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FOR __ COMPLETE SHAKESPEARE **** +["Small Print" V.12.08.93] + +<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM +SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS +PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF CARNEGIE MELLON UNIVERSITY +WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE +DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS +PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED +COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY +SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>> + + + + + +1594 + +THE TRAGEDY OF TITUS ANDRONICUS + +by William Shakespeare + + + +Dramatis Personae + + SATURNINUS, son to the late Emperor of Rome, afterwards Emperor + BASSIANUS, brother to Saturninus + TITUS ANDRONICUS, a noble Roman + MARCUS ANDRONICUS, Tribune of the People, and brother to Titus + + Sons to Titus Andronicus: + LUCIUS + QUINTUS + MARTIUS + MUTIUS + + YOUNG LUCIUS, a boy, son to Lucius + PUBLIUS, son to Marcus Andronicus + + Kinsmen to Titus: + SEMPRONIUS + CAIUS + VALENTINE + + AEMILIUS, a noble Roman + + Sons to Tamora: + ALARBUS + DEMETRIUS + CHIRON + + AARON, a Moor, beloved by Tamora + A CAPTAIN + A MESSENGER + A CLOWN + + TAMORA, Queen of the Goths + LAVINIA, daughter to Titus Andronicus + A NURSE, and a black CHILD + + Romans and Goths, Senators, Tribunes, Officers, Soldiers, and + Attendants + + + + +<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM +SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS +PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF CARNEGIE MELLON UNIVERSITY +WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE +DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS +PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED +COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY +SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>> + + + + SCENE: + Rome and the neighbourhood + + +ACT 1. SCENE I. +Rome. Before the Capitol + +Flourish. Enter the TRIBUNES and SENATORS aloft; and then enter +below +SATURNINUS and his followers at one door, and BASSIANUS and his +followers +at the other, with drums and trumpets + + SATURNINUS. Noble patricians, patrons of my right, + Defend the justice of my cause with arms; + And, countrymen, my loving followers, + Plead my successive title with your swords. + I am his first born son that was the last + That wore the imperial diadem of Rome; + Then let my father's honours live in me, + Nor wrong mine age with this indignity. + BASSIANUS. Romans, friends, followers, favourers of my right, + If ever Bassianus, Caesar's son, + Were gracious in the eyes of royal Rome, + Keep then this passage to the Capitol; + And suffer not dishonour 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. + + Enter MARCUS ANDRONICUS aloft, with the crown + + MARCUS. Princes, that strive by factions and by friends + Ambitiously for rule and empery, + Know that the people of Rome, for whom we stand + A special party, have by common voice + In election for the Roman empery + Chosen Andronicus, surnamed Pius + For many good and great deserts to Rome. + A nobler man, a braver warrior, + Lives not this day within the city walls. + He by the Senate is accited home, + From weary wars against the barbarous Goths, + That with his sons, a terror to our foes, + Hath yok'd a nation strong, train'd up in arms. + Ten years are spent since first he undertook + This cause of Rome, and chastised with arms + Our enemies' pride; five times he hath return'd + Bleeding to Rome, bearing his valiant sons + In coffins from the field; and at this day + To the monument of that Andronici + Done sacrifice of expiation, + And slain the noblest prisoner of the Goths. + And now at last, laden with honour's spoils, + Returns the good Andronicus to Rome, + Renowned Titus, flourishing in arms. + Let us entreat, by honour of his name + Whom worthily you would have now succeed, + And in the Capitol and Senate's right, + Whom you pretend to honour and adore, + That you withdraw you and abate your strength, + Dismiss your followers, and, as suitors should, + Plead your deserts in peace and humbleness. + SATURNINUS. How fair the Tribune speaks to calm my thoughts. + BASSIANUS. Marcus Andronicus, so I do affy + In thy uprightness and integrity, + And so I love and honour 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 favour + Commit my cause in balance to be weigh'd. + Exeunt the soldiers of BASSIANUS + SATURNINUS. Friends, that have been thus forward in my right, + I thank you all and here dismiss you all, + And to the love and favour of my country + Commit myself, my person, and the cause. + Exeunt the soldiers of SATURNINUS + Rome, be as just and gracious unto me + As I am confident and kind to thee. + Open the gates and let me in. + BASSIANUS. Tribunes, and me, a poor competitor. + [Flourish. They go up into the Senate House] + + Enter a CAPTAIN + + CAPTAIN. Romans, make way. The good Andronicus, + Patron of virtue, Rome's best champion, + Successful in the battles that he fights, + With honour and with fortune is return'd + From where he circumscribed with his sword + And brought to yoke the enemies of Rome. + + Sound drums and trumpets, and then enter MARTIUS + and MUTIUS, two of TITUS' sons; and then two men + bearing a coffin covered with black; then LUCIUS + and QUINTUS, two other sons; then TITUS ANDRONICUS; + and then TAMORA the Queen of Goths, with her three + sons, ALARBUS, DEMETRIUS, and CHIRON, with AARON the + Moor, and others, as many as can be. Then set down + the coffin and TITUS speaks + + TITUS. Hail, Rome, victorious in thy mourning weeds! + Lo, as the bark that hath discharg'd her fraught + Returns with precious lading to the bay + From whence at first she weigh'd her anchorage, + Cometh Andronicus, bound with laurel boughs, + To re-salute his country with his tears, + Tears of true joy for his return to Rome. + Thou great defender of this Capitol, + Stand gracious to the rites that we intend! + Romans, of five and twenty valiant sons, + Half of the number that King Priam had, + Behold the poor remains, alive and dead! + These that survive let Rome reward with love; + These that I bring unto their latest home, + With burial amongst their ancestors. + Here Goths have given me leave to sheathe my sword. + Titus, unkind, and careless of thine own, + Why suffer'st thou thy sons, unburied yet, + To hover on the dreadful shore of Styx? + Make way to lay them by their brethren. + [They open the tomb] + There greet in silence, as the dead are wont, + And sleep in peace, slain in your country's wars. + O sacred receptacle of my joys, + Sweet cell of virtue and nobility, + How many sons hast thou of mine in store + That thou wilt never render to me more! + LUCIUS. Give us the proudest prisoner of the Goths, + That we may hew his limbs, and on a pile + Ad manes fratrum sacrifice his flesh + Before this earthy prison of their bones, + That so the shadows be not unappeas'd, + Nor we disturb'd with prodigies on earth. + TITUS. I give him you- the noblest that survives, + The eldest son of this distressed queen. + TAMORA. Stay, Roman brethen! Gracious conqueror, + Victorious Titus, rue the tears I shed, + A mother's tears in passion for her son; + And if thy sons were ever dear to thee, + O, think my son to be as dear to me! + Sufficeth not that we are brought to Rome + To beautify thy triumphs, and return + Captive to thee and to thy Roman yoke; + But must my sons be slaughtered in the streets + For valiant doings in their country's cause? + O, if to fight for king and commonweal + Were piety in thine, it is in these. + Andronicus, stain not thy tomb with blood. + Wilt thou draw near the nature of the gods? + Draw near them then in being merciful. + Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge. + Thrice-noble Titus, spare my first-born son. + TITUS. Patient yourself, madam, and pardon me. + These are their brethren, whom your Goths beheld + Alive and dead; and for their brethren slain + Religiously they ask a sacrifice. + To this your son is mark'd, and die he must + T' appease their groaning shadows that are gone. + LUCIUS. Away with him, and make a fire straight; + And with our swords, upon a pile of wood, + Let's hew his limbs till they be clean consum'd. + Exeunt TITUS' SONS, with ALARBUS + TAMORA. O cruel, irreligious piety! + CHIRON. Was never Scythia half so barbarous! + DEMETRIUS. Oppose not Scythia to ambitious Rome. + Alarbus goes to rest, and we survive + To tremble under Titus' threat'ning look. + Then, madam, stand resolv'd, but hope withal + The self-same gods that arm'd the Queen of Troy + With opportunity of sharp revenge + Upon the Thracian tyrant in his tent + May favour Tamora, the Queen of Goths- + When Goths were Goths and Tamora was queen- + To quit the bloody wrongs upon her foes. + + Re-enter LUCIUS, QUINTUS, MARTIUS, and + MUTIUS, the sons of ANDRONICUS, with their swords bloody + + LUCIUS. See, lord and father, how we have perform'd + Our Roman rites: Alarbus' limbs are lopp'd, + And entrails feed the sacrificing fire, + Whose smoke like incense doth perfume the sky. + Remaineth nought but to inter our brethren, + And with loud 'larums welcome them to Rome. + TITUS. Let it be so, and let Andronicus + Make this his latest farewell to their souls. + [Sound trumpets and lay the coffin in the tomb] + In peace and honour rest you here, my sons; + Rome's readiest champions, repose you here in rest, + Secure from worldly chances and mishaps! + Here lurks no treason, here no envy swells, + Here grow no damned grudges, here are no storms, + No noise, but silence and eternal sleep. + In peace and honour rest you here, my sons! + + Enter LAVINIA + + LAVINIA. In peace and honour live Lord Titus long; + 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! + TITUS. Kind Rome, that hast thus lovingly reserv'd + 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, above, MARCUS ANDRONICUS and TRIBUNES; + re-enter SATURNINUS, BASSIANUS, and attendants + + MARCUS. Long live Lord Titus, my beloved brother, + Gracious triumpher in the eyes of Rome! + TITUS. Thanks, gentle Tribune, noble brother Marcus. + MARCUS. And welcome, nephews, from successful wars, + You that survive and you that sleep in fame. + Fair lords, your fortunes are alike in all + That in your country's service drew your swords; + But safer triumph is this funeral pomp + That hath aspir'd to Solon's