Introductory matter

1 ^note.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ 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. Lucius, son to Titus Andronicus. Quintus, son to Titus Andronicus. Martius, son to Titus Andronicus. Mutius, son to Titus Andronicus. Young Lucius, a boy, son to Lucius. Publius, son to Marcus Andronicus. Æmilius [Aemilius], a noble Roman. Alarbus, son to Tamora. Demetrius, son to Tamora. Chiron, son to Tamora. Aaron, a Moor, beloved by Tamora. A Captain [Captain], Tribune, Messenger, and Clown; Romans and Goths. Tamora, Queen of the Goths. Lavinia, daughter to Titus Andronicus. A Nurse, and a black Child. Kinsmen of Titus, Senators, Tribunes, Officers, Soldiers, and Attendants. [Messenger], [Boy], [Goth 1], [Goth 2], [Goth 3], [Roman] Scene: Rome, and the country near it.

THE TRAGEDY OF TITUS ANDRONICUS. ACT I. ^note Scene I. [Footnote: Rome. ^note Before the Capitol. ^note The Tomb of the Andronici appearing. ^note Flourish. ^note Enter the Tribunes and Senators aloft. ^note And then enter, below, Saturninus and his Followers from one side, and Bassianus and his Followers from the other side ^{note note}, with drum and colours ^note.

Sat.
Noble patricians, patrons of my right,
Defend the justice of my cause with arms;
And, countrymen, my ^note loving followers,
Plead my successive title with your swords:
I am his first-born son, that was the last
That ware ^note the imperial diadem of Rome;
Then let my father's honours live in me,
Nor wrong mine age with this indignity.

Bas.
Romans, friends ^note, followers, favourers of my right ^note,

If ever Bassianus, Cæsar'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, ^note
To justice, continence ^note and nobility:
But let desert in pure election shine;
And, Romans, fight for freedom in your choice. Enter Marcus Andronicus, aloft ^note, with the crown.

Marc.
Princes, that strive by factions and by friends ^note
Ambitiously for rule and empery,
Know that the people of Rome, for whom we stand
A special party, have by common voice,
In election ^note for the Roman ^note empery,
Chosen Andronicus, surnamed Pius ^note
For many good and great deserts to Rome:
A nobler man, a braver warrior,
Lives not this day within the city ^note walls:
He by the senate is accited home
From weary wars against the barbarous Goths;
That, with his sons, a terror to our foes,
Hath yoked a nation strong, 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 ^note
In coffins from the field.
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 ^note you would have now succeed ^note,
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.

Sat.
How fair the tribune speaks to calm my thoughts ^note!

Bas.
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 ^note thoughts are humbled all,
Gracious Lavinia, Rome's rich ornament,
That I will here dismiss my loving friends,
And to my fortunes ^note and the people's favour
Commit my cause in balance to be weigh'd. [Exeunt ^note the Followers of Bassianus.

Sat.
Friends ^note, that have been thus forward in my right ^note,
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 ^note. [Exeunt ^note the Followers of Saturninus.
Rome, be as just and gracious unto me
As I am confident and kind to thee.
Open the gates, ^note and let me in.

Bas.
Tribunes, and me, a poor competitor. [Flourish. ^note Saturninus ^note and Bassianus go up into the Capitol.

^noteEnter a Captain.

Cap.
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 ^note he circumscribed with his sword,
And brought to yoke, the enemies of Rome. Drums ^note and trumpets sounded. Enter Martius and Mutius; after them, two Men bearing a coffin covered with black; then Lucius and Quintus. After them, Titus Andronicus; and then Tamora Queen of Goths, with Alarbus ^note, Demetrius, Chiron, Aaron, and other Goths, prisoners; Soldiers and People following. The Bearers set down the coffin, and Titus speaks.

Tit.
Hail, Rome, victorious in thy ^note mourning ^note weeds ^note!
Lo, as the bark that hath discharged her ^note fraught ^note
Returns with precious lading to the bay
From whence at first she weigh'd her anchorage,
Cometh Andronicus, bound ^note 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 ^note 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 ^note 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 ^note. [They open the tomb.
There greet in silence, as the dead ^note are wont,
And sleep in peace, slain in your country's wars!
O sacred ^note receptacle of my joys,
Sweet cell of virtue and nobility,
How many sons hast thou of mine ^note in store,
That thou wilt never render to me more!

Luc.
Give us the proudest prisoner of the Goths,
That we may hew his limbs and on a pile
‘Ad manes ^note fratrum’ sacrifice his flesh,
Before this earthy ^note prison of their bones,
That so the ^note shadows be not unappeased ^note,
Nor we disturb'd with prodigies on earth.

Tit.
I give him you, the noblest that survives, ^note
The eldest son of this ^note distressed queen.

Tam.
Stay, Roman brethren ^note! Gracious conqueror,
Victorious Titus, rue ^note 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 ^note to be as dear to me!
Sufficeth not, that we are brought to Rome,
To beautify thy triumphs and return, ^note
Captive to thee and to thy Roman yoke;

But must my sons be slaughter'd ^note 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.

Tit.
Patient yourself, madam, and pardon me.
These are their ^note brethren, whom you Goths beheld ^note
Alive and dead; and for their brethren ^note slain
Religiously they ask a sacrifice:
To this your son is mark'd, and die he must,
To appease their groaning shadows that are gone ^note.

Luc.
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 consumed. [Exeunt ^note the sons of Andronicus with Alarbus.

Tam.
O cruel, irreligious piety!

Chi.
Was ever Scythia half so barbarous?

Dem.
Oppose not ^note Scythia to ambitious Rome.
Alarbus goes ^note to rest, and we survive
To tremble under Titus' ^note threatening look ^note.
Then, madam, stand resolved; 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 ^note tent,
May favour Tamora, the queen of Goths,
When Goths were Goths and Tamora was queen,
To quit the ^note bloody wrongs ^note upon her foes.

Re-enter the sons of Andronicus, ^note with their swords bloody ^note.

Luc.
See, lord and father, how we have perform'd
Our Roman rites ^note: Alarbus' ^note limbs are lopp'd,
And ^note entrails ^note 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.

Tit.
Let it be so; and let Andronicus
Make this his latest farewell to their souls. [Trumpets ^note sounded, and the coffin laid in the tomb. ^note
In peace and honour rest you here, my sons;
Rome's readiest champions, repose you here in rest ^note,
Secure from worldly chances and mishaps!
Here lurks no treason, here no envy swells,
Here grow no damned drugs ^note; here are ^note no storms,
No noise, but silence and eternal sleep: ^note
In peace and honour rest you here, my sons! ^noteEnter Lavinia ^note. ^note

Lav. ^note
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 ^note's obsequies;
And at thy feet I kneel, with tears of joy
Shed on the earth, for thy return to Rome:
O, bless me here with thy victorious hand,

Whose fortunes ^note Rome's best citizens applaud!

Tit.
Kind Rome, that hast thus lovingly reserved ^{note note}
The cordial of mine age to glad my ^note heart!
Lavinia, live; outlive thy father's days,
And ^note fame's eternal date, for virtue's praise! Enter ^note, below, Marcus Andronicus and Tribunes; re-enter Saturninus and Bassianus, attended.

Marc.
Long live Lord Titus, my beloved brother,
Gracious triumpher in the eyes of Rome!

Tit.
Thanks, gentle tribune, noble brother Marcus ^note.

Marc.
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 aspired 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 ^note trust,
This palliament of white and spotless hue;
And name thee in election for the empire,
With these our late-deceased ^note emperor's sons:
Be candidatus then, and put it on,
And help to set a head on headless Rome.

Tit.
A better head her glorious body fits
Than his that shakes for age and feebleness:
What should ^note I don this robe, and trouble you?
Be chosen ^note with proclamations ^note to-day,

To-morrow yield up rule, resign my life,
And set abroad ^note 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.

Marc.
Titus ^note, thou shalt obtain and ask ^note the empery ^note.

Sat.
Proud and ambitious tribune, canst thou tell?

Tit.
Patience, Prince Saturninus ^note.

Sat.
Romans, do me right;
Patricians, draw your swords, and sheathe them not
Till Saturninus be Rome's emperor.
Andronicus, would thou wert shipp'd to hell,
Rather than rob me of the people's hearts!

Luc.
Proud Saturnine, interrupter of the good
That noble-minded Titus means to thee!

Tit.
Content thee, prince; I will restore to thee
The people's hearts, and wean them from themselves.

Bas.
Andronicus, I do not flatter thee,
But honour thee, and will do till I die:
My faction if thou strengthen with thy friends, ^note
I will most thankful be; and thanks to men
Of noble minds is honourable meed.

