Introductory matter

Persons represented. Saturninus, Brother to Bassianus Son of a deceas'd Emperor, and Contender for the Empire; Saturninus gaining it. Bassianus, Brother to Saturninus Son of a deceas'd Emperor, and Contender for the Empire; Saturninus gaining it. Titus Andronicus, a noble Roman, and Commander: Marcus [Marcus Andronicus], his Brother: Lucius, Son to Titus: Quintus, Son to Titus: Martius, Son to Titus: Mutius, Son to Titus: Boy, Son to Lucius [Young Lucius]: Gentleman, of their House. Æmilius [Aemilius], a noble Roman; two other noble Romans [Roman 1], [Roman 2]; a Captain, Tribune, Messenger, and Clown, Romans. Chiron, Son to Tamora: Demetrius, Son to Tamora: Aaron, a Moor, her Paramour. three noble Goths [Goth 1], [Goth 2], [Goth 3]. Tamora, Queen of the Goths. Lavinia, Titus' Daughter. a Nurse. Alarbus, Son to Tamora: a black Child. Gentlemen of Titus' House: Senators, &c. Romans. Guards, Officers, Soldiers, and Attendants, Romans and Goths. [Gentleman 1] Scene, Rome; and Parts adjacent.

TITUS ANDRONICUS. 14Q1177 ACT I. SCENE I. Rome. Place before the Capitol; in it, the Tomb of the Andronici. Senators, &c. aloft; a great Crowd below: Enter Saturninus, and his Followers, on one Side; and Bassianus, and his, on the other; with Drum and Colours.

Sat.
Noble patricians, patrons of my right,
Defend the justice of my cause with arms;
And, countrymen, my loving followers,
Plead my successive title with your swords:
I am his first ^note-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, followers, favourers of my right,—
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,
To justice, continence, and nobility:
But let desert in pure election shine;

And, Romans, fight for freedom in your choice. Enter, among the Senators, aloft, Marcus Andronicus.

Mar.
Princes,—that strive by factions, and by friends,
Ambitiously for rule and empery,—
Know, that the people of Rome, for whom we stand
A special party, have, by common voice,
In fair election for the empery ^note,
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 walls:
He by the senate is accited home,
From weary wars against ^note the barbarous Goths;
That, with his sons, a terror to our foes,
Hath yoak'd a nation strong, train'd up in arms.
Ten years are spent, since first he undertook
This cause of Rome, and chástised with arms
Our enemies' pride: Five times he hath return'd
Bleeding to Rome, bearing his valiant sons
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 intreat,—By honour of his name,
Whom worthily you would have now succeeded;
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 suiters should,
Plead your deserts in peace and humbleness.

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

Bas.
Marcus Andronicus, so I do affy
In thy upríghtness and integrity,
And so I love and honour thee, and thine,
Thy noble brother Titus, and his sons,
And her, to whom my thoughts are humbl'd all,
Gracious Lavinia, Rome's rich ornament,
That I will here dismiss my loving friends;
And to my fortunes, and the people's favour,
Commit my cause in balance to be weigh'd. [Exeunt Followers of Bassianus.

Sat.
Friends, that have been thus forward in my right,
I thank you all, and here dismiss you all;
And to the love and favour of my country
Commit myself, my person, and the cause. [Exeunt Followers of Saturninus.
Rome, be as just and gracious unto me,
As I am confident and kind to thee.—
Open the gates, tribunes, and let me in.

Bas.
Tribunes, and me, a poor competitor. [Sat. and Bas. with a few, ascend the Capitol; and Exeunt, with Senators, and Marcus. SCENE II. The same. Trumpet. Enter a Captain, and Others.

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 yoak, the enemies of Rome. Flourish of Trumpets, &c. Enter certain of the Troops of Titus, marching slowly; then Mutius, and Martius, abreast; after them, Persons bearing a Coffin, cover'd with black; then Quintus, and Lucius; and then Titus Andronicus; Officers behind: After them, Tamora, with Alarbus, Chiron, and Demetrius, her Sons, Aaron, and other Goths, Prisoners; Soldiers, and People, following. Bearers set down the Coffin, and Titus advances.

Tit.
Hail, Rome,14Q1178 victorious in thy mourning ^note weeds!
Lo, as the bark, that hath discharg'd her fraught ^note,
Returns with precious lading to the bay,
From whence at first she weigh'd her anchorage,
Cometh Andronicus, bound with laurel boughs,
To resalute his country with his tears,
Tears of true joy for his return to Rome.—
Thou great defender of this capitol,
Stand gracious to the rites that we intend!—
Romans, of five and twenty valiant sons,
Half of the number that king Priam had,
Behold the poor remains, alive, and dead:
These, that survive, let Rome reward with love;
These, that I bring unto their latest home,
With burial amongst their ancestors:
Here Goths have given me leave to sheath my sword.
Titus, unkind, and careless of thine own,
Why suffer'st thou thy sons, unbury'd yet,
To hover on the dreadful shore of Styx?—
Make way to lay them by their bretheren.— [Tomb open'd.
There greet in silence, as the dead are wont,
And sleep in peace, slain in your country's wars!
O sacred receptacle of my joys,

Sweet cell of virtue and nobility,
How many sons of mine hast thou 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 earthly ^note prison of their bones;
That so the shadows be not unappeas'd,
Nor we disturb'd with prodigies on earth.

Tit.
I give him you; the noblest that survives,
The eldest son of this distressed queen. [giving them Alarbus.

Tam.
Stay, Roman brethren;—Gracious conqueror,
Victorious Titus, rue the ^note 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,
Captive to thee, and to thy Roman yoak;
But must my sons be slaughter'd in the streets,
For valiant doings in their country's cause?
O, if to fight for king and common-weal
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 brethren, ^note whom you Goths beheld ^note
Alive, and dead; and, for their brethren slain,

Religiously they ask a sacrifice:
To this your son is mark'd; and dye he must,
To appease their groaning shadows that are gone.

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 consum'd. [Exeunt Sons with Alarbus.

Tam.
O cruel irreligious piety!

Chi.
Was ever Scythia half so barbarous?

Dem.
Oppose not Scythia ^note14Q1179 to ambitious Rome.
Alarbus goes to ^note rest; and we survive,
To tremble under Titus' threatning look: ^note
Then, madam, stand resolv'd; but hope withal,
The self-same gods, that arm'd the queen of Troy
With opportunity of sharp revenge
Upon the Thracian tyrant in his tent, ^note
May favour Tamora, the queen of Goths,
(When Goths were Goths, and Tamora was queen)
To quit the bloody ^note wrongs upon her foes. Re-enter Sons, with their Swords bloody.

Luc.
See, lord and father, how we have perform'd
Our Roman rites: ^note Alarbus' limbs are lopt,
And entrails feed the sacrificing fire,
Whose smoke, like incense, doth perfume the sky.
Remaineth nought, but to interr our brethren,
And with loud 'larums welcome them to Rome.

Tit.
Let it be so; and let Andronicus
Make this his latest farewel to their souls. [Solemn and warlike Musick. Coffin lay'd into the Tomb.
In peace and honour rest you here, my sons;
Rome's readiest champions, repose you here, ^note

Secure from worldly chances and mishaps!
Here lurks no treason, here no envy swells,
Here grow no damned grudges; here no storms, ^note
No noise, but silence and eternal sleep:
In peace and honour rest you here, my sons! Enter Lavinia, attended.

Lav.
In peace and honour live lord Titus long;
My noble lord and father, live in fame!
Lo, at this tomb my tributary tears
I render, for my brethren's obsequies;
And at thy feet I kneel, with tears of joy
Shed on 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 reserv'd ^note
The cordial of mine age to glad my heart!—
Lavinia, live; out-live thy father's days,
In fame's ^note eternal date for virtue's praise! Enter, from the Capitol, Marcus Andronicus, Saturninus, Bassianus, and Others.

Mar.
Long live lord Titus, my beloved brother,
Gracious triúumpher in the eyes of Rome!

Tit.
Thanks, gentle tribune, noble brother Marcus.

Mar.
And welcome, nephews, from successful wars,
You that survive, and you that sleep in fame!
Fair lords, your fortunes are alike in all, ^note
That in your country's service drew your swords:
But safer triumph is this funeral pomp;
That hath aspir'd to Solon's happiness,
And triumphs over chance in honour's bed.—
Titus Andronicus, the people of Rome,
Whose friend in justice thou hast ever been,

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

Tit.
A better head her glorious body fits,
Than his, that shakes for age and feebleness:
What should I don this robe, and trouble you?
Be chose ^note with proclamations 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 let my country's strength successfully;
And bury'd 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 scepter to controul the world;
Upright he held it, lords, that held it last.

Mar.
Titus, thou shalt obtain and ask ^note the empery.14Q1180

Sat.
Proud and ambitious tribune, canst thou tell?

Tit.
Patience, prince Saturnine ^note.

Sat.
Romans, do me right;—
Patricians, draw your swords; and sheath them not,
'Till Saturninus be Rome's emperor:—
Andronicus, 'would thou wert shipt 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 dye:
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 tribunes ^note here,
I ask your voices and your suffrages;
Will you bestow them friendly on Andronicus?

Tri.
To gratify ^note 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 I ^note 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 common-weal:
Then, if you will elect by my advice,
Crown him; and say, Long-live our emperor!

Mar.
With voices and applause of every sort,
Patricians, and plebeians, we create
Lord Saturninus Rome's great emperor,
And say, Long live our emperor Saturnine! [Flourish; and Shouts of, Long live, &c.

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 emperess,
Rome's royal mistress, mistress of my heart,
And in the sacred Pántheon ^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 of your grace.
And here, in sight of Rome, to Saturnine,—
King and commander of our common-weal,
The wide world's emperor,—do I consecrate
My sword, my chariot, and my prisoners;
Presents well worthy Rome's imperial lord:
Receive them then, the tribute that I owe,
Mine honour's ensigns humbl'd at thy feet ^note.

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

&clquo;Sat.
&clquo;A goodly ^note lady, trust me; of the hue&crquo;
&clquo;That I would choose, were I to choose anew.&crquo;—
Clear up, fair queen, that cloudy countenance;
Though chance of war hath wrought this change of cheer,
Thou com'st not to be made a scorn in Rome:
Princely shall be thy usage every way.
Rest on my word, and let not discontent
Daunt all your hopes: Madam, he comforts you,
Can make you ^note greater than the queen of Goths.—
Lavinia, you are not displeas'd with this?

Lav.
Not I, my lord; sith true nobility
Warrants 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 and drum. [Flourish. Saturninus addresses Tamora.

Bas.
Lord Titus, by your leave, this maid is mine. [seizing Lavinia.

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

Bas.
Ay, noble Titus; and resolv'd withal,
To do myself this reason and this right.

Mar.
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 surpriz'd.

Sat.
Surpriz'd! By whom?

Bas.
By him that justly may
Bear his betroth'd from all the world away. [Exit, bearing off Lavinia; Marcus, and Titus' Sons, guarding them; Mutius last.

Mut.
Brothers, help to convey her hence away,
And with my sword I'll keep this door safe.

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

Mut.
My lord, you pass not here.

Tit.
What, villain boy! [assailing him.
Bar'st me my way in Rome?

Mut.
Help, Lucius, help! [falls, and dies. Re-enter Lucius.

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 promis'd love. [Exit.

