Complete Plays, The Read online

  And calls herself Revenge, and thinks me mad:

  Hark, villains! I will grind your bones to dust

  And with your blood and it I’ll make a paste,

  And of the paste a coffin I will rear

  And make two pasties of your shameful heads,

  And bid that strumpet, your unhallow’d dam,

  Like to the earth swallow her own increase.

  This is the feast that I have bid her to,

  And this the banquet she shall surfeit on;

  For worse than Philomel you used my daughter,

  And worse than Progne I will be revenged:

  And now prepare your throats. Lavinia, come,

  He cuts their throats

  Receive the blood: and when that they are dead,

  Let me go grind their bones to powder small

  And with this hateful liquor temper it;

  And in that paste let their vile heads be baked.

  Come, come, be every one officious

  To make this banquet; which I wish may prove

  More stern and bloody than the Centaurs’ feast.

  So, now bring them in, for I’ll play the cook,

  And see them ready ’gainst their mother comes.

  Exeunt, bearing the dead bodies

  SCENE III. COURT OF TITUS’S HOUSE. A BANQUET SET OUT.

  Enter Lucius, Marcus, and Goths, with Aaron prisoner

  Lucius

  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.

  Lucius

  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.

  Aaron

  Some devil whisper curses in mine ear,

  And prompt me, that my tongue may utter forth

  The venomous malice of my swelling heart!

  Lucius

  Away, inhuman dog! unhallow’d slave!

  Sirs, help our uncle to convey him in.

  Exeunt Goths, with Aaron. Flourish within

  The trumpets show the emperor is at hand.

  Enter Saturninus and Tamora, with Aemilius, Tribunes, Senators, and others

  Saturninus

  What, hath the firmament more suns than one?

  Lucius

  What boots it thee to call thyself a sun?

  Marcus Andronicus

  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.

  Saturninus

  Marcus, we will.

  Hautboys sound. The Company sit down at table

  Enter Titus dressed like a Cook, Lavinia veiled, Young Lucius, and others. Titus places the dishes on the table

  Titus Andronicus

  Welcome, my gracious lord; welcome, dread queen;

  Welcome, ye warlike Goths; welcome, Lucius;

  And welcome, all: although the cheer be poor,

  ’Twill fill your stomachs; please you eat of it.

  Saturninus

  Why art thou thus attired, Andronicus?

  Titus Andronicus

  Because I would be sure to have all well,

  To entertain your highness and your empress.

  Tamora

  We are beholding to you, good Andronicus.

  Titus Andronicus

  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?

  Saturninus

  It was, Andronicus.

  Titus Andronicus

  Your reason, mighty lord?

  Saturninus

  Because the girl should not survive her shame,

  And by her presence still renew his sorrows.

  Titus Andronicus

  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;

  Kills Lavinia

  And, with thy shame, thy father’s sorrow die!

  Saturninus

  What hast thou done, unnatural and unkind?

  Titus Andronicus

  Kill’d her, for whom my tears have made me blind.

  I am as woful as Virginius was,

  And have a thousand times more cause than he

  To do this outrage: and it now is done.

  Saturninus

  What, was she ravish’d? tell who did the deed.

  Titus Andronicus

  Will’t please you eat? will’t please your highness feed?

  Tamora

  Why hast thou slain thine only daughter thus?

  Titus Andronicus

  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.

  Saturninus

  Go fetch them hither to us presently.

  Titus Andronicus

  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

  Saturninus

  Die, frantic wretch, for this accursed deed!

  Kills Titus

  Lucius

  Can the son’s eye behold his father bleed?

  There’s meed for meed, death for a deadly deed!

  Kills Saturninus. A great tumult. Lucius, Marcus, and others go up into the balcony

  Marcus Andronicus

  You sad-faced 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 court’sy 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 surprised 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 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.

  Lucius

 
Then, noble auditory, be it known to you,

  That cursed Chiron and Demetrius

  Were they that murdered our emperor’s brother;

  And they it were that ravished our sister:

  For their fell faults our brothers were beheaded;

  Our father’s tears despised, 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 oped their arms to embrace me as a friend.

  I am the turned forth, be it known to you,

  That have preserved 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.

  Marcus Andronicus

  Now is my turn to speak. Behold this child:

  Pointing to the Child in the arms of an Attendant

  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,

  And 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.

  Aemilius

  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.

  All

  Lucius, all hail, Rome’s royal emperor!

  Marcus Andronicus

  Go, go into old Titus’ sorrowful house,

  To Attendants

  And hither hale that misbelieving Moor,

  To be adjudged some direful slaughtering death,

  As punishment for his most wicked life.

  Exeunt Attendants

  Lucius, Marcus, and the others descend

  All

  Lucius, all hail, Rome’s gracious governor!

