The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works
Page 63
TAMORA
I will not hear her speak. Away with her!
LAVINIA
Sweet lords, entreat her hear me but a word.
DEMETRIUS (to Tamora)
Listen, fair madam, let it be your glory
To see her tears, but be your heart to them
As unrelenting flint to drops of rain.
LAVINIA
When did the tiger’s young ones teach the dam?
O, do not learn her wrath! She taught it thee.
The milk thou sucked’st from her did turn to marble,
Even at thy teat thou hadst thy tyranny.
Yet every mother breeds not sons alike.
(To Chiron) Do thou entreat her show a woman’s pity.
CHIRON
What, wouldst thou have me prove myself a bastard?
LAVINIA
’Tis true, the raven doth not hatch a lark.
Yet have I heard—O, could I find it now!—
The lion, moved with pity, did endure
To have his princely paws pared 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.
TAMORA
I know not what it means. Away with her!
LAVINIA
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.
TAMORA
Hadst thou in person ne’er offended me
Even for his sake am I pitiless.
Remember, boys, I poured 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 loved of me.
LAVINIA
O Tamora, be called a gentle queen,
And with thine own hands kill me in this place;
For ’tis not life that I have begged so long;
Poor I was slain when Bassianus died.
TAMORA
What begg’st thou then, fond woman? Let me go.
LAVINIA
’Tis present death I beg, and one thing more
That womanhood denies my tongue to tell.
O, keep me from their worse-than-killing lust,
And tumble me into some loathsome pit
Where never man’s eye may behold my body.
Do this, and be a charitable murderer.
TAMORA
So should I rob my sweet sons of their fee.
No, let them satisfy their lust on thee.
DEMETRIUS (to Lavinia)
Away, for thou hast stayed us here too long.
LAVINIA
No grace, no womanhood—ah, beastly creature,
The blot and enemy to our general name,
Confusion fall—
CHIRON
Nay then, I’ll stop your mouth. (To Demetrius) Bring thou her husband.
This is the hole where Aaron bid us hide him.
Demetrius and Chiron cast Bassianus’ body into the
pit ⌈and cover the mouth of it with branches⌉, then
exeunt dragging Lavinia
TAMORA
Farewell, my sons. See that you make her sure.
Ne’er let my heart know merry cheer indeed
Till all the Andronici be made away.
Now will I hence to seek my lovely Moor,
And let my spleenful sons this trull deflower. Exit
Enter Aaron with Quintus and Martius, two of
Titus’ sons
AARON
Come on, my lords, the better foot before.
Straight will I bring you to the loathsome pit
Where I espied the panther fast asleep.
QUINTUS
My sight is very dull, whate’er it bodes.
MARTIUS
And mine, I promise you. Were it not for shame,
Well could I leave our sport to sleep awhile.
He falls into the pit
QUINTUS
What, art thou fallen? What subtle hole is this,
Whose mouth is covered with rude-growing briers
Upon whose leaves are drops of new-shed blood
As fresh as morning dew distilled on flowers?
A very fatal place it seems to me.
Speak, brother. Hast thou hurt thee with the fall?
MARTIUS
O brother, with the dismall’st object hurt
That ever eye with sight made heart lament.
AARON (aside)
Now will I fetch the King to find them here,
That he thereby may have a likely guess
How these were they that made away his brother.
Exit
MARTIUS
Why dost not comfort me and help me out
From this unhallowed and bloodstained hole?
QUINTUS
I am surprised with an uncouth fear.
A chilling sweat o’erruns my trembling joints;
My heart suspects more than mine eye can see.
MARTIUS
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.
QUINTUS
Aaron is gone, and my compassionate heart
Will not permit mine eyes once to behold
The thing whereat it trembles by surmise.
O, tell me who it is, for ne’er till now
Was I a child to fear I know not what.
MARTIUS
Lord Bassianus lies berayed in blood
All on a heap, like to a slaughtered lamb,
In this detested, dark, blood-drinking pit.
QUINTUS
If it be dark how dost thou know ’tis he?
MARTIUS
Upon his bloody finger he doth wear
A precious ring that lightens all this hole,
Which like a taper in some monument
Doth shine upon the dead man’s earthy cheeks
And shows the ragged entrails of this pit.
