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Titus Andronicus | |
by William Shakespeare | |
Characters in the Play | |
====================== | |
TITUS ANDRONICUS, a noble Roman general | |
LAVINIA, his daughter | |
His sons: | |
LUCIUS | |
MUTIUS | |
MARTIUS | |
QUINTUS | |
YOUNG LUCIUS, his grandson | |
MARCUS ANDRONICUS, Titus's brother, a Roman tribune | |
PUBLIUS, his son | |
Titus's kinsmen: | |
SEMPRONIUS | |
CAIUS | |
VALENTINE | |
SATURNINUS, elder son of the former Roman emperor, later emperor | |
BASSIANUS, younger son of the former emperor | |
TAMORA, Queen of the Goths, later empress | |
AARON the Moor, Tamora's lover | |
Tamora's sons: | |
ALARBUS | |
DEMETRIUS | |
CHIRON | |
AEMILIUS, A Roman nobleman | |
MESSENGER | |
NURSE | |
A Roman CAPTAIN | |
COUNTRY FELLOW | |
FIRST GOTH | |
SECOND GOTH | |
Tribunes, Senators, Romans, Goths, Drummers, Trumpeters, Soldiers, Guards, Attendants, a black Child | |
ACT 1 | |
===== | |
Scene 1 | |
======= | |
[Flourish. Enter the Tribunes (including Marcus | |
Andronicus) and Senators aloft. And then enter, below, | |
Saturninus and his followers at one door, and | |
Bassianus and his followers at another door, with | |
other Romans, Drums, and Trumpets.] | |
SATURNINUS | |
Noble patricians, patrons of my right, | |
Defend the justice of my cause with arms. | |
And countrymen, my loving followers, | |
Plead my successive title with your swords. | |
I am his firstborn son that was the last | |
That wore the imperial diadem of Rome. | |
Then let my father's honors live in me, | |
Nor wrong mine age with this indignity. | |
BASSIANUS | |
Romans, friends, followers, favorers of my right, | |
If ever Bassianus, Caesar's son, | |
Were gracious in the eyes of royal Rome, | |
Keep, then, this passage to the Capitol, | |
And suffer not dishonor to approach | |
The imperial seat, to virtue consecrate, | |
To justice, continence, and nobility; | |
But let desert in pure election shine, | |
And, Romans, fight for freedom in your choice. | |
MARCUS, [aloft, stepping forward and holding up the | |
crown] | |
Princes that strive by factions and by friends | |
Ambitiously for rule and empery, | |
Know that the people of Rome, for whom we stand | |
A special party, have by common voice, | |
In election for the Roman empery, | |
Chosen Andronicus, surnamed Pius | |
For many good and great deserts to Rome. | |
A nobler man, a braver warrior, | |
Lives not this day within the city walls. | |
He by the Senate is accited home | |
From weary wars against the barbarous Goths, | |
That with his sons, a terror to our foes, | |
Hath yoked a nation strong, trained up in arms. | |
Ten years are spent since first he undertook | |
This cause of Rome, and chastised with arms | |
Our enemies' pride. Five times he hath returned | |
Bleeding to Rome, bearing his valiant sons | |
In coffins from the field. | |
And now at last, laden with honor's spoils, | |
Returns the good Andronicus to Rome, | |
Renowned Titus flourishing in arms. | |
Let us entreat, by honor of his name | |
Whom worthily you would have now succeed, | |
And in the Capitol and Senate's right, | |
Whom you pretend to honor and adore, | |
That you withdraw you and abate your strength, | |
Dismiss your followers and, as suitors should, | |
Plead your deserts in peace and humbleness. | |
SATURNINUS | |
How fair the tribune speaks to calm my thoughts! | |
BASSIANUS | |
Marcus Andronicus, so I do affy | |
In thy uprightness and integrity, | |
And so I love and honor thee and thine, | |
Thy noble brother Titus and his sons, | |
And her to whom my thoughts are humbled all, | |
Gracious Lavinia, Rome's rich ornament, | |
That I will here dismiss my loving friends, | |
And to my fortunes and the people's favor | |
Commit my cause in balance to be weighed. | |