happiness + And triumphs over chance in honour's bed. + Titus Andronicus, the people of Rome, + Whose friend in justice thou hast ever been, + Send thee by me, their Tribune and their trust, + This palliament of white and spotless hue; + And name thee in election for the empire + With these our late-deceased Emperor's sons: + Be candidatus then, and put it on, + And help to set a head on headless Rome. + TITUS. A better head her glorious body fits + Than his that shakes for age and feebleness. + What, should I don this robe and trouble you? + Be chosen with proclamations to-day, + To-morrow yield up rule, resign my life, + And set abroach 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 honour for mine age, + But not a sceptre to control the world. + Upright he held it, lords, that held it last. + MARCUS. Titus, thou shalt obtain and ask the empery. + SATURNINUS. Proud and ambitious Tribune, canst thou tell? + TITUS. Patience, Prince Saturninus. + SATURNINUS. Romans, do me right. + Patricians, draw your swords, and sheathe them not + Till Saturninus be Rome's Emperor. + Andronicus, would thou were shipp'd to hell + Rather than rob me of the people's hearts! + LUCIUS. Proud Saturnine, interrupter of the good + That noble-minded Titus means to thee! + TITUS. Content thee, Prince; I will restore to thee + The people's hearts, and wean them from themselves. + BASSIANUS. Andronicus, I do not flatter thee, + But honour 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 honourable meed. + TITUS. People of Rome, and people's Tribunes here, + I ask your voices and your suffrages: + Will ye bestow them friendly on Andronicus? + TRIBUNES. To gratify the good Andronicus, + And gratulate his safe return to Rome, + The people will accept whom he admits. + TITUS. Tribunes, I thank you; and this suit I make, + That you create our Emperor's eldest son, + Lord Saturnine; whose virtues will, I hope, + Reflect on Rome as Titan's rays on earth, + And ripen justice in this commonweal. + Then, if you will elect by my advice, + Crown him, and say 'Long live our Emperor!' + MARCUS. With voices and applause of every sort, + Patricians and plebeians, we create + Lord Saturninus Rome's great Emperor; + And say 'Long live our Emperor Saturnine!' + [A long flourish till they come down] + SATURNINUS. Titus Andronicus, for thy favours done + To us in our election this day + I give thee thanks in part of thy deserts, + And will with deeds requite thy gentleness; + And for an onset, Titus, to advance + Thy name and honourable family, + Lavinia will I make my empress, + Rome's royal mistress, mistress of my heart, + And in the sacred Pantheon her espouse. + Tell me, Andronicus, doth this motion please thee? + TITUS. It doth, my worthy lord, and in this match + I hold me highly honoured 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 honour's ensigns humbled at thy feet. + SATURNINUS. Thanks, noble Titus, father of my life. + How proud I am of thee and of thy gifts + Rome shall record; and when I do forget + The least of these unspeakable deserts, + Romans, forget your fealty to me. + TITUS. [To TAMORA] Now, madam, are you prisoner to an +emperor; + To him that for your honour and your state + Will use you nobly and your followers. + SATURNINUS. [Aside] A goodly lady, trust me; of the hue + That I would choose, were I to choose anew.- + Clear up, fair Queen, that cloudy countenance; + Though chance of war hath wrought this change of cheer, + Thou com'st not to be made a scorn in Rome- + Princely shall be thy usage every way. + Rest on my word, and let not discontent + Daunt all your hopes. Madam, he comforts you + Can make you greater than the Queen of Goths. + Lavinia, you are not displeas'd with this? + LAVINIA. Not I, my lord, sith true nobility + Warrants these words in princely courtesy. + SATURNINUS. Thanks, sweet Lavinia. Romans, let us go. + Ransomless here we set our prisoners free. + Proclaim our honours, lords, with trump and drum. + [Flourish] + BASSIANUS. Lord Titus, by your leave, this maid is mine. + [Seizing LAVINIA] + TITUS. How, sir! Are you in earnest then, my lord? + BASSIANUS. Ay, noble Titus, and resolv'd withal + To do myself this reason and this right. + MARCUS. Suum cuique is our Roman justice: + This prince in justice seizeth but his own. + LUCIUS. And that he will and shall, if Lucius live. + TITUS. Traitors, avaunt! Where is the Emperor's guard? + Treason, my lord- Lavinia is surpris'd! + SATURNINUS. Surpris'd! By whom? + BASSIANUS. By him that justly may + Bear his betroth'd from all the world away. + Exeunt BASSIANUS and MARCUS with LAVINIA + MUTIUS. Brothers, help to convey her hence away, + And with my sword I'll keep this door safe. + Exeunt LUCIUS, QUINTUS, and MARTIUS + TITUS. Follow, my lord, and I'll soon bring her back. + MUTIUS. My lord, you pass not here. + TITUS. What, villain boy! + Bar'st me my way in Rome? + MUTIUS. Help, Lucius, help! + TITUS kills him. During the fray, exeunt SATURNINUS, + TAMORA, DEMETRIUS, CHIRON, and AARON + + Re-enter Lucius + + LUCIUS. My lord, you are unjust, and more than so: + In wrongful quarrel you have slain your son. + TITUS. Nor thou nor he are any sons of mine; + My sons would never so dishonour me. + + Re-enter aloft the EMPEROR + with TAMORA and her two Sons, and AARON the Moor + + Traitor, restore Lavinia to the Emperor. + LUCIUS. Dead, if you will; but not to be his wife, + That is another's lawful promis'd love. Exit + SATURNINUS. No, Titus, no; the Emperor needs her not, + Nor her, nor thee, nor any of thy stock. + I'll trust by leisure him that mocks me once; + Thee never, nor thy traitorous haughty sons, + Confederates all thus to dishonour me. + Was there none else in Rome to make a stale + But Saturnine? Full well, Andronicus, + Agree these deeds with that proud brag of thine + That saidst I begg'd the empire at thy hands. + TITUS. O monstrous! What reproachful words are these? + SATURNINUS. But go thy ways; go, give that changing piece + To him that 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. 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 pleas'd 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 everything + 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 espous'd 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. I am not bid to wait upon this bride. + TITUS, when wert thou wont to walk alone, + Dishonoured thus, and challenged of wrongs? + + Re-enter MARCUS, + and TITUS' SONS, LUCIUS, QUINTUS, and MARTIUS + + MARCUS. O Titus, see, O, see what thou hast done! + In a bad quarrel slain a virtuous son. + TITUS. No, foolish Tribune, no; no son of mine- + Nor thou, nor these, confederates in the deed + That hath dishonoured all our family; + Unworthy brother and unworthy sons! + LUCIUS. But let us give him burial, as becomes; + Give Mutius burial with our bretheren. + TITUS. 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. My lord, this is impiety in you. + My nephew Mutius' deeds do plead for him; + He must be buried with his bretheren. + QUINTUS & MARTIUS. And shall, or him we will accompany. + TITUS. 'And shall!' What villain was it spake that word? + QUINTUS. He that would vouch it in any place but here. + TITUS. What, would you bury him in my despite? + MARCUS. No, noble Titus, but entreat of thee + To pardon Mutius and to bury him. + TITUS. Marcus, even thou hast struck upon my crest, + And with these boys mine 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. + [The BROTHER and the SONS kneel] + MARCUS. Brother, for in that name doth nature plead- + QUINTUS. Father, and in that name doth nature speak- + TITUS. Speak thou no more, if all the rest will speed. + MARCUS. Renowned Titus, more than half my soul- + LUCIUS. Dear father, soul and substance of us all- + MARCUS. Suffer thy brother Marcus to inter + His noble nephew here in virtue's nest, + That died in 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. Rise, Marcus, rise; + The dismal'st day is this that e'er I saw, + To be dishonoured by my sons in Rome! + Well, bury him, and bury me the next. + [They put MUTIUS in the tomb] + LUCIUS. There lie thy bones, sweet Mutius, with thy friends, + Till we with trophies do adorn thy tomb. + ALL. [Kneeling] No man shed tears for noble Mutius; + He lives in fame that died in virtue's cause. + MARCUS. My lord- to step out of these dreary dumps- + How comes it that the subtle Queen of Goths + Is of a sudden thus advanc'd in Rome? + TITUS. I know not, Marcus, but I know it is- + Whether by device or no, the heavens can tell. + Is she not, then, beholding to the man + That brought her for this high good turn so far? + MARCUS. Yes, and will nobly him remunerate. + + Flourish. Re-enter the EMPEROR, TAMORA + and her two SONS, with the MOOR, at one door; + at the other door, BASSIANUS and LAVINIA, with 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 true betrothed love, and now my wife? + But let the laws of Rome determine all; + Meanwhile am I 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 mov'd to wrath + To be controll'd in that he frankly gave. + Receive him then to favour, Saturnine, + That hath express'd himself in all his deeds + A father and a friend to thee and Rome. + TITUS. Prince Bassianus, leave to plead my deeds. + 'Tis thou and those that have dishonoured me. + Rome and the righteous heavens be my judge + How I have lov'd and honoured Saturnine! + TAMORA. My worthy lord, if ever Tamora + Were gracious in those princely eyes of thine, + Then hear me speak indifferently for all; + And at my suit, sweet, pardon what is past. + SATURNINUS. What, madam! be dishonoured 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 rul'd 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.- + 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. 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 reconcil'd 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, + Tend'ring our sister's honour and our own. + MARCUS. That on mine honour here do I protest. + SATURNINUS. Away, and talk not; trouble us no more. + TAMORA. Nay, nay, sweet Emperor, we must all be friends. + The Tribune and his nephews kneel for grace. + I will not be denied. 