For villains mark'd with rape. [Aside.] May it please you,

My grandsire, well-advis'd, hath sent by me
The goodliest weapons of his armoury,
To gratify your honourable youth,

The hope of Rome; for so he bade me say;
And so I do, and with his gifts present
Your lordships, that whenever you have need,
You may be armed and appointed well :
And so I leave you both, [Aside.] like bloody vil-
[Exeunt Boy and Attendant.
Dem. What's here? A scroll; and written round
about?

Let's see;

lains.

Integer vitæ, scelerisque purus,

Non eget Mauri jaculis, nec arcu.

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

Aar. Ay, just! -a verse in Horace ;-right, you have it.

Now, what a thing it is to be an ass! Here's no sound jest! the old man hath found their guilt;

And sends the weapons wrapp'd about with

lines,

That wound, beyond their feeling, to the

quick.

Aside.

But were our witty empress well a-foot,
She would applaud Andronicus' conceit.
But let her rest in her unrest awhile. —
And now, young lords, was't not a happy star
Led us to Rome, strangers, and, more than so,
Captives, to be advanced to this height?
It did me good, before the palace gate
To brave the tribune in his brother's hearing.
Dem. But me more good, to see so great a lord
Basely insinuate, and send us gifts.

Aar. Had he not reason, lord Demetrius?
Did you not use his daughter very friendly?
Dem. I would, we had a thousand Roman dames
At such a bay, by turn to serve our lust.

Chi. A charitable wish, and full of love. Aar. Here lacks but your mother for to say amen. Chi. And that would she for twenty thousand more. Dem. Come, let us go; and pray to all the gods, For our beloved mother in her pains. Aar. Pray to the devils; the gods have given us [Aside. Flourish. Dem. Why do the emperor's trumpets flourish thus?

o'er.

Chi. Belike, for joy the emperor hath a son.
Dem. Soft; who comes here?

Enter a Nurse, with a black-a-moor child in her arms.
Nur.
Good morrow, lords:
O, tell me, did you see Aaron the Moor.
Aar. Well, more or less, or ne'er a whit at all,
Here Aaron is; and what with Aaron now?
Nur. O gentle Aaron, we are all undone !
Now help, or woe betide thee evermore!

Aar. Why, what a caterwauling dost thou keep? What dost thou wrap and fumble in thine arms? Nur. O, that which I would hide from heaven's eye,

Our empress' shame, and stately Rome's disgrace;
She is deliver'd, lords, she is deliver'd.
Aar. To whom?

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

Nur. A joyless, dismal, black, and sorrowful issue:
Here is the babe, as loathsome as a toad
Amongst the fairest breeders of our clime.
The empress sends it thee, thy stamp, thy seal,
And bids thee christen it with thy dagger's point.
Aar. Out, out, you whore! is black so base a
hue?-

Sweet blowse, you are a beauteous blossom, surë.
Dem. Villain, what hast thou done?
Aar.

Canst not undo.

Chi.

Done! that which thou

Thou hast undone our mother. Aar. Villain, I have done thy mother.

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

Chi. It shall not live. Aar.

It shall not die. Nur. Aaron, it must: the mother wills it so. Aar. What, must it, nurse? then let no man, but I,

Do execution on my flesh and blood.

Dem. I'll broach the tadpole on my rapier's point; Nurse, give it me; my sword shall soon despatch it. Aar. Sooner this sword shall plow thy bowels up.

[Takes the child from the Nurse, and draws. Stay, murderous villains! will you kill your brother? Now, by the burning taper of the sky That shone so brightly when this boy was got, He dies upon my scimitar's sharp point, That touches this my first-born son and heir! I tell you, younglings, not Enceladus, With all his threat'ning band of Typhon's brood, Nor great Alcides, nor the god of war, Shall seize this prey out of his father's hands. What, what; ye sanguine, shallow-hearted boys! Ye white-lim'd walls! ye alehouse painted signs! Coal-black is better than another hue, In that it scorns to bear another hue: For all the water in the ocean Can never turn å swan's black legs to white, Although she lave them hourly in the flood. Tell the emperess from me, I am of age To keep mine own; excuse it how she can.