Sat.
No, Titus, no; the emperor needs her not,
Nor her, nor thee, nor any of thy stock:
I'll trust, by leisure, him that mocks me once;
Thee never, nor thy traiterous haughty sons,
Confederates all thus to dishonour me.
Was there none else in ^note Rome to make a stale of,
But Saturnine? Full well, Andronicus,
Agree these deeds, with that proud brag of thine,
That said'st, I beg'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 common-wealth of Rome.

Tit.
These words are razors to my wounded heart.

Sat.
And therefore, lovely Tamora, queen of Goths,—
That, like the stately Phæbe ^note 'mongst her nymphs,
Dost over-shine the gallant'st dames of Rome,—
If thou be pleas'd with this my sudden choice,
Behold, I choose thee, Tamora, for my bride,
And will create thee emperess ^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 everything
In readiness for Hymenæus stands ^note,—
I will not resalute the streets of Rome,
Or climb my palace, 'till from forth this place
I lead espous'd 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, accompany
Your noble emperor, and his lovely bride;
Sent by the heavens for prince Saturnine,
Whose wisdom hath her fortune conquered:
There shall we cónsummate our spousal rites. [Exeunt Saturninus, and Followers, with Tamora, her Sons, Aaron, Goths, &c.

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

Mar.
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 all our family;
Unworthy brother, and unworthy sons!

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

Tit.
Traitors, away; he rests not in this tomb.
This monument five hundred years hath stood,
Which I have sumptuously re-edify'd:
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.

Mar.
My lord, this is impiety in you:
My nephew Mutius' deeds do plead for him;
He must be bury'd with his bretheren.

Qui. Mar^t.
And shall, or him we will accompany.

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

Mar^t.
He that would vouch 't14Q1181 in ^note any place but here.

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

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

Tit.
Marcus, even thou hast strook 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.

Qui.
He is not with ^note himself, let us withdraw.

Mar^t.
Not I, 'till ^note Mutius' bones be buried. [Marcus and Titus' Sons kneel to him.

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

Mar^t.
Father, and in that name doth nature speak,—

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

Mar.
Renowned Titus, more than half my soul,—

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

Mar.
Suffer thy brother Marcus to interr
His noble nephew here in virtue's nest,
That dy'd in honour and Lavinia's cause.
Thou art a Roman, be not barbarous.
The Greeks, upon advice, did bury Ajax
That slew himself; and wise ^note Laertes' son
Did graciously plead for his funerals:
Let not young Mutius then, that was thy joy,
Be bar'd his entrance here.

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

Luc.
There lye thy bones, sweet Mutius, with thy friends,
'Till we with trophies do adorn thy tomb!—
No man shed tears for noble Mutius;
He lives in fame, that dy'd in virtue's cause.

all.
No man, &c. [Tomb clos'd.

Mar.
My lord,—to step out of these dreary dumps ^note,—
How comes it, that the subtle queen of Goths
Is of a sudden thus advanc'd in Rome?

Tit.
I know not, Marcus; but, I know, it is;
Whether by device, or no, the heavens can tell:
Is she not then beholding to the man,
That brought her for this high good turn so far?
Yes, and will nobly him remunerate. ^note Flourish. Enter, on one Side, Saturninus, and his Train, with Tamora, Goths, &c. on the other, Bassianus, and his, with Lavinia.

Sat.
So, Bassianus, you have play'd your prize;
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 love, and now my wife?
But let the laws of Rome determine all;
Mean while I am possest 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 I owe to Rome,
This noble gentleman, lord Titus here,
Is in opinion, and in honour, wrong'd;
That, in the rescue of Lavinia,
With his own hand did slay his youngest son,
In zeal to you, and highly mov'd to wrath
To be controul'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 me:
Rome and the righteous heavens be my judge,
How I have lov'd 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 openly,
And basely put it up without revenge?

Tam.
Not so, my lord; The gods of Rome foresend,
I should be author to dishonour you!
But on mine honour dare I undertake
For good lord Titus' innocence in all,
Whose fury, not dissembl'd, 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.
&clquo;My lord, be rul'd by me, be won at last,&crquo;
&clquo;Dissemble all your griefs, and discontents:&crquo;
&clquo;You are but newly planted in your throne;&crquo;
&clquo;Lest then the people, and patricians too,&crquo;

&clquo;Upon a just survey, take Titus' part,&crquo;
&clquo;And so supplant us for ingratitude ^note,&crquo;
&clquo;(Which Rome reputes to be a heinous sin)&crquo;
&clquo;Yield at intreats, and then let me alone:&crquo;
&clquo;I'll find a day to massacre them all,&crquo;
&clquo;And rase their faction, and their family,&crquo;
&clquo;The cruel father, and his trait'rous sons,&crquo;
&clquo;To whom I sued for my dear son's life;&crquo;
&clquo;And make them know, what 'tis to let a queen&crquo;
&clquo;Kneel in the streets, and beg for grace in vain.&crquo;
Come, come, sweet emperor,—come, Andronicus,—
Take up this good old man, and chear the heart
That dies in tempest of thy angry frown.

Sat.
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.

Tam.
Titus, I am incorporate in Rome,
A Roman now adopted happily,
And must advise the emperor for his good.
This day all quarrels dye, Andronicus;—
And let it be mine honour, good my lord,
That I have reconcil'd your friends and you.—
For you, prince Bassianus, I have pass'd
My word and promise to the emperor,
That you will be more mild and tractable.—
And fear not, lords,—and you, Lavinia;—
By my advise, all-humbl'd on your knees,
You shall ask pardon of his majesty.

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

Mar.
That on mine honour here I do protest.

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

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

Sat.
Marcus, for thy sake, and thy brother's here,
And at my lovely Tamora's intreats,
I do remit these young men's heinous faults:
Stand † up.—
Lavinia, though you left me like a churl,
I found a friend; and sure as death I swore, ^note
I would not part a batchelor 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 it please your majesty
To hunt the panther and the hart ^note with me,
With hound and horn we'll give your grace bonjour.

Sat.
Be it so, Titus, and gramercy too. [Flourish. Exeunt. ACT II. SCENE I. The same. Before the Palace. Enter Aaron.

Aar.
Now climbeth Tamora Olympus' top,
Safe out of fortune's shot; and sits aloft,
Secure of thunder's crack, or lightning flash;
Advanc'd above pale ^note envy's threat'ning reach.
As when the golden sun salutes the morn,
And, having gilt the ocean with his beams,
Gallops the zodiack in his glist'ring coach,

And overlooks the highest-peering hills:
So Tamora:—
Upon her wit ^note doth earthly honour wait,
And virtue stoops and trembles at her frown.
Then, Aaron, arm thy heart, ^note and fit thy thoughts,
To mount aloft 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 Prometheus ty'd to Caucasus.
Away with slavish weeds, and idle thoughts!
I will be bright, and shine in pearl and gold,
To wait upon this new-made emperess.
To wait, said I? to wanton with this queen,
This goddess, this Semiramis; ^note this nymph, ^note14Q1182
This Syren, that will charm Rome's Saturnine,
And see his shipwreck, and his common-weal's.
Hola! what storm is this? Enter Chiron, and Demetrius, braving.

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

Chi.
Demetrius, thou dost overween 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, thee ^note 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.
Clubs! clubs! these lovers will not keep the peace.

Dem.
Why, boy, although our mother, unadvis'd,

Gave you a dancing rapier by your side,
Are you so desperate grown to threat your friends?
Go to; have your lath glew'd within your sheath,
'Till you know better how to handle it.

Chi.
Mean while, sir, with the little skill I have,
Full well shalt thou perceive how much I dare, ^note [draws.

Dem.
Ay, boy, grow ye so brave? [draws too.

Aar.
Why, how ^note now, lords? [interposing.
So near the emperor's palace dare you draw,
And maintain such a quarrel openly?
Full well I wote the ground of all this grudge;
I would not, for a million of gold,
The cause were known to them it most concerns:
Nor would your noble mother, for much more,
Be so dishonour'd in the court of Rome.
For shame, put up.

Dem.
Not I; 'till I have sheath'd
My rapier in his bosom, and, withal,
Thrust these reproachful speeches down his throat,
That he hath breath'd in my dishonour here.

Chi.
For that I am prepar'd and full resolv'd.
Foul-spoken coward! that thunder'st with thy tongue,
And with thy weapon nothing dar'st ^note perform.

Aar.
Away, I say.— [beating down their Swords.
Now by the gods that warlike Goths adore,
This petty ^note brabble will undo us all.—
Why, lords, and think you not how dangerous
It is, to jet upon ^note a prince's right?
What, is Lavinia then become so loose,
Or Bassianus so degenerate,
That for her love such quarrels may be broacht,
Without controulment, justice, or revenge?

Young lords, beware! an should the empress know
This discord's ^note ground, the musick would not please.

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

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

Aar.
Why, are ye mad? or know ye not, in Rome
How furious and impatient they be,
And cannot brook competitors in love?
I tell you, lords, you do but plot your deaths
By this device.

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

Aar.
To atchieve her! How?

Dem.
Why mak'st ^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 lov'd.
What, man! more water glideth by the mill
Than wots the miller of; and easy it is,
Of a cut loaf to steal a shive, we know:
Though Bassianus be the emperor's brother,
Better than he have yet ^note worn Vulcan's badge.

&clquo;Aar.
&clquo;Ay, and as good as Saturninus ^note may.&crquo;

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

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

Chi.
Ay, so the turn were serv'd.

Dem.
Aaron, thou hast hit it.

Aar.
'Would you had hit it too;
Then should not we be tir'd with this ado.
Why, hark ye, hark ye; And are you such fools,
To square for this? Would it offend you then,
That both should speed? ^note

Chi.
I'faith, not me.

Dem.
Nor me, so I were one.

Aar.
For shame, be friends; and join for that you jar.
'Tis policy and stratagem must do
That you affect; and so must you resolve;
That, what you cannot, as you would, atchieve,
You must perforce accomplish as you may.
Take this of me, Lucrece was not more chast
Than this Lavinia, Bassianus' love.
A speedier course than ling'ring ^note languishment
Must we pursue, and I have found the path.
My lords, a solemn hunting is in hand;
There will the lovely Roman ladies troop:
The forest walks are wide and spacious;
And many unfrequented plots there are,
Fitted by kind for rape and villany:
Single you thither then this dainty doe,
And strike her home by force, if not by words:
This way, or not at all, stand you in hope.
Come, come, our empress, with her sacred wit,
To villany and vengeance consecrate,
Will we acquaint with all that we intend;
And she shall file our engines with advice,
That will not suffer you to square yourselves,
But to your wishes' height advance you both.
The emperor's court is like the house of fame,
The palace full of tongues, of eyes, of ears:

The woods are ruthless, dreadful, deaf, and dull;
There speak, and strike, brave boys, and take your turns;
There serve your lust, shadow'd from heaven's eye,
And revel in Lavinia's treasury.

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

Dem.
Sit fas ^note, aut nefas, 'till I find the stream ^note
To cool this heat, a charm to calm these fits ^note,
Per Styga ^note, per manes vehor. [Exeunt. SCENE II. A Chace near Rome. Court before a Lodge. Horns, and Cry of Hounds, heard. Enter Titus, and Train of Hunters, &c. Marcus, Lucius, Quintus, and Martius.

Tit.
The hunt is up, the morn is bright and grey,
The fields are fragrant, and the woods are green:
Uncouple here, and let us make a bay,
And wake the emperor, and his lovely bride,
And rouse the prince; and ring a hunter's peal,
That all the court may echo with the noise.
Sons, let it be your charge, as it is ours,
To attend the emperor's person carefully:
I have been troubl'd in my sleep this night,
But dawning day new comfort hath inspir'd.— Hunters wind a Peal. Enter Saturninus, Tamora, Bassianus, Lavinia, Chiron, Demetrius, and Train.
Many good morrows to your majesty;—
Madam, to you as many and as good!—
I promised your grace a hunter's peal.

