3657 lines
121 KiB
Plaintext
3657 lines
121 KiB
Plaintext
TITUS ANDRONICUS
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DRAMATIS PERSONAE
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SATURNINUS son to the late Emperor of Rome, and afterwards
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declared Emperor.
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BASSIANUS brother to Saturninus; in love with Lavinia.
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TITUS ANDRONICUS a noble Roman, general against the Goths.
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MARCUS ANDRONICUS tribune of the people, and brother to Titus.
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LUCIUS |
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QUINTUS |
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| sons to Titus Andronicus.
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MARTIUS |
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MUTIUS |
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Young LUCIUS a boy, son to Lucius.
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PUBLIUS son to Marcus the Tribune.
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SEMPRONIUS |
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CAIUS | kinsmen to Titus.
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VALENTINE |
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AEMILIUS a noble Roman.
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ALARBUS |
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DEMETRIUS | sons to Tamora.
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CHIRON |
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AARON a Moor, beloved by Tamora.
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A Captain, Tribune, Messenger, and Clown; Romans.
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(Captain:)
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(Messenger:)
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(Clown:)
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Goths and Romans.
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(First Goth:)
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(Second Goth:)
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(Third Goth:)
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TAMORA Queen of the Goths.
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LAVINIA daughter of Titus Andronicus.
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A Nurse. (Nurse:)
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Senators, Tribunes, Officers, Soldiers, and
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Attendants.
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SCENE Rome, and the country near it.
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TITUS ANDRONICUS
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ACT I
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SCENE I Rome. Before the Capitol.
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[The Tomb of the ANDRONICI appearing; the Tribunes
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and Senators aloft. Enter, below, from one side,
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SATURNINUS and his Followers; and, from the other
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side, BASSIANUS and his Followers; with drum and colours]
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SATURNINUS Noble patricians, patrons of my right,
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Defend the justice of my cause with arms,
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And, countrymen, my loving followers,
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Plead my successive title with your swords:
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I am his first-born son, that was the last
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That wore the imperial diadem of Rome;
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Then let my father's honours live in me,
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Nor wrong mine age with this indignity.
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BASSIANUS Romans, friends, followers, favorers of my right,
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If ever Bassianus, Caesar's son,
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Were gracious in the eyes of royal Rome,
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Keep then this passage to the Capitol
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And suffer not dishonour to approach
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The imperial seat, to virtue consecrate,
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To justice, continence and nobility;
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But let desert in pure election shine,
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And, Romans, fight for freedom in your choice.
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[Enter MARCUS ANDRONICUS, aloft, with the crown]
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MARCUS ANDRONICUS Princes, that strive by factions and by friends
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Ambitiously for rule and empery,
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Know that the people of Rome, for whom we stand
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A special party, have, by common voice,
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In election for the Roman empery,
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Chosen Andronicus, surnamed Pius
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For many good and great deserts to Rome:
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A nobler man, a braver warrior,
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Lives not this day within the city walls:
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He by the senate is accit'd home
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From weary wars against the barbarous Goths;
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That, with his sons, a terror to our foes,
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Hath yoked a nation strong, train'd up in arms.
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Ten years are spent since first he undertook
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This cause of Rome and chastised with arms
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Our enemies' pride: five times he hath return'd
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Bleeding to Rome, bearing his valiant sons
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In coffins from the field;
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And now at last, laden with horror's spoils,
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Returns the good Andronicus to Rome,
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Renowned Titus, flourishing in arms.
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Let us entreat, by honour of his name,
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Whom worthily you would have now succeed.
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And in the Capitol and senate's right,
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Whom you pretend to honour and adore,
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That you withdraw you and abate your strength;
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Dismiss your followers and, as suitors should,
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Plead your deserts in peace and humbleness.
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SATURNINUS How fair the tribune speaks to calm my thoughts!
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BASSIANUS Marcus Andronicus, so I do ally
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In thy uprightness and integrity,
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And so I love and honour thee and thine,
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Thy noble brother Titus and his sons,
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And her to whom my thoughts are humbled all,
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Gracious Lavinia, Rome's rich ornament,
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That I will here dismiss my loving friends,
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And to my fortunes and the people's favor
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Commit my cause in balance to be weigh'd.
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[Exeunt the followers of BASSIANUS]
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SATURNINUS Friends, that have been thus forward in my right,
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I thank you all and here dismiss you all,
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And to the love and favor of my country
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Commit myself, my person and the cause.
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[Exeunt the followers of SATURNINUS]
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Rome, be as just and gracious unto me
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As I am confident and kind to thee.
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Open the gates, and let me in.
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BASSIANUS Tribunes, and me, a poor competitor.
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[Flourish. SATURNINUS and BASSIANUS go up into the Capitol]
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[Enter a Captain]
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Captain Romans, make way: the good Andronicus.
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Patron of virtue, Rome's best champion,
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Successful in the battles that he fights,
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With honour and with fortune is return'd
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From where he circumscribed with his sword,
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And brought to yoke, the enemies of Rome.
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[Drums and trumpets sounded. Enter MARTIUS and
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MUTIUS; After them, two Men bearing a coffin
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covered with black; then LUCIUS and QUINTUS. After
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them, TITUS ANDRONICUS; and then TAMORA, with
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ALARBUS, DEMETRIUS, CHIRON, AARON, and other Goths,
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prisoners; Soldiers and people following. The
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Bearers set down the coffin, and TITUS speaks]
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TITUS ANDRONICUS Hail, Rome, victorious in thy mourning weeds!
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Lo, as the bark, that hath discharged her fraught,
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Returns with precious jading to the bay
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From whence at first she weigh'd her anchorage,
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Cometh Andronicus, bound with laurel boughs,
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To re-salute his country with his tears,
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Tears of true joy for his return to Rome.
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Thou great defender of this Capitol,
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Stand gracious to the rites that we intend!
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Romans, of five and twenty valiant sons,
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Half of the number that King Priam had,
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Behold the poor remains, alive and dead!
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These that survive let Rome reward with love;
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These that I bring unto their latest home,
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With burial amongst their ancestors:
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Here Goths have given me leave to sheathe my sword.
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Titus, unkind and careless of thine own,
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Why suffer'st thou thy sons, unburied yet,
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To hover on the dreadful shore of Styx?
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Make way to lay them by their brethren.
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[The tomb is opened]
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There greet in silence, as the dead are wont,
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And sleep in peace, slain in your country's wars!
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O sacred receptacle of my joys,
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Sweet cell of virtue and nobility,
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How many sons of mine hast thou in store,
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That thou wilt never render to me more!
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LUCIUS Give us the proudest prisoner of the Goths,
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That we may hew his limbs, and on a pile
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Ad manes fratrum sacrifice his flesh,
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Before this earthy prison of their bones;
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That so the shadows be not unappeased,
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Nor we disturb'd with prodigies on earth.
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TITUS ANDRONICUS I give him you, the noblest that survives,
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The eldest son of this distressed queen.
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TAMORA Stay, Roman brethren! Gracious conqueror,
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Victorious Titus, rue the tears I shed,
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A mother's tears in passion for her son:
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And if thy sons were ever dear to thee,
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O, think my son to be as dear to me!
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Sufficeth not that we are brought to Rome,
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To beautify thy triumphs and return,
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Captive to thee and to thy Roman yoke,
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But must my sons be slaughter'd in the streets,
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For valiant doings in their country's cause?
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O, if to fight for king and commonweal
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Were piety in thine, it is in these.
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Andronicus, stain not thy tomb with blood:
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Wilt thou draw near the nature of the gods?
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Draw near them then in being merciful:
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Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge:
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Thrice noble Titus, spare my first-born son.
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TITUS ANDRONICUS Patient yourself, madam, and pardon me.
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These are their brethren, whom you Goths beheld
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Alive and dead, and for their brethren slain
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Religiously they ask a sacrifice:
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To this your son is mark'd, and die he must,
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To appease their groaning shadows that are gone.
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LUCIUS Away with him! and make a fire straight;
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And with our swords, upon a pile of wood,
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Let's hew his limbs till they be clean consumed.
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[Exeunt LUCIUS, QUINTUS, MARTIUS, and MUTIUS, with ALARBUS]
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TAMORA O cruel, irreligious piety!
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CHIRON Was ever Scythia half so barbarous?
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DEMETRIUS Oppose not Scythia to ambitious Rome.
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Alarbus goes to rest; and we survive
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To tremble under Titus' threatening looks.
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Then, madam, stand resolved, but hope withal
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The self-same gods that arm'd the Queen of Troy
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With opportunity of sharp revenge
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Upon the Thracian tyrant in his tent,
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May favor Tamora, the Queen of Goths--
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When Goths were Goths and Tamora was queen--
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To quit the bloody wrongs upon her foes.
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[Re-enter LUCIUS, QUINTUS, MARTIUS and MUTIUS, with
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their swords bloody]
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LUCIUS See, lord and father, how we have perform'd
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Our Roman rites: Alarbus' limbs are lopp'd,
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And entrails feed the sacrificing fire,
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Whose smoke, like incense, doth perfume the sky.
