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Dem. Stay, madam, here is more belongs to her ; This is the hole where Aaron bid us hide him.
And with that painted hope braves your mightiness:
Chi. An if she do, I would I were an eunuch.
Tam. But when you have the honey you
Come, mistress, now perforce we will enjoy
Lav. O Tamora! thou bear'st a woman's face,-
Lav. When did the tiger's young ones teach the
Lav. 'Tis true; the raven doth not hatch a lark: Yet I have heard, (O could I find it now!) The lion mov'd with pity, did endure To have his princely paws par'd all away. Some say that ravens foster forlorn children, The whilst their own birds famish in their nests: O, be to me, though thy hard heart say no, Nothing so kind, but something pitiful!
Tam. I know not what it means; away with her. Lav. O, let me teach thee: for my father's sake, That gave thee life, when well he might have slain thee,
Be not obdurate, open thy deaf ears.
Tam. Had thou in person ne'er offended me, Even for his sake am I pitiless Remember, boys, I pour'd forth tears in vain, To save your brother from the sacrifice; But fierce Andronicus would not relent. Therefore away with her, and use her as you will;} The worse to her, the better lov'd of me.
Lav. O Tamora, be call'd a gentle queen, And with thine own hands kill me in this place : For 'tis not life, that I have begg'd so long; Poor I was slain, when Bassianus died.
Tam. What begg'st thou then? fond woman, let me go.
Lav. 'Tis present death I beg; and one thing
That womanhood denies my tongue to tell :
Tam. So should I rob my sweet sons of their fee: No, let them satisfy their lust on thee.
Dem. Away, for thou hast staid us here too long. Lav. No grace? no womanhood? Ah, beastly
The blot and enemy to our general name!
Chi. Nay, then I'll stop your mouth :-Bring thou her husband; [Dragging off Lav.
[Exeunt. Tam. Farewell, my sons: see that you make her
Ne'er let my heart know merry cheer indeed,
Aar. Come on, my lords; the better foot before: Straight will I bring you to the loathsome pit, Where I espy'd the panther fast asleep.
Quin. My sight is very dull, whate'er it bodes. Mart. And mine, I promise you; were't not for shame,
Well could I leave our sport to sleep a while. [Martius falls into the pit. Quin. What, art thou fallen? What subtle hole is this,
Whose mouth is cover'd with rude-growing briars;
That he thereby may give a likely guess,
Quin. I am surprised with an uncouth fear: A chilling sweat o'er-runs my trembling joints; My heart suspects more than mine eye can see.
Mart. To prove thou hast a true-divining heart, Aaron and thou look down into this den, And see a fearful sight of blood and death.
Quin. Aaron is gone; and my compassionate heart
Will not permit mine eyes once to behold
Mart. Lord Bassianus lies embrewed here,
Quin. If it be dark, how dost thou know 'tis he?
Quin. Reach me thy hand, that I may help thee out;
Or, wanting strength to do thee so much good,
Enter Saturninus and Aaron.
Sat. Along with me :-I'll see what hole is here,
Mart. The unhappy son of old Andronicus;
Dem. So, now go tell, an if thy tongue can speak,
Sat. My brother dead? I know, thou dost but Who 'twas that cut thy tongue, and ravish'd thee. jest: Chi. Write down thy mind, bewray thy meaning so;
He and his lady both are at the lodge, Upon the north side of this pleasant chase; 'Tis not an hour since I left him there.
And, if thy stumps will let thee, play the scribe. Dem. See, how with signs and tokens she can scowl.
Mart. We know not where you left him all alive, But, out alas! here have we found him dead. Enter Tamora, with Attendants; Titus Andronicus, and Lucius.
Tam. Where is my lord, the king?
Sat. Here, Tamora; though griev'd with killing
Tam. Where is thy brother Bassianus ?
Tam. Then all too late I bring this fatal writ,
Aar. My gracious lord, here is the bag of gold. [Showing it.
Sat. Two of thy whelps, [To Tit.] fell curs of
Have here bereft my brother of his life :-
Tit. High emperor, upon my feeble knee I beg this boon, with tears not lightly shed, That this fell fault of my accursed sons, Accursed, if the fault be prov'd in them,
Sat. If it be proved! you see, it is apparent.
Tam, Andronicus himself did take it up.
