The Same. Before the Palace. |
| |
Enter SATURNINUS, TAMORA, DEMETRIUS, CHIRON, 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 |
| 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 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 ecstasies |
| 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; |
| And rather comfort his distressed plight |
| Than prosecute the meanest or the best |
| For these contempts.[Aside.] Why, thus it shall become |
| High-witted Tamora to gloze 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. |
| |
Enter Clown. |
| How now, good fellow! wouldst thou speak with us? |
| Clo. Yea, forsooth, an your mistership be emperial. |
| Tam. Empress I am, but yonder sits the emperor. |
| Clo. 'Tis he. God and Saint Stephen give you good den. |
| I have brought you a letter and a couple of pigeons here. [SATURNINUS reads the letter. |
| Sat. Go, take him away, and hang him presently. |
| Clo. How much money must I have? |
| Tam. Come, sirrah, you must be hanged. |
| Clo. Hanged! By 'r lady, then I have brought up a neck to a fair end. [Exit, guarded. |
| Sat. Despiteful and intolerable wrongs! |
| Shall I endure this monstrous villany? |
| 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 slaughterman; |
| Sly frantic wretch, that holp'st to make me great, |
| In hope thyself should govern Rome and me. |
| |
Enter ĈMILIUS. |
| What news with thee, Ĉmilius? |
| Ĉmil. Arm, arm, my lord! Rome never had more cause. |
| The Goths have gather'd head, and with a power |
| Of high-resolved men, bent to the spoil, |
| They hither march amain, under conduct |
| Of Lucius, son to old Andronicus; |
| Who threats, in course of this revenge, to do |
| As much as ever Coriolanus did. |
| Sat. Is war-like 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 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 name. |
| Is the sun dimm'd, that gnats do fly in it? |
| The eagle suffers little birds to sing, |
| And is not careful what they mean thereby, |
| Knowing that with the shadow of his wings |
| He can at pleasure stint their melody; |
| Even so mayst thou the giddy men of Rome. |
| 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, |
| Whenas 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. |
| [To ĈMILIUS.] Go thou before, be our ambassador: |
| Say that the emperor requests a parley |
| Of war-like Lucius, and appoint the meeting, |
| Even at his father's house, the old Andronicus. |
| Sat. Ĉmilius, do this message honourably: |
| And if he stand on hostage for his safety, |
| Bid him demand what pledge will please him best. |
| Ĉmil. Your bidding shall I do effectually. [Exit. |
| Tam. Now will I to that old Andronicus, |
| And temper him with all the art I have, |
| To pluck proud Lucius from the war-like Goths. |
| And now, sweet emperor, be blithe again, |
| And bury all thy fear in my devices. |
| Sat. Then go successantly, and plead to him. [Exeunt. |
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