Titus Andronicus

1Noble patricians, patrons of my right,

2Defend the justice of my cause with arms,

3And, countrymen, my loving followers,

4Plead my successive title with your swords:

5I am his first-born son, that was the last

6That wore the imperial diadem of Rome;

7Then let my father's honours live in me,

8Nor wrong mine age with this indignity.

9Romans, friends, followers, favorers of my right,

10If ever Bassianus, Caesar's son,

11Were gracious in the eyes of royal Rome,

12Keep then this passage to the Capitol

13And suffer not dishonour to approach

14The imperial seat, to virtue consecrate,

15To justice, continence and nobility;

16But let desert in pure election shine,

17And, Romans, fight for freedom in your choice.

18Princes, that strive by factions and by friends

19Ambitiously for rule and empery,

20Know that the people of Rome, for whom we stand

21A special party, have, by common voice,

22In election for the Roman empery,

23Chosen Andronicus, surnamed Pius

24For many good and great deserts to Rome:

25A nobler man, a braver warrior,

26Lives not this day within the city walls:

27He by the senate is accit'd home

28From weary wars against the barbarous Goths;

29That, with his sons, a terror to our foes,

30Hath yoked a nation strong, train'd up in arms.

31Ten years are spent since first he undertook

32This cause of Rome and chastised with arms

33Our enemies' pride: five times he hath return'd

34Bleeding to Rome, bearing his valiant sons

35In coffins from the field;

36And now at last, laden with horror's spoils,

37Returns the good Andronicus to Rome,

38Renowned Titus, flourishing in arms.

39Let us entreat, by honour of his name,

40Whom worthily you would have now succeed.

41And in the Capitol and senate's right,

42Whom you pretend to honour and adore,

43That you withdraw you and abate your strength;

44Dismiss your followers and, as suitors should,

45Plead your deserts in peace and humbleness.

46How fair the tribune speaks to calm my thoughts!

47Marcus Andronicus, so I do ally

48In thy uprightness and integrity,

49And so I love and honour thee and thine,

50Thy noble brother Titus and his sons,

51And her to whom my thoughts are humbled all,

52Gracious Lavinia, Rome's rich ornament,

53That I will here dismiss my loving friends,

54And to my fortunes and the people's favor

55Commit my cause in balance to be weigh'd.

56Friends, that have been thus forward in my right,

57I thank you all and here dismiss you all,

58And to the love and favor of my country

59Commit myself, my person and the cause.

60Rome, be as just and gracious unto me

61As I am confident and kind to thee.

62Open the gates, and let me in.

63Tribunes, and me, a poor competitor.

64Romans, make way: the good Andronicus.

65Patron of virtue, Rome's best champion,

66Successful in the battles that he fights,

67With honour and with fortune is return'd

68From where he circumscribed with his sword,

69And brought to yoke, the enemies of Rome.

70Hail, Rome, victorious in thy mourning weeds!

71Lo, as the bark, that hath discharged her fraught,

72Returns with precious jading to the bay

73From whence at first she weigh'd her anchorage,

74Cometh Andronicus, bound with laurel boughs,

75To re-salute his country with his tears,

76Tears of true joy for his return to Rome.

77Thou great defender of this Capitol,

78Stand gracious to the rites that we intend!

79Romans, of five and twenty valiant sons,

80Half of the number that King Priam had,

81Behold the poor remains, alive and dead!

82These that survive let Rome reward with love;

83These that I bring unto their latest home,

84With burial amongst their ancestors:

85Here Goths have given me leave to sheathe my sword.

86Titus, unkind and careless of thine own,

87Why suffer'st thou thy sons, unburied yet,

88To hover on the dreadful shore of Styx?

89Make way to lay them by their brethren.

90There greet in silence, as the dead are wont,

91And sleep in peace, slain in your country's wars!

92O sacred receptacle of my joys,

93Sweet cell of virtue and nobility,

94How many sons of mine hast thou in store,

95That thou wilt never render to me more!

96Give us the proudest prisoner of the Goths,

97That we may hew his limbs, and on a pile

98Ad manes fratrum sacrifice his flesh,

99Before this earthy prison of their bones;

100That so the shadows be not unappeased,

101Nor we disturb'd with prodigies on earth.

102I give him you, the noblest that survives,

103The eldest son of this distressed queen.

104Stay, Roman brethren! Gracious conqueror,

105Victorious Titus, rue the tears I shed,

106A mother's tears in passion for her son:

107And if thy sons were ever dear to thee,

108O, think my son to be as dear to me!

109Sufficeth not that we are brought to Rome,

110To beautify thy triumphs and return,

111Captive to thee and to thy Roman yoke,

112But must my sons be slaughter'd in the streets,

113For valiant doings in their country's cause?

114O, if to fight for king and commonweal

115Were piety in thine, it is in these.

116Andronicus, stain not thy tomb with blood:

117Wilt thou draw near the nature of the gods?

118Draw near them then in being merciful:

119Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge:

120Thrice noble Titus, spare my first-born son.

121Patient yourself, madam, and pardon me.

122These are their brethren, whom you Goths beheld

123Alive and dead, and for their brethren slain

124Religiously they ask a sacrifice:

125To this your son is mark'd, and die he must,

126To appease their groaning shadows that are gone.

127Away with him! and make a fire straight;

128And with our swords, upon a pile of wood,

129Let's hew his limbs till they be clean consumed.

130O cruel, irreligious piety!

131Was ever Scythia half so barbarous?

132Oppose not Scythia to ambitious Rome.

133Alarbus goes to rest; and we survive

134To tremble under Titus' threatening looks.

135Then, madam, stand resolved, but hope withal

136The self-same gods that arm'd the Queen of Troy

137With opportunity of sharp revenge

138Upon the Thracian tyrant in his tent,

139May favor Tamora, the Queen of Goths--

140When Goths were Goths and Tamora was queen--

141To quit the bloody wrongs upon her foes.

142See, lord and father, how we have perform'd

143Our Roman rites: Alarbus' limbs are lopp'd,

144And entrails feed the sacrificing fire,

145Whose smoke, like incense, doth perfume the sky.

146Remaineth nought, but to inter our brethren,

147And with loud 'larums welcome them to Rome.

148Let it be so; and let Andronicus

149Make this his latest farewell to their souls.

150In peace and honour rest you here, my sons;

151Rome's readiest champions, repose you here in rest,

152Secure from worldly chances and mishaps!

153Here lurks no treason, here no envy swells,

154Here grow no damned grudges; here are no storms,

155No noise, but silence and eternal sleep:

156In peace and honour rest you here, my sons!

157In peace and honour live Lord Titus long;

158My noble lord and father, live in fame!

159Lo, at this tomb my tributary tears

160I render, for my brethren's obsequies;

161And at thy feet I kneel, with tears of joy,

162Shed on the earth, for thy return to Rome:

163O, bless me here with thy victorious hand,

164Whose fortunes Rome's best citizens applaud!

165Kind Rome, that hast thus lovingly reserved

166The cordial of mine age to glad my heart!

167Lavinia, live; outlive thy father's days,

168And fame's eternal date, for virtue's praise!

169Long live Lord Titus, my beloved brother,

170Gracious triumpher in the eyes of Rome!

171Thanks, gentle tribune, noble brother Marcus.

172And welcome, nephews, from successful wars,

173You that survive, and you that sleep in fame!

174Fair lords, your fortunes are alike in all,

175That in your country's service drew your swords:

176But safer triumph is this funeral pomp,

177That hath aspired to Solon's happiness

178And triumphs over chance in honour's bed.

179Titus Andronicus, the people of Rome,

180Whose friend in justice thou hast ever been,

181Send thee by me, their tribune and their trust,

182This palliament of white and spotless hue;

183And name thee in election for the empire,

184With these our late-deceased emperor's sons:

185Be candidatus then, and put it on,

186And help to set a head on headless Rome.

187A better head her glorious body fits

188Than his that shakes for age and feebleness:

189What should I don this robe, and trouble you?

190Be chosen with proclamations to-day,

191To-morrow yield up rule, resign my life,

192And set abroad new business for you all?

193Rome, I have been thy soldier forty years,

194And led my country's strength successfully,

195And buried one and twenty valiant sons,

196Knighted in field, slain manfully in arms,

197In right and service of their noble country

198Give me a staff of honour for mine age,

199But not a sceptre to control the world:

200Upright he held it, lords, that held it last.

201Titus, thou shalt obtain and ask the empery.

202Proud and ambitious tribune, canst thou tell?

203Patience, Prince Saturninus.

204Romans, do me right:

205Patricians, draw your swords: and sheathe them not

206Till Saturninus be Rome's emperor.

207Andronicus, would thou wert shipp'd to hell,

208Rather than rob me of the people's hearts!

209Proud Saturnine, interrupter of the good

210That noble-minded Titus means to thee!

211Content thee, prince; I will restore to thee

212The people's hearts, and wean them from themselves.

213Andronicus, I do not flatter thee,

214But honour thee, and will do till I die:

215My faction if thou strengthen with thy friends,

216I will most thankful be; and thanks to men

217Of noble minds is honourable meed.

218People of Rome, and people's tribunes here,

219I ask your voices and your suffrages:

220Will you bestow them friendly on Andronicus?

221To gratify the good Andronicus,

222And gratulate his safe return to Rome,

223The people will accept whom he admits.

224Tribunes, I thank you: and this suit I make,

225That you create your emperor's eldest son,

226Lord Saturnine; whose virtues will, I hope,

227Reflect on Rome as Titan's rays on earth,

228And ripen justice in this commonweal:

229Then, if you will elect by my advice,

230Crown him and say 'Long live our emperor!'

231With voices and applause of every sort,

232Patricians and plebeians, we create

233Lord Saturninus Rome's great emperor,

234And say 'Long live our Emperor Saturnine!'

235Titus Andronicus, for thy favors done

236To us in our election this day,

237I give thee thanks in part of thy deserts,

238And will with deeds requite thy gentleness:

239And, for an onset, Titus, to advance

240Thy name and honourable family,

241Lavinia will I make my empress,

242Rome's royal mistress, mistress of my heart,

243And in the sacred Pantheon her espouse:

244Tell me, Andronicus, doth this motion please thee?

245It doth, my worthy lord; and in this match

246I hold me highly honour'd of your grace:

247And here in sight of Rome to Saturnine,

248King and commander of our commonweal,

249The wide world's emperor, do I consecrate

250My sword, my chariot and my prisoners;

251Presents well worthy Rome's imperial lord:

252Receive them then, the tribute that I owe,

253Mine honour's ensigns humbled at thy feet.

254Thanks, noble Titus, father of my life!

255How proud I am of thee and of thy gifts

256Rome shall record, and when I do forget

257The least of these unspeakable deserts,

258Romans, forget your fealty to me.

259[To TAMORA] Now, madam, are you prisoner to

260an emperor;

261To him that, for your honour and your state,

262Will use you nobly and your followers.

263A goodly lady, trust me; of the hue

264That I would choose, were I to choose anew.