Tit.
People of Rome, and people's ^note tribunes here,
I ask your voices and your suffrages:
Will you bestow them friendly on Andronicus?

Tribunes. ^note
To gratify the good Andronicus,
And gratulate his safe return to Rome,

The people will accept whom he admits.

Tit.
Tribunes, I thank you: and this suit ^note I make,
That you create your 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 ^note,
Crown him, and say ‘Long live our emperor!’

Marc. ^note
With voices and applause of every sort,
Patricians and plebeians ^note, we create
Lord Saturninus Rome's great emperor,
And say ‘Long live our Emperor Saturnine!’ [A long ^note flourish till they come down.

Sat.
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 ^note,
Rome's royal mistress, mistress of my heart,
And in the sacred Pantheon ^note her espouse:
Tell me, Andronicus, doth this motion please thee?

Tit.
It doth, my worthy lord; and in this match
I hold me highly honour'd ^note of your grace:
And here, in sight of Rome, to Saturnine ^note,
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 ^note lord:
Receive them then, the tribute that I owe,
Mine honour's ensigns humbled at thy ^note feet.

Sat.
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.

Tit. [To Tamora ^note]
Now, madam, are you ^note prisoner to an emperor;
To him that, for your honour ^note and your state,
Will use you nobly and your followers. ^{note note}

Sat.
A goodly lady, trust me; of the hue
That I would choose, were I to choose anew ^note.
Clear up, fair queen, that cloudy countenance:
Though chance of war hath wrought this change of cheer ^note,
Thou comest 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 ^note comforts you
Can make you ^note greater than the Queen of Goths.
Lavinia, you are not displeased with this? ^note

Lav.
Not I, my lord; sith true nobility
Warrants ^note these words in princely courtesy.

Sat.
Thanks, sweet Lavinia. Romans, let us go:
Ransomless here we set our prisoners free:
Proclaim our honours, lords, with trump ^note and drum. [Flourish. ^note Saturninus ^note courts Tamora in dumb show.

Bas. [Seizing Lavinia ^note]
Lord Titus, by your leave, this maid is mine.

Tit.
How, sir! are you in earnest then my lord?

Bas.
Ay, noble Titus, and resolved withal
To do myself this reason and this right.

Marc.
‘Suum cuique ^note’ is our Roman justice:
This prince in justice seizeth but his own.

Luc.
And that he will, and shall, if Lucius live.

Tit.
Traitors, avaunt! Where is the emperor's guard?
Treason, my lord! Lavinia is surprised!

Sat.
Surprised! by whom?

Bas.
By him that justly may
Bear his betroth'd from all the world away. [Exeunt ^note Bassianus and Marcus with Lavinia. ^note

Mut.
Brothers, help ^note to convey her hence away,
And with my sword I'll keep this door safe ^note. [Exeunt ^note Lucius, Quintus, and Martius.

Tit.
Follow, my lord, and I'll soon bring her back. ^note

Mut.
My lord, you pass not here.

Tit.
What, villain boy!
Barr'st me my way in Rome? ^note [Stabbing Mutius.

Mut.
Help, Lucius, help! [Dies. ^note [During the fray, Saturninus, Tamora, Demetrius, Chiron and Aaron go out, and re-enter above. ^note Re-enter Lucius. ^note

Luc.
My lord, you are unjust; and, more than so,
In wrongful quarrel you have slain your son.

Tit.
Nor thou, nor he, are any sons of mine;

My sons would never so dishonour me:
Traitor, restore Lavinia to the emperor.

Luc.
Dead, if you will; but not to be his wife,
That is another's lawful promised ^note love. [Exit. ^note

Sat.
No, Titus, no; the emperor needs her not,
Nor her ^note, 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. ^note
Was none in Rome to make a stale ^note
But Saturnine? Full well, Andronicus,
Agree these deeds with that proud brag of thine,
That saidst, I begg'd the empire at thy hands.

Tit.
O monstrous! what reproachful words are these?

Sat.
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.

Tit.
These words are razors to my wounded heart.

Sat.
And therefore, lovely Tamora, queen of Goths,
That, like the stately Phœbe ^note 'mongst ^note her nymphs,
Dost overshine the gallant'st dames of Rome,
If thou be pleased with this my sudden choice,
Behold, I choose thee, Tamora, for my bride,
And will create thee empress ^note of Rome.
Speak, Queen of Goths, dost thou applaud my choice?
And here I swear by all the Roman gods,
Sith priest and holy water are so near
And tapers burn so bright and every thing

In readiness for Hymenæus stand ^note,
I will not re-salute the streets of Rome,
Or climb my palace, till from forth this place
I lead espoused my bride along with me.

Tam.
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.

Sat.
Ascend, fair queen, Pantheon ^note. Lords, ^note accompany ^note
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 ^note all but Titus. ^note

Tit.
I am not bid to wait upon this bride.
Titus, when wert thou wont to walk alone,
Dishonour'd ^note thus and challenged of wrongs? Re-enter ^note Marcus, Lucius, Quintus, and Martius.

Marc.
O Titus, see, O, see what thou hast done!
In a bad quarrel slain a virtuous son.

Tit.
No, foolish tribune, no; no son of mine,
Nor thou, nor these, confederates in the deed
That hath dishonour'd ^note all our family;
Unworthy brother, and unworthy sons!

Luc.
But let us give him burial, as becomes;
Give Mutius burial with our brethren.

Tit.
Traitors, away! he rests not in this tomb:

This monument five hundred ^note 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.

Marc.
My lord, this is impiety in you:
My nephew Mutius' ^note deeds do plead for him;
He must be buried with his brethren.

Quin. Mart. ^note
And shall, or him we will accompany.

Tit.
And shall! what villain was it spake that word?

Quin. ^note
He that would vouch it ^note in any place but here.

Tit.
What, would you bury him in my despite?

Marc.
No, noble Titus; but entreat of thee
To pardon Mutius and to bury him.

Tit.
Marcus, even thou hast struck ^note 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.

Mart. ^note
He is not with ^note himself; let us withdraw ^note.

Quin. ^note
Not I, till Mutius' bones be buried. [Marcus ^note and the sons of Titus kneel.

Marc.
Brother, for in that name doth nature plead,—

Quin. ^note
Father, and in that name doth nature speak,—

Tit.
Speak thou no more, if all the rest will speed ^note.

Marc.
Renowned ^note Titus, more than half my soul,—

Luc.
Dear father, soul and substance of us all,—

Marc.
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 ^note did bury Ajax
That slew himself; and wise ^note Laertes' son
Did graciously plead for his funerals:
Let not young Mutius then, that was thy joy,
Be barr'd his entrance here.

Tit.
Rise, Marcus, rise:
The dismall'st day is this that e'er I saw,
To be dishonour'd ^note by my sons in Rome!
Well, bury him, and bury me the next. [Mutius ^note is put into the tomb.

Luc.
There lie thy bones, sweet Mutius, with thy friends,
Till we with trophies do adorn thy tomb.

All. [Kneeling ^note]
No man shed tears for noble Mutius; ^note
He lives in fame that died in virtue's cause. ^note

Marc.
My lord, to step out of these dreary ^note dumps,
How comes it that the subtle Queen of Goths
Is of a sudden thus advanced in Rome?

Tit.
I know not, Marcus; but I know it is,
Whether ^note by device ^note or no, the heavens can tell:
Is she not then beholding ^note to the man
That brought her for this high good turn so far?
Yes, and will nobly him remunerate. ^note

Flourish. ^note Re-enter ^note, from one side, Saturninus attended, Tamora, Demetrius, Chiron, and Aaron; from the other, Bassianus, Lavinia, with others. ^note

Sat.
So, Bassianus, you have play'd your prize ^note:
God give you joy, sir, of your gallant bride!

Bas.
And you of yours, my lord! I say no more,
Nor wish no less; and so I take my leave.

Sat.
Traitor, if Rome have law, or we have power,
Thou and thy faction shall repent this rape.

Bas.
Rape, call you it, my lord, to seize my own,
My true-betrothed ^note love, and now my wife?
But let the laws of Rome determine all;
Meanwhile I am possess'd of that is mine.

Sat.
'Tis good, sir: you are very short with us;
But, if we live, we'll be as sharp with you.

Bas.
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 ^note I owe to Rome,
This noble gentleman, Lord Titus here,
Is in opinion and in honour wrong'd;
That, in the rescue of Lavinia,
With his own hand did slay his youngest son,
In zeal to you and highly moved to wrath
To be controll'd in that he frankly gave:
Receive him then to favour, Saturnine,
That hath express'd himself in all his deeds
A father and a friend to thee and Rome.

