Titus Andronicus (Dover Publications) Read online

  Doth weep to see his grandsire’s heaviness.

  TITUS Peace, tender sapling; thou art made of tears, 50

  And tears will quickly melt thy life away.

  [Marcus strikes the dish with a knife.

  What dost thou strike at, Marcus, with thy knife?

  MARC. At that that I have kill’d, my lord,—a fly.

  TITUS Out on thee, murderer! thou kill’st my heart;

  Mine eyes are cloy’d with view of tyranny:

  A deed of death done on the innocent

  Becomes not Titus’ brother: get thee gone;

  I see thou art not for my company.

  MARC. Alas, my lord, I have but kill’d a fly. 60

  TITUS “But!” How, if that fly had a father and mother?

  How would he hang his slender gilded wings,

  And buzz lamenting doings in the air!63

  Poor harmless fly,

  That, with his pretty buzzing melody,

  Came here to make us merry! and thou hast kill’d him.

  MARC. Pardon me, sir; it was a black ill-favour’d fly,

  Like to the empress’ Moor; therefore I kill’d him.

  TIT. O, O, O,

  Then pardon me for reprehending thee, 70

  For thou hast done a charitable deed.

  Give me thy knife, I will insult on him; 72

  Flattering myself, as if it were the Moor

  Come hither purposely to poison me.

  There’s for thyself, and that’s for Tamora.

  Ah, sirrah!

  Yet, I think, we are not brought so low,

  But that between us we can kill a fly

  That comes in likeness of a coal-black Moor.

  MARC. Alas, poor man! grief has so wrought on him, 80

  He takes false shadows for true substances.

  TITUS Come, take away. Lavinia, go with me:

  I’ll to thy closet; and go read with thee

  Sad stories chanced in the times of old.

  Come, boy, and go with me: thy sight is young,

  And thou shalt read when mine begin to dazzle.

  [Exeunt.

  * * *

  73 like Nilus] an allusion to the annual overflow of the river Nile.

  84 engine of her thoughts] tongue.

  92 unrecuring] incurable.

  93 my dear] a favourite pun with Shakespeare.

  107 lively] living.

  114 the honey-dew] the sweet sticky secretion deposited by the tiny insect, generically called aphis, on the leaves of flowers.

  151 Limbo] A region on the borders of hell to which the fathers or patriarchs of old were believed to be consigned.

  209 fat] fatten.

  230 coil] commotion.

  236 For why] Because.

  307 a power] an army

  4 that sorrow-wreathen knot] Marcus’ folded arms, the posture ordinarily associated with deep melancholy.

  6 passionate] express with passionate gesture.

  15 Wound it with sighing] It was a common belief that sighs consumed the heart’s blood.

  20 fool] here a term of endearment.

  31 square] shape, regulate.

  36 her martyr’d signs] signs of martyrdom, suffering.

  38 mesh’d] mixed up together, a variant of “mashed.”

  45 still] constant, continual.

  63 lamenting doings] tidings of woe.

  72 insult on him] triumph insolently over him.

  ACT IV.

  SCENE I. Rome. Titus’s Garden.

  Enter young LUCIUS and LAVINIA running after him, and the boy flies from her, with his books under his arm. Then enter TITUS and MARCUS

  BOY. Help, Grandsire, Help! my aunt Lavinia

  Follows me every where, I know not why:

  Good uncle Marcus, see how swift she comes.

  Alas, sweet aunt, I know not what you mean.

  MARC. Stand by me, Lucius; do not fear thine aunt.

  TIT. She loves thee, boy, too well to do thee harm.

  BOY. Ay, when my father was in Rome she did.

  MARC. What means my niece Lavinia by these signs?

  TIT. Fear her not, Lucius: somewhat doth she mean:

  See, Lucius, see how much she makes of thee: 10

  Somewhither would she have thee go with her.

  Ah, boy, Cornelia never with more care12

  Read to her sons than she hath read to thee

  Sweet poetry and Tully’s Orator.14

  MARC. Canst thou not guess wherefore she plies thee thus?

  BOY. My lord, I know not, I, nor can I guess,

  Unless some fit or frenzy do possess her:

  For I have heard my grandsire say full oft,

  Extremity of griefs would make men mad;

  And I have read that Hecuba of Troy 20

  Ran mad for sorrow: that made me to fear;

  Although, my lord, I know my noble aunt

  Loves me as dear as e’er my mother did,

  And would not, but in fury, fright my youth:24

  Which made me down to throw my books and fly,

  Causeless perhaps. But pardon me, sweet aunt:

  And, madam, if my uncle Marcus go,

  I will most willingly attend your ladyship.

  MARC. Lucius, I will. [Lavinia turns over with her stumps the books which Lucius has let fall. 30

  TIT. How now, Lavinia! Marcus, what means this?

  Some book there is that she desires to see.

  Which is it, girl, of these? Open them, boy.

  But thou art deeper read, and better skill’d:

  Come, and take choice of all my library,

  And so beguile thy sorrow, till the heavens

  Reveal the damn’d contriver of this deed.