So pale did shine the moon on Pyramus
When he by night lay bathed in maiden blood.
O brother, help me with thy fainting hand—
If fear hath made thee faint, as me it hath—
Out of this fell devouring receptacle,
As hateful as Cocytus’ misty mouth.
QUINTUS
Reach me thy hand, that I may help thee out,
Or, wanting strength to do thee so much good,
I may be plucked into the swallowing womb
Of this deep pit, poor Bassianus’ grave.
I have no strength to pluck thee to the brink,
MARTIUS
Nor I no strength to climb without thy help.
QUINTUS
Thy hand once more, I will not loose again
Till thou art here aloft or I below.
Thou canst not come to me; I come to thee.
He falls into the pit.
Enter Saturninus the Emperor ⌈with attendants⌉,
and Aaron the Moor
SATURNINUS
Along with me! I’ll see what hole is here,
And what he is that now is leapt into it.
He speaks into the pit
Say, who art thou that lately didst descend
Into this gaping hollow of the earth?
MARTIUS
The unhappy sons of old Andronicus,
Brought hither in a most unlucky hour
To find thy brother Bassianus dead.
SATURNINUS
My brother dead! I know thou dost but jest.
He and his lady both are at the lodge
Upon the north side of this pleasant chase.
‘Tis not
an hour since I left them there.
MARTIUS
We know not where you left them all alive,
But, out alas, here have we found him dead!
Enter Tamora, Titus Andronicus, and Lucius
TAMORA
Where is my lord the King?
SATURNINUS
Here, Tamora, though gripped with killing grief.
TAMORA
Where is thy brother Bassianus?
SATURNINUS
Now to the bottom dost thou search my wound.
Poor Bassianus here lies murdered.
TAMORA
Then all too late I bring this fatal writ,
The complot of this timeless tragedy,
And wonder greatly that man’s face can fold
In pleasing smiles such murderous tyranny.
She giveth Saturnine a letter
SATURNINUS (reads)
‘An if we miss to meet him handsomely,
Sweet huntsman—Bassianus ’tis we mean—
Do thou so much as dig the grave for him.
Thou know‘st our meaning. Look for thy reward
Among the nettles at the elder tree
Which overshades the mouth of that same pit
Where we decreed to bury Bassianus.
Do this, and purchase us thy lasting friends.’
O Tamora, was ever heard the like!
This is the pit, and this the elder tree.
Look, sirs, if you can find the huntsman out
That should have murdered Bassianus here.
AARON
My gracious lord, here is the bag of gold.
SATURNINUS (to Titus)
Two of thy whelps, fell curs of bloody kind,
Have here bereft my brother of his life.
Sirs, drag them from the pit unto the prison.
There let them bide until we have devised
Some never-heard-of torturing pain for them.
TAMORA
What, are they in this pit? O wondrous thing!
How easily murder is discovered!
Attendants drag Quintus, Martius, and Bassianus’
body from the pit
TITUS (kneeling)
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 proved in them—
SATURNINUS
If it be proved? You see it is apparent.
Who found this letter? Tamora, was it you?
TAMORA
Andronicus himself did take it up.
TITUS
I did, my lord, yet let me be their bail,
For by my father’s reverend tomb I vow
They shall be ready at your highness’ will
To answer their suspicion with their lives.
SATURNINUS
Thou shalt not bail them. See thou follow me.
Some bring the murdered body, some the murderers.
Let them not speak a word—the guilt is plain;
For by my soul, were there worse end than death
That end upon them should be executed. ⌈Exit⌉
TAMORA
Andronicus, I will entreat the King.
Fear not thy sons, they shall do well enough.
TITUS ⌈rising⌉
Come, Lucius, come, stay not to talk with them.
Exeunt
2.4 Enter the Empress’ sons, Chiron and Demetrius, with Lavinia, her hands cut off and her tongue cut out, and ravished
DEMETRIUS
So, now go tell, an if thy tongue can speak,
Who ‘twas that cut thy tongue and ravished thee.
CHIRON
Write down thy mind, bewray thy meaning so,
An if thy stumps will let thee play the scribe.
DEMETRIUS
See how with signs and tokens she can scrawl.
CHIRON (to Lavinia)
Go home, call for sweet water, wash thy hands.
