Aar.
He, that had wit, would think, that I had none,
To bury so much gold under a tree;
And never after to inherit it.
Let him, that thinks of me so abjectly,
Know, that this gold must coin a stratagem;
Which, cunningly effected, will beget
A very excellent piece of villany;
And so repose, sweet gold, for their unrest,
That have their alms out of the Empress' chest. Enter Tamora.

Tam.
My lovely Aaron, wherefore look'st thou sad,
When every thing doth make a gleeful boast?
The birds chaunt melody on every bush,
The snake lies rolled in the chearful sun,
The green leaves quiver with the cooling wind,
And make a checquer'd shadow on the ground:

Under their sweet shade, Aaron, let us sit,
And whilst the babling 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 yelling noise:
And after conflict, such as was suppos'd
The wandring Prince and Dido once enjoy'd,
When with a happy storm they were surpriz'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;
Whilst hounds and horns, and sweet melodious birds
Be unto us, as is a nurse's song
Of lullaby, to bring her babe asleep.

Aar.
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 unrowl
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 scrowl;
Now question me no more, we are espied;
Here comes a parcel of our hopeful booty,
Which dread not yet their lives destruction.

Tam.
Ah, my sweet Moor, sweeter to me than life.

Aar.
No more, great Empress, Bassianus comes;
Be cross with him, and I'll go fetch thy sons
To back thy quarrels, whatsoe'er they be. [Exit.

Enter Bassianus and Lavinia.

Bas.
Whom have we here? Rome's royal Emperess?
Unfurnish'd of her well-beseeming troops?
Or is it Dian, habited like her,
Who hath abandoned her holy groves,
To see the general Hunting in this forest?

Tam.
Sawcy controuller of our private steps:
Had I the power, that, some say, Dian had,
Thy Temples should be planted presently
With horns, as was Acteon's; and the hounds
Should drive upon thy new-transformed limbs,
Unmannerly Intruder as thou art!

Lav.
Under your patience, gentle Emperess,
'Tis thought, you have a goodly gift in horning;
And to be doubted, that your Moor and you
Are singled forth to try experiments:
Jove shield your husband from his hounds to day!
'Tis pity, they should take him for a stag.

Bas.
Believe me, Queen, your swarth Cimmerian
Doth make your honour of his body's hue,
Spotted, detested, and abominable.
Why are you sequestred from all your train?
Dismounted from your snow-white goodly steed,
And wandred hither to an obscure plot,
Accompanied with a barbarous Moor,
If foul desire had not conducted you?

Lav.
And, being intercepted in your sport,
Great reason, that my noble lord be rated
For sauciness.—I pray you, let us hence.
And let her joy her raven-colour'd love;
This valley fits the purpose passing well.

Bas.
The King my brother shall have note of this.

Lav.
Ay, for these slips have made him noted long.
Good King, to be so mightily abused.

Tam.
Why have I patience to endure all this? Enter Chiron and Demetrius.

Dem.
How now, dear Sovereign and our gracious Mother,
Why does your Highness look so pale and wan?

Tam.
Have I not reason, think you, to look pale?
These two have tic'd me hither to this place,
A barren and detested vale, you see, it is.
The trees, tho' summer, yet forlorn and lean,
O'ercome with moss, and baleful misselto.
Here never shines the sun; here nothing breeds,
Unless the nighty owl, or fatal raven.
And when they shew'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 strait 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 from henceforth call'd my children.

Dem.
This is a witness that I am thy son. [Stabs Bas.

Chi.
And this for me, struck home to shew my strength. [Stabbing him likewise.

Lav.
I, come, Semiramis;—nay, barbarous Tamora;(12) ^note
For no name fits thy nature but thy own.

Tam.
Give me thy poniard; you shall know, my boys,
Your mother's hand shall right your mother's wrong.

Dem.
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 Cope she braves your mightiness;(13) ^note
And shall she carry this unto her grave?

Chi.
And if she do, I would I were an Eunuch.
Drag hence her husband to some secret hole,
And make his dead trunk pillow to our lust.

Tam.
But when you have the honey you desire,
Let not this wasp out-live, us both to sting.

Chi.
I warrant, Madam, we will make that sure;
Come, mistress, now perforce we will enjoy
That nice-preserved honesty of yours.

Lav.
O Tamora, thou bear'st a woman's face—

Tam.
I will not hear her speak; away with her.

Lav.
Sweet lords, intreat her hear me but a word—

Dem.
Listen, fair Madam; let it be your glory
To see her tears; but be your heart to them,
As unrelenting flints to drops of rain.

Lav.
When did the tyger's young ones teach the dam?
O, do not teach 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;
Do thou intreat her, shew a woman pity.

Chi.
What! would'st thou have me prove my self a bastard?

Lav.
'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:
Oh be to me, tho' thy hard heart say, no,
Nothing so kind, but something pitiful.

Tam.
I know not what it means: away with her.

Lav.
Oh, 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.

Tam.
Hadst thou in person ne'er offended me,
Even for his sake am I now 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.

Lav.
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 dy'd.

Tam.
What begg'st thou then? fond woman, let me go.

Lav.
'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.

Tam.
So should I rob my sweet sons of their fee.
No; let them satisfie their lust on thee.

Dem.
Away. For thou hast staid us here too long.

Lav.
No grace? no woman-hood? ah beastly creature!
The blot and enemy of our general name!
Confusion fall—

Chi.
Nay, then I'll stop your mouth—bring thou her husband: [Dragging off Lavinia.
This is the hole, where Aaron bid us hide him. [Exeunt.

