The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works

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The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works Page 60

by William Shakespeare


  That Lady Margaret do vouchsafe to come

  To cross the seas to England and be crowned

  King Henry’s faithful and anointed queen.

  For your expenses and sufficient charge,

  Among the people gather up a tenth.

  Be gone, I say; for till you do return

  I rest perplexed with a thousand cares.

  (To Gloucester) And you, good uncle, banish all offence.

  If you do censure me by what you were,

  Not what you are, I know it will excuse

  This sudden execution of my will.

  And so conduct me where from company

  I may revolve and ruminate my grief.

  Exit ⌈with Exeter⌉

  GLOUCESTER

  Ay, grief, I fear me, both at first and last. Exit

  SIIEFOLK

  Thus Suffolk hath prevailed, and thus he goes

  As did the youthful Paris once to Greece,

  With hope to find the like event in love,

  But prosper better than the Trojan did.

  Margaret shall now be queen and rule the King;

  But I will rule both her, the King, and realm. Exit

  TITUS ANDRONICUS

  BY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, WITH GEORGE PEELE

  SHAKESPEARE’S first, most sensation-packed tragedy appeared in print, anonymously, in 1594, and a performance record dating from January of that year appears to indicate that it was then a new play. But according to its title-page it had been acted by three companies, one of which was bankrupt by the summer of 1593; and the play’s style, too, suggests that it was written earlier. During the later part of the twentieth century, scholars increasingly came round to the view that George Peele had a hand in, especially, the first act of the play. Shakespeare seems to have added a scene after its earliest performances, for Act 3, Scene 2 was first printed in the 1623 Folio. The 1594 performance record may refer to the revised play, not the original, or to the play’s first London performance after plague had closed the theatres from June 1592.

  By convention, Elizabethan tragedies treated historical subjects, and Titus Andronicus is set in Rome during the fourth century AD; but its story (like that of Shakespeare’s other early tragedy, Romeo and Juliet) is fictitious. Whether Shakespeare invented it is an open question: the same tale is told in both a ballad and a chap-book which survive only in eighteenth-century versions but which could derive from pre-Shakespearian originals. Even if Shakespeare knew these works, they could have supplied only a skeletal narrative. His play’s spirit and style owe much to Ovid’s Metamorphoses, one of his favourite works of classical literature, which he actually brings on stage in Act 4, Scene I. Ovid’s tale of the rape of Philomela was certainly in Shakespeare’s mind as he wrote, and the play’s more horrific elements owe something to the Roman dramatist Seneca.

  In its time, Titus Andronicus was popular, perhaps because it combines sensational incident with high-flown rhetoric of a kind that was fashionable around 1590. It tells a story of double revenge. Tamora, Queen of the Goths, seeks revenge on her captor, Titus, for the ritual slaughter of her son Alarbus; she achieves it when her other sons, Chiron and Demetrius, rape and mutilate Titus’ daughter, Lavinia. Later, Titus himself seeks revenge on Tamora and her husband, Saturninus, after Tamora’s black lover, Aaron, has falsely led him to believe that he can save his sons’ lives by allowing his own hand to be chopped off. Though he is driven to madness, Titus, with his brother Marcus and his last surviving son, Lucius, achieves a spectacular sequence of vengeance in which he cuts Tamora’s sons’ throats, serves their flesh baked in a pie to their mother, kills Lavinia to save her from her shame, and stabs Tamora to death. Then, in rapid succession, Saturninus kills Titus and is himself killed by Lucius, who, as the new Emperor, is left with Marcus to bury the dead, to punish Aaron, and ‘To heal Rome’s harms and wipe away her woe’.

  In Titus Andronicus, as in his early history plays, Shakespeare is at his most successful in the expression of grief and the portrayal of vigorously energetic evil. The play’s piling of horror upon horror can seem ludicrous, and the reader may be surprised by the apparent disjunction between terrifying events and the measured verse in which characters react; but a few remarkable modern productions have revealed that the play may still arouse pity as well as terror in its audiences.