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Remaineth nought, but to inter our brethren,
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And with loud 'larums welcome them to Rome.
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TITUS ANDRONICUS Let it be so; and let Andronicus
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Make this his latest farewell to their souls.
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[Trumpets sounded, and the coffin laid in the tomb]
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In peace and honour rest you here, my sons;
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Rome's readiest champions, repose you here in rest,
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Secure from worldly chances and mishaps!
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Here lurks no treason, here no envy swells,
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Here grow no damned grudges; here are no storms,
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No noise, but silence and eternal sleep:
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In peace and honour rest you here, my sons!
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[Enter LAVINIA]
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LAVINIA In peace and honour live Lord Titus long;
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My noble lord and father, live in fame!
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Lo, at this tomb my tributary tears
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I render, for my brethren's obsequies;
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And at thy feet I kneel, with tears of joy,
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Shed on the earth, for thy return to Rome:
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O, bless me here with thy victorious hand,
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Whose fortunes Rome's best citizens applaud!
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TITUS ANDRONICUS Kind Rome, that hast thus lovingly reserved
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The cordial of mine age to glad my heart!
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Lavinia, live; outlive thy father's days,
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And fame's eternal date, for virtue's praise!
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[Enter, below, MARCUS ANDRONICUS and Tribunes;
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re-enter SATURNINUS and BASSIANUS, attended]
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MARCUS ANDRONICUS Long live Lord Titus, my beloved brother,
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Gracious triumpher in the eyes of Rome!
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TITUS ANDRONICUS Thanks, gentle tribune, noble brother Marcus.
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MARCUS ANDRONICUS And welcome, nephews, from successful wars,
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You that survive, and you that sleep in fame!
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Fair lords, your fortunes are alike in all,
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That in your country's service drew your swords:
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But safer triumph is this funeral pomp,
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That hath aspired to Solon's happiness
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And triumphs over chance in honour's bed.
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Titus Andronicus, the people of Rome,
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Whose friend in justice thou hast ever been,
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Send thee by me, their tribune and their trust,
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This palliament of white and spotless hue;
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And name thee in election for the empire,
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With these our late-deceased emperor's sons:
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Be candidatus then, and put it on,
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And help to set a head on headless Rome.
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TITUS ANDRONICUS A better head her glorious body fits
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Than his that shakes for age and feebleness:
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What should I don this robe, and trouble you?
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Be chosen with proclamations to-day,
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To-morrow yield up rule, resign my life,
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And set abroad new business for you all?
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Rome, I have been thy soldier forty years,
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And led my country's strength successfully,
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And buried one and twenty valiant sons,
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Knighted in field, slain manfully in arms,
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In right and service of their noble country
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Give me a staff of honour for mine age,
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But not a sceptre to control the world:
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Upright he held it, lords, that held it last.
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MARCUS ANDRONICUS Titus, thou shalt obtain and ask the empery.
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SATURNINUS Proud and ambitious tribune, canst thou tell?
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TITUS ANDRONICUS Patience, Prince Saturninus.
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SATURNINUS Romans, do me right:
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Patricians, draw your swords: and sheathe them not
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Till Saturninus be Rome's emperor.
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Andronicus, would thou wert shipp'd to hell,
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Rather than rob me of the people's hearts!
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LUCIUS Proud Saturnine, interrupter of the good
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That noble-minded Titus means to thee!
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TITUS ANDRONICUS Content thee, prince; I will restore to thee
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The people's hearts, and wean them from themselves.
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BASSIANUS Andronicus, I do not flatter thee,
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But honour thee, and will do till I die:
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My faction if thou strengthen with thy friends,
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I will most thankful be; and thanks to men
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Of noble minds is honourable meed.
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TITUS ANDRONICUS People of Rome, and people's tribunes here,
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I ask your voices and your suffrages:
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Will you bestow them friendly on Andronicus?
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Tribunes To gratify the good Andronicus,
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And gratulate his safe return to Rome,
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The people will accept whom he admits.
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TITUS ANDRONICUS Tribunes, I thank you: and this suit I make,
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That you create your emperor's eldest son,
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Lord Saturnine; whose virtues will, I hope,
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Reflect on Rome as Titan's rays on earth,
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And ripen justice in this commonweal:
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Then, if you will elect by my advice,
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Crown him and say 'Long live our emperor!'
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MARCUS ANDRONICUS With voices and applause of every sort,
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Patricians and plebeians, we create
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Lord Saturninus Rome's great emperor,
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And say 'Long live our Emperor Saturnine!'
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[A long flourish till they come down]
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SATURNINUS Titus Andronicus, for thy favors done
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To us in our election this day,
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I give thee thanks in part of thy deserts,
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And will with deeds requite thy gentleness:
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And, for an onset, Titus, to advance
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Thy name and honourable family,
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Lavinia will I make my empress,
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Rome's royal mistress, mistress of my heart,
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And in the sacred Pantheon her espouse:
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Tell me, Andronicus, doth this motion please thee?
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TITUS ANDRONICUS It doth, my worthy lord; and in this match
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I hold me highly honour'd of your grace:
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And here in sight of Rome to Saturnine,
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King and commander of our commonweal,
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The wide world's emperor, do I consecrate
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My sword, my chariot and my prisoners;
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Presents well worthy Rome's imperial lord:
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Receive them then, the tribute that I owe,
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Mine honour's ensigns humbled at thy feet.
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SATURNINUS Thanks, noble Titus, father of my life!
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How proud I am of thee and of thy gifts
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Rome shall record, and when I do forget
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The least of these unspeakable deserts,
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Romans, forget your fealty to me.
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TITUS ANDRONICUS [To TAMORA] Now, madam, are you prisoner to
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an emperor;
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To him that, for your honour and your state,
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Will use you nobly and your followers.
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SATURNINUS A goodly lady, trust me; of the hue
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That I would choose, were I to choose anew.
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Clear up, fair queen, that cloudy countenance:
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Though chance of war hath wrought this change of cheer,
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Thou comest not to be made a scorn in Rome:
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Princely shall be thy usage every way.
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Rest on my word, and let not discontent
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Daunt all your hopes: madam, he comforts you
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Can make you greater than the Queen of Goths.
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Lavinia, you are not displeased with this?
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LAVINIA Not I, my lord; sith true nobility
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Warrants these words in princely courtesy.
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SATURNINUS Thanks, sweet Lavinia. Romans, let us go;
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Ransomless here we set our prisoners free:
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Proclaim our honours, lords, with trump and drum.
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[Flourish. SATURNINUS courts TAMORA in dumb show]
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BASSIANUS Lord Titus, by your leave, this maid is mine.
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[Seizing LAVINIA]
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TITUS ANDRONICUS How, sir! are you in earnest then, my lord?
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BASSIANUS Ay, noble Titus; and resolved withal
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To do myself this reason and this right.
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MARCUS ANDRONICUS 'Suum cuique' is our Roman justice:
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This prince in justice seizeth but his own.
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LUCIUS And that he will, and shall, if Lucius live.
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TITUS ANDRONICUS Traitors, avaunt! Where is the emperor's guard?
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Treason, my lord! Lavinia is surprised!
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SATURNINUS Surprised! by whom?
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BASSIANUS By him that justly may
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Bear his betroth'd from all the world away.
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[Exeunt BASSIANUS and MARCUS with LAVINIA]
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MUTIUS Brothers, help to convey her hence away,
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And with my sword I'll keep this door safe.
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[Exeunt LUCIUS, QUINTUS, and MARTIUS]
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TITUS ANDRONICUS Follow, my lord, and I'll soon bring her back.
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MUTIUS My lord, you pass not here.
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TITUS ANDRONICUS What, villain boy!
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Barr'st me my way in Rome?
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[Stabbing MUTIUS]
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MUTIUS Help, Lucius, help!
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[Dies]
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[During the fray, SATURNINUS, TAMORA, DEMETRIUS,
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CHIRON and AARON go out and re-enter, above]
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[Re-enter LUCIUS]
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LUCIUS My lord, you are unjust, and, more than so,
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In wrongful quarrel you have slain your son.
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TITUS ANDRONICUS Nor thou, nor he, are any sons of mine;
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My sons would never so dishonour me:
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Traitor, restore Lavinia to the emperor.
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LUCIUS Dead, if you will; but not to be his wife,
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That is another's lawful promised love.
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[Exit]
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SATURNINUS No, Titus, no; the emperor needs her not,
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Nor her, nor thee, nor any of thy stock:
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I'll trust, by leisure, him that mocks me once;
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Thee never, nor thy traitorous haughty sons,
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Confederates all thus to dishonour me.
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Was there none else in Rome to make a stale,
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But Saturnine? Full well, Andronicus,
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Agree these deeds with that proud brag of thine,
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That said'st I begg'd the empire at thy hands.
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TITUS ANDRONICUS O monstrous! what reproachful words are these?