Tit.
Prince Bassianus, leave to plead my deeds:
'Tis thou and those that have dishonour'd ^note me.
Rome and the righteous heavens be my judge,
How I have ^note loved and honour'd Saturnine!

Tam.
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.

Sat.
What, madam! be dishonour'd ^note openly,
And basely put it up without revenge? ^note

Tam.
Not so, my lord; the gods of Rome forfend ^note
I should be author to dishonour you!
But on mine honour dare I ^note undertake
For good Lord Titus' ^note 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 ^note to Sat.]
My lord, be ruled by me, be won at last;
Dissemble all your griefs and discontents:
You are but newly planted in your throne;
Lest then the people, and patricians too,
Upon a just survey, take Titus' part,
And so supplant you ^note for ingratitude ^note,
Which Rome reputes to be a heinous sin, ^note
Yield at entreats, and then let me alone:
I'll find a day to massacre them all,
And raze ^note 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.— ^note
Come, come, sweet emperor; come, Andronicus;
Take up this good old man, and cheer the heart
That dies in tempest of thy angry frown.

Sat. ^note
Rise, Titus, rise; my empress hath prevail'd.

Tit.
I thank your majesty, and her, my lord:
These words, these looks, infuse new life in me. ^note

Tam.
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 ^note honour, good my lord,
That I have reconciled your friends and you.
For you, Prince Bassianus, I have pass'd
My word and promise to the emperor,
That you will be more mild and tractable.
And fear not, lords, and you, Lavinia ^note;
By my advice ^note, all humbled ^note on your knees,
You shall ask pardon of his majesty. ^note

Luc. ^note
We do; ^note and vow to heaven, and to his highness,
That what we did was mildly as we might,
Tendering our sister's honour and our own.

Marc.
That, on mine honour, here I do protest.

Sat. ^note
Away, and talk not; trouble us no more.

Tam.
Nay, nay, ^note sweet emperor, we must all be friends:
The tribune and his nephews kneel for grace;
I will not be denied: sweet heart, look back.

Sat. ^note
Marcus, ^note 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. ^note
Lavinia, though you left me like a churl,
I found a friend; and sure as death I swore ^note

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.

Tit.
To-morrow, an ^note it please your majesty
To hunt the panther and the hart ^note with me,
With horn and hound we'll give your grace bonjour. ^note

Sat.
Be it so, Titus, and gramercy too. [Flourish. Exeunt. ^note ACT II. ^note Scene I. [Footnote: Rome. ^note Before the palace ^note. Enter Aaron. ^note

Aar.
Now climbeth Tamora Olympus' top,
Safe out of fortune's shot, and sits aloft,
Secure of thunder's crack or lightning flash,
Advanced above ^note pale envy's threatening reach.
As when the golden sun salutes the morn,
And, having gilt the ocean with his beams,
Gallops the zodiac in his glistering coach,
And overlooks the highest-peering ^note hills;
So Tamora ^note:
Upon her wit ^note doth earthly ^note honour wait,
And virtue stoops and trembles at her frown.
Then, Aaron, arm thy heart ^note, and fit thy thoughts,

To mount aloft ^note with thy imperial mistress,
And mount her pitch, whom thou in triumph long
Hast prisoner held, fetter'd in amorous chains,
And faster bound to Aaron's charming eyes
Than is ^note Prometheus tied to Caucasus.
Away with slavish weeds and servile ^note thoughts!
I will be bright, and shine in pearl and gold,
To wait upon this new-made empress ^note.
To wait ^note, said I? to wanton with this queen,
This goddess, this Semiramis ^note, this nymph ^note,
This siren, that will charm Rome's Saturnine,
And see his shipwreck and his commonweal's.
Holloa ^note! what storm is this? Enter Demetrius and Chiron, braving ^note. ^note

Dem.
Chiron, thy years want ^note wit, thy wit wants edge,
And manners, to intrude where I am graced,
And may, for aught thou know'st ^note, 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 ^note 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 ^note for Lavinia's love.

Aar. ^note [Aside ^note]
Clubs, clubs! these lovers will not keep the peace.

Dem.
Why, boy, although our mother, unadvised,
Gave you a dancing-rapier ^note by your side,
Are you so desperate grown, to threat your friends? ^note
Go to; have your lath glued within your sheath
Till you know better how to handle it.

Chi.
Meanwhile, 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. [Coming forward ^note]
Why, how now ^note, 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: ^note
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 ^note in the court of Rome.
For shame, put up.

Dem. ^note
Not I, till I have sheathed
My rapier in his bosom, and withal
Thrust those ^note reproachful speeches down his throat
That he hath breathed in my dishonour here.

Chi. ^note
For that I am prepared and full resolved.
Foul-spoken coward! that ^note thunder'st with thy tongue ^note
And with thy weapon nothing darest ^note perform.

Aar. ^note
Away, I say! ^note
Now, by the gods that warlike Goths adore,
This petty ^note brabble will undo us all.
Why, lords, ^note and think you not how dangerous

It is to jet ^note 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? ^note
Young lords, beware! an ^note should the empress know
This discord's ^note ground, the music 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 ^note choice ^note:
Lavinia is thine elder brother's hope.

Aar. ^note
Why, are ^note ye mad? or know ye not, in Rome ^note
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 ^note.

Chi.
Aaron, a thousand deaths
Would I propose ^note to achieve her whom I love ^note. ^note

Aar.
To achieve her! how?

Dem.
Why makest ^note thou it so strange?
She is a woman, therefore may be woo'd;
She is a woman, therefore may be won;
She is Lavinia, therefore must be loved.
What, man! more water glideth by the mill
Than wots the miller of; and easy it is
Of a cut loaf to steal a shive, we know:
Though Bassianus be the emperor's brother,
Better than he have ^note worn Vulcan's ^note badge.

Aar. ^note [Aside ^note]
Ay, and as good as Saturninus ^note may.

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

Aar. ^note
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. ^note
Would you had hit it too!
Then should not we be tired with this ado.
Why, hark ye, hark ye! and are you such fools
To square for this? ^note would it offend you, then ^note,
That both should speed ^note? ^note

Chi.
Faith ^note, not me.

Dem.
Nor me, so I were one ^note.

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 achieve,
You must perforce accomplish as you may.
Take this of me: Lucrece was not more chaste
Than this Lavinia, Bassianus' ^note love.
A speedier course than ^note lingering languishment
Must we ^note pursue, and I have found the path.
My lords, a solemn hunting is in hand;
There will the lovely Roman ladies troop:
The forest walks are wide and spacious;
And many unfrequented plots there are
Fitted by kind for rape and villany:

Single you thither then this dainty doe,
And strike her home by force, if not by words:
This way, or not at all, stand you in hope.
Come, come, our empress, with her sacred ^note wit
To villany and vengeance consecrate,
Will we ^note acquaint with all that we intend;
And she shall file our engines with advice ^note,
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 ^note ears:
The woods are ruthless, dreadful ^note, deaf and dull ^note;
There speak, and strike, brave boys, and take your turns;
There serve your lust ^note, shadow'd ^note from heaven's eye,
And revel in Lavinia's treasury.

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

Dem.
Sit ^note fas aut nefas, till I find the stream ^note
To cool this heat, a charm to calm these ^note fits,
Per Styga ^note, per manes vehor. [Exeunt.

^note Scene II. [Footnote: A forest near Rome. ^note Horns and cry of hounds heard. ^note Enter ^note Titus Andronicus, with Hunters, &c., Marcus, Lucius, Quintus, and Martius.

Tit.
The hunt is up, the morn ^note is bright and grey ^note,
The fields are fragrant, and the woods are green ^note:
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 ^note,
That all the court may echo with the noise ^note.
Sons, let it be your charge, as it is ours ^note,
To attend ^note the emperor's person carefully.
I have been troubled in my sleep this night,
But dawning day new comfort hath inspired ^note. A cry of hounds, and horns winded in a peal. Enter ^note Saturninus, Tamora, Bassianus, Lavinia, Demetrius, Chiron, 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.

Sat.
And you have rung it lustily, my lords ^note;

Somewhat too early for new-married ladies.

Bas.
Lavinia, how say you?

Lav.
I say ^note, no;
I have been broad ^note awake two hours and more ^note.

Sat.
Come on then; horse and chariots let us have,
And to our sport. [To Tamora ^note] Madam, now shall ye see
Our Roman hunting.

Marc.
I have dogs, my lord,
Will rouse the proudest panther in the chase,
And climb the highest promontory ^note top.

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

Dem.
Chiron, we hunt not, we, with horse nor hound,
But hope to pluck a dainty doe to ground. [Exeunt. ^note Scene III. [Footnote: A lonely part of the forest. ^note Enter Aaron ^note, with a bag of gold.

