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Titus Andronicus overflows with death and violence. Twenty-one sons of the Roman general Titus Andronicus have died in battle, leaving four alive. After defeating the Goths, Titus permits the sacrifice of the oldest son of their queen, Tamora.
Titus helps Saturninus become emperor. Saturninus plans to marry Titus’s daughter, Lavinia. Instead, she marries Bassianus, aided by Titus’s sons, one of whom Titus kills. Saturninus then marries Tamora. The stage is set for multiple revenge plots.
Tamora’s lover, Aaron the Moor, instructs her two sons to kill Bassianus, then falsely implicates two of Titus’s sons. Tamora’s sons also rape Lavinia, cutting off her tongue and hands. To save his sons from execution, Titus cuts off his own hand, but Aaron sends him their heads.
Lucius, Titus’s last son, leads an army of Goths against Rome. Titus kills Tamora’s sons and serves them to her in a pie. In the ensuing events, Lavinia, Tamora, Titus, and Saturninus all die. Lucius becomes emperor and sentences Aaron to death.
ACT 1
Scene 1
Andronicus ) and Senators aloft . And then enter , below ,
Saturninus and his followers at one door , and
Bassianus and his followers at another door , with
other Romans , Drums , and Trumpets .
Defend the justice of my cause with arms .
And countrymen , my loving followers ,
Plead my successive title with your swords .
I am his firstborn son that was the last
That wore the imperial diadem of Rome .
Then let my father’s honors live in me ,
Nor wrong mine age with this indignity .
If ever Bassianus , Caesar’s son ,
Were gracious in the eyes of royal Rome ,
Keep , then , this passage to the Capitol ,
And suffer not dishonor to approach
The imperial seat , to virtue consecrate ,
To justice , continence , and nobility ;
But let desert in pure election shine ,
And , Romans , fight for freedom in your choice .
[9]ACT 1. SC. 1
crown )
Ambitiously for rule and empery ,
Know that the people of Rome , for whom we stand
A special party , have by common voice ,
In election for the Roman empery ,
Chosen Andronicus , surnamèd Pius
For many good and great deserts to Rome .
A nobler man , a braver warrior ,
Lives not this day within the city walls .
He by the Senate is accited home
From weary wars against the barbarous Goths ,
That with his sons , a terror to our foes ,
Hath yoked a nation strong , trained up in arms .
Ten years are spent since first he undertook
This cause of Rome , and chastisèd with arms
Our enemies’ pride . Five times he hath returned
Bleeding to Rome , bearing his valiant sons
In coffins from the field .
And now at last , laden with honor’s spoils ,
Returns the good Andronicus to Rome ,
Renownèd Titus flourishing in arms .
Let us entreat , by honor of his name
Whom worthily you would have now succeed ,
And in the Capitol and Senate’s right ,
Whom you pretend to honor and adore ,
That you withdraw you and abate your strength ,
Dismiss your followers and , as suitors should ,
Plead your deserts in peace and humbleness .
In thy uprightness and integrity ,
[11] ACT 1. SC. 1 And so I love and honor thee and thine ,
Thy noble brother Titus and his sons ,
And her to whom my thoughts are humbled all ,
Gracious Lavinia , Rome’s rich ornament ,
That I will here dismiss my loving friends ,
And to my fortunes and the people’s favor
Commit my cause in balance to be weighed .
I thank you all and here dismiss you all ,
And to the love and favor of my country
Commit myself , my person , and the cause .
Rome , be as just and gracious unto me
As I am confident and kind to thee .
Open the gates and let me in .
The Tribunes and Senators exit from the upper stage .
Patron of virtue , Rome’s best champion ,
Successful in the battles that he fights ,
With honor and with fortune is returned
From where he circumscribèd with his sword
And brought to yoke the enemies of Rome .
sons ( Lucius and Mutius ) and then two men bearing a
coffin covered with black , then two other sons ( Martius
and Quintus ) , then Titus Andronicus , and then Tamora
the Queen of Goths and her sons Alarbus , Chiron and
[13] ACT 1. SC. 1 Demetrius , with Aaron the Moor , and others as many as
can be , then set down the coffin , and Titus speaks .
Lo , as the bark that hath discharged his fraught
Returns with precious lading to the bay
From whence at first she weighed her anchorage ,
Cometh Andronicus , bound with laurel boughs ,
To resalute his country with his tears ,
Tears of true joy for his return to Rome .
Thou great defender of this Capitol ,
Stand gracious to the rites that we intend .
Romans , of five-and-twenty valiant sons ,
Half of the number that King Priam had ,
Behold the poor remains alive and dead .
These that survive let Rome reward with love ;
These that I bring unto their latest home ,
With burial amongst their ancestors .
Here Goths have given me leave to sheathe my sword .
Titus , unkind and careless of thine own ,
Why suffer’st thou thy sons unburied yet
To hover on the dreadful shore of Styx ?
Make way to lay them by their brethren .
There greet in silence , as the dead are wont ,
And sleep in peace , slain in your country’s wars .
O sacred receptacle of my joys ,
Sweet cell of virtue and nobility ,
How many sons hast thou of mine in store
That thou wilt never render to me more ?
That we may hew his limbs and on a pile ,
Ad manes fratrum , sacrifice his flesh
Before this earthy prison of their bones ,
That so the shadows be not unappeased ,
Nor we disturbed with prodigies on Earth .
[15]ACT 1. SC. 1
The eldest son of this distressèd queen .
Victorious Titus , rue the tears I shed ,
A mother’s tears in passion for her son .
And if thy sons were ever dear to thee ,
O think my son to be as dear to me .
Sufficeth not that we are brought to Rome
To beautify thy triumphs and return
Captive to thee and to thy Roman yoke ,
But must my sons be slaughtered in the streets
For valiant doings in their country’s cause ?
O , if to fight for king and commonweal
Were piety in thine , it is in these !
Andronicus , stain not thy tomb with blood .
Wilt thou draw near the nature of the gods ?
Draw near them then in being merciful .
Sweet mercy is nobility’s true badge .
Thrice-noble Titus , spare my first-born son .
These are their brethren whom your Goths beheld
Alive and dead , and for their brethren slain
Religiously they ask a sacrifice .
To this your son is marked , and die he must ,
T’ appease their groaning shadows that are gone .
And with our swords upon a pile of wood
Let’s hew his limbs till they be clean consumed .
[17]ACT 1. SC. 1
Alarbus goes to rest and we survive
To tremble under Titus’ threat’ning look .
Then , madam , stand resolved , but hope withal
The selfsame gods that armed the Queen of Troy
With opportunity of sharp revenge
Upon the Thracian tyrant in his tent
May favor Tamora the Queen of Goths
( When Goths were Goths , and Tamora was queen )
To quit the bloody wrongs upon her foes .
Our Roman rites . Alarbus’ limbs are lopped ,
And entrails feed the sacrificing fire ,
Whose smoke like incense doth perfume the sky .
Remaineth naught but to inter our brethren ,
And with loud larums welcome them to Rome .
Make this his latest farewell to their souls .
In peace and honor rest you here , my sons ,
Rome’s readiest champions , repose you here in rest ,
Secure from worldly chances and mishaps .
Here lurks no treason , here no envy swells ,
Here grow no damnèd drugs ; here are no storms ,
No noise , but silence and eternal sleep .
In peace and honor rest you here , my sons .
[19]ACT 1. SC. 1
My noble lord and father , live in fame .
Lo , at this tomb my tributary tears
I render for my brethren’s obsequies ,
And at thy feet I kneel , with tears of joy
Shed on this earth for thy return to Rome .
O bless me here with thy victorious hand ,
Whose fortunes Rome’s best citizens applaud .
The cordial of mine age to glad my heart ! —
Lavinia , live , outlive thy father’s days
And fame’s eternal date , for virtue’s praise .
Enter aloft Saturninus , Bassianus , Tribunes , Senators ,
and Guards .
Gracious triumpher in the eyes of Rome .
You that survive , and you that sleep in fame .
Fair lords , your fortunes are alike in all ,
That in your country’s service drew your swords ;
But safer triumph is this funeral pomp ,
That hath aspired to Solon’s happiness ,
And triumphs over chance in honor’s bed . —
Titus Andronicus , the people of Rome ,
Whose friend in justice thou hast ever been ,
Send thee by me , their tribune and their trust ,
This palliament of white and spotless hue ,
[21] ACT 1. SC. 1 And name thee in election for the empire
With these our late deceasèd emperor’s sons .
Be candidatus , then , and put it on
And help to set a head on headless Rome .
Than his that shakes for age and feebleness .
this robe and trouble you ?
Be chosen with proclamations today ,
Tomorrow yield up rule , resign my life ,
And set abroad new business for you all ?
Rome , I have been thy soldier forty years ,
And led my country’s strength successfully ,
And buried one and twenty valiant sons ,
Knighted in field , slain manfully in arms ,
In right and service of their noble country .
Give me a staff of honor for mine age ,
But not a scepter to control the world .
Upright he held it , lords , that held it last .
Patricians , draw your swords and sheathe them not
Till Saturninus be Rome’s emperor . —
Andronicus , would thou were shipped to hell
Rather than rob me of the people’s hearts .
That noble-minded Titus means to thee .
The people’s hearts and wean them from themselves .
[23]ACT 1. SC. 1
But honor thee , and will do till I die .
My faction if thou strengthen with thy friends ,
I will most thankful be , and thanks , to men
Of noble minds , is honorable meed .
I ask your voices and your suffrages .
