For that which I did then: Beaten for loyalty
Excited me to treason: Their dear loss,
The more of you 'twas felt, the more it shap'd
Unto my end of stealing them. But, gracious sir,
Here are your sons again; and I must lose
Two of the sweet'st companions in the world :-
The benediction of these covering heavens
Fall on their heads like dew! for they are worthy
To inlay heaven with stars.
Cym.
Thou weep'st, and speak'st.
The service that you three have done, is more
Unlike than this thou tell'st: I lost my children;
If these be they, I know not how to wish
A pair of worthier sons.
Bel.
Be pleas'd a while.—
This gentleman, whom I call Polydore,
Most worthy prince, as yours, is true Guiderius;
This gentleman, my Cadwal, Arvirágus,
Your younger princely son; he, sir, was lapp'd
In a most curious mantle, wrought by the hand
Of his queen mother, which, for more probation,
I can with ease produce.
Cym.
Guiderius had
Upon his neck a mole, a sanguine star;
It was a mark of wonder.
Bel.
This is he;
Who hath upon him still that natural stamp:
It was wise nature's end in the donation,
To be his evidence now.
Cym.
O, what am I
A mother to the birth of three? Ne'er mother
Rejoic'd deliverance more :-Bless'd may you be,
That, after this strange starting from your orbs,
You may reign in them now!-O Imogen,
Thou hast lost by this a kingdom.
Imo.
No, my lord;
I have got two worlds by't.-O my gentle brother,
Have we thus met? O never say hereafter,
But I am truest speaker: you call'd me brother,
When I was but your sister; I you brothers,
When you were so indeed.
Did you e'er meet?
Cym.
Arv. Ay, my good lord.
Gui.
And at first meeting lov'd;
Continued So, until we thought he died.
Cor. By the queen's dram she swallow'd.
Cym.
O rare instinct!
When shall I hear all through? This fiercel abridg-
ment
Hath to it circumstantial branches, which Distinction should be rich in.2-Where? how liv'd you?
And when came you to serve our Roman captive?
How parted with your brothers? how first met
them?
Why fled you from the court? and whither? These,
And your three motives to the battle, with
I know not how much more, should be demanded;
And all the other by-dependencies,
From chance to chance; but nor the time, nor place,
Will serve our long intergatories. See,
Posthúmus anchors upon Imogen ;
And she, like harmless lightning, throws her eye
On him, her brothers, me, her master; hitting
Each object with a joy; the counterchange
Is severally in all. Let's quit this ground,
And smoke the temple with our sacrifices.-
Thou art my brother; So we'll hold thee ever.
[To Belarius.
Imo. You are my father too; and did relieve me,
(1) Vehement, rapid.
(2) i. e. Which ought to be rendered distinct by an ample narrative.
I will yet do you service.
Luc.
Happy be you!
Cym. The forlorn soldier that so nobly fought, He would have well becom'd this place, and grac'd The thankings of a king.
Post.
I am, sir,
The soldier that did company these three
In
poor beseeming; 'twas a fitment for
The purpose I then follow'd;-That I was he,
Speak, fachimo; I had you down, and might
Have made you finish.
Iach.
I am down again:
[Kneeling.
But now my heavy conscience sinks my knee,
As then your force did. Take that life, 'beseech you,
Which I so often owe: but, your ring first;
And here the bracelet of the truest princess,
That ever swore her faith.
Post.
Kneel not to me: The power that I have on you, is to spare you; The malice towards you, to forgive you : Live, And deal with others better.
Cym.
Nobly doom'd:
We'll learn our freeness of a son-in-law;
Pardon's the word to all.
Arv.
You holp us, sir,
As you did mean indeed to be our brother:
Joy'd are we, that you are.
Post. Your servant, princes.-Good my lord of
Rome,
Call forth your soothsayer: As I slept, methought,
Great Jupiter, upon his eagle back,
Appear'd to me, with other spritely shows3
Of mine own kindred: when I wak'd, I found
This label on my bosom; whose containing
Is so from sense in hardness, that I can
Make no collection of it; let him show
His skill in the construction.
Philarmonus,
Luc.
Sooth. Here, my good lord. Luc. Read, and declare the meaning. Sooth. [Reads.] When as a lion's whelp shall, to himself unknown, without seeking, find, and be embraced by a piece of tender air: and when from a stately cedar shall be lopped branches, which, being dead many years, shall after revive, be jointed to the old stock, and freshly grow; then shall Posthumus end his miseries, Britain be fortunate, and flourish in peace and plenty. Thou, Leonatus, art the lion's whelp; The fit and apt construction of thy name, Being Leo-natus, doth import so much: The piece of tender air, thy virtuous daughter, [To Cymbeline. Which we call mollis aer; and mollis aer We term it mulier: which mulier I divine, Is this most constant wife; who, even now, Answering the letter of the oracle, Unknown to you, unsought, were clipp'd about
With this most tender air.
Cym.
This hath some seeming.