Tam.
Farewel, my sons; see, that you make her sure.

Ne'er let my heart know merry chear indeed,
'Till all th' Andronici be made away.
Now will I hence to seek my lovely Moor,
And let my spleenful sons this Trull deflour. [Exit. Enter Aaron, with Quintus and Marcus.

Aar.
Come on, my lords, the better foot before;
Strait will I bring you to the loathsom pit,
Where I espied the Panther fast asleep.

Quin.
My sight is very dull, whate'er it bodes.

Mar.
And mine, I promise you; wer't not for shame,
Well could I leave our sport to sleep a while. [Marcus falls into the pit.

Quin.
What, art thou fallen? what subtle hole is this,
Whose mouth is cover'd with rude-growing briars,
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?

Mar.
O brother, with the dismallest object
That ever eye, with sight, made heart lament.

Aar.
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 Aaron.

Mar.
Why dost not comfort me, and help me out
From this unhallow'd and blood-stained hole?

Quin.
I am surprized with an uncouth fear;
A chilling sweat o'er-runs my trembling joints;
My heart suspects, more than mine eye can see.

Mar.
To prove thou hast a true-divining heart,
Aaron and thou, look down into the den,
And see a fearful sight of blood and death.

Quin.
Aaron is gone; and my compassionate heart
Will not permit my eyes once to behold
The thing, whereat it trembles by surmise:
O, tell me how it is; for ne'er till now
Was I a child, to fear I know not what.

Mar.
Lord Bassianus lies embrewed here,
All on a heap, like to a slaughter'd lamb,

In this detested, dark, blood-drinking pit.

Quin.
If it be dark, how dost thou know 'tis he?

Mar.
Upon his bloody finger he doth wear
A precious ring, that lightens all the hole:
Which, like a taper in some monument,
Doth shine upon the dead man's earthy cheeks;
And shews 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.

Quin.
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.

Mar.
And I no strength to climb without thy help.

Quin.
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.

Sat.
Along, with me;—I'll see what hole is here,
And what he is, that now is leap'd into't.
Say, who art thou, that lately didst descend
Into this gaping hollow of the earth?

Mar.
Th' unhappy son of old Andronicus,
Brought hither in a most unlucky hour,
To find thy brother Bassianus dead.

Sat.
My brother dead? I know, thou dost but jest:
He and his lady both are at the Lodge,
Upon the north-side of this pleasant chase;
'Tis not an hour since I left him there.

Mar.
We know not where you left him all alive,
But out, alas! here have we found him dead. Enter Tamora with Attendants; Andronicus, and Lucius.

Tam.
Where is my lord the King?

Sat.
Here, Tamora; though griev'd with killing grief.

Tam.
Where is thy brother Bassianus?

Sat.
Now to the bottom dost thou search my wound;
Poor Bassianus here lies murthered.

Tam.
Then all too late I bring this fatal Writ,
The complot of this timeless tragedy;
And wonder greatly, that man's face can fold
In pleasing smiles such murderous tyranny. [She giveth Saturninus a letter.

Saturninus reads the letter.

And if we miss to meet him handsomly,
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 over-shades the mouth of that same pit,
Where we decreed to bury Bassianus.
Do this, and purchase us thy lasting friends.
Oh, 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 murther'd Bassianus here.

Aar.
My gracious lord, here is the bag of gold.

Sat.
Two of thy whelps, fell curs of bloody kind,
Have here bereft my brother of his life. [To Titus.
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.

Tam.
What, are they in this pit? oh wondrous thing!
How easily murder is discovered?

Tit.
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—)

Sat.
If it be prov'd? you see, it is apparent.
Who found this letter, Tamora, was it you?

Tam.
Andronicus himself did take it up.

Tit.
I did, my lord: yet let me be their bail.
For by my father's reverend tomb, I vow,
They shall be ready at your Highness' will,
To answer their suspicion with their lives.

Sat.
Thou shalt not bail them: see thou follow me:
Some bring the murder'd body, some the murtherers.
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.

Tam.
Andronicus, I will entreat the King;
Fear not thy sons, they shall do well enough.

Tit.
Come, Lucius, come, stay not to talk with them. [Exeunt severally. Enter Demetrius and Chiron, with Lavinia, ravish'd; her hands cut off, and her tongue cut out.

Dem.
So, now go tell (an if thy tongue can speak)
Who 'twas that cut thy tongue, and ravish'd thee.

Chi.
Write down thy mind, bewray thy meaning so;
And (if thy stumps will let thee) play the scribe.

Dem.
See, how with signs and tokens she can scrowle.

Chi.
Go home, call for sweet water, wash thy hands.

Dem.
She has no tongue to call, nor hands to wash;
And so let's leave her to her silent walks.

Chi.
If 'twere my case, I should go hang my self.

Dem.
If thou hadst hands to help thee knit the cord. [Exeunt Dem. and Chiron. Enter Marcus to Lavinia.

Mar.
Who's this, my Niece, that flies away so fast?
Cousin, a word; where is your husband?
If I do dream, would all my wealth would wake me!
If I do wake, some planet strike me down,
That I may slumber in eternal sleep!
Speak, gentle Niece, what stern ungentle hands
Have lopp'd, and hew'd, and made thy body bare

Of her two branches, those sweet ornaments,(14) ^note

He would not then have touch'd them for his life.
Or had he heard the heav'nly harmony,
Which that sweet tongue hath made;
He would have dropt 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:
Oh, could our mourning ease thy misery! [Exeunt.

Previous section