Sat. Thou shalt not bail them: see, thou follow me.
Tam. Andronicus, I will entreat the king; Fear not thy sons, they shall do well enough. (2) Orpheus.
Tit. Come, Lucius, come; stay not to talk with
The complot of this timeless' tragedy;
If I do wake, some planet strike me down,
Sat. [Reads.] An if we miss to meet him hand-||That I may slumber in eternal sleep!—
SCENE V-The same.
Enter Demetrius and Chiron, with Lavinia, ravished; her hands cut off, and her tongue cut out.
Chi. Go home, call for sweet water, wash thy hands.
Dem. She hath no tongue to call, nor hands to wash;
And so let's leave her to her silent walks.
Mar. Who's this,-my niece, that flies away so fast? Cousin, a word; Where is your husband?— If I do dream, 'would all my wealth would wake me!
Speak, gentle niece, what stern ungentle hands
And might not gain so great a happiness,
He would have dropp'd his knife, and fell asleep,
SCENE I-Rome. A street. Enter Senators, Tribunes, and Officers of Justice, with Martius and Quintus, bound, passing on to the place of execution: Titus going before, pleading.
Tit. Hear me, grave fathers! noble tribunes, stay! For pity of mine age, whose youth was spent In dangerous wars, whilst you securely slept; For all my blood in Rome's great quarrel shed; For all the frosty nights that I have watch'd; And for these bitter tears, which now you see Filling the aged wrinkles in my cheeks; Be pitiful to my condemned sons, Whose souls are not corrupted as 'tis thought! For two and twenty sons I never wept, Because they died in honour's lofty bed. For these, these tribunes, in the dust I write [Throwing himself on the ground. My heart's deep languor, and my soul's sad tears. Let my tears stanch the earth's dry appetite; My sons' sweet blood will make it shame and blush. [Exeunt Senators, Tribunes, &c. with
O earth, I will befriend thee more with rain,
Enter Lucius, with his sword drawn.
O, reverend tribunes! gentle aged men!
Luc. O, noble father, you lament in vain ;
Tit. Why, 'tis no matter, man: if they did hear, They would not mark me; or, if they did mark, All bootless to them, they'd not pity me. Therefore I tell my sorrows to the stones; Who, though they cannot answer my distress, Ye in some sort they're better than the tribunes, For that they will not intercept my tale : When I do weep, they humbly at my feet Receive my tears, and seem to weep with me; And, were they but attired in grave weeds, Rome could afford no tribune like to these. A stone is soft as wax, tribunes more hard than
A stone is silent, and offendeth not;
For which attempt, the judges have pronounc'd My everlasting doom of banishment.
Tit. O happy man! they have befriended thee. Why, foolish Lucius, dost thou not perceive, That Rome is but a wilderness of tigers? Tigers must prey; and Rome affords no prey, But me and mine: How happy art thou then, From these devourers to be banished? But who comes with our brother Marcus here?
(1) The river Nile.
Enter Marcus and Lavinia.
Mar. Titus, prepare thy noble eyes to weep;
Tit. Will it consume me? let me see it then.
Tit. Why, Marcus, so she is.
Speak, my Lavinia, what accursed hand
Luc. Speak, gentle sister, who hath martyr'a
Mar. O, thus I found her, straying in the park, Seeking to hide herself, as doth the deer, That hath receiv'd some unrecuring wound.
Tit. It was my deer; and he, that wounded her, Hath hurt me more, than had he kill'd me dead: For now I stand as one upon a rock, Who marks the waxing tide grow wave by wave, Environ'd with a wilderness of sea; Will in his brinish bowels swallow him. Expecting ever when some envious surge Here stands my other son, a banish'd man; This way to death my wretched sons are gone; And here, my brother, weeping at my woes; But that, which gives my soul the greatest spurn, Is dear Lavinia, dearer than my soul.Had I but seen thy picture in this plight, It would have madded me; What shall I do Now I behold thy lively body so? Thou hast no hands, to wipe away thy tears; Nor tongue, to tell me who hath martyr'd thee: Thy husband he is dead; and, for his death, Thy brothers are condemn'd, and dead by this :Look, Marcus! ah, son Lucius, look on her! When I did name her brothers, then fresh tears Upon a gather'd lily almost wither'd. Stood on her cheeks; as doth the honey dew
Mar. Perchance, she weeps because they kill'd her husband;
Perchance, because she knows them innocent.
