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TITUS
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Traitors, avaunt! Where is the Emperor's guard?
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[Enter Saturninus and his Guards.]
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Treason, my lord. Lavinia is surprised.
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SATURNINUS
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Surprised? By whom?
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BASSIANUS By him that justly may
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Bear his betrothed from all the world away.
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MUTIUS
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Brothers, help to convey her hence away,
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And with my sword I'll keep this door safe.
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[Bassianus, Lavinia, Marcus, Lucius,
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Quintus, and Martius exit.]
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TITUS, [to Saturninus]
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Follow, my lord, and I'll soon bring her back.
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[Saturninus, Tamora, Demetrius, Chiron,
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Aaron, and Guards exit.]
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MUTIUS
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My lord, you pass not here.
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TITUS What, villain boy,
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Barr'st me my way in Rome?
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[He stabs Mutius.]
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MUTIUS Help, Lucius, help!
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[Mutius dies.]
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[Enter Lucius.]
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LUCIUS
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My lord, you are unjust, and more than so!
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In wrongful quarrel you have slain your son.
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TITUS
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Nor thou nor he are any sons of mine.
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My sons would never so dishonor me.
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Traitor, restore Lavinia to the Emperor.
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[Enter aloft the Emperor Saturninus with Tamora
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and her two sons and Aaron the Moor.]
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LUCIUS
|
|
Dead if you will, but not to be his wife
|
|
That is another's lawful promised love. [He exits.]
|
|
|
|
SATURNINUS
|
|
No, Titus, no, the Emperor needs her not,
|
|
Nor her, nor thee, nor any of thy stock.
|
|
I'll trust by leisure him that mocks me once,
|
|
Thee never, nor thy traitorous haughty sons,
|
|
Confederates all thus to dishonor me.
|
|
Was none in Rome to make a stale
|
|
But Saturnine? Full well, Andronicus,
|
|
Agree these deeds with that proud brag of thine
|
|
That said'st I begged the empire at thy hands.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
O monstrous! What reproachful words are these?
|
|
|
|
SATURNINUS
|
|
But go thy ways. Go give that changing piece
|
|
To him that flourished for her with his sword.
|
|
A valiant son-in-law thou shalt enjoy,
|
|
One fit to bandy with thy lawless sons,
|
|
To ruffle in the commonwealth of Rome.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
These words are razors to my wounded heart.
|
|
|
|
SATURNINUS
|
|
And therefore, lovely Tamora, Queen of Goths,
|
|
That like the stately Phoebe 'mongst her nymphs
|
|
Dost overshine the gallant'st dames of Rome,
|
|
If thou be pleased with this my sudden choice,
|
|
Behold, I choose thee, Tamora, for my bride,
|
|
And will create thee Emperess of Rome.
|
|
Speak, Queen of Goths, dost thou applaud my
|
|
choice?
|
|
And here I swear by all the Roman gods,
|
|
Sith priest and holy water are so near,
|
|
And tapers burn so bright, and everything
|
|
In readiness for Hymenaeus stand,
|
|
I will not resalute the streets of Rome
|
|
Or climb my palace till from forth this place
|
|
I lead espoused my bride along with me.
|
|
|
|
TAMORA
|
|
And here in sight of heaven to Rome I swear,
|
|
If Saturnine advance the Queen of Goths,
|
|
She will a handmaid be to his desires,
|
|
A loving nurse, a mother to his youth.
|
|
|
|
SATURNINUS
|
|
Ascend, fair queen, to Pantheon.--Lords, accompany
|
|
Your noble emperor and his lovely bride,
|
|
Sent by the heavens for Prince Saturnine,
|
|
Whose wisdom hath her fortune conquered.
|
|
There shall we consummate our spousal rites.
|
|
[All but Titus exit.]
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
I am not bid to wait upon this bride.
|
|
Titus, when wert thou wont to walk alone,
|
|
Dishonored thus and challenged of wrongs?
|
|
|
|
[Enter Marcus and Titus' sons Lucius, Martius,
|
|
and Quintus.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
O Titus, see! O, see what thou hast done!
|
|
In a bad quarrel slain a virtuous son.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
No, foolish tribune, no; no son of mine,
|
|
Nor thou, nor these confederates in the deed
|
|
That hath dishonored all our family.
|
|
Unworthy brother and unworthy sons!
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS
|
|
But let us give him burial as becomes,
|
|
Give Mutius burial with our brethren.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
Traitors, away! He rests not in this tomb.
|
|
This monument five hundred years hath stood,
|
|
Which I have sumptuously reedified.
|
|
Here none but soldiers and Rome's servitors
|
|
Repose in fame, none basely slain in brawls.
|
|
Bury him where you can. He comes not here.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
My lord, this is impiety in you.
|
|
My nephew Mutius' deeds do plead for him.
|
|
He must be buried with his brethren.
|
|
|
|
MARTIUS
|
|
And shall, or him we will accompany.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
"And shall"? What villain was it spake that word?
|
|
|
|
MARTIUS
|
|
He that would vouch it in any place but here.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
What, would you bury him in my despite?
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
No, noble Titus, but entreat of thee
|
|
To pardon Mutius and to bury him.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
Marcus, even thou hast struck upon my crest,
|
|
And with these boys mine honor thou hast wounded.
|
|
My foes I do repute you every one.
|
|
So trouble me no more, but get you gone.
|
|
|
|
QUINTUS
|
|
He is not with himself; let us withdraw.
|
|
|
|
MARTIUS
|
|
Not I, till Mutius' bones be buried.
|
|
[The brother (Marcus) and the sons
|
|
(Lucius, Martius, and Quintus) kneel.]
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
Brother, for in that name doth nature plead--
|
|
|
|
MARTIUS
|
|
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--
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
Suffer thy brother Marcus to inter
|
|
His noble nephew here in virtue's nest,
|
|
That died in honor and Lavinia's cause.
|
|
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 barred his entrance here.
|
|
|
|
TITUS Rise, Marcus, rise.
|
|
[They rise.]
|
|
The dismall'st day is this that e'er I saw,
|
|
To be dishonored by my sons in Rome.
|
|
Well, bury him, and bury me the next.
|
|
[They put Mutius in the tomb.]
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS
|
|
There lie thy bones, sweet Mutius, with thy friends',
|
|
Till we with trophies do adorn thy tomb.
|
|
[They all except Titus kneel and say:]
|
|
|
|
No man shed tears for noble Mutius.
|
|
He lives in fame, that died in virtue's cause.
|
|
[All but Marcus and Titus exit.]
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
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
|
|
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. Enter the Emperor Saturninus, Tamora
|
|
and her two sons, with Aaron the Moor, Drums and
|
|
Trumpets, at one door. Enter at the other door
|
|
Bassianus and Lavinia, with Lucius, Martius, and
|
|
Quintus, and others.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
SATURNINUS
|
|
So, Bassianus, you have played 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.
|
|
|
|
SATURNINUS
|
|
Traitor, if Rome have law or we have power,
|
|
Thou and thy faction shall repent this rape.
|
|
|
|
BASSIANUS
|
|
"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 am I possessed of that is mine.
|
|
|
|
SATURNINUS
|
|
'Tis good, sir, you are very short with us.
|
|
But if we live, we'll be as sharp with you.
|
|
|
|
BASSIANUS
|
|
My lord, what I have done, as best I may,
|
|
Answer I must, and shall do with my life.
|
|
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 honor wronged,
|
|
That in the rescue of Lavinia
|
|
With his own hand did slay his youngest son,
|
|
In zeal to you, and highly moved to wrath
|
|
To be controlled in that he frankly gave.
|
|
Receive him then to favor, Saturnine,
|
|
That hath expressed himself in all his deeds
|
|
A father and a friend to thee and Rome.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
Prince Bassianus, leave to plead my deeds.
|
|
'Tis thou, and those, that have dishonored me.
|
|
Rome and the righteous heavens be my judge
|
|
How I have loved and honored Saturnine. [He kneels.]
|
|
|
|
TAMORA, [to Saturninus]
|
|
My worthy lord, if ever Tamora
|
|
Were gracious in those princely eyes of thine,
|
|
Then hear me speak indifferently for all,
|
|
And at my suit, sweet, pardon what is past.
|
|
|
|
SATURNINUS
|
|
What, madam, be dishonored openly,
|
|
And basely put it up without revenge?
|
|
|
|
TAMORA
|
|
Not so, my lord; the gods of Rome forfend
|
|
I should be author to dishonor you.
|
|
But on mine honor dare I undertake
|
|
For good Lord Titus' innocence in all,
|
|
Whose fury not dissembled speaks his griefs.
|
|
Then at my suit look graciously on him.
|
|
Lose not so noble a friend on vain suppose,
|
|
Nor with sour looks afflict his gentle heart.
|
|
[Aside to Saturninus.] My lord, be ruled by me; be
|
|
won at last.
|
|
Dissemble all your griefs and discontents.
|
|
You are but newly planted in your throne.
|
|
Lest, then, the people, and patricians too,
|
|
Upon a just survey take Titus' part
|
|
And so supplant you for ingratitude,
|
|
Which Rome reputes to be a heinous sin.
|
|
Yield at entreats, and then let me alone.
|
|
I'll find a day to massacre them all
|
|
And raze their faction and their family,
|
|
The cruel father and his traitorous sons,
|
|
To whom I sued for my dear son's life,
|
|
And make them know what 'tis to let a queen
|
|
Kneel in the streets and beg for grace in vain.
|
|
[Aloud.] Come, come, sweet emperor.--Come,
|
|
Andronicus.--
|
|
Take up this good old man, and cheer the heart
|
|
That dies in tempest of thy angry frown.
|
|
|
|
SATURNINUS
|
|
Rise, Titus, rise. My empress hath prevailed.
|
|
|
|
TITUS, [rising]
|
|
I thank your Majesty and her, my lord.
|
|
These words, these looks, infuse new life in me.
|
|
|
|
TAMORA
|
|
Titus, I am incorporate in Rome,
|
|
A Roman now adopted happily,
|
|
And must advise the Emperor for his good.
|
|
This day all quarrels die, Andronicus.--
|
|
And let it be mine honor, good my lord,
|
|
That I have reconciled your friends and you.--
|
|
For you, Prince Bassianus, I have passed
|
|
My word and promise to the Emperor
|
|
That you will be more mild and tractable.--
|
|
And fear not, lords--and you, Lavinia.
|
|
By my advice, all humbled on your knees,
|
|
You shall ask pardon of his Majesty.
|
|
[Marcus, Lavinia, Lucius, Martius, and Quintus kneel.]
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS
|
|
We do, and vow to heaven and to his Highness
|
|
That what we did was mildly as we might,
|
|
Tend'ring our sister's honor and our own.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
That on mine honor here do I protest.
|
|
|
|
SATURNINUS
|
|
Away, and talk not; trouble us no more.
|
|
|
|
TAMORA
|
|
Nay, nay, sweet emperor, we must all be friends.
|
|
The tribune and his nephews kneel for grace.
|
|
I will not be denied. Sweetheart, look back.
|
|
|
|
SATURNINUS
|
|
Marcus, for thy sake, and thy brother's here,
|
|
And at my lovely Tamora's entreats,
|
|
I do remit these young men's heinous faults.
|
|
Stand up. [They rise.]
|
|
Lavinia, though you left me like a churl,
|
|
I found a friend, and sure as death I swore
|
|
I would not part a bachelor from the priest.
|
|
Come, if the Emperor's court can feast two brides,
|
|
You are my guest, Lavinia, and your friends.--
|
|
This day shall be a love-day, Tamora.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
Tomorrow, an it please your Majesty
|
|
To hunt the panther and the hart with me,
|
|
With horn and hound we'll give your Grace bonjour.
|
|
|
|
SATURNINUS
|
|
Be it so, Titus, and gramercy too.
|
|
[Sound trumpets. All but Aaron exit.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
ACT 2
|
|
=====
|
|
|
|
Scene 1
|
|
=======
|
|
|
|
AARON
|
|
Now climbeth Tamora Olympus' top,
|
|
Safe out of Fortune's shot, and sits aloft,
|
|
Secure of thunder's crack or lightning flash,
|
|
Advanced above pale Envy's threat'ning reach.
|
|
As when the golden sun salutes the morn
|
|
And, having gilt the ocean with his beams,
|
|
Gallops the zodiac in his glistering coach
|
|
And overlooks the highest-peering hills,
|
|
So Tamora.
|
|
Upon her wit doth earthly honor wait,
|
|
And virtue stoops and trembles at her frown.
|
|
Then, Aaron, arm thy heart and fit thy thoughts
|
|
To mount aloft with thy imperial mistress,
|
|
And mount her pitch whom thou in triumph long
|
|
Hast prisoner held, fettered in amorous chains
|
|
And faster bound to Aaron's charming eyes
|
|
Than is Prometheus tied to Caucasus.
|
|
Away with slavish weeds and servile thoughts!
|
|
I will be bright, and shine in pearl and gold
|
|
To wait upon this new-made emperess.
|
|
To wait, said I? To wanton with this queen,
|
|
This goddess, this Semiramis, this nymph,
|
|
This siren that will charm Rome's Saturnine
|
|
And see his shipwrack and his commonweal's.
|
|
Holla! What storm is this?
|
|
|
|
[Enter Chiron and Demetrius, braving.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS
|
|
Chiron, thy years wants wit, thy wits wants edge
|
|
And manners, to intrude where I am graced,
|
|
And may, for aught thou knowest, affected be.
|
|
|
|
CHIRON
|
|
Demetrius, thou dost overween in all,
|
|
And so in this, to bear me down with braves.
|
|
'Tis not the difference of a year or two
|
|
Makes me less gracious or thee more fortunate.
|
|
I am as able and as fit as thou
|
|
To serve and to deserve my mistress' grace,
|
|
And that my sword upon thee shall approve
|
|
And plead my passions for Lavinia's love.
|
|
|
|
AARON, [aside]
|
|
Clubs, clubs! These lovers will not keep the peace.
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS, [to Chiron]
|
|
Why, boy, although our mother, unadvised,
|
|
Gave you a dancing rapier by your side,
|
|
Are you so desperate grown to threat your friends?
|
|
Go to. Have your lath glued within your sheath
|
|
Till you know better how to handle it.
|
|
|
|
CHIRON
|
|
Meanwhile, sir, with the little skill I have,
|
|
Full well shalt thou perceive how much I dare.
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS
|
|
Ay, boy, grow you so brave? [They draw.]
|
|
|
|
AARON Why, how now, lords?
|
|
So near the Emperor's palace dare you draw
|
|
And maintain such a quarrel openly?
|
|
Full well I wot the ground of all this grudge.
|
|
I would not for a million of gold
|
|
The cause were known to them it most concerns,
|
|
Nor would your noble mother for much more
|
|
Be so dishonored in the court of Rome.
|
|
For shame, put up.
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS Not I, till I have sheathed
|
|
My rapier in his bosom, and withal
|
|
Thrust those reproachful speeches down his throat
|
|
That he hath breathed in my dishonor here.
|
|
|
|
CHIRON
|
|
For that I am prepared and full resolved,
|
|
Foul-spoken coward, that thund'rest with thy tongue
|
|
And with thy weapon nothing dar'st perform.
|
|
|
|
AARON Away, I say!
|
|
Now by the gods that warlike Goths adore,
|
|
This petty brabble will undo us all.
|
|
Why, lords, and think you not how dangerous
|
|
It is to jet upon a prince's right?
|
|
What, is Lavinia then become so loose
|
|
Or Bassianus so degenerate
|
|
That for her love such quarrels may be broached
|
|
Without controlment, justice, or revenge?
|
|
Young lords, beware! And should the Empress know
|
|
This discord's ground, the music would not please.
|
|
|
|
CHIRON
|
|
I care not, I, knew she and all the world.
|
|
I love Lavinia more than all the world.
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS
|
|
Youngling, learn thou to make some meaner choice.
|
|
Lavinia is thine elder brother's hope.
|
|
|
|
AARON
|
|
Why, are you mad? Or know you not in Rome
|
|
How furious and impatient they be,
|
|
And cannot brook competitors in love?
|
|
I tell you, lords, you do but plot your deaths
|
|
By this device.
|
|
|
|
CHIRON Aaron, a thousand deaths
|
|
Would I propose to achieve her whom I love.
|
|
|
|
AARON
|
|
To achieve her how?