265Clear up, fair queen, that cloudy countenance:

266Though chance of war hath wrought this change of cheer,

267Thou comest not to be made a scorn in Rome:

268Princely shall be thy usage every way.

269Rest on my word, and let not discontent

270Daunt all your hopes: madam, he comforts you

271Can make you greater than the Queen of Goths.

272Lavinia, you are not displeased with this?

273Not I, my lord; sith true nobility

274Warrants these words in princely courtesy.

275Thanks, sweet Lavinia. Romans, let us go;

276Ransomless here we set our prisoners free:

277Proclaim our honours, lords, with trump and drum.

278Lord Titus, by your leave, this maid is mine.

279How, sir! are you in earnest then, my lord?

280Ay, noble Titus; and resolved withal

281To do myself this reason and this right.

282'Suum cuique' is our Roman justice:

283This prince in justice seizeth but his own.

284And that he will, and shall, if Lucius live.

285Traitors, avaunt! Where is the emperor's guard?

286Treason, my lord! Lavinia is surprised!

287Surprised! by whom?

288By him that justly may

289Bear his betroth'd from all the world away.

290Brothers, help to convey her hence away,

291And with my sword I'll keep this door safe.

292Follow, my lord, and I'll soon bring her back.

293My lord, you pass not here.

294What, villain boy!

295Barr'st me my way in Rome?

296Help, Lucius, help!

297My lord, you are unjust, and, more than so,

298In wrongful quarrel you have slain your son.

299Nor thou, nor he, are any sons of mine;

300My sons would never so dishonour me:

301Traitor, restore Lavinia to the emperor.

302Dead, if you will; but not to be his wife,

303That is another's lawful promised love.

304No, Titus, no; the emperor needs her not,

305Nor her, nor thee, nor any of thy stock:

306I'll trust, by leisure, him that mocks me once;

307Thee never, nor thy traitorous haughty sons,

308Confederates all thus to dishonour me.

309Was there none else in Rome to make a stale,

310But Saturnine? Full well, Andronicus,

311Agree these deeds with that proud brag of thine,

312That said'st I begg'd the empire at thy hands.

313O monstrous! what reproachful words are these?

314But go thy ways; go, give that changing piece

315To him that flourish'd for her with his sword

316A valiant son-in-law thou shalt enjoy;

317One fit to bandy with thy lawless sons,

318To ruffle in the commonwealth of Rome.

319These words are razors to my wounded heart.

320And therefore, lovely Tamora, queen of Goths,

321That like the stately Phoebe 'mongst her nymphs

322Dost overshine the gallant'st dames of Rome,

323If thou be pleased with this my sudden choice,

324Behold, I choose thee, Tamora, for my bride,

325And will create thee empress of Rome,

326Speak, Queen of Goths, dost thou applaud my choice?

327And here I swear by all the Roman gods,

328Sith priest and holy water are so near

329And tapers burn so bright and every thing

330In readiness for Hymenaeus stand,

331I will not re-salute the streets of Rome,

332Or climb my palace, till from forth this place

333I lead espoused my bride along with me.

334And here, in sight of heaven, to Rome I swear,

335If Saturnine advance the Queen of Goths,

336She will a handmaid be to his desires,

337A loving nurse, a mother to his youth.

338Ascend, fair queen, Pantheon. Lords, accompany

339Your noble emperor and his lovely bride,

340Sent by the heavens for Prince Saturnine,

341Whose wisdom hath her fortune conquered:

342There shall we consummate our spousal rites.

343I am not bid to wait upon this bride.

344Titus, when wert thou wont to walk alone,

345Dishonour'd thus, and challenged of wrongs?

346O Titus, see, O, see what thou hast done!

347In a bad quarrel slain a virtuous son.

348No, foolish tribune, no; no son of mine,

349Nor thou, nor these, confederates in the deed

350That hath dishonour'd all our family;

351Unworthy brother, and unworthy sons!

352But let us give him burial, as becomes;

353Give Mutius burial with our brethren.

354Traitors, away! he rests not in this tomb:

355This monument five hundred years hath stood,

356Which I have sumptuously re-edified:

357Here none but soldiers and Rome's servitors

358Repose in fame; none basely slain in brawls:

359Bury him where you can; he comes not here.

360My lord, this is impiety in you:

361My nephew Mutius' deeds do plead for him

362He must be buried with his brethren.

363And shall, or him we will accompany.

364'And shall!' what villain was it that spake

365that word?

366He that would vouch it in any place but here.

367What, would you bury him in my despite?

368No, noble Titus, but entreat of thee

369To pardon Mutius and to bury him.

370Marcus, even thou hast struck upon my crest,

371And, with these boys, mine honour thou hast wounded:

372My foes I do repute you every one;

373So, trouble me no more, but get you gone.

374He is not with himself; let us withdraw.

375Not I, till Mutius' bones be buried.

376Brother, for in that name doth nature plead,--

377Father, and in that name doth nature speak,--

378Speak thou no more, if all the rest will speed.

379Renowned Titus, more than half my soul,--

380Dear father, soul and substance of us all,--

381Suffer thy brother Marcus to inter

382His noble nephew here in virtue's nest,

383That died in honour and Lavinia's cause.

384Thou art a Roman; be not barbarous:

385The Greeks upon advice did bury Ajax

386That slew himself; and wise Laertes' son

387Did graciously plead for his funerals:

388Let not young Mutius, then, that was thy joy

389Be barr'd his entrance here.

390Rise, Marcus, rise.

391The dismall'st day is this that e'er I saw,

392To be dishonour'd by my sons in Rome!

393Well, bury him, and bury me the next.

394There lie thy bones, sweet Mutius, with thy friends,

395Till we with trophies do adorn thy tomb.

396[Kneeling] No man shed tears for noble Mutius;

397He lives in fame that died in virtue's cause.

398My lord, to step out of these dreary dumps,

399How comes it that the subtle Queen of Goths

400Is of a sudden thus advanced in Rome?

401I know not, Marcus; but I know it is,

402Whether by device or no, the heavens can tell:

403Is she not then beholding to the man

404That brought her for this high good turn so far?

405Yes, and will nobly him remunerate.

406So, Bassianus, you have play'd your prize:

407God give you joy, sir, of your gallant bride!

408And you of yours, my lord! I say no more,

409Nor wish no less; and so, I take my leave.

410Traitor, if Rome have law or we have power,

411Thou and thy faction shall repent this rape.

412Rape, call you it, my lord, to seize my own,

413My truth-betrothed love and now my wife?

414But let the laws of Rome determine all;

415Meanwhile I am possess'd of that is mine.

416'Tis good, sir: you are very short with us;

417But, if we live, we'll be as sharp with you.

418My lord, what I have done, as best I may,

419Answer I must and shall do with my life.

420Only thus much I give your grace to know:

421By all the duties that I owe to Rome,

422This noble gentleman, Lord Titus here,

423Is in opinion and in honour wrong'd;

424That in the rescue of Lavinia

425With his own hand did slay his youngest son,

426In zeal to you and highly moved to wrath

427To be controll'd in that he frankly gave:

428Receive him, then, to favor, Saturnine,

429That hath express'd himself in all his deeds

430A father and a friend to thee and Rome.

431Prince Bassianus, leave to plead my deeds:

432'Tis thou and those that have dishonour'd me.

433Rome and the righteous heavens be my judge,

434How I have loved and honour'd Saturnine!

435My worthy lord, if ever Tamora

436Were gracious in those princely eyes of thine,

437Then hear me speak in indifferently for all;

438And at my suit, sweet, pardon what is past.

439What, madam! be dishonour'd openly,

440And basely put it up without revenge?

441Not so, my lord; the gods of Rome forfend

442I should be author to dishonour you!

443But on mine honour dare I undertake

444For good Lord Titus' innocence in all;

445Whose fury not dissembled speaks his griefs:

446Then, at my suit, look graciously on him;

447Lose not so noble a friend on vain suppose,

448Nor with sour looks afflict his gentle heart.

449be won at last;

450Dissemble all your griefs and discontents:

451You are but newly planted in your throne;

452Lest, then, the people, and patricians too,

453Upon a just survey, take Titus' part,

454And so supplant you for ingratitude,

455Which Rome reputes to be a heinous sin,

456Yield at entreats; and then let me alone:

457I'll find a day to massacre them all

458And raze their faction and their family,

459The cruel father and his traitorous sons,

460To whom I sued for my dear son's life,

461And make them know what 'tis to let a queen

462Kneel in the streets and beg for grace in vain.

463Come, come, sweet emperor; come, Andronicus;

464Take up this good old man, and cheer the heart

465That dies in tempest of thy angry frown.

466Rise, Titus, rise; my empress hath prevail'd.

467I thank your majesty, and her, my lord:

468These words, these looks, infuse new life in me.

469Titus, I am incorporate in Rome,

470A Roman now adopted happily,

471And must advise the emperor for his good.

472This day all quarrels die, Andronicus;

473And let it be mine honour, good my lord,

474That I have reconciled your friends and you.

475For you, Prince Bassianus, I have pass'd

476My word and promise to the emperor,

477That you will be more mild and tractable.

478And fear not lords, and you, Lavinia;

479By my advice, all humbled on your knees,

480You shall ask pardon of his majesty.

481We do, and vow to heaven and to his highness,

482That what we did was mildly as we might,

483Tendering our sister's honour and our own.

484That, on mine honour, here I do protest.

485Away, and talk not; trouble us no more.

486Nay, nay, sweet emperor, we must all be friends:

487The tribune and his nephews kneel for grace;

488I will not be denied: sweet heart, look back.

489Marcus, for thy sake and thy brother's here,

490And at my lovely Tamora's entreats,

491I do remit these young men's heinous faults: Stand up.

492Lavinia, though you left me like a churl,

493I found a friend, and sure as death I swore

494I would not part a bachelor from the priest.

495Come, if the emperor's court can feast two brides,

496You are my guest, Lavinia, and your friends.

497This day shall be a love-day, Tamora.

498To-morrow, an it please your majesty

499To hunt the panther and the hart with me,

500With horn and hound we'll give your grace bonjour.

501Be it so, Titus, and gramercy too.

1Now climbeth Tamora Olympus' top,

2Safe out of fortune's shot; and sits aloft,

3Secure of thunder's crack or lightning flash;

4Advanced above pale envy's threatening reach.

5As when the golden sun salutes the morn,

6And, having gilt the ocean with his beams,

7Gallops the zodiac in his glistering coach,

8And overlooks the highest-peering hills;

9So Tamora:

10Upon her wit doth earthly honour wait,

11And virtue stoops and trembles at her frown.

12Then, Aaron, arm thy heart, and fit thy thoughts,

13To mount aloft with thy imperial mistress,

14And mount her pitch, whom thou in triumph long

15Hast prisoner held, fetter'd in amorous chains

16And faster bound to Aaron's charming eyes

17Than is Prometheus tied to Caucasus.

18Away with slavish weeds and servile thoughts!

19I will be bright, and shine in pearl and gold,

20To wait upon this new-made empress.

21To wait, said I? to wanton with this queen,

22This goddess, this Semiramis, this nymph,

23This siren, that will charm Rome's Saturnine,

24And see his shipwreck and his commonweal's.