  THE PERSONS OF THE PLAY

  SATURNINUS, eldest son of the late Emperor of Rome; later

  Emperor

  BASSIANUS, his brother

  TITUS ANDRONICUS, a Roman nobleman, general against the Goths

  LAVINIA, daughter of Titus

  YOUNG LUCIUS, a boy, son of Lucius

  MARCUS ANDRONICUS, a tribune of the people, Titus’ brother PUBLIUS, his son

  A CAPTAIN

  AEMILIUS

  TAMORA, Queen of the Goths, later wife of Saturninus

  AARON, a Moor, her lover

  A NURSE

  A CLOWN

  Senators, tribunes, Romans, Goths, soldiers, and attendants

  The Most Lamentable Roman Tragedy of Titus Andronicus

  1.1 ⌈Flourish.⌉ Enter the Tribunes and Senators aloft, and then enter below Saturninus and his followers at one door and Bassianus and his followers ⌈at the other, with drummer and colours⌉

  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 age with this indignity.

  BASSIANUS

  Romans, friends, followers, favourers of my right,

  If ever Bassianus, Caesar’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

  MARCUS

  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 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,

  Lives not this day within the city walls.

  He by the Senate is accited home

  From weary wars against the barbarous Goths,

  That with his sons, a terror to our foes,

  Hath yoked a nation strong, trained up in arms.

  Ten years are spent since first he undertook

  This cause of Rome, and chastised with arms

  Our enemies’ pride. Five times he hath returned

  Bleeding to Rome, bearing his valiant sons

  In coffins from the field.

  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 succeeded,

  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.

  SATURNINUS

  How fair the Tribune speaks to calm my thoughts.

  BASSIANUS

  Marcus Andronicus, so I do affy

 
In thy uprightness and integrity,

  And so I love and honour thee and thine,

  Thy noble 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 weighed.

  ⌈Exeunt his soldiers and followers⌉

  SATURNINUS

  Friends that have been thus forward in my right,

  I thank you all, and here dismiss you all,

  And to the love and favour of my country

  Commit myself, my person, and the cause.

  ⌈Exeunt his soldiers and followers⌉

  (To the Tribunes and Senators)

  Rome, be as just and gracious unto me

  As I am confident and kind to thee.

  Open the gates and let me in.

  BASSIANUS

  Tribunes, and me, a poor competitor.

  ⌈Flourish.⌉ They go up into the Senate House. Enter a Captain

  CAPTAIN

  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 returned

  From where he circumscribed with his sword

  And brought to yoke the enemies of Rome.

  Sound drums and trumpets, and then enter Martius

  and Mutius, two of Titus’ sons, and then ⌈men

  bearing coffins⌉ covered with black, then Lucius and

  Quintus, two other sons; then Titus Andronicus ⌈in

  his chariot⌉ and then Tamora the Queen of Goths

  and her sons Alarbus, Chiron, and Demetrius, with

  Aaron the Moor and others as many as can be.

  Then set down the ⌈coffins⌉, and Titus speaks

  TITUS

  Hail, Rome, victorious in thy mourning weeds!

  Lo, as the bark that hath discharged his freight

  Returns with precious lading to the bay

  From whence at first she weighed her anchorage,

  Cometh Andronicus, bound with laurel bows,

  To re-salute his country with his tears,

  Tears of true joy for his return to Rome.

  Thou great defender of this Capitol,

  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.

  Here Goths have given me leave to sheathe my sword.

  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.

  They open the tomb

  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 hast thou of mine in store

  That thou wilt never render to me more!

  LUCIUS

  Give us the proudest prisoner of the Goths,

  That we may hew his limbs and on a pile

  Ad manes fratrum sacrifice his flesh

  Before this earthy prison of their bones,

  That so the shadows be not unappeased,

  Nor we disturbed with prodigies on earth.

  TITUS

  I give him you, the noblest that survives,

  The eldest son of this distressed Queen.

  TAMORA ⌈kneeling⌉

  Stay, Roman brethren! Gracious conqueror,

  Victorious Titus, rue the tears I shed—

  A mother’s tears in passion 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 slaughtered in the streets

  For valiant doings in their country’s cause?

  O, if to fight for king and commonweal

  Were piety in thine, it is in these.

  Andronicus, stain not thy tomb with blood.

  Wilt thou draw near the nature of the gods?

  Draw near them then in being merciful.