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS Why makes thou it so strange?
|
|
She is a woman, therefore may be wooed;
|
|
She is a woman, therefore may be won;
|
|
She is Lavinia, therefore must be loved.
|
|
What, man, more water glideth by the mill
|
|
Than wots the miller of, and easy it is
|
|
Of a cut loaf to steal a shive, we know.
|
|
Though Bassianus be the Emperor's brother,
|
|
Better than he have worn Vulcan's badge.
|
|
|
|
AARON, [aside]
|
|
Ay, and as good as Saturninus may.
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS
|
|
Then why should he despair that knows to court it
|
|
With words, fair looks, and liberality?
|
|
What, hast not thou full often struck a doe
|
|
And borne her cleanly by the keeper's nose?
|
|
|
|
AARON
|
|
Why, then, it seems some certain snatch or so
|
|
Would serve your turns.
|
|
|
|
CHIRON Ay, so the turn were served.
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS Aaron, thou hast hit it.
|
|
|
|
AARON Would you had hit it too!
|
|
Then should not we be tired with this ado.
|
|
Why, hark you, hark you! And are you such fools
|
|
To square for this? Would it offend you then
|
|
That both should speed?
|
|
|
|
CHIRON
|
|
Faith, not me.
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS Nor me, so I were one.
|
|
|
|
AARON
|
|
For shame, be friends, and join for that you jar.
|
|
'Tis policy and stratagem must do
|
|
That you affect, and so must you resolve
|
|
That what you cannot as you would achieve,
|
|
You must perforce accomplish as you may.
|
|
Take this of me: Lucrece was not more chaste
|
|
Than this Lavinia, Bassianus' love.
|
|
A speedier course than ling'ring languishment
|
|
Must we pursue, and I have found the path.
|
|
My lords, a solemn hunting is in hand;
|
|
There will the lovely Roman ladies troop.
|
|
The forest walks are wide and spacious,
|
|
And many unfrequented plots there are,
|
|
Fitted by kind for rape and villainy.
|
|
Single you thither then this dainty doe,
|
|
And strike her home by force, if not by words.
|
|
This way, or not at all, stand you in hope.
|
|
Come, come, our empress, with her sacred wit
|
|
To villainy and vengeance consecrate,
|
|
Will we acquaint withal what we intend,
|
|
And she shall file our engines with advice
|
|
That will not suffer you to square yourselves,
|
|
But to your wishes' height advance you both.
|
|
The Emperor's court is like the house of Fame,
|
|
The palace full of tongues, of eyes, and ears;
|
|
The woods are ruthless, dreadful, deaf, and dull.
|
|
There speak and strike, brave boys, and take your
|
|
turns.
|
|
There serve your lust, shadowed from heaven's eye,
|
|
And revel in Lavinia's treasury.
|
|
|
|
CHIRON
|
|
Thy counsel, lad, smells of no cowardice.
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS
|
|
Sit fas aut nefas, till I find the stream
|
|
To cool this heat, a charm to calm these fits,
|
|
Per Stygia, per manes vehor.
|
|
[They exit.]
|
|
|
|
Scene 2
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter Titus Andronicus and his three sons, and
|
|
Marcus, making a noise with hounds and horns.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
The hunt is up, the moon is bright and gray,
|
|
The fields are fragrant, and the woods are green.
|
|
Uncouple here, and let us make a bay
|
|
And wake the Emperor and his lovely bride,
|
|
And rouse the Prince, and ring a hunter's peal,
|
|
That all the court may echo with the noise.
|
|
Sons, let it be your charge, as it is ours,
|
|
To attend the Emperor's person carefully.
|
|
I have been troubled in my sleep this night,
|
|
But dawning day new comfort hath inspired.
|
|
|
|
[Here a cry of hounds, and wind horns in a peal. Then
|
|
enter Saturninus, Tamora, Bassianus, Lavinia, Chiron,
|
|
Demetrius, and their Attendants.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
Many good morrows to your Majesty;--
|
|
Madam, to you as many, and as good.--
|
|
I promised your Grace a hunter's peal.
|
|
|
|
SATURNINUS
|
|
And you have rung it lustily, my lords--
|
|
Somewhat too early for new-married ladies.
|
|
|
|
BASSIANUS
|
|
Lavinia, how say you?
|
|
|
|
LAVINIA I say no.
|
|
I have been broad awake two hours and more.
|
|
|
|
SATURNINUS
|
|
Come on, then. Horse and chariots let us have,
|
|
And to our sport. [(To Tamora)] Madam, now shall
|
|
you see
|
|
Our Roman hunting.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS I have dogs, my lord,
|
|
Will rouse the proudest panther in the chase
|
|
And climb the highest promontory top.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
And I have horse will follow where the game
|
|
Makes way and runs like swallows o'er the plain.
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS, [aside to Chiron]
|
|
Chiron, we hunt not, we, with horse nor hound,
|
|
But hope to pluck a dainty doe to ground.
|
|
[They exit.]
|
|
|
|
Scene 3
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter Aaron, alone, carrying a bag of gold.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
AARON
|
|
He that had wit would think that I had none,
|
|
To bury so much gold under a tree
|
|
And never after to inherit it.
|
|
Let him that thinks of me so abjectly
|
|
Know that this gold must coin a stratagem
|
|
Which, cunningly effected, will beget
|
|
A very excellent piece of villainy. [He hides the bag.]
|
|
And so repose, sweet gold, for their unrest
|
|
That have their alms out of the Empress' chest.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Tamora alone to Aaron the Moor.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
TAMORA
|
|
My lovely Aaron, wherefore look'st thou sad,
|
|
When everything doth make a gleeful boast?
|
|
The birds chant melody on every bush,
|
|
The snakes lies rolled in the cheerful sun,
|
|
The green leaves quiver with the cooling wind
|
|
And make a checkered shadow on the ground.
|
|
Under their sweet shade, Aaron, let us sit,
|
|
And whilst the babbling echo mocks the hounds,
|
|
Replying shrilly to the well-tuned horns,
|
|
As if a double hunt were heard at once,
|
|
Let us sit down and mark their yellowing noise.
|
|
And after conflict such as was supposed
|
|
The wand'ring prince and Dido once enjoyed
|
|
When with a happy storm they were surprised,
|
|
And curtained with a counsel-keeping cave,
|
|
We may, each wreathed in the other's arms,
|
|
Our pastimes done, possess a golden slumber,
|
|
Whiles hounds and horns and sweet melodious birds
|
|
Be unto us as is a nurse's song
|
|
Of lullaby to bring her babe asleep.
|
|
|
|
AARON
|
|
Madam, though Venus govern your desires,
|
|
Saturn is dominator over mine.
|
|
What signifies my deadly standing eye,
|
|
My silence, and my cloudy melancholy,
|
|
My fleece of woolly hair that now uncurls
|
|
Even as an adder when she doth unroll
|
|
To do some fatal execution?
|
|
No, madam, these are no venereal signs.
|
|
Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand,
|
|
Blood and revenge are hammering in my head.
|
|
Hark, Tamora, the empress of my soul,
|
|
Which never hopes more heaven than rests in thee,
|
|
This is the day of doom for Bassianus.
|
|
His Philomel must lose her tongue today,
|
|
Thy sons make pillage of her chastity
|
|
And wash their hands in Bassianus' blood.
|
|
[He takes out a paper.]
|
|
Seest thou this letter? Take it up, I pray thee,
|
|
And give the King this fatal-plotted scroll.
|
|
[He hands her the paper.]
|
|
Now, question me no more. We are espied.
|
|
Here comes a parcel of our hopeful booty,
|
|
Which dreads not yet their lives' destruction.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Bassianus and Lavinia.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
TAMORA
|
|
Ah, my sweet Moor, sweeter to me than life!
|
|
|
|
AARON
|
|
No more, great empress. Bassianus comes.
|
|
Be cross with him, and I'll go fetch thy sons
|
|
To back thy quarrels, whatsoe'er they be.
|
|
[He exits.]
|
|
|
|
BASSIANUS
|
|
Who have we here? Rome's royal empress,
|
|
Unfurnished of her well-beseeming troop?
|
|
Or is it Dian, habited like her,
|
|
Who hath abandoned her holy groves
|
|
To see the general hunting in this forest?
|
|
|
|
TAMORA
|
|
Saucy controller of my private steps,
|
|
Had I the power that some say Dian had,
|
|
Thy temples should be planted presently
|
|
With horns, as was Acteon's, and the hounds
|
|
Should drive upon thy new-transformed limbs,
|
|
Unmannerly intruder as thou art.
|
|
|
|
LAVINIA
|
|
Under your patience, gentle empress,
|
|
'Tis thought you have a goodly gift in horning,
|
|
And to be doubted that your Moor and you
|
|
Are singled forth to try experiments.
|
|
Jove shield your husband from his hounds today!
|
|
'Tis pity they should take him for a stag.
|
|
|
|
BASSIANUS
|
|
Believe me, queen, your swarthy Cimmerian
|
|
Doth make your honor of his body's hue,
|
|
Spotted, detested, and abominable.
|
|
Why are you sequestered from all your train,
|
|
Dismounted from your snow-white goodly steed,
|
|
And wandered hither to an obscure plot,
|
|
Accompanied but with a barbarous Moor,
|
|
If foul desire had not conducted you?
|
|
|
|
LAVINIA
|
|
And being intercepted in your sport,
|
|
Great reason that my noble lord be rated
|
|
For sauciness.--I pray you, let us hence,
|
|
And let her joy her raven-colored love.
|
|
This valley fits the purpose passing well.
|
|
|
|
BASSIANUS
|
|
The King my brother shall have notice of this.
|
|
|
|
LAVINIA
|
|
Ay, for these slips have made him noted long.
|
|
Good king to be so mightily abused!
|
|
|
|
TAMORA
|
|
Why, I have patience to endure all this.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Chiron and Demetrius.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS
|
|
How now, dear sovereign and our gracious mother,
|
|
Why doth your Highness look so pale and wan?
|
|
|
|
TAMORA
|
|
Have I not reason, think you, to look pale?
|
|
These two have ticed me hither to this place,
|
|
A barren, detested vale you see it is;
|
|
The trees, though summer, yet forlorn and lean,
|
|
Overcome with moss and baleful mistletoe.
|
|
Here never shines the sun, here nothing breeds,
|
|
Unless the nightly owl or fatal raven.
|
|
And when they showed me this abhorred pit,
|
|
They told me, here at dead time of the night
|
|
A thousand fiends, a thousand hissing snakes,
|
|
Ten thousand swelling toads, as many urchins,
|
|
Would make such fearful and confused cries
|
|
As any mortal body hearing it
|
|
Should straight fall mad, or else die suddenly.
|
|
No sooner had they told this hellish tale
|
|
But straight they told me they would bind me here
|
|
Unto the body of a dismal yew
|
|
And leave me to this miserable death.
|
|
And then they called me foul adulteress,
|
|
Lascivious Goth, and all the bitterest terms
|
|
That ever ear did hear to such effect.
|
|
And had you not by wondrous fortune come,
|
|
This vengeance on me had they executed.
|
|
Revenge it as you love your mother's life,
|
|
Or be you not henceforth called my children.
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS, [drawing his dagger]
|
|
This is a witness that I am thy son.
|
|
|
|
CHIRON, [drawing his dagger]
|
|
And this for me, struck home to show my strength.
|
|
[They stab Bassianus.]
|
|
|
|
LAVINIA
|
|
Ay, come, Semiramis, nay, barbarous Tamora,
|
|
For no name fits thy nature but thy own!
|
|
|
|
TAMORA
|
|
Give me the poniard! You shall know, my boys,
|
|
Your mother's hand shall right your mother's wrong.
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS
|
|
Stay, madam, here is more belongs to her.
|
|
First thrash the corn, then after burn the straw.
|
|
This minion stood upon her chastity,
|
|
Upon her nuptial vow, her loyalty,
|
|
And with that painted hope braves your mightiness;
|
|
And shall she carry this unto her grave?
|
|
|
|
CHIRON
|
|
And if she do, I would I were an eunuch!
|
|
Drag hence her husband to some secret hole,
|
|
And make his dead trunk pillow to our lust.
|
|
|
|
TAMORA
|
|
But when you have the honey you desire,
|
|
Let not this wasp outlive, us both to sting.
|
|
|
|
CHIRON
|
|
I warrant you, madam, we will make that sure.--
|
|
Come, mistress, now perforce we will enjoy
|
|
That nice-preserved honesty of yours.
|
|
|
|
LAVINIA
|
|
O Tamora, thou bearest a woman's face--
|
|
|
|
TAMORA
|
|
I will not hear her speak. Away with her.
|
|
|
|
LAVINIA
|
|
Sweet lords, entreat her hear me but a word.
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS, [to Tamora]
|
|
Listen, fair madam. Let it be your glory
|
|
To see her tears, but be your heart to them
|
|
As unrelenting flint to drops of rain.
|
|
|
|
LAVINIA
|
|
When did the tiger's young ones teach the dam?
|
|
O, do not learn her wrath; she taught it thee.
|
|
The milk thou suck'st from her did turn to marble.
|
|
Even at thy teat thou hadst thy tyranny.
|
|
Yet every mother breeds not sons alike.
|
|
[To Chiron.] Do thou entreat her show a woman's pity.
|
|
|
|
CHIRON
|
|
What, wouldst thou have me prove myself a bastard?
|
|
|
|
LAVINIA
|
|
'Tis true; the raven doth not hatch a lark.
|
|
Yet have I heard--O, could I find it now!--
|
|
The lion, moved with pity, did endure
|
|
To have his princely paws pared all away.
|
|
Some say that ravens foster forlorn children,
|
|
The whilst their own birds famish in their nests.
|
|
O, be to me, though thy hard heart say no,
|
|
Nothing so kind, but something pitiful.
|
|
|
|
TAMORA
|
|
I know not what it means.--Away with her.
|
|
|
|
LAVINIA
|
|
O, let me teach thee! For my father's sake,
|
|
That gave thee life when well he might have slain thee,
|
|
Be not obdurate; open thy deaf ears.
|
|
|
|
TAMORA
|
|
Hadst thou in person ne'er offended me,
|
|
Even for his sake am I pitiless.--
|
|
Remember, boys, I poured forth tears in vain
|
|
To save your brother from the sacrifice,
|
|
But fierce Andronicus would not relent.
|
|
Therefore away with her, and use her as you will;
|
|
The worse to her, the better loved of me.
|
|
|
|
LAVINIA
|
|
O Tamora, be called a gentle queen,
|
|
And with thine own hands kill me in this place!
|
|
For 'tis not life that I have begged so long;
|
|
Poor I was slain when Bassianus died.
|
|
|
|
TAMORA
|
|
What begg'st thou, then? Fond woman, let me go!
|
|
|
|
LAVINIA
|
|
'Tis present death I beg, and one thing more
|
|
That womanhood denies my tongue to tell.
|
|
O, keep me from their worse-than-killing lust,
|
|
And tumble me into some loathsome pit
|
|
Where never man's eye may behold my body.
|
|
Do this, and be a charitable murderer.
|
|
|
|
TAMORA
|
|
So should I rob my sweet sons of their fee.
|
|
No, let them satisfy their lust on thee.