Will you bestow them friendly on Andronicus ?
And gratulate his safe return to Rome ,
The people will accept whom he admits .
That you create our emperor’s eldest son ,
Lord Saturnine , whose virtues will , I hope ,
Reflect on Rome as Titan’s rays on Earth
And ripen justice in this commonweal .
Then , if you will elect by my advice ,
Crown him and say ‘Long live our emperor .’
Patricians and plebeians , we create
Lord Saturninus Rome’s great emperor ,
And say ‘Long live our Emperor Saturnine .’
and Guards come down .
To us in our election this day ,
I give thee thanks in part of thy deserts ,
And will with deeds requite thy gentleness .
And for an onset , Titus , to advance
[25] ACT 1. SC. 1 Thy name and honorable family ,
Lavinia will I make my empress ,
Rome’s royal mistress , mistress of my heart ,
And in the sacred Pantheon her espouse .
Tell me , Andronicus , doth this motion please thee ?
I hold me highly honored of your Grace ;
And here in sight of Rome to Saturnine ,
King and commander of our commonweal ,
The wide world’s emperor , do I consecrate
My sword , my chariot , and my prisoners ,
Presents well worthy Rome’s imperious lord .
Receive them , then , the tribute that I owe ,
Mine honor’s ensigns humbled at thy feet .
How proud I am of thee and of thy gifts
Rome shall record . — And when I do forget
The least of these unspeakable deserts ,
Romans , forget your fealty to me .
To him that for your honor and your state
Will use you nobly , and your followers .
That I would choose , were I to choose anew . —
Clear up , fair queen , that cloudy countenance .
Though chance of war hath wrought this change
of cheer ,
Thou com’st not to be made a scorn in Rome .
Princely shall be thy usage every way .
Rest on my word , and let not discontent
Daunt all your hopes . Madam , he comforts you
Can make you greater than the Queen of Goths . —
Lavinia , you are not displeased with this ?
[27]ACT 1. SC. 1
Warrants these words in princely courtesy .
Ransomless here we set our prisoners free .
Proclaim our honors , lords , with trump and drum .
and Trumpets . Tribunes and Senators exit aloft .
To do myself this reason and this right .
This prince in justice seizeth but his own .
Treason , my lord . Lavinia is surprised .
Bear his betrothed from all the world away .
And with my sword I’ll keep this door safe .
Quintus , and Martius exit .
[29]ACT 1. SC. 1
Aaron , and Guards exit .
Barr’st me my way in Rome ?
In wrongful quarrel you have slain your son .
My sons would never so dishonor me .
Traitor , restore Lavinia to the Emperor .
and her two sons and Aaron the Moor .
That is another’s lawful promised love .
Nor her , nor thee , nor any of thy stock .
I’ll trust by leisure him that mocks me once ,
Thee never , nor thy traitorous haughty sons ,
Confederates all thus to dishonor me .
Was none in Rome to make a stale
But Saturnine ? Full well , Andronicus ,
Agree these deeds with that proud brag of thine
That said’st I begged the empire at thy hands .
[31]ACT 1. SC. 1
To him that flourished for her with his sword .
A valiant son-in-law thou shalt enjoy ,
One fit to bandy with thy lawless sons ,
To ruffle in the commonwealth of Rome .
That like the stately Phoebe ’mongst her nymphs
Dost overshine the gallant’st dames of Rome ,
If thou be pleased with this my sudden choice ,
Behold , I choose thee , Tamora , for my bride ,
And will create thee Emperess of Rome .
Speak , Queen of Goths , dost thou applaud my
choice ?
And here I swear by all the Roman gods ,
Sith priest and holy water are so near ,
And tapers burn so bright , and everything
In readiness for Hymenaeus stand ,
I will not resalute the streets of Rome
Or climb my palace till from forth this place
I lead espoused my bride along with me .
If Saturnine advance the Queen of Goths ,
She will a handmaid be to his desires ,
A loving nurse , a mother to his youth .
Your noble emperor and his lovely bride ,
Sent by the heavens for Prince Saturnine ,
[33] ACT 1. SC. 1 Whose wisdom hath her fortune conquerèd .
There shall we consummate our spousal rites .
Titus , when wert thou wont to walk alone ,
Dishonored thus and challengèd of wrongs ?
and Quintus .
In a bad quarrel slain a virtuous son .
Nor thou , nor these confederates in the deed
That hath dishonored all our family .
Unworthy brother and unworthy sons !
Give Mutius burial with our brethren .
This monument five hundred years hath stood ,
Which I have sumptuously reedified .
Here none but soldiers and Rome’s servitors
Repose in fame , none basely slain in brawls .
Bury him where you can . He comes not here .
My nephew Mutius’ deeds do plead for him .
He must be buried with his brethren .
[35]ACT 1. SC. 1
To pardon Mutius and to bury him .
And with these boys mine honor thou hast wounded .
My foes I do repute you every one .
So trouble me no more , but get you gone .
( Lucius , Martius , and Quintus ) kneel .
His noble nephew here in virtue’s nest ,
That died in honor and Lavinia’s cause .
Thou art a Roman ; be not barbarous .
The Greeks upon advice did bury Ajax ,
That slew himself , and wise Laertes’ son
Did graciously plead for his funerals .
[37] ACT 1. SC. 1 Let not young Mutius , then , that was thy joy ,
Be barred his entrance here .
The dismall’st day is this that e’er I saw ,
To be dishonored by my sons in Rome .
Well , bury him , and bury me the next .
Till we with trophies do adorn thy tomb .
He lives in fame , that died in virtue’s cause .
How comes it that the subtle Queen of Goths
Is of a sudden thus advanced in Rome ?
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 .
and her two sons , with Aaron the Moor , Drums and
Trumpets , at one door . Enter at the other door
Bassianus and Lavinia , with Lucius , Martius , and
Quintus , and others .
God give you joy , sir , of your gallant bride .
Nor wish no less , and so I take my leave .
[39]ACT 1. SC. 1
Thou and thy faction shall repent this rape .
My true betrothèd love and now my wife ?
But let the laws of Rome determine all .
Meanwhile am I possessed of that is mine .
But if we live , we’ll be as sharp with you .
Answer I must , and shall do with my life .
Only thus much I give your Grace to know :
By all the duties that I owe to Rome ,
This noble gentleman , Lord Titus here ,
Is in opinion and in honor wronged ,
That in the rescue of Lavinia
With his own hand did slay his youngest son ,
In zeal to you , and highly moved to wrath
To be controlled in that he frankly gave .
Receive him then to favor , Saturnine ,
That hath expressed himself in all his deeds
A father and a friend to thee and Rome .
’Tis thou , and those , that have dishonored me .
Rome and the righteous heavens be my judge
How I have loved and honored Saturnine .
Were gracious in those princely eyes of thine ,
Then hear me speak indifferently for all ,
And at my suit , sweet , pardon what is past .
[41]ACT 1. SC. 1
And basely put it up without revenge ?
I should be author to dishonor you .
But on mine honor dare I undertake
For good Lord Titus’ innocence in all ,
Whose fury not dissembled speaks his griefs .
Then at my suit look graciously on him .
Lose not so noble a friend on vain suppose ,
Nor with sour looks afflict his gentle heart .
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 .
Andronicus . —
Take up this good old man , and cheer the heart
That dies in tempest of thy angry frown .
These words , these looks , infuse new life in me .
[43]ACT 1. SC. 1
A Roman now adopted happily ,
And must advise the Emperor for his good .
This day all quarrels die , Andronicus . —
And let it be mine honor , good my lord ,
That I have reconciled your friends and you . —
For you , Prince Bassianus , I have passed
My word and promise to the Emperor
That you will be more mild and tractable . —
And fear not , lords — and you , Lavinia .
By my advice , all humbled on your knees ,
You shall ask pardon of his Majesty .
That what we did was mildly as we might ,
Tend’ring our sister’s honor and our own .
The tribune and his nephews kneel for grace .
I will not be denied . Sweetheart , look back .
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 ,
[45] ACT 1. SC. 1 You are my guest , Lavinia , and your friends . —
This day shall be a love-day , Tamora .
To hunt the panther and the hart with me ,
With horn and hound we’ll give your Grace bonjour .
[49]
ACT 2
Scene 1
Safe out of Fortune’s shot , and sits aloft ,
Secure of thunder’s crack or lightning flash ,
Advanced above pale Envy’s threat’ning reach .
As when the golden sun salutes the morn
And , having gilt the ocean with his beams ,
Gallops the zodiac in his glistering coach
And overlooks the highest-peering hills ,
So Tamora .
Upon her wit doth earthly honor wait ,
And virtue stoops and trembles at her frown .
Then , Aaron , arm thy heart and fit thy thoughts
To mount aloft with thy imperial mistress ,
And mount her pitch whom thou in triumph long
Hast prisoner held , fettered in amorous chains
And faster bound to Aaron’s charming eyes
Than is Prometheus tied to Caucasus .
Away with slavish weeds and servile thoughts !
I will be bright , and shine in pearl and gold
To wait upon this new-made emperess .
To wait , said I ? To wanton with this queen ,
This goddess , this Semiramis , this nymph ,
This siren that will charm Rome’s Saturnine
[51] ACT 2. SC. 1 And see his shipwrack and his commonweal’s .
Holla ! What storm is this ?
And manners , to intrude where I am graced ,
And may , for aught thou knowest , affected be .
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 .
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 .
Full well shalt thou perceive how much I dare .