Sat.
And you have rung it lustily, my lords,
Somewhat too early for new-marry'd ladies.

Bas.
Lavinia, how say you?

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

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

Mar.
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 ^note swallows o'er the plain.

&clquo;Dem.
&clquo;Chiron, we hunt not, we, with horse nor hound,&crquo;
&clquo;But hope to pluck a dainty doe to ground.&crquo; [Exeunt. SCENE III. The same: A desert Part of it. Enter Aaron, with a Bag of Gold, which he hides.

Aar.
He, that had wit, would think, that I had none,
To bury so much gold under a tree,
And never after to inherit it.
Let him, that thinks of me so abjectly,
Know that this gold must coin a stratagem;
Which, cunningly effected, will beget
A very excellent piece of villany:
And so repose, sweet gold, for their unrest,
That have their alms out of the empress' chest.14Q1183 Enter Tamora.

Tam.
My lovely Aaron, wherefore look'st thou sad,
When every thing doth make a gleeful boast?
The birds chaunt melody on every bush;
The snake lies rowled in the chearful 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 babling echo mocks the hounds,
Replying shrilly to the well-tun'd horns,
As if ^note a double hunt were heard at once,—
Let us sit down, and mark their yelling ^{note note} noise:
And,—after conflict, such as was suppos'd
The wandring prince and Dido once enjoy'd,
When with a happy storm they were surpriz'd,
And curtain'd with a counsel-keeping cave,—
We may, each wreathed in the other's arms,
Our pastimes done, possess a golden slumber;
While hounds, and horns, and sweet melodious birds,
Be unto us as is a nurse's song
Of lullaby, to bring her babe asleep.

Aar.
Madam, though Venus govern your desires,
Saturn is dominator over mine:
What signifies my deadly-standing eye,
My silence, and my cloudy melancholy?
My fleece of wooly hair, that now uncurls,
Even as an adder, when she doth unrowl
To do some fatal execution?
No, madam, these are no venereal signs;
Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand,
Blood and revenge are hammering in my head.
Hark, Tamora,—the empress of my soul,
Which never hopes more heaven than rests in thee,—
This is the day of doom for Bassianus;
His Philomel must lose her tongue to-day,
Thy sons make pillage of her chastity,
And wash their hands in Bassianus' blood.
See'st thou this &dagger2; letter? take it up, I pray thee,
And give the king this fatal-plotted scrowl:—
Now question me no more, we are espy'd;

Here comes a parcel of our hopeful booty,
Which dreads ^note not yet their lives' destruction. Enter Bassianus, and Lavinia.

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

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

Bas.
Who ^note have we here? Rome's royal emperess,
Unfurnish'd of her well ^note-beseeming troop?
Or is it Dian, habited like her;
Who hath abandoned her holy groves,
To see the general hunting in this forest?

Tam.
Saucy controuler of our private steps!
Had I the power, that, some say, Dian had,
Thy temples should be planted presently
With horns, as were Actæon's ^note; and the hounds
Should drive upon thy new ^note-transformed limbs,
Unmannerly intruder as thou art!

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

Bas.
Believe me, queen, your swarth Cimmerian ^note
Doth make your honour of his body's hue,
Spotted, detested, and abhominable.
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 with a ^note barbarous Moor,

If foul desire had not conducted you?

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

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

Lav.
Ay, for these slips have made him noted long:
Good king! to be so mightily abus'd!

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

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

Tam.
Have I not reason, think you, to look pale?
These two have 'tic'd me hither to this place;
A bare detested ^note vale, you see, it is:
The trees, though summer, yet forlorn and lean,
O'ercome with moss, and baleful misselto:
Here never shines the sun; here nothing breeds,
Unless the nightly owl, or fatal raven.
And, when they show'd ^note me this abhorred pit,
They told me, here, at dead time of the night,
A thousand fiends, a thousand hissing snakes,
Ten thousand swelling toads, as many urchins,
Would make such fearful and confused cries,
As any mortal body, hearing it,
Should straight fall mad, or else dye 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 did ^note 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 not ^note henceforth call'd my children.

Dem.
This † is a witness, that I am thy son.

Chi.
And this † for me; strook home to shew my strength. [stabing suddenly Bassianus; who falls.

Lav.
I come, Semiramis,—14Q1184 nay, barbarous Tamora;
For no name fits thy nature but thy own!

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

Dem.
Stay, madam, here is more belongs to her;
First thrash the corn, then after burn the straw.
This minion stood upon her chastity,
Upon her nuptial vow, her loyalty,
And with that paint now braves ^{note note} your mightiness:
And shall she carry this unto her grave?

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dem.
Listen, fair madam: let it be your glory,
To see her tears; but be your heart to them,

As unrelenting flint to drops of rain.

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

Chi.
What, would'st thou have me prove myself a bastard?

Lav.
'Tis true; the raven doth not hatch a lark:
Yet have I heard, (o, could I find it now!)
The lion, mov'd with pity, did endure
To have his princely paws par'd all away.
Some say, that ravens foster forlorn children,
The whilst their own birds famish in their nests:
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.

Tam.
Had'st thou in person ne'er offended me,
Even for his sake am I now ^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, use ^note her as you will;
The worse to her, the better lov'd of me.

Lav.
O Tamora, be call'd a gentle queen,
And with thine own hands kill me in this place:
For 'tis not life, that I have beg'd so long;
Poor I was slain, when Bassianus dy'd. ^note

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

Lav.
'Tis present death, I beg; and one thing more,
That womanhood denies my tongue to tell:
O, keep me from their worse-than-killing lust;
And tumble me into some loathsom pit,
Where never man's eye may behold my body:
Do this, and be a charitable murderer.

Tam.
So should I rob my sweet sons of their fee:
No, let them satisfy their lust on thee.

Dem.
Away; for thou hast stay'd us here too long.

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

Chi.
Nay, then I'll stop your mouth:—Bring thou her husband;
This is the hole where Aaron bid us hide him. [Dem. throws the Body of Bas. into the Pit: Exeunt he and Chi. dragging off Lav.

Tam.
Farewel, my sons: see, that you make her sure:—
Ne'er let my heart know merry chear 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 deflour. [Exit. SCENE IV. The same Enter Aaron, with Quintus and Martius.

Aar.
Come on, my lords; the better foot before:
Straight will I bring you to the loathsom pit,
Where I espy'd the panther fast asleep.

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

Mar^t.
And mine, I promise you: were it not for shame,
Well could I leave our sport to sleep a while. [falls into the Pit.

Qui.
What, art thou fall'n? What subtle hole is this,

Whose mouth is cover'd with rude-growing briars;
Upon whose leaves are drops of new-shed blood,
As fresh as morning's dew distill'd on flowers?
A very fatal place it seems to me:—
Speak, brother, hast thou hurt thee with the fall?

Mar^t.
O, brother, with the dismalest objéct,
That ever eye with sight made heart lament.

&clquo;Aar.
&clquo;Now will I fetch the king, to find them here;&crquo;
&clquo;That he thereby may have a likely guess,&crquo;
&clquo;How these were they that made away his brother.&crquo; [Exit Aaron.

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

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

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

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

Mar^t.
Lord Bassianus lies embrued here,
All on a heap, like to a slaughter'd ^note lamb,
In this detested, dark, blood-drinking pit.

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

Mar^t.
Upon his bloody finger he doth wear
A precious ring, that lightens all the hole;
Which, like a taper in some monument,
Doth shine upon the dead man's earthy ^note cheeks,

And shews the ragged entrails of this pit: ^note
So pale did shine the moon on Pyramus,
When he by night lay bath'd in maiden blood:
O brother, help me with thy fainting hand,—
If fear hath made thee faint, ^note as me it hath,—
Out of this fell devouring receptacle,
As hateful as Cocytus' ^note misty mouth.

Qui.
Reach me thy hand, that I may help thee out;
Or, wanting strength to do thee so much good,
I may be pluck'd into the swallowing womb
Of this deep pit, poor Bassianus' grave.
I have no strength to pluck thee to the brink.

Mar^t.
Nor I no strength to climb without thy help.

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

Sat.
Along with me: I'll see what hole is here;
And what he is, that now is leapt into it.—
Say, who art thou, that lately didst descend
Into this gaping hollow of the earth?

Mar^t.
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 him there.

Mar^t.
We know not where you left him all ^note alive,
But, out-alas! here have we found him dead. Enter Tamora, attended; Titus, and Lucius.

Tam.
Where is my lord the king?

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

Tam.
Where is thy brother Bassianus?

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

Tam.
Then all too late I bring this &dagger2; fatal writ,
The complot of this timeless tragedy;
And wonder greatly, that man's face can fold
In pleasing smiles such murd'rous tyranny.

Sat. [reads.]
An if we miss to meet him handsomly,—
Sweet huntsman, Bassianus 'tis, we mean,—
Do thou so much as dig the grave for him;
Thou know'st our meaning: look for thy reward
Among the nettles at the elder-tree,
Which overshades the mouth of that same pit,
Where we decreed to bury Bassianus.
Do this, and purchase us thy lasting friends.
O, Tamora, was ever heard the like!—
This is the pit, and this the elder-tree:
Look, sirs, if you can find the huntsman out,
That should have murther'd Bassianus here.

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

Sat.
Two of thy whelps, [to Tit.] fell curs of bloody kind,
Have here bereft my brother of his life:—
Sirs, drag them from the pit unto the prison;
There let them bide, until we have devis'd
Some never-heard-of torturing pain for them.

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

Tit.
High emperor, upon my feeble knee
I beg this boon, with tears not lightly shed,
That this fell fault of my accursed sons,
(Accursed, if the fault ^note be prov'd in them)—

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

Tam.
Andronicus himself did take it up.

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

Sat.
Thou shalt not bail them: see, thou follow me:—
Some bring the murther'd body, some the murtherers:
Let them not speak a word, the guilt is plain;
For, by my soul, were there worse end than death,
That end upon them should be executed. [Attendants draw Quintus, and Martius, out of the Pit, and the Body of Bassianus; and Exeunt, bearing them off.

Tam.
Andronicus, I will entreat the king;
Fear not thy sons, they shall do well enough. [Exeunt Sat. Tam. Aar. and Train.

Tit.
Come, Lucius, come; stay not to talk with them. [Exeunt Titus, and Lucius. SCENE V. The same. Enter Chiron, and Demetrius, with Lavinia, ravisht; her Hands cut off, and her Tongue cut out.

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

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

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

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

Dem.
She hath no tongue to call, nor hands to wash:

And so let's leave her to her silent walks.

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

Dem.
If thou hadst hands to help thee knit the cord. [Exeunt Chiron, and Demetrius. Horns within: Lavinia starts, and is making from them; Enter Marcus.