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS, [to Lavinia]
|
|
Away, for thou hast stayed us here too long!
|
|
|
|
LAVINIA, [to Tamora]
|
|
No grace, no womanhood? Ah, beastly creature,
|
|
The blot and enemy to our general name,
|
|
Confusion fall--
|
|
|
|
CHIRON
|
|
Nay, then, I'll stop your mouth.--Bring thou her
|
|
husband.
|
|
This is the hole where Aaron bid us hide him.
|
|
[They put Bassianus' body in the pit and
|
|
exit, carrying off Lavinia.]
|
|
|
|
TAMORA
|
|
Farewell, my sons. See that you make her sure.
|
|
Ne'er let my heart know merry cheer indeed
|
|
Till all the Andronici be made away.
|
|
Now will I hence to seek my lovely Moor,
|
|
And let my spleenful sons this trull deflower.
|
|
[She exits.]
|
|
|
|
[Enter Aaron with two of Titus' sons,
|
|
Quintus and Martius.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
AARON
|
|
Come on, my lords, the better foot before.
|
|
Straight will I bring you to the loathsome pit
|
|
Where I espied the panther fast asleep.
|
|
|
|
QUINTUS
|
|
My sight is very dull, whate'er it bodes.
|
|
|
|
MARTIUS
|
|
And mine, I promise you. Were it not for shame,
|
|
Well could I leave our sport to sleep awhile.
|
|
[He falls into the pit.]
|
|
|
|
QUINTUS
|
|
What, art thou fallen? What subtle hole is this,
|
|
Whose mouth is covered with rude-growing briers
|
|
Upon whose leaves are drops of new-shed blood
|
|
As fresh as morning dew distilled on flowers?
|
|
A very fatal place it seems to me.
|
|
Speak, brother! Hast thou hurt thee with the fall?
|
|
|
|
MARTIUS
|
|
O, brother, with the dismal'st object hurt
|
|
That ever eye with sight made heart lament!
|
|
|
|
AARON, [aside]
|
|
Now will I fetch the King to find them here,
|
|
That he thereby may have a likely guess
|
|
How these were they that made away his brother.
|
|
[He exits.]
|
|
|
|
MARTIUS
|
|
Why dost not comfort me and help me out
|
|
From this unhallowed and bloodstained hole?
|
|
|
|
QUINTUS
|
|
I am surprised with an uncouth fear.
|
|
A chilling sweat o'erruns my trembling joints.
|
|
My heart suspects more than mine eye can see.
|
|
|
|
MARTIUS
|
|
To prove thou hast a true-divining heart,
|
|
Aaron and thou look down into this den
|
|
And see a fearful sight of blood and death.
|
|
|
|
QUINTUS
|
|
Aaron is gone, and my compassionate heart
|
|
Will not permit mine eyes once to behold
|
|
The thing whereat it trembles by surmise.
|
|
O, tell me who it is, for ne'er till now
|
|
Was I a child to fear I know not what.
|
|
|
|
MARTIUS
|
|
Lord Bassianus lies berayed in blood,
|
|
All on a heap, like to a slaughtered lamb,
|
|
In this detested, dark, blood-drinking pit.
|
|
|
|
QUINTUS
|
|
If it be dark, how dost thou know 'tis he?
|
|
|
|
MARTIUS
|
|
Upon his bloody finger he doth wear
|
|
A precious ring that lightens all this hole,
|
|
Which like a taper in some monument
|
|
Doth shine upon the dead man's earthy cheeks
|
|
And shows the ragged entrails of this pit.
|
|
So pale did shine the moon on Pyramus
|
|
When he by night lay bathed in maiden blood.
|
|
O, brother, help me with thy fainting hand--
|
|
If fear hath made thee faint as me it hath--
|
|
Out of this fell devouring receptacle,
|
|
As hateful as Cocytus' misty mouth.
|
|
|
|
QUINTUS, [reaching into the pit]
|
|
Reach me thy hand, that I may help thee out,
|
|
Or, wanting strength to do thee so much good,
|
|
I may be plucked into the swallowing womb
|
|
Of this deep pit, poor Bassianus' grave.
|
|
[He pulls Martius' hand.]
|
|
I have no strength to pluck thee to the brink.
|
|
|
|
MARTIUS
|
|
Nor I no strength to climb without thy help.
|
|
|
|
QUINTUS
|
|
Thy hand once more. I will not loose again
|
|
Till thou art here aloft or I below.
|
|
Thou canst not come to me. I come to thee.
|
|
[He falls in.]
|
|
|
|
[Enter the Emperor Saturninus, with Attendants,
|
|
and Aaron the Moor.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
SATURNINUS
|
|
Along with me! I'll see what hole is here
|
|
And what he is that now is leapt into it.--
|
|
Say, who art thou that lately didst descend
|
|
Into this gaping hollow of the earth?
|
|
|
|
MARTIUS
|
|
The unhappy sons of old Andronicus,
|
|
Brought hither in a most unlucky hour
|
|
To find thy brother Bassianus dead.
|
|
|
|
SATURNINUS
|
|
My brother dead! I know thou dost but jest.
|
|
He and his lady both are at the lodge
|
|
Upon the north side of this pleasant chase.
|
|
'Tis not an hour since I left them there.
|
|
|
|
MARTIUS
|
|
We know not where you left them all alive,
|
|
But, out alas, here have we found him dead.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Tamora, Titus Andronicus, and Lucius.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
TAMORA Where is my lord the King?
|
|
|
|
SATURNINUS
|
|
Here, Tamora, though grieved with killing grief.
|
|
|
|
TAMORA
|
|
Where is thy brother Bassianus?
|
|
|
|
SATURNINUS
|
|
Now to the bottom dost thou search my wound.
|
|
Poor Bassianus here lies murdered.
|
|
|
|
TAMORA
|
|
Then all too late I bring this fatal writ,
|
|
The complot of this timeless tragedy,
|
|
And wonder greatly that man's face can fold
|
|
In pleasing smiles such murderous tyranny.
|
|
[She giveth Saturnine a letter.]
|
|
|
|
SATURNINUS [(reads the letter):]
|
|
An if we miss to meet him handsomely,
|
|
Sweet huntsman--Bassianus 'tis we mean--
|
|
Do thou so much as dig the grave for him;
|
|
Thou know'st our meaning. Look for thy reward
|
|
Among the nettles at the elder tree
|
|
Which overshades the mouth of that same pit
|
|
Where we decreed to bury Bassianus.
|
|
Do this, and purchase us thy lasting friends.
|
|
O Tamora, was ever heard the like?
|
|
This is the pit, and this the elder tree.--
|
|
Look, sirs, if you can find the huntsman out
|
|
That should have murdered Bassianus here.
|
|
|
|
AARON
|
|
My gracious lord, here is the bag of gold.
|
|
|
|
SATURNINUS, [to Titus]
|
|
Two of thy whelps, fell curs of bloody kind,
|
|
Have here bereft my brother of his life.--
|
|
Sirs, drag them from the pit unto the prison.
|
|
There let them bide until we have devised
|
|
Some never-heard-of torturing pain for them.
|
|
|
|
TAMORA
|
|
What, are they in this pit? O wondrous thing!
|
|
How easily murder is discovered.
|
|
[Attendants pull Quintus, Martius, and
|
|
the body of Bassianus from the pit.]
|
|
|
|
TITUS, [kneeling]
|
|
High Emperor, upon my feeble knee
|
|
I beg this boon with tears not lightly shed,
|
|
That this fell fault of my accursed sons--
|
|
Accursed if the faults be proved in them--
|
|
|
|
SATURNINUS
|
|
If it be proved! You see it is apparent.
|
|
Who found this letter? Tamora, was it you?
|
|
|
|
TAMORA
|
|
Andronicus himself did take it up.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
I did, my lord, yet let me be their bail,
|
|
For by my father's reverend tomb I vow
|
|
They shall be ready at your Highness' will
|
|
To answer their suspicion with their lives.
|
|
|
|
SATURNINUS
|
|
Thou shalt not bail them. See thou follow me.--
|
|
Some bring the murdered body, some the murderers.
|
|
Let them not speak a word. The guilt is plain.
|
|
For, by my soul, were there worse end than death,
|
|
That end upon them should be executed.
|
|
|
|
TAMORA
|
|
Andronicus, I will entreat the King.
|
|
Fear not thy sons; they shall do well enough.
|
|
|
|
TITUS, [rising]
|
|
Come, Lucius, come. Stay not to talk with them.
|
|
[They exit, with Attendants leading Martius and
|
|
Quintus and bearing the body of Bassianus.]
|
|
|
|
Scene 4
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter the Empress' sons, Demetrius and Chiron,
|
|
with Lavinia, her hands cut off, and her tongue cut out,
|
|
and ravished.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS
|
|
So, now go tell, an if thy tongue can speak,
|
|
Who 'twas that cut thy tongue and ravished thee.
|
|
|
|
CHIRON
|
|
Write down thy mind; bewray thy meaning so,
|
|
An if thy stumps will let thee play the scribe.
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS
|
|
See how with signs and tokens she can scrowl.
|
|
|
|
CHIRON, [to Lavinia]
|
|
Go home. Call for sweet water; wash thy hands.
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS
|
|
She hath no tongue to call, nor hands to wash;
|
|
And so let's leave her to her silent walks.
|
|
|
|
CHIRON
|
|
An 'twere my cause, I should go hang myself.
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS
|
|
If thou hadst hands to help thee knit the cord.
|
|
[Chiron and Demetrius exit.]
|
|
|
|
[Enter Marcus from hunting.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
Who is this? My niece, that flies away so fast?--
|
|
Cousin, a word. Where is your husband?
|
|
If I do dream, would all my wealth would wake me.
|
|
If I do wake, some planet strike me down
|
|
That I may slumber an eternal sleep.
|
|
Speak, gentle niece. What stern ungentle hands
|
|
Hath lopped and hewed and made thy body bare
|
|
Of her two branches, those sweet ornaments
|
|
Whose circling shadows kings have sought to sleep in,
|
|
And might not gain so great a happiness
|
|
As half thy love? Why dost not speak to me?
|
|
Alas, a crimson river of warm blood,
|
|
Like to a bubbling fountain stirred with wind,
|
|
Doth rise and fall between thy rosed lips,
|
|
Coming and going with thy honey breath.
|
|
But sure some Tereus hath deflowered thee,
|
|
And lest thou shouldst detect him cut thy tongue.
|
|
Ah, now thou turn'st away thy face for shame,
|
|
And notwithstanding all this loss of blood,
|
|
As from a conduit with three issuing spouts,
|
|
Yet do thy cheeks look red as Titan's face,
|
|
Blushing to be encountered with a cloud.
|
|
Shall I speak for thee, shall I say 'tis so?
|
|
O, that I knew thy heart, and knew the beast,
|
|
That I might rail at him to ease my mind.
|
|
Sorrow concealed, like an oven stopped,
|
|
Doth burn the heart to cinders where it is.
|
|
Fair Philomela, why she but lost her tongue,
|
|
And in a tedious sampler sewed her mind;
|
|
But, lovely niece, that mean is cut from thee.
|
|
A craftier Tereus, cousin, hast thou met,
|
|
And he hath cut those pretty fingers off
|
|
That could have better sewed than Philomel.
|
|
O, had the monster seen those lily hands
|
|
Tremble like aspen leaves upon a lute
|
|
And make the silken strings delight to kiss them,
|
|
He would not then have touched them for his life.
|
|
Or had he heard the heavenly harmony
|
|
Which that sweet tongue hath made,
|
|
He would have dropped his knife and fell asleep,
|
|
As Cerberus at the Thracian poet's feet.
|
|
Come, let us go and make thy father blind,
|
|
For such a sight will blind a father's eye.
|
|
One hour's storm will drown the fragrant meads;
|
|
What will whole months of tears thy father's eyes?
|
|
Do not draw back, for we will mourn with thee.
|
|
O, could our mourning ease thy misery!
|
|
[They exit.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
ACT 3
|
|
=====
|
|
|
|
Scene 1
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter the Judges and Senators with Titus' two sons
|
|
(Quintus and Martius) bound, passing on the stage to
|
|
the place of execution, and Titus going before, pleading.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
Hear me, grave fathers; noble tribunes, stay.
|
|
For pity of mine age, whose youth was spent
|
|
In dangerous wars whilst you securely slept;
|
|
For all my blood in Rome's great quarrel shed,
|
|
For all the frosty nights that I have watched,
|
|
And for these bitter tears which now you see,
|
|
Filling the aged wrinkles in my cheeks,
|
|
Be pitiful to my condemned sons,
|
|
Whose souls is not corrupted as 'tis thought.
|
|
For two-and-twenty sons I never wept
|
|
Because they died in honor's lofty bed.
|
|
[Andronicus lieth down, and the Judges pass by him.]
|
|
[They exit with the prisoners as Titus continues speaking.]
|
|
For these, tribunes, in the dust I write
|
|
My heart's deep languor and my soul's sad tears.
|
|
Let my tears stanch the earth's dry appetite.
|
|
My sons' sweet blood will make it shame and blush.
|
|
O Earth, I will befriend thee more with rain
|
|
That shall distil from these two ancient ruins
|
|
Than youthful April shall with all his showers.
|
|
In summer's drought I'll drop upon thee still;
|
|
In winter with warm tears I'll melt the snow
|
|
And keep eternal springtime on thy face,
|
|
So thou refuse to drink my dear sons' blood.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Lucius with his weapon drawn.]
|
|
|
|
O reverend tribunes, O gentle aged men,
|
|
Unbind my sons, reverse the doom of death,
|
|
And let me say, that never wept before,
|
|
My tears are now prevailing orators.
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS
|
|
O noble father, you lament in vain.
|
|
The Tribunes hear you not; no man is by,
|
|
And you recount your sorrows to a stone.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
Ah, Lucius, for thy brothers let me plead.--
|
|
Grave tribunes, once more I entreat of you--
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS
|
|
My gracious lord, no tribune hears you speak.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
Why, 'tis no matter, man. If they did hear,
|
|
They would not mark me; if they did mark,
|
|
They would not pity me. Yet plead I must,
|
|
And bootless unto them.
|
|
Therefore I tell my sorrows to the stones,
|
|
Who, though they cannot answer my distress,
|
|
Yet in some sort they are better than the Tribunes,
|
|
For that they will not intercept my tale.
|
|
When I do weep, they humbly at my feet
|
|
Receive my tears and seem to weep with me,
|
|
And were they but attired in grave weeds,
|
|
Rome could afford no tribunes like to these.
|
|
A stone is soft as wax, tribunes more hard than
|
|
stones;
|
|
A stone is silent and offendeth not,
|
|
And tribunes with their tongues doom men to death.
|
|
But wherefore stand'st thou with thy weapon drawn?
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS
|
|
To rescue my two brothers from their death,
|
|
For which attempt the Judges have pronounced
|
|
My everlasting doom of banishment.
|
|
|
|
TITUS, [rising]
|
|
O happy man, they have befriended thee!
|
|
Why, foolish Lucius, dost thou not perceive
|
|
That Rome is but a wilderness of tigers?
|
|
Tigers must prey, and Rome affords no prey
|
|
But me and mine. How happy art thou then
|
|
From these devourers to be banished.
|
|
But who comes with our brother Marcus here?
|
|
|
|
[Enter Marcus with Lavinia.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
Titus, prepare thy aged eyes to weep,
|
|
Or, if not so, thy noble heart to break.
|
|
I bring consuming sorrow to thine age.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
Will it consume me? Let me see it, then.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
This was thy daughter.
|
|
|
|
TITUS Why, Marcus, so she is.
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS Ay me, this object kills me!
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
Faint-hearted boy, arise and look upon her.--
|
|
Speak, Lavinia. What accursed hand
|
|
Hath made thee handless in thy father's sight?
|
|
What fool hath added water to the sea
|
|
Or brought a faggot to bright-burning Troy?
|
|
My grief was at the height before thou cam'st,
|
|
And now like Nilus it disdaineth bounds.--
|
|
Give me a sword. I'll chop off my hands too,
|
|
For they have fought for Rome and all in vain;
|
|
And they have nursed this woe in feeding life;
|
|
In bootless prayer have they been held up,
|
|
And they have served me to effectless use.
|
|
Now all the service I require of them
|
|
Is that the one will help to cut the other.--
|
|
'Tis well, Lavinia, that thou hast no hands,
|
|
For hands to do Rome service is but vain.
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS
|
|
Speak, gentle sister. Who hath martyred thee?
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
O, that delightful engine of her thoughts,
|
|
That blabbed them with such pleasing eloquence,
|
|
Is torn from forth that pretty hollow cage
|
|
Where, like a sweet melodious bird, it sung
|
|
Sweet varied notes, enchanting every ear.
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS
|
|
O, say thou for her who hath done this deed!