25Holloa! what storm is this?

26Chiron, thy years want wit, thy wit wants edge,

27And manners, to intrude where I am graced;

28And may, for aught thou know'st, affected be.

29Demetrius, thou dost over-ween in all;

30And so in this, to bear me down with braves.

31'Tis not the difference of a year or two

32Makes me less gracious or thee more fortunate:

33I am as able and as fit as thou

34To serve, and to deserve my mistress' grace;

35And that my sword upon thee shall approve,

36And plead my passions for Lavinia's love.

37[Aside] Clubs, clubs! these lovers will not keep

38the peace.

39Why, boy, although our mother, unadvised,

40Gave you a dancing-rapier by your side,

41Are you so desperate grown, to threat your friends?

42Go to; have your lath glued within your sheath

43Till you know better how to handle it.

44Meanwhile, sir, with the little skill I have,

45Full well shalt thou perceive how much I dare.

46Ay, boy, grow ye so brave?

47[Coming forward] Why, how now, lords!

48So near the emperor's palace dare you draw,

49And maintain such a quarrel openly?

50Full well I wot the ground of all this grudge:

51I would not for a million of gold

52The cause were known to them it most concerns;

53Nor would your noble mother for much more

54Be so dishonour'd in the court of Rome.

55For shame, put up.

56Not I, till I have sheathed

57My rapier in his bosom and withal

58Thrust these reproachful speeches down his throat

59That he hath breathed in my dishonour here.

60For that I am prepared and full resolved.

61Foul-spoken coward, that thunder'st with thy tongue,

62And with thy weapon nothing darest perform!

63Away, I say!

64Now, by the gods that warlike Goths adore,

65This petty brabble will undo us all.

66Why, lords, and think you not how dangerous

67It is to jet upon a prince's right?

68What, is Lavinia then become so loose,

69Or Bassianus so degenerate,

70That for her love such quarrels may be broach'd

71Without controlment, justice, or revenge?

72Young lords, beware! and should the empress know

73This discord's ground, the music would not please.

74I care not, I, knew she and all the world:

75I love Lavinia more than all the world.

76Youngling, learn thou to make some meaner choice:

77Lavinia is thine elder brother's hope.

78Why, are ye mad? or know ye not, in Rome

79How furious and impatient they be,

80And cannot brook competitors in love?

81I tell you, lords, you do but plot your deaths

82By this device.

83Aaron, a thousand deaths

84Would I propose to achieve her whom I love.

85To achieve her! how?

86Why makest thou it so strange?

87She is a woman, therefore may be woo'd;

88She is a woman, therefore may be won;

89She is Lavinia, therefore must be loved.

90What, man! more water glideth by the mill

91Than wots the miller of; and easy it is

92Of a cut loaf to steal a shive, we know:

93Though Bassianus be the emperor's brother.

94Better than he have worn Vulcan's badge.

95[Aside] Ay, and as good as Saturninus may.

96Then why should he despair that knows to court it

97With words, fair looks and liberality?

98What, hast not thou full often struck a doe,

99And borne her cleanly by the keeper's nose?

100Why, then, it seems, some certain snatch or so

101Would serve your turns.

102Ay, so the turn were served.

103Aaron, thou hast hit it.

104Would you had hit it too!

105Then should not we be tired with this ado.

106Why, hark ye, hark ye! and are you such fools

107To square for this? would it offend you, then

108That both should speed?

109Faith, not me.

110Nor me, so I were one.

111For shame, be friends, and join for that you jar:

112'Tis policy and stratagem must do

113That you affect; and so must you resolve,

114That what you cannot as you would achieve,

115You must perforce accomplish as you may.

116Take this of me: Lucrece was not more chaste

117Than this Lavinia, Bassianus' love.

118A speedier course than lingering languishment

119Must we pursue, and I have found the path.

120My lords, a solemn hunting is in hand;

121There will the lovely Roman ladies troop:

122The forest walks are wide and spacious;

123And many unfrequented plots there are

124Fitted by kind for rape and villany:

125Single you thither then this dainty doe,

126And strike her home by force, if not by words:

127This way, or not at all, stand you in hope.

128Come, come, our empress, with her sacred wit

129To villany and vengeance consecrate,

130Will we acquaint with all that we intend;

131And she shall file our engines with advice,

132That will not suffer you to square yourselves,

133But to your wishes' height advance you both.

134The emperor's court is like the house of Fame,

135The palace full of tongues, of eyes, and ears:

136The woods are ruthless, dreadful, deaf, and dull;

137There speak, and strike, brave boys, and take

138your turns;

139There serve your lusts, shadow'd from heaven's eye,

140And revel in Lavinia's treasury.

141Thy counsel, lad, smells of no cowardice,

142Sit fas aut nefas, till I find the stream

143To cool this heat, a charm to calm these fits.

144Per Styga, per manes vehor.

1The hunt is up, the morn is bright and grey,

2The fields are fragrant and the woods are green:

3Uncouple here and let us make a bay

4And wake the emperor and his lovely bride

5And rouse the prince and ring a hunter's peal,

6That all the court may echo with the noise.

7Sons, let it be your charge, as it is ours,

8To attend the emperor's person carefully:

9I have been troubled in my sleep this night,

10But dawning day new comfort hath inspired.

11Many good morrows to your majesty;

12Madam, to you as many and as good:

13I promised your grace a hunter's peal.

14And you have rung it lustily, my lord;

15Somewhat too early for new-married ladies.

16Lavinia, how say you?

17I say, no;

18I have been broad awake two hours and more.

19Come on, then; horse and chariots let us have,

20And to our sport.

21Madam, now shall ye see

22Our Roman hunting.

23I have dogs, my lord,

24Will rouse the proudest panther in the chase,

25And climb the highest promontory top.

26And I have horse will follow where the game

27Makes way, and run like swallows o'er the plain.

28Chiron, we hunt not, we, with horse nor hound,

29But hope to pluck a dainty doe to ground.

1He that had wit would think that I had none,

2To bury so much gold under a tree,

3And never after to inherit it.

4Let him that thinks of me so abjectly

5Know that this gold must coin a stratagem,

6Which, cunningly effected, will beget

7A very excellent piece of villany:

8And so repose, sweet gold, for their unrest

9That have their alms out of the empress' chest.

10My lovely Aaron, wherefore look'st thou sad,

11When every thing doth make a gleeful boast?

12The birds chant melody on every bush,

13The snake lies rolled in the cheerful sun,

14The green leaves quiver with the cooling wind

15And make a chequer'd shadow on the ground:

16Under their sweet shade, Aaron, let us sit,

17And, whilst the babbling echo mocks the hounds,

18Replying shrilly to the well-tuned horns,

19As if a double hunt were heard at once,

20Let us sit down and mark their yelping noise;

21And, after conflict such as was supposed

22The wandering prince and Dido once enjoy'd,

23When with a happy storm they were surprised

24And curtain'd with a counsel-keeping cave,

25We may, each wreathed in the other's arms,

26Our pastimes done, possess a golden slumber;

27Whiles hounds and horns and sweet melodious birds

28Be unto us as is a nurse's song

29Of lullaby to bring her babe asleep.

30Madam, though Venus govern your desires,

31Saturn is dominator over mine:

32What signifies my deadly-standing eye,

33My silence and my cloudy melancholy,

34My fleece of woolly hair that now uncurls

35Even as an adder when she doth unroll

36To do some fatal execution?

37No, madam, these are no venereal signs:

38Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand,

39Blood and revenge are hammering in my head.

40Hark Tamora, the empress of my soul,

41Which never hopes more heaven than rests in thee,

42This is the day of doom for Bassianus:

43His Philomel must lose her tongue to-day,

44Thy sons make pillage of her chastity

45And wash their hands in Bassianus' blood.

46Seest thou this letter? take it up, I pray thee,

47And give the king this fatal plotted scroll.

48Now question me no more; we are espied;

49Here comes a parcel of our hopeful booty,

50Which dreads not yet their lives' destruction.

51Ah, my sweet Moor, sweeter to me than life!

52No more, great empress; Bassianus comes:

53Be cross with him; and I'll go fetch thy sons

54To back thy quarrels, whatsoe'er they be.

55Who have we here? Rome's royal empress,

56Unfurnish'd of her well-beseeming troop?

57Or is it Dian, habited like her,

58Who hath abandoned her holy groves

59To see the general hunting in this forest?

60Saucy controller of our private steps!

61Had I the power that some say Dian had,

62Thy temples should be planted presently

63With horns, as was Actaeon's; and the hounds

64Should drive upon thy new-transformed limbs,

65Unmannerly intruder as thou art!

66Under your patience, gentle empress,

67'Tis thought you have a goodly gift in horning;

68And to be doubted that your Moor and you

69Are singled forth to try experiments:

70Jove shield your husband from his hounds to-day!

71'Tis pity they should take him for a stag.

72Believe me, queen, your swarth Cimmerian

73Doth make your honour of his body's hue,

74Spotted, detested, and abominable.

75Why are you sequester'd from all your train,

76Dismounted from your snow-white goodly steed.

77And wander'd hither to an obscure plot,

78Accompanied but with a barbarous Moor,

79If foul desire had not conducted you?

80And, being intercepted in your sport,

81Great reason that my noble lord be rated

82For sauciness. I pray you, let us hence,

83And let her joy her raven-colour'd love;

84This valley fits the purpose passing well.

85The king my brother shall have note of this.

86Ay, for these slips have made him noted long:

87Good king, to be so mightily abused!

88Why have I patience to endure all this?

89How now, dear sovereign, and our gracious mother!

90Why doth your highness look so pale and wan?

91Have I not reason, think you, to look pale?

92These two have 'ticed me hither to this place:

93A barren detested vale, you see it is;

94The trees, though summer, yet forlorn and lean,

95O'ercome with moss and baleful mistletoe:

96Here never shines the sun; here nothing breeds,

97Unless the nightly owl or fatal raven:

98And when they show'd me this abhorred pit,

99They told me, here, at dead time of the night,

100A thousand fiends, a thousand hissing snakes,

101Ten thousand swelling toads, as many urchins,

102Would make such fearful and confused cries

103As any mortal body hearing it

104Should straight fall mad, or else die suddenly.

105No sooner had they told this hellish tale,

106But straight they told me they would bind me here

107Unto the body of a dismal yew,

108And leave me to this miserable death:

109And then they call'd me foul adulteress,

110Lascivious Goth, and all the bitterest terms

111That ever ear did hear to such effect:

112And, had you not by wondrous fortune come,

113This vengeance on me had they executed.

114Revenge it, as you love your mother's life,

115Or be ye not henceforth call'd my children.

116This is a witness that I am thy son.

117And this for me, struck home to show my strength.

118Ay, come, Semiramis, nay, barbarous Tamora,

119For no name fits thy nature but thy own!

120Give me thy poniard; you shall know, my boys

121Your mother's hand shall right your mother's wrong.

122Stay, madam; here is more belongs to her;

123First thrash the corn, then after burn the straw:

124This minion stood upon her chastity,

125Upon her nuptial vow, her loyalty,

126And with that painted hope braves your mightiness:

127And shall she carry this unto her grave?