Dem. Wilt thou betray thy noble mistress thus?, Aar. My mistress is my mistress; this, myself; The vigour, and the picture of my youth: This, before all the world, do I prefer ; This, maugre all the world, will I keep safe, Or some of you shall smoke for it in Rome. Dem. By this our mother is for ever sham'd. Chi. Rome will despise her for this foul escape. Nur. The emperor, in his rage, will doom har death.

Chi. I blush to think upon this ignomy.

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

Tit. Ha! Publius, Publius, what hast thou done! | See, see, thou hast shot off one of Taurus' horns. . Mar. This was the sport, my lord: when Publius shot,

The bull being gall'd, gave Aries such a knock That down fell both the ram's horns in the court; And who should find them but the empress' villain? She laugh'd, and told the Moor, he should not choose

But give them to his master for a present.

Tit. Why, there it goes: God give your lordship joy.

Enter a Clown, with a basket, and two pigeons. News, news from heaven! Marcus, the post is come, Sirrah, what tidings? have you any letters? Shall I have justice? what says Jupiter?

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

Tit. But what says Jupiter, I ask thee? Clo. Alas, sir, I know not Jupiter; I never drank with him in all my life.

Tit. Why, villain, art not thou the carrier? Clo. Ay, of my pigeons, sir; nothing else. Tit. Why, didst thou not come from heaven? Clo. From heaven? alas, sir, I never came there : God forbid, I should be so bold to press to heaven in my young days. Why, I am going with my pigeons to the tribunal plebs, to take up a matter of brawl betwixt my uncle and one of the emperial's

men.

Mar. Why, sir, that is as fit as can be, to serve for your oration; and let him deliver the pigeons to the emperor from you.

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

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

Tit. Sirrah, come hither: make no more ado, But give your pigeons to the emperor ; By me thou shalt have justice at his hands. Hold, hold;-mean while, here's money for thy charges.

Give me a pen and ink. —
Sirrah, can you with a grace deliver a supplication?
Clo. Ay, sir.

Tit. Then here is a supplication for you. And when you come to him, at the first approach, you must kneel; then kiss his foot; then deliver up your pigeons; and then look for your reward. I'i be at hand, sir; see you do it bravely.

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

Tit. Sirrah, hast thou a knife? Come, let me see it.

Here, Marcus, fold it in the oration;

For thou hast made it like an humble suppliant ;-
And when thou hast given it to the emperor,
Knock at my door, and tell me what he says.
Clo. God be with you, sir; I will.
Tit. Come, Marcus, let's go :

Publius, follow [Exeunt.

Before the Palace. Enter SATURNINUS, TAMORA, CHIRON, DEMETRIUS, Lords, and others: SATURNINUS, with the arrows in his hand that TITUS shot.

Sat. Why, lords, what wrongs are these? Was

ever seen

An emperor of Rome thus overborne,
Troubled, confronted thus; and, for the extent
Of egal justice, us'd in such contempt?
My lords, you know, as do the mightful gods,
However these disturbers of our peace
Buz in the people's ears, there nought hath pass'd,
But even with law, against the wilful sons
Of old Andronicus. And what an if
His sorrows have so overwhelm'd his wits,
Shall we be thus afflicted in his wreaks,
His fits, his frenzy, and his bitterness?
And now he writes to heaven for his redress:
See, here's to Jove, and this to Mercury;
This to Apollo; this to the god of war :
Sweet scrolls to fly about the streets of Rome!
What's this, but libelling against the senate,
And blazoning our injustice every where?
A goodly humour, is it not, my lords?
As who would say, in Rome no justice were.
But, if I live, his feigned ecstacies
Shall be no shelter to these outrages:
But he and his shall know, that justice lives
In Saturninus' health; whom, if she sleep,
He'll so awake, as she in fury shall
Cut off the proud'st conspirator that lives.