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. To-morrow, and 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. + Exeunt. Sound trumpets + + + + +<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM +SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS +PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF CARNEGIE MELLON UNIVERSITY +WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE +DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS +PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED +COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY +SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>> + + + +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, + Advanc'd 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 glistening 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, fett'red 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. + Hullo! what storm is this? + + Enter CHIRON and DEMETRIUS, braving + + DEMETRIUS. Chiron, thy years wants wit, thy wits wants edge + And manners, to intrude where I am grac'd, + And may, for aught thou knowest, 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, unadvis'd, + 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 ye 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 dishonoured in the court of Rome. + For shame, put up. + DEMETRIUS. Not I, till I have sheath'd + My rapier in his bosom, and withal + Thrust those reproachful speeches down his throat + That he hath breath'd in my dishonour here. + CHIRON. For that I am prepar'd and full resolv'd, + Foul-spoken coward, that thund'rest with thy tongue, + And with thy weapon nothing dar'st perform. + AARON. Away, I say! + Now, by the gods that warlike Goths adore, + This pretty 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; an 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: + Lavina 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 mak'st 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 lov'd. + 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 tir'd 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 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 with all what we intend; + And she shall file our engines with advice + That will not suffer you to square yourselves, + But to your wishes' height advance you both. + The Emperor's court is like the house of Fame, + The palace full of tongues, of eyes, and ears; + The woods are ruthless, dreadful, deaf, and dull. + There speak and strike, brave boys, and take your turns; + There serve your lust, shadowed from heaven's eye, + And revel in Lavinia's treasury. + CHIRON. Thy counsel, lad, smells of no cowardice. + DEMETRIUS. Sit fas aut nefas, till I find the stream + To cool this heat, a charm to calm these fits, + Per Styga, per manes vehor. Exeunt + + + + +SCENE II. +A forest near Rome + +Enter TITUS ANDRONICUS, and his three sons, LUCIUS, QUINTUS, +MARTIUS, +making a noise with hounds and horns; and MARCUS + + TITUS. 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 inspir'd. + + Here a cry of hounds, and wind horns in a peal. + Then enter SATURNINUS, TAMORA, BASSIANUS LAVINIA, + CHIRON, DEMETRIUS, and their 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. I have dogs, my lord, + Will rouse the proudest panther in the chase, + And climb the highest promontory top. + TITUS. And I have horse will follow where the game + Makes way, and 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 + + + + +SCENE III. +A lonely part of the forest + +Enter AARON alone, 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 villainy. + And so repose, sweet gold, for their unrest + [Hides the gold] + That have their alms out of the Empress' chest. + + Enter TAMORA alone, to the Moor + + TAMORA. My lovely Aaron, wherefore look'st thou sad + When everything does make a gleeful boast? + The birds chant melody on every bush; + The snakes lie 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 while the babbling echo mocks the hounds, + Replying shrilly to the well-tun'd 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 suppos'd + The wand'ring prince and Dido once enjoyed, + When with a happy storm they were surpris'd, + 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. + + Enter BASSIANUS and LAVINIA + + TAMORA. Ah, my sweet Moor, sweeter to me than life! + AARON. No more, great Empress: Bassianus comes. + Be cross with him; and I'll go fetch thy sons + To back thy quarrels, whatsoe'er they be. Exit + 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 my private steps! + Had I the pow'r 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 thy 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 sequest'red from all your train, + Dismounted from your snow-white goodly steed, + And wand'red 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-coloured love; + This valley fits the purpose passing well. + BASSIANUS. The King my brother shall have notice of this. + LAVINIA. Ay, for these slips have made him noted long. + Good king, to be so mightily abused! + TAMORA. Why, I have patience to endure all this. + + Enter CHIRON and DEMETRIUS + + DEMETRIUS. How now, dear sovereign, and our gracious mother! + Why doth your Highness look so pale and wan? + TAMORA. Have I not reason, think you, to look pale? + These two have 'ticed me hither to this place. + A barren detested vale you see it is: + The trees, though summer, yet forlorn and lean, + Overcome with moss and baleful mistletoe; + Here never shines the sun; here nothing breeds, + Unless the nightly owl or fatal raven. + And when they 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] + LAVINIA. Ay, come, Semiramis- nay, barbarous Tamora, + For no name fits thy nature but thy own! + TAMORA. Give me the poniard; you shall know, my boys, + Your mother's hand shall right your mother's wrong. + DEMETRIUS. Stay, madam, here is more belongs to her; + First thrash the corn, then after burn the straw. + This minion stood upon her chastity, + Upon her nuptial vow, her loyalty, + And with that painted hope braves your mightiness; + And shall she carry this unto her grave? + CHIRON. 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 we desire, + Let not this wasp outlive, us both to sting. + CHIRON. I warrant you, madam, we will make that sure. + Come, mistress, now perforce we will enjoy + That nice-preserved honesty of yours. + LAVINIA. O Tamora! thou bearest a woman's face- + TAMORA. I will not hear her speak; away with her! + LAVINIA. Sweet lords, entreat her hear me but a word. + DEMETRIUS. 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's pity. + CHIRON. What, wouldst thou have me prove myself a bastard? + LAVINIA. 'Tis true, the raven doth not hatch a lark. + Yet have I heard- O, could I find it now!- + The lion, mov'd with pity, did endure + To have his princely paws par'd 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 lov'd 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 beg'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 deflower. Exit + + Re-enter AARON, with two + of TITUS' sons, QUINTUS and MARTIUS + + AARON. Come on, my lords, the better foot before; + Straight will I bring you to the loathsome pit + Where I espied the panther fast asleep. + QUINTUS. My sight is very dull, whate'er it bodes. + MARTIUS. And mine, I promise you; were it not for shame, + Well could I leave our sport to sleep awhile. + [Falls into the pit] + QUINTUS. What, art thou fallen? What subtle hole is this, + Whose mouth is covered with rude-growing briers, + Upon whose leaves are drops of new-shed blood + As fresh as morning dew 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 dismal'st object hurt + That ever eye with sight made heart lament! + AARON. [Aside] Now will I fetch the King to find them here, + That he thereby may have a likely guess + How these were they that made away his brother. Exit + MARTIUS. Why dost not comfort me, and help me out + From this unhallow'd 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 who it is, for ne'er till now + Was I a child to fear I know not what. + MARTIUS. Lord Bassianus lies beray'd in blood, + All on a heap, like to a slaughtered lamb, + In this detested, dark, blood-drinking pit. + QUINTUS. If it be dark, how dost thou know 'tis he? + MARTIUS. Upon his bloody finger he doth wear + A precious ring that lightens all this hole, + Which, like a taper in some monument, + Doth shine upon the dead man's earthy cheeks, + And shows the ragged entrails of this pit; + So pale did shine the moon on Pyramus + When he by night lay bath'd 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 the EMPEROR and AARON the Moor + + SATURNINUS. Along with me! I'll see what hole is here, + And what he is that now is leapt into it. + Say, who art thou that lately didst descend + Into this gaping hollow of the earth? + MARTIUS. The unhappy sons of old Andronicus, + Brought hither in a most unlucky hour, + To find thy brother Bassianus dead. + SATURNINUS. My brother dead! I know thou dost but jest: + He and his lady both are at the lodge + Upon the north side of this pleasant chase; + 'Tis not an hour since I left them there. + MARTIUS. We know not where you left them all alive; + But, out alas! here have we found him dead. + + Re-enter TAMORA, with + attendants; TITUS ANDRONICUS and Lucius + + TAMORA. Where is my lord the King? + SATURNINUS. Here, Tamora; though griev'd with killing grief. + TAMORA. Where is thy brother Bassianus? + SATURNINUS. Now to the bottom dost thou search my wound; + Poor Bassianus here lies murdered. + TAMORA. Then all too late I bring this fatal writ, + The complot of this timeless tragedy; + And wonder greatly that man's face can fold + In pleasing smiles such murderous tyranny. + [She giveth SATURNINE a letter] + SATURNINUS. [Reads] '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 devis'd + Some never-heard-of torturing pain for them. + TAMORA. What, are they in this pit? O wondrous thing! + How easily murder is discovered! + TITUS. 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 prov'd in them- + SATURNINUS. If it be prov'd! You see it is apparent. + Who found this letter? Tamora, was it you? + TAMORA. Andronicus himself did take it up. + TITUS. I did, my lord, yet let me be their bail; + For, by my fathers' reverend tomb, I vow + They shall be ready at your Highness' will + To answer their suspicion with their lives. + SATURNINUS. Thou shalt not bail them; see thou follow me. + Some bring the murdered body, some the murderers; + Let them not speak a word- the guilt is plain; + For, by my soul, were there worse end than death, + That end upon them should be executed. + TAMORA. Andronicus, I will entreat the King. + Fear not thy sons; they shall do well enough. + TITUS. Come, Lucius, come; stay not to talk with them. +Exeunt + + + + +SCENE IV. +Another part of the forest + +Enter the Empress' sons, DEMETRIUS and CHIRON, with LAVINIA, +her hands cut off, and her tongue cut out, and ravish'd + + 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 cause, I should go hang myself. + DEMETRIUS. If thou hadst hands to help thee knit the cord. + Exeunt DEMETRIUS and CHIRON + + Wind horns. Enter MARCUS, from hunting + + MARCUS. Who is this?