Aar. ^note
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 ^note, will beget
A very excellent piece of villany:
And so repose, sweet gold, for their unrest [Hides the gold. ^note
That have their alms out of the empress' chest.

Enter Tamora. ^note

Tam.
My lovely Aaron, wherefore look'st thou sad ^{note note},
When every thing doth make a gleeful boast?
The birds chant melody on every bush;
The snake lies rolled ^note in the cheerful sun;
The green leaves quiver with the cooling wind,
And make a chequer'd shadow on the ground:
Under their sweet shade, Aaron, let us sit,
And, whilst the babbling echo mocks the hounds,
Replying shrilly to the well-tuned horns,
As if ^note a double hunt were heard at once,
Let us sit down and mark their yellowing ^note noise;
And, after conflict such as was supposed
The wandering prince and Dido ^note once enjoy'd,
When with a happy storm they were surprised,
And curtain'd with a counsel-keeping cave,
We may, each wreathed in the other's arms,
Our pastimes done, possess a golden slumber;
Whiles ^note 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 ^note,
Saturn is dominator over mine:
What signifies my deadly-standing ^note 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? ^note
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 ^note her tongue to-day,
Thy sons make pillage of her chastity,
And wash their hands in Bassianus' blood.
Seest thou this letter? ^note take it up, I pray thee,
And give the king this fatal-plotted ^note scroll.
Now question me no more; we are espied;
Here comes a parcel of our hopeful booty,
Which dreads ^note not yet their lives' destruction.

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

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

Bas.
Who ^note have we here? Rome's royal empress ^{note note},
Unfurnish'd of her ^note well-beseeming troop ^note?
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 my ^note private steps!
Had I the power that some say Dian had,
Thy temples should be planted presently ^note
With horns, as was ^note Actæon's, and the hounds

Should drive ^note upon thy ^note new-transformed limbs,
Unmannerly intruder as thou art!

Lav.
Under your patience, gentle empress ^note,
'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 ^note Cimmerian ^note
Doth make your honour of his body's hue,
Spotted, detested, and abominable.
Why are you sequester'd from all your train,
Dismounted from your snow-white goodly steed,
And wander'd hither to an obscure plot,
Accompanied but with a ^note barbarous Moor,
If foul desire had not conducted you?

Lav.
And, being intercepted ^note 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 ^note love;
This valley fits the purpose passing well.

Bas.
The king my brother shall have note ^note of this.

Lav.
Ay, for these slips have made him ^note noted long:
Good king, to be so mightily abused!

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

Dem.
How now, dear sovereign, and our gracious mother ^note!
Why doth ^note your highness look so pale and wan?

Tam.
Have I not reason, think you, to look pale?
These two have ticed me hither to this place:
A barren detested ^note vale, you see it is;
The trees, though summer, yet forlorn and lean,
O'ercome with moss and baleful ^note 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 ^note 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 ^note,
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 ^note 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 ^note call'd my children.

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

Chi.
And this for me, struck ^note home to show my strength ^note. [Also stabs ^note Bassianus, who dies.

Lav.
Ay, come ^note, Semiramis ^note, nay, barbarous Tamora,
For no name fits thy nature but thy own!

Tam.
Give me the ^note 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 hope ^note braves your mightiness ^note:
And shall she carry this ^note unto her grave? ^note

Chi.
An ^note if she do, I would I were an eunuch ^{note note}.
Drag hence her husband to some secret hole,
And make his dead trunk pillow ^note to our lust.

Tam.
But when ye have the honey ye ^note desire,
Let not this wasp outlive, us ^note both to sting.

Chi.
I warrant you ^note, madam, we will make that sure.
Come, mistress, now perforce we will enjoy
That nice-preserved ^note honesty of yours.

Lav.
O Tamora! thou bear'st ^note a woman's ^note face— ^note

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

Lav.
Sweet lords, entreat 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 flint ^note to drops of rain.

Lav.
When did the tiger's young ones teach the dam? ^note
O, do not learn ^note her wrath; she taught it thee;
The milk thou suck'dst ^note from her did turn to marble;
Even at thy teat ^note thou hadst thy tyranny.
Yet every mother breeds not sons alike: [To Chiron ^note]
Do thou entreat her show a woman pity. ^note

Chi.
What, wouldst thou have me prove myself a bastard? ^note

Lav.
'Tis true; the raven doth not hatch a lark:
Yet have I heard,—O, could I find it now!—
The lion, moved with pity, did endure
To have his princely paws ^note pared all away:
Some say that ravens foster forlorn children,
The whilst their own birds famish in their nests:
O, be to me, though thy hard heart say no,
Nothing so kind, but something pitiful!

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

Lav.
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 ^note.

Tam.
Hadst thou in person ne'er offended me,
Even for his sake am I ^note 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 ^note, and ^note use her as you will;
The worse to her, the better loved of me. ^note

Lav.
O Tamora, be call'd a gentle queen ^note,
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 ^note died.

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

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. ^note

Dem.
Away! for thou hast stay'd us here too long. ^note

Lav.
No grace? no womanhood? Ah, beastly creature!
The blot and enemy to ^note our general name!
Confusion fall— ^{note note}

Chi.
Nay, then I'll stop your mouth. Bring thou her husband: ^note
This is the hole where Aaron bid us hide him. [Demetrius ^note throws the body of Bassianus into the pit; then exeunt Demetrius and Chiron, dragging off Lavinia.

Tam.
Farewell, my sons: see that you make her sure.
Ne'er let my heart know merry cheer indeed,
Till all the Andronici ^note be made away.
Now will I hence to seek my lovely Moor,
And let my spleenful sons this trull deflower. [Exit. Re-enter ^note Aaron, with Quintus and Martius. ^{note note}

Aar. ^note
Come on, my lords, the better foot before:

Straight will I bring you to the loathsome ^note pit
Where I espied the panther fast asleep.

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

Mart.
And mine, I promise you; were it ^note not for shame,
Well could I leave our sport to sleep awhile. [Falls ^note into the pit.

Quin.
What, art thou fall'n? What subtle hole is this, ^note
Whose mouth is cover'd ^note with rude-growing ^note briers,
Upon whose leaves are drops of new-shed blood
As fresh as morning ^note dew distill'd on flowers?
A very fatal place it seems to me.
Speak, brother, hast thou hurt thee with the fall?

Mart. ^note
O brother, with the dismal'st ^note object ^note hurt ^note
That ever eye with sight made heart lament!

Aar. [Aside ^note]
Now will I fetch the king to find them here,
That he thereby may have ^note a likely guess
How these were they that made away his brother. [Exit. ^{note note}

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

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

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

Quin.
Aaron is gone; and my compassionate heart ^note
Will not permit mine eyes once to behold

The thing whereat it trembles by surmise:
O, tell me how ^note it is; for ne'er till now
Was I a child to fear I know not what.

Mart.
Lord Bassianus lies embrewed here,
All on a heap, like to a ^note slaughter'd lamb,
In this detested, dark, blood-drinking pit.

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

Mart.
Upon his bloody finger he doth wear
A precious ring, that lightens all the ^note hole,
Which, like a taper in some monument,
Doth shine upon the dead man's earthy ^note cheeks,
And shows the ragged entrails of the ^note pit:
So pale did shine the moon on Pyramus
When he by night lay bathed in maiden blood.
O brother, help me with thy fainting hand—
If fear hath made thee ^note faint, as me it hath—
Out of this fell devouring ^note receptacle,
As hateful as Cocytus' ^note 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.

Mart.
Nor ^note I no strength to climb without thy help.

Quin.
Thy hand once more; I ^note will not loose ^note again,
Till thou art here aloft, or I below:
Thou canst not come to me: I come to thee. [Falls in. ^note Enter ^note Saturninus with Aaron. ^note

Sat.
Along with me: I'll see what hole is here,

And what he is that now is leap'd into it ^note.
Say, who art thou that lately didst descend
Into this gaping hollow of the earth? ^note

Mart.
The 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 them ^note there.

Mart.
We know not where you left them ^note all alive;
But, out, alas! here have we found him dead. Re-enter ^note Tamora, with Attendants; ^note Titus Andronicus, ^note and Lucius.

Tam.
Where is my lord the king?

Sat. ^note
Here, Tamora; though grieved ^note 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. [Giving a letter ^note]
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.

Sat. [Reads ^note]
‘An ^note 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 ^note

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 ^note 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 ^note Bassianus here. ^note

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

Sat. [To Titus ^note]
Two of thy whelps, fell curs of bloody kind,
Have here bereft my brother of his life.
Sirs, drag them from the pit unto the prison:
There let them bide until we have devised
Some never-heard-of torturing ^note pain for them.