  Why lifts she up her arms in sequence thus?

  MARC. I think she means that there were more than one

  Confederate in the fact; ay, more there was; 40

  Or else to heaven she heaves them for revenge.

  TIT. Lucius, what book is that she tosseth so?42

  BOY. Grandsire, ’t is Ovid’s Metamorphoses: 43

  My mother gave it me.

  MARC. For love of her that’s gone,

  Perhaps she cull’d it from among the rest.

  TIT. Soft! so busily she turns the leaves!

  Help her:

  What would she find? Lavinia, shall I read?

  This is the tragic tale of Philomel, 50

  And treats of Tereus’ treason and his rape; 51

  And rape, I fear, was root of thine annoy.52

  MARC. See, brother, see; note how she quotes the leaves.53

  TIT. Lavinia, wert thou thus surprised, sweet girl,

  Ravish’d and wrong’d, as Philomela was,

  Forced in the ruthless, vast, and gloomy woods?

  See, see!

  Ay, such a place there is, where we did hunt,—

  O, had we never, never hunted there!—

  Pattern’d by that the poet here describes, 60

  By nature made for murders and for rapes.

  MARC. O, why should nature build so foul a den,

  Unless the gods delight in tragedies?

  TIT. Give signs, sweet girl, for here are none but friends,

  What Roman lord it was durst do the deed:

  Or slunk not Saturnine, as Tarquin erst,

  That left the camp to sin in Lucrece’ bed?

  MARC. Sit down, sweet niece: brother, sit down by me.

  Apollo, Pallas, Jove, or Mercury,

  Inspire me, that I may this treason find! 70

  My lord, look here: look here, Lavinia:

  This sandy plot is plain; guide, if thou canst,

  This after me.72

  This after me.

  [He writes his name with his staff, and guides it with feet and mouth.] I have writ my name

  Without the help of any hand at all.

  Cursed be that heart that forced us to this shift!

  Write thou, good niece; and here displa
y at last

  What God will have discovered for revenge:

  Heaven guide thy pen to print thy sorrows plain,

  That we may know the traitors and the truth! 80

  [She takes the staff in her mouth, and guides it with her stumps, and writes.

  TIT. O, do ye read, my lord, what she hath writ?

  “Stuprum. Chiron. Demetrius.”

  MARC. What, what! the lustful sons of Tamora84

  Performers of this heinous, bloody deed?

  TIT. Magni Dominator poli,

  Tam lentus audis scelera? tam lentus vides?

  MARC. O, calm thee, gentle lord; although I know

  There is enough written upon this earth 90

  To stir a mutiny in the mildest thoughts,

  And arm the minds of infants to exclaims.

  My lord, kneel down with me; Lavinia, kneel;

  And kneel, sweet boy, the Roman Hector’s hope;94

  And swear with me, as, with the woful fere95

  And father of that chaste dishonour’d dame,

  Lord Junius Brutus sware for Lucrece’ rape,

  That we will prosecute by good advice98

  Mortal revenge upon these traitorous Goths,

  And see their blood, or die with this reproach. 100

  TIT.’T is sure enough, an you knew how.

  But if you hunt these bear-whelps, then beware:

  The dam will wake; and if she wind you once,

  She’s with the lion deeply still in league,

  And lulls him whilst she playeth on her back,

  And when he sleeps will she do what she list.

  You are a young huntsman, Marcus; let alone;

  And, come, I will go get a leaf of brass,

  And with a gad of steel will write these words,109

  And lay it by: the angry northern wind 110

  Will blow these sands, like Sibyl’s leaves, abroad,

  And where’s your lesson then? Boy, what say you?

  BOY. I say, my lord, that if I were a man,

  Their mother’s bed-chamber should not be safe

  For these bad bondmen to the yoke of Rome.115

  MARC. Ay, that’s my boy! thy father hath full oft

  For his ungrateful country done the like.

  BOY. And, uncle, so will I, an if I live.

  TIT. Come, go with me into mine armoury;

  Lucius, I’ll fit thee, and withal, my boy 120

  Shall carry from me to the empress’ sons

  Presents that I intend to send them both:

  Come, come; thou’lt do thy message, wilt thou not?

  BOY. Ay, with my dagger in their bosoms, grandsire.

  TIT. No, boy, not so; I’ll teach thee another course.

  Lavinia, come. Marcus, look to my house:

  Lucius and I’ll go brave it at the court;

  Ay, marry, will we, sir; and we’ll be waited on.

  [Exeunt Titus, Lavinia, and young Lucius.

  MARC. O heavens, can you hear a good man groan, 130

  And not relent, or not compassion him?131

  Marcus, attend him in his ecstasy,132

  That hath more scars of sorrow in his heart

  Than foemen’s marks upon his batter’d shield,

  But yet so just that he will not revenge.

  Revenge, ye heavens, for old Andronicus! [Exit.

  SCENE II. The Same. A Room in the Palace.

  Enter AARON, CHIRON and DEMETRIUS at one door; and at another door, young LUCIUS, and an Attendant, with a bundle of weapons and verses writ upon them

  CHI. Demetrius, here’s the son of Lucius;

  He hath some message to deliver us.