- my niece, that flies away so fast? + Cousin, a word: where is your husband? + If I do dream, would all my wealth would wake me! + If I do wake, some planet strike me down, + That I may slumber an eternal sleep! + Speak, gentle niece. What stern ungentle hands + Hath 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 half 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 encount'red 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 Philomel, why 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 case thy misery! Exeunt + + + + +<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM +SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS +PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF CARNEGIE MELLON UNIVERSITY +WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE +DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS +PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED +COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY +SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>> + + + +ACT III. SCENE I. +Rome. A street + +Enter the JUDGES, TRIBUNES, and SENATORS, with TITUS' two sons +MARTIUS and QUINTUS bound, passing on the stage to the place of +execution, +and TITUS going before, pleading + + TITUS. Hear me, grave fathers; noble Tribunes, stay! + For pity of mine age, whose youth was spent + In dangerous wars whilst you securely slept; + For all my blood in Rome's great quarrel shed, + For all the frosty nights that I have 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. + [ANDRONICUS lieth down, and the judges + pass by him with the prisoners, and exeunt] + 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 urns, + Than youthful April shall with all his show'rs. + 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 weapon drawn + + O reverend Tribunes! O gentle aged men! + Unbind my sons, reverse the doom of death, + And let me say, that never wept before, + My tears are now prevailing orators. + LUCIUS. O noble father, you lament in vain; + The Tribunes hear you not, no man is by, + And you recount your sorrows to a stone. + TITUS. Ah, Lucius, for thy brothers let me plead! + Grave Tribunes, once more I entreat of you. + LUCIUS. My gracious lord, no tribune hears you speak. + TITUS. Why, 'tis no matter, man: if they did hear, + They would not mark me; if they did mark, + They would not pity me; yet plead I must, + And bootless unto them. + Therefore I tell my sorrows to the stones; + Who though they cannot answer my distress, + Yet in some sort they are better than the Tribunes, + For that they will not intercept my tale. + When I do weep, they humbly at my feet + Receive my tears, and seem to weep with me; + And were they but attired in grave weeds, + Rome could afford no tribunes like to these. + A stone is soft as wax: tribunes more hard than stones. + A stone is silent and offendeth not, + And tribunes with their tongues doom men to death. + [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 pronounc'd + My everlasting doom of banishment. + TITUS. O happy man! they have befriended thee. + Why, foolish Lucius, dost thou not perceive + That Rome is but a wilderness of tigers? + Tigers must prey, and Rome affords no prey + But me and mine; how happy art thou then + From these devourers to be banished! + But who comes with our brother Marcus here? + + Enter MARCUS with LAVINIA + + MARCUS. Titus, prepare thy aged eyes to weep, + Or if not so, thy noble heart to break. + I bring consuming sorrow to thine age. + TITUS. Will it consume me? Let me see it then. + MARCUS. This was thy daughter. + TITUS. Why, Marcus, so she is. + LUCIUS. Ay me! this object kills me. + TITUS. Faint-hearted boy, arise, and look upon her. + Speak, Lavinia, what accursed hand + Hath made thee handless in thy father's sight? + What fool hath added water to the sea, + Or brought a fagot 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 nurs'd this woe in feeding life; + In bootless prayer have they been held up, + And they have serv'd me to effectless use. + Now all the service I require of them + Is that the one will help to cut the other. + 'Tis well, Lavinia, that thou hast no hands; + For hands to do Rome service is but vain. + LUCIUS. Speak, gentle sister, who hath martyr'd thee? + MARCUS. 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. O, thus I found her straying in the park, + Seeking to hide herself as doth the deer + That hath receiv'd some unrecuring wound. + TITUS. It was my dear, and he that wounded her + Hath hurt me more than had he kill'd me dead; + For now I stand as one upon a rock, + Environ'd 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 banish'd 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 gath'red lily almost withered. + MARCUS. Perchance she weeps because they kill'd her husband; + Perchance because she knows them innocent. + TITUS. If they did kill thy husband, then be joyful, + Because the law hath ta'en revenge on them. + No, no, they would not do so foul a deed; + Witness the sorrow that their sister makes. + Gentle Lavinia, let me kiss thy lips, + Or make some sign how I may do thee ease. + Shall thy good uncle and thy brother Lucius + And thou and I sit round about some fountain, + Looking all downwards to behold our cheeks + How they are stain'd, 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 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. Patience, dear niece. Good Titus, dry thine eyes. + TITUS. Ah, Marcus, Marcus! Brother, well I wot + Thy napkin cannot drink a tear of mine, + For thou, poor man, hast drown'd it with thine own. + LUCIUS. Ah, my Lavinia, I will wipe thy cheeks. + TITUS. Mark, Marcus, mark! I understand her signs. + Had she a tongue to speak, now would she say + That to her brother which I said to thee: + His napkin, with his true tears all bewet, + Can do no service on her sorrowful cheeks. + O, what a sympathy of woe is this + As far from help as Limbo is from bliss! + + Enter AARON the Moor + + AARON. Titus Andronicus, my lord the Emperor + Sends thee this word, that, if thou love thy sons, + Let Marcus, Lucius, or thyself, old Titus, + Or any one of you, chop off your hand + And send it to the King: he for the same + Will send thee hither both thy sons alive, + And that shall be the ransom for their fault. + TITUS. O gracious Emperor! O gentle Aaron! + Did ever raven sing so like a lark + That gives sweet tidings of the sun's uprise? + With all my heart I'll send the Emperor my hand. + Good Aaron, wilt thou help to chop it off? + LUCIUS. Stay, father! for that noble hand of thine, + That hath thrown down so many enemies, + Shall not be sent. My hand will serve the turn, + My youth can better spare my blood than you, + And therefore mine shall save my brothers' lives. + MARCUS. Which of your hands hath not defended Rome + And 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. My hand shall go. + LUCIUS. By heaven, it shall not go! + TITUS. Sirs, strive no more; such with'red herbs as these + Are meet for plucking up, and therefore mine. + LUCIUS. Sweet father, if I shall be thought thy son, + Let me redeem my brothers both from death. + MARCUS. And for our father's sake and mother's care, + Now let me show a brother's love to thee. + TITUS. Agree between you; I will spare my hand. + LUCIUS. Then I'll go fetch an axe. + MARCUS. But I will use the axe. + Exeunt LUCIUS and MARCUS + TITUS. 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. + [He cuts off TITUS' hand] + + Re-enter LUCIUS and MARCUS + + TITUS. 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 purchas'd at an easy price; + And yet dear too, because I bought mine own. + AARON. I go, Andronicus; and for thy hand + Look by and by to have thy sons with thee. + [Aside] Their heads I mean. O, how this villainy + Doth fat me with the very thoughts of it! + Let fools do good, and fair men call for grace: + Aaron will have his soul black like his face. Exit + TITUS. 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, would'st thou kneel with +me? + Do, then, dear heart; for heaven shall hear our prayers, + Or with our sighs we'll breathe the welkin dim + And stain the sun with fog, as sometime clouds + When they do hug him in their melting bosoms. + MARCUS. O brother, speak with possibility, + And do not break into these deep extremes. + TITUS. Is not my sorrow deep, having no bottom? + Then be my passions bottomless with them. + MARCUS. But yet let reason govern thy lament. + TITUS. If there were reason for these miseries, + Then into limits could I bind my woes. + When heaven doth weep, doth not the earth o'erflow? + If the winds rage, doth not the sea wax mad, + Threat'ning the welkin with his big-swol'n 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 grief 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. 