DEMETRIUS
She hath no tongue to call nor hands to wash,
And so let’s leave her to her silent walks.
CHIRON
An ‘twere my cause I should go hang myself.
DEMETRIUS
If thou hadst hands to help thee knit the cord.
Exeunt Chiron and Demetrius
⌈Wind horns.⌉ Enter Marcus from hunting to Lavinia
MARCUS
Who is 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.
If I do wake, some planet strike me down
That I may slumber an eternal sleep.
Speak, gentle niece, what stern ungentle hands
Hath lopped and hewed and made thy body bare
Of her two branches, those sweet ornaments
Whose circling shadows kings have sought to sleep in,
And might not gain so great a happiness
As half thy love. Why dost not speak to me?
Alas, a crimson river of warm blood,
Like to a bubbling fountain stirred with wind,
Doth rise and fall between thy rosed lips,
Coming and going with thy honey breath.
But sure some Tereus hath deflowered thee
And, lest thou shouldst detect him, cut thy tongue.
Ah, now thou turn‘st away thy face for shame,
And notwithstanding all this loss of blood,
As from a conduit with three issuing spouts,
Yet do thy cheeks look red as Titan’s face
Blushing to be encountered with a cloud.
Shall I speak for thee? Shall I say ’tis so?
O that I knew thy heart, and knew the beast,
That I might rail at him to ease my mind!
Sorrow concealed, like an oven stopped,
Doth burn the heart to cinders where it is.
Fair Philomel, why she but lost her tongue
And in a tedious sampler sewed her mind.
But, lovely niece, that mean is cut from thee.
A craftier Tereus, cousin, hast thou met,
And he hath cut those pretty fingers off
That could have better sewed than Philomel.
O, had the monster seen those lily hands
Tremble like aspen leaves upon a lute
And make the silken strings delight to kiss them,
He would not then have touched them for his life.
Or had he heard the heavenly harmony
Which that sweet tongue hath made,
He would have dropped his knife and fell asleep,
As Cerberus at the Thracian poet’s feet.
Come, let us go and make thy father blind,
For such a sight will blind a father’s eye.
One hour’s storm will drown the fragrant meads:
What will whole months of tears thy father’s eyes?
Do not draw back, for we will mourn with thee.
O, could our mourning ease thy misery! Exeunt
3.1 Enter the Judges, Tribunes, and Senators with Titus’ two sons, Martius and Quintus, bound, passing ⌈over⌉ the stage to the place of execution, and Titus going before, pleading
TITUS
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 watched,
And for these bitter tears which now you see
Filling the agèd wrinkles in my cheeks,
Be pitiful to my condemned sons,
Whose souls is not corrupted as ’tis thought.
For two-and-twenty sons I never wept,
Because they died in honour’s lofty bed.
Andronicus lieth down, and the Judges pass by him
For these two, Trib
unes, in the dust I write
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 all but Titus⌉
O earth, I will befriend thee more with rain
That shall distil from these two ancient ruins
Than youthful April shall with all his showers.
In summer’s drought I’ll drop upon thee still.
In winter with warm tears I’ll melt the snow
And keep eternal springtime on thy face,
So thou refuse to drink my dear sons’ blood.
Enter Lucius with his weapon drawn
Oreverend Tribunes, O gentle, aged men,
Unbind my sons, reverse the doom of death,
And let me say, that never wept before,
My tears are now prevailing orators!
LUCIUS
O noble father, you lament in vain.
The Tribunes hear you not. No man is by,
And you recount your sorrows to a stone.
TITUS
Ah Lucius, for thy brothers let me plead.
Grave Tribunes, once more I entreat of you—
LUCIUS
My gracious lord, no tribune hears you speak.
TITUS
Why, ‘tis no matter, man. If they did hear,
They would not mark me; if they did mark,
They would not pity me; yet plead I must.
Therefore I tell my sorrows to the stones,
Who, though they cannot answer my distress,
Yet in some sort they are 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 tribunes like to these.
A stone is soft as wax, tribunes more hard than stones.
A stone is silent and offendeth not,
And tribunes with their tongues doom men to death.
But wherefore stand’st thou with thy weapon drawn?
LUCIUS
To rescue my two brothers from their death,
For which attempt the Judges have pronounced
My everlasting doom of banishment.
TITUS ⌈rising⌉
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