128An if she do, I would I were an eunuch.

129Drag hence her husband to some secret hole,

130And make his dead trunk pillow to our lust.

131But when ye have the honey ye desire,

132Let not this wasp outlive, us both to sting.

133I warrant you, madam, we wil l make that sure.

134Come, mistress, now perforce we will enjoy

135That nice-preserved honesty of yours.

136O Tamora! thou bear'st a woman's face,--

137I will not hear her speak; away with her!

138Sweet lords, entreat her hear me but a word.

139Listen, fair madam: let it be your glory

140To see her tears; but be your heart to them

141As unrelenting flint to drops of rain.

142When did the tiger's young ones teach the dam?

143O, do not learn her wrath; she taught it thee;

144The milk thou suck'dst from her did turn to marble;

145Even at thy teat thou hadst thy tyranny.

146Yet every mother breeds not sons alike:

147Do thou entreat her show a woman pity.

148What, wouldst thou have me prove myself a bastard?

149'Tis true; the raven doth not hatch a lark:

150Yet have I heard,--O, could I find it now!--

151The lion moved with pity did endure

152To have his princely paws pared all away:

153Some say that ravens foster forlorn children,

154The whilst their own birds famish in their nests:

155O, be to me, though thy hard heart say no,

156Nothing so kind, but something pitiful!

157I know not what it means; away with her!

158O, let me teach thee! for my father's sake,

159That gave thee life, when well he might have

160slain thee,

161Be not obdurate, open thy deaf ears.

162Hadst thou in person ne'er offended me,

163Even for his sake am I pitiless.

164Remember, boys, I pour'd forth tears in vain,

165To save your brother from the sacrifice;

166But fierce Andronicus would not relent;

167Therefore, away with her, and use her as you will,

168The worse to her, the better loved of me.

169O Tamora, be call'd a gentle queen,

170And with thine own hands kill me in this place!

171For 'tis not life that I have begg'd so long;

172Poor I was slain when Bassianus died.

173What begg'st thou, then? fond woman, let me go.

174'Tis present death I beg; and one thing more

175That womanhood denies my tongue to tell:

176O, keep me from their worse than killing lust,

177And tumble me into some loathsome pit,

178Where never man's eye may behold my body:

179Do this, and be a charitable murderer.

180So should I rob my sweet sons of their fee:

181No, let them satisfy their lust on thee.

182Away! for thou hast stay'd us here too long.

183No grace? no womanhood? Ah, beastly creature!

184The blot and enemy to our general name!

185Confusion fall--

186Nay, then I'll stop your mouth. Bring thou her husband:

187This is the hole where Aaron bid us hide him.

188Farewell, my sons: see that you make her sure.

189Ne'er let my heart know merry cheer indeed,

190Till all the Andronici be made away.

191Now will I hence to seek my lovely Moor,

192And let my spleenful sons this trull deflow'r.

193Come on, my lords, the better foot before:

194Straight will I bring you to the loathsome pit

195Where I espied the panther fast asleep.

196My sight is very dull, whate'er it bodes.

197And mine, I promise you; were't not for shame,

198Well could I leave our sport to sleep awhile.

199What art thou fall'n? What subtle hole is this,

200Whose mouth is cover'd with rude-growing briers,

201Upon whose leaves are drops of new-shed blood

202As fresh as morning dew distill'd on flowers?

203A very fatal place it seems to me.

204Speak, brother, hast thou hurt thee with the fall?

205O brother, with the dismall'st object hurt

206That ever eye with sight made heart lament!

207[Aside] Now will I fetch the king to find them here,

208That he thereby may give a likely guess

209How these were they that made away his brother.

210Why dost not comfort me, and help me out

211From this unhallowed and blood-stained hole?

212I am surprised with an uncouth fear;

213A chilling sweat o'er-runs my trembling joints:

214My heart suspects more than mine eye can see.

215To prove thou hast a true-divining heart,

216Aaron and thou look down into this den,

217And see a fearful sight of blood and death.

218Aaron is gone; and my compassionate heart

219Will not permit mine eyes once to behold

220The thing whereat it trembles by surmise;

221O, tell me how it is; for ne'er till now

222Was I a child to fear I know not what.

223Lord Bassianus lies embrewed here,

224All on a heap, like to a slaughter'd lamb,

225In this detested, dark, blood-drinking pit.

226If it be dark, how dost thou know 'tis he?

227Upon his bloody finger he doth wear

228A precious ring, that lightens all the hole,

229Which, like a taper in some monument,

230Doth shine upon the dead man's earthy cheeks,

231And shows the ragged entrails of the pit:

232So pale did shine the moon on Pyramus

233When he by night lay bathed in maiden blood.

234O brother, help me with thy fainting hand--

235If fear hath made thee faint, as me it hath--

236Out of this fell devouring receptacle,

237As hateful as Cocytus' misty mouth.

238Reach me thy hand, that I may help thee out;

239Or, wanting strength to do thee so much good,

240I may be pluck'd into the swallowing womb

241Of this deep pit, poor Bassianus' grave.

242I have no strength to pluck thee to the brink.

243Nor I no strength to climb without thy help.

244Thy hand once more; I will not loose again,

245Till thou art here aloft, or I below:

246Thou canst not come to me: I come to thee.

247Along with me: I'll see what hole is here,

248And what he is that now is leap'd into it.

249Say who art thou that lately didst descend

250Into this gaping hollow of the earth?

251The unhappy son of old Andronicus:

252Brought hither in a most unlucky hour,

253To find thy brother Bassianus dead.

254My brother dead! I know thou dost but jest:

255He and his lady both are at the lodge

256Upon the north side of this pleasant chase;

257'Tis not an hour since I left him there.

258We know not where you left him all alive;

259But, out, alas! here have we found him dead.

260Where is my lord the king?

261Here, Tamora, though grieved with killing grief.

262Where is thy brother Bassianus?

263Now to the bottom dost thou search my wound:

264Poor Bassianus here lies murdered.

265Then all too late I bring this fatal writ,

266The complot of this timeless tragedy;

267And wonder greatly that man's face can fold

268In pleasing smiles such murderous tyranny.

269[Reads] 'An if we miss to meet him handsomely--

270Sweet huntsman, Bassianus 'tis we mean--

271Do thou so much as dig the grave for him:

272Thou know'st our meaning. Look for thy reward

273Among the nettles at the elder-tree

274Which overshades the mouth of that same pit

275Where we decreed to bury Bassianus.

276Do this, and purchase us thy lasting friends.'

277O Tamora! was ever heard the like?

278This is the pit, and this the elder-tree.

279Look, sirs, if you can find the huntsman out

280That should have murdered Bassianus here.

281My gracious lord, here is the bag of gold.

282[To TITUS] Two of thy whelps, fell curs of

283bloody kind,

284Have here bereft my brother of his life.

285Sirs, drag them from the pit unto the prison:

286There let them bide until we have devised

287Some never-heard-of torturing pain for them.

288What, are they in this pit? O wondrous thing!

289How easily murder is discovered!

290High emperor, upon my feeble knee

291I beg this boon, with tears not lightly shed,

292That this fell fault of my accursed sons,

293Accursed if the fault be proved in them,--

294If it be proved! you see it is apparent.

295Who found this letter? Tamora, was it you?

296Andronicus himself did take it up.

297I did, my lord: yet let me be their bail;

298For, by my father's reverend tomb, I vow

299They shall be ready at your highness' will

300To answer their suspicion with their lives.

301Thou shalt not bail them: see thou follow me.

302Some bring the murder'd body, some the murderers:

303Let them not speak a word; the guilt is plain;

304For, by my soul, were there worse end than death,

305That end upon them should be executed.

306Andronicus, I will entreat the king;

307Fear not thy sons; they shall do well enough.

308Come, Lucius, come; stay not to talk with them.

1So, now go tell, an if thy tongue can speak,

2Who 'twas that cut thy tongue and ravish'd thee.

3Write down thy mind, bewray thy meaning so,

4An if thy stumps will let thee play the scribe.

5See, how with signs and tokens she can scrowl.

6Go home, call for sweet water, wash thy hands.

7She hath no tongue to call, nor hands to wash;

8And so let's leave her to her silent walks.

9An 'twere my case, I should go hang myself.

10If thou hadst hands to help thee knit the cord.

11Who is this? my niece, that flies away so fast!

12Cousin, a word; where is your husband?

13If I do dream, would all my wealth would wake me!

14If I do wake, some planet strike me down,

15That I may slumber in eternal sleep!

16Speak, gentle niece, what stern ungentle hands

17Have lopp'd and hew'd and made thy body bare

18Of her two branches, those sweet ornaments,

19Whose circling shadows kings have sought to sleep in,

20And might not gain so great a happiness

21As have thy love? Why dost not speak to me?

22Alas, a crimson river of warm blood,

23Like to a bubbling fountain stirr'd with wind,

24Doth rise and fall between thy rosed lips,

25Coming and going with thy honey breath.

26But, sure, some Tereus hath deflowered thee,

27And, lest thou shouldst detect him, cut thy tongue.

28Ah, now thou turn'st away thy face for shame!

29And, notwithstanding all this loss of blood,

30As from a conduit with three issuing spouts,

31Yet do thy cheeks look red as Titan's face

32Blushing to be encountered with a cloud.

33Shall I speak for thee? shall I say 'tis so?

34O, that I knew thy heart; and knew the beast,

35That I might rail at him, to ease my mind!

36Sorrow concealed, like an oven stopp'd,

37Doth burn the heart to cinders where it is.

38Fair Philomela, she but lost her tongue,

39And in a tedious sampler sew'd her mind:

40But, lovely niece, that mean is cut from thee;

41A craftier Tereus, cousin, hast thou met,

42And he hath cut those pretty fingers off,

43That could have better sew'd than Philomel.

44O, had the monster seen those lily hands

45Tremble, like aspen-leaves, upon a lute,

46And make the silken strings delight to kiss them,

47He would not then have touch'd them for his life!

48Or, had he heard the heavenly harmony

49Which that sweet tongue hath made,

50He would have dropp'd his knife, and fell asleep

51As Cerberus at the Thracian poet's feet.

52Come, let us go, and make thy father blind;

53For such a sight will blind a father's eye:

54One hour's storm will drown the fragrant meads;

55What will whole months of tears thy father's eyes?

56Do not draw back, for we will mourn with thee

57O, could our mourning ease thy misery!

1Hear me, grave fathers! noble tribunes, stay!

2For pity of mine age, whose youth was spent

3In dangerous wars, whilst you securely slept;

4For all my blood in Rome's great quarrel shed;

5For all the frosty nights that I have watch'd;

6And for these bitter tears, which now you see

7Filling the aged wrinkles in my cheeks;

8Be pitiful to my condemned sons,

9Whose souls are not corrupted as 'tis thought.

10For two and twenty sons I never wept,

11Because they died in honour's lofty bed.

12For these, these, tribunes, in the dust I write

13My heart's deep languor and my soul's sad tears:

14Let my tears stanch the earth's dry appetite;

15My sons' sweet blood will make it shame and blush.