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 ,
[53] ACT 2. SC. 1 Nor would your noble mother for much more
Be so dishonored in the court of Rome .
For shame , put up .
My rapier in his bosom , and withal
Thrust those reproachful speeches down his throat
That he hath breathed in my dishonor here .
Foul-spoken coward , that thund’rest with thy tongue
And with thy weapon nothing dar’st perform .
Now by the gods that warlike Goths adore ,
This petty brabble will undo us all .
Why , lords , and think you not how dangerous
It is to jet upon a prince’s right ?
What , is Lavinia then become so loose
Or Bassianus so degenerate
That for her love such quarrels may be broached
Without controlment , justice , or revenge ?
Young lords , beware ! And should the Empress know
This discord’s ground , the music would not please .
I love Lavinia more than all the world .
Lavinia is thine elder brother’s hope .
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 .
Would I propose to achieve her whom I love .
[55]ACT 2. SC. 1
She is a woman , therefore may be wooed ;
She is a woman , therefore may be won ;
She is Lavinia , therefore must be loved .
What , man , more water glideth by the mill
Than wots the miller of , and easy it is
Of a cut loaf to steal a shive , we know .
Though Bassianus be the Emperor’s brother ,
Better than he have worn Vulcan’s badge .
With words , fair looks , and liberality ?
What , hast not thou full often struck a doe
And borne her cleanly by the keeper’s nose ?
Would serve your turns .
Then should not we be tired with this ado .
Why , hark you , hark you ! And are you such fools
To square for this ? Would it offend you then
That both should speed ?
’Tis policy and stratagem must do
That you affect , and so must you resolve
[57] ACT 2. SC. 1 That what you cannot as you would achieve ,
You must perforce accomplish as you may .
Take this of me : Lucrece was not more chaste
Than this Lavinia , Bassianus’ love .
A speedier course than ling’ring languishment
Must we pursue , and I have found the path .
My lords , a solemn hunting is in hand ;
There will the lovely Roman ladies troop .
The forest walks are wide and spacious ,
And many unfrequented plots there are ,
Fitted by kind for rape and villainy .
Single you thither then this dainty doe ,
And strike her home by force , if not by words .
This way , or not at all , stand you in hope .
Come , come , our empress , with her sacred wit
To villainy and vengeance consecrate ,
Will we acquaint withal what we intend ,
And she shall file our engines with advice
That will not suffer you to square yourselves ,
But to your wishes’ height advance you both .
The Emperor’s court is like the house of Fame ,
The palace full of tongues , of eyes , and ears ;
The woods are ruthless , dreadful , deaf , and dull .
There speak and strike , brave boys , and take your
turns .
There serve your lust , shadowed from heaven’s eye ,
And revel in Lavinia’s treasury .
To cool this heat , a charm to calm these fits ,
Per Stygia , per manes vehor .
[59]ACT 2. SC. 2
Scene 2
Marcus , making a noise with hounds and horns .
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 .
enter Saturninus , Tamora , Bassianus , Lavinia , Chiron ,
Demetrius , and their Attendants .
Madam , to you as many , and as good . —
I promisèd your Grace a hunter’s peal .
Somewhat too early for new-married ladies .
I have been broad awake two hours and more .
And to our sport .
you see
Our Roman hunting .
[61] ACT 2. SC. 3 Will rouse the proudest panther in the chase
And climb the highest promontory top .
Makes way and runs like swallows o’er the plain .
But hope to pluck a dainty doe to ground .
Scene 3
To bury so much gold under a tree
And never after to inherit it .
Let him that thinks of me so abjectly
Know that this gold must coin a stratagem
Which , cunningly effected , will beget
A very excellent piece of villainy .
And so repose , sweet gold , for their unrest
That have their alms out of the Empress’ chest .
When everything doth make a gleeful boast ?
The birds chant melody on every bush ,
The snakes lies rollèd in the cheerful sun ,
The green leaves quiver with the cooling wind
And make a checkered shadow on the ground .
Under their sweet shade , Aaron , let us sit ,
And whilst the babbling echo mocks the hounds ,
[63] ACT 2. SC. 3 Replying shrilly to the well-tuned horns ,
As if a double hunt were heard at once ,
Let us sit down and mark their yellowing noise .
And after conflict such as was supposed
The wand’ring prince and Dido once enjoyed
When with a happy storm they were surprised ,
And curtained with a counsel-keeping cave ,
We may , each wreathèd 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 .
Saturn is dominator over mine .
What signifies my deadly standing eye ,
My silence , and my cloudy melancholy ,
My fleece of woolly hair that now uncurls
Even as an adder when she doth unroll
To do some fatal execution ?
No , madam , these are no venereal signs .
Vengeance is in my heart , death in my hand ,
Blood and revenge are hammering in my head .
Hark , Tamora , the empress of my soul ,
Which never hopes more heaven than rests in thee ,
This is the day of doom for Bassianus .
His Philomel must lose her tongue today ,
Thy sons make pillage of her chastity
And wash their hands in Bassianus’ blood .
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 .
[65]ACT 2. SC. 3
Be cross with him , and I’ll go fetch thy sons
To back thy quarrels , whatsoe’er they be .
Unfurnished of her well-beseeming troop ?
Or is it Dian , habited like her ,
Who hath abandonèd her holy groves
To see the general hunting in this forest ?
Had I the power that some say Dian had ,
Thy temples should be planted presently
With horns , as was Acteon’s , and the hounds
Should drive upon thy new-transformèd limbs ,
Unmannerly intruder as thou art .
’Tis thought you have a goodly gift in horning ,
And to be doubted that your Moor and you
Are singled forth to try experiments .
Jove shield your husband from his hounds today !
’Tis pity they should take him for a stag .
Doth make your honor of his body’s hue ,
Spotted , detested , and abominable .
Why are you sequestered from all your train ,
Dismounted from your snow-white goodly steed ,
And wandered hither to an obscure plot ,
[67] ACT 2. SC. 3 Accompanied but with a barbarous Moor ,
If foul desire had not conducted you ?
Great reason that my noble lord be rated
For sauciness . — I pray you , let us hence ,
And let her joy her raven-colored love .
This valley fits the purpose passing well .
Good king to be so mightily abused !
Why doth your Highness look so pale and wan ?
These two have ticed me hither to this place ,
A barren , detested vale you see it is ;
The trees , though summer , yet forlorn and lean ,
Overcome with moss and baleful mistletoe .
Here never shines the sun , here nothing breeds ,
Unless the nightly owl or fatal raven .
And when they showed me this abhorrèd 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 confusèd cries
As any mortal body hearing it
Should straight fall mad , or else die suddenly .
No sooner had they told this hellish tale
[69] ACT 2. SC. 3 But straight they told me they would bind me here
Unto the body of a dismal yew
And leave me to this miserable death .
And then they called me foul adulteress ,
Lascivious Goth , and all the bitterest terms
That ever ear did hear to such effect .
And had you not by wondrous fortune come ,
This vengeance on me had they executed .
Revenge it as you love your mother’s life ,
Or be you not henceforth called my children .
For no name fits thy nature but thy own !
Your mother’s hand shall right your mother’s wrong .
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 ?
Drag hence her husband to some secret hole ,
And make his dead trunk pillow to our lust .
Let not this wasp outlive , us both to sting .
[71] ACT 2. SC. 3 Come , mistress , now perforce we will enjoy
That nice-preservèd honesty of yours .
To see her tears , but be your heart to them
As unrelenting flint to drops of rain .
O , do not learn her wrath ; she taught it thee .
The milk thou suck’st from her did turn to marble .
Even at thy teat thou hadst thy tyranny .
Yet every mother breeds not sons alike .
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 .
That gave thee life when well he might have slain thee ,
Be not obdurate ; open thy deaf ears .
[73]ACT 2. SC. 3
Even for his sake am I pitiless . —
Remember , boys , I poured forth tears in vain
To save your brother from the sacrifice ,
But fierce Andronicus would not relent .
Therefore away with her , and use her as you will ;
The worse to her , the better loved of me .
And with thine own hands kill me in this place !
For ’tis not life that I have begged so long ;
Poor I was slain when Bassianus died .
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 .
No , let them satisfy their lust on thee .
The blot and enemy to our general name ,
Confusion fall —
husband .
This is the hole where Aaron bid us hide him .
[75]ACT 2. SC. 3
Ne’er let my heart know merry cheer indeed
Till all the Andronici be made away .
Now will I hence to seek my lovely Moor ,
And let my spleenful sons this trull deflower .
Quintus and Martius .
Straight will I bring you to the loathsome pit
Where I espied the panther fast asleep .
Well could I leave our sport to sleep awhile .
Whose mouth is covered with rude-growing briers
Upon whose leaves are drops of new-shed blood
As fresh as morning dew distilled on flowers ?
A very fatal place it seems to me .
Speak , brother ! Hast thou hurt thee with the fall ?
That ever eye with sight made heart lament !
That he thereby may have a likely guess
How these were they that made away his brother .
[77]ACT 2. SC. 3
From this unhallowed and bloodstainèd hole ?
A chilling sweat o’erruns my trembling joints .
My heart suspects more than mine eye can see .
Aaron and thou look down into this den
And see a fearful sight of blood and death .
Will not permit mine eyes once to behold
The thing whereat it trembles by surmise .
O , tell me who it is , for ne’er till now
Was I a child to fear I know not what .
All on a heap , like to a slaughtered lamb ,
In this detested , dark , blood-drinking pit .
