Plot some device of further misery
Do, then, dear heart, for heaven shall hear our prayers,
To make us wonder'd at in time to come. [grief
Luc. Sweet father, cease your tears; for at your Or with our sighs we 'll breathe the welkin dim,
See how my wretched sister sobs and weeps. [eyes. And stain the sun with fog, as sometime clouds,
Marc. Patience, dear niece; good Titus, dry thine When they do hug him in their melting bosoms.
Tit. Ah, Marcus, Marcus! brother, well I wote Marc. Oh, brother, speak with possibilities,
Thy napkin cannot drink a tear of mine,
And do not break into these deep extremes.
For thou, poor man, hast drown'd it with thine own. Tit. Is not my sorrow deep, having no bottom?
Luc. Ah, my Lavinia, I will wipe thy cheeks. Then be my passions bottomless with them.
Tit. Mark, Marcus, mark! I understand her signs: Marc. But yet let reason govern thy lament.
Had she a tongue to speak, now would she say Tit. If there were reason for these miseries,
That to her brother which I said to thee.
Then into limits could I bind my woes:
His napkin, with his true tears all bewet,
When heaven doth weep, doth not the earth o'erflow?
Can do no service on her sorrowful cheeks.
If the winds rage, doth not the sea wax mad,
Oh, what a sympathy of woe is this;
Threat'ning the welkin with his big-swoll'n face?
As far from help as limbo is from bliss!
And wilt thou have a reason for this coil?
I am the sea. Hark how her sighs do blow:
She is the weeping welkin, I the earth:
Then must my sea be moved with her sighs;
Then must my earth with her continual tears
Become a deluge, overflow'd and drown'd:
For why, my bowels cannot hide her woes,
But like a drunkard must I vomit them.
Then give me leave, for losers will have leave
To ease their stomachs with their bitter tongues.
Enter a Messenger with two heads and a hand.
Messen. Worthy Andronicus, ill art thou repaid
For that good hand thou sent'st the emperor:
Here are the heads of thy two noble sons,
And here's thy hand in scorn to thee sent back:
Thy griefs their sports: thy resolution mock'd:
That woe is me to think upon thy woes,
More than remembrance of my father's death. [Ex.
Marc. Now let hot Ætna cool in Sicily,
And be my heart an ever-burning hell:
These miseries are more than may be borne.
To weep with them that weep doth ease some deal;
But sorrow flouted at is double death.
Aaron. Titus Andronicus, my lord the emperor
Sends thee this word, that if thou love thy sons,
Let Marcus, Lucius, or thyself, old Titus,
Or any one of you, chop off your hand,
And send it to the king: he, for the same,
Will send thee hither both thy sons alive,
And that shall be the ransom for their fault.
Tit. Oh, gracious emperor! oh, gentle Aaron !
Did ever raven sing so like a lark,
That gives sweet tidings of the sun's uprise?
With all my heart, I'll send the emperor my hand:
Good Aaron, wilt thou help to chop it off?
Luc. Stay, father; for that noble hand of thine,
That hath thrown down so many enemies,
Shall not be sent: my hand will serve the turn:
My youth can better spare my blood than you,
And therefore mine shall save my brothers' lives.
Marc. Which of your hands hath not defended
And rear'd aloft the bloody battle-axe, [Rome,
Writing destruction on the enemy's castle?
Oh, none of both but are of high desert:
My hand hath been but idle: let it serve
To ransom my two nephews from their death,
Then have I kept it to a worthy end.
Aaron. Nay, come, agree whose hand shall go
For fear they die before their pardon come. [along,
Marc. My hand shall go.
Luc.
By heaven, it shall not go!
Tit. Sirs, strive no more; such wither'd herbs as
these
Are meet for plucking up, and therefore mine.
Luc. Sweet father, if I shall be thought thy son,
Let me redeem my brothers both from death.
Marc. And for our father's sake, and mother's care,
Now let me show a brother's love to thee.
Tit. Agree between you; I will spare my hand.
Luc. Then I'll go fetch an axe.
Marc.
But I will use the axe.
[Exeunt Lucius and Marcus.