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|
SATURNINUS But go thy ways; go, give that changing piece
|
|
To him that flourish'd 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 ANDRONICUS 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 empress 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 every thing
|
|
In readiness for Hymenaeus stand,
|
|
I will not re-salute 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, 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.
|
|
|
|
[Exeunt all but TITUS]
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS I am not bid to wait upon this bride.
|
|
Titus, when wert thou wont to walk alone,
|
|
Dishonour'd thus, and challenged of wrongs?
|
|
|
|
[Re-enter MARCUS, LUCIUS, QUINTUS, and MARTIUS]
|
|
|
|
MARCUS ANDRONICUS O Titus, see, O, see what thou hast done!
|
|
In a bad quarrel slain a virtuous son.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS No, foolish tribune, no; no son of mine,
|
|
Nor thou, nor these, confederates in the deed
|
|
That hath dishonour'd all our family;
|
|
Unworthy brother, and unworthy sons!
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS But let us give him burial, as becomes;
|
|
Give Mutius burial with our brethren.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS Traitors, away! he rests not in this tomb:
|
|
This monument five hundred years hath stood,
|
|
Which I have sumptuously re-edified:
|
|
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 ANDRONICUS My lord, this is impiety in you:
|
|
My nephew Mutius' deeds do plead for him
|
|
He must be buried with his brethren.
|
|
|
|
QUINTUS |
|
|
| And shall, or him we will accompany.
|
|
MARTIUS |
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS 'And shall!' what villain was it that spake
|
|
that word?
|
|
|
|
QUINTUS He that would vouch it in any place but here.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS What, would you bury him in my despite?
|
|
|
|
MARCUS ANDRONICUS No, noble Titus, but entreat of thee
|
|
To pardon Mutius and to bury him.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS Marcus, even thou hast struck upon my crest,
|
|
And, with these boys, mine honour thou hast wounded:
|
|
My foes I do repute you every one;
|
|
So, trouble me no more, but get you gone.
|
|
|
|
MARTIUS He is not with himself; let us withdraw.
|
|
|
|
QUINTUS Not I, till Mutius' bones be buried.
|
|
|
|
[MARCUS and the Sons of TITUS kneel]
|
|
|
|
MARCUS ANDRONICUS Brother, for in that name doth nature plead,--
|
|
|
|
QUINTUS Father, and in that name doth nature speak,--
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS Speak thou no more, if all the rest will speed.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS ANDRONICUS Renowned Titus, more than half my soul,--
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS Dear father, soul and substance of us all,--
|
|
|
|
MARCUS ANDRONICUS Suffer thy brother Marcus to inter
|
|
His noble nephew here in virtue's nest,
|
|
That died in honour 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 barr'd his entrance here.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS Rise, Marcus, rise.
|
|
The dismall'st day is this that e'er I saw,
|
|
To be dishonour'd by my sons in Rome!
|
|
Well, bury him, and bury me the next.
|
|
|
|
[MUTIUS is put into the tomb]
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS There lie thy bones, sweet Mutius, with thy friends,
|
|
Till we with trophies do adorn thy tomb.
|
|
|
|
All [Kneeling] No man shed tears for noble Mutius;
|
|
He lives in fame that died in virtue's cause.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS ANDRONICUS 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 ANDRONICUS 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. Re-enter, from one side, SATURNINUS
|
|
attended, TAMORA, DEMETRIUS, CHIRON and AARON; from
|
|
the other, BASSIANUS, LAVINIA, and others]
|
|
|
|
SATURNINUS So, Bassianus, you have play'd 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 truth-betrothed love and now my wife?
|
|
But let the laws of Rome determine all;
|
|
Meanwhile I am possess'd 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 honour wrong'd;
|
|
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 controll'd in that he frankly gave:
|
|
Receive him, then, to favor, Saturnine,
|
|
That hath express'd himself in all his deeds
|
|
A father and a friend to thee and Rome.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS Prince Bassianus, leave to plead my deeds:
|
|
'Tis thou and those that have dishonour'd me.
|
|
Rome and the righteous heavens be my judge,
|
|
How I have loved and honour'd Saturnine!
|
|
|
|
TAMORA My worthy lord, if ever Tamora
|
|
Were gracious in those princely eyes of thine,
|
|
Then hear me speak in indifferently for all;
|
|
And at my suit, sweet, pardon what is past.
|
|
|
|
SATURNINUS What, madam! be dishonour'd openly,
|
|
And basely put it up without revenge?
|
|
|
|
TAMORA Not so, my lord; the gods of Rome forfend
|
|
I should be author to dishonour you!
|
|
But on mine honour 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 prevail'd.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS 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 honour, good my lord,
|
|
That I have reconciled your friends and you.
|
|
For you, Prince Bassianus, I have pass'd
|
|
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.
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS We do, and vow to heaven and to his highness,
|
|
That what we did was mildly as we might,
|
|
Tendering our sister's honour and our own.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS ANDRONICUS That, on mine honour, here I do 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: sweet heart, 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.
|
|
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 ANDRONICUS To-morrow, 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.
|
|
|
|
[Flourish. Exeunt]
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS
|
|
|
|
ACT II
|
|
|
|
SCENE I Rome. Before the Palace.
|
|
|
|
[Enter AARON]
|
|
|
|
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 threatening 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 honour 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, fetter'd 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 empress.
|
|
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 shipwreck and his commonweal's.
|
|
Holloa! what storm is this?
|
|
|
|
[Enter DEMETRIUS and CHIRON, braving]
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS Chiron, thy years want wit, thy wit wants edge,
|
|
And manners, to intrude where I am graced;
|
|
And may, for aught thou know'st, affected be.
|
|
|
|
CHIRON Demetrius, thou dost over-ween 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 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 ye so brave?
|
|
|
|
[They draw]
|
|
|
|
AARON [Coming forward] 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 dishonour'd in the court of Rome.
|
|
For shame, put up.
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS Not I, till I have sheathed
|
|
My rapier in his bosom and withal
|
|
Thrust these reproachful speeches down his throat
|
|
That he hath breathed in my dishonour here.
|
|
|
|
CHIRON For that I am prepared and full resolved.
|
|
Foul-spoken coward, that thunder'st with thy tongue,
|
|
And with thy weapon nothing darest 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 broach'd
|
|
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 ye mad? or know ye 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 makest thou it so strange?
|
|
She is a woman, therefore may be woo'd;
|
|
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 ye, hark ye! 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 lingering 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 villany:
|
|
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 villany and vengeance consecrate,
|
|
Will we acquaint with all that 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 lusts, shadow'd 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 Styga, per manes vehor.
|
|
|
|
[Exeunt]
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS
|
|
|
|
ACT II
|
|
|
|
SCENE II A forest near Rome. Horns and cry of hounds heard.
|
|
|
|
[Enter TITUS ANDRONICUS, with Hunters, &c., MARCUS,
|
|
LUCIUS, QUINTUS, and MARTIUS]
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS The hunt is up, the morn is bright and grey,
|
|
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.
|
|
|
|
[A cry of hounds and horns, winded in a peal. Enter
|
|
SATURNINUS, TAMORA, BASSIANUS, LAVINIA, DEMETRIUS,
|
|
CHIRON, and Attendants]
|
|
|
|
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 lord;
|
|
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 ye see
|
|
Our Roman hunting.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS ANDRONICUS I have dogs, my lord,
|
|
Will rouse the proudest panther in the chase,
|
|
And climb the highest promontory top.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS And I have horse will follow where the game
|
|
Makes way, and run like swallows o'er the plain.
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS Chiron, we hunt not, we, with horse nor hound,
|
|
But hope to pluck a dainty doe to ground.
|
|
|
|
[Exeunt]
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS
|
|
|
|
ACT II
|
|
|
|
SCENE III A lonely part of the forest.
|
|
|
|
[Enter AARON, with 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 villany:
|
|
And so repose, sweet gold, for their unrest
|
|
|
|
[Hides the gold]
|
|
|
|
That have their alms out of the empress' chest.
|
|
|
|
[Enter TAMORA]
|
|
|
|
TAMORA My lovely Aaron, wherefore look'st thou sad,
|
|
When every thing doth make a gleeful boast?
|
|
The birds chant melody on every bush,
|
|
The snake lies rolled in the cheerful sun,
|
|
The green leaves quiver with the cooling wind
|
|
And make a chequer'd 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 yelping noise;
|
|
And, after conflict such as was supposed
|
|
The wandering prince and Dido once enjoy'd,
|
|
When with a happy storm they were surprised
|
|
And curtain'd 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 to-day,
|
|
Thy sons make pillage of her chastity
|
|
And wash their hands in Bassianus' blood.
|
|
Seest thou this letter? take it up, I pray thee,
|
|
And give the king this fatal plotted scroll.
|
|
Now question me no more; we are espied;
|
|
Here comes a parcel of our hopeful booty,
|
|
Which dreads not yet their lives' destruction.
|
|
|
|
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.
|
|
|
|
[Exit]
|
|
|
|
[Enter BASSIANUS and LAVINIA]
|
|
|
|
BASSIANUS Who have we here? Rome's royal empress,
|
|
Unfurnish'd 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 our private steps!
|
|
Had I the power that some say Dian had,
|
|
Thy temples should be planted presently
|
|
With horns, as was Actaeon'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 to-day!
|
|
'Tis pity they should take him for a stag.
|
|
|
|
BASSIANUS Believe me, queen, your swarth Cimmerian
|
|
Doth make your honour of his body's hue,
|
|
Spotted, detested, and abominable.
|
|
Why are you sequester'd from all your train,
|
|
Dismounted from your snow-white goodly steed.
|
|
And wander'd 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-colour'd love;
|
|
This valley fits the purpose passing well.
|
|
|
|
BASSIANUS The king my brother shall have note of this.
|
|
|
|
LAVINIA Ay, for these slips have made him noted long:
|
|
Good king, to be so mightily abused!
|
|
|
|
TAMORA Why have I patience to endure all this?
|
|
|
|
[Enter DEMETRIUS and CHIRON]
|
|
|
|
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,
|
|
O'ercome with moss and baleful mistletoe:
|
|
Here never shines the sun; here nothing breeds,
|
|
Unless the nightly owl or fatal raven:
|
|
And when they show'd 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 call'd 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 ye not henceforth call'd my children.