Mar.
Who's this,—my niece?—that flies away so fast?
Cousin, a word; Where is your husband?—
If I do dream, 'would all my wealth would wake me!
If I do wake, some planet strike me down,
That I may slumber in eternal sleep!—
Speak, gentle niece, what stern ungentle hand ^note
Hath lop'd, and hew'd, and made thy body bare
Of her two branches? those sweet ornaments,
Whose circling shadows kings have sought to sleep in;
And might not gain so great a happiness,
As half thy ^note love?14Q1185 Why dost not speak to me?
Alas, a crimson river of warm blood,
Like to a bubbling fountain stir'd with wind,
Doth rise and fall between thy rosed lips, ^note
Coming and going with thy honey breath.
But, sure, some Tereus hath defloured thee;
And, lest thou should'st 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 issuing ^note 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?
O, that I knew thy heart; and knew the beast,
That I might rail at him to ease my mind!
Sorrow concealed, like an oven stopt,

Doth burn the heart to cinders where it is.
Fair Philomela she but lost her tongue,
And in a tedious sampler sew'd her mind:
But, lovely niece, that mean is cut from thee;
A craftier Tereus hast thou met withal; ^note
And he hath cut those pretty fingers off,
That could have better sew'd than Philomel.
O, had the monster seen those lilly hands
Tremble, like aspen leaves, upon a lute,
And make the silken strings delight to kiss them,
He would not then have touch'd them for his life.
Or, had he heard the heavenly harmony,
Which that sweet tongue hath made;
He would have dropt his knife, and fell asleep ^note,
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! [Exit, with Lavinia. ACT III. SCENE I. Rome. ^note A Street. Enter Senators, Tribunes, &c. and Officers of Justice, with Quintus and Martius, bound, passing to Execution; Titus 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 see
Filling the aged wrinkles in my cheeks;
Be pitiful to my condemned sons,
Whose souls are not ^note corrupted as 'tis thought!
For two and twenty sons I never wept,
Because they dy'd in honour's lofty bed:
For these, these, tribunes, ^note in the dust I write [throwing himself on the Ground.
My heart's deep languor, and my soul's sad tears. [Tribunes, &c. pass Titus, and Exeunt with the Prisoners.
Let my tears stanch ^note the earth's dry appetite;
My sons' sweet blood will make it shame and blush.
O earth, I will befriend thee more with rain,
That shall distil from these two ancient urns, ^note
Than youthful April shall with all his showers:
In summer's drought, I'll drop upon thee still;
In winter, with warm tears I'll melt the snow,
And keep eternal spring-time on thy face,
So thou refuse to drink my dear sons' blood. Enter Lucius, with his Sword drawn.
O reverend tribunes! gentle ^note, aged men!
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 ^note not, 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.

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

Tit.
Why, 'tis no matter, man: [rises.] if they did hear ^note,
They would not mark me; or, if they did mark,
All bootless unto them, ^note they would not pity me. ^note14Q1186
Therefore I tell my sorrows to ^note the stones;
Who, though they cannot answer my distress,
Yet in some sort are ^note better than the tribunes,
For that they will not intercept my tale:
When I do weep, they humbly at my feet
Receive my tears, and seem to weep with me;
And, were they but attired in grave weeds,
Rome could afford no tribune like to these.
A stone is soft ^note as wax, tribunes more hard than stones:
A stone is silent, and offendeth not;
And tribunes with their tongues doom men to death.
But wherefore stand'st thou with thy weapon drawn?

Luc.
To rescue my two brothers from their death:
For which attempt, the judges have pronounc'd
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,
But me, and mine: How happy art thou then,
From these devourers to be banished?
But who comes with our brother Marcus here? Enter Marcus, and Lavinia.

Mar.
Titus, prepare thy noble 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.

Mar.
This † was thy daughter.

Tit.
Why, Marcus, so she is.

Luc.
Ah me! this object kills me!

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

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

Mar.
O, that delightful engine of her thoughts,
That blab'd them with such pleasing eloquence,
Is torn from forth that pretty hollow cage;
Where, like a sweet melodious bird, it sung
Sweet-vary'd notes, enchanting every ear.

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

Mar.
O, thus I found her, straying in the park,
Seeking to hide herself; as doth the deer,
That hath receiv'd some unrecuring wound.

Tit.
It was my deer; and he, that wounded her,
Hath hurt me more than had he kill'd me dead:
For now I stand as one upon a rock,
Environ'd with a wilderness of sea;

Who marks the ^note waxing tide grow wave by wave,
Expecting ever when some envious surge
Will in his brinish bowels swallow him.
This way to death my wretched sons are gone;
Here stands my other son, a banish'd man;
And here my brother, weeping at my woes:
But that, which gives my soul the greatest spurn,
Is dear Lavinia, dearer than my soul.—
Had I but seen thy picture in this plight,
It would have madded me; What shall I do,
Now I behold thy lively body so?
Thou hast no hands, to wipe away thy tears;
Nor tongue, to tell me who hath martyr'd thee:
Thy husband he is dead; and, for his death,
Thy brothers are condemn'd, and dead by this:—
Look, Marcus! ah, son Lucius, look on her!
When I did name her brothers, then fresh tears
Stood on her cheeks; as doth the honey dew
Upon a gather'd lilly almost wither'd.

Mar.
Perchance, she weeps because they kill'd her husband:
Perchance, because she knows them innocent ^note.

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; like meadows ^note, 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 shews
Pass the remainder of our hateful days?
What shall we do? let us, that have our tongues,
Plot some devise 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.

Mar.
Patience, dear niece;—good Titus, dry thine eyes.

Tit.
Ah, Marcus, Marcus, brother, well I wote,
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 true ^note 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.

Aar.
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 king my ^note hand;
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.

Mar.
Which of your hands hath not defended Rome,
And rear'd aloft the bloody battle-axe,
Writing destruction on the enemies' casque? ^note14Q1187
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.
Nay, come, agree whose hand shall go along,
For fear they dye before their pardon come.

Mar.
My hand shall go.

Luc.
By heaven, it shall not go.

Tit.
Sirs, strive no more; such wither'd 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.

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

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

Luc.
Then I'll go fetch an axe.

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

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

Aar.
If that be call'd deceit, I will be honest,
And never, whilst I live, deceive men so:—
&clquo;But I'll deceive you in another sort;&crquo;
&clquo;And that you'll say, ere half an hour pass.&crquo; [cuts off Titus' Hand. Re-enter Lucius, and Marcus.

Tit.
Now stay your strife: ^note what shall be, is dispatch'd.—
Good Aaron, give his majesty my hand: ^note
Tell him, it was a hand that warded him
From thousand dangers; bid him bury it;
More hath it merited, that let it have.
As for ^note my sons, say, I account of them
As jewels purchas'd 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:—
&clquo;Their heads, I mean. O, how this villany&crquo;
&clquo;Doth fat me with the very thought ^note of it!&crquo;
&clquo;Let fools do good, and fair men call for grace;&crquo;
&clquo;Aaron will have his soul black like his face.&crquo; [Exit, with Titus' Hand.

Tit.
O, here I lift this one hand up to heaven,
And bow this feeble ruin to the earth:
If any power pities wretched tears,
To that I call;—What, wilt thou ^note kneel with me? [to Lav.
Do then, dear heart; for heaven shall hear our prayers;
Or with our sighs we'll breath the welkin dim,
And stain the sun with fog, as sometime clouds,
When they do hug him in their melting bosoms.

Mar.
O brother, speak with possibilities,
And do not break into these deep extreams.

Tit.
Is not my sorrow deep, having no bottom?

Then be my passions bottomless with them.

Mar.
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,
Threat'ning 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:
For why? my bowels cannot hide her woes,
But like a drunkard must I vomit them.
Then give me leave; for losers will have leave
To ease their stomacks with their bitter tongues. Enter a Messenger, with two Heads, and a Hand.

Mes.
Worthy Andronicus, ill art thou repay'd
For that good hand thou sent'st the emperor.
Here are the &dagger2; heads of thy two noble sons;
And here's thy &dagger2; hand, in scorn to thee sent back;
Thy griefs their sports, thy resolution mock'd:
That woe is me to think upon thy woes,
More than remembrance of my father's death. [Exit Messenger.

Mar.
Now let hot Ætna cool in Sicily,
And be my heart an ever-burning hell!
These miseries are more than may be born:
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 breath!

Mar.
Alas, poor heart,14Q1188 that kiss is comfortless,
As frozen water to a starved snake.

Tit.
When will this fearful slumber have an end?

Mar.
Now, farewel, flattery!—Dye, Andronicus;
Thou dost not slumber: see, thy two sons' heads;
Thy warlike hand; ^note thy mangl'd daughter here;
Thy other banish'd son ^note, with this dear sight
Struck pale and bloodless; and thy brother, I,
Even like a stony image, cold and numb.
Ah, now no more will I controul thy griefs ^note:
Rent off thy silver hair, thy other hand
Gnaw with ^note thy teeth; and be this dismal sight
The closing up of our most wretched eyes:
Now is a time to storm; Why art thou still?

Tit.
Ha, ha, ha!

Mar.
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 watry eyes,
And make them blind with tributary tears;
Then which way shall I find revenge's cave?
For these two heads do seem to speak to me;
And threat me, I shall never come to bliss,
'Till all these mischiefs be return'd again,
Even in their throats that have committed them.
Come, let me see what task I have to do.
You heavy people, circle me about;
That I may turn me to each one of you,

And swear unto my soul to right your wrongs.
The vow is made. Come, brother, take a head;
And in this hand the other will I bear:
Lavinia ^note, thou shalt be employ'd in these things, ^note
Bear thou my hand, sweet wench, between thy arms. ^note14Q1189
As for thee, boy, go, get thee from my sight;
Thou art an exile, and thou must not stay:
Hye to the Goths, and raise an army there:
And, if you love me, as I think you do,
Let's kiss, and part, for we have much to do. [Exeunt Titus, Marcus, and Lavinia.

Luc.
Farewel, Andronicus, my noble father;
The woeful'st man that ever liv'd in Rome!
Farewel, proud Rome! 'till Lucius come again,
He leaves his ^note pledges dearer than his life.
Farewel, 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 Saturninus ^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 reveng'd on Rome and Saturnine. [Exit. ^note SCENE II. [Variant reading: The same. Room in Titus' House: Banquet set out. Enter Titus, and Marcus, with Lavinia, and a young Boy, Son to Lucius.

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 I ^note, poor creatures, want our hands,
And cannot passionate our ten-fold grief
With folded arms. This poor right hand of mine
Is left to tyrannize upon my breast;
And when ^note my heart, all mad with misery,
Beats in this hollow prison of my flesh,
Then thus † I thump it down.—
Thou map of woe, that thus dost talk in signs,
When thy poor heart beats with outragious beating,
Thou canst not strike it thus to make it still.
Wound it with sighing, girl, kill it with groans:
Or get some little knife between thy teeth,
And just against thy heart make thou a hole;
That all the tears, that thy poor eyes let fall,
May run into that sink, and, soaking in,
Drown the lamenting fool in sea-salt tears.

Mar.
Fye, brother, fye! teach her not thus to lay
Such violent hands upon her tender life.

Tit.
How now! has sorrow made thee doat 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.—
Fye, fye! how frantickly I square my talk!
As if we should forget we had no hands,
If Marcus did not name the word of hands!—
Come, let's fall to; and, gentle girl, eat &dagger2; this:—
Here is no drink!—Hark, Marcus, what she says;—

I can interpret all her martyr'd signs;—
She says, she drinks no other drink but tears,
Brew'd with her sorrow ^note, mesh'd upon her cheeks:—
Speechless complainer,14Q1190 I ^{note 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 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.

Mar.
Alas, the tender boy, in passion mov'd,
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.—
What dost thou strike at, Marcus, with thy ^note knife?

Mar.
At that that I have kill'd, my lord; a fly.

Tit.
Out on thee, 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.

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

Tit.
But! How if that fly had a father14Q1191, ^note sir?
How would he hang his slender gilded wings,
And buz lamenting dolings ^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.