[Bassianus' Soldiers exit.] | |
SATURNINUS | |
Friends that have been thus forward in my right, | |
I thank you all and here dismiss you all, | |
And to the love and favor of my country | |
Commit myself, my person, and the cause. | |
[Saturninus' Soldiers exit.] | |
Rome, be as just and gracious unto me | |
As I am confident and kind to thee. | |
Open the gates and let me in. | |
BASSIANUS | |
Tribunes, and me, a poor competitor. | |
[Flourish. They exit to go up into the Senate House. | |
The Tribunes and Senators exit from the upper stage.] | |
[Enter a Captain.] | |
CAPTAIN | |
Romans, make way! The good Andronicus, | |
Patron of virtue, Rome's best champion, | |
Successful in the battles that he fights, | |
With honor and with fortune is returned | |
From where he circumscribed with his sword | |
And brought to yoke the enemies of Rome. | |
[Sound drums and trumpets, and then enter two of Titus' | |
sons (Lucius and Mutius) and then two men bearing a | |
coffin covered with black, then two other sons (Martius | |
and Quintus), then Titus Andronicus, and then Tamora | |
the Queen of Goths and her sons Alarbus, Chiron and | |
Demetrius, with Aaron the Moor, and others as many as | |
can be, then set down the coffin, and Titus speaks.] | |
TITUS | |
Hail Rome, victorious in thy mourning weeds! | |
Lo, as the bark that hath discharged his fraught | |
Returns with precious lading to the bay | |
From whence at first she weighed her anchorage, | |
Cometh Andronicus, bound with laurel boughs, | |
To resalute his country with his tears, | |
Tears of true joy for his return to Rome. | |
Thou great defender of this Capitol, | |
Stand gracious to the rites that we intend. | |
Romans, of five-and-twenty valiant sons, | |
Half of the number that King Priam had, | |
Behold the poor remains alive and dead. | |
These that survive let Rome reward with love; | |
These that I bring unto their latest home, | |
With burial amongst their ancestors. | |
Here Goths have given me leave to sheathe my sword. | |
Titus, unkind and careless of thine own, | |
Why suffer'st thou thy sons unburied yet | |
To hover on the dreadful shore of Styx? | |
Make way to lay them by their brethren. | |
[They open the tomb.] | |
There greet in silence, as the dead are wont, | |
And sleep in peace, slain in your country's wars. | |
O sacred receptacle of my joys, | |
Sweet cell of virtue and nobility, | |
How many sons hast thou of mine in store | |
That thou wilt never render to me more? | |
LUCIUS | |
Give us the proudest prisoner of the Goths, | |
That we may hew his limbs and on a pile, | |
Ad manes fratrum, sacrifice his flesh | |
Before this earthy prison of their bones, | |
That so the shadows be not unappeased, | |
Nor we disturbed with prodigies on Earth. | |
TITUS | |
I give him you, the noblest that survives, | |
The eldest son of this distressed queen. | |
TAMORA | |
Stay, Roman brethren!--Gracious conqueror, | |
Victorious Titus, rue the tears I shed, | |
A mother's tears in passion for her son. | |
And if thy sons were ever dear to thee, | |
O think my son to be as dear to me. | |
Sufficeth not that we are brought to Rome | |
To beautify thy triumphs and return | |
Captive to thee and to thy Roman yoke, | |
But must my sons be slaughtered in the streets | |
For valiant doings in their country's cause? | |
O, if to fight for king and commonweal | |
Were piety in thine, it is in these! | |
[She kneels.] | |
Andronicus, stain not thy tomb with blood. | |
Wilt thou draw near the nature of the gods? | |
Draw near them then in being merciful. | |
Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge. | |
Thrice-noble Titus, spare my first-born son. | |
TITUS | |
Patient yourself, madam, and pardon me. | |
These are their brethren whom your Goths beheld | |
