Complete Plays, The

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Complete Plays, The Page 6

by William Shakespeare


  SCENE I. ROME. TITUS’S GARDEN.

  Enter young Lucius, and Lavinia running after him, and the boy flies from her, with books under his arm. Then enter Titus and Marcus

  Young Lucius

  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.

  Marcus Andronicus

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

  Titus Andronicus

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

  Young Lucius

  Ay, when my father was in Rome she did.

  Marcus Andronicus

  What means my niece Lavinia by these signs?

  Titus Andronicus

  Fear her not, Lucius: somewhat doth she mean:

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

  Somewhither would she have thee go with her.

  Ah, boy, Cornelia never with more care

  Read to her sons than she hath read to thee

  Sweet poetry and Tully’s Orator.

  Marcus Andronicus

  Canst thou not guess wherefore she plies thee thus?

  Young Lucius

  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

  Ran mad through 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 —

  Causeless, perhaps. But pardon me, sweet aunt:

  And, madam, if my uncle Marcus go,

  I will most willingly attend your ladyship.

  Marcus Andronicus

  Lucius, I will.

  Lavinia turns over with her stumps the books which Lucius has let fall

  Titus Andronicus

  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?

  Marcus Andronicus

  I think she means that there was more than one

  Confederate in the fact: ay, more there was;

  Or else to heaven she heaves them for revenge.

  Titus Andronicus

  Lucius, what book is that she tosseth so?

  Young Lucius

  Grandsire, ’tis Ovid’s Metamorphoses;

  My mother gave it me.

  Marcus Andronicus

  For love of her that’s gone,

  Perhaps she cull’d it from among the rest.

  Titus Andronicus

  Soft! see how busily she turns the leaves!

  Helping her

  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 thine annoy.

  Marcus Andronicus

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

  Titus Andronicus

  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,

  By nature made for murders and for rapes.

  Marcus Andronicus

  O, why should nature build so foul a den,

  Unless the gods delight in tragedies?

  Titus Andronicus

  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 Andronicus

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

  Apollo, Pallas, Jove, or Mercury,

  Inspire me, that I may this treason find!

  My lord, look here: look here, Lavinia:

  This sandy plot is plain; guide, if thou canst

  This after me, when I have writ my name

  Without the help of any hand at all.

  He writes his name with his staff, and guides it with feet and mouth

  Cursed be that heart that forced us to this shift!

  Write thou good niece; and here display, at last,

  What God will have discover’d for revenge;

  Heaven guide thy pen to print thy sorrows plain,

  That we may know the traitors and the truth!

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

  Titus Andronicus

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

  ‘stuprum. Chiron. Demetrius.’

  Marcus Andronicus

  What, what! the lustful sons of Tamora

  Performers of this heinous, bloody deed?

  Titus Andronicus

  Magni Dominator poli,

  Tam lentus audis scelera? tam lentus vides?

  Marcus Andronicus

  O, calm thee, gentle lord; although I know

  There is enough written upon this earth

  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;

  And swear with me, as, with the woful fere

  And father of that chaste dishonour’d dame,

  Lord Junius Brutus sware 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.

  Titus Andronicus

  ’Tis 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 it 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,

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

  Young Lucius

  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.

  Marcus Andronicus

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

  For his ungrateful country done the like.

  Young Lucius

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

  Titus Andronicus

  Come, go with me into mine armoury;

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

  Shalt 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?

  Young Lucius

  Ay, with my dagger in their bosoms, grandsire.

  Titus Andronicus

  No, boy, not so; I’ll teach thee anot
her 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

  Marcus Andronicus

  O heavens, can you hear a good man groan,

  And not relent, or not compassion him?

  Marcus, attend him in his ecstasy,

  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, from one side, Aaron, Demetrius, and Chiron; from the other side, Young Lucius, and an Attendant, 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.

  Young Lucius

  My lords, with all the humbleness I may,

  I greet your honours from Andronicus.