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
O, thus I found her straying in the park,
|
|
Seeking to hide herself as doth the deer
|
|
That hath received some unrecuring wound.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
It was my dear, and he that wounded her
|
|
Hath hurt me more than had he killed me dead.
|
|
For now I stand as one upon a rock,
|
|
Environed with a wilderness of sea,
|
|
Who marks the waxing tide grow wave by wave,
|
|
Expecting ever when some envious surge
|
|
Will in his brinish bowels swallow him.
|
|
This way to death my wretched sons are gone;
|
|
Here stands my other son a banished man,
|
|
And here my brother, weeping at my woes.
|
|
But that which gives my soul the greatest spurn
|
|
Is dear Lavinia, dearer than my soul.
|
|
Had I but seen thy picture in this plight
|
|
It would have madded me. What shall I do,
|
|
Now I behold thy lively body so?
|
|
Thou hast no hands to wipe away thy tears,
|
|
Nor tongue to tell me who hath martyred thee.
|
|
Thy husband he is dead, and for his death
|
|
Thy brothers are condemned, and dead by this.--
|
|
Look, Marcus!--Ah, son Lucius, look on her!
|
|
When I did name her brothers, then fresh tears
|
|
Stood on her cheeks as doth the honeydew
|
|
Upon a gathered lily almost withered.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
Perchance she weeps because they killed her husband,
|
|
Perchance because she knows them innocent.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
If they did kill thy husband, then be joyful,
|
|
Because the law hath ta'en revenge on them.--
|
|
No, no, they would not do so foul a deed.
|
|
Witness the sorrow that their sister makes.--
|
|
Gentle Lavinia, let me kiss thy lips,
|
|
Or make some sign how I may do thee ease.
|
|
Shall thy good uncle and thy brother Lucius
|
|
And thou and I sit round about some fountain,
|
|
Looking all downwards to behold our cheeks,
|
|
How they are stained like meadows yet not dry
|
|
With miry slime left on them by a flood?
|
|
And in the fountain shall we gaze so long
|
|
Till the fresh taste be taken from that clearness
|
|
And made a brine pit with our bitter tears?
|
|
Or shall we cut away our hands like thine?
|
|
Or shall we bite our tongues and in dumb shows
|
|
Pass the remainder of our hateful days?
|
|
What shall we do? Let us that have our tongues
|
|
Plot some device of further misery
|
|
To make us wondered at in time to come.
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS
|
|
Sweet father, cease your tears, for at your grief
|
|
See how my wretched sister sobs and weeps.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
Patience, dear niece.--Good Titus, dry thine eyes.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
Ah, Marcus, Marcus! Brother, well I wot
|
|
Thy napkin cannot drink a tear of mine,
|
|
For thou, poor man, hast drowned it with thine own.
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS
|
|
Ah, my Lavinia, I will wipe thy cheeks.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
Mark, Marcus, mark. I understand her signs.
|
|
Had she a tongue to speak, now would she say
|
|
That to her brother which I said to thee.
|
|
His napkin, with his true tears all bewet,
|
|
Can do no service on her sorrowful cheeks.
|
|
O, what a sympathy of woe is this,
|
|
As far from help as limbo is from bliss.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Aaron the Moor alone.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
AARON
|
|
Titus Andronicus, my lord the Emperor
|
|
Sends thee this word, that if thou love thy sons,
|
|
Let Marcus, Lucius, or thyself, old Titus,
|
|
Or any one of you, chop off your hand
|
|
And send it to the King; he for the same
|
|
Will send thee hither both thy sons alive,
|
|
And that shall be the ransom for their fault.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
O gracious emperor! O gentle Aaron!
|
|
Did ever raven sing so like a lark,
|
|
That gives sweet tidings of the sun's uprise?
|
|
With all my heart I'll send the Emperor my hand.
|
|
Good Aaron, wilt thou help to chop it off?
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS
|
|
Stay, father, for that noble hand of thine,
|
|
That hath thrown down so many enemies,
|
|
Shall not be sent. My hand will serve the turn.
|
|
My youth can better spare my blood than you,
|
|
And therefore mine shall save my brothers' lives.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
Which of your hands hath not defended Rome
|
|
And reared aloft the bloody battleax,
|
|
Writing destruction on the enemy's castle?
|
|
O, none of both but are of high desert.
|
|
My hand hath been but idle; let it serve
|
|
To ransom my two nephews from their death.
|
|
Then have I kept it to a worthy end.
|
|
|
|
AARON
|
|
Nay, come, agree whose hand shall go along,
|
|
For fear they die before their pardon come.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
My hand shall go.
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS By heaven, it shall not go!
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
Sirs, strive no more. Such withered herbs as these
|
|
Are meet for plucking up, and therefore mine.
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS
|
|
Sweet father, if I shall be thought thy son,
|
|
Let me redeem my brothers both from death.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
And for our father's sake and mother's care,
|
|
Now let me show a brother's love to thee.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
Agree between you. I will spare my hand.
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS Then I'll go fetch an ax.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS But I will use the ax. [Lucius and Marcus exit.]
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
Come hither, Aaron. I'll deceive them both.
|
|
Lend me thy hand, and I will give thee mine.
|
|
|
|
AARON, [aside]
|
|
If that be called deceit, I will be honest
|
|
And never whilst I live deceive men so.
|
|
But I'll deceive you in another sort,
|
|
And that you'll say ere half an hour pass.
|
|
[He cuts off Titus' hand.]
|
|
|
|
[Enter Lucius and Marcus again.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
Now stay your strife. What shall be is dispatched.--
|
|
Good Aaron, give his Majesty my hand.
|
|
Tell him it was a hand that warded him
|
|
From thousand dangers. Bid him bury it.
|
|
More hath it merited; that let it have.
|
|
As for my sons, say I account of them
|
|
As jewels purchased at an easy price,
|
|
And yet dear, too, because I bought mine own.
|
|
|
|
AARON
|
|
I go, Andronicus, and for thy hand
|
|
Look by and by to have thy sons with thee.
|
|
[Aside.] Their heads, I mean. O, how this villainy
|
|
Doth fat me with the very thoughts of it!
|
|
Let fools do good and fair men call for grace;
|
|
Aaron will have his soul black like his face.
|
|
[He exits.]
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
O, here I lift this one hand up to heaven,
|
|
And bow this feeble ruin to the earth. [He kneels.]
|
|
If any power pities wretched tears,
|
|
To that I call. [(Lavinia kneels.)] What, wouldst thou
|
|
kneel with me?
|
|
Do, then, dear heart, for heaven shall hear our
|
|
prayers,
|
|
Or with our sighs we'll breathe the welkin dim
|
|
And stain the sun with fog, as sometime clouds
|
|
When they do hug him in their melting bosoms.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
O brother, speak with possibility,
|
|
And do not break into these deep extremes.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
Is not my sorrow deep, having no bottom?
|
|
Then be my passions bottomless with them.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
But yet let reason govern thy lament.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
If there were reason for these miseries,
|
|
Then into limits could I bind my woes.
|
|
When heaven doth weep, doth not the Earth o'erflow?
|
|
If the winds rage, doth not the sea wax mad,
|
|
Threat'ning the welkin with his big-swoll'n face?
|
|
And wilt thou have a reason for this coil?
|
|
I am the sea. Hark how her sighs doth flow!
|
|
She is the weeping welkin, I the Earth.
|
|
Then must my sea be moved with her sighs;
|
|
Then must my Earth with her continual tears
|
|
Become a deluge, overflowed and drowned,
|
|
Forwhy my bowels cannot hide her woes
|
|
But like a drunkard must I vomit them.
|
|
Then give me leave, for losers will have leave
|
|
To ease their stomachs with their bitter tongues.
|
|
|
|
[Enter a Messenger with two heads and a hand.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
MESSENGER
|
|
Worthy Andronicus, ill art thou repaid
|
|
For that good hand thou sent'st the Emperor.
|
|
Here are the heads of thy two noble sons,
|
|
And here's thy hand in scorn to thee sent back.
|
|
Thy grief their sports, thy resolution mocked,
|
|
That woe is me to think upon thy woes
|
|
More than remembrance of my father's death.
|
|
[He exits.]
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
Now let hot Etna cool in Sicily,
|
|
And be my heart an everburning hell!
|
|
These miseries are more than may be borne.
|
|
To weep with them that weep doth ease some deal,
|
|
But sorrow flouted at is double death.
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS
|
|
Ah, that this sight should make so deep a wound
|
|
And yet detested life not shrink thereat!
|
|
That ever death should let life bear his name,
|
|
Where life hath no more interest but to breathe.
|
|
[Lavinia kisses Titus.]
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
Alas, poor heart, that kiss is comfortless
|
|
As frozen water to a starved snake.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
When will this fearful slumber have an end?
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
Now farewell, flatt'ry; die, Andronicus.
|
|
Thou dost not slumber. See thy two sons' heads,
|
|
Thy warlike hand, thy mangled daughter here,
|
|
Thy other banished son with this dear sight
|
|
Struck pale and bloodless; and thy brother, I,
|
|
Even like a stony image cold and numb.
|
|
Ah, now no more will I control thy griefs.
|
|
Rent off thy silver hair, thy other hand,
|
|
Gnawing with thy teeth, and be this dismal sight
|
|
The closing up of our most wretched eyes.
|
|
Now is a time to storm. Why art thou still?
|
|
|
|
TITUS Ha, ha, ha!
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
Why dost thou laugh? It fits not with this hour.
|
|
[Titus and Lavinia rise.]
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
Why, I have not another tear to shed.
|
|
Besides, this sorrow is an enemy
|
|
And would usurp upon my wat'ry eyes
|
|
And make them blind with tributary tears.
|
|
Then which way shall I find Revenge's cave?
|
|
For these two heads do seem to speak to me
|
|
And threat me I shall never come to bliss
|
|
Till all these mischiefs be returned again
|
|
Even in their throats that hath committed them.
|
|
Come, let me see what task I have to do.
|
|
You heavy people, circle me about
|
|
That I may turn me to each one of you
|
|
And swear unto my soul to right your wrongs.
|
|
The vow is made. Come, brother, take a head,
|
|
And in this hand the other will I bear.--
|
|
And, Lavinia, thou shalt be employed in these arms.
|
|
Bear thou my hand, sweet wench, between thy
|
|
teeth.--
|
|
As for thee, boy, go get thee from my sight.
|
|
Thou art an exile, and thou must not stay.
|
|
Hie to the Goths and raise an army there.
|
|
And if you love me, as I think you do,
|
|
Let's kiss and part, for we have much to do.
|
|
[All but Lucius exit.]
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS
|
|
Farewell, Andronicus, my noble father,
|
|
The woefull'st man that ever lived in Rome.
|
|
Farewell, proud Rome, till Lucius come again.
|
|
He loves his pledges dearer than his life.
|
|
Farewell, Lavinia, my noble sister.
|
|
O, would thou wert as thou tofore hast been!
|
|
But now nor Lucius nor Lavinia lives
|
|
But in oblivion and hateful griefs.
|
|
If Lucius live he will requite your wrongs
|
|
And make proud Saturnine and his empress
|
|
Beg at the gates like Tarquin and his queen.
|
|
Now will I to the Goths and raise a power
|
|
To be revenged on Rome and Saturnine.
|
|
[Lucius exits.]
|
|
|
|
Scene 2
|
|
=======
|
|
[A banquet. Enter Titus Andronicus, Marcus, Lavinia,
|
|
and the boy Young Lucius, with Servants.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
So, so. Now sit, and look you eat no more
|
|
Than will preserve just so much strength in us
|
|
As will revenge these bitter woes of ours.
|
|
Marcus, unknit that sorrow-wreathen knot.
|
|
Thy niece and I, poor creatures, want our hands
|
|
And cannot passionate our tenfold grief
|
|
With folded arms. This poor right hand of mine
|
|
Is left to tyrannize upon my breast,
|
|
Who, when my heart, all mad with misery,
|
|
Beats in this hollow prison of my flesh,
|
|
Then thus I thump it down.--
|
|
Thou map of woe, that thus dost talk in signs,
|
|
When thy poor heart beats with outrageous beating,
|
|
Thou canst not strike it thus to make it still.
|
|
Wound it with sighing, girl, kill it with groans;
|
|
Or get some little knife between thy teeth
|
|
And just against thy heart make thou a hole,
|
|
That all the tears that thy poor eyes let fall
|
|
May run into that sink and, soaking in,
|
|
Drown the lamenting fool in sea-salt tears.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
Fie, brother, fie! Teach her not thus to lay
|
|
Such violent hands upon her tender life.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
How now! Has sorrow made thee dote already?
|
|
Why, Marcus, no man should be mad but I.
|
|
What violent hands can she lay on her life?
|
|
Ah, wherefore dost thou urge the name of hands,
|
|
To bid Aeneas tell the tale twice o'er
|
|
How Troy was burnt and he made miserable?
|
|
O, handle not the theme, to talk of hands,
|
|
Lest we remember still that we have none.--
|
|
Fie, fie, how franticly I square my talk,
|
|
As if we should forget we had no hands
|
|
If Marcus did not name the word of hands!
|
|
Come, let's fall to, and, gentle girl, eat this.
|
|
Here is no drink!--Hark, Marcus, what she says.
|
|
I can interpret all her martyred signs.
|
|
She says she drinks no other drink but tears
|
|
Brewed with her sorrow, mashed upon her cheeks.--
|
|
Speechless complainer, I will learn thy thought.
|
|
In thy dumb action will I be as perfect
|
|
As begging hermits in their holy prayers.
|
|
Thou shalt not sigh, nor hold thy stumps to heaven,
|
|
Nor wink, nor nod, nor kneel, nor make a sign,
|
|
But I of these will wrest an alphabet
|
|
And by still practice learn to know thy meaning.
|
|
|
|
YOUNG LUCIUS, [weeping]
|
|
Good grandsire, leave these bitter deep laments.
|
|
Make my aunt merry with some pleasing tale.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
Alas, the tender boy, in passion moved,
|
|
Doth weep to see his grandsire's heaviness.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
Peace, tender sapling. Thou art made of tears,
|
|
And tears will quickly melt thy life away.
|
|
[Marcus strikes the dish with a knife.]
|
|
What dost thou strike at, Marcus, with thy knife?
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
At that that I have killed, my lord, a fly.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
Out on thee, murderer! Thou kill'st my heart.
|
|
Mine eyes are cloyed with view of tyranny;
|
|
A deed of death done on the innocent
|
|
Becomes not Titus' brother. Get thee gone.
|
|
I see thou art not for my company.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
Alas, my lord, I have but killed a fly.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
"But"? How if that fly had a father and mother?
|
|
How would he hang his slender gilded wings
|
|
And buzz lamenting doings in the air!
|
|
Poor harmless fly,
|
|
That, with his pretty buzzing melody,
|
|
Came here to make us merry! And thou hast killed
|
|
him.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
Pardon me, sir. It was a black, ill-favored fly,
|
|
Like to the Empress' Moor. Therefore I killed him.
|
|
|
|
TITUS O, O, O!
|
|
Then pardon me for reprehending thee,
|
|
For thou hast done a charitable deed.
|
|
Give me thy knife. I will insult on him,
|
|
Flattering myself as if it were the Moor
|
|
Come hither purposely to poison me.
|
|
There's for thyself, and that's for Tamora.
|
|
Ah, sirrah!
|
|
Yet I think we are not brought so low
|
|
But that between us we can kill a fly
|
|
That comes in likeness of a coal-black Moor.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
Alas, poor man, grief has so wrought on him
|
|
He takes false shadows for true substances.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
Come, take away.--Lavinia, go with me.
|
|
I'll to thy closet and go read with thee
|
|
Sad stories chanced in the times of old.--
|
|
Come, boy, and go with me. Thy sight is young,
|
|
And thou shalt read when mine begin to dazzle.
|
|
[They exit.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
ACT 4
|
|
=====
|
|
|
|
Scene 1
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter Lucius' son and Lavinia running after him, and
|
|
the boy flies from her with his books under his arm.
|
|
Enter Titus and Marcus.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
YOUNG LUCIUS
|
|
Help, grandsire, help! My aunt Lavinia
|
|
Follows me everywhere, I know not why.--
|
|
Good uncle Marcus, see how swift she comes!--
|
|
Alas, sweet aunt, I know not what you mean.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
Stand by me, Lucius. Do not fear thine aunt.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
She loves thee, boy, too well to do thee harm.
|
|
|
|
YOUNG LUCIUS
|
|
Ay, when my father was in Rome she did.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
What means my niece Lavinia by these signs?
