The Arden Shakespeare Complete Works
Page 500
Extremity of griefs would make men mad,
And I have read that Hecuba of Troy
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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,
Which made me down to throw my books and fly,
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Causeless perhaps. But pardon me, sweet aunt,
And, madam, if my uncle Marcus go,
I will most willingly attend your ladyship.
MARCUS Lucius, I will. [Lavinia turns over the books.]
TITUS How now, Lavinia? Marcus, what means this?
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Some book there is that she desires to see.
Which is it, girl, of these? Open them, boy.
[to Lavinia]
But thou art deeper read and better skilled:
Come and take choice of all my library,
And so beguile thy sorrow till the heavens
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Reveal the damned contriver of this deed.
Why lifts she up her arms in sequence thus?
MARCUS
I think she means that there were more than one
Confederate in the fact. Ay, more there was –
Or else to heaven she heaves them for revenge.
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TITUS Lucius, what book is that she tosseth so?
BOY Grandsire, ’tis Ovid’s Metamorphosis;
My mother gave it me.
MARCUS For love of her that’s gone,
Perhaps she culled it from among the rest.
TITUS Soft, so busily she turns the leaves! [Helps her.]
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What would she find? Lavinia, shall I read?
This is the tragic tale of Philomel,
And treats of Tereus’ treason and his rape –
And rape, I fear, was root of thy annoy.
MARCUS
See, brother, see: note how she quotes the leaves.
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TITUS Lavinia, wert thou thus surprised, sweet girl,
Ravished and wronged as Philomela was,
Forced in the ruthless, vast and gloomy woods?
[Lavinia nods.] See, see!
Ay, such a place there is where we did hunt –
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O, had we never, never hunted there! –
Patterned by that the poet here describes,
By nature made for murders and for rapes.
MARCUS O, why should nature build so foul a den,
Unless the gods delight in tragedies?
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TITUS
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?
MARCUS
Sit down, sweet niece. Brother, sit down by me.
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[They sit.] Apollo, Pallas, Jove or Mercury
Inspire me, that I may this treason find.
My lord, look here; look here, Lavinia.
[He writes his name with his staff, and guides it with feet and mouth.]
This sandy plot is plain. Guide, if thou canst,
This after me. I here have writ my name
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Without the help of any hand at all.
Cursed be that heart that forced us to this shift.
Write thou, good niece, and here display at last
What God will have discovered for revenge.
Heaven guide thy pen to print thy sorrows plain,
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That we may know the traitors and the truth.
[She takes the staff in her mouth, and guides it with her stumps, and writes.]
O do ye read, my lord, what she hath writ?
TITUS Stuprum – Chiron – Demetrius.
MARCUS What, what? The lustful sons of Tamora
Performers of this heinous bloody deed?
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TITUS Magni dominator poli,
Tam lentus audis scelera, tam lentus vides?
MARCUS O calm thee, gentle lord, although I know
There is enough written upon this earth
To stir a mutiny in the mildest thoughts
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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,
[They kneel.]
And swear with me – as, with the woeful fere
And father of that chaste dishonoured dame,
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Lord Junius Brutus swore for Lucrece’ rape –
That we will prosecute by good advice
Mortal revenge upon these traitorous Goths,
And see their blood, or die with this reproach.
[They rise.]
TITUS ’Tis sure enough, and you knew how.
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But if you hunt these bear-whelps, then beware:
The dam will wake, and if she wind ye 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.
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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,
And lay it by. The angry northern wind
Will blow these sands like Sibyl’s leaves abroad,
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And where’s our lesson then? Boy, what say you?
BOY I say, my lord, that if I were a man
Their mother’s bedchamber should not be safe
For these base bondmen to the yoke of Rome.
MARCUS Ay, that’s my boy! Thy father hath full oft
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For his ungrateful country done the like.
BOY And, uncle, so will I, and if I live.
TITUS Come, go with me into mine armoury:
LUCIUS, I’ll fit thee, and withal my boy
Shall carry from me to the empress’ sons
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Presents that I intend to send them both.
Come, come, thou’lt do my message, wilt thou not?
BOY Ay, with my dagger in their bosoms, grandsire.
TITUS No, boy, not so; I’ll teach thee another course.
LAVINIA, come; Marcus, look to my house;
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LUCIUS and I’ll go brave it at the court.
Ay, marry, will we, sir, and we’ll be waited on.
Exeunt all but Marcus.