Tam.
What, are they in this pit? O wondrous thing! ^note
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 ^note be proved in them— ^note

Sat.
If it be proved! 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; ^note
For, by my fathers' ^note reverend ^note tomb, I vow
They shall be ready at your highness' will
To answer their suspicion ^note with their lives.

Sat.
Thou shalt not bail them: see thou follow me.
Some bring the murder'd ^note body, some the murderers:
Let them not speak a word; the ^note guilt is plain;
For, by my soul, were there worse end than death, ^note
That end upon them should be executed.

Tam.
Andronicus, I will entreat the king: ^note
Fear not thy sons; they shall do well enough.

Tit.
Come, Lucius, come; stay not to talk with them. ^note [Exeunt. ^{note note} Scene IV. [Footnote: Another ^note part of the forest. Enter ^note Demetrius and Chiron, with Lavinia, ravished; her hands cut off, and her tongue cut out.

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

Chi.
Write down thy mind, bewray thy meaning so,
An if thy stumps will let thee play ^note the scribe.

Dem.
See, how with signs and tokens she can scrowl ^note.

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

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

Chi.
An ^note 'twere my case ^note, I should go hang myself.

Dem.
If thou hadst hands to help thee knit the cord. [Exeunt ^note Demetrius and Chiron. Horns winded within. ^note Enter Marcus, from hunting. ^note

Mar.
Who is ^note this? my niece, that flies away so fast! ^note
Cousin, a word ^note; where is your husband? ^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 ^note lopp'd and hew'd and made thy body bare
Of her two branches, those sweet ornaments,
Whose circling shadows kings have sought to sleep in,
And might not gain so great a happiness
As have ^note 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 ^note lips,
Coming and going with thy honey breath.
But, sure, some Tereus hath deflowered thee,
And, lest thou shouldst detect him ^note, 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 ^note issuing spouts,
Yet do thy cheeks look red as Titan's face
Blushing to be encounter'd with a cloud.
Shall I speak for thee? shall I say 'tis so? ^note

O, that I knew thy heart ^note; 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 ^note but lost her tongue,
And in a tedious sampler sew'd ^note her mind:
But, lovely niece, that mean is cut from thee;
A craftier Tereus, cousin, hast thou met, ^note
And he hath cut those pretty fingers off,
That could have better sew'd ^note 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 ^note,
He would have dropp'd his knife, and fell ^note 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 ^note ease thy misery! [Exeunt.

ACT III. ^note Scene I. [Footnote: Rome. A street. ^note Enter ^note Judges, Senators, and Tribunes, with Martius and Quintus, bound, passing on to the place of execution; Titus going before, pleading.

Tit.
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 ^note see
Filling the aged wrinkles in my cheeks;
Be pitiful to my condemned sons,
Whose souls are ^note not corrupted as 'tis thought.
For two and twenty sons I never wept,
Because they died in honour's lofty bed. [Lieth down; ^note the Judges, &c. pass by him, and Exeunt.
For these, tribunes ^note, in the dust I write
My heart's deep languor and ^note my soul's sad tears:
Let my tears stanch ^note the earth's dry appetite;
My sons' sweet blood will make it shame and blush.

^note
O earth, I will befriend ^note thee more with ^note rain,
That shall distil from these two ancient urns ^note,
Than youthful April shall with all his ^note showers:
In summer's drought ^note 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 ^note drawn.
O reverend ^note tribunes! O gentle ^note, aged men ^note!
Unbind my sons, reverse the doom of death;
And let me say, that never wept before,
My tears are now prevailing orators.

Luc.
O noble father, you lament in vain:
The tribunes hear you not ^note; no man is by;
And you recount your sorrows to a stone.

Tit.
Ah, Lucius, for thy brothers let me plead.
Grave tribunes, once more I entreat of you,— ^note

Luc.
My gracious lord, no tribune hears you speak.

Tit.
Why, 'tis no matter, man: ^note if they did hear,
They would not mark me; or if they did mark,
They would not pity me; yet plead I must,
And bootless unto them......... ^note

Therefore I tell my sorrows to ^note the stones;
Who, though they cannot answer my distress,
Yet in some sort they are ^note better than the tribunes, ^note
For that they will not intercept my tale:
When I do weep, they humbly at my feet
Receive my tears, and seem to weep with me;
And, were they but attired in grave weeds,
Rome could afford no tribune like to these.
A stone is ^note soft as ^note wax, tribunes more hard than stones ^note;
A stone is silent and offendeth not,
And tribunes with their tongues doom men to death. [Rises. ^note
But wherefore stand'st ^note thou with thy weapon drawn?

Luc.
To rescue my two brothers from their death:
For which attempt the judges have pronounced ^note
My everlasting doom of banishment.

Tit.
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 ^note, and Rome affords no prey ^note
But me and mine: how happy art thou then,
From these devourers to be banished!
But who comes with our brother Marcus here? ^noteEnter Marcus and Lavinia.

Marc.
Titus, prepare thy aged ^note eyes to weep;
Or, if not so, thy noble heart to break:
I bring consuming sorrow to thine age.

Tit.
Will it consume me? let me see it then.

Marc.
This was thy daughter.

Tit.
Why, Marcus, so she is.

Luc.
Ay ^note me, this object kills me!

Tit.
Faint-hearted boy, arise, and look upon her.
Speak, Lavinia ^note, what accursed hand
Hath made thee handless in thy father's sight ^note?
What fool hath added water to the sea,
Or brought a faggot to bright-burning Troy?
My grief was at the height ^note before thou camest;
And now, like Nilus, it disdaineth bounds.
Give me a sword, I'll ^note chop off my hands too;
For they have fought for Rome, and all in vain;
And they have nursed this woe, in feeding life ^note;
In bootless prayer have they been held up,
And they have served me to effectless use:
Now all the service I require of them
Is, that the one will help to cut the other.
'Tis well, Lavinia, that thou hast no hands;
For hands to do Rome service is ^note but vain.

Luc.
Speak, gentle sister, who hath martyr'd thee?

Marc.
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 ^note notes, enchanting every ear ^note!

Luc.
O, say thou for her, who hath done this deed? ^note

Marc.
O, thus I found her, straying in the park,
Seeking to hide herself, as doth the deer
That hath received some unrecuring wound.

Tit.
It was my dear ^note; and he that wounded her ^note
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 ^note the waxing tide grow wave by wave ^note,
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 ^note body so?
Thou hast no hands, to wipe away thy tears;
Nor tongue, to tell me who hath martyr'd thee:
Thy husband he is dead; and for his death
Thy brothers are condemn'd, and dead by this.
Look, Marcus! ah, son Lucius, look on her!
When I did name her brothers, then fresh tears
Stood on her cheeks, as doth the honey-dew
Upon a gather'd ^note lily almost wither'd ^note.

Marc.
Perchance she weeps because they kill'd her husband;
Perchance because she knows them ^note innocent.

Tit.
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 ^note how I may do thee ease:
Shall thy good uncle, and thy brother Lucius,
And thou, and I, sit round about some fountain,
Looking all downwards, to behold our cheeks

How they are stain'd, as ^note 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 ^note of further misery ^note,
To make us wonder'd at in time to come.

Luc.
Sweet father, cease your tears; for, at your grief,
See how my wretched sister sobs and weeps.

Marc.
Patience, dear niece. Good Titus, dry thine eyes.

Tit.
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.

Luc.
Ah, my Lavinia, I will wipe thy cheeks.

Tit.
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 ^note 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 ^note. ^note

Aar. ^note
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.

Tit.
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 ^{note note}:
Good Aaron, wilt thou help to chop it off?

Luc.
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.

Marc.
Which of your hands hath not defended Rome,
And rear'd aloft the bloody battle-axe,
Writing destruction on the enemy's ^note castle ^note?
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.

Aar. ^note
Nay, come, agree whose hand shall go along,
For fear they die before their pardon come.

Marc.
My hand shall go.

Luc.
By heaven, it shall not go!

Tit.
Sirs, strive no more: such wither'd ^note herbs as these
Are meet for plucking up, and therefore mine.

Luc.
Sweet father, if I shall be thought thy son,
Let me redeem my brothers both from death.

Marc.
And, for our father's sake and mother's care,
Now let me show a brother's love to thee.

Tit.
Agree between you; I will spare my hand.

Luc.
Then I'll go fetch an axe.

Marc.
But I will use the axe ^note. [Exeunt Lucius and Marcus. ^note

Tit.
Come hither, Aaron; I'll deceive them both:
Lend me thy hand, and I will give thee mine.