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

Tit.
O, o! Then pardon me for reprehending thee,
For thou hast done a charitable deed.
Give me thy knife, I will insult on him;
Flattering myself ^note, as if it were the Moor,
Come hither purposely to poison me.—
There's † for thyself; and that's † for Tamora;
Ah, sirra!—
Why, yet, I think, we are not brought so low,
But that, between us, we can kill a fly,
That comes in likeness of a coal-black Moor.

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

Tit.
Come, ^note take away.—Lavinia, go with me:
I'll to thy closet; and go read with thee
Sad stories, chanced in the times of old.—
Come, boy, and go with me; thy sight is young,
And thou shalt read when mine begins ^note to dazzle. ACT IV. SCENE I. The same. Before Titus' House. Enter Titus, and Marcus. Then, Enter young Lucius, running; Lavinia after him.

Boy.
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.

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

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

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

Mar.
What means my niece Lavinia by these signs?

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

Mar.
Canst thou not guess14Q1192 wherefore she plies thee thus?

Boy.
My lord, I know not, I, nor can I guess,
Unless some fit or frenzy do possess her:
For I have heard my grandsire say full oft,
Extremity of griefs would make men mad;
And I have read, that Hecuba of Troy
Ran mad through sorrow: That made me to fear:
Although, my lord, I know, my noble aunt
Loves me as dear as e'er my mother did,
And would not, but in fury, fright my youth:
Which made me down to throw my books, and fly;
Causeless, perhaps:—But pardon me, sweet aunt:
And, madam, if my uncle Marcus go,
I will most willingly attend your ladyship.

Mar.
Lucius, I will.

Tit.
How now, Lavinia?—Marcus, what means this? [seeing her turn over the Books Lucius has let fall.
Some book there is, that she desires to see:—
Which is it, girl, of these?—Open them, boy.—
But thou art deeper read, and better skill'd;
Come, and take choice of all my library,
And so beguile thy sorrow, 'till the heavens
Reveal the damn'd contriver of this deed. ^note—
Why lifts she up her arms in sequence thus?

Mar.
I think, she means, that there was more than one
Confederate in the fact;—Ay, more there was:—

Or else to heaven she heaves them for revenge. ^note

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

Boy.
Grandsire, 'tis Ovid's Metamorphosis;
My mother gave it me.

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

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

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

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

Mar.
O, why should nature build so foul a den,
Unless the gods delight in tragedies!

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 in Lucrece' bed?

Mar.
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 can'st,

This † after me, when ^note I have writ my name
Without the help of any hand at all.— [He takes his Staff in his Mouth, and writes, guiding it with his Arms.
Curst be that heart that forc'd ^note us to this shift! ^note—
Write thou, good niece; and here display, at last,
What god will have discover'd for revenge:
Heaven guide thy pen to print thy sorrows plain,
That we may know the traitors, and the truth! Lavinia takes the Staff, and writes, using it as above.

Tit.
O, do you read, my lord, what she hath writ! ^note
Stuprum—Chiron—Demetrius.

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

Tit.
—Magne ^note dominator poli,
Tam lentus audis scelera? tam lentus vides?

Mar.
O, calm thee, gentle lord! although I know,
There is enough written upon this earth,
To stir a mutiny in the mildest thoughts,
And arm the minds of infants to exclaims.
My lord, kneel down with me; Lavinia, kneel;
And kneel, sweet boy, the Roman Hector's hope; [all kneel.
And swear with me,—as with the woeful feer,
And father, of that chast dishonour'd dame,
Lord Junius Brutus sware ^note for Lucrece' rape,—
That we will prosecute, by good advice,
Mortal revenge upon these trait'rous Goths,
And see their blood, or dye with this reproach.

Tit.
—'Tis sure enough, an you knew how.
But if you hunt these bear-whelps, then beware ^note:
The dam will wake; and, if she wind you once,

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're a young huntsman Marcus; let it alone.
And, come, I will go get a leaf of brass,
And with a gad of steel will write these words,
And lay it by: the angry northern wind
Will blow these sands, like Sibyl's leaves, abroad,
And where's your 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 yoak of Rome.

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

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

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

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

Tit.
No, boy, not so; I'll teach thee another course.—
Lavinia, come:—Marcus, look to my house:
Lucius and I'll go brave it at the court;
Ay, marry, will we, sir; and we'll be waited on. [Exeunt Boy, Titus, and Lavinia.

Mar.
O heavens, can you hear a good man groan,
And not relent, or not compassion him?
Marcus, attend him in his extasy;
That hath more scars of sorrow in his heart,
Than foe-men's marks upon his batter'd shield:
But yet so just, that he will not revenge:—

Revenge thee, heaven ^note, for old Andronicus! [Exit. SCENE II. The same. A Room in the Palace. Enter Demetrius, and Aaron; Chiron meeting them; with him, young Lucius, and an Attendant, 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;—
&clquo;And pray the Roman gods, confound you both.&crquo;

Dem.
Gramercy, lovely Lucius: What's the news?

&clquo;Boy. ^note
&clquo;That you are both decipher'd, that's the news,&crquo; ^note
&clquo;For villains ^note mark'd with rape.&crquo;—May it please you, lords,
My grandsire, well advis'd, hath sent by me
The goodliest weapons of his armory,
To gratify your honourable youth,
The hope of Rome; for so he bad me say,
And so I do; and with his gifts &dagger2; present
Your lordships, that, whenever you have need,
You may be armed and appointed well:
And so I leave you both,—&clquo;like bloody villains.&crquo; [Exeunt Boy, and Attendant.

Dem.
What's here? A scrowl; and written round about?
Let's see: [reads.
Integer vitæ, scelerisque purus,
Non eget ^note Mauri jaculis nec arcu. ^note

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

&clquo;Aar.
&clquo;Ay, just;—a verse in Horace;—right, you have it.&crquo;

&clquo;Now, what a thing it is, to be an ass!&crquo;
&clquo;Here's no fond jest ^note: the old man hath found their guilt;&crquo;
&clquo;And sends the weapons wrapt about with lines,&crquo;
&clquo;That wound, beyond their feeling, to the quick:&crquo;
&clquo;But, were our witty empress well a-foot,&crquo;
&clquo;She would applaud Andronicus' conceit.&crquo;
&clquo;But let her rest in her unrest a while.&crquo;—
And now, young lords, was't not a happy star
Led us to Rome, strangers, and, more than so,
Captives, to be advanced to this height?
It did me good, before the palace gate
To brave the tribune in his brother's hearing.

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 lust ^note.

Chi.
A charitable wish, and full of love.

Aar.
Here's lack but14Q1193 of your mother, 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.
Pray to the devils; the gods have given us over. [Trumpets within.

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

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

Dem.
Soft; who comes here? Enter a Nurse hastily, with a Child in her Arms.

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

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 caterwawling 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!

Aar.
To whom?

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

Aar.
Well, god
Give her good rest! What hath he sent her?

Nur.
A devil.

Aar.
Why, then she is the devil's dam; a joyful issue.

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

Aar.
Out on you, whore ^note! is black so base a hue!—
Sweet blowze, ^note you are a beauteous blossom, sure.

Dem.
Villain, what hast thou done?

Aar.
done! ^note that which thou
Canst not undo.

Chi.
Thou hast undone our mother.

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

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

Chi.
It shall not live.

Aar.
It shall not dye.

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. [taking the Child from the Nurse, and drawing.
Stay, murtherous 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 scymitar's sharp point,
That touches this my first-born son and heir!
I tell you, younglings, not Enceladus,
With all his threat'ning band of Typhon's brood,
Nor great Alcides, nor the god of war,
Shall seize this prey out of his father's hands.
What, what; ye sanguine ^note, shallow-hearted boys!
Ye white-lim'd ^note walls! ye alehouse painted signs!
Coal-black is better than another hue,
In that it scorns to bear another hue:
For all the water in the ocean
Can never turn the swan's black legs to white, ^note
Although she lave them hourly in the flood.—
Tell the emperess from me, I am of age
To keep mine own; excuse it how she can.

Dem.
Wilt thou betray thy noble mistress thus?

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

Dem.
By this our mother is for ever sham'd.

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

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

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

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.

Dem.
How many women saw this child of his?

Aar.
Why, so, brave lords; When we all ^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 Aaron ^note storms.—
But, say again, how many saw the child?

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

Aar.
The emperess, the midwife, and yourself.
Two may keep counsel, when the ^note third's away:
Go to the empress; tell her, this † I said:— [kills her.

Weke, weke!—so cries a pig, prepar'd to the spit.

Dem.
What mean'st thou, Aaron? Wherefore didst thou this?

Aar.
O lord, sir, 'tis a deed of policy:
Shall she live, to betray this guilt ^note of ours,
A long-tongu'd babling gossip? no, lords, no.
And now be it known to you my full intent.
Not far, one Muliteus lives, my countryman:
His wife but yesternight was brought to bed;
His child is like to her, fair as you are:
Go, pack with him, and give the mother gold,
And tell them both the circumstance of all;
And how by this their child shall be advanc'd,
And be received for the emperor's heir,
And substituted in the place of mine,
To calm this tempest whirling in the court;
And let the emperor dandle him for his own.
But, hark ye, lords; Ye see, I have given her physick,
And you must needs bestow her funeral;
The fields are near, and you are gallant grooms:
This done, see that you take no longer days,
But send the midwife presently to me.
The midwife, and the nurse, well made away,
Then let the ladies tattle what they please.

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

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

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-lip'd slave, I'll bear you hence;

For it is you that puts us ^note to our shifts:
I'll make you feed on berries and on roots,
And feast on ^note 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. SCENE III. The same. A publick Place. Enter Titus, carrying Arrows, with Letters on the Ends of them; with him, certain Gentlemen of his Kindred, Marcus, and young Lucius, bearing Bows.

Tit.
Come, Marcus, come;—Kinsmen, this is the way:—
Sir boy, now ^note let me see your archery;
Look, ye draw home enough, and 'tis there straight.—
—Terras Astræa reliquit:—
Be you remember'd, Marcus; she's gone, she's fled.—
Sirs, take you to your tools.—You, cousins, shall
Go sound the ocean, and cast your nets;
Hapily ^note, you may find her in the sea.
Yet there's as little justice as at land:—
No; Publius, and Sempronius, you must do it:
'Tis you must dig with mattock, and with spade,
And pierce the inmost centre of the earth:
Then, when you come to Pluto's region,
I pray you to deliver him this petition:
Tell him, it is for justice, and for aid;
And that it comes from old Andronicus,
Shaken with sorrows in ungrateful Rome.—
Ah, Rome!—Well, well; I made thee miserable,
What time I threw the people's suffrages
On him that thus doth tyrannize o'er me.—
Go, get you gone: and, pray, be careful all,

And leave you not a man of war unsearcht;
This wicked emperor may have ship'd her hence,
And, kinsmen, then we may go pipe for justice.

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

1. G.
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.

Mar.
Kinsmen, his sorrows are past remedy.
Join with the Goths; and, with revengeful war,
Take wreak on Rome for this ingratitude,
And vengeance on the traitor Saturnine.

Tit.
Publius, how now? how now, my masters? Well;
What, have you met with her?

1. G.
No, my good lord: but Pluto sends you word,
If you will have revenge from hell, you shall:
Marry, for justice, she is so employ'd,
He thinks, with Jove in heaven, or somewhere else,
So that ^note 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-bon'd men, fram'd of the Cyclops' size:
But metal, Marcus, steel to the very back;
Yet wrung with wrongs, more than our backs ^note can bear:—
And. sith there is no justice in earth nor hell;
We will solicit heaven; and move the gods,
To send down justice for to wreak our wrongs:
Come, to this gear.—You're a good archer, Marcus; [pulling out his Arrows.