Sooth. The lofty cedar, royal Cymbeline,
Personates thee: and thy lopp'd branches point
Thy two sons forth: who, by Belarius stolen,
For many years thought dead, are now reviv'd,
To the majestic cedar join'd; whose issue
Promises Britain peace and plenty.
(3) Ghostly appearances.
(4) Embraced.
PERSONS REPRESENTED.
Saturninus, son to the late emperor of Rome, and || Alarbus,
afterwards declared emperor himself. Chiron,
Bassianus, brother to Saturninus; in love with || Demetrius,
Lavinia.
Titus Andronicus, a noble Roman, general against
the Goths. Marcus Andronicus, tribune of the people; and brother to Titus.
Lucius,
Quintus,
Martius,
Mutius,
sons to Titus Andronicus.
Young Lucius, a boy, son to Lucius.
Publius, son to Marcus the tribune.
Emilius, a noble Roman.
Saturninus.
NOBLE patricians, patrons of my right,
Defend the justice of my cause with arms;
And, countrymen, my loving followers,
Plead my successive title! with your swords;
I am his first-born son, that was the last
That ware the imperial diadem of Rome;
Then let my father's honours live in me,
Nor wrong mine with this indignity.
age Bas. Romans,-friends, followers, favourers of my right,
If ever Bassianus, Cæsar's son,
Were gracious in the eyes of royal Rome,
Keep then this passage to the Capitol;
And suffer not dishonour to approach
The imperial seat, to virtue consecrate,
To justice, continence, and nobility:
But let desert in pure election shine;
And, Romans, fight for freedom in your choice.
Enter Marcus Andronicus aloft, with the crown.
Mar. Princes that strive by factions, and by
friends,
Ambitiously for rule and empery,—
Know, that the people of Rome, for whom we
stand
A special party, have, by their common voice,
In election for the Roman empery,
Chosen Andronicus, surnamed Pius,
For many good and great deserts to Rome;
A nobler man, a braver warrior,
}
Aaron, a Moor, beloved by Tamora.
A Captain, Tribune, Messenger, and Clown;
ACT I.
SCENE I.-Rome. Before the Capitol. The
tomb of the Andronici appearing; the Tribunes
and Senators aloft, as in the senate. Enter, be-
low, Saturninus and his Followers, on one side;
Lives not this day within the city walls:
He by the senate is accited2 home,
From weary wars against the barbarous Goths;
That, with his sons, a terror to our foes,
Hath yok'd a nation strong, train'd up in arms.
Ten years are spent, since first he undertook
This cause of Rome, and chastised with arms
and Bassianus and his Followers, on the other;||Our enemies' pride: Five times he hath return'd
with drum and colours.
Bleeding to Rome, bearing his valiant sons
In coffins from the field;
(1) i. e. Title to the succession. (2) Summoned.
VOL. II.
Romans.
Goths, and Romans.
Tamora, Queen of the Goths.
Lavinia, daughter to Titus Andronicus.
A Nurse, and a black Child.
Kinsmen of Titus, Senators, Tribunes, Officers,
Soldiers, and Attendants.
Scene, Rome; and the country near it.
And now at last, laden with honour's spoils,
Returns the good Andronicus to Rome,
Renowned Titus, flourishing in arms.
Let us entreat,-By honour of his name,
Whom, worthily, you would have now succeed,
And in the Capitol and senate's right,
Whom you pretend to honour and adore,--
That you withdraw you, and abate your strength;
Dismiss your followers, and, as suitors should,
Plead your deserts in peace and humbleness.
Sat. How fair the tribune speaks to calm my
thoughts!
Bas. Marcus Andronicus, so I do affy
In thy uprightness and integrity,
And so I love and honour thee and thine,
Thy nobler brother Titus, and his sons,
And her to whom my thoughts are humbled all,
Gracious Lavinia, Rome's rich ornament,
That I will here dismiss my loving friends;
And to my fortunes, and the people's favour,
Commit my cause in balance to be weigh'd.
[Exeunt the Followers of Bassianus.
Sat. Friends, that have been thus forward in my
right,
all;
I thank you all, and here dismiss you
And to the love and favour of my country
Commit myself, my person, and the cause.
[Exeunt the Followers of Saturninus.
Rome, be as just and gracious unto me,
As I am confident and kind to thee.-
Open the gates, and let me in.
Bas. Tribunes! and me, a poor competitor.
[Sat. and Bas. go into the Capitol, and exeunt
with Senators, Marcus, &c.
3G
SCENE II.-The same. Enter a Captain, and others.
Cap. Romans, make way; The good Andronicus, Patron of virtue, Rome's best champion, Successful in the battles that he fights, With honour and with fortune is return'd, From where he circumscribed with his sword, And brought to yoke, the enemies of Rome. Flourish of trumpets, &c. Enter Mutius and Martius: after them, two men bearing a coffin, covere with black; then Quintus and Lucius. After them, Titus Andronicus; and then Tamora, with Alarbus, Chiron, Demetrius, Aaron, and other Goths, prisoners; Soldiers and People, following. The bearers set down the coffin, and Titus speaks.
