The Same. Court of Titus' House. A banquet set out. |
| |
Enter LUCIUS, MARCUS and Goths, with AARON prisoner. |
| Luc. Uncle Marcus, since it is my father's mind |
| That I repair to Rome, I am content. |
| First Goth. And ours with thine, befall what fortune will. |
| Luc. Good uncle, take you in this barbarous Moor, |
| This ravenous tiger, this accursed devil; |
| Let him receive no sustenance, fetter him, |
| Till he be brought unto the empress' face, |
| For testimony of her foul proceedings: |
| And see the ambush of our friends be strong; |
| I fear the emperor means no good to us. |
| Aar. Some devil whisper curses in mine ear, |
| And prompt me, that my tongue may utter forth |
| The venomous malice of my swelling heart! |
| Luc. Away, inhuman dog! unhallow'd slave! |
| Sirs, help our uncle to convey him in. [Exeunt Goths, with AARON. Trumpets sound. |
| The trumpets show the emperor is at hand. |
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Enter SATURNINUS and TAMORA, with ĈMILIUS, Senators, Tribunes, and Others. |
| Sat. What! hath the firmament more suns than one? |
| Luc. What boots it thee, to call thyself a sun? |
| Mar. Rome's emperor, and nephew, break the parle; |
| These quarrels must be quietly debated. |
| The feast is ready which the careful Titus |
| Hath ordain'd to an honourable end, |
| For peace, for love, for league, and good to Rome: |
| Please you, therefore, draw nigh, and take your places. |
| Sat. Marcus, we will. [Hautboys sound. |
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Enter TITUS, dressed like a cook, LAVINIA, veiled, young LUCIUS, and Others. TITUS places the dishes on the table. |
| Tit. Welcome, my gracious lord; welcome, dread queen; |
| Welcome, ye war-like Goths; welcome, Lucius; |
| And welcome, all. Although the cheer be poor, |
| 'Twill fill your stomachs; please you eat of it. |
| Sat. Why art thou thus attir'd, Andronicus? |
| Tit. Because I would be sure to have all well |
| To entertain your highness, and your empress. |
| Tam. We are beholding to you, good Andronicus. |
| Tit. An if your highness knew my heart, you were. |
| My lord the emperor, resolve me this: |
| Was it well done of rash Virginius |
| To slay his daughter with his own right hand, |
| Because she was enforced, stain'd, and deflower'd? |
| Sat. It was, Andronicus. |
| Tit. Your reason, mighty lord? |
| Sat. Because the girl should not survive her shame, |
| And by her presence still renew his sorrows. |
| Tit. A reason mighty, strong, and effectual; |
| A pattern, precedent, and lively warrant, |
| For me most wretched, to perform the like. |
| Die, die, Lavinia, and thy shame with thee; |
| And with thy shame thy father's sorrow die! [Kills LAVINIA. |
| Sat. What hast thou done, unnatural and unkind? |
| Tit. Kill'd her, for whom my tears have made me blind. |
| I am as woeful as Virginius was, |
| And have a thousand times more cause than he |
| To do this outrage: and it is now done. |
| Sat. What! was she ravish'd? tell who did the deed. |
| Tit. Will't please you eat? will't please your highness feed? |
| Tam. Why hast thou slain thine only daughter thus? |
| Tit. Not I; 'twas Chiron and Demetrius: |
| They ravish'd her, and cut away her tongue: |
| And they, 'twas they, that did her all this wrong. |
| Sat. Go fetch them hither to us presently. |
| Tit. Why, there they are both, baked in that pie; |
| Whereof their mother daintily hath fed, |
| Eating the flesh that she herself hath bred. |
| 'Tis true, 'tis true; witness my knife's sharp point. [Kills TAMORA. |
| Sat. Die, frantic wretch, for this accursed deed! [Kills TITUS. |
| Luc. Can the son's eye behold his father bleed? |
| There's meed for meed, death for a deadly deed! [Kills SATURNINUS. A great tumult. The people in confusion disperse. MARCUS, LUCIUS, and their partisans, go up into the balcony. |
| Mar. You sad-fac'd men, people and sons of Rome, |
| By uproar sever'd, like a flight of fowl |
| Scatter'd by winds and high tempestuous gusts, |
| O! let me teach you how to knit again |
| This scatter'd corn into one mutual sheaf, |
| These broken limbs again into one body; |
| Lest Rome herself be bane unto herself, |
| And she whom mighty kingdoms curtsy to, |
| Like a forlorn and desperate castaway, |
| Do shameful execution on herself. |
| But if my frosty signs and chaps of age, |
| Grave witnesses of true experience, |
| Cannot induce you to attend my words, |
| [To LUCIUS.] Speak, Rome's dear friend, as erst our ancestor, |
| When with his solemn tongue he did discourse |
| To love-sick Dido's sad attending ear |
| The story of that baleful burning night |
| When subtle Greeks surpris'd King Priam's Troy; |
| Tell us what Sinon hath bewitch'd our ears, |
| Or who hath brought the fatal engine in |
| That gives our Troy, our Rome, the civil wound. |
| My heart is not compact of flint nor steel, |
| Nor can I utter all our bitter grief, |
| But floods of tears will drown my oratory, |
| And break my very utterance, even in the time |
| When it should move you to attend me most, |
| Lending your kind commiseration. |
| Here is a captain, let him tell the tale; |
| Your hearts will throb and weep to hear him speak. |
| Luc. Then, noble auditory, be it known to you, |
| That cursed Chiron and Demetrius |