  Lucius

  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,

  Kissing Titus

  These sorrowful drops upon thy blood-stain’d face,

  The last true duties of thy noble son!

  Marcus Andronicus

  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!

  Lucius

  Come hither, boy; come, come, and learn of us

  To melt in showers: thy grandsire loved thee well:

  Many a time he danced 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.

  Young Lucius

  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.

  Re-enter Attendants with Aaron

  Aemilius

  You sad Andronici, have done with woes:

  Give sentence on this execrable wretch,

  That hath been breeder of these dire events.

  Lucius

  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.

  Aaron

  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.

  Lucius

  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 m mourning 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

  Romeo and Juliet

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  CHARACTERS OF THE PLAY

  ACT I

  PROLOGUE

  SCENE I. VERONA. A PUBLIC PLACE.

  SCENE II. A STREET.

  SCENE III. A ROOM IN CAPULET’S HOUSE.

  SCENE IV. A STREET.

  SCENE V. A HALL IN CAPULET’S HOUSE.

  ACT II

  PROLOGUE

  SCENE I. A LANE BY THE WALL OF CAPULET’S ORCHARD.

  SCENE II. CAPULET’S ORCHARD.

  SCENE III. FRIAR LAURENCE’S CELL.

  SCENE IV. A STREET.

  SCENE V. CAPULET’S ORCHARD.

  SCENE VI. FRIAR LAURENCE’S CELL.

  ACT III

  SCENE I. A PUBLIC PLACE.

  SCENE II. CAPULET’S ORCHARD.

  SCENE III. FRIAR LAURENCE’S CELL.

  SCENE IV. A ROOM IN CAPULET’S HOUSE.

  SCENE V. CAPULET’S ORCHARD.

  ACT IV

  SCENE I. FRIAR LAURENCE’S CELL.

  SCENE II. HALL IN CAPULET’S HOUSE.

  SCENE III. JULIET’S CHAMBER.

  SCENE IV. HALL IN CAPULET’S HOUSE.

  SCENE V. JULIET’S CHAMBER.

  ACT V

  SCENE I. MANTUA. A STREET.

  SCENE II. FRIAR LAURENCE’S CELL.

  SCENE III. A CHURCHYARD; IN IT A TOMB BELONGING TO THE CAPULETS.

  CHARACTERS OF THE PLAY


  Chorus.

  Escalus, Prince of Verona.

  Paris, a young Count, kinsman to the Prince.

  Montague, heads of two houses at variance with each other.

  Capulet, heads of two houses at variance with each other.

  An old Man, of the Capulet family.

  Romeo, son to Montague.

  Tybalt, nephew to Lady Capulet.

  Mercutio, kinsman to the Prince and friend to Romeo.

  Benvolio, nephew to Montague, and friend to Romeo

  Tybalt, nephew to Lady Capulet.

  Friar Laurence, Franciscan.

  Friar John, Franciscan.

  Balthasar, servant to Romeo.

  Abram, servant to Montague.

  Sampson, servant to Capulet.

  Gregory, servant to Capulet.

  Peter, servant to Juliet's nurse.

  An Apothecary.

  Three Musicians.

  An Officer.

  Lady Montague, wife to Montague.

  Lady Capulet, wife to Capulet.

  Juliet, daughter to Capulet.

  Nurse to Juliet.

  Citizens of Verona; Gentlemen and Gentlewomen of both houses; Maskers, Torchbearers, Pages, Guards, Watchmen, Servants, and Attendants.

  Scene: Verona; Mantua.

  ACT I

  PROLOGUE

  Two households, both alike in dignity,

  In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,

  From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,

  Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.

  From forth the fatal loins of these two foes

  A pair of star-cross’d lovers take their life;

  Whole misadventured piteous overthrows

  Do with their death bury their parents’ strife.

  The fearful passage of their death-mark’d love,

  And the continuance of their parents’ rage,

  Which, but their children’s end, nought could remove,

  Is now the two hours’ traffic of our stage;

  The which if you with patient ears attend,

  What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.

  SCENE I. VERONA. A PUBLIC PLACE.

  Enter Sampson and Gregory, of the house of Capulet, armed with swords and bucklers

  Sampson

  Gregory, o’ my word, we’ll not carry coals.

  Gregory

  No, for then we should be colliers.

  Sampson

  I mean, an we be in choler, we’ll draw.

  Gregory

  Ay, while you live, draw your neck out o’ the collar.

  Sampson

  I strike quickly, being moved.

  Gregory

  But thou art not quickly moved to strike.

  Sampson

  A dog of the house of Montague moves me.

  Gregory

  To move is to stir; and to be valiant is to stand: therefore, if thou art moved, thou runn’st away.