Tam. My gracious lord, my lovely Saturnine,
Lord of my life, commander of my thoughts,
Calm thee, and bear the faults of Titus' age,
The effects of sorrow for his valiant sons,
Whose loss hath pierc'd him deep, and scarr'd his
heart;

Clo. How much money must I have? Tam. Come, sirrah, you must be hang'd. Clo. Hang'd! By'r lady, then I have brought up a neck to a fair end. [Erit, guarded. Sat. Despiteful and intolerable wrongs! Shall I endure this monstrous villainy?

I know from whence this same device proceeds;
May this be borne?—as if his traitorous sons,
That died by law for murder of our brother,
Have by my means been butcher'd wrongfully.-
Go, drag the villain hither by the hair ;
Nor age, nor honour, shall shape privilege:-
For this proud mock, I'll be thy slaughter-man ;
Sly frantick wretch, that holp'st to make me great,
In hope thyself should govern Rome and ine.
Enter EMILIUS.

What news with thee, Æmilius?

Emil. Arm, arm, my lords; Rome never

more cause!

The Goths haye gather'd head; and with a power

Of high-resolved men bent to the spoil,
They hither march amain, under conduct
Of Lucius, son to old Andronicus;
Who threats, in course of this revenge, to do
As much as ever Coriolanus did.

Sat. Is warlike Lucius general of the Goths?
These tidings nip me; and I hang the head
As flowers with frost, or grass beat down with

storms.

Ay, now begin our sorrows to approach:
'Tis he, the common people love so much;
Myself hath often over-heard them say,
(When I have walked like a private man,)
That Lucius' banishment was wrongfully,

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

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

Sat. Ay, but the citizens favour Lucius ; And will revolt from me, to succour him. Tam. King, be thy thoughts imperious, like thy

Then cheer thy spirit: for know, thou emperor, I will enchant the old Andronicus,

With words more sweet, and yet more dangerous,
Than baits to fish, or honey-stalks to sheep;
When as the one is wounded with the bait,
The other rotted with delicious feed.

Sat. But he will not entreat his son for us.
Tam. If Tamora entreat him, then he will:
For I can smooth, and fill his aged ear
With golden promises: that were his heart
Almost impregnable, his old ears deaf,
Yet should both ear and heart obey my tongue.
Go thou before, be our embassador: [To EMILIUS.
Say, that the emperor requests a parley
Of warlike Lucius, and appoint the meeting,
Even at his father's house, the old Andronicus.
Sat. Æmilius, do this message honourably :
And if he stand on hostage for his safety,
Bid him demand what pledge will please him best.
Emil. Your bidding shall I do effectually.
[Exit EMILIUS.
Tam. Now will I to that old Andronicus;
And temper him, with all the art I have,
To pluck proud Lucius from the warlike Goths.
And now, sweet emperor, be blithe again,
And bury all thy fear in my devices.

Sat. Then go successfully, and plead to him. [Exeunt.

SCENE I.- Plains near Rome.

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

1 Goth. Brave slip, sprung from the great Andronicus,

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

Goths. And, as he saith, so say we all with him. Luc. I humbly thank him, and I thank you all. But who comes here, led by a lusty Goth?

Enter a Goth, leading AARON, with his child in

his arms.

2 Goth. Renowned Lucius, from our troops I stray'd,

To gaze upon a ruinous monastery;
And as I earnestly did fix mine eye
Upon the wasted building, suddenly

I heard a child cry underneath a wall:

I made unto the noise; when soon I heard
The crying babe controll'd with this discourse:
Peace, tawny slave; half me, and half thy dam!
Did not thy hue bewray whose brat thou art,

Had nature lent thee but thy mother's look,
Villain, thou might'st have been an emperor :
But where the bull and cow are both milk-white,
They never do beget a coal-black calf.