Tit. Come hither, Aaron; I'll deceive them both:
Lend me thy hand, and I will give thee mine.
Aaron. If that be called deceit, I will be honest,
And never, whilst I live, deceive men so:
But I'll deceive you in another sort,
And that you'll say, ere half an hour pass. [Aside.
[He cuts off Titus's hand.
Enter Lucius and Marcus.
Luc. Ah, that this sight should make so deep a
And yet detested life not shrink thereat! [wound,
Where life hath no more interest but to breathe!
That ever death should let life bear his name,
[Lavinia kisses Titus.
As frozen water to a starved snake.
Marc. Alas, poor heart, that kiss is comfortless,
Tit. When will this fearful slumber have an end?
Marc. Now farewell flattery: Die, Andronicus;
Thou dost not slumber: see thy two sons' heads,
Thy warlike hand; thy mangled daughter here;
Struck pale and bloodless; and thy brother, I,
Thy other banish'd son with this dear sight
Even like a stony image, cold and numb.
Ah, now no more will I control my griefs:
Rend off thy silver hair, thy other hand
Gnawing with thy teeth; and be this dismal sight
The closing up of our most wretched eyes:
Now is a time to storm; why art thou still?
Tit. Ha, ha, ha!
[hour. Marc. Why dost thou laugh? it fits not with this Tit. Why, I have not another tear to shed: Besides, this sorrow is an enemy, And would usurp upon my watery eyes, And make them blind with tributary tears. Then, which way shall I find revenge's cave? Tit. Now, stay your strife; what shall be is For these two heads do seem to speak to me,
Good Aaron, give his majesty my hand;
Tell him, it was a hand that warded him
From thousand dangers: bid him bury it:
More hath it merited, that let it have.
As for my sons, say I account of them
As jewels purchas'd at an easy price;
And yet dear too, because I bought mine own.
Aaron. I go, Andronicus; and, for thy hand,
Look by-and-by to have thy sons with thee.
Their heads I mean: oh, how this villainy [Aside.
Doth fat me with the very thoughts of it!
Let fools do good, and fair men call for grace,
Aaron will have his soul black like his face. [Exit.
Tit. Oh, here I lift this one hand up to heaven,
And bow this feeble ruin to the earth:
If any power pities wretched tears,
To that I call: What, wilt thou kneel with me?
And threat me, I shall never come to bliss,
Till all these mischiefs be return'd again,
Even in their throats that have committed them.
Come, let me see what task I have to do.
You heavy people, circle me about,
That I may turn me to each one of you,
And swear unto my soul to right your wrongs.
The vow is made. Come, brother, take a head,
And in this hand the other will I bear.
And, Lavinia, thou shalt be employ'd in these things.
Bear thou my hand, sweet wench, between thy teeth:
As for thee, boy, go get thee from my sight;
Thou art an exile, and thou must not stay:
Hie to the Goths, and raise an army there;
And if you love me, as I think you do,
Let's kiss and part, for we have much to do.
[Exeunt Titus, Marcus, and Lavinia.
Luc. Farewell, Andronicus, my noble father;
The wofull'st man that ever liv'd in Rome:
Farewell, proud Rome, till Lucius come again:
He leaves his pledges, dearer than his life.
Farewell, Lavinia, my noble sister;
O, would thou wert as thou tofore hast been!
But now, nor Lucius, nor Lavinia, lives
But in oblivion and hateful griefs:
If Lucius live, he will requite your wrongs,
And make proud Saturnine and his empress
Beg at the gates like Tarquin and his queen.
Now will I to the Goths, and raise a power,
To be reveng'd on Rome and Saturnine. [Exit Luc.
SCENE II.-A Room in Titus's House. A Ban-
quet set out.
Marc. Pardon me, sir; 't was a black, ill-favour'd fly,
Like to the empress' Moor; therefore I kill'd hini.
Tit. 0, 0, 0,
Then pardon me for reprehending thee,
For thou hast done a charitable deed.
Give me thy knife, I will insult on him;
Flattering myself, as if it were the Moor,
Come hither purposely to poison me.-
There 's for thyself, and that 's for Tamora.-
Ah, sirrah!