16O earth, I will befriend thee more with rain,

17That shall distil from these two ancient urns,

18Than youthful April shall with all his showers:

19In summer's drought I'll drop upon thee still;

20In winter with warm tears I'll melt the snow

21And keep eternal spring-time on thy face,

22So thou refuse to drink my dear sons' blood.

23O reverend tribunes! O gentle, aged men!

24Unbind my sons, reverse the doom of death;

25And let me say, that never wept before,

26My tears are now prevailing orators.

27O noble father, you lament in vain:

28The tribunes hear you not; no man is by;

29And you recount your sorrows to a stone.

30Ah, Lucius, for thy brothers let me plead.

31Grave tribunes, once more I entreat of you,--

32My gracious lord, no tribune hears you speak.

33Why, tis no matter, man; if they did hear,

34They would not mark me, or if they did mark,

35They would not pity me, yet plead I must;

36Therefore I tell my sorrows to the stones;

37Who, though they cannot answer my distress,

38Yet in some sort they are better than the tribunes,

39For that they will not intercept my tale:

40When I do weep, they humbly at my feet

41Receive my tears and seem to weep with me;

42And, were they but attired in grave weeds,

43Rome could afford no tribune like to these.

44A stone is soft as wax,--tribunes more hard than stones;

45A stone is silent, and offendeth not,

46And tribunes with their tongues doom men to death.

47But wherefore stand'st thou with thy weapon drawn?

48To rescue my two brothers from their death:

49For which attempt the judges have pronounced

50My everlasting doom of banishment.

51O happy man! they have befriended thee.

52Why, foolish Lucius, dost thou not perceive

53That Rome is but a wilderness of tigers?

54Tigers must prey, and Rome affords no prey

55But me and mine: how happy art thou, then,

56From these devourers to be banished!

57But who comes with our brother Marcus here?

58Titus, prepare thy aged eyes to weep;

59Or, if not so, thy noble heart to break:

60I bring consuming sorrow to thine age.

61Will it consume me? let me see it, then.

62This was thy daughter.

63Why, Marcus, so she is.

64Ay me, this object kills me!

65Faint-hearted boy, arise, and look upon her.

66Speak, Lavinia, what accursed hand

67Hath made thee handless in thy father's sight?

68What fool hath added water to the sea,

69Or brought a faggot to bright-burning Troy?

70My grief was at the height before thou camest,

71And now like Nilus, it disdaineth bounds.

72Give me a sword, I'll chop off my hands too;

73For they have fought for Rome, and all in vain;

74And they have nursed this woe, in feeding life;

75In bootless prayer have they been held up,

76And they have served me to effectless use:

77Now all the service I require of them

78Is that the one will help to cut the other.

79'Tis well, Lavinia, that thou hast no hands;

80For hands, to do Rome service, are but vain.

81Speak, gentle sister, who hath martyr'd thee?

82O, that delightful engine of her thoughts

83That blabb'd them with such pleasing eloquence,

84Is torn from forth that pretty hollow cage,

85Where, like a sweet melodious bird, it sung

86Sweet varied notes, enchanting every ear!

87O, say thou for her, who hath done this deed?

88O, thus I found her, straying in the park,

89Seeking to hide herself, as doth the deer

90That hath received some unrecuring wound.

91It was my deer; and he that wounded her

92Hath hurt me more than had he killed me dead:

93For now I stand as one upon a rock

94Environed with a wilderness of sea,

95Who marks the waxing tide grow wave by wave,

96Expecting ever when some envious surge

97Will in his brinish bowels swallow him.

98This way to death my wretched sons are gone;

99Here stands my other son, a banished man,

100And here my brother, weeping at my woes.

101But that which gives my soul the greatest spurn,

102Is dear Lavinia, dearer than my soul.

103Had I but seen thy picture in this plight,

104It would have madded me: what shall I do

105Now I behold thy lively body so?

106Thou hast no hands, to wipe away thy tears:

107Nor tongue, to tell me who hath martyr'd thee:

108Thy husband he is dead: and for his death

109Thy brothers are condemn'd, and dead by this.

110Look, Marcus! ah, son Lucius, look on her!

111When I did name her brothers, then fresh tears

112Stood on her cheeks, as doth the honey-dew

113Upon a gather'd lily almost wither'd.

114Perchance she weeps because they kill'd her husband;

115Perchance because she knows them innocent.

116If they did kill thy husband, then be joyful

117Because the law hath ta'en revenge on them.

118No, no, they would not do so foul a deed;

119Witness the sorrow that their sister makes.

120Gentle Lavinia, let me kiss thy lips.

121Or make some sign how I may do thee ease:

122Shall thy good uncle, and thy brother Lucius,

123And thou, and I, sit round about some fountain,

124Looking all downwards to behold our cheeks

125How they are stain'd, as meadows, yet not dry,

126With miry slime left on them by a flood?

127And in the fountain shall we gaze so long

128Till the fresh taste be taken from that clearness,

129And made a brine-pit with our bitter tears?

130Or shall we cut away our hands, like thine?

131Or shall we bite our tongues, and in dumb shows

132Pass the remainder of our hateful days?

133What shall we do? let us, that have our tongues,

134Plot some deuce of further misery,

135To make us wonder'd at in time to come.

136Sweet father, cease your tears; for, at your grief,

137See how my wretched sister sobs and weeps.

138Patience, dear niece. Good Titus, dry thine eyes.

139Ah, Marcus, Marcus! brother, well I wot

140Thy napkin cannot drink a tear of mine,

141For thou, poor man, hast drown'd it with thine own.

142Ah, my Lavinia, I will wipe thy cheeks.

143Mark, Marcus, mark! I understand her signs:

144Had she a tongue to speak, now would she say

145That to her brother which I said to thee:

146His napkin, with his true tears all bewet,

147Can do no service on her sorrowful cheeks.

148O, what a sympathy of woe is this,

149As far from help as Limbo is from bliss!

150Titus Andronicus, my lord the emperor

151Sends thee this word,--that, if thou love thy sons,

152Let Marcus, Lucius, or thyself, old Titus,

153Or any one of you, chop off your hand,

154And send it to the king: he for the same

155Will send thee hither both thy sons alive;

156And that shall be the ransom for their fault.

157O gracious emperor! O gentle Aaron!

158Did ever raven sing so like a lark,

159That gives sweet tidings of the sun's uprise?

160With all my heart, I'll send the emperor My hand:

161Good Aaron, wilt thou help to chop it off?

162Stay, father! for that noble hand of thine,

163That hath thrown down so many enemies,

164Shall not be sent: my hand will serve the turn:

165My youth can better spare my blood than you;

166And therefore mine shall save my brothers' lives.

167Which of your hands hath not defended Rome,

168And rear'd aloft the bloody battle-axe,

169Writing destruction on the enemy's castle?

170O, none of both but are of high desert:

171My hand hath been but idle; let it serve

172To ransom my two nephews from their death;

173Then have I kept it to a worthy end.

174Nay, come, agree whose hand shall go along,

175For fear they die before their pardon come.

176My hand shall go.

177By heaven, it shall not go!

178Sirs, strive no more: such wither'd herbs as these

179Are meet for plucking up, and therefore mine.

180Sweet father, if I shall be thought thy son,

181Let me redeem my brothers both from death.

182And, for our father's sake and mother's care,

183Now let me show a brother's love to thee.

184Agree between you; I will spare my hand.

185Then I'll go fetch an axe.

186But I will use the axe.

187Come hither, Aaron; I'll deceive them both:

188Lend me thy hand, and I will give thee mine.

189[Aside] If that be call'd deceit, I will be honest,

190And never, whilst I live, deceive men so:

191But I'll deceive you in another sort,

192And that you'll say, ere half an hour pass.

193Now stay your strife: what shall be is dispatch'd.

194Good Aaron, give his majesty my hand:

195Tell him it was a hand that warded him

196From thousand dangers; bid him bury it

197More hath it merited; that let it have.

198As for my sons, say I account of them

199As jewels purchased at an easy price;

200And yet dear too, because I bought mine own.

201I go, Andronicus: and for thy hand

202Look by and by to have thy sons with thee.

203Their heads, I mean. O, how this villany

204Doth fat me with the very thoughts of it!

205Let fools do good, and fair men call for grace.

206Aaron will have his soul black like his face.

207O, here I lift this one hand up to heaven,

208And bow this feeble ruin to the earth:

209If any power pities wretched tears,

210To that I call!

211What, wilt thou kneel with me?

212Do, then, dear heart; for heaven shall hear our prayers;

213Or with our sighs we'll breathe the welkin dim,

214And stain the sun with fog, as sometime clouds

215When they do hug him in their melting bosoms.

216O brother, speak with possibilities,

217And do not break into these deep extremes.

218Is not my sorrow deep, having no bottom?

219Then be my passions bottomless with them.

220But yet let reason govern thy lament.

221If there were reason for these miseries,

222Then into limits could I bind my woes:

223When heaven doth weep, doth not the earth o'erflow?

224If the winds rage, doth not the sea wax mad,

225Threatening the welkin with his big-swoln face?

226And wilt thou have a reason for this coil?

227I am the sea; hark, how her sighs do blow!

228She is the weeping welkin, I the earth:

229Then must my sea be moved with her sighs;

230Then must my earth with her continual tears

231Become a deluge, overflow'd and drown'd;

232For why my bowels cannot hide her woes,

233But like a drunkard must I vomit them.

234Then give me leave, for losers will have leave

235To ease their stomachs with their bitter tongues.

236Worthy Andronicus, ill art thou repaid

237For that good hand thou sent'st the emperor.

238Here are the heads of thy two noble sons;

239And here's thy hand, in scorn to thee sent back;

240Thy griefs their sports, thy resolution mock'd;

241That woe is me to think upon thy woes

242More than remembrance of my father's death.

243Now let hot AEtna cool in Sicily,

244And be my heart an ever-burning hell!

245These miseries are more than may be borne.

246To weep with them that weep doth ease some deal;

247But sorrow flouted at is double death.

248Ah, that this sight should make so deep a wound,

249And yet detested life not shrink thereat!

250That ever death should let life bear his name,

251Where life hath no more interest but to breathe!

252Alas, poor heart, that kiss is comfortless

253As frozen water to a starved snake.

254When will this fearful slumber have an end?

255Now, farewell, flattery: die, Andronicus;

256Thou dost not slumber: see, thy two sons' heads,

257Thy warlike hand, thy mangled daughter here:

258Thy other banish'd son, with this dear sight

259Struck pale and bloodless; and thy brother, I,

260Even like a stony image, cold and numb.

261Ah, now no more will I control thy griefs:

262Rend off thy silver hair, thy other hand

263Gnawing with thy teeth; and be this dismal sight

264The closing up of our most wretched eyes;

265Now is a time to storm; why art thou still?

266Ha, ha, ha!

267Why dost thou laugh? it fits not with this hour.

268Why, I have not another tear to shed:

269Besides, this sorrow is an enemy,

270And would usurp upon my watery eyes

271And make them blind with tributary tears:

272Then which way shall I find Revenge's cave?