Aar. ^note [Aside ^note]
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 ^note. [Cuts off ^note Titus's hand. Re-enter ^note Lucius and Marcus.

Tit.
Now stay your ^note strife: what shall be is dispatch'd.
Good Aaron, give his majesty my ^note hand:
Tell him it was a hand that warded him
From thousand dangers; bid him bury it;
More hath it merited; ^note that let it have.
As for ^note my sons, say I account of them
As jewels purchased at an easy price;
And yet dear too, because I bought mine own.

Aar.
I go, Andronicus: and for thy hand
Look by and by to have thy sons with thee. [Aside ^note]
Their heads, I mean. O, how this villany
Doth fat ^note me with the very thoughts ^note of it!
Let fools do good, and fair men call for grace,
Aaron will have his soul black like his face. [Exit. ^note

Tit.
O, here ^note I lift this one hand up to heaven,

And bow this feeble ruin to the earth:
If any power pities wretched ^note tears,
To that I call! [To Lav ^note.] What, would ^note 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.

Marc.
O brother, speak with possibilities ^note,
And do not break into these deep extremes ^note.

Tit.
Is not my sorrow ^note deep, having no bottom?
Then be my passions bottomless with them.

Marc.
But yet let reason govern thy lament.

Tit.
If there were reason for these miseries,
Then into limits could I bind my woes:
When heaven doth weep, doth not the earth o'erflow?
If the winds rage, doth not the sea wax mad,
Threatening the welkin with his big-swoln face?
And wilt thou have a reason for this coil?
I am the sea; hark, how her sighs do blow ^note!
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 ^note:
For why ^note 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.

Mess.
Worthy Andronicus, ill art thou repaid

For that good hand thou sent'st the emperor.
Here are the heads of thy two noble sons;
And here's thy hand, in scorn to thee sent back,
Thy griefs their sports ^note, thy resolution mock'd:
That woe is me to think upon thy woes,
More than remembrance of my father's death. [Exit.

Marc.
Now let hot Ætna cool in Sicily ^note,
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.

Luc.
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 ^note! [Lavinia ^note kisses Titus.

Marc.
Alas, poor heart, that kiss is comfortless
As frozen water to a starved snake.

Tit.
When will this fearful slumber have an end?

Marc.
Now, farewell, flattery ^note: die, Andronicus;
Thou dost not slumber: see, thy two sons' heads,
Thy warlike hand ^note, thy mangled daughter here,
Thy other banish'd son ^note with this dear ^note 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 ^note griefs:
Rend off ^note thy silver hair, thy other hand
Gnawing ^note with thy teeth; and be this dismal sight
The closing up of our ^note most wretched eyes:
Now is a time to storm; why art thou still?

Tit.
Ha, ha, ha!

Marc.
Why dost thou laugh? it fits not with this hour.

Tit.
Why, I have not another tear to shed:
Besides, this sorrow is an enemy,
And would usurp upon my watery eyes
And make them blind with tributary tears:
Then which way shall I find Revenge's cave? ^note
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.
Lavinia ^note, thou shalt be employ'd ^note in these things ^note;
Bear thou my hand, ^note sweet wench, between thy teeth ^note.
As for thee, boy, go get thee from my sight;
Thou art an exile, and thou must not stay:
Hie to the Goths, and raise an army there:
And, if you love me, as I think you do ^note,
Let's kiss and part, for we have much to do. [Exeunt ^note all but Lucius. ^note

Luc.
Farewell, Andronicus, my noble father,
The wofull'st man that ever lived in Rome:
Farewell, proud Rome; till ^note Lucius come again,
He leaves ^note 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 ^note your wrongs;
And make proud Saturnine ^note and his empress
Beg at the gates, like ^note Tarquin and his queen.
Now will I to the Goths and raise a power,
To be revenged on Rome and Saturnine. [Exit. ^{note note} Scene II. [Footnote: A room ^note in Titus's house. A banquet ^note set out. Enter ^note Titus, Marcus, Lavinia, and young Lucius, a Boy.

Tit.
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 ^note I, poor creatures, want our hands,
And cannot passionate our tenfold grief
With folded arms. This poor right hand of mine
Is left to tyrannize upon my breast;
Who ^note, when my heart, all mad with misery,
Beats in this hollow prison of my flesh,
Then thus I thump it down. [To Lavinia ^note]
Thou map of woe, that thus dost talk in signs!
When thy poor heart beats with outrageous ^note beating,
Thou canst not strike it thus to make it still. ^note

Wound it with sighing ^note, 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 ^note in sea-salt ^note tears.

Marc.
Fie, brother, fie! teach her not thus to lay
Such violent hands upon her tender life.

Tit.
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 Æneas tell the tale twice o'er,
How Troy was burnt and he made miserable?
O, handle not the theme, to talk ^note 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! ^note
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 ^note with her sorrow ^note, mesh'd upon her cheeks:
Speechless complainer, I ^note will learn thy thought;
In thy dumb action will I be as perfect
As begging hermits ^note 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 ^note 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.

Marc.
Alas, the tender boy, in passion moved,
Doth weep to see his grandsire's heaviness.

Tit.
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 ^note knife?

Marc.
At that that I have kill'd, my lord,—a fly ^note.

Tit.
Out on thee, ^note murderer! thou kill'st my heart;
Mine eyes are ^note 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.

Marc.
Alas, my lord, I have but kill'd a fly.

Tit.
‘But!’ How, if ^note that fly had a father and mother? ^note
How would he hang his slender gilded wings,
And buzz lamenting doings ^{note note} in the air!
Poor harmless fly,
That, with his pretty buzzing melody,
Came here to make us merry! and thou hast kill'd him. ^note

Marc.
Pardon me, sir; it was ^note a black ill-favour'd fly, ^note
Like to the empress' Moor; therefore I kill'd him.

Tit.
O, O, O, ^note
Then pardon me for reprehending thee,
For thou hast done a charitable deed.
Give me thy knife, I will insult on him;
Flattering myself ^note, as if it were the Moor

Come hither purposely to poison me.
There's for thyself, and that's for Tamora.
Ah, sirrah! ^note
Yet, I think ^note, we are not brought so low,
But that between us we can kill a fly
That comes in likeness of a coal-black Moor ^note.

Marc.
Alas, poor man! grief has so wrought on him,
He takes false shadows for true substances.

Tit.
Come, take away. ^note 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 ^note to dazzle. [Exeunt. ACT IV. ^note Scene I. [Footnote: Rome. Titus's garden. ^note Enter young Lucius ^note and Lavinia running after him, and the boy flies from her, with his books under his arm. Then enter ^note Titus and Marcus.

Boy. ^note
Help, grandsire, help! my aunt Lavinia
Follows me every where, I know not why:
Good uncle Marcus, see how swift she comes.
Alas, sweet aunt, I know not what you mean.

Marc.
Stand by me, Lucius; do not fear thine ^note aunt.

Tit.
She loves thee, boy, too well to do thee harm.

Boy.
Ay, when my father was in Rome she did.

Marc.
What means my niece Lavinia by these signs?

Tit.
Fear her not ^note, Lucius: somewhat doth she mean:
See ^note, Lucius, see how much she makes of thee:
Somewhither ^note would she have thee go with her.
Ah, ^note boy, Cornelia never with more care
Read to her sons than she hath read ^note to thee
Sweet poetry and Tully's Orator ^note.

Marc. ^note
Canst thou not guess wherefore she plies thee thus?

Boy.
My lord, I know not, I, nor can I guess,
Unless some fit or ^note frenzy do possess her:
For I have heard my grandsire say full oft,
Extremity of griefs ^note would make men mad;
And I have read that Hecuba of Troy
Ran mad for ^note 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 wil ^notel most willingly attend your ladyship.

Marc.
Lucius, I will. [Lavinia ^note turns over with her stumps the books which Lucius has let fall.

Tit.
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 ^note choice of all my library,
And so beguile thy sorrow, till the heavens ^note
Reveal the damn'd contriver of this deed.
Why lifts she up her arms in sequence thus?

Marc.
I think she means that there were ^note more than one
Confederate in the fact; ay, more there was;
Or else to heaven she heaves them for ^note revenge.

Tit.
Lucius, what book is that she tosseth ^note so?

Boy.
Grandsire, 'tis Ovid's Metamorphoses ^note:
My mother gave it me.

Marc.
For love of her that's gone,
Perhaps she cull'd it from among the rest.

Tit.
Soft! so ^note busily she turns the leaves!
Help her: ^note
What would she find? Lavinia, shall I read?
This is the tragic tale of Philomel,
And treats of Tereus' treason and his rape;
And rape, I fear, was root of thine annoy.