Yet, I think we are not brought so low,
But that, between us, we can kill a fly,
That comes in likeness of a coal-black Moor.
Marc. Alas, poor man! grief has so wrought on
[him,
Enter Titus, Marcus, Lavinia, and Young Lucius, He takes false shadows for true substances.
Tit. So, so; now sit and look you eat no more
Than will preserve just so much strength in us
As will revenge these bitter woes of ours.
Marcus, unknit that sorrow-wreathen knot;
Thy niece and I, poor creatures, want our hands,
And cannot passionate our ten-fold grief
With folded arms. This poor right hand of mine
Is left to tyrannize upon iny breast;
And when my heart, all mad with misery,
Beats in this hollow prison of my flesh,
Then thus I thump it down.-
Thou map of woe, that thus dost talk in signs!
[To Lavinia.
When thy poor heart beats with outrageous beating,
Thou canst not strike it thus to make it still.
Wound it with sighing, girl, kill it with groans;
Or get some little knife between thy teeth,
And just against thy heart make thou a hole;
That all the tears that thy poor eyes let fall
May run into that sink, and, soaking in,
Drown the lamenting fool in sea-salt tears.
Marc. Fie, brother, fie! teach her not thus to lay
Such violent hands upon her tender life.
Tit. How now! has sorrow made thee dote already?
Why, Marcus, no man should be mad but I.
What violent hands can she lay on her life?
Ah, wherefore dost thou urge the name of hands;-
To bid Aneas tell the tale twice o'er,
How Troy was burnt, and he made miserable?
O, handle not the theme, to talk of hands;
Lest we remember still that we have none.-
Fie, fie, how franticly I square my talk!
As if we should forget we had no hands,
If Marcus did not name the word of hands!-
Come, let's fall to: and, gentle girl, eat this :-
Here is no drink! Hark, Marcus, what she says;
I can interpret all her martyr'd signs;-
She says, she drinks no other drink but tears,
Brew'd with her sorrows, mesh'd upon her cheeks:-
Speechless complainer, I will learn thy thought;
In thy dumb action will I be as perfect
As begging hermits in their holy prayers:
Thou shalt not sigh, nor hold thy stumps to heaven,
Nor wink, nor nod, nor kneel, nor make a sign,
But I, of these, will wrest an alphabet,
And, by still practice, learn to know thy meaning.
Boy. Good grandsire, leave these bitter deep la-
Make my aunt merry with some pleasing tale.
Marc. Alas, the tender boy, in passion mov'd,
Doth weep to see his grandsire's heaviness.
Tit. Peace, tender sapling; thou art made of tears,
And tears will quickly melt thy life away.-
[Marcus strikes the dish with a knife.
What dost thou strike at, Marcus, with thy knife?
Marc. At that that I have kill'd, my lord; a fly.
Tit. Out on thee, murtherer! thou kill'st my heart;
Mine eyes are cloy'd with view of tyranny:
A deed of death, done on the innocent,
Becomes not Titus' brother: Get thee gone;
I see thou art not for my company.
Marc. Alas, my lord, I have but kill'd a fly.
Tit. But how, if that fly had a father and inother?
How would he hang his slender gilded wings,
And buzz lamenting doings in the air!
Poor harmless fly!
That, with his pretty buzzing melody,
Tit. Come, take away.-Lavinia, go with me:
I'll to thy closet; and go read with thee
Sad stories, chanced in the times of old.-
Come, boy, and go with me; thy sight is young,
And thou shalt read, when mine begins to dazzle.
[Exeunt.
SCENE I.-Before Titus's House.
Enter Titus and Marcus; then Young Lucius, and
Lavinia running after him, the boy flying from
her with his books under his arm.
Boy. Help, grandsire, help! my aunt Lavinia
Follows me everywhere, I know not why.
Good uncle Marcus, see how swift she comes!
Alas, sweet aunt, I know not what you mean.
Marc. Stand by me, Lucius; do not fear thy aunt.
Tit. She loves thee, boy, too well to do thee harm.
Boy. Ay, when my father was in Rome she did.
Marc. What means my niece Lavinia by these
signs?
[mean.