Alive and dead, and for their brethren slain | |
Religiously they ask a sacrifice. | |
To this your son is marked, and die he must, | |
T' appease their groaning shadows that are gone. | |
LUCIUS | |
Away with him, and make a fire straight, | |
And with our swords upon a pile of wood | |
Let's hew his limbs till they be clean consumed. | |
[Exit Titus' sons with Alarbus.] | |
TAMORA, [rising and speaking aside to her sons] | |
O cruel, irreligious piety! | |
CHIRON, [aside to Tamora and Demetrius] | |
Was never Scythia half so barbarous! | |
DEMETRIUS, [aside to Tamora and Chiron] | |
Oppose not Scythia to ambitious Rome! | |
Alarbus goes to rest and we survive | |
To tremble under Titus' threat'ning look. | |
Then, madam, stand resolved, but hope withal | |
The selfsame gods that armed the Queen of Troy | |
With opportunity of sharp revenge | |
Upon the Thracian tyrant in his tent | |
May favor Tamora the Queen of Goths | |
(When Goths were Goths, and Tamora was queen) | |
To quit the bloody wrongs upon her foes. | |
[Enter the sons of Andronicus again with bloody swords.] | |
LUCIUS | |
See, lord and father, how we have performed | |
Our Roman rites. Alarbus' limbs are lopped, | |
And entrails feed the sacrificing fire, | |
Whose smoke like incense doth perfume the sky. | |
Remaineth naught but to inter our brethren, | |
And with loud larums welcome them to Rome. | |
TITUS | |
Let it be so. And let Andronicus | |
Make this his latest farewell to their souls. | |
[Sound trumpets, and lay the coffin in the tomb.] | |
In peace and honor rest you here, my sons, | |
Rome's readiest champions, repose you here in rest, | |
Secure from worldly chances and mishaps. | |
Here lurks no treason, here no envy swells, | |
Here grow no damned drugs; here are no storms, | |
No noise, but silence and eternal sleep. | |
In peace and honor rest you here, my sons. | |
[Enter Lavinia.] | |
LAVINIA | |
In peace and honor live Lord Titus long; | |
My noble lord and father, live in fame. | |
[She kneels.] | |
Lo, at this tomb my tributary tears | |
I render for my brethren's obsequies, | |
And at thy feet I kneel, with tears of joy | |
Shed on this earth for thy return to Rome. | |
O bless me here with thy victorious hand, | |
Whose fortunes Rome's best citizens applaud. | |
TITUS | |
Kind Rome, that hast thus lovingly reserved | |
The cordial of mine age to glad my heart!-- | |
Lavinia, live, outlive thy father's days | |
And fame's eternal date, for virtue's praise. | |
[Lavinia rises.] | |
[Enter Marcus Andronicus, carrying a white robe. | |
Enter aloft Saturninus, Bassianus, Tribunes, Senators, | |
and Guards.] | |
MARCUS | |
Long live Lord Titus, my beloved brother, | |
Gracious triumpher in the eyes of Rome. | |
TITUS | |
Thanks, gentle tribune, noble brother Marcus. | |
MARCUS | |
And welcome, nephews, from successful wars-- | |
You that survive, and you that sleep in fame. | |
Fair lords, your fortunes are alike in all, | |
That in your country's service drew your swords; | |
But safer triumph is this funeral pomp, | |
That hath aspired to Solon's happiness, | |
And triumphs over chance in honor's bed.-- | |
Titus Andronicus, the people of Rome, | |
Whose friend in justice thou hast ever been, | |
Send thee by me, their tribune and their trust, | |
This palliament of white and spotless hue, | |
And name thee in election for the empire | |
With these our late deceased emperor's sons. | |
Be candidatus, then, and put it on | |
And help to set a head on headless Rome. | |
TITUS | |
A better head her glorious body fits | |
Than his that shakes for age and feebleness. | |
[To Tribunes and Senators aloft.] What, should I don | |
this robe and trouble you? | |
Be chosen with proclamations today, | |
Tomorrow yield up rule, resign my life, | |