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS This is a witness that I am thy son.
|
|
|
|
[Stabs BASSIANUS]
|
|
|
|
CHIRON And this for me, struck home to show my strength.
|
|
|
|
[Also stabs BASSIANUS, who dies]
|
|
|
|
LAVINIA Ay, come, Semiramis, nay, barbarous Tamora,
|
|
For no name fits thy nature but thy own!
|
|
|
|
TAMORA Give me thy 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 An 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 ye have the honey ye 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 bear'st 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 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'dst 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 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 pour'd 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 call'd a gentle queen,
|
|
And with thine own hands kill me in this place!
|
|
For 'tis not life that I have begg'd 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 Away! for thou hast stay'd us here too long.
|
|
|
|
LAVINIA 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.
|
|
|
|
[DEMETRIUS throws the body of BASSIANUS into the
|
|
pit; then exeunt DEMETRIUS and CHIRON, dragging
|
|
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 deflow'r.
|
|
|
|
[Exit]
|
|
|
|
[Re-enter AARON, with 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't not for shame,
|
|
Well could I leave our sport to sleep awhile.
|
|
|
|
[Falls into the pit]
|
|
|
|
QUINTUS What art thou fall'n? What subtle hole is this,
|
|
Whose mouth is cover'd with rude-growing briers,
|
|
Upon whose leaves are drops of new-shed blood
|
|
As fresh as morning dew distill'd on flowers?
|
|
A very fatal place it seems to me.
|
|
|
|
Speak, brother, hast thou hurt thee with the fall?
|
|
|
|
MARTIUS O brother, with the dismall'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 give a likely guess
|
|
How these were they that made away his brother.
|
|
|
|
[Exit]
|
|
|
|
MARTIUS Why dost not comfort me, and help me out
|
|
From this unhallowed and blood-stained hole?
|
|
|
|
QUINTUS I am surprised with an uncouth fear;
|
|
A chilling sweat o'er-runs 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 how it is; for ne'er till now
|
|
Was I a child to fear I know not what.
|
|
|
|
MARTIUS Lord Bassianus lies embrewed here,
|
|
All on a heap, like to a slaughter'd 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 the hole,
|
|
Which, like a taper in some monument,
|
|
Doth shine upon the dead man's earthy cheeks,
|
|
And shows the ragged entrails of the 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 Reach me thy hand, that I may help thee out;
|
|
Or, wanting strength to do thee so much good,
|
|
I may be pluck'd into the swallowing womb
|
|
Of this deep pit, poor Bassianus' grave.
|
|
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.
|
|
|
|
[Falls in]
|
|
|
|
[Enter SATURNINUS with AARON]
|
|
|
|
SATURNINUS Along with me: I'll see what hole is here,
|
|
And what he is that now is leap'd into it.
|
|
Say who art thou that lately didst descend
|
|
Into this gaping hollow of the earth?
|
|
|
|
MARTIUS The unhappy son 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 him there.
|
|
|
|
MARTIUS We know not where you left him all alive;
|
|
But, out, alas! here have we found him dead.
|
|
|
|
[Re-enter TAMORA, with Attendants; 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 SATURNINUS a letter]
|
|
|
|
SATURNINUS [Reads] '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!
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS 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 fault 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 ANDRONICUS 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 murder'd 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 ANDRONICUS Come, Lucius, come; stay not to talk with them.
|
|
|
|
[Exeunt]
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS
|
|
|
|
ACT II
|
|
|
|
SCENE IV Another part of the forest.
|
|
|
|
[Enter DEMETRIUS and CHIRON with LAVINIA, ravished;
|
|
her hands cut off, and her tongue cut out]
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS So, now go tell, an if thy tongue can speak,
|
|
Who 'twas that cut thy tongue and ravish'd 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 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 case, I should go hang myself.
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS If thou hadst hands to help thee knit the cord.
|
|
|
|
[Exeunt DEMETRIUS and CHIRON]
|
|
|
|
[Enter MARCUS]
|
|
|
|
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 in eternal sleep!
|
|
Speak, gentle niece, what stern ungentle hands
|
|
Have lopp'd and hew'd 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 have thy love? Why dost not speak to me?
|
|
Alas, a crimson river of warm blood,
|
|
Like to a bubbling fountain stirr'd 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 stopp'd,
|
|
Doth burn the heart to cinders where it is.
|
|
Fair Philomela, she but lost her tongue,
|
|
And in a tedious sampler sew'd 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 sew'd 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 touch'd them for his life!
|
|
Or, had he heard the heavenly harmony
|
|
Which that sweet tongue hath made,
|
|
He would have dropp'd 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!
|
|
|
|
[Exeunt]
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS
|
|
|
|
ACT III
|
|
|
|
SCENE I Rome. A street.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Judges, Senators and Tribunes, with MARTIUS
|
|
and QUINTUS, bound, passing on to the place of
|
|
execution; TITUS going before, pleading]
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|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS 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 watch'd;
|
|
And for these bitter tears, which now you see
|
|
Filling the aged wrinkles in my cheeks;
|
|
Be pitiful to my condemned sons,
|
|
Whose souls are not corrupted as 'tis thought.
|
|
For two and twenty sons I never wept,
|
|
Because they died in honour's lofty bed.
|
|
|
|
[Lieth down; the Judges, &c., pass by him, and Exeunt]
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|
|
|
For these, 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 urns,
|
|
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 spring-time on thy face,
|
|
So thou refuse to drink my dear sons' blood.
|
|
|
|
[Enter LUCIUS, with his sword drawn]
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|
|
|
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 ANDRONICUS 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 ANDRONICUS Why, tis no matter, man; if they did hear,
|
|
They would not mark me, or 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 tribune 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.
|
|
|
|
[Rises]
|
|
|
|
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 ANDRONICUS 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 and LAVINIA]
|
|
|
|
MARCUS ANDRONICUS Titus, prepare thy aged eyes to weep;
|
|
Or, if not so, thy noble heart to break:
|
|
I bring consuming sorrow to thine age.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS Will it consume me? let me see it, then.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS ANDRONICUS This was thy daughter.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS Why, Marcus, so she is.
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS Ay me, this object kills me!
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS 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 camest,
|
|
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, are but vain.
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS Speak, gentle sister, who hath martyr'd thee?
|
|
|
|
MARCUS ANDRONICUS O, that delightful engine of her thoughts
|
|
That blabb'd 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 ANDRONICUS O, thus I found her, straying in the park,
|
|
Seeking to hide herself, as doth the deer
|
|
That hath received some unrecuring wound.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS It was my deer; 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 martyr'd thee:
|
|
Thy husband he is dead: and for his death
|
|
Thy brothers are condemn'd, 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 honey-dew
|
|
Upon a gather'd lily almost wither'd.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS ANDRONICUS Perchance she weeps because they kill'd her husband;
|
|
Perchance because she knows them innocent.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS 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 stain'd, as 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 deuce of further misery,
|
|
To make us wonder'd at in time to come.
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS Sweet father, cease your tears; for, at your grief,
|
|
See how my wretched sister sobs and weeps.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS ANDRONICUS Patience, dear niece. Good Titus, dry thine eyes.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS Ah, Marcus, Marcus! brother, well I wot
|
|
Thy napkin cannot drink a tear of mine,
|
|
For thou, poor man, hast drown'd it with thine own.
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS Ah, my Lavinia, I will wipe thy cheeks.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS 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]
|
|
|
|
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 ANDRONICUS 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 ANDRONICUS Which of your hands hath not defended Rome,
|
|
And rear'd aloft the bloody battle-axe,
|
|
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 ANDRONICUS My hand shall go.
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS By heaven, it shall not go!