A precious ring that lightens all this hole ,
Which like a taper in some monument
Doth shine upon the dead man’s earthy cheeks
And shows the ragged entrails of this pit .
So pale did shine the moon on Pyramus
When he by night lay bathed in maiden blood .
O , brother , help me with thy fainting hand —
If fear hath made thee faint as me it hath —
Out of this fell devouring receptacle ,
As hateful as Cocytus’ misty mouth .
[79]ACT 2. SC. 3
Or , wanting strength to do thee so much good ,
I may be plucked into the swallowing womb
Of this deep pit , poor Bassianus’ grave .
I have no strength to pluck thee to the brink .
Till thou art here aloft or I below .
Thou canst not come to me . I come to thee .
and Aaron the Moor .
And what he is that now is leapt into it . —
Say , who art thou that lately didst descend
Into this gaping hollow of the earth ?
Brought hither in a most unlucky hour
To find thy brother Bassianus dead .
He and his lady both are at the lodge
Upon the north side of this pleasant chase .
’Tis not an hour since I left them there .
But , out alas , here have we found him dead .
[81]ACT 2. SC. 3
Poor Bassianus here lies murderèd .
The complot of this timeless tragedy ,
And wonder greatly that man’s face can fold
In pleasing smiles such murderous tyranny .
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 .
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 .
[83]ACT 2. SC. 3
How easily murder is discoverèd .
the body of Bassianus from the pit .
I beg this boon with tears not lightly shed ,
That this fell fault of my accursèd sons —
Accursèd if the faults be proved in them —
Who found this letter ? Tamora , was it you ?
For by my father’s reverend tomb I vow
They shall be ready at your Highness’ will
To answer their suspicion with their lives .
Some bring the murdered body , some the murderers .
Let them not speak a word . The guilt is plain .
For , by my soul , were there worse end than death ,
That end upon them should be executed .
Fear not thy sons ; they shall do well enough .
Quintus and bearing the body of Bassianus .
[85]ACT 2. SC. 4
Scene 4
with Lavinia , her hands cut off , and her tongue cut out ,
and ravished .
Who ’twas that cut thy tongue and ravished thee .
An if thy stumps will let thee play the scribe .
And so let’s leave her to her silent walks .
Cousin , a word . Where is your husband ?
If I do dream , would all my wealth would wake me .
If I do wake , some planet strike me down
That I may slumber an eternal sleep .
Speak , gentle niece . What stern ungentle hands
Hath lopped and hewed and made thy body bare
Of her two branches , those sweet ornaments
Whose circling shadows kings have sought to sleep in ,
And might not gain so great a happiness
As half thy love ? Why dost not speak to me ?
[87] ACT 2. SC. 4 Alas , a crimson river of warm blood ,
Like to a bubbling fountain stirred with wind ,
Doth rise and fall between thy rosèd 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 concealèd , like an oven stopped ,
Doth burn the heart to cinders where it is .
Fair Philomela , why she but lost her tongue ,
And in a tedious sampler sewed her mind ;
But , lovely niece , that mean is cut from thee .
A craftier Tereus , cousin , hast thou met ,
And he hath cut those pretty fingers off
That could have better sewed than Philomel .
O , had the monster seen those lily hands
Tremble like aspen leaves upon a lute
And make the silken strings delight to kiss them ,
He would not then have touched them for his life .
Or had he heard the heavenly harmony
Which that sweet tongue hath made ,
He would have dropped his knife and fell asleep ,
As Cerberus at the Thracian poet’s feet .
Come , let us go and make thy father blind ,
For such a sight will blind a father’s eye .
One hour’s storm will drown the fragrant meads ;
What will whole months of tears thy father’s eyes ?
Do not draw back , for we will mourn with thee .
O , could our mourning ease thy misery !
[91]
ACT 3
Scene 1
( Quintus and Martius ) bound , passing on the stage to
the place of execution , and Titus going before , pleading .
For pity of mine age , whose youth was spent
In dangerous wars whilst you securely slept ;
For all my blood in Rome’s great quarrel shed ,
For all the frosty nights that I have watched ,
And for these bitter tears which now you see ,
Filling the agèd wrinkles in my cheeks ,
Be pitiful to my condemnèd sons ,
Whose souls is not corrupted as ’tis thought .
For two-and-twenty sons I never wept
Because they died in honor’s lofty bed .
For these , tribunes , in the dust I write
My heart’s deep languor and my soul’s sad tears .
Let my tears stanch the earth’s dry appetite .
My sons’ sweet blood will make it shame and blush .
O Earth , I will befriend thee more with rain
That shall distil from these two ancient ruins
Than youthful April shall with all his showers .
[93] ACT 3. SC. 1 In summer’s drought I’ll drop upon thee still ;
In winter with warm tears I’ll melt the snow
And keep eternal springtime on thy face ,
So thou refuse to drink my dear sons’ blood .
O reverend tribunes , O gentle agèd men ,
Unbind my sons , reverse the doom of death ,
And let me say , that never wept before ,
My tears are now prevailing orators .
The Tribunes hear you not ; no man is by ,
And you recount your sorrows to a stone .
Grave tribunes , once more I entreat of you —
They would not mark me ; if they did mark ,
They would not pity me . Yet plead I must ,
And bootless unto them .
Therefore I tell my sorrows to the stones ,
Who , though they cannot answer my distress ,
Yet in some sort they are better than the Tribunes ,
For that they will not intercept my tale .
When I do weep , they humbly at my feet
Receive my tears and seem to weep with me ,
And were they but attirèd in grave weeds ,
Rome could afford no tribunes like to these .
A stone is soft as wax , tribunes more hard than
stones ;
A stone is silent and offendeth not ,
And tribunes with their tongues doom men to death .
But wherefore stand’st thou with thy weapon drawn ?
[95]ACT 3. SC. 1
For which attempt the Judges have pronounced
My everlasting doom of banishment .
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 banishèd .
But who comes with our brother Marcus here ?
Or , if not so , thy noble heart to break .
I bring consuming sorrow to thine age .
Speak , Lavinia . What accursèd hand
Hath made thee handless in thy father’s sight ?
What fool hath added water to the sea
Or brought a faggot to bright-burning Troy ?
My grief was at the height before thou cam’st ,
And now like Nilus it disdaineth bounds . —
Give me a sword . I’ll chop off my hands too ,
For they have fought for Rome and all in vain ;
And they have nursed this woe in feeding life ;
[97] ACT 3. SC. 1 In bootless prayer have they been held up ,
And they have served me to effectless use .
Now all the service I require of them
Is that the one will help to cut the other . —
’Tis well , Lavinia , that thou hast no hands ,
For hands to do Rome service is but vain .
That blabbed them with such pleasing eloquence ,
Is torn from forth that pretty hollow cage
Where , like a sweet melodious bird , it sung
Sweet varied notes , enchanting every ear .
Seeking to hide herself as doth the deer
That hath received some unrecuring wound .
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 ?
[99] ACT 3. SC. 1 Thou hast no hands to wipe away thy tears ,
Nor tongue to tell me who hath martyred thee .
Thy husband he is dead , and for his death
Thy brothers are condemned , and dead by this . —
Look , Marcus ! — Ah , son Lucius , look on her !
When I did name her brothers , then fresh tears
Stood on her cheeks as doth the honeydew
Upon a gathered lily almost withered .
Perchance because she knows them innocent .
Because the law hath ta’en revenge on them . —
No , no , they would not do so foul a deed .
Witness the sorrow that their sister makes . —
Gentle Lavinia , let me kiss thy lips ,
Or make some sign how I may do thee ease .
Shall thy good uncle and thy brother Lucius
And thou and I sit round about some fountain ,
Looking all downwards to behold our cheeks ,
How they are stained like meadows yet not dry
With miry slime left on them by a flood ?
And in the fountain shall we gaze so long
Till the fresh taste be taken from that clearness
And made a brine pit with our bitter tears ?
Or shall we cut away our hands like thine ?
Or shall we bite our tongues and in dumb shows
Pass the remainder of our hateful days ?
What shall we do ? Let us that have our tongues
Plot some device of further misery
To make us wondered at in time to come .
See how my wretched sister sobs and weeps .
[101]ACT 3. SC. 1
Thy napkin cannot drink a tear of mine ,
For thou , poor man , hast drowned it with thine own .
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 .
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 .
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 ?
That hath thrown down so many enemies ,
Shall not be sent . My hand will serve the turn .
[103] ACT 3. SC. 1 My youth can better spare my blood than you ,
And therefore mine shall save my brothers’ lives .
And reared aloft the bloody battleax ,
Writing destruction on the enemy’s castle ?
O , none of both but are of high desert .
My hand hath been but idle ; let it serve
To ransom my two nephews from their death .
Then have I kept it to a worthy end .
For fear they die before their pardon come .
Are meet for plucking up , and therefore mine .
Let me redeem my brothers both from death .
Now let me show a brother’s love to thee .
Lend me thy hand , and I will give thee mine .
And never whilst I live deceive men so .
[105] ACT 3. SC. 1 But I’ll deceive you in another sort ,
And that you’ll say ere half an hour pass .
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 .
Look by and by to have thy sons with thee .
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 .
And bow this feeble ruin to the earth .
If any power pities wretched tears ,
To that I call . ( Lavinia kneels . ) What , wouldst thou
kneel with me ?
Do , then , dear heart , for heaven shall hear our
prayers ,
Or with our sighs we’ll breathe the welkin dim
And stain the sun with fog , as sometime clouds
When they do hug him in their melting bosoms .
And do not break into these deep extremes .