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
Fear her not, Lucius. Somewhat doth she mean.
|
|
See, Lucius, see, how much she makes of thee.
|
|
Somewhither would she have thee go with her.
|
|
Ah, boy, Cornelia never with more care
|
|
Read to her sons than she hath read to thee
|
|
Sweet poetry and Tully's Orator.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
Canst thou not guess wherefore she plies thee thus?
|
|
|
|
YOUNG LUCIUS
|
|
My lord, I know not, I, nor can I guess,
|
|
Unless some fit or frenzy do possess her;
|
|
For I have heard my grandsire say full oft,
|
|
Extremity of griefs would make men mad,
|
|
And I have read that Hecuba of Troy
|
|
Ran mad for sorrow. That made me to fear,
|
|
Although, my lord, I know my noble aunt
|
|
Loves me as dear as e'er my mother did,
|
|
And would not but in fury fright my youth,
|
|
Which made me down to throw my books and fly,
|
|
Causeless, perhaps.--But pardon me, sweet aunt.
|
|
And, madam, if my uncle Marcus go,
|
|
I will most willingly attend your Ladyship.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS Lucius, I will.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
How now, Lavinia?--Marcus, what means this?
|
|
Some book there is that she desires to see.--
|
|
Which is it, girl, of these?--Open them, boy.--
|
|
[To Lavinia.] But thou art deeper read and better
|
|
skilled.
|
|
Come and take choice of all my library,
|
|
And so beguile thy sorrow till the heavens
|
|
Reveal the damned contriver of this deed.--
|
|
Why lifts she up her arms in sequence thus?
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
I think she means that there were more than one
|
|
Confederate in the fact. Ay, more there was,
|
|
Or else to heaven she heaves them for revenge.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
Lucius, what book is that she tosseth so?
|
|
|
|
YOUNG LUCIUS
|
|
Grandsire, 'tis Ovid's Metamorphosis.
|
|
My mother gave it me.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS For love of her that's gone,
|
|
Perhaps, she culled it from among the rest.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
Soft! So busily she turns the leaves.
|
|
Help her! What would she find?--Lavinia, shall I read?
|
|
This is the tragic tale of Philomel,
|
|
And treats of Tereus' treason and his rape.
|
|
And rape, I fear, was root of thy annoy.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
See, brother, see! Note how she quotes the leaves.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
Lavinia, wert thou thus surprised, sweet girl,
|
|
Ravished and wronged as Philomela was,
|
|
Forced in the ruthless, vast, and gloomy woods?
|
|
See, see! Ay, such a place there is where we did hunt--
|
|
O, had we never, never hunted there!--
|
|
Patterned by that the poet here describes,
|
|
By nature made for murders and for rapes.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
O, why should nature build so foul a den,
|
|
Unless the gods delight in tragedies?
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
Give signs, sweet girl, for here are none but friends,
|
|
What Roman lord it was durst do the deed.
|
|
Or slunk not Saturnine, as Tarquin erst,
|
|
That left the camp to sin in Lucrece' bed?
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
Sit down, sweet niece.--Brother, sit down by me.
|
|
[They sit.]
|
|
Apollo, Pallas, Jove, or Mercury
|
|
Inspire me, that I may this treason find.--
|
|
My lord, look here.--Look here, Lavinia.
|
|
[He writes his name with his staff and guides it
|
|
with feet and mouth.]
|
|
This sandy plot is plain; guide, if thou canst,
|
|
This after me. I have writ my name
|
|
Without the help of any hand at all.
|
|
Cursed be that heart that forced us to this shift!
|
|
Write thou, good niece, and here display at last
|
|
What God will have discovered for revenge.
|
|
Heaven guide thy pen to print thy sorrows plain,
|
|
That we may know the traitors and the truth.
|
|
[She takes the staff in her mouth, and guides it
|
|
with her stumps and writes.]
|
|
O, do you read, my lord, what she hath writ?
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
"Stuprum. Chiron, Demetrius."
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
What, what! The lustful sons of Tamora
|
|
Performers of this heinous, bloody deed?
|
|
|
|
TITUS Magni Dominator poli,
|
|
Tam lentus audis scelera, tam lentus vides?
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
O, calm thee, gentle lord, although I know
|
|
There is enough written upon this earth
|
|
To stir a mutiny in the mildest thoughts
|
|
And arm the minds of infants to exclaims.
|
|
My lord, kneel down with me.--Lavinia, kneel.--
|
|
And kneel, sweet boy, the Roman Hector's hope,
|
|
[They all kneel.]
|
|
And swear with me--as, with the woeful fere
|
|
And father of that chaste dishonored dame,
|
|
Lord Junius Brutus swore for Lucrece' rape--
|
|
That we will prosecute by good advice
|
|
Mortal revenge upon these traitorous Goths,
|
|
And see their blood or die with this reproach.
|
|
[They rise.]
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
'Tis sure enough, an you knew how.
|
|
But if you hunt these bearwhelps, then beware;
|
|
The dam will wake an if she wind you once.
|
|
She's with the lion deeply still in league,
|
|
And lulls him whilst she playeth on her back;
|
|
And when he sleeps will she do what she list.
|
|
You are a young huntsman, Marcus; let alone.
|
|
And come, I will go get a leaf of brass,
|
|
And with a gad of steel will write these words,
|
|
And lay it by. The angry northern wind
|
|
Will blow these sands like Sibyl's leaves abroad,
|
|
And where's our lesson then?--Boy, what say you?
|
|
|
|
YOUNG LUCIUS
|
|
I say, my lord, that if I were a man,
|
|
Their mother's bedchamber should not be safe
|
|
For these base bondmen to the yoke of Rome.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
Ay, that's my boy! Thy father hath full oft
|
|
For his ungrateful country done the like.
|
|
|
|
YOUNG LUCIUS
|
|
And, uncle, so will I, an if I live.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
Come, go with me into mine armory.
|
|
Lucius, I'll fit thee, and withal my boy
|
|
Shall carry from me to the Empress' sons
|
|
Presents that I intend to send them both.
|
|
Come, come. Thou 'lt do my message, wilt thou not?
|
|
|
|
YOUNG LUCIUS
|
|
Ay, with my dagger in their bosoms, grandsire.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
No, boy, not so. I'll teach thee another course.--
|
|
Lavinia, come.--Marcus, look to my house.
|
|
Lucius and I'll go brave it at the court;
|
|
Ay, marry, will we, sir, and we'll be waited on.
|
|
[All but Marcus exit.]
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
O heavens, can you hear a good man groan
|
|
And not relent, or not compassion him?
|
|
Marcus, attend him in his ecstasy,
|
|
That hath more scars of sorrow in his heart
|
|
Than foemen's marks upon his battered shield,
|
|
But yet so just that he will not revenge.
|
|
Revenge the heavens for old Andronicus!
|
|
[He exits.]
|
|
|
|
Scene 2
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter Aaron, Chiron, and Demetrius at one door, and at
|
|
the other door young Lucius and another, with a bundle
|
|
of weapons and verses writ upon them.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
CHIRON
|
|
Demetrius, here's the son of Lucius.
|
|
He hath some message to deliver us.
|
|
|
|
AARON
|
|
Ay, some mad message from his mad grandfather.
|
|
|
|
YOUNG LUCIUS
|
|
My lords, with all the humbleness I may,
|
|
I greet your Honors from Andronicus--
|
|
[Aside.] And pray the Roman gods confound you both.
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS
|
|
Gramercy, lovely Lucius. What's the news?
|
|
|
|
YOUNG LUCIUS, [aside]
|
|
That you are both deciphered, that's the news,
|
|
For villains marked with rape.--May it please you,
|
|
My grandsire, well advised, hath sent by me
|
|
The goodliest weapons of his armory
|
|
To gratify your honorable youth,
|
|
The hope of Rome; for so he bid me say,
|
|
And so I do, and with his gifts present
|
|
Your Lordships, that, whenever you have need,
|
|
You may be armed and appointed well,
|
|
And so I leave you both--[(aside)] like bloody villains.
|
|
[He exits, with Attendant.]
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS
|
|
What's here? A scroll, and written round about.
|
|
Let's see:
|
|
[He reads:] "Integer vitae, scelerisque purus,
|
|
Non eget Mauri iaculis, nec arcu."
|
|
|
|
CHIRON
|
|
O, 'tis a verse in Horace; I know it well.
|
|
I read it in the grammar long ago.
|
|
|
|
AARON
|
|
Ay, just; a verse in Horace; right, you have it.
|
|
[Aside.] Now, what a thing it is to be an ass!
|
|
Here's no sound jest. The old man hath found their
|
|
guilt
|
|
And sends them weapons wrapped about with lines
|
|
That wound, beyond their feeling, to the quick.
|
|
But were our witty empress well afoot,
|
|
She would applaud Andronicus' conceit.
|
|
But let her rest in her unrest awhile.--
|
|
And now, young lords, was 't not a happy star
|
|
Led us to Rome, strangers, and, more than so,
|
|
Captives, to be advanced to this height?
|
|
It did me good before the palace gate
|
|
To brave the tribune in his brother's hearing.
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS
|
|
But me more good to see so great a lord
|
|
Basely insinuate and send us gifts.
|
|
|
|
AARON
|
|
Had he not reason, Lord Demetrius?
|
|
Did you not use his daughter very friendly?
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS
|
|
I would we had a thousand Roman dames
|
|
At such a bay, by turn to serve our lust.
|
|
|
|
CHIRON
|
|
A charitable wish, and full of love!
|
|
|
|
AARON
|
|
Here lacks but your mother for to say amen.
|
|
|
|
CHIRON
|
|
And that would she, for twenty thousand more.
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS
|
|
Come, let us go and pray to all the gods
|
|
For our beloved mother in her pains.
|
|
|
|
AARON, [aside]
|
|
Pray to the devils; the gods have given us over.
|
|
[Trumpets sound offstage.]
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS
|
|
Why do the Emperor's trumpets flourish thus?
|
|
|
|
CHIRON
|
|
Belike for joy the Emperor hath a son.
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS Soft, who comes here?
|
|
|
|
[Enter Nurse, with a blackamoor child in her arms.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
NURSE Good morrow, lords.
|
|
O, tell me, did you see Aaron the Moor?
|
|
|
|
AARON
|
|
Well, more or less, or ne'er a whit at all,
|
|
Here Aaron is. And what with Aaron now?
|
|
|
|
NURSE
|
|
O, gentle Aaron, we are all undone!
|
|
Now help, or woe betide thee evermore.
|
|
|
|
AARON
|
|
Why, what a caterwauling dost thou keep!
|
|
What dost thou wrap and fumble in thy arms?
|
|
|
|
NURSE
|
|
O, that which I would hide from heaven's eye,
|
|
Our empress' shame and stately Rome's disgrace.
|
|
She is delivered, lords, she is delivered.
|
|
|
|
AARON To whom?
|
|
|
|
NURSE I mean, she is brought abed.
|
|
|
|
AARON
|
|
Well, God give her good rest. What hath he sent her?
|
|
|
|
NURSE A devil.
|
|
|
|
AARON
|
|
Why, then she is the devil's dam. A joyful issue!
|
|
|
|
NURSE
|
|
A joyless, dismal, black, and sorrowful issue!
|
|
Here is the babe, as loathsome as a toad
|
|
Amongst the fair-faced breeders of our clime.
|
|
The Empress sends it thee, thy stamp, thy seal,
|
|
And bids thee christen it with thy dagger's point.
|
|
|
|
AARON
|
|
Zounds, you whore, is black so base a hue?
|
|
[To the baby.] Sweet blowse, you are a beauteous
|
|
blossom, sure.
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS Villain, what hast thou done?
|
|
|
|
AARON That which thou canst not undo.
|
|
|
|
CHIRON Thou hast undone our mother.
|
|
|
|
AARON Villain, I have done thy mother.
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS
|
|
And therein, hellish dog, thou hast undone her.
|
|
Woe to her chance, and damned her loathed choice!
|
|
Accursed the offspring of so foul a fiend!
|
|
|
|
CHIRON It shall not live.
|
|
|
|
AARON It shall not die.
|
|
|
|
NURSE
|
|
Aaron, it must. The mother wills it so.
|
|
|
|
AARON
|
|
What, must it, nurse? Then let no man but I
|
|
Do execution on my flesh and blood.
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS
|
|
I'll broach the tadpole on my rapier's point.
|
|
Nurse, give it me. My sword shall soon dispatch it.
|
|
|
|
AARON, [taking the baby]
|
|
Sooner this sword shall plow thy bowels up!
|
|
Stay, murderous villains, will you kill your brother?
|
|
Now, by the burning tapers of the sky
|
|
That shone so brightly when this boy was got,
|
|
He dies upon my scimitar's sharp point
|
|
That touches this my firstborn son and heir.
|
|
I tell you, younglings, not Enceladus
|
|
With all his threat'ning band of Typhon's brood,
|
|
Nor great Alcides, nor the god of war
|
|
Shall seize this prey out of his father's hands.
|
|
What, what, you sanguine, shallow-hearted boys,
|
|
You white-limed walls, you alehouse painted signs!
|
|
Coal-black is better than another hue
|
|
In that it scorns to bear another hue;
|
|
For all the water in the ocean
|
|
Can never turn the swan's black legs to white,
|
|
Although she lave them hourly in the flood.
|
|
Tell the Empress from me, I am of age
|
|
To keep mine own, excuse it how she can.
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS
|
|
Wilt thou betray thy noble mistress thus?
|
|
|
|
AARON
|
|
My mistress is my mistress, this myself,
|
|
The vigor and the picture of my youth.
|
|
This before all the world do I prefer;
|
|
This maugre all the world will I keep safe,
|
|
Or some of you shall smoke for it in Rome.
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS
|
|
By this our mother is forever shamed.
|
|
|
|
CHIRON
|
|
Rome will despise her for this foul escape.
|
|
|
|
NURSE
|
|
The Emperor in his rage will doom her death.
|
|
|
|
CHIRON
|
|
I blush to think upon this ignomy.
|
|
|
|
AARON
|
|
Why, there's the privilege your beauty bears.
|
|
Fie, treacherous hue, that will betray with blushing
|
|
The close enacts and counsels of thy heart.
|
|
Here's a young lad framed of another leer.
|
|
Look how the black slave smiles upon the father,
|
|
As who should say "Old lad, I am thine own."
|
|
He is your brother, lords, sensibly fed
|
|
Of that self blood that first gave life to you,
|
|
And from that womb where you imprisoned were
|
|
He is enfranchised and come to light.
|
|
Nay, he is your brother by the surer side,
|
|
Although my seal be stamped in his face.
|
|
|
|
NURSE
|
|
Aaron, what shall I say unto the Empress?
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS
|
|
Advise thee, Aaron, what is to be done,
|
|
And we will all subscribe to thy advice.
|
|
Save thou the child, so we may all be safe.
|
|
|
|
AARON
|
|
Then sit we down, and let us all consult.
|
|
My son and I will have the wind of you.
|
|
Keep there. Now talk at pleasure of your safety.
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS, [to the Nurse]
|
|
How many women saw this child of his?
|
|
|
|
AARON
|
|
Why, so, brave lords! When we join in league,
|
|
I am a lamb; but if you brave the Moor,
|
|
The chafed boar, the mountain lioness,
|
|
The ocean swells not so as Aaron storms.
|
|
[To the Nurse.] But say again, how many saw the
|
|
child?
|
|
|
|
NURSE
|
|
Cornelia the midwife and myself,
|
|
And no one else but the delivered Empress.
|
|
|
|
AARON
|
|
The Empress, the midwife, and yourself.
|
|
Two may keep counsel when the third's away.
|
|
Go to the Empress; tell her this I said.
|
|
[He kills her.]
|
|
"Wheak, wheak"! So cries a pig prepared to the spit.