Tit. If they did kill thy husband, then be joyful, No, no, they would not do so foul a deed; Because the law hath ta'en revenge on them.Witness the sorrow that their sister makes.Gentle Lavinia, let me kiss thy lips;
Or make some sign how I may do thee ease: Shall thy good uncle, and thy brother Lucius, And thou, and I, sit round about some fountain; Looking all downwards, to behold our cheeks How they are stain'd? like meadows, yet not dry With miry slime left on them by a flood?
And in the fountain shall we gaze so long,
To make us wonder'd at in time to come.
Luc. Sweet father, cease your tears; for, at your grief,
See, how my wretched sister sobs and weeps. Mar. Patience, dear niece:-good Titus, dry thine eyes.
Tit. Ah, Marcus, Marcus! brother, well I wot, Thy napkin2 cannot drink a tear of mine, For thou, poor man, hast drown'd it with thine own. Luc. Ah, my Lavinia, I will wipe thy cheeks. Tit. Mark, Marcus, mark! I understand her signs:
Had she a tongue to speak, now would she say
Aar. 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. O, gracious emperor! O, 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. Mar. Which of your hands hath not defended Rome,
And rear'd aloft the bloody battle-axe,
Aar. Nay, come agree, whose hand shall go along,
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.
Mar. 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. Mar. 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.
(1) Know. (2) Handkerchief. (3) Sufferings.
Aar. If that be call'd 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 can pass. [Aside. : [He cuts off Titus's hand.
Enter Lucius and Marcus.
Tit. Now, stay your strife; what shall be, is despatch'd.
Good Aaron, give his majesty my hand:
Aar. I go, Andronicus: and for thy hand,
To that I call-What, wilt thou kneel with me? [To Lavinia. Do then, dear heart; for heaven shall hear our prayers;
Or with our sighs we'll breathe the welkin dim, And stain the sun with fog, as sometime clouds, When they do hug him in their melting bosoms. Mar. O brother, speak with possibilities, And do not break into these deep extremes.
Tit. Is not my sorrow deep, having no bottom? Then be my passions bottomless with them. Mar. But yet let reason govern thy lament. Tit. If there were reason for these miseries, Then into limits could I bind my woes: When heaven doth weep, doth not the earth o'erflow?
If the winds rage, doth not the sea wax mad,
Thou map of wo,
That ever death should let life bear his name,
Tit. When will this fearful slumber have an end? Mar. Now, farewell flattery: Die, Andronicus; Thou dost not slumber: see, thy two sons' heads; Thy warlike hand; thy mangled daughter here; Thy other banish'd son, with this dear sight Struck pale and bloodless; and thy brother, I, Even like a stony image, cold and numb. Ah! now no more will I control thy griefs: Rent 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!
Mar. Why dost thou laugh? it fits not with this hour.
Tit. Why, I have not another tear to shed: Besides, this sorrow is an enemy, And would usurp upon my watry eyes,. And make them blind with tributary tears; Then which way shall I find revenge's cave? For these two heads do seem to speak to 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: Lavinia, thou shalt be employed in these things; Bear thou my hand, sweet wench, between thy teeth.
As for thee, boy, go get thee from my sight;
O, 'would thou wert as thou 'tofore hast been!
If Lucius live, he will requite your wrongs;
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 tenfold grief With folded arms. This poor right hand of mine Is left to tyrannize upon my breast; And when my heart, all mad with misery, Beats in this hollow prison of my flesh, Then thus I thump it down.
(1) An allusion to brewing.
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.
Mar. 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.
Speechless complainer, I will learn thy thoughts;
And, by still? practice, learn to know thy meaning.
Make my aunt merry with some pleasing tale.
Mar. Alas, the tender boy, in passion mov'd,
And tears will quickly melt thy life away.-
Mine eyes are cloy'd with view of tyranny:
Mar. Alas, my lord, I have but kill'd a fly.
That with his pretty buzzing melody,
Came here to make us merry; and thou hast kill'd him.
Mar. Pardon me, sir; 'twas a black ill-favour'd fly,
Like to the empress' Moor; therefore I kill'd him. Tit. 0, 0, 0,
Then pardon me for reprehending thee,
(2) Constant or continual practice.