[107]ACT 3. SC. 1
Then be my passions bottomless with them .
Then into limits could I bind my woes .
When heaven doth weep , doth not the Earth o’erflow ?
If the winds rage , doth not the sea wax mad ,
Threat’ning the welkin with his big-swoll’n face ?
And wilt thou have a reason for this coil ?
I am the sea . Hark how her sighs doth flow !
She is the weeping welkin , I the Earth .
Then must my sea be movèd with her sighs ;
Then must my Earth with her continual tears
Become a deluge , overflowed and drowned ,
Forwhy my bowels cannot hide her woes
But like a drunkard must I vomit them .
Then give me leave , for losers will have leave
To ease their stomachs with their bitter tongues .
For that good hand thou sent’st the Emperor .
Here are the heads of thy two noble sons ,
And here’s thy hand in scorn to thee sent back .
Thy grief their sports , thy resolution mocked ,
That woe is me to think upon thy woes
More than remembrance of my father’s death .
And be my heart an everburning hell !
[109] ACT 3. SC. 1 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 .
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 .
As frozen water to a starvèd snake .
Thou dost not slumber . See thy two sons’ heads ,
Thy warlike hand , thy mangled daughter here ,
Thy other banished son with this dear sight
Struck pale and bloodless ; and thy brother , I ,
Even like a stony image cold and numb .
Ah , now no more will I control thy griefs .
Rent off thy silver hair , thy other hand ,
Gnawing with thy teeth , and be this dismal sight
The closing up of our most wretched eyes .
Now is a time to storm . Why art thou still ?
Besides , this sorrow is an enemy
And would usurp upon my wat’ry eyes
And make them blind with tributary tears .
[111] ACT 3. SC. 1 Then which way shall I find Revenge’s cave ?
For these two heads do seem to speak to me
And threat me I shall never come to bliss
Till all these mischiefs be returned again
Even in their throats that hath committed them .
Come , let me see what task I have to do .
You heavy people , circle me about
That I may turn me to each one of you
And swear unto my soul to right your wrongs .
The vow is made . Come , brother , take a head ,
And in this hand the other will I bear . —
And , Lavinia , thou shalt be employed in these arms .
Bear thou my hand , sweet wench , between thy
teeth . —
As for thee , boy , go get thee from my sight .
Thou art an exile , and thou must not stay .
Hie to the Goths and raise an army there .
And if you love me , as I think you do ,
Let’s kiss and part , for we have much to do .
The woefull’st man that ever lived in Rome .
Farewell , proud Rome , till Lucius come again .
He loves his pledges dearer than his life .
Farewell , Lavinia , my noble sister .
O , would thou wert as thou tofore hast been !
But now nor Lucius nor Lavinia lives
But in oblivion and hateful griefs .
If Lucius live he will requite your wrongs
And make proud Saturnine and his empress
Beg at the gates like Tarquin and his queen .
Now will I to the Goths and raise a power
To be revenged on Rome and Saturnine .
[113]ACT 3. SC. 2
Scene 2
and the boy Young Lucius , with Servants .
Than will preserve just so much strength in us
As will revenge these bitter woes of ours .
Marcus , unknit that sorrow-wreathen knot .
Thy niece and I , poor creatures , want our hands
And cannot passionate our tenfold grief
With folded arms . This poor right hand of mine
Is left to tyrannize upon my breast ,
Who , when my heart , all mad with misery ,
Beats in this hollow prison of my flesh ,
Then thus I thump it down . —
Thou map of woe , that thus dost talk in signs ,
When thy poor heart beats with outrageous beating ,
Thou canst not strike it thus to make it still .
Wound it with sighing , girl , kill it with groans ;
Or get some little knife between thy teeth
And just against thy heart make thou a hole ,
That all the tears that thy poor eyes let fall
May run into that sink and , soaking in ,
Drown the lamenting fool in sea-salt tears .
Such violent hands upon her tender life .
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 ,
[115] ACT 3. SC. 2 Lest we remember still that we have none . —
Fie , fie , how franticly I square my talk ,
As if we should forget we had no hands
If Marcus did not name the word of hands !
Come , let’s fall to , and , gentle girl , eat this .
Here is no drink ! — Hark , Marcus , what she says .
I can interpret all her martyred signs .
She says she drinks no other drink but tears
Brewed with her sorrow , mashed upon her cheeks . —
Speechless complainer , I will learn thy thought .
In thy dumb action will I be as perfect
As begging hermits in their holy prayers .
Thou shalt not sigh , nor hold thy stumps to heaven ,
Nor wink , nor nod , nor kneel , nor make a sign ,
But I of these will wrest an alphabet
And by still practice learn to know thy meaning .
Make my aunt merry with some pleasing tale .
Doth weep to see his grandsire’s heaviness .
And tears will quickly melt thy life away .
What dost thou strike at , Marcus , with thy knife ?
Mine eyes are cloyed with view of tyranny ;
A deed of death done on the innocent
Becomes not Titus’ brother . Get thee gone .
I see thou art not for my company .
[117]ACT 3. SC. 2
How would he hang his slender gilded wings
And buzz lamenting doings in the air !
Poor harmless fly ,
That , with his pretty buzzing melody ,
Came here to make us merry ! And thou hast killed
him .
Like to the Empress’ Moor . Therefore I killed him .
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 .
He takes false shadows for true substances .
I’ll to thy closet and go read with thee
Sad stories chancèd in the times of old . —
Come , boy , and go with me . Thy sight is young ,
And thou shalt read when mine begin to dazzle .
[121]
ACT 4
Scene 1
the boy flies from her with his books under his arm .
Enter Titus and Marcus .
Follows me everywhere , I know not why . —
Good uncle Marcus , see how swift she comes ! —
Alas , sweet aunt , I know not what you 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 .
[123]ACT 4. SC. 1
Unless some fit or frenzy do possess her ;
For I have heard my grandsire say full oft ,
Extremity of griefs would make men mad ,
And I have read that Hecuba of Troy
Ran mad for sorrow . That made me to fear ,
Although , my lord , I know my noble aunt
Loves me as dear as e’er my mother did ,
And would not but in fury fright my youth ,
Which made me down to throw my books and fly ,
Causeless , perhaps . — But pardon me , sweet aunt .
And , madam , if my uncle Marcus go ,
I will most willingly attend your Ladyship .
Some book there is that she desires to see . —
Which is it , girl , of these ? — Open them , boy . —
skilled .
Come and take choice of all my library ,
And so beguile thy sorrow till the heavens
Reveal the damned contriver of this deed . —
Why lifts she up her arms in sequence thus ?
Confederate in the fact . Ay , more there was ,
Or else to heaven she heaves them for revenge .
My mother gave it me .
[125]ACT 4. SC. 1
Perhaps , she culled it from among the rest .
Help her ! What would she find ? — Lavinia , shall I read ?
This is the tragic tale of Philomel ,
And treats of Tereus’ treason and his rape .
And rape , I fear , was root of thy annoy .
Ravished and wronged as Philomela was ,
Forced in the ruthless , vast , and gloomy woods ?
See , see ! Ay , such a place there is where we did hunt —
O , had we never , never hunted there ! —
Patterned by that the poet here describes ,
By nature made for murders and for rapes .
Unless the gods delight in tragedies ?
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 ?
Apollo , Pallas , Jove , or Mercury
Inspire me , that I may this treason find . —
My lord , look here . — Look here , Lavinia .
with feet and mouth .
This sandy plot is plain ; guide , if thou canst ,
This after me . I have writ my name
[127] ACT 4. SC. 1 Without the help of any hand at all .
Cursed be that heart that forced us to this shift !
Write thou , good niece , and here display at last
What God will have discovered for revenge .
Heaven guide thy pen to print thy sorrows plain ,
That we may know the traitors and the truth .
with her stumps and writes .
O , do you read , my lord , what she hath writ ?
Performers of this heinous , bloody deed ?
Tam lentus audis scelera , tam lentus vides ?
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 woeful fere
And father of that chaste dishonored dame ,
Lord Junius Brutus swore for Lucrece’ rape —
That we will prosecute by good advice
Mortal revenge upon these traitorous Goths ,
And see their blood or die with this reproach .
But if you hunt these bearwhelps , then beware ;
The dam will wake an if she wind you once .
She’s with the lion deeply still in league ,
[129] ACT 4. SC. 1 And lulls him whilst she playeth on her back ;
And when he sleeps will she do what she list .
You are a young huntsman , Marcus ; let alone .
And come , I will go get a leaf of brass ,
And with a gad of steel will write these words ,
And lay it by . The angry northern wind
Will blow these sands like Sibyl’s leaves abroad ,
And where’s our lesson then ? — Boy , what say you ?
Their mother’s bedchamber should not be safe
For these base bondmen to the yoke of Rome .
For his ungrateful country done the like .
Lucius , I’ll fit thee , and withal my boy
Shall carry from me to the Empress’ sons
Presents that I intend to send them both .
Come , come . Thou ’lt do my message , wilt thou not ?
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 .
And not relent , or not compassion him ?
Marcus , attend him in his ecstasy ,
That hath more scars of sorrow in his heart
[131] ACT 4. SC. 2 Than foemen’s marks upon his battered shield ,
But yet so just that he will not revenge .
Revenge the heavens for old Andronicus !
Scene 2
the other door young Lucius and another , with a bundle
of weapons and verses writ upon them .
He hath some message to deliver us .