Ad Jovem, that's &dagger2; for you:—Here, &dagger2; ad Apollinem ^note:—
Ad Martem,—O, that's for myself:—
Here, &dagger2; boy, to Pallas:—Here, &dagger2; to Mercury:—
To Saturn, &dagger2; Caius ^note;14Q1194 not to Saturnine,
You were as good to shoot against the wind.—
To it, my boys.—Marcus, loose when I bid.—
Sirs, o' my word, I have written to effect;
There's not a god left unsollicited.

Mar.
Kinsmen, shoot all your shafts into the court;
We will afflict the emperor in his pride.

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

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

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

Mar.
This was the sport, my lord: when Publius shot,
The bull, being gall'd, gave Aries such a knock
That down fell both the ram's horns in the court;
And who should find them, but the empress' villain:
She laugh'd, and told the Moor, he should not choose
But give them to his master for a present.

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

Clo.

Ho! the ^note gibbet-maker? he says, that he hath taken them down again; for the man must not be hang'd 'till the next week.

Tit.

But what ^note says Jupiter, I ask thee?

Clo.

Alas, sir, I know not Jupiter; I never drank

with him in all my life.

Tit.

Why, villain, art not thou the carrier?

Clo.

Ay, of my pigeons, sir; nothing else.

Tit.

Why, did'st not thou ^note come from heaven?

Clo.

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

Mar.

Why, sir, this 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;—mean while here's &dagger2; money for thy charges.—
Give me a ^note pen and ink.—
Sirrah, can you with a grace deliver a supplication?

Clo.

Ay, sir.

Tit.

Then here &dagger2; 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 the emperor,
Knock at my door, and tell me what he says.

Clo.
God be with you, sir; I will.

Tit.
Come, Marcus, let us go:—Publius, follow me. [Exeunt. SCENE IV. The same. Before the Palace. Enter Saturnine, and Tamora, attended; Saturnine with the Arrows in his Hand, that Titus shot.

Sat.
Why, lords, what wrongs are these? was ever seen
An emperor ^note in Rome thus over-born,
Troubl'd, confronted thus; and, for the extent
Of egal ^note justice, us'd in such contempt?
My lords, you know, as do the mightful gods,
(However these disturbers of our peace
Buz in the people's ears) there nought hath pass'd,
But even with law, against the wilful sons
Of old Andronicus. And what an if
His sorrows have so overwhelm'd his wits;
Shall we be thus afflicted in his freaks, ^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 scrowls, to fly about the streets of Rome!
What's this, but libelling against the senate, ^note
And blazoning our injustice ^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 extasies ^note
Shall be no shelter to these outrages:

But he and his shall know, that justice lives
In Saturninus' health ^note; who, if ^note he sleep,14Q1195
He'll so awake, as he in fury shall
Cut off the proud'st conspirator that lives.

Tam.
My gracious lord, my lovely Saturnine,
Lord of my life, commander of my thoughts,
Calm thee, and bear the faults of Titus' age, ^note
The effects of sorrow for his valiant sons,
Whose loss hath pierc'd him deep, and scar'd his heart;
And rather pity his distressed plight,
Than prosecute the meanest, or the best,
For these contempts.—&clquo;Why, thus it shall become&crquo;
&clquo;High-witted ^note Tamora to gloze with all:&crquo;
&clquo;But, Titus, I have touch'd thee to the quick,&crquo;
&clquo;Thy life-blood out: ^note if Aaron now be wise,&crquo;
&clquo;Then is all safe, the anchor's in the port.&crquo;— Enter Clown.
How now, good fellow? would'st thou speak with us?

Clo.
Yea, forsooth, an your mistership be emperial.

Tam.
Empress I am, but yonder sits the emperor.

Clo.

'Tis he.—God, and saint Stephen, give you good den: I have brought you a letter, and a couple of pigeons here.

Sat.

Go, take him away, and hang him presently.

Clo.

How much money must I have?

Tam.

Come, sirrah, you must be hang'd.

Clo.

Hang'd! By'r-lady ^note, then I have brought up a neck to a fair end.

Sat.
Despightful and intolerable wrongs!
Shall I endure this monstrous villany?
I know from whence this same device proceeds:—
May this be born?—as if his traitr'ous sons,

That dy'd by law for murther of our brother,
Have by my means been butcher'd wrongfully.—
Go, drag the villain hither by the hair;
Nor age, nor honour, shall shape priviledge:—
For this proud mock I'll be thy slaughter-man,
Sly frantick wretch; that holp'st to make me great,
In hope thyself should govern Rome and me. Enter Æmilius.
What news with thee, Æmilius?

Æmi.
Arm, arm, my lords; ^note Rome never had more cause!
The Goths have gather'd head; and, with a power
Of high-resolved men, bent to the spoil,
They hither march amain, under condúct ^note
Of Lucius, son to old Andronicus;
Who threats, in course of this revenge ^note, to do
As much as ever Coriolanus did.

Sat.
Is warlike Lucius general of the Goths?
These tidings nip me; and I hang the head,
As flowers with frost, or grass beat down with storms.
Ay, now begin ^note our sorrows to approach:
'Tis he, the common people love so much;
Myself hath often over-heard them say,
(When I have walked like a private man)
That Lucius' banishment was wrongfully,
And they have wish'd that Lucius were their emperor.

Tam.
Why should you fear? is not your city ^note strong?

Sat.
Ay, but the citizens favour Lucius;
And will revolt from me, to succour him.

Tam.
King, be thy thoughts imperious, like thy name.
Is the sun dim'd, that gnats do fly in it?
The eagle suffers little birds to sing,
And is not careful what they mean thereby;

Knowing, that, with the shadow of his wings,
He can at pleasure stint their melody:
Even so may'st thou the giddy men of Rome.
Then chear thy spirit: for know, thou emperor,
I will enchant the old Andronicus,
With words more sweet, and yet more dangerous,
Than baits to fish, or honey-stalks to sheep;
When as the one is wounded with the bait,
The other rotted with delicious feed. ^note

Sat.
But he will not entreat his son for us.

Tam.
If Tamora entreat him, then he will:
For I can smooth ^note, and fill his aged ear
With golden promises; that were his heart
Almost impregnable, his old ears ^note deaf,
Yet should both ear and heart obey my tongue.—
Go thou before, [to Æmi.] be ^note our ^note embassador;
Say, that the emperor requests a parley
Of warlike Lucius, and appoint the meeting.

Sat.
Æmilius, do this message honourably:
And if he stand on hostage ^note for his safety,
Bid him demand what pledge will please him best.

Æmi.
Your bidding shall I do effectually. [Exit.

Tam.
Now will I to that old Andronicus;
And temper him with all ^note the art I have,
To pluck proud Lucius from the warlike Goths.
And now, sweet emperor, be blith again,
And bury all thy fear in my devices.

Sat.
Then go incessantly ^note, and plead to him ^note. [Exeunt. ACT V. SCENE I. Plains near Rome.

Enter, with Drum and Colours, Lucius, and Goths.

Luc.
Approved warriors, and my faithful friends,
I have received letters from great Rome,
Which signify ^note, what hate they bear their emperor,
And how desirous of our sight they are.
Therefore, great lords, be, as your titles witness,
Imperious, and impatient of your wrongs;
And, wherein Rome hath done you any scathe,
Let him make treble satisfaction.

1. G.
Brave slip, sprung from the great Andronicus,
Whose name was once our terror, now our comfort;
Whose high exploits, and honourable deeds,
Ingrateful Rome requites with foul contempt;
Be bold in ^note us: we'll follow where thou lead'st,—
Like stinging bees in hottest summer's day,
Led by their master to the flowred fields,—
And be aveng'd on cursed Tamora ^note

Got.
And, as he saith, so say we all with him.

Luc.
I humbly thank him, and I thank you all.
But who comes here, led by a lusty Goth? Enter a Goth, leading Aaron, with his Child in his Arms.

2. G.
Renowned Lucius, from our troops I stray'd,
To gaze upon a ruinous monastery;
And, as I earnestly did fix mine eye
Upon the wasted building, suddenly
I heard a child cry underneath a wall:
I made unto the noise; when soon I heard
The crying babe controul'd with this discourse:
Peace, tawny slave; half me, and half thy dam!
Did not thy hue bewray whose brat thou art,

Had nature lent thee but thy mother's look,
Villain, thou might'st have been an emperor:
But where the bull and cow are both milk-white,
They never do beget a coal-black calf.
Peace, villain, peace!—even thus he rates the babe,—
For I must bear thee to a trusty Goth;
Who, when he knows thou art the empress' babe,
Will hold thee dearly for thy mother's sake.
With this, my weapon drawn, I rush'd upon him,
Surpriz'd him suddenly; and brought him hither,
To use as you think needful of the man.

Luc.
O worthy Goth! this is the incarnate devil,
That rob'd Andronicus of his good hand:
This is the pearl that pleas'd your empress' eye;
And here's the base fruit of his burning ^note lust.—
Say, wall-ey'd slave, whither would'st thou convey
This growing image of thy fiend-like face?
Why dost not speak? What, deaf? No; ^note not a word?—
A halter, soldiers; hang him on this tree,
And by his side his fruit of bastardy.

Aar.
Touch not the boy, he is of royal blood.

Luc.
Too like the sire for ever being good.—
First, hang the child, that he may see it sprawl;
A sight to vex the father's soul withal.
Get me a ladder.14Q1196 [Ladder brought: Aaron led up it.

Aar.
Lucius, save the child;
And bear it from me to the emperess.
If thou do this, I'll shew thee wondrous things,
That highly may advantage thee to hear:
If thou wilt not, befal what may befal,
I'll speak no more; But vengeance rot you all!

Luc.
Say, on; and, if it please me which thou speak'st,

Thy child shall live, and I will see it nourish'd.

Aar.
An if it please thee? why, assure thee, Lucius,
'Twill vex thy soul to hear what I shall speak.
For I must talk of murthers, rapes, and massacres,
Acts of black night, ^note abominable deeds,
Complots of mischief, treason; villanies ^note
Ruthful to hear, yet piteously perform'd:
And this shall all be bury'd by my death,
Unless thou swear to me, my child shall live.

Luc.
Tell on thy mind; I say, thy child shall live.

Aar.
Swear that he shall, and then I will begin.

Luc.
Who should I swear by? thou believ'st no god;
That granted, how canst thou believe an oath?

Aar.
What if I do not? as, indeed, I do not:
Yet,—for I know thou art religious,
And hast a thing within thee, called conscience;
With twenty popish tricks and ceremonies,
Which I have seen thee careful to observe,—
Therefore I urge thy oath:—For that, I know,
An ideot holds his bauble for a god;
And keeps the oath, which by that god he swears;
To that I'll urge him:—Therefore thou shalt vow
By that same god,—what god soe'er it be,
That thou ador'st and hast in reverence,—
To save my boy, nourish ^note, and bring him up;
Or else I will discover nought to thee.

Luc.
Even by my god I swear to thee, I will.

Aar.
First, know thou, I begot him on the empress ^note.

Luc.
O most insatiate luxurious woman!

Aar.
Tut, Lucius! this was but a deed of charity,
To that which thou shalt hear of me anon.
Twas ^note her two sons, that murther'd Bassianus:

They cut thy sister's tongue, and ravish'd her,
And cut her hands off; ^note trim'd ^note her as thou saw'st.

Luc.
O détestable villain! call'st thou that trimming?