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS
|
|
What mean'st thou, Aaron? Wherefore didst thou this?
|
|
|
|
AARON
|
|
O Lord, sir, 'tis a deed of policy.
|
|
Shall she live to betray this guilt of ours,
|
|
A long-tongued babbling gossip? No, lords, no.
|
|
And now be it known to you my full intent:
|
|
Not far one Muliteus my countryman
|
|
His wife but yesternight was brought to bed.
|
|
His child is like to her, fair as you are.
|
|
Go pack with him, and give the mother gold,
|
|
And tell them both the circumstance of all,
|
|
And how by this their child shall be advanced
|
|
And be received for the Emperor's heir,
|
|
And substituted in the place of mine,
|
|
To calm this tempest whirling in the court;
|
|
And let the Emperor dandle him for his own.
|
|
Hark you, lords, you see I have given her physic,
|
|
[indicating the Nurse]
|
|
And you must needs bestow her funeral.
|
|
The fields are near, and you are gallant grooms.
|
|
This done, see that you take no longer days,
|
|
But send the midwife presently to me.
|
|
The midwife and the nurse well made away,
|
|
Then let the ladies tattle what they please.
|
|
|
|
CHIRON
|
|
Aaron, I see thou wilt not trust the air
|
|
With secrets.
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS For this care of Tamora,
|
|
Herself and hers are highly bound to thee.
|
|
[Demetrius and Chiron exit,
|
|
carrying the Nurse's body.]
|
|
|
|
AARON
|
|
Now to the Goths, as swift as swallow flies,
|
|
There to dispose this treasure in mine arms
|
|
And secretly to greet the Empress' friends.--
|
|
Come on, you thick-lipped slave, I'll bear you hence,
|
|
For it is you that puts us to our shifts.
|
|
I'll make you feed on berries and on roots,
|
|
And feed on curds and whey, and suck the goat,
|
|
And cabin in a cave, and bring you up
|
|
To be a warrior and command a camp.
|
|
[He exits with the baby.]
|
|
|
|
Scene 3
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter Titus, old Marcus, his son Publius, young
|
|
Lucius, and other gentlemen (Caius and Sempronius)
|
|
with bows, and Titus bears the arrows with letters on
|
|
the ends of them.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
Come, Marcus, come. Kinsmen, this is the way.--
|
|
Sir boy, let me see your archery.
|
|
Look you draw home enough and 'tis there straight.--
|
|
Terras Astraea reliquit.
|
|
Be you remembered, Marcus, she's gone, she's fled.--
|
|
Sirs, take you to your tools. You, cousins, shall
|
|
Go sound the ocean and cast your nets;
|
|
Happily you may catch her in the sea;
|
|
Yet there's as little justice as at land.
|
|
No; Publius and Sempronius, you must do it.
|
|
'Tis you must dig with mattock and with spade,
|
|
And pierce the inmost center of the Earth.
|
|
Then, when you come to Pluto's region,
|
|
I pray you, deliver him this petition.
|
|
Tell him it is for justice and for aid,
|
|
And that it comes from old Andronicus,
|
|
Shaken with sorrows in ungrateful Rome.
|
|
Ah, Rome! Well, well, I made thee miserable
|
|
What time I threw the people's suffrages
|
|
On him that thus doth tyrannize o'er me.
|
|
Go, get you gone, and pray be careful all,
|
|
And leave you not a man-of-war unsearched.
|
|
This wicked emperor may have shipped her hence,
|
|
And, kinsmen, then we may go pipe for justice.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
O Publius, is not this a heavy case
|
|
To see thy noble uncle thus distract?
|
|
|
|
PUBLIUS
|
|
Therefore, my lords, it highly us concerns
|
|
By day and night t' attend him carefully,
|
|
And feed his humor kindly as we may,
|
|
Till time beget some careful remedy.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
Kinsmen, his sorrows are past remedy
|
|
But ...
|
|
Join with the Goths, and with revengeful war
|
|
Take wreak on Rome for this ingratitude,
|
|
And vengeance on the traitor Saturnine.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
Publius, how now? How now, my masters?
|
|
What, have you met with her?
|
|
|
|
PUBLIUS
|
|
No, my good lord, but Pluto sends you word,
|
|
If you will have Revenge from hell, you shall.
|
|
Marry, for Justice, she is so employed,
|
|
He thinks, with Jove in heaven, or somewhere else,
|
|
So that perforce you must needs stay a time.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
He doth me wrong to feed me with delays.
|
|
I'll dive into the burning lake below
|
|
And pull her out of Acheron by the heels.
|
|
Marcus, we are but shrubs, no cedars we,
|
|
No big-boned men framed of the Cyclops' size,
|
|
But metal, Marcus, steel to the very back,
|
|
Yet wrung with wrongs more than our backs can
|
|
bear;
|
|
And sith there's no justice in Earth nor hell,
|
|
We will solicit heaven and move the gods
|
|
To send down Justice for to wreak our wrongs.
|
|
Come, to this gear. You are a good archer, Marcus.
|
|
[He gives them the arrows.]
|
|
"Ad Jovem," that's for you;--here, "Ad Apollinem";--
|
|
"Ad Martem," that's for myself;--
|
|
Here, boy, "to Pallas";--here, "to Mercury";--
|
|
"To Saturn," Caius--not to Saturnine!
|
|
You were as good to shoot against the wind.
|
|
To it, boy!--Marcus, loose when I bid.
|
|
Of my word, I have written to effect;
|
|
There's not a god left unsolicited.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
Kinsmen, shoot all your shafts into the court.
|
|
We will afflict the Emperor in his pride.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
Now, masters, draw. [(They shoot.)] O, well said,
|
|
Lucius!
|
|
Good boy, in Virgo's lap! Give it Pallas.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
My lord, I aim a mile beyond the moon.
|
|
Your letter is with Jupiter by this.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
Ha, ha! Publius, Publius, what hast thou done?
|
|
See, see, thou hast shot off one of Taurus' horns!
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
This was the sport, my lord; when Publius shot,
|
|
The Bull, being galled, gave Aries such a knock
|
|
That down fell both the Ram's horns in the court,
|
|
And who should find them but the Empress' villain?
|
|
She laughed and told the Moor he should not choose
|
|
But give them to his master for a present.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
Why, there it goes. God give his Lordship joy!
|
|
|
|
[Enter a country fellow with a basket and two
|
|
pigeons in it.]
|
|
|
|
News, news from heaven! Marcus, the post is
|
|
come.--
|
|
Sirrah, what tidings? Have you any letters?
|
|
Shall I have Justice? What says Jupiter?
|
|
|
|
COUNTRY FELLOW Ho, the gibbet-maker? He says that
|
|
he hath taken them down again, for the man must
|
|
not be hanged till the next week.
|
|
|
|
TITUS But what says Jupiter, I ask thee?
|
|
|
|
COUNTRY FELLOW Alas, sir, I know not Jubiter; I never
|
|
drank with him in all my life.
|
|
|
|
TITUS Why, villain, art not thou the carrier?
|
|
|
|
COUNTRY FELLOW Ay, of my pigeons, sir; nothing else.
|
|
|
|
TITUS Why, didst thou not come from heaven?
|
|
|
|
COUNTRY FELLOW From heaven? Alas, sir, I never
|
|
came there. God forbid I should be so bold to press
|
|
to heaven in my young days. Why, I am going with
|
|
my pigeons to the tribunal plebs, to take up a matter
|
|
of brawl betwixt my uncle and one of the Emperal's
|
|
men.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS, [to Titus] Why, sir, that is as fit as can be to
|
|
serve for your oration; and let him deliver the pigeons
|
|
to the Emperor from you.
|
|
|
|
TITUS Tell me, can you deliver an oration to the Emperor
|
|
with a grace?
|
|
|
|
COUNTRY FELLOW Nay, truly, sir, I could never say
|
|
grace in all my life.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
Sirrah, come hither. Make no more ado,
|
|
But give your pigeons to the Emperor.
|
|
By me thou shalt have justice at his hands.
|
|
Hold, hold; meanwhile here's money for thy
|
|
charges.--Give me pen and ink.--Sirrah, can you
|
|
with a grace deliver up a supplication?
|
|
[He writes.]
|
|
|
|
COUNTRY FELLOW Ay, sir.
|
|
|
|
TITUS Then here is a supplication for you, and when
|
|
you come to him, at the first approach you must
|
|
kneel, then kiss his foot, then deliver up your pigeons,
|
|
and then look for your reward. I'll be at
|
|
hand, sir. See you do it bravely.
|
|
[He hands him a paper.]
|
|
|
|
COUNTRY FELLOW I warrant you, sir. Let me alone.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
Sirrah, hast thou a knife? Come, let me see it.--
|
|
[He takes the knife and gives it to Marcus.]
|
|
Here, Marcus, fold it in the oration,
|
|
For thou hast made it like an humble suppliant.--
|
|
And when thou hast given it to the Emperor,
|
|
Knock at my door and tell me what he says.
|
|
|
|
COUNTRY FELLOW God be with you, sir. I will.
|
|
[He exits.]
|
|
|
|
TITUS Come, Marcus, let us go.--Publius, follow me.
|
|
[They exit.]
|
|
|
|
Scene 4
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter Emperor Saturninus and Empress Tamora
|
|
and her two sons Chiron and Demetrius, with
|
|
Attendants. The Emperor brings the arrows in his
|
|
hand that Titus shot at him.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
SATURNINUS
|
|
Why, lords, what wrongs are these! Was ever seen
|
|
An emperor in Rome thus overborne,
|
|
Troubled, confronted thus, and for the extent
|
|
Of equal justice, used in such contempt?
|
|
My lords, you know, as know the mightful gods,
|
|
However these disturbers of our peace
|
|
Buzz in the people's ears, there naught hath passed
|
|
But even with law against the willful sons
|
|
Of old Andronicus. And what an if
|
|
His sorrows have so overwhelmed his wits?
|
|
Shall we be thus afflicted in his wreaks,
|
|
His fits, his frenzy, and his bitterness?
|
|
And now he writes to heaven for his redress!
|
|
See, here's "to Jove," and this "to Mercury,"
|
|
This "to Apollo," this to the god of war.
|
|
Sweet scrolls to fly about the streets of Rome!
|
|
What's this but libeling against the Senate
|
|
And blazoning our unjustice everywhere?
|
|
A goodly humor is it not, my lords?
|
|
As who would say, in Rome no justice were.
|
|
But if I live, his feigned ecstasies
|
|
Shall be no shelter to these outrages,
|
|
But he and his shall know that justice lives
|
|
In Saturninus' health, whom, if he sleep,
|
|
He'll so awake as he in fury shall
|
|
Cut off the proud'st conspirator that lives.
|
|
|
|
TAMORA
|
|
My gracious lord, my lovely Saturnine,
|
|
Lord of my life, commander of my thoughts,
|
|
Calm thee, and bear the faults of Titus' age,
|
|
Th' effects of sorrow for his valiant sons,
|
|
Whose loss hath pierced him deep and scarred his
|
|
heart,
|
|
And rather comfort his distressed plight
|
|
Than prosecute the meanest or the best
|
|
For these contempts. [(Aside.)] Why, thus it shall
|
|
become
|
|
High-witted Tamora to gloze with all.
|
|
But, Titus, I have touched thee to the quick.
|
|
Thy lifeblood out, if Aaron now be wise,
|
|
Then is all safe, the anchor in the port.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Country Fellow.]
|
|
|
|
How now, good fellow, wouldst thou speak with us?
|
|
|
|
COUNTRY FELLOW Yea, forsooth, an your Mistresship be
|
|
emperial.
|
|
|
|
TAMORA
|
|
Empress I am, but yonder sits the Emperor.
|
|
|
|
COUNTRY FELLOW 'Tis he!--God and Saint Stephen
|
|
give you good e'en. I have brought you a letter and
|
|
a couple of pigeons here.
|
|
[Saturninus reads the letter.]
|
|
|
|
SATURNINUS
|
|
Go, take him away, and hang him presently.
|
|
|
|
COUNTRY FELLOW How much money must I have?
|
|
|
|
TAMORA Come, sirrah, you must be hanged.
|
|
|
|
COUNTRY FELLOW Hanged! By 'r Lady, then I have
|
|
brought up a neck to a fair end.
|
|
[He exits with Attendants.]
|
|
|
|
SATURNINUS
|
|
Despiteful and intolerable wrongs!
|
|
Shall I endure this monstrous villainy?
|
|
I know from whence this same device proceeds.
|
|
May this be borne?--as if his traitorous sons,
|
|
That died by law for murder of our brother,
|
|
Have by my means been butchered wrongfully!
|
|
Go, drag the villain hither by the hair.
|
|
Nor age nor honor shall shape privilege.
|
|
For this proud mock, I'll be thy slaughterman,
|
|
Sly, frantic wretch, that holp'st to make me great
|
|
In hope thyself should govern Rome and me.
|
|
|
|
[Enter nuntius, Aemilius.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
SATURNINUS What news with thee, Aemilius?
|
|
|
|
AEMILIUS
|
|
Arm, my lords! Rome never had more cause.
|
|
The Goths have gathered head, and with a power
|
|
Of high-resolved men bent to the spoil,
|
|
They hither march amain under conduct
|
|
Of Lucius, son to old Andronicus,
|
|
Who threats, in course of this revenge, to do
|
|
As much as ever Coriolanus did.
|
|
|
|
SATURNINUS
|
|
Is warlike Lucius general of the Goths?
|
|
These tidings nip me, and I hang the head
|
|
As flowers with frost or grass beat down with storms.
|
|
Ay, now begins our sorrows to approach.
|
|
'Tis he the common people love so much.
|
|
Myself hath often heard them say,
|
|
When I have walked like a private man,
|
|
That Lucius' banishment was wrongfully,
|
|
And they have wished that Lucius were their emperor.
|
|
|
|
TAMORA
|
|
Why should you fear? Is not your city strong?
|
|
|
|
SATURNINUS
|
|
Ay, but the citizens favor Lucius
|
|
And will revolt from me to succor him.
|
|
|
|
TAMORA
|
|
King, be thy thoughts imperious like thy name.
|
|
Is the sun dimmed that gnats do fly in it?
|
|
The eagle suffers little birds to sing
|
|
And is not careful what they mean thereby,
|
|
Knowing that with the shadow of his wings
|
|
He can at pleasure stint their melody.
|
|
Even so mayst thou the giddy men of Rome.
|
|
Then cheer thy spirit, for know, thou emperor,
|
|
I will enchant the old Andronicus
|
|
With words more sweet and yet more dangerous
|
|
Than baits to fish or honey-stalks to sheep,
|
|
Whenas the one is wounded with the bait,
|
|
The other rotted with delicious feed.
|
|
|
|
SATURNINUS
|
|
But he will not entreat his son for us.
|
|
|
|
TAMORA
|
|
If Tamora entreat him, then he will,
|
|
For I can smooth and fill his aged ears
|
|
With golden promises, that were his heart
|
|
Almost impregnable, his old ears deaf,
|
|
Yet should both ear and heart obey my tongue.
|
|
[To Aemilius.] Go thou before to be our ambassador.
|
|
Say that the Emperor requests a parley
|
|
Of warlike Lucius, and appoint the meeting
|
|
Even at his father's house, the old Andronicus.
|
|
|
|
SATURNINUS
|
|
Aemilius, do this message honorably,
|
|
And if he stand in hostage for his safety,
|
|
Bid him demand what pledge will please him best.
|
|
|
|
AEMILIUS
|
|
Your bidding shall I do effectually.
|
|
[He exits.]
|
|
|
|
TAMORA
|
|
Now will I to that old Andronicus
|
|
And temper him with all the art I have
|
|
To pluck proud Lucius from the warlike Goths.
|
|
And now, sweet emperor, be blithe again,
|
|
And bury all thy fear in my devices.
|
|
|
|
SATURNINUS
|
|
Then go successantly, and plead to him.
|
|
[They exit.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
ACT 5
|
|
=====
|
|
|
|
Scene 1
|
|
=======
|
|
[Flourish. Enter Lucius with an army of Goths, with
|
|
Drums and Soldiers.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS
|
|
Approved warriors and my faithful friends,
|
|
I have received letters from great Rome
|
|
Which signifies what hate they bear their emperor
|
|
And how desirous of our sight they are.
|
|
Therefore, great lords, be as your titles witness,
|
|
Imperious, and impatient of your wrongs,
|
|
And wherein Rome hath done you any scathe,
|
|
Let him make treble satisfaction.
|
|
|
|
FIRST GOTH
|
|
Brave slip sprung from the great Andronicus,
|
|
Whose name was once our terror, now our comfort,
|
|
Whose high exploits and honorable deeds
|
|
Ingrateful Rome requites with foul contempt,
|
|
Be bold in us. We'll follow where thou lead'st,
|
|
Like stinging bees in hottest summer's day
|
|
Led by their master to the flowered fields,
|
|
And be avenged on cursed Tamora.
|
|
|
|
GOTHS
|
|
And as he saith, so say we all with him.
