Before the PALACE. Enter Aaron alone.

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 threatning reach.
As when the golden sun salutes the morn,
And, having gilt the ocean with his beams,
Gallops the Zodiack in his glistring coach,
And over-looks the highest-peering hills;
So Tamora—
^{8 note}

This Syren, that will charm Rome's Saturnine,
And see his shipwreck, and his common-weal's.
Holla! what storm is this? SCENE II. Enter Chiron and Demetrius, braving.

Dem.
Chiron, thy years want wit, thy wit wants edge
And manners, to intrude where I am grac'd;
And may, for aught thou know'st, affected be.

Chi.
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 passion for Lavinia's love.

Aar.
Clubs, clubs!—These lovers will not keep the peace.

Dem.
Why, boy, although our mother, unadvis'd,
Gave you a dancing rapier by your side,
Are you so desp'rate grown to threat your friends?
Go to; have your lath glu'd within your sheath,
'Till you know better how to handle it.

Chi.
Mean while, Sir, with the little skill I have,
Full well shalt thou perceive how much I dare.

Dem.
Ay, boy, grow ye so brave? [They draw.

Aar.
Why, how now, Lords?
So near the Emperor's Palace dare you draw,
And maintain such a Quarrel openly?
Full well I wot the ground of all this grudge:
I would not for a million of gold,
The Cause were known to them it most concerns.
Nor would your noble mother, for much more,
Be so dishonour'd in the Court of Rome.
For shame, put up—

Chi.
^{9 note}Not I, 'till I have sheath'd
My rapier in his bosom, and withal
Thrust these reproachful speeches down his throat,
That he hath breath'd in my dishonour here.

Dem.
For that I am prepar'd and full resolv'd,—
Foul-spoken coward! thou thundrest with thy tongue,
And with thy weapon nothing dar'st perform.

Aar.
Away, I say.—
Now by the Gods, that warlike Goths adore,
This petty Brabble will undo us all;
Why, Lords—and think you not how dangerous
It is to jet upon a Prince's right?
What is Lavinia then become so loose,
Or Bassianus so degenerate,
That for her love such quarrels may be broacht,
Without controulment, justice, or revenge?
Young Lords, beware—and should the Empress know
This discord's ground, the musick would not please.

Chi.
I care not, I, knew she and all the world;
I love Lavinia more than all the world.

Dem.
Youngling, learn thou to make some meaner choice;
Lavinia is thy elder brother's hope.

Aar.
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.

Chi.
Aaron, a thousand deaths would I propose,
T' atchieve her whom I love.

Aar.
To atchieve her—how?

Dem.
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.
Tho' Bassianus be the Emperor's brother,
Better than he have yet worn Vulcan's badge.

Aar.
Ay, and as good as Saturninus may. [Aside.

Dem.
Then why should he despair, that knows to court it
With words, fair looks, and liberality?
What, hast thou not full often struck a doe,
And born her cleanly by the keeper's nose?

Aar.
Why then, it seems, some certain snatch or so
Would serve your turns.

Chi.
Ay, so the turn were served.

Dem.
Aaron, thou hast hit it.

Aar.
'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!

Chi.
'Faith, not me.

Dem.
Nor me, so I were one.

Aar.
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, atchieve,
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 ^{1 note}by kind for rape and villany;
Single you thither then this dainty doe,
And strike her home by force, if not by words:
This way, or not at all, stand you in hope.
Come, come, our Empress with her sacred wit
To villany and vengeance consecrate,
We will acquaint with all that we intend;
And she shall file our engines with advice,
That will not suffer you to square yourselves,
But to your wishes' height advance you both.
The Emperor's Court is like the House of Fame,
The Palace full of tongues, of eyes, of ears;
The woods are ruthless, dreadful, deaf and dull;
There speak, and strike, brave boys, and take your turns.
There serve your lusts, shadow'd from heaven's eye;
And revel in Lavinia's Treasury.

Chi.
Thy counsel, lad, smells of no cowardise.

Dem.
Sit fas aut nefas, 'till I find the stream
To cool this heat, a charm to calm these fits,
Per Styga, per Manes vebor.— [Exeunt.

2 ^noteSCENE III.

Changes to a Forest. Enter Titus Andronicus and his three Sons, with hounds and horns, and Marcus.