Tit. Fear her not, Lucius: somewhat doth she
See, Lucius, see, how much she makes of thee;
Somewhither would she have thee go with her.
Ay, boy, Cornelia never with more care
Read to her son than she hath read to thee,
Sweet poetry, and Tully's Orator:
Canst thou not guess wherefore she plies thee thus!
Boy. My lord, I know not, I, nor can I guess,
Unless some fit or frenzy do possess her:
For I have heard my grandsire say full oft,
Extremity of griefs would make men mad;
And I have read that Hecuba of Troy
Ran mad through sorrow: That made me to fear;
Although, my lord, I know my noble aunt
Loves me as dear as e'er my mother did,
And would not, but in fury, fright my youth:
Which made me down to throw my books, and fly,
Causeless, perhaps: but pardon me, sweet aunt:
And, madam, if my uncle Marcus go,
I will most willingly attend your ladyship.
Marc. Lucius, I will.
Lavinia turns over the
books which Lucius has let fall
Tit. How now, Lavinia? Marcus, what means this?
Some book there is that she desires to see:
Which is it, girl, of these? open them, boy.
But thou art deeper read, and better skill'd:
Come, and take choice of all my library;
And so beguile thy sorrow, till the heavens
Reveal the damn'd contriver of this deed.
What book?
Why lifts she up her arms in sequence thus? [one
Marc. I think she means that there was more than
Confederate in the fact ;-ay, more there was:
Or else to heaven she heaves them for revenge.
Tit. Lucius, what book is that she tosseth so!
Boy. Grandsire, 't is Ovid's Metamorphoses;
My mother gave it me.
Marc. For love of her that 's gone,
Perhaps, she cull'd it from among the rest.
Tit. Soft! How busily she turns the leaves!
Help her what would she find? Lavinia, shall I
This is the tragic tale of Philomel,
And treats of Tercus' treason and his rape;
And rape, I fear, was root of thine annoy.
Marc. See, brother, see; note how she quotes the
Tit. Lavinia, wert thou thus surpris'd, sweet girl,
Came here to make us merry; and thou hast kill'd Ravish'd and wrong'd as Philomela was,
Forc'd in the ruthless, vast, and gloomy woods!
See, see! Ay, such a place there is where we did
(O had we never, never hunted there!)
Pattern'd by that the poet here describes,
By nature made for murthers and for rapes.
Marc. O, why should nature build so foul a den,
Unless the gods delight in tragedies? [friends,-
Tit. Give signs, sweet girl,-for here are none but
What Roman lord it was durst do the deed?
Or slunk not Saturnine, as Tarquin erst,
That left the camp to sin in Lucrece' bed?
Marc. Sit down, sweet niece; brother, sit down
Apollo, Pallas, Jove, or Mercury,
[by me.
Inspire me that I may this treason find.
My lord, look here; look here, Lavinia.
[He writes his name with his staff, and
guides it with feet and mouth.
This sandy plot is plain; guide, if thou canst,
This, after me. I have writ my name,
Without the help of any hand at all.
Curs'd be that heart that forc'd us to this shift!
Write thou, good niece, and here display at last,
What God will have discover'd for revenge.
Heaven guide thy pen to print thy sorrows plain,
That we may know the traitors and the truth!
[She takes the staff in her mouth, and guides
it with her stumps, and writes.
Tit. Oh, do ye read, my lord, what she hath writ?
'Stuprum, Chiron, Demetrius.'
Marc. What, what! the lustful sons of Tamora, Performers of this heinous, bloody deed?
Tit. Magni Dominator poli,
Tam lentus audis scelera? tam lentus vides?
Marc. O, calm thee, gentle lord; although I know
There is enough written upon this earth
To stir a mutiny in the mildest thoughts,
And arm the niinds of infants to exclaims.
My lord, kneel down with me; Lavinia, kneel;
And kneel, sweet boy, the Roman Hector's hope;
And swear with me,-as with the woful fere,
And father of that chaste dishonour'd dame,
Lord Junius Brutus sware for Lucrece' rape,-
That we will prosecute, by good advice,
Mortal revenge upon these traitorous Goths,
And see their blood, or die with this reproach.