Aar.
Why, she was wash'd, and cut, and trim'd; and 'twas
Trim sport for them that had the doing of it.

Luc.
O barbarous beastly villains, like thyself!

Aar.
Indeed, I was their tutor to instruct them:
That codding spirit had they from their mother,
As sure a card as ever won the set;
That bloody mind, I think, they learn'd of me,
As true a dog as ever fought at head.
Well, let my deeds be witness of my worth.
I train'd thy brethren to that guileful hole,
Where the dead corps of Bassianus lay:
I wrote the letter that thy father found,
And hid the gold within the letter mention'd,
Confederate with the queen, and her two sons:
And what not done, that thou hast cause to rue,
Wherein I had no stroke of mischief in it?
I play'd the cheater for thy father's hand;
And, when I had it, drew myself apart,
And almost broke my heart with extream laughter:
I pry'd me through the crevice ^note of a wall,
When, for his hand, he had his two sons' heads;
Beheld his tears, and laugh'd so heartily,
That both mine eyes were rainy like to his;
And when I told the empress of this sport,
She swooned ^note almost at my pleasing tale,
And, for my tidings, gave me twenty kisses.

1. G.
What! can'st thou say all this, and never blush?

Aar.
Ay, like a black dog, as the saying is.

Luc.
Art thou not sorry for these heinous deeds?

Aar.
Ay, that I had not done a thousand more.
Even now I curse the day, (and yet, I think,
Few come within the compass ^note of my curse)
Wherein I did not some notorious ill:
As kill a man, or else devise his death;
Ravish a maid, or plot the way to do it;
Accuse some innocent, and forswear myself:
Set deadly enmity between two friends;
Make poor men's cattle break their necks; set fire
On barns and hay-stacks in the night, and bid
The wretched owners quench them with their tears ^note:
Oft have I dig'd up dead men from their graves,
And set them upright at their dear friends' doors, ^note
Even when their sorrow ^note almost was forgot;
And on their skins, as on the bark of trees,
Have with my knife carved in Roman letters,
Let not your sorrow dye, though I am dead.
Tut, I have done a thousand dreadful things,
As willingly as one would kill a fly;
And nothing grieves me heartily indeed,
But that I cannot do ten thousand more.

Luc.
Bring down the devil; for he must not dye
So sweet a death, as hanging presently.

Aar.
If there be devils, 'would I were a devil,
To live and burn in everlasting fire;
So I might have your company in hell,
But to torment you with my bitter tongue!

Luc.
Sirs, stop his mouth, and let him speak no more. Enter a Goth.

3. G.
My lord, there is a messenger from Rome,
Desires to be admitted to your presence.

Luc.
Let him come near. [Exit Goth.

Enter Æmilius.
Welcome, Æmilius: What's the ^note news from Rome?

Æmi.
Lord Lucius, and you princes of the Goths,
The Roman emperor greets you all by me:
And for he understands you are in arms,
He craves a parley at your father's house;
Willing you to demand your hostages,
And they shall be immediately deliver'd.

1. G.
What says our general?

Luc.
Æmilius, let the emperor give his pledges
Unto my father, and my uncle Marcus,
And we will come.—Away. [March. Exeunt. ^note SCENE II. Rome. Court of Titus' House. Enter, in disguis'd Attirements, Tamora, Chiron, and Demetrius.

Tam.
Thus, in this strange and sad habiliment, ^note
I will encounter with Andronicus;
And say, I am revenge, sent from below,
To join with him, and right his heinous wrongs.
Knock at his study, where, they say, he keeps,
To ruminate strange plots of dire revenge;
Tell him, revenge is come to join with him,
And work confusion on his enemies. [They knock. Enter Titus, above.

Tit.
Who doth molest my contemplation?
Is it your trick, to make me ope the door;
That so my sad decrees may fly away,
And all my study be to no effect?
You are deceiv'd: for what I mean to do,
See † here, in bloody lines I have set down;
And what is written shall be executed.

Tam.
Lord Titus, I am come to talk with thee.

Tit.
No; not a word; How can I grace my talk,
Wanting a hand to give it ^note that accord? ^note
Thou hast the odds of me, therefore no more.

Tam.
If thou did'st know me, thou would'st talk with me.

Tit.
I am not mad; I know thee well enough:
Witness this wretched stump, these ^note crimson lines;14Q1197
Witness these trenches, made by grief and care;
Witness the tiring day, and heavy night;
Witness all sorrow, that I know thee well
For our proud empress, mighty Tamora:
Is not thy coming for my other hand?

Tam.
Know, thou sad man, I am not Tamora;
She is thy enemy, and I thy friend:
I am revenge; sent from the infernal kingdom,
To ease the gnawing vulture of thy mind ^note,
By working wreakful vengeance on thy foes. ^note
Come down, and welcome me to this world's light;
Confer with me of murder and of death:
There's not a hollow cave, or lurking place,
No vast obscurity, or misty vale,
Where bloody murther, or detested rape,
Can couch for fear, but I will find them out;
And in their ears tell them my dreadful name,
Revenge, which makes the foul offenders quake.

Tit.
Art thou revenge? and art thou sent to me,
To be a torment to mine enemies?

Tam.
I am; therefore come down, and welcome me.

Tit.
Do me some service, ere I come to thee.
Lo, by thy side where rape, and murder, stands:
Now give some 'surance that thou art revenge,
Stab them, or tear them on thy chariot wheels;

And then I'll come, and be thy waggoner,
And whirl along with thee about the globes.
Provide two ^note proper palfries, black as ^note jet,
To hale thy vengeful waggon swift away,
And find out murderers in ^note their guilty caves: ^note
And, when thy car is loaden with their heads,
I will dismount, and by the waggon wheel
Trot, like a servile footman, all day long;
Even from Hyperion's ^note rising in the east,
Until his very downfal in the sea.
And day by day I'll do this heavy task,
So thou destroy rapine and murder there.

Tam.
These are my ministers, and come with me.

Tit.
Are they thy ^note ministers? what are they call'd?

Tam.
Rapine, and ^note murder: therefore called so,
'Cause they take vengeance on such kind of men.

Tit.
Good lord, how like the empress' sons they are!
And you, the empress! But we worldly men
Have miserable, mad, mistaking eyes.
O sweet revenge, now do I come to thee:
And, if one arm's embracement will content thee,
I will embrace thee in it by and by. [Exit from above.

Tam.
This closing with him fits his lunacy:
Whate'er I forge, to feed his brain-sick fits,
Do you uphold and máintain in your speeches.
For now he firmly takes me for revenge:
And, being credulous in this mad thought,
I'll make him send for Lucius his son;
And, whilst I at a banquet hold him sure,
I'll find some cunning practise out of hand,
To scatter and disperse the giddy Goths,
Or, at the least, make them his enemies.

See, here he comes, and I must ply my ^note theme. Enter Titus.

Tit.
Long have I been forlorn, and all for thee:
Welcome, dread fury, to my woeful house;—
Rapine, and murther, you are welcome too:—
How like the empress and her sons you are!
Well are you fitted, had you but a Moor:—
Could not all hell afford you such a devil?—
For, well I wote, the empress never wags,
But in her company there is a Moor;
And, would you represent our queen aright,
It were convenient you had such a devil:
But welcome, as you are. What shall we do?

Tam.
What would'st thou have us do, Andronicus?

Dem.
Shew me a murtherer, I'll deal with him.

Chi.
Shew me a villain that hath done a rape,
And I am sent to be reveng'd on him.

Tam.
Shew me a thousand that have done thee wrong,
And I will be ^note revenged on them all.

Tit.
Look round about the wicked streets of Rome;
And, when thou find'st a man that's like thyself,
Good murther, stab him; he's a murtherer.—
Go thou with him; and, when it is thy hap
To find another that is like to thee,
Good rapine, stab him; he is a ravisher.—
Go thou with them; and in the emperor's court
There is a queen, attended by a Moor;
Well may'st thou know her by thy own proportion,
For up and down she doth resemble thee;
I pray thee, do on them some violent death,
They have been violent to me and mine.

Tam.
Well hast thou lesson'd us; this shall we do.

But would it please thee ^note, good Andronicus,
To send for Lucius thy thrice valiant son,
Who leads towards Rome a band of warlike Goths,
And bid him come and banquet at thy house;
When he is here, even at thy solemn feast,
I will bring in the empress, and her sons,
The emperor himself, and all thy foes;
And at thy mercy shall they stoop and kneel,
And on them shalt thou ease thy angry heart:
What says Andronicus to this devise?

Tit.
Marcus, my brother! 'tis sad Titus calls. Enter Marcus.
Go, gentle Marcus, to thy nephew Lucius;
Thou shalt enquire him out among the Goths:
Bid him repair to me, and bring with him
Some of the chiefest princes of the Goths;
Bid him encamp his soldiers where they are:
Tell him, the emperor and the empress too
Feast ^note at my house; and he shall feast with them.
This do thou for my love; and so let him,
As he regards his aged father's life.

Mar.
This will I do, and soon return again. [Exit Marcus.

Tam.
Now will I hence about thy business,
And take my ministers along with me.

Tit.
Nay, nay, let rape and murder stay with me;
Or else I'll call my brother back again,
And cleave to no revenge but Lucius.

&clquo;Tam.
&clquo;What say you, boys? will you abide with him,&crquo;
&clquo;Whiles I go tell my lord the emperor,&crquo;
&clquo;How I have govern'd our determin'd jest?&crquo;
&clquo;Yield to his humour, smooth and speak him fair,&crquo;

&clquo;And tarry with him 'till I turn again.&crquo;

&clquo;Tit.
&clquo;I know them all, though they suppose me mad;&crquo;
&clquo;And will o'er-reach them in their own devises,&crquo;
&clquo;A pair of cursed hell-hounds, and their dam.&crquo;

&clquo;Dem.
&clquo;Madam, depart at pleasure, leave us here.&crquo;

Tam.
Farewel, Andronicus: revenge now goes
To lay a complot to betray thy foes.

Tit.
I know, thou dost; and, sweet revenge, farewel. [Exit Tamora.

Chi.
Tell us, old man, how shall we be employ'd?

Tit.
Tut, I ^note have work enough for you to do.—
Publius, come hither, Caius, and Valentine! Enter certain Gentlemen, ^note and Domesticks.

1. G.
What is your will?

Tit.
Know you these two?

1. G.
The empress' sons,
I take them, Chiron, and Demetrius.

Tit.
Fie, Publius, fie! thou art too much deceiv'd;
The one is murder, rape is the other's name:
And therefore bind them, gentle Publius;
Caius, and Valentine, lay hands on them:
Oft have you heard me wish for such an hour,
And now I find it: therefore bind them sure;
And stop their mouths, if they begin to cry. ^note [Gentlemen &c. lay Hands on them. Exit Titus.

Chi.
Villains, forbear; we are the empress' sons.

1. G.
And therefore do we what we are commanded.—
Stop close their mouths, let them not speak a word:
Is he sure bound? look, that you bind them fast. Re-enter Titus, with Lavinia; Titus bearing a Knife, and she a Bason.