Tit.
The Hunt is up, ^{3 note}the morn is bright and gray,
The fields are fragrant, and the woods are green;
Uncouple here, and let us make a bay,
And wake the Emperor and his lovely Bride,
And rouze 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 tend 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.

Tit.
Many good morrows to your Majesty.
—Madam, to you as many and as good.
I promised your Grace a hunter's peal.

Sat.
And you have rung it lustily, my Lords,
Somewhat too early for new-married ladies.

Bas.
Lavinia, how say you?

Lav.
I say, no:
I have been broad awake two hours and more.

Sat.
Come on then, horse and chariots let us have,
And to our sport.—Madam, now ye shall see
Our Roman Hunting. [To Tamora.

Mar.
I have dogs, my Lord,
Will rouse the proudest Panther in the chase,
And climb the highest promontory-top.

Tit.
And I have horse will follow, where the game
Makes way, and run like swallows o'er the plain.

Dem.
Chiron, we hunt not, we, with horse nor hound,
But hope to pluck a dainty Doe to ground. [Exeunt. SCENE IV. Changes to a desart part of the Forest. Enter Aaron alone.

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,
^{4 note}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 heav'n 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. SCENE V. 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.
Saucy controller of our private steps:
Had I the power, that, some say, Dian had,
Thy Temples should be planted presently
With horns, as was Acteon's; and the hounds
Should drive upon thy new-transformed limbs,
Unmannerly Intruder as thou art!

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

Bas.
Believe me, Queen, your ^{5 note}swarth Cimmerian
Doth make your honour of his body's hue,
Spotted, detested, and abominable.
Why are you sequestered from all your train?
Dismounted from your snow-white goodly steed,
And 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 ^{6 note}noted long.
Good King, to be so mightily abus'd!

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 misseltoe.
Here never shines the sun; here nothing breeds,
Unless the nightly 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,
^{7 note}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 from henceforth call'd my children.

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

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

Lav.
I come, Semiramis;—nay, barbarous Tamora!
For no name fits thy nature but thy own.

Tam.
Give me thy poinard; 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,
^{8 note}

Chi.
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.

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. [To Chiron.

Chi.
What! wouldst thou have me prove myself a bastard?

Lav.
'Tis true the raven doth not hatch the lark:
Yet have I heard, Oh 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,
Ev'n 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, use her as you will;
The worse to her, the better lov'd of me.

Lav. [Laying hold on Tamora.]
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 satisfy 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. SCENE VI. Enter Aaron, with Quintus and Marcus.

Aar.
Come on, my Lords, the better foot before;
Strait will I bring you to the loathsome 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. [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 Aaron. SCENE VII.

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
^{3 note}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 lose again,
'Till thou art here aloft, or I below.
Thou canst not come to me, I come to thee. [Falls in. SCENE VIII. 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 murdered.

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 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 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 murder'd Bassianus here.

Aar.
My gracious Lord, here is the bag of gold. [Shewing it.

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 wond'rous 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 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.

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

Tit.
Come, Lucius, come, stay not to talk with them. [Exeunt severally. SCENE IX. 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 scrowl.

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

Dem.
She has no tongue to call, or hands to wash;
And so let's leave her to her silent walks.

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

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

SCENE X. Enter Marcus to Lavinia.

Mar.
Who's this, my Niece, that flies away so fast?
Cousin, a word; where is your husband?
^{4 note}If I do dream, 'would all my wealth would wake me!
If I do wake, some planet strike me down,
That I may slumber in eternal sleep!
Speak, gentle Niece, what stern ungentle hands
Have lopp'd, and hew'd, and made thy body bare
Of her two branches, those sweet ornaments,
Whose circling shadows Kings have sought to sleep in;
And might not gain so great a happiness,
As 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 rosy lips,
Coming and going with thy honey breath.
But, sure, some Tereus hath defloured 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 their issuing spouts,
Yet do thy cheeks look red as Titan's face,
Blushing to be encountred 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 stopt,
Doth burn the heart to cinders where it is.
Fair Philomela, she but lost her tongue,
And in a tedious sampler sew'd her mind.

But, lovely Niece, that Mean is cut from thee;
A craftier Tereus hast thou met withal,
And he hath cut those pretty fingers off,
That could have better sew'd than Philomel.
Oh, 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 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.

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