Tit. Hail, Rome, victorious in thy mourning
weeds!
Lo, as the bark that hath discharg'd her fraught,1
Returns with precious lading to the bay,
From whence at first she weigh'd her anchorage,
Cometh Andronicus, bound with laurel boughs,
To re-salute his country with his tears;
Tears of true joy for his return to Rome.-
Thou great defender of this Capitol,2
Stand gracious to the rites that we intend!—
Romans, of five and twenty valiant sons,
Half of the number that king Priam had,
Behold the poor remains, alive, and dead!
These, that survive, let Rome reward with love;
These, that I bring unto their latest home,
With burial amongst their ancestors:
sword.
Here Goths have given me leave to sheathe my Remaineth nought, but to inter our brethren,
And with loud "larums welcome them to Rome.
Tit. Let it be so, and let Andronicus
Make this his latest farewell to their souls.
[Trumpets sounded, and the coffins laid in
the tomb.
In peace and honour rest you here, my sons;
Rome's readiest champions, repose you here,
Secure from worldly chances and mishaps!
Here lurks no treason, here no envy swells,
Here grow no damned grudges; here, are no storms,
No noise, but silence and eternal sleep:
Enter Lavinia.
In peace and honour rest you here, my sons!
Lav. In peace and honour live lord Titus long;
My noble lord and father, live in fame!
Lo! at this tomb my tributary tears
I render, for my brethren's obsequies;
And at thy feet I kneel with tears of joy
Shed on the earth, for thy return to Rome:
O, bless me here with thy victorious hand,
Whose fortunes Rome's best citizens applaud.
Tit. Kind Rome, that hast thus lovingly reserv'd
The cordial of mine age to glad my heart!
Lavinia, live; outlive thy father's days,
And fame's eternal date, for virtue's praise !5
Enter Marcus Andronicus, Saturninus, Bassianus,
and others.
Titus, unkind, and careless of thine own,
Why suffer'st thou thy sons, unburied yet,
To hover on the dreadful shore of Styx?-
Make way to lay them by their brethren.
[The tomb is opened.
There greet in silence, as the dead are wont,
And sleep in peace, slain in your country's wars!
O sacred receptacle of my joys,
Sweet cell of virtue and nobility,
How many sons of mine hast thou in store;
That thou wilt never render to me more?
Luc. Give us the proudest prisoner of the Goths,
That we may hew his limbs, and, on a pile,
Ad manes fratum sacrifice his flesh,
Before this earthly prison of their bones;
That so the shadows be not unappeas'd,
Nor we disturb'd with prodigies on earth.3
Tit. I give him you; the noblest that survives,
The eldest son of this distressed queen.
T'am. Stay, Roman brethren;-Gracious con-
queror,
Victorious Titus, rue the tears I shed,
A mother's tears in passion4 for her son:
And, if thy sons were ever dear to thee,
O, think my son to be as dear to me.
Sufficeth not, that we are brought to Rome,
To beautify thy triumphs, and return,
Captive to thee, and to thy Roman yoke;
But must my sons be slaughter'd in the streets,
For valiant doings in their country's cause?
O! if to fight for king and common weal
Were piety in thine, it is in these.
Andronicus, stain not thy tomb with blood:
Wilt thou draw near the nature of the gods?
(1) Freight.
(2) Jupiter, to whom the Capitol was sacred. (3) It was supposed that the ghosts of unburied people appeared to solicit the rites of funeral.
Draw near them then in being merciful:
Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge;
Thrice-noble Titus, spare my first-born son.
Tit. Patient yourself, madam, and pardon me.
These are their brethren, whom you Goths beheld
Alive, and dead; and for their brethren slain,
Religiously they ask a sacrifice :
To this your son is mark'd; and die he must,
To appease their groaning shadows that are gone:
And with our swords, upon a pile of wood,
Luc. Away with him! and make a fire straight;
Let's hew his limbs, till they be clean consum'd.
[Exeunt Lucius, Quintus, Martius, and Mutius,
with Alarbus.
Tam. O cruel, irreligious piety!
Chi. Was ever Scythia half so barbarous?
Dem. Oppose not Scythia to ambitious Rome.
Alarbus goes to rest; and we survive
To tremble under Titus' threatening look.
Then, madam, stand resolv'd; but hope withal,
The self-same gods, that arm'd the queen of Troy
With opportunity of sharp revenge
Upon the Thracian tyrant in his tent,
May favour Tamora, the queen of Goths
(When Goths were Goths, and Tamora was queen,)
To quit the bloody wrongs upon her foes.
Re-enter Lucius, Quintus, Martius, and Mutius,
with their swords bloody.
Luc. See, lord and father, how we have perform'd
Our Roman rites: Alarbus' limbs are lopp'd,
And entrails feed the sacrificing fire,
Whose smoke, like incense, doth perfume the sky.
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