MARCUS O heavens, can you hear a good man groan
And not relent or not compassion him?
MARCUS, attend him in his ecstasy
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That hath more scars of sorrow in his heart
Than foemen’s marks upon his battered shield,
But yet so just that he will not revenge.
Revenge the heavens for old Andronicus! Exit.
4.2 Enter AARON, CHIRON and DEMETRIUS at one door, and at the other door YOUNG LUCIUS and another, with a bundle of weapons, and verses writ upon them.
CHIRON Demetrius, here’s the son of Lucius:
He hath some message to deliver us.
AARON
Ay, some mad message from his mad grandfather.
BOY My lords, with all the humbleness I may,
I greet your honours from Andronicus –
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[aside] And pray the Roman gods confound you both.
DEMETRIUS
Gramercy, lovely Lucius. What’s the news?
BOY [aside]
That you are both deciphered, that’s the news,
For villains marked with rape.
[to them] May it please you,
My grandsire, well advised, hath sent by me
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The goodli
est 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,
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You may be armed and appointed well.
[Attendant presents the weapons.]
And so I leave you both [aside] like bloody villains.
Exit with attendant.
DEMETRIUS
What’s here? A scroll, and written round about?
Let’s see:
[Reads.] Integer vitae, scelerisque purus,
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Non eget Mauri iaculis, nec arcu.
CHIRON O, ’tis a verse in Horace, I know it well:
I read it in the grammar long ago.
AARON Ay, just – a verse in Horace, right, you have it.
[aside] Now what a thing it is to be an ass.
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Here’s no sound jest! The old man hath found their guilt,
And sends them weapons wrapped about with lines
That wound beyond their feeling to the quick.
But were our witty empress well afoot
She would applaud Andronicus’ conceit.
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But let her rest in her unrest awhile.
[to them] 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
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To brave the tribune in his brother’s hearing.
DEMETRIUS But me more good to see so great a lord
Basely insinuate and send us gifts.
AARON Had he not reason, Lord Demetrius?
Did you not use his daughter very friendly?
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DEMETRIUS I would we had a thousand Roman dames
At such a bay, by turn to serve our lust.
CHIRON A charitable wish, and full of love.
AARON Here lacks but your mother for to say amen.
CHIRON
And that would she, for twenty thousand more.
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DEMETRIUS Come, let us go and pray to all the gods
For our beloved mother in her pains.
AARON Pray to the devils; the gods have given us over.
[Trumpets sound.]
DEMETRIUS
Why do the emperor’s trumpets flourish thus?
CHIRON Belike for joy the emperor hath a son.
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DEMETRIUS Soft, who comes here?
Enter Nurse with a blackamoor child.
NURSE Good morrow, lords.
O tell me, did you see Aaron the Moor?
AARON Well, more or less, or ne’er a whit at all:
Here Aaron is, and what with Aaron now?
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NURSE O gentle Aaron, we are all undone.
Now help, or woe betide thee evermore!
AARON Why, what a caterwauling dost thou keep!
What dost thou wrap and fumble in thy arms?
NURSE O, that which I would hide from heaven’s eye,
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Our empress’ shame and stately Rome’s disgrace:
She is delivered, lords, she is delivered.
AARON To whom?
NURSE I mean she is brought abed.
AARON
Well, God give her good rest. What hath he sent her?
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NURSE A devil.
AARON Why then, she is the devil’s dam: a joyful issue.
NURSE A joyless, dismal, black and sorrowful issue.
Here is the babe, as loathsome as a toad
Amongst the fair-faced breeders of our clime.
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The empress sends it thee, thy stamp, thy seal,
And bids thee christen it with thy dagger’s point.
AARON Zounds, ye whore, is black so base a hue?
[to the baby] Sweet blowze, you are a beauteous
blossom, sure.
DEMETRIUS Villain, what hast thou done?
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AARON That which thou canst not undo.
CHIRON Thou hast undone our mother.
AARON Villain, I have done thy mother.
DEMETRIUS
And therein, hellish dog, thou hast undone her.
Woe to her chance and damned her loathed choice,
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Accursed the offspring of so foul a fiend.
CHIRON It shall not live.
AARON It shall not die.
NURSE Aaron, it must: the mother wills it so.
AARON What, must it, nurse? Then let no man but I
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Do execution on my flesh and blood.
DEMETRIUS
I’ll broach the tadpole on my rapier’s point.
Nurse, give it me; my sword shall soon dispatch it.