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS
|
|
I humbly thank him, and I thank you all.
|
|
But who comes here, led by a lusty Goth?
|
|
|
|
[Enter a Goth, leading of Aaron with his child in his arms.]
|
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|
|
|
|
SECOND GOTH
|
|
Renowned Lucius, from our troops I strayed
|
|
To gaze upon a ruinous monastery,
|
|
And as I earnestly did fix mine eye
|
|
Upon the wasted building, suddenly
|
|
I heard a child cry underneath a wall.
|
|
I made unto the noise, when soon I heard
|
|
The crying babe controlled with this discourse:
|
|
"Peace, tawny slave, half me and half thy dame!
|
|
Did not thy hue bewray whose brat thou art,
|
|
Had nature lent thee but thy mother's look,
|
|
Villain, thou mightst have been an emperor.
|
|
But where the bull and cow are both milk white,
|
|
They never do beget a coal-black calf.
|
|
Peace, villain, peace!"--even thus he rates the babe--
|
|
"For I must bear thee to a trusty Goth
|
|
Who, when he knows thou art the Empress' babe,
|
|
Will hold thee dearly for thy mother's sake."
|
|
With this, my weapon drawn, I rushed upon him,
|
|
Surprised him suddenly, and brought him hither
|
|
To use as you think needful of the man.
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LUCIUS
|
|
O worthy Goth, this is the incarnate devil
|
|
That robbed Andronicus of his good hand;
|
|
This is the pearl that pleased your empress' eye;
|
|
And here's the base fruit of her burning lust.--
|
|
Say, wall-eyed slave, whither wouldst thou convey
|
|
This growing image of thy fiendlike face?
|
|
Why dost not speak? What, deaf? Not a word?--
|
|
A halter, soldiers! Hang him on this tree,
|
|
And by his side his fruit of bastardy.
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|
AARON
|
|
Touch not the boy. He is of royal blood.
|
|
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|
LUCIUS
|
|
Too like the sire for ever being good.
|
|
First hang the child, that he may see it sprawl,
|
|
A sight to vex the father's soul withal.
|
|
Get me a ladder.
|
|
[A ladder is brought, which Aaron is made to climb.]
|
|
|
|
AARON Lucius, save the child
|
|
And bear it from me to the Empress.
|
|
If thou do this, I'll show thee wondrous things
|
|
That highly may advantage thee to hear.
|
|
If thou wilt not, befall what may befall,
|
|
I'll speak no more but "Vengeance rot you all!"
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS
|
|
Say on, and if it please me which thou speak'st,
|
|
Thy child shall live, and I will see it nourished.
|
|
|
|
AARON
|
|
And if it please thee? Why, assure thee, Lucius,
|
|
'Twill vex thy soul to hear what I shall speak;
|
|
For I must talk of murders, rapes, and massacres,
|
|
Acts of black night, abominable deeds,
|
|
Complots of mischief, treason, villainies,
|
|
Ruthful to hear, yet piteously performed.
|
|
And this shall all be buried in my death,
|
|
Unless thou swear to me my child shall live.
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS
|
|
Tell on thy mind. I say thy child shall live.
|
|
|
|
AARON
|
|
Swear that he shall, and then I will begin.
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS
|
|
Who should I swear by? Thou believest no god.
|
|
That granted, how canst thou believe an oath?
|
|
|
|
AARON
|
|
What if I do not? As indeed I do not.
|
|
Yet, for I know thou art religious
|
|
And hast a thing within thee called conscience,
|
|
With twenty popish tricks and ceremonies
|
|
Which I have seen thee careful to observe,
|
|
Therefore I urge thy oath; for that I know
|
|
An idiot holds his bauble for a god
|
|
And keeps the oath which by that god he swears,
|
|
To that I'll urge him. Therefore thou shalt vow
|
|
By that same god, what god soe'er it be
|
|
That thou adorest and hast in reverence,
|
|
To save my boy, to nourish and bring him up,
|
|
Or else I will discover naught to thee.
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS
|
|
Even by my god I swear to thee I will.
|
|
|
|
AARON
|
|
First know thou, I begot him on the Empress.
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS
|
|
O, most insatiate and luxurious woman!
|
|
|
|
AARON
|
|
Tut, Lucius, this was but a deed of charity
|
|
To that which thou shalt hear of me anon.
|
|
'Twas her two sons that murdered Bassianus.
|
|
They cut thy sister's tongue, and ravished her,
|
|
And cut her hands, and trimmed her as thou sawest.
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS
|
|
O detestable villain, call'st thou that trimming?
|
|
|
|
AARON
|
|
Why, she was washed, and cut, and trimmed; and
|
|
'twas
|
|
Trim sport for them which had the doing of it.
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS
|
|
O, barbarous beastly villains, like thyself!
|
|
|
|
AARON
|
|
Indeed, I was their tutor to instruct them.
|
|
That codding spirit had they from their mother,
|
|
As sure a card as ever won the set;
|
|
That bloody mind I think they learned of me,
|
|
As true a dog as ever fought at head.
|
|
Well, let my deeds be witness of my worth.
|
|
I trained thy brethren to that guileful hole
|
|
Where the dead corpse of Bassianus lay.
|
|
I wrote the letter that thy father found,
|
|
And hid the gold within that letter mentioned,
|
|
Confederate with the Queen and her two sons.
|
|
And what not done that thou hast cause to rue,
|
|
Wherein I had no stroke of mischief in it?
|
|
I played the cheater for thy father's hand,
|
|
And, when I had it, drew myself apart
|
|
And almost broke my heart with extreme laughter.
|
|
I pried me through the crevice of a wall
|
|
When, for his hand, he had his two sons' heads,
|
|
Beheld his tears, and laughed so heartily
|
|
That both mine eyes were rainy like to his.
|
|
And when I told the Empress of this sport,
|
|
She sounded almost at my pleasing tale,
|
|
And for my tidings gave me twenty kisses.
|
|
|
|
GOTH
|
|
What, canst thou say all this and never blush?
|
|
|
|
AARON
|
|
Ay, like a black dog, as the saying is.
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS
|
|
Art thou not sorry for these heinous deeds?
|
|
|
|
AARON
|
|
Ay, that I had not done a thousand more.
|
|
Even now I curse the day--and yet, I think,
|
|
Few come within the compass of my curse--
|
|
Wherein I did not some notorious ill,
|
|
As kill a man, or else devise his death;
|
|
Ravish a maid or plot the way to do it;
|
|
Accuse some innocent and forswear myself;
|
|
Set deadly enmity between two friends;
|
|
Make poor men's cattle break their necks;
|
|
Set fire on barns and haystalks in the night,
|
|
And bid the owners quench them with their tears.
|
|
Oft have I digged up dead men from their graves
|
|
And set them upright at their dear friends' door,
|
|
Even when their sorrows almost was forgot,
|
|
And on their skins, as on the bark of trees,
|
|
Have with my knife carved in Roman letters
|
|
"Let not your sorrow die, though I am dead."
|
|
But I have done a thousand dreadful things
|
|
As willingly as one would kill a fly,
|
|
And nothing grieves me heartily indeed
|
|
But that I cannot do ten thousand more.
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS
|
|
Bring down the devil, for he must not die
|
|
So sweet a death as hanging presently.
|
|
[Aaron is brought down from the ladder.]
|
|
|
|
AARON
|
|
If there be devils, would I were a devil,
|
|
To live and burn in everlasting fire,
|
|
So I might have your company in hell
|
|
But to torment you with my bitter tongue.
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS
|
|
Sirs, stop his mouth, and let him speak no more.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Aemilius.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
GOTH
|
|
My lord, there is a messenger from Rome
|
|
Desires to be admitted to your presence.
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS Let him come near. [Aemilius comes forward.]
|
|
Welcome, Aemilius. What's the news from Rome?
|
|
|
|
AEMILIUS
|
|
Lord Lucius, and you princes of the Goths,
|
|
The Roman Emperor greets you all by me;
|
|
And, for he understands you are in arms,
|
|
He craves a parley at your father's house,
|
|
Willing you to demand your hostages,
|
|
And they shall be immediately delivered.
|
|
|
|
GOTH What says our general?
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS
|
|
Aemilius, let the Emperor give his pledges
|
|
Unto my father and my uncle Marcus,
|
|
And we will come. March away.
|
|
[They exit.]
|
|
|
|
Scene 2
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter Tamora and her two sons, disguised.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
TAMORA
|
|
Thus, in this strange and sad habiliment
|
|
I will encounter with Andronicus
|
|
And say I am Revenge, sent from below
|
|
To join with him and right his heinous wrongs.
|
|
Knock at his study, where they say he keeps
|
|
To ruminate strange plots of dire revenge.
|
|
Tell him Revenge is come to join with him
|
|
And work confusion on his enemies.
|
|
|
|
[They knock, and Titus (above) opens his study door.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
Who doth molest my contemplation?
|
|
Is it your trick to make me ope the door,
|
|
That so my sad decrees may fly away
|
|
And all my study be to no effect?
|
|
You are deceived, for what I mean to do,
|
|
See here, in bloody lines I have set down,
|
|
And what is written shall be executed.
|
|
|
|
TAMORA
|
|
Titus, I am come to talk with thee.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
No, not a word. How can I grace my talk,
|
|
Wanting a hand to give it action?
|
|
Thou hast the odds of me; therefore, no more.
|
|
|
|
TAMORA
|
|
If thou didst know me, thou wouldst talk with me.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
I am not mad. I know thee well enough.
|
|
Witness this wretched stump; witness these crimson
|
|
lines;
|
|
Witness these trenches made by grief and care;
|
|
Witness the tiring day and heavy night;
|
|
Witness all sorrow that I know thee well
|
|
For our proud empress, mighty Tamora.
|
|
Is not thy coming for my other hand?
|
|
|
|
TAMORA
|
|
Know, thou sad man, I am not Tamora.
|
|
She is thy enemy, and I thy friend.
|
|
I am Revenge, sent from th' infernal kingdom
|
|
To ease the gnawing vulture of thy mind
|
|
By working wreakful vengeance on thy foes.
|
|
Come down and welcome me to this world's light.
|
|
Confer with me of murder and of death.
|
|
There's not a hollow cave or lurking-place,
|
|
No vast obscurity or misty vale
|
|
Where bloody murder or detested rape
|
|
Can couch for fear but I will find them out,
|
|
And in their ears tell them my dreadful name,
|
|
Revenge, which makes the foul offender quake.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
Art thou Revenge? And art thou sent to me
|
|
To be a torment to mine enemies?
|
|
|
|
TAMORA
|
|
I am. Therefore come down and welcome me.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
Do me some service ere I come to thee.
|
|
Lo, by thy side, where Rape and Murder stands,
|
|
Now give some surance that thou art Revenge:
|
|
Stab them, or tear them on thy chariot wheels,
|
|
And then I'll come and be thy wagoner,
|
|
And whirl along with thee about the globe,
|
|
Provide thee two proper palfreys, black as jet,
|
|
To hale thy vengeful wagon swift away,
|
|
And find out murderers in their guilty caves.
|
|
And when thy car is loaden with their heads,
|
|
I will dismount and by thy wagon wheel
|
|
Trot like a servile footman all day long,
|
|
Even from Hyperion's rising in the east
|
|
Until his very downfall in the sea.
|
|
And day by day I'll do this heavy task,
|
|
So thou destroy Rapine and Murder there.
|
|
|
|
TAMORA
|
|
These are my ministers and come with me.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
Are they thy ministers? What are they called?
|
|
|
|
TAMORA
|
|
Rape and Murder; therefore called so
|
|
'Cause they take vengeance of such kind of men.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
Good Lord, how like the Empress' sons they are,
|
|
And you the Empress! But we worldly men
|
|
Have miserable, mad, mistaking eyes.
|
|
O sweet Revenge, now do I come to thee,
|
|
And if one arm's embracement will content thee,
|
|
I will embrace thee in it by and by.
|
|
[He exits above.]
|
|
|
|
TAMORA
|
|
This closing with him fits his lunacy.
|
|
Whate'er I forge to feed his brainsick humors,
|
|
Do you uphold and maintain in your speeches,
|
|
For now he firmly takes me for Revenge;
|
|
And, being credulous in this mad thought,
|
|
I'll make him send for Lucius his son;
|
|
And whilst I at a banquet hold him sure,
|
|
I'll find some cunning practice out of hand
|
|
To scatter and disperse the giddy Goths,
|
|
Or, at the least, make them his enemies.
|
|
See, here he comes, and I must ply my theme.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Titus.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
Long have I been forlorn, and all for thee.
|
|
Welcome, dread Fury, to my woeful house.--
|
|
Rapine and Murder, you are welcome too.
|
|
How like the Empress and her sons you are!
|
|
Well are you fitted, had you but a Moor.
|
|
Could not all hell afford you such a devil?
|
|
For well I wot the Empress never wags
|
|
But in her company there is a Moor;
|
|
And, would you represent our queen aright,
|
|
It were convenient you had such a devil.
|
|
But welcome as you are. What shall we do?
|
|
|
|
TAMORA
|
|
What wouldst thou have us do, Andronicus?
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS
|
|
Show me a murderer; I'll deal with him.
|
|
|
|
CHIRON
|
|
Show me a villain that hath done a rape,
|
|
And I am sent to be revenged on him.
|
|
|
|
TAMORA
|
|
Show me a thousand that hath done thee wrong,
|
|
And I will be revenged on them all.
|
|
|
|
TITUS, [to Demetrius]
|
|
Look round about the wicked streets of Rome,
|
|
And when thou findst a man that's like thyself,
|
|
Good Murder, stab him; he's a murderer.
|
|
[To Chiron.] Go thou with him, and when it is thy
|
|
hap
|
|
To find another that is like to thee,
|
|
Good Rapine, stab him; he is a ravisher.
|
|
[To Tamora.] Go thou with them; and in the
|
|
Emperor's court
|
|
There is a queen attended by a Moor.
|
|
Well shalt thou know her by thine own proportion,
|
|
For up and down she doth resemble thee.
|
|
I pray thee, do on them some violent death.
|
|
They have been violent to me and mine.
|
|
|
|
TAMORA
|
|
Well hast thou lessoned us; this shall we do.
|
|
But would it please thee, good Andronicus,
|
|
To send for Lucius, thy thrice-valiant son,
|
|
Who leads towards Rome a band of warlike Goths,
|
|
And bid him come and banquet at thy house?
|
|
When he is here, even at thy solemn feast,
|
|
I will bring in the Empress and her sons,
|
|
The Emperor himself, and all thy foes,
|
|
And at thy mercy shall they stoop and kneel,
|
|
And on them shalt thou ease thy angry heart.
|
|
What says Andronicus to this device?
|
|
|
|
TITUS, [calling]
|
|
Marcus, my brother, 'tis sad Titus calls.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Marcus.]
|
|
|
|
Go, gentle Marcus, to thy nephew Lucius.
|
|
Thou shalt inquire him out among the Goths.
|
|
Bid him repair to me and bring with him
|
|
Some of the chiefest princes of the Goths.
|
|
Bid him encamp his soldiers where they are.
|
|
Tell him the Emperor and the Empress too
|
|
Feast at my house, and he shall feast with them.
|
|
This do thou for my love, and so let him,
|
|
As he regards his aged father's life.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
This will I do, and soon return again. [Marcus exits.]
|
|
|
|
TAMORA
|
|
Now will I hence about thy business
|
|
And take my ministers along with me.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
Nay, nay, let Rape and Murder stay with me,
|
|
Or else I'll call my brother back again
|
|
And cleave to no revenge but Lucius.
|
|
|
|
TAMORA, [aside to Chiron and Demetrius]
|
|
What say you, boys? Will you abide with him
|
|
Whiles I go tell my lord the Emperor
|
|
How I have governed our determined jest?
|
|
Yield to his humor, smooth and speak him fair,
|
|
And tarry with him till I turn again.
|
|
|
|
TITUS, [aside]
|
|
I knew them all, though they supposed me mad,
|
|
And will o'erreach them in their own devices--
|
|
A pair of cursed hellhounds and their dam!