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. Alas, poor heart, that kiss is comfortless + As frozen water to a starved snake. + TITUS. When will this fearful slumber have an end? + MARCUS. Now farewell, flatt'ry; die, Andronicus. + Thou dost not slumber: see thy two sons' heads, + Thy warlike hand, thy mangled daughter here; + Thy other 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. + Rent off thy silver hair, thy other hand + Gnawing with thy teeth; and be this dismal sight + The closing up of our most wretched eyes. + Now is a time to storm; why art thou still? + TITUS. Ha, ha, ha! + MARCUS. Why dost thou laugh? It fits not with this hour. + TITUS. Why, I have not another tear to shed; + Besides, this sorrow is an enemy, + And would usurp upon my wat'ry eyes + And make them blind with tributary tears. + Then which way shall I find Revenge's cave? + For these two heads do seem to speak to me, + And threat me I shall never come to bliss + Till all these mischiefs be 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 will I bear. + And, Lavinia, thou shalt be employ'd in this; + 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 ye love me, as I think you do, + Let's kiss and part, for we have much to do. + Exeunt all but Lucius + LUCIUS. Farewell, Andronicus, my noble father, + The woefull'st man that ever liv'd 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 pow'r + To be reveng'd on Rome and Saturnine. Exit + + + + +SCENE II. +Rome. TITUS' house + +A banquet. + +Enter TITUS, MARCUS, LAVINIA, and the boy YOUNG LUCIUS + + TITUS. So so, now sit; and look you eat no more + Than will preserve just so much strength in us + As will revenge these bitter woes of ours. + Marcus, unknit that sorrow-wreathen knot; + Thy niece and I, poor creatures, want our hands, + And cannot passionate our tenfold grief + With folded arms. This poor right hand of mine + Is left to tyrannize upon my breast; + And, 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. Fie, brother, fie! Teach her not thus to lay + Such violent hands upon her tender life. + TITUS. How now! Has sorrow made thee dote already? + Why, Marcus, no man should be mad but I. + What violent hands can she lay on her life? + Ah, wherefore dost thou urge the name of hands? + To bid Aeneas tell the tale twice o'er + How Troy was burnt and he made miserable? + O, handle not the theme, to talk of hands, + Lest we remember still that we have none. + Fie, fie, how franticly I square my talk, + As if we should forget we had no hands, + If Marcus did not name the word of hands! + Come, let's fall to; and, gentle girl, eat this: + Here is no drink. Hark, Marcus, what she says- + I can interpret all her 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 practice learn to know thy meaning. + BOY. Good grandsire, leave these bitter deep laments; + Make my aunt merry with some pleasing tale. + MARCUS. Alas, the tender boy, in passion mov'd, + Doth weep to see his grandsire's heaviness. + TITUS. Peace, tender sapling; thou art made of tears, + And tears will quickly melt thy life away. + [MARCUS strikes the dish with a knife] + What dost thou strike at, Marcus, with thy knife? + MARCUS. At that that I have kill'd, my lord- a fly. + TITUS. 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. Alas, my lord, I have but kill'd a fly. + TITUS. 'But!' How if that fly had a father and mother? + How would he hang his slender gilded wings + And buzz lamenting doings in the air! + Poor harmless fly, + That with his pretty buzzing melody + Came here to make us merry! And thou hast kill'd him. + MARCUS. Pardon me, sir; it was a black ill-favour'd fly, + Like to the Empress' Moor; therefore I kill'd him. + TITUS. O, O, O! + Then pardon me for reprehending thee, + For thou hast done a charitable deed. + Give me thy knife, I will insult on him, + Flattering myself as if it were the Moor + Come hither purposely to poison me. + There's for thyself, and that's for Tamora. + Ah, sirrah! + Yet, I think, we are not brought so low + But that between us we can kill a fly + That comes in likeness of a coal-black Moor. + MARCUS. Alas, poor man! grief has so wrought on him, + He takes false shadows for true substances. + TITUS. Come, take away. Lavinia, go with me; + I'll to thy closet, and go read with thee + Sad stories chanced in the times of old. + Come, boy, and go with me; thy sight is young, + And thou shalt read when mine begin to dazzle. Exeunt + + + + +<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM +SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS +PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF CARNEGIE MELLON UNIVERSITY +WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE +DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS +PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED +COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY +SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>> + + + +ACT IV. SCENE I. +Rome. TITUS' garden + +Enter YOUNG LUCIUS and LAVINIA running after him, +and the boy flies from her with his books under his arm. + +Enter TITUS and MARCUS + + BOY. Help, grandsire, help! my aunt Lavinia + Follows me everywhere, I know not why. + Good uncle Marcus, see how swift she comes! + Alas, sweet aunt, I know not what you mean. + MARCUS. Stand by me, Lucius; do not fear thine aunt. + TITUS. She loves thee, boy, too well to do thee harm. + BOY. Ay, when my father was in Rome she did. + MARCUS. What means my niece Lavinia by these signs? + TITUS. Fear her not, Lucius; somewhat doth she mean. + See, Lucius, see how much she makes of thee. + Somewhither would she have thee go with her. + Ah, boy, Cornelia never with more care + Read to her sons than she hath read to thee + Sweet poetry and Tully's Orator. + MARCUS. Canst thou not guess wherefore she plies thee thus? + BOY. My lord, I know not, I, nor can I guess, + Unless some fit or frenzy do possess her; + For I have heard my grandsire say full oft + Extremity of griefs would make men mad; + And I have read that Hecuba of Troy + Ran mad for sorrow. That made me to fear; + Although, my lord, I know my noble aunt + Loves me as dear as e'er my mother did, + And would not, but in fury, fright my youth; + Which made me down to throw my books, and fly- + Causeless, perhaps. But pardon me, sweet aunt; + And, madam, if my uncle Marcus go, + I will most willingly attend your ladyship. + MARCUS. Lucius, I will. [LAVINIA turns over with her + stumps the books which Lucius has let fall] + TITUS. How now, Lavinia! Marcus, what means this? + Some book there is that she desires to see. + Which is it, girl, of these?- Open them, boy.- + 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. I think she means that there were more than one + Confederate in the fact; ay, more there was, + Or else to heaven she heaves them for revenge. + TITUS. Lucius, what book is that she tosseth so? + BOY. Grandsire, 'tis Ovid's Metamorphoses; + My mother gave it me. + MARCUS. For love of her that's gone, + Perhaps she cull'd it from among the rest. + TITUS. Soft! So busily she turns the leaves! Help her. + What would she find? Lavinia, shall I read? + This is the tragic tale of Philomel + And treats of Tereus' treason and his rape; + And rape, I fear, was root of thy annoy. + MARCUS. See, brother, see! Note how she quotes the leaves. + TITUS. Lavinia, wert thou thus surpris'd, sweet girl, + Ravish'd and wrong'd as Philomela was, + Forc'd 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. O, why should nature build so foul a den, + Unless the gods delight in tragedies? + TITUS. Give signs, sweet girl, for here are none but friends, + What Roman lord it was durst do the deed. + Or slunk not Saturnine, as Tarquin erst, + That left the camp to sin in Lucrece' bed? + MARCUS. Sit down, sweet niece; brother, sit down by me. + Apollo, Pallas, Jove, or Mercury, + Inspire me, that I may this treason find! + My lord, look here! Look here, Lavinia! + [He writes his name with his + staff, and guides it with feet and mouth] + This sandy plot is plain; guide, if thou canst, + This after me. I have writ my name + Without the help of any hand at all. + Curs'd be that heart that forc'd us to this shift! + Write thou, good niece, and here display at last + What God will have discovered for revenge. + Heaven guide thy pen to print thy sorrows plain, + That we may know the traitors and the truth! + [She takes the staff in her mouth + and guides it with stumps, and writes] + O, do ye read, my lord, what she hath writ? + TITUS. 'Stuprum- Chiron- Demetrius.' + MARCUS. What, what! the lustful sons of Tamora + Performers of this heinous bloody deed? + TITUS. Magni Dominator poli, + Tam lentus audis scelera? tam lentus vides? + MARCUS. O, calm thee, gentle lord! although I know + There is enough written upon this earth + To stir a mutiny in the mildest thoughts, + And arm the minds of infants to exclaims. + My lord, kneel down with me; Lavinia, kneel; + And kneel, sweet boy, the Roman Hector's hope; + And swear with me- as, with the woeful fere + And father of that chaste dishonoured 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. 'Tis sure enough, an you knew how; + But if you hunt these bear-whelps, then beware: + The dam will wake; and if she wind ye once, + She's with the lion deeply still in league, + And lulls him whilst she playeth on her back, + And when he sleeps will she do what she list. + You are a young huntsman, Marcus; let alone; + And come, I will go get a leaf of brass, + And with a gad of steel will write these words, + And lay it by. The angry northern wind + Will blow these sands like Sibyl's leaves abroad, + And where's our lesson, then? Boy, what say you? + BOY. I say, my lord, that if I were a man + Their mother's bedchamber should not be safe + For these base bondmen to the yoke of Rome. + MARCUS. Ay, that's my boy! Thy father hath full oft + For his ungrateful country done the like. + BOY. And, uncle, so will I, an if I live. + TITUS. Come, go with me into mine armoury. + 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? + BOY. Ay, with my dagger in their bosoms, grandsire. + TITUS. No, boy, not so; I'll teach thee another course. + Lavinia, come. Marcus, look to my house. + Lucius and I'll go brave it at the court; + Ay, marry, will we, sir! and we'll be waited on. + Exeunt TITUS, LAVINIA, and YOUNG LUCIUS + MARCUS. O heavens, can you hear a good man groan + And not relent, or not compassion him? + Marcus, attend him in his ecstasy, + That hath more scars of sorrow in his heart + Than foemen's marks upon his batt'red shield, + But yet so just that he will not revenge. + Revenge the heavens for old Andronicus! Exit + + + + +SCENE II. +Rome. The palace + +Enter AARON, DEMETRIUS and CHIRON, at one door; and at the other +door, +YOUNG LUCIUS and another with a bundle of weapons, and verses +writ upon them + + CHIRON. Demetrius, here's the son of Lucius; + He hath some message to deliver us. + AARON. Ay, some mad message from his mad grandfather. + BOY. 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? + BOY. [Aside] That you are both decipher'd, that's the news, + For villains mark'd with rape.