I greet your Honors from Andronicus —
For villains marked with rape . — May it please you ,
My grandsire , well advised , hath sent by me
The goodliest weapons of his armory
To gratify your honorable youth ,
The hope of Rome ; for so he bid me say ,
And so I do , and with his gifts present
Your Lordships , that , whenever you have need ,
You may be armèd and appointed well ,
And so I leave you both —
[133] ACT 4. SC. 2 Let’s see :
Non eget Mauri iaculis , nec arcu .’
I read it in the grammar long ago .
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 advancèd to this height ?
It did me good before the palace gate
To brave the tribune in his brother’s hearing .
Basely insinuate and send us gifts .
Did you not use his daughter very friendly ?
At such a bay , by turn to serve our lust .
[135]ACT 4. SC. 2
For our belovèd mother in her pains .
O , tell me , did you see Aaron the Moor ?
Here Aaron is . And what with Aaron now ?
Now help , or woe betide thee evermore .
What dost thou wrap and fumble in thy arms ?
Our empress’ shame and stately Rome’s disgrace .
She is delivered , lords , she is delivered .
[137]ACT 4. SC. 2
Here is the babe , as loathsome as a toad
Amongst the fair-faced breeders of our clime .
The Empress sends it thee , thy stamp , thy seal ,
And bids thee christen it with thy dagger’s point .
blossom , sure .
Woe to her chance , and damned her loathèd choice !
Accursed the offspring of so foul a fiend !
Do execution on my flesh and blood .
Nurse , give it me . My sword shall soon dispatch it .
Stay , murderous villains , will you kill your brother ?
Now , by the burning tapers of the sky
That shone so brightly when this boy was got ,
He dies upon my scimitar’s sharp point
That touches this my firstborn son and heir .
I tell you , younglings , not Enceladus
[139] ACT 4. SC. 2 With all his threat’ning band of Typhon’s brood ,
Nor great Alcides , nor the god of war
Shall seize this prey out of his father’s hands .
What , what , you sanguine , shallow-hearted boys ,
You white-limed walls , you alehouse painted signs !
Coal-black is better than another hue
In that it scorns to bear another hue ;
For all the water in the ocean
Can never turn the swan’s black legs to white ,
Although she lave them hourly in the flood .
Tell the Empress from me , I am of age
To keep mine own , excuse it how she can .
The vigor and the picture of my youth .
This before all the world do I prefer ;
This maugre all the world will I keep safe ,
Or some of you shall smoke for it in Rome .
Fie , treacherous hue , that will betray with blushing
The close enacts and counsels of thy heart .
Here’s a young lad framed of another leer .
Look how the black slave smiles upon the father ,
As who should say ‘Old lad , I am thine own .’
[141] ACT 4. SC. 2 He is your brother , lords , sensibly fed
Of that self blood that first gave life to you ,
And from that womb where you imprisoned were
He is enfranchisèd and come to light .
Nay , he is your brother by the surer side ,
Although my seal be stampèd in his face .
And we will all subscribe to thy advice .
Save thou the child , so we may all be safe .
My son and I will have the wind of you .
Keep there . Now talk at pleasure of your safety .
I am a lamb ; but if you brave the Moor ,
The chafèd boar , the mountain lioness ,
The ocean swells not so as Aaron storms .
child ?
And no one else but the delivered Empress .
Two may keep counsel when the third’s away .
Go to the Empress ; tell her this I said .
‘Wheak , wheak’ ! So cries a pig preparèd to the spit .
[143]ACT 4. SC. 2
Shall she live to betray this guilt of ours ,
A long-tongued babbling gossip ? No , lords , no .
And now be it known to you my full intent :
Not far one Muliteus my countryman
His wife but yesternight was brought to bed .
His child is like to her , fair as you are .
Go pack with him , and give the mother gold ,
And tell them both the circumstance of all ,
And how by this their child shall be advanced
And be receivèd for the Emperor’s heir ,
And substituted in the place of mine ,
To calm this tempest whirling in the court ;
And let the Emperor dandle him for his own .
Hark you , lords , you see I have given her physic ,
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 .
With secrets .
Herself and hers are highly bound to thee .
carrying the Nurse’s body .
There to dispose this treasure in mine arms
And secretly to greet the Empress’ friends . —
Come on , you thick-lipped slave , I’ll bear you hence ,
[145] ACT 4. SC. 3 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 .
Scene 3
Lucius , and other gentlemen ( Caius and Sempronius )
with bows , and Titus bears the arrows with letters on
the ends of them .
Sir boy , let me see your archery .
Look you draw home enough and ’tis there straight . —
Terras Astraea reliquit .
Be you remembered , Marcus , she’s gone , she’s fled . —
Sirs , take you to your tools . You , cousins , shall
Go sound the ocean and cast your nets ;
Happily you may catch her in the sea ;
Yet there’s as little justice as at land .
No ; Publius and Sempronius , you must do it .
’Tis you must dig with mattock and with spade ,
And pierce the inmost center of the Earth .
Then , when you come to Pluto’s region ,
I pray you , deliver him this petition .
Tell him it is for justice and for aid ,
And that it comes from old Andronicus ,
Shaken with sorrows in ungrateful Rome .
Ah , Rome ! Well , well , I made thee miserable
What time I threw the people’s suffrages
On him that thus doth tyrannize o’er me .
[147] ACT 4. SC. 3 Go , get you gone , and pray be careful all ,
And leave you not a man-of-war unsearched .
This wicked emperor may have shipped her hence ,
And , kinsmen , then we may go pipe for justice .
To see thy noble uncle thus distract ?
By day and night t’ attend him carefully ,
And feed his humor kindly as we may ,
Till time beget some careful remedy .
But [...]
Join with the Goths , and with revengeful war
Take wreak on Rome for this ingratitude ,
And vengeance on the traitor Saturnine .
What , have you met with her ?
If you will have Revenge from hell , you shall .
Marry , for Justice , she is so employed ,
He thinks , with Jove in heaven , or somewhere else ,
So that perforce you must needs stay a time .
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 ;
[149] ACT 4. SC. 3 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 .
‘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 .
We will afflict the Emperor in his pride .
Lucius !
Good boy , in Virgo’s lap ! Give it Pallas .
Your letter is with Jupiter by this .
See , see , thou hast shot off one of Taurus’ horns !
The Bull , being galled , gave Aries such a knock
That down fell both the Ram’s horns in the court ,
And who should find them but the Empress’ villain ?
She laughed and told the Moor he should not choose
But give them to his master for a present .
[151] ACT 4. SC. 3
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 ?
he hath taken them down again , for the man must
not be hanged till the next week .
drank with him in all my life .
came there . God forbid I should be so bold to press
to heaven in my young days . Why , I am going with
my pigeons to the tribunal plebs , to take up a matter
of brawl betwixt my uncle and one of the Emperal’s
men .
serve for your oration ; and let him deliver the pigeons
to the Emperor from you .
with a grace ?
grace in all my life .
But give your pigeons to the Emperor .
By me thou shalt have justice at his hands .
Hold , hold ; meanwhile here’s money for thy
[153] ACT 4. SC. 4 charges . — Give me pen and ink . — Sirrah , can you
with a grace deliver up a supplication ?
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 .
Here , Marcus , fold it in the oration ,
For thou hast made it like an humble suppliant . —
And when thou hast given it to the Emperor ,
Knock at my door and tell me what he says .
Scene 4
and her two sons Chiron and Demetrius , with
Attendants . The Emperor brings the arrows in his
hand that Titus shot at him .
An emperor in Rome thus overborne ,
Troubled , confronted thus , and for the extent
Of equal justice , used in such contempt ?
[155] ACT 4. SC. 4 My lords , you know , as know the mightful gods ,
However these disturbers of our peace
Buzz in the people’s ears , there naught hath passed
But even with law against the willful sons
Of old Andronicus . And what an if
His sorrows have so overwhelmed his wits ?
Shall we be thus afflicted in his wreaks ,
His fits , his frenzy , and his bitterness ?
And now he writes to heaven for his redress !
See , here’s ‘to Jove ,’ and this ‘to Mercury ,’
This ‘to Apollo ,’ this to the god of war .
Sweet scrolls to fly about the streets of Rome !
What’s this but libeling against the Senate
And blazoning our unjustice everywhere ?
A goodly humor is it not , my lords ?
As who would say , in Rome no justice were .
But if I live , his feignèd ecstasies
Shall be no shelter to these outrages ,
But he and his shall know that justice lives
In Saturninus’ health , whom , if he sleep ,
He’ll so awake as he in fury shall
Cut off the proud’st conspirator that lives .
Lord of my life , commander of my thoughts ,
Calm thee , and bear the faults of Titus’ age ,
Th’ effects of sorrow for his valiant sons ,
Whose loss hath pierced him deep and scarred his
heart ,
And rather comfort his distressèd plight
Than prosecute the meanest or the best
For these contempts .
become
High-witted Tamora to gloze with all .
But , Titus , I have touched thee to the quick .
Thy lifeblood out , if Aaron now be wise ,
Then is all safe , the anchor in the port .
[157] ACT 4. SC. 4
How now , good fellow , wouldst thou speak with us ?
emperial .
give you good e’en . I have brought you a letter and
a couple of pigeons here .
brought up a neck to a fair end .
Shall I endure this monstrous villainy ?
I know from whence this same device proceeds .
May this be borne ? — as if his traitorous sons ,
That died by law for murder of our brother ,
Have by my means been butchered wrongfully !
Go , drag the villain hither by the hair .
Nor age nor honor shall shape privilege .