  AAR. Ay, some mad message from his mad grandfather.

  BOY. My lords, with all the humbleness I may,

  I greet your honours from Andronicus.

  [Aside] And pray the Roman gods confound you both!

  DEM. Gramercy, lovely Lucius: what’s the news?

  BOY. [Aside] That you are both decipher’d, that’s the news,

  For villains mark’d with rape.—May it please you,

  My grandsire, well advised, hath sent by me 10

  The goodliest weapons of his armoury

  To gratify your honourable youth,

  The hope of Rome; for so he bid me say;

  And so I do, and with his gifts present

  Your lordships, that, whenever you have need,

  You may be armed and appointed well:16

  And so I leave you both, [Aside] like bloody villains.

  [Exeunt Boy and Attendant

  DEM. What’s here? A scroll, and written round about!

  Let’s see: 20

  “Integer vitæ, scelerisque purus,21

  Non eget Mauri jaculis, nec arcu.”22

  CHI. O, ’t is a verse in Horace; I know it well:

  I read it in the grammar long ago.24

  AAR. Ay, just; a verse in Horace; right, you have it.

  [Aside] Now, what a thing it is to be an ass!

  Here’s no sound jest: the old man hath found their guilt,27

  And sends them weapons wrapp’d about with lines,

  That wound, beyond their feeling, to the quick.29

  But were our witty empress well afoot, 30

  She would applaud Andronicus’ conceit:

  But let her rest in her unrest awhile.—

  And now, young lords, was’t not a happy star

  Led us to Rome, strangers, and more than so,

  Captives, to be advanced to this height?

  It did me good, before the palace gate

  To brave the tribune in his brother’s hearing.

  DEM. But me more good, to see so great a lord

  Basely insinuate and send us gifts.39

  AAR. Had he not reason, Lord Demetrius? 40

  Did you not use his daughter very friendly?

  DEM. I would we had a thousand Roman dames

  At such a bay, by turn to serve our lust.43

  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. [Aside] Pray to the devils; the gods have given us over.

  [Trumpets sound within. 50

  DEM. Why do the emperor’s trumpets flourish thus?

  CHI. Belike, for joy the emperor hath a son.

  DEM. Soft! who comes here?

  Enter Nurse, with a blackamoor Child

  NUR Good morrow, lords:

  O, tell me, did you see Aaron the Moor?

  AAR. Well, more or less, or ne’er a whit at all,

  Here Aaron is; and what with Aaron now?

  NUR. O gentle Aaron, we are all undone!

  Now help, or woe betide thee evermore!

  AAR. Why, what a caterwauling dost thou keep! 60

  What dost thou wrap and fumble in thine arms?

  NURO, that which I would hide from heaven’s eye,

  Our empress’ shame and stately Rome’s disgrace!

  She is deliver’d, lords, she is deliver’d.

  AAR. To whom?

  NUR. I mean, she is brought a-bed.

  AAR. Well, God give her good rest! What hath he sent her?

  NUR. A devil.

  AAR. Why, then she is the devil’s dam;

  A joyful issue. 70

  NUR. A joyless, dismal, black and sorrowful issue:

  Here is the babe, as loathsome as a toad

  Amongst the fairest breeders of our clime:73

  The empress sends it thee, thy stamp, thy seal,

  And bids thee christen it with thy dagger’s point.

  AAR. ’Zounds, ye whore! is black so base a hue?

  Sweet blowse, you are a beauteous blossom, sure.77

  DEM. Villain, what hast thou done?

  AAR.That which thou canst not undo.

  CHI. T
hou hast undone our mother. 80

  AAR. Villain, I have done thy mother.

  DEM. And therein, hellish dog, thou hast undone her.

  Woe to her chance, and damn’d her loathed choice!

  Accursed 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:90

  Nurse, give it me; my sword shall soon dispatch it.

  AAR. Sooner this sword shall plough thy bowels up.

  [Takes the Child from the Nurse, and draws.

  Stay, murderous villains! will you kill your brother?

  Now, by the burning tapers of the sky,

  That shone so brightly when this boy was got,

  He dies upon my scimitar’s sharp point

  Titus Andronicus

  That touches this my first-born son and heir!

  I tell you, younglings, not Enceladus,99

  With all his threatening band of Typhon’s brood, 100

  Nor great Alcides, nor the god of war,101

  Shall seize this prey out of his father’s hands.

  What, what, ye sanguine, shallow-hearted boys! 103

  Ye white-limed walls! ye alehouse painted signs!104

  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 the swan’s black legs to white,

  Although she lave them hourly in the flood.

  Tell the empress from me, I am of age 110

  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 shamed.

  CHI. Rome will despise her for this foul escape. 119

  NUR The emperor in his rage will doom her death. 120

  CHI. I blush to think upon this ignomy.121

  AAR. Why, there’s the privilege your beauty bears:

  Fie, treacherous hue, that will betray with blushing

  The close enacts and counsels of the heart!124

  Here’s a young lad framed of another leer:125

  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;