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS Sirs, strive no more: such wither'd 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 ANDRONICUS And, for our father's sake and mother's care,
|
|
Now let me show a brother's love to thee.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS Agree between you; I will spare my hand.
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS Then I'll go fetch an axe.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS ANDRONICUS But I will use the axe.
|
|
|
|
[Exeunt LUCIUS and MARCUS]
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS Come hither, Aaron; I'll deceive them both:
|
|
Lend me thy hand, and I will give thee mine.
|
|
|
|
AARON [Aside] If that be call'd 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.
|
|
|
|
[Cuts off TITUS's hand]
|
|
|
|
[Re-enter LUCIUS and MARCUS]
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS Now stay your strife: what shall be is dispatch'd.
|
|
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 villany
|
|
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.
|
|
|
|
[Exit]
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS O, here I lift this one hand up to heaven,
|
|
And bow this feeble ruin to the earth:
|
|
If any power pities wretched tears,
|
|
To that I call!
|
|
|
|
[To LAVINIA]
|
|
What, wilt 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 ANDRONICUS O brother, speak with possibilities,
|
|
And do not break into these deep extremes.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS Is not my sorrow deep, having no bottom?
|
|
Then be my passions bottomless with them.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS ANDRONICUS But yet let reason govern thy lament.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS 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,
|
|
Threatening the welkin with his big-swoln face?
|
|
And wilt thou have a reason for this coil?
|
|
I am the sea; hark, how her sighs do blow!
|
|
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, overflow'd and drown'd;
|
|
For why 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 griefs their sports, thy resolution mock'd;
|
|
That woe is me to think upon thy woes
|
|
More than remembrance of my father's death.
|
|
|
|
[Exit]
|
|
|
|
MARCUS ANDRONICUS Now let hot AEtna cool in Sicily,
|
|
And be my heart an ever-burning 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 ANDRONICUS Alas, poor heart, that kiss is comfortless
|
|
As frozen water to a starved snake.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS When will this fearful slumber have an end?
|
|
|
|
MARCUS ANDRONICUS Now, farewell, flattery: die, Andronicus;
|
|
Thou dost not slumber: see, thy two sons' heads,
|
|
Thy warlike hand, thy mangled daughter here:
|
|
Thy other banish'd 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:
|
|
Rend 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 ANDRONICUS Ha, ha, ha!
|
|
|
|
MARCUS ANDRONICUS Why dost thou laugh? it fits not with this hour.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS Why, I have not another tear to shed:
|
|
Besides, this sorrow is an enemy,
|
|
And would usurp upon my watery 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 return'd again
|
|
Even in their throats that have 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 I will bear.
|
|
Lavinia, thou shalt be employ'd: 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.
|
|
|
|
[Exeunt TITUS, MARCUS, and LAVINIA]
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS Farewell Andronicus, my noble father,
|
|
The wofull'st man that ever lived in Rome:
|
|
Farewell, proud Rome; till Lucius come again,
|
|
He leaves 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.
|
|
|
|
[Exit]
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS
|
|
|
|
ACT III
|
|
|
|
SCENE II A room in Titus's house. A banquet set out.
|
|
|
|
[Enter TITUS, MARCUS, LAVINIA and Young LUCIUS, a boy]
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS 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.
|
|
|
|
[To LAVINIA]
|
|
|
|
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 ANDRONICUS Fie, brother, fie! teach her not thus to lay
|
|
Such violent hands upon her tender life.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS 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 martyr'd signs;
|
|
She says she drinks no other drink but tears,
|
|
Brew'd with her sorrow, mesh'd 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 practise learn to know thy meaning.
|
|
|
|
Young LUCIUS Good grandsire, leave these bitter deep laments:
|
|
Make my aunt merry with some pleasing tale.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS ANDRONICUS Alas, the tender boy, in passion moved,
|
|
Doth weep to see his grandsire's heaviness.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS 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 ANDRONICUS At that that I have kill'd, my lord; a fly.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS Out on thee, murderer! thou kill'st my heart;
|
|
Mine eyes are cloy'd 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 ANDRONICUS Alas, my lord, I have but kill'd a fly.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS 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
|
|
kill'd him.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS ANDRONICUS Pardon me, sir; it was a black ill-favor'd fly,
|
|
Like to the empress' Moor; therefore I kill'd him.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS 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 ANDRONICUS Alas, poor man! grief has so wrought on him,
|
|
He takes false shadows for true substances.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS 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.
|
|
|
|
[Exeunt]
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS
|
|
|
|
ACT IV
|
|
|
|
SCENE I Rome. Titus's garden.
|
|
|
|
[Enter young LUCIUS, and LAVINIA running after him,
|
|
and the boy flies from her, with books under his
|
|
arm. Then enter TITUS and MARCUS]
|
|
|
|
Young LUCIUS Help, grandsire, help! my aunt Lavinia
|
|
Follows me every where, I know not why:
|
|
Good uncle Marcus, see how swift she comes.
|
|
Alas, sweet aunt, I know not what you mean.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS ANDRONICUS Stand by me, Lucius; do not fear thine aunt.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS She loves thee, boy, too well to do thee harm.
|
|
|
|
Young LUCIUS Ay, when my father was in Rome she did.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS ANDRONICUS What means my niece Lavinia by these signs?
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS 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 ANDRONICUS 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 through 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 ANDRONICUS Lucius, I will.
|
|
|
|
[LAVINIA turns over with her stumps the books which
|
|
LUCIUS has let fall]
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS 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.
|
|
But thou art deeper read, and better skill'd
|
|
Come, and take choice of all my library,
|
|
And so beguile thy sorrow, till the heavens
|
|
Reveal the damn'd contriver of this deed.
|
|
Why lifts she up her arms in sequence thus?
|
|
|
|
MARCUS ANDRONICUS I think she means that there was more than one
|
|
Confederate in the fact: ay, more there was;
|
|
Or else to heaven she heaves them for revenge.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS Lucius, what book is that she tosseth so?
|
|
|
|
Young LUCIUS Grandsire, 'tis Ovid's Metamorphoses;
|
|
My mother gave it me.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS ANDRONICUS For love of her that's gone,
|
|
Perhaps she cull'd it from among the rest.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS Soft! see how busily she turns the leaves!
|
|
|
|
[Helping 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 thine annoy.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS ANDRONICUS See, brother, see; note how she quotes the leaves.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS Lavinia, wert thou thus surprised, sweet girl,
|
|
Ravish'd and wrong'd, 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!--
|
|
Pattern'd by that the poet here describes,
|
|
By nature made for murders and for rapes.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS ANDRONICUS O, why should nature build so foul a den,
|
|
Unless the gods delight in tragedies?
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS 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 ANDRONICUS Sit down, sweet niece: brother, sit down by me.
|
|
Apollo, Pallas, Jove, or Mercury,
|
|
Inspire me, that I may this treason find!
|
|
My lord, look here: look here, Lavinia:
|
|
This sandy plot is plain; guide, if thou canst
|
|
This after me, when I have writ my name
|
|
Without the help of any hand at all.
|
|
|
|
[He writes his name with his staff, and guides it
|
|
with feet and mouth]
|
|
|
|
Cursed be that heart that forced us to this shift!
|
|
Write thou good niece; and here display, at last,
|
|
What God will have discover'd 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]
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS O, do ye read, my lord, what she hath writ?
|
|
'Stuprum. Chiron. Demetrius.'
|
|
|
|
MARCUS ANDRONICUS What, what! the lustful sons of Tamora
|
|
Performers of this heinous, bloody deed?
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS Magni Dominator poli,
|
|
Tam lentus audis scelera? tam lentus vides?
|
|
|
|
MARCUS ANDRONICUS 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;
|
|
And swear with me, as, with the woful fere
|
|
And father of that chaste dishonour'd dame,
|
|
Lord Junius Brutus sware 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.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS 'Tis sure enough, an you knew how.
|
|
But if you hunt these bear-whelps, then beware:
|
|
The dam will wake; and, 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 it 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 your lesson, then? Boy, what say you?
|
|
|
|
Young LUCIUS I say, my lord, that if I were a man,
|
|
Their mother's bed-chamber should not be safe
|
|
For these bad bondmen to the yoke of Rome.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS ANDRONICUS 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 ANDRONICUS Come, go with me into mine armoury;
|
|
Lucius, I'll fit thee; and withal, my boy,
|
|
Shalt carry from me to the empress' sons
|
|
Presents that I intend to send them both:
|
|
Come, come; thou'lt do thy message, wilt thou not?
|
|
|
|
Young LUCIUS Ay, with my dagger in their bosoms, grandsire.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS 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.
|
|
|
|
[Exeunt TITUS, LAVINIA, and Young LUCIUS]
|
|
|
|
MARCUS ANDRONICUS 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 batter'd shield;
|
|
But yet so just that he will not revenge.
|
|
Revenge, ye heavens, for old Andronicus!
|
|
|
|
[Exit]
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS
|
|
|
|
ACT IV
|
|
|
|
SCENE II The same. A room in the palace.
|
|
|
|
[Enter, from one side, AARON, DEMETRIUS, and
|
|
CHIRON; from the other side, Young LUCIUS, and an
|
|
Attendant, 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 honours 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 decipher'd, that's the news,
|
|
For villains mark'd with rape.--May it please you,
|
|
My grandsire, well advised, hath sent by me
|
|
The goodliest weapons of his armoury
|
|
To gratify your honourable youth,
|
|
The hope of Rome; for so he bade 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.
|
|
|
|
[Exeunt Young LUCIUS, and Attendant]
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS What's here? A scroll; and written round about?
|
|
Let's see;
|
|
|
|
[Reads]
|
|
|
|
'Integer vitae, scelerisque purus,
|
|
Non eget Mauri jaculis, 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 within]
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS Why do the emperor's trumpets flourish thus?
|
|
|
|
CHIRON Belike, for joy the emperor hath a son.