Marc.
See, brother, see; note how she quotes the leaves.

Tit.
Lavinia, wert thou thus surprised, sweet girl,
Ravish'd and wrong'd, as Philomela was,
Forced in the ruthless, vast, and gloomy woods?
See, see!
Ay, such a place there is, where we did hunt ^note—
O, had we never, never hunted there!—
Pattern'd by that the poet here describes,
By nature made for murders and for rapes.

Marc.
O, why should nature build so foul a den,
Unless the gods delight in tragedies? ^note

Tit.
Give signs, sweet girl, for here are none but friends,
What Roman lord it was durst do the deed:
Or slunk ^note not Saturnine, as Tarquin erst ^note,
That left the camp to sin ^note in Lucrece' bed? ^note

Marc.
Sit down, sweet niece: brother, sit down by me.
Apollo, Pallas, Jove, or Mercury,
Inspire me, that I may this treason find!
My lord, look here: look here, Lavinia:
This sandy plot is plain; guide, if thou canst,
This after me. [He writes his name with his staff, and guides it with feet ^note and mouth. ^{note note}] I ^note have writ my name
Without the help of any hand at all.
Cursed be that ^note heart ^note that forced us to this ^note shift!
Write thou, good niece; and here display at last ^note
What God will have discovered ^note for revenge:
Heaven guide thy pen to print thy sorrows plain,
That we may know the traitors and the truth! [She takes the staff in her mouth, and guides it with her stumps, and writes.

Tit. ^note
O, do ye ^note read, my lord, what she hath writ ^note?
‘Stuprum. Chiron. Demetrius.’

Marc.
What, what! the lustful sons of Tamora
Performers of this heinous ^note, bloody deed?

Tit.
Magni Dominator ^note poli,
Tam lentus audis scelera? tam lentus vides?

Marc.
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 ^note.
My lord, kneel down with me; Lavinia, kneel;
And kneel, sweet boy, the Roman Hector's hope;
And swear with me, as, with the woful fere ^note
And father of that chaste dishonour'd ^note dame,
Lord Junius Brutus sware ^note for Lucrece' rape,
That we will prosecute by good advice ^note
Mortal revenge upon these traitorous Goths,
And see their blood, or ^note die with this reproach.

Tit.
'Tis sure enough, an ^note you knew how ^note.
But if you hunt ^note these bear-whelps, then beware:
The ^note dam will wake; and if she wind you once, ^note
She's with the lion deeply still in league,
And lulls him whilst she playeth ^note on her back,
And when he sleeps will she do what she list.
You are ^note a young huntsman, Marcus; let alone ^note;
And, come, I will go get a leaf of brass,
And with a gad of steel will write these words,
And lay it by: the angry northern wind
Will blow these sands, like Sibyl's leaves, abroad,
And where's your ^note lesson then? Boy, what say you?

Boy.
I say, my lord, that if I were a man,
Their mother's bed-chamber should not be safe
For these bad bondmen to the yoke of Rome.

Marc.
Ay, that's my boy! thy father hath full oft
For his ^note ungrateful country done the like.

Boy.
And, uncle, so will I, an if ^note I live.

Tit.
Come, go with me into mine ^note armoury;
Lucius, I'll fit thee, and withal, my boy
Shall ^note carry from ^note me to the empress' sons
Presents that I intend to send them both:
Come, come; thou'lt do thy ^note message, wilt thou not?

Boy.
Ay, with my dagger in their bosoms ^note, grandsire.

Tit.
No, boy, not so; I'll teach thee ^note 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 ^note Titus, Lavinia, and Young Lucius.

Marc.
O heavens, can you hear a good man groan,
And not relent, or not compassion him?
Marcus, attend him in his ecstasy,
That hath more scars of sorrow in his heart
Than foemen's marks upon his batter'd shield,
But yet ^note so just that he will not revenge.
Revenge, ye heavens, ^note for old Andronicus! [Exit. ^note Scene II. [Footnote: The same. A room in the palace. ^note Enter Aaron, Chiron, and Demetrius at one door; and at another door, young Lucius, and an Attendant ^note, with a bundle of weapons, and verses writ upon them.

Chi.
Demetrius, here's the son of Lucius;

He hath some message to deliver us.

Aar.
Ay, some mad message from his mad grandfather.

Boy.
My lords, with all the humbleness I may,
I greet your honours from Andronicus. [Aside ^note]
And pray the Roman gods confound you both!

Dem.
Gramercy, lovely Lucius: what's ^note the news?

Boy. [Aside ^note]
That you are both decipher'd, that's the news, ^note
For villains ^note mark'd with rape.—May it please you,
My grandsire, well advised, hath sent by me
The goodliest weapons of his armoury
To gratify your honourable youth,
The hope of Rome; for so he bid ^note me say;
And so I do, and with his gifts present
Your lordships, that ^note, whenever you have need,
You may be armed and appointed well:
And so I leave you both, [Aside ^note] like bloody ^note villains. [Exeunt ^note Boy and Attendant.

Dem.
What's here? A scroll, and written round about!
Let's see:

[Reads]
‘Integer vitæ, scelerisque purus,
Non eget ^note Mauri ^note jaculis, nec arcu ^note.’

Chi.
O, 'tis a verse in Horace; I know it well:
I read it in the grammar long ago.

Aar.
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 ^note jest: the old man hath found their guilt,
And sends them ^note 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 ^note.—
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 ^note hearing.

Dem.
But me more good, to see so great a lord
Basely insinuate and send us gifts.

Aar.
Had he not reason, Lord Demetrius?
Did you not use his daughter very friendly?

Dem.
I would we had a thousand Roman dames
At such a bay, by turn to serve our ^note lust.

Chi.
A charitable wish and full of love.

Aar.
Here ^note lacks ^note but your ^note mother for to say ^note amen.

Chi.
And that would she for twenty thousand more.

Dem.
Come, let us go, and pray to all the gods
For our beloved mother in her pains.

Aar. [Aside ^note]
Pray to the devils; the gods have given us over. [Trumpets sound within. ^note

Dem.
Why do the emperor's trumpets flourish thus?

Chi.
Belike, for joy the emperor hath a son.

Dem.
Soft! who comes here? ^noteEnter ^note Nurse, with a blackamoor Child.

Nur.
Good morrow, lords:
O, tell me, did you see Aaron the Moor? ^note

Aar.
Well, more or less, or ne'er a whit at all,
Here Aaron is; and what with Aaron now?

Nur.
O gentle Aaron, we are all undone!
Now help, or woe betide thee evermore!

Aar.
Why, what a caterwauling ^note dost thou keep!
What dost thou wrap and fumble in thine arms?

Nur.
O, that which I would hide from heaven's eye,
Our empress' shame and stately Rome's disgrace!
She is deliver'd, lords, she is deliver'd ^note.

Aar.
To whom? ^note

Nur.
I mean, she is brought a-bed ^note.

Aar.
Well, God give her good rest! What hath he sent her ^note?

Nur.
A devil.

Aar.
Why, then she is the devil's dam;
A joyful issue ^{note note}.

Nur.
A joyless, dismal, black and sorrowful issue:
Here is the babe, as loathsome as a toad
Amongst the fairest breeders ^note of our clime:
The empress sends it thee, thy stamp, thy seal,
And bids thee christen it with thy dagger's point.

Aar.
'Zounds, ye ^note whore! is black so base a hue?
Sweet blowse ^note, you are a beauteous blossom, sure.

Dem.
Villain, what hast thou done?

Aar.
That ^note which thou canst not undo.

Chi.
Thou hast undone our mother.

Aar.
Villain, I have ^note done thy mother. ^note

Dem.
And therein, hellish dog, thou hast undone her. ^note
Woe to her chance, and damn'd her loathed choice!
Accursed the offspring of so foul a fiend!

Chi.
It shall not live.

Aar.
It shall not die ^note.

Nur.
Aaron, it must; the mother wills it so.

Aar.
What, must it, nurse? then let no man but I
Do execution on my flesh and blood.

Dem.
I'll broach the tadpole on my rapier's point:
Nurse, give it me; my sword shall soon dispatch it.

Aar.
Sooner this sword shall plough thy bowels up. [Takes ^note 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 ^note sharp point
That touches this my first-born son and heir!
I tell you, younglings, not Enceladus,
With all his threatening band of Typhon's brood,
Nor great Alcides, nor the god of war,
Shall seize this prey ^note out of his father's hands.
What, what, ye sanguine ^note, shallow-hearted boys!
Ye white-limed ^note walls! ye alehouse painted signs!
Coal-black is better than another hue,
In that it scorns ^note to bear another hue;
For all the water in the ocean
Can never turn the swan's black legs to white ^note,
Although she lave them hourly in the flood.
Tell the empress from me, I am of age ^note
To keep mine own, excuse it how she can.