273For these two heads do seem to speak to me,

274And threat me I shall never come to bliss

275Till all these mischiefs be return'd again

276Even in their throats that have committed them.

277Come, let me see what task I have to do.

278You heavy people, circle me about,

279That I may turn me to each one of you,

280And swear unto my soul to right your wrongs.

281The vow is made. Come, brother, take a head;

282And in this hand the other I will bear.

283Lavinia, thou shalt be employ'd: these arms!

284Bear thou my hand, sweet wench, between thy teeth.

285As for thee, boy, go get thee from my sight;

286Thou art an exile, and thou must not stay:

287Hie to the Goths, and raise an army there:

288And, if you love me, as I think you do,

289Let's kiss and part, for we have much to do.

290Farewell Andronicus, my noble father,

291The wofull'st man that ever lived in Rome:

292Farewell, proud Rome; till Lucius come again,

293He leaves his pledges dearer than his life:

294Farewell, Lavinia, my noble sister;

295O, would thou wert as thou tofore hast been!

296But now nor Lucius nor Lavinia lives

297But in oblivion and hateful griefs.

298If Lucius live, he will requite your wrongs;

299And make proud Saturnine and his empress

300Beg at the gates, like Tarquin and his queen.

301Now will I to the Goths, and raise a power,

302To be revenged on Rome and Saturnine.

1So, so; now sit: and look you eat no more

2Than will preserve just so much strength in us

3As will revenge these bitter woes of ours.

4Marcus, unknit that sorrow-wreathen knot:

5Thy niece and I, poor creatures, want our hands,

6And cannot passionate our tenfold grief

7With folded arms. This poor right hand of mine

8Is left to tyrannize upon my breast;

9Who, when my heart, all mad with misery,

10Beats in this hollow prison of my flesh,

11Then thus I thump it down.

12Thou map of woe, that thus dost talk in signs!

13When thy poor heart beats with outrageous beating,

14Thou canst not strike it thus to make it still.

15Wound it with sighing, girl, kill it with groans;

16Or get some little knife between thy teeth,

17And just against thy heart make thou a hole;

18That all the tears that thy poor eyes let fall

19May run into that sink, and soaking in

20Drown the lamenting fool in sea-salt tears.

21Fie, brother, fie! teach her not thus to lay

22Such violent hands upon her tender life.

23How now! has sorrow made thee dote already?

24Why, Marcus, no man should be mad but I.

25What violent hands can she lay on her life?

26Ah, wherefore dost thou urge the name of hands;

27To bid AEneas tell the tale twice o'er,

28How Troy was burnt and he made miserable?

29O, handle not the theme, to talk of hands,

30Lest we remember still that we have none.

31Fie, fie, how franticly I square my talk,

32As if we should forget we had no hands,

33If Marcus did not name the word of hands!

34Come, let's fall to; and, gentle girl, eat this:

35Here is no drink! Hark, Marcus, what she says;

36I can interpret all her martyr'd signs;

37She says she drinks no other drink but tears,

38Brew'd with her sorrow, mesh'd upon her cheeks:

39Speechless complainer, I will learn thy thought;

40In thy dumb action will I be as perfect

41As begging hermits in their holy prayers:

42Thou shalt not sigh, nor hold thy stumps to heaven,

43Nor wink, nor nod, nor kneel, nor make a sign,

44But I of these will wrest an alphabet

45And by still practise learn to know thy meaning.

46Good grandsire, leave these bitter deep laments:

47Make my aunt merry with some pleasing tale.

48Alas, the tender boy, in passion moved,

49Doth weep to see his grandsire's heaviness.

50Peace, tender sapling; thou art made of tears,

51And tears will quickly melt thy life away.

52What dost thou strike at, Marcus, with thy knife?

53At that that I have kill'd, my lord; a fly.

54Out on thee, murderer! thou kill'st my heart;

55Mine eyes are cloy'd with view of tyranny:

56A deed of death done on the innocent

57Becomes not Titus' brother: get thee gone:

58I see thou art not for my company.

59Alas, my lord, I have but kill'd a fly.

60But how, if that fly had a father and mother?

61How would he hang his slender gilded wings,

62And buzz lamenting doings in the air!

63Poor harmless fly,

64That, with his pretty buzzing melody,

65Came here to make us merry! and thou hast

66kill'd him.

67Pardon me, sir; it was a black ill-favor'd fly,

68Like to the empress' Moor; therefore I kill'd him.

69O, O, O,

70Then pardon me for reprehending thee,

71For thou hast done a charitable deed.

72Give me thy knife, I will insult on him;

73Flattering myself, as if it were the Moor

74Come hither purposely to poison me.--

75There's for thyself, and that's for Tamora.

76Ah, sirrah!

77Yet, I think, we are not brought so low,

78But that between us we can kill a fly

79That comes in likeness of a coal-black Moor.

80Alas, poor man! grief has so wrought on him,

81He takes false shadows for true substances.

82Come, take away. Lavinia, go with me:

83I'll to thy closet; and go read with thee

84Sad stories chanced in the times of old.

85Come, boy, and go with me: thy sight is young,

86And thou shalt read when mine begin to dazzle.

1Help, grandsire, help! my aunt Lavinia

2Follows me every where, I know not why:

3Good uncle Marcus, see how swift she comes.

4Alas, sweet aunt, I know not what you mean.

5Stand by me, Lucius; do not fear thine aunt.

6She loves thee, boy, too well to do thee harm.

7Ay, when my father was in Rome she did.

8What means my niece Lavinia by these signs?

9Fear her not, Lucius: somewhat doth she mean:

10See, Lucius, see how much she makes of thee:

11Somewhither would she have thee go with her.

12Ah, boy, Cornelia never with more care

13Read to her sons than she hath read to thee

14Sweet poetry and Tully's Orator.

15Canst thou not guess wherefore she plies thee thus?

16My lord, I know not, I, nor can I guess,

17Unless some fit or frenzy do possess her:

18For I have heard my grandsire say full oft,

19Extremity of griefs would make men mad;

20And I have read that Hecuba of Troy

21Ran mad through sorrow: that made me to fear;

22Although, my lord, I know my noble aunt

23Loves me as dear as e'er my mother did,

24And would not, but in fury, fright my youth:

25Which made me down to throw my books, and fly--

26Causeless, perhaps. But pardon me, sweet aunt:

27And, madam, if my uncle Marcus go,

28I will most willingly attend your ladyship.

29Lucius, I will.

30How now, Lavinia! Marcus, what means this?

31Some book there is that she desires to see.

32Which is it, girl, of these? Open them, boy.

33But thou art deeper read, and better skill'd

34Come, and take choice of all my library,

35And so beguile thy sorrow, till the heavens

36Reveal the damn'd contriver of this deed.

37Why lifts she up her arms in sequence thus?

38I think she means that there was more than one

39Confederate in the fact: ay, more there was;

40Or else to heaven she heaves them for revenge.

41Lucius, what book is that she tosseth so?

42Grandsire, 'tis Ovid's Metamorphoses;

43My mother gave it me.

44For love of her that's gone,

45Perhaps she cull'd it from among the rest.

46Soft! see how busily she turns the leaves!

47What would she find? Lavinia, shall I read?

48This is the tragic tale of Philomel,

49And treats of Tereus' treason and his rape:

50And rape, I fear, was root of thine annoy.

51See, brother, see; note how she quotes the leaves.

52Lavinia, wert thou thus surprised, sweet girl,

53Ravish'd and wrong'd, as Philomela was,

54Forced in the ruthless, vast, and gloomy woods? See, see!

55Ay, such a place there is, where we did hunt--

56O, had we never, never hunted there!--

57Pattern'd by that the poet here describes,

58By nature made for murders and for rapes.

59O, why should nature build so foul a den,

60Unless the gods delight in tragedies?

61Give signs, sweet girl, for here are none

62but friends,

63What Roman lord it was durst do the deed:

64Or slunk not Saturnine, as Tarquin erst,

65That left the camp to sin in Lucrece' bed?

66Sit down, sweet niece: brother, sit down by me.

67Apollo, Pallas, Jove, or Mercury,

68Inspire me, that I may this treason find!

69My lord, look here: look here, Lavinia:

70This sandy plot is plain; guide, if thou canst

71This after me, when I have writ my name

72Without the help of any hand at all.

73Cursed be that heart that forced us to this shift!

74Write thou good niece; and here display, at last,

75What God will have discover'd for revenge;

76Heaven guide thy pen to print thy sorrows plain,

77That we may know the traitors and the truth!

78O, do ye read, my lord, what she hath writ?

79'Stuprum. Chiron. Demetrius.'

80What, what! the lustful sons of Tamora

81Performers of this heinous, bloody deed?

82Magni Dominator poli,

83Tam lentus audis scelera? tam lentus vides?

84O, calm thee, gentle lord; although I know

85There is enough written upon this earth

86To stir a mutiny in the mildest thoughts

87And arm the minds of infants to exclaims.

88My lord, kneel down with me; Lavinia, kneel;

89And kneel, sweet boy, the Roman Hector's hope;

90And swear with me, as, with the woful fere

91And father of that chaste dishonour'd dame,

92Lord Junius Brutus sware for Lucrece' rape,

93That we will prosecute by good advice

94Mortal revenge upon these traitorous Goths,

95And see their blood, or die with this reproach.

96'Tis sure enough, an you knew how.

97But if you hunt these bear-whelps, then beware:

98The dam will wake; and, if she wind you once,

99She's with the lion deeply still in league,

100And lulls him whilst she playeth on her back,

101And when he sleeps will she do what she list.

102You are a young huntsman, Marcus; let it alone;

103And, come, I will go get a leaf of brass,

104And with a gad of steel will write these words,

105And lay it by: the angry northern wind

106Will blow these sands, like Sibyl's leaves, abroad,

107And where's your lesson, then? Boy, what say you?

108I say, my lord, that if I were a man,

109Their mother's bed-chamber should not be safe

110For these bad bondmen to the yoke of Rome.

111Ay, that's my boy! thy father hath full oft

112For his ungrateful country done the like.

113And, uncle, so will I, an if I live.

114Come, go with me into mine armoury;

115Lucius, I'll fit thee; and withal, my boy,

116Shalt carry from me to the empress' sons

117Presents that I intend to send them both:

118Come, come; thou'lt do thy message, wilt thou not?

119Ay, with my dagger in their bosoms, grandsire.

120No, boy, not so; I'll teach thee another course.

121Lavinia, come. Marcus, look to my house:

122Lucius and I'll go brave it at the court:

123Ay, marry, will we, sir; and we'll be waited on.

124O heavens, can you hear a good man groan,

125And not relent, or not compassion him?

126Marcus, attend him in his ecstasy,

127That hath more scars of sorrow in his heart

128Than foemen's marks upon his batter'd shield;

129But yet so just that he will not revenge.

130Revenge, ye heavens, for old Andronicus!

1Demetrius, here's the son of Lucius;

2He hath some message to deliver us.

3Ay, some mad message from his mad grandfather.