  Aside

  And pray the Roman gods confound you both!

  Demetrius

  Gramercy, lovely Lucius: what’s the news?

  Young Lucius

  [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

  The goodliest weapons of his armoury

  To gratify your honourable youth,

  The hope of Rome; for so he bade 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:

  And so I leave you both:

  Aside

  like bloody villains.

  Exeunt Young Lucius, and Attendant

  Demetrius

  What’s here? A scroll; and written round about?

  Let’s see;

  Reads

  ‘Integer vitae, scelerisque purus,

  Non eget Mauri jaculis, 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!

  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:

  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.

  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?

  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.

  Demetrius

  Come, let us go; and pray to all the gods

  For our beloved mother in her pains.

  Aaron

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

  Trumpets sound within

  Demetrius

  Why do the emperor’s trumpets flourish thus?

  Chiron

  Belike, for joy the emperor hath a son.

  Demetrius

  Soft! who comes here?

  Enter a Nurse, with a blackamoor Child in her arms

  Nurse

  Good morr ow, 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?

  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 thine arms?

  Nurse

  O, 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.

  Aaron

  To whom?

  Nurse

  I mean, she is brought a-bed.

  Aaron

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

  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 fairest breeders of our clime:

  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?

  Sweet blowse, you are a beauteous blossom, sure.

  Demetrius

  Villain, what hast thou done?

  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.

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

  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

  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.

  Aaron

  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

  That touches this my first-born son and heir!

  I tell you, younglings, not Enceladus,

  With all his threatening band of Typhon’s brood,

  Nor great Alcides, nor the god of war,

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

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

  Ye white-limed walls! ye alehouse painted signs!

  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

  To keep mine own, excuse it how she can.

  Demetrius

  Wilt thou betray thy noble mistress thus?


  Aaron

  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.

  Demetrius

  By this our mother is forever shamed.

  Chiron

  Rome will despise her for this foul escape.

  Nurse

  The emperor, in his rage, will doom her death.

  Chiron

  I blush to think upon this ignomy.

  Aaron

  Why, there’s the privilege your beauty bears:

  Fie, treacherous hue, that will betray with blushing

  The close enacts and counsels of the heart!

  Here’s a young lad framed of another leer:

  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,

  And from that womb where you imprison’d were

  He is enfranchised and come to light:

  Nay, he is your brother by the surer side,

  Although my seal be stamped in his face.

  Nurse

  Aaron, what shall I say unto the empress?

  Demetrius

  Advise thee, Aaron, what is to be done,

  And we will all subscribe to thy advice:

  Save thou the child, so we may all be safe.

  Aaron

  Then sit we down, and let us all consult.

  My son and I will have the wind of you:

  Keep there: now talk at pleasure of your safety.

  They sit

  Demetrius

  How many women saw this child of his?

  Aaron

  Why, so, brave lords! when we join in league,

  I am a lamb: but if you brave the Moor,

  The chafed boar, the mountain lioness,

  The ocean swells not so as Aaron storms.

  But say, again; how many saw the child?

  Nurse

  Cornelia the midwife and myself;

  And no one else but the deliver’d empress.

  Aaron

  The empress, the midwife, and yourself:

  Two may keep counsel when the third’s away:

  Go to the empress, tell her this I said.

  He kills the nurse

  Weke, weke! so cries a pig prepared to the spit.

  Demetrius

  What mean’st thou, Aaron? wherefore didst thou this?

  Aaron

  O Lord, sir, ’tis a deed of policy:

  Shall she live to betray this guilt of ours,

  A long-tongued babbling gossip? no, lords, no:

  And now be it known to you my full intent.

  Not far, one Muli lives, my countryman;

  His wife but yesternight was brought to bed;

  His child is like to her, fair as you are:

  Go pack with him, and give the mother gold,

  And tell them both the circumstance of all;

 

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