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS Soft! who comes here?
|
|
|
|
[Enter a 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 thine arms?
|
|
|
|
Nurse O, that which I would hide from heaven's eye,
|
|
Our empress' shame, and stately Rome's disgrace!
|
|
She is deliver'd, lords; she is deliver'd.
|
|
|
|
AARON To whom?
|
|
|
|
Nurse I mean, she is brought a-bed.
|
|
|
|
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 fairest 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, ye whore! is black so base a hue?
|
|
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.
|
|
Woe to her chance, and damn'd 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 Sooner this sword shall plough thy bowels up.
|
|
|
|
[Takes the Child from the Nurse, and draws]
|
|
|
|
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 first-born son and heir!
|
|
I tell you, younglings, not Enceladus,
|
|
With all his threatening 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, ye sanguine, shallow-hearted boys!
|
|
Ye white-limed walls! ye 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 vigour 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 the 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 imprison'd 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.
|
|
|
|
[They sit]
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS 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.
|
|
But say, again; how many saw the child?
|
|
|
|
Nurse Cornelia the midwife and myself;
|
|
And no one else but the deliver'd 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 the nurse]
|
|
|
|
Weke, weke! 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 Muli lives, 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 ye, lords; ye see I have given her physic,
|
|
|
|
[Pointing to 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.
|
|
|
|
[Exeunt DEMETRIUS and CHIRON bearing off 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 lipp'd 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.
|
|
|
|
[Exit]
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS
|
|
|
|
ACT IV
|
|
|
|
SCENE III The same. A public place.
|
|
|
|
[Enter TITUS, bearing arrows with letters at the
|
|
ends of them; with him, MARCUS, Young LUCIUS,
|
|
PUBLIUS, SEMPRONIUS, CAIUS, and other Gentlemen,
|
|
with bows]
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS Come, Marcus; come, kinsmen; this is the way.
|
|
Sir boy, now let me see your archery;
|
|
Look ye draw home enough, and 'tis there straight.
|
|
Terras Astraea reliquit:
|
|
Be you remember'd, 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 centre 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 unsearch'd:
|
|
This wicked emperor may have shipp'd her hence;
|
|
And, kinsmen, then we may go pipe for justice.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS ANDRONICUS O Publius, is not this a heavy case,
|
|
To see thy noble uncle thus distract?
|
|
|
|
PUBLIUS Therefore, my lord, it highly us concerns
|
|
By day and night to attend him carefully,
|
|
And feed his humour kindly as we may,
|
|
Till time beget some careful remedy.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS ANDRONICUS Kinsmen, his sorrows are past remedy.
|
|
Join with the Goths; and with revengeful war
|
|
Take wreak on Rome for this ingratitude,
|
|
And vengeance on the traitor Saturnine.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS 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 employ'd,
|
|
He thinks, with Jove in heaven, or somewhere else,
|
|
So that perforce you must needs stay a time.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS 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 ANDRONICUS Kinsmen, shoot all your shafts into the court:
|
|
We will afflict the emperor in his pride.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS Now, masters, draw.
|
|
|
|
[They shoot]
|
|
O, well said, Lucius!
|
|
Good boy, in Virgo's lap; give it Pallas.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS ANDRONICUS My lord, I aim a mile beyond the moon;
|
|
Your letter is with Jupiter by this.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS Ha, ha!
|
|
Publius, Publius, what hast thou done?
|
|
See, see, thou hast shot off one of Taurus' horns.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS ANDRONICUS This was the sport, my lord: when Publius shot,
|
|
The Bull, being gall'd, 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 laugh'd, and told the Moor he should not choose
|
|
But give them to his master for a present.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS Why, there it goes: God give his lordship joy!
|
|
|
|
[Enter a Clown, 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?
|
|
|
|
Clown O, the gibbet-maker! he says that he hath taken
|
|
them down again, for the man must not be hanged till
|
|
the next week.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS But what says Jupiter, I ask thee?
|
|
|
|
Clown Alas, sir, I know not Jupiter; I never drank with him
|
|
in all my life.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS Why, villain, art not thou the carrier?
|
|
|
|
Clown Ay, of my pigeons, sir; nothing else.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS Why, didst thou not come from heaven?
|
|
|
|
Clown 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 emperial's men.
|
|
|
|
MARCUS ANDRONICUS 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 ANDRONICUS Tell me, can you deliver an oration to the emperor
|
|
with a grace?
|
|
|
|
Clown Nay, truly, sir, I could never say grace in all my life.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS 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 a supplication?
|
|
|
|
Clown Ay, sir.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS 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.
|
|
|
|
Clown I warrant you, sir, let me alone.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS Sirrah, hast thou a knife? come, let me see it.
|
|
Here, Marcus, fold it in the oration;
|
|
For thou hast made it like an humble suppliant.
|
|
And when thou hast given it the emperor,
|
|
Knock at my door, and tell me what he says.
|
|
|
|
Clown God be with you, sir; I will.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS Come, Marcus, let us go. Publius, follow me.
|
|
|
|
[Exeunt]
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS
|
|
|
|
ACT IV
|
|
|
|
SCENE IV The same. Before the palace.
|
|
|
|
[Enter SATURNINUS, TAMORA, DEMETRIUS, CHIRON,
|
|
Lords, and others; SATURNINUS with the arrows in
|
|
his hand that TITUS shot]
|
|
|
|
SATURNINUS Why, lords, what wrongs are these! was ever seen
|
|
An emperor in Rome thus overborne,
|
|
Troubled, confronted thus; and, for the extent
|
|
Of egal justice, used in such contempt?
|
|
My lords, you know, as know the mightful gods,
|
|
However these disturbers of our peace
|
|
Buz in the people's ears, there nought hath pass'd,
|
|
But even with law, against the willful sons
|
|
Of old Andronicus. And what an if
|
|
His sorrows have so overwhelm'd 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 libelling against the senate,
|
|
And blazoning our injustice every where?
|
|
A goodly humour, 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 she sleep,
|
|
He'll so awake as she 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,
|
|
The effects of sorrow for his valiant sons,
|
|
Whose loss hath pierced him deep and scarr'd 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 life-blood out: if Aaron now be wise,
|
|
Then is all safe, the anchor's in the port.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Clown]
|
|
|
|
How now, good fellow! wouldst thou speak with us?
|
|
|
|
Clown Yea, forsooth, an your mistership be emperial.
|
|
|
|
TAMORA Empress I am, but yonder sits the emperor.
|
|
|
|
Clown 'Tis he. God and Saint Stephen give you good den:
|
|
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.
|
|
|
|
Clown How much money must I have?
|
|
|
|
TAMORA Come, sirrah, you must be hanged.
|
|
|
|
Clown Hanged! by'r lady, then I have brought up a neck to
|
|
a fair end.
|
|
|
|
[Exit, guarded]
|
|
|
|
SATURNINUS Despiteful and intolerable wrongs!
|
|
Shall I endure this monstrous villany?
|
|
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 butcher'd wrongfully!
|
|
Go, drag the villain hither by the hair;
|
|
Nor age nor honour 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 AEMILIUS]
|
|
|
|
What news with thee, AEmilius?
|
|
|
|
AEMILIUS Arm, arm, my lord;--Rome never had more cause.
|
|
The Goths have gather'd head; and with a power
|
|
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 begin our sorrows to approach:
|
|
'Tis he the common people love so much;
|
|
Myself hath often over-heard them say,
|
|
When I have walked like a private man,
|
|
That Lucius' banishment was wrongfully,
|
|
And they have wish'd 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 dimm'd, 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,
|
|
When as 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 ear
|
|
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, 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 honourably:
|
|
And if he stand on hostage for his safety,
|
|
Bid him demand what pledge will please him best.
|
|
|
|
AEMILIUS Your bidding shall I do effectually.
|
|
|
|
[Exit]
|
|
|
|
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.
|
|
|
|
[Exeunt]
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS
|
|
|
|
ACT V
|
|
|
|
SCENE I Plains near Rome.
|
|
|
|
[Enter LUCIUS with an army of Goths, with drum and colours]
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS Approved warriors, and my faithful friends,
|
|
I have received letters from great Rome,
|
|
Which signify 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 scath,
|
|
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 honourable 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.
|
|
|
|
All the 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 AARON with his Child in his arms]
|
|
|
|
Second Goth Renowned Lucius, from our troops I stray'd
|
|
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 controll'd with this discourse:
|
|
'Peace, tawny slave, half me and half thy dam!
|
|
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 rush'd 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 robb'd Andronicus of his good hand;
|
|
This is the pearl that pleased your empress' eye,
|
|
And here's the base fruit of his burning lust.
|
|
Say, wall-eyed slave, whither wouldst thou convey
|
|
This growing image of thy fiend-like 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 brought, which AARON is made to ascend]
|
|
|
|
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: an if it please me which thou speak'st
|
|
Thy child shall live, and I will see it nourish'd.
|
|
|
|
AARON An 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, villanies
|
|
Ruthful to hear, yet piteously perform'd:
|
|
And this shall all be buried by 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
|
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And keeps the oath which by that god he swears,
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To that I'll urge him: therefore thou shalt vow
|
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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;
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Or else I will discover nought to thee.