Tit.
Come, come, Lavinia; look, thy foes are bound:—

Sirs, stop their mouths, let them not speak to me;
But let them hear what fearful words I utter.—
O villains, Chiron and Demetrius,
Here † stands the spring whom you have stain'd with mud;
This goodly summer with your winter mix'd.
You kill'd her husband; and, for that vile fault,
Two of her brothers were condemn'd to death:
My hand cut off, and made a merry jest:
Both her sweet hands, her tongue, and that, more dear
Than hands or tongue, her spotless chastity,
Inhuman traitors, you constrain'd and forc'd.
What would you say, if I should let you speak?
Villains, for shame you could not beg for grace.
Hark, wretches, how I mean to martyr you.
This one hand yet is left to cut your throats ^note;
Whilst that Lavinia 'tween her stumps doth hold
The bason, that receives your guilty blood.
You know, your mother ^note means to feast with me,
And calls herself revenge, and thinks me mad,—
Hark, villains; I will grind your bones to dust,
And with your blood, and it, I'll make a paste;
And of the paste a coffin I will rear,
And make two pasties of your shameful heads;
And bid that strumpet, your unhallow'd dam,
Like to the earth, swallow her own ^note encrease.
This is the feast that I have bid her to,
And this the banquet she shall surfeit on;
For worse than Philomel you us'd my daughter,
And worse than Progne I will be reveng'd:
And now prepare your throats.—Lavinia, come, [cuts their Throats.
Receive the blood: and, when that they are dead,

Let me go grind their bones to powder small,
And with this hateful liquor temper it;
And in that paste let their vile heads be bak'd.
Come, come, be every one ^note officious
To make this banquet; which I wish might prove
More stern and bloody than the Centaur's ^note feast.
So, now bring in; for I will play ^note the cook,
And see them ready 'gainst ^note their mother ^note comes. [Exeunt, bearing in the Bodies. SCENE III. 14Q1198 The same. Gardens of the same. A magnificent Pavillion; Tables under it; Domesticks attending. Enter Lucius, and Goths, Marcus with him; and Aaron, Prisoner.

Luc.
Why, uncle Marcus, since 'tis my father's mind,
That I repair to Rome, I am content.

1. G.
And ours with thine, befall what fortune will.

Luc.
Good uncle, take you in this barbarous Moor,
This ravenous tiger, this accursed devil;
Let him receive no sustenance, fetter him,
'Till he be brought unto the emperor's face,
For testimony of her foul ^note proceedings:
And see the ambush of our friends be strong;
I fear, the ^note emperor means no good to us.

Aar.
Some devil whisper curses in mine ear; ^note
And prompt me, that my tongue may utter forth
The venomous malice of my swelling heart!

Luc.
Away, inhuman dog, unhallow'd slave!—
Sirs, help our uncle to convey him in.— [Attendants lead in Aaron. Trumpets within.
The trumpets shew the emperor is at hand.

Flourish. Enter Saturninus, and Tamora; with a great Train of Senators, Tribunes, and others.

Sat.
What, hath the firmament more suns ^note than one?

Luc.
What boots it thee, to ^note call thyself a sun?

Mar.
Rome's emperor, and nephew, break the parle ^note;
These quarrels must be quietly debated.
The feast is ready, which the careful Titus
Hath órdain'd to an honourable end,
For peace, for love, for league, and good to Rome:
Please you, therefore, draw nigh, and take your places.

Sat.
Marcus, we will. [Company sit to Table. Musick. Enter Titus, and Others, and Lavinia veil'd: Titus, habited like a Cook, places the Dishes.

Tit.
Welcome, my gracious lord;—welcome, dread queen;
Welcome, ye warlike Goths;—Lucius, welcome ^note;—
And welcome, all: although the cheer be poor,
'Twill fill your stomacks; please you, eat of it.

Sat.
Why art thou thus attir'd, Andronicus?

Tit.
Because I would be sure to have all well,
To entertain your highness, and your empress.

Tam.
We are beholding to you, good Andronicus.

Tit.
An if your highness knew my heart, you were.—
My lord the emperor, resolve me this;
Was it well done of rash Virginius,
To slay his daughter with his own right hand,
Because she was enforc'd, stain'd, and deflour'd?

Sat.
It was, Andronicus.

Tit.
Your reason, mighty lord?

Sat.
Because the girl should not survive her shame,
And by her presence still renew his sorrows.

Tit.
A mighty reason ^note, strong, and effectual;
A pattern, precedent, and lively warrant,

For me, most wretched, to perform the like:—
Dye, dye, Lavinia, and thy shame with thee; [kills Lavinia.
And, with thy shame, thy father's sorrow dye!

Sat.
What hast thou ^note done, unnatural, and unkind?

Tit.
Kill'd her, for whom my tears have made me blind.
I am as woeful as Virginius was:
And have a thousand times more cause than he,
To do this outrage; and it is now done. ^note

Sat.
What, was she ravish'd? tell, who did the deed.

Tit.
Wilt ^note please you eat? wilt please your highness feed?

Tam.
Why hast thou ^note slain thine only daughter thus?

Tit.
Not I; 'twas Chiron, and Demetrius:
They ravish'd her, and cut away her tongue;
And they 'twas, they, that did her all this wrong.

Sat.
Go, fetch them hither to us presently.

Tit.
Why, there they are both, baked in that pye;
Whereof their mother daintily hath fed,
Eating the flesh that she herself hath bred.
'Tis true, 'tis true; witness my knife's sharp point. [killing Tamora.

Sat.
Dye, frantick wretch, for this accursed deed. [killing Titus.

Luc.
Can the son's eye behold his father bleed?—
There's meed for meed, death for a deadly deed. [killing Saturnine. Company in Confusion. A great Tumult: the Andronici, and their Friends, gain the Steps of Titus' House: Tumult ceases.

Mar.
You sad-fac'd men, people and sons of Rome,
By uproars ^note sever'd, like a flight of fowl

Scatter'd by winds and high tempestuous gusts, ^note
O, let me teach you how to knit again
This scatter'd corn into one mutual sheaf,
These broken limbs again into one body:
Lest Rome ^note herself14Q1199 be bane unto herself;
And she, whom mighty kingdoms court'sy to,
Like a forlorn and desperate cast-away,
Do shameful execution on herself.
But if my frosty signs and chaps of age,
Grave witnesses of true experience,
Cannot induce you to attend my words,—
Speak, Rome's dear friend; as erst our ancestor,
When with his solemn tongue he did discourse,
To love-sick Dido's sad attending ear,
The story of that baleful burning night,
When subtle Greeks surpriz'd king Priam's Troy;
Tell us, what Sinon hath bewitch'd our ears,
Or who hath brought the fatal engine in,
That gives our Troy, our Rome, the civil wound.—
My heart is not compact of flint, nor steel;
Nor can I utter all our bitter grief,
But floods of tears will drown my oratory,
And break my very utterance; even i' the time
When it should move you to attend me most,
Lending your kind commiseration ^note:
Here † is a captain, let him tell the tale;
Your hearts will throb and weep to hear him speak.

Luc.
Then, noble ^note auditory, be it known to you,
That cursed Chiron and Demetrius
Were they that murdered our emperor's brother;
And they it was, that ^note ravished our sister:
For their fell faults our brothers were beheaded;

Our father's tears despis'd; and basely cozen'd
Of that true hand, that fought Rome's quarrel out,
And sent her enemies unto the grave.
Lastly, myself unkindly banished,—
The gates shut on me,—and turn'd weeping out,
To beg relief among Rome's enemies;
Who drown'd their enmity in my true tears,
And op'd their arms to embrace me as a friend:
And I am the ^note turn'd-forth, be it known to you,
That have preserv'd her welfare in my blood;
And from her bosom took the enemy's point,
Sheathing the steel in my advent'rous body:
Alas, you know, I am no vaunter, I;
My scars can witness, dumb although they are,
That my report is just, and full of truth.
But, soft, methinks, I do digress too much,
Citing my worthless praise: O, pardon me;
For, when no friends are by, men praise themselves.

Mar.
Now is my turn to speak; Behold this child, [shewing it in the Arms of an Attendant.
Of this was Tamora delivered;
The issue of an irreligious Moor,
Chief architect and plotter of these woes;
The villain is alive in Titus' house,
Damn'd as ^note he is, to witness this is true.
Now judge, what cause had ^note Titus to revenge
These wrongs, unspeakable, past patience,
Or more than any living man could bear.
Now you have heard the truth, what say you, Romans?
Have we done aught amiss? Shew us wherein,
And, from the place14Q1200 where you behold us now,
The poor remainder of the Andronici ^note

Will, hand in hand, all headlong cast us down,
And on the ragged stones beat forth our brains,
And make a mutual closure of our house.
Speak, Romans, speak; and, if you say, we shall,
Lo, hand in hand, Lucius and I will fall.

1. R.
Come down, come down, thou reverent man of Rome,
And bring our emperor gently in thy hand,
Lucius our emperor; for, well I know,
The common voice doth cry ^note, it shall be so.

Rom.
Lucius, all hail; Rome's royal emperor!

Mar.
Go, go into old Titus' sorrowful house; [to Attendants.
And hither hale that misbelieving Moor,
To be adjudg'd some direful slaughtering death,
As punishment for his most wicked life. Lucius, and the rest, come down; with them, young Lucius.

Rom.
Lucius, all hail; Rome's gracious governor!—

Luc.
Thanks, gentle Romans; May I govern so,
To heal Rome's harms, and wipe away her woe!
But, gentle people, give me aim a while,—
For nature puts me to a heavy task;—
Stand all aloof;—but, uncle, draw you near,
To shed obsequious tears upon this † trunk:— [kneels over Titus' Body.
O, take this warm kiss on thy pale ^note cold lips,
These sorrowful drops upon thy blood-stain'd ^note face,
The last true duties of thy noble son!

Mar.
A ^note tear for tear, and loving kiss for kiss, [kneeling by him.
Thy brother Marcus tenders on thy lips:
O, were the sum of these that I should pay

Countless and infinite, yet would I pay them!

Luc.
Come hither, boy; come, come, and learn of us
To melt in showers: Thy grandsire lov'd thee well:
Many a time he danc'd thee on his knee,
Sung thee asleep, his loving breast thy pillow;
Many a matter hath he told to thee,
Meet, and agreeing with thine infancy;
In that respect then, like a loving child,
Shed yet some small drops from thy tender spring,
Because kind nature doth require it so:
Friends should associate friends in grief and woe:
Bid him farewel; commit him to the grave,
Do him that kindness, and take leave of him. ^note

Boy.
O grandsire, grandsire, e'en with all my heart
'Would I were ^note dead, so you did live again!
O lord, I cannot speak to him for weeping;
My tears will choak me, if I ope my mouth. Enter Attendants with Aaron.

2. R.
You sad Andronici, have done with woes;
Give sentence on this execrable wretch,
That hath been breeder of these dire events.

Luc.
Set him breast-deep in earth, and famish him;
There let him stand, and rave and cry for food:
If any one relieves or pities him,
For the offence he dies. This is our doom:
Some stay, to see him fasten'd in the earth.

Aar.
Ah, why ^note should wrath be mute, and fury dumb?
I am no baby, I, that, with base prayers,
I should repent the evils I have done;
Ten thousand, worse than ever yet I did,
Would I perform, if I might have my will:
If one good deed in all my life I did,

I do repent it from my very soul.

Luc.
Some loving friends convey the emperor hence, ^note
And give him burial in his father's grave:
My father, and Lavinia, shall forthwith
Be closed in our houshold's monument.
As for that heinous tiger ^note, Tamora,
No funeral rite, nor man in mournful weeds,
No mournful bell shall ring her burial;
But throw her forth to beasts ^note, and birds of prey: ^note
Her life was beast-like, ^note and devoid of pity;
And, being so, shall have like want of pity.
See justice done on Aaron; that damn'd Moor,
By whom ^note our heavy haps had ^note their beginning:
Then, afterwards, to order well the state;
That like events may ne'er it ruinate. [Exeunt.

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