Tit. 'T is sure enough, an you knew how;
But if you hunt these bear-whelps, then beware:
The dam will wake, and if she wind you once,
She 's with the lion deeply still in league,
And lulls him whilst she playeth on her back,
And when he sleeps will she do what she list.
You are a young huntsman, Marcus; let it alone;
And, come, I will go get a leaf of brass,
And with a gad of steel will write these words,
And lay it by the angry northern wind
Will blow these sands like Sibyls' leaves abroad,
And where 's your lesson then? Boy, what say you?
Boy. I say, my lord, that if I were a man,
Their mother's bed-chamber should not be safe,
For these bad bondmen to the yoke of Rome.
Marc. Ay, that 's my boy; thy father hath full oft
For his ungrateful country done the like.
Boy. And, uncle, so will 1, an if I live.
Tit. Come, go with me into mine armoury;
Lucius, I'll fit thee; and withal, my boy
Shall carry from me to the empress' sons
Presents that I intend to send them both :
Come, come, thou 'it do thy message, wilt thou not?
Boy. Ay, with my dagger in their bosoms, grand-
[course.
Tit. No, boy, not so; I'll teach thee another
Lavinia, come; Marcus, look to my house;
Lucius and I'll go brave it at the court:
Ay, marry will we, sir; and we 'll be waited on.
[Exeunt Titus, Lavinia, and Boy.
Marc. O heavens! can you hear a good man
And not relent, or not compassion him?
Marcus, attend him in his extasy,
That hath more scars of sorrow in his heart,
Than foemen's marks upon his batter'd shield;
But yet so just, that he will not revenge:
Revenge, ye heavens, for old Andronicus.
SCENE II.-A Room in the Palace.
Enter Aaron, Chiron, and Demetrius at one door; at another door Young Lucius and Attendant, with
a bundle of weapons, and verses written upon
them.
Chi. Demetrius, here 's the son of Lucius ;
He hath some message to deliver us. [father.
Aaron. Ay,some mad message from his mad grand-
Boy. My lords, with all the humbleness I may,
I greet your honours from Andronicus;
And pray the Roman gods confound you both.
[Aside.
Demet. Gramercy, lovely Lucius, what 's the news?
Boy. That you are both decipher'd, that's the news,
For villains mark'd with rape [Aside]. May it please
My grandsire, well-advis'd, hath sent by me [you,
The goodliest weapons of his armoury,
To gratify your honourable youth,
The hope of Rome; for so he bad 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-
lains.
[Exeunt Boy and Attendant.
Demet. What's here? a scroll; and written round
Let's see:
[about?
Integer vitæ, scelerisque purus,
Non eget Mauri jaculis, nec arcu..
Chi. O't is a verse in Horace; I know it well: I read it in the grammar long ago.
Aaron. Ay, just a verse in Horace; right, you have
Now, what a thing it is to be an ass!
Here 's no sound jest! the old man hath found their
And sends the weapons wrapp'd about with lines,
That wound, beyond their feeling, to the quick:
But were our witty empress well a-foot,
She would applaud Andronicus' conceit.
But let her rest in her unrest awhile.
[The preceding seven lines are spoken aside.
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.
Demet. But me more good, to see so great a lord
Basely insinuate, and send us gifts.
Aaron. Had he not reason, lord Demetrius?
Did you not use his daughter very friendly?
Demet. 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.
Aaron. Here lacks but your mother for to say
Chi. And that would she for twenty thousand more.
Demet. Come, let us go, and pray to all the gods,
For our beloved mother in her pains.
Aaron. Pray to the devils; the gods have given
[Aside. Trumpets sound.
Demet. Why do the emperor's trumpets flourish
Chi. Belike, for joy the emperor hath a son.
Demet. Soft; who comes here?
Enter Nurse, with a blackamoor child.
Nurse. Good morrow, lords;
O, tell me, did you see Aaron, the Moor?
Aaron. Well, more, or less, or ne'er a whit at all,
Here Aaron is; and what with Aaron now?
Nurse. O gentle Aaron, we are all undone!
Now help, or woe betide thee evermore!