And set abroad new business for you all? | |
Rome, I have been thy soldier forty years, | |
And led my country's strength successfully, | |
And buried one and twenty valiant sons, | |
Knighted in field, slain manfully in arms, | |
In right and service of their noble country. | |
Give me a staff of honor for mine age, | |
But not a scepter to control the world. | |
Upright he held it, lords, that held it last. | |
MARCUS | |
Titus, thou shalt obtain and ask the empery. | |
SATURNINUS | |
Proud and ambitious tribune, canst thou tell? | |
TITUS Patience, Prince Saturninus. | |
SATURNINUS Romans, do me right. | |
Patricians, draw your swords and sheathe them not | |
Till Saturninus be Rome's emperor.-- | |
Andronicus, would thou were shipped to hell | |
Rather than rob me of the people's hearts. | |
LUCIUS | |
Proud Saturnine, interrupter of the good | |
That noble-minded Titus means to thee. | |
TITUS | |
Content thee, prince. I will restore to thee | |
The people's hearts and wean them from themselves. | |
BASSIANUS | |
Andronicus, I do not flatter thee, | |
But honor thee, and will do till I die. | |
My faction if thou strengthen with thy friends, | |
I will most thankful be, and thanks, to men | |
Of noble minds, is honorable meed. | |
TITUS | |
People of Rome, and people's tribunes here, | |
I ask your voices and your suffrages. | |
Will you bestow them friendly on Andronicus? | |
TRIBUNES | |
To gratify the good Andronicus | |
And gratulate his safe return to Rome, | |
The people will accept whom he admits. | |
TITUS | |
Tribunes, I thank you, and this suit I make: | |
That you create our emperor's eldest son, | |
Lord Saturnine, whose virtues will, I hope, | |
Reflect on Rome as Titan's rays on Earth | |
And ripen justice in this commonweal. | |
Then, if you will elect by my advice, | |
Crown him and say "Long live our emperor." | |
MARCUS | |
With voices and applause of every sort, | |
Patricians and plebeians, we create | |
Lord Saturninus Rome's great emperor, | |
And say "Long live our Emperor Saturnine." | |
[A long flourish till Saturninus, Bassianus, | |
and Guards come down.] | |
SATURNINUS | |
Titus Andronicus, for thy favors done | |
To us in our election this day, | |
I give thee thanks in part of thy deserts, | |
And will with deeds requite thy gentleness. | |
And for an onset, Titus, to advance | |
Thy name and honorable family, | |
Lavinia will I make my empress, | |
Rome's royal mistress, mistress of my heart, | |
And in the sacred Pantheon her espouse. | |
Tell me, Andronicus, doth this motion please thee? | |
TITUS | |
It doth, my worthy lord, and in this match | |
I hold me highly honored of your Grace; | |
And here in sight of Rome to Saturnine, | |
King and commander of our commonweal, | |
The wide world's emperor, do I consecrate | |
My sword, my chariot, and my prisoners, | |
Presents well worthy Rome's imperious lord. | |
Receive them, then, the tribute that I owe, | |
Mine honor's ensigns humbled at thy feet. | |
SATURNINUS | |
Thanks, noble Titus, father of my life. | |
How proud I am of thee and of thy gifts | |
Rome shall record.--And when I do forget | |
The least of these unspeakable deserts, | |
Romans, forget your fealty to me. | |
TITUS, [to Tamora] | |
Now, madam, are you prisoner to an emperor, | |
To him that for your honor and your state | |
Will use you nobly, and your followers. | |
SATURNINUS, [aside] | |
A goodly lady, trust me, of the hue | |
That I would choose, were I to choose anew.-- | |
Clear up, fair queen, that cloudy countenance. | |
Though chance of war hath wrought this change | |
of cheer, | |
Thou com'st not to be made a scorn in Rome. | |
Princely shall be thy usage every way. | |
Rest on my word, and let not discontent | |
Daunt all your hopes. Madam, he comforts you | |