- May it please you, + My grandsire, well advis'd, hath sent by me + The goodliest weapons of his armoury + To gratify your honourable youth, + The hope of Rome; for so he bid me say; + And so I do, and with his gifts present + Your lordships, that, whenever you have need, + You may be armed and appointed well. + And so I leave you both- [Aside] like bloody villains. + 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 iaculis, nec arcu.' + CHIRON. O, 'tis a verse in Horace, I know it well; + I read it in the grammar long ago. + AARON. Ay, just- a verse in Horace. Right, you have it. + [Aside] Now, what a thing it is to be an ass! + Here's no sound jest! The old man hath found their guilt, + And sends them weapons wrapp'd 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] + DEMETRIUS. Why do the Emperor's trumpets flourish thus? + CHIRON. Belike, for joy the Emperor hath a son. + DEMETRIUS. Soft! who comes here? + + Enter NURSE, with a blackamoor CHILD + + NURSE. Good morrow, lords. + O, tell me, did you see Aaron the Moor? + AARON. Well, more or less, or ne'er a whit at all, + Here Aaron is; and what with Aaron now? + NURSE. O gentle Aaron, we are all undone! + Now help, or woe betide thee evermore! + AARON. Why, what a caterwauling dost thou keep! + What dost thou wrap and fumble in thy arms? + NURSE. O, that which I would hide from heaven's eye: + Our Empress' shame and stately Rome's disgrace! + She is delivered, lord; she is delivered. + 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 fair-fac'd 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 her. + Woe to her chance, and damn'd her loathed choice! + Accurs'd 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 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, ye sanguine, shallow-hearted boys! + Ye white-lim'd 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 my self, + 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 for ever sham'd. + CHIRON. Rome will despise her for this foul escape. + NURSE. The Emperor in his rage will doom her death. + CHIRON. I blush to think upon this ignomy. + AARON. Why, there's the privilege your beauty bears: + Fie, treacherous hue, that will betray with blushing + The close enacts and counsels of thy heart! + Here's a young lad fram'd 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 your womb where you imprisoned were + He is enfranchised and come to light. + Nay, he is your brother by the surer side, + Although my seal be stamped in his face. + NURSE. Aaron, what shall I say unto the Empress? + DEMETRIUS. Advise thee, Aaron, what is to be done, + And we will all subscribe to thy advice. + Save thou the child, so we may all be safe. + AARON. Then sit we down and let us all consult. + My son and I will have the wind of you: + Keep there; now talk at pleasure of your safety. + [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 delivered Empress. + AARON. The Empress, the midwife, and yourself. + Two may keep counsel when the third's away: + Go to the Empress, tell her this I said. [He kills her] + Weeke weeke! + 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-tongu'd babbling gossip? No, lords, no. + And now be it known to you my full intent: + Not far, one Muliteus 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 advanc'd, + 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. You 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 dead NURSE + + 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 with the CHILD + + + + +SCENE III. +Rome. A public place + +Enter TITUS, bearing arrows with letters on the ends of them; +with him MARCUS, YOUNG LUCIUS, and other gentlemen, +PUBLIUS, SEMPRONIUS, and CAIUS, with bows + + TITUS. Come, Marcus, come; kinsmen, this is the way. + Sir boy, let me see your archery; + Look ye draw home enough, and 'tis there straight. + Terras Astrea reliquit, + Be you rememb'red, 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. O Publius, is not this a heavy case, + To see thy noble uncle thus distract? + PUBLIUS. Therefore, my lords, it highly us concerns + By day and night t' attend him carefully, + And feed his humour kindly as we may + Till time beget some careful remedy. + MARCUS. 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. 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. 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-bon'd men fram'd of the Cyclops' size; + But metal, Marcus, steel to the very back, + Yet wrung with wrongs more than our backs can bear; + And, sith there's no justice in earth nor hell, + We will solicit heaven, and move the gods + To send down justice for to wreak our wrongs. + Come, to this gear. You are a good archer, Marcus. + [He gives them the arrows] + 'Ad Jovem' that's for you; here 'Ad Apollinem.' + 'Ad Martem' that's for myself. + Here, boy, 'To Pallas'; here 'To Mercury.' + 'To Saturn,' Caius- not to Saturnine: + You were as good to shoot against the wind. + To it, boy. Marcus, loose when I bid. + Of my word, I have written to effect; + There's not a god left unsolicited. + MARCUS. Kinsmen, shoot all your shafts into the court; + We will afflict the Emperor in his pride. + TITUS. Now, masters, draw. [They shoot] O, well said, Lucius! + Good boy, in Virgo's lap! Give it Pallas. + MARCUS. My lord, I aim a mile beyond the moon; + Your letter is with Jupiter by this. + TITUS. Ha! ha! + Publius, Publius, hast thou done? + See, see, thou hast shot off one of Taurus' horns. + MARCUS. This was the sport, my lord: when Publius shot, + The Bull, being 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. Why, there it goes! God give his lordship joy! + + Enter the 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. Ho, the gibbet-maker? He says that he hath taken them +down + again, for the man must not be hang'd till the next week. + TITUS. But what says Jupiter, I ask thee? + CLOWN. Alas, sir, I know not Jupiter; I never drank with him in +all + my life. + TITUS. Why, villain, art not thou the carrier? + CLOWN. Ay, of my pigeons, sir; nothing else. + TITUS. 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 Emperal's men. + MARCUS. Why, sir, that is as fit as can be to serve for your + oration; and let him deliver the pigeons to the Emperor from +you. + TITUS. Tell me, can you deliver an oration to the Emperor with +a + grace? + CLOWN. Nay, truly, sir, I could never say grace in all my life. + TITUS. Sirrah, come hither. Make no more ado, + But give your pigeons to the Emperor; + By me thou shalt have justice at his hands. + Hold, hold! Meanwhile here's money for thy charges. + Give me pen and ink. Sirrah, can you with a grace deliver up +a + supplication? + CLOWN. Ay, sir. + TITUS. Then here is a supplication for you. And when you come +to + him, at the first approach you must kneel; then kiss his +foot; + then deliver up your pigeons; and then look for your reward. +I'll + be at hand, sir; see you do it bravely. + CLOWN. I warrant you, sir; let me alone. + TITUS. Sirrah, hast thou a knife? Come let me see it. + Here, Marcus, fold it in the oration; + For thou hast made it like a humble suppliant. + And when thou hast given it to the Emperor, + Knock at my door, and tell me what he says. + CLOWN. God be with you, sir; I will. + TITUS. Come, Marcus, let us go. Publius, follow me. Exeunt + + + + +SCENE IV. +Rome. Before the palace + +Enter the EMPEROR, and the EMPRESS and her two sons, DEMETRIUS +and CHIRON; +LORDS and others. The EMPEROR brings the arrows in his hand that +TITUS +shot at him + + SATURNINUS. Why, lords, what wrongs are these! Was ever seen + An emperor in Rome thus overborne, + Troubled, confronted thus; and, for the extent + Of egal justice, us'd in such contempt? + My lords, you know, as know the mightful gods, + However these disturbers of our peace + Buzz in the people's ears, there nought hath pass'd + But even with law against the wilful 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 unjustice 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 he in fury shall + Cut off the proud'st conspirator that lives. + TAMORA. My gracious lord, my lovely Saturnine, + Lord of my life, commander of my thoughts, + Calm thee, and bear the faults of Titus' age, + Th' effects of sorrow for his valiant sons + Whose loss hath pierc'd 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 touch'd thee to the quick, + Thy life-blood on't; if Aaron now be wise, + Then is all safe, the anchor in the port. + + Enter CLOWN + + How now, good fellow! Wouldst thou speak with us? + CLOWN. Yes, forsooth, an your mistriship be Emperial. + TAMORA. Empress I am, but yonder sits the Emperor. + CLOWN. 'Tis he.- God and Saint Stephen give you godden. 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 hang'd. + CLOWN. Hang'd! 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 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 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 NUNTIUS AEMILIUS + + What news with thee, Aemilius? + AEMILIUS. Arm, my lords! Rome never had more cause. + The Goths have gathered head; and with a power + Of high resolved men, bent to the spoil, + They hither march amain, under conduct + Of Lucius, son to old Andronicus; + Who threats in course of this revenge to do + As much as ever Coriolanus did. + SATURNINUS. Is warlike Lucius general of the Goths? + These tidings nip me, and I hang the head + As flowers with frost, or grass beat down with storms. + Ay, now begins our sorrows to approach. + 'Tis he the common people love so much; + Myself hath often heard them say- + When I have walked like a private man- + That Lucius' banishment was wrongfully, + And they have wish'd that Lucius were their emperor. + TAMORA. Why should you fear? Is not your city strong? + SATURNINUS. Ay, but the citizens favour Lucius, + And will revolt from me to succour 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 mayest 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 ears + With golden promises, that, were his heart + Almost impregnable, his old ears deaf, + Yet should both ear and heart obey my tongue. + [To AEMILIUS] Go thou before to be our ambassador; + Say that the Emperor requests a parley + Of warlike Lucius, and appoint the meeting + Even at his father's house, the old Andronicus. + SATURNINUS. Aemilius, do this message 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 + + + + +<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM +SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS +PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF CARNEGIE MELLON UNIVERSITY +WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE +DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS +PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED +COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY +SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>> + + + +ACT V. SCENE I. +Plains near Rome + +Enter LUCIUS with an army of GOTHS with