For this proud mock , I’ll be thy slaughterman ,
Sly , frantic wretch , that holp’st to make me great
In hope thyself should govern Rome and me .
The Goths have gathered head , and with a power
[159] ACT 4. SC. 4 Of high-resolvèd 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 .
These tidings nip me , and I hang the head
As flowers with frost or grass beat down with storms .
Ay , now begins our sorrows to approach .
’Tis he the common people love so much .
Myself hath often heard them say ,
When I have walkèd like a private man ,
That Lucius’ banishment was wrongfully ,
And they have wished that Lucius were their emperor .
And will revolt from me to succor him .
Is the sun dimmed that gnats do fly in it ?
The eagle suffers little birds to sing
And is not careful what they mean thereby ,
Knowing that with the shadow of his wings
He can at pleasure stint their melody .
Even so mayst thou the giddy men of Rome .
Then cheer thy spirit , for know , thou emperor ,
I will enchant the old Andronicus
With words more sweet and yet more dangerous
Than baits to fish or honey-stalks to sheep ,
Whenas the one is wounded with the bait ,
The other rotted with delicious feed .
[161]ACT 4. SC. 4
For I can smooth and fill his agèd ears
With golden promises , that were his heart
Almost impregnable , his old ears deaf ,
Yet should both ear and heart obey my tongue .
Say that the Emperor requests a parley
Of warlike Lucius , and appoint the meeting
Even at his father’s house , the old Andronicus .
And if he stand in hostage for his safety ,
Bid him demand what pledge will please him best .
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 .
[165]
ACT 5
Scene 1
Drums and Soldiers .
I have receivèd letters from great Rome
Which signifies what hate they bear their emperor
And how desirous of our sight they are .
Therefore , great lords , be as your titles witness ,
Imperious , and impatient of your wrongs ,
And wherein Rome hath done you any scathe ,
Let him make treble satisfaction .
Whose name was once our terror , now our comfort ,
Whose high exploits and honorable deeds
Ingrateful Rome requites with foul contempt ,
Be bold in us . We’ll follow where thou lead’st ,
Like stinging bees in hottest summer’s day
Led by their master to the flowered fields ,
And be avenged on cursèd Tamora .
But who comes here , led by a lusty Goth ?
[167]ACT 5. SC. 1
To gaze upon a ruinous monastery ,
And as I earnestly did fix mine eye
Upon the wasted building , suddenly
I heard a child cry underneath a wall .
I made unto the noise , when soon I heard
The crying babe controlled with this discourse :
‘Peace , tawny slave , half me and half thy dame !
Did not thy hue bewray whose brat thou art ,
Had nature lent thee but thy mother’s look ,
Villain , thou mightst have been an emperor .
But where the bull and cow are both milk white ,
They never do beget a coal-black calf .
Peace , villain , peace !’ — even thus he rates the babe —
‘For I must bear thee to a trusty Goth
Who , when he knows thou art the Empress’ babe ,
Will hold thee dearly for thy mother’s sake .’
With this , my weapon drawn , I rushed upon him ,
Surprised him suddenly , and brought him hither
To use as you think needful of the man .
That robbed Andronicus of his good hand ;
This is the pearl that pleased your empress’ eye ;
And here’s the base fruit of her burning lust . —
Say , wall-eyed slave , whither wouldst thou convey
This growing image of thy fiendlike face ?
Why dost not speak ? What , deaf ? Not a word ? —
A halter , soldiers ! Hang him on this tree ,
And by his side his fruit of bastardy .
[169]ACT 5. SC. 1
First hang the child , that he may see it sprawl ,
A sight to vex the father’s soul withal .
Get me a ladder .
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 !’
Thy child shall live , and I will see it nourished .
’Twill vex thy soul to hear what I shall speak ;
For I must talk of murders , rapes , and massacres ,
Acts of black night , abominable deeds ,
Complots of mischief , treason , villainies ,
Ruthful to hear , yet piteously performed .
And this shall all be buried in my death ,
Unless thou swear to me my child shall live .
That granted , how canst thou believe an oath ?
Yet , for I know thou art religious
And hast a thing within thee callèd conscience ,
With twenty popish tricks and ceremonies
[171] ACT 5. SC. 1 Which I have seen thee careful to observe ,
Therefore I urge thy oath ; for that I know
An idiot holds his bauble for a god
And keeps the oath which by that god he swears ,
To that I’ll urge him . Therefore thou shalt vow
By that same god , what god soe’er it be
That thou adorest and hast in reverence ,
To save my boy , to nourish and bring him up ,
Or else I will discover naught to thee .
To that which thou shalt hear of me anon .
’Twas her two sons that murdered Bassianus .
They cut thy sister’s tongue , and ravished her ,
And cut her hands , and trimmed her as thou sawest .
’twas
Trim sport for them which had the doing of it .
That codding spirit had they from their mother ,
As sure a card as ever won the set ;
That bloody mind I think they learned of me ,
As true a dog as ever fought at head .
Well , let my deeds be witness of my worth .
[173] ACT 5. SC. 1 I trained thy brethren to that guileful hole
Where the dead corpse of Bassianus lay .
I wrote the letter that thy father found ,
And hid the gold within that letter mentioned ,
Confederate with the Queen and her two sons .
And what not done that thou hast cause to rue ,
Wherein I had no stroke of mischief in it ?
I played the cheater for thy father’s hand ,
And , when I had it , drew myself apart
And almost broke my heart with extreme laughter .
I pried me through the crevice of a wall
When , for his hand , he had his two sons’ heads ,
Beheld his tears , and laughed so heartily
That both mine eyes were rainy like to his .
And when I told the Empress of this sport ,
She sounded almost at my pleasing tale ,
And for my tidings gave me twenty kisses .
Even now I curse the day — and yet , I think ,
Few come within the compass of my curse —
Wherein I did not some notorious ill ,
As kill a man , or else devise his death ;
Ravish a maid or plot the way to do it ;
Accuse some innocent and forswear myself ;
Set deadly enmity between two friends ;
Make poor men’s cattle break their necks ;
Set fire on barns and haystalks in the night ,
And bid the owners quench them with their tears .
Oft have I digged up dead men from their graves
And set them upright at their dear friends’ door ,
[175] ACT 5. SC. 1 Even when their sorrows almost was forgot ,
And on their skins , as on the bark of trees ,
Have with my knife carvèd in Roman letters
‘Let not your sorrow die , though I am dead .’
But I have done a thousand dreadful things
As willingly as one would kill a fly ,
And nothing grieves me heartily indeed
But that I cannot do ten thousand more .
So sweet a death as hanging presently .
To live and burn in everlasting fire ,
So I might have your company in hell
But to torment you with my bitter tongue .
Desires to be admitted to your presence .
Welcome , Aemilius . What’s the news from Rome ?
The Roman Emperor greets you all by me ;
And , for he understands you are in arms ,
He craves a parley at your father’s house ,
Willing you to demand your hostages ,
And they shall be immediately delivered .
[177] ACT 5. SC. 2 Unto my father and my uncle Marcus ,
And we will come . March away .
Scene 2
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 .
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 .
Wanting a hand to give it action ?
Thou hast the odds of me ; therefore , no more .
[179]ACT 5. SC. 2
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 ?
She is thy enemy , and I thy friend .
I am Revenge , sent from th’ infernal kingdom
To ease the gnawing vulture of thy mind
By working wreakful vengeance on thy foes .
Come down and welcome me to this world’s light .
Confer with me of murder and of death .
There’s not a hollow cave or lurking-place ,
No vast obscurity or misty vale
Where bloody murder or detested rape
Can couch for fear but I will find them out ,
And in their ears tell them my dreadful name ,
Revenge , which makes the foul offender quake .
To be a torment to mine enemies ?
Lo , by thy side , where Rape and Murder stands ,
Now give some surance that thou art Revenge :
Stab them , or tear them on thy chariot wheels ,
And then I’ll come and be thy wagoner ,
And whirl along with thee about the globe ,
Provide thee two proper palfreys , black as jet ,
To hale thy vengeful wagon swift away ,
[181] ACT 5. SC. 2 And find out murderers in their guilty caves .
And when thy car is loaden with their heads ,
I will dismount and by thy wagon wheel
Trot like a servile footman all day long ,
Even from Hyperion’s rising in the east
Until his very downfall in the sea .
And day by day I’ll do this heavy task ,
So thou destroy Rapine and Murder there .
’Cause they take vengeance of such kind of men .
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 .
Whate’er I forge to feed his brainsick humors ,
Do you uphold and maintain in your speeches ,
For now he firmly takes me for Revenge ;
And , being credulous in this mad thought ,
I’ll make him send for Lucius his son ;
And whilst I at a banquet hold him sure ,
I’ll find some cunning practice out of hand
To scatter and disperse the giddy Goths ,
Or , at the least , make them his enemies .
See , here he comes , and I must ply my theme .
[183]ACT 5. SC. 2
Welcome , dread Fury , to my woeful house . —
Rapine and Murder , you are welcome too .
How like the Empress and her sons you are !
Well are you fitted , had you but a Moor .
Could not all hell afford you such a devil ?
For well I wot the Empress never wags
But in her company there is a Moor ;
And , would you represent our queen aright ,
It were convenient you had such a devil .
But welcome as you are . What shall we do ?
And I am sent to be revenged on him .
And I will be revengèd on them all .
And when thou findst a man that’s like thyself ,
Good Murder , stab him ; he’s a murderer .
hap
To find another that is like to thee ,
Good Rapine , stab him ; he is a ravisher .