Aaron, Why, what a caterwauling dost thou keep!
What dost thou wrap and fumble in thine arms?
Nurse. 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.
Aaron. To whom?
Nurse.
I mean she is brought a-bed.
Aaron. Well, God give her good rest! What hath
Nurse. A devil.
[he sent her?
Aaron. Why, then she is the devil's dam; a joyful
Sweet blowse, you are a beauteous blossom sure.
Demet. Villain, what hast thou done?
Aaron. That which thou canst not undo.
Chi. Thou hast undone our mother.
Aaron. Villain, I have done thy mother.
Demet. 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. Aaron. It shall not die.
Nurse. Aaron, it must; the mother wills it so.
Auron. What! must it, nurse? Then let no man
Do execution on my flesh and blood.
[but I
Demet. I'll broach the tadpole on my rapier's point:
Nurse, give it me; my sword shall soon despatch it.
Aaron. Sooner this sword shall plough thy bowels
up. [Takes the Child from the Nurse.
Stay, murtherous villains, will you kill your brother?
Now, by the burning tapers of the sky,
That shone so brightly when this boy was got,
He dies upon my 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 ale-house painted signs!
Coal-black is better than another hue,
In that it scorns to bear another hue:
For all the water in the ocean
Can never turn the swan's black legs to white,
Although she lave them hourly in the flood:
Tell the empress from me, I am of age
To keep mine own, excuse it how she can.
Demet. Wilt thou betray thy noble mistress thus?
Aaron. 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.
Demet. By this our mother is for ever sham'd.
Chi. Rome will despise her for this foul escape.
Nurse. The emperor, in his rage, will doom her
Chi. I blush to think upon this ignominy. [death.
Aaron. Why, there's the privilege your beauty
Fie, 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 is your brother by the surer side,
Although my seal be stamped in his face.
Nurse. Aaron, what shall I say unto the empress?
Demet. Advise thee, Aaron, what is to be done,
And we will all subscribe to thy advice:
Save thou the child, so we may all be safe.
Aaron. Then sit we down, and let us all consult.
My son and I will have the wind of you:
Keep there; now talk at pleasure of your safety.
Demet. How many women saw this child of his ?
Aaron. Why, so brave lords: When we join in
I am a lamb; but if you brave the Moor,
The chafed boar, the mountain lioness,
The ocean swells not so as Aaron storms:
But say again, how many saw the child?
Nurse. Cornelia the midwife, and myself
And no one else but the deliver'd empress.
Aaron. The empress, the midwife, and yourself:
Two may keep counsel when the third's away:
Go to the empress, tell her this I said: [He kills her.
Weke, weke-so cries a pig prepar'd to the spit.
Demet. What mean'st thou, Aaron? wherefore
didst thou this?
Aaron. Oh, lord, sir, 't is a deed of policy;
Shall she live to betray this guilt of ours?
A long-tongued babbling gossip! No, lords, no:
And now be it known to you my full intent.
Not far, one Muliteus lives, my countryman;
His wife but yesternight was brought to bed;
His child is like to her, fair as you are:
Go pack with him, and give the mother gold,
And tell them both the circumstance of all.
And how by this their child shall be advanc'd,
And be received for the emperor's heir,
And substituted in the place of mine,
To calm this tempest whirling in the court;
And let the emperor dandle him for his own.
Hark ye, lords; ye see I have given her physic,
[Pointing to the Nurse.
And you must needs bestow her funeral;
The fields are near, and you are gallant grooms:
This done, see that you take no longer days,
But send the midwife presently to me.
The midwife and the nurse well made away,
Then let the ladies tattle what they please.
Chi. Aaron, I see thou wilt not trust the air with
Demet. For this care of Tamora,
[secrets.
Herself and hers are highly bound to thee.
[Exeunt Demetrius and Chiron, bearing
off the Nurse.
Aaron. Now to the Goths, as swift as swallow flies;
There to dispose this treasure in mine arms,
And secretly to greet the empress' friends:
Come on, you thick-lipp'd slave, I'll bear you
For it is you that puts us to our shifts: [hence;
I'll make you feed on berries, and on roots,
And feed on curds and whey, and suck the goat,
And cabin in a cave, and bring you up
To be a warrior, and command a camp.