Dem.
Wilt thou betray thy noble mistress thus?

Aar.
My mistress is my mistress, this myself,
The vigour and the picture of my youth:
This before all the world do I prefer;
This maugre all the world will I keep safe,
Or some of you shall smoke for it in Rome.

Dem.
By this our mother is for ever shamed.

Chi.
Rome will despise her for this foul escape.

Nur.
The emperor in his rage will doom her death.

Chi.
I blush to think upon this ignomy ^note.

Aar.
Why, there's the privilege your beauty bears:
Fie, treacherous hue, that will betray with blushing
The close enacts and counsels of the heart ^note!
Here's a young lad framed of another leer:
Look, how the black slave smiles upon the father,
As who should say ‘Old lad, I am thine own.’
He is your brother, lords, sensibly fed
Of that self-blood that first gave life to you;
And from that ^note womb where you imprison'd ^note were
He is enfranchised and come to light:
Nay, he is ^note your brother by the surer side,
Although my seal be stamped in his face.

Nur.
Aaron, what shall I say unto the empress? ^note

Dem.
Advise thee, Aaron, what is to be done,
And we will all subscribe to thy advice ^note:
Save thou the child, so we may all be ^note safe.

Aar.
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. ^note

Dem.
How many women saw this child of his?

Aar.
Why, so, brave lords! when ^note we ^note 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 ^note Aaron storms.
But say, again, how many saw the child? ^note

Nur.
Cornelia the midwife and myself;
And no one ^note else but the deliver'd ^note empress.

Aar.
The empress, the midwife, and yourself:
Two may keep counsel when the ^note third's away:
Go to the empress, tell her this I said. [He kills the Nurse. ^note
Weke, weke!
So cries a pig prepared ^note to the spit ^note.

Dem.
What mean'st thou, Aaron? wherefore didst thou this? ^note

Aar.
O Lord, sir, 'tis a deed of policy:
Shall she live to betray this guilt of ours,
A long-tongued babbling gossip? no, lords, no:
And now be it known to you my full intent.
Not far, one Muliteus ^note, 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 ^note be advanced,
And be received ^note for the emperor's heir,
And substituted in the place of mine,
To calm this tempest whirling ^note in the court;
And let the emperor dandle him for his own.

Hark ye, lords ^note; you see ^note I ^note have given her physic, [Pointing to the Nurse. ^note
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 ^note,
But send the midwife presently to me.
The midwife and the nurse well made away,
Then let the ladies tattle what they please ^note.

Chi.
Aaron, I see thou wilt not trust the air
With secrets ^note.

Dem.
For this care of Tamora,
Herself and hers are highly bound to thee. [Exeunt ^note Dem. and Chi. bearing off the Nurse's body.

Aar.
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 ^note us to our shifts:
I'll make you feed ^{note note} 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.

^note Scene III. [Footnote: The same. A public place. ^note Enter ^note Titus, bearing arrows with letters at the ends of them; with him, Marcus, young Lucius, and other Gentlemen (Publius, Sempronius, and Caius) ^note, with bows.

Tit.
Come, Marcus, come; kinsmen, ^note this is the way.
Sir boy, let ^note me see your archery;
Look ye draw home enough, and 'tis there straight.
Terras Astræa reliquit:
Be you ^note remember'd, Marcus, she's gone, she's fled.
Sirs ^note, take you to your tools. You, cousins, shall
Go sound the ocean, and cast your nets;
Happily ^note you may catch ^note her in the sea ^note;
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 ^note 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.

Marc.
O Publius, is not this a heavy case,
To see thy noble uncle thus distract?

Pub. ^note
Therefore, my lord ^note, it highly us concerns
By day and night to attend him carefully,
And feed his humour kindly as we may,
Till time beget some careful remedy.

Marc.
Kinsmen ^note, 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.

Tit.
Publius, how now! how now, my masters!
What, have ^note you met with her?

Pub. ^note
No, my good lord; but Pluto sends you word,
If you will have Revenge from hell, you shall:
Marry, for Justice, she is so ^note employ'd,
He thinks, with Jove in heaven, or somewhere else,
So that perforce you must needs stay a time.

Tit.
He doth me wrong to feed me with delays.
I'll dive into the burning lake below,
And pull her out of Acheron ^note by the heels.
Marcus, we are but shrubs, no cedars we,
No big-boned men framed of the Cyclops' size;
But metal, Marcus, steel to the very back,
Yet wrung with wrongs more than our backs ^note can bear:
And sith there's no justice ^note in earth nor ^note hell,
We will solicit heaven, and move the gods

To send down Justice for to wreak our wrongs.
Come, to ^note this gear. You are ^note a good archer, Marcus; [He gives them the arrows.
‘Ad Jovem,’ that's for you: here, ‘Ad Apollinem ^note:’
‘Ad Martem,’ that's ^note for myself:
Here, boy, to Pallas: here, to Mercury:
To Saturn, Caius ^note, not to Saturnine;
You were as good to shoot against the wind.
To it, boy ^note! Marcus, loose ^note when I bid.
Of my ^note word, I have written to effect;
There's not a god left unsolicited.

Marc.
Kinsmen ^note, shoot all your shafts into the court:
We will afflict the emperor in his pride.

Tit.
Now, masters, draw. [They shoot. ^note] O, well said, Lucius!
Good boy, in ^note Virgo's lap; give it ^note Pallas ^note.

Marc.
My lord, I aim ^note a mile beyond the moon;
Your letter is with Jupiter by this.

Tit.
Ha, ha!
Publius, Publius ^note, what hast thou done?
See, see, thou hast ^note shot off one of Taurus' horns.

Marc.
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 ^note? ^note

She laugh'd, and told the Moor he should not choose
But give them to his master for a present.

Tit.
Why, there it goes: God give his ^note lordship joy! Enter a Clown ^note, with a basket, and two pigeons in it ^note.
News, news from heaven! Marcus, the post is come. ^note
Sirrah, what tidings? have you any letters?
Shall I have justice? what says Jupiter?

Clo.

O, ^note the gibbet-maker ^note! he says that he hath ^note taken them down again, for the man must not be hanged till the next week.

Tit.

But ^note what says Jupiter, I ask thee?

Clo.

Alas, sir, I know not Jupiter ^note; I never drank with him in all my life. ^note

Tit.

Why, villain, art not thou the carrier?

Clo.

Ay, of my pigeons, sir; nothing ^note else.

Tit.

Why, didst thou not come from heaven?

Clo.

From heaven! alas, sir, I never came there: ^note God forbid I should be so bold to press to heaven ^note in my young days. Why, I am going with my pigeons to the tribunal plebs, to take up a matter of brawl betwixt my uncle and one of the emperial's men.

Marc.

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.

Tit.

Tell me, can you deliver an oration to the emperor with a grace?

Clo.

Nay, truly, sir, I could never say grace in all my life.

Tit.
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 ^note money for thy charges.
Give me pen ^note and ink.
Sirrah, can you with a grace deliver a supplication?

Clo.

Ay, sir.

Tit.

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.

Clo.
I warrant you, sir, let me alone.

Tit.
Sirrah, hast thou a knife? come, let me see it.
Here, Marcus, fold it in the oration;
For thou hast made it like an humble suppliant:
And when thou hast given it to ^note the emperor,
Knock at my door, and tell me what he says.

Clo.
God be with you, sir; I will. [Exit. ^note

Tit.
Come, Marcus, let us ^note go. Publius, follow me. [Exeunt. ^note Scene IV. [Footnote: The same. Before ^note the palace. Enter ^note Saturninus, Tamora, Chiron, Demetrius, Lords, and others; Saturninus with the Arrows in his hand that Titus shot.

Sat.
Why, lords, ^note what wrongs are these! was ever seen
An ^note emperor in ^note Rome thus overborne,
Troubled, confronted thus, and for the extent

Of egal ^note justice used in such contempt? ^note
My lords, you know, as know the mightful gods ^note,
However these ^note disturbers of our peace
Buzz in the people's ears, there nought hath pass'd
But even with law ^note against the wilful sons
Of old Andronicus. And what an if ^note
His sorrows have so overwhelm'd his wits,
Shall we be thus afflicted in his wreaks ^note,
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 ^note our unjustice ^note 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 ^note
Shall be no shelter to these outrages:
But he and his shall know that justice lives
In Saturninus' health ^note; whom ^note, if he sleep,
He'll so awake, as he ^note in fury shall
Cut off the proud'st ^note conspirator that lives.