4My lords, with all the humbleness I may,

5I greet your honours from Andronicus.

6And pray the Roman gods confound you both!

7Gramercy, lovely Lucius: what's the news?

8[Aside] That you are both decipher'd, that's the news,

9For villains mark'd with rape.--May it please you,

10My grandsire, well advised, hath sent by me

11The goodliest weapons of his armoury

12To gratify your honourable youth,

13The hope of Rome; for so he bade me say;

14And so I do, and with his gifts present

15Your lordships, that, whenever you have need,

16You may be armed and appointed well:

17And so I leave you both:

18like bloody villains.

19What's here? A scroll; and written round about?

20Let's see;

21'Integer vitae, scelerisque purus,

22Non eget Mauri jaculis, nec arcu.'

23O, 'tis a verse in Horace; I know it well:

24I read it in the grammar long ago.

25Ay, just; a verse in Horace; right, you have it.

26Now, what a thing it is to be an ass!

27Here's no sound jest! the old man hath found their guilt;

28And sends them weapons wrapped about with lines,

29That wound, beyond their feeling, to the quick.

30But were our witty empress well afoot,

31She would applaud Andronicus' conceit:

32But let her rest in her unrest awhile.

33And now, young lords, was't not a happy star

34Led us to Rome, strangers, and more than so,

35Captives, to be advanced to this height?

36It did me good, before the palace gate

37To brave the tribune in his brother's hearing.

38But me more good, to see so great a lord

39Basely insinuate and send us gifts.

40Had he not reason, Lord Demetrius?

41Did you not use his daughter very friendly?

42I would we had a thousand Roman dames

43At such a bay, by turn to serve our lust.

44A charitable wish and full of love.

45Here lacks but your mother for to say amen.

46And that would she for twenty thousand more.

47Come, let us go; and pray to all the gods

48For our beloved mother in her pains.

49[Aside] Pray to the devils; the gods have given us over.

50Why do the emperor's trumpets flourish thus?

51Belike, for joy the emperor hath a son.

52Soft! who comes here?

53Good morr ow, lords:

54O, tell me, did you see Aaron the Moor?

55Well, more or less, or ne'er a whit at all,

56Here Aaron is; and what with Aaron now?

57O gentle Aaron, we are all undone!

58Now help, or woe betide thee evermore!

59Why, what a caterwauling dost thou keep!

60What dost thou wrap and fumble in thine arms?

61O, that which I would hide from heaven's eye,

62Our empress' shame, and stately Rome's disgrace!

63She is deliver'd, lords; she is deliver'd.

64To whom?

65I mean, she is brought a-bed.

66Well, God give her good rest! What hath he sent her?

67A devil.

68Why, then she is the devil's dam; a joyful issue.

69A joyless, dismal, black, and sorrowful issue:

70Here is the babe, as loathsome as a toad

71Amongst the fairest breeders of our clime:

72The empress sends it thee, thy stamp, thy seal,

73And bids thee christen it with thy dagger's point.

74'Zounds, ye whore! is black so base a hue?

75Sweet blowse, you are a beauteous blossom, sure.

76Villain, what hast thou done?

77That which thou canst not undo.

78Thou hast undone our mother.

79Villain, I have done thy mother.

80And therein, hellish dog, thou hast undone.

81Woe to her chance, and damn'd her loathed choice!

82Accursed the offspring of so foul a fiend!

83It shall not live.

84It shall not die.

85Aaron, it must; the mother wills it so.

86What, must it, nurse? then let no man but I

87Do execution on my flesh and blood.

88I'll broach the tadpole on my rapier's point:

89Nurse, give it me; my sword shall soon dispatch it.

90Sooner this sword shall plough thy bowels up.

91Stay, murderous villains! will you kill your brother?

92Now, by the burning tapers of the sky,

93That shone so brightly when this boy was got,

94He dies upon my scimitar's sharp point

95That touches this my first-born son and heir!

96I tell you, younglings, not Enceladus,

97With all his threatening band of Typhon's brood,

98Nor great Alcides, nor the god of war,

99Shall seize this prey out of his father's hands.

100What, what, ye sanguine, shallow-hearted boys!

101Ye white-limed walls! ye alehouse painted signs!

102Coal-black is better than another hue,

103In that it scorns to bear another hue;

104For all the water in the ocean

105Can never turn the swan's black legs to white,

106Although she lave them hourly in the flood.

107Tell the empress from me, I am of age

108To keep mine own, excuse it how she can.

109Wilt thou betray thy noble mistress thus?

110My mistress is my mistress; this myself,

111The vigour and the picture of my youth:

112This before all the world do I prefer;

113This maugre all the world will I keep safe,

114Or some of you shall smoke for it in Rome.

115By this our mother is forever shamed.

116Rome will despise her for this foul escape.

117The emperor, in his rage, will doom her death.

118I blush to think upon this ignomy.

119Why, there's the privilege your beauty bears:

120Fie, treacherous hue, that will betray with blushing

121The close enacts and counsels of the heart!

122Here's a young lad framed of another leer:

123Look, how the black slave smiles upon the father,

124As who should say 'Old lad, I am thine own.'

125He is your brother, lords, sensibly fed

126Of that self-blood that first gave life to you,

127And from that womb where you imprison'd were

128He is enfranchised and come to light:

129Nay, he is your brother by the surer side,

130Although my seal be stamped in his face.

131Aaron, what shall I say unto the empress?

132Advise thee, Aaron, what is to be done,

133And we will all subscribe to thy advice:

134Save thou the child, so we may all be safe.

135Then sit we down, and let us all consult.

136My son and I will have the wind of you:

137Keep there: now talk at pleasure of your safety.

138How many women saw this child of his?

139Why, so, brave lords! when we join in league,

140I am a lamb: but if you brave the Moor,

141The chafed boar, the mountain lioness,

142The ocean swells not so as Aaron storms.

143But say, again; how many saw the child?

144Cornelia the midwife and myself;

145And no one else but the deliver'd empress.

146The empress, the midwife, and yourself:

147Two may keep counsel when the third's away:

148Go to the empress, tell her this I said.

149Weke, weke! so cries a pig prepared to the spit.

150What mean'st thou, Aaron? wherefore didst thou this?

151O Lord, sir, 'tis a deed of policy:

152Shall she live to betray this guilt of ours,

153A long-tongued babbling gossip? no, lords, no:

154And now be it known to you my full intent.

155Not far, one Muli lives, my countryman;

156His wife but yesternight was brought to bed;

157His child is like to her, fair as you are:

158Go pack with him, and give the mother gold,

159And tell them both the circumstance of all;

160And how by this their child shall be advanced,

161And be received for the emperor's heir,

162And substituted in the place of mine,

163To calm this tempest whirling in the court;

164And let the emperor dandle him for his own.

165Hark ye, lords; ye see I have given her physic,

166And you must needs bestow her funeral;

167The fields are near, and you are gallant grooms:

168This done, see that you take no longer days,

169But send the midwife presently to me.

170The midwife and the nurse well made away,

171Then let the ladies tattle what they please.

172Aaron, I see thou wilt not trust the air

173With secrets.

174For this care of Tamora,

175Herself and hers are highly bound to thee.

176Now to the Goths, as swift as swallow flies;

177There to dispose this treasure in mine arms,

178And secretly to greet the empress' friends.

179Come on, you thick lipp'd slave, I'll bear you hence;

180For it is you that puts us to our shifts:

181I'll make you feed on berries and on roots,

182And feed on curds and whey, and suck the goat,

183And cabin in a cave, and bring you up

184To be a warrior, and command a camp.

1Come, Marcus; come, kinsmen; this is the way.

2Sir boy, now let me see your archery;

3Look ye draw home enough, and 'tis there straight.

4Terras Astraea reliquit:

5Be you remember'd, Marcus, she's gone, she's fled.

6Sirs, take you to your tools. You, cousins, shall

7Go sound the ocean, and cast your nets;

8Happily you may catch her in the sea;

9Yet there's as little justice as at land:

10No; Publius and Sempronius, you must do it;

11'Tis you must dig with mattock and with spade,

12And pierce the inmost centre of the earth:

13Then, when you come to Pluto's region,

14I pray you, deliver him this petition;

15Tell him, it is for justice and for aid,

16And that it comes from old Andronicus,

17Shaken with sorrows in ungrateful Rome.

18Ah, Rome! Well, well; I made thee miserable

19What time I threw the people's suffrages

20On him that thus doth tyrannize o'er me.

21Go, get you gone; and pray be careful all,

22And leave you not a man-of-war unsearch'd:

23This wicked emperor may have shipp'd her hence;

24And, kinsmen, then we may go pipe for justice.

25O Publius, is not this a heavy case,

26To see thy noble uncle thus distract?

27Therefore, my lord, it highly us concerns

28By day and night to attend him carefully,

29And feed his humour kindly as we may,

30Till time beget some careful remedy.

31Kinsmen, his sorrows are past remedy.

32Join with the Goths; and with revengeful war

33Take wreak on Rome for this ingratitude,

34And vengeance on the traitor Saturnine.

35Publius, how now! how now, my masters!

36What, have you met with her?

37No, my good lord; but Pluto sends you word,

38If you will have Revenge from hell, you shall:

39Marry, for Justice, she is so employ'd,

40He thinks, with Jove in heaven, or somewhere else,

41So that perforce you must needs stay a time.

42He doth me wrong to feed me with delays.

43I'll dive into the burning lake below,

44And pull her out of Acheron by the heels.

45Marcus, we are but shrubs, no cedars we

46No big-boned men framed of the Cyclops' size;

47But metal, Marcus, steel to the very back,

48Yet wrung with wrongs more than our backs can bear:

49And, sith there's no justice in earth nor hell,

50We will solicit heaven and move the gods

51To send down Justice for to wreak our wrongs.

52Come, to this gear. You are a good archer, Marcus;

53'Ad Jovem,' that's for you: here, 'Ad Apollinem:'

54'Ad Martem,' that's for myself:

55Here, boy, to Pallas: here, to Mercury:

56To Saturn, Caius, not to Saturnine;

57You were as good to shoot against the wind.

58To it, boy! Marcus, loose when I bid.

59Of my word, I have written to effect;

60There's not a god left unsolicited.

61Kinsmen, shoot all your shafts into the court:

62We will afflict the emperor in his pride.

63Now, masters, draw.

64O, well said, Lucius!

65Good boy, in Virgo's lap; give it Pallas.

66My lord, I aim a mile beyond the moon;

67Your letter is with Jupiter by this.

68Ha, ha!

69Publius, Publius, what hast thou done?

70See, see, thou hast shot off one of Taurus' horns.

71This was the sport, my lord: when Publius shot,

72The Bull, being gall'd, gave Aries such a knock

73That down fell both the Ram's horns in the court;

74And who should find them but the empress' villain?

75She laugh'd, and told the Moor he should not choose

76But give them to his master for a present.

77Why, there it goes: God give his lordship joy!

78News, news from heaven! Marcus, the post is come.

79Sirrah, what tidings? have you any letters?

80Shall I have justice? what says Jupiter?