SCENE III-A public Place in Rome.
Enter Titus, Marcus, Young Lucius, and other
Gentlemen, with bows, and Titus bears the ar-
rows with letters on them.
Tit. Come, Marcus; come, kinsmen; this is the
Sir boy, let me see your archery;
[way:
Look ye draw home enough, and 't is there straight.
Terras Astræa reliquit, be you remember'd, Mar-
She 's gone, she 's filed. Sirs, take you to your tools;
You, cousins, shall go sound the ocean,
And cast your nets. Happily, you may find her
in the sea;
Yet there 's as little justice as at land:
No; Publius and Sempronius, you must do it;
'T is you must dig with mattock and with spade,
And pierce the inmost centre of the earth;
Then, when you come to Pluto's region,
I pray you, deliver him this petition;
Tell hiin it is for justice and for aid,
And that it comes from old Andronicus,
Shaken with sorrows in ungrateful Rome.
Ah, Rome! well, well, I made thee miserable
What time I threw the people's suffrages
On him that thus doth tyrannize o'er me.
Go, get you gone, and pray be careful all,
And leave you not a man-of-war unsearch'd:
This wicked emperor may have shipp'd her hence;
And, kinsmen, then we may go pipe for justice.
Marc. O, Publius, is not this a heavy case,
To see thy noble uncle thus distract?
Pub. Therefore, my lords, it highly us concerns,
By day and night t' attend him carefully;
And feed his humour kindly as we may,
Till time beget some careful remedy.
Marc. Kinsmen, his sorrows are past remedy.
Join with the Goths, and with revengeful war
Take wreak on Rome for his ingratitude,
And vengeance on the traitor Saturnine.
Tit. Publius, how now? how now, my masters!
What, have you met with her?
Pub. No, my good lord; but Pluto sends you word,
If you will have revenge from hell you shall:
Marry, for Justice she is so employ'd,
He thinks, with Jove in heaven, or somewhere else,
So that perforce you must needs stay a time.
Tit. He doth me wrong to feed me with delays.
I'll dive into the burning lake below,
And pull her out of Acheron by the heels.
Marcus, we are but shrubs; no cedars we,
No big-bon'd men, fram'd of the Cyclops' size;
But metal, Marcus, steel to the very back,
Yet wrung with wrongs more than our backs can
And sith there is no justice in earth nor hell, [bear:
We will solicit heaven, and move the gods,
To send down justice for to wreak our wrongs.
Come to this gear; you are a good archer, Marcus.
[He gives them the arrows.
Ad Jovem, that 's for you: here, ad Apollinem:
Ad Martem, that 's for myself;
Here, boy, to Pallas; here, to Mercury:
To Saturn, Caius, not to Saturnine,
You were as good to shoot against the wind.
To it, boy: Marcus, loose when I bid;
Of my word, I have written to effect,
There's not a god left unsolicited.
Marc. Kinsmen, shoot all your shafts into the
We will afflict the emperor in his pride.. [court:
Tit. Now, masters, draw. Oh, well said, Lucius!
[They shoot.
Good boy, in Virgo's lap; give it Pallas.
Marc. My lord, I aim a mile beyond the moon;
Your letter is with Jupiter by this.
[done?
Tit. Ha, ha! Publius, Publius, what hast thou
See, see, thou hast shot off one of Taurus' horns.
Marc. This was the sport, my lord: when Publius
shot,
The Bull, being gall'd, gave Aries such a knock,
That down fell both the Ram's horns in the court,
And who should find them but the empress' villain:
She laugh'd, and told the Moor he should not choose
But give them to his master for a present. [joy.
Tit. Why, there it goes: God give your lordship
Enter Clown, with a basket, and two pigeons in it.
Tit. News, news from heaven! Marcus, the post
is come.
Sirrah, what tidings? have you any letters?
Shall I have justice? what says Jupiter?
Clown. 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?
Clown. Alas, sir, I know not Jupiter:
I never drank with him in all my life.
Tit. Why, villain, art not thou the carrier?
Clown. Ay, of my pigeons, sir; nothing else.