Peace, villain, peace!—even thus he rates the babe,---
For I must bear thee to a trusty Goth;

Who, when he knows thou art the empress' babe,
Will hold thee dearly for thy mother's sake.
With this, my weapon drawn, I rush'd upon him,
Surpriz'd him suddenly; and brought him hither,
To use as you think needful of the man.

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

Aar. Touch not the boy, he is of royal blood.
Luc. Too like the sire for ever being good.
First, hang the child, that he may see it sprawl;
A sight to vex the father's soul withal.
Get me a ladder.

Aar. An if it please thee? why, assure thee,
Lucius,

'Twill vex thy soul to hear what I shall speak;
For I must talk of murders, rapes, and massacres,
Acts of black night, abominable deeds,
Complots of mischief, treason; villainies
Ruthful to hear, yet piteously perform'd:
And this shall all be buried by my death,
Unless thou swear to me, my child shall live.
Lyc. Tell on thy mind; I say, thy child shall
live.

Adr. Swear, that he shall, and then I will begin. Luc. Who should I swear by? thou believ'st no god;

That granted, how canst thou believe an oath?

Aar. What if I do not? as, indeed, I do not: Yet, for I know thou art religious, And hast a thing within thee, called conscience; And twenty popish tricks and ceremonies, Which I have seen thee careful to observe,Therefore I urge thy oath ;- For that, I know, An idiot holds his bauble for a god,

And keeps the oath, which by that god he swears;
To that I'll urge him: - Therefore, thou shalt vow
By that'same god, what god soe'er it be,
That thou ador'st and hast in reverence,
To save my boy, to nourish, and bring him up;
Or else I will discover nought to thee.

Luc. Even by my god, I swear to thee I will. Aar. First, know thou, I begot him on the empress.

Luc. O most insatiate, luxurious woman! .. Aar. Tut, Lucius! this was but a deed of charity, To that which thou shalt hear of me anon. 'Twas her two sons, that murder'd Bassianus: They cut thy sister's tongue, and ravish'd her, And cut her hands; and trimm'd her as thou saw'st. Luc. O, détestable villain! call'st thou that trimming?

Aar. Why, she was wash'd, and cut, and trimm'd; and t'was

Trim sport for them that had the doing of it.

Luc. O, barbarous, beastly villains, like thyself!
Aar. Indeed, I was their tutor to instruct them;
That codding spirit had they from their mother,
As sure à card as ever won the set;
That bloody mind, I think, they learn'd of me,
As true a dog as ever fought at head.
Well, let my deeds be witness of my worth.
I train'd thy brethren to that guileful hole,
Where the dead corpse of Bassianus lay:
I wrote the letter that thy father found,
And hid the gold within the letter mention'd,
Confederate with the queen, and her two sons;
And what not done, that thou hast cause to rue,
Wherein I had no stroke of mischief in it?
I play'd the cheater for thy father's hand;
And, when I had it, drew myself apart,
And almost broke my heart with extreme laughter.
I pry'd me through the crevice of a wall,
When, for his hand, he had his two sons' heads;
Beheld his tears, and laugh'd só heartily,
That both mine eyes were rainy like to his ;
And when I told the empress of this sport,
She sounded almost at my pleasing tale,
And, for my tidings, gave me twenty kisses.
Goth. What! canst thou say all this, and never
blush?

Aar. Ay, like a black dog, as the saying is.
Luc. Art thou not sorry for these heinous deeds?

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

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

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

SCENE II. Rome. Before Titus's House
Enter TAMORA, CHIRON, and DEMETRIUS, disguised.
Tam. Thus, in this strange and sad habiliment,
I will encounter with Andronicus;
And say, I am Revenge, sent from below,
To join with him, and right his heinous wrongs
Knock at his study, where, they say, he keeps,
To ruminate strange plots of dire revenge;
Tell him, Revenge is come to join with him,
And work confusion on his enemies. [They knock.
Enter TITUS, above.

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

Tam. Titus, I am come to talk with then.'