Can make you greater than the Queen of Goths.-- | |
Lavinia, you are not displeased with this? | |
LAVINIA | |
Not I, my lord, sith true nobility | |
Warrants these words in princely courtesy. | |
SATURNINUS | |
Thanks, sweet Lavinia.--Romans, let us go. | |
Ransomless here we set our prisoners free. | |
Proclaim our honors, lords, with trump and drum. | |
[Flourish. Saturninus and his Guards exit, with Drums | |
and Trumpets. Tribunes and Senators exit aloft.] | |
BASSIANUS | |
Lord Titus, by your leave, this maid is mine. | |
TITUS | |
How, sir? Are you in earnest then, my lord? | |
BASSIANUS | |
Ay, noble Titus, and resolved withal | |
To do myself this reason and this right. | |
[Bassianus takes Lavinia by the arm.] | |
MARCUS | |
Suum cuique is our Roman justice. | |
This prince in justice seizeth but his own. | |
LUCIUS | |
And that he will and shall, if Lucius live! | |
TITUS | |
Traitors, avaunt! Where is the Emperor's guard? | |
[Enter Saturninus and his Guards.] | |
Treason, my lord. Lavinia is surprised. | |
SATURNINUS | |
Surprised? By whom? | |
BASSIANUS By him that justly may | |
Bear his betrothed from all the world away. | |
MUTIUS | |
Brothers, help to convey her hence away, | |
And with my sword I'll keep this door safe. | |
[Bassianus, Lavinia, Marcus, Lucius, | |
Quintus, and Martius exit.] | |
TITUS, [to Saturninus] | |
Follow, my lord, and I'll soon bring her back. | |
[Saturninus, Tamora, Demetrius, Chiron, | |
Aaron, and Guards exit.] | |
MUTIUS | |
My lord, you pass not here. | |
TITUS What, villain boy, | |
Barr'st me my way in Rome? | |
[He stabs Mutius.] | |
MUTIUS Help, Lucius, help! | |
[Mutius dies.] | |
[Enter Lucius.] | |
LUCIUS | |
My lord, you are unjust, and more than so! | |
In wrongful quarrel you have slain your son. | |
TITUS | |
Nor thou nor he are any sons of mine. | |
My sons would never so dishonor me. | |
Traitor, restore Lavinia to the Emperor. | |
[Enter aloft the Emperor Saturninus with Tamora | |
and her two sons and Aaron the Moor.] | |
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.] | |
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. | |
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. | |
AARON | |
Touch not the boy. He is of royal blood. | |
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? | |
Villains, for shame you could not beg for grace. | |
Hark, wretches, how I mean to martyr you. | |
This one hand yet is left to cut your throats, | |
Whiles that Lavinia 'tween her stumps doth hold | |
The basin that receives your guilty blood. | |
You know your mother means to feast with me, | |
And calls herself Revenge, and thinks me mad. | |
Hark, villains, I will grind your bones to dust, | |
And with your blood and it I'll make a paste, | |
And of the paste a coffin I will rear, | |
And make two pasties of your shameful heads, | |
And bid that strumpet, your unhallowed dam, | |
Like to the earth swallow her own increase. | |
This is the feast that I have bid her to, | |
And this the banquet she shall surfeit on; | |
For worse than Philomel you used my daughter, | |
And worse than Procne I will be revenged. | |
And now prepare your throats.--Lavinia, come, | |
Receive the blood. [He cuts their throats.] | |
And when that they are dead, | |
Let me go grind their bones to powder small, | |
And with this hateful liquor temper it, | |
And in that paste let their vile heads be baked. | |
Come, come, be everyone officious | |
To make this banquet, which I wish may prove | |
More stern and bloody than the Centaurs' feast. | |
So. Now bring them in, for I'll play the cook | |
And see them ready against their mother comes. | |
[They exit, carrying the dead bodies.] | |
Scene 3 | |
======= | |
[Enter Lucius, Marcus, and the Goths, with Aaron, | |
Guards, and an Attendant carrying the baby.] | |