| Were they that murdered our emperor's brother; |
| And they it was that ravished our sister. |
| For their fell faults our brothers were beheaded, |
| Our father's tears despis'd, and basely cozen'd |
| Of that true hand that fought Rome's quarrel out, |
| And sent her enemies unto the grave: |
| Lastly, myself unkindly banished, |
| The gates shut on me, and turn'd weeping out, |
| To beg relief among Rome's enemies; |
| Who drown'd their enmity in my true tears, |
| And op'd their arms to embrace me as a friend: |
| And I am the turn'd forth, be it known to you, |
| That have preserv'd her welfare in my blood, |
| And from her bosom took the enemy's point, |
| Sheathing the steel in my adventurous body. |
| Alas! you know I am no vaunter, I; |
| My scars can witness, dumb although they are, |
| That my report is just and full of truth. |
| But, soft! methinks I do digress too much, |
| Citing my worthless praise: O! pardon me; |
| For when no friends are by, men praise themselves. |
| Mar. Now is my turn to speak. Behold this child; |
| Of this was Tamora delivered, |
| The issue of an irreligious Moor, |
| Chief architect and plotter of these woes. |
| The villain is alive in Titus' house, |
| Damn'd as he is, to witness this is true. |
| Now judge what cause had Titus to revenge |
| These wrongs, unspeakable, past patience, |
| Or more than any living man could bear. |
| Now you have heard the truth, what say you Romans? |
| Have we done aught amiss, show us wherein, |
| And, from the place where you behold us now, |
| The poor remainder of Andronici |
| Will, hand in hand, all headlong cast us down, |
| And on the ragged stones beat forth our brains, |
| And make a mutual closure of our house. |
| Speak, Romans, speak! and if you say we shall, |
| Lo! hand in hand, Lucius and I will fall. |
| Ĉmil. Come, come, thou reverend man of Rome, |
| And bring our emperor gently in thy hand, |
| Lucius, our emperor; for well I know |
| The common voice do cry it shall be so. |
| Romans. Lucius, all hail! Rome's royal emperor! |
| Mar. [To Attendants.] Go, go into old Titus' sorrowful house, |
| And hither hale that misbelieving Moor, |
| To be adjudg'd some direful slaughtering death, |
| As punishment for his most wicked life. [Exeunt Attendants. |
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LUCIUS, MARCUS, and the Others descend. |
| Romans. Lucius, all hail! Rome's gracious governor! |
| Luc. Thanks, gentle Romans: may I govern so, |
| To heal Rome's harms, and wipe away her woe! |
| But, gentle people, give me aim awhile, |
| For nature puts me to a heavy task. |
| Stand all aloof; but, uncle, draw you near, |
| To shed obsequious tears upon this trunk. |
| O! take this warm kiss on thy pale cold lips, [Kisses TITUS. |
| These sorrowful drops upon thy blood-stain'd face, |
| The last true duties of thy noble son! |
| Mar. Tear for tear, and loving kiss for kiss, |
| Thy brother Marcus tenders on thy lips: |
| O! were the sum of these that I should pay |
| Countless and infinite, yet would I pay them. |
| Luc. Come hither, boy; come, come, and learn of us |
| To melt in showers: thy grandsire lov'd thee well: |
| Many a time he danc'd thee on his knee, |
| Sung thee asleep, his loving breast thy pillow; |
| Many a matter hath he told to thee, |
| Meet and agreeing with thine infancy; |
| In that respect, then, like a loving child, |
| Shed yet some small drops from thy tender spring, |
| Because kind nature doth require it so: |
| Friends should associate friends in grief and woe. |
| Bid him farewell; commit him to the grave; |
| Do him that kindness, and take leave of him. |
| Boy. O grandsire, grandsire! even with all my heart |
| Would I were dead, so you did live again. |
| O Lord! I cannot speak to him for weeping; |
| My tears will choke me if I ope my mouth. |
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Re-enter Attendants, with AARON. |
| First Rom. You sad Andronici, have done with woes: |
| Give sentence on this execrable wretch, |
| That hath been breeder of these dire events. |
| Luc. Set him breast-deep in earth, and famish him; |
| There let him stand, and rave, and cry for food: |
| If any one relieves or pities him, |
| For the offence he dies. This is our doom: |
| Some stay to see him fasten'd in the earth. |
| Aar. O! why should wrath be mute, and fury dumb? |
| I am no baby, I, that with base prayers |
| I should repent the evils I have done. |
| Ten thousand worse than ever yet I did |
| Would I perform, if I might have my will: |
| If one good deed in all my life I did, |
| I do repent it from my very soul. |
| Luc. Some loving friends convey the emperor hence, |
| And give him burial in his father's grave. |
| My father and Lavinia shall forthwith |
| Be closed in our household's monument. |
| As for that heinous tiger, Tamora, |
| No funeral rite, nor man in mournful weeds, |
| No mournful bell shall ring her burial; |
| But throw her forth to beasts and birds of prey. |
| Her life was beast-like, and devoid of pity; |
| And, being so, shall have like want of pity. |
| See justice done on Aaron, that damn'd Moor, |
| By whom our heavy haps had their beginning: |
| Then, afterwards, to order well the state, |
| That like events may ne'er it ruinate. [Exeunt. |
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