drums and colours + + LUCIUS. Approved warriors and my faithful friends, + I have received letters from great Rome + Which signifies what hate they bear their Emperor + And how desirous of our sight they are. + Therefore, great lords, be, as your titles witness, + Imperious and impatient of your wrongs; + And wherein Rome hath done you any 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 flow'red fields, + And be aveng'd 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, + Surpris'd 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 pleas'd your Empress' eye; + And here's the base fruit of her burning lust. + Say, wall-ey'd 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 climb] + AARON. Lucius, save the child, + And bear it from me to the Empress. + If thou do this, I'll show thee wondrous things + That highly may advantage thee to hear; + If thou wilt not, befall what may befall, + I'll speak no more but 'Vengeance rot you all!' + LUCIUS. Say on; 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, villainies, + Ruthful to hear, yet piteously perform'd; + And this shall all be buried in my death, + Unless thou swear to me my child shall live. + LUCIUS. Tell on thy mind; I say thy child shall live. + AARON. Swear that he shall, and then I will begin. + LUCIUS. Who should I swear by? Thou believest no god; + That granted, how canst thou believe an oath? + AARON. What if I do not? as indeed I do not; + Yet, for I know thou art religious + And hast a thing within thee called conscience, + With twenty popish tricks and ceremonies + Which I have seen thee careful to observe, + Therefore I urge thy oath. For that I know + An idiot holds his bauble for a god, + And keeps the oath which by that god he swears, + To that I'll urge him. Therefore thou shalt vow + By that same god- what god soe'er it be + That thou adorest and hast in reverence- + To save my boy, to nourish and bring him up; + Or else I will discover nought to thee. + LUCIUS. Even by my god I swear to thee I will. + AARON. First know thou, I begot him on the Empress. + LUCIUS. O most insatiate and luxurious woman! + AARON. Tut, Lucius, this was but a deed of charity + To that which thou shalt hear of me anon. + 'Twas her two sons that murdered Bassianus; + They cut thy sister's tongue, and ravish'd her, + And cut her hands, and trimm'd her as thou sawest. + LUCIUS. O detestable villain! Call'st thou that trimming? + AARON. Why, she was wash'd, and cut, and trimm'd, and 'twas + Trim sport for them which had the doing of it. + LUCIUS. O barbarous beastly villains like thyself! + AARON. Indeed, I was their tutor to instruct them. + That codding spirit had they from their mother, + As sure a card as ever won the set; + That bloody mind, I think, they learn'd of me, + As true a dog as ever fought at head. + Well, let my deeds be witness of my worth. + 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 that letter mention'd, + 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 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 pried 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. + GOTH. What, canst thou say all this and never blush? + AARON. Ay, like a black dog, as the saying is. + LUCIUS. Art thou not sorry for these heinous deeds? + AARON. Ay, that I had not done a thousand more. + Even now I curse the day- and yet, I think, + Few come within the compass of my curse- + Wherein I did not some notorious ill; + As kill a man, or else devise his death; + Ravish a maid, or plot the way to do it; + Accuse some innocent, and forswear myself; + Set deadly enmity between two friends; + Make poor men's cattle break their necks; + Set fire on barns and 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' door + Even when their sorrows almost was forgot, + And on their skins, as on the bark of trees, + Have with my knife carved in Roman letters + 'Let not your sorrow die, though I am dead.' + 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. + + Enter AEMILIUS + + GOTH. My lord, there is a messenger from Rome + Desires to be admitted to your presence. + LUCIUS. Let him come near. + 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. Exeunt + + + + +SCENE II. +Rome. Before TITUS' house + +Enter TAMORA, and her two sons, DEMETRIUS and CHIRON, disguised + + TAMORA. Thus, in this strange and sad habiliment, + I will encounter with Andronicus, + And say I am Revenge, sent from below + To join with him and right his heinous wrongs. + Knock at his study, where they say he keeps + To ruminate strange plots of dire revenge; + Tell him Revenge is come to join with him, + And work confusion on his enemies. + + They knock and TITUS opens his study door, above + + TITUS. Who doth molest my contemplation? + Is it your trick to make me ope the door, + That so my sad decrees may fly away + And all my study be to no effect? + You are deceiv'd; for what I mean to do + See here in bloody lines I have set down; + And what is written shall be executed. + TAMORA. Titus, I am come to talk with thee. + TITUS. No, not a word. How can I grace my talk, + Wanting a hand to give it that accord? + Thou hast the odds of me; therefore no more. + TAMORA. If thou didst know me, thou wouldst talk with me. + TITUS. I am not mad, I know thee well enough: + Witness this wretched stump, witness these crimson lines; + Witness these trenches made by grief and care; + Witness the tiring day and heavy night; + Witness all sorrow that I know thee well + For our proud Empress, mighty Tamora. + Is not thy coming for my other hand? + TAMORA. Know thou, sad man, I am not Tamora: + She is thy enemy and I thy friend. + I am Revenge, sent from th' infernal kingdom + To ease the gnawing vulture of thy mind + By working wreakful vengeance on thy foes. + Come down and welcome me to this world's light; + Confer with me of murder and of death; + There's not a hollow cave or lurking-place, + No vast obscurity or misty vale, + Where bloody murder or detested rape + Can couch for fear but I will find them out; + And in their ears tell them my dreadful name- + Revenge, which makes the foul offender quake. + TITUS. Art thou Revenge? and art thou sent to me + To be a torment to mine enemies? + TAMORA. I am; therefore come down and welcome me. + TITUS. Do me some service ere I come to thee. + Lo, by thy side where Rape and Murder stands; + Now give some surance that thou art Revenge- + Stab them, or tear them on thy chariot wheels; + And then I'll come and be thy waggoner + And whirl along with thee about the globes. + 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 thy 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. + TAMORA. These are my ministers, and come with me. + TITUS. Are they thy ministers? What are they call'd? + TAMORA. Rape and Murder; therefore called so + 'Cause they take vengeance of such kind of men. + TITUS. Good Lord, how like the Empress' sons they are! + And you the Empress! But we worldly men + Have miserable, mad, mistaking eyes. + O sweet Revenge, now do I come to thee; + And, if one arm's embracement will content thee, + I will embrace thee in it by and by. + TAMORA. This closing with him fits his lunacy. + Whate'er I forge to feed his brain-sick humours, + Do you uphold and maintain in your speeches, + For now he firmly takes me for Revenge; + And, being credulous in this mad thought, + I'll make him send for Lucius his son, + And whilst I at a banquet hold him sure, + I'll find some cunning practice out of hand + To scatter and disperse the giddy Goths, + Or, at the least, make them his enemies. + See, here he comes, and I must ply my theme. + + Enter TITUS, below + + TITUS. Long have I been forlorn, and all for thee. + Welcome, dread Fury, to my woeful house. + Rapine and Murder, you are welcome too. + How like the Empress and her sons you are! + Well are you fitted, had you but a Moor. + Could not all hell afford you such a devil? + For well I wot the Empress never wags + But in her company there is a Moor; + And, would you represent our queen aright, + It were convenient you had such a devil. + But welcome as you are. What shall we do? + TAMORA. What wouldst thou have us do, Andronicus? + DEMETRIUS. Show me a murderer, I'll deal with him. + CHIRON. Show me a villain that hath done a rape, + And I am sent to be reveng'd on him. + TAMORA. Show me a thousand that hath done thee wrong, + And I will be revenged on them all. + TITUS. 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 is a ravisher. + Go thou with them; and in the Emperor's court + There is a queen, attended by a Moor; + Well shalt thou know her by thine own proportion, + For up and down she doth resemble thee. + I pray thee, do on them some violent death; + They have been violent to me and mine. + TAMORA. Well hast thou 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 shall they stoop and kneel, + And on them shalt thou ease thy angry heart. + What says Andronicus to this device? + TITUS. Marcus, my brother! 