Tit. Why, didst thou not come from heaven?
Clown. 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 imperial's men.
Marc. Why, sir, that is as fit as can be to serve for
your oration; and let him deliver the pigeons to the
emperor from you.
Tit. Tell me, can you deliver an oration to the emperor with a grace? Clown. Nay, truly, sir; I could never say grace in
Tit. Sirrah, come hither; make no more ado,
But give your pigeons to the emperor:
By me thou shalt have justice at his hands.
Hold, hold; meanwhile here 's money for thy
Give me pen and ink.
[charges.
Sirrah, can you with a grace deliver a supplication?
Clown. Ay, sir.
Tit. Then here is a supplication for you. And when you come to him, at the first approach you must kneel; then kiss his foot: then deliver up your pigeons; and then look for your reward. I'll be at hand, sir; see you do it bravely. Clown. I warrant you, sir, let me alone.
My lords, you know, as do the mightful gods,
However these disturbers of our peace
Buzz 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 unjustice everywhere?
A goodly humour, is it not, my lords?
As who would say, in Rome no justice were:
But if I live, his feigned ecstasies
Shall be no shelter to these outrages;
But he and his shall know that Justice lives
In Saturninus' health, whom, if he sleep,
He'll so awake, as he in fury shall
Cut off the proud'st conspirator that lives.
Tam. My gracious lord, my lovely Saturnine,
Lord of my life, commander of my thoughts,
Calm thee, and bear the faults of Titus' age,
Th' effects of sorrow for his valiant sons,
Whose loss hath pierc'd him deep, and scarr'd his
And rather comfort his distressed plight, [heart;
Than prosecute the meanest or the best
For these contempts: Why, thus it shall become
High-witted Tamora to glose with all:
But, Titus, I have touch'd thee to the quick,
Thy life-blood out: if Aaron now be wise,
Then is all safe, the anchor 's in the port. [Aside.
Enter Clown.
How now, good fellow, would'st thou speak with ¿perial.
Clown. Yea, forsooth, an your mistership be imTam. Empress I am, but yonder sits the emperor. Clown. 'Tis he. God and saint Stephen give you good den; I have brought you a letter and a couple of pigeons here.
[Saturninus reads the letter.
Sat. Go, take him away, and hang him presently.
Clown. How much money must I have? Tam. Come, sirrah, you must be hang'd. Clown. Hang'd! by 'r lady, then I have brought [Exit, guarded. up a neck to a fair end. Shall I endure this monstrous villainy? Sat. Despiteful and intolerable wrong. May this be borne, as if his traitorous sons, I know from whence this same device proceeds: That died by law for murther of our brother, Have by my means been butcher'd wrongfully? Go, drag the villain hither by the hair; Nor age, nor honour, shall shape privilege: For this proud mock I'll be thy slaughter-man, In hope thyself should govern Rome and me. Sly frantic wretch, that holpst to make me great,
Sat. What news with thee, Æmilius? mil. Arm, my lord; Rome never had more The Goths have 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
Tit. Sirrah, hast thou a knife? Come, let me see
Here, Marcus, fold it in the oration,
For thou hast made it like an humble suppliant.
And when thou hast given it the emperor,
As flowers with frost, or grass beat down with storms:
Knock at my door, and tell me what he says. Ay, now begin our sorrows to approach:
Clown. God be with you, sir; I will. [Exit.'Tis he the common people love so much!
Tit. Cone, Marcus, let us go; Publius, follow ine. Myself hath often heard them say,
[Exeunt. (When I have walked like a private man,)
That Lucius' banishment was wrongfully,
And they have wish'd that Lucius were their em-
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
Is the sun dimm'd, that gnats do fly in it? [name,
The eagle suffers little birds to sing,
SCENE IV. Before the Palace. Enter Saturninus, Tamora, Chiron, Demetrius, Lords, and others. The Emperor brings the arrows in his hand that Titus shot at him. Sat. Why, lords, what wrongs are these? was ever An emperor in Rome thus overborne, [seen Troubled, confronted thus; and, for the extent Of egal justice, used in such contempt?
And is not careful what they mean thereby
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