  Sweet mercy is nobility’s true badge.

  Thrice-noble Titus, spare my first-born son.

  TITUS

  Patient yourself, madam, and pardon me.

  These are their brethren whom your Goths beheld

  Alive and dead, and for their brethren slain

  Religiously they ask a sacrifice.

  To this your son is marked, and die he must

  T’appease their groaning shadows that are gone.

  LUCIUS

  Away with him, and make a fire straight,

  And with our swords upon a pile of wood

  Let’s hew his limbs till they be clean consumed.

  Exeunt Titus’ sons with Alarbus

  TAMORA ⌈rising⌉

  O cruel irreligious piety!

  CHIRON

  Was never Scythia half so barbarous.

  DEMETRIUS

  Oppose not Scythia to ambitious Rome.

  Alarbus goes to rest, and we survive

  To tremble under Titus’ threat’ning took.

  Then, madam, stand resolved; but hope withal

  The selfsame gods that armed 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 her bloody wrongs upon her foes.

  Enter Quintus, Marcus, Mutius, and Lucius, the sons of Andronicus, again, with bloody swords

  LUCIUS

  See, lord and father, how we have performed

  Our Roman rites. Alarbus’ limbs are lopped

  And entrails feed the sacrificing fire,

  Whose smoke like incense doth perfume the sky.

  Remaineth naught but to inter our brethren

  And with loud ’larums welcome them to Rome.

  TITUS

  Let it be so, and let Andronicus

  Make this his latest farewell to their souls.

  ⌈Flourish.⌉ Then sound trumpets and lay the ⌈coffins⌉ in the tomb

  In peace and honour rest you here, my sons;

  Rome’s readiest champions, repose you here in rest,

  Secure from worldly chances and mishaps.

  Here lurks no treason, here no envy swells,

  Here grow no damned drugs, here are no storms,

  No noise, but silence and eternal sleep.

  In peace and honour rest you here, my sons.

  Enter Lavinia

  LAVINIA

  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,

  (Kneeling) And at thy feet I kneel with tears of joy

  Shed on this earth for thy return to Rome.

  O, bless me here with thy victorious hand,

  Whose fortunes Rome’s best citizens applaud.

  TITUS

  Kind Rome, that hast thus lovingly reserved

  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.

  ⌈Lavinia rises⌉

 
; MARCUS ⌈aloft⌉

  Long live Lord Titus, my beloved brother,

  Gracious triumpher in the eyes of Rome!

  TITUS

  Thanks, gentle Tribune, noble brother Marcus.

  MARCUS

  And welcome, nephews, from successful wars,

  You that survive and you that sleep in fame.

  Fair lords, your fortunes are alike in all,

  That in your country’s service drew your swords,

  But safer triumph is this funeral pomp

  That hath aspired to Solon’s happiness

  And triumphs over chance in honour’s bed.

  Titus Andronicus, the people of Rome,

  Whose friend in justice thou hast ever been,

  Send thee by me, their tribune and their trust,

  This palliament of white and spotless hue,

  And name thee in election for the empire

  With these our late-deceased emperor’s sons.

  Be candidatus then, and put it on,

  And help to set a head on headless Rome.

  TITUS

  A better head her glorious body fits

  Than his that shakes for age and feebleness.

  What should I don this robe and trouble you?—

  Be chosen with proclamations today,

  Tomorrow yield up rule, resign my life,

  And set abroad new business for you all.

  Rome, I have been thy soldier forty years,

  And led my country’s strength successfully,

  And buried one-and-twenty valiant sons

  Knighted in field, slain manfully in arms

  In right and service of their noble country.

  Give me a staff of honour for mine age,

  But not a sceptre to control the world.

  Upright he held it, lords, that held it last.

  MARCUS

  Titus, thou shalt obtain and ask the empery.

  SATURNINUS

  Proud and ambitious Tribune, canst thou tell?

  TITUS

  Patience, Prince Saturninus.

  SATURNINUS

  Romans, do me right.

  Patricians, draw your swords, and sheathe them not

  Till Saturninus be Rome’s emperor.

  Andronicus, would thou were shipped to hell

  Rather than rob me of the people’s hearts!

 

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