81O, the gibbet-maker! he says that he hath taken

82them down again, for the man must not be hanged till

83the next week.

84But what says Jupiter, I ask thee?

85Alas, sir, I know not Jupiter; I never drank with him

86in all my life.

87Why, villain, art not thou the carrier?

88Ay, of my pigeons, sir; nothing else.

89Why, didst thou not come from heaven?

90From heaven! alas, sir, I never came there God

91forbid I should be so bold to press to heaven in my

92young days. Why, I am going with my pigeons to the

93tribunal plebs, to take up a matter of brawl

94betwixt my uncle and one of the emperial's men.

95Why, sir, that is as fit as can be to serve for

96your oration; and let him deliver the pigeons to

97the emperor from you.

98Tell me, can you deliver an oration to the emperor

99with a grace?

100Nay, truly, sir, I could never say grace in all my life.

101Sirrah, come hither: make no more ado,

102But give your pigeons to the emperor:

103By me thou shalt have justice at his hands.

104Hold, hold; meanwhile here's money for thy charges.

105Give me pen and ink. Sirrah, can you with a grace

106deliver a supplication?

107Ay, sir.

108Then here is a supplication for you. And when you

109come to him, at the first approach you must kneel,

110then kiss his foot, then deliver up your pigeons, and

111then look for your reward. I'll be at hand, sir; see

112you do it bravely.

113I warrant you, sir, let me alone.

114Sirrah, hast thou a knife? come, let me see it.

115Here, Marcus, fold it in the oration;

116For thou hast made it like an humble suppliant.

117And when thou hast given it the emperor,

118Knock at my door, and tell me what he says.

119God be with you, sir; I will.

120Come, Marcus, let us go. Publius, follow me.

1Why, lords, what wrongs are these! was ever seen

2An emperor in Rome thus overborne,

3Troubled, confronted thus; and, for the extent

4Of egal justice, used in such contempt?

5My lords, you know, as know the mightful gods,

6However these disturbers of our peace

7Buz in the people's ears, there nought hath pass'd,

8But even with law, against the willful sons

9Of old Andronicus. And what an if

10His sorrows have so overwhelm'd his wits,

11Shall we be thus afflicted in his wreaks,

12His fits, his frenzy, and his bitterness?

13And now he writes to heaven for his redress:

14See, here's to Jove, and this to Mercury;

15This to Apollo; this to the god of war;

16Sweet scrolls to fly about the streets of Rome!

17What's this but libelling against the senate,

18And blazoning our injustice every where?

19A goodly humour, is it not, my lords?

20As who would say, in Rome no justice were.

21But if I live, his feigned ecstasies

22Shall be no shelter to these outrages:

23But he and his shall know that justice lives

24In Saturninus' health, whom, if she sleep,

25He'll so awake as she in fury shall

26Cut off the proud'st conspirator that lives.

27My gracious lord, my lovely Saturnine,

28Lord of my life, commander of my thoughts,

29Calm thee, and bear the faults of Titus' age,

30The effects of sorrow for his valiant sons,

31Whose loss hath pierced him deep and scarr'd his heart;

32And rather comfort his distressed plight

33Than prosecute the meanest or the best

34For these contempts.

35Why, thus it shall become

36High-witted Tamora to gloze with all:

37But, Titus, I have touched thee to the quick,

38Thy life-blood out: if Aaron now be wise,

39Then is all safe, the anchor's in the port.

40How now, good fellow! wouldst thou speak with us?

41Yea, forsooth, an your mistership be emperial.

42Empress I am, but yonder sits the emperor.

43'Tis he. God and Saint Stephen give you good den:

44I have brought you a letter and a couple of pigeons here.

45Go, take him away, and hang him presently.

46How much money must I have?

47Come, sirrah, you must be hanged.

48Hanged! by'r lady, then I have brought up a neck to

49a fair end.

50Despiteful and intolerable wrongs!

51Shall I endure this monstrous villany?

52I know from whence this same device proceeds:

53May this be borne?--as if his traitorous sons,

54That died by law for murder of our brother,

55Have by my means been butcher'd wrongfully!

56Go, drag the villain hither by the hair;

57Nor age nor honour shall shape privilege:

58For this proud mock I'll be thy slaughterman;

59Sly frantic wretch, that holp'st to make me great,

60In hope thyself should govern Rome and me.

61What news with thee, AEmilius?

62Arm, arm, my lord;--Rome never had more cause.

63The Goths have gather'd head; and with a power

64high-resolved men, bent to the spoil,

65They hither march amain, under conduct

66Of Lucius, son to old Andronicus;

67Who threats, in course of this revenge, to do

68As much as ever Coriolanus did.

69Is warlike Lucius general of the Goths?

70These tidings nip me, and I hang the head

71As flowers with frost or grass beat down with storms:

72Ay, now begin our sorrows to approach:

73'Tis he the common people love so much;

74Myself hath often over-heard them say,

75When I have walked like a private man,

76That Lucius' banishment was wrongfully,

77And they have wish'd that Lucius were their emperor.

78Why should you fear? is not your city strong?

79Ay, but the citizens favor Lucius,

80And will revolt from me to succor him.

81King, be thy thoughts imperious, like thy name.

82Is the sun dimm'd, that gnats do fly in it?

83The eagle suffers little birds to sing,

84And is not careful what they mean thereby,

85Knowing that with the shadow of his wings

86He can at pleasure stint their melody:

87Even so mayst thou the giddy men of Rome.

88Then cheer thy spirit: for know, thou emperor,

89I will enchant the old Andronicus

90With words more sweet, and yet more dangerous,

91Than baits to fish, or honey-stalks to sheep,

92When as the one is wounded with the bait,

93The other rotted with delicious feed.

94But he will not entreat his son for us.

95If Tamora entreat him, then he will:

96For I can smooth and fill his aged ear

97With golden promises; that, were his heart

98Almost impregnable, his old ears deaf,

99Yet should both ear and heart obey my tongue.

100Go thou before, be our ambassador:

101Say that the emperor requests a parley

102Of warlike Lucius, and appoint the meeting

103Even at his father's house, the old Andronicus.

104AEmilius, do this message honourably:

105And if he stand on hostage for his safety,

106Bid him demand what pledge will please him best.

107Your bidding shall I do effectually.

108Now will I to that old Andronicus;

109And temper him with all the art I have,

110To pluck proud Lucius from the warlike Goths.

111And now, sweet emperor, be blithe again,

112And bury all thy fear in my devices.

113Then go successantly, and plead to him.

1Approved warriors, and my faithful friends,

2I have received letters from great Rome,

3Which signify what hate they bear their emperor

4And how desirous of our sight they are.

5Therefore, great lords, be, as your titles witness,

6Imperious and impatient of your wrongs,

7And wherein Rome hath done you any scath,

8Let him make treble satisfaction.

9Brave slip, sprung from the great Andronicus,

10Whose name was once our terror, now our comfort;

11Whose high exploits and honourable deeds

12Ingrateful Rome requites with foul contempt,

13Be bold in us: we'll follow where thou lead'st,

14Like stinging bees in hottest summer's day

15Led by their master to the flowered fields,

16And be avenged on cursed Tamora.

17And as he saith, so say we all with him.

18I humbly thank him, and I thank you all.

19But who comes here, led by a lusty Goth?

20Renowned Lucius, from our troops I stray'd

21To gaze upon a ruinous monastery;

22And, as I earnestly did fix mine eye

23Upon the wasted building, suddenly

24I heard a child cry underneath a wall.

25I made unto the noise; when soon I heard

26The crying babe controll'd with this discourse:

27'Peace, tawny slave, half me and half thy dam!

28Did not thy hue bewray whose brat thou art,

29Had nature lent thee but thy mother's look,

30Villain, thou mightst have been an emperor:

31But where the bull and cow are both milk-white,

32They never do beget a coal-black calf.

33Peace, villain, peace!'--even thus he rates

34the babe,--

35'For I must bear thee to a trusty Goth;

36Who, when he knows thou art the empress' babe,

37Will hold thee dearly for thy mother's sake.'

38With this, my weapon drawn, I rush'd upon him,

39Surprised him suddenly, and brought him hither,

40To use as you think needful of the man.

41O worthy Goth, this is the incarnate devil

42That robb'd Andronicus of his good hand;

43This is the pearl that pleased your empress' eye,

44And here's the base fruit of his burning lust.

45Say, wall-eyed slave, whither wouldst thou convey

46This growing image of thy fiend-like face?

47Why dost not speak? what, deaf? not a word?

48A halter, soldiers! hang him on this tree.

49And by his side his fruit of bastardy.

50Touch not the boy; he is of royal blood.

51Too like the sire for ever being good.

52First hang the child, that he may see it sprawl;

53A sight to vex the father's soul withal.

54Get me a ladder.

55Lucius, save the child,

56And bear it from me to the empress.

57If thou do this, I'll show thee wondrous things,

58That highly may advantage thee to hear:

59If thou wilt not, befall what may befall,

60I'll speak no more but 'Vengeance rot you all!'

61Say on: an if it please me which thou speak'st

62Thy child shall live, and I will see it nourish'd.

63An if it please thee! why, assure thee, Lucius,

64'Twill vex thy soul to hear what I shall speak;

65For I must talk of murders, rapes and massacres,

66Acts of black night, abominable deeds,

67Complots of mischief, treason, villanies

68Ruthful to hear, yet piteously perform'd:

69And this shall all be buried by my death,

70Unless thou swear to me my child shall live.

71Tell on thy mind; I say thy child shall live.

72Swear that he shall, and then I will begin.

73Who should I swear by? thou believest no god:

74That granted, how canst thou believe an oath?

75What if I do not? as, indeed, I do not;

76Yet, for I know thou art religious

77And hast a thing within thee called conscience,

78With twenty popish tricks and ceremonies,

79Which I have seen thee careful to observe,

80Therefore I urge thy oath; for that I know

81An idiot holds his bauble for a god

82And keeps the oath which by that god he swears,

83To that I'll urge him: therefore thou shalt vow

84By that same god, what god soe'er it be,

85That thou adorest and hast in reverence,

86To save my boy, to nourish and bring him up;

87Or else I will discover nought to thee.

88Even by my god I swear to thee I will.

89First know thou, I begot him on the empress.

90O most insatiate and luxurious woman!

91Tut, Lucius, this was but a deed of charity

92To that which thou shalt hear of me anon.

93'Twas her two sons that murder'd Bassianus;

94They cut thy sister's tongue and ravish'd her

95And cut her hands and trimm'd her as thou saw'st.

96O detestable villain! call'st thou that trimming?

97Why, she was wash'd and cut and trimm'd, and 'twas

98Trim sport for them that had the doing of it.

99O barbarous, beastly villains, like thyself!

100Indeed, I was their tutor to instruct them:

101That codding spirit had they from their mother,

102As sure a card as ever won the set;

103That bloody mind, I think, they learn'd of me,

104As true a dog as ever fought at head.

105Well, let my deeds be witness of my worth.

106I train'd thy brethren to that guileful hole

107Where the dead corpse of Bassianus lay:

108I wrote the letter that thy father found