For villains mark'd with rape. [Aside.] May it please you, My grandsire, well-advis'd, hath sent by me The hope of Rome; for so he bade me say; 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, Aar. Had he not reason, lord Demetrius? 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. Enter a Nurse, with a black-a-moor child in her arms. 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; Aar. Why, then she's the devil's dam ; a joyful issue. Nur. A joyless, dismal, black, and sorrowful issue: Sweet blowse, you are a beauteous blossom, surë. 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. Nur. Aaron, what shall I say unto the empress? | Look ye draw home enough, and 'tis there straight; Dem. Advise thee, Aaron, what is to be done, I am a lamb but if you brave the Moor, Aar. The emperess, the midwife, and yourself: : [Stabbing her. Weke, weke !-so cries a pig, prepar'd to the spit. Dem. What mean'st thou, Aaron? Wherefore didst thou this? Aar. O, lord, sir, 'tis a deed of policy: Dem. For this care of Tamora, [Exeunt DEM. and Cur. bearing off the Nurse. Terras Astræa reliquit : Be you remember'd, Marcus, she's gone, she's fled. And that it comes from old Andronicus, Shaken with sorrows in ungrateful Rome. - On him that doth tyrannize o'er me. Go, get you gone; and pray be careful all, Pub. Therefore, my lord, it highly us concerns, Mar. Kinsmen, his sorrows are past remedy. Tit. Publius, how now? how now, my masters? Have you met with her? If Pub. No, my good lord; but Pluto sends you word '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, Tit. He doth me wrong, to feed me with delays. And, sith there is no justice in earth nor hell, Come on, you thick-lipp'd slave, I'll bear you Ad Jovem, that's for you:- Here, ad Apollinem: hence; For it is you that puts us to our shifts: I'll make you feed on berries, and on roots, [Exit, SCENE III.-The same. A publick Place. Enter TITUS, bearing arrows, with letters at the ends of them; with him MARCUS, young Lucius, and other Gentlemen, with bows. Ad Martem, that's for myself: Here, boy, to Pallas: Here, to Mercury: You were as good to shoot against the wind. Mar. Kinsmen, shoot all your shafts into the We will afflict the emperor in his pride. Tit. Now, masters, draw. [They shoot.] O, well said, Lucius! Tit. Come, Marcus, come; - Kinsmen, this is Good boy, in Virgo's lap; give it Pallas. the way: Sir boy, now let me see your archery; Mar. My lord, I aim a mile beyond the moon ; Your letter is with Jupiter by this. Tit. Ha! Publius, Publius, what hast thou done! | See, see, thou hast shot off one of Taurus' horns. . Mar. This was the sport, my lord: when Publius shot, The bull being gall'd, gave Aries such a knock That down fell both the ram's horns in the court; And who should find them but the empress' villain? She laugh'd, and told the Moor, he should not choose But give them to his master for a present. Tit. Why, there it goes: God give your lordship joy. Enter 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. — 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 ;- 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, Tam. My gracious lord, my lovely Saturnine, 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; 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, Sat. Is warlike Lucius general of the Goths? storms. Ay, now begin our sorrows to approach: 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, Sat. But he will not entreat his son for us. Sat. Then go successfully, and plead to him. [Exeunt. ACT V. 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; 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; I heard a child cry underneath a wall: I made unto the noise; when soon I heard Had nature lent thee but thy mother's look, Peace, villain, peace!—even thus he rates the babe,--- Who, when he knows thou art the empress' babe, Luc. O worthy Goth! this is the incarnate devil, Aar. Touch not the boy, he is of royal blood. Aar. An if it please thee? why, assure thee, 'Twill vex thy soul to hear what I shall speak; 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; 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. Ay, like a black dog, as the saying is. 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 Tit. Who doth molest my contemplation? Tam. Titus, I am come to talk with then.' |