LUCIUS | |
Uncle Marcus, since 'tis my father's mind | |
That I repair to Rome, I am content. | |
FIRST GOTH | |
And ours with thine, befall what fortune will. | |
LUCIUS | |
Good uncle, take you in this barbarous Moor, | |
This ravenous tiger, this accursed devil. | |
Let him receive no sust'nance. Fetter him | |
Till he be brought unto the Empress' face | |
For testimony of her foul proceedings. | |
And see the ambush of our friends be strong. | |
I fear the Emperor means no good to us. | |
AARON | |
Some devil whisper curses in my ear | |
And prompt me that my tongue may utter forth | |
The venomous malice of my swelling heart. | |
LUCIUS | |
Away, inhuman dog, unhallowed slave!-- | |
Sirs, help our uncle to convey him in. | |
[Sound trumpets.] | |
The trumpets show the Emperor is at hand. | |
[Guards and Aaron exit.] | |
[Enter Emperor Saturninus and Empress Tamora | |
with Aemilius, Tribunes, Attendants, and others.] | |
SATURNINUS | |
What, hath the firmament more suns than one? | |
LUCIUS | |
What boots it thee to call thyself a sun? | |
MARCUS | |
Rome's emperor, and nephew, break the parle. | |
These quarrels must be quietly debated. | |
The feast is ready which the careful Titus | |
Hath ordained to an honorable end, | |
For peace, for love, for league and good to Rome. | |
Please you therefore draw nigh and take your places. | |
SATURNINUS Marcus, we will. | |
[Trumpets sounding, enter Titus like a cook, placing the | |
dishes, with young Lucius and others, and Lavinia | |
with a veil over her face.] | |
TITUS | |
Welcome, my lord;--welcome, dread queen;-- | |
Welcome, you warlike Goths;--welcome, Lucius;-- | |
And welcome, all. Although the cheer be poor, | |
'Twill fill your stomachs. Please you eat of it. | |
[They begin to eat.] | |
SATURNINUS | |
Why art thou thus attired, Andronicus? | |
TITUS | |
Because I would be sure to have all well | |
To entertain your Highness and your empress. | |
TAMORA | |
We are beholding to you, good Andronicus. | |
TITUS | |
An if your Highness knew my heart, you were.-- | |
My lord the Emperor, resolve me this: | |
Was it well done of rash Virginius | |
To slay his daughter with his own right hand | |
Because she was enforced, stained, and deflowered? | |
SATURNINUS It was, Andronicus. | |
TITUS Your reason, mighty lord? | |
SATURNINUS | |
Because the girl should not survive her shame, | |
And by her presence still renew his sorrows. | |
TITUS | |
A reason mighty, strong, and effectual; | |
A pattern, precedent, and lively warrant | |
For me, most wretched, to perform the like. | |
Die, die, Lavinia, and thy shame with thee, | |
And with thy shame thy father's sorrow die. | |
[He kills Lavinia.] | |
SATURNINUS | |
What hast thou done, unnatural and unkind? | |
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. | |
SATURNINUS | |
What, was she ravished? Tell who did the deed. | |
TITUS | |
Will 't please you eat?--Will 't please your Highness | |
feed? | |
TAMORA | |
Why hast thou slain thine only daughter thus? | |
TITUS | |
Not I; 'twas Chiron and Demetrius. | |
They ravished her and cut away her tongue, | |
And they, 'twas they, that did her all this wrong. | |
SATURNINUS | |
Go fetch them hither to us presently. | |
TITUS | |
Why, there they are, both baked in this pie, | |
Whereof their mother daintily hath fed, | |
Eating the flesh that she herself hath bred. | |
'Tis true, 'tis true! Witness my knife's sharp point. | |
[He stabs the Empress.] | |
SATURNINUS | |
Die, frantic wretch, for this accursed deed. | |
[He kills Titus.] | |
LUCIUS | |
Can the son's eye behold his father bleed? | |
[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.] | |
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. | |
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.] |