'Tis sad Titus calls. + + Enter MARCUS + + Go, gentle Marcus, to thy nephew Lucius; + Thou shalt inquire him out among the Goths. + Bid him repair to me, and bring with him + Some of the chiefest princes of the Goths; + Bid him encamp his soldiers where they are. + Tell him the Emperor and the Empress too + Feast at my house, and he shall feast with them. + This do thou for my love; and so let him, + As he regards his aged father's life. + MARCUS. This will I do, and soon return again. Exit + TAMORA. Now will I hence about thy business, + And take my ministers along with me. + TITUS. Nay, nay, let Rape and Murder stay with me, + Or else I'll call my brother back again, + And cleave to no revenge but Lucius. + TAMORA. [Aside to her sons] What say you, boys? Will you +abide + with him, + Whiles I go tell my lord the Emperor + How I have govern'd our determin'd jest? + Yield to his humour, smooth and speak him fair, + And tarry with him till I turn again. + TITUS. [Aside] I knew them all, though they suppos'd me mad, + And will o'er reach 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. I know thou dost; and, sweet Revenge, farewell. + Exit TAMORA + CHIRON. Tell us, old man, how shall we be employ'd? + TITUS. Tut, I have work enough for you to do. + Publius, come hither, Caius, and Valentine. + + Enter PUBLIUS, CAIUS, and VALENTINE + + PUBLIUS. What is your will? + TITUS. Know you these two? + PUBLIUS. The Empress' sons, I take them: Chiron, Demetrius. + TITUS. Fie, Publius, fie! thou art too much deceiv'd. + The one is Murder, and Rape is the other's name; + And therefore bind them, gentle Publius- + Caius and Valentine, lay hands on them. + Oft have you heard me wish for such an hour, + And now I find it; therefore bind them sure, + And stop their mouths if they begin to cry. Exit + [They 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 ANDRONICUS + with a knife, and LAVINIA, with a basin + + TITUS. Come, come, Lavinia; look, thy foes are bound. + Sirs, stop their mouths, let them not speak to me; + But let them hear what fearful words I utter. + O villains, Chiron and Demetrius! + Here stands the spring whom you have 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 forc'd. + What would you say, if I should let you speak? + Villains, for shame you could not beg for grace. + Hark, wretches! how I mean to martyr you. + This one hand yet is left to cut your throats, + Whiles that Lavinia 'tween her stumps doth hold + The basin that receives your guilty blood. + You know your mother means to feast with me, + And calls herself Revenge, and thinks me mad. + Hark, villains! I will grind your bones to dust, + And with your blood and it I'll make a paste; + And of the paste a coffin I will rear, + And make two pasties of your shameful heads; + And bid that strumpet, your unhallowed dam, + Like to the earth, swallow her own increase. + This is the feast that I have bid her to, + And this the banquet she shall surfeit on; + For worse than Philomel you us'd my daughter, + And worse than Progne I will be reveng'd. + 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 bak'd. + Come, come, be every one officious + To make this banquet, which I wish may prove + More stern and bloody than the Centaurs' feast. + [He cuts their throats] + So. + Now bring them in, for I will play the cook, + And see them ready against their mother comes. + Exeunt, bearing the dead bodies + + + + +SCENE III. +The court of TITUS' house + +Enter Lucius, MARCUS, and the GOTHS, with AARON prisoner, +and his CHILD in the arms of an attendant + + LUCIUS. Uncle Marcus, since 'tis my father's mind + That I repair to Rome, I am content. + FIRST GOTH. And ours with thine, befall what fortune will. + LUCIUS. Good uncle, take you in this barbarous Moor, + This ravenous tiger, this accursed devil; + Let him receive no sust'nance, fetter him, + Till he be brought unto the Empress' face + For testimony of her foul proceedings. + And see the ambush of our friends be strong; + I fear the Emperor means no good to us. + AARON. Some devil whisper curses in my ear, + And prompt me that my tongue may utter forth + The venomous malice of my swelling heart! + LUCIUS. Away, inhuman dog, unhallowed slave! + Sirs, help our uncle to convey him in. + Exeunt GOTHS with AARON. Flourish within + The trumpets show the Emperor is at hand. + + Sound trumpets. 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. 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. + [A table brought in. The company sit down] + + Trumpets sounding, enter TITUS + like a cook, placing the dishes, and LAVINIA + with a veil over her face; also YOUNG LUCIUS, and others + + TITUS. Welcome, my 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 attir'd, Andronicus? + TITUS. Because I would be sure to have all well + To entertain your Highness and your Empress. + TAMORA. We are beholding to you, good Andronicus. + TITUS. An if your Highness knew my heart, you were. + My lord the Emperor, resolve me this: + Was it well done of rash Virginius + To slay his daughter with his own right hand, + Because she was enforc'd, stain'd, and deflower'd? + SATURNINUS. It was, Andronicus. + TITUS. Your reason, mighty lord. + SATURNINUS. Because the girl should not survive her shame, + And by her presence still renew his sorrows. + TITUS. A reason mighty, strong, and effectual; + A pattern, precedent, and lively warrant + For me, most wretched, to perform the like. + Die, die, Lavinia, and thy shame with thee; [He kills her] + And with thy shame thy father's sorrow die! + SATURNINUS. What hast thou done, unnatural and unkind? + TITUS. Kill'd her for whom my tears have made me blind. + I am as woeful as Virginius was, + And have a thousand times more cause than he + To do this outrage; and it now is done. + SATURNINUS. What, was she ravish'd? Tell who did the deed. + TITUS. Will't please you eat? Will't please your Highness +feed? + TAMORA. Why hast thou slain thine only daughter thus? + TITUS. Not I; 'twas Chiron and Demetrius. + They ravish'd her, and cut away her tongue; + And they, 'twas they, that did her all this wrong. + SATURNINUS. Go, fetch them hither to us presently. + TITUS. Why, there they are, both baked in this pie, + Whereof their mother daintily hath fed, + Eating the flesh that she herself hath bred. + 'Tis true, 'tis true: witness my knife's sharp point. + [He stabs the EMPRESS] + SATURNINUS. Die, frantic wretch, for this accursed deed! + [He stabs TITUS] + LUCIUS. Can the son's eye behold his father bleed? + There's meed for meed, death for a deadly deed. + [He stabs SATURNINUS. A great tumult. LUCIUS, + MARCUS, and their friends go up into the balcony] + MARCUS. You sad-fac'd men, people and sons of Rome, + By uproars sever'd, as a flight of fowl + Scatter'd by winds and high tempestuous gusts? + O, let me teach you how to knit again + This scattered corn into one mutual sheaf, + These broken limbs again into one body; + Lest Rome herself be bane unto herself, + And she whom mighty kingdoms curtsy to, + Like a forlorn and desperate castaway, + Do shameful execution on herself. + But if my frosty signs and chaps of age, + Grave witnesses of true experience, + Cannot induce you to attend my words, + [To Lucius] Speak, Rome's dear friend, as erst our ancestor, + + When with his solemn tongue he did discourse + To love-sick Dido's sad attending ear + The story of that baleful burning night, + When subtle Greeks surpris'd King Priam's Troy. + Tell us what Sinon hath bewitch'd 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 utt'rance, even in the time + When it should move ye to attend me most, + And force you to commiseration. + Here's Rome's young Captain, let him tell the tale; + While I stand by and weep to hear him speak. + LUCIUS. Then, gracious auditory, be it known to you + That Chiron and the damn'd Demetrius + Were they that murd'red our Emperor's brother; + And they it were that ravished our sister. + For their fell faults our brothers were beheaded, + Our father's tears despis'd, and basely cozen'd + Of that true hand that fought Rome's quarrel out + And sent her enemies unto the grave. + Lastly, myself unkindly banished, + The gates shut on me, and turn'd weeping out, + To beg relief among Rome's enemies; + Who drown'd their enmity in my true tears, + And op'd their arms to embrace me as a friend. + I am the turned forth, be it known to you, + That have preserv'd her welfare in my blood + And from her bosom took the enemy's point, + Sheathing the steel in my advent'rous body. + Alas! you know I am no vaunter, I; + My scars can witness, dumb although they are, + That my report is just and full of truth. + But, soft! methinks I do digress too much, + Citing my worthless praise. O, pardon me! + For when no friends are by, men praise themselves. + MARCUS. Now is my turn to speak. Behold the child. + [Pointing to the CHILD in an attendant's arms] + Of this was Tamora delivered, + The issue of an irreligious Moor, + Chief architect and plotter of these woes. + The villain is alive in Titus' house, + Damn'd as he is, to witness this is true. + Now judge what cause had Titus to revenge + These wrongs unspeakable, past patience, + Or more than any living man could bear. + Now have you heard the truth: what say you, Romans? + Have we done aught amiss, show us wherein, + And, from the place where you behold us pleading, + The poor remainder of Andronici + Will, hand in hand, all headlong hurl ourselves, + And on the ragged stones beat forth our souls, + And make a mutual closure of our house. + Speak, Romans, speak; and if you say we shall, + Lo, hand in hand, Lucius and I will fall. + AEMILIUS. Come, come, thou reverend man of Rome, + And bring our Emperor gently in thy hand, + Lucius our Emperor; for well I know + The common voice do cry it shall be so. + ALL. Lucius, all hail, Rome's royal Emperor! + MARCUS. Go, go into old Titus' sorrowful house, + And hither hale that misbelieving Moor + To be adjudg'd some direful slaught'ring death, + As punishment for his most wicked life. Exeunt some + 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. [Kisses TITUS] + These sorrowful drops upon thy blood-stain'd face, + The last true duties of thy noble son! + MARCUS. Tear for tear and loving kiss for kiss + Thy brother Marcus tenders on thy lips. + O, were the sum of these that I should pay + Countless and infinite, yet would I pay them! + LUCIUS. Come hither, boy; come, come, come, and learn of us + To melt in showers. Thy grandsire lov'd thee well; + Many a time he danc'd thee on his knee, + Sung thee asleep, his loving breast thy pillow; + Many a story hath he told to thee, + And bid thee bear his pretty tales in mind + And talk of them when he was dead and gone. + MARCUS. How many thousand times hath these poor lips, + When they were living, warm'd 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. + BOY. O grandsire, grandsire! ev'n 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 + + A ROMAN. You sad Andronici, have done with woes; + Give sentence on the 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 fast'ned in the earth. + AARON. Ah, why should wrath be mute and fury dumb? + I am no baby, I, that with base prayers + I should repent the evils I have done; + Ten thousand worse than ever yet I did + Would I perform, if I might have my will. + If one good deed in all my life I did, + I do repent it from my very soul. + 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 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. Exeunt + +THE END + + + + + +<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM +SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS +PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF CARNEGIE MELLON UNIVERSITY +WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE +DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS +PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED +COMMERCIALLY. 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