Emperor’s court
There is a queen attended by a Moor .
Well shalt thou know her by thine own proportion ,
[185] ACT 5. SC. 2 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 .
But would it please thee , good Andronicus ,
To send for Lucius , thy thrice-valiant son ,
Who leads towards Rome a band of warlike Goths ,
And bid him come and banquet at thy house ?
When he is here , even at thy solemn feast ,
I will bring in the Empress and her sons ,
The Emperor himself , and all thy foes ,
And at thy mercy shall they stoop and kneel ,
And on them shalt thou ease thy angry heart .
What says Andronicus to this device ?
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 agèd father’s life .
And take my ministers along with me .
Or else I’ll call my brother back again
And cleave to no revenge but Lucius .
[187]ACT 5. SC. 2
Whiles I go tell my lord the Emperor
How I have governed our determined jest ?
Yield to his humor , smooth and speak him fair ,
And tarry with him till I turn again .
And will o’erreach them in their own devices —
A pair of cursèd hellhounds and their dam !
To lay a complot to betray thy foes .
Publius , come hither ; Caius , and Valentine .
The one is Murder , and Rape is the other’s name ;
And therefore bind them , gentle Publius .
Caius and Valentine , lay hands on them .
[189] ACT 5. SC. 2 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 .
Stop close their mouths ; let them not speak a word .
Is he sure bound ? Look that you bind them fast .
with a basin .
Sirs , stop their mouths . Let them not speak to me ,
But let them hear what fearful words I utter . —
O villains , Chiron and Demetrius !
Here stands the spring whom you have stained with
mud ,
This goodly summer with your winter mixed .
You killed her husband , and for that vile fault
Two of her brothers were condemned to death ,
My hand cut off and made a merry jest ,
Both her sweet hands , her tongue , and that more dear
Than hands or tongue , her spotless chastity ,
Inhuman traitors , you constrained and forced .
What would you say if I should let you speak ?
Villains , for shame you could not beg for grace .
Hark , wretches , how I mean to martyr you .
This one hand yet is left to cut your throats ,
Whiles that Lavinia ’tween her stumps doth hold
The basin that receives your guilty blood .
You know your mother means to feast with me ,
And calls herself Revenge , and thinks me mad .
Hark , villains , I will grind your bones to dust ,
[191] ACT 5. SC. 3 And with your blood and it I’ll make a paste ,
And of the paste a coffin I will rear ,
And make two pasties of your shameful heads ,
And bid that strumpet , your unhallowed dam ,
Like to the earth swallow her own increase .
This is the feast that I have bid her to ,
And this the banquet she shall surfeit on ;
For worse than Philomel you used my daughter ,
And worse than Procne I will be revenged .
And now prepare your throats . — Lavinia , come ,
Receive the blood .
And when that they are dead ,
Let me go grind their bones to powder small ,
And with this hateful liquor temper it ,
And in that paste let their vile heads be baked .
Come , come , be everyone officious
To make this banquet , which I wish may prove
More stern and bloody than the Centaurs’ feast .
So . Now bring them in , for I’ll play the cook
And see them ready against their mother comes .
Scene 3
Guards , and an Attendant carrying the baby .
That I repair to Rome , I am content .
This ravenous tiger , this accursèd devil .
Let him receive no sust’nance . Fetter him
[193] ACT 5. SC. 3 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 .
And prompt me that my tongue may utter forth
The venomous malice of my swelling heart .
Sirs , help our uncle to convey him in .
The trumpets show the Emperor is at hand .
with Aemilius , Tribunes , Attendants , and others .
These quarrels must be quietly debated .
The feast is ready which the careful Titus
Hath ordained to an honorable end ,
For peace , for love , for league and good to Rome .
Please you therefore draw nigh and take your places .
dishes , with young Lucius and others , and Lavinia
with a veil over her face .
Welcome , you warlike Goths ; — welcome , Lucius ; —
[195] ACT 5. SC. 3 And welcome , all . Although the cheer be poor ,
’Twill fill your stomachs . Please you eat of it .
To entertain your Highness and your empress .
My lord the Emperor , resolve me this :
Was it well done of rash Virginius
To slay his daughter with his own right hand
Because she was enforced , stained , and deflowered ?
And by her presence still renew his sorrows .
A pattern , precedent , and lively warrant
For me , most wretched , to perform the like .
Die , die , Lavinia , and thy shame with thee ,
And with thy shame thy father’s sorrow die .
I am as woeful as Virginius was ,
And have a thousand times more cause than he
To do this outrage , and it now is done .
[197]ACT 5. SC. 3
feed ?
They ravished her and cut away her tongue ,
And they , ’twas they , that did her all this wrong .
Whereof their mother daintily hath fed ,
Eating the flesh that she herself hath bred .
’Tis true , ’tis true ! Witness my knife’s sharp point .
There’s meed for meed , death for a deadly deed .
others go aloft to the upper stage .
By uproars severed as a flight of fowl
Scattered by winds and high tempestuous gusts ,
O , let me teach you how to knit again
This scattered corn into one mutual sheaf ,
These broken limbs again into one body ,
Lest Rome herself be bane unto herself ,
And she whom mighty kingdoms curtsy to ,
[199] ACT 5. SC. 3 Like a forlorn and desperate castaway ,
Do shameful execution on herself .
But if my frosty signs and chaps of age ,
Grave witnesses of true experience ,
Cannot induce you to attend my words ,
Speak , Rome’s dear friend , as erst our ancestor ,
When with his solemn tongue he did discourse
To lovesick Dido’s sad-attending ear
The story of that baleful burning night
When subtle Greeks surprised King Priam’s Troy .
Tell us what Sinon hath bewitched our ears ,
Or who hath brought the fatal engine in
That gives our Troy , our Rome , the civil wound . —
My heart is not compact of flint nor steel ,
Nor can I utter all our bitter grief ,
But floods of tears will drown my oratory
And break my utterance even in the time
When it should move you to attend me most
And force you to commiseration .
Here’s Rome’s young captain . Let him tell the tale ,
While I stand by and weep to hear him speak .
That Chiron and the damned Demetrius
Were they that murderèd our emperor’s brother ,
And they it were that ravishèd our sister .
For their fell faults our brothers were beheaded ,
Our father’s tears despised , and basely cozened
Of that true hand that fought Rome’s quarrel out
And sent her enemies unto the grave ;
Lastly , myself unkindly banishèd ,
The gates shut on me , and turned weeping out
To beg relief among Rome’s enemies ,
Who drowned their enmity in my true tears
And oped their arms to embrace me as a friend .
[201] ACT 5. SC. 3 I am the turned-forth , be it known to you ,
That have preserved her welfare in my blood
And from her bosom took the enemy’s point ,
Sheathing the steel in my advent’rous body .
Alas , you know I am no vaunter , I ;
My scars can witness , dumb although they are ,
That my report is just and full of truth .
But soft , methinks I do digress too much ,
Citing my worthless praise . O , pardon me ,
For when no friends are by , men praise themselves .
Of this was Tamora deliverèd ,
The issue of an irreligious Moor ,
Chief architect and plotter of these woes .
The villain is alive in Titus’ house ,
And as he is to witness , this is true .
Now judge what cause had Titus to revenge
These wrongs unspeakable , past patience ,
Or more than any living man could bear .
Now have you heard the truth . What say you ,
Romans ?
Have we done aught amiss ? Show us wherein ,
And from the place where you behold us pleading ,
The poor remainder of Andronici
Will , hand in hand , all headlong hurl ourselves ,
And on the ragged stones beat forth our souls ,
And make a mutual closure of our house .
Speak , Romans , speak , and if you say we shall ,
Lo , hand in hand , Lucius and I will fall .
And bring our emperor gently in thy hand ,
Lucius our emperor , for well I know
The common voice do cry it shall be so .
[203]ACT 5. SC. 3
And hither hale that misbelieving Moor
To be adjudged some direful slaught’ring death
As punishment for his most wicked life .
come down from the upper stage .
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 ,
These sorrowful drops upon thy bloodstained face ,
The last true duties of thy noble son .
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 .
To melt in showers . Thy grandsire loved thee well .
Many a time he danced thee on his knee ,
Sung thee asleep , his loving breast thy pillow ;
Many a story hath he told to thee ,
And bid thee bear his pretty tales in mind
And talk of them when he was dead and gone .
[205]ACT 5. SC. 3
When they were living , warmed themselves on thine !
O , now , sweet boy , give them their latest kiss .
Bid him farewell ; commit him to the grave .
Do them that kindness , and take leave of them .
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 .
Give sentence on this execrable wretch
That hath been breeder of these dire events .
There let him stand and rave and cry for food .
If anyone relieves or pities him ,
For the offense he dies . This is our doom .
Some stay to see him fastened in the earth .
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 .
And give him burial in his fathers’ grave .
[207] ACT 5. SC. 3 My father and Lavinia shall forthwith
Be closèd in our household’s monument .
As for that ravenous tiger , Tamora ,
No funeral rite , nor man in mourning weed ;
No mournful bell shall ring her burial ;
But throw her forth to beasts and birds to prey .
Her life was beastly and devoid of pity ,
And being dead , let birds on her take pity .
Appendix A
- Lizenz
-
CC BY 4.0
Link zur Lizenz
- Zitationsvorschlag für diese Edition
- TextGrid Repository (2025). Shakespeare, William. Titus Andronicus. The Folger Digital Texts in TextGrid. https://hdl.handle.net/21.11113/0000-0016-849E-1