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS, [aside to Tamora]
|
|
Madam, depart at pleasure. Leave us here.
|
|
|
|
TAMORA
|
|
Farewell, Andronicus. Revenge now goes
|
|
To lay a complot to betray thy foes.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
I know thou dost; and, sweet Revenge, farewell.
|
|
[Tamora exits.]
|
|
|
|
CHIRON
|
|
Tell us, old man, how shall we be employed?
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
Tut, I have work enough for you to do.--
|
|
Publius, come hither; Caius, and Valentine.
|
|
|
|
[Publius, Caius, and Valentine enter.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
PUBLIUS What is your will?
|
|
|
|
TITUS Know you these two?
|
|
|
|
PUBLIUS
|
|
The Empress' sons, I take them--Chiron, Demetrius.
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
Fie, Publius, fie, thou art too much deceived.
|
|
The one is Murder, and Rape is the other's name;
|
|
And therefore bind them, gentle Publius.
|
|
Caius and Valentine, lay hands on them.
|
|
Oft have you heard me wish for such an hour,
|
|
And now I find it. Therefore bind them sure,
|
|
And stop their mouths if they begin to cry.
|
|
[Titus exits.]
|
|
|
|
CHIRON
|
|
Villains, forbear! We are the Empress' sons.
|
|
|
|
PUBLIUS
|
|
And therefore do we what we are commanded.--
|
|
Stop close their mouths; let them not speak a word.
|
|
Is he sure bound? Look that you bind them fast.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Titus Andronicus with a knife, and Lavinia
|
|
with a basin.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
TITUS
|
|
Come, come, Lavinia. Look, thy foes are bound.--
|
|
Sirs, stop their mouths. Let them not speak to me,
|
|
But let them hear what fearful words I utter.--
|
|
O villains, Chiron and Demetrius!
|
|
Here stands the spring whom you have stained with
|
|
mud,
|
|
This goodly summer with your winter mixed.
|
|
You killed her husband, and for that vile fault
|
|
Two of her brothers were condemned to death,
|
|
My hand cut off and made a merry jest,
|
|
Both her sweet hands, her tongue, and that more dear
|
|
Than hands or tongue, her spotless chastity,
|
|
Inhuman traitors, you constrained and forced.
|
|
What would you say if I should let you speak?
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Villains, for shame you could not beg for grace.
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|
Hark, wretches, how I mean to martyr you.
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|
This one hand yet is left to cut your throats,
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|
Whiles that Lavinia 'tween her stumps doth hold
|
|
The basin that receives your guilty blood.
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|
You know your mother means to feast with me,
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|
And calls herself Revenge, and thinks me mad.
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|
Hark, villains, I will grind your bones to dust,
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|
And with your blood and it I'll make a paste,
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|
And of the paste a coffin I will rear,
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|
And make two pasties of your shameful heads,
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|
And bid that strumpet, your unhallowed dam,
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|
Like to the earth swallow her own increase.
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|
This is the feast that I have bid her to,
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|
And this the banquet she shall surfeit on;
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|
For worse than Philomel you used my daughter,
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|
And worse than Procne I will be revenged.
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|
And now prepare your throats.--Lavinia, come,
|
|
Receive the blood. [He cuts their throats.]
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|
And when that they are dead,
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|
Let me go grind their bones to powder small,
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|
And with this hateful liquor temper it,
|
|
And in that paste let their vile heads be baked.
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|
Come, come, be everyone officious
|
|
To make this banquet, which I wish may prove
|
|
More stern and bloody than the Centaurs' feast.
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|
So. Now bring them in, for I'll play the cook
|
|
And see them ready against their mother comes.
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[They exit, carrying the dead bodies.]
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Scene 3
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=======
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[Enter Lucius, Marcus, and the Goths, with Aaron,
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Guards, and an Attendant carrying the baby.]
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LUCIUS
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Uncle Marcus, since 'tis my father's mind
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That I repair to Rome, I am content.
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FIRST GOTH
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And ours with thine, befall what fortune will.
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LUCIUS
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Good uncle, take you in this barbarous Moor,
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This ravenous tiger, this accursed devil.
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Let him receive no sust'nance. Fetter him
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|
Till he be brought unto the Empress' face
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|
For testimony of her foul proceedings.
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|
And see the ambush of our friends be strong.
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|
I fear the Emperor means no good to us.
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AARON
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Some devil whisper curses in my ear
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And prompt me that my tongue may utter forth
|
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The venomous malice of my swelling heart.
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LUCIUS
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Away, inhuman dog, unhallowed slave!--
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Sirs, help our uncle to convey him in.
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[Sound trumpets.]
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The trumpets show the Emperor is at hand.
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[Guards and Aaron exit.]
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|
[Enter Emperor Saturninus and Empress Tamora
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with Aemilius, Tribunes, Attendants, and others.]
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SATURNINUS
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What, hath the firmament more suns than one?
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LUCIUS
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What boots it thee to call thyself a sun?
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MARCUS
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Rome's emperor, and nephew, break the parle.
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|
These quarrels must be quietly debated.
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|
The feast is ready which the careful Titus
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|
Hath ordained to an honorable end,
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|
For peace, for love, for league and good to Rome.
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|
Please you therefore draw nigh and take your places.
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SATURNINUS Marcus, we will.
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[Trumpets sounding, enter Titus like a cook, placing the
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dishes, with young Lucius and others, and Lavinia
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|
with a veil over her face.]
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TITUS
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Welcome, my lord;--welcome, dread queen;--
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Welcome, you warlike Goths;--welcome, Lucius;--
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|
And welcome, all. Although the cheer be poor,
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|
'Twill fill your stomachs. Please you eat of it.
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|
[They begin to eat.]
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SATURNINUS
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Why art thou thus attired, Andronicus?
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TITUS
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Because I would be sure to have all well
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|
To entertain your Highness and your empress.
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TAMORA
|
|
We are beholding to you, good Andronicus.
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TITUS
|
|
An if your Highness knew my heart, you were.--
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|
My lord the Emperor, resolve me this:
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|
Was it well done of rash Virginius
|
|
To slay his daughter with his own right hand
|
|
Because she was enforced, stained, and deflowered?
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SATURNINUS It was, Andronicus.
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TITUS Your reason, mighty lord?
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SATURNINUS
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|
Because the girl should not survive her shame,
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|
And by her presence still renew his sorrows.
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TITUS
|
|
A reason mighty, strong, and effectual;
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|
A pattern, precedent, and lively warrant
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|
For me, most wretched, to perform the like.
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|
Die, die, Lavinia, and thy shame with thee,
|
|
And with thy shame thy father's sorrow die.
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|
[He kills Lavinia.]
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SATURNINUS
|
|
What hast thou done, unnatural and unkind?
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TITUS
|
|
Killed her for whom my tears have made me blind.
|
|
I am as woeful as Virginius was,
|
|
And have a thousand times more cause than he
|
|
To do this outrage, and it now is done.
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SATURNINUS
|
|
What, was she ravished? Tell who did the deed.
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TITUS
|
|
Will 't please you eat?--Will 't please your Highness
|
|
feed?
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TAMORA
|
|
Why hast thou slain thine only daughter thus?
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TITUS
|
|
Not I; 'twas Chiron and Demetrius.
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|
They ravished her and cut away her tongue,
|
|
And they, 'twas they, that did her all this wrong.
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SATURNINUS
|
|
Go fetch them hither to us presently.
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TITUS
|
|
Why, there they are, both baked in this pie,
|
|
Whereof their mother daintily hath fed,
|
|
Eating the flesh that she herself hath bred.
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|
'Tis true, 'tis true! Witness my knife's sharp point.
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|
[He stabs the Empress.]
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SATURNINUS
|
|
Die, frantic wretch, for this accursed deed.
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|
[He kills Titus.]
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LUCIUS
|
|
Can the son's eye behold his father bleed?
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|
[He kills Saturninus.]
|
|
There's meed for meed, death for a deadly deed.
|
|
[A great tumult. Lucius, Marcus, and
|
|
others go aloft to the upper stage.]
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MARCUS
|
|
You sad-faced men, people and sons of Rome,
|
|
By uproars severed as a flight of fowl
|
|
Scattered by winds and high tempestuous gusts,
|
|
O, let me teach you how to knit again
|
|
This scattered corn into one mutual sheaf,
|
|
These broken limbs again into one body,
|
|
Lest Rome herself be bane unto herself,
|
|
And she whom mighty kingdoms curtsy to,
|
|
Like a forlorn and desperate castaway,
|
|
Do shameful execution on herself.
|
|
But if my frosty signs and chaps of age,
|
|
Grave witnesses of true experience,
|
|
Cannot induce you to attend my words,
|
|
[He turns to Lucius.]
|
|
Speak, Rome's dear friend, as erst our ancestor,
|
|
When with his solemn tongue he did discourse
|
|
To lovesick Dido's sad-attending ear
|
|
The story of that baleful burning night
|
|
When subtle Greeks surprised King Priam's Troy.
|
|
Tell us what Sinon hath bewitched our ears,
|
|
Or who hath brought the fatal engine in
|
|
That gives our Troy, our Rome, the civil wound.--
|
|
My heart is not compact of flint nor steel,
|
|
Nor can I utter all our bitter grief,
|
|
But floods of tears will drown my oratory
|
|
And break my utterance even in the time
|
|
When it should move you to attend me most
|
|
And force you to commiseration.
|
|
Here's Rome's young captain. Let him tell the tale,
|
|
While I stand by and weep to hear him speak.
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|
|
|
LUCIUS
|
|
Then, gracious auditory, be it known to you
|
|
That Chiron and the damned Demetrius
|
|
Were they that murdered our emperor's brother,
|
|
And they it were that ravished our sister.
|
|
For their fell faults our brothers were beheaded,
|
|
Our father's tears despised, and basely cozened
|
|
Of that true hand that fought Rome's quarrel out
|
|
And sent her enemies unto the grave;
|
|
Lastly, myself unkindly banished,
|
|
The gates shut on me, and turned weeping out
|
|
To beg relief among Rome's enemies,
|
|
Who drowned their enmity in my true tears
|
|
And oped their arms to embrace me as a friend.
|
|
I am the turned-forth, be it known to you,
|
|
That have preserved her welfare in my blood
|
|
And from her bosom took the enemy's point,
|
|
Sheathing the steel in my advent'rous body.
|
|
Alas, you know I am no vaunter, I;
|
|
My scars can witness, dumb although they are,
|
|
That my report is just and full of truth.
|
|
But soft, methinks I do digress too much,
|
|
Citing my worthless praise. O, pardon me,
|
|
For when no friends are by, men praise themselves.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
Now is my turn to speak. Behold the child.
|
|
Of this was Tamora delivered,
|
|
The issue of an irreligious Moor,
|
|
Chief architect and plotter of these woes.
|
|
The villain is alive in Titus' house,
|
|
And as he is to witness, this is true.
|
|
Now judge what cause had Titus to revenge
|
|
These wrongs unspeakable, past patience,
|
|
Or more than any living man could bear.
|
|
Now have you heard the truth. What say you,
|
|
Romans?
|
|
Have we done aught amiss? Show us wherein,
|
|
And from the place where you behold us pleading,
|
|
The poor remainder of Andronici
|
|
Will, hand in hand, all headlong hurl ourselves,
|
|
And on the ragged stones beat forth our souls,
|
|
And make a mutual closure of our house.
|
|
Speak, Romans, speak, and if you say we shall,
|
|
Lo, hand in hand, Lucius and I will fall.
|
|
|
|
AEMILIUS
|
|
Come, come, thou reverend man of Rome,
|
|
And bring our emperor gently in thy hand,
|
|
Lucius our emperor, for well I know
|
|
The common voice do cry it shall be so.
|
|
|
|
ROMANS
|
|
Lucius, all hail, Rome's royal emperor!
|
|
|
|
MARCUS, [to Attendants]
|
|
Go, go into old Titus' sorrowful house,
|
|
And hither hale that misbelieving Moor
|
|
To be adjudged some direful slaught'ring death
|
|
As punishment for his most wicked life.
|
|
[Attendants exit. Lucius and Marcus
|
|
come down from the upper stage.]
|
|
|
|
ROMANS
|
|
Lucius, all hail, Rome's gracious governor!
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS
|
|
Thanks, gentle Romans. May I govern so
|
|
To heal Rome's harms and wipe away her woe!
|
|
But, gentle people, give me aim awhile,
|
|
For nature puts me to a heavy task.
|
|
Stand all aloof, but, uncle, draw you near
|
|
To shed obsequious tears upon this trunk.
|
|
[He kisses Titus.]
|
|
O, take this warm kiss on thy pale cold lips,
|
|
These sorrowful drops upon thy bloodstained face,
|
|
The last true duties of thy noble son.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
Tear for tear, and loving kiss for kiss,
|
|
Thy brother Marcus tenders on thy lips.
|
|
[He kisses Titus.]
|
|
O, were the sum of these that I should pay
|
|
Countless and infinite, yet would I pay them.
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS, [to Young Lucius]
|
|
Come hither, boy. Come, come, and learn of us
|
|
To melt in showers. Thy grandsire loved thee well.
|
|
Many a time he danced thee on his knee,
|
|
Sung thee asleep, his loving breast thy pillow;
|
|
Many a story hath he told to thee,
|
|
And bid thee bear his pretty tales in mind
|
|
And talk of them when he was dead and gone.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS
|
|
How many thousand times hath these poor lips,
|
|
When they were living, warmed themselves on thine!
|
|
O, now, sweet boy, give them their latest kiss.
|
|
Bid him farewell; commit him to the grave.
|
|
Do them that kindness, and take leave of them.
|
|
|
|
YOUNG LUCIUS
|
|
O grandsire, grandsire, ev'n with all my heart
|
|
Would I were dead so you did live again!
|
|
[He kisses Titus.]
|
|
O Lord, I cannot speak to him for weeping.
|
|
My tears will choke me if I ope my mouth.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Aaron with Guards.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
ROMAN
|
|
You sad Andronici, have done with woes.
|
|
Give sentence on this execrable wretch
|
|
That hath been breeder of these dire events.
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS
|
|
Set him breast-deep in earth and famish him.
|
|
There let him stand and rave and cry for food.
|
|
If anyone relieves or pities him,
|
|
For the offense he dies. This is our doom.
|
|
Some stay to see him fastened in the earth.
|
|
|
|
AARON
|
|
Ah, why should wrath be mute and fury dumb?
|
|
I am no baby, I, that with base prayers
|
|
I should repent the evils I have done.
|
|
Ten thousand worse than ever yet I did
|
|
Would I perform, if I might have my will.
|
|
If one good deed in all my life I did,
|
|
I do repent it from my very soul.
|
|
[Aaron is led off by Guards.]
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS
|
|
Some loving friends convey the Emperor hence,
|
|
And give him burial in his fathers' grave.
|
|
My father and Lavinia shall forthwith
|
|
Be closed in our household's monument.
|
|
As for that ravenous tiger, Tamora,
|
|
No funeral rite, nor man in mourning weed;
|
|
No mournful bell shall ring her burial;
|
|
But throw her forth to beasts and birds to prey.
|
|
Her life was beastly and devoid of pity,
|
|
And being dead, let birds on her take pity.
|
|
[They exit, carrying the dead bodies.]
|