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LUCIUS Even by my god I swear to thee I will.
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AARON First know thou, I begot him on the empress.
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LUCIUS O most insatiate and luxurious woman!
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AARON Tut, Lucius, this was but a deed of charity
|
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To that which thou shalt hear of me anon.
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'Twas her two sons that murder'd Bassianus;
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They cut thy sister's tongue and ravish'd her
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And cut her hands and trimm'd her as thou saw'st.
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LUCIUS O detestable villain! call'st thou that trimming?
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AARON Why, she was wash'd and cut and trimm'd, and 'twas
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Trim sport for them that had the doing of it.
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LUCIUS O barbarous, beastly villains, like thyself!
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AARON Indeed, I was their tutor to instruct them:
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That codding spirit had they from their mother,
|
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As sure a card as ever won the set;
|
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That bloody mind, I think, they learn'd of me,
|
|
As true a dog as ever fought at head.
|
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Well, let my deeds be witness of my worth.
|
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I train'd 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 the letter mention'd,
|
|
Confederate with the queen and her two sons:
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And what not done, that thou hast cause to rue,
|
|
Wherein I had no stroke of mischief in it?
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I play'd the cheater for thy father's hand,
|
|
And, when I had it, drew myself apart
|
|
And almost broke my heart with extreme laughter:
|
|
I pry'd me through the crevice of a wall
|
|
When, for his hand, he had his two sons' heads;
|
|
Beheld his tears, and laugh'd so heartily,
|
|
That both mine eyes were rainy like to his :
|
|
And when I told the empress of this sport,
|
|
She swooned almost at my pleasing tale,
|
|
And for my tidings gave me twenty kisses.
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First Goth What, canst thou say all this, and never blush?
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AARON Ay, like a black dog, as the saying is.
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LUCIUS Art thou not sorry for these heinous deeds?
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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 hay-stacks in the night,
|
|
And bid the owners quench them with their tears.
|
|
Oft have I digg'd up dead men from their graves,
|
|
And set them upright at their dear friends' doors,
|
|
Even when their sorrows almost were 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.'
|
|
Tut, 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 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.
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|
|
[Enter a Goth]
|
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|
|
Third Goth My lord, there is a messenger from Rome
|
|
Desires to be admitted to your presence.
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|
|
LUCIUS Let him come near.
|
|
|
|
[Enter AEMILIUS]
|
|
|
|
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 deliver'd.
|
|
|
|
First 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.
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[Exeunt]
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TITUS ANDRONICUS
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ACT V
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|
SCENE II Rome. Before TITUS's house.
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|
|
[Enter TAMORA, DEMETRIUS, and CHIRON, disguised]
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|
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|
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]
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|
|
[Enter TITUS, above]
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS 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.
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|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS 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.
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|
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TAMORA If thou didst know me, thou wouldest talk with me.
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|
|
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TITUS ANDRONICUS 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?
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|
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TAMORA Know, thou sad man, I am not Tamora;
|
|
She is thy enemy, and I thy friend:
|
|
I am Revenge: sent from the 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.
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|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS Art thou Revenge? and art thou sent to me,
|
|
To be a torment to mine enemies?
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|
|
TAMORA I am; therefore come down, and welcome me.
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|
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TITUS ANDRONICUS Do me some service, ere I come to thee.
|
|
Lo, by thy side where Rape and Murder stands;
|
|
Now give me some surance that thou art Revenge,
|
|
Stab them, or tear them on thy chariot-wheels;
|
|
And then I'll come and be thy waggoner,
|
|
And whirl along with thee about the globe.
|
|
Provide thee two proper palfreys, black as jet,
|
|
To hale thy vengeful waggon swift away,
|
|
And find out murderers in their guilty caves:
|
|
And when thy car is loaden with their heads,
|
|
I will dismount, and by the waggon-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.
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|
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TAMORA These are my ministers, and come with me.
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|
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TITUS ANDRONICUS Are these thy ministers? what are they call'd?
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|
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TAMORA Rapine and Murder; therefore called so,
|
|
Cause they take vengeance of such kind of men.
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|
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TITUS ANDRONICUS 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.
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|
|
[Exit above]
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TAMORA This closing with him fits his lunacy
|
|
Whate'er I forge to feed his brain-sick fits,
|
|
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 practise 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 below]
|
|
|
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TITUS ANDRONICUS Long have I been forlorn, and all for thee:
|
|
Welcome, dread Fury, to my woful 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 have done thee wrong,
|
|
And I will be revenged on them all.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS Look round about the wicked streets of Rome;
|
|
And when thou find'st a man that's like thyself.
|
|
Good Murder, stab him; he's a murderer.
|
|
Go thou with him; and when it is thy hap
|
|
To find another that is like to thee,
|
|
Good Rapine, stab him; he's a ravisher.
|
|
Go thou with them; and in the emperor's court
|
|
There is a queen, attended by a Moor;
|
|
Well mayst thou know her by thy 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 lesson'd 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 shalt they stoop and kneel,
|
|
And on them shalt thou ease thy angry heart.
|
|
What says Andronicus to this device?
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS 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 ANDRONICUS This will I do, and soon return again.
|
|
|
|
[Exit]
|
|
|
|
TAMORA Now will I hence about thy business,
|
|
And take my ministers along with me.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS 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 her sons] What say you, boys? will you
|
|
bide with him,
|
|
Whiles I go tell my lord the emperor
|
|
How I have govern'd our determined jest?
|
|
Yield to his humour, smooth and speak him fair,
|
|
And tarry with him till I turn again.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS [Aside] I know them all, though they suppose me mad,
|
|
And will o'erreach them in their own devices:
|
|
A pair of cursed hell-hounds and their dam!
|
|
|
|
DEMETRIUS Madam, depart at pleasure; leave us here.
|
|
|
|
TAMORA Farewell, Andronicus: Revenge now goes
|
|
To lay a complot to betray thy foes.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS I know thou dost; and, sweet Revenge, farewell.
|
|
|
|
[Exit TAMORA]
|
|
|
|
CHIRON Tell us, old man, how shall we be employ'd?
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS Tut, I have work enough for you to do.
|
|
Publius, come hither, Caius, and Valentine!
|
|
|
|
[Enter PUBLIUS and others]
|
|
|
|
PUBLIUS What is your will?
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS Know you these two?
|
|
|
|
PUBLIUS The empress' sons, I take them, Chiron and Demetrius.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS Fie, Publius, fie! thou art too much deceived;
|
|
The one is Murder, 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.
|
|
|
|
[Exit]
|
|
|
|
[PUBLIUS, &c. lay hold on CHIRON and DEMETRIUS]
|
|
|
|
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.
|
|
|
|
[Re-enter TITUS, with LAVINIA; he bearing a knife,
|
|
and she a basin]
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS 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 stain'd with mud,
|
|
This goodly summer with your winter mix'd.
|
|
You kill'd her husband, and for that vile fault
|
|
Two of her brothers were condemn'd 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 constrain'd 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,
|
|
Whilst 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 unhallow'd 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 Progne I will be revenged:
|
|
And now prepare your throats. Lavinia, come,
|
|
|
|
[He cuts their throats]
|
|
|
|
Receive the blood: 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 every one 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 'gainst their mother comes.
|
|
|
|
[Exeunt, bearing the dead bodies]
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS
|
|
|
|
ACT V
|
|
|
|
SCENE III Court of TITUS's house. A banquet set out.
|
|
|
|
[Enter LUCIUS, MARCUS, and Goths, with AARON prisoner]
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS Uncle Marcus, since it is 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 sustenance, 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 mine ear,
|
|
And prompt me, that my tongue may utter forth
|
|
The venomous malice of my swelling heart!
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS Away, inhuman dog! unhallow'd slave!
|
|
Sirs, help our uncle to convey him in.
|
|
|
|
[Exeunt Goths, with AARON. Flourish within]
|
|
|
|
The trumpets show the emperor is at hand.
|
|
|
|
[Enter SATURNINUS and TAMORA, with AEMILIUS,
|
|
Tribunes, Senators, and others]
|
|
|
|
SATURNINUS What, hath the firmament more suns than one?
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS What boots it thee to call thyself a sun?
|
|
|
|
MARCUS ANDRONICUS Rome's emperor, and nephew, break the parle;
|
|
These quarrels must be quietly debated.
|
|
The feast is ready, which the careful Titus
|
|
Hath ordain'd to an honourable end,
|
|
For peace, for love, for league, and good to Rome:
|
|
Please you, therefore, draw nigh, and take your places.
|
|
|
|
SATURNINUS Marcus, we will.
|
|
|
|
[Hautboys sound. The Company sit down at table]
|
|
|
|
[Enter TITUS dressed like a Cook, LAVINIA veiled,
|
|
Young LUCIUS, and others. TITUS places the dishes
|
|
on the table]
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS Welcome, my gracious lord; welcome, dread queen;
|
|
Welcome, ye warlike Goths; welcome, Lucius;
|
|
And welcome, all: although the cheer be poor,
|
|
'Twill fill your stomachs; please you eat of it.
|
|
|
|
SATURNINUS Why art thou thus attired, Andronicus?
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS 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 ANDRONICUS 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, stain'd, and deflower'd?
|
|
|
|
SATURNINUS It was, Andronicus.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS Your reason, mighty lord?
|
|
|
|
SATURNINUS Because the girl should not survive her shame,
|
|
And by her presence still renew his sorrows.
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS 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;
|
|
|
|
[Kills LAVINIA]
|
|
|
|
And, with thy shame, thy father's sorrow die!
|
|
|
|
SATURNINUS What hast thou done, unnatural and unkind?
|
|
|
|
TITUS ANDRONICUS Kill'd her, for whom my tears have made me blind.
|
|
I am as woful as Virginius was,
|
|
And have a thousand times more cause than he
|
|
To do this outrage: and it now is done.
|
|
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SATURNINUS What, was she ravish'd? tell who did the deed.
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TITUS ANDRONICUS Will't please you eat? will't please your
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highness feed?
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TAMORA Why hast thou slain thine only daughter thus?
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TITUS ANDRONICUS Not I; 'twas Chiron and Demetrius:
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They ravish'd her, and cut away her tongue;
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And they, 'twas they, that did her all this wrong.
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SATURNINUS Go fetch them hither to us presently.
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TITUS ANDRONICUS Why, there they are both, baked in that pie;
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Whereof their mother daintily hath fed,
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Eating the flesh that she herself hath bred.
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'Tis true, 'tis true; witness my knife's sharp point.
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[Kills TAMORA]
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SATURNINUS Die, frantic wretch, for this accursed deed!
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[Kills TITUS]
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LUCIUS Can the son's eye behold his father bleed?
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There's meed for meed, death for a deadly deed!
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[Kills SATURNINUS. A great tumult. LUCIUS, MARCUS,
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and others go up into the balcony]
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MARCUS ANDRONICUS You sad-faced men, people and sons of Rome,
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By uproar sever'd, like a flight of fowl
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Scatter'd by winds and high tempestuous gusts,
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O, let me teach you how to knit again
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This scatter'd corn into one mutual sheaf,
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These broken limbs again into one body;
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Lest Rome herself be bane unto herself,
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And she whom mighty kingdoms court'sy to,
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Like a forlorn and desperate castaway,
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Do shameful execution on herself.
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But if my frosty signs and chaps of age,
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Grave witnesses of true experience,
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Cannot induce you to attend my words,
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[To LUCIUS]
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Speak, Rome's dear friend, as erst our ancestor,
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When with his solemn tongue he did discourse
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To love-sick Dido's sad attending ear
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|
The story of that baleful burning night
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|
When subtle Greeks surprised King Priam's Troy,
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|
Tell us what Sinon hath bewitch'd our ears,
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|
Or who hath brought the fatal engine in
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|
That gives our Troy, our Rome, the civil wound.
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|
My heart is not compact of flint nor steel;
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|
Nor can I utter all our bitter grief,
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|
But floods of tears will drown my oratory,
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|
And break my utterance, even in the time
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|
When it should move you to attend me most,
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Lending your kind commiseration.
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Here is a captain, let him tell the tale;
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Your hearts will throb and weep to hear him speak.
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LUCIUS Then, noble auditory, be it known to you,
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That cursed Chiron and Demetrius
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Were they that murdered our emperor's brother;
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And they it were that ravished our sister:
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For their fell faults our brothers were beheaded;
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Our father's tears despised, and basely cozen'd
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Of that true hand that fought Rome's quarrel out,
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And sent her enemies unto the grave.
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|
Lastly, myself unkindly banished,
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The gates shut on me, and turn'd weeping out,
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To beg relief among Rome's enemies:
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Who drown'd their enmity in my true tears.
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And oped their arms to embrace me as a friend.
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I am the turned forth, be it known to you,
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That have preserved her welfare in my blood;
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And from her bosom took the enemy's point,
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Sheathing the steel in my adventurous body.
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|
Alas, you know I am no vaunter, I;
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|
My scars can witness, dumb although they are,
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|
That my report is just and full of truth.
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But, soft! methinks I do digress too much,
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|
Citing my worthless praise: O, pardon me;
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For when no friends are by, men praise themselves.
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MARCUS ANDRONICUS Now is my turn to speak. Behold this child:
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[Pointing to the Child in the arms of an Attendant]
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|
Of this was Tamora delivered;
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The issue of an irreligious Moor,
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Chief architect and plotter of these woes:
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|
The villain is alive in Titus' house,
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|
And as he is, to witness this is true.
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|
Now judge what cause had Titus to revenge
|
|
These wrongs, unspeakable, past patience,
|
|
Or more than any living man could bear.
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|
Now you have heard the truth, what say you, Romans?
|
|
Have we done aught amiss,--show us wherein,
|
|
And, from the place where you behold us now,
|
|
The poor remainder of Andronici
|
|
Will, hand in hand, all headlong cast us down.
|
|
And on the ragged stones beat forth our brains,
|
|
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.
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|
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|
AEMILIUS Come, come, thou reverend man of Rome,
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|
And bring our emperor gently in thy hand,
|
|
Lucius our emperor; for well I know
|
|
The common voice do cry it shall be so.
|
|
|
|
All Lucius, all hail, Rome's royal emperor!
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|
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|
MARCUS ANDRONICUS Go, go into old Titus' sorrowful house,
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|
|
|
[To Attendants]
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|
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|
And hither hale that misbelieving Moor,
|
|
To be adjudged some direful slaughtering death,
|
|
As punishment for his most wicked life.
|
|
|
|
[Exeunt Attendants]
|
|
|
|
[LUCIUS, MARCUS, and the others descend]
|
|
|
|
All 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.
|
|
O, take this warm kiss on thy pale cold lips,
|
|
|
|
[Kissing TITUS]
|
|
|
|
These sorrowful drops upon thy blood-stain'd face,
|
|
The last true duties of thy noble son!
|
|
|
|
MARCUS ANDRONICUS Tear for tear, and loving kiss for kiss,
|
|
Thy brother Marcus tenders on thy lips:
|
|
O were the sum of these that I should pay
|
|
Countless and infinite, yet would I pay them!
|
|
|
|
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 matter hath he told to thee,
|
|
Meet and agreeing with thine infancy;
|
|
In that respect, then, like a loving child,
|
|
Shed yet some small drops from thy tender spring,
|
|
Because kind nature doth require it so:
|
|
Friends should associate friends in grief and woe:
|
|
Bid him farewell; commit him to the grave;
|
|
Do him that kindness, and take leave of him.
|
|
|
|
Young LUCIUS O grandsire, grandsire! even with all my heart
|
|
Would I were dead, so you did live again!
|
|
O Lord, I cannot speak to him for weeping;
|
|
My tears will choke me, if I ope my mouth.
|
|
|
|
[Re-enter Attendants with AARON]
|
|
|
|
AEMILIUS 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 any one relieves or pities him,
|
|
For the offence he dies. This is our doom:
|
|
Some stay to see him fasten'd in the earth.
|
|
|
|
AARON O, 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.
|
|
|
|
LUCIUS Some loving friends convey the emperor hence,
|
|
And give him burial in his father's grave:
|
|
My father and Lavinia shall forthwith
|
|
Be closed in our household's monument.
|
|
As for that heinous tiger, Tamora,
|
|
No funeral rite, nor man m mourning weeds,
|
|
No mournful bell shall ring her burial;
|
|
But throw her forth to beasts and birds of prey:
|
|
Her life was beast-like, and devoid of pity;
|
|
And, being so, shall have like want of pity.
|
|
See justice done on Aaron, that damn'd Moor,
|
|
By whom our heavy haps had their beginning:
|
|
Then, afterwards, to order well the state,
|
|
That like events may ne'